Do you have the "equestrian intuition" yet?

Today was lesson day again. Never too early if you want my opinion. 

I finally investigated the infamous riding gloves. I have been told that the best ones to protect my hands against a strong horse that yanks on the reins are the bright yellow roper's gloves by SSG. Me...Bright yellow. I think not. But it seems that they now come in black, I guess I was not the only one with style issues here. I already own a pair of these; unfortunately they are way too large. I now use them to tack-up whenever my hands are cold, they are so comfortable. I guess I'll have to go shopping (girls, don't you hate when that happens to you?). 

If you want to test the size of your glove, have someone pull on the pinkie and the thumb fingers at the same time, if the pinkie loosens, they're too large, will slip on your hands and will be hindering your control on the reins when you ride. Just try to canter with your little fingers frantically poking inside your gloves to find the proper whole... 

In the meantime, it seems that nothing will be better that taped fingers under my regular gloves to help ease the pain and help with the blistering. And that's what I did today. Worked like a charm. 

Today we worked on the circle to put Meeka on the bit, then in serpentines. The main difficulty, as you may know, is to trace nice & even semi-circles, while keeping a good rhythm, alternating the aids (when inside becomes outside and the other way around), staying on the right diagonal and, last but not least, without losing collection! Piece of cake right? Absolutely not. 

Still, I find my riding has improved quite a lot since some of the moves have now become second nature: balance and stability in the stirrups, some of the more complex rein aids (especially the indirect rein behind the withers, when you move your inside hand towards the outside hip - extra useful for taking Meeka back on the track when she starts cutting the corners) and what seems like a budding "equestrian instinct". Finally, it seems that my patience and hard work is paying off. 

Nevertheless, when my coach asks me "did you feel that Meeka was popping her shoulder?". Almost 100% of the times, my answer is a humble "No..." invariably followed by a long sigh (that's when I'm not busy panting, of course). It seems that riders who develop a feel for their horse usually make progress in leaps and bounds (no pun intended here), as if something had unlocked from inside. I'll let you know if it turns out to be true, provided that eventually, I do develop that invaluable 6th sense!

What about you? How long did it take you to be able to tell if your horse was popping a shoulder, or over bending to avoid making an effort? Can you instinctively anticipate and correct a bad movement or are you still waiting for this elusive "equestrian intuition" to kick in?

Troubles in the barn & trials on the bit

It was a radiant day today to finally get to see my Meeka again. She's not mine per say, but I ride her every week and treat her just like she was. She's a tall 16 hands mare, strong and a bit pigheaded, but as sweet as can be.

For the first time today, she ran away when I opened her box. Without a halter, or at least a bit in her mouth, she suddenly seemed twice as big and twice as strong. I had no control whatsoever, neither on her nor on the situation. It felt as awkward (and as scary) as if I was running behind a very tall zebra to try and catch it with my bare hands. I guess I just could sense the wilderness that still remains in her even if she is usually your basic calm (sometimes too calm) school horse. But with the help of a stable girl, we cornered her in an empty box, and putting on my most assertive face and attitude (a.k.a a front), I entered and finally put her on a lead chain. Pfew!

Today's lesson was mostly dressage. We worked on the circle to put her on the bit, which seems pretty easy but, as you may know, is an intense workout for both horse and rider. I now have calluses on my fingers from holding the reins so tight and vibrating like there's no tomorrow. That's why I will need to investigate riding gloves. I used to think "the classier the better" but it is becoming obvious that I'm wrong (and vain). My teacher recommended a variety that has padding on the inside of the fingers. I'll let you know if they look good too, but I doubt it. In the meantime, I'm sporting a bright yellow band-aid on my right hand ring finger, thanks to I'll-pull-those-reins-outta-your-hands-if-I-have-to-die-doing-it Meeka.

For those of you who don't know, the vibrating in the reins is supposed to relax the horse's jaw until it "gives-in". Not in terms of submission, but more in terms of accepting to work with you, obey you aids (hands and legs) and build impulsion. Most of the times I succeed at putting Meeka on the bit, but never for long. It's very demanding physically to have to always support your horse, even in the down transitions, so that it remains collected even at full stop. But one day, or so my teacher says, I'll be able to keep her collected throughout the lesson. Let's keep in touch, maybe in a year or two...

Then back to my favourite (read "dreaded") exercise: the leg yield. I guess there's something about this I just don't get. One time I'm the next dressage half-pass champion, the next, Meeka just about does anything she likes and I have no idea what I've done different. The thing is, this exercise does make you work on your independence of the aids - just like a piano player playing the melody with one hand and the accompaniment with the other. I guess I need to work on independence between hands and legs, and pay more attention to the how the horse "feels" underneath me while we merrily move sideways (or so we try).

I'd like to read your comments on this exercise, is it just me or is it really as difficult as I think it is?

