Please sign World Horse Welfare petition to stop live transportation of horses. WHW have received just 14, 781 signatures so far which as noted in letters page in Horse and Hound (10 August) is pathetic as there are over 1 million riders in the UK. Shamed into signing I have also included a donation…. Please go to World Horse welfare site and sign tinyurl.com/whwpetition Lets try and make a difference – horses are our brethren…
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First BE 90 Pontispool
I entered this on a day pass and the event is on Saturday 16th September. This was the venue for our BE debut (80 cm Training) so it will feel good to return there to go up a level as I have some familiarity with it. First, I know where it is so that takes away to stress of trying to find it. Second, I know my way around the event site and XC course. I also have friends near Taunton so I can stay with them whilst Frank has nice stabling at the venue. What could possibly go wrong?
May – the sea horse
Well, it’s 11 August and I rode Frank again yesterday for the first time since he bruised his sole cantering through a water complex at a training event three weeks ago. I have discussed his trotters in an earlier post so you may know that whilst recovering from the bruised sole on his left trotter he managed to rip off and bend the shoe on his right trotter. Two poorly front trotters also made him look lame behind and the farrier said Frank’s shoulder was the source of his lameness not his feet. What?! I have continued to shovel in the hoof supplement (3 months now of Nettex VIP Hoof Builder) and apply Anti-bac to nail holes and crumbly feet because it makes me feel better that I am doing something. Whether or not it will make Frank better we shall have to wait and see. I do love the smell of hoof oil so he’s getting some of that as well and so is anything else I ride at the moment. As Frank is kept on a busy yard there is no shortage of horses to ride. Some just need to be kept fit and some have been a bit naughty and need to be tutored in the ways of righteousness. I rode a lovely 9yo thoroughbred (TB) mare called May yesterday. I decided a beach ride would be nice and so Jaime (on Harry) and I set off about 5 ish for Oxwich. May hadn’t been to the seaside before. Somehow or other I managed to completely lose Jaime and Harry in the dunes between the road and the beach. I asked May to push through some undergrowth of bracken and blackberry brambles – she was hesitant at first because although I knew there was a path there somewhere May couldn’t see it at all. Anyway, she trusted me and burst through then kept going – I thought Jaime and Harry were following but Harry had other ideas. As May and I stumbled out into the clearing of the car park I realised we had lost Jaime. I quickly double back and spotted them disappearing around a narrow path on the outside of a building, I turned quickly back to the car park to head them off – nothing – then back to the road we had travelled down – nowhere to be seen. How odd. Anyway rather than fruitless searching I turned May to the beach. There were a few holiday makers, a lovely smell of BBQ and woodsmoke, sandcastles, lots of pebbles and seaweed. May hesitated down a short steep bank then found herself sliding down onto the deep soft sand of the beach – then she looked up and saw the sea. The tide was in and the waves were breaking close – the sight of this, the sound and the smell was just too much. Backpedalling furiously the sand just moved under her feet and she couldn’t get away from the sea. I was aware in my peripheral vision of people getting up and moving their blankets and children, a small dog barking. There was a lot of energy underneath me but the deep sand was absorbing it, I could feel her legs moving in an energetic piaffe – they were going up and down like pistons but we weren’t going anywhere and May was almost sat on her tail. I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. I tried reassuring her, to get her to go forwards, I had loose contact on the steering strings and squeezed with my legs. I wasn’t sure if she would explode or make a run for it. Poor May couldn’t work out the sea at all …. then we saw Harry – ah Harry and Jaime – specks in the distance – look May, look – its Harry – then she saw them too and we managed to get out of reverse and go forward. Phew, relief all round. Trotting over to Harry it was great to be moving forward, moving up a gear into canter May felt incredibly powerful (she has raced afterall) but was under control… then, I don’t know who started to gallop first but Harry stayed in front and neither of them was going to give in and it was neck and neck to the end of the beach, about half a mile, just before Nicholaston Pill. May slowed down and I turned her into the sea – she didn’t mind this at all and actually went in quite deep all the way toward Tor bay. I turned to check on our hacking partners only to see Jaime and Harry disappearing into the distance back to the Oxwich bay hotel. May had galloped enough for one evening I felt so we carried on into the dunes making our way back to Beynons campsite. I love this ride. It’s one of my favourites. We walked all the way back to Crickton because although May, being a thoroughbred, has some natural fitness there is still far to go and her body and legs needed time to recover. I was so pleased that she overcame her initial shock of the sea and was then quite happy to actually go in it – she would have swum in it I am sure as she is quite fearless but the saddle was too nice to get seasalt water soaked.
