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!

Dingo back in work

Dingo has been enjoying a well earned rest for the last 6 weeks - I think it was supposed to be 4 weeks, but, well, it appears that time flies.  He came back into work with a reasonably easy going dressage session.

I have learnt so much in the last six weeks.  I have been trying it all out on Lil, of course, but I was just dying to try it out on Dingo.  To feel what the difference was.  To feel how he would respond.

He responded really well, and some of the learnings certainly apply much more to Dingo than to Lil.  I have also realised - he is much much harder to ride than Lil.  Or rather, he is much harder to ride well; to ride in a way that will score you high marks in a competition.  Timing, balance and precision is everything with this little pony.  All while staying totally calm and relaxed of course!

Lil's lesson with Ron

Windsor Farm organised Ron Patterson to come out for a couple of days, and I grabbed the opportunity to have a Dressage lesson on Lil.

I walked into the arena, and from the time that he shook my hand I knew we were going to get on like a house on fire.

There were a few things that stood out about Ron.  Firstly, he was prepared.  All sorts of poles and blocks were lying on the ground, setting out a multitude of different exercises.  Secondly, he explained the training scale he works with - not in so much detail that you start yawning - and pointed out where on that scale we were.  Finally, he made it clear what the rider's body needs to do.

What I really liked is the exercises.  We were never on the track.  We were never on a 20m circle at A, we were never doing a serpentine, or a change across the long diagonal.  It made me realise just how boring and limited my daily training is!

He had us doing straight lines, and gentle curves, he had as circling around a pole, and between poles, he had us changing rein from one pole to the next, or from one block to the next.  It kept our minds very active.

Ron had a great focus on the rider's position.  He was mindful that you were able to move bits of your body independently.  He wanted you to be as skillful on the left as you were on the right.  And, best of all, when your horse wasn't travelling well, he would ask you to shift your body in some way, and all of a sudden, presto, there was a lot more fluidity in your horse's movement.

He was the first Dressage instructor to tell me to lean forward - and this was probably my favourite "take away" from the lesson.  At the time, Lil was trotting very slowly.  I was pushing with the leg, but it felt like getting blood from a stone.  Then Ron said "lean forward".  Catiously, I leant forward a hair.  "Lean forward", called Ron.  I leant forward another little bit.  "Really lean forward", called Ron.  Ok, I leant forward, pretty much going into forward seat.  Lil surged forward with alactrity.  "See, you'd got behind the horse, and you felt very heavy to her.  Now you're over her centre of gravity, and she can go forward again.  Good", commented Ron.  Wow.  "Ah-ha" moment.  It's not so much about getting your shoulders forward, but getting your seat forward in the saddle.  Ron calls it "sitting on the edge of your seat".  Nice.

I just loved the lesson, and felt very happy with my horse's progress, I felt I had learnt a lot, and best of all, I felt I could go home and I knew what to practice.  I can't wait for Ron to come back again.

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.

The Cheeky Pony

Remember my entry about the "Good Horse"?  Well now, for contrast we have the "Cheeky Pony".

I put Bess and Dingo out onto the driveway.  The driveway has the front gate, which gives access from the road onto our property, and the garden gate, which allows access to the garden around the house.

Normally I don't shut either gate, and I generally don't have a problem with horses wandering off the property, although they do wander into the garden where the grass is even sweeter.  However, recently, Dingo has been sneaking into the garden at a gallop, so I closed the garden gate.

When I walked back out to check on them, I saw Bess grazing on the driveway, very close to the front gate, and lo and behold, Dingo was standing on alert out the front of the property.  Yes - on the shoulder of the road.  (It's a very quiet, no through road.)

So, keeping calm, and trying to amble, rather than walk purposefully, headstall in hand, I made my way towards the two horses.  Dingo saw me coming, perhaps Bess did too, although she kept munching the grass without interruption.

Dingo knew he shouldn't be out there.  He pricked his ears and trotted back to Bess.  "Oh, phew!", I thought.  "Good pony."  But, cheekiness was written all over his face "quick she's coming, we've got to go now" he said to Bess, took two bites of grass, and headed back out of the gate.

