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.

Saddle fitting

I have said it before (see here), and I will say it again - money spent on a professional saddle fitting is the best money you will ever spend on your horse.

Firstly, the time had come to buy Sabina a saddle for Bel Bel.  I had been using my old 17 inch Bates Olympia, and while there is nothing wrong with this saddle; it was 1) too narrow for Bel Bel, and 2) too long for her back!  In addition to that, 6 year old Sabina was swimming in it.  Fine while you're walking, but anything beyond that and you're not doing your child's riding development any good.  Having conferred with other mothers at Pony Club, I went in search of a 15 inch saddle.

Sure enough, our local Horseland store had just the saddle in stock.  (Wintec All Purpose 250 (flock).)  Sabina sat in it in the store.  Then she sat in a 16 inch saddle.  Both the sales lady and I very quickly came to the conclusion that the 15 inch really is the right size for now.  So we arranged for the saddle fitter to come out, to make sure that the saddle fits the pony as well as the rider.

Well the saddle fitter sized up the pony, and changed the gullet.  Then he showed me exactly where the saddle sits well, and where it doesn't.  He explained how the saddle should sit no further than the horse's last rib.  Then he added some more stuffing, and an attachment point for a crupper - should we need one.  Finally, he showed me how, after all the adjustments, the saddle fits very well. 

Then we moved onto Lilly.  Initially I had ridden her in my Bates Caprilli All Purpose (with Cair), which had been fitted to Gally.  Then a friend lent me her Bates Maestro (dressage saddle, with Cair).  This had the medium gullet, and Lilly definitely preferred this saddle.

Enter saddle fitter.  Well, for starters - definitely medium gullet for Lil.  So the saddle fitter pulled out the blue (Gally's) gullet, and put the black one back in.  Then he had a look at the adjustment pads.  These were in totally the wrong place!  We suspect that while the saddle was being used on Gally, they were in the right place, but once the saddle was used on other horses (Lil, Dingo) they may have moved.  So he pulled out the pads, and put some new ones in.  We put the saddle back on Lil - the fit looked just perfect.

Lil's verdict - well when I used to do the girth up, she used to put her ears back and lash out with teeth.  She would never bite me, because she is just too nice, but she wasn't happy.  Now, she just sniffs my elbow if she notices that I am doing the girth up.  Sometimes, she doesn't notice, and she just stares off into space with a goofey look.

So, one question remains (two actually).  I have been riding Lil for about 8 months now.  Why didn't I have a saddle fitting done earlier?  Because I was too scared to part with that X amount of dollars!!!

What's the other question?  Cair or flock?  See my next post.

WEC Dressage Day

So, the Warragul Show wasn't enough for me - today I headed off to the Warragul Equestrian Centre (WEC) Dressage Day.

Honestly, I discussed it with my husband - the horse is already washed and plaited, the float attached, the car packed.  Surely it will be half the effort.  At least to get away.  And indeed, I was correct.  As an added bonus a friend from adult riding club offered to come along as a strapper.  I even had adult company.  (Sabina stayed at home).

We arrived at WEC nice and early.  I warmed Dingo up, then came back to the float for a coffee.  Except that, no one was serving coffee.  I had brought hot water, but not coffee.  This is a mistake I will not make again in a hurry.  Our lack of coffee, and desire for, became the running joke of the day.

Coffeeless, we headed for the dressage rings.  My test was at 9:28am, but it looked like the dressage judge was running late.  We waited, and chatted, and waited.  Finally I rode up to the judge's car - "oh, you were supposed to be on at 9:28, in the other ring".  Oh!  Oh no!  Oh dear!

Luckily, the other ring was still running the test, and I was allowed to go out of order.  So all good there.  My only hesitation was that I had been running over test Prep 3 in my head, and now I was required to do test Prelim 2.  I knew the test, but it just wasn't fresh in my mind.  So feeling slightly nervous I proceeded to ride into the arena.

