Westcoast ARC Horse Trials 2016

Dingo's last competition was two years ago when I got eliminated on him during the Dunolly Horse Trails cross country for jumping a grade 3 jump.  Then I got eliminated again in the showjumping when I fell off before the double.  At the time, I decided it wasn't really working and relegated Dingo to trail riding duties.

However, a sequence of events - Lil getting stringhalt, Echo getting an abscess - put Dingo back in work, and back on the critical path for another crack at horse trials.  So we ended up in Elcho Park, warming up for the dressage phase of the Westcoast ARC Horse Trials.

The judge was running late, and the dressage went to pieces.  Dingo was overbent, flicking his tongue over the bit, and freaking out at the weeds surrounding the arena.  Really Dingo?

Since the dressage judge was running late, we were running late for our showjumping round.  Already coming back from gear check Dingo felt tired.  He jumped well in the warm-up - very well in fact.  The warm-up was on grass with a sandy soil base.  The competition ring was sand.  The minute he put hoof in that sand arena, things didn't feel right - he felt out of control.  I put on the breaks.  We got two refusals at jump one, clear over two, then a refusal at jump three and that was the end of our round.

I left the showjumping ring gutted, and did a few more warm-up jumps to mull it over.  He jumped very well.  Damn that sand.

I gave Dingo a well earned rest and some lunch, and I mulled over the situation some more.  Technically I was eliminated, but could still ride the cross country if I wanted to.  Did I want to?  Should I?  My reflection process was long and boring, but in the end I decided to ride cross country.

After a quick warm-up (which was on sand, and Dingo jumped the warm-up jumps well), we were in the start box, and the starter was saying: "3, 2, 1, go!  Good luck!".  And Dingo responded "Yeah Mummy ... Good luck in trying to hold me back!  Ha ha ha!".  And I gritted my teeth with "Yeah Dingo ... Good luck in trying to get away from me!".  And we were off.  Dingo was off.  Holding him back was tricky ... almost impossible.

Jump three was out of control and we were barrelling through the middle of the course when I caught sight of jump four on my left.  We doubled back.  I had to almost stop him to do that switch back to four.  But I did it the right way - I kept his head up.  I didn't let his chin go to his chest.  Over four, and then we got this amazing bouncy canter - forward, yet on his hocks.  I felt I could jump over the moon from that canter.  And from then on, all the other jumps became mere obstacles.  It was no longer a question of whether he will jump them, it was only a question how fast I will allow him to jump, and how elegant I can make it look.  There was no longer a question of control, there was only a question of using my reins and my heels to communicate with him.  It was amazing.  I have never ridden this pony so fast over cross country and yet felt so much in control, felt so sure he would jump everything, felt so in awe of how much power was propelling him forward.  I could now see that this pony easily had more scope.  It was incredible.

In the end, the result - me being eliminated - was immaterial.  I was the real winner.  That cross country ride just changed the way I jump - for ever.  That cross country ride made me realise that the next rung of my horse riding journey was within reach.  That cross country ride was like a thousand clinics rolled into one.

I jumped off my tired pony - and I have never ever seen Dingo that tired - and jumped up and down with joy!

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.

Wandin delivers

Two horses on the float, daughter still in her PJ's smiling through her sleep in the back seat, pitch black outside and we're off to Wandin ODE.  We arrive without dramas, park, unload and register.

I get all dressed up in my jacket, then Dingo and I ride down to the dressage warm-up.  Dingo's dressage is in Big Wandin.  The warm-up goes well and probably my biggest issue is that he feels about ready after 10 minutes, yet we have another 30, especially since the tests are running late.  I am a bit stuck at what to do.  How do I ensure I don't "ruin" what we have.  This is not helped by one rider, who always seems to be riding straight into us.  Funny that we don't have that problem with the 10 other riders in the warm-up.

Our turn finally comes, and when the judge toots the horn she is in the shade and I can't see her wave.  So I am not sure.  Was that my judge?  Or was it not?  I look at the other arenas and by process of elimination decide that it was my judge.  I ride in, still not quite sure whether I am about to get eliminated because I didn't ride into the arena on time, or because I rode into the arena uninvited.

I do my first halt and realise that the whole judge and horn issue has taken up so much of my mind, that I have forgotten the test.  I quickly remember it, but any softness we may have had just vanishes as I tense in a sudden panic.  The first half of the test is wasted.  In the second half, I relax again and let it flow a bit more.  By then, Dingo is tired.  Uggh!

I grimace and put it behind me as we walk back towards the float.  Then it's off to walk the cross country course.  I look at it and decide that this just might sort a few horses out.  It's all at the right level, nothing too hard, nothing too easy, a few nice give aways, and some challenges.  Love it!

Then it's back into the dressage ring with Lil.  Her dressage is at the top of the hill, and the sweeping views alone get her eyeballs rolling.  Then there is the odd pram.  I get her in control quick smart - something I wouldn't have been able to do a year or two ago - and the warm-up goes well.

When it comes to our turn I have another stuff up with the judge and horn, but I'm not eliminated.  Then there is the issue of the view.  Ever ytime Lil has to go towards the judge she is as smooth as butter.  Every time she goes away from the judge she starts freaking out and loses all forward.  Double uggh!

So it's another test to move on from as we quickly unsaddle Lil and get Dingo ready for cross country.  As we approach the course I become acutely aware that I am quite hungry and very thirsty.  I've only had an apple since breakfast in the car.  Must remedy this after cross country.

The warm up goes well, and I get some really lovely jumps from Dingo.  But the minute we start, he takes off like a mad thing, not listening and paying attention.  And so when we get to jump two, the picket fence with all the colourful flowers in front of it, Dingo gets the shock of his life.  Refusal one.  We get over it, and have a few more arguments along the way.  Another refusal at the table top, and one more at the double.  Not our best performance.

I rush back, and get Lil.  In the process I manage to scoff down a banana and drink some water.  We only have 10 minutes to warm up, but it's enough.  She also takes off a bit like a mad thing, but when I slow her down before the picket fence she starts paying attention.  She doesn't really like the flowers, but is happy enough to put in a leap when asked.  We're smoothly through next few, and then the eye glasses give her the fright of her life - she seriously thinks she's about to jump over the head of a tiger or dragon!  We get a refusal at the double, but otherwise she jumps everything, although some of her leaps are so big, she may as well be doing 3*!

