Hard Riding

In comparison to all the problems I have on the ground, the riding is going brilliantly.

I always give Gally a nice warm up, where I keep the rein as loose as possible, and I do walk, trot and canter. A loop of the arena or two, on each rein. During this warm up I just focus on getting the horse going forwards.

Afterwards we get down to business. I shorten my reins, and drive him into the bit. I ask for lightness, and flexion. Once I am happy with the walk, or I feel the horse is getting bored, then I progress into trot. In trot I introduce 20m circles, and once again drive, drive, drive. Finally I will do some cantering, going large in the arena.

Throughout the entire process the main focus is drive forwards, then straightness, then lightness. This has me working very hard with the legs, heels and spurs. It also keeps my hands pretty busy, as opposed to jerky. The hands are busy correcting the horse. If the horse is travelling well, the hands stay still.

After each of these sessions the horse is sweaty, and I am hot (and sometimes sweaty). When I dismount the horse stands still, and almost follows me out of choice to the hitching rail. At the hitching rail the horse stands still, and allows me to take the bridle off without any nodding or rubbing on the rail.

Riding Time

For the past three days we have been busy with Christmas festivities. For three days I wasn't even really aware whether my horses still exist. But today I go out into the amphetheatre paddock and call out "Come on up!". The horses, eventually, trot into the red rum paddock and I go in to catch Gally.

Uh uh. Nope. He trots off. I do the Monty Roberts thing, and soon enough he stops and lets me approach. I can pat him, but the minute I try to touch his neck, he tries to bite, and trots off. Eventually I do catch him, but I realise that I have a serious problem. My horse is not happy about something.

He doesn't seem happy during brushing. He doesn't seem happy during saddling. He seems unhappy when having the girth done up. He does walk forward when I try to mount, but the riding goes well. And after the riding he is as happy as larry. He follows me around, he is relaxed. He still puts his ears back when I undo the girth, but everything else is good.

I leave the headstall on him, and put him out in the paddock.

Riding partnership

Today I take Gally out to the state forest for a ride. He is now getting much better at going forwards, and I decide to try a track that last time caused us a lot of grief.

He hesitates at the top of the track, but then ambles down it. Half way along, the track becomes quite steep, and Gally is visibly concerned about it. I let the reins out and just hold them at the buckle. His head goes right down to the ground, as he sniffs the path. Then, slowly, he walks down the hill. Every now and then he stops again to sniff the path, then he continues on.

Throughout the entire descent I just sit there, in amazement, holding the reins at the buckle and not doing much else. I have a feeling of partnership. I have asked to go down this hill, and the horse listens. I entrust the horse with my safety, and he takes care of me.

This is what horse riding is all about to me. It is this sort of feeling that attracted me to horse riding in the first place. And to eventing. It is this type of feeling that I used to get as a keen teenager, when riding horses during school holiday camps. I used to go over 1m cross country jumps, and I used to feel totally safe. I used to go over 2'6" showjumps, bareback, not holding the reins, and feel totally safe.

Yet, somewhere along the way, I lost this feeling. And I have been searching for it ever since. And at times horse riding felt like just another job. Or worse, like a battle. At odd occasions the feeling would return. But it was only a fleeting moment. Not long enough to understand what I was missing, or why.

And finally, here it is. That feeling of partnership. After banging my head against the wall for years, not only do I hold this feeling in the palm of my hand, but I totally understand what makes it happen. The next challenge is to reproduce it with every horse I ride. The other challenge is to take it with me into the dressage arena, the cross country course, and the showjumping ring.

In the meantime, Gally and I arrive at a shallow ditch filled with water. I cannot resist the temptation to practice the "water jump", and this is perfect. The ditch is a mere 10cm deep, about half a meter wide, and about 5 meters long. Gally requires heaps of encouragement to step across the little moat. He doesn't even need to get his hooves wet! But it's still a very scary leap for him. We get across, then we come back. Then across again. After about 5 tries he steps across it calmly and without hesitation. Enough.

We head home.

Practice on Tornado

Now that Sabina has had a proper lesson, we need to practice her skills on Tornado.

I help her brush and saddle up. Then she just puts her foot in the stirrup and gets on. I put the reins in her hands, and expect that we will now do a similar set of exercises on the lounge as in the lesson. But no. Sabina has other ideas.

She gives Tornado a kick, then pulls him up to a stop. Then another kick, a few strides, then stop. She turns his head and rides him towards me.

"Now mama", she says, "to the state forest."

I clip a lead rope on, and off we go, to the state forest. But this time around, I am almost dispensable. Every time Tornado stops to take a look, Sabina kicks and kicks until he gets going again. The rein work is somewhat rough, but effective.

We have a great time chatting.

Sabina's lesson

Today I take Sabina to the local horse riding school for a lesson. I have decided that she doesn't listen when I try to teach her, and that if we're to enjoy our combined dream of riding in the state forest together, then she's got some learning to do.

Sabina gets a nice chestnut pony called Taffy, and the lesson includes grooming, handling and saddling instruction. Michelle the instructor is absolutely fantastic. She takes the learning right down to child level, but she doesn't skip one single thing.

For starters, Sabina is quite excited, and is bouncing up and down. Michelle gently takes her hand, and in a whisper, as though they were sharing a secret, says "Sabina, can you be as quite as a mouse?" In a split second the child is transformed, and listens intently from this point on.

Once Sabina is on the horse, Michelle gets her to do some balance exercises at the walk, such as raising her arm out, and up and touching her toes. (I'd forgotten about these!) Then Sabina practices some trot on the lounge, and finally Michelle shows her how to hold the reins and how to stop the horse. Sabina takes the learning in her stride, and you can see her little legs flapping to make the pony go forwards, and then her whole body leans back as she pulls on the reins to stop.

The session is a resounding success.

The Puddle

I ride out on Gally into the state forest. We have the usual stops, but we spend much less time arguing about whether we will go forward or not. In a few traditional stop spots he actually goes forward really well.

I feel quite confident. So confident in fact that when we come to a puddle, about 5m by 5m, I decide that we're going through it. Gally of course eyes it off with suspicion, and does not understand why we need to go through it, when he's found a perfectly good way around it.

We circle it a fair few times before he gets the tips of his hooves wet. Oooh, it's cold and wet and it may swallow him whole. He jumps to the side. We dip the hooves in a few more times before he concedes, and races through it. Yay! I leave it at that.

The rest of the ride is uneventful, but, oh so enjoyable.

Neerim Show

My job entails getting everything ready. Sabina just has to get up, get dressed, and eat her breakfast. Husband has to provide support. We depart 5 minutes ahead of time.

We arrive at Neerim showgrounds and the place is buzzing. Somehow we manage to get ready for our first class, and arrive in the ring cool, calm and collected. I can't say the same for one of the other children, who is on a much nicer pony, in much more fancy gear, but bursts out crying, and is reclaimed by the parent.

The competition is fierce to say the least. All the other ponies look fabulous, are the right weight, have shining coats and plaited manes and tails. The children are attired to perfection with fawn jodhpurs, navy jackets, and matching felt hats. The parents complete the picture with neat suits and matching hats. And then there is Sabina, in her pink jumper, pink and brown striped leggins, with her white helmet, on a very fat pinto pony, albeit clean, with mane bouncing freely.

In adition, it's obvious these kids can ride. They are holding the reins.

The judge asks us to line up, then each pony has to do a little work out one at a time. Just walk and trot. I gulp. We haven't done too much trotting. I smile at Sabina, point to the first pony as he trots and tell her "that's what we'll have to do. A trot. Do you think you can do that?". She looks seriously, then nods her head. I smile back. "Good stuff. Just hold onto your strap here, and lean back. You'll be fine." Miraculously, she is fine. Phew.

Of course we're outclassed here. There are four horses in the ring. Ribbons to third place. We walk away empty handed. Sabina's chin shakes. I give her a hug and tell her not to worry. We will just have to have another go. "We're bound to get a ribbon soon", I encourage.

In the next event, there are only two entries. We get second place. The red ribbon is tied around Tornado's neck and Sabina cannot believe her luck. As far as Sabina is concerned, she has just won the world championships. Her smile spreads from ear to ear.



We have a bit of time till the next event, but Sabina is keen to wander mounted between the rings.

"Mama, go faster", she asks.
"You mean trot?"
"Yeees!"

We trot up between the rings, then back to walk. The little girl is smiling. Another trot, and another, and another. Back and forth along the cricket pitch. We're having a ball. This is almost better than getting ribbons. Then a lady approaches us. Uh oh, I hope we're not braking some rule.

"Excuse me", she says politely.
"Hi!"
"We would like to give the little girl this", she holds up a bag with a colouring book, pencils and stickers. "It's from the organising committee." She smiles. "For sportsmanship, and just having fun."

Sabina eyes off the book with glee, but stays mounted and we do some more trotting. We do two more classes, where out of two competitors we come second. Sabina is delighted with the ribbons, but somewhat disappointed that they are all red. She was hoping to come home with a range of colours.

Never mind. She jumps in the car and pulls out her new colouring book, leaving me to pack up all the gear, and put Tornado on the float.

"Mama. Ribbons are for horses, and colouring books are for people, right?", she comments as we leave the showgrounds. I don't hear another word till we get home.

'Twas the day before the show ...

Our local horse show is on tomorrow, and we're going.

No, not Gally and I. Sabina and Tornado. Yes, off to the show to have a go at competing and seeing what it's all about.

So we bring Tornado in, and out comes the hose. Sabina does a great job in getting the pony wet. We only suffer a passing shower.

Then it's onto shampoo and sponge as she takles the body, while I scrub the mane and tail.

