Collecting Thoughts...And Strides

In celebration of the end of the Nor'Easter From Hell, I decided to strip down the horse bay of the trailer and clean it. Which always includes the fun task of dragging out 300-lb trailer mats. Hullo, where are those "space-age" materials??? In the process, I discovered my trailer tires have given up the ghost. One, in a fit of sheer irony, has a horseshoe nail jammed into it and was completely flat. The two on the opposite side had ominous looking cracks through the sidewalls that I could all too easily envision blowing out under my horse at sixty miles an hour. No worries, I'll just gather up the spare sacks of money I have sitting around and buy a new set of tires. *sigh*

In happier news, the sun came out for our afternoon lesson (during which I was mentally worshipping our BO for having perfect all-weather footing so the ring was just dandy despite aforementioned Nor'Easter). The first part of the lesson, I mostly spent in extreme annoyance as Solo was fixated on keeping the Insolent Hussy (aka Pony Lover) in sight. But we stepped up the workload and he came back to focus. We started introducing very deliberate half halts, much more exaggerated than you would normally do, but as P explained, you can't really expect your horse to obey a half halt if you don't first teach him what one is! Then--and this was really exciting--we practiced getting a few steps of collection at the sitting trot using seat! It was cool!

I had expressed to P my dissatisfaction over our canter departs and that I wasn't sure of the best way to approach them in training. She said, as I should have expected, "Don't work on them. The canter depart comes from being able to control the stride within the trot. Learn changes within the gait at the trot and from this will spring a lovely canter depart." And we did a couple canter departures using the collected trot stride. And it was an improvement!

Oh.  So, it looks like schooling will consist of lots more work on the sitting trot, so you will see us shifting back and forth...collected-working-collected-working...and then, hopefully, someday a beautiful canter depart will magically appear!

And as promised, a picture of the Insolent Hussy (who is soon to leave the farm, hurrah!) looking oh-so-innocent at moonrise:

Read More

An Update About Nothing

It's wet. It's cold. It's windy. It's raining. We've gotten somewhere around 5 or 6 inches of rain at least in the last 24 hours. Perfect riding weather. :-\

In good news, since yesterday was a holiday, I got to meet the farrier around lunchtime and we got Solo's fancy new shoes on. So now, pads are gone and he has shiny aluminum wedges up front (pictures to come). I quite like the look of them, and best of all, no frog covering! Solo was a bit surprised walking back to his stall and about tripped over himself, not quite expecting his feet to be so light. I told the farrier that I now expect a guarantee that my horse will jump higher and snap his knees up like a Grand Prix stallion. We are counting down to our big Horse Trial coming up on the 22nd.

I pondered riding across the road to the indoor arena tonight. I am not entirely feeling the motivation though. But I've used up most of my busy work--I put Solo's tail up in its winter tail wrap of eye-burningly bright royal blue Lycra (because all horses need metrosexual accessories!). His mohawk is trimmed, wounds are dressed. I suppose I could clean my tack. Or not.

Read More

Taking Stock

So, I'm pretty much caught up to the present. Finally! I've glossed over a lot, much of it I'm sure I'll come back to, what with my talent for repeating myself and all. Here's where we stand:

Yup, that's my little red speck to the left of the tree.

(1) Home: Solo is mostly settled in at the new farm. To my delight, he is back on pasture board, but with a big safe stall of his own for eating and severe weather. The rest of the time, he is out and about, keeping joints and intestines healthy and mobile.

To my not-so-delight, he is in mad crazy love with a little grey pony mare who is in insane heat. Praise be to the heavens, they will be forced to break up in two days when we rearrange the pastures and Solo will be back in an all-boy group, having proved his untrustworthiness around mares. I can't even catch him now and my sane, lovely horse is now a maddening wild stallion, herding "his" mare carefully away from all other people and horses. I might stab him with a blunt object.  Must...have... restraint...till...Wednesday. But the facility is lovely and BO and co-boarders are gems.


(2) Feet: I talked a little bit about foot problems here. Solo did great barefoot for a while, but EX-farrier managed to completely get rid of his poor heels, at which point farrier was fired. So we had to go back to shoes. They are on all four for now. The fronts are in wedge pads too, til the heels grow back, but the pads are trapping too much moisture and causing frog sensitivity so this week, we are switching to aluminum wedges and pads BE GONE, hurrah!




(3) Tack: Saddles fit, I am trying ANOTHER new bit for dressage -- he liked the happy mouth double-jointed Boucher, but I still felt like things could be better. Am borrowing a KK ultra French mouth loose ring (so happy I found one in BO's bit collection because I can't afford to buy that!) and so far, like it even more. He is STAYING on the bit at the trot and that's a REALLY big deal!

