Showjumping at Tonimbuk

Amazing Dawn

It seems to me that all horse events require you to get up at dawn. Or earlier. Luckily, today's dawn is perfect. Fog lies low in the valley. As the sun rays creep over the mountains, the clear sky takes on amazing shades of yellow, orange and blue - like the intense colours seen on those Australian outback vases.

Crownie comes in for a feed, the kookaburras laugh, laugh and laugh.

The Drive

We get away about half an hour late. Where did the time go? Next time I'll get up before dawn. I am calm. We have time up our sleeve. I settle into a weird feeling of relaxed and apprehensive. Then I notice the country side. We are driving through a white wonderland. I flick the temperature button in my car - it's zero degrees C outside. Wow! No, it's not snow. All the rolling hills, all the paddocks, the entire roadside is covered in white, glittering frost. I am fascinated by sparkling gates and signs, by twinkling wisps of grass at the edge of the road, by white furry fence posts. The perfect morning.

The Lesson

We manage five minutes of walking as a warm up (I would have preferred 30, but we know where that went), then we go into the indoor arena. The jumps are tiny, even I could trot over them. I relax and focus on the walk, trot and canter, as indicated by the instructor. We warm up on both reins, then we start with a grid. The grid progresses from a single cross rail, to three cross rails - with a bounce and two strides in between. Crownie keeps trotting over them without a fuss. That's the problem. Trotting. There is no jump. This might be fine at one foot high, but it isn't going to cut it as the rails go up. The instructor gets me to collect her a bit, and then she attempts to duck out. I correct her immediately, and we still make the entire grid. This is good. This is what I have been waiting for - to see how serious she will get about refusing. Not very serious. Good horse. The instructor adds two straight jumps (about one foot high), and we have a course. I am told (repeatedly) to hold my hands down and still and to collect, collect, collect. Crownie responds well, she goes around the course, no refusals, but also no real jump. At the end of the lesson the instructor suggests that she is ready for much more collection, and that we need to do heaps of transitions.

Showjumping warm-up

I do about 30 minutes of warm-up. Serious warm-up. I ask for Crownie to be on the aids and we do walk, trot and canter. Circles. Rein changes. She feels amazingly supple. This is a very different horse to the one I started with six weeks ago. She's like a concertina. I can bend her sideways, I can collect her, and I can extend her. I can't extend too much, or she just gets flat, but a little bit is ok. Same with collection. I am getting some good, solid working paces. Then we relax for the next 40 minutes as we wait our turn to jump. Every 10 minutes or so we do a few circles, get into a nice working trot, and pop over a couple of cross rails. Then we have another break.

The course

Mounted, we walk around the course. It's a nice course. 10 jumps, one double, two or three oxers, a couple of cross rails, two changes of rein. Both the first and last jump towards the arena exit - good. Inviting.

Showjumping - 45cm

We are over the first jump and away. After the second, Crownie considers heading straight for the exit, so the corner (tightish) is very unbalanced, but we manage to jump (yes, jump) three and four. The next jumps just flow, and before I know it I'm heading into jump 10. My biggest problem is to do an elegant turn after the last, without knocking over the organisers. Overall, a very nice clear round. It is obvious that the tight turns need more work.

Showjumping - 60cm

This looks high to me. I know Crownie is capable of jumping it in principle, but, she is untested. We start off in trot, she jumps the first and goes into canter. The corner takes us off balance, we go back to trot, and have a rail down. Next jump, one more rail. Then we're back in canter and the course starts flowing again. Next tight corner - loss of balance, trot, canter, jump. Pop, pop, pop, the jumps feel tiny. Last jump, I get a bit unseated, but we're over and careering into the organisers ... whoa! ... well almost. Overall three rails down, and a smiling rider.

Afterthoughts

I can't believe it. We've survived the day. I am ecstatic. I am shaking. I know, I know, we've only jumped a 60cm freshman's round, and we had rails down, but to me, we've won the Olympics. On the way home I shed a private tear. Cross country, here we come.