She leaves the hosing off to me. Then we squeegee him, dry off with towel, and wrap him in rugs.

When to quit stimulating

Last week, when I was having trouble on the cross country course at Wandin, after I was already eliminated, Jen (Gally's previous owner and rider) came up next to me and gave me some coaching. She said this. "When he has stopped and doesn't want to go forward, kick him. And as long as he is standing still, or going backwards, keep kicking him. But the minute he takes a step forwards, stop kicking him, and make sure you don't jab him in the mouth."

This is in line with Pat Parelli - when the horse has done the desired action, quit stimulating him.

So today I ride Gally into the state forest, determined to practice Jen's words to death. I don't have to wait long to get my first chance. Just a mere 300m out the last gate, Gally stops. I sit back and start kicking. He stands still, he goes left, he goes back. It feels like I am going to be kicking like that foreever. Eventually he takes a step forward. I quit kicking immediately. He takes another two or three steps forward, then stops again. I allow him a second or two to think about it, then commence kicking again. When he takes a step forward, I stop kicking. This process goes on for quite a while, maybe 5 minutes, but eventually we calmly walk past the stump and shrub that were worrying him. This is great! My first real victory. I feel terrific.

I get many more chances to practice the technique, and we get past many points that have worried Gally in the past. And each time, the process gets easier and easier. We are almost at the end of a track, and ready to head home, when I hear a noise. Motorbikes. We can't actually see them. They will pass below us, then head up to the top, and then pass behind us. But Gally doesn't know that. He just hears the noise, like a hundred growling tigers galloping somewhere beneath us. He turns and tries to head back. I hold him on the spot and eventually he calms down. But he is very suspicious of heading down that track. He gets over that too.

As we head home, we pass a puddle. It's tiny, my foot could barely fit in it, but Gally makes sure to keep a safe distance from it regardless. I laugh. We will find a bigger puddle one day, and get over this problem too. We have time.

We head back up the hill, and there in the pine plantation, in the knee high grass are four run away sheep. Gally spots the movement, and gulps. To him, they are four wolves in sheep's clothing. Of course. After a mere moment of hesitation he continues up the hill, acutely aware of the four sheep, but relaxed otherwise.

A ride that good I haven't had for a long time.

Boredom

Enthusiastically I take Gally into the arena. He goes well in the warm up, but then seems to totally lose attention in the later work. He is bored. Couple of 20m circles followed by a round or two large, followed by some more 20m circles just doesn't cut it for him. It's boring, and so he switches off.

I change my work to include serpentines, simple serpentines, and various changes of direction. Constantly changing where we go, but focusing on one aspect of riding, such as tempo, rythm, or roundness. All good.

At the end I take him for a canter up the middle ridge. He tenses slightly as the birds take off, then trots easily to the gate.

Wandin ODE

Car packed, float ready, horse won't get on the thing. Argh! Worst case scenario number one. My confidence level is plummeting very very quickly, and I am considering throwing in the towel. I call reinforcements (namely, husband), and together we get Gally on the float.

I now have about 1.5 hours of driving to reconsider my approach.

We arrive at Wandin, I put the horse in the yard, register and check out the dressage rings. All good. A thousand thoughts are running through my mind, none of them helpful. I stand up straight and think "ok, what's my problem? and what's my plan?". My problem is experience and fear. Experience has shown me that horses can freak out in new situations - new noises, new sights, flags, bunting and tents flapping madly in the wind. And I fear the worst because I've experienced the worst. So my plan is to get in that yard, saddle up the horse, and get to the warmup area for dressage. I erase all other thoughts from my mind, and presto, execute my plan to the letter.

In the warm up area I meet Gally's previous owners. The warmup goes well. I am told that I cannot take my whip into the dressage test with me. Ooops. I didn't anticipate this. Never mind. I ask for lots of forward, and ride the test. It's not perfect, but I ride well. That's what counts. The dressage judge's comments are useless, all about how the circles aren't perfect and nothing about how the horse is travelling.

After the dressage I have a short break. My, now very pregnant, horse riding girlfriend arrives with her daughter. I am greateful for the support. It's good to lighten up the atmosphere and have a laugh.

We walk the showjumping course, then it's back in the saddle and warming up over a cross rail. By now, Gally has recognised Wish, (Gally's previous owner's horse), and is more interested in following the grey mare around, whether it be over jumps or not. I'm only half way through my warm up, when my number gets called up. Oh well. "Lots of forward", I think to myself, nod to the judges and kick off over jump number one. The course flows, between jump 5 and 6 Gally neighs a soft, semi supressed greeting to Wish. At jump 8 I lose my balance and almost get it all wrong, but manage to recover, we go over 9, and get a clear round.

Now we get a longer break, which is filled with lunch, coffee, walking the XC course, organising the car, mulling over the XC course, having a lay down in the float while mulling over the XC course, and walking the XC course once again. Everything from jump 7 onwards worries me. Worst case scenario number two.

I saddle up and warm up. Gally is reluctant to go over the warm up jumps, and while I don't actually get a refusal, we do have a problem with forward. The fact that he gravitates to every grey horse, Wish herself included, doesn't help. The starter begins my countdown, and we're off. Gally shies even before we get to Thomas the Tank engine, but he clears it well. 50 metres away from jump number 2, he's already doing big eyes at it. We approach and retreat, let some horses go past, get goodness knows how many refusals, but we get over it. Three flows, 4 the ditch is easy, 5 the brush is cruisy. We slow down to trot for jump 6, then trot into the shaded alley and do 7. At 8 Gally tries to duck left and right but I get him over it. Nine, 10a and 10b is good.

He stops at the water. We don't actually need to go into it, but he doesn't see anything except the big pool of water, which of course contains some horse eating monster. And I can't actually get him to the jump. Worst case scenario number three. After a very very long time at the water, I choose elimination and move on. Refusal at 12. I come back with more drive and we're over it. Then of course he doesn't want to do 13 - a very steep slide down the hill. Jen (his previous rider) even comes over and starts giving me some coaching. The coaching is brilliant, and I really appreciate it, but in the interest of everyone's time and safety I move on, get us over 14, then through the finish flags. Phew!

The vet gives us the ok, and we're free to relax and laugh about it all.

Wish and her rider win the Training Level 5 Wandin ODE!!!

Tomorrow

Gally and I are off to Wandin tomorrow, to compete in Wandin ODE, Training Level 5. We're no way ready for an ODE, having jumped a total of about two cross rails at home. So, I am treating this outing as a clinic on steroids.

Wandin ODE being an EA (previously EFA) event, different rules apply to Adult Riding, and today I do a mad rush to Horseland in a bid to ensure I understand the rules and have all the necessary bits and pieces. By the time I walk out of the shop, the only thing I am still missing is an XC safety vest. I am assured that it's optional at my level.

As I head to bed, my sleep is marred by my mind going through all the worst case scenarios.

The shoe fits

I check on the horses in the evening. Gally's shoe is back on, shining in the torchlight like a diamond. We're all set. My world is at peace.

Dear farrier ...

I check on the horses, and find that Gally is missing a shoe. This needs to be fixed before Saturday, if we are going to make it to Wandin. I get on the phone, and in my lovliest voice leave a pleading message for the farrier, explaining my predicament.

I get on the keyboard of my mobile phone, and sms through another message to said farrier. Using lovely words, of course.

Happy Birthday Gally

Gally is turning 6 today. As it's also my daughter's birthday, a large contingent of children and adults approach the gate with carrots and helium balloons. Gally's suspicion of the balloons wanes as he savours the carrots. I don't think he cares too much about the "Happy Birthday" song though. Oh well. Then one of the balloons moves unexpectedly and Gally gallops off to hide behind Crownie. Maybe this isn't the best preparation for an ODE?

Back to Wandin

After much negotiation with husband, I complete my entry into the Wandin ODE. We will be doing Training Level 5.

Ready? No, we're not ready. But we will give it a go.

Listen to my questions

Having asked Clancy all these questions, Clancy asked me "Have you asked Anna these questions?"

Well, yes. When I started asking Anna these sort of questions she said "You just need to get on with it", and considered the topic closed.

Was I happy with that response? No. Maybe I should have pursued the topic further with Anna, but I find that this seems to be a bit of a generic problem with dressage instructors. It's like they are there to teach you dressage, and dressage is defined as riding the horse correctly. But the truth is, you cannot ride a horse correctly if that horse doesn't respect you. You need to be the boss on the ground first, before you can be the boss in the saddle.

If you're not the boss on the ground, then sooner or later something will start going wrong in the saddle as the horse challenges your authority. Some horses stop, others charge off, some buck, some shake their heads. The instructor sees the problems during riding, and just starts piling on the gear. Nose band, martingale, etc. This doesn't solve the problem. It's a band aid solution.

The instructor needs to listen to the rider's questions. And if I am trotting a 20 metre circle, and my horse is shaking his head, and I ask "why does he try to bite me when I saddle him up?", then chances are that if I can stop him biting during saddling, the head shaking in the trot will just magically go away.

It's to do with Chi, the life force, but more about that another time.

Forget Black Beauty

Another thing I brought up with Clancy last week was that deep down I am a nice soft person. A bit of a girly girl. So, by nature, am I too soft around horses?

Clancy thought a bit about my question, then asked "Have you read Black Beauty and other similar books?"

"Well ... yes".

"Well, forget Black Beauty and all those books. It's not like that. A horse, is a horse", he said calmly, but firmly. Didn't Anna say the same thing recently?

(What does "a horse is a horse" mean? It means that horses live in a herd, which has a pecking order. If you want to be respected, you need to be higher in the pecking order than the horse. The minute you are lower in the pecking order, the horse will not respect you and may stand on you, bite you, kick you, and act like he is the boss.)