It's been a bit journey -- started with a full cheek snaffle, went to D-ring French link, then D-ring Myler, which worked well for a long time, I now look much more favourably upon the low level Mylers, then to this happy mouth Boucher we picked up at a consignment sale, which Solo quite liked. I have to stay with double jointed bits as Solo has a low palate and big tongue, so single jointed bits jab him in the roof of the mouth. I think we'll stick with the KK though, I really like this new feel.


(4) Dressage: Making good progress. Trot work is becoming much more enjoyable as Solo learns to reach for the contact and stay on it. Walk is good, but need more impulsion. W/T transitions feeling great, as is halt, although Solo has this new tendency to drift left into the halt, but only on centerline, grrr. Canter...well, it has single-stride moments, transitions are not great, it's our project. But Solo is becoming much more supple in all gaits, moves mostly readily off the leg and moves over his back.

(5) Jumping: We were going really well, but since moving to the new place, just haven't had any good schooling sessions as Solo has become a horse-shaped wrecking ball. Still jumping clean at comps as long as I don't mess him up, but we've lost the flow. I think I am not using enough impulsion... Our jumping coach is having surgery so can't travel up here for a bit and we haven't had a lesson with him in a while, sigh. I NEED one!

So...now you'll get some detailed progress and musings on our day-to-day crap, such as it is. I didn't get to ride this weekend, I don't want to work him until the stupid pads come off as we have our big competition coming up in two weeks and I don't want him going footsore on me. I spent some time ground driving him last night for a nice change of pace since he doesn't limp on the arena footing. He did well in the end, although it always makes him nervous. I am working on getting him comfortable with me driving him from directly behind where he can't see me, to build his confidence in himself.

If there are topical posts you'd like to see, feel free to submit requests as well and I will freely share my brain drivel on the topic at hand. But I like to read and explore riding theory and am always open to gathering new tools for the the toolbox, so I spend a lot of time thinking about all that -- now whether my thinking is useful or not remains deeply in question, but it amuses me. I also plan to do some product reviews, as I find them immensely helpful for my own purchases, I want to help out other horsepeople decide what is right for them.

I will keep our calender on here up to date with our various activities and hopefully will get some new videos soon as our routine at the new place settles a bit more. I hate winter because I have to ride in the dark during the week, but at least BO has good lights.

Long term goal: complete Training 3-Day Event at Waredaca. (3 years?)
Short term goal: get a nice canter transition. (10 years?)

SO, now you know the back story, let's see where it takes us...

Me and Solo on our birthday 2009 (my 30th, his 13th). Headgear courtesy of dear barn friends.

Read More

A Very Rainy Day

Fresh off our big win, I decided to enter a new local HT to get some more mileage for Solo and I. The competition was a new one, just built at a nearby farm and it only included Maiden and BN, so I expected the courses to be pretty small, but I try to take advantage of every opportunity to present Solo with new obstacles.

Sometimes, we all make errors in judgement.

This was just about a week or so ago, so November, chilly rain, cold wind. Oh yeah, I said rain AND wind. But we eventers are a hardy bunch and never let a silly thing like weather take rides away from us!

Solo got off the trailer transformed into a hot, blowing Thoroughbred. As soon as I got on, he jigged around, blowing and staring at every conceivable object in the parking pasture. The rain had tapered off to a drizzle, but it was still cold and wet -- I was actually wearing rain pants over my breeches and counting on the equisuede seat of my saddle to keep me from sliding right off.

I could see no warmup in sight and the secretary's table was way down by the barn, farther than I was willing to walk in the rain. I saw a dressage arena set up in the grass across the road. Well, all right then -- I warmed up in the parking area and Solo eventually decided to join me mentally. I kept an eye on the arena. It was a bit puzzling. There was no judge in sight, no one else was warming up that I could see. But as my time approached, I made my way over to the arena. At which point, a staff member yelled at me that I was wanted at the dressage arena because my time was NOW.

But I'm at the dressage arena?

No, the arena is down the road around the corner.

Oh, sorry, I didn't see any signs.

There are signs everywhere, go down there! (There were NOT any signs for the arena)

So I rode down the road. Apparently everyone else was in on this little secret as they were already warming up and ready to go at the OTHER dressage arena. D'oh. Solo was also NOW intent on prancing around like a giraffe, staring to and calling at all the other horses in the pastures around us. So I rode a hot, red, stiff, jumpy TB down centerline.


A random dressage pic, sorry I have no pics from that day, I was hiding from rain!

His trot work wasn't bad, I was quite happy actually. Then as soon as I asked for canter, he flipped his nose in the air like an Arabian and threw a little fit, then hurled himself into canter.

