Sorry the first bit of the test is missing. We scored a 38.6.
A feel for the terrain. This shows about 1/4 of the course, maybe a bit less.
Oops #1: Pilot's legs cease to function at jump 16.
This didn't help matters. But third time's the charm.
Overjump that ditch much? And I only have one stirrup. But now we're headed home with the triumph of course completion.
The kiss of death. But an unfair situation all around for the orange beast and I.
But he tried so hard for me. Thanks, buddy.
Sometimes it's not about winning. Sometimes it's not even about getting a score. Sometimes it's just about trying with everything you've got. We might not have impressed anyone on the scoreboard but we accomplished some really big things for a horse that some have never believed in.
Thank you, Solo, for hanging in there for as long as you could! Thanks, mom, for everything!
Yes, I got to spend 5 hours in the ER in the wee hours of this morning, which lifeshighway was kind enough to drive me to.
In my silly slow fall in stadium yesterday morning, I didn't think I hurt anything, walked away fine. Four hours of driving later & I was crippled & pain skyrocketed in the evening so I decided to get it checked out. Hey, I've paid my deductible for the year, I've got to use this while it lasts...for a whole 'nother month.
So for now, I'm on crutches with a knee immobilizer till I can get in & consult with orthopedist. MOM, I TOLD YOU NOT TO READ THIS - I WILL BE FINE!
I am off to meet with chiropractor (mine, not Solo's) this morning anyway, but before I disappear in a busy day, I will at least let you peruse our cross country course at the beautiful Virginia Horse Center. Where it is very VERY hilly.
Starting with a BIG steeplechase. I think the brush was about 3'6" or so.
R and the beautiful pup Lily try to escape my silly pictures.
Downhill to the coop at 6.
Turn left & go down some more to a nearby rolltop at 7.
Log with one stride to drop.
Backwards view of 8 A/B.
Charge up a steep hill to 9.
R shows a bugeyed me how to jump the corner at 10. I am grateful I don't have to jump his prelim corner next door.
BIG WIDE steeplechase at 11.
Fat log downhill from 12 A with a steep downhill behind it.
A Himalayan mountain mid-course!
This table was WIIIDE
At the water. Jump in over 16, one stride into water, jump out over evil flag in the back.
A drive-by posting before the Flying Solo rig heads north! Ride times for VA are up; Solo and I will go
Dressage - Saturday the 21st, 11:34 am Cross Country - Saturday the 21st, 4:06 pm Stadium - Sunday the 22nd, 11:52 am
Dying to check results? You can click here to check and see if any live scoring is available.
I have a long list of friends that I hope to be able to watch at some point; one can only hope that things won't be as crazy as last time. Keep all your appendages crossed for to make it 'round clean and safe!
*insert music indicative of impending adventure and uncertain outcome*
Here we are, at the top of the page show below -- officially listed in the TRAINING RIDER division at the VA Horse Trials! Wahoo, I'm so excited I may actually pop! (you can click it to enlarge)
Since the horse trials are co-scheduled with a Preliminary 3-Day Event AND a CCI*, this is going to be a PACKED house this weekend. I am trying to imagine the chaos of last fall and multiply it accordingly but I am sure I have underestimated.
We'll be sharing the stabling rows with many folks including Boyd Martin (OMG, EN John will be missing Boyd-rides!!), Cathy Wieschhoff, Kim Severson, Holly Payne, Karen O'Connor, Lauren O'Brien (I have to root for my jumping trainer's wife!!), Lauren Keiffer, Rebecca Howard, Sinead Halpin (still high off her recent fabulous performance, I am sure!), Nina Fout, Sally Cousins, Jan Byyny (back and healthy competing at Intermediate, wow!), and Hannah Sue Burnett. Thankfully not in my division!
We have officially completed our first outing at Training Level! It was our favourite local venue, who hosted a schooling show with a Combined Training option (dressage and stadium only).
Highlights:
(1) WE WON FIRST PLACE. In our division which consisted of...me. ROFL. I let the organizer keep the ribbon for later use.
