After two events were abandoned due to bad weather the season got off to a slow start which was a bit annoying as Frank was superfit and keen to burn off some energy. Had some exciting hacks! With pontispool and Mount Ballan ticked off the list i was really looking forward to Treborough. Frank was shod 5 days before Trebs so everything was ready. Only it wasn’t. Frank was as lame as a cat after shoeing on both front feet. Farrier coolly explained that he’d put the shoes on a bit tight. What?! So, no treborough for us… or Chepstow…. or Bicton. I was so disappointed. It took about five weeks for Frank to come sound. He has a different farrier now.While Frank was off work we had a heatwave and the ground baked… and cracked and became like bedrock. Still, off we went to Dauntsey. Optimistic as ever i thought the 90 course looked easy and i was looking forward to competing. Frank was stabled at Beanie Sturgess’s lovely yard…all I had to do was learn the dressage test. Franks 5 weeks off had not really helped. Comments from the judge included exciting transitions… as Frank bronced going into canter. We demolished the SJ course as Frank decided it would be fun to go round as fast as possible. By the time we got to go XC his brains were fried – just as i heard the comentator say how Frank loved to go XC Frank slammed on the brakes at the first fence. The shame. We had more refusals then the big E at fence 8. Bugga. The walk of shame was executed sideways and backwards and when we got back to the start Frank looked like he’d been to a foam party. Too many oats in the bucket…To cheer myself up i bought socks and t shirts from Kicking AssWe had never been eliminated before. It took a bit of getting used to. Frank just had too much energy and his time off had not been managed very well. I was continually anxious about his feet and didnt want to push him too hard because of the hard ground for fear it might make his splint worse…Frank has oats now after he has worked hard rather than in anticipation of being worked hard. This suits him very well.

Arrival and course walk

Arrived Saturday evening after a clear and uneventful (TF) run down the M4 and 5. As soon as I had settled Frank in to his stable I went to walk the course. Extreme thunder, lightening and bursts of heavy rain found me running back to the lorry park for my life. Fence 11, situated at the top of a hill in the middle of a stand of tall trees, looked like a good lightening magnet so I decided to leave inspection of that fence for another day. I love Pontispool XC course – this is where Frank and I had our BE 80 debut a couple of years earlier and I love to go back there. The course always manages to look like a mini badminton with a huge variety of fences and two water complexes. Moving from 80 to 90 there are more questions concerning which lines and alternative fences to take. At BE 80 lines are fairly direct and obvious… at 90, lines between fences, approaches and landings are not so clear. I was a little concerned about the skinny fourth element of fence 8 (which had an easier alternative) and I worried about the two ditches – one deep, water filled ditch (14a) and one ditch at the bottom of fence 15, a big hedge. Whilst Frank has jumped ditches, in all their various guises, team chasing he had stopped at the intermediate ditch at Pembrey a week earlier and despite all my efforts I could not persuade him to get to the other side.

So, back to the lorry, kettle on and a rummage through my fairly meagre supplies found a scotch egg from my favourite deli in Swansea. I ate half of this, some tomatoes, a bit of cheese and tea and a ginger biscuit. Too tired to have much of an appetite and couldn’t wait to get in my new sleeping bag which made me look like an aubergine. It was midnight before I shut my eyes and I don’t think I spent much time on my mental gymnastics (imagining jumping ditches with ease) before I slipped into the land of deep nod

Sunday morning and second course walk

Slept well but woke before crack of sparra …fumbled for my phone and squinted at the screen 5.45am… oh God, thats early….as dawn chorus cranked up I was lured out of sleeping bag by thoughts of tea and ginger biscuits. While the kettle boiled I made alpha A, oats and linseed breakfast for Frank and popped up to his stable. Found him lying down and blinking….bless. Looks like he’s had a good sleep then…face covered in poo. Getting back into my sleeping bag I contemplated the day ahead. Energised by tea I then mucked out, filled haynets and topped up water buckets. Walked XC course again. Having studied fence 8 more closely I decided to take the alternative option for 8d. Although this would take extra seconds it was better than risking a run out over the skinny. Found ‘lightening magnet’ fence 11 which was a rather chunky looking wagon at the top of a hill. Running down from fence 11 to the second water feature I managed to slip down the slippery track by the pond. As i reached out I grabbed hold of blackberry brambles and nettles, caught my left arm on the fence and removed some skin. Ouch. I hoped this was not a bad omen but I know I have better balance on Frank than I have on my own two feet….and I don’t believe in all that omen nonsense anyway. Skipped out the stable, plaited mane and tail and prepared stud holes. Have to put Frank in the lorry to plait his forelock and organise partitions so tight he can’t move…like a cattle crush. If Frank feels the plait touch his forehead (before it’s been folded up) he thinks it’s some alien antennae and freaks out to try to remove it from his head. This has to be seen to be believed. If he’s loose when this happens then fucking run……

As I was almost last to go XC I had running commentary all day over the PA system on all the problems the ditch had been causing throughout the day. I could see some of these difficulties from the viewing platform as I drank coffee next to the show jumping arena. Around midday, I bumped into a friend whose horse was in the lead with an amazing score of 24 after SJ ‘how did you do XC? I asked excitedly. ‘I fell off’ she said. ‘In the ditch’. Noooooooooooo. Now I really was worried about the ditches.