PS Jaime and Harry returned not long after us and we laughed at the fact that we had lost one another TWICE. Not a hack for the fainthearted ha ha!
My mental health…
Well Frank was definitely sound this evening. As he warmed up he felt loose and relaxed with an even rhythm in all three paces, smooth transitions, some good leg yielding and shoulder in. We popped a short course of small jumps and all seems fine. Frank’s porcelain pins have mended. I wonder if he’ll be sound tomorrow…fit enough for XC training with Louise Harwood at Ynys Y mond? There are two other horses i could ride and both would teach me something… it would be fun – but quite frankly, not as much fun as Frank.
When my horse is lame I become mentally ill. serious. the only cure is soundness. Today horsey seems better but i realise his legs are made of glass.
Saturday
Woke up, unnecessarily early, to a grey but settled day… wondering if Frank has recovered from his efforts yesterday and is still sound? The lesson is at 4.30 so plenty of time to trot him up and check the trotters, legs, shoulders and pelvic girdle – as all seem to have been speculated as a possible source of lameness. Undoubtedly he had a bruised sole as I was riding him when that happened. By the time my farrier came out the bruising had gone and my farrier diagnosed some shoulder lameness. The bruised sole lameness was over ridden by the pulling off of a new shoe on the other forefoot and the combination of this made him look lame behind although there was evidence that he may have been kicked on his ass (a line of scuffed raised hair). Advice is to rest, take it easy, allow him to recover slowly. I have decided, however, to take him and see how it goes – we definitely won’t be going through any water as it could be hiding pebbles….
Frank’s left foot
Frank passed his five stage vetting when I bought him three years ago (April 2014) with an advisory that his left foot might need remedial farriery – it is a slightly different shape from his right foot. Very few horses have perfectly symmetrical feet apparently. I had a chat with a farrier about this recently who explained that when young horses are grazing the awkward stance they adopt of one foreleg way out in front and the other way out back – to allow them to reach the grass – is thought to affect the shape and position of the pedal bone and hence the hoof. It is thought that this position may pull unevenly on the pedal bone and can result in some distortion of the hoof. The shape and position of the pedal bone determines the shape of the hoof. Remedial work is only effective up until the horse is 18 months old – after this time the shape of the pedal bone and hoof is set for good. Hmmmm….. discuss!
Sicknote
Whilst my grey Anglo Arabs totters are as hard as nails Franks feet are rather flaky. They always have been and he has sensitive soles. It is two weeks now since Frank bruised his sole cantering through a water complex. Each day I kept hoping he would come sound but as I watched him in the field I could see he was still walking wounded. Just the other day though some one spotted him running around the field without his crutches so I knew it was time to get back on. I started riding him again and began to feel optimistic again. The very next day though, however, he pulled a shoe off in the field. My friend, who brought him in, called me to let me know but couldn’t recall which trotter was now barefoot . They had found the shoe in the field all bent and twisted. I had a sinking feeling when I heard this… It was bound to be the left shoe. The left shoe was slightly too large for his foot as the farrier had had some difficulty finding enough wall to nail the shoe to. This would make the shoe more vulnerable to being trodden on and pulled off. Frank had been shod only a week ago – three days before he bruised his sole – it must have taken some effort to wrench that off and bend it. Shit. Frank cast a shoe last year warming up for a ODE – as the shoe detached, Frank trod on one of the nails and punctured his sole. It took six weeks to recover. Looks like I would have to cancel Homme House ODE which was to be our first attempt at a BE 90. It was with some trepidation at what I might find when I arrived at the yard to inspect the damage. Looking over the stable door I tried to see which foot was shoeless but his trotters were obscured by shavings – I thought I could just make out the toe clip on the right foot but no – that was particularly large and clean shaving. As I approached more closely I was relieved to see a shoe on the left foot! TF for small mercy’s.