Bess took another two munches of grass, pricked her ears, and slowly, but surely followed Dingo.  Dingo, feeling confident now that he had "a following", trotted with alacrity towards the sunset.  My heart sunk.  The cheeky pony!  Not only does he have the cheek to run out the front gate, but he's got accomplices!  Well, an accomplice.

By now, my friendly amble had changed to a very purposeful march, and my hand had tightened around that headstall.  Luckily, Bess took a few steps, then put her head down to munch the grass.  I put the headstall around her, gave Dingo one disgusted look, and walked Bess back onto our land.

Dingo, judging that the game was over, trotted back, following Bess through the gate.  Needless to say, the gate was then shut.

Update on Princess Lil

On Saturday I hopped on Lil to do some Dressage training, and she had so much forward that I considered whether I should feed her less.  It was a good kind of forward, but you don't want it to go too far especially when you train in a seven acre paddock.

She felt lovely and strong through the back, and we were actually able to canter within a 20m x 60m arena.

With some apprehension, I fed her her normal fare that afternoon.

On Sunday, she felt like a flat balloon.  That forward?  It was all gone.  Her back still felt strong-ish, although she did trip a couple of times.

So I think I might try feeding her more.  On the up side, I think her back is getting stronger, so the type of training I am doing is working.

Elastic Contact

In the recent months, as a result of a few dressage lessons, I have discovered what I would call "elastic contact".

It's a bit like a "push-me-pull-you" game that your horse's mouth plays with your hands.  Notice the wording here.  It's not "your hands play with your horse's mouth".  It's "your horse's mouth plays with your hands".  Because that's the truth of it, that while the contact on the reins is initiated by your hands, the game is activated by your horse.  More about that in a minute.

It feels like your reins have suddenly got a section of elastic band in them, and they stretch and compress as your horse ambles happily along.  You can't use this contact for balancing though - it would be like trying to balance using a rubber band - it will just stretch.  But, you can "play" a bit with this contact, driving more horse into it, or stretching it back towards you to slow down.

It feels like the ultimate connection with your horse.  Initially it can be fairly heavy handed, like an old rusted spring, but as you get better at it, and your horse trusts you more, it should become lighter and softer.

Have I sold you on the concept yet?

Now, back to initiating this "game" with your horse.  Like I said - you, the rider, initiates it by picking up the reins and creating a contact.  Your horse then chooses to either brace against you, back off the bit, or to play the game.  Naturally, you want the latter.

Dingo braces against you (and generally races off into the sunset).  Lilly tends to back off.

The trick with Dingo, is to obtain a contact without allowing him to brace, and then to ask for another 4 millimetres of contact, and then release about 2 millimetres of contact, all the while holding perfect balance with your body, and keeping a really quiet leg.  Phew!  Yes, not a small achievement.

The trick with Lilly is to send her for a solid fast canter up the hill, with lots of half halts, good or bad, doesn't matter.  Then walk back down the hill to the arena, and ask for trot.  Presto.  Elastic contact every time.  Just like magic - as long as you can handle the fast canter.

The Good Horse

Often we allow the horses to graze on the driveway.  The grass is longer and "cleaner" there.  Usually we leave two horses in the paddock, and allow two to graze the driveway.  When they graze in the driveway they also have access to the hay shed, and to the machinery shed, where I make up their feed.  The machinery shed has doors so they can't wander in there uninvited - as long as someone has closed the doors.

The other day, Bess and Lil were grazing the driveway, and I went into the shed to make up their feeds.  Within seconds I could hear impatient hoof beats on the gravel outside the shed.  I poked my nose outside, and sure enough, there was Bess standing in the gravel, right outside the machinery shed.  But where was the "ever hungry" Lil?

Well there she was, standing in the yard (which was open), in the exact spot where I normally feed her.  Not pawing, not shaking her head, not walking impatiently around, but standing stock still waiting for her food to come.

Now, that is a good horse!

Cross Country lesson at Windsor Park

Recently I took Dingo to a cross country lesson with Ebony Tucker at Windsor Park.

It's a wonderful day, slightly overcast, with a cool-ish breeze.  Perfect for cross country schooling.  We head out to the back paddock where the cross country course is, and I start an extensive monologue on where we are at, how we got there, where we are heading.