Dressage

was at 3.30. I won’t say much about this as its really bloody boring. The day, by now has turned into a scorcher and I am boiling in the bag. I haven’t eaten all day, feel a bit sick (on account of intrusive thoughts of ditches) have been up for eight hours and would like to lie down now. Anyway, better tack up and get dressed: hat, gloves, boots, stock – bonkers kit for a hot day eh? So get down to the dressage arena and see that my sheepskin numnah is really wonk: sigh, dismount, re-adjust, scramble back on. Take Frank for a li’l blast up the field to try and get some wind chill… do a couple of circuits like this then go and stand under a tree and watch a test or two from the shade. No idea of the time I try a few desultory transitions, Eeeeesh its hot. Go for another fast canter…on my return the steward is beckoning me in. What? Me? Now? I thought they were having a break…. ‘no thats after your test’ the steward informed me. So, in we tootled – Frank alternately behind and in front of my leg. The straight bits were a bit 7’ish, the bends a bit 6’ish – but on a good note, no errors of course, we stayed within the boards, correct canter leads (which this time last year would have been a miracle) and the test was accurate. I hadn’t warmed up enough on account of feeling I was about to pass out with the heat and the whole test felt little more than satisfactory if a little insufficient in places.

Showjumping

We went into the showjumping on a score of 39. Actually managed to walk the SJ course this time and noted four dog leg turns – but all in all it looked OK – nothing we haven’t done before and the fences looked small. We had a 5-10 minute warm up and I was keen to get in. I enjoyed this round. I focussed on every fence and kept my reins short. Frank listened and waited for instruction – he was smooth and careful and CLEAR.

XC

Now for the best bit. Would the ditches be bitches? Would he refuse the first fence like he had at Mount Ballan? Would we go for the fastest route and fence 8 and 10 or opt for chicken run? So many possibilities… Come on Frank – lets do it

Frank is oingy boingy in the XC warm-up and is squealing and broncing with excitement. I love it when he’s like this. It’s his way of telling me he’s ready to go and has energy to burn baby burn. Into the start box: 5-4-3-2-1-go. Not wanting a repeat of Mount Ballan and a stop at the first I kick on and he pulls me into it…. a good fast gallop to fence 2 the pheasant feeder and a curve to the right for the bar top. Pick up a bit of speed to the dog kennels (4) and fly over that. Going a bit too fast on the approach to the horseshoe pond so apply some brakes. I can feel Frank back off ever so slightly as he takes in the view of the water after 5a…so I squeeze and we are in the water turning sharp right and heading for the boat then onto fence 7, the gate and gallop down to fence 8 where I couldn’t resist a loud yeeeeeeee ha! Over the hanging log (a) into the sunken road (b) and out (c). By now the steering strings are very long and i have to make a quick decision… skinny fence (d) or safer but longer alternative. Frank’s going so well so steering him with my knees we go for the skinny which he pops over like a pro then speeds away thro the trees looking for the next fence. 9 is the quarry log and then we slip thro a narrow gap between a large hoarding and an intermediate fence onto the owl hole which he refused last year but not this time. A long pull up to the wagon at 11 which he jumps quite big

– I close my eyes on landing as there’s a bit of a drop here. Down to the second water and quickly in and out, over the log at 13 then down to the ditch. Frank is really pulling now as he can see the lorry park. I know the first ditch is coming up so i half halt, lift his head, reins now in one hand whip in the other every cell in my body screaming GET OVER THAT DITCH… He sees the ditch now and momentarily backs off but a good heeeee shah in the ribs and a scream and he jumps it grand canyon stylee. The steering strings are too long now and by the time I get my shizzle together we have overshot part b. So pleased to get him over the ditch though I don’t care….onto the penultimate fence and here comes another fcuker…. ditch in front of a hedge this time but he clears this as if it wasn’t even there and gallops off for a speedy finish. The end.