About three months ago I decided, against my better judgement, to start Frank on a hoof supplement. I have flaky nails – they’ve never been any good and it doesn’t matter how much gelatine I eat or how much nail hardener I paint on – oh the money I have wasted. I will ensure Frank receives the optimum dose, every day, for at least a year. As they say, watch this space. There are so many variables that can affect horn strength such as environment, climate/weather, time of year, general health, nutrition, genetics…. that it can be difficult to know which one of these variables is the most important. Talking to a friend about her horses flaky feet it was recommended that I try anti-bac. This topical liquid (Idoloform and eucalyptus) is applied twice a week to nail holes and clenches to treat mild bacteria infection which can compromise the strength of the hoof wall. Hoof oil has mild anti-bacterial properties so I have decided to use this too and apply cornucrescine to the coronary band. This is easy in the summer months but will I be able to keep this regime up in the winter along with battling with rain, swamp conditions, mud fever and dark nights. Could mild bacteria be causing the hoof wall to crumble? Frank is susceptible to mud fever at any time of year – the bogs and ditches never dry up so there’s always somewhere for the bacteria to thrive – the bacteria-flaky feet connection seems plausible. I’ll let you know if there’s any change in the trotters….
Frank (break the bank)
Three years ago I was thinking about buying another horse. My grey Anglo Arab
(Zorab, Haroun) gelding
was 20 now and I’d given up trying to turn him into a showjumper, XC horse, dressage star or veteran show horse. All Blue wanted to do was gallop – as fast as possible and I have never ridden a swifter horse – ever. Bored of jumping 2’3 and endless senior minimus rounds where he would demolish the lot – taking down not just poles but wings and fillers too I took to riding and jumping him bareback – with just a halter. He had ability to jump but no desire whatsoever to get airborne. He taught me a lot – about persuading a horse to jump and about staying on.
Anyway…this blog is about my story….it is concerned with my love of horses from Skegness donkeys (where it all began) and Terry’s riding school through experiences as a working pupil and full time groom to looking for and buying my first horse, Blue Bijoux, to following my recent eventing experiences with Frank – the show horse turned eventer.
Horse trials… Lorry trials
June 2017
I’m not a morning person but was up at crack of sparra yesterday for XC training at Sapey. Leaving the yard, in Llanrhidian, near Swansea, at 6.30, I managed to get as far as Hirwaun, near Merthyr when the exhaust fell off 😳 Struggling with poor mobile signal I then made various phone calls to equine breakdown service – who suggested I call the police because of the location (busy road between two roundabouts). Later on I called my mechanic back in Swansea and tried to call BE to let the venue know I would not be attending. After two hours of hanging around on the increasingly busy A465 in pouring rain buffeted by trucks and articulated lorries a breakdown vehicle arrived. The fitter who looked about 15 years old suggested the broken section of exhaust could be removed and I would be able to get home without the need for horse transport. That was good news of sorts as I was desperate by now to get moving away from this dangerous situation by the side of this busy road with no hard shoulder. Visibility was poor and the rain was pouring. The good news was short lived as it seems there was some debate about legalities of driving without a silencer and, as far as driving home was concerned, it was game over. More discussion followed about the dangers of getting Frank off the lorry and onto the rescue vehicle. More phone calls to the police – this time dialing 999 as 101 had not produced any response. The first fitter left. More anxious waiting around for the tow vehicle. Finally, someone arrives. He suggests moving the lorry to a safe place so that Frank can be unloaded and transferred to a rescue horse lorry. There was a small industrial park about quarter of a mile away. I find a bungee and manage to attach the exhaust to the lorry so that it has ground clearance and we make our way to safer parking. Whilst waiting for the horse rescue lorry the fitter and I discuss the exhaust . It isn’t even blowing and since the bungee is doing such a good job I suggested that I might just drive home if it was OK with him. Within minutes I am on my way back to the Swamp* 😬 Btw police didn’t manage to turn up but called me just as was approaching the lane to the yard – grabbing the phone without looking to see who the caller was and said – I’m sorry I can’t speak I’m driving –well this is the police just ringing to see if you still need help – oh er….fan fookin tastic that one!
*Swamp: fond term for ‘Swansea’ as ‘swamp’ is the term offered by predictive text – this is apt as it rains a lot here and is quite swamp like.
Hacking back from Fforest Fach
June 2017
Took the lorry up to Forrest motors in Fforestfach * for exhaust repair and decided this time that rather than ride back the 15 miles on my trusty Dahon folding bike I would, instead, take Frank and ride him back. And why not? I was quite excited about this little adventure but doubt started to creep in as my idea met with a few raised eyebrows and comments that I must be insane. Mechanics at the garage expressed surprise –although the ‘go to’ garage for horse lorry repairs no one had ever left there, after dropping off a lorry, on horseback. Anyway, Frank behaved police horse polite as he waited at the dual carriageway lights and negotiated all the traffic. The journey was uneventful apart from I lost my hat silk galloping along the road just coming out of Penclawdd. The funniest incident happened as I was riding through Crofty on my way to the marsh road. I was aware of a car behind me and conscious that I might be holding someone up I pulled over to let them by. As I waved the driver on (he must have been in his 80s) he leant out of the window, smiling, he gestured me to carry on in front…‘you go on ahead’ he said …’that’s a lovely horse you have there …I’m enjoying the view’. Ha ha! I had to laugh at that. The whole journey took about two and a half hours – it was much faster on the bike but I’ll be taking Frank back to Fforest fach to collect the lorry when it’s ready!
*Fforest fach (meaning small wood) is a large out of town shopping area and massive industrial estate straddling a busy dual carriageway. My excellent garage, Forest motors, is based here about 15 miles from Crickton Livery yard, Llanrhidian, Gower. Since buying my lorry in May 2017 I now have a loyalty card for this garage and am indebted to friends – mostly Jaime Thomas, for taking me there, every week, to pick up my lorry.
Let the 2017 (Lorry/horse) trials begin: Magor and Exmoor
Sledgehammer
Well, what a weekend. Set off for Treborough Hill BE on Exmoor on Friday afternoon 23 June…lorry brakes fixed, new exhaust, leak in luton fixed, nice new retro cupboard fitted (by me), gas cooker sorted (by Russell), everything packed. Approaching Magor services on the M4 and lorry starts to overheat so pull into lorry park and call breakdown service, again (see earlier post re exhaust falling off). After about an hour, recovery vehicle arrives and a broken thermostat is diagnosed. All stuff has to be removed from the luton into the tiny living space including wooden floor of the luton (which is/was my bed). This is so that cab can be tilted forward for access to engine. There is now no room whatsoever in the living space to move without climbing over tack, hats, horse feed, pillows, duvet, sleeping bag, food, water, clothes, boots, kettle… mechanic leaves to go back to depot for stuff and is gone for so long I wonder if he will ever return. On return, the cab is maneuvered back into place but gets caught on gear-stick knob as it descends then suddenly crashes down shattering the gear-stick knob and bending the whole gearing mechanism. This is a worrying development I feel, however, unphased, the mechanic takes a sledge hammer to it to straighten it up a bit…which was as far as I could see, an even more alarming development. Anyway, brute force seemed to do the trick although a window was smashed in the process. In removing the shattered glass I manage to badly cut my thumb and took ages trying to find the fckin first aid kit which was buried under a pile of stuff in the living – and its dark now and I couldn’t see a fecking thing or find my fookin head torch. Eventually, lorry was ready for a test drive. Frank had been out for a lorry park walkabout and as long as he was stuffing his face with hay he seemed OK. Satisfied, but still rather dubious, I prepared to leave the lorry park – the plan was for the recovery vehicle to follow me to the Severn Bridge to ensure all was OK, It was dark now and just as were about to set off a motorbike came screeching into the lorry park, past the lorry, without rider, very quickly followed by rider and lots of sparks and flying metal and motorbike bits. WTF😲😲😲😲 mad panic ensued as we all ran to help and waited for paramedics…..the motorcyclist was OK and after recovering consciousness decided he felt fine to do his night shift at Maccy D’s. At this point I think most people may have decided to just say ‘fuck it’ and just go home. The thought did cross my mind as I still had a long journey ahead and I wasn’t sure of directions to the farm on Exmoor where Frank was booked in for stabling…and tbh I didn’t have much faith in the transport either …bad enough when you are on your own but how would Frank cope?….what if we should get lost, break down again or run out of hay?
