Seville Pony Club Horse Trials

We're off to a competition today, and Gally will not get on the float. Luckily, Pete is happy to help, and we're on our way. (Where is the magic patting trick? Clearly, not working.)

We arrive at Wandin and settle in. I tack up for dressage and report to gear check.

"Oh, I am sorry, but you can't ride with spurs or with that whip", says the gear checker. "But you can ride with a crop. Oh, and you must have a medical arm band."

I zip back to the float, make the necessary adjustments and return to the gear check.

"Oh, I am sorry, but you must take your earings out." Now, is there any reason they couldn't tell me that the first time around?

I do as told, get a cute little dot on my arm band, and proceed to warm up. Bang! We find ourselves on the opposite side of the warm up area, in an unseated, uncontrollable rush. I end up on the ground, still holding onto the reins.

A lady runs up to me. "I am so sorry, my daughter's horse tripped." "So?", I think to myself. "Now according to the new pony club rules, you can't get back on until you've been cleared by the medical team", she goes on. I roll my eyes. "But I am a doctor, and I think you're fine to get back on."

Another woman runs up. "Oh you just dismounted, didn't you?", she asks. Yeah. Like I dismount at almost flat chat gallop on the off side all the time. It's a little trick I do at competitions.

I mount up and continue my warm up. A horse snorts, and Gally rushes off again, but this time I stay on. Someone sneezes, rush. A horse comes up behind, rush. On the one hand, I have a horse that's not going forward, on the other hand I get mad rushes and leaps every now and then.

Then a friend arrives, and I allow Gally to stand while we chat. I've given up on the dressage warm up.

Finally it's my turn. I ride up to the judge, introduce myself, and commence the test. It's two points short of brilliant. Gally doesn't shy once, and while he's a bit wobbly on the left rein, the right rein is just perfect. Excellent trot. Brilliant canter. Sure it could all do with some spurs. But, as my friend puts it, it's 200% better than 3 months ago.

I put Gally away and walk the cross country course. It looks Gally friendly.

During the warm up for XC, Gally is jumping well, but his behaviour between jumps is rediculous. He does this thing where he twists left, then right, then rushes off. Or he puts his head down after the jumps and starts humping. By this stage, my brain seems to have kicked in, and I manage to catch him with the rein on his first twist. Or on his first or second hump. It all happens so fast though, that it's never a conscious reaction.

Finally we're on the course, and Gally thinks it's time to race back to the float. I slow him down. "Oh me gott, there's a jump in front of us", freaks Gally. "Oh, and there's person to the left", he veers a metre off course. I refocus him on the jump and we get over number one. "Now it's time to go back to the float", Gally tries to gallop off.

We approach nubmer 2 at trot, with Gally trying to go left and right. "Oh mee, there's a person", he freaks at the judge. Those judges on course, they sit really still, but I am starting to wish they'd wave.

Number 3 is a boxy little tractor, and he just can't do it from a standstill. We circle and he jumps it on the second approach. At the ditch he still gawks at the judge. At number 5 he nods at the judge. Then he freaks out at the fallen log in the middle of the paddock. It's not part of the course, but Gally just cannot believe we can just cruise past it and not get eaten.

Then we get our groove. Six is a breeze, and we're half way over 7, when "click" goes the camera. Gally freezes mid-stride. I laugh at the camera man, and on we go. A few more jumps, then ... water. Like last time, we don't actually have to do the water, but we have to do a jump on the other side of the water. It's not "flowing", it's not fast, but we succeed. And the rest of the course is put away without another hiccup. I am very proud of my little horse.

The showjumping is running very late, and the line up is absolute chaos. People are pushing in under the pretext of work and funerals. Finally, we get our turn, and Gally jumps a very calm round. Albeit so slow, that we get 4 time penalties.

The results read something like this: after the dressage we were equal fourth! Then we got two refusals and time penalties in cross country, and time penalties in showjumping. Which leaves us second last. But ... but ... not eliminated. Yay!

More spook

Today we ride into the state forest. Gally is going well, but he appears to be more spooked by everything than normally. We can ride past everything, but it's like he has lost confidence.

On the other hand, when we trot I get a beautiful trot, on the aids, nice and relaxed with rhythm and swing in his stride. In the past most trots were like running.

So now I am confused as to what is causing the change. Is it the fact that the "patting" has somehow made him rely on me more, because I am now the boss. Or has our little run and bail episode yesterday changed the nature of riding?

Better trot

I am warming up, I have just asked Gally to trot, and since he is not making much of an effort I dig a spur in. Bang. Like a flash we end up on the opposite side of the arena, heading for the jumps. I've lost a stirrup, but that doesn't worry me at all. We go over two jumps, and the horse keeps rushing forwards, seemingly terrified. I bail.

