Spring Show, Day Two

Sunday started early, although not as early as it would have had there been horses in halter.  By 7 a.m. all the horses had fresh water, morning hay, and the ones in the early classes were getting longed and/or groomed.

Buddy and I were the first ones on C's slate of classes - she was riding her horse Trinity shortly after, so the two of us headed out to the main arena to longe the two horses.  Surprisingly, neither of the two wanted to play.  Buddy settled into a workman-like trot, not even bothering to snort at the pinto gelding circling at a brisk lope next to us.

The footing where I ended up was deep, and since he didn't show any signs of wanting to bounce around, I let him stay at a trot.  I didn't have a watch on, but we did somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes in both directions - long enough for him to be warm-ish and not quite puffing.

Nap-time

Back in his stall with a cooler on, he sighed, cocked a hip and went to sleep.  It was a brief nap, however - very quickly it was time for braiding and for tack for him and another quick change for me.

One of the weirdest things about showing with a group?  I didn't get to tack my own horse.  I saddled, unsaddled, wrapped legs, brushed, watered, fluffed tails, distributed hay, and tacked Buddy for Eric's rides, but for my classes someone else saddled him - I was supposed to stay clean.

I can count on one hand the number of times I've had someone else saddle my horse for me since I was tall enough and strong enough to tighten a cinch myself, and I can honestly say the novelty won't grow on me.  While I appreciated the luxury, it was definitely strange.

There was plenty of time to warm up, and Buddy felt smooth and confident under me.  I remember thinking, "I hope he feels this good in the class!"  I suspect he heard me, because he was certainly suspiciously cooperative - until our class was called.

Once again, I entered first, but this time I managed to count how many were in with me.  It was easy enough, since we'd already made most of one lap by the time the other two entered.  Circling, I did my best to keep Buddy rated back, but he wasn't interested in slow.  His nap was a lot more effective than my morning caffeine!

I did manage to keep him in better frame than the night before, I think, but Eric kept signalling me to slow him down.  The best I could do was steady him and try to make my ride look as effortless as it really wasn't.  The first canter transition I didn't get his hip in enough and he caught the wrong lead, but I felt it and was able to bring him back to a trot and ask again with better luck.  Either the judge missed our bobble or one of the other riders did something more unforgivable, because when she called for a line-up I left the ring with another red ribbon. Her only comment to me?  "Fresh this morning, isn't he?"  Yup.

E untacked Buddy and threw a cooler on him while I changed.  Then it was all hands on deck to get the western pleasure horses and the reiners wrapped, tacked and over to the warm-up ring.  C rode and took a blue, but I missed it holding a horse.  Eric was in and out, hopping on to warm up the Country English horses and then changing gears to the more sedate western pleasure.  I went where pointed, held what was handed to me, ran for electrical tape to fasten wraps and forgotten numbers, and just generally had a great time.

Sunday's judge was a brisk one, and classes clicked by at a steady rate helped by the fact that the numbers were a bit thinner than on Saturday.  For some, I think the regional show for Region 10 in Saint Paul is a much closer drive than the the one in Lincoln, Nebraska for Region 6, so they didn't stay.

Eric's second ride on Buddy resulted in another blue ribbon.  He made it look effortless.  Back in his stall, I took Buddy's mane down for the second time and turned him loose to eat, drink and nap until it was time to get ready again. In the meantime, the six or seven junior riders scrambled in and out of Country English, costume, show hack and western pleasure garb and back in again, sometimes multiple times.  Parents scurried around, E and C ticked off classes, shuttled horses, and made the whole machine run smoothly. I don't think either of them sat down once all day for longer than 30 seconds at a stretch.

Time flew by - helped out by the decision to cut the supper break to 15 minutes - and it was time for Buddy and I to go out again.  Eric shooed me off to dress, although at least I managed to fly through my change quickly enough to get back in time to at least help get Buddy tacked up.  We didn't do much warm-up, I just walked some easy circles in the hold area outside the ring.  Buddy was alert and paying attention, and when the gate opened, in we trotted, me prepared for a repeat of the morning's tug-o-war.

