Dressage in the State Forest

I have opted to stop using the top arena altogether, and I have been trying to do my dressage and show jumping in the bottom arena.  Well the ground there was sucky at best, and in general, Dingo just tried to run through it.  So at a recent Dream Team workshop, I asked the coach what she would do in my situation.

After gaining full understanding of what the ground was like, she said "take him out trail riding, but ... do dressage."  Basically, just ignore that you're on the trail, and do all your normal dressage as though you were going down the long side of the arena.  Honestly, the only thing you can't practice are circles.

So that is what I did.  And I must admit that it worked much better than expected.  I certainly thought the quality of work I got from my pony was far better than in a soggy and slippery paddock.

The Trail Ride Test

I thought I'd push the envelope a bit and I took Lilly for a trail ride today.  My cousins came up for the weekend, and they were keen to go riding.  Since the last two rides I did with them were rather short (as they were just getting used to their horses), I was determined to do a longer ride this time.

So off we went, into the state forest.  Walking, and trotting, and cantering and even going for a short gallop.  My cousins loved the gallop.

Lilly's soundness was maintained throughout the ride.  What surprised me was her willingness to be brave and go forward!  In the past, on these sorts of rides, she would sometimes have "chicken" moments, and I had to ask Crownie (and her rider) to take the lead.  Not so today.  Lilly led the whole way, without ever putting a foot wrong.

She loved all the fast work, and by the time we were doing the last canter she had enough sting out of her to just sit in and enjoy.  Enjoy the rocking motion, the fresh air in my face, the green trees whizzing by.

Group ride

A couple of friends came up today and together we went for a trail ride.  It was a great opportunity to take Lil out.

Well, she was a little champ.  When we first heard the motorbikes she seriously thought it was time to flee.  But since the other horses remained calm, and I just firmly asked her to calm down, she gave the whole fleeing thing a miss.

When we went for a canter, I thought she might want to head to the front and race.  But no.  I was pleasantly surprised.  I was able to move her to the front, then move her to second, and so on.  And she stayed so relaxed and so soft throughout.  It was, to put it simply, just marvellous.

Horse seriously going sideways

I got up early this morning, hoping to avoid the motorbikes, and get out onto the trail for a serene ride in the state forest.

Lilly seemed a bit fresh, but otherwise everything was going according to plan.

Then we got to the top of the hill, where the state forest track starts.  It just so happens that the next door neighbour had chosen this exact same beautiful morning to send his cows off to market.  His quad bike was going up and down the hill like a growling monster, the family was standing around the cattle yards, the cattle, in the cattle yards, were knocking about, with the cattle trailer and ute on hand.  Oh, and the dogs in the back of the ute were sniffing and whining.

By the time I got Lilly past the show, she was having kittens.  It took me a little while to hop on, and then she considered backing into a tree and leaving me there.  I resorted to just sitting atop my steed quietly for a while, never taking my eye off that tree behind me.  Then some sanity overcame my horse as she proceeded down the track.

She was a bit nervous, but it was pleasant enough until we got to a fork in the road.  Lilly stopped and no amount of encouragement could get her to walk forward.  In fact, she just started going sideways - back towards home.  I tried to stop her from going sideways, of course, but she had stopped listening to me.

We travelled like this for a kilometre, while I considered whether getting off is a good idea or not.  Then she heard the quad bike again, and promptly proceeded to travel sideways, in the opposite direction.  "Oh goody", I thought to myself.  "She's not going forwards for me, but we're going where I want to go, so this is sort of good."  When we got within sight of the fork in the road, Lilly stopped.  She tried to rear, then proceeded to go sideways towards home again.

At this point, I knew that the horse had lost it.  She was no longer listening to me.  In fact, I had sort of become her arch enemy, she just decided I wasn't pesky enough to dislodge.  She was totally lost at what to do, she felt terrified, and didn't see a way out of the situation.

The smartest thing I could think of was to just make her stand still.  This worked fairly well, and when she stood still I stroked her neck and spoke softly to her.  When I thought I had restored some good will, and we had been standing still for a sufficiently long period of time, I got off.  I picked up the shoe we'd lost along the way, and then walked her towards home.

When we got to where my next door neighbour was loading his cows, I made Lilly stop.  I stayed as relaxed and calm as I could, and I let her just observe and work it out.  When she finally put her head down to graze, I knew this was as relaxed as she was going to get, and walked on home.