The arenas were fenced with grey ropes, and at the entrance Dingo stopped dead.  So much for the "enter at trot".   I coaxed him through, but in his mind the ropes were electric and they were going to eat him.  So best to stear well clear of them and watch them the entire time.  There go my corners, straightness, and calmness.  Other than that, the test went well.  (To those not familiar with dressage tests, corners, straightness and calmness pretty much form the foundation of these tests.  Accuracy is the only other thing left.  We had that.  Most of the time.)

But we had a brilliant dressage judge.  As I did my last halt, she got out of the car and approached me.  Now, generally, this is the most humiliating thing that can happen.  It means that you have just totally stuffed up.  However, she very calmly said to me "He appears to be very freaked out by these ropes.  If you ride out of the arena now, it will just teach him all the wrong things.  Please stay in here for a few minutes, and just ride him around on a loose rein, so he can relax."  Allelujah!

Due to my misunderstanding about the test order, it was out of one arena, and pretty much straight into the next.  Dingo was still worried about the ropes, but much less so and it was a more relaxed test.  Straightness and corners were still pretty much missing.  However, that's not the purpose of the exercise.  The purpose of the exercise was to gain experience, and identify holes in my training.  (Training?  What training?  A mere 3 weeks ago I could barely trot a circle.  I'd push it to two trot circles, then I'd be totally out of breath, and needed to rest my muscles.  Canter was a forgotten gait altogether).

At the end of it all, we all got our coffee (hay and water for Dingo) and we were still home (more or less) by lunchtime.

I would really like to thank my friend from adult riding.  It was such a pleasure to have her along, we had a few laughs and best of all, I've ended up with some fantastic photos!

(I find that when you go eventing, you can sing out "hello" to the people in the float next to you, and they will generally respond in a friendly manner.  Do the same at a show, or a dressage competition, and you're lucky if the person cocks an ear.  This sort of attitude can be very unsettling for the inexperienced competitor.  So having your own team along, can really boost your confidence.)

Show prep

Sometimes I think that I've got it all. Horses, float and a daughter to enjoy it all with. Shows, bush riding, pony club. But the reality is closer to this.

Today I spent the entire day getting ready to go. Packing clothes, esky and the beloved guinea pigs. By the time I pick up my daughter from school the car is ready to go. Well she (my daughter) isn't. Sheesh. Gently, I encourage her to stop playing, get changed, eat her snack, and we're finally on the road with her still asking why we have to go now.

Then, of course, we get peak hour traffic, and the 1 hour trip takes us 1.5 hours. Charming. We eat dinner - no complaints here. Then we're outside getting our ponies. "Now, Sabina, it's simple", I say. "We tie them up to the hitching rail, we wash them, we rug them, we put them away."

Do you think she follows instructions? NO! Off she goes with her pony to graze on the grass. That upsets Dingo, and the minute I turn my back he breaks free and runs over to Tornado. Now the big horses have come over to the fence to investigate. Great. Do you think I can catch Dingo? No, of course not. Off he goes, trotting up to Princess Lil.

I gaze at the front gate. "Sabina, just stay here, I really don't want him galloping out the gate". As if on cue, Princess Lil takes off towards the gate. Dingo follows on the other side of the fence ... and yes, he gallops out the gate and onto the road. Lovely. Half way up the paddock, Princess Lil changes her mind and gallops back. Dingo, lead rope dangling, gallops back at full speed. I quietly close the gate behind him, praying that he doesn't somehow catch on the lead rope and break his neck.

As I wander back to the hitching rail, I see the two ponies trotting off towards the house, and I hear Sabina crying. My first thought is that she's been run over by Dingo, but of course she's just upset that Tornado pulled away. So I decide that we need a break and I invite her to sit down in the shed. Well, she refuses to sit down because there are a couple of cob webs on the chair! Am I at the end of my tether by now or what? I stay calm. I don't feel calm. I take a few deep breaths and stay calm. By now of course, the sun is starting to set.

