That track

A couple of weeks ago I started investigating a track with Gally. Today, I get up early and we ride off into the second plantation, to investigate the track fully.

I have since looked at the map in more detail, and have secret hopes that the track crosses the creek and returns to the first plantation.

After yesterday's experience, I have every intention of taking the whip with me. But the day is so windy, that I decide to leave it behind. I will regret this later.

The track meanders beautifully along a ridge. Then we come to a huge bog hole. There are tracks to the left and right of the bog hole. We take the track on the right, and at the very end it meets up with the bog. Sure, you can pass without getting a hoof wet, but you have to get really close to the big black pool. Gally is convince there's a better way. Like maybe just going home.

I stick my spurs in, and he very quickly starts going backwards. Now, what was it about that whip? I keep my spurs on until he takes the smallest step forward. Then I take a break, and snap myself a little twig. It's like a fly swat against a gun. We fight this battle for a while. Eventually, I win. Sort of. We make it past the bog hole. But not exactly where I wanted to go. Gally prefers to bush bash, than skirt the bog. This will cost me.

However, the upside of the experience is that Gally finds another gear, an extra spark in his step, some extra zest for life. All of a sudden, he is interested in the ride. He wants to do the odd trot when the track is even. He is willing. It's awesome.

As much as I am overjoyed with my horse and his new found attitude, I am disappointed in the track. We can see the creek below, but the track makes no effort to cross it. Rather it meanders alongside, teasingly getting closer and closer to it.

Eventually it comes to the creek's edge. The creek is a mere dry bed. It's not even remotely wet. It would be dead easy to cross, right here, right now. But the track makes no attempt. You can cross at your own peril and bush bash your way home. I look at the typical Australian bush, self similar and dense in places. Not without a map thanks.

I return to the track, which meanders up the hill and crosses a tributary. On the other side of the tributary it goes up steeply. I am willing to go up the track, but should it lead to nowhere, I am not really willing to come back down it. We turn around and head home.

Gally, realising we're heading home, gets an extra spark in his stride, and bravely trots and canters over some tricky terrain. I actually have to slow him down in places. The bog hole causes us many issues, but we get past it eventually. Then we canter on. Slowly I release the reins until I am just holding onto the buckle. Then I sit back and enjoy the most wonderful canter I have ever had in my life.

Forwards!

Gally and I go into the haying paddock to do some dressage. The warm up goes well. The work is mediocre. And I am not happy. And why is this horse just not going forwards?!

He hasn't been worked for two weeks and it's all just fallen apart. Having said that, the canters are actually quite good. But once we've finished the canters, stop. One big fat stop.

Recently I've been riding without the whip, to ensure that I am using my legs and seat, but today I bitterly regret that decision. My legs have done all they can, and now I am in need of the whip, and it's not here. Argh!

I put Gally away and get Crownie.

Crownie, hasn't been ridden for at least three weeks. In comparison to Gally, she goes brilliantly. And even without any comparisons, she goes competition ready.

Later in the day I have a good think about my ride on Gally. Going large around the imaginary arena, a few 20m circles, couple of changes on the diagonal. How boring! What was I thinking?! Gally might not be going like a Grand Prix horse, but that doesn't mean we can't do some interesting exercises. Sheesh!

Long Ride

I take Gally for a long ride in the state forest. We make it as far as the second plantation, and I start investigating a side track. The track is gorgous, weaving gently through the forest. I run out of time to investigate fully, and turn for home, with every intention to come back soon.

Along the way we enjoy loose rein walks and trots. Gally's stride is relaxed, and somewhat resigned. Like a young child who has just resigned themselves to wandering these tracks for ever. So he is somewhat taken aback when finally we see our home. He trots purposefully up the hill.

The Mistake

Pretty much from the time I have owned Gally I have realised that I make some fundamental mistake when catching him. I've always been able to catch him, but some of his antics have indicated that he doesn't have much respect for me on the ground.

I have asked various people for help, but nothing has helped. What I really wanted is for someone to observe me as I catch him, but I didn't exactly ask for it in those words.

Because of these problems, I have been very strict recently to lead him properly. That is, to be just in front of his shoulder, to not let him rush past, and if he stops to give him a gentle flick of the rope behind me. And this has worked really well.

Today Gally is in a particularly steep part of the paddock when I approach him. I am too lazy to walk right down to his shoulder and I clip the lead rope on while standing in front of him, then pull on the lead rope. He resists. I pull harder and eventually he takes a step forward. As he does so, I feel his respect for me melt away into nothing. This is the fatal mistake.

For some bizzare reason, the action of pulling on the headstall can get him to yield, but it does not build any respect. Whereas when I stand next to him, and flick him with the lead rope, as though it was my tail, he is much happier to respect me, and follow me out of respect.

I used to have a similar problem with Princess, but she was a lot more timid than Gally, and it was easier to "ignore" her.

Cross Country Training

I meet Jen and Kris at Drouin pony club, we saddle up and do a quiet warm up.

"I want you to shorten your stirrups", says Jen.
"I've already shortened them 3 holes", I respond.
"I want you to shorten them another 4", says Jen.
"4?!", I gasp.
"Ok, try 2 for size", Jen smiles, "But long term, honestly, aim for 4."