At home, we walked straight into the arena, and I worked Lilly for about an hour.  Mainly we worked at the walk, concentrating on lowering the head and relaxing.

The conclusion from this ride is - every horse has a reaction when they feel panic.  Some bolt, others buck, some rear.  Lilly's thing is going sideways.  That's what made me have such a hopeless ride a week ago - Lilly was going sideways in the arena.  But only on the left rein.

Lilly's outing

Yesterday Dingo had an outing, today it's Lilly's turn.  Except that she's not off to a clinic.  She's off to the state forest for a walk.

We are barely out the front gate, when Lilly first sinks her hooves in the ground and refuses to go forwards.  I am carrying a crop, but at this point I don't feel the need to use it.  There is a lot of going backwards, and she tries at all costs not to go forwards.  But in the end, she relents, and we walk on, up to the state forest gates.

There are two gates into the state forest, and the 40m in between them is hardly enough to bother getting back on.  So while I am walking her between the two gates, Lilly kindly tries to bulldoze me.  Nothing a bit of "stop" and "back up" can't fix.

Once we are on the state forest track, firstly it takes me a while to get on, due to Lilly spinning about.  When I am finally on, she takes up to going backwards again.  A bit of a tricky task, as there is quite a slope in places, and the ground has all sorts of nasty branches lying in long grass.  I persist gently.  The fact that the gate is closed is a real help - at the very least we can just stand there.

After about 10 minutes, she gets over it, and goes forward.  Uncertainly at first.  I encourage with my seat, and she decides to trust me.  And the rest of the ride is pure pleasure.

Of course our tustles mean that we have wasted time, and I probably don't have the time to do a loop.  Not to mention, there might me more tustles along the way.  So I pick a nice safe looking spot and stop.  Then I ask her to go forward again.  Yes, this is really important.  It tests the friendship.  I can feel her hesitate, but we're good.  She goes forward.  I reward her by turning her around and heading home.

On the way home, I ensure that she is on her best behaviour.  There is to be no getting excited, no trit trotting, no head shaking, no shying.

Once we're back at the hitching rail I feel really satisfied with my ride.  It has shown me that we need to do much more of this.  But I have also returned feeling that quiet persistance, which is so much in my nature, works really well with this horse.  And I just think we make such a solid partnership.

The hoon horse

I have realised something really important. Horse riding, in my life, fulfills two distinct (and almost opposing) purposes. One purpose is time out. The other purpose is the art of training.

When horse riding is used for time out I head out bush and get lost for three hours, and I gallop. This behaviour is also known as:

• hooning
• fanging it
• racing with the wind
• flying, reins loose, arms out to the sides, screaming "yeeee-haaaar!!!"
• using up the juice
• letting it all out
• burning rubber
• sending sparks
• getting a breath of fresh air
• creating dust
• kicking up mud

(Rest assured I don't gallop for the full three hours, and my horse is well looked after, both throughout the ride, afterwards, and in between rides.)

The long and short of it is, that I need a horse that's my "hoon horse". A reliable steed that I can just jump on and get out there and enjoy the wind in my face. I might still take my hoon horse to competitions, but his primary purpose is to be the hoon horse. The fun horse. The everything horse.

Crownie used to be the perfect hoon horse. She is now happily retired, although we often reminisce about those days as I scratch her wither under the shade of a tree.

Now Dingo wears the title.

More riding than you can poke a stick at

Today was unbeatable.

Firstly I rode out into the state forest on Dingo. We had a fabulous time, riding all the way down to the other (pine) plantation. We had a few encounters with motorbikes and I think that Dingo has now pretty much learnt that when they idle by, they are harmless. My plan was to ride up a particular track, which extends beautifully between tall pines. Well, it's been a while since I've been there. So, firstly I got my tracks mixed up, and went down the wrong one. Secondly, the beautiful tall pines along said track have been logged. But the ride was spectacular and we enjoyed many trots, canters and gallops, as well as pleasant walks.

When I returned back to the farm I had lunch, and then headed out again. This time I rode Bel Bel, Sabina's pony. We just did some walk and trot in the arena/paddock, then headed up to the top gate. From there I led her home via the road. I like to ride Bel Bel once per week, just to keep the correct commands ticking over.

