Friends of Melton Horse Trials

It's 6:39am in the morning, Dingo is on the float, and we're off to Melton.  We're thirty nine minutes late.  It's worked into the schedule, but still.

The drive is easy and uneventful, and we arrive in Melton, just as the sunshine breaks through the clouds, and I get a glimpse of the cross country jumps, as we enter the grounds.  They look well built, well maintained.  Gulp.  I mean really, what was I expecting?  A couple of rotten logs?

We park, settle in, saddle up and head for the dressage arena.  Recently, I have been very unhappy with my dressage, so I am not expecting much.  In addition, the clay grounds are squelchy and boggy.  I just focus on what the coach said in my last dressage lesson as I ride the test.  And I focus on harmony.  If nothing else, make it look like my pony and I are in harmony.  The second canter in the test actually rides really well, and I give the judge a smile as I do my final salute.  It feels mediocre, but it's over and done with.  Now onto the fun stuff.

I leave Dingo at the float, and walk the cross country course.  When I look at the size of the jumps, my eyes keep noticing the grade 3 jumps.  Then I catch myself, look at the tag on the jump, and realise I need to be doing the slightly smaller, grade 4 jump.  Three years ago, grade 3 jumps used to look so huge!  Massive.  A real ask.  Now I gaze at them with a certain ... well ... envy.  What happened?

The grade 4 cross country course looks great, with lots of scope for a gallop or two.  Jump three is a little seat, with a bright yellow plank at the front.  I think this will be the show stopper.  The other jumps of note are the drop - it just comes at you out of nowhere, the bounce could be an issue because it comes at the end of a long gallop, the concrete pipes might get a second look because of their white colour, and the brick wall.  It's solid brick.  None of this wooden box business painted to like like brick wall.  Solid, solid brick.  You really don't want a stop there.  There is also a water jump, but it looks quite nice and inviting.

I return to the float, saddle up for showjumping (as the organisers have scheduled this before cross country), and ride towards the warm up area.  Dingo is very relaxed and feels more at home than at home.  Then I notice a lone figure, on foot, heading straight towards me.  She looks familiar.  In fact, I know exactly who that is.  But, really?  Can it be?  I checked the starters list and her name wasn't there.  But it is.  It's K.  There's been a scratching, and her entry was only confirmed last night.  We greet with a hug and have a few laughs.  Then she watches my showjumping round on Dingo.  We go clear.  But I am not actually fully happy with the round.  Dingo doesn't feel like he's on the ball.  It's like he is too relaxed, and I feel like I have to carry him over a couple of the jumps.

Now I have a nice long break before cross country.  I get Dingo comfortable at the float with a nice biscuit of lucerne hay and an assortment of appropriate rugs, grab my lunch and go off to socialise with K and J at their float.

We check the scores so far, and lo and behold, after dressage and showjumping I am coming equal third!!!  My dressage score is amazing!  I cannot believe it.

Later we watch the grade 2 and grade 3 cross country.  The clay grounds are very wet, due to the recent rains, but the cross country seems to ride very well.  The ground is sticky rather than slippery.

I get Dingo ready for cross country, and we walk over to the warm up area.  The pony is super relaxed.  When you consider that a few years ago I was on a horse that had trouble keeping all four legs on the ground prior to cross country, then this is a really really nice change.  But I'm not happy because Dingo just wants to stand still and snooze, while I need all his joints to warm up.

We enter the start box, and I eye off the first jump, a mere 20 metres ahead of me.  Ten, nine.  I start my stop watch.  Three, two, one, go!  Yes, go!  I dig both heels in with zest, and follow it with a quick whip snap.  Dingo takes off with energy.  Four strides out from the third jump, the one I think might be a show stopper, I flick him with the whip again.  The pony takes off like the hounds of hell are after him.  He leaps over the fence and gallops.   Boy, does he gallop.  I lean back in the saddle and struggle to regain control over the next two jumps.  I slow him down to a trot as we approach the drop.  Child's play.  Then the water.  The water!?!  We never trained the water.  We trained puddles, yes, not drops into water.  Dingo stops, unsure of the surface in front of him.  He darts left, then right, then drops into it and goes through.

Then we're heading back towards the float, and he takes off at another uncontrollable gallop.  I slow him up, just before the bounce, and from there on we find our groove.  The course flows.  I feel the wind in my face, the sun on my back and my heart leaps for joy with every stride.  Before I know it we're over the brick wall and I check my watch.  Whoa!  I said whoa!  We're way, way too fast.  I slow Dingo to a steady canter, and we jump the last fence.

At the vet check, Dingo is huffing and puffing like a little steam engine.  But the vet gives me the thumbs up and says "one of the fittest I've seen".  Go figure.  Well, I better get myself a stethoscope, and stop relying on this "blowing" business.

As we walk back to the float, I stop and turn towards Dingo.  "Hey, you're on holidays now!  Why don't you take a joyous leap or something?".  He gazes at me, and continues his relaxed amble.  (He does take a leap, later on, at home.)

Well, that stop at the water has cost me two refusals.  Twenty points.  At least I didn't get any time penalties for going too fast.  I slip down to 12th.

I've had a fantastic day.  I drive home under time pressure.  My husband has invited me out to the pub for dinner, but I must be back before the pub kitchen closes.  I make it, and we enjoy a lovely dinner, with my daughter dressed up for the occasion in a sparkling fairy dress and ribbons in her hair.  Priceless.

The trouble with going to Melton?  It felt like a mere hop, skip and a jump away, and now I am eyeing off Colac (a further 2 hours away).