Frank: There’s this li’l Arab horse on the competition and training circuit that’s getting more attention than me. Now my mother’s got one of these grey things an he’s a right li’l fairy. Won’t jump a stick… fast mind… he’s 25 and like lightening. I can’t keep up with him ….but when I do, I bite his ass. Mother still loves him, baths him, and rides him bareback and bitless…. it’s ridiculous really, phah! Anyway, this grey horse, Masta, is a different kettle of fish. He’s brave and bold and can really jump. Look at what he did today

My mum took him XC jumping once after I’d trod on a pebble and pulled a sickie. So, it looks like he’s coming to Treborough with me for his first BE. This should be fun. His mother’s about the same age as mine and tbh they should be knitting or gardening or sumat but they crazee laydees and although they can barely walk first thing in a morning there’s no stopping them once they get on board their four legged zimmer frames. Anyway the first time I met Masta properly was at the BRC championship jumping competition at the Gower Riding Club field yesterday. We parked up next to one another, shared a blade of grass or two and had a bit of a natter. He’s what we talked about….

Frank: Hey dude…. we’re off to Trebs, has your mother told you? The hotel we got booked on Exmoor is 5 star and they have fresh spring water on tap. It’s bloody great. Long drive though mate but at least I have some company this time and you can share my net. Do you fart a lot? I hope not, it’s a bit confined space for that dude and I fart enough for two.

Masta: Yeh, I did hear… are we traveling in that cattle truck. I heard it broke down last time you went to Exmoor an it took you 11 hours to get there. Wouldn’t like to be stuck with you for that long…I don’t fart much but my mother does so tell your mother no topping and tailing in that lorry.

Frank: Oh, one other thing mate. Don’t try and upstage me. My mother’s got an ego the size of a small planet and my life won’t be worth living if you do anything like win first time out…. you can have my carrots if you break canter in the poncing around bit we do at the beginning…he he!

Masta: Well my mum’s ego is peanut sized as she’s always doing her self down… I try hard to do the right thing… I can’t help it…I’m Crabbet see…. it’s in my genes…

Frank: My mother’s been trying to get me in the right frame….in my last place they used to tie my beak in with reins attached to that tight strap that goes round the belly. But now it seems that this is the wrong way. I’ve spent years going round looking like I’m checking to see if the old chap is still there, now they want me to stick my head in the air. Wish they’d make their freakin minds up. I’ve now gotta work my ass off getting my back legs under… well I tell you that’s bloody hard work mate. I’ve checked out my outline in the mirrors and I think I look like the dog’s. I used to be a winner mate…. now apparently I’m over bent 🙄I’ve been busted and they’re on my case now. It’s a battle of wills tbh and every now and again my mother gets this shit hot rider (Katy Applin) to tutor me in the ways of righteousness. Everytime I curl up she’s on it like sonic… I get a good heeeee shaaaaaa in my ribs for my troubles and I’m almost on my ass looking at the sky…. mother can’t do this though….an it sends her a bit wobbly bonkers….

Frank: so Masta, my new bestie, what you got planned for prep for this next gig in two weeks?

Masta: Oh, we got lots of boring flat work planned…my mother’s just learnt how to get my beak in and thinks her trainer might know how to help your mother get your ass under.

Frank: hmmm…. I’ve heard that one before.

Prep for Trebs

Hey Masta, they had a meeting last night in the pub. I think lists have been made but I bet they’ve forgotten the rots again. There’s never any carrots when we go away….she takes food but never eats any of it. Last time we went away she had to borrow my horse shampoo and towels – she remembered eye liner but forgot my girth. It’s a right palaver getting the lorry ready and mum goes into headless chicken mode trying to squeeze the kitchen sink into the living. What are you like with this travelling mullarky? I’m not that keen truth be told. I had an accident in a trailer years ago now but I haven’t forgotten… it was well scary and I got injured. I didn’t want to go in a trailer ever again… I mean I will, if I really have to, but would really rather not. The lorry’ s slightly better but much as I love my food I just can’t eat….for the entire journey. As soon as i hear the Velcro on those travel boots I feel quite queasy…..

Well, after all the training, planning and preparation neither if us made it to Trebs. I had new shoes on Tues and have been lame ever since. Mastas mother had other problems and had to cancel too. Looks like it wasn’t meant to be for either of us.

Finally got to team chase after so many cancellations we got to go to Worcestershire on 29 April. I’m still yet to be able to get there early enough to walk the course so I trust my South Pembs hunt team mates to lead the way. As our intermediate class was the last of the day the going was deep and tacky and the track was quite twisty turny. There was a good variety of really well built fences over this 2 mile course and some of the 29 obstacles were quite beefy and challenging. I had changed Franks bit from a jointed American gag to a French link Cheltenham gag so I was interested to see how he went in this.

Well very early on I realised I had no brakes… slightly more control than just a snaffle but Frank jumped all the fences at a flat out gallop and I thought I was going to die. There was a pile up at the log pile and as I rode into it my team mates were turning round and coming out of it….eeesssh! After a third attempt we were all over which might explain the expression on my face in the picture here. In a flash it was all over… Frank jumped everything and as usual took charge and took care of me… this has given him so much confidence XC and as a result he gave me a superb round at Mount Ballan yesterday.

I’d like to to thank my SPH Massiv teammates for letting me fly with them. Looking forward to the Autumn team chases…