Riding with my mind

Friend Nat, me, and the sleepy Paxfilly herself.

Clearly, blogging has not been my focus nor my strength in the past months. After my fear post in November, I received some amazing feedback through comments, e-mails, and even a phone call or two. Much thanks for that. It would be a lie to say "I'm over it!" but also a lie to say I haven't improved daily. No, I'm not riding Indigo yet. I'm not ready, and obviously he is not, either— I've let him be more or less dormant, minus a few ground lessons, and where his manners were fair before, he's adopted a much less go-with-the-flow attitude. Several people, my husband included, have generously offered to work with me and mount him the first time themselves.. I'm not ruling that out, and it might help, but worse than hurting myself is the thought of getting someone else banged up because of my own insecurities. Though I'm not ready for that step on my own, I'm doing fine on other horses and losing the heart-in-the-throat feeling that mounting a squirrelly horse gave me so strongly after the incident in Utopia. I push myself a little bit every time I ride someone new, and it feels better and better. Not like it used to be, but that's fine. I can be patient.

I have worked with Pax, and see her going off to be properly started next fall. She has taken to —sigh..— jumping things. Like fences, and gates. And barrels. And I think the corner of the plastic round bale holders. She lept out of the arena two weeks ago and only slightly snagged her back feet. Hoping it is all a phase, in part because.. (exciting news to follow:)

Camp is finally getting a new riding arena! Of real pipe! And real footing! And even level ground!

Finally, the stars have aligned and the right people have uttered the word "yes" and it looks like we should have the old arena, tacking area, and corral torn down and a new structure standing by the beginning of March. Sounds like a potential donor has committed to getting us sand footing and railroad ties to line and elevate the arena itself, providing the solid, safe, less rocky ground that will benefit our kids and our horses. Can't express how stoked I am, and likewise how thankful. Temporary fencing has gone up and tomorrow the tear-down process begins. Riding lessons cancelled for the rest of February, though you bet I will still be riding Bandit.

Bandit.. My hero. Through all of this anxiety junk, he's been about as good as I could ask him. He has packed me on trails at weird hours of the day, and put up with my dressage-dreams-fueled weird exercises and experiments that come to me from nowhere. We dealt with some grouchiness and pain issues at our last regular dressage lesson, and swapped some things around (extracted his ground-down wolf teeth; powerfloated; de-beaned; trimmed; restarted SmartFlex Senior.) I was more than a little nervous that he'd turn up lame or not turn up at all, so to speak, at the Joan Bolton clinic we lucked into riding in. Instead, I learned (within minutes) all the ways that I was exacerbating his flaws and giving him all kinds of reasons to protest the gymnastic elements of dressage that are lacking in our normal skill set. By the end of the ride, you couldn't have Windexed the smile off of my face. 

Clinic, 1-27-2012. Come so far, and so far yet to go!

Both Cindy, the instructor I've been riding with north of Kerrville, and Joan (and Heather Blitz, rider of the great Paragon) practice riding through biomechanics, as conceptualized and taught by Mary Wanless. From Mrs. Blitz's website, linked to above:

The person who has been the biggest influence in my riding is my biomechanics coach, Mary Wanless.  I met Mary in 1993 and have continued to learn from her to the present.  Her research into the effect of riders’ bodies on horses is extensive and unique and not found in more “traditional” training.  Her theories continue miles beyond teaching the beginner to improve their seat.   The more advanced I become in my riding,  I find her even more helpful.  Like a mechanic tuning my engine as I need more and more technique, power and refinement.  As you progress up the levels, it gets harder and harder to find words to describe what we’re trying to achieve  but Mary’s style, using analogies and sensory feedback allows for amazing communication and understanding in a world of feel and timing.  I have always had a special niche in my own teaching because of my education from Mary and will forever be grateful for the day I was introduced to her. 

Bible-like. Kept by my bedside.

