Canter Canter Canter

I can canter!

Well, the horse can canter.

BUT I can steer the horse while it is cantering!

How wonderful am I?!

*Huge Silly Grins*

Jumped!

I jumped! Or rather the horse jumped, but I stayed on! Hurrah!

Perception is a funny thing!

Only a two foot high vertical but hey - it's a start. And it looked bloody enormous to me, so much so that I had butterflies and the horse must have felt it because on the first approach he said, "Nah, you ain't ready missus!" and ran out to the side! Third time lucky and over we went. It was lovely and smooth. Can't wait to go again and next time I'll try it without holding onto his mane!

Spooked!

I had a riding lesson in a different place today, in an outdoor school. I was on a lovely horse - very sensitive to my aids and willing. He's also bigger than the horse I normally ride.

All was going beautifully. I was luxuriating in being outside, riding in the sunshine with short sleeves (they seem a lot more relaxed in this school). Any way, about half way through the lesson, another horse is put out to pasture at the end of the school and starts rubbing itself along the fence. My horse doesn't seem too bothered by this and we trot by quite happily and onto a 20 metre circle (okay - oval!). As we come around again, the instructor asks me to give the horse by the fence a tap with my riding crop as I go past. I wasn't too sure about this, but thought I'd do as I was asked, but of course I made two fundamental errors!

1. Instead of just walking on the approach to the other horse, I asked for trot.
2. At the same time as asking for trot I put the crop into my outside hand and up - yes I know now - by his ears.

It was quite awesome - the power of the spooked horse. Firstly we went up into the air, and then off into a sprint around the school. I lost one stirrup and still had the crop up by his ears as I clung to his mane. It then dawned on me that unless I got rid of the crop, we'd never stop, but didn't fancy letting go of the mane either. Eventually - I say eventually but it all happened in a split second - half way around the school, I managed to stay sitting firm, letting go of said mane, and throwing the offending crop to the ground. I could've tried putting it into my hands the correct way but I couldn't think too straight while hurtling around the arena.

Poor horse! I will never do that again! But on the positive side...

1. I didn't feel frightened at all.
2. I didn't fall off.
3. I brought him back to a steady canter, then trot, and finally to walk in only 3 circuits of the school!
4. It was sooooo exciting! I love it! Even when they spook I love it. I think I must have a death wish, but no matter what anyone says - horses are never as scary as rock climbing!

Now I'm off to soak in hot bath because my legs are aching!

Squaring the Serpentine - beginners on horses

Serpentines in the Riding School

Learning to ride is a bit like trying to get to grips with Zen Buddhism - the minute I think I've got it, that 'Ah!' moment, something happens to re-assure me that I am indeed a hapless novice. Make that beginner because in horsey circles, novices are really quite advanced of where I am currently at!

So I've been riding for almost 6 months now. I can stay on, in trot, without stirrups, and more recently without the accompanying chafing of the nether regions. I can get the horse to halt, walk, trot, and in the last two months, canter. I'm still quite crap at canter because I tend to curl up, foetus like, rather than sit up tall, so the horse trots again.

Anyway, yesterday I rode a different horse, a beautiful big thorough-bred type with a calm, friendly nature. After riding the other one each week, and getting to grips with all his little foibles, I stupidly thought that Harry would be 'easier'. But his sheer size presented me with a whole new set of problems, not to mention he's really sensitive to the leg. It was the first lesson where I've thought, "okay... I think that's enough for one day!"

Bumpy isn't the word! So I'm trying to get to grips with the increased bounce in rising trot, so that I don't come back down so late the saddle's on its way back up again. I see stars once or twice before I get into his stride. The horse I normally ride ignores me, so my legs appear to have learned how to squeeze each time I sit. It took bloody ages to be able to do this and ride a (rough) 20 metre circle, only on Harry I need to stop squeezing. My legs keep telling him to go faster and faster, and he's getting upset because we're running out of school. He trips up a couple of times (Note to Horsey people - yes, I know it's my fault!) and this is bit worrying. I can't feel my legs, so I can't seem to stop doing it. Oh dear.

I have the spatial awareness of a piece of coal. When my instructor says, "Change the rein at M and ride the long diagonal to K, picking up a 20m circle at A," my mind starts free-falling. Diagonal? K? Circle? A? I think "where am I?" but on the back of a fast moving horse, 'here' is but a brief moment in the greater scheme of things. I see A whiz past and I've no idea what rein I'm on. I'm now on the wrong diagonal no doubt, look down to see even though I'm still not sure what I'm looking for, and miss the circle completely, going large around the school. This is silly, I think, I can do this on Touchee! Good job my instructor is a patient young lady.

So we tried a serpentine (see pic above). Ha! What fun! Not. My unruly legs kept telling Harry to go faster, so he couldn't get his huge body to turn in time - and this may have been made all the harder because I was relying on him to know where we were going. After all, he has done this before, and I haven't. But he obediently did what I asked, and I erm... wasn't asking very clearly. My attempts are shown below.


I know you're impressed... I can tell!!! ;-) I'll do better next time.

Riding is a case of trying to get your body to ignore all its basic survival strategies, to become one with the animal. If patting your head and rubbing your tummy is difficult, try squeezing with the lower leg, keeping the upper leg still, tensing your tummy but keeping your hips fluid, holding your hands still while the rest of you is going up and down (quite violently at times), and on top of all of this, think "right then, where are we going?" in time to let the horse know. And this while ignoring the chafing and bruising that occured at the beginning of the lesson! I'm very, er, saddle sore today!

I will get there one day, but once a week makes for slow progress. I'll be in my seventies. I rather need a horse. But then I'd need all those hours to look after it, and feed, and somewhere to put it (I don't think the garden is big enough!)... It's an expensive pastime - I'd need to win the lottery.