Lil and the Novice Test

I entered Lil in a Preliminary and a Novice dressage test at an unofficial competition at the local riding school.  This would be Lil's and mine first crack at Novice.  Universal Guidance made me do it.

Well the day was an absolute disaster, with Lil coming an absolute last in everything.  So why in the world did the Universe make me do Novice?  I mean, the day was so bad, that I should really see myself and my horse as a total failure, and give up.  But, you see, the Universe knows me better than I know myself.  So the effect of this experience has been total focus and determination to succeed.  The experience made me in tune with every minute detail of my horse, my gear, my competition arena, and my fellow competitors.  I have learnt so much!

So, what exactly happened, and what have I learnt.

1.  Magnesium.  For a long time Lil has been exhibiting some symptoms of a magnesium deficiency.  When the Chiropractor came out, he suggested magnesium oxide.  We got it, and I started supplementing her with it.  Immediately I noticed an improvement.  The day before the competition I doubled her dose thinking that it might help her cope better with the stress the next day.  The problem with magnesium is that a deficiency presents the same signs as an overdose.  On competition day Lil was showing signs of a magnesium overdose - I think I gave her too much.  Her symptoms on the day were slightly sloppy poo (which can also be stress), and a sensitivity to sounds.  The latter is the worry.  When we were warming up, every time someone coughed, or banged a door, she would leap like a cat.

2.  New saddle blanket.  I had just bought a new saddle blanket.  I had never ever tried it on Lil before.  It was one of those beautiful white dressage saddle blankets, with a sheepskin lining.  Well, it's hard to determine if the saddle blanket was an issue or not, but, because it was a new, untried piece of equipment, it worried me.  And there is no time for worry on a horse that's leaping around.  Period.

3.  Overfeeding.  It had recently turned from total winter, to total summer.  In a matter of about 4 weeks.  The horses cannot shed their fur fast enough, and the grass is galloping with growth.  I fed Lil her normal feed.  But during brushing I noticed a slight soreness in her back.  So, after I worked her, I thought "if I feed her a bit of extra protein, that stiffness should recover faster".  Well, my thinking is correct, but on this particular occasion I think I overfed her.  When I hopped on her at the competition, it really felt like a horse ready to gallop cross country.  Not one that is ready to relax in a dressage ring.  It would have been better to leave the soreness as it is - after all, she was working just fine with it when I rode her on the day before competition.

4.  Back soreness.  It begs the question "why was Lil sore in the back a mere ten days after the chiro had been?".  The soreness was right where the saddle ends.  In fact, perhaps a little bit further - where the saddle blanket ends.  Now Lil has a short back, and large hind quarters.  And the hind quarters are probably a bit higher than perfect conformation would allow.  For a long time now I have been thinking that Lil would be better off in a 16.5 inch saddle, rather than the 17 inch I currently ride in.  Plus, I ride her in an all purpose and it really puts me too far back in the saddle.  I should get a dressage saddle for her.  I recently rode in my instructor's Equipe saddle - I loved that saddle and where it put my seat.  But ... oh the expense of a new saddle.  But, what if that saddle made a difference between me getting a placing in the dressage comp, and me coming last?  What's that worth?

5.  Mindset.  On the day before the competition I was brushing my horse and looking at this sore spot and thinking "oh poor horse".  So I fed her extra.  Then I put her in a paddock with her best mate, because I was thinking "oh poor horse".  So, of course, when I hopped on her in the warm-up arena and she started leaping around like a cat, I was still thinking "oh poor horse" and looking for something to blame, like the other horses, the saddle blanket, the sore spot.  When you have decided that your horse is fit enough to ride, there is no room for thinking "oh poor horse".  After sufficient leaping around, and thinking the situation through, I finally realised that most of this is just bad behaviour that I am allowing the horse to get away with.  So then I actually started riding properly, and asking her to work for me, and it all improved.