Comment from Matt: Frank represents the nature of ‘unknowing’, the mechanic the conscious mind trapped within life’s drama’s (using a sledge hammer to comprehend subtlety), the bike rider is the chaos of life ready to upend everything, the cut demonstrates the fragility of existence and the hay is a metaphor for spiritual sustenance. The question is are you the van or thermostat??
My reply: Well both the lorry and thermostat are fooked…I’m fooked Oh God… welcome to my tragic universe.
Go west
It was almost midnight when I finally left Magor services, not totally confident that the lorry would make it to Exmoor, and not entirely sure I knew the way. My biggest concern was that owners of stable I had booked for Frank would be hugely inconvenienced by my late arrival but they very kindly said they would wait up. So, foot down and determined we headed out West once more. Journey was uneventful except for flickering headlights and rain coming in through the broken window. Was a relief to see signs for Taunton, get off the M5 and follow signs for Minehead. The road narrows and steepens but thankfully I seem to have it all to myself – which is just as well as I sailed across a crossroads without stopping to look if anything was coming the other way. A right turn at the very top of Exmoor to Washford, down a steep dip past a couple of farms …. slowing right down, and checking directions once again, I peered out into the darkness and there it was – a ‘Horsebox’ sign and an open gate. Phew. It was 2am. The owner of the farm came out (in pyjamas) and within a couple of minutes Frank was in his stable for the night gulping down buckets of fresh spring water, checking out his spacious abode and deep straw bed. Now to my bed… except I don’t have one 😔 The space above the luton is just a huge hole now and I wrestle the plywood boards out of the living and into the pitch black darkness of the yard. I muck out the lorry and make a bed from bales of hay, sleeping bag, horse rugs and pillows. Thank fcuk I made it 😌 Thank fcuk Frank is OK😌 Listening to fat drops of rain pelt down intermittently on the horsebox roof I am struck, as I lie there, by how much water sounds like crackling fire – perhaps the box is actually on fire….then I’m fast asleep😣
Dark chocolate gingers
I’m not a morning person. I never have been or ever will be. The only time I have ever greeted the morning with anything that could be remotely described as joy is after staying up all night at festivals surrounded by friends and still partying. As I made a cup of tea I thought of friends at Glastonbury – just a few miles down the road. They’d probably just be going to bed now as I was waking. Not so long ago I would have been there with them – now I’m here, on a different farm, with Frank, chasing a different kind of high…and a lot more dangerous. Riding cross country is a bit like spending the weekend chasing your own ambulance . After mucking out I set off to walk the course which was a pleasant half-hour walk from the farm and enjoyed watching the Novice competitors jump huge fences….ooooof thinking, oh blimey, that’ll be me tomorrow. Afternoon spent exploring Exmoor forest. Frank was feeling quite feisty after two days cooped up on competition mix and bitten by flies – so we had a good ol’ pipe opener and were joined for a while by a couple of Exmoor ponies. Evening spent in the confined and now completely jumbled space of the living area of the horse box looking for clothes and competition gear – after a couple of hours rummaging through endless bags I was ready for a home for the bewildered…oh… and it looks like i left my body protector at home 😢Boo hoo! Prospect of another night on the hay and starting to feel a bit nervous about tomorrow’s event. Friday nights drama is starting to catch up on me….I feel like I’m about to crumble. Then I realise I haven’t really eaten anything. The cold pizza from Thursday night looks unappetizing and I’m not in the mood for merchant gourmet puy lentils, but, what’s this?….underneath the horse treats… a box of dark chocolate ginger biscuits 🍪🍪 Xstatic
Getting the shizzle together