End result -- 7's on trot work and collective gaits, yay! 5's for canter work, not-so-yay. Overall, a 40.5 which given Solo's said mental status, I would take. And the fact that cold rain was pouring in my face during the whole test.

Mgmt had decided to run the HT in a classic format, so XC was next. But they hadn't gotten enough staff to run more than two disciplines at once. So I sat in the truck for two hours staring grimly out the windshield while Solo munched hay in the trailer.

The XC course itself was very small, but well-built, with lovely jumps. Unfortunately, they'd set the pace at 300 mpm, which is really too slow for any attempt at even fake XC -- even trotting 1/3 of the course, we ended up with 7 speed penalities for going too fast, but I did not want Solo get too slow or engage in any backwards riding. The POINT of XC is to teach a horse to be forward and bold to jumps and a time that slow is rather counterproductive, as lower levels are supposed to teach a horse and rider in preparation for upper levels. So I was more than happy to take my penalties, rather than discourage my horse from doing what his is supposed to do!


A nice random pic -- oh I wish it had been that sunny that day!

Stadium was very small too, but again, lovely jumps and good footing (it had been a bit slick on XC, although the rain had stopped). Solo had also apparently stepped in a puddle of glue, as his feet seemed stuck to the ground. As I told him on course, "Buddy! We're doin' it, but we're doin' it UGLY!" But the poles stayed up and we put in a clear round.

With our speed penalties and canter tantrums, it put us in 3rd place, but I was fine with that -- overall, I don't think we gained anything from it, which I regretted a bit, as it was just too small to be a challenge for Solo. However, it did at least give me a chance to see where we were with our dressage and emphasize that the canter is DEFINITELY our next project!!

Read More

In Which The Universe Turns In On Itself

Fall 2009. Version II of the HT we did this spring. It started as a cold drizzly day. And to share the punishment, I give thee no pictures because we couldn't con any friends into accompanying us that day.

Dressage time was around 9:30-ish. I'm on my horse and head up to the ring in the drizzle and my black coat at 9:00. As hooves hit footing, some woman on a horse in the warmup ring informs me, "Oh, you're next!" That popping sound you heard was my eyeballs rolling in and striking each other.

WTF? As politely as possible, I said, "But my time is not for like 30 minutes?"

"Oh," she says, "I think you might be mistaken about your time." Yeah right, random lady, your dressage time is like the one piece of information you make SURE you know before you even leave the house for a horse trial. I screw up a lot, but I'm pretty damn sure I got one number right.

However, leaping off your horse to pummel random riders at horse trials does not generally endear oneself to management, so I ask if we can at least trot around first? She says sure and I assume body language to assure her that I am not a happy camper. I then proceed to trot off (did I mention it was about 45 degrees and drizzly so poor Solo was quite cold and stiff).


A random Solo pic for your viewing pleasure...several years old, as I am noticing the distinct lack of neck muscle.

After a couple minutes, in which I trot around in fury, trying to relax enough to get Solo approaching the edge of suppleness, a guy approaches me who looks much more like an official steward and says there are four riders before me to go. THANK YOU! I am much relieved, thank him profusely, and return to my warmup. However, my dressage zen is blown (hey, let me pretend it existed, ok?). I do my test, but it is tense, feels counterbent, and I leave the ring furious.

I stomp (at least mentally, I do try to keep childish outburst internal) back to my trailer to sulk for a while before stadium. At least it has stopped raining.

In a moment of show-day-kindness, a friend pulls her rig up next to mine -- she is showing her new horse that day in the Maiden division. Yay, now I have someone to talk to!!!

In an even larger moment, I go check the leaderboard and discover that for our stiff dressage test, the judge has bestowed upon us a 37.4! Now, please step back as I jump up and down with a hearty YEEHAW! We have finally broken the 40 barrier, which had previously seemed impenetrable to all our efforts! Now the world is a much brighter place.

Grin firmly planted on face, I head back to the trailer to share the news and Solo and I are sitting in fourth place.

Stadium Jumping
I am a bit nervous going into stadium. I had just moved Solo to a new (improved!) farm and our schooling that week had pretty much resulted in a battlefield strewn with poles and jump standards. Ouch. So I wrapped my legs around that horse, sat down, and WENT.

Tension got the better of me -- there was a tight turn to fence 3, I overshot, got all floppy and useless in a panic and Solo jumped through the MIDDLE of the oxer. I heard the poles scatter behind us, but the big red boy kept going, so I set my jaw, looked ahead and we finished the rest of the course with no further difficulties. It was my mistake, so I took my 4 penalties, decided I was satisfied (it was a tough course that took down many with stops and crashes) and went to look up our XC time.