What I wasn't prepared for was how tired he was.  Our trot was great.  The canter transition was correct, but it felt like the transition to hand gallop wasn't coming and wasn't coming, and he broke to trot in front of the judge before I could catch him.  I sent him right back up, but when he did it again going the other way, I was pretty sure we wouldn't place well.   In fact, we did better than I'd anticipated, ending up with a third place ribbon.

Eric was disappointed, as he'd wanted me to qualify for another class for regionals - I was more than satisfied.  Buddy was tired, I was tired, and he gave it a good effort.  I just wasn't prepared for him to run out of steam, and I didn't help him enough.  Eric saw it too, and although he'd intended to ride him in open hunter pleasure later in the evening, he scratched.  Buddy was done.

Once again, someone else pulled tack.  I rehung my soggy shirt and breeches, played a completely different kind of tug-of-war getting my boots off, stepped into my jeans and yanked my much slobbered upon, very dirty sweatshirt back over my head.  Buddy was standing patiently in his stall, tied and still braided, but it was the work of only a few moments to fingercomb his braids out and resettle him in his blanket.  A clean damp rag to wipe off the shiny eye goop, and I turned him loose so he could relax.

The handful of classes left went by in a more relaxed fashion.  C showed me how to braid and sock tails, and I helped with that, then made the rounds with more clean damp rags to make clean faces.  Parents started trailing by with garment bags full of show clothes.  The girls emerged from the dressing room in jeans and sans glittery hair jewelry.  Horses dozed standing, hips cocked or in a couple cases, flat out in their stalls.  The show was winding down, and with the last of Eric's horses back, suddenly it was time to start packing up.

I stayed to help with the breakdown, both because I hate being one of those people that lets someone else do all the dirty work and because quite frankly I was having a good time.  I wasn't the only one.  Many hands made lighter work, and by nine the first load of horses was well on the way home, tack was packed, and all of the curtains were down, rugs folded, and everyone had a chance to finally sit down for a bit.  With enough hands left to do the final load out, I headed for home, another hour's drive in front of me before I could call it a night.

All in all?  It was an interesting experience.  Everyone was more than kind, and made me feel really welcome. I learned.  A lot.  I'm still pretty sure I'm not cut out for showing on that level, but it was an adrenaline trip I won't forget in a hurry.

I took a Tylenol and fell into bed, waking up this morning to the reality of a ton of dirty laundry, a lawn with knee high dandylions, and two lawn mowers that refuse to start.  Gotta love Mondays. And Sunny, Thunder and I are going to do this again next weekend?  I must be nuts!

Spring Show Day One - Saturday

Buddy (a.k.a Shalisahn)

 This year's spring Arab show ran two days, with a different judge each day.  A first or second in Saturday's show qualified riders to advance to the (larger) Region 10 show.  The Spring Show is an annual one, but while I've attended frequently, I've never participated, so this weekend was an eye-opening experience in more ways than one.  Viewed from the back end, the whole process gets a lot more complex.  Especially given that my last significant showing experience of the non-halter variety was in 4-H, 20+ odd years ago!

Thanks to the supreme efficiency of a mother-daughter team who managed the list of who was in what, wearing what, and when, and juggled tack, riders and horses accordingly, Eric was free to stay near the warm-up area either riding or coaching, dispensing encouragement and displaying an amazing amount of patience, not to mention endurance.  The exact horse count eludes me, but there were between 15 and 20, and of the 80 classes, he was either riding or had horses and riders in well over half of them.  No halter horses, which at least made the mornings a little less early and much less hectic.

Classes ranged between one and six or so entries, so they weren't huge, which was nice.  The judge on Saturday was a bit more leisurely with her pacing than Sunday's.  Even so, Eric's class with Buddy snuck up and bit us in the butt.  Back-to-back classes right before left him no time for warm-up, and a too-loose braid (my fault) on Buddy saw him doing a quick re-braid as they called his class.  Luckily, a gate-hold gave him just enough time to be on and in without too much delay.