So, we go and get our ponies, again. This time, we successfully tie them up to the hitching rail, and at least I manage to wash mine. But Sabina is still off in la la land, doing everything, but washing. "Mama, can you wash him?", she asks. In the interest of time "yes". So we've got two washed ponies, standing in mud, it's dark outside and we need to put rugs on.
 
Luckily the float is out, so we can rug the ponies in the shed. But in the process, Dingo steps on my foot. Ouch! Anyway, finally we're done. "Mama, it's dark outside, I'm scared". "Well that's why we needed to get on with it." "Mama, I didn't realise it would get dark." Like it doesn't get dark every day? So there I am walking back to the paddock in pitch blackness, scared daughter in one hand, two scared ponies in the other.
 
With no further incidents, the ponies are back in their paddock, and Sabina is in the bath. Husband has managed to arrive too. Thank goodness for that, because I need his help to unpack the cupboards off the float. On the upside, he helps to pack the car for tomorrow.
 
By about 11pm I hit the pillow, only to realise that I have a pretty massive toothache. Not massive enough to get the panadol, though. After some time, I fall asleep.

All plaited up and nowhere to go

Yesterday, we spent all afternoon washing and plaiting our ponies. Sabina - Tornado; me - Dingo. Sabina didn't have much to plait as minatures are shown "natural". But I was busy plaiting Dingo and doing rosettes. It took me ages, as I lack experience - especially with needle and thread. Not to mention there is a real art in getting the width of the plaits right. I got them too wide ... this time.

Just as I completed the last rosette, I got an sms from a friend that the Lang Lang Show has been cancelled. I ran home and double checked on my own computer. Yep - cancelled due to rain. Well, I don't blame them. It has rained a lot, and Lang Lang is in a low lying flood-type plain. I am the last one that wants to rock up with car and trailer only to get bogged.

Still, that leaves us all plaited up this lovely morning, with nowhere to go.

But I can't really complain. The practice run has been fabulous.

'Twas the day before the show ...

Our local horse show is on tomorrow, and we're going.

No, not Gally and I. Sabina and Tornado. Yes, off to the show to have a go at competing and seeing what it's all about.

So we bring Tornado in, and out comes the hose. Sabina does a great job in getting the pony wet. We only suffer a passing shower.

Then it's onto shampoo and sponge as she takles the body, while I scrub the mane and tail.

She leaves the hosing off to me. Then we squeegee him, dry off with towel, and wrap him in rugs.

Tomorrow

Gally and I are off to Wandin tomorrow, to compete in Wandin ODE, Training Level 5. We're no way ready for an ODE, having jumped a total of about two cross rails at home. So, I am treating this outing as a clinic on steroids.

Wandin ODE being an EA (previously EFA) event, different rules apply to Adult Riding, and today I do a mad rush to Horseland in a bid to ensure I understand the rules and have all the necessary bits and pieces. By the time I walk out of the shop, the only thing I am still missing is an XC safety vest. I am assured that it's optional at my level.

As I head to bed, my sleep is marred by my mind going through all the worst case scenarios.

The shoe fits

I check on the horses in the evening. Gally's shoe is back on, shining in the torchlight like a diamond. We're all set. My world is at peace.

Dear farrier ...

I check on the horses, and find that Gally is missing a shoe. This needs to be fixed before Saturday, if we are going to make it to Wandin. I get on the phone, and in my lovliest voice leave a pleading message for the farrier, explaining my predicament.

I get on the keyboard of my mobile phone, and sms through another message to said farrier. Using lovely words, of course.

The night before Wandin

I groom Princess till she's shining bright. I trim her mane till she looks like a seasoned eventer. I wash her tail till it's silky smooth. I put the horses in the Red Rum paddock and give them a feed.

I pack the car, ticking every little item off my list. Sabina and I have a disagreement about the blue lunging whip. She's convinced she needs to go fishing with it tomorrow.

I set 2 different alarm clocks. Just in case. And I apply my meditation lessons and calm myself down. It works. Amazingly well.

Tomorrow starts the end of the first step in the journey.

