We almost missed our jumping lesson last night. We had a 7:00 pm appointment with David and I even left early so I would have lots of time to stretch Solo out before David's intense warmup sessions. Only the entire interstate was shut down and it took me 45 minutes to go 0.75 miles. Apparently people don't care if you scream at them, "Get out of the way, I have a RIDING LESSON, dammit!"
David, being the patient, saintly type, was waiting for us when we turned up at 7:30, sitting on the mounting block with feet swinging like he didn't have a two hour drive home to get to. Meanwhile, I frantically parked the trailer and tried to simultaneously unload Solo and put my spurs on. I tripped and Solo decided he didn't WANT to get off right then.
I hopped on as fast as I could. Poor horse had been standing in the trailer for almost two hours by that point, so he wasn't too thrilled about instantly being asked to bend and round himself, but we got him loosened up and then began our jumping exercises.
And here is why I love David: Solo has what he calls a "fragile" balance and will tip on his forehand in a second while jumping. A last dive step or two before takeoff is his trademark. If you tip your shoulders at him at the jump, he'll drop a knee. So as I'm riding towards the jump, David calls, "Keep your hand very soft and focus on lifting his shoulder with your thigh and abs all the way to the jump."
So I did.
So my horse jumped awesome.
I don't know how he does it -- EVERY STINKIN' TIME. He gives us one simple direction and it's like a lightbulb moment and things just work. What I wouldn't give for that kind of insight.
We kept the jumps small (David is big on technique -- if you get it right over 2'6" and you can do it right over 4'6") and put a few little courses together. I worked really hard to stay focused and make sure we kept a slow, balanced canter between the jumps and lifted the shoulder with the torso in front of the jump.
And holy crap, the jumps rode amazingly. It was smooth, it flowed, and the rhythm was just there. Solo stayed up and light in the hand the whole time. Of course, by the time I got off, my legs were twitching with a mind of their own. Ow.
The $64,000 question? Can I do this at home without Mr. I'm-A-Teaching-Genius keeping me honest?
David, being the patient, saintly type, was waiting for us when we turned up at 7:30, sitting on the mounting block with feet swinging like he didn't have a two hour drive home to get to. Meanwhile, I frantically parked the trailer and tried to simultaneously unload Solo and put my spurs on. I tripped and Solo decided he didn't WANT to get off right then.
I hopped on as fast as I could. Poor horse had been standing in the trailer for almost two hours by that point, so he wasn't too thrilled about instantly being asked to bend and round himself, but we got him loosened up and then began our jumping exercises.
And here is why I love David: Solo has what he calls a "fragile" balance and will tip on his forehand in a second while jumping. A last dive step or two before takeoff is his trademark. If you tip your shoulders at him at the jump, he'll drop a knee. So as I'm riding towards the jump, David calls, "Keep your hand very soft and focus on lifting his shoulder with your thigh and abs all the way to the jump."
So I did.
So my horse jumped awesome.
I don't know how he does it -- EVERY STINKIN' TIME. He gives us one simple direction and it's like a lightbulb moment and things just work. What I wouldn't give for that kind of insight.
We kept the jumps small (David is big on technique -- if you get it right over 2'6" and you can do it right over 4'6") and put a few little courses together. I worked really hard to stay focused and make sure we kept a slow, balanced canter between the jumps and lifted the shoulder with the torso in front of the jump.
And holy crap, the jumps rode amazingly. It was smooth, it flowed, and the rhythm was just there. Solo stayed up and light in the hand the whole time. Of course, by the time I got off, my legs were twitching with a mind of their own. Ow.
The $64,000 question? Can I do this at home without Mr. I'm-A-Teaching-Genius keeping me honest?