6.  The sand arena.  You've heard this all before with Dingo.  The indoor is great for a warm-up, and then you're out in the sand arena for the test.  The sand flicks up against the arena edges, and the horses feel like there's someone with a machine gun on their heels.  Due to the magnesium thing Lil was more sensitive to this on the day.  But nevertheless I must invest the time to get out there between competitions and practice in the dressage arena until she is desensitised.  I've got to put in the work!

7.  Dressage is slow.  My bad results really made me take a second look at what the other riders are doing differently to me.  I was lucky enough to be watching the lady who ended up winning my Novice test.  She also happens to be an instructor I learn from occasionally.  Her horse was slow.  There was no rush.  She wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere.  That test could have lasted all day for all she cared.  I am not good at being slow.  This is probably why I'm an eventer.  This is probably why I choose to zoom around on a trail ride, wind in my hair, joy in my heart.  Going slow is really difficult for me.  Not just in horse riding.  In everything.  I want to do everything in a hurry, then sit back for half an hour and have a coffee.  Then zoom again.  That is not what dressage is about and if I am to become any good at it then I must take up this challenge.  I must learn to go slow.  Slow doesn't mean lazy.  There can be a lot of power in "slow".  There must be impulsion.  But it must be slow.  It might not feel slow to everyone.  But it will feel slow to me - if it feels slow, then I'm probably doing a pretty good job.

8.  Forward.  While dressage is slow, there must be forward.  In the warm-up before the second test I felt Lil hanging on the bit.  I flicked the whip and she didn't go faster, she went more forward - I felt her hold her head higher, and step under more.  So while Lil can be a hot horse, she can also be rather lazy - because she does this hanging on the bit a lot.  She is not super heavy on the bit so it's easy to just ignore it.  But ultimately, I must ask her to be more forward.

In summary, the overfeeding brought out the flighty horse in Lil, which in turn highlighted training issues: not coping in the sand arena, problems with transitions, going too fast and not enough forward.  What I am still wondering is whether I actually overfed her?  Perhaps I don't feed her enough normally, and she actually doesn't have enough energy?

On a parting note - this is probably my favourite dressage competition to date because I have walked away with so many strong and clear lessons.  I feel so inspired now that I want to put it all into practice ... right now!!!  Oh wait ... I have to learn to be slow ...

Perception

I had just bought some new jump stands.  A set of red, blue and yellow ones.  This is the first set of professionally made jump stands I have ever purchased.  Up until now I have used tyres, or aluminium brackets mounted on plastic drums at best.

My aluminium brackets have a maximum height of about 1.2m, so by the time you are jumping 80cm you feel like you are rapidly running out of room.  In comparison my new jump stands are 1.6m tall.  When we start running out of room I'll be very pleased indeed.

So I setup my new jump stands, put up a couple of cross rails in a grid, and a straight bar separately, and proceeded to jump Dingo.  We played around with the grid for a while, and then I eyed off the straight bar.  I had no idea what height it was set at, but I perceived it to be about grade 4 - 60cm or so.  I jumped it.  Dingo just touched it.  I jumped it again.  It felt good.  It felt smooth.  It felt "right".

When the jumping session was finished, I wandered out into the jumping paddock and admired my new stands again.  Out of habit. I measured the straight bar.  Whoa!  It was set at about 75cm.  I had been jumping grade 3, not grade 4.  The higher jump stands made the jump look smaller.

Had I known that this jump was 75cm tall I would have been biting my lip on approach, overriding in a thousand ways, and gnawing at myself inside with trepidation at stepping into the unknown.  But, because I perceived the jump to be 60cm tall, I rode it in the same way that I have ridden numerous courses, calm and confident that Dingo can easily nail this.  And easily nail it he did.

Perception is everything.

Dunolly Horse Trials 2014

Dunolly is a small town in the middle of the Victorian Gold Fields.  We first heard about it on Macca's (Ian Macnamara) set of CD's in a song "I'm the last man from Dunolly" about a soldier returning from the war - the only soldier from the Dunolly area to be returning.  When I noticed the Dunolly Horse Trials on the eventing calendar, we didn't need any further prodding to make the 4 hour trip.