Even with a very forward Buddy who was still channeling his inner English Pleasure horse, Eric made earning his blue ribbon look easy.  I made mental notes on the judge's timing for gait transitions, not that it did me much good, as the judges both days were fans of changing up the order.   

I didn't ride until after the supper break, but I kept busy enough during the wait before my class that I didn't have time to be nervous.  Mom and daughter were politely cautious, and properly, cautious of my offer to assist at first, but as I said to both of them, "If there's something you think I can do that needs doing, point me at it.  If I'm in your way, tell me to get out of it - I won't take offense."  And once they determined that I a) meant it, b) knew which bits of a horse to stay out from under, and c) could take direction, they gradually assigned me more responsible tasks.

It seemed like no time at all before Eric was braiding Buddy again while I was off scrambling into breeches and blouse, stabbing myself with the stockpin, and struggling into tall boots.  Why does it seem like if they fit properly, they never want to go on - or come off?!  Helmet, gloves, and Oh, CRAP!  I need a number!  Which was still pinned on Eric's hunt coat and thankfully easy to locate, although getting it  pinned on resulted in more pin pricks.  What felt like no time at all in the warm-up arena, and they were calling my class. 

Buddy and I trotted in first, and with no idea who or how many were following us, (and I'm still not sure if it was 5 or 6!) I simply sent him forward at a working trot, trying to keep my rate even.  The judge called almost immediately for a canter followed by hand gallop, walk, reverse 4 steps, canter, hand gallop, trot and then had us line up.  Rate was a challenge the entire class, and I couldn't quite keep Buddy low enough.  Still, I managed to find all my diagonals correctly, we caught both leads, and hand gallop was definitely a GALLOP.  I mostly remembered to look up and around my corners, and did my best to make it all look effortless.

It felt like no time at all start to finish, although from taping a couple of classes for other riders earlier in the day, I'd guess it took somewhere between 6 and 8 minutes.  I was soaked, Buddy was not.  The announcer called Buddy's number - second! - although I had no idea they meant me until I heard my name, as I'd not even looked at the placard I'd pinned on, and probably wouldn't have retained it if I had.

After a minor altercation in which Buddy wanted to exit the ring slightly more hurriedly than I did, Eric expressed himself mildly surprised at our second - he thought I'd be pinned first, but I was more than satisfied with our first outing.  In the brief few moments before he turned his attention to the next rider going in, we agreed that I needed to work on rate and not let Buddy build speed down the long sides.  Other than that, I was happy, he was pleased, and that was all there was time for.

I'd forgotten to ask anyone to tape my ride, and the light level combined with the dust hanging in the arena made taking pictures of the actual classes pointless (I'd experimented earlier in the day, and I have numerous blurry shots to prove it).  Too bad, too, as it was probably my best ride of the weekend.

Friday Pre-Show Ride

Eric trailered horses over Thursday, and by the time T and I arrived for my pre-show ride on Friday everything was set up and the arena was already bustling.  The show site was the W.H. Lyons Fairgrounds in Sioux Falls.  Big indoor arena and warm-up ring, stalling for a couple hundred horses, bleachers, concessions, etc.  It's a nice space, and I've been there enough for various things that I already knew where everything was, which was helpful.

The standard uniform for horses was blankets and Sleazys.  The standard uniform for the two-footed crowd was blue jeans and sweatshirts.  I felt more than a little overdressed in my breeches and half-chaps, but I still have enough trouble keeping my lower leg where it belongs that I wanted the extra stick-um.  Oh well.

Eric had schooling sessions scheduled straight through the day with all of his riders.  Unlike some of the other trainers who had two or three riders out at once, he was taking his students one at a time, with only a slight overlap during cool down.  T and I were a bit early, but by the time I had my tack hauled in and Buddy polo-wrapped, bell-booted and saddled, he was ready for me. 