The first thing I notice about Ebony is that she listens.  She is genuinely interested in what I think my problems are, and she takes my goals seriously.  Then she gets me to do some trot and canter to warm up.  Before I have the chance to complete one circle Ebony has linked what I said, with what is happening on the ground, and pulls me up.

"Ok, he tends to rush.  Every time he rushes off like that, I want you to make a downward transition of some sort", she instructs.  I go off in trot on my circle again, keeping what she said in mind.  "Ok, he rushed off there, make a transition!", calls out Ebony.  Ooops.  I suddenly realise that I am quite unaware when my pony rushes off.  I only notice it when he has rushed off for perhaps the fourth time in a row, and suddenly we're in canter.  Big "Aha" moment.

So we work on not allowing Dingo to rush off, and lo and behold, in about five minutes, we have him working beautifully on a nice relaxed contact and an even tempo.

We do this in both trot and canter, then ask the pony to go over a tiny log.  The rushing returns with a vengence.  We work with half halts in the approach to the log and succeed in the jump becoming nice and relaxed.  Then we move onto a bigger jump - like a picnic table made out of logs.  You guessed it, more rushing.

Here, Ebony takes a stance about two strides away from the jump, and says "I want you to approach in trot, then stop here."  The first try is a total failure.  We stop right at the jump!  This is so not what I wanted.  Ebony remains calm.  "Don't let him turn away.  Just stand there.  Back him up.  Now trot on and jump it."  Gulp.  I follow the instructions, and Dingo jumps.  Phew!  We do this a few times, a fair few times, and it becomes quite good, although not perfect.

Then we move onto water, banks, other logs, you name it.  At every jump Ebony stresses the importance of Dingo not rushing.  She gets me to do things at walk, then at trot, then at canter.  She stresses the importance of me not getting ahead, not getting anxious.  As we do the exercises, my confidence grows, I relax, Dingo slows down, it all starts to flow.  Dingo becomes a totally maneuverable pony, and I am having an absolute ball.  Oh this is what it should feel like!

I depart a very happy camper, and can't wait to come back again.  I guess spending money on rugs and other sundry items will just have to wait!

In The Judge's Seat

Recently my club held a Dressage competition.  I didn't take part in the competition so I offered to do some pencilling for a Dressage judge.  I did it out of pure desire to help and volunteer, because I don't get to volunteer much on other occasions.  I learnt far more than I had bargained for.

The judge I was pencilling for was judging grade 4 HRCAV - my own level.  I didn't get to see much of the dressage tests.  I found I really didn't need to see much to understand the comments.  Keeping up with the writing wasn't too bad, and I got better at the shorthand towards the end.  We were judging for supposedly 4 hours.  When I first heard this I groaned - at home, where no one could hear.  But the time just flew!

We were given a delicious morning tea, and a top up of coffee.  And as a additional bonus, the judge I was pencilling for was very funny. 

Here are the most important lessons I've learnt.

The Dressage Judge is not out to get you.  Really?!  OMG, I thought she was.  Most of the time when your pony is misbehaving she is there barracking for you!

The Dressage Judge knows about horses.  No way?  Who would have thought?  She knows that they are flighty animals, and that sometimes you are doing a sensational job just executing the movements.  She just wishes you would take a breath and relax.  Because then the horse will travel better.

Consistency.  Most of us lack consistency.  We need to be there, balancing our horse between hand and leg every single stride, for the entire duration of the test.  Do I need to repeat that in capitals?  Medium walk is not an opportunity to have a rest.  And the horse needs more balancing in the corners.

Forward.  The horse must be going forward - but not on the forehand.  It cannot feel like it's about to fall out of the canter back into trot.  It cannot feel like it would rather walk than trot.  The rider must create forward.  Even at the walk.  Even at the long rein walk.

Precision.  Your test must be precise.  So if it says transition from canter to trot between B and M that means somewhere about 6m after B, but before M.  It does not mean you can fall out of the canter at B.

Readiness.  If your horse is clearly not ready to compete, due to lack of experience, then think carefully whether you need to bother the judge with your horse seriously going sideways down the centerline and doing unscripted pirouttes.  It is very difficult to judge (and pencil for) such a test.  Wouldn't it be better for you, for the horse, and for your wallet to come to the competition, warm up, and ride quietly in the arena during breaks?  Without actually taking part of the competition?

