Life with Tristan continues apace. Dressage school last night in the back field, working on keeping a good forward rhythm no matter what, and controlling the shoulders in the canter.
Today I'm thinking about another horse-related project that has been brewing in the back of my mind for a long time. In my day job, I'm an historian and museum worker, and just completed a Master's degree in history and museum studies. I study military history, and made the switch to nineteenth-century American when I did my graduate work. My thesis was about the early days of the First Dragoons, and in doing that I became fascinated by the patterns and intricacies of life in the American West.
My next project - to begin in earnest in the fall, after giving myself a summer of from school work for the first time in years - will be about perceptions of the mustang through history. I'll be documenting that blog at my other history/professional blog, Amblering.
In that vein, I read a blog post today that fascinated and touched me and reminded me that there is so much more going on inside my little mustang's head than I will ever really know about. He was four when he came off the range; he'd lived a rich and varied and intense life. Someday I'll post a picture of the scar above his right hock, perfect teeth marks on either side of the big tendon there.
Barbara Wheeler is an equine photographer who specializes in mustangs; I've loved her Facebook updates for months now, and she wrote this detailed account of the death (euthanizing, more properly) of a herd stallion, and the social dynamics among the herds that accompanied his fall.
I'm not sure I agree with the actions she and others took to humanely euthanize this stallion - life in the wild is cruel, and painful, and I have never been one to cry over the plight of mustangs living a perfectly natural, if violent and short, lives. What's done is done, however, and I appreciate the keen observation she brought to the situation.
Bel Joeor: Life + Horses
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
Galloping Practice
I have been pondering my XC run at Groton House Farm, and asked J - who had a good vantage point for a large-ish sweep of my run - whether I had been going too slowly, or whether the person following me was going too quickly.
She confirmed that I need to add quite a bit more pace to get around, and also added that in order to get and keep that pace I'd need to get up and off his back more. Which I knew, so here's confirmation that it's my next focus.
T. did chip in that going clean comes first, then you add pace, but we seem to be more or less okay with that part (pending exposure & experience, of course), so I was ready to work on pushing him in the gallop last night.
I looped my stirrups (note to self: stop being lazy and punch more holes, already) and we headed off out back. He warmed up a bit sticky at the walk and trot, but was clearly pleased to be out of a ring. Once I had him moving out at the trot, we added in a bit of light cantering around one of the jump fields with me off his back, asking for forward but not reaching for much more than that. I worked hard on keeping my leg on, staying connected, and occasionally tapping him with the crop when he backed off.
Then we added in some more speed, and I worked on not just maintaining but urging him forward from my galloping position. I had a few heart-in-throat moments, which proves to me that a) his steering, especially left, is still not entirely confirmed and b) I still have some getting over myself to do in regards to riding at speed. Particularly downhill.
We weren't out there terribly long, but we were out long enough for my calves and thigh to start to burn, and when I pushed through that, we got to some really good stuff. He was really reaching for the bit and using himself better, picking up speed but without going completely unbalanced. We had a moment or two turning left, and I chose to sit down on him and bring him to a canter in some circles to get him off my left leg and more supple that direction, then sent him forward again.
(It's another symptom of our age-old differences between right and left. Tracking left, I get more power and straightness, but he is supple as a brick wall. Tracking right, he is wiggly and supple all over the place, but when I try to add in power and straightness, he drops out from underneath me. We cycle between those two sides every few weeks or months.)
We finished with a good hand gallop up and down the track, then walked back and had one last gallop up the track, and he was getting both a little tired and a little fresh. There was a moment when he put a foot a teensy bit wrong, and bobbled, and was so mad that he launched himself out of it without any urging from me, digging in for another gear and absolutely flying. When we reached the top of the track it took me several strides to bring him back and he practically pranced along the trail to cool out, he was so pleased with life.
The real lesson here is that he does have that gear in him, and when I can find it, he likes it. Now we have to be able to access it sooner and more consistently. Not only that, but earlier - we're not going to have the time or energy for that much running around in order to get there at a show. Part of it is definitely a fitness question, so that's the first we'll address, and hopefully in keeping up these sessions I'll unlock that gallop earlier.