Cross Country
The course was walked, every conceivable form of protective boot applied to Solo, my vest zipped up, and both of entered the start box with bright eyes. The thing I love most about this facility's courses is that she wheels the beginner novice course at about 425 mpm -- so you get to RUN. And run we did. And were one of only two to go double clear XC in our division.

Then it was time for a giant wormhole to open, time to turn upside down, the universe to implode and the unthinkable happen.

Wait for it....

WE WON OUR DIVISION. I actually read the score sheet about 5 times because I was SURE there had been a typo. But typos there were not and first we indeed were. We got a shiny blue ribbon AND a blue bucket full of goodies. And I pranced. I pranced all the way back to the trailer to track down friend and share much giggling and exclamations and glee. I snapped a quick shot of my tired boy wearing his hard earned decoration and loaded up the truck.

Maybe there was hope for us after all...

Read More

Painful Plodding Progress

Dressage and I have a love/hate relationship.

I love it.

It hates me.

I grew up riding dressage, right down to the German guy making me sit the trot with the crop in my tiny kid-elbows and many a day on a longe with no stirrups. Of course, your body has no issues at age 10 and all was easy.

At age 30, I am lopsided and my lower back is a mess. I clench my jaw, my left arm goes rigid, my knees are tense and my neck always resembles a rock. Not really conducive to stellar dressage performance. *sigh* And Solo, of course, with supreme generosity, constantly reminds me of this fact.

But we keep trying.

Our lessons were pushing us forward into new territory though. Instead of a mostly inverted ride with a few strides here and there on the bit, we slowly pushed the proportion towards the opposite end of the continuum. We started to be able to stay soft and on the bridle, say, across the diagonal, oh praise the gods and goddesses!

Practice consisted of endless transitions, but Solo began to "get it." He now stepped forward into trot over his back and stayed light in the hand. We could halt by simply keeping the contact and closing the thigh (well, most of the time). This stuff, small as it was, was HUGE for us.

We also needed more mileage in the arena. We dragged ourselves to a dressage show. With Dressage People (who quite enjoy white polo wraps and quoting Podhajsky). They are quite different from Eventing People (who quite enjoy laughing and beer). I was showing Training Level Tests 2 and 3.

To me, Training Level is just a beginning platform. The horse doesn't need to be perfect, just moving into contact and staying mostly balanced and supple throughout the test. Many Dressage People think the Training Level horse should go around in a perfect frame and generally move like a Fourth Level horse. I guess winning that saddle pad for Training Level Test 2 on your FEI horse is really gratifying for some people...

My point (if there is one) is that I fully expect to score lower at a Dressage People Show than I do at a Combined Training or Horse Trials simply because there is a slightly different perspective and focus both from competitors and judges. (Don't take offense, my dressage-y friends, I love you! But you know how some of those DQ's are!)

But I digress! We were there for mileage and mileage we got. I was overall very happy with Solo; aside from some initial jumpiness no doubt caused by me generally having all the relaxation of a boulder, he warmed up really well. Upon entering at A for our first test, I resumed boulder-status, so the test was just a weeee bit tense.



I did however, resume the ability to breathe for the second test and it felt much better.



Ironically, we scored one point higher on our first test. Judges...who can ever understand them? But we had some nice moments and even took home a sixth place ribbon for Test 2, so I was content with the day.


Next stop: 2009 Fall Horse Trials. In which Bad Things happen, Good Things happen, and generally, the Winds of Change keep on a-blowin'.

Read More

Funding!

We needed a dressage Obi-Wan to help us channel the force.

We were completeing HT's without getting eliminated. We were staying in the dressage arena, doing the test in order, and not getting any jumping penalties. But we were coming in anywhere from second to last (I WON'T be last, dammit!) to a record high of fourth or fifth. I stomped my little (big) feet and said, "I wanna do better!" But it wasn't going to happen without some serious dressage improvement.

I could do an ACCURATE test all day long and that was enough to get about half the points we needed. But apparently, greedy greedy judges actually want to see roundness, bending, softness, and impulsion. Sheesh, so demanding!

Further lessons were in order. I had already found my Obi-Wan in the form of our dressage trainer, P. She was great -- but for some reason she wanted to get paid for her time, sigh. As luck would have it though, I wrote a little essay and Solo and I were awarded an educational scholarship from the Area II (our geographical region) USEA Adult Riders group, of which we are proud members.

IT WAS ON! I promptly handed over our check to P, who generously agreed to give us a seven lesson package in exchange. So we settled in to get serious about this flexibility business.

Yeah............teaching a horse dressage requires massive amounts of patience, lots of fiddling, the ability to force one's body to both relax and be strong at the same time, and did I mention patience (which I can be notoriously short on)? I began to see that there were a lot of holes to fill in, strength to build for both of us, and tricks to learn.