(2) We scored our lowest score on a single dressage movement ever! Yes, that is a big "3" for the right lead canter depart. Or as Solo translated it, the leaping, twisting buck that led to cross canter that led to running trot which finally culminated in a right lead. I figured I better just sit there until he sorted his shit out. The rest of our canter work was equally craptastic. Apparently accidentally feeding Solo two breakfasts was not the best idea.
(3) Solo DEFINITELY knows he is an event horse. After dressage, we met with our saddle fitter to work on dressage saddle. Solo kept gazing wistfully at the cross country field and finally blew a big bucking tantrum during my trial ride because I ALREADY DID DRESSAGE, IT'S TIME FOR JUMPING, DAMMIT. Amazing how he suddenly became totally calm once I started putting the jumping boots on...
(4) 3'3" stadium jumping is not a problem for Solo. He only pulls rails when his pilot forgets to properly ride the jump. 4 penalty points for me.
(5) I need to do two dressage tests at horse trials. While our test had moments of ok-ness (hey, we figured out how to make centerline "relatively straight"), our dressage saddle trial ride AFTER the test was simply awesome, complete with fantastic trot extensions and transitions. Sigh. To do #457: add mini-test to warmup routine.
Overall, I think the CT served its purpose well, pointing out the spots I need to ride better. Solo jumped really well again, which I am beyond thrilled about. I even used the studs since the ground was wet and I know that venue has slippery clay hiding beneath. Lesson: road studs are NOT enough for lots of grass and clay.
Tomorrow: clean things AGAIN. Plan. Maybe write stuff on the calendar and erase it and write different stuff. Fantasize winning blue ribbon in VA and then laugh at hubris. Fantasize completing VA with a qualifying score for Training 3-Day and pat self for realistic goal. Find someone to talk to other than weird self.
I may or may not be an eensy teensy bit OCD (shush now, lifeshighway). I like to plan. Although generally my plans become playthings of the fates. I like to colour-code. Although there always seems to be one more category than I have colours.
Solo has a Google calendar (of course he does) but it frustrated me endlessly that I could only view one month at a time. I wanted multiple months viewable at once so I could get an at-a-glance feel for things and I didn't want them to be tiny. So I may or may not have heard angels singing from parted clouds when I stumbled upon a giant dry-erase 90/120-day calendar at Office Depot.
Now, I feel so much satisfaction I think I might pop. This is what April looked like.
In all its three months of glory, below. Blue is for horse trials/shows, green is for lessons, red is for vet care, and black is for miscellaneous notes. Every time I look at it, I feel like I need a cigarette or something afterwards...
Saturday is a local unrecognized CT. Which will also be our first foray into Training Level. My plan was to use it as a perfect prep for Virginia HT next week. It was all falling into place beautifully. I was even excited, EXCITED (probability of that happening: 1 in 10,000,000), about the Training Level Test B that we are to perform in VA; it suited Solo well and made him all supple and bendy.
Until I checked out the details of the class list for this weeks show.
It's a completely different test with less bending, larger gaps between transitions, and the extended canter on a straightaway. I don't like it. Test B left me with a better horse at the end of it. Test A leaves me a horse who just wants to extend his canter all the way around the whole dang ring. He's really digging this extended gait thing.
We worked through Test A with P the Dressage Wonder Coach last night. I failed to make my brain focus (oooo, shiny!) and both Solo and I had a temper tantrum or two, but I came out with some tips to focus on for Saturday:
-Really use the corners to bend and package the horse, especially right before the extended trot diagonals.
-All the movements are short so even if Solo gets pissed, he'll get to do something different in about five or six strides.
-Make sure the medium walk marches forwards so we get a swinging free walk on the short diagonal.
-Don't let the 15 m circles get too big.
-Prep early for the left lead canter at M.
-DON'T LOCK YOUR OUTSIDE REIN.
If I can pull off these six teensy little things, then I'll call it good. Even though it won't be the same test as next weekend, I think it will be some good ring mileage and a chance to also jump a Training stadium course before it really really counts.
