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.