Back to the float.  Get Lil unsaddled and comfortable.  I give up on "the look", and stay in my cross country vest.  Taking it off would mean taking off my helmet, putting the vest away, getting the jacket.  I just can't be bothered.

We get Dingo ready for showjumping.  Here we get a bit confused - where is the showjumping?  I am grateful for my little strapper who holds my pony while I enquire about ring location.  We still get there early, and I even have time to walk the course.  Wow.

Now, the showjumping course.  At most other HT competitions the grade four showjumping course is little more than grade five, with a couple of enticing cross rails and only a few jumps set at the maximum 60cm.  And then the next level is Intro, and all of a sudden everything is at 80cm with an 80cm spread.  I mean how are you supposed to do such a massive leap?  Here, I must acknowledge the Wandin grade four showjumping course as being excellent.  Every single jump is at 60cm, with a couple of enticing oxers.  No inviting cross rails.  Just a real course providing a good grade four test for horse and rider.  Wandin - well done to you!

During the warm-up I keep our poor cross country performance in mind, and I keep thinking "light contact, and good drive".  I jump one warm-up jump.  Just one.  It's enough.  My pony is on the ball, and I don't need to stir him up any more.  We ride our round.  Dingo has a bit of a funny corner after jump six, which puts a rail on the ground of element 7A.  Otherwise it's a textbook round.

We go back to the float and this time we actually have enough time to scratch ourselves, as well as unsaddle Dingo, give him a proper brush and a cuddle, and get him all ready for going home.  We get Lil ready, and head back to the showjumping ring.

As we walk towards the ring, Lil is resisting.  I'm starting to think that even at grade four, the showjumping round truly is a test of fitness.  I coax Lil forward and we get to the warm up area.  I coax her through the warm-up.  A lot of walk, then a lot of trot.  When I feel her loosen up, I pop her over the jump.  Just one jump.  She's on the ball.  That's enough.  Then I just keep her warm and ticking over until it's our turn.

We ride into the showjumping arena and Lil's ears prick up.  I talk with the judge, the bell rings, I kick Lil into a trot.  An energy surges up in her that I did not expect.  "You point, and I'll shoot", she seems to say.  I don't need to kick her into canter.  I just point her at jump 1, jump 2, and so on till jump 9.  She is amazing.  She just flies.  She just clears everything in her path.  This is her forte.  She goes clear.  What can I say?  This little horse, with her odd fitness niggles, with her nasty attitude, with her royal airs, has just made my day!

Back at the float we make Lil comfortable and ready to go home.  I smile at my daughter.  She smiles back.  She's been a strapper all day long.  Now her Mummy is back.  She slips her little hand in mine and we go to get an ice cream.  We check out the results.  Dingo is about 18th, but Lil has managed to come 7th!  Wow!  After that awful dressage too.  "Mamma, I think you'll get a ribbon for Lil", says my daughter.  "Nah, I'm pretty sure it's just ribbons to 6th place.  We've missed out", I laugh.

We gaze some more at the results - overall so many cross country faults, so many eliminations, a few rails down in showjumping.  I knew that cross country was going to sort us out.  Wandin delivered a fantastic competition.

This is the first time I've ridden two horses at a horse trials, and it was busy, but I loved it.  I have found the real me.  Now that it's time to go home, the idea of staying for the presentations doesn't even enter my mind.  A pity - because it turns out that Lil just may have won a rosette after all.  Come to think of it, I should probably attend the presentations regardless of my placing.  And that's not the only lesson I walk away with.

My best Cross Country so far (Mornington Peninsula Pony Club Horse Trials)

Dingo safely over jump number 2 in the showjumping.

"An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards.  So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it's going to launch you into something great.  So just focus, and keep aiming."

(As with a lot of Horse Trials, this event was run over two days.  I was competing grade 4 on Dingo, and our Dressage and Showjumping were on Saturday, with Cross Country on Sunday.)

I rock up to the venue alone as my handy little strapper is off at a friend's birthday party.  She will be joining me later, and in addition to Dingo, I also unload Tornado, who immediately gets "oohs" and "ahs" and "isn't he cute" from the adjacent float.

I potter around doing the usual stuff, registration, cleaning the float, tying up the hay for the ponies, getting acquainted with where the rings are, when suddenly it dawns upon me.  I realise just exactly where I am.

My mind flashes back to a bleak day, about 16 years ago, when I had my first competition attempt on my first horse.  Princess.  My friend's Dad floated us and our two horses out here for a hickstead.  My Mum came out to watch - I was kind of hoping she would be my support crew - but when she saw Princess rear at a piece of hay on the ground, a mere 2m from the float, she couldn't bare to watch and she left.  She's never been back.

There are many stories to be told about that day, what with me and band aids and stuff, but the long and short of it was that I never competed.  My horse was out of control, and when I tried to follow my friend over the warm-up jump, Princess and I parted company.  My friend's Dad kindly captured the fall on video, and we have all laughed about it ever since.

Well, today is more sunny than bleak, but the memory opresses me somewhat.  It lingers in my mind, it haunts me.  It's like a mist in the air - you can't quite grab it, you can't disperse it, and yet it's there clouding your view.

I get on with the job at hand, and the Dressage goes reasonably well.  At least we seem to have conquered one thing - Dingo is no longer on three tracks, no longer eying off the white edge of the arena.  We even get some lengthening in the trot.  Woo hoo!

Then my husband arrives with my daughter, and the clouds begin to gather.  No, the weather is just fine.  In fact, the weather is getting more pleasant and summer like by the minute.  The emotional clouds.  Something about me "riding horses too much" comes out.  I bristle up like a terrified echidna, and the sharp discussion just adds to my anxiety.  My husband departs, and I start warming up Dingo for the showjumping.

The showjumping warm-up area is not ideal.  There is a nice warm-up area with jumps, but that's only for the three horses about to do their rounds.  Everyone else ... well, maybe the Dressage warm-up area?  It's not far, but you won't exactly hear your number being called.  I know I need that extra warm-up, so I head two paddocks down.

Then I spot her - my friend who's Dad brought us here so many moons ago.  What a sight she makes.  Striding confidently as ever, big smile on her face, her two gorgeous girls in tow.  We have a laugh about the old times, then I proceed with my warm-up.