Finally I brought Lilly in. With Lilly I just did a standard dressage work out. The walk and trot (especially the trot) are now coming along nicely. The canter is still in the early stages, but I'm really happy with the progress there too. The other things we practice are serpentines (in the trot), leg yielding, shoulder in, and turns on the forehand. Notice that those last three ask for exactly the same thing - for the horse to respect your leg.

By the time we were finished it was dusk. Then I still fed the horses, and I was in the house at dark, a smigin after six. Heaven!

Another day, another ride

So, we went riding again today. In the state forest. Lilly and I. My friend on her horse. The clouds threatened, the track was wet, the air fresh. The mushrooms were rapidly growing out of the needles under the pine trees.

The few puddles provided handy obstacles for Lil. I asked her to go through some of the bigger puddles and she was a good sport.

We did the obligatory canter.

"She's pretty relaxed. She is ready to go out by herself now", commented my friend towards the end of the ride. I think I've found myself a new coach.

Or maybe my friend is just sick of opening gates for me.  Should I, perhaps, get off my high horse?

Lilly canters

Today I went out riding with my friend again, but this time I rode Lilly.  (Now that she's got shoes.)  I've only cantered Lilly twice, and on a ride into the state forest, you want to put in a canter or two.  But in the back of my mind, this canter, still sat as an unknown quantity.

So, up the first hill, we trotted.  That is, Lil trotted.  My friend was quite happily half a length behind us, cantering.  Up the next hill, I mustered up all my bravado, and after a few strides of trot I asked for a canter.

Lilly, the ex-racehorse that she is, lept forward, and hearing the cantering horse behind her, bounded along.  I sat back a bit, and she came back to me, and we continued on, up the hill in this lovely lovely fast canter.  It was just ace.

Pony express

Today my girlfriend came over again, and we decided to go and do a ride with some cantering.  She rode Mo, and I rode Dingo.

We rode deep into the state forest, chatting and ambling along.  When time came for a canter, I let my friend go first.  I thought that this would be good for Dingo - it would teach him to sit back and listen.  That it did, and he did some lovely canter work.

However, on the final stretch for home, my friend, having regained trust in her horse, allowed me to go first.  I gave Dingo the reins, and the pony galloped gladly along.  Then half way up the hill he started slowing down.  "Nice", I thought to myself, and then I heard my friend cantering up behind me.  I dug my heels in and the race was on.  All the way to the top of the track.

Dingo arrived first, with my friend calling out "I'll give you a run for your money next week!".

Love it!

Lilly goes bush

I've been wanting to take Lilly for a ride in the state forest for a couple of weeks, but the fact that she doesn't have shoes, and I don't have a riding buddy, has held me back.

Well today, my girlfriend came over, and "no shoes" by itself is not a good enough excuse to stay home.  So off we went.

Lilly started prancing down the first hill, but then she settled down.  A couple of times she thought about not going forward any further, but we got through that relatively easily.  Towards the end she was quite obedient and relaxed.  She enjoyed watching the views.

New pony settles in

Sabina, of course, was pretty keen on a palomino pony. But, the new pony is not palomino. She is a chestnut with a flaxen mane. But not flaxen tail, as is usually the case. However, Sabina was happy to forgo the palomino colour, as long as she got naming rights. She named the pony "Bel Bel". If you've read "The Silver Brumby", then you'll understand. And if you haven't read it, then I highly recommend it.

We started the day off with "personalising" Bel Bel. That is, Sabina trimmed her mane and forelock, as she saw fit. (Dingo had already done some personalising of Bel Bel, for which he quickly got relegated to another paddock).

Then we went on a trail ride into the state forest. Sabina, on Bel Bel, lead the way. That is, until we saw a bird on a log, which gave Bel Bel a tiny fright. The pony barely stepped sideways, but you've got to be fair. This was Sabina's first real ride on Bel Bel.

As Sabina got more confident we took turns leading, and even spent some time riding side by side and chatting. We rode all the way to Dead Cow, where we had a snack. Then back again. Along the way we saw dogs, birds, puddles, and fallen logs. We heard a car with a trailer. Bel Bel was unfazed.

Leading

A couple of friends came up to the farm yesterday and together we went for a nice ride in the state forest. We had a lovely time catching up, and everyone enjoyed their horses. The odd thing about this particular ride was that one of the said friends brought two horses.