Our first test of our new learning adventure came quickly -- a little local schooling CT. We ended up in third or fourth BUT much more importantly, my horse was beginning to look a little more like a dressage horse and less like a 2x4 with a giraffe neck and a clenched jaw.

Both of us were bowing our heads in relief...

Along with this came more adjustability and roundness over fences as well.

I still looked like a hunter rider perched in a dressage saddle, but one or two steps at a time, Solo was starting to reach for the bit and work over his back, rather than clomp around on his forehand leaning through corners.

The focus of our work sessions changed too. I began to focus on new things:

• walk/trot transitions with no bit-snatching
• staying round through both up and downward transitions
• letting my legs wrap loosely around the horse
• no pinching at the knee (still failing daily at this one)
• leg-yields three steps at a time into and out of circles at walk and trot
• shoulder fore coming out of corners to strengthen my horse.

Most of all, we had a new rule: DO EVERYTHING RIGHT EVERY TIME. In other words, P commanded me to be insistent about my requests. If asking for a downward transition, Solo was required to stay on the bridle and moving forward without snatching or throwing his head up or me falling on his forehand. If he (or I) attempted to do so, I was to immediately push him forward back into the trot and not allow completion of the transition until it was done correctly. If it took 10 tries to get it right, than it took 10 tries. The focus and thought that went into our rides suddenly went up by several orders of magnitude. Solo had to learn that doing it right was the ONLY option he had or else I was going to just annoy the shit out of him until he gave in.

This was going to take a lot of deep breaths.

But it was working.

Read More

Did You Know Caves Kill Horses?

It's true. So Solo tells me.

The second horse trial we did this summer was down at the legendary Denny Emerson's farm so I knew his courses would be up to par with what we could expect at a recognized event. We'd been working really hard and I felt as prepared as possible.

Hiccup #1: I don't really care who I compete against, but I like to read down the list in my group just for fun. Now who should show up in our division but Teddy O'Connor's little brother. Awesome. Well, we weren't going to be winning that one unless he wigged out and leaped out of the dressage arena.

Rare horse-shaped moment in test

Hiccup #2 (which was not suspected as a hiccup until actual commencement of test): our half of the Beginner Novice division was to do our dressage test in the indoor arena. We had a covered arena at home, so I thought...no biggie. Hah.

We warmed up, things seemed to be going ok. We entered the indoor, things seemed to be going ok. I showed Solo the mirrors in the ring before the test began, things seemed to be going ok. We went down centerline, Solo's brain exploded.

For the rest of my test, I was riding a heroin-laced giraffe with rolling eyes and a gaping mouth while desperately calling, "Whoaaaaaa, boy, whoaaaaaaa..." Let's just say it didn't score that well.

I was pretty much used to being in last place after dressage. My only mortification came from the fact that David was there that day and I was horrified that he might look at the leaderboard and see our score. I chose to hide behind the trailer except when we had to go jump.

Fortunately, from the bottom, there is nowhere to go but up. While we performed the stadium course at terminal velocity (I figured better to not give Solo a chance to think about the colours), we left all the rails up.

Stadium warmup

And Denny's cross country course was, as expected, big and Totally Freaking Awesome.

Ready in the start box

Clearing Jump 1 with enthusiasm

As a friend put it, "you know you've had a good day when it ends in a shit-eating grin."
We didn't win. We didn't even place. But we finished double clear in both jumping phases and we had a blast. I really couldn't ask for more.

Read More

Keeping Memory Lane Rolling

Whew, got back from Waredaca, my mind is overflowing...will have to sort it all out at some later date.

Back to our previously scheduled programming...

We had finished the dressage show from hell.  We returned home & went back to work (attempt #3,006).

What the what?  Up & butt power??  It CAN be done!

In the meantime, we had also started jumping lessons with David O'Brien.  Who is incredibly awesome, positive, supportive, talented, & did I mention awesome?  He can bring out the best in your horse & you don't even realize how he is doing it.

Instead of simply allowing Solo to bury his forehand at the base of the jump & then hurl himself over, David had me lifting his poll & asking Solo to jump up into my hand. 

So simple, so subtle, yet it changed the whole feel of the ride and suddenly my horse was jumping rounder & smoother & more adjustably than ever before!

We did a couple horse trials.  The first was a spring event & I believe it may have been the debut of the Chestnut Mohawk.  I hate braiding.   I REALLY REALLY REALLY HATE HATE HATE braiding.  Not so much the act of braiding, but the fact that you have get up early & spend all this time fussing with it, it seemed such a fiddly & unnecessary step. 

I learned that through a simple turnout rule that braids are not required-EVER-so I whipped those clippers out & solved that little problem!   So now, we have an instant show-ring ready mane with no maintenance other than occasionally trimming the ends. I love it.