Feeling the fear

Tomorrow I am having a cross country lesson with Will Enzinger. And I feel the fear. But fear of what?

For goodness' sakes. Pull yourself together girl. I mean, Will is a great guy and a supportive teacher. So it can't be fear of Will.

Fear of a cross country lesson? I've had heaps of cross country lessons before and I have never ever had a BAD cross country lesson. I've had BAD showjumping lessons, but not XC.

Fear of Wandin? Wandin is known for its undulating countryside. But this is just a lesson. If you get out of control, you just circle until you get control back again. Too easy.

Fear of the early morning, the journey down a little known road with burning off going on either side? Get a grip. As long as the horse gets on the float I will be fine.

So, fear of what? Fear of actually realising my dreams? Yes.

This is the first step to a one day event. This is my dream. It stands in front of me now, within reach. And the easiest thing is to form an excuse and take a step back. The hardest thing is to step forward and live it.

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.

Heading for Wandin

Recently I grabbed whereis.com plus a list of HRCAV events, and started checking which events are closest to the farm. Wandin came up, being a mere 60 something minutes away. That will be 1h 20mins with horse. The event is the TTT Horse Trials on May 30 and 31st. Bingo. I started preparations to do Grade 4.

Being a TTT event, there are all sorts of associated rules with it. One is to either show evidence of three horse trials within 12 months at the required level, or to get level assessed. The level assessor comes out today and I show her my best moves in dressage, showjumping and cross country. Sabina runs around the paddock after me with a handful of mandarin pieces. At the end, the assessor looks at the beautiful undulating paddock I school in and says "Please canter up the hill, and then canter back down". Gulp. I do as told, and to my amazement, the horse doesn't just go for a mad downhill dash. "Now walk". That's tougher, but we get there.

The assessor signs off my cards and I'm ready to enter the event.

Packing for Tonimbuk

We gather up the dinner dishes, and I tell my husband that I am off to feed the horses and pack for tomorrow. He nods with indifference, and returns to bath preparations with our daughter. To him it's just another night. To me, this is the night before the day of reckoning.

Up till now, I have trotted my horse six times over a cross rail, and tomorrow we will do a jumping lesson, followed by two rounds of freshman's showjumping: 45cm high, and 60cm high. Am I mad? Is my horse ready for this? Am I ready for this? Do I really know what I am doing? Every wise horseperson I have listened to, every book I have read, tells me that what I am doing is right. But I have a sinking feeling of despair, a loss of faith, a feeling that I am standing at the gates of doom.

I focus all this energy into packing, as though I was preparing for the end of the world. Bridle, spare bridle. Extra spare reins. Girth, spare girth. Morning feed, lunchtime feed. Hay, hay and more hay. Magnesium orotate, hydrogen peroxide. With a suspicious calmness all items take a logical place in the car, and I feel I have everything. I am not "ready". I am just "prepared". Prepared to face the demons I have created.

Grid work preparation

Today's activity is dressage, and grid work. In my mind I am thinking: place pole, bounce, bounce, one stride, then bounce. In reality I look at the bare paddock. There are heaps of poles on the property, but they are the length of fully grown pine trees, and it took two men to move these out of the paddock. I look around, and hey presto there are some treated pine posts lying on the ground; the perfect lenght for jumping poles, just not painted. I look up to the sky, and nod a thank you. Then I proceed to move some poles into the paddock. By the end of the process I have 4 trot poles on the ground, and two 44 gallon drums on either side so I can make a cross rail. This is a far cry from what I had imagined, but it means that today's session can get classified as grid work.

The Dressage Arena

I don't have access to a dressage arena. So a piece of nearly flat paddock is a good substitute in the meantime. The paddock itself is about 5 acres (1 hectare), with a hill at one end. This is actually great for training - when your horse gets a bit bored you can go for a nice trot or canter up the hill. At the top of the hill there is a flat area, about the size of an arena. So, in a way, I have two arenas.

It has been raining heaps, and the paddock (or should that be, "the two arenas"?) is pretty wet.