She confirmed that I need to add quite a bit more pace to get around, and also added that in order to get and keep that pace I'd need to get up and off his back more. Which I knew, so here's confirmation that it's my next focus.
T. did chip in that going clean comes first, then you add pace, but we seem to be more or less okay with that part (pending exposure & experience, of course), so I was ready to work on pushing him in the gallop last night.
I looped my stirrups (note to self: stop being lazy and punch more holes, already) and we headed off out back. He warmed up a bit sticky at the walk and trot, but was clearly pleased to be out of a ring. Once I had him moving out at the trot, we added in a bit of light cantering around one of the jump fields with me off his back, asking for forward but not reaching for much more than that. I worked hard on keeping my leg on, staying connected, and occasionally tapping him with the crop when he backed off.
Then we added in some more speed, and I worked on not just maintaining but urging him forward from my galloping position. I had a few heart-in-throat moments, which proves to me that a) his steering, especially left, is still not entirely confirmed and b) I still have some getting over myself to do in regards to riding at speed. Particularly downhill.
We weren't out there terribly long, but we were out long enough for my calves and thigh to start to burn, and when I pushed through that, we got to some really good stuff. He was really reaching for the bit and using himself better, picking up speed but without going completely unbalanced. We had a moment or two turning left, and I chose to sit down on him and bring him to a canter in some circles to get him off my left leg and more supple that direction, then sent him forward again.
(It's another symptom of our age-old differences between right and left. Tracking left, I get more power and straightness, but he is supple as a brick wall. Tracking right, he is wiggly and supple all over the place, but when I try to add in power and straightness, he drops out from underneath me. We cycle between those two sides every few weeks or months.)
We finished with a good hand gallop up and down the track, then walked back and had one last gallop up the track, and he was getting both a little tired and a little fresh. There was a moment when he put a foot a teensy bit wrong, and bobbled, and was so mad that he launched himself out of it without any urging from me, digging in for another gear and absolutely flying. When we reached the top of the track it took me several strides to bring him back and he practically pranced along the trail to cool out, he was so pleased with life.
The real lesson here is that he does have that gear in him, and when I can find it, he likes it. Now we have to be able to access it sooner and more consistently. Not only that, but earlier - we're not going to have the time or energy for that much running around in order to get there at a show. Part of it is definitely a fitness question, so that's the first we'll address, and hopefully in keeping up these sessions I'll unlock that gallop earlier.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Groton House Summer Classic Recap
Short version: GOOD BOY!
Long version: show prep was delayed on Saturday due to the failure of our apartment's central air mid-day Friday. I baked up a storm while the repairman cleaned the compressor to rid it of all its pollen build-up. I finally got to the barn around 3:30 and commenced prep, which was actually fairly straightforward. I've got a packing rhythm down now, and for the first time this season felt confident in everything I'd packed and gotten done. My prep ride was not good, and in retrospect should've been longer - I never quite got him through and connected, but we were in the outdoor and he was pissed about having to work harder in the deeper footing. I gave him an hour-long bath with both shampoo AND conditioner, and he looked fantastic - I even scrubbed his blaze and Quicksilver'd his hind sock to really bring out the white. He was miserable and furious the whole time, but that's pretty standard for baths.
Sunday morning we got off just a few minutes late, but it turned out I hadn't allotted quite enough time for tacking up and getting him ready by myself - as everyone else bolted for the Beginner Novice course walk and I didn't even have time to snag an Elementary kid. It was probably my fastest and most efficient show tacking up ever, and failed on two counts: his braids and my white breeches, neither of which was really presentable. I'm going to have to start braiding him for lessons to get practice back, and to figure out how to secure the running braid, especially the tail end - it's been pulling out mid-warmup and looking awful.
Warmup was good, not great. It had some nice moments and was in a good place near the end. We needed a bit more suppleness than we ever got. When we trotted around the ring prior to starting he gave bug-eyes to the judge's house, but we turned and trotted back the other way and he was already over it. We started our test, made the turn at C, then turned to go across the diagonal - and got rung out.