She rode one horse, her trustworthy trail riding mare, and she led the other horse, her young beautiful (and big!) dressage horse. It appears that both need the exercise, and the dressage horse has been a bit difficult on the trail, so leading him is a nice way to get him used to being out.

The moment of truth (and good training) came when we all went for a canter up a 2km hill. We had Chris out the front on Mo, me second on Dingo (and a loose rein!) and the friend with two horses up the back. And none of the horses decided to get out of control and race. It was fabulous!

But it got better. Half way during the ride, Emma decided that her young dressage horse was going so well that she will ride him. So the saddle came off the mare, went onto the gelding and off we went again. The gelding did put in the odd trit trot here and there, a snort or two, but overall was very well behaved. Even when we heard the motorbikes.

I was most impressed.

Now I've been contemplating leading a horse out on trail rides for ... oooh ... about 4 years now. I've been mulling over the problems and issues I might encounter, and how I would deal with those. And that's where the matter stood.

Having now seen how my friend did it, how she handled various situations, has renewed my enthusiasm for it. It certainly trains two horses with the one ride. Especially if you swap half way.

Approach and retreat

I took Gally out for a trail ride. I felt nice and relaxed, and just wanted both of us to enjoy something other than 20m circles in the arena.

We had the odd stop and look along the way, but overall Gally was walking out nicely. Until we got to the dam. The pool of water is nicely shaded, and looks dark and cold and mysterious. Gally stopped dead at the sight of it. He eyed off the bush to the right, but I quickly checked him with the left rein. So he backed up ten steps.

Normally, this would have sent me kicking him forward. But like I said, today I felt nice and relaxed. So when he backed up, I sat and waited. After what seemed like an "appropriate" amount of time, I kicked him forward. We got to the same spot, he looked at the water in the dam, and backed up again. Again, I waited calmly before asking him to go forwards again.

This game of approach and retreat repeated itself about three or four times. And then Gally went forward cautiously and walked past the dam like a pro. He was still nervous, but he was willing to trust me. I on the other hand did my job of staying relaxed and not working myself into a crazy frenzy.

I am convinced that as a result, we got past the dam faster than we would have if I had got all uptight about the situation. This is an approach that might not work with all horses, but it certainly works with Gally.

Round the block

There is a small loop that one can ride in the state forest. Normally, it takes me about 1 hour. Dead Cow marks about one third of the way around. (Or, two thirds, depending on your direction).

Sabina and I have been working up to riding the loop. We would ride towards Dead Cow, a little bit further each time. One day we got to Dead Cow, and Sabina was really excited to find old bones strewn all over the place. Finally, we attempted the loop.

We rode to Dead Cow, tied up the horses and had a snack and a drink. The bones were as exciting as ever.

Then we rode down into the valley. Sabina was still enthusiastic, although being in new territory, she didn't like it when I got too far ahead. Tornado kind of lost the flair for riding out, and was convinced we should turn back and ride home. So I was kind of stuck between "Mama, wait for me!!!" and "Mama, keep going!!!".

Eventually, we got into the valley and turned for home. Tornado got a fresh spring in his stride, and my brave little rider girl had to deal with a pony that was too keen. "Mama, he trotted when I didn't ask him to!" All of a sudden I had visions of Tornado galloping off, Sabina wildly holding onto his mane and screaming for him to stop.

I needn't have worried. Half way up Invert track, everyone was out of puff. Time for another break. Except that this time there was no convenient tree to tie the horses to, and I had to stand holding both of them, while brewing up plans for Pete and his chainsaw.

When we mounted up again, Sabina was visibly over it. Luckily, we could see the tree at the top of the track.

"See that tree?", I asked.

The little girl gazed at me vaguely.

"Well, once you get to that tree, you'll be able to see our farm house", I continued.

"Really?", the vagueness vanished, spirits returned and we joyously ventured home.

Gallop

The other day I went riding in the state forest with a friend. She was riding Bess, while I was on Gally. Unbeknown to my friend, the ride was supposed to test Gally. I haven't cantered Gally much, and I have never galloped him. Normally when I ride out, he still looks around too much at everything, to get him into a gallop. The only time he gallops is in the paddock, and then he throws in a couple of pigroots. So my question was - when he is with another horse, and galloping, will he pigroot?