When you go to war

Another thing I asked Clancy last week was "Sometimes he goes well without spurs. Should I always be wearing spurs, and carrying a whip?"

Clancy gazed at me in response, then said "Apparently Franz Mairinger once said, when you go to war, take all your necessary equipment with you."

There's not much point in leaving your dressage whip at A, and running into a problem at C, thinking "my whip would be really handy right now". You need to learn to ride selectively - use your calf when you need to, use the spur when you need to, and use the whip when you need to. And don't let your spur or your whip interfere when you're using your calf.

Needless to say, I mount up with spurs and whip today. I use my spurs a fair bit, and my whip only twice. But I am really glad both are there when I need them.

Be tough ... once

When I talked with Clancy last week I asked him "How tough do I need to be with my horse?"

The answer was "If your horse is being naughty, then do anything you need to do, to get them out of your space. The instant they have backed off, stop."

This is pretty much what Pat Parelli, and other horsemen and women, say. Except that Pat Parelli applies the 10 point scale. Start soft, and build it up. That might be fine when your horse is standing still, pretty much asleep. It's a bit different when you are trying to saddle the horse, and he is lashing out with his teeth at you.

So today when I bring Gally to the hitching rail, I don't tie him to it. I just let the rope wrap around the rail once. I put the saddle blanket on, and the teeth lash out. I retaliate with the back of my hand at break neck speed, with all the force I can muster. Gally, astounded, takes a step back. The rope slips with him. I put the saddle on. The ears go back, but no more teeth. Then I do the girth up. The teeth come at me again, and again I retaliate and Gally is forced to retreat a step.

Today, when I mount up, he doesn't try to bite me.

Response versus Reaction

The farrier arrives, and I bring Gally in for shoeing.

"Clancy, I need your help", I announce.

We talk about my problems with Gally, and Clancy (who is well versed in Monty Roberts and Pat Parelli and other horsemen) has a bit of a play with Gally. He holds the head stall with one hand, and tries to get the horse to step away from him by poking him in the ribs with the other hand (the pressure increases as the horse doesn't respond). In the end Gally cow kicks, and then moves away from the pressure.

"Did you see that?", says Clancy, seeming very pleased. I gaze somewhat bored. Of course I saw it.
"Yes", I respond politely.
"The cow kick, was a reaction", says Clancy. "The moving away was response." Pause. "I wouldn't worry about the kick. As he learns to respond, that cow kick will just go away", he concludes.

I wake up from my bored gaze. Eureka! This is it! This is that bit of information I was missing, and I didn't know how to ask about it, or what it was that I was asking about. Reaction versus response.

Most horses will react in some way. Most horses react by running away. And this makes them look like they are easy to train. They are never perfect, but kind of close enough to good enough.

A response is when a horse actually understands the command. This is what most people are searching for.

Less Parelli, more riding

Today I still play some Parelli games with Gally, but not as many as yesterday. I actually do get bitten while saddling. Sigh. And there's a few more attempts at biting as I lead him down into the arena. In the arena I lounge him, Parelli style. On a 12 foot rope, bit of walk, bit of trot, an obstacle. It's all about changing the exercise and making him aware of my commands, rather than taking steam off him.

When I finish the lunging, I put the bridle on. This goes more smoothly than yesterday, and I am very pleased.

Then of course it's all marred as Gally tries to bite me when I mount up.

When I start riding, I throw the Parelli stuff away, and just ride normal dressage. After about 20 minutes, Gally stops, thinking he is finished. This is actually excellent. This is exactly what he does out on the trail, and now I have a chance to work through it slowly. Incidentally, I am riding without spurs or whip today.

I focus on the timing. He stops, and braces his neck. I wait. I flex him gently with the rein, then I ask him to yield - first with one leg, then with the other. Then he goes forward again.

It appears to be more about ignoring the fact that he stopped, and just asking him to go forward. It's about not venting your frustration at the wrongs, but just trying to get the rights.

For me as a rider, it becomes more about the mental challenge (of not losing my cool) than anything else.

More Parelli

Today I play some more Parelli games with Gally. This time I intend to ride him as well. I get him saddled (which is not a smooth process - more about that another time), and I pull out the bridle. He is standing tied to the hitching rail. I approach with the bridle, and the head goes up a bit and away from me. Obviously this makes it hard to put the bridle on.

I untie him, and move him a couple of steps away from the hitching rail. I shake the bridle around, then proceed to put it on. To my great surprise, Gally doesn't move his head away. He doesn't exactly open his mouth in anticipation, I still have to open his mouth with my finger, but the head doesn't move away. This is fantastic.

Then he tries to bite me when I mount up. Sigh.

Parelli

I have become so frustrated with my issues with Gally, that I have started re-reading Pat Parelli's book. Oddly enough, it seems to make a lot more sense these days, than it did 6 years ago.

I have also ordered two of his DVD's - Horseanality and Seven Games. The videos are quite inspiring, and I Parelli around with Gally. And it's kind of fun. I get Gally to jump the ditch, and that's definitely a lot of fun. Even Gally seems to enjoy it.

But at the end of it all I am still left wondering. Is he really listening? Am I too weak or too strong? Will our next riding session be better?

It feels to me like there is a really crucial piece of the horse training puzzle that I am missing. And I don't know what question to ask, and no one is providing the answer. It is very very frustrating to say the least.

Positive experience

I've been thinking about Gally and his stopping on Sunday. I think sometimes you need to look at what type of horse you are riding.

Gally, boss of the herd, popular with the girls. I mean, Bess stands at the fence batting her eyelids when he's at the hitching rail, and even Crownie comes into season for him. Not the agressive type though. Quiet achiever. Kind of wears his opponents down slowly in order to get to the top. I had a manager like that once.

So when we're on our first hike out together, and he sees a potentially dangerous situation (you have to keep in mind that he can hear and/or smell the wallabies, the deer hunters and their dogs in the bush), he says "Now, let's just stop right here and check that it's all safe". He takes the "protective" stance. Plays the father figure. Works within his level of comfort, and doesn't get too excited by the spur of the moment. Or by the spur for that matter.

It's a case of finding the best way to work with that type of character, and building trust through positive experiences.

Our Sunday experience was a positive one. We stayed together and didn't get eaten.

Limits

Yesterday's post about Gally stopping in the state forest may make some wonder just how much of a spurring and whipping the horse got. Did he get too much?

I use the following yard stick to make sure my horses are not abused.

I ride the horse, I unsaddle him, then I put him away in his paddock and go off to have a coffee. Afterwards, I come back out and indifferently walk past my horse's paddock. If the horse walks up towards me, then I worked with them at the right level. If the horse moves away, then I have overdone it.

So far I have never overdone it.

On Sunday, when I walked out after my coffee, Gally followed me enthusiastically along the fence line. Then enjoyed having his nose rubbed, without doing the usual playing with his lip. So he was actually better behaved. No, whatever I did on that trail was just fine by him. It showed him I was a good leader.

Little Miss Bossy

I ride Gally into the state forest. We take the first turn to our left, and half way down the hill he stops. Kick, kick, kick. Nah, not moving. Kick, smack, kick kick. Two steps forward. Kick kick smack. One step back. Sheesh. I sit in frustration, sweating, and heaving.

Eventually, I concede defeat, get off, and walk him down into the valley. I mount up and we ride on. Not for long though. Gally stops again, and after more kicking, smacking, sweating and heaving I am forced to get off. This scenario repeats itself a number of times.

But it's not all bad. I get a couple of trots and canters. The trots are rushed, but the canter is just magic. And when a wallaby jumps out in front of us, Gally barely blinks an eyelid. I also have a chance to experiment with my seat during Gally's absolute refusal to move. Lean a bit forward, lean a bit back. Let of go of the reins. Smack on the shoulders, behind the leg, on the backside. During all this he barely lifts a leg.

In summary, I would just say that where other horses would pigroot, rear or shy, Gally just becomes the passive aggresive.

Tempo

I go to Anna for a lesson. She starts off by lunging Gally with side reins. Walk, trot and canter.

Then I jump on, determined to become the boss. I use the whip in walk to trot transition, and get told off. Oh, you just can't win. Apparently I need to become boss by using my legs. Ok. We do some work in trot. One minute Gally is too slow, then he is too fast. The problem is that the tempo he chooses is not the right tempo. And "you haven't worked out what your tempo needs to be yet", says Anna. Well, she's spot on there.

As we prepare to go into canter, Anna says "don't worry at all about where his head is. Just ride." I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. We go into canter, and I sit back, feeling the tempo, and using seat voice and legs to keep it really active. It's great. I feel like a little kid again, belting around the arena without a care in the world.

I think Anna sees that it's actually working, and we do the same thing on the other rein. This time she asks me to gently ask him to stretch down with my inside hand. He plays with the bit, and comes slightly round. Finally, Anna has found an approach that works for both horse and rider.

I suddenly realise that this is probably the biggest challenge for a coach. A certain approach might work for a horse, but if the rider can't execute this approach, then you've got to find something else. To be fair, a coach must be given sufficient time to find an approach that works for both, and this may take several lessons, preferably in close succession.

At the end Anna hops on the horse herself. She rides brilliantly, and repeatedly shows me how he still bosses me around.

Testing the arena

The haying paddock has now been locked up, and I am forced to either ride out, or use the arena in the amphetheatre. I am a bit weary of the fact that it has no fence. Princess and Crownie have always had a slight issue with the open side. So I build a temporary fence around the open side. (Two sides have a high bank, where the arena has been cut into the hill.)