I was completely baffled, and walked back to the judge. "You're meant to cross the ring directly at B," the judge said. I stared at her, and said "I thought it was a diagonal?" and my brain completely melted down, thinking oh God, if I've memorized this test completely wrong, and how am I going to ride all my diagonals as direct lines, and she said, "You're riding B, right?" and I said, "Yes, B. But I really thought it was a diagonal." The judge paused and said, "Novice B, right?" and I felt a huge wave of relief. "No, Beginner Novice B."
Now that we were on the same page, I circled off the long side, back down the center line, and started my test over. I'd lost some connection and rhythm, though, and was flustered, and on top of never quite hitting my stride in the warmup meant it was not the best test I've ever ridden. It did have some nice moments: I was really pleased with my accuracy, making a point to distinguish circles from corners, nailing my diagonal departures and arrivals, and really letting him shine on those diagonals. The left canter was a dud - flubbed the lead, unusual for us, and then meandered down the long side - but the right canter felt good. The final centerline and halt was good.
After the dressage test we had some downtime, as I untacked him, organized jumping equipment, and put him back on the trailer. I settled arrangements to meet my stand-in coach for the day - Denise from my XC lesson last week, as my times didn't work out to make the general Flatlands one - and then even had a few minutes to chat with people and relax.
Then we went on the XC course walk and my semblance of calm went up like a puff of smoke. It was a solid Beginner Novice course - Denise said that King Oak in the fall will be comparable or even perhaps a bit easier. It was still a good move-up course but this was a big leap of faith I was taking, transitioning up to BN so quickly. Tris and I have a long, solid partnership, we've been working to expose ourselves and get off property and stay focused, but this was still not a decision based entirely on safe, solid, reliable mileage.
I brought my camera, but was too busy suppressing my gag reflex to take pictures, and there are no pictures online that I can find, so a verbal description will have to suffice. First jump was a nice, inviting big log uphill, and then a turn left to a bit of an airy three-log pyramid on a fenceline, with a bit of a downhill on the landing. Curve left over a little barn-like coop, and then land and turn right and a bit of a run across the field to what I think was a maxed-out rolltop. This was the first jump of any size and it was the one that I was most worried about. Land from the rolltop and enter the woods, then go left through a gate and over a tiny little ditch. Continue along a trail through the woods, turn a hard right and go down a bit of a steep, rocky, hill, at the bottom of which a sharp left loop and over an open log fence of some size - basically another log coop with zigzag logs across the front. Come out into the back field for an option: big, almost Novice-sized flat-topped coop or a smaller adjacent one. Curve right uphill for a cute little brush fence, and then downhill again for a solid red coop. Through the woods, curving left, and out of the woods off a small drop with a downhill away back into the field, then a hard right back into the woods, up and out the other side and turn left over two related fences, both hanging logs - I believe four or five strides between. Through a bit of a tree line, and down a steep hill into the water complex, which is gorgeous, but we were only doing a mandatory crossing. Cut left after the water to come up around a hill to the right, for a little red bench, then left over a rock pile topped with a log, then uphill over a cabin for the final fence.
It was a solid course. I'm not sure what I expected, but it got in my head in a pretty good way. I walked from that to the stadium course, which was also solid: fairly straightforward lines, but a couple of full-on BN airy oxers. That did not help the knots in my stomach.
I tacked up and got him ready with the help of one of the barn grooms for the day, and we walked up to the stadium warmup, where we stood quietly in the shade with Tristan's nose on an XC jump that wasn't on the course. He was near to falling asleep, and I talked to T. for a few minutes, asking him if he had any particular advice for Tristan for the XC course ("Point him at the jumps. Keep your leg on."). Then it was time for us to put in a few jumps, and oh, did I ever eat the first few. Leaned, didn't keep my leg on, stared down the jump like it was going to eat me - a tiny little crossrail, mind. T. got after me, and cleared it up, and we had a couple of nice jumps over an oxer, and then waited again. I was more or less completely numb waiting, and then went into the ring, and saluted the judge, and picked up the canter and...locked on the first jump. WHEW.
I think it was one of the best stadium rounds I've ever ridden. It flowed, I got my distances, and I was so determined to get up and over everything that I had plenty of leg. We had a small bobble coming to the second-to-last when we didn't land with the right lead and we had a stride or two of fight about picking up the correct lead, but we nailed it, and then I was so relieved to be coming toward the last jump that the distance wasn't great, but we did it.