The all-important salute.  Which took me a while to adjust to, due to the fact in eventing, you only salute at the END of the test.




This was a great little log with a sloping drop behind it, very fun to ride.


In motion.


Splashy!


I love my sport because THIS is the expression you always end up with after your run!

Read More

The Road Show

I am off to Waredaca Training 3-Day Event (link on our calendar at right) to volunteer and hopefully learn a thing or two. Hopefully, someday I will be driving up there with Solo in the trailer to compete (after money falls from the sky, Solo magically learns to stay on the bit, & I figure out how to ride properly)...

Read More

The Big D

And I STILL don't mean Dallas...

I had decided, amongst all this, that screw poverty, would I really know the difference between poor and really poor? Meh, probably not, so I was going to start taking a lesson or two. I just felt that I was missing something, we just couldn't make the bridge to consistent steady progress and it was bugging the hell out of me.

We tracked down a friend of a friend who had in the past been quite competitive in both dressage and eventing. I took one or two lessons on Solo and she threw me up on her 17.2 ex-PSG Trakhener, Reitz, whose neck was also 17.2 miles long. Notice how small I look on this horse!


At that point, I figured, hell, we took some dressage lessons, let's go to a proper dressage show! Since I don't think I can write it up better than I did off the bat, I am going to shamelessly plagiarize myself and just repost the account for the entertainment of those who missed out on it the first time around.

One Month Of Bending Does Not A Dressage Horse Make

Or how about "My Horse Is A Doofus." Or “The Near Explosion of My Head and Subsequent Murder of My Horse (But I Love Him, I Swear!)” Yeah, that one’s a bit too long.

Warning, if the following post was on television, there would be a lot of bleeping.

So, yes, for some idiotic reason, I decide to enter Solo in a dressage show today. Two tests, both eventing tests, A and B. We've been doing great at home, lots of work on suppling and transitions, he's going much softer and listening well. No problem, right?

Bloody #$#%@! horse.

We get there, our ride time is supposed to be 8:42 so I get on about 8:20 and proceed to warmup. Little Steward Girl informs me that I ride next. My head explodes and I stare at her with the bloody stump that remains. Huh? She says "oh, but you don't HAVE to go, we just started early." Ok, then I'll warm up first thanks, ok? LSG says sure.

So we do a quick warmup, things seem to be fine, Solo's looking around, but moving ok, so we head into the ready spot at A. He immediately goes all tense and stupid, ignoring basically all my aids. I do my best to get him bending again on circles, judge whistles us in. As we begin our test, all semblance of order vanishes and Solo reverts to gaping-mouthed, iron-necked giraffe. My hypothesis is that he thought the little tiny white dressage arena fence was some kind of horrifying little jump and he had no idea what to do with it. Oh, and the photographer at M was also apparently bent on evil.

The test in my mind: "You bloody @#$#!! horse, slow down and relax, #%&*! Bend, dammit, bend!! I really really hate you right now." [I interject at this point to share, by the way, clamping down and mumbling curses at your horse STILL does not cause them to either slow down OR relax. You know, just in case we don't have enough data on that one.]

Can't you just see the devil lying in wait?

The test in Solo's mind: "OMG, TINY WHITE FENCES! OMG, TROLLS IN A BOX ON THE END OF THE RING! OMG, CREEPY LADY WITH A BOX ON A STICK! OMG, TINY WHITE FENCES! Oh, there appears to be some insect on my back telling me to turn rather than run right into OMG, TINY WHITE FENCES! AHHH, I WILL THROW MY BODY TO THE RIGHT AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND!"


 

Yes, it was, I'm sure, poetry in motion. I can't wait until the photographer posts the material from that *rolling eyes*

Back to warmup we went and I put Solo in trot figure 8's hoping to soften him and get him to relax more before test B. DEAR GOD, PLEASE LET THERE BE MERCY! Did I mention I don't so much enjoy dressage these days? I was praying for a jump course, praying. I love the discipline, but damn, why was it so easy when I was 12? Oh yeah, I had trained horses... Who knew it could be so hard to teach a horse to trot and canter in a circle...calmly. Despite terrifying tiny white fences.

Test B. We enter the ring. Much more acceptably. Yet in a Moment of Universal Horror, I become that person at shows I always pity but generally never am: She Who Goes Off-Course. AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Stupid, stupid stupid. In despair, I ask judge for Do-Over and we resume where I screwed up. Rest of test goes ok. It's not great, but Solo is mostly listening, although still fussing with his head and insisting on method of travel in which his body is counterbent and his nose is sideways. Apparently he must keep an eye on that Tiny White Fence. We complete. I am happier. BUT OUR SCORE IS WORSE. Apparently the universe has no mercy after all.