My husband, my daughter and I arrive on late Friday afternoon, and setup camp.  By the time I get the stove out, its dark, and my husband makes some noises that sound like "pub" and "beer".  We eat our camp meal, and then drive into Dunolly.  On the way, we listen to "the song" that brought us here, then spend a somber moment at the war memorial.

We waltz merrily into the cheerful pub, and strip off our winter woolies as the warmth of the open fire hits us.  We sit at the bar drinking our beer and fairy drinks; we glance around at the locals.  There are three people next to me, and one of them pulls out a gold nugget about the size of a 50c coin.  He shares its story with his friends while we stare shamelessly.  He found it on his property with a metal detector.  Had to dig for it.  But he thinks there's more further down.  His eyes sparkle with a strange kind of excitement ... gold fever.

Our shameless staring is hard to ignore, and he eventually turns to us and lets us hold the nugget.  My daughter is spellbound as history unrolls itself right in front of her eyes.  We pulled her out of school early today to come here - I think it's just paid dividends.

The freezing night air hits us as we leave the pub.  The sleeping bags in our tent are nice and warm, and we get a good night's sleep.

The morning is overcast but mild, and I have a thousand chores to do around the horses, as well as plaiting up and getting them ready for dressage.  My husband and daughter can afford to take it a bit more easy, and they pedal off on their bicycles to Dunolly.

I manage to get the plaiting done just in time, using up the very last bit of the black thread on Lil's mane.  Dingo's warm up goes brilliantly.  He is very relaxed and very happy, and produces a test to match which places him 7th.  Lil on the other hand, is the total opposite.  She is stepping under really well, but she is tense.  She can see the cross country course, and she is far too excited to be paying attention.  Nevertheless, the dressage is not bad and she ends up 14th.

We walk the cross country course - this is a newly built cross country course, with this competition being the official cross country course opening weekend.  The course is beautiful - and I have added a full review of it to my cross country review series.  All I will say is that I expect jump 10 - a trakener with water in the ditch - to be the show stopper.  It certainly has me shaking in my boots every time I think about it.

We do another trip to the pub, and then attend the dinner hosted by the Dunolly Horse Activity Club.  The food is fabulous, the atmosphere is warm, and the people are lovely.

There is a bit of wind during the night.  It makes funny sounds, and wakes me up.  Every time I wake up I go over the cross country course in my mind, getting a serious adrenaline rush at number 10.  It's amazing that I go back to sleep.

In the morning, my husband is off to Ballarat for a bike ride with his mates.  And then the comedy of errors begins.  I get both horses ready, and ride off on Dingo into the Cross Country warm-up.  I realise that I still have my dressage reins on Dingo's bridle - oh well, too late to change now.  I am barely in trot, when I see a wild bay horse galloping loose up the home straight.  I gaze at my float - Lil is no longer tied up.  Ooops.  I ride up to the edge of the bunting, and call out to her.  The galloping horse comes to a standstill opposite Dingo.  My daughter walks up, but she is not old enough to handle Lil - let alone an excited Lil.  So we wait for an adult to walk up and ask for assistance.  The lady assures me she will find a secure yard for Lil.

Dingo's warm up goes extremely well.  He is light in the hand, and responsive to the bit.  I might just be able to get away with these reins after all.  We start off on Cross Country and everything changes.  The reins immediately run through my fingers, and I lose most of my control.  The ride is so eventful that it deserves a separate post.  We have a run out at jump 2, but otherwise go clear.  The pony doesn't even blink at jump number 10!

