22/9/12 – A Lucky Experience

22/9/12 – A Lucky Experience

I got to the yard today, said hello to the horses, and spent the wait chatting with a woman going trekking. Yammering away, the time went by quickly, and we were called into the office before we knew it.  The YO was in control of the book today, and asked who I usually rode: I quickly gave a list of names, omitting Ransom and adding Starsky as I usually do, even though strictly speaking I’ve not ridden him yet. Well, this morning I finally got Hutch’s half brother and partner in crime – 18hh of steely dappled grey Friesian X. I was excited!

L is by far and away my favourite hack leader, and after I’d mounted, I saw her and A with riding hats on. One would be taking the trek, the other the hack. I asked if L was taking us hacking, she said yes, and I literally shouted “WOOHOO!” I hadn’t realised just how loudly I’d done it until the echo came back to me off the stable block. No wonder there was tittering when I did it! YO’s daughter, who also works and competes from the yard, was saying to L “Oh: I guess you’re loved then!” Well, I was pleased and I didn’t care who knew it! There was also only one other person on the hack: a teen girl on Honey, Frankie’s featherless double J

L mounted up on what looked to me like a 16hh bay TB. I had no idea who it was, and she quickly responded: “Oh, this is Lucky!” That immediately struck fear and excitement into me: L is the ONLY person on the yard who’s prepared to hack Lucky out. He gallops everywhere: collected canter is not an option. He’s like a car that goes from 0-60mph in seconds!  My fellow Sunday rider R. had previously told me about an L hack on Lucky I missed out on in July: L was on Lucky, R was on Robbie (very speedy and his favourite horse) and apparently it was being on a race track all the way. I was excited that I was going to have the ‘Lucky experience’, and while my first choices today were Corrie or Hutch, I was glad to be on a horse that I felt I partially knew, as I’d seen him out with our ride before and knew from Hutch that I could ride such big paces.

The morning was beautiful. I’d left the house and it was cold, as there’s a nip in the air in the morning and evenings at the moment. However, when I was at the yard, the sun really got up, and because we’ve not quite changed seasons yet, the sun still succeeded in warming the air when it rose. We crossed the river, with the sun glaring off it, having been able to leave our jackets on the yard thanks to the heat. It was hard to believe that those who’d driven to the yard had needed to de-ice their windscreens first!

A video of the river-crossing the riverside. (The rest of the hack was too fast, and I was too busy making the most of L’s private attention to film anything else):

http://youtu.be/HxeI7G-VMLI

We didn’t trot along the riverside as we usually do, but instead had our first trot on the road to the woods. I’d been so busy chatting to L, that I hadn’t really taken Starsky in during the walking and chatting as I usually do on a new mount. I felt like I knew him! He sprung into life in that first trot, and reminded me of Hutch on the days he’s fresh and keen; a similar sized pace and rhythm, and fairly damn comfy.

The canter hill came up quickly. L halted Lucky to tell us what was happening next, but Lucky doesn’t do standing still. He was dancing and snorting, knowing absolutely what was about to happen. No sooner had she done talking, than L and Lucky were off. I immediately stood out of Starsky’s saddle as I knew there’d be no transitioning up through the gears: he literally leapt into action, and I was glad I was in the two-point seat when it happened! Starsky galloped the whole way up the hill: not like the less fit Hutch, that canters 80% before he slows and bellows. It was ridiculously fast too: much faster than I’d expected or ever experienced before. I felt secure enough though: there really is no better way to ease into galloping a new horse or getting used to galloping itself than doing it uphill! Starsky was knackered at the top though, and blew for several minutes afterwards, bless him.

Once we got onto the level, I told L how fast that felt. “Oh, that’s nothing: the rest of the stretches are pretty much flat, so will be much faster!” I felt a feeling I’d never felt before: joy at that fact that I had a Jesus strap in the form of Starsky’s martingale! (though, to be more accurate, I think I should name it an exclamatory “F**king hell!” strap). I have genuinely never ridden so fast in my life before, and while two pinky fingers under a strap doesn’t do much in the grand scheme of things, it provide a little psychological blanket. Odd, because I’d never ever used a Jesus strap before, and never got the appeal of something so far in front of the saddle to help you stay on. Usually sitting back’s where you want to be, but in the light seat, I can entirely see the value of it!

So, off we popped into the wooded, common-like area where the majority of the canter stretches are. Lucky wouldn’t go around the first corner, and napped so far backwards he was pretty much in a hedge. I offered L my stick, but apparently Lucky craps himself at the sight of one. Believe you me, that horse does not need any more speed or any more nervous energy! lol.

Anyhow, once we’d turned the corner, Lucky took the lead and L asked if we were happy to canter. CANTER MY BLOODY ARSE is all I can say! Lucky went from dancing jog to gallop in one stride, kicking loads dirt into my face and down my cleavage, and I saw all four soles of his hooves in that one move. Starsky followed: we did a halt to gallop transition (I didn’t know it was possible, and I don’t think the official aids are take the light seat, put fingers under Jesus strap, and inwardly pray to yourself).  I’ll be honest: such a huge and fast lurch forward unnerved me a bit, and while I’d gone with it entirely and was balancing perfectly on Starsky I had the thought “Jesus, if I lost a stirrup now, I could seriously hospitalise myself falling at this speed!” The stretch was just long enough for me to bat that out of my head though, and feel glued. L had known today’s pace, so had stopped us to make sure we were 100% happy before the ‘canter’ work began. This stretch ended nicely too, with much smoother transitions-down compared to the G-force lurches on the way up. I wasn’t afraid to tell L though that I was glad of the Jesus strap, and would be using the rest of the way! She made me feel better mind, and told me that she always does as an insurance policy when at that speed, and it’s all the more important when on Common Rides. Since coming home, I’ve found photos of riders using it while galloping him across stubble fields on even the most difficult Common Rides. Phew! lol.