And finally - do some pencilling.  You'll actually start understanding what the judge was really talking about in all those comments on your last test.

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.

Saving Crownie

I've been busy.  Not riding.  Trying to save my horse.  My husband's horse.  Crownie.

She hasn't looked "right" for about a year now.  But with my own recovery from illness, I haven't had enough energy to do much more than standard care.  This year, in about April I got more serious though.

First, I ensured her diet was sufficient, and full of the right minerals.  But she did not improve.  Her worming program and teeth were up to date.

Then when she got what looked like an abcess in her eye, I called the vet out.  We looked at everything.  We reviewed her diet.  The vet checked her teeth.  We took bloods.  We took poo samples.  The vet left me with an oinment for her eyes.

Everything came back clear.  The bloods were excellent, except for low protein content.  The poo came back clear - that's right, no worms at all!

The eye ointment helped a bit, but the swelling around the eye remained.

I started reading.  Was it a Gutteral Puch infection?  Could it be Crohn's disease?  Or were her tear ducts simply blocked?

Then I started injecting her with vitamins.  25ml of vitamin C, 10ml of B complex, 10ml of vitamin B12 and 10ml of VAM.  I wanted to inject her with 10ml of B15 (DADA) as well, but this was very hard to get hold of.  That's a lot of needle pricks per day.  And on a poorly muscled horse you soon start running out of neck room.

I also washed out her eyes daily.  The whole routine took me about 1 hour.  I couldn't do it every day, but I did it about 4 to 5 days per week.

At night I paddocked her in the only paddock that has a stable.  And during the daytime I allowed her to graze the fresh, clean grass along the driveway.

After four weeks I called the vet out again.  He looked at her eyes, then started feeling further down her body.  Under her jaw, at her chest, in her groin.  In her groin?!  Panic!  He was checking her lymphatic system.  Finally, he called me over, and asked me to have a feel of a lump on her chest.  A lymph node.  It was enlarged.  Very enlarged.  "I think it's Cancer", he said.

I can't say that I panicked, or felt like crying, or felt gutted.  I had suspected as much.  And so, as much as I have tried, I may not be able to save Crownie.  There is only one way out of life for all of us, and Crownie isn't "young" any more.  She will be 20 in November.  Of course, many horses last longer than that, but she always seemed more fragile.  Even her coat was always softer than that of other horses, much to the delight of people who patted her.

For the time being I'll keep my routine of paddocking and feeding, although I will probably reduce the injections to once per week.  As my horses come back into work, I just won't have the time to do daily injections, and Crownie's a bit sick of them too.

When she is grazing the driveway she has direct access to the shed where I make up the horses' feed.  It is beautiful to be in the shed measuring out oaten and lucerne chaff, and to hear the click click of Crownie's shoes on the gravel as she comes to investigate.  It's priceless to hear her sniff the air as she approaches the shed door, and then to see the soft black nostrils poke gently through the doorway.

Friends of Melton Horse Trials

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dressage lesson

I have planned a dressage lesson for Dingo for the last three months.  And this month is coming to an end, and I still haven't had this planned lesson.  So I have finally put my foot down and rang my instructor and finally had the lesson.

Organising a dressage lesson at the moment is no simple task.  My arenas are out of action.  My instructor has an arena, but her parking area is out of action.  The pony club has an arena, but I don't have a key ... yet.  The other pony club is currently closed to the public.  Fortunately, there is a third pony club, and we were able to use their arena.  Phew.

Since the last dressage lesson, which was in April, I have diligently been practicing the rider balancing exercises, and I've been making outstanding progress.  Even if I do say so myself.  I thought I had mastered this position thing.

My instructor took one look at my progress, and without another word, proceeded to fix the next part of my position.  Yes, there is more.  When I quizzed her about it, she smiled and said that once I master the current exercises, then there is more still!

As she corrected my position, verbally prodding here, there and everywhere, Dingo relaxed, lowered his head, and added some spring to his stride.  The improvement was just amazing.  I can fully appreciate that a horse is able to work better for a more balanced rider, but the amount of difference these minute adjustments made was just remarkable.