When I enter the jumping warm-up area, I don't feel confident.  All is not well.  There is stuff playing in my mind, but I can't quite grasp what's going on, or what I need to do about it.  I tackle the cross rail.  Ok.  I tackle the straight bar and Dingo skids to an amazing stop - he'd get 10 out of 10 if this was a Western Show.  I get catapulted forwards along the neck, and stop just behind his ears.  Perhaps I grab the ears, perhaps I don't, but somehow I stay on and manage to slide back down the neck towards the saddle.  My friend runs out laughing, and holds Dingo while I slip back into the saddle.

The steward looks at me dubiously, and calls out "Are you ready?".  The showjumping ring is ready, the judges are ready - I wonder whether they actually saw the last showjumping round, or whether they were watching the "sliding stop show" next door.  Am I ready?  No way!  "Yep", I say and ride into the ring.  Some things are just meant to happen, and you've got to let God play it his way.

We're over the cross rail, then Dingo stops at number two.  I turn him in a tight circle, which puts him on his hindquarters, and we get over it.  We have another refusal, but other than that go clear, although somewhat out of control.  The crowd - primarily my friend and my daughter - go wild.  "I got a photo of Dingo stopping!", my daughter jumps up and down with excitement.  "I got the whole thing on video", laughs my friend.

Now the day has turned seriously warm, and with all this anxiety and excitement I am feeling very thirsty.  My friend pulls out some fresh fruit and we relax on the grass while our girls play with Tornado.

We make the one and a half hour trip home, and then the heavens open up - the evening is an emotional disaster.  There's a part of me that just wants to collapse and forget the XC tomorrow.  Even without the emotional turmoil, it was going to be hard enough.  Now I have "rides too much" and "competes too much" and a swag of other accusations to deal with.  I would love to just give up, but something in me stays more determined than even "me".  Plus, I need to go there tomorrow anyway to judge a cross country jump.

The next day I wake up looking about 10 years older.  The anxiety of "how exactly am I going to ride this cross country course?" is massive.  When I load Dingo on the float he starts shaking.  It's balmy warm.  He's shaking with fear.  It's not helping.

During the journey many visions flash through my mind - mainly of Dingo stopping at a fence, of me falling off somewhere, of someone approaching my daughter and saying "unfortunately, your mother has fallen off".  It's crushing.

When we arrive at the venue the cross country for the higher grades is in progress, and the entrance we used yesterday is blocked off.  There is another entrance but we're not sure where that is, and I'm anxious and edgy so I'm not brilliant at finding my way.  About 3 U-turns later - U-turns with a float and two ponies, on busy roads, feeling anxious! - about 3 U-turns later we arrive, park and unlaod.  We have just enough time to report for jumps judging.

We set ourselves up at the last jump, our backs to the sun.  It's the first day of summer.  I give my daughter the job of recognising the numbers.  I put on my safety vest, turn on my walkie talkie, and look down at my clip board.  I have never been a cross country judge before.  In my clipboard I have a score sheet, and a "fall report" sheet.  On the fall report it has three squares for reporting the severity of the fall.  They are labelled: Mild, Severe, Fatal.  Fatal.  Sobering.

The riders start coming through and we watch carefully for numbers, stops and refusals.  I watch how these riders ride their horses, how they approach the jump, and how they jump it.  Most of the horses go clear.  As my judging time draws to a close, I form a plan.

I relax, and speak directly to my subconscious mind "I want you to ride like a pro today.  All these riders you've just seen, they ride like amateurs.  I know, that you know how a pro rides.  I know that I have all the skills and ability to ride like a pro.  I want you to ride like a pro today."  Then I take a long hard look at the last jump, and visualise Dingo going over it and across the finish line, while I punch the air and shout "that was the best 5 minutes of my life".  And from then on, everytime I get a vision of me having a mishap, I replace it with the picture of Dingo going clear over the last.

In the cross country warm-up I focus on control.  This has been my bane ever since the start of time.  The warm-up goes well, and I don't get a single refusal.  I get out of control on the landing a couple of times.  A couple of times - that means two.

The starter counts me down, and we're off.  Not at some fast canter, or mad gallop, but at a controlled trot.  Three strides out from the jump I make sure that Dingo has seen it.  Two strides out, I let him go and he pops over it effortlessly.  It feels like just another canter stride.  Then he tries to flatten out.  I don't let him.  I bring him back to a bouncy canter, a collected trot, anything, as long as his hindquarters are underneath him.

And so we tackle the course.  One jump at a time.  Total control in between the jumps.  Sometimes I let him go two strides before the jump, sometimes just one stride.  At the steps I ride him right up to the jump, nice and slow - after the first drop he falters for a split second - as expected.  He's never done steps before.  At the ski ramp I hear Tornado neigh and I clamp my legs on tighter to make sure that Dingo stays focussed.  Then Dingo eyes off the water, and thinks about skirting around the edge.  I drive him forwards.  The cheer squad, led and rallied by my daughter, claps.  And then ... and then the last jump is right there in front of me.  I drive my pony towards it, and we clear it, we pass the finish line, and I punch my fist into the air and call out "that was the best 5 minutes of my life".  I glance at my stop watch - ok, maybe the best 7 minutes.

Sabina runs towards me, joy on her face, and we give each other a hug.  We give Dingo a hug - he is lathered with sweat.  The Vet gives us the thumbs up and we're off to get a long cold drink.  Half way to the canteen, I stop, look at my daughter and say "Sabina, I've just had my Christmas".

The last jump on the cross country course.

Pakenham Upper Riding Club Combined Training

Lil showing some style in the Dressage.

Two horses on the float, half asleep daughter in the back seat, and I have never been this relaxed on my way to a competition.  I must be getting seasoned, or something.  At 6:06 am we roll out the front gate.  (6 minutes late - negligible).

No yards to hold the horses this time, so we tie them up to the float and cross fingers.  (Later on I discover where the yards are, but by that stage Lil is so settled it matters no more).

Lil is up first.  At gear check the ladies comment that she's shivering with fear, which, she is.  To me her state of mind seems much more sensible than last competition.  She warms-up well. but remains anxious to get back to Dingo.  Her dressage ring runs about 20 minutes late.  If I had known this I would have warmed her up differently.