I don’t remember how many stretches we did, as it’s all a blur of adrenaline, but the last one we did before crossing the viaduct was the slightly uphill run, with the lake of a puddle in the middle. Last week we had to slow down at it and go left in trot for Sophie-Loaf, in case she freaked out. L said she’d been through it earlier in the week, so it was fine to go around or through it whatever way we wanted. I said at that speed, Starsky might end up making the choice, but I always prefer to go around it as the minimises the risk of jumping it, slipping or bogging down a bit. Lucky started going nuts, and sort of went up rather than forward as L hadn’t released him yet. That was enough to set Starsky off though, so we leapt from halt to gallop again, with Lucky not going straight in front but had pirouetted off to the side. I thought for a few seconds that I was going to end up being lead horse for this gallop, which L doesn’t mind if it’s safer than holding back and she knows you’ll stop at the right place, but Lucky gathered himself up and got ahead, with Starsky racing him every bit of the way! 

Before I knew it, we’d eaten up half the stretch, and puddle/lake was in front of us. As Lucky had gone left, Starsky went right in effort to get past him. I was happy not to steer as Starsky made his decision early, so moved over at a gentle angle without any motorbiking or suddenness. If he’d started moving a second later, I would have let go of the martingale to free my hands up properly to steer.  Still, we made it though the right-hand side, and despite a comedy duck at the end for a big branch, the gallop continued. In fact, the end of the stretch narrows and has a paving type stone with its corner sticking out on the narrow ascent to the flat. I always at least trot, if not walk up it: Lucky had cantered it, so Starsky did too, but with what seemed like freakily expressive collected strides given how fast we’d just gone. Once up top, the horses immediately relaxed and got their breath back on the buckle. All that adrenaline, and they went back to calmness when they knew the fun was over for a little while J

On Hutch and Corrie, their gallops are smooth and while they don’t feel fast as their feet don’t hit the ground that often, they’re covering ground with their stride, so it has a nice balance of feeling safe and comfortable but still being quick. Starsky however is by far the fastest horse I have ever galloped: never in my life have I gone that fast outside of a motorised vehicle! Starsky not only has reach, but his hooves feel like they’re constantly hitting the ground again to power off, and the engine in his backend is incredible. L said that, while most folk wouldn’t believe it as he’s not a TB-type, Starsky’s actually one of the fastest horses on the yard, especially when on Common Rides. I tell you what, I certainly believed it! Starsky has a 6^th gear (as does Lucky, and I know Ransom does too, even though I didn’t use it when I took him out); they are the powerful, bit scary but rather fun Ferraris/Lambos etc. Hutch and Corrie are more like Jaguars or Mercedes: still an impressive amount of oomph, but with smoothness, comfort and using the regular 5 gears rather than 6!

 I explained to L that I’d really enjoyed the rush, but quite honestly that it had rattled my nerves a bit at first, and while I felt good galloping, I hadn’t got used to the lurching into action like that. She told me that a Common Ride is at least this fast if not more; you typically don’t have transitions then either because soon as you get through the gate safely and onto a field for example, your horse gets going along with the rest.  I explained that I’m a pretty confident rider, and clearly my balance is grand: I was fully capable of going with Starsky when he tore off from a standstill each time, and never felt wobbly or insecure at speed. I also thanked her for making me realise just how much work at the gallop I need before doing my first Common Ride next summer (all being well), and she said one of the things she likes about me is that I have a realistic appreciation of what I can do and what my limitations are. She said it’s just inexperience on such a fast horse I was lacking but she was confident that all I need is a bit of practice going so fast, and if I’m happy to, she’d really like to take me into a field sometime so I could get an appreciation of the maximum speed and how a Common Ride feels!

We talked for ages about my aim to do at least one of the easier Common Rides next year. She also asked me who I was thinking of for my first Common Ride. I said I’d thought Frankie might be a bit old and small to take my weight for so many hours riding even though I like and know her, and L confirmed that Frankie doesn’t do Common Rides. After the Turbo Cob, I knew Hutch the best as a riding horse and probably favoured him, but loved Corrie and Hugo after one ride each on them. To be honest, when I saw the ride come up the Royal Mile, I also thought I’d look best on Hutch or Corrie, as Hutch always stands out, but all the big greys on the day did, even those not in the leading flag-bearing party. L said Hugo was a flying machine on a Common Ride, so he would probably not be a great choice for my first time. He’d been really contained on my hack with M: confirmation that as lovely a person as she is, M’s a slow and boring ride leader!  She told me that Hutch and Corrie were perfect choices for me, and she was confident that both of them would look after me if I was feeling a bit nervous on the day. I was delighted to hear that, but was worried that the men got all the big horses, as many tall, stocky men rode, and needed the tall weight-bearers, whereas at 5ft 6, I can ride a smaller horse. She said I’m a paying customer, that booking a big horse wasn’t a problem as they’d so many different types to go around, and to list both Hutch and Corrie as 1^st and 2^nd choice, so the YO could always work around what horses are requested, if any of them get lame before the big day and so on. That settled me quite a bit, and made me smile J

The road work was a bit more entertaining than usual with a spooky horse. Starsky had napped on the way into the woodland before the first canter, as a cut log of about 1ft long was on the ground. He thought it was going to eat him, poor chap! He’d been fine since, but when we were going through the town, he caught a late glimpse of a skip on someone’s driveway and leapt sideways onto the middle of the road. I was glad there were no cars coming in either direction as we were in prime position to get hit by either! I was happy that I’d been glued to his saddle the whole time though, and I rode him positively so he soon went onwards.  He would later however spook at a parked red car (but not parked cars in any other colour, and never at any of the moving ones coming towards him or past him from behind), own shadow, a stone mounting block, a bird (fair enough – it moved suddenly and noisily) and something I didn’t see at all. He wasn’t so spooky that it ever made me feel insecure in the saddle, or made me nervous to ride him, but it was enough to called him a “buck eejit”, and laugh at his shying and leaping. He always moved on though, and I always reassured him he’d live to fight another day. Silly horse!