We walked down to XC, and we had a bit of delay so they could keep the numbers of people on the course down, and then they told us to go. I composed myself a bit, and pushed him forward into a trot. We were a bit lacking in impulsion for the first fence - which Denise had suggested we trot, but we landed and we were away. My nervousness translated nicely into laser focus, and there was nothing in my head but forward, forward, forward, and steering. There were a couple moments when his shoulders drifted, but I got them back immediately. Our direction on the course walk had been to land going away, much like our XC school, and we accomplished that on a few fences. There were a few moments when I trotted him - through the gate and over the ditch (which he jumped BEAUTIFULLY, clean and economic and landed cantering), down a few of the trickier hills, over one jump Denise had suggested we trot as it came after one of those hard downhills and picking up the canter on a tight turn would've stretched our balance.
We had a few rough spots; the big red coop going into the woods came right after a dirt road. I had thought that Tris might jump the road, actually, and was urging him forward, but he skittered a bit at it - not a stop or spook, more like a moment of uncertainty that there was new footing underneath his feet - which threw us off our approach, and though I had urged him up and forward again he knocked the jump hard with his front legs. He recovered quickly on the landing, though, and didn't seem too stung, so we kept going. When we emerged up the hill, we were called off by the jump judge to be overtaken - I didn't think I'd been going too slowly, but so it goes. Then there was a fall on course, so we were a little while in re-starting. I didn't give him a great approach to the fence, plus he was tiring, and that first fence was a little awkward. I urged him forward for the second, and he cleared it easily.
We trotted down the hill to the water and he went bug-eyed on the approach, but I kicked and kicked and kept him pointed at it, and eventually we trotted in, went back to a walk briefly in the water, and I praised him to the skies and then picked up the trot again out and the canter again going up the hill. The last few jumps were great, and then - since I had jumped the right-hand side of the last fence - there was a split second when I wrestled control of his shoulders back to stay pointed between the finish flag.
I was really, really proud of him, and could not have asked for a better go of his first full Beginner Novice course. He was pretty tired, just stood to be untacked and sponged off, but his breathing came back down quickly, and after he was sponged a few times my father took him for a bit of a walk around the parking lot. When he came back he was completely cooled off, and I put him on the trailer to hang out and rest in the shade, and made much of him.
The rest of the day was pretty relaxing - I spent some time watching other warmups, with friends, and watching the scores go up. Our dressage score of 37.6 had us tied for seventh place after dressage, but after the jumping phases we moved up to third. I hadn't expected to finish in the ribbons; I was aiming for finishing on our dressage score. I was pleasantly surprised and quite proud of Tris. The only confusing spot of the day was when I looked at my dressage test - and we'd received a four on our free walk. His free walk is usually his shining gait, and I had thought ours was pretty good that day. Ah well.
Home, where I turned him out in his pasture for a long drink and a roll, rubbed him all over with liniment, and gave him a gram of bute with dinner. Back to work on Tuesday for a flat lesson; our next show is a dressage schooling event on July 8.
Long version: show prep was delayed on Saturday due to the failure of our apartment's central air mid-day Friday. I baked up a storm while the repairman cleaned the compressor to rid it of all its pollen build-up. I finally got to the barn around 3:30 and commenced prep, which was actually fairly straightforward. I've got a packing rhythm down now, and for the first time this season felt confident in everything I'd packed and gotten done. My prep ride was not good, and in retrospect should've been longer - I never quite got him through and connected, but we were in the outdoor and he was pissed about having to work harder in the deeper footing. I gave him an hour-long bath with both shampoo AND conditioner, and he looked fantastic - I even scrubbed his blaze and Quicksilver'd his hind sock to really bring out the white. He was miserable and furious the whole time, but that's pretty standard for baths.
Sunday morning we got off just a few minutes late, but it turned out I hadn't allotted quite enough time for tacking up and getting him ready by myself - as everyone else bolted for the Beginner Novice course walk and I didn't even have time to snag an Elementary kid. It was probably my fastest and most efficient show tacking up ever, and failed on two counts: his braids and my white breeches, neither of which was really presentable. I'm going to have to start braiding him for lessons to get practice back, and to figure out how to secure the running braid, especially the tail end - it's been pulling out mid-warmup and looking awful.