I saddle up Gally, and take him down there. He lunges well, and seems to accept the space, the view and the new fence. Then I ride him, and yes, he is still pulling faces at me. I really don't enjoy the "airs" stuff, so I try avoid using the whip. Gosh I am a big girly wuss. Surely there must be a better way.

I decide that he must learn to move off my legs. So, how about seeing how well he moves off one leg at a time. I do small circles in walk, getting him to move sideways off the inside leg, and yielding to the inside rein. Here, I start having some success. Ears forward, yielding to the rein, and moving off the leg. It's almost like I am speaking Gally's language, and now that he understands what I am asking he is happy to do it.

(I learnt the small circle trick from a western trainer when I had problems with Princess rearing. I ponder the idea of having a lesson on Gally with him.)

The next step is to make the circle larger, until eventually you are pretty much going straight. But we don't get that far in this session.

Pulling faces

Today we're off to Anna's again.

We're in walk and I am asking for more engagement, but it doesn't seem to be quite happening. I can see the ears are back. "He's pulling faces at you, and you're doing nothing", says Anna. "Come on, get on with it".

Later on we're in trot, it feels sluggish, and the ears are back. "He's pulling faces at you again", Anna calls out, almost amused. "What are you doing about it?"

I jab twice with the spurs, nothing. I apply the dressage whip behind my leg. Gally leaps into the air, all four legs off the ground, then trots on with more forward, ears pricked up.

"When he's not going forward, you need to get tougher", says Anna. "And yes, he will leap into the air. You just need to ride him through that. And next time you won't jab him in the mouth." I gulp. I really appreciate the advice and take it to heart. I just wish that I started learning with Anna when I was 20!

It's a horse!

I've been sick which means I've spent little time with my horses. When I have had time to spend with Gally, things haven't been going smoothly to say the least. I know what's going on. Gally is the boss of the paddock, so he has a dominant nature. So of course, he also gets dominant with me. You don't need to be a genius to work it out. I know I need to fix it, and soon. But how? How much do I smack him? How hard? How do I know when to stop? Do I always need to smack him?

For example. I put him out in the round yard and decided that I wouldn't smack him at all. Instead, every time he would do something I didn't approve of I would send him out and wait for him to submit. (This is based on Monty Roberts' training methods.) This worked a treat. Gally is really keen to work with people so he submits very quickly. But I can't use this method all the time and everywhere. It's one tool that works, but I need a whole suitcase of tools.

Smacking him on the backside stops him from kicking out. That's another tool I have. But what about when he puts his ears back when I put the saddle on? Or do the girth up? I need more tools. And so I arrive at Anna's loaded with questions.

Anna is superb. She has a good quick easy solution for most things I ask about. I open up my virtual suit case and start loading in the tools. It would take me weeks to describe them all here. But one thing is worth mentioning.

Anna has put Gally on the lounge with side reins on. She is encouraging him to step through and underneath. Gally is finding this a bit challenging, and at one point he just stops in protest. "Get on!" Anna calls out. He stands still. "Get on!" Anna repeats, and this time the whip flies. He trots on then settles down into an engaged walk. "He won't do that again." Anna speaks to me, while still fully focused on the horse. "You'll see, next time, he will respect the voice command. You have to just get on with it", she continues. "Ask for what you want and don't stop until you get it. And be quick about it. It's a horse. And he's a dominant horse." And if you give him time to think about things, he will find a way to dominate you.

Basically the message is this. If you want a horse to do something, keep demanding it until you get it. The minute you ease off, you teach the horse that whatever he did just before you eased off was the correct behaviour.

The second part is - you have to be quick. Horses are quick thinkers. Keep up!

The third part is - if it didn't work, then try something different. When Anna called out "Get on!" it didn't work. So she didn't follow it up with a louder, longer monologue. She followed it up with a flick of the whip. She tried something different. But, next time, she will still start with the voice. And eventually this will be enough.

Sold!

The couple arrive with two primary school aged daughters.

Princess hasn't been ridden since our TTT Horse Trials at the end of May, but she's still easy to catch. I saddle her up, and ride her in the haying paddock. Despite the long break, she feels awesome. Just awesome. Not a thing wrong with her, all forward, and responsive enough to the single rein. I walk trot and canter her, and all paces feel very good. Am I on the verge of keeping her? Yes. But a decision is a decision, and you've got to stick to it.

The prospective buyers like what they see, and the lady rides Princess in the round yard. She has a good walk and a good trot. She stops, all smiles. "She's lovely". I suggest she ride her some more, I would prefer she have another ride, but they seem satisfied.

Back at the hitching rail we discuss details of gear, price and feeding. Later in the day I drop Princess off to them. They live just 20 minutes down the road, in a lovely valley, state forest (all burnt) out the back. They have a pony, a shetland apparently, but he looks more like a minature fresian. Gorgous. He sees Princess, neighs out, his eyes glaze over with love and admiration, and he does a quick loop in the chook yard, adding in a couple of pig roots along the way. Princess is likewise suitably smitten. He might not be a tall guy, but he is all prince and royalty to her. I set her free in the paddock. She goes off to investigate the boundaries, head carried high. Every couple of minutes she comes back to her knight and nuzzles his nose. I gulp.

On the way home, the empty float seems to rattle more than usual. We stop at Piglets for a babycino and a cappucino.

Gally is the boss

Mo has been the boss of the paddock for years. Over 10 years. Whereever we went, Mo would always be the boss.

When I first put Gally in with Mo, Mo was nice to Gally, but quickly put Gally in his place when push came to shove.

Today, I feed the horses in the yard. The feed bins are ready, and the horses run in through the gate. I turn around just in time to see Mo and Gally standing over the same feed bin. Then Gally raises his head, and puts his ears back. Mo retreats to find another bucket. Gally is the boss.

The yard has a stable in it. Later on when I return to put the horses out, Gally is standing in the stable, looking out. He is proud as pie. All the other horses are in the yard eating grass. He doesn't even put his ears back when I come over to give him a pat and have a laugh. I think he has now made our farm his home.

Don't kick

Gally is a smart horse. And any smart horse tries to be the boss of the herd. That includes me. So Gally is trying some neat little tricks, like sniffing my back while I am brushing him. This can quickly turn into fumbling with the lips, then gentle nipping, then biting. I shrug (literally) off his advances.

The other thing he tries is cow kicking when I am doing anything around his back side. It can be brushing, or putting the saddle on, or doing up his rugs. I have already seen how the saddle fitting lady gave him a firm pat on the back side for each kick, and how easily and quickly it worked. My husband suggested that I try using a short crop on him, as it will extend my reach, and keep me at a safer distance.

So, here I am, brushing Gally, brush in one hand, crop in the other. Every time the leg lifts, snap. It's not a brutal whack, far from it, just a firm snap. The crop is lifted a mere 10-15cm off his backside. Then I notice that just before he tries to kick, he swishes his tail. So, everytime the tail swings, I give him a quick snap. Within seconds I have a very obedient horse standing at the hitching rail.

Sick day

I already had a sore throat last night. I got to bed early, but even so I wake up feeling really sick this morning. It's not often that I take a sick day from riding, but today is going to be one. It's a windy, miserable day, and I can barely breathe and swallow. Forget it.

I don't even venture outside.

My husband puts out the hay for the horses, and checks on that horse with a new white rug. He returns saying that they are all waiting for a feed. Apart from that they all look happy.

Gally goes to Anna's

I take Gally to Anna's (my coach) for a lesson.

I explain to her my saddle woes, and the success of the saddle fitting. Then we get on with the job of training Gally.

First she gets me to walk around on a loose rein, controlling with the legs, and only using the reins when absolutely necessary. Once he is comfortable with the arena, I pick up the reins.

"Do you think you can go into trot?", she asks sternly. "Ummm, no", I respond. "Well, then wake him up. Apply more leg, get him going. And when he is ready trot on." I do, and we're in trot. "When you want to go into trot, lean back a bit", comments Anna. The fear of hurting his back is still with me, obviously.

In trot we do circles, go large, change rein, more circles. Then we go into canter, go large, no circles. "Just focus on getting him to go forward", Anna is almost yelling at me. "He is a young horse, he just needs to learn that when you apply the leg it means go forwards. Keep him balanced around the corners, round off the short side, and just keep applying the leg." Gally is cruising around the arena in fine style. It feels powerful.

We go back into trot. "Have you ever seen jockeys ride?" asks Anna. Have I ever. I nod. "Have you seen how they use the whip? On the shoulder, hind quarters, shoulder?". I nod. "Well use it like that!", she says. "Give him a kick with the leg, then another, if he doesn't go forward enough, then use the whip like a jockey." I do, and Gally responds with a strong, forward trot. Beautiful. "Then just sit there, no effort, no leg, nothing", says Anna soothingly. "Get him to travel exactly like you want him to." Wow, it's so easy. Bit like what my girlfriend said once.

Saddle fitting

It's an awful day. Wind blowing at 200km an hour (according to my mum). Rain and hail pelting down in long showers. But I have waited two weeks for the saddle fitter to come out, and I am not about to cancel.

Instead, I drive the trailer out of the shed, move some barrels, and setup some hay nets with hay. The stage is ready for fitting Gally with a saddle.

The lady from Horseland arrives, car loaded with saddles. We bring in Crownie, for companionship, and Gally for fitting. He gazes angrily at the saddle, which caused him discomfort, and gives us his opinion with his back leg. Liddy gives him a knowledgeable firm pat on the backside for every cow kick he does. He calms down.