For the very first time

I actually consider that there were two first times for me. I know, it can't be, but part one was soooo humiliating that I've sent that memory into oblivion and focused on "My very first time: The Sequel", which was much more constructive. Still, I am willing to briefly revisit part one, as I believe I may not be the only one to have been ridiculed by more seasoned riders the first time I saddled up.

It was not my idea actually. If I had remembered whose idea it was, he/she would have had a piece of my mind. But anyhow, about 15 years ago on a hot summer afternoon, I do remember some tourist ranch owner telling me, while handing me the reins of a large bay gelding, "Don't worry, he's good-tempered". I guess he must have wanted to reassure me, but in fact, he had just underlined the fact that horses actually have a temper. Oh really? Well, I mounted anyway. 

The horse graciously coped with the fact that I had to wiggle my way up to the saddle. Exit my vision of a graceful "swing-up & canter into the sunset" mount. I just praised whomever thought-up pommels and mounting blocks, grasping here and hopping there. When I finally succeeded and sat straight, I barely had time to assess just how high I was actually perched, grab the reins and off we went, with me and my very long-legged buddy closing the march.

If you've ever mounted a horse, you'll certainly remember how awkward it feels to have this thing move under you without having to push the pedal or the accelerator. Talk about losing control! You're not sitting on a moving couch either: the sway of the gait, even at slow walk, is a disconcerting sensation at first. Nevertheless, the scenery took my mind off my apprehension for a while and I let myself enjoy what I thought would be "a ride in the park".  

As my horse was nonchalantly following the others in the trail, I started to think there really was nothing to it. Misconception that I have since corrected. But after a while the trail abruptly stopped at a deep set river bank. Our guide suggested we cross the river to the other side then gave it a go. I wasn't too keen about having to manoeuvre my mount down that muddy slope but at that point, pride kept me silent as I watched his horse struggle, slide towards the water and painfully try to regain his balance at the bottom. Then "John Wayne" motioned at me: "Your turn, come on!"

Brain freeze. I was terrified. At that moment, I knew I'd rather be labelled as a "grade A coward" than sitting on a mud-skating horse falling towards a rocky river bed. So because of me - and in spite of everybody's pleas for courage - we turned around. Oh, the shame!

However, it seemed that everybody was disappointed except for my horse, who was secretly delighted to go back to the all-you-can-graze comfort of the farm. So as soon as we left the trail for an open field, he picked up the pace to a very energetic canter, moment at which I thought that going down that slope may not have been that bad after all. 

Not knowing how to follow the movement, I bounced like a leap-frog in the saddle, fervently praying I would not fall off. Again, exit my bucolic vision of unperturbedly riding the canter, hair blowing in the wind, sun sprinkling freckles on my nose. Nope, different story altogether. Our guide, worried that I might be in distress (praise the Lord for intuition) urged his horse to pass mine, turned around in his saddle then continued cantering sitting backwards - however that may be. Seeing that I was in no immediate danger, he delighted himself in the sight of me, jolted around and scared out of my wits, then bellowed a roaring laugh and yelled "Great Bronco style!" 

I was mortified.

15 years later, I still felt the pang of humiliation when my trainer told me we'd be trying to canter for the first time. But determination had the best of me on that day, and with proper supervision and instructions, I did it. No bouncing, no grasping, It's just the best feeling of all. 

So now, exit bronco style: every time Meeka and I pick up the canter, I'm the proudest most confident of riders. If you've ever a bad experience and decided horse riding was not for you, you might want reconsider. Riding as a tourist on a horse that is only trained to follow is NOT the same as actually taking riding lessons. Horse rides aimed at tourists can become quite upsetting should you ever feel like you're losing control, whereas riding lessons are an empowering confidence and moral booster like no other.  Try it, and let it be your idea.

Learning to ride

I never thought I'd be into sport, let alone into horse riding. Me, sitting on a big 800 pounds untameable beast, getting my brains shaken and my butt pounded like a tough steak? I don't think so. But here I am, a year later, having learned that no, the horse does not do all the work and yes, riding is a life-changing experience (and I am not talking about having tenderized buttocks). I'll tell you more about that in a little while.

I intend this blog to serve two purposes. Mainly, I want to encourage beginners in their pursuit of perfection - perfection being, at this point in time, having understood that "reins are not your good old steering wheel" and that a horse has (yes indeed) a mind of its own...

And secondly, as I myself have weekly lessons and read countless books, blogs and sometimes even backs of cereal boxes about horses and horsemanship, I would like to share some of my newly acquired wisdom with other aspiring horse riders. And I just might add in a few editorial comments about the pleasures and frustrations of living with the oh! so endearing but oh! so strong-headed Equus caballus species.

Welcome to this blog and do leave a comment whenever you feel like joining in. The more the merrier!