Warmup was good, not great. It had some nice moments and was in a good place near the end. We needed a bit more suppleness than we ever got. When we trotted around the ring prior to starting he gave bug-eyes to the judge's house, but we turned and trotted back the other way and he was already over it. We started our test, made the turn at C, then turned to go across the diagonal - and got rung out.
I was completely baffled, and walked back to the judge. "You're meant to cross the ring directly at B," the judge said. I stared at her, and said "I thought it was a diagonal?" and my brain completely melted down, thinking oh God, if I've memorized this test completely wrong, and how am I going to ride all my diagonals as direct lines, and she said, "You're riding B, right?" and I said, "Yes, B. But I really thought it was a diagonal." The judge paused and said, "Novice B, right?" and I felt a huge wave of relief. "No, Beginner Novice B."
Now that we were on the same page, I circled off the long side, back down the center line, and started my test over. I'd lost some connection and rhythm, though, and was flustered, and on top of never quite hitting my stride in the warmup meant it was not the best test I've ever ridden. It did have some nice moments: I was really pleased with my accuracy, making a point to distinguish circles from corners, nailing my diagonal departures and arrivals, and really letting him shine on those diagonals. The left canter was a dud - flubbed the lead, unusual for us, and then meandered down the long side - but the right canter felt good. The final centerline and halt was good.
After the dressage test we had some downtime, as I untacked him, organized jumping equipment, and put him back on the trailer. I settled arrangements to meet my stand-in coach for the day - Denise from my XC lesson last week, as my times didn't work out to make the general Flatlands one - and then even had a few minutes to chat with people and relax.
Then we went on the XC course walk and my semblance of calm went up like a puff of smoke. It was a solid Beginner Novice course - Denise said that King Oak in the fall will be comparable or even perhaps a bit easier. It was still a good move-up course but this was a big leap of faith I was taking, transitioning up to BN so quickly. Tris and I have a long, solid partnership, we've been working to expose ourselves and get off property and stay focused, but this was still not a decision based entirely on safe, solid, reliable mileage.
I brought my camera, but was too busy suppressing my gag reflex to take pictures, and there are no pictures online that I can find, so a verbal description will have to suffice. First jump was a nice, inviting big log uphill, and then a turn left to a bit of an airy three-log pyramid on a fenceline, with a bit of a downhill on the landing. Curve left over a little barn-like coop, and then land and turn right and a bit of a run across the field to what I think was a maxed-out rolltop. This was the first jump of any size and it was the one that I was most worried about. Land from the rolltop and enter the woods, then go left through a gate and over a tiny little ditch. Continue along a trail through the woods, turn a hard right and go down a bit of a steep, rocky, hill, at the bottom of which a sharp left loop and over an open log fence of some size - basically another log coop with zigzag logs across the front. Come out into the back field for an option: big, almost Novice-sized flat-topped coop or a smaller adjacent one. Curve right uphill for a cute little brush fence, and then downhill again for a solid red coop. Through the woods, curving left, and out of the woods off a small drop with a downhill away back into the field, then a hard right back into the woods, up and out the other side and turn left over two related fences, both hanging logs - I believe four or five strides between. Through a bit of a tree line, and down a steep hill into the water complex, which is gorgeous, but we were only doing a mandatory crossing. Cut left after the water to come up around a hill to the right, for a little red bench, then left over a rock pile topped with a log, then uphill over a cabin for the final fence.
It was a solid course. I'm not sure what I expected, but it got in my head in a pretty good way. I walked from that to the stadium course, which was also solid: fairly straightforward lines, but a couple of full-on BN airy oxers. That did not help the knots in my stomach.
I tacked up and got him ready with the help of one of the barn grooms for the day, and we walked up to the stadium warmup, where we stood quietly in the shade with Tristan's nose on an XC jump that wasn't on the course. He was near to falling asleep, and I talked to T. for a few minutes, asking him if he had any particular advice for Tristan for the XC course ("Point him at the jumps. Keep your leg on."). Then it was time for us to put in a few jumps, and oh, did I ever eat the first few. Leaned, didn't keep my leg on, stared down the jump like it was going to eat me - a tiny little crossrail, mind. T. got after me, and cleared it up, and we had a couple of nice jumps over an oxer, and then waited again. I was more or less completely numb waiting, and then went into the ring, and saluted the judge, and picked up the canter and...locked on the first jump. WHEW.