Liddy measures him up, and yes I do need a wider gullet. The gullet is changed, the saddle goes on, the girth is done up. (Note, no saddle blanket.) Liddy is happy with the way the fit "looks", but she thoroughly examines how the saddle lies along his back. Then she finds a couple of sore spots along the back, just where the saddle finishes. She takes a step back and assess him. "I think you need a bit more padding here", she points to the back part of the saddle. "He has a high back, and I think the saddle finishes too sharply for him. I think it needs to be more rounded, and taper up more gently." She takes the saddle off, and busies herself with adding padding.

The penny drops. This saddle wasn't just hurting Gally. It was also hurting Princess. Possibly Crownie as well. It's just that Princess complains about everything, so you just learn to ignore her. Whereas, Crownie doesn't complain about anything, so you never know. But Gally was able to articulate it quite clearly, for a horse.

With added padding, the saddle goes back on. Liddy is happy with the fit, "I want you to sit on him". Bridle on the horse, helmet on me, I mount up. Gally tenses, as he anticipates an uncomfortable moment. I sit in the saddle. Sigh of relief ... first from Gally, then from me. And, in addition, the saddle now feels a lot more like a dressage saddle.

The saddle fitter is pleased. "Go for a walk on him", she encourages. Despite the howling wind, the bending trees, and flapping bits and pieces we ride out in front of the shed. Gally steps under with increadible freedom. This feels fantastic! What a difference!

When I jump off, I am ready to give Liddy a hug. As we discuss how much I owe, I decide that this is the best money I have ever spent.

From now on, I will be much more thorough in checking my horse's back for sore spots, and it wouldn't surprise me if the saddle fitter will be visiting us on average once per year.

Gally - more photos

Here are some more photos of Gally. Here he is, standing quietly at the hitching rail.

Gally sporting his new winter combo rug.

Gally - photos

Finally, some photos of Gally. These shots were taken shortly after his arrival at our property. Now this is what I call "exercising in the paddock". Go Gally, go!

I'll be sure to remember the height of this pigroot, if we ever have a disagreement.

I feel better

Ok, I feel better now. And I'm still going to pursue my dream of flawlessly galloping across country over scary obstacles.

Yesterday, I really was ready to give up. But, I know it's useless. I've been there before. Trying to give up the horse dream. And it just doesn't work. I mean ... if I'm not going to ride, then I may as well not live. So back into it. As someone once said "There's no failure, only feedback." Gally's sore back was my feedback. I know that I'm not sitting right. There are saddles that force you to sit correctly. Gally's previous owners' saddle made you do that. In fact, I liked their saddle so much I almost bought the saddle, not the horse.

So if I am not dilligent enough to sit correctly in my current saddle, then I should get myself a saddle which forces me to sit correctly. Or ride bareback. I have always found that I rode much better bareback, or without stirrups. I've had coaches who would force me to jump without stirrups for that exact reason.

The core of the problem

I haven't resolved the problem, but I keep working my horse.

I know that I don't have the most stable hands, so I glue them to the saddle blanket, and let Gally wander around the round yard. I ask for trot, the ears go back. Obviously, hands are not the problem.

Since he seems comfortable enough in the walk, I take him on a tour of the haying paddock. He tries really hard as we walk up the hill, and stays totally calm as we take in the awesome view from the top gate.

When we are finished I unsaddle him at the hitching rail as normal. And just out of curiosity, I run my hand along his back on the left side. All good. I do same on the right. Ouch! The ears dart back, the back dips. There's my problem.

I think about how the horse felt before I bought him. There could have been a mild stiffness there, but he wasn't sore. Not like this. This is a problem I created. Great!

I write myself off as a hopeless rider and trainer. I don't know why I'm still bothering. All my dreams fall in a heap at my feet. I am ready to give up and throw in the towel. But wait. Wait. If I am sitting wrong, then that saddle is "allowing" me to sit wrong. And maybe that saddle doesn't fit as well as I initially thought? But if I was a really good rider, I could ride well in any saddle. So, I am just hopeless at this, and should give up now before I do more damage.

Ears back

Gally is going well, but when I ask for trot, his ears go back. In the trot, as I ask for more effort, his ears also go back. He even puts in a tiny little pig root. It's easy to sit to.

I keep working him, wondering what to do. Everything I have ever been taught tells me to just crack the whip and push the horse through this. But intuition tells me that this is a nice horse who is just trying to tell me something.

I spend the rest of the day in internal turmoil, wandering how to deal with this, who to ask for help, and how to ask them.

Ideally, I should just put him on the float and go to Anna's. But due to family commitments I cannot go to her for another two weeks. It's just me and the problem.

Baby steps

This morning I finally have time to ride my new horse. The first step is to fit his gear. The saddle is easy. It goes on, it fits, done. The bridle is more tricky. I pull out Tosca's bridle, which is a good start, then go looking for a noseband. In the process I end up with about 3 bridles sprawled across the floor, reminiscing about a ride on this horse or that. Finally we're saddled and ready to go.

I take Gally into the round yard, just as the sun is blinding us, and the spotted dairy cows walk into Bob's top paddock. Great! Of all the days, why do they need to go into that paddock today?! I am sure that Gally has seen a cow before, but spotted cows against the bright sun rays, I mean who knows ... it could be the big bad wolf in disguise. Gally is ready to flee. This is so not the horse I bought.

I jump on, soothe him with lots of snorts, and walk him around in small circles. He calms down and gets on with his work. I just focus on quality walk and trot. Straightenss, rythm, that sort of thing. Half way through he has another big bad wolf bout. A minute later he is settled. After 45 minutes I feel he is ready to go out for a walk in the haying paddock. But I stay in the round yard and opt for a canter instead. Gally has the most sensational canter.

Overall, I am really happy with him. I don't mind if gets frightened by something new. He is a horse after all. But he settled down really quickly and he actually focussed on his work. Princess took months to feel that settled at the farm. Crownie felt more settled, but she took longer to focus on the work.

New horse

Beware the horse rider who writes regular blog entries and suddently falls silent. They have either fallen off their steed, or they have gone out and bought a new horse.

In my case, it is the latter.

The process has been lengthy, but I didn't want to write anything in case I jinx myself.

I got chatting to a friend that I was looking for a new horse. She got chatting to a horsey workmate, who said that she has a horse for sale that may suit. I then asked a 1000 questions over email, and decided the horse was worth seeing. With husband and daughter in tow, we drove across town to see said horse. I rode him, and liked him.

However, I needed a second opinion. So the following weekend, I dragged my coach across town. First the owner rode the horse, then I rode the horse, then my coach gave me a mini lesson, then finally my coach rode the horse. With the owners out of earshot, my coach declared "Well, he probably won't make the Olympics, but if you like him, you can buy him." This is a pretty big statement from my coach.

So I bought him.

And today, I set off across town in the wee hours of the morning (it was really dark) to pick him up. The trip went smoothly. When I got to the farm I put him in the Red Rum paddock. The other horses came over. He saw Princess, she saw him, it was love at first sight. I put Crownie in the paddock with him, but when he's not grazing he stands at the fence and rubs noses with Princess.

And what exactly did I buy?

He is a 15.1hh bay thoroughbred, 5 years old, purpose bred for eventing. His dam was a 2* eventer, his sire was a dressage horse. He has already done a couple of events at level 4, and he is training at level 2. And his birthday is on the same day as my daughter's (but he is a year older).

His name is "Gallium" (yes, the 31st element of the periodic table). "Gally" for short. (His previous owners had a chemistry background. So I guess "Gallium" is the chemistry equivalent of "Basic", "Fortran" or "Java".)

Good news

So, the physically intelligent, strong people have an advantage when learning horse riding, I'll just give up now and take up fishing instead.

Whoa!

It does take a bit of time to learn how to use the muscles in your lower body. It does take a bit of time to get the strength. (Here I very strongly advocate Pilates.) But, if you can put the time into learning and strengthening your muscles, then I believe you can pull up ahead of the physically intelligent person.

The physically intelligent person applies the "feel". Whereas the less physically intelligent person applies the "science". Usually, once we understand the science, we stop doing things by feel. Why? Because science is more accurate. Science gives us better results.

It's not all about strength

I've been harping on about how much strength is required for ages now. Finally, some good news. It's not all strength. While I was riding in my "permanent" half halt I did have to use lots of strength. But the drive requires a lot less strength, and is a lot more about technique.

(Keep in mind that over the last year I have built up strength. Some strength is necessary.)

The half halt

The half halt is almost like a legend to horse riders. All coaches swear by it, and request it, while all riders wonder whether it really exists. The aim of the half halt is to slow the horse down instantaneously. It can be followed by a change of gait, or simply to get the horse's attention.

Last weekend's jumping got me thinking. Why wasn't my horse jumping initially? Why was she almost running out and refusing? Well, to cut the long story short, I was riding in a permanent half halt. I feel very sheepish saying this, but all my coaches should feel more sheepish for not picking this up. Or, for not being able to explain it to me. Whichever. I've been thinking about this all week, and today, as we ride out into the forest, I open my body up and ride at the walk in the same manner that I "drive" the horse in canter towards a jump.

By "open my body up" I literally mean feeling like your legs are rotating outwards at the hip, like your knees are rotated outwards, and like you are really sitting on your two seat bones. You heel forms a "claw" like movement together with your buttock. In this position you automatically sit up. If you close up this position, you get the half halt. When you open up again, you get the drive.

Of course I have to verify all this with my coach, Anna. But, as Crownie warms up, I ask for more and more engagement. The head comes up, and I actually feel the legs stepping under. It feels great. And she's not rushing forward. She has the lightest contact on the reins. Can't be too far from "correct".

Panic time

My intention was to compete at Grade 4 on Crownie in Peninsula Horse Trials on Sunday 2nd August.

Well, the horse is barely jumping Grade 5, she's never even seen a cross country course, we're not graded and the competition is a mere 5 weeks away. That's 4 weekends of training. It's panic time.