The park through the Glen was sadly closed today, for reasons I couldn’t work out. We then went the road-work way to the railway line and I was honest with L: I was a bit nervous about the railway line as when quiet, it’s a flat-out gallop, and I was finding it difficult to fathom that we could be going faster than we did on all of the previous ‘canter’ stretches. I also told her before she could reply that I was, of course, being silly: if I could ride Starsky on uneven ground with giant puddles and bending pathways, this flat, straight run with no big branches should be easy peasy. She seconded my rationale that this bit’s easy, told me I’d done great on a fast horse I didn’t know that was trying to race Lucky, and that those nerves would dissolve with a bit more practice. I knew she was right, but while I’d kept my nerves on Ransom about that stretch to myself when I rode him, I felt that I could open up to L as she cares about her riders, she knows me fairly well now, and she wouldn’t judge me for sharing the fact that I get nervous sometimes.

We got onto the railway line eventually, but there were two sets of dog walkers on it, so we had to walk under the first bridge and on for a while. That was not especially enjoyable: Lucky was desperate to gallop off, dancing and canter pirouetting a lot, and Starsky was ready to gallop off into the horizon too. L was getting to the point where she said she’d take us somewhere else to get a good fast run instead, but when we met the 2^nd dog and his owner on the corner, we could see far ahead was clear.  I don’t know if it’s because you often meet people on this path, or if L was nursing my silly anxieties, but we had an actual walk-to-canter transition here, not a mad leap straight into a gallop. I then felt something I hadn’t quite expectged… Disappointment! I was disappointed that we were cantering and not galloping: while it had challenged my nerves, I’d been getting on well and was high on the buzz! Just as we were heading through the second tunnel though, L opened Lucky up more and off we went. Galloping along there on such a fast horse was easy peasy: the speed and balance were no different to tackle than with a slower horse. I really had been right: if I manage such a fast gallop starting with a sudden lurch, dodging puddles and branches, and on bending paths, going straight and flat was a piece of cake!

While the railway line continues on for quite some time until we reach a main road, the usual stopping point is a few minutes walk from the end. We didn’t stop there this time though! At the usual place to start slowing, L put her hand up, and we got the horses back into canter. Lucky would not stop cantering though, so I kept Starsky in the canter rather than a trot. I gave a go at sitting to it as well, and I managed it! On my last two hacks on Starsky and Hutch, I’ve noticed the difference Pilates has made to my riding. With my back in its natural position (I’ve quite bad lordosis), even the brothers’ big walks move my pelvis so far back and forth, that it just reaches the point where the arching is too much on the backstroke (ie, when the walk moves my hips back and not forwards, I feel my lower back reach its elastic limit). When I engage my core and correct my lordosis however (just as Heather Moffat says you must to ride softly and go with a horse), my spine can flex, and in that supple state, I can go with the movement more and feel no discomfort. I’d felt it work in the trot and walk before, but now I felt it in the canter: with my core engaged and spine more neutral, I could absorb Starsky’s big movement and keep my bum in the saddle. Hurray!

Apart from some trot schooling that I did with L alongside Lucky (she called me up beside her anytime the path suited, which was fab), the rest of the ride was fairly quiet. We talked about schooling on hacks, and I said how it’s really the best way to work on the canter: you can collect in a school, but in true extension, you run out of space in no time. Also, being able to do so is vital for controlling the horse, especially if jumping or more relevantly for my I hope, to have control on a Common Ride. She told me about some collection-extension schooling she’s done on hacks with some of my Sunday friends, so hopefully we’ll get to do that soon. She even gave me some tips for getting Hutch off the forehand if he’s having a ploddy day.  She did say I should be asking for Starsky again though: that the more hoses I get experience with, the better, but being on a faster horse that just takes off had been really good for me today, and made for great preparation for CR season next summer. She said I could even handle Starsky on my first Common Ride, as clearly riding him flat out wasn’t a problem – I just needed more experience at that speed in order to trust my skill more. I was rather tickled that she thought I could handle him J

The walk back to the yard was fab, and although I rode long to let Starsky relax, he remained forward all the way, walking purposefully and voluntarily trotting to catch up when he had to. I didn’t ride home without stirrups though, given he’d been a bit spooky. When we crossed the river and were almost on the yard, I thanked L sincerely. I said “Today was just what I needed: to see how much work I have to do at a gallop before taking on even one of the steadier Common Rides next year, and to be pushed to the point where my nerves undeniably jangled a bit, but not so much I lose confidence. Here I am at the end, smiling and feeling confident thanks to you!” She gave a big smile back, told me we needed to do it again as practice is all I need, and thanked me for a fun ride out. She’s right: when she enjoys it, her clients enjoy it too!

When we finally stopped, D came up to me when I was still on Starsky. L told him to give me a few minutes though, as I’d fallen in a heap after jumping off Hutch with dead toes and ankles last week! D laughed, and I enjoyed giving Starsky lots of pats and whither scratchers while I circled my feet. When I eventually jumped off, I got quick cuddle before D came back over, so I ran Starsky’s stirrups up and loosened the girth. D said Starsky was a favourite of his, and I said it had been my first time, but it was a fast, furious and fun hack, and I’d loved riding him. D smiled and said so many people mistake Starsky for a plod because of his size, when the truth is, he’s a flying machine because he’s so powerful. Ain’t that the truth!

All in all, while I’d a few flushes of nerves, I had enjoyed the “Lucky Experience” that R had told me so excitedly about. I’d relished the pretty much one-on-one time with L too (the girl on Honey only spoke when spoken to, and while we tried to include her every so often, we got little out of her apart from a giant “WHOA!!!!” when Honey’s burst of speed from a walk to  gallop to keep up with us surprised her).  I wish it was always like this, but I do well to have the funds for a 2hr discounted hack, never mind the fee for a  full priced, private one. Besides, for less than two private 2hr hacks a week, I could have my own horse on livery there. That’ll be a much better use of money some day! lol.