The next two days will be Solo holidays so he hits Saturday rested and ready to rock. I make no predictions, but assuming I can get my brain to switch on, I am optimistic about our prospects for a decent go.
Talking to a friend the other day. She was having an SFH day & fancied herself failing at progressing with her partner. I think this is something we all struggle with.
I told her to take a deep breath. It's dressage. We generally always feel like we're failing at that, so it's totally normal.
If your shoulders ache & you feel like you want to scream & you call your horse very nasty names...you are in good company (or at least my company, whose quality may at times be questionable, but is, on occasion, quite entertaining).
The Hard Lesson That Forward Is Sometimes Backwards
We think, "Well, I have taught Dobbin skill X (say, not trotting around like a freaking giraffe), so Dobbin should therefore perform skill X whenever I ask him to." The knowledge has been implanted in his pea brain, so let's move on. Right?
Assume Stands For...?
Dobbin will, some days, spontaneously forget that you have ever ridden him. The next day, you will swear he is the second coming of Ravel. The day after that, well, he will probably be lame, so you won't have to worry about it. He is a horse, after all.
We, too, may spontaneously forget how to ride. I may be cursing Solo's very name wondering why he won't stay soft in the bridle. Only to find that my arms are clenched in a steely death grip & I'm leaning forward. Oops.
How, then, are we ever supposed to make progress in light of this maddening, meandering "process?"
Take Heart
You are NEVER alone. Every single person out there trying to teach a horse something is going through the same thing. If they say they haven't, they are a flat liar. And it doesn't just happen once. It happens over & over & over & over. And then it happens again.
The very fact that your horse displays resistance can mean that you are challenging him. This is a good thing! You cannot make progress unless you push the boundaries a little.
Staying patient & riding through are EXTREMELY hard skills to master. But they do come with practice. Solo is a jedi of the redheaded temper tantrum & he can raise my blood pressure to the stratosphere. But I have more tools than he does; I have flexions & transitions & laterals & all kinds of instruments of sandbox torture that will eventually either distract him or wear him out. All I have to do is...
JUST. KEEP. BREATHING.
The horse you are sitting on will change every single day. If you try to ride Yesterday's horse today, your chances of success are slim. As soon as your butt touches that saddle, you have to ride Right Now's horse.
The Answer? Adapt
Very often, I go in the arena, thinking, "Well, Yesterday Solo had some really nice canter transitions, so today we'll add lateral work at the canter." Only to find out that Today Solo has forgotten how to do a downward transition without snatching the bit out of my hands.
I must then alter my ride plan to set up Today Solo to succeed. Tomorrow Solo might suddenly remember lovely transitions but decide he's just not feeling shoulder-in.
In biology, we call this adaptive management: change the plan on a continuum, based on feedback from the data you have now. The more data you gather, the more you tweak & tailor your plan. It prevents us from becoming mired in a static process that "seemed like a good idea at the time."
Be willing to adapt to the Today Horse. Never be afraid to ask for help. And never forget to step back & breathe.
If It Was Easy, We'd Run Out Of Blue Ribbons
Horse training is a little bit science, a little bit art, a little bit luck, & a whole lot of trial & error. Each horse is different; what is easy for one may be very difficult for the next & they all have their unique quirks alongside moments of brilliance.
So take it one day at a time. If you feel yourself getting hot under the collar, take a break, take a breath, take stock of who your Today partner is.
The horse doesn't know what your original goal was. So far as he's concerned, you were planning on taking a quiet hack through the field all along. Bingo: you both win!
Friday was a busy day. Solo and I met with P to review the Training Level dressage test we'll be doing in Virginia. It started ugly, with Solo insisting on being a redhead, throwing himself around and whining in protest. I stopped, took a deep breath, replaced the rage with zen and we started over.
The test is far more complex than we've done before -- which turned out to be a good thing! Figures and transitions fire in rapid succession, which means Solo never had time to get all stiff and brace-y, which means all of a sudden, I had a supple horse on my hands!