Reading Wanless' Ride with Your Mind Masterclass and Ride with Your Mind Essentials is changing my riding every day. I used the Essentials text to focus my attention on one muscle group at a time, and was quite quickly lead to the realization that there are many notions of horsemanship that I absolutely must let go. The balance, seat, and leg that I've received compliments (and good horsemanship scores) on repeatedly leave me vulnerable to a dozen traps that break the energy flow that can suddenly turn an acceptable ride into a connected, lifted, and beautiful one. We are so far from making that the norm, but those fleeting moments of roundness and softness are happening more and more often and I'm slowly developing the muscle memory to know where I need to be in order for the beauty in him to come out. I realize I would be eternally farther along in the process if I could spend some time riding a schoolmaster and being taught how and when to press the buttons to receive the award. Instead, it's a joint process with two personalities and two sets of flaws to contend with, as well as thirty-three years of bad habits between us. Outside of this circle of riders I've become privy to (weather through the barn I've been riding at or through YouTube searches of horse-and-rider teams employing the same principles) I have not seen riding like this. I want it, badly. 

My involvement in NATRC currently hovers at sitting on the advisory board of the newsletter and editing things for the Hoof Print. I'm glad I get to be involved there, but I'm completely looking forward to competing in the Wimberly Wayfarer later in the spring. Wimberly is another gorgeous Hill Country town, closer to Austin, and I think the familiar scenery could lend a little calm to my bucket o' crazy pony. He is so prone to absorbing the atmosphere around him.. at the dressage clinic, he was miraculously the quietest, most well-behaved little gelding of the bunch. I got several compliments on his ability to stand tied anywhere I put him; a skill honed strictly from trying to learn the ropes of long distance competitive trail. Yet when we're at CTRs, he's a bucket of nerves who tries to remove his eyeball and instead removes the trailer door, all in one foul swoop because a completely familiar person got a completely unremarkable distance away from him. Oh well. Can't have it all, and I'm lucky to have my old man!

Catch-up; catching the wild horse; catching a bad attitude before it gets worse.

Well!

We survived summer. The start was rocky, for lots of reasons that don't particularly belong here, but thanks to good help we made it through keeping kids safe and reasonably happy. The temperatures were unbelievable— read, crazy-mother-trucking-hot and devoid of any kind of moisture. Having a huge herd of thirty was more work than before but worth it; I don't think anyone got particularly fatigued despite a heavier workload of kids and the NightRyder program adding a little bit of work in the evening. We have pulled some of the old horses up to a great weight, but there are some others in their early or mid twenties who lost condition that we are still trying to recover. The joys of old, worn and wonderful hand-me-down horses.

Leading a ride in July.

Indigo, the first mustang colt, was a great success. He had two rough spots, to include randomly falling off of a three-inch cliff with Tiffany for no apparent reason. (Stood back up before she could even step off, so it was chalked up to being a dummy three-year-old who doesn't know where to place his feet.) And I got ballsy and put an "advanced" camper with a relatively weak seat on his back.. bareback. He had been great for everybody else, but she slumped forward onto his shoulder and he took a step to the left and dropped her less than five seconds after she'd mounted. She was fine and he luckily didn't pick up the hint that it's possible to dump people on purpose. I used him to lead trail rides all day, several days a week, and for a few Blue Bead ceremonies which went reasonably well considering I was jumpy being bareback, helmetless, and in front of a big crowd. He carried about five different campers, all competent riders, during NightRyders and Saddle Club, as well as a couple of novice counselors. Not bad for three.

Here's a post on the camp blog from one of our great Saddle Club girls; she writes a little about her experience using Indy for our pony games day.

Bandit is large and lazy. He didn't get as much work this summer thanks to Inders, but behaved when he did. I am for some reason not panicked about getting him ready for the Pole Canyon CTR; I had intended to ride Open division for the first time to get experience doing the mileage, but for a couple of reasons, have stuck to Novice. I know that, continuing with our conditioning rides for the coming weeks and barring injury, he will be able to do the distance, especially in an area that is challenging because it's rocky— like home! Like Alpine!— instead of deep and sandy. We'll blow some more obstacles, but I'm totally ready to be back. Plus, there's a horsemanship clinic the day before, so we are hauling early and maybe that will take the edge off. I'm excited!

Bandito was featured in a blog / article I wrote for Long Riders' Gear, which will also go in the NATRC HoofPrint. Crazy boy— Competitive Trail Riