I travelled to Somerset on the Friday before competing on Saturday and Frank had stabling booked on West Sedgemoor. As usual, the M5 was congested from Severn bridge to Taunton and as afternoon turned into evening I scrapped plans to walk the course in favour of going straight to Sedgemoor for a much needed cup of tea. The whole point of travelling down the day before was so that I could walk the course the night beforehand – then spend a sleepless night worrying about it. Frank had been bathed before leaving Swansea, stud holes prepared and mane pulled. Mane and tail were plaited just as it was beginning to get dark – one less thing to have to worry about in the morning. After a lovely dinner, cooked by my good friend, Gerald, it was time for an early night ready for the day ahead and alarm set for 5.30am.

As Frank was having breakfast I mucked out and it wasn’t long before we were on the road for the 40 min journey to Pontispool, Norton Fitzwarren, just west of Taunton. On arrival, at about 7.30am, I went to collect my numbers then set off to walk SJ and XC courses. I noted that the first XC fence, as is often the case, was a flower box. Now Frank has had issues with these at earlier events this season. He stopped at Mount Ballan, Calmsden and Dauntsey flower boxes so I was determined to get him over this one first time. As I stood by the flower box I looked back at the start box, chose a direct line and imagined Frank flying over it. Feeling pressure of time I hurried on to fences 2 (brush) and 3 (stickpile) sweeping up to fence 4, owl hole. Fence 5a was a hanging log on a mound then sharp left for a skinny part b then onto 6, a chunky bar top before fence 7a & b – irish banks with ditches before and after. Mental note – kick on here and look up. Fence 9 at the bottom of steep decline – an innocuous saddle rack roll top then onto a trakehner (10). Again, this could be a problem for Frank if he looks down and sees the ditch hiding there. Next fence (11) was straightforward – a picket fence into shade then two steps up into the light then onto the hanging log before the water (13). It was here I caught up with a camera man positioning tripods ready for video – we discussed where best to place it and being distracted here I lost count of the fences – I could see flags into the water and looked around to find the fence out – it wasn’t clear – there appeared to be two options – one clearly for the 80 – so the other one must be mine – it was a rather substantial corner on a tricky line out of the water. Hmmmm, I thought, that’s a bit big for a 90. Oh well, onto the next – a hay cart (14) then a long low inviting fence called the dog kennels 15, part b of which was just after a sharpish left turn – two pheasant feeders on an angle (16) next then a brush to finish (17). No real worries there I thought – apart of course from the flower box and that corner out of the water. Frank was calm and collected for the dressage and warmed up nicely – we did a rather good test which I thought worthy of about 37. Just 40 mins to prep for the showjumping – this sounds like plenty of time but after a quick wash down, tack change, boots on, spurs off, water and so on it is time to get into the SJ warm up. Time is needed to steady nerves, check the SJ course again: absolutely sure of the route and to get Frank in the right frame of mind and body for the SJ. He’s much more level headed than he was at Dauntsey and Calmsden – no broncing or squealing but he felt quite elastic, supple and full of energy. Remembering to breathe, take it easy, keep collected, keep reins short, hands down, make full use of the arena for a good approach, not let Frank get too long and flat we had a lovely clear round and I was pleased with our performance as Frank, bless him, had listened to me all the way round. Preparing for XC i had time to sit in the lorry and go through the route with reference to the event program. Sarah Thorne popped over for a quick chat about training as I had been trying to organise something with her whilst I was down in the SW. Suddenly, I checked my phone and much to my alarm realised I was late for XC. Shit! I jumped on and made my way over there. All thoughts now jumbled and nerves jangled. Feeling hot, thirsty and jittery I’m internally cursing myself for being late – I felt like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. Suddenly, there’s my friend Jo – just on her way back from the secretary’s tent. ‘Hello Jools’ she says breezily, smiling (and Jo has a lovely smile) ‘I’m late’ I spat out through gritted teeth …’I’m late’. How rude of me I thought instantly… oh shit I’m late and now I hate myself even more for being so sharp with Jo…. Best not try and talk to anyone before XC – we can be quite evil.

The XC steward was lovely. We’re running a little late he says, don’t worry. You don’t have to go down to the start box until you are ready so take your time and warm up. Huge sigh of relief. Managed to calm my nerves a little and pop a couple of practice fences – Frank feels fine. I feel quite weak, as usual, arms and legs like jelly – a mixture of low blood sugar, dehydration, caffeine and adrenaline – not a good state to be in and I feel like I just need to go and lie down. In and around the start box I muttered something to the starter like ‘Frank doesn’t like flower boxes or first fences’ and I’m trying to force a mental image of Frank flying over the flower box into my frozen brain…. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and we’re off. We shot out of the box like an arrow and every cell in my body willed Frank over that fookin flower box… which he flew over at top speed. He went round that XC like a pro – coming back to me when I asked and galloping flat out in between. The only fence he looked at was the irish bank ditchy thing but I was ready with my legs and hands for his fraction of a second, momentary, mini zig zag. Flying down the hill, trying to steady up for fence 9 at the bottom, he came back to me and popped it sweetly before bounding off for the trakehner which he cleared easily. Sensing the homeward stretch he took a strong pull into the dark and I think he would have bounded up the two steps as one if I had let him go…Over the hanging log and into the water cantering out in a lovely rhythm popped neatly over the chunky box corner. It was by far our best XC round ever.

As soon as Frank was settled I was eager to get over and have a look at the scores. Well, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There must be a mistake. Eliminated. What? How come? I have a score of 36 dressage – best score this season, clear showjumping but eliminated XC and 4.4 too fast time faults. There must be a mistake surely. Er no, explained the secretary, who looking at me askance said ‘you jumped two of the bigger fences on the course – including the first fence’. Me, astonished, looked at her with incredulity. Speechless. Trying desperately to process this news thinking oh no you stupid twonk. ‘Yes, you jumped the 100 cm flowerbox and the Novice fence out of the water’. Trying to establish some presence of mind here and trying to work out whether I should feel stupid or stoked – I opted for the latter. Inside I was bursting with glee… I jumped the bigger fences… I jumped the bigger flower box…. he he! Oh, I needed to share this with someone….I skipped over to see Kirsty at the Kicking Horse stand and asked if she wanted to hear a funny story. It seems that it doesn’t matter where I go or what I do – there’s always a funny story. I have to say I laughed about this all the way home.

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