I get back on and take a solid contact on the rein, and ask for a more serious effort. Everything is fine. The rest of the dressage work goes very well. In fact, I start to notice a real improvement in the trot. It's like it has body and soul, and makes me feel quitely confident about Sunday's horse trials.

So why the outburst at the start?

Photos from Pony Club: Sabina and Tornado

Riding by herself - reins and all.

Lining up.

Leading practice.

Waiting for instructions.

Photos from Pony Club: Gally

Getting ready at the float.

Warming up in the jumping arena.

Going over the grade 5 jump.

Going over the grade 4 jump.

The patting trick

So, here we are, at pony club, and I need to get Gally on the float all by myself. I walk him up the ramp, he looks in, then quickly retreats backwards.

I go and grab the dressage whip, and we have another go. This time, when he retreats back I am quick to follow it with a few quick flicks of the whip, until he takes a step forward again. The ears go back and teeth come out. I sigh.

I lead him up the ramp again, and this time rather than using the whip I give him a few pats. He puts his head down, and walks on all by himself. Magic.

Pony Club

Sabina is off to pony club today. With entourage fit for a queen. Car, float. On the float Gally and Tornado, washed and in their summer rugs. On the car, a bike. In the car, mum and dad.

When we get to the Drouin Pony Club grounds, I quickly saddle up Gally and take him cross country. He goes really really well, and I am almost ready to start jumping the level 3 jumps. Yay. Just need a bit more "click". Pete, Sabina and Tornado (still in his rugs), watch.

Then it's Sabina's turn. Pete helps her to saddle up her pony, helmet on, mum fills out the paperwork and hands over appropriate cheque, and she's ready to ride. While we're in the lesson, Pete quickly gets the bike off the roof, and rides back home.

Meanwhile, in the arena, Sabina is riding all by herself (holding the reins and all), together with about five other little girls. During the trotting, I run alongside her, and just slow Tornado down a touch. Then we practice getting on and off. Of course, with that many beginners in the class, there is a lot of standing around. On the hot sand. In the hot sun.

"Mama, this is boring", Sabina says. "I want to go and do my own thing, and let Tornado do his own thing."

Deep down I laugh. Tornado does too much of his own thing. That's one reason we're here.

We go back to our float for a lunch break.

"Mama, I want some ice cream", declares the flushed, tired, thirsty, hungry little girl.

"I didn't bring any ice cream".

"Mama, you have to bring ice cream", she flares, "go and get it RIGHT NOW!"

I sigh, a deep, mother's sigh. I am saved by a marzipan bar, and we get enough sanity that Sabina is willing to wash her hands and face in a cool bucket of water. Then she has a drink, and we're back to the happy child I am used to. Relief. She is even willing to give back the marzipan bar, and eat a proper lunch. Yay!

In the afternoon, we go for a mock hunt. Basically, we go around the cross country course, walking over a couple of tiny little logs, looking for a hidden parcel or two. Well, maybe the logs are not so little. Tornado gets stuck on one such little log, his belly resting on the jump. It's very funny. Maybe we should have gone in the non-jumping field?

All is well. The parcel is found, and in it is a bag of lollies. We all enjoy a sausage sizzle, a drink and lollies.

"Did you enjoy the day?", I ask on the way home.

"Yes", Sabina responds enthusiastically. "But mama, I need a bigger pony!"

"Oh." In the lesson, Sabina was on the smallest pony. Everyone else thought he was awesome, but obviously she doesn't see it that way. "I'll get you a bigger pony when you learn to canter."

"Ok", she says, "can we learn today?"

Gally's secret

For months now I have been putting up with poor ground manners from Gally. Biting, cow kicking, being restless at the hitching rail. Even breaking away. Not wanting to get on the float. Not wanting to be caught. I've only managed to get bitten once, but I must admit that getting up at 5:30am to get Gally from the paddock, was not something I was really looking forward to.

I had solicited advice from every single horse person who crossed my path. The advice varied from growl, smack, get on with it, wait, ignore it, knee him in the guts. I appreciated the advice, and tried it out, but the behaviour was just getting progressively worse.

I want to stress, that at all times the riding has been going really well, and progressing at a pretty good rate.

It's a pretty terrible predicament to be in, especially when one is aspiring to be a horse trainer. Add to that years of "you've got no talent to be a hrose trainer" comments from my mum, and you are just about ready to give up, or sell the horse, and try with another one. After all, all the other horses I own or am in charge of seem very very happy.

The problem with giving up on Gally is this. I believe that you get what you asked for. And before I even heard that Gally was for sale I asked to become the best horse trainer in the country. Yes, that was the honest to goodness wish. No half measures. So I believe that Gally is here to be my teacher. He has already taught me heaps about where and how you need to sit in the saddle, and now he is trying to teach me another lesson.

Today at the hitching rail he is just unworkable. The ears are back and the teeth lash out in every direction. He is restless at the rail. I get my jumping whip and smack him on the backside, then keep tapping him gently on the backside, while I calm down. He calms down. He relaxes. The head comes down, and ears go forward.

I breathe a sigh of relief, put down the crop and get the brush. The ears go back and the teeth come around again. I use the brush as protection against the bite, and with my free hand start patting. Gally calms down, and I can proceed with brushing.

Holy bananas! That's it! Gally's secret. Patting. Not stroking. Patting. Patting for everything. Patting to say "calm down, it's okay", as opposed to "good boy for trying to bite me". Leadership in action. Wow!

Sleepy head

I got up to the farm really late last night.

I wake up at 11:40am!!! I quickly do my sums. If I got up right now and went riding, I would just be able to get a ride in. That's assuming I can catch my horse in 1 minute. Forget it.

I slowly amble out of bed, and make french toast.

What's missing?

Today, dressage. It was supposed to be jumping, but I haven't had time to bring the jumps up from the amphetheatre. And I can't be bothered schooling in the amphetheatre because I suspect the grass is too long. What a lame excuse.

Anyhow. Here we are. Walk. Trot. Canter. Canter? The canter is awesome. Gally is travelling forwards, and he is just starting to pick up his head and carry himself. This is how it's supposed to be.

So what is missing in the walk and the trot? It's actually hard for me to say what is missing. What I do know is that I have been training the paces differently. In the walk and the trot I have been training Gally in accordance with my coach's instructions. In the canter, I followed my intuition.

In the canter I have not worried at all about whether the horse is on the aids. I have just focussed on driving him forward, and sitting well, enjoying the canter, keeping a long rein and staying in control. And here it is. The horse is on the aids of his own accord.

So now I feel I need to go back to the drawing board in the walk and trot, and ask Gally for the same things as in the canter.

And where does that leave my coach? Do I change coaches, or do I go back to her and tell her about my experience? Schooling without a coach is not an option. The whole coach situation is very frustrating. I just can't seem to find a coach who is close by and who I can truly trust and work with.

Put Gally away and get Crownie.

She goes well, but once again it's obvious that the canter is better than the walk and the trot. I don't need her to tell me that anyway. I know. I can feel it. By riding Gally forwards and on a long rein in the canter, he has taught me exactly where and how I am supposed to sit. And when I sit like that, the canter just works. I guess I need to take the same approach in the walk and the trot and see what happens.

Improving the canter

Gally and I ride out and this time I take my dressage whip with me. We take Invert track into the valley, then follow the valley floor at walk and trot. We continue at walk along another road, then we turn left into H Tree Road.

The beauty of approaching H Tree Road from this side is that it goes at a steady incline, and you can pretty much canter the length of it. 2km.

We take up the canter. Gally is happy enough to bowl along, but after two hundred metres he returns to trot. Enter girl determined to canter all the way. We resume the canter, and my legs are working over time to continue the action. As the track goes steeper up hill, I urge my horse on, at the same time working the reins a bit to get his head off the ground.

By the time we reach the junction with the track to YeSlabAttackInn, I am exhausted and gladly return to the walk. Gally shares my point of view. In fact, isn't it time for a snack? He eyes off the tufts of grass amongst the trees. I kick him on into an active walk.

We also have the luck to pass a few puddles. Most of them are tiny, but Gally eyes them off with significant suspicion. I am very tempted to push him closer to the puddles, but manage to stare into space and ignore them. And slowly, Gally starts to relax, and walk past the puddles with greater ease. Towards the end of our ride we need to walk along a little ridge between two bog holes. Gally sees the road home, and walks along the ridge with confidence.

So good!

My daughter has just started school, and today I get a morning to myself. Riding time! Yay! This just feels so good.

I bring Gally in for some dressage. I do my normal warm up with a loose rein walk and trot. Then I progress onto some more walk and trot with contact. Then onto canter. It appears to me that something is starting to happen. Something good.

For starters, it feels like Gally is getting the idea of going forwards. I no longer have to kick him on every two strides to get action.

For seconds, he is starting to go into the bit out of his own choice. This is a bit of a hit and miss affair still, but it's definitely starting to happen. This is totally different to driving the horse into the bit. Sure, I can do that. But on this horse, it just doesn't feel quite right. Instead, it is more about suggesting that he could take up the bit, and then he does. (I "suggest" by doing the standard inside leg to outside rein, followed by asking the horse to flex with the inside rein. But I use very little force.)