Buddy seemed to recall his previous outings as a halter horse and with Eric under saddle, because the bright lights and busy surroundings didn't phase him much.  He did, however, have plenty of energy from standing in his stall most of the day.  Eric hopped on first and made a couple of laps on an obviously fresh horse before he dismounted and sent me back for a longe line. On the line, Buddy hit the gallop button and Eric let him set his own rate and blow off some steam - the arena footing was pretty deep, and it didn't take long before Buddy was ready to slow down.   

With the bouncy edge worn off, Buddy settled in and worked nicely for Eric through all three gaits.  Then it was my turn.  He was a little looky at the far end where some bright orange signs and a yapping dog, combined with all of the usual moving-in activities of another barn were going on, but following the advice to just keep asking fo an inside bend, we made it successfully past.  On down the long side we passed the announcer's table with plenty of additional "interesting" stuff to eyeball without incident. 

Buddy felt good - I felt like I'd forgotten everything I'd learned.  But with a couple of laps under our belts without any real silliness, the butterflies flew away and I could focus.  The hardest part was not so much managing Buddy, but avoiding collisions.  While common sense and ring etiquette would suggest that riders stay on the same direction around the circle, not everyone subscribed.  And with three horses being longed in the middle, what should have been ample space for avoiding disaster became somewhat less generous.

We didn't school overly long.  Just enough to figure out where the potential trouble spots would be.  All three gaits both directions, and the sense that Buddy was listening and paying attention.  I was happy with it.

Then it was back to his stall to untack and a trip to the wash rack for a rinse.  Which was an adventure all in itself.  Clear across on the far side of the building, it's a low-ceilinged, concrete-floored room big enough for six (well-mannered) horses to be washed simultaneously.  Think high school locker room showers, except with tie-rails and hoses. And water that stayed warm for the duration.  It also had foot-wide drain grates running the length and width. 

Buddy was not thrilled about the grates.  And his front shoes made an impressively loud noise on impact with the floor.  But the warm water obviously felt good, and he stood nicely for his rinse.  I basically just sluiced him down and then slicked the drips off with my hand having forgotten to grab a scraper.

Back at his stall again, once Buddy was dry and redressed in his Sleazy and blanket, he tucked into water and hay.  I finished getting my stuff arranged in the tack stall.  My first class wasn't until Saturday after the supper break.  I'd have a chance to watch Eric ride Buddy in the PB Hunter Pleasure Limit Horse class earlier in the day, and I was eager to see him go and get a better sense of how he'd be in an actual class.

Lesson Day: Dancer, and some new developments

Yesterday was snowy.  In the 30's, but the white stuff started pre-dawn and it just kept coming.  Since the plows cut a swath down our street yet (they tend to leave a foot-high crusty ridge across the end of the driveway) and Eric doesn't plow his driveway, either, when I left for my lesson I elected to drive the big truck which has dependable 4-wheel drive.  On the way over - it's about 12 miles - I was practically the only vehicle on the road.  Visibility wasn't great, but the road had been plowed and salted, so it was sloppy more than slippery.  The wind was just starting to pick up and send runners out across the highway, and as I drove I watched the temperature tick down from mid-30's to upper-20's. 

Eric sent me right out after Dancer.  When I called to him from the gate his ears pricked up and he actually walked over to meet me - of course, when he spotted the halter dangling from my hand he ducked away and trotted back through the other horses.  But he stopped after about 20 feet and turned back towards me, pricked his ears at a firm "whoa" and stood while I walked up and slipped his halter on.

Inside he was much less anxious in the cross ties - he didn't deposit even one pile for me to scoop.  Which compared to five or six times he decorated the floor before our first lesson is pretty indicative of how anxious he was!

He made up for his new-found calm in the indoor, however, as he hadn't seen the plastic sheeting covering the outside door before.  Plastic, even see-through, stationary plastic, eats pintos and must be treated with extreme caution in case it attacks.