In bigger news, though, Friday was Stud Hole Installation Day. And I don't mean a pit filled with cabana boys. Although that would have been exciting too.
Having never seen the process of drilling and tapping shoes, I of course had to whip out the camera to capture Stud Master Johnathan (aka Hoof Shaper Extraordinaire and Fixer Of All Solo Foot Problems) as he single-handedly wrestled uncooperative steel shoes into submission. It looked strikingly similar to convincing Solo to do dressage.
First you drill the holes.
Then you use the tap to cut threads in the steel.
Solo supervises.
Then you install the shoe while the dogs mug you for hoof bits.
This process was HARD work. I suspect that Johnathan may have chased me off with the hoof nippers if I had asked him to do all four feet. Luckily for his shoulders, I did not want to stud the front shoes -- I do not want to slow down Solo's front feet while galloping and jumping as that would seem to court disaster for over-reaches and blown out tendons.
The end result: four nice neat holes, shown here with plugs intact. And of course, four lovely reshod feet, which is a typical result when Johnathan applies his awesomeness to the Shiny Red Beast.
Yesterday, I screwed in four road studs for our jump school just to see how everything worked. Lesson: screwing in studs is a meticulous process that takes a long time. Will not be doing that unless I have to!
I am now off to read even more about studs while hoping that I don't manage to make any giant mistakes and hurt my horse. No pressure or anything.
I stopped by the local post office. Which means our three lucky contest winners, Braffie, molly, and sumaclab, will be receiving an exciting giant envelope soon. Some sooner than others since for some reason Mr. Shiny favoured the Canadians with his nose! My apologies for the delay but Solo takes forEVER to address a package. Just because he has no thumbs...
Yesterday morning, Solo and I met with P for a dressage lesson to chat about the new challenges the Training Level test has to offer. Basically, it adds 15 meter canter circles, extended trot, extended canter on a circle, and a stretchy circle. Both extended gaits only ask that you develop them, which allows for more gradual transitions, easier on horse and rider. Solo loves nothing more than stretching so I think we're good there as well.
Tonight we did a very small jump school. BO had set up a four-bounce gymnastic line that I wanted to work, as well as a couple of oxers.
The gymnastic went great -- I only set the jumps at about 2', except for the last one which was maybe 2'9" or so. I wanted to focus on the rhythm and letting Solo work it out. He worked through great as we added one vertical at a time until he bounced through all four, curling beautifully over the last.
Then we rode each oxer, the first I set with barrels beneath it, the second I spread a big blue tarp under to mimic a certain liverpool that will be coming up soon. Wow, it's amazing how nicely jumps flow when I just keep my leg on.
After Solo jumped each one, I felt a little catch in my throat. My horse was finally strong enough that he was jumping casually up and around each jump, using muscle and balance instead of simply hurling himself to the other side. This is a really big deal for a giant-shouldered-downhill-motivated beast. So, yeah, I was pretty much speechless -- this means that Sunday WASN'T a fluke. This means...watch out, Training Level, here we come.
Solo's had the week off while I have been dragging boats through the mud at work. Even while being attacked by nettles and mosquitoes, I was coasting on a multi-day post-horse-trial high.
I finally got back in the saddle in today's perfect sunshine and we took to the woods. Between flushing turkeys and quiet rat snakes, under crying catbirds and bickering redtails, there was plenty of time to breathe and think.
Shouldn't you be annoyed, my brain queried? You finished LAST, out-competing only those poor souls who had the shoddy luck to get eliminated.
Yeah, I told its annoying whine, but 2/3 of it was a GREAT ride.
I made mistakes. Big mistakes. I'm pretty sure anyone watching me thought, oh dear, that poor girl, who let her in? So by all rights, I should be mad about it, right?
Here's the thing: I'm still thrilled about it. And THAT is the reason I love this sport, the reason all my friends are rolling their eyes because I sound like this: "eventing horse horse eventing eventing eventer horse jump eventing eventing horse evented eventing."