Then it's Lil's turn.  We have a very short time to warm-up, which suits me fine.  She knows what she needs to do, she's already had her warm-up gallop (ha ha ha!), and the sooner she gets going, the sooner she can get back to Dingo.  We go clear over the first, and then establish who is going to do what as we approach jump 2.  She gives it a quick second look, and from then on we're very clear.  I'll just sit and ride, and she will gallop and jump.  We get a good rhythm, she works well into the hand, and I just give a bit of encouragement before each jump.  She swallows up the Cross Country course.  I never doubt anything.  The trakener is a piece of cake.  At the water I slow her down to a walk.  She takes a look, then pops in.  Out of the water and we re-establish our rhythm.  I watch the finish gates glide past us and then I punch my fist into the air.  Yes!  Yes!  and YES!!!  What an absolutely fantastic, awesome, unbelievable run!

I jump off and my daughter runs in and shares in the joy.  I smile at her, and share a little home truth.  "Lil's gone clear, but I've just realised that Dingo has been eliminated."  She stares.  "I did the wrong jump on Dingo - I did a grade 3 jump and I didn't even notice at the time.  I've just realised now.  But never mind.  It's just another learning lesson."

Lil knows she's done the required job, and she now just wants to get back to Dingo.  The vet comes over and she throws her head to the side in protest, hitting the vet.  It hurts.  We are asked to walk away, settle the horse, and come back in about 5 to 10 minutes.  I sober up somewhat.  "You know what", I say to my daughter "Lil might also get eliminated."  "Why?", she stares in disbelief.  "Well, she did run out on Cross Country course, she could get eliminated for that, and now she hit the vet so she might get eliminated for bad behaviour."  "Can they do that?", she asks.  I grow serious.  "I presume they can.  Horses should be well behaved."  The next time the vet approaches we make sure that Lil is on her best behaviour.  This time we pass.

I change Dingo's reins and warm him up for showjumping.  From the first jump I know that something is wrong.  The pony is travelling in a totally different way than normal, and if I was a better, more experienced rider, I would be able to change my riding style to match.  But I don't have that experience, yet.  All I can do is sit and wonder - something is very different.  It's the footing.  The sand in the jumping arena is very deep.  Perhaps too deep.  Dingo doesn't cope.  I manage to ride it out until he sees jump 6 - the double.  It's too much, he stops and I fall off.  He is now double eliminated.  It's kind of funny, but I just hope they allow me to ride Lil.

I warm Lil up.  She is the last to go, and as our round approaches there are less and less horses in the warm-up ring.  Until there are none.  And the cold front - rainless perhaps, but with eerie dark clouds and cold wind - buffets against us.  I manage to hold it all together - just.  We ride into the ring.  Lil also struggles somewhat with the deep footing, but she copes.  However, we can't get a really good flowing rhythm.  As jump number 6 approaches, time seems to come to a standstill.  Six strides to go.  We will do this.  Five.  I apply leg.  Four.  I look at element B.  Three.  I apply leg.  Two.  I look up.  One.  We go through it.  I breathe.  After jump 9, Lil heads for the corner, and I hear a little voice from the sidelines "Forward Mama!  Forward!".  I ride forward, and we do jumps 10, and 11.  Clear!

We look after the horses, then my daughter sits me down in a chair and looks after me.  She gets me food from the food bag, and organises a drink.  No - it's not a beer.  Later we attend the presentations.  Dingo, as expected, is eliminated.  Lil comes 7th and I receive a beautiful pink ribbon.

Then it's time to pack up.  My husband returns from his bike ride an hour later than expected.  The competition also ran about an hour later than expected.  So the light is fading as we finally drive off between the slightly undulating sweeping plains where kangaroos hop without a care in the world.

Choosing Colours

The beauty of Eventing is that for cross country you can choose the colours that you ride in.  Of course you can ride in just a random shirt.  But why ride in any old shirt when you can have a shirt that matches your helmet cover - with a pom pom! - which then matches your saddle blanket, horse boots, headstall and an assortment of rugs?  You can even change that "shirt" for "silks".

Now, at HRCAV competitions we are still bound by our club colours, but once you hit EA, the world is your oyster as far as cross country colours are concerned.