Felt quite wobbly this morning – no dinner last night feel the need to eat something but tea and a couple of oatcakes with marmalade was all I could get down. The thought of wrestling with large sheets of plywood and fitting them back into the lorry somehow, of manoeuvring the lorry out of its parking space and backwards into the yard so that Frank could be loaded… then driving dodgy lorry up to the event – then there was Frank to get ready, a mane and tail to plait, a dressage test to learn, myself to get ready, a body protector to buy…..let alone competing in the event. I sat down on the lorry ramp staring at the plywood feeling overwhelmed. Fcuk. Why am I doing this? Fcuk. What am I doing here, all alone on Exmoor? Would I remember the test, would Frank oblige with a correct left canter lead (unlikely) could I remember the XC course… feeling quite anxious and having palpitations I just wanted to pack up and go home. Big sigh. Dressage time was 12.10 and it’s now 6.30am – better make a move. I walked over the house to return the torch and the man of the house offered to help get the boards back into the lorry. Anne very kindly offered to lend me her body protector. I plaited up Frank, found the dressage test and stuffed it into my pocket. The boards fitted perfectly on the floor of the lorry after all the screws had been removed. Stable mucked out, water containers filled with fresh spring water, Frank loaded and off we set up to the event just a short distance away. Rain had stopped but there was dark cloud and as I looked across the Bristol channel the Welsh coastline was barely visible. Having made it to the event I parked up, switched the engine off and slumped onto the steering wheel with a huge sigh only to be shocked into looking up again as the parking attendant tapped on the window and asked if I was OK. No, I said, I’m not really, I have had quite a difficult time getting here. He’d noticed the missing window – I just shrugged and said it was a long story and that I’m sure I’d be OK. Are you riding then he asked….yes…. I said I am indeed. After all the effort this morning and feeling both sick and peckish at the same time I repressed the need to throw up and tacked up Frank. By now I was shaking – with cold, hunger and nervousness. Time to get on and warm-up. I need to have another look at the test, watch a few riders go through theirs and try and get Frank to concentrate on his. He is just fidgeting to get out, he won’t stand still for me to tighten the girth, I’m too weak to do it….oh I really don’t want to do this. I pull him over to the lorry and I scramble up into the jockey door opening and jump on before he has chance to wander off. Suddenly, in the saddle I have a feeling of belonging. All tension drains away somehow. Franks lovely, easy, loping walk takes off all the rough edges. I breathe out and sink deep into the saddle. As I take up a loose contact I feel Frank’s energy, like sap rising, within me and I start to smile. Riding down to the dressage warm-up area I was fairly confident I knew the test. I practised a few transitions, some circles on both reins a bit of leg yielding. After checking my girth I took up a stronger contact in an attempt to get Frank into an outline – which he does then immediately goes overbent. Trying to establish a regular rhythm is not easy and it is all a bit stop start. Although it feels good up here I am feeling rather weak and my aids are inconsistent – and now the sun has come out it is really rather too hot and now I’m feeling a bit dehydrated. Phew. I stopped to get my breath back, I can feel my heart beating in my chest and I feel a bit dislocated…it was at this point I became aware of someone standing in front of me. So, what are the issues here then? Looks to me like he’s in charge of the show here and yet very good at convincing you that you are in charge – you’re not though are you? I felt like my relationship with Frank had just been assessed by a clairvoyant. There was uncanny perception here of what was going on which had not been expressed so bluntly by any of my other trainers. So, come on then… you have some time to try and put things right here. If Frank were an employee of yours what rate would he be on for the effort he is putting in here…minimum wage? A bit more that minimum wage – how much more? Er…. I’m not sure? 10 % above minimum wage. Well yes, OK, although personally I wouldn’t be paying