It's because at the end of the day, it's not all about the ribbon. Although note that I will still squeal like a little girl if I ever win a ribbon.
But what it's all about is my journey with my horse.
It's all about how exciting that round, powerful jump felt underneath me on Sunday because that jump didn't exist two years ago.
It's all about the lessons in pace and balance I finally managed to digest and apply to my courses.
It's all about seeing myself finally starting to THINK while I am riding.
It's all about my pride watching my red horse grow and develop into an athlete.
It's all about the sheer joy of watching his ears search out and lock onto obstacles, showing me that he knows and loves his job.
That is why I'm not mad. Because the only person I am competing with is myself. The only test is whether we can go out there and put in a better performance than we did the time before, whether we can conquer harder tasks with a more developed skillset.
Because when we're out there on course and my center is balanced over Solo's and I can feel the energy from his hind legs finally pushing up into the bridle and I can fly on the arc of his bascule over a broad table, I know exactly what it's all about. When I can feel that, it doesn't matter if I am first or 20th or 500th.
There, in that moment, there is no question why we do it. There is only the doing and the fervent hope that we get the chance to do it again.
After sleeping off Saturday's exhaustion, Sunday's task seemed so simple: jump one little course and then go home. Easy peasy, right? Ha!
Back in my magistrate suit I went -- only, no, wait, blessed be all things, jackets were waived!! The heat and humidity climbed and as a result, I was given a reprieve from the silly outfit!
I walked the course early in the morning with C and EHF and watched some Training and Prelim rides. I had it down pat.
Only to discover as the Training divisions ended that the Novice course was completely different. Of course it was.
EHF and I dutifully walked the course again. Bobby Costello was out with that damn cute puppy, so we had to take a break for some petting as well. EHF was drawn in by the puppy eyes...
The time came. Warmup felt good. I concentrated hard on jumping Solo up into the bridle as per David's instructions. Keep the leg on, keep the hand soft, but stay connected to the horse...
We went into the arena and we rode all 8 jumps. It felt fantastic. I rode forward to each jump, kept Solo balanced and focused, and the distances just happened as we rolled along in rhythm. I only wobbled at the combination - Solo wasn't quite in front of my leg, I peeked a little at the first element, which the previous horse had refused, and we got a bit of a bumpy ride there, but it was all clean.
I was STOKED! THAT is how we are supposed to ride! I patted my boy and rode to the exit gate after 8 successful leaps. The ring steward stared at me and would not lower the string.
I glanced around worriedly. Was I supposed to do a trick to get out? Had I forgotten some secret ritual? Then I noticed the time clock.
It was still running.
"Hey, my time is still going!" I told the steward. "Yes, it is," she answered cryptically. I look around some more, standing by the gate in a confused stupor.
"Number 9! Number 9!" I hear some guy muttering from his golf cart.
Pssshhh, I thought, 9 isn't my number, why is that guy so weird??
Finally, I look behind me and damned if there isn't NINE JUMPS ON THE COURSE. "OMG, I am a moron," I groan, as I turn Solo and make a beeline for the last jump, which he clears neatly.
We were just standing by the gate pondering the best approach to the last jump. I swear. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
So we have 347 time faults or so and apparently if you stop and stand there for a while in the middle of your course, you get 4 jumping faults, but I'm still laughing. And the judges are laughing, as I am sure are many of the spectators. Well, at least I can entertain a crowd! Sadly, this is not captured on video because EHF thought we were done too!!!
In the end, we finished DFL, but I feel good about it. I feel like this was the most educational and most useful of all our horse trial experiences. Despite my pilot errors, my riding was the best and most relaxed it has ever been in competition. Solo's jump rounds were both round and powerful and miles ahead of where we were a year ago.
Bring it, Virginia!
For more action shots, check out the always-beautiful work of Brant Gamma -- she captured some great stills of Solo and although I hardly need more pictures of my horse jumping things, I am sorely tempted by a few of these. Brant and her team always produce gorgeous images; they are not the cheapest but I do my best to support them because they do an exquisite job!