The Dressage test goes relatively well.  I do my final halt at G rather than X, and it costs me 2 points as an error of course.  I am actually amazed that I got the rest of it right.  Might have to add some priority to learning tests in the future.  There are many details that could be fixed, but overall it was far more relaxed than Bulla.  It was also a Level 4 test, which asks for 20m circles in canter, and I was very pleased with those.  Especially considering that just yesterday I was getting some serious pigroots.

The warm-up arena for showjumping is right at the very top of the hill.  From there you get the most amazing view into the La Trobe valley.  It's like you're on top of the world.  And horses, or at least Lil, don't really like being on top of the world.  It's scary stuff!  Regardless, I make good progress in the warm-up, and then eye off the showjumping course.  The dazzleboard has certainly proven to be a show stopper, and the brick wall looks ominous.  Lil jumps well, but the dazzle board stumps her.  I drive hard and she jumps it, but has a rail down.  She puts in a big jump over the brick wall, but it never causes a problem.

I think that's a really good effort for her first (jumping) start at Level 4.

Lil getting some air in the Showjumping warm-up.

 Dingo's turn.  The dressage appears to have caught up, so I don't have as much time to warm-up as I hoped.  However, I get him going well, and I don't think more time would have made that much difference.  Dingo's dressage test is amazing.  It's not good enough to put him in the lead, but there is a world of improvement since 6 months ago.  There is "on the bit", there are moments of relaxation and a flowing trot, and the canters are slow and steady.  Mind you, I was using quite a lot of force to get those canters.  The judge comments that he can be "unsteady in the head".  Six months ago he was madly head shaking all through the test.  Like I said.  Amazing.

At the showjumping warm-up arena, Dingo is not as phased by the location as Lil was, and the warm-up is fairly normal.  He jumps over the cross rail, but when it comes to the straight bar he slams the breaks on big time.  What?!  I try again.  Same.  I have a look at the surface - the sand there is pretty deep.  Hmm.  I do know that is his weak point.  I should be panicking, I should be getting the cold sweats, I should be digging my heels in and flailing with the crop.  But, I'm not.  I'm totally calm as I observe my mind trying to find a solution that's in line with my training.

"Drive more".  The "drive" gives me a pony that's on the forehand, and it feels like I'm trying to hold back a steam train with my hands.  "So lift him a bit".  The lift helps.  I keep adjusting Dingo, and testing the feel on the cross rail.  Finally I'm happy, and he sails over the straight bar.  That's good enough.  My daughter and I head back down to the showjumping ring.

"Mama, you've got to get more drive", my daughter shakes her head at me.  "You've really got drive him.  Don't let him turn away.  Drive, drive, drive.  You must add more drive."  We pass some floats, and a lady gives us a knowing look.

I start my showjumping round.  I drive and lift and we clear the first jump, and then I know we're good.  I keep adjusting, a bit more drive here, a touch more lift there.  Dingo sails around the course as though it's child's play.  He never even glances at the dazzleboard, and he does a huge jump over the wall, but only because I prepped him up for it.  Probably with the look of fear painted on my face.  Clear.  That's all that matters in the end.

Sabina is ecstatic.  Obviously I've followed her advice.

We don't get any placings, and I'm wondering how I'm going to face my husband without a ribbon.  But I am very happy with the performance of both horses, I can see a lot of improvements, I've had a couple of "A-ha" moments, and I've got lots of material to work and improve on.

In the end I think Dingo came equal 11th, and Lil came about 16th in a field of 22 horses.

Lil now goes out for a spell of about 3 to 4 weeks.  While Dingo ramps up his training in preparation for Horse Trials.

Dingo flying over the wall in Showjumping.

Bulla Horse Trials - Ricky Bannister Fundraiser

The alarms goes off at 4:50am, and I groan.  Daylight savings started a mere 3 hours ago.  But my brain surges ahead with the plans: get dressed, feed the horses, attach the float, come back to get Sabina, then load Lil.  Phew!  I like a girl with a plan.  Plan executed, and at 6:13am we are driving out the front gate.

The journey is boring at best.  We roll up at Bulla Pony Club, park, unload, visit the bathroom, and register.  The usual stuff.  Lil has clipped herself during the travel - it's totally minor, but I make a mental note to float her in bell boots on the front legs in the future.

The dressage warmup is in a huge grassy area that, in a couple of hours, will become the cross country course.  Our ring is right next to the road, with a strand of small trees, bush and scrub acting as a screen.  So you can hear the cars coming, but you can't see them until they are pretty close.  Lil's "relaxing" is not going well.  I try my best.  I think it's my best.  But I know it's not.  In addition our two weeks of holidays and daily feeding for Lil means I am on a fairly hot horse who just wants to canter.  That's great for cross country.

We ride up to the judge, and on the gravelly surface, next to the road Lil tenses up, and I can't really find the right button to push to change it.  So the dressage is terrible.  It's something that would be "just ok" with Dingo, but I really expect a lot more than that from Lil.

The showjumping, in contrast goes brilliantly.  Lil is a bit hot during the warm-up.  But she is keen rather than disobedient.  She does a showjumping round that the onlookers call "stylish".  Shucks.

After the jumping we get a breather - lunch, coffee, walk the cross country course and check out the results.  The cross country course is beautiful.  For the first time in my life I am not nervous about cross country.  I re-walk the course in my mind, and start worrying that perhaps I should be nervous.  I manage to grow respectful, rather than foolhardy, and leave it at that.

The results are another matter.  After the dressage I am coming =14th (last!) in a field of about 18 riders.  Hardly surprising.  However, after showjumping I move up to =12th.

The event is running early, and by the time I make it to cross country warm-up it's actually time to ride.  A few riders skip the queue ahead of me, and we get enough time for trot, canter, and a few jumps.  It's all Lil needs.  She's keen.

We head out of the starting gates at an easy trot as Lil assesses the course.  Lil's not quite sure what to lock onto just yet, and she takes the odd look at the jumps judges.  So it's a bit all over the place for the first four jumps.  Then we get our groove.

Number 5 is a double, the second part being a little brush and we almost have a run-out.  After that I take a bit of a stronger hold.  We bowl along at a fast canter, and I get the feeling that Lil is really happy with the pace, but also happy to come back when I ask.  It's magic.

Just before the water I slow her down to a walk.  I know my daughter is just there, watching, and I ensure that we do the perfect pass through the water - that is, the speed at which we approach the jump, is the same speed through the water, and the same speed after the water.  Then we bounce back into the canter and head over the last and towards the finish line.  Clear.

I am all ready to just pack up and go home, but Sabina forces me to see the results.  What?!  We are 6th!!!  And the girl that was equal with us has pipped us at the post.  We're on the same score, but she is 5th because Lil and I were a bit too fast cross country.  So of course we stay for the presentations.

It's 7pm by the time we get home, and it's been a long day.  I feed the horses, and then return later to collect their buckets.  Lil comes up to me, and pushes her head gently towards me.  I rub her lovingly on the forehead, between the eyes, between the ears.  I think I'm not the only one who enjoyed the day.

As soon as I have a moment spare I'm on the blower to my instructor "I think you need to re-grade Lil to Level 4.  How soon can you come over?"

Experience is everything (Cranbourne South Showjumping Day)

Dingo the pocket rocket in AM7

The last time I took Dingo and Lil to a competition, it ended in Lil kicking the float, followed by an expensive vet bill and a week of insanity as I attempted to look after her and work.  Unpurturbed, I attempted to take them together to another competition - that ended in Lil injuring herself before we even got going, and having 2 months off.  Since then, the two horses have travelled to different competitions separately.

That is, until now.  I feel that I have learned enough about Lil, that I was willing to take her to a competition together with Dingo.  So the main aim of going to the Cranbourne South Showjumping Day, was to have the experience of riding two horses, and to give Dingo a go at Level 4 Showjumping, before trying to get him upgraded to Level 3.

The beauty of a Showjumping competition with two horses at different levels, as opposed to a Horse Trials, is that the levels are ridden in order - so once your horse is saddled, you ride your rounds and then that horse is done.  Whereas in a Horse Trials you have the whole complexity of this horse is doing dressage, while that horse needs to be saddle up for showjumping, this level is running late, etc.

I am proud to say, that we were the first competitor to arrive at pretty much exactly the correct time in accordance with my schedule.  A 4:30am wake-up, two horses, and my eight year old daughter - not a trivial feat.  Upon my arrival, and to my great relief, I sighted yards.  Yards with 3 sides - perfect.  The horses will have all the experience of being tied up, without being tied up to the float.  Lil might kick the yard, but at least she won't kick the float.

Having secured prime position, I got Lil ready, while my daughter diligently prepared Dingo.  My daughter came along as strapper, but she only strapps Dingo.

In my mind the ultimate test of horse and rider is Horse Trials, and the cross country jumps certainly require respect.  So a Showjumping competition is really just another training opportunity.  Nevertheless, I was nervous.

There were three rounds - Take Your Own Line (TYOL), AM7 and Table C.  I found TYOL a lot more of a challenge than I thought.  As you walk the course, you spend half your time thinking about what line to take, and the other half, trying to remember the line you chose.  And in the end, I lost my way.  I still did the entire course, and it was a great round, but it would have been faster if I had remembered my original line.

In AM7, Lil did a wonderful job going clear (of course), and then I stuffed up in the jump off.  Luckily, I never crossed my tracks, and was able to complete it, but, again, we lost time.

Lil over the last one in AM7

Finally, Table C.  By this time, the nerves had settled, and I had a good feel of how Lil was travelling.  In addition, I think the "ride for a short time, then put her away" routine really agreed with Lil.  We had a really nice round, although Lil did drop a rail - most likely out of laziness.

Then it was Dingo's turn.  The change over from Lil to Dingo wasn't rushed, but we certainly had no time to play with, and my strapper, little though she is, was priceless.  With Dingo, my biggest concern was that he has just come back from a holiday, and we haven't done much jumping at the required height.  I needn't have worried.

This time, in TYOL, I remembered my line, and the little pony flew around without a single second look, and he never rattled a rail.  In AM7, we got a clear round, and a clear jump off.  No mistakes there.  And he flew around the Table C course - a little too fast perhaps, which means I had to fight for control, and it probably cost us time.

In the end, the scores looked like this:
Lil:
TYOL - 7th
AM7 - 7th
Table C - 3rd

Dingo:
TYOL - 6th
AM7 - 11th
Table C - 5th

A lot can be said about the placings Lil could have got had I not made the errors.  Experience is everything.

We walked away with three ribbons, a daughter who had a great day (and took over 100 photos!!!), and two horses who arrived home safe and sound.  Success!!!

A happy strappy!

Friends of Melton Horse Trials

Lil ambling cautiously through the water jump

Having enjoyed this event on Dingo last year, I decided to enter Lil in it this year.  Level 5.  The schedule arrived in the mail - I was first - on at 8am!!!  What am I doing on at 8am?  Why couldn't they put some other, more local rider, on at 8am.  Don't they realise it's a 2 hour drive?  Then I remembered - my entry would have been the very very last to arrive, in one of those express post envelopes.  So that's the system - last entry, first to go.  Great!

Then I remembered the quality of the grounds - clay surface.  Going first will mean that the ground is less slippery.  For Lil, that's a serious advantage.  Thank you God!

Well, I wasn't saying exactly that as I was getting up at 3am in the morning!  I left home in the dark, had a wonderfully uneventful journey, the road to myself, and arrived still in the dark (although you could just see a smigin of dawn on the horizon).  And parked right opposite my friends.

By 7:30am I was on Lil, gently circling at gear check.  Then another lady arrived on her horse.  We looked at the sign that said "gear check".  We exchanged a few kind words, something about "wonder when the gear checkers get here", and continued to circle daintily.  Then another lady arrived, looked at the sign, looked at us, and unscrupulously called out "GEAR CHECK PLEASE!".

I was majorly disappointed with my dressage.  All this beautiful trot that we've been practicing at home just wasn't there.  Lil wasn't settled at all, she was eyeing off the edge of the arena, as well as the water jump behind the judge's car, and bulging towards the float.  And at the end of it all she had the cheek to tell me how unhappy she was about the whole affair.  Luckily, she had a couple of hours to sit in a yard and think about it.

Going first in dressage also meant I was the first to go in cross country.  What I didn't realise was that I was the very fist - out of all the levels - to be going cross country.  This means that all eyes were going to be on me to see how it's riding.  That's kind of cool.