As I see it here are my options:

• Forget the Horse Trials and do an XC clinic instead. Get her graded later.
• Get her graded, and still do the Horse Trials but at Grade 5.
• Forget the whole horse thing, and go fishing.

I am tending to lean towards the middle option. That way, I still get the satisfaction of competing. A Grade 5 course will be easy enough that it will be a confidence boost for the horse. And I get to see yet another course. There is still the problem of getting graded in time, before entries close.

Horses for courses

So apparently I am intending to do Penninsula Horse Trials with Crownie. Why Crownie, and not Princess?

Good question.

Because of the challenge. Crownie and Princess are two very different horses. And a good trainer can train all types of horses. So, lets not stuff around. By taking on the challenge of trainnig Crownie, I am proving to myself that it's my methods that work, and not the horse's talent.

Because the horse needs a rest. Truth be told, on our last three outings (including the event) Princess did not want to get on the float. Physically she was fine, but mentally she wasn't coping. Now, she's had four weeks of holidays, but this may not be enough. She may need two or three outings before being taken to another event. And there just isn't enough time to do that.

Because I am sick of the racing game. Let's face it. Holding Princess under control in open countryside is REALLY HARD WORK! And I am sick of it. And I need a rest. Phew! Glad I got that out of my system. And what if competing on Crownie is much much easier? And she enjoys it more? And I get a better placing simply because the horse is coping mentally? Isn't it worth a try?

If Crownie ends up not coping mentally, then I'll know there's a problem with my method. And I won't blame the horse. Because at the moment, when I read the judges comment on my dressage test "Rider should relax more", I feel like soothingly saying to the judge "You get on and show me how!!!".

The drive

I am training Crownie over jumps. Cross rails actually. And it's not going well. Approaching each jump I aim straight for the middle, with my legs around the horse, as opposed to on the horse. And the horse is looking to run out.

I know that Crownie is a brave horse, so why is she looking to run out?

I put my legs on, sit stronger, straighter and further back in the saddle, and come around again. No hesitation, no running out. Pop.

The penny drops. If you just amble towards the jump, the horse is not engaged enough, and they will have trouble jumping. And so they will not want to jump. If you are strong in your seat and leg, but in a "half-halt" position, then your horse will also have trouble jumping. But if you're using a driving seat, and truly engaging the hindquarters then you will get a nice forward jump.

If the horse is looking at the jump and feeling worried about it, you will need a stronger driving seat, to generate more energy, to conquer the fear and get a jump.

Life's lessons

I always thought that being a horse trainer would make me a better mother.

Yet, it is being a mother, that is making me into a better horse trainer.

Fitness work

After yesterday's intesive session with Anna, I expect Crownie to be reluctant to do any work. Yet she comes to me and puts her own nose in the halter.

We go for some fitness work in the state forest. Doing the same loop that we did last week, just in reverse.

This allows us to do a really long canter. At least 2km. Maybe more.

Crownie powers along in the canter, enjoying the fast pace and the freedom to run. I build on yesterday's lesson. A couple of times I have to come back to the trot for a short rest. Strength - need to keep working on it. But I feel a lot more stable in the saddle. I imagine jumping over cross country jumps at this pace, and my legs tighten around the horse even more.

Engaging the hindquarters

I bring Crownie for a lesson with Anna. Anna studies the horse intently as I saddle up. Finally she hands me a pair of scissors "Here, if you're going to make her that pretty, then you may as well trim her tail. If it's too long it actually does get in the way."

Crownie works well in walk and trot. Anna gets me to do these tiny circles on her, for ever engaging the hind quarters more and more.

Then in the canter it all falls apart. On the left canter she just falls out and the circles become huge oblongs. I work really hard at trying to contain it all. In the end both the horse and I come back to walk in a puffing mess.

On the right canter she's stiff. She can hold the circle, but it's a battle to keep her going, and there's no softness. Once she comes back to trot, I can't seem to get another canter.

"You're still trying to get the horse collected from your hand, not from your leg", says Anna with impatience. "You need to be like the horse. You need to use your legs to engage the horse's legs."

Spot on. Plus physical intelligence and strength.

I think about the way I push a wheelbarrow, the way I carry a backpack while hiking, and the way I run down a steep hill with my daughter. A year ago I used to do these tasks relying purely on the strength of my shoulders. (Correction. A year ago I didn't run down the hill.) The bones provided the supportive structure, like one wooden block piled on top of another. But the muscles did relatively little. They stopped the structure from falling apart. That's all.

Now, thanks to a year of training with Anna, and three months of pilates (once per week) the muscles do a lot more. When I push the wheelbarrow I actually feel the strength coming from my torso. From my legs. I can actually run down the hill with my daughter. It's a great feeling to be able to run down the hill, feeling every muscle in your leg providing support, while your joints bend and flex without pressure.

But. It's not enough. Not yet. It's a long road. Enjoy the journey.

Training for fitness

There are two types of fitness that one must work on with the horse - the aerobic fitness, and fitness of joints and ligaments. Aerobic fitness is developed by cantering and galloping. Fitness of joints and ligaments develops through lots and lots of walking. Virginia Leng (an eventing guru, and my hero) used to walk her horses for three weeks, every single day, before doing any other training.

I take Crownie into the state forest where we walk down to the valley. Then we do a fast canter up the road - about 1km. Then we walk down into another valley, and do another canter up the other side - about 700m. Then a very very long walk - around 4km I think. Then I let her gallop. Walk over the rocks, then gallop again up to dead cow. We mainly walk the rest of the way home.

The aim of the exercise is to work primarily on the ligament fitness, but to also start making some headway into aerobic fitness. So all the fast work is done uphill on nice smooth tracks.

Introduction to Showjumping

I have done some showjumping with Crownie in the winter of 2007. In fact we did a quite tight indoor freshmans course at grade 4 level. She was totally calm and went clear. So I know she can jump. It's just a question of getting her fit enough again.

Oddly enough, it is precisely today that I stumble across an article (based on a lesson taught by Will) which talks about how a horse's balance must develop, first over trot poles, then over increasingly bigger jumps. I had never thought about this before, but it makes absolute sense.

We all know that a horse must develop balance in walk, trot and canter when carrying a rider. Jumping is no different. So when you're going over trot poles your horse must retain rhythm and straightness. If they rush before, during or after the trot poles, the they are not really ready to go onto jumping.

I apply this principle when schooling Crownie. We go over the trot poles, and I look for balance. Once I am happy that she can maintain her rhythm, we progress onto cross rails. These are so low that she chooses to trot over them. This is fine. I find that she hesitates just before the cross rail. It's only half a microsecond, and it's basically a balancing problem. So we continue the exercise until it gets smoother, then call it a day.

Canter right; head left

I mount up on Crownie, and preparations for my second one day event are under way.

The amazing thing about this horse is her trainability. She's not very fit, and not necessarily willing to listen to me right now, but within minutes of starting a new exercise she is listening and doing what I ask. And all the training principles apply. It's such a relief!

For example. We're trotting on a 25 metre circle (Crownie is a long horse, and initially needs a bit more space.) I ask her to do a volte. The whole idea of the volte is for her to become more collected. Her first reaction is to rush forwards. But I limit that through the use of my reins and legs. Then she collects. Then we're at the end of the volte, and I allow her to go back on the large circle again. So, when she does the right thing, I release as if to say "that's all I wanted. Good girl".

So then of course, the next volte goes better, because she knowns that last time she collected herself a bit she was rewarded. Awesome.

Later to get more collection I do two or three voltes in a row. So I ask for a bit more. Then I release. It works beautifully.

We go into canter. Canter right to be precise. Something weird starts happening here. She's on the right lead. But she's heading left. Head is bent to the right, but she's definitely following her shoulder to the left, neighing madly to her mates as she goes. Argh! This is not how it's supposed to be. How in the world am I going to do cross country?

Well, in horse riding, the horse is actually our greatest teacher. I listen. The neighing sounds a bit like laughing. "What are you laughing at Crownie?". What's supposed to stop her heading left? Well, my left leg of course! I come back to walk and retrain my left leg until it's stiff, sore and exhausted.

Wandin - Photos

The photos from the event are up on the Morrie Matthews web page. I am as excited as a four year old at Christmas!

Wandin - the Post Mortem

Those horse trials were so much easier than I had ever imagined. It's the first thing that strikes me about the event.

I was really worried about the cross country. In training we had some refusals, a horse that was very difficult to control, and a fall. Yet, when it came to competition day, the adrenaline kicked in, the horse new her job and we just flew around and had a really good time.

And that's the second thing that strikes me. I had a really good time. Previous competitions (showjumping, showing, dressage, combined training) I had been to have been somewhat of a chore sometimes. But here I can honestly say I had a lovely time. Perhaps the support of my girlfriend and my dad contributed. But the eventing crowd really was very friendly and accepting as well. It really felt like a bit of a hoot on the weekend. Something to do when you're not working.

The last thing I notice is that I have lost my immediate urge to become a horse riding coach. I don't want to spend time teaching other people how to have this much fun. I just want to get out there and do this again, and again, and again!

(The longer term plan to become a riding coach is still there. Of course. But before this event I was on the verge of enrolling in a coaching course. Well that plan has definitely been put on the back burner for now.)

So, where are all the eventers heading to next?

Wandin - the Results

Greedily I download the results from the official TTT web page. I find my section. This is how it looks for Princess and I, as the dust settles over the jumps.

We were in a group of 32 riders. One never started. After the dressage, with a total of 53.60, we were 31st. Last.

In the cross country we went clear, but added 46.4 time penalties to our score.