My instructor did point out though that, as I have already noticed, Dingo is a sensitive horse, and such minute changes will feel really important to him.

Prior to having the lesson, I was agonising whether to invest in the dressage lesson, or in a cross country training session.  I only had the time and money to do one.  In this particular case, the dressage lesson was definitely the right choice, and it will in fact improve my cross country more than a cross country session would have.

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.

Teddy and the cows

I brought Teddy in to change his rug.  The cows were in the paddock behind him, and managed to crowd at the fence, thinking that I might give them something yummy.  With all this commotion behind him, Teddy just couldn't stand still.  And no, I wasn't able to change his rug.

So, on that occasion, he went back out into his paddock.  I brought him back in another time, changed his rug, and both he and Bess went out into the paddock with the cows.

In the evening, when the horses got fed, the cows started jostling with each other, head butting, pig rooting and jumping about.

Teddy took his head out of his feed bucket, and gaped at the cows.  Then he quickly galloped over to Bess and hid behind her.

Welcome Teddy

We have a new addition at the farm - a horse called Teddy.  A friend has decided to agist him with us, while she is unavailable to ride him.  In the meantime I am allowed to ride him.  With Lilly sill out on injury leave, and Dingo about to go out for his annual holiday, Teddy's arrival is perfect.

I picked him up from Yarrambat the other day.  Well, he loaded onto the float fine, but then rocked the float, and neighed for a decent hour of the two hour trip.  Then, he didn't know how to back off.

When I did manage to get him off the float, he stood tall, all 16.2hh of him, and shivered in his boots, wondering where in the world he was.  I felt very insignificant.  But, I did manage to worm him and put him in the paddock.

Then, I brought him a paddock mate - Bess looked like she was volunteering.  Well, did she take a liking to him.  I've never seen anything like it.  It's the middle of winter, and she was acting like a filly in spring time.

Wet arenas

It's been raining so much that both of my arenas are unusable.  (Both arenas are bits of paddock.)  I have actually officially stopped using the top arena.

All my jumps have been moved down to the bottom arena, and I still do use it, although sparingly.  Yes, it does wreck the arena surface when I use it, but quite frankly that arena is sufficiently not smooth, that I'm willing to put in a few more divits.

Just to give the right picture - from far away, the arena looks flat.  But when I try to set up jumps on it I struggle to make the wings stand up.  Where I use tyres as wings, I struggle to stop the poles rolling off the tyres.  Oh such fun.

The lack of smoothness alone, has an interesting side effect though.  If your horse is not travelling properly, then he keeps tripping.  Whereas, when he is stepping underneath himself, everything is fine.  The wetness just exaggerates that effect, and also makes it much harder work for your horse.  A bit like running in deep sand.

This has left me totally exasperated at times, but obviously has also improved the quality of my riding.  I do have to remember that the soft surface potentially makes the work harder for the horse, and so the sessions may need to be shorter, and the jumps a hole lower.

Like I said though, the work leaves divits in the arena.  It might be time to enquire with some neighbours whether I can use their arena.  The closest neighbour with an arena is more than 2km away.

The trouble with going to Melton

I've entered Dingo into the Friends of Melton Horse Trials, which, as you would expect, is held in Melton.  The problem with going to Melton is this. 

A few years ago, I drew an approximate circle around our farm, and looked at what venues and events were within that circle.  Initially, that circle was quite small, and only incorporated venues about one hour away.  Over time, that circle has grown somewhat bigger, but it still doesn't incorporate Melton.

By daring to go as far as Melton, that circle will expand considerably.  And either, I will come back thinking "that was exhausting, I'm never doing that again", or I will come back thinking "wow, what a hoot!" and forget about the distance travelled.

And the problem with that is, that I will be more likely to do more events, which are further away, and will keep me away from home.

Phoenix Short Course Horse Trials

We celebrated Mothers' Day yesterday, and today I took both horses to the Phoenix Short Course Horse Trials.

The start was ominous.  First of all, the cable that attaches the car electrics to the float electrics went missing.  I blamed its absence on my poor unsuspecting husband.  He blamed it on the men that serviced the car.  I saw it as a great excuse not to go.  My husband said "drive without it".  The cable was found.