The start of the cross country was late, which means we were there, circling aimlessly for ... well ... a long time.  Lil had kittens about 3 times - one of these being over some arena fencing falling off the back of a truck, where she was ready to gallop back to her yard.  When I didn't allow that option, she seriously considered dumping me.  Horses.

I braved all of her behaviour as best as I could, and in the end I actually had a horse that was travelling actively between leg and hand - just the way my instructors told me to aim for.  So, while the cross country start was late, it actually worked in my favour.

Finally, off we went.  Lil jumped the first jump as though she was doing a three star course, then bulked at the second.  It took some persuasion, but she went over it eventually, then travelled beautifully until we got to the water.  I slowed her down to a walk, but she really would have preferred a considerably longer look.  Then we got our groove, and she bounded along happily.  With three jumps to go I checked my watch.  We were over time, and I allowed her to press on at the fast canter.  We finished with 20 jumping penalties - which must have been the refusal at jump 2.

Due to the late start of the cross country, it was straight back to gear check and straight into the showjumping ring.  Lil thought that really it was time for the yard, and brief thoughts of parting company with me entered her mind.  Emphasis on "brief".  It was in the showjumping ring that Lil suddenly showed her forte.  Instructors often tell you of lengthening and shortening, of basculing, and doing the perfect turn.  Lil did it all like magic.  It flowed, and she flew, and she did the perfect clear round.

Lil went back into her yard and nuzzled her new found friends.  I grabbed a coffee and a muffin and went to talk to my friends.  We hung around long enough to see the results posted on the board.  I looked at the bottom of the list, which is where I expected to see myself, but I wasn't there.  Damn it!  They've somehow lost me off the list.  Perhaps I got eliminated at jump 2?  Then it dawned on me to look a bit further up the list - we came 8th!  I was stoked!

We packed up and headed home - getting there at dusk.  I was greeted by my husband and my daughter who brought me warmed up food to the shed, where I was unloading my horse.

Dream Team wrap up

Last year I joined the Dream Team in a bid to take me to new heights (literrally) in my horse riding journey.  Participating in the Dream Team meant that I had far less time to update my blog, but, it was worth it.

For starters, I can honestly say that I have never felt so disorganised, and so organised at the same time.  You see, you "organise" your own success.  That's right.  Generally, I am a pretty organised sort of person.  To fully participate in the Dream Team journey, I had to learn how the people at the top of my game organise themselves.  Not only that, I had to model them - adopt their way of getting organised towards success.

Planning success was only part of it though.  I had to re-define success - or perhaps, "define" success.  Yes, that's right.  What does success really mean?  I had to define my goals.  I had to strip myself of all my excuses - yes, all of them, even the ones that seem genuine - and really understand where I was going, and what it would take to get there.  How much time it would take to get there?  How much money?

The Dream Team course also forced us to face our fears.  Isn't that a dark area where no one really wants to go?  Then the course gave us tools to deal with our fears.  To help us do what we feared to do the most.  It showed us how to break down our fear, and deal with it one step at a time.

To say that the Dream Team is a one year course is a total misconception.  It introduces you to a whole new paradigm of how to live your life.  It doesn't just apply to your horse riding.  It applies to your entire life.  Horse riding is just one aspect of it, as is your work, your relationships, your chores, and your fun time.  And should you choose to live the paradigm, you're in the Dream Team forever.

So, ok, I have obviously enjoyed the course, and got a lot out of it.  But what are the tangible improvements?  Has it taken me to new heights?  Well, to put it bluntly, YES!!!  At the beginning of last year, Dingo was graded level 5 in jumping, and I was warming-up over tiny cross rails, and sporting the look of fear as I jumped 45cm at the end of my session.  Since then, Dingo has done three horse trials - and that is a success in itself - and he has been re-graded to level 4.  I now warm up over 45cm straights, and by the end of the session we are clearing 80cm (which means we are ready to be re-graded to level 3).  Dingo is about to do his first Introductory event, and I am already looking forward to seeing him compete at Preliminary level (hopefully next year) - even though some of those jumps currently look huge to me.

I guess the sceptics would ask the question - but wouldn't you have got there anyway?  Well here is my answer ... remember that look of fear when jumping 45cm?  I had been graded level 4 in jumping for over 10 years!!!  For a while I had regular showjumping lessons with a proper showjumping coach.  Physically, my horse could easily do level 3 and level 2 jumps.  Physically, I had the skill to do level 3 and level 2 jumps.  It was my mindset that was letting me down, and the Dream Team gave me the tools to fix that.

Dingo clearing the last fence at Yarrambat PC Horse Trials, while I am sporting a smile on my face.

Hazelwood Clinic

Today I am at Hazelwood Lodge again for a clinic.  It's actually a two day clinic, but, because of Pony Club tomorrow, I am only here for one day.  Such a pity.  I'd love to stay for two.

The weather leaves a lot to be desired.  Sheets of rain have been coming down all night and morning.  It's not inspiring.  However, we seem to get a slight break just as my lesson starts.

Within minutes, Catherine has my horse going much better than I have her going at home.  It's all about using the correct aids, at the right time.  It's also all about balance.  Apparently, we need to help the horse to balance themselves.  We need to teach them to find the right balance.  Really?!!  I've always thought that horses will find their own balance.  Apparently, not so.

Towards the end of the lesson, the rain starts coming down again.  I briefly consider getting my rain coat.  But my horse is now going so well, and I am so engaged in the lesson, that I just do not care if I get saturated.  We work a bit on canter transitions, and just a couple of brief words from Catherine help me to improve out of sight.  It's just awesome.

Lunch is delicious, as always.  Then time for my jumping lesson.

I warm up my horse.  She seems somewhat distracted initially, what with the pinto grazing on one side, the cows on the other, and the foal frolicking carelessly in the paddock.  But even while distracted, her work is much improved.

We go over some trot poles, then Catherine sets up a cross rail.  It's not a big cross rail, but I'm having kittens all the same.  Why?  Because Lil will either go left, or go right, or do a huge leap over it, and I just don't know which one it will be.  It's the huge leap, and I jab her in the mouth.  So of course, next time around she tries to go right.  I get her over it, this time I don't jab her in the mouth, and from then on we just gain confidence.