I think it was one of the best stadium rounds I've ever ridden. It flowed, I got my distances, and I was so determined to get up and over everything that I had plenty of leg. We had a small bobble coming to the second-to-last when we didn't land with the right lead and we had a stride or two of fight about picking up the correct lead, but we nailed it, and then I was so relieved to be coming toward the last jump that the distance wasn't great, but we did it.
We walked down to XC, and we had a bit of delay so they could keep the numbers of people on the course down, and then they told us to go. I composed myself a bit, and pushed him forward into a trot. We were a bit lacking in impulsion for the first fence - which Denise had suggested we trot, but we landed and we were away. My nervousness translated nicely into laser focus, and there was nothing in my head but forward, forward, forward, and steering. There were a couple moments when his shoulders drifted, but I got them back immediately. Our direction on the course walk had been to land going away, much like our XC school, and we accomplished that on a few fences. There were a few moments when I trotted him - through the gate and over the ditch (which he jumped BEAUTIFULLY, clean and economic and landed cantering), down a few of the trickier hills, over one jump Denise had suggested we trot as it came after one of those hard downhills and picking up the canter on a tight turn would've stretched our balance.
We had a few rough spots; the big red coop going into the woods came right after a dirt road. I had thought that Tris might jump the road, actually, and was urging him forward, but he skittered a bit at it - not a stop or spook, more like a moment of uncertainty that there was new footing underneath his feet - which threw us off our approach, and though I had urged him up and forward again he knocked the jump hard with his front legs. He recovered quickly on the landing, though, and didn't seem too stung, so we kept going. When we emerged up the hill, we were called off by the jump judge to be overtaken - I didn't think I'd been going too slowly, but so it goes. Then there was a fall on course, so we were a little while in re-starting. I didn't give him a great approach to the fence, plus he was tiring, and that first fence was a little awkward. I urged him forward for the second, and he cleared it easily.
We trotted down the hill to the water and he went bug-eyed on the approach, but I kicked and kicked and kept him pointed at it, and eventually we trotted in, went back to a walk briefly in the water, and I praised him to the skies and then picked up the trot again out and the canter again going up the hill. The last few jumps were great, and then - since I had jumped the right-hand side of the last fence - there was a split second when I wrestled control of his shoulders back to stay pointed between the finish flag.
I was really, really proud of him, and could not have asked for a better go of his first full Beginner Novice course. He was pretty tired, just stood to be untacked and sponged off, but his breathing came back down quickly, and after he was sponged a few times my father took him for a bit of a walk around the parking lot. When he came back he was completely cooled off, and I put him on the trailer to hang out and rest in the shade, and made much of him.
The rest of the day was pretty relaxing - I spent some time watching other warmups, with friends, and watching the scores go up. Our dressage score of 37.6 had us tied for seventh place after dressage, but after the jumping phases we moved up to third. I hadn't expected to finish in the ribbons; I was aiming for finishing on our dressage score. I was pleasantly surprised and quite proud of Tris. The only confusing spot of the day was when I looked at my dressage test - and we'd received a four on our free walk. His free walk is usually his shining gait, and I had thought ours was pretty good that day. Ah well.
Home, where I turned him out in his pasture for a long drink and a roll, rubbed him all over with liniment, and gave him a gram of bute with dinner. Back to work on Tuesday for a flat lesson; our next show is a dressage schooling event on July 8.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Lesson Notes: Consistency and Following Aids
So I'll be honest: I was more than a little nervous about Tuesday night's lesson. Though all signs pointed to Tristan recovering completely from whacking his hoof on Saturday, and I felt that I'd acted appropriately in treating it, even his brief bout of unsoundness from the abscess has me paranoid.
He came out his usual self, sticky and fussy in the warmup but giving me good moments, and once he settled in we were right back where we had been. I focused on leg yields in the warmup, asking him to step over without rushing, without blowing through the outside rein, and with bend. It took some time, but after a few good leg yields our overall suppleness increased.