15/9/12 Hutchin’ a Ride

15/9/12 Hutchin’ a Ride

I got the yard, chatted to some new folk, and was given Hutch today: I wasn’t asked who I wanted, but I was pleased. I was doubley chuffed however when I got on and Hutch was all pricked ears and trying to set off before the group  was ready (only two other riders, then my fave ride leader L.). I knew immediately I was riding The Hutch Express, and he didn’t disappoint!

Having crossed the river and had our first trot, I let Corrie in front of me as the man riding him was chatting to L and they could barely hear one another. I had to stop at the beginning of the second trot to let him past. Holding 18hh of Hutch was not easy, and no sooner was Corrie past than Hutch launched into a race. We were on a road, and that leaping stride made me wonder what he was going to do, but thankfully it was just an extended trot, and I got him to yield away on the left hand side of the road so that we were safe. Corrie and Hutch were fresh as daisies though, but Whisperer had been called to follow the lead pony, Sophie (or Sophie-Loaf as I like to call her) – a 14hh chestnut baby who was new from Ireland and hadn’t been taken out as hack leader before. Whisperer was being slow, and Sophie-Loaf needed a lot of leg to get anywhere. Thankfully both of these quickly melted away as obstacles!

The first canter was on the hill and as glorious as ever, though Corrie was told to hang back in case Sophie freaked out and threw the brakes part-way up. That wound Corrie and Hutch up no end, but Hutch duly went from halt to canter once released, and I was up Whisperer’s backside in no time. Hutch only made it 80% of the way up before he was knackered and had to trot, but to be fair, he’d broken into a gallop at the start, so it was an improvement in fitness that I could see. Even blowing like a train at the top, he was still keen, and power-walked all the way to get caught up again. In fact, he was finding Whisperer a pain in the arse as she was flicking her tail and pulling her ears back at him, so without asking, he took me off a different route uphill. Whisperer got to the bottle neck first though, so we had to stay behind a bit longer.

At the top of the hill, we have the bridge to the left and the canter stretches forward and right. Off we went, and the first two canters were collected and beautiful: L kept up close together, so there was no charging, and Hutch was too keen to even thinking about going back to trot even with Whisperer so close in front. The next stretch started the same, nice and steady, but Whisperer took a dislike to the puddle and took her sweet time getting around it. However, she also took exception to being left behind once she’d traversed it, and galloped off where the path goes slightly uphill. Hutch’s response to having the space and permission to gallop was “HELL YES!!!!!!!!” and off he took like the proverbial off a stick. It’s just a shame he’s much faster than Whisperer and the stretch causes for a trot at the end because it narrows, is uphill, and there’s some stonework to be negotiated.

We all had a canter or two more, all a bit faster as L was happy Sohpie had settled, and we all a blast. On my last hack, Hutch was on the forehand and finding the balance in the two-point seat was harder because of it; this week it was easy again as he was really working from behind and sitting on his hocks instead. L then called us to walk two-abreast, which Hutch hated: he wasn’t happy being that close to Whisperer’s teeth or to be slow enough to stay beside her, so he power-walked and kept up more with Corrie and Sophie. L said we must be bored on the same routes, how did we fancy something different, which can have up to 15mins cantering if branches allow. She directed the decision at me and at P riding Corrie, because we were on the big horses so would have the most ducking to do. Well, I’m a pro at ducking at this point, so I was happy. L toyed around the decision in her head for a few minutes but then said ‘Screw it: even if we have to walk because of branches, it’s different and it’s scenic!” So, off we went!

The new ride involved no road work whatsoever (bar that piece of road after the river and before the first canter, which is unavoidable). The first half was a route around field edges, that involved lots of horse gates that L or P had to get off for. The brambles and holly hurt (I filmed about 20mins of footage which I need to cut down to a short video, and there’s lots of snippets of me saying “Ouch! Brambles don’t tickle!” and similar choice phrases), but were worth it. Hutch was on his toes, nostrils flaring: I wouldn’t go as far to say he was spooky on this new route, but he was certainly much more vigilant than usual. He had one spook once, while we were along a field, sandwiched in single file between thicket and field fencing. Just while I was having my  left leg pulled backwards and dug into with bracken, Hutch shat himself  at the water feeder, leaping forwards and left, tugging the brambles even deeper into me before tearing them off. I was recording at the time, but clearly his pause somehow as soon as he started to react. I’m almost impressed that I managed to do that, but would have been happier to catch the whole thing on video! I also found the first obstacle that my feet don’t clear with Hutch either – cow fencing:

The biggest stretch of fast work on this trail was along a vehicle path to a gate, with the two flattened trails where the tyres had been. There was a post halfway along that L said we’d slow for in case Sophie-Loaf took an aversion, but other than that we’d be cantering the whole thing but were to stop well in time for the gate even if we thought we could jump it! (A five-bar from the gallop on a huge, powerful horse I’d never jumped? No thank you – I signed up for hacking, not huntign).  As much as L tried to push Sophie, even shouting faster, it wasn’t enough for Corrie and Hutch. Early on, Hutch switched from the left tyre path that the two riders ahead were on, and as soon as we hit the right and had space in front of us, we galloped! It felt amazing: we were going faster than the railway line on the last galloping hack I had, as Hutch was in a livelier mood and the stretch wasn’t as long so he wasn’t as tired; there was also space to pass so no one held us up. The only problem with this was that when we powered up along Corrie at a gallop, Corrie wanted to race too, so cut us off, went into the right lane ahead of us, and Hutch and I had to go back to canter to let them in. P then was fighting to stop Corrie going past Sophie, but it would have been safe to pass as there was lots of room and she was under control. I certainly wouldn’t haven’t been trying to stop Hutch galloping if he got up beside her there as lead horse. I couldn’t ever win that argument! Anyhow, despite Corrie spoiling the fun, it was great to really open Hutch up, and in more open country than along the old railway line. It’s probably my favourite galloping experience so far: I just wished it was longer! It also felt like a snippet of a Common Ride, as it was through fields. I was impressed with Hutch thogh: despite being a Common Ride horse and fresh as a daisy, he did not tit around when we entered open fields. Lots of horses think it’s time for a hooly when they’ve grass under their feet: Hutch was a gentleman, and when he got bored waiting for L and P to get back on their horses, he was happy munching!