Kris is in the background nodding her head in encouragement, making it sound like it's a really good idea. I do as told, and go for a test walk, trot and canter. Wow! Feels great!

Then we do the first jump, a little log. Gally's approach is good, but then he ends up 4 metres right of log, having made no jump in the process.

"Take him right back to the log, make him do it, and next time, don't let him run out", says Jen.

The shying seems to be a common theme as both horses shy, and stop. There is a good excuse, if you're looking for one. The grass has been mowed, but tufts of it still grow freely at the base of all the jumps. This does look scary and confusing. Both. But as a rider, you've got to stop making excuses for your horse, show some strong leadership, and get him to jump.

This is actually quite hard as 1000 scenarios race through your mind. Horse might stop, cat leap, take it long, short or high. And the only answer is confidence and leadership. Imagine you were the alpha horse, and you were trying to drive another horse over the jump. What would you do? You would bite his backside until he did what you wanted. Enough said.

There's no water in the water jump, yet Gally has a problem with it. It takes a fair bit of driving to get him into it, but once he's done it once he is just fine with it.

We test out the bank. It's made of tyres, well filled with soil, but nevertheless a bit soft at the edges, and not my favourite. The drop causes Gally some consternation, and when he finally drops down I jab him in the mouth. Not good. And then it dawns upon me. Unlike Princess, when Gally does a jump, he won't take off at a hundred miles an hour afterwards.

Next time down the bank I allow him a loose rein. He hesitates, then drops down with ease. The loose rein means my upper body has nothing to lean on, and out of necessity, my lower body kicks in, and flows perfectly with the horse. This is it, the "aha" moment I've been waiting for. I've had the feeling of balancing with my lower body before, but I've never quite understood what makes it tick. It's been a bit like rummaging for a torch in the dark.

From now on I ride totally differently, and the next couple of logs flow nicely. Onto a little enclosure, tall grass in the middle. The tall grass makes the horses stop right in their tracks. Great practice for that lower body balancing act. Then onto some black tyre jumps. They flow, and we tackle the grade 3 jump as well. I am actually very tempted to try the grade 2 jump, but I keep that to myself.

Then onto some pink and yellow tyres. They spook Gally, and I am supposed to be growling at him as an aid to go forwards. "I can't hear you!", comes from behind. It makes me laugh. Gally goes forwards and over the jump.

Finally we finish up, hose the horses, and lie down in the grass swatting the odd fly, muscles throbbing gently. I call Pete and tell him to the casserole in the oven. Dinner is as good as ready.

Believe what you read

Still the same problems - catching, brushing, saddling. I have decided that smacking doesn't work. So in order to not have to deal with the threat of teeth I tie a bailing twine from the headstall to the tail. Yes, I actually attach it to the tail. (A western horseman trick.) Then I work on the other side, using a gentle glove rather than a brush. This works very well as Gally yields to the pressure of the twine. Then we ride out to the state forest. The ride is great.

Upon my return I dig out a book "What your horse wants you to know: What your horses' bad behaviour means, and how to correct it" by Gincy Self Bucklin. The book is sorted by topic - kicking, biting, nipping, etc. I start reviewing what Gincy has to say about biting people, difficult to catch, biting while doing up the girth. Very last of all I look up biting while being brushed. (Last! This should have been my first topic! Not to mention that I should have looked up this book at least a week ago!)

Gincy's take on biting people, is that horses do it in anger, usually because they are uncomfortable. A lot of thoroughbreds are more sensitive, and genuinely don't like a hard brush. Learn to take a hint! If your horse is biting you in anger, it might be because he is unhappy about what you're doing! Use a different brush, use a different technique. Adapt!

The other thing I learn from Gincy's book is about doing up the girth. Apparently, you're supposed to pull down on the saddle first, and this should create enough slack in the girth, that you can easily do it up on the next hole. Hmmm ... interesting.

Rainy Riding

So, there was hard riding, easy riding and today is rainy riding. Arghh. Wet horses. Wet saddle. Wet breeches. Everything is wet wet wet. And by the end of the riding I am cold cold cold.

Easy Riding

Today I try easy riding. Just for comparison.

The difference between hard riding and easy riding is that in easy riding I try to give the horse fewer corrections. I still correct, but I give the horse a lot more freedom. A lot more freedom of rein, a lot more freedom in how fast or slow he walks. A lot more freedom to make a mistake.

He still ends up sweaty at the end, though not as much. And I definitely feel like it's an easier ride. However, when I dismount, he is no longer keen to follow me around. When I open the gate out of the arena, he takes a bit of prodding before he will swing around, and he snaps at me a couple of times with his teeth as I take the saddle off. He appears to have little respect for me.

So what is correct? The hard riding? Or the easy riding?

I know that Anna (my coach) would say that the "hard riding" is correct. The easy riding feels more Pat Parelli style. But of course Pat would say that the horse is bored and that I need to build some imagination.

And I am stuck in the middle. Because I am looking for that partnership with the horse. Hard riding makes the horse respect me, there's no doubt about it. But I feel like I just about have to carry the horse. Whereas easy riding feels nice, but of course the horse doesn't seem to respect me.

I don't really care what the right answer is. I just wish I had the time to work all this out for myself.