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.