Unfortunately, the branches were so dense for most of this new rtoute, that was all our cantering on this hack over, and almost all of our trotting too. Some of the branches were so thick and so low that Corrie and I had to find different routes around the path to make it passable for us: only Sophie was small enough to fit under, and Whisperer followed us through probably would have made it  with Sophie at only 16hh or so. On our usual ride, I know where most of the killer branches are and can avoid them. The problem with putting your head down so the crown of the hat becomes your battering ram when you don’t know the place, is that you don’t know when to put your head up. I had to do some very quick ducking and re-ducking, but thankfully Hutch’s neck is a rather warm, comfy, nice-smelling place to be J

To come off the field-side circuit, we went past our original canter stretches to crossed the viaduct (a bridge we normally cross maybe 40mins into the ride, rather than over an hour into). On the way back, we were just about cantering when we heard a quad bike so loudly we swore it was coming head on toward us. We went from cnater to halt so fast, and I think all of us had a moment of panic about what Sophie would do. Thankfullly, the quad turned out to be on the hill above is and the sound was misleading. It did spoil things a big  though, as it was so hard to tell where it was and Sophie was so nervy, we walked the canter stretches. Hutch was NOT amused!

If you’ve seen the video of my last hack on Hutch, you know that big valley, with all the trees far below the bridge? To get home, rather than a long loop of road work and through the Glen, we hacked down that. valley The step off the path at the end of the bridge was really steep: Corrie did it, and his back legs slipped and careered into his front almost, looking a rather shaky and scary way to get down. I said “No, Hutch, you’re not slipping like that!” so leant back, slipped my reins like an eventer out on the XC course, and actually put my left hand on the cantle of the saddle, that’s how far back I needed to be and how much I felt I needed that extra bit of security! Sure enough, it worked: Hutch made it safely down without stumbling. As he usually does going downhill however, he trotted at the bottom as with his size, the momentum makes it easier for him to come downhill that way. Well, I made have slipped my reins like a pro, but I did not gather them up quick enough: think what happens when you see someone on a four star course with a narrow after a drop but no reins for steering… Yes, we had a sort of ‘run out’!

Having got off the steep edge safely, the path forked into two: the right was clearly often used, and had a nice gap between the foliage from foot to tip. The left however, was a solid rainbow of holly bush (the left and right holly bushes were literally growing into one another), and while a horse may just about scrape under, no rider was going to. I wonder if you can guess which route everyone else took, but which route my racehorse thought would be smart to take as I had no contact to steer, and so that he might cut ahead of Corrie?!  Yes, you guessed it folks! So, to the tune of Rockin’ Around the Xmas tree everyone: “Debra decked her skin with boughs of holly”…TOTAL KNOBBER! It hurt like feckery, and once I was through the bush and still in the saddle (I almost got hung in the bush, it was so dense I could barely push through), all I could do was laugh and call Hutch an eejit. The old me would probably have been left hanging those bushes after deliberately jumping ship, and probably a bit nervous that Hutch was happy to hurt me. Not now that I’m a confident rider: I thought it was hilarious, as did L when she turned round to find out what the cloud of swearing followed by the laughing like a tit was about. It’s because my horse for the morning is a bit of a dude, and a thoughtless but funny knobber underneath it all. I <3 Hutch!

The rest of the ride was downhill pretty much, through forest and even over a narrow bridge, which I expected Sophie to freak out but she was great. While those first 10mins away from the yard were a slow, tedious walk because she kept napping and dancing up front, she’d really settled after that, and while L needed lots of leg, she never refused or looked at much again except the quad bike – she just needed a bit of encouragement to keep going. L was superb in backing her up, giving her confidence, and praising everything she did well. On the way home, we were so early that L actually took time to walk her up to strange things and let her nose about. I’ll tell you something for nothing, if ever I had a green or nervous hacking horse, I would trust L implicitly to hack it out and give it confidence. She’s done it with Sophie-Loaf, with Toby (who was so bad the yard sold him as a non-hacking horse, but L had always taken him out and perservered) and Lucky, who all the other ride leaders point-blank refuse to take out. It’s good to know that when I buy my horse, if I’m still living in Edinburgh, that I have someone I trust if I need to pay for a bit of professional schooling.

I don’t know what it is about riding so much downhill, but my hip flexors were especially sore by the end of the hack, and my toes particularly asleep. I usually ride home without stirrups along the river, but I didn’t today as Hutch was deliberately dropping off so he could trot and catch up, and we were both thinking we would get to canter home like A lets us. Not today: not only has L never lead a canter there while I’ve been out, we were also home 15mins early by my watch. If we’d done anything other than walk back, it would have been worse!  Still, I’m sure there has been or will be days where we’ve been out a bit longer than 2hrs, so I wasn’t complaining. L’s policy is that if she’s not enjoying the hack and is bored, then her clients must be too, which is why she consulted with us and planned a different route out in her head for variety. The enthusiasm for which she talks about her customers and making them happy is second to none: in fact, it’s the type of talk I’ve never explicity heard in the equestrian world before. I was more than happy to have had such a different experience: a slower, more scenic hack with no real road work, yet still a few (albeit unplanned) gallops in there. There would have been much more fast-work too if the branches weren’t so thick. I hope I don’t have to wait months for an L hack again: they’re too good to miss!

We got back on the yard, and Hutch trotted and jogged almost solidly from the river to the stables: he’d come home as fresh as he’d gone out. I took my time to try and get the feeling back in my toes, but it wasn’t fully happening, so I hopped off anyway. My feet landed too close to Hutch though, so I bounced backwards: the first bounce was fine, but the second step led to me overbalancing and I feel flat on my arse! Still, it is better padded than it has ever been sadly, but I got straight up, and as usual, I was laughing. Also, no one bothered when I fell: no on rushed over or shouted was I alright; I clearly was in good humour, and Hutch gave me the most comical “What on earth are you doing woman?!” type look. We also had a lovely cuddle before I sorted his leathers, girth and reins for going away.

