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.

The click

I jump on Princess with eagerness, ready to try out the theory of self preservation. The formula here is firstly to feel if the horse goes into preservation mode, and then give her every reason to decide that she doesn't need to be in self preservation mode. Slow her down, reassure her with hand and voice. Praise her. Tell her with body and voice that everything is ok.

I also set up a picnic table jump. Our challenge for today.

Warm up, jumping warm up, then the barrells. Self preservation mode. I coo and gently slow her down. It seems to be working. Another jump. All is going well, we do the picnic table. She sails over it. We try it a couple of times and then I make it more difficult, plus I raise the height of another jump. She's starting to get tired now, and every now and then I get that typical self preservation mode. I tell Princess its ok (with body and voice) and she comes back to me faster than normal. It's excellent.

A couple more jumps, I think to myself. Then, something unbelievable happens. The click. Not the sound, the feeling. At take off. A real spring up. A real "try". Wow.

Self preservation

During the week I read an article on Eventing in Thailand. Somewhere in the article I read something along these lines:

"... if you push them [horses] too hard during cross country, they go into self preservation mode, where they will just grab the bit and keep galloping ..."

The penny drops. Self preservation. The grabbing of the bit, the stiff neck, the galloping away like there is no tomorrow. That's 100% Princess. I've never heard it coined so well. Or maybe I just wasn't ready to hear it. Either way, my horse's big secret is out.

She is so worried about everything, that she just goes into self preservation mode. In addition, if I ask for something that requires more fitness than she has, she also goes into self preservation mode. And she is such a strong and athletic horse, that she can afford to stay in this mode for an entire ride. Be it an hour, or two, or three.

My attitude does a 180 degree turn. I can't wait for tomorrow, to test this out.

Dream canter

With Crownie broken I have all morning to focus on Princess. We ride out. The aim of the ride is to test out my newly found level of control.

I get the odd hesitation as we head down Invert track. Then I ask for trot up Stanley Vale road. All good in trot, I ask for canter. It's a dream. Gone is the grab of the bit, the stiff neck and the out of control horse that won't stop till we get back home. This is a brilliant cross country canter. Full of strength and power, bowling along with a keen eye and alert ear.

Half way up the hill I bring her back to trot. Then canter on the other lead.

At the top of the hill we return to walk and amble along all the way home. As we head back up Invert track, I sit forward and hold the reins at the buckle. The horse keeps walking. I do my ultimate test of horse control. I take the phone out of my pocket and take a photo.

Too much formula

I have been sitting at work all week, dying to re-apply my "seat to pommel" formula. So when I hit the arena this morning I am just too keen.

For starters, my muscles aren't used to the "seat to pommel" yoga type pose. So when I hop on Princess, I can't seem to quite get it right. On top of that, she's had four days in the paddock to think about it. And she thinks it may be all too hard for her. I get a bit of head tossing, but mainly I struggle to stay "seat to pommel" for more than a couple of strides. It's dissapointing.

Crownie on the other hand, my trainable horse, is compliant. Somehow, I manage to hold the "seat to pommel" pose with shoulders back and open chest. She goes down nicely on the bit, and engages well. After 20 minutes I feel that this might be enough. Surely not? It's only 20 minutes! I change rein in the walk, Crownie drops a leg and pulls a back muscle. I try a trot but she is most visibly lame. Damn! I've broken my horse.

Quickly I jump off and go into recovery mode. Good rub down to get the blood flowing, then a canvas blanket with felt underlay to keep the area warm.

Seat to pommel at home

Time to apply my new formula to work at home, and to different horses.

I put Princess in the round yard and hop on. (The benefit of working in the round yard is that I don't have to worry about the reins at all, except possibly to slow down or stop). Seat to pommel, shoulders back, open the chest. It feels great. I test this out in both walk and trot and the horse goes better than ever, even though I am not holding a contact on the reins.

I test the formula on Crownie. The change in her is amazing. She's like a totally new horse. She feels very engaged in the hind quarters and much happier in her work.

Seat to pommel

I have a lesson with Anna. Due to the fires I had to skip last month, and now I am lesson hungry.

I breathe in every word she says. "Try and get your seat bones closer to the pommel", she says. I tuck my seat in. "Closer to the pommel", she repeats. My brain screams "rediculous!", but somehow I manage to assume this yoga type pose. "And streighten your legs, down and back", she comments. I get a cramp that's killing me, but I don't tell her. I grind my teeth together and ride on. "Seatbones to pommel", she repeats. I shift again. "And straighten in the shoulders, feel like you're opening your chest up, like you're taking a huge breath." I follow the instructions, including actually taking the big breath. For good measure.

"Seat to pommel", she repeats again. Obviously, the big breath has shifted me out of position. "Straighten up". "Seat to pommel". "Seat to pommel". "Straighten up". "Seat to pommel". "And now, ...drive." I feel it. The interconnectedness of my back, my seat, my elbows and my hands with the horse. And I drive. And the horse responds with a tremendous walk. She chomps on the bit, she steps under, she arches her neck, and I'm in control.

Inside my mind, my brain triumphantly waves a piece of paper with the secret formula. Eureka!

(I also note that my "tuck the seat in" was the first step of this process, and I give myself a little pat on the back.)

Sold!

The weather has been sensational for the last 10 days. But today, as people are due to arrive to view my horses for sale, the heavens open up. It pours mercilessly as the first vehicle pulls in, and I can barely see the horses in the paddock.

"That's the Clydie cross, the one looking at us", I scream at the visitors over the wind and rain. The power goes out. I get a break in the weather when it's time to ride. Throughout the ride I keep updating the prospective buyers on what I am doing, why, and what they would need to do to get this horse going. Tosca is reluctant, she doesn't want to trot, and at the end she rears. Great. "I don't suppose you want to ride?". The lady shakes her head. She looks pale.

Heavens open up and I struggle to lead a frustrated horse back to the hitching rail. The prospective buyers "umm" and "ahh" for a while. Tosca turns left and right. This is pretty good behaviour for her. I get drenched. The lady is about to walk away, when the guy blurts out "look, I have a good feeling about this one". He hands over the right amount of money. Sold.

We get her on the float and soon they disappear in the rain.

(This is exactly what "not to do" when buying a horse.)