I am not one to get the odd rug here, and the odd headstall there simply because they were on special.  I like all my gear to match, and to follow a consistent theme - for all my horses.  So I've been playing around with colour combinations for years!

When I did the Dream Team last year, we did an exercise where you close your eyes and imagine a situation, and then you identify sounds, smells, feels and colours with these situations.  I could identify sounds and smells, but they didn't seem that important to me.  Colour, on the other hand, was very important.  We went through various situations, and each time I associated a different colour.

Our Dream Team guide and guru strongly suggested that we should include the "right" colours in our riding attire - to calm us, inspire us, and give us our very best results.  Hmmm ... good idea.

I had narrowed down my colour combinations to about three.  Not three colours ... three different colour schemes.  Choosing between those seemed impossible.  Scheme one included light blue, navy and cream, and made me feel calm, peaceful and harmonious.  Scheme two included browns and beiges and a bit of black, was elegant and looked well on the horses.  Scheme three included navy, red and gold and left me motivated, inspired and full of life.

I gazed at the colours forever.  Why couldn't I have all three schemes, and dig them out when I felt like it?  I kept looking at one scheme, noting how it made me feel, then looking at the next scheme and comparing how my feelings changed.  What did I actually want to feel when I was at a competition?  What did I need at a competition to achieve my best?  I started wondering whether I needed a different colour scheme for home, and a different one for competing?

Sometimes, it's so much easier when the rules are just set down for you, as in Dressage and Showjumping.

In the end, the navy, red and gold scheme won.  At a competition, when you may have had a busy week preparing, an early morning to get there, you need to feel motivated, inspired and full of life!

I've already purchased the headstalls.  Now to slowly acquire a set of rugs.

To Cair or to flock?

Bates and Wintec saddles (and possibly other brands) come with a choice of stuffing - Cair or flock.  Flock is the traditional stuffing that looks a bit like cotton wool.  Cair are air panels.

Riding on air sounds kind of cool, and it sounds like it would be good and comfortable for the horse too.  However, when Gally didn't seem too happy to be saddled, I got researching (as you do) about the Cair panels.  I found a few private ads selling the saddles with Cair, accompanied by a statement that the horse appears to not like the Cair, and goes much better in a flock saddle.  I also found the topic discussed in some equestrian forums.  But at the end of the day, there was little more to go by than the "my horse goes better in a flock saddle".

Since I suspected that some of my issues with Gally were due to Cair, when buying Sabina a saddle I was adamant that it had to be flock.  Once the saddle fitter was out, we had a solid chat about the two types of stuffing.  And here is the low down.

Cair tends to suit the narrower horses, preferably with a high wither.  It sits well on their backs, moulds to their shape, and prevents pressure points.

When you get a horse with a wider back, and a lower wither, the Cair tends to roll around a bit.  Which means that as the rider's weight shifts, the saddle rolls over the air bubble that is Cair.  With the wider horses, this can be a fair bit of roll, simply because of their shape.  Now, some horses won't mind this, just like they won't mind a fly.  But other horses ... well it will just freak them out.  Yep ... that sounds like Gally (who incidentally, detested flies).

After this conversation with the saddle fitter, I have basically made up my mind that flock, in general, is better.  Obviously, for the time being I am stuck with Cair.  I will give it a solid go with Lil, as she has "the prefect back for it" apparently.  However, I will be keen to compare it with a flock saddle if I get the chance.  And in the long run, I am intending to replace our Cair saddles with flock ones.

So maybe, the title of this post should have been "Back to the flock"?

Show Pony

Different horses have different characters. I love finding out each horse's character and what they are all about.

Today the farrier was coming to put some shoes on Dingo. It was a cold and windy, and potentially rainy, day. When I brought Dingo in he was shivering. I went to the back of the shed, and started pulling out old horse blankets. I found a couple of rugs that Tosca used to wear when she was a yearling, or a 2 year old. They fitted Dingo like a glove.