But I stuck with him, and by using some gradually increasing circles we eventually managed to use the whole way round rather than riding a big circle with one seriously flat side.  Once he'd settled at the walk in both directions, Eric had me step him into a working trot and we focused on maintaining a consistent level of collection.  I got lots of practice at encouraging elevation without letting him get hollow, and at changing rate without letting him get hollow, and at transitions without letting him get hollow... hmmm - I think I'm seeing a pattern here - LOL!

Midway through the lesson Eric had me take the horse he was riding for a couple of rounds.  The gelding - a big, lean, snakey-necked chestnut half-Arab with a long narrow head - arrived last week.  He's been shown western pleasure, but for a change of scene is going to go hunt seat this year.  Eric wanted to see how his trot was shaping up under a rider, which was cool.  Although since Eric rides a good two holes longer, posting was kind of a challenge.

Back on Dancer, Eric tortured me with some two-point at a long-rein trot, then collect up and it was on to canter.  The actual canter was great - the first downward transition was kind of ugly.  Hollow-city, because I forgot to maintain leg contact.  I had a couple that were better later, but none of them were stellar.

Eric's always stressing that the cue to collect comes from the rider's inside leg first - you squeeze them up into the bridle by asking them to lift their barrel and step underneath from behind.  I've been doing my best to practice this consistently with Sunny, and I think it's one of the reasons his transitions are getting to be soft and round.  I think I've mention at least once or twice how quickly Dancer gets hollow - my personal goal last night was to see if I could get him to collect that softly.  I think I managed it a couple of times, at least in the upward direction. 

It's probably a sign of how far I've come in terms of being able to focus on and feel what I'm doing that as we rode we actually managed to carry on a conversation around the "shoulders back" and "lift your rib-cage" and "are you remembering to pulse and release your heel?" - I've been watching classes at the Scottsdale Arabian show, and I had some questions.  Some of which I actually remembered.  I know I can always look up the answers, but getting an actual trainer's perspective is fascinating.

Anyway... Eric has mentioned me showing this season a couple of times.  And okay, I'm flattered, but... as he's told me - and after watching the half-Arabian classes at Scottsdale this week, I can't disagree, Sunny plainly isn't built to be a breed-show level show horse.  He's too small, among other things.  Oh, we'll hit some local open shows this summer and I have every intention of enjoying it, but when I think of the clipping, coat, mane and tail maintenance, not to mention the pulling, braiding, banding, etc. required for a polished turnout at a regional breed show ... um... not really in my wheelhouse. 

So when Eric brought the subject up again last night I was (again) pleased that he thinks I've improved enough to make it worth his while to want me to show. (Because clearly, any credit I'd collect would of course reflect back on the trainer - lol!) But Sunny hasn't suddenly shot up two hands worth or equally magically gained 6" of neck length, nor have I gotten any more competitive or desirous of trying to keep his tubby self in anything resembling a svelte show figure. 

But this time Eric accompanied his suggestion that I show with a proposal.... and after pondering it for the remainder of my lesson and Dancer's cool-down and post-ride brushing... I said yes.  Intrigued?  Me, too!  More details coming soon...

Lesson Day: Dancer, Hunt Seat

I'm full of pizza and there's a warm purring cat on my lap, and another one curled up on the back of the couch by my shoulder.  I'm trying very hard not to fall asleep, so if this gets incoherent, blame it on the cats!

Another day in the high 40's.  Checked the boys around noon, and contemplated the mess I'd need to make to get the trailer hitched up.... Nope, sorry Sunny, no pony ride for you today.  Maybe if it's still warm and the ground is drier next week.

Arrived at Eric's just in time to help wrangle some goats - they'd been inside to get their physicals (health check, shots & what-not) and were not thrilled at the prospect of being stuck back in the horse trailer for a quick jaunt back to their usual location.  Once that was done and only one - temporary - escapee, too! Eric asked  what I felt like working on.  Since show season is coming (gulp) it was time to choose a discipline to focus on.

Since I'm not made of cash, picking one for which I'm already semi-prepared seemed wise, which left out saddleseat.  And actually, western pleasure, too - I have the basics, but those show outfits are pricey with a capital $$$.  Not to mention, none of the three horses at my disposal are geared for the extreme collection and control of western pleasure.  Not that they're built for saddleseat, either!