And in the show jumping, we had a single rail down, costing us 5 points, and clear on time.

A total of 105.00. Placing 16th, out of 23 riders who managed to stay in the competition.

Can't complain. I think we proved a point, and left room for improvement.

Wandin - Day 2

It's almost 7am and foggy. Very foggy. I get ready and have breakfast and start saddling up my horse. We're the first cross country combination to present for gear check. That's because all the other people own sane horses.

It's still really foggy, and I'm careful not to wander too far away from the showjumpers. Safety in numbers. And the visibility factor. If I wander too far away no one will see me if I fall off.

Princess is uptight. Better than in the dressage, but not as calm as before the showjumping. I try various ways to settle her, but in the end I realise. She knows she's here to do cross country. And she is ready to give me 110%. She will do every single jump. I just have to set her up.

"Five, four, three, two, ONE! Go! Good Luck", calls the starter as I trot out of the gates. I can barely make out the first jump in the fog. Oh, there it is. Good old Thomas the tank engine. Princess tugs. I let her go and we are clear over the first.

Picket fence. I slow her down the hill. She glances, then jumps. I gaze into the fog. Fence three, where are you?

The little brush fence. Piece of cake.

The ditch. Coming into it, I'm telling Princess "it's the ditch, you're scared of ditches, slow down". "I'm good. I know this ditch. I'll cruise over it", she answers. She's right.

Another rider passes. Amazingly I stay in control.

The back of the tractor. Coming towards this jump I feel Princess' eyes shifting from one jump to another not sure what's next. Finally, I focus on it. "Just let me go", she screams at me. I am scared. She leaps over it.

The big brush. I'm scared again, but I let her go. She flies.

The chute. "I want you to do the chute", I say to her. "That thing? No way", she says 6 strides out. "Yes way". "Ok" and she jumps it.

The dog. Cruising.

The seat. "Watch out", I say. "I see it", she responds. Clear.

The cavalletti. "Ok, we're going to angle this one", she nods. Easy peasy.

The eyes. "Just think it's a showjump and aim for the middle". Done.

The water. "Now slow down, just trot". She hesitates for a microsecond, then she trots through the water. The crowd cheers.

The drop. "Ok, ok, just walk". The crowd is trying to help with their soothing words. She slinks down the bank, then pops over the log, then takes off. "Whoa!"

The zig zag. Done. And to my most great surprise she doesn't take off for the float. I turn her around.

The photo jump. Excellent. And now I let her fly through the finish flags.

My eyes well up with tears as I jump off. My horse. My little horse. You did it. Not just did it, but did it like a pro. You little beauty. I give her a little hug and many many pats.

In the vetting enclosure it's a real battle to slow her down to a walk. The vet comes over and checks her heartbeat. Too fast. 5 minutes. He comes over again. Still too fast. The sequence repeats itself two or three times. Finally, "She's right on the limit", he says. "I can see that she's fit enough, but she just seems to be very excited. If you went to Werribee you may have problems with the vet check. I recommend you give her more exposure to this." I gaze at him, then whisper. "She's 18". He shakes his head and walks off.

I settle my horse in her yard and return to watch some more cross country. And I feel even more proud of my little horse.

The competition is far from finished, but I must start heading home. There are other responsibilities to attend to. Like dinner with the in-laws.

When we get home, I put Princess in the haying paddock with Crownie. She goes for a good roll, then puts her down to eat the grass. Crownie gazes at her "you look like you haven't seen any grass for a week", she seems to say. Then she nods knowingly at me. I get their food ready.

The sun ebbs towards the horizon, and the mares have finished their food, when I walk in with a rug for Princess. I expect her to be impossible to catch, but instead she trots over and stands still as I fasten the buckles. We understand each other. The job is done. Time for a holiday.

Wandin - Day 1

It's 6:10am in the morning, pitch black, all good, except that the horse won't get on the float. Finally she relents. As we drive through the farm gate I remember that my membership card is neither signed nor stamped.

We arrive at Wandin. It's already a bustling living equine town. Tents, floats, trucks, yards, and of course horses. I find our allocated yard, put Princess in it and go to the events office. I take out my cards, careful to hold the membership card well out of view. I smile at the lady over the counter, and hand over my horse trials and dressage cards. "And your membership card", she gazes at me over her spectacles. I hand it over, straight away owning up that it's not signed. "I'm sorry, but you can't compete". "No, you don't understand. I'm a working mum. Work, child, running the house, running the farm, training a horse. It's an honest mistake", my brain screams at her. But on the surface I smile as kindly as I can and explain "Look, I am a paid up member, my club president signed off my entry form, we must be able to do something." She nearly kills me with her gaze, but in the end senior personnel gets involved, phone calls are made to my club president, and club secretary. The club secretary says she's on her way with the stamp. "You must have your membership card stamped and signed, both, by 4pm today, or you will be disqualified", says the spectacled lady as she hands me my number. Phew. I race back to my horse.

Now, what time is it? I was supposed to start my warm up half an hour ago. Great. Wide open spaces, sweeping views, and only 20 minutes to warm up Princess. They must be joking. I'll be lucky if that horse goes into the arena at all.

I pass the gear check, only because the gear check lady is scared that Princess might stand on her. Then I do circles. Lots of them. Little ones, medium ones. Careful to put pressure on one rein at a time. Just try and keep her head down, try and relax her. As I'm about to start my dressage test, I murmur something about the market to the next competitor.

The dressage test goes well. We follow it pretty much to the letter, and the first canter is actually really good. I don't care what the judge will say.

The minute we're out of the arena, Princess starts freaking out again, and she trit trots sideways all the way back to her yard, ambulance ambling along behind.

Back at the yard I unsaddle. My girlfriend joins me with her two year old daughter and we forget the mad horse while we go and get a coffee.

We walk the showjumping course. It's brilliant. Ten jumps. It sort of spirals to the right for the first half, then takes a sudden turn left, and spirals that way before finishing off with an S. But there's nothing hard about the distances. So it will be rider errors that will bring people to grief. Not horse errors. Brilliant, I say.

My dad catches up with us, and it's time to saddle up. In the showjumping warm up, Princess starts having flashes of calmness. Now there's a new concept. The jumps help to focus her attention, and she becomes calmer on her approach. A few more jumps, and she's calmer on departure as well. We're ready.

I trot into the showjumping ring, and present myself to the judges. The bell rings. We set off. I'm working overtime to ensure she jumps the first jump. As a result we have a rail down at jump two. Then I realise. This horse is going to jump everything for me. All I need to do is set her up. I do my job. Princess does hers. The rest of the course is clear. Cheers all around.

What a relief. Back at the float we get quite jovial. But can't rest on our laurels. Time to walk the cross country course. Grade 3 have just set off across country, and we "ooh" and "aah" between jumps.

The cross country course is resonably inviting to start off with. But in the middle it puts up a few challenges. The back of the little pretend tractor is very square and solid. The brush fence is high. The chute is also square and solid. The dog is narrow. The seat looks intimidating. The combination should be jumped at an angle. Then there are the eyes. The water is an easy drop, but should be approached slowly. The drop and the log demand respect. The zig zag is on the way home, yet afterwards one must double back and jump the narrow photo fence.

All sorts of things go through my mind, but above all "I should be doing this course on Crownie!".

The phone rings. It's the club secretary. I run to my car. The card gets signed and stamped, both. Then it's off to the events office. The spectacled lady looks kindly at me and smiles, as she inspects the green card, oozing with fresh ink. She crosses my name off the black list. (The list is not short).

The sun starts setting, my friend and father leave for the day. Princess is not eating or drinking, her fur is matted with dried sweat. Her sides are sunken in. I jump into her yard and give her a pat. On the other side of the driveway I spot a little patch of grass. We walk over and after a good look around Princess puts her head down to eat the green juicy stuff. Later, back in the yard, she eats her dinner, and I brush all the sweat out of her coat.

The rest of the day is spent putting things in the float, and getting the car ready to sleep in. Then shower, and off to dinner. The eventing crowd is a friendly bunch, and I feel very welcome when I sit down next to some people. Turns out, they are almost my next door neighbours!

Finally, I bed down in the car for the night. I gaze at the stars through the back window, and go over the cross country course again, and again, and again.

The night before Wandin

I groom Princess till she's shining bright. I trim her mane till she looks like a seasoned eventer. I wash her tail till it's silky smooth. I put the horses in the Red Rum paddock and give them a feed.

I pack the car, ticking every little item off my list. Sabina and I have a disagreement about the blue lunging whip. She's convinced she needs to go fishing with it tomorrow.

I set 2 different alarm clocks. Just in case. And I apply my meditation lessons and calm myself down. It works. Amazingly well.

Tomorrow starts the end of the first step in the journey.

Making it work cross country

So now that it's all working in the jumping arena, lets put it to the test in the cross country paddock.

I ride out into our huge amphitheatre paddock. I am still on top of the main ridge when Princess does one of her silly little rears. I scowl. "Right, no more barley for you" I think to myself, and push her on. She's edgy all the way down the ridge. I could swear that she's better than this in the state forest.

Due to her jumpiness I head straight for the new arena, and work her in there. I do a lot of trotting, getting her flexing forever deeper. She calms down, and we canter. They are quite good canters. Not too long. I would rather have a short, high quality canter, than something that disintegrates into a mad dash.

I am happy with her work, but I forgo the logs for today. It's a bit wussy, I know. Instead we wander down to the dam. A friend left her bag on the bank yesterday and I retreive it. Princess is surprisingly cooperative when I dismount to pick up the bag.

One step forward

I have spent all week sweating over it. The jumping. All week I have sat there pulling apart my position and they way the horse jumps, and then putting it back together again. Of course, I've only done it in my mind. Today we get to practice.