I put the doona on him, and I had never seen a happier pony in my life. Now some horses love wearing rugs, and others hate it. Tosca and Gally hated rugs. They would rather be on the cold side, with just their fur, than run the risk of sweating under a rug. But Dingo, is a typical show pony. He would easily be happy with a cotton rug, cotton hood, and a couple of doonas on top.

The Carrot Stick

I've bought myself an official Pat Parelli Carrot Stick. (Yes, it is orange.)

I'm not a big fan of buying specifically endorsed training aids because, usually, they are over-advertised, and over-priced.

However, I have been watching Wrangler Jayne's videos (which are fantastic, thank you Jayne), and I now understand how to use the carrot stick to train the horse, and that an ordinary dressage or lounging whip just doesn't cut the mustard.

Teething problems

So, how did The Flummery perform?

Well, not bad. But, now I am totally confused whether to drive with vent open or closed? Do I leave the rug on my horse or take it off? Oh the dicisions.

Then it turns out the The Flummery is longer than the old blue float that always was, and shall remain, nameless. By about 80cm! That's a lot. It still fits in the shed, but now it's tight!

The driving experience is good. Very smooth. Especially with a horse on. But oh the fuel economy! Or lack there of!

And it turns out we need a slightly different tow bar attachment to raise the float level. Hopefully that will fix our bump problem, and some of our fuel economy.

I have to repeatedly remind myself that now we don't need to do body building to lift up the tail gate, that we have a back door, and that you don't need to know special touch points to close the front door.

I am so not good at moving up in the world.

Cross country training

Time to test The Flummery.

I lead Crownie up to the float. She takes a look around. "That doesn't smell like a horse float" she seems to say. She gets on. Ploomps. "Now it does".

We're off to the local pony club to do some cross country training.

I do a solid jumping warm up in the arena, then we head out to inspect the jumps. It's very wet and boggy. The approaches to some jumps are totally waterlogged. I don't feel confident at all about the normal warm up jumps, so I take a good look around and find some nicer ones.

This pays huge dividends as I feel relaxed and confident, and as a result, so does the horse. We can do a nice canter on approach and the jumping goes well. I get a good feel about the sort of jumps she finds easy, and the ones she questions. There is the odd jump where she stops then scrambles over it. This is obviously something we need to work on, in the future.

Today we cover off the necessary basics: ditch, drop, bank, water, log, tyres, and artificial drums of an odd colour.

The Flummery

Over the last couple of weeks I have made frequent phone calls to the float makers, to check on the progression of my new float. Every time I would ring them up, my introduction would be followed by a short pause, and then "Oh yes, of course, the flummery!". Apparently the colour was "intense".

Today, the time comes to pick up "The Flummery". Check it out!

Poles

Sourcing good jumping equipment for home use must be a thankless task for any horse rider. Up until now I have been using old pine posts that have been left over by the previous owners of our property. They are all sorts of sizes and weights, mostly very heavy. They are untreated, and after two or three years in the paddock, they are beginning to split and crumble.

About a month ago, I finally purchased some treated pine poles. Nice straight ones. Three metres long, and 10cm in diameter. And since then I've been slowly making headway in painting them. First undercoat. Then two coats of white paint. Today, the final touch, the red stripes go on.

Float shopping

Today I forgo my horse ride. The time has come to buy a new float.

The float I currently use actually belongs to my girlfriend. She doesn't exactly need it much right now, and I am happy to maintain it, so it's a very happy state of affairs. But the float has seen many years of good service with us alone, we've had a good run, and it is now time to upgrade.

I have been doing much research regarding floats over the last two years, so today, when I roll into Rowville Floats, I am ready to make a purchase.

The lady at Rowville takes me through the factory floor, showing me various models and options. I marvel at the thought that's gone into the floats and their design. In the end I settle for a Traveller model, with a couple of extras. Then I spend copious amounts of time choosing the colour. Just when I think I am done, the lady mentions that I also need to choose the colour for scrolls and pin striping!