Long story short, I went for hunt seat - it's what Sunny and I have been working on, I have the tack, and most of the show stuff - at least for the level I'm going to be at.  And if Sunny's not quite built to be a hunt horse either, at least we can have some fun.

So... Eric pulled Dancer out for me.  Dancer's a TALL bay pinto.  Heavy on the Arab look, but with a high-set neck and upright shoulder and an impressive set of hindquarters.  He had the energy and action to be a Country English horse, but not the throatlatch - too thick - so he ended up being a hunt horse.  He's (like a lot of Eric's stand-bys) rocking an impressive resume, but it's been a few years since he top-ten'd at Scottsdale.   And none of Eric's students did hunt last year, so it's been a while since he's been ridden, too.  "He has all the buttons, but they may be a bit sticky," was how Eric put it.

I practiced my be-calm breathing as I brushed him.  He swayed and sidled back and forth in the cross-ties, watching everything with big eyes.  Well, the goats still inside were a bit loud...  But he picked his feet up politely and dropped his head like a gentleman for the bit, so maybe I wasn't going to die.

Tacked and ready to go, we headed for the outdoor arena.  "He doesn't stand very well when you get on, so just sit deep and turn him in a small circle if he starts to walk off."   Sure, but first I have to get my foot all that way up there!  Sheesh, am I glad I ride a short horse.  And sadly, Dancer's "doesn't stand very well" label could be far more fairly applied to Sunny.  I think Dancer took about two steps all three times I mounted. (Stirrups, girth tightening.... still can't quite get the hang of adjustments from on top.)

I learned two things about Dancer immediately - he's incredibly light-sided, and he'll get hollow at the twitch of a finger.  Which meant I had to be very consistent, very vigilant, and very steady, especially with my legs.   Getting him to relax and stretch into contact at a walk was challenging.  He wanted to get hollow and jig, and if I lost focus at all, he fell apart.  Anticipating the trot and canter would be the same, I wasn't eager to try the faster gaits, but they arrived anyway.

And oddly enough, the walk turned out to be his worst gait.  Trot was much easier to rate although he'd still pop up and get hollow, and he was still quick to speed up if I used too much leg, but at least it wasn't jiggy and rushed.  Canter turned out to be much the same story - in fact, it was easier to keep him round and balanced, even to the right which was his stiffer direction.

I asked about it, because usually going faster doesn't make small issues like rushing disappear - usually it makes them worse.  Apparently, Dancer'd been over-schooled on transitions under a previous rider.  Because the rider's walk/canter transitions weren't the best, he'd practiced and practiced and practiced them, until Dancer was almost leaping into the canter at the slightest hint that he needed to speed up.  It may have improved the rider's transitions, but it didn't do good things for Dancer's walk.  No kidding.  

After we'd worked through the gaits in both directions, Eric had me let him stretch for a few laps, then ask him to step into the trot on a loose rein, then gradually collect him and ask for a canter.  Two-point, maintaining frame, hand-gallop, then sit and back to a more collected canter, and finally to a very collected canter.  Wow.  Like riding a bubble.  Downward transition to walk, loosen reins, stretch, and walk until cool.

It was a challenging lesson for me, partially for my hang-ups.  Initially I had to think very determinedly calm thoughts and not let Dancer's unease in the cross-ties make me nervous, too.   Jigging isn't one of my favorite things, either, especially when I know faster is coming. 

Eric's getting pickier, too - it isn't enough that I do it correctly most of the time, I need to do it correctly, period. And make it look pretty, and easy - LOL!  And he asks me to feel what needs to be fixed.  Seriously, though - I like that he gives me a chance to feel and make adjustments on my own before he tells me what I need to do.  And being pushed a bit means I do it, rather than wimping out like I'd do on my own.

Hopefully I'll get a chance to practice with Sunny tomorrow - the pasture looked better today when I was out.  And if nothing else, even walking there's always something to be worked on.