A well trained horse should know the difference between playing in the paddock and being ridden, and they shouldn't pigroot with a rider. But with a green horse ... sometimes they forget.

Luck added another test for me - motorbikes. Not one group, but two! One from the front, one from behind. This had Gally rocking on the spot, but I was able to control him, which boosted my confidence a lot.

On the way home, my friend was in front, and I suggested that we go for a canter/gallop up the hill. She didn't need convincing, and kicked Bess into gear. I clamped my legs on tight, and waited for the pigroot. It never came. Instead, the thoroughbred woke up in Gally, and he galloped. And he raced. And he had to be first. And when he was first, he suddenly started getting all looky again and slowed down to a canter. But then he heard Bess breathing down his neck, and he got going again.

This time I kept the legs on and we cantered all the way to the top of the hill. Even when Bess had long ran out of steam and slowed down to a trot.

Lizard's Lament

When you're training for competitions, it's hard to find the time for a really long relaxing ride. So today, I take Crownie out to do one of my absolute favourite's - Lizard's Lament.

Firstly you head out along the road. It's nice and peaceful. There is an option to head along the ridge track, via the quarry. It's been raining. It's slippery. So I skip that option, and continue along the road. Finally, you hit the bottom of the valley, where the road forks. I take the left fork, and within a few strides I am at the bottom of Lizard's Lament.

Crownie pricks her ears, ready to gallop up the steep hill. The motorbikes have left a few deep grooves in the track, and I hold Crownie at the walk, until we are on smoother ground. Still steep and slippery though. Then I let her take off. We gallop along wildly, enjoying the freedom, wind rushing through Crownie's mane, and whistling through my helmet, trees rushing by on either side.

At the top of the rise we slow to the trot. Lizard's Lament leads us on. It twists and turns gently. We trot, we canter, we gallop. Crownie clears the puddle in her stride. We canter. We canter right to the top of the hill, to the end of the track, into the sunlight.

The sun blinds us, as we dash out of the forest and into the second plantation. Acres of pine trees stand below us, like an army of faithful soldiers. We snort and head home.

Tuck your seat in

A while ago I came up with the concept of tucking your seat in, and I have stuck to this dilligently in 3 point position. And it has improved my riding.

Today I take Crownie for a ride in the state forest. It's an amazing morning (see the photos below), and I am glad to be wearing my winter coat. On the way back we gallop up a track. I really let Crownie take it away, and since she's had extra feed yesterday, she pulls out some speed.

As I am sitting there in two point, feeling the powerful galloping strides, holding my legs still, I think "and what is my seat doing?"

"OMG!!! It's somewhere up in the air, dangling around like a two bun target! Tuck your seat in!", I scream at myself.

I tuck my seat in. Wow! If I have ever had any problems in cross country, or in jumping, this is where they were. My seat dangling uncontrollably out behind me, unbalancing me on take-off and landing.

Working on fitness

In order to take Crownie eventing, she has to be fit. We ride out into the state forest, and walk for almost two hours. Towards the end we do a short trot and canter.

Walking is a great way to get horses fit. It strengthens their joints and ligaments. The fast fitness work can come later. But the walking builds a solid foundation that prevents horses from breaking down.

Later in the day I check her legs for heat and swellings. All good.

Bush ride

A friend who doesn't have much access to trail riding has come up to visit. We go bush for over two hours.

During our first or second trot she points out how the ankles seem to dangle and move around in trot. "Does that happen to you? How do you stop that?", she muses. I look at my ankles bouncing around in rising trot.

The problem has me vexed for most of the ride. I play around with the sweet spot, this way and that. (I haven't actually had time to write about the sweet spot yet, so more about that some other time.) About half way through the ride, I think I have the problem sorted out. Not quite fool proof yet, though. So I keep quiet.

What amazes me more than the problem itself, is my attitude. When I first started riding I was distinctly "told" to try and keep my legs stiller. It took muscle. It was tiring. I gave it up after two strides. I just thought, "yeah, right, whatever, I haven't fallen off so it obviously doesn't matter".

Then along comes a friend, and basically gives me a challenge. "Betch ya can't keep yer ankles still while trotting". Well ... it's still tiring ... I got sucked in.

The ride, by the way, is awesome. We enjoy a few lovely canters, as well as the refreshing showers from the sky that seem to come at just the perfect moment.