So Flummery (think vanilla custard) with Charcoal scrolls it is. For now. Until Sabina convinces me that Dusty Pink would look great with a red car!

Listen to my questions

Having asked Clancy all these questions, Clancy asked me "Have you asked Anna these questions?"

Well, yes. When I started asking Anna these sort of questions she said "You just need to get on with it", and considered the topic closed.

Was I happy with that response? No. Maybe I should have pursued the topic further with Anna, but I find that this seems to be a bit of a generic problem with dressage instructors. It's like they are there to teach you dressage, and dressage is defined as riding the horse correctly. But the truth is, you cannot ride a horse correctly if that horse doesn't respect you. You need to be the boss on the ground first, before you can be the boss in the saddle.

If you're not the boss on the ground, then sooner or later something will start going wrong in the saddle as the horse challenges your authority. Some horses stop, others charge off, some buck, some shake their heads. The instructor sees the problems during riding, and just starts piling on the gear. Nose band, martingale, etc. This doesn't solve the problem. It's a band aid solution.

The instructor needs to listen to the rider's questions. And if I am trotting a 20 metre circle, and my horse is shaking his head, and I ask "why does he try to bite me when I saddle him up?", then chances are that if I can stop him biting during saddling, the head shaking in the trot will just magically go away.

It's to do with Chi, the life force, but more about that another time.

When you go to war

Another thing I asked Clancy last week was "Sometimes he goes well without spurs. Should I always be wearing spurs, and carrying a whip?"

Clancy gazed at me in response, then said "Apparently Franz Mairinger once said, when you go to war, take all your necessary equipment with you."

There's not much point in leaving your dressage whip at A, and running into a problem at C, thinking "my whip would be really handy right now". You need to learn to ride selectively - use your calf when you need to, use the spur when you need to, and use the whip when you need to. And don't let your spur or your whip interfere when you're using your calf.

Needless to say, I mount up with spurs and whip today. I use my spurs a fair bit, and my whip only twice. But I am really glad both are there when I need them.

Saddle fitting

It's an awful day. Wind blowing at 200km an hour (according to my mum). Rain and hail pelting down in long showers. But I have waited two weeks for the saddle fitter to come out, and I am not about to cancel.

Instead, I drive the trailer out of the shed, move some barrels, and setup some hay nets with hay. The stage is ready for fitting Gally with a saddle.

The lady from Horseland arrives, car loaded with saddles. We bring in Crownie, for companionship, and Gally for fitting. He gazes angrily at the saddle, which caused him discomfort, and gives us his opinion with his back leg. Liddy gives him a knowledgeable firm pat on the backside for every cow kick he does. He calms down.

Liddy measures him up, and yes I do need a wider gullet. The gullet is changed, the saddle goes on, the girth is done up. (Note, no saddle blanket.) Liddy is happy with the way the fit "looks", but she thoroughly examines how the saddle lies along his back. Then she finds a couple of sore spots along the back, just where the saddle finishes. She takes a step back and assess him. "I think you need a bit more padding here", she points to the back part of the saddle. "He has a high back, and I think the saddle finishes too sharply for him. I think it needs to be more rounded, and taper up more gently." She takes the saddle off, and busies herself with adding padding.

The penny drops. This saddle wasn't just hurting Gally. It was also hurting Princess. Possibly Crownie as well. It's just that Princess complains about everything, so you just learn to ignore her. Whereas, Crownie doesn't complain about anything, so you never know. But Gally was able to articulate it quite clearly, for a horse.

With added padding, the saddle goes back on. Liddy is happy with the fit, "I want you to sit on him". Bridle on the horse, helmet on me, I mount up. Gally tenses, as he anticipates an uncomfortable moment. I sit in the saddle. Sigh of relief ... first from Gally, then from me. And, in addition, the saddle now feels a lot more like a dressage saddle.

The saddle fitter is pleased. "Go for a walk on him", she encourages. Despite the howling wind, the bending trees, and flapping bits and pieces we ride out in front of the shed. Gally steps under with increadible freedom. This feels fantastic! What a difference!