The grid increases in difficulty, and Lil just grows more confident, more balanced, and more focussed with every jump.  The progress is fantastic.  Catherine's advice is invaluable - she is so clear about just how much I need to do as a rider, and how much the horse needs to work out for themselves.

I've now got lots to work on at home, before I return here in December.

I just wanted to add, that during the breaks I watch other lessons intently.  What amazes me every time, is how much the horses improve for each rider, within each lesson.

Warragul PC Showjumping Day

Recently I took Sabina to the Warragul PC Showjumping Day.  She had just been graded in showjumping, so I thought the timing was perfect.

It was a lovely warm day, with a pretty early start.  The day started at 8:30, with all rings running in parallel.  The organisers did an absolutely fantastic job.

Sabina did the training F grade, where they were allowed to be led around.  As Tornado can have a bit of a mind of his own, I thought she would have far more fun if I took up the led option.  So we jogged around the course, with Tornado going faster towards the end, and me getting quite puffed out!

In the end Sabina was very happy with 6th place - especially since the ribbon colour was the same as her club colours.  They had 3 competitions in all (for each grade), which I thought was really good value.  Sabina had had enough after 2.  I was a bit disappointed, but managed to keep my smile.  Anything to make sure the little one has a "great" day!

My one comment on the day would be - can we please start after 9am!  Otherwise, it was brilliant!

Showjumping clinic

I took Dingo to a showjumping clinic today.  It was supposed to be a cross country clinic, but either due to lack of interest, or wetness of the cross country course, it ended up being a showjumping clinic.  Never mind.  If the pony is to compete, then any clinic is a good clinic.

Well we arrived without any issues, I saddled up and then I looked at our arena.  It was indoors.  Dingo had never been in an indoor before.  (Well, he actually had.  Back in February when I took him to a dressage day.  But we only did a short warm up in there.)  He took it all in his stride, though.

The instructor made some interesting points in the lesson.  Some to which I nodded wisely, and some which were quite new. 

Firstly - confidence is everything.

Secondly - if you feel things are not going right, and you do nothing, then your worst fears will come true.  Do something.  As long as you do something, chances are you will change the situation for better.  But, never, ever, do nothing.

Thirdly (and this was the new one to me, and my favourite) - do not jump from a standstill.  If your horse stops at a jump then show your displeasure, then take him around again and make him do it from canter, and make him jump it.  In fact, the coach went as far as saying that you don't jump from a trot either.  Nor from a walk.  The reasoning being that in a competition you will be jumping from a canter, so train your horse to jump from the canter always.  If they sometimes stop, then you will never know whether they will stop or whether they will jump, and so you can't be confident.  See first point.

Fourthly - if something goes wrong, then it's your horse's fault.  But you have to correct it.  Which might not look pretty.  When you've finished your jumping round, you might want realise that it was actually your fault, and you might want to apologise to your horse.  But while you're jumping - it's your horse's fault.

We jumped a warmup jump.  Then we did a little course - a mixture of grade 5 and 4.  Then he added a second part of the course at grade 3.  Dingo did the first part of the course, and we had fun doing it.  He did a great job of it.

I skipped the grade 3 part though.  I have every confidence that Dingo can do the height.  But to me, he just wasn't travelling well enough on the day.  And I kept thinking that if he jumps funny, then there is just not enough neck to land on.

It took me all afternoon to work out that what I should have done is sat back more, and looked up more and treated the upcoming grade 3 jump as though it was a grade 1 jump.  Next time.

The instructor was really happy with Dingo and with my riding.  He really thought I should have done the second part of the course.

Dingo's grading

I had Dingo graded at Adult Riding Club today.

We were very lucky as the instructor came out and gave us a lesson first and then graded us as well. So I was able to work on Dingo's running issue, get him to slow down, and carry himself much better. This, in turn, meant that the grading was far more in control.

We were graded for Dressage, which went smoothly.

Then we proceeded with Showjumping. Dingo took to this like a duck to water. I had practiced trot poles and canter poles with him at home, and tiny little jumps. But here, he went around the grade 5 course like a little pocket rocket. Then we started jumping grade 4. And honestly, if it wasn't for his short neck and my terrible habit of getting too far forward, I think we would have graded at grade 4. But, due to the reasons mentioned above, I'll stick to grade 5 until we've got some experience under our belt.

Finally, cross country. As we don't have a cross country at our club grounds, the instructor just asked me to go for a fast canter around the perimiter of the grounds. I kicked Dingo into gear, enjoying every second of my little hoon.

So now we are graded and ready to compete.

Clinic - Day 2

This morning we're up early and riding by 8am. Dressage is first, and Lilly and I find a good rhythm. When I ask for canter, Lilly rushes into it, just like she did yesterday. "That was terrible!", shouts Catherine in a friendly voice. But she means what she says. "But ... but ... that was just fine yesterday", I stammer. "Yeah, but I didn't know you then, or how you ride", comes the reply. "Oh", I sigh. The bar has been raised. I try again, and the transition is indeed much better.

In this lesson we also do some leg yielding. At home, I've had a few problems with leg yielding. Here, it's much smoother. Something to do with Lilly actually using her top line and being able to do it. Feels great.

After the dressage lesson I get a breather, and then we ride again at 11am. Jumping.

The other girl in my lesson and I do our own warm up. Catherine is watching, but doesn't comment unnecessarily. This is great, because it alows you to think for yourself - just like you would have to do at home. The canters (and their transitions) are improving out of sight. I am very happy.

Then Catherine just builds on yesterday. That's right. No trot poles, no canter poles, just straight over the grid. And this works really really well. Then she adds another obstacle at the front of the grid. We go around, and the heights go up. By the end we're jumping about 2'.

Lilly starts to get tired. She knocks down one of the jumps entirely. Then she starts refusing. I grab a little crop, and Lilly has a bit of a tantrum. Compared to what Princess and Gally could dish out, this is nothing. Finally I get her over the jumps (now lowered a bit) a couple of times, and we call it a day. She is lathered up everywhere - even behind the ears.

I feel tired, but really really happy. The progress we have made is just fantastic, and in addition I walk away with just the right amount of tips, and things to practice. I simply cannot wait to come back for another clinic. I cannot wait to bring Sabina here too!