I saw down in the sun by the office, chatted to the nice teen who complimented me on Ransom and said not a dicky-bird when I fell even though he was beside me. I was let in to get my bag, and was told I could sit there as long as I wanted as I looked very content! It’s true, I was, but I was in need of a shower and some lunch after such a warm morning. So, I booked my hack for next week (now tomorrow – yay!) and off I toodled, with bruises on my arms and scratches everywhere from holly, bracken and branches. I’m still smiling though: nothing can wipe that away!

My next challenge however, is seeing if I can record video while cantering: so that’s one handed in the two-point position without losing my Blackberry to the forest and a stampede of hooves. I daren’t unless I can find a way of tying my phone to my person though. I have an idea mind you, and just need to find my old lanyard. Watch this space!

2/9/12 Ransom is as Ransom Does

Today, I had my 1hr flatwork and 30mins jumping lesson. I was really excited about having a good old tidy-up of my flatwork schooling, but was nervously excited about the jumping. My friend told me that her mate thinks Ransom’s cracking for a jump lesson because he’s so forward and keen. I have to admit, when I thought through what horse I wanted, Ransom was at the bottom of my list. He is stunningly beautiful, sharp and willing, but he’s also a challenge because of those things, and because his uneven moment makes balancing on him more difficult. I had the most amazing collected canter of my life EVER with him on that hack, but 2hrs of his unevenness put my hip out, and the Physio cost more than the hack! I also wasn’t sure the TB-keen approach is what I needed for my first voluntary return to jumping for a long time. The list of horses I wanted to ask for was long, in preparation for the fact that many of them only do hacks or Common Rides so aren’t available for schooling. I was prepared, and quite fancied Hugo, who I know is a school horse as my sister rode him, and who’s canter I know I can sit to. I am itching to school on bigger horses to perfect sitting to their canters as well, but I wasn’t sure a lesson which ended in jumping was the best time for that!  With all that in mind, I went into the office.

A few people were ahead of me despite arriving later than me, but were given horses that I didn’t know or that were too small for me, so I wasn’t bothered. The YO asked me if I was doing both flatwork and jumping or just flatwork: upon answering, she told me I’d be having Ransom. I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t get a choice, and I almost spoke up to ask if there was anyone else. As much as I felt that temptation, I didn’t though: I told myself that if I can get through 2hrs on Ransom out hacking, pulling like a train at times, then 90mins in the school was nothing. Besides, even though I rode like a numpty on my birthday and didn’t speak up about my stirrups being long, I learned a hell of a lot from M. and Ransom!

I went outside, and after what felt like an age, Ransom was brought out. He looked as beautiful as ever and spotless too. I got on, the girl that usually leads my hacks fixed my stirrups and asked why I wasn’t out hacking with her that morning. I said I needed a tidy-up to make sure I’m not picking up any bad habits when no one is looking, and I fancied a jump, but I’ll be back hacking next time!

Off we went to the indoor school. I was glad of that: Ransom had been a bit of a knobber in the outdoor school last time, spooking unless I put him in an outline or shoulder-in, and I didn’t fancy that much work every single lap for 90 minutes, especially if we had to jump towards that open end where he can see how high up we are.  I went in to find that we were to warm ourselves up, and I rather enjoyed that freedom rather than being nose-to-tail, doing the same thing. Happily, it was also a sign of things to come: it was not a nose-to-tail or always wait your turn type lesson!

In the school today, Ransom was as generous as ever. I was second in line when we did form a queue, and when asking for working walk, I got a medium one. By bringing him back a little, he settled into an outline, and we spent much of the hour working like this. The trot work was easy, albeit more uncomfortable when on his spring hock-diagonal. My feet were under me, not creeping forwards at all, and I was quick to correct myself if I let my shoulders creep up or forward.  The work was varied too: the school is so long, we were able to do things like simultaneous serpentines, side-by-side, rather than one after another in a queue. Also, while one person would circle around the RI at the bottom, the second person would transition up, and go and circle at the top; by the time the RI had finished watching one, the other had just begun. There was also some synchronised dressage too: performing moves in pairs, side-by-side, making sure we both kept level with one another by communicating, and adjusting our horses depending on whether they had to take the longer, outside line on a turn, or the shorter, inside one. The girl I was with did not communicate with me at all, but I always made sure to let her know when I was turning Ransom as that took time an space. My favourite part was the four of us doing 10m circles, side-by-side though!

I’d settled quickly into Ransom. I knew he was keen, but he was not being stupid or silly with it.  We started to do some exercises one at a time: a lap of the school and coming up the centre line, halting at X, then halt to trot back to the ride. I squeezed ever to gently to ask Ransom to trot when it was our turn, as he’s sharp and only needs minimal encourage. He did not give me trot however: he gave me canter. Not just a normal, steady canter either, he full on tanked off! I didn’t panic however, and never felt unsettled: I used my seat and hands firmly but not harshly, and he came back to me before we got to the narrow width of the school. The RI seemed suitably impressed with my balance and calm, so we tried again. I got some fab rhythmic trot on him, although it tooks us twice to get the centre line quite right. He’s such a massive horse to turn, that I’d underestimated where to start steering the first time, so we ended up a little past the centre line. The second time and then after we were spot on: I just gave him lots of outside leg behind the girth to bend his back end round and it was grand. I also did what M had taught me and squeezed as I halted: it worked. The RI said our halts were perfect, square and bang on X. Result!

The circle work in trot was good: I needed a reminder to ask for a bit more flexion as I’m used to P’s nappy ponies that I needed to school for 15mins bending around jumps to remind them they could flex, and that reins weren’t just for steering. Still, once I’d remembered I had the horse for the job, it never came up again. In trying to round his back end I used a bit too much outside leg at once point, so ended up on 18m, but it was still circular so I wasn’t too unhappy. We also had a lovely leg yield to spiral out of a 10m circle at one point. I was thrilled! The only thing that made our circling better was cantering: with that extra push from behind as I collected him up, Ransom really worked, and we had the most beautiful collected circles, 20m wide, and in an outline. It was the sex: I could have kissed that horse. I’d never have thought I’d be cantering circles on him in my second lesson with him, not after how badly I’d cantered during my first lesson on him with M!