I reset the jumps so that I have a couple of nice cross rails and one vertical, and many related lines in between. The cross rails are so small that I know the horse can just walk over them. In fact I know that the horse could pretty much walk over the vertical too. Then I start putting it all back together.

First, my position must be correct, I must be looking up and sitting up. Second, the horse has to be in control and travelling slowly. Period. That's all there is to it.

I go over the first cross rail, looking up. The penny drops. The rider never gets to see the jump. They have to feel it. There is no other way. The rider gets to see the jump two strides out. From there on they ride. They jump comes. The rider must perfectly stay with the motion of the horse. Then the horse's effort in the jump forces the rider to fold. It's bizzarre, it's amazing, it's like riding blind.

I keep trying this concept over the other jumps, time and time again. I try related lines. Once, just once, Princess goes too fast from one jump to the next. And it all feels like it's falling apart again. I take control, I reprimand, the next related line is much slower.

I took it apart, and put it all back together again, and it worked.

Two steps back

I wasn't happy with my or Princess' jumping during our recent cross country lesson. So, today is the time to practice.

I do a normal dressage warmup, then eye the jumps. I've lost my confidence. I go over the cross rail a couple of times. It doesn't feel right. It feels like something has fallen apart, and needs to be put back together again. But what?

I think the horse is jumping more or less the same as ever. But to me the whole exercise seems all over the place. The approach is rushed, the jump is flat, the landing is hard, and the travel lacks bounce.

I focus on my position and do the barrells. Awful. I am trying to sit up and look up more than ever, and I just seem to catch myself looking down on landing all the time!

I quit while I'm ahead.

Gaining control

When Princess is in the arena, I have little trouble keeping her in control. So we need to venture out, in order to challenge ourselves. We head for the state forest.

Out here, she challenges me frequently, and I need to be strong in my seat and position to retain control. We head down into the valley, then canter up Stanley Vale road. Then walk down Mason track. As we head in the direction of home, Princess definitely wants to increase the pace. I resist. She shakes her head. I give her a longer rein, but the second she speeds up I shorten it again. Then loosen it. We play like this for a while. Truth be told, I'm a bit over this game.

Cross country lesson

Will arrives, and I follow him into the massive paddock that is "Little Wandin". We circle Thomas the tank engine for warm up. Thomas doesn't blow a puff, but Princess regards him with considerable suspicion. "All right", calls out Will. Nothing quiet about this guy when he's teaching. "Sit up! Look up! Sit UP!!!". We go over the logs that are Thomas's carriages: grade 5, grade 4, grade 3. "I want you to look up more. You tend to look down on landing and it crushes you. Look up!"

We go onto a little picket fence, garden bed in front of it, going downhill. Wow, all levels of difficulty built into the single jump. The jumping space is actually flat, but the approach is down hill. Princess stops, and I turn her immediately away. "Wait!" calls out Will. "If they refuse, let them just sit there. This is so small she can walk over it." "Sorry Will", I circle up the hill then come at it again. Princess stops, jumps, and I land a bit funny on her back. "Look up!" I could have predicted it. Subsequent tries go smoothly.

We do a bank up. Then a bank down. "Just walk to it", calls Will. "And lean back". The horse slinks gently down the bank. Wow! Feels good. "Ok, now do that again, then onto the log." I shake in my boots, but it's actually a lot easier than I expected. Doing it from walk is definitely a good idea. No need for any faster. Cool stuff.

Then onto the ditch. Grade 5, grade 4, grade 3. The grade 3 ditch is followed by a solid double bar jump. Princess is so focussed on the ditch, she gets a huge surprise when she sees the double bar. I am determined that she won't stop. The front legs go over. For a second or two we're suspended, the horse's belly sitting on the fence. The hind legs go over. "Go again. Look up!". I keep my legs on. Ditch. Two strides. Jump. Huge. I get unseated and land on the neck. I can't manage to grab on anything useful and end up on the ground. Damn. There goes a bottle of champagne. I get back on. "This time really look up!", cries Will. "See those power lines, I want you to keep looking at them no matter what happens!!!". I follow instructions to the letter and feel a huge impact of the massive leap on landing. But I'm good. I'm looking up. We travel.

Next up - ski jump. "I want you to trot into it", calls Will. "Remember, you are in control. You make her trot." The ski jump goes well, but the take off and landing are on the verge of out of control. "You can't let her take off", explains Will. "It's good that she feels confident over some jumps, but if she gets worried you will come unstuck. You must be in control. All these jumps can be done from a standstill. Go slow. Make her listen." He couldn't be any more clear. This is exactly what Anna has been telling me too.

"She's a bit of a doer", calls Will, "not a thinker. She just wants to do it. She's not thinking of what's coming until she's on top of it. Then she reconsiders, then she thinks. That's too late. She needs to think about it earlier. When you take control and slow her down, she'll start thinking a bit more. You must always be in control." He nails it.

We do a few more logs. Will is keen to continue, but I'm getting weary. More emotionally weary, than physically. Although I have every right to be physically weary. "How old did you say this horse was?!", he calls out as Princess and I canter up the hill. "18!" "Can't see it one bit!", he shouts back. "Ok, lets go and do water."

Water. Spectator's delight, competitor's fright. "Just walk her into it", says Will. She walks in without hesitation. "Ok, now trot". Good as gold. "Too easy! Do it a couple more times. That's all there is to it. Grade 5 just walk in and out. Grade 4 just jump down this little bank. You're good."

We walk back to the car, catching up on family gossip. One thing becomes really clear in my mind. I am just as out of control as all those other adult riders. And this is just not the way to do cross country.

Feeling the fear

Tomorrow I am having a cross country lesson with Will Enzinger. And I feel the fear. But fear of what?

For goodness' sakes. Pull yourself together girl. I mean, Will is a great guy and a supportive teacher. So it can't be fear of Will.

Fear of a cross country lesson? I've had heaps of cross country lessons before and I have never ever had a BAD cross country lesson. I've had BAD showjumping lessons, but not XC.

Fear of Wandin? Wandin is known for its undulating countryside. But this is just a lesson. If you get out of control, you just circle until you get control back again. Too easy.

Fear of the early morning, the journey down a little known road with burning off going on either side? Get a grip. As long as the horse gets on the float I will be fine.

So, fear of what? Fear of actually realising my dreams? Yes.

This is the first step to a one day event. This is my dream. It stands in front of me now, within reach. And the easiest thing is to form an excuse and take a step back. The hardest thing is to step forward and live it.

Triple bar

I set up a triple bar jump in the paddock. It's simulated with logs and tyres, but it looks pretty much like the real thing.

I do my normal warm up. Then I practice cantering down the hill. I only go half way up the hill. The aim is to get a good downhill canter going, and not to get out of control. We have another 4 or 5 weeks to get right to the top. The canters go reasonably well.

Then I commence my jumping. Trot poles, cross rails, barrells. Then the triple bar. I point Princess at it and aim right for the middle. She jumps. Good. We come at it again. Then, what's this feeling I'm getting? Is that the horse not racing at the jump, but actually waiting for me to give the signal? Yes, it must be. Two strides out from the jump, I give the signal. She stretches out and sails over it. Wow. So smooth. Such partnership.

Wandin preparations

I do some serious dressage with Princess this morning and it goes really well. My seat to pommel and chest out is now starting to take up natural form and doesn't feel like a cramping yoga pose any more.

Preparing the horse for the event is the number one thing, but in reality many other preparations also go on in the background.

There is a whole spreadsheet covering training schedule, list of local events leading up to the big event, list of gear, it goes on. Don't get me started.

Today I casually wander into Horseland. They know me by name. Is it obvious whether I am just looking today, or whether I am here to spend serious money? Probably. The assisstant is at my side in seconds. Not that I mind, because all of the assisstants here are absolutely delightful.

I investigate top boots. This involves putting on a pair of jodhpurs, and boots and sitting in a saddle, on a saddle stand. Another client is testing out a saddle next to me. "I'll race you", I call out to him. "I think you'd win", he comments after a long glance at the cream joddies with shining black boots. "Hey, it's not the gear, it's the quality of horse", I retort. We laugh. I decide to take the jodhpurs and leave the boots. For today.

Onto cross country safety vests. I almost faint when I see the price, but I try one on anyway. Just for size and feel. It feels like I'm sitting in a cardboard box, with my arms, neck and legs sticking out. I wonder how in the world I can ride a horse in this contraption. The assistant reassures me that you "get used to it". Sure. At the very least I do feel pretty bomb proof. We play around with the fastenings and the sizing. I spend about 15 minutes in it, and I actually do get used to it. I probably need a size smaller though.

Then I pick up some gloves, some worming paste, and, of course, horse stickers for Sabina.

Heading for Wandin

Recently I grabbed whereis.com plus a list of HRCAV events, and started checking which events are closest to the farm. Wandin came up, being a mere 60 something minutes away. That will be 1h 20mins with horse. The event is the TTT Horse Trials on May 30 and 31st. Bingo. I started preparations to do Grade 4.

Being a TTT event, there are all sorts of associated rules with it. One is to either show evidence of three horse trials within 12 months at the required level, or to get level assessed. The level assessor comes out today and I show her my best moves in dressage, showjumping and cross country. Sabina runs around the paddock after me with a handful of mandarin pieces. At the end, the assessor looks at the beautiful undulating paddock I school in and says "Please canter up the hill, and then canter back down". Gulp. I do as told, and to my amazement, the horse doesn't just go for a mad downhill dash. "Now walk". That's tougher, but we get there.

The assessor signs off my cards and I'm ready to enter the event.