Hazelwood Lodge

It's one of those cold mornings, with the classic colourful Australian sunrise and frost on the ground. In fact, it's the most frost I have ever seen at the farm. But, no time for photos, as I'm off to Hazelwood Lodge for a two day clinic with Catherine Martindale.

The drive is made a little bit tricky by heavy fog, but I arrive without a hitch. I unload Lilly and put her in a yard, then I take in the place. It's only 9am in the morning, but the place is ... well ... busy.

Stables are being cleaned out, yards are already full of horses. Some are being saddled. There are three riders just starting a lesson. A lady in a purplish-pink jacket walks up to me "Hi, I'm Catherine", she smiles. I like her straight away.

I saddle up and start my lesson. Within seconds, Catherine is at my side explaining things. "Ok, you want to have her head just here", she takes the bit, and gently asks Lilly to drop her head. "When you're working at home, you want the ears level with the wither. You want to see this muscle here. That's their top line."

Lilly relaxes and travels happily forward. Of course, this is a new place, so she keeps getting distracted a bit by the goings on. But Catherine has made things so clear to me, that regaining the right frame seems childs play. I feel like jumping off and giving her a big hug!

When it comes time to canter, Lilly rushes into it, but we manage to maintain a 20m circle. This is great progress for a horse that believed you can only canter in straight lines a mere two weeks ago. We even manage a few relaxed strides.

I am actually in a group lesson - there are three of us. However, Catherine gives me one-on-one attention, then sends me off to practice. But, she's got eyes in the back of her head. Even though I'm at the other end of the arena, when I really do something wrong, I hear her shrill voice correcting me.

After lunch I have a jumping lesson. "So, how much jumping has she done?", asks Catherine. "Well, only trot poles really", I reply. Catherine sets up some trot poles and we go over. Then she converts them into canter poles, and we canter over them. Lilly is caught a little bit by surprise, but she adjusts pretty quickly.

Then Catherine sets up a grid. Just a simple one at the start - some trot poles and then a cross rail. Lilly trots over the lot. The grid changes to cross rail, one stride with a pole, cross rail. Lilly trots into it, then takes the remainder at canter. That's the whole idea. The grid is forcing her to jump. Very soon, the second obstacle becomes a straight bar. The progress is so smooth and simple that once again I feel like jumping off and giving Catherine a huge bear hug.

After the lesson, I have the chance to watch others ride. Women of all sorts of shapes, sizes, ages, and aspirations are here. And Catherine is equally attentive to all of them. Her confident, but relaxed style, with the odd joke thrown in for good measure, creates a fantastic atmosphere.

June Pony Club

They say that a picture tells a thousand words.  Well, here are a few words for those that still need a caption added to the above photo.

We went to pony club.  Sabina was riding Tornado, and she had an absolute ball going over the jumps.  (She has never ever jumped before).  And ... the minature (pony) can jump.

TTT Horse Trials - Day 2

The morning starts with a cross country pace. Delicious cooked breakfast, thanks to Anita's camp cooking setup. Then, within minutes, the whole camp setup is put away, and replaced by two horses happily munching on hay.

We walk the cross country course. "Which is the hardest jump?", I ask. "Well, the first one", answers Anita. "I actually think it takes about three jumps for your horse to really get going. So the first three jumps are the hardest", I add. We are standing at jump number three - the dredge. I put my foot on the edge of the boxy wooden jump. "This will be your hardest jump. Make sure you drive." The rest of the course is pretty basic. As it should be, at grade 5. Although I think the water and the slide might sort out a few combinations.

Later at the float, Anita makes a comment that it's really the dressage, which determines how you place. I've now been to enough competitions to know that's not true. "I think you will find that there will be a lot of place shuffling after both the cross country and the showjumping".

I warm up Crownie for the cross country. We do a nice walk, trot, canter and then over the cross country warm up jump. She's a touch hesitant. We do the jump again, this time following another horse. She gets a lot of confidence from this. Once more - she powers over the jump. That's what I am looking for. Attitude. And she's got plenty of it.

We're off. Crownie lacks confidence, but she gets over one and two. At three she seriously doubts herself, but I give her no options. She bangs her legs but gets over it. And from there on it just flows. At jump 7 I slow her down because I know the photographer is on the other side. She stops at the water, zig zags left and right but doesn't actually step back. We're through. She finds the slide easy, and we bound over the last two. About 30 seconds over time. What a hoot! Best 5 minutes of my life!

The showjumping round is beautiful and flows really well. Crownie gets a rail down on the double. That's fine, since she's not really up to doubles yet. But we're under time, and it rides splendidly.

Anita also has lovely rounds in cross country and showjumping. Also a rail down.

I finish 10th. Anita is 8th!!! And she gets a sash! But the best thing is, Kris wins her grade 4 division! I think we'll be opening a bottle of champagne tonight!

Jumping canter

Today I start off Crownie's work by lunging her first. Over trot poles, then over jumps.

I am really pleased with her work over trot poles now. It's rythmic and steady, and she's lifting her legs. Nice.

The jumping isn't so good yet. She manages to knock the pole off a few times. This will profit you not. The pole goes back on, and she jumps it. The idea of jumping her on the lunge, is so that she has a chance to work on her own balance, without any interference from me. I like to think that these days I am sufficiently balanced that I help more than interfere, but even experiencing that difference for herself is good.

Then I start riding and just do dressage. That's right. The jumping was good enough, she jumped all her final jumps, end of lesson. At least on the jumping front.

In the dressage we work on getting those hind legs underneath. Walk, halt, trot and canter. Jumping canter. The time has come to work on fitness, and that of course means canter. Lots of it. Good, quality, jumping canter. She does well, and I can see that when we are done she is genuinely tired.

To jump

Today I commenced teaching Crownie to jump. I've jumped her before, but she's never had much of a formal education.

Now that I understand the concept of "This will profit you" and "This will profit you not", the training takes on a whole new wonderful dimension.

I have setup some tiny cross rails, and the whole idea is for Crownie to jump each one. All I have to do is show her that jumping over the logs profits her. So once she's over the log, I relax and leave her alone.

I keep repeating the exercise until I feel (intuition at work?) that she no longer looks to run out. That she feels the jump isn't an issue, and it's easier to actually just jump it rather than try something else. I don't increase the jumps in height.