Generally speaking however, it took some work to get Ransom to relax in the canter: he tanked off or tried to several times as he was so keen, but focusing on the rhythm really helped me to achieve the pace I wanted, and soon it all felt controlled and beautiful. He has the most uphill canter I have ever experienced, and it really is a thing of beauty. I said to my RI that I’d never sat the canter to a horse so big before, or not properly at least. She thought I’d been riding Ransom a lot as I had the measure of him! She even told me that she’d never noticed it before, but Ransom was working so well for me and I was getting a lot out of him that she could see his potential as a proper dressage horse if he hadn’t have spring hock (or stringhalt as it’s also known). She complimented me on how well I rode him, and at the end of the lesson when she had a Q&A session, I asked about my riding and my lower leg in particular. She said it had been solidly in the right place for the lesson as is needed for Ransom, and any issues I did have eg shoulders forward, dropping inside hand on turns, I fixed myself very quickly. So, I passed my test: my flatwork has not turned to utter crap in the space of 6 weeks or so. I’m grand to get back hacking and not worry about my form!

On came the jumping: all but one person from my lesson left, and 3 kids on their ponies came in while I put my stirrups up a hole. They were all cheeky chappies: lots of running around, cutting corners and trying to get to places first. Still, I didn’t lose my calm and Ransom didn’t either. Besides, if he’d decided to join in the races, he would have won hands down without even trying! lol.

I asked the RI what Ransom was like to jump and she said that she didn’t know: she’s not had him in the school that often as he’s usually on hacks and Common Rides, and hadn’t really seen his potential up until today. She’d also never had him in a jumping lesson before. Still, I was glad my mate told me he’s keen to jump but fun because of it. That was my inner mantra: forward, not afraid! Speed itself is nothing to be scared of, as long as there’s balance and control; despite a few keen moments, I seemed to have both of those in the hour beforehand.

The first fence was just a little cross-pole to warm up. I brought Ransom into a collected trot, but from 2 strides out, he cantered and went over it like it was 1m high! I was totally left behind and felt rather unsettled by the unpredictably big leap, but I’d swore before this lesson that even if got left behind I would throw my hands forward if I had to so as not to sock my horse in the mouth. It worked: I was left a bit behind, but had given generously with my hands so as not to pull him and was fine cantering away from the fence. (I also learned that on big, strong, powerful horses, it is easier to canter away in the light seat from a fence, sitting down a few strides later, rather than doing the classical thing and sitting once landed; I now understand the ‘rising canter’ of profression SJers a bit better now as I bet those horses pull like trains a lot of the way round). I could tell Ransom had pushed off his bad leg too, as I had that galloping feeling again: that difficulty in keeping equal weight down my right leg because of his unevenness. If I’d not hacked him out before, I would have thought my balance or stirrups were off, so I was glad I knew it was a symptom of his stringhalt. In the end, I only felt that feeling once: the rest of the time I’d managed to get him there to go off his better leg.

I was nervous about balancing on another big leap from Ransom, but we came to the jump the second time and same thing: two strides out he took off and put a huge leap over the fence. I was more prepared this time, and it certainly felt better. My RI told me to put my hands forward on his mane 3 strides out but I refused: I was giving with my hands, and wasn’t going to hold on to his mane like a kid learning to jump: not because I have a problem with that at all, but because I knew I could do this properly!  3^rd time and I had it: I knew exactly when Ransom would transition up so stopped rising, I knew exactly how much extra height he was going to give it, and my timing and position were finally on point.  After those first two jumps, the little voice in my head said “You’re likely to fall off if you keep this up: you’ve done two jumps, so why not quit while you’re ahead?” I didn’t listen to it, and I’m glad: I’d got the hang of fast, long and high!

The RI then added more jumps in: doing a straight-bar across the long diagonal and raising the height (nothing startling: only 2ft/60cm or so) for one and joining a few fences together. I still chose to bring Ransom to fences in trot: I wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t tank if I put him into canter as he knew exactly what was coming because he’d seen the pony riders do it first! I didn’t see the point in that, and I was seeing his stride as it was: I knew where he wanted to transition up, and he preferred to go on the long stride rather than put one in. It worked though, and I even did some of the jump-off lines that the RI encourage us to try, cutting a lot of the school off and turning into fences from just a few strides away. Ransom was impeccably well behaved for a horse that was itching to go!

On came combinations next: what looked like it would be a 2-stride double for me and Ransom. It wasn’t big, a 60cm straight bar followed by a slightly bigger spread, and while I hadn’t looked forward to doing a double at the start of the lesson when I saw it put up, I was no longer concerned as I had got used to Ransom and we were in sync. The RI also asked me what do you do in the middle of a combination and I said sit up, stay balanced and maintain the rhythm. She was chuffed, said I’d been taught well (thanks P!), so off we went. This time however, Ransom did not go off the long stride: he chipped one in, so while I was already going up and forwards into the jump position, he added the stride and then stag-leapt over the fence as we were deeper into it. That was it: I was pinged up and forwards, and while I considered grabbing some mane and trying to stay on, I didn’t think that would be fair on Ransom as I’m not a waif of a rider, and he’s so honest I thought he might have tried to complete the double with me on his neck. So I planned my fall mid-air as usual, as I’ve been taught to fall properly like a jockey – it never ceases to amaze me how many folk try to put their hands out and break their wrists.

