Learning to Ride Horses - at any age

Master the Correct Sitting Position

It seems once you start doing something, everyone's either done it and got the proverbial t-shirt, or are learning too. One of the student assistant folks told me he took up riding in his 50s, so feeling quite young and inspired again.

The funniest thing I've heard is Russell Brand's account of how his riding lessons are going in Hawaii, on the Radio 2 show. He said walk was okay, and trot was where you get jiggled around a lot, and then canter... what could possibly come after canter, says Russell, when the horse goes like a runaway train (or something - can't remember word for word), and (I quote this bit) "your knackers get smashed to bits". I haven't got knackers, but have got equally sensitive bits in the same place, and can testify that if you haven't got the rhythm spot on, they do indeed get smashed to bits! And blistered. Mustn't forget the blisters - I certainly won't.

Am most jealous of Russell being able to learn on a beach in Hawaii, but he can keep the surfing lessons, thank you.

p.s. Brand is a bit like Marmite... you either love him or hate him, and I fink eez wanderfu' innit! Even mentioned Chomsky today - there's ejecayshun for ya!

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.

Horse Mad!

I rode a horse once, when I was 18. She was a big old chestnut mare who graciously carried me up onto Bodmin Moor despite the fact that all I had going for me was good balance, strong legs, and the confidence of the terminally stupid. My companion, a highly experienced jockey, decided to pop off for a quick gallop. He said, “Just wait there,” but the mare had other ideas. The minute his back was turned she reared up, whinnied, and set off at full speed back down the hill. Head and neck were nowhere to be seen as she threw herself into the descent.

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around her as tightly as I could, which made her go even faster. There was a brief moment of relief as the ground evened out and her head reappeared, but then I saw the gate, right in front of us. I thought she’d stop, but no. On she went – straight over the gate – my first (and only) jump! If my companion hadn’t appeared beside us, breathlessly grabbing the reins, and bringing us to a rather abrupt halt, I think she’d have galloped all the way to Bristol. Any sensible person would have been put off, but then I’m not any sensible person.

After 19 years of waiting patiently (read: saving up) I had my first ‘proper’ riding lesson on 12th September last year. I loved every ridiculously expensive second of it. The lady at the riding school told me not to rush out and spend a fortune until I’d had a few more lessons. Very sensible, I agreed, then drove straight to the nearest tack shop and bought a lovely black velvet riding hat, leather riding boots, and a pair of jodhpurs – with full seat no less!

After almost 5 months, I still love going to the stables. I can’t wait until summer when I can spend more time down there. It never fails to amaze me just how hard everyone works – lugging heavy skips of manure to the tip, stuffing hay nets, grooming the horses, sweeping the yard, and a thousand other jobs that can’t be ignored.

Here’s what I've learned so far:

1. Riding is really hard work, and that’s not including all the stuff on the ground! Have you ever tried to get half a tonne (78 stone!) of muscle and bloody mindedness to move over using just your inside leg?!

2. Horses can bite. It hurts like hell. Not only that but they're really fast. They can also kick. I imagine this also hurts like hell.

3. Top class show-jumpers do not mix well with complete beginners. It’s like putting a six year old behind the wheel of a Ferrari. Needless to say, I haven’t been invited back!

4. Good school horses, by contrast, are the most patient teachers you’ll ever meet; forgiving (as in please sit properly, my back’s killing me!), helpful (as in I think you want me to trot/go left/etc. so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and do it for you), and most concerned should they suddenly find you in a heap on the ground!

5. There’s a billion different things to learn, a billion different opinions on how to do them.

6. The crotch area is called ‘the fork’ – as in “Sit back, you’re on your fork!”

7. Horses are expensive. No, like I mean really expensive! Stabling, Vet’s fees, rugs, saddles, bridles, riding lessons, insurance, and we haven’t even started on food, transport (trailers & 4 x 4s), and all the rest of the kit.

8. They also need new shoes, or their feet trimmed every 4 – 6 weeks, so there’s the Farrier to pay too.

9. The world’s largest living horse is called Radar. He stands at 6 feet 7½ inches to the withers (19 hands 3 ½ inches). The withers is at the base of the neck.

The world’s smallest living horse is called Thumbelina. She stands at 17 inches to the withers.

Whereas Radar drinks 20 gallons of water a day, and eats 40 lbs of hay, Thumbelina has a handful of hay twice a day!

10. Not everyone rides horses by sitting in the saddle. The Puszta Team school in Hungary drive a team of horses whilst standing on their backs! And it all started from a painting called the Hungarian Post.



Watch them in action under the link on the left at The History of The Pusza.