Our focus for the lesson was on two-way communication and consistency, maintaining a length of rein that allowed me to feel his mouth constantly and not giving quite so much in reward. T. talked about how the getting there aids are different from the maintenance aids. I need to be focusing more on the latter now. Instead of constantly picking up and dropping the connection, I need to find the bridge to keep the connection all the time.
There were some really, really nice stretches in there, when I felt that we were completely and totally engaged with each other, my aids were spot-on and instantaneous, my core was fully engaged, and he was working with me instead of evading or fighting. There were also some uglier moments. The canter might - maybe - be finally coming along, creeping slowly toward balance and self-carriage.
We also ran our test for Sunday, Beginner Novice B, aka "when in doubt, cross the diagonal." Ugh. I didn't like it any better riding it than I had reading it, but there are some nice moments in there for us. The canter transitions at X, however, do not help at ALL. T. liked it overall and praised my accuracy, but my rhythm was off. Our half-turn to the final halt was great, but I blew it by rushing the halt, which meant we overshot G and he landed crooked.
Tonight, we'll work a bit in the back fields with his new bell boots, I'll get started on packing/prepping the trailer, and we should be good to go for Sunday. We go dressage at 8:06 (second ride of the whole day), stadium at 10:54, and cross-country at 11:04.
He came out his usual self, sticky and fussy in the warmup but giving me good moments, and once he settled in we were right back where we had been. I focused on leg yields in the warmup, asking him to step over without rushing, without blowing through the outside rein, and with bend. It took some time, but after a few good leg yields our overall suppleness increased.
Our focus for the lesson was on two-way communication and consistency, maintaining a length of rein that allowed me to feel his mouth constantly and not giving quite so much in reward. T. talked about how the getting there aids are different from the maintenance aids. I need to be focusing more on the latter now. Instead of constantly picking up and dropping the connection, I need to find the bridge to keep the connection all the time.
There were some really, really nice stretches in there, when I felt that we were completely and totally engaged with each other, my aids were spot-on and instantaneous, my core was fully engaged, and he was working with me instead of evading or fighting. There were also some uglier moments. The canter might - maybe - be finally coming along, creeping slowly toward balance and self-carriage.
We also ran our test for Sunday, Beginner Novice B, aka "when in doubt, cross the diagonal." Ugh. I didn't like it any better riding it than I had reading it, but there are some nice moments in there for us. The canter transitions at X, however, do not help at ALL. T. liked it overall and praised my accuracy, but my rhythm was off. Our half-turn to the final halt was great, but I blew it by rushing the halt, which meant we overshot G and he landed crooked.
Tonight, we'll work a bit in the back fields with his new bell boots, I'll get started on packing/prepping the trailer, and we should be good to go for Sunday. We go dressage at 8:06 (second ride of the whole day), stadium at 10:54, and cross-country at 11:04.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Scarlet Hill Photos & Videos
One of the benefits of having M. "squiring" (his word; apparently grooming sounds boring) was that I got to hand him a camera and document the XC school. There are only a few photos after the fall, alas, because he kind of freaked out, but so it goes.
First up, two videos. The first was our first attempt at going forward after a jump, which resulted in the little bucks there. The second was our second try, with me keeping his head up and really sending him forward. I like the second one better, for obvious reasons!
Second, a few photos. I'll post them in order with my thoughts.
Warming up, with a little bit of a run.
I like our distance. I do not like my upper body, or my release. My crappy release will become a theme.
So the goal was, after landing off that jump, to get a good head of steam up, make a wide turn, and head back over the same jump. In this picture you can see my biggest and most constant challenge galloping him: keeping him straight, especially through his shoulders.
Better, more forward jump! Even worse release and upper body.
Better distance, good forward jump, a bit of height...holy crap my release sucked.
And then, the jump that undid us. You can see two things here: how I was angled and off-center, and the slight shift in Tristan's body that is him thwacking his RF. (Actually, three things: I'm leaning, which is why I'm about to eat grass.)
So then we rebuilt our confidence with this little jump, over which he is much scopier and centered and I am not leaning quite as much.
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