My fall was a success: I’d turned so that I landed not on my shoulder or flat on my back, but in between, in the roll-away position. I looked up to my left and saw Ransom’s stomach above me, so despite the RI shouting don’t move, I rolled to the right  to make sure I wasn’t under him and sat up. Ransom had stopped dead as soon as I fell, and was looking down bewildered, wondering what I was doing down there. I soon realised I hadn’t been underneath him either, just close to his right side and I’d lifted my neck up funny to look. I put my hand up, shouted I’m fine, though I felt my nose bleeding (how that happened I don’t know, as it was the back of my head that hit the ground). Still, it was only minor, I explained that I was not scared or too sore to get back on, so with the help of a chair and letting the stirrups down (yip, he’s that big that I needed help from lengthened stirrups even from a make-shift mounting block), I was on. My RI said Ransom was starting to look a bit tired, so that’s most likely why he switched his approach from long to short, but I still had no explanation for how I managed to get a bloody nose when I didn’t fall on my front! lol.

 I walked Ransom for a bit while the kids did a few courses, analysed their jumping when the group were asked for feedback, and the RI came back to me afterwards. She said she didn’t want me to leave without jumping, and I said good: I didn’t plan on leaving without doing more jumps either! (I love P, but too often a fall meant the end of any fun she was so damn cautious).  We went back to the first jump, and it took a bit longer to settle Ransom into a rhythm as he kept trying to speed up. We got there, and while I gave with my hands, I was a bit defensive and definitely could have gone with him more. I said that to my RI on the getaway, she agreed, and I said it was just because I’d fallen and the next time would be better. We did it twice again with no hitches: it was as perfect as it had been earlier when I got the hang of Ransom, and it felt wonderful. The RI asked me if I was happy with that and I said a smiley and jubilant yes, so we walked off.

During the flatwork, there was this kid hanging round – a boy of about 13yrs old. When I mounted up he was saying things like “Wow: you’re getting to ride Ransom! You’re so lucky!” He clearly loved this horse, but it sounded as if he hadn’t been allowed to ride him from the way we were talking. He’d been at the side of the school watching a lot of the lesson, and when we paused for the jumps to be built he’d told me how brilliantly I was riding him. Having been a teenage girl teased by similar lads, a little part of still expects them to be painfully harsh and negative. I can’t explain how good it felt for the teenage rider in me to have had such a compliment! I’d have dreamed about a boy complimenting me riding a sharp, massive horse well when I was a teen: I wouldn’t have lasted after that first tanking off as a kid I don’t think!  When we came out of the school, he also picked Ransom to take back to the stables. He asked me about how the jumping was, as he had to leave once the jumps were built. I told him I fell off, I was more embarrassed than I was sore, but that Ransom was keen and powerful and I really enjoyed it! He didn’t laugh, wasn’t just interested in the fall, but asked how much I liked him and spoke about the good bits. I was beaming – I wish there were nice chaps like that on the yard in N.I. when I was growing up!

So, I got off Ransom, cuddled him, and off he went with the young groom. I could feel that I was going to end up with whiplash down the right of my neck, and my left hip had got tweaked as I’d fallen off the right-hand shoulder and must have tugged on the stirrup on the way off. Still, I knew if I took some ibuprofen and stopped myself stiffening up, I’d be okay. I’d have killed for a bath mind you!

I went into the office to get my things, and buoyed by the fact that my flatwork was grand, booked a hack for a fortnight’s time. I’d have gone the next Sunday, but it was the big Common Ride in the city centre, the biggest of the year, so the yard wasn’t offering any lessons or hacks for adults at all. I was happy that going to see the march and taking photos would make for good horsey-methadone anyway!

My friend had an interview published in Horse magazine recently, about losing a horse and getting her confidence back. She said something that really stuck with me: “I’m not a nervous rider anymore. I’m a confident rider that sometimes get nervous.” That, is me in a nutshell. When I was a teen, I was a nervous rider: if a horse tanked or I fell off, my already low confidence went through the floor, and I’d often do little else after it happened. Sometimes I went for weeks without a lesson, despite getting paid in lessons, if I’d fallen off. Now, I am a confident rider. Put me on anything: 14hh-19hh, ploddy to forward, leg-numb to sharp, TB to draft. Sure, I might get a few butterflies wondering what the first canter will be like, but I’ll be over that and enjoying all of the experience in no time. I take what horse I’m given at my new yard, I don’t complain, I get on with it and I always see the good, even if there are a few hairy or rubbish moments along the way. When I started back just over two years ago at P’s yard, you could not have given me any horse and told me to go and hack it, especially gallop it, without instruction or previous experience of it in the school for love nor money. Now I do it, and once I can see I’ve got the canter in check, I relish it!

Take today for example. Debra the nervous teen rider would have asked for another horse in the office, and not given Ransom a try at all. The teenage Debra would have sh*t a brick when Ransom tanked off not just once but several times, and probably refused to canter from thereon in. The teenage Debra would have left at the end of that flatwork lesson and not even tried to jump such a sharp, fast, powerful big horse. The teenage Debra would have given in after those 2 first jumps, when it felt like she’d never get the hang of a horse taking off and leaping over a tiny fence. The teenage Debra would not have got back on Ransom, or if she’d been forced to, would only have walked and trotted: she would not have cantered and definitely not jumped, not once never mind several times. The teenage Debra would also never ever ever have asked to hack Ransom out in a mischievous mood one Sunday morning! I’d been reminded just what a big but rewarding decision that was after riding him again today ;)

Don’t get me wrong, I had every single one of those thoughts enter my head that day. None of them got the time of day though: they all got a quick no, and disappeared promptly. I had a few nerves, but I didn’t hold them in my hands like a I used to – I told them I was better than that, took a deep breath, and smiled when I was unsure: so I smiled that first canter and smiled those first few jumps. It worked – the rest of the time I smiled because I was really enjoying them, not smiling because it’s a relaxation technique.  I am a confident rider who, as a human being, understandably gets nervous somtimes. However, unlike my teenage years, those nerves no longer stop me and besides, while lots of professional equestrians wouldn’t admit it, even they get anxious sometimes. As a rider, I feel that I am coming full circle, and no one seems to bring the message home to me as much as Ransom does. I freaking <3 that horse! :D