Then the weather.  Just as I was pur pur purring up the last bit of the divide between Noojee and Powelltown, it started to pour.  And I mean, pour.  Sheets of rain.  Zero visibility.  Cats and dogs.  Kangaroos and wombats.  It poured.  My feelings sank to their lowest yet, and I really wondered what in the world I was doing out here.

Finally, full of retrospection, I arrived at the competition, and the elderly man at the gate asked with a smile "Have you come to win?".  "Young man," I replied, "I have every intention of winning".

I got the horses off the float, registered, showed my cards, helmet, crop, medical arm band and whatever else was required, and proceeded to walk the course.  A woman joined me, and I was glad to have company.  I always talk when I walk the course, so at least I would be talking to her, and not looking like I was going mad.

Now I will be very honest.  I was expecting a couple of piddly logs, maybe a half-baked water jump, and nothing more.  The reality was quite a challenging little course with a train crossing, a flower bed, a gate, a house (yes, blue walls, windows, doors, red roof and all ... just scaled down), and, what I believed to be the "showpiece of the course", a crate full of fresh, green, apples.

Of course, the weather was still being cheeky and it actually hailed while we were walking the course.

Dingo was scheduled to go first and I was very pleased to see that he settled down in the warm up.  In the dressage test, he almost seemed bored.  But that all changed when I showed him a warm up jump.  Then, off we went.  Well he was a good sport, wondering why we couldn't go faster, getting more worried about the jump judges than the jumps, and questioning me when jumping the rail crossing, and of course, the apple crate.  The showjumping course was a breeze, and as far as I could tell, we made good time.

Next up was Lil.  She sweated up early in her warm-up and I wasn't sure how much to walk her, and how much to trot her.  So I walked her for a while.  When we went back into trot she was visibly stiff on the right rein.  I kept her trotting, and the stiffness loosened up.  She did a calm dressage test, and I was happy.  Then we did our jumping warm-up and off we went, across country.  Lil's attitude was fantastic, and she really got quite a nice rhythm going.  Of course she gave the apple crate a massive look, and then a huge leap.  She also got a good look at the house with the red roof, but it wasn't the house that was the issue.  It was the churned up clay leading into the house jump.  We went clear, and she also made good time.

When the results were posted up, I couldn't believe my eyes.  Dingo had come first and Lilly came second.  I wondered whether the man at the entrance was interested in knowing?

Dingo got a really good dressage mark and then only had 7 time faults (in the XC and SJ, combined).  Lilly's dressage test was poorer, and she had 8 time faults.  All the other competitors had far more time faults.  I really wanted to jump up and down and scream, but I tried really hard to be the "good winner" and just sit there looking "wise".

I received a sash for each placing, as well as a little hamper (which included chocolates, yes!) for first place, and a bottle of wine for second place.  I felt very special.

In the end the weather was more of a nuisance to the organisers (and the jumps judges) than the competitors and the horses.  The format - short course - ran really well, and I think it should be adopted more often for the lower levels.  The format also made it very easy to compete with two horses, and I was able to manage really well just by myself.

Just before I got Lilly on the float she managed to kick out, and hurt her frog rather badly.  But that's a story for another post.  I'll just add that those chocolates might be really useful.

Cross Country Training

Today I went cross country training with both horses at one of our local cross country courses.

I had been here with Dingo in the past, but it was Lilly's first time.  Well she did wonder whether I really really wanted her to jump all these weird looking obstacles.  But I very quickly managed to work out that a simple flick with the whip, which more often than not hit my riding boot and made more sound than anything else, was enough to convince Lil that forwards, and preferably in a straight line and with some bascule, was the only way to go.

I always try to have someone along when training cross country, and today was no different.  My friend even managed to take a lovely snap of Lil and I - it's blurry because we were just going so fast.  ;)

Once I had cooled off after riding Lil, it was Dingo's turn.  I gave him a quick warm up and then off we went.  While with Lil I made her jump each jump about 4 or 5 times, there was no need for this with Dingo.  We still repeated some jumps, but the pony was a cross country machine.  He even trotted with pleasure through the water.  I also felt my seat improve with every jump, which means that Dingo's neck no longer feels dangerously short.