When I jump off, I am ready to give Liddy a hug. As we discuss how much I owe, I decide that this is the best money I have ever spent.

From now on, I will be much more thorough in checking my horse's back for sore spots, and it wouldn't surprise me if the saddle fitter will be visiting us on average once per year.

I feel better

Ok, I feel better now. And I'm still going to pursue my dream of flawlessly galloping across country over scary obstacles.

Yesterday, I really was ready to give up. But, I know it's useless. I've been there before. Trying to give up the horse dream. And it just doesn't work. I mean ... if I'm not going to ride, then I may as well not live. So back into it. As someone once said "There's no failure, only feedback." Gally's sore back was my feedback. I know that I'm not sitting right. There are saddles that force you to sit correctly. Gally's previous owners' saddle made you do that. In fact, I liked their saddle so much I almost bought the saddle, not the horse.

So if I am not dilligent enough to sit correctly in my current saddle, then I should get myself a saddle which forces me to sit correctly. Or ride bareback. I have always found that I rode much better bareback, or without stirrups. I've had coaches who would force me to jump without stirrups for that exact reason.

The core of the problem

I haven't resolved the problem, but I keep working my horse.

I know that I don't have the most stable hands, so I glue them to the saddle blanket, and let Gally wander around the round yard. I ask for trot, the ears go back. Obviously, hands are not the problem.

Since he seems comfortable enough in the walk, I take him on a tour of the haying paddock. He tries really hard as we walk up the hill, and stays totally calm as we take in the awesome view from the top gate.

When we are finished I unsaddle him at the hitching rail as normal. And just out of curiosity, I run my hand along his back on the left side. All good. I do same on the right. Ouch! The ears dart back, the back dips. There's my problem.

I think about how the horse felt before I bought him. There could have been a mild stiffness there, but he wasn't sore. Not like this. This is a problem I created. Great!

I write myself off as a hopeless rider and trainer. I don't know why I'm still bothering. All my dreams fall in a heap at my feet. I am ready to give up and throw in the towel. But wait. Wait. If I am sitting wrong, then that saddle is "allowing" me to sit wrong. And maybe that saddle doesn't fit as well as I initially thought? But if I was a really good rider, I could ride well in any saddle. So, I am just hopeless at this, and should give up now before I do more damage.

Wandin preparations

I do some serious dressage with Princess this morning and it goes really well. My seat to pommel and chest out is now starting to take up natural form and doesn't feel like a cramping yoga pose any more.

Preparing the horse for the event is the number one thing, but in reality many other preparations also go on in the background.

There is a whole spreadsheet covering training schedule, list of local events leading up to the big event, list of gear, it goes on. Don't get me started.

Today I casually wander into Horseland. They know me by name. Is it obvious whether I am just looking today, or whether I am here to spend serious money? Probably. The assisstant is at my side in seconds. Not that I mind, because all of the assisstants here are absolutely delightful.

I investigate top boots. This involves putting on a pair of jodhpurs, and boots and sitting in a saddle, on a saddle stand. Another client is testing out a saddle next to me. "I'll race you", I call out to him. "I think you'd win", he comments after a long glance at the cream joddies with shining black boots. "Hey, it's not the gear, it's the quality of horse", I retort. We laugh. I decide to take the jodhpurs and leave the boots. For today.

Onto cross country safety vests. I almost faint when I see the price, but I try one on anyway. Just for size and feel. It feels like I'm sitting in a cardboard box, with my arms, neck and legs sticking out. I wonder how in the world I can ride a horse in this contraption. The assistant reassures me that you "get used to it". Sure. At the very least I do feel pretty bomb proof. We play around with the fastenings and the sizing. I spend about 15 minutes in it, and I actually do get used to it. I probably need a size smaller though.

Then I pick up some gloves, some worming paste, and, of course, horse stickers for Sabina.