him that much. Right then, lets get him earning back some of that money you paid out for him. Suddenly, I have to get my shizzle together. I have to convince this women that I deserve to be here. Now is not the time to tell this person that I have had a rough time and that it is a miracle I am here at all… no Jlz, summon up energy from somewhere and kick on. So, Frank shoots off and executes a lovely right canter lead…. See, I can ride him, I’m in charge, he’s listening … OK let’s see that on the left rein. Hmph! Come on Frank you can do it…. Sitting trot, legs on to get some impulsion, inside hand asking for bend, outside hand just hanging on…..right leg back a bit, turn top half of body to the inside and forward into canter with some energy, and RIGHT Canter lead arrrrggghhhh…. Noooo Frank, what are you doing? We are going left now so please left canter lead please? OMG he’s like fcuking Zoolander… he can’t turn left! Oh I feel so useless….why won’t he lead with the left? ‘Ok’ says the BE coach, let’s try that again but this time let go with your outside hand and put your inside leg ON the girth – and, as if by magic, it works…. And again and again. Ha! That’s it I have found the magic aid. OK it’s time for you to go in now for your test….Shit, I need a bit more time to practise that left canter lead but here we go…. BE test 2016 (92) Feeling under pressure as I have a strict observer now who is also video recording me the test goes really well until left canter lead when, despite my best efforts, Frank strikes off with the right leg. I correct it quickly but the error is there… Sarah was full of praise for the test. Don’t worry she said – you had left canter lead in the practise area and the rest of the test was really rather good. You have a lovely horse there and you’re nor a bad rider. You will get there, I’m sure.
Relieved that the dressage test is over I go back to the lorry and make coffee. Walk the SJ course. Tack up. We like jumping and 80 cm is a piece of piss as we’ve been competing at 1M recently. So I trot down to the SJ warm-up area and there are three jumps, a cross pole, an upright, and a small oxer . After going round the arena in trot on both reins we have a bit of a canter and op the cross pole. Then we trot a bit more then I wander over to some longer grass so that Frank can have a pee. He thinks about it then changes his mind. So, off we trot and turn into the oxer and pop over that at an angle. Then I stop to tighten my girth. ‘What are you doing? ‘who me?’ as I look around ‘yes you… do you have a plan for this showjumping warm-up? You don’t do you – no plan at all just a random warm up wherever he takes you – yes? What was wrong with jumping the upright? you don’t just jump the cross pole then jump the larger of the three fences AND once you’ve jumped you need to keep up the momentum – there are ten fences in that arena – you have to jump them all. If I was to sum up your warm-up plan for the showjumping I’d say…. well…. I’d say it was worrying to be perfectly honest…. and going round there you look like a monkey up a pole. Oh, that’s me told then. It was news to me that I needed a warm-up plan. Oh the shame. As it happened we went clear – thank goodness. An hour later and we went down to the XC warm up area. I was looking forward to this – the best bit. We had a lovely round – clear just a few seconds over the optimum time which surprised me as I’m not sure how much faster we could have gone. Anyway a double clear and a dressage score of 45 – but our first double clear so I was pleased with that especially considering that earlier in day I didn’t think I could do any of it.
Frank’s fortune changes at Chepstow
Frank was fantastic: 28.8 score for dressage, clear show jumping, clear XC but went 3.2 seconds too fast – placed 7th overall. Dressage has gone from 40’s to 20’s in one week 😲 have had some good coaching recently from Ian Wright and Sarah Thorne and I think we might have nailed it. Definitely time to go up a level. Thanks to Jaime for providing navigation, picnic, running commentary on my scores – for being top groom and photographer. I would have been really stuck without her – she is an angel – it’s official. This has to be one of the best views from a BE 🙂
Only Joolz and Horses 