At the end of this, we did end up with 2nd for test A -- by default the organizer tells me (ouch!). I don't know what happened, everyone else must either have not shown up or had their horses leap out of the ring and gallop away. They did have pretty ribbons....sadly, our test was crap, even though the kind judge gave us a 41 and was even nice enough not to laugh or gasp in horror the whole time.

4th for test B. Out of four, so really, not so exciting. That one was a 49, ugh. Most of judges comments on both tests were as expected for Idiot Stiff Crooked Bad Horse. On one collective mark, she did write "must sit the canter." Eh??? I assumed I WAS sitting the canter -- here is where video would be helpful. I have no idea what she is referring to, so can't do much about that one.

I am off to eat brownies and sulk. Perhaps I should take up competitive trail riding -- you don't have to bend OR go in circles for that!

Read More

Success And Failure

Yes, you caught me, I am back! Momentarily refreshed by a beautiful trip to the Outer Banks. Got Solo moved to a new farm yesterday, which is heaven...but that's a story for another day.

Now where was I?

Oh yes, we crashed and burned. Solo had lost his confidence and I mine. We went home and undertook tarp training.

It wasn't hard -- a little grain bribery and patience soon had him standing in the center of the blue tarp without much fuss. Then we gradually added it to jumps in scarier and scarier setups and jumped over it.

Sweet, problem solved!

So we went back to the next show in the series.


It took us two tries to get over the first jump. The second jump was a huge white picket fence oxer. To which Solo responded by bugging out his eyeballs and running sideways out of the (unfenced) arena at warp speed at which point we were whistled off course for ungentlemanly behaviour (Solo doing his best to gallop sidepass and me hanging on begging him to turn).

Problem NOT solved. Obviously, Solo remembered the Scene of the Crime. And there was no way I was going to get him around that course that day.

I went and talked to the farm owner and asked if they would be leaving the course up that night and if I could return the next day to school these obviously Horse-Destroying Obstacles. She of Infinite Kindness said sure.

The next day, we returned, alone this time (with a friend for ground support) to face our demons.

Solo was nervous and refused the first jump. We got over it the second time with a little kicking, but it didn't feel good. We had the Blue Tarp of Doom set up too. Farm owner showed up, she was schooling her horse XC that day, to see how we were doing. She offered to give us a lead over the Doom Tarp and after a moment, I accepted. Lead given. Solo jumped it like a champ.

It was like a switch flipped. We continued around and all of a sudden, we were back in business. We jumped everything twice and called it a day.

I was happy, but cautious. I knew I needed to keep him set up for success. His newfound confidence was fragile and keeping goals small and achievable would be paramount for recovery.

It was time to go back home and start rebuilding the framework for our future jump by careful jump. We started at 2' courses. We worked on the exercises that the Woff had given me, insisting on a calm NORMAL canter on course before proceeding to the next jump, keeping in mind his instruction to BE FIRM and not accept doing it wrong.

I was thinking. Solo was responding. And things were beginning to change.

Read More

And We All Fall Down

We seemed to be going along ok. I tried hard to practice what Jim had shown me, especially one exercise in which you take one jump, then put your horse on a circle until he has a nice canter rhythm and THEN go to the next jump. Do not pass Go until rhythm accomplished. In typical fashion, I think I did it about 8 or 10 times and then went "Ok, fixed!" *snort*

We had a canter, sort of. It still got rushy and unbalanced easily, especially on a jump course. Solo resembled a giraffe while executing leaning, on-the-forehand turns, but there was no bucking or bolting so I considered that problem solved too!

*brushes off hands*  There, my horse is finished! (snorts even louder)

So we entered the first in a local jumper show series. No problem, right? We can jump, Solo always jumps clean, I hang on and point with gritted teeth, we'll be champions!

It began ok. The plan was to warm up in 2'6" and go to 2'9".


Then we got to jump #5. It was an option: (a) a skinny skinny with blue wavy planks or (b) a vertical over a liverpool. Solo had pretty much never refused anything so I went for the liverpool -- it's just a vertical right? And it had more room for error!

Right??!

It went like this:

Approach, approach, me staring at liverpool like an idiot.
Solo begins to stare at liverpool, informing me that there may indeed be hoof-feeding sharks in there.
I tell myself, Look up, you idiot!, while at that same time staring down at Solo staring in horror at that Blue Tarp of Doom.

End result -- at the last possible second, as I kick, Solo plants his front feet. I'm thrown off balance, but no big deal...oh wait, then he drops a shoulder and spins away. Depositing me neatly on the top rail while he gallops back towards the trailer wailing, "No freaking way!" over his shoulder.

I wish I had a picture!

A kind ring steward caught my horse and returned him to me. Solo's eye rolled at me, going, "OMG, you are supposed to stay on me! WTF are you doing down there??! What just happened??"

I glared at him silently as I climbed back on and in one of my (not) finer moments, growled under my breath, I don't like you very much right now, horse.

Hosting trainer kindly lowered the jump so we could school it. I tried again. Solo planted his feet again and jumped sideways again. I stayed on this time, but caught him in the face as he jumped and his front feet popped up a little in surprise. There nothing like hearing onlookers gasp while you are riding. It pretty much makes you want to slink under your trailer like a dog that just got whacked in the butt with a newspaper.

Judge suggested maybe we just jump something else to end on a positive note. Solo suggested that maybe I go f@ck myself instead. There was nothing left to do but retire gracefully.

We went and schooled the XC course there instead, I couldn't stand the thought of going home without SOMETHING positive. Of course, as soon as he saw THOSE obstacles, Solo was quite happy to gallop and leap over anything I pointed him at.

We loaded up and went home, my head hung in shame. Both of us with shattered confidence. I had never fallen off Solo before and it made his world fall apart.

My plan: stare blankly out the windshield wondering, Now what the hell do I do?

Read More

And Then There Was The Woff

Unless you live in some kind of cave, Jim Wofford is a household name in the horse world. And in eventing-land, he is synonymous with God. Only funnier and less likely to smite.

For over a decade I had longed to ride with "The Woff," (that's right guys, it's skill, humility, & humour that make thousands of women long for you) but considered it about as likely as being recruited to the Olympic team (read: probability = zero). Until I got a flyer about a Wofford jumping clinic being held about two hours from me.

Oh yeah, baby, I pounced. That check got written so fast that the pen burned a hole through the register. And on a cool fall morning in 2008, we trailered up to the mountains for two days of immersion in The World According To Jim.

Each day started with a sit down lecture for about an hour in a room with a whiteboard where Jim drew diagrams, answered questions, and postulated his great theories on how eventing should be done. Just like his writing, it was steeped in experience, insight, humour, and a passion for the horse. I mostly sat there with a stupid look on my face, staring in awe.

Then we'd go get horses ready and move out to the understated little arena at the hosting farm.

It was freaking gorgeous.
I started out so excited -- jumping is our strong suit, so I was sure we were just going to blow Jim away with Solo's boundless heart and enthusiasm coupled with his easy going and calm demeanor. We started to warm up as Jim set up his gymnastics. Then I asked for the canter.

Then my horse vanished into thin air and was replaced by a hopping, bucking, bolting, snorting beast of an animal to whom I claimed no ownership. I was mortified. And Solo -- I mean SatanSpawn, bless his heart, was kind enough to keep it up for the entire clinic.

I dealt with it as best I could, namely, 40,000 half halts, swearing under my breath, getting left behind half the time, and perfecting the leaning circle at terminal velocity. And Jim, in his infinite patience and kindness, refrained from laughing.

Each day started with progressive gymnastics, with an emphasis on a soft, quiet rhythmic approach (which we failed, mostly dismally) and letting the horse work out problems for themselves, as they would be REQUIRED to do on a XC course, where, when the rubber hit the road, the ability of the horse to think for itself was critical!

Then we'd string a few fences together in exercises that varied each day. One of my biggest problems when jumping is that my mind tends to go blank as soon as I start a course. I walk it, I analyze it, I get all prepared, then I get on my horse, and as soon as the whistle blows, all my planning coalesces into an internal monologue like this:

Ok, canter, OMG JUMP, ahhhhh, SLOW DOWN, dammit another jump, AHHH TURN TURN TURN, OMG, no we have to jump THAT ONE!

Yeah, the picture of composure. So as we were doing several exercises, I could hear Jim calmly asking, "Where are you going? The jump is over here?" But he was able to give me some great tips on being a THINKING rider, instead of a reacting one.

Getting tips from the Master
We didn't leave out our dressage either of course -- my lovely mount, SatanSpawn, decided to practice his levade mid-lesson over a terrifying blue jump.

We worked it out in the end.
We left that weekend with a LOT to think about. Jim really changed my approach to riding and training, building on what I had learned from Ian Stark and reinforcing the fact that as riders, we really need to be thoughtful about what we are teaching our horses. A horse can learn something with as little as ONE repetition. So lessons like "you WILL be on the correct lead every time" and "you WILL have a calm, rhythmic canter before proceeding to the next jump" are ones that we are teaching (or UNteaching) every day by insisting that these things WILL occur and not proceeding until they do.

There was much much more of course, but in the interest of moving forward, I will leave you with that. Next time: Tales Of The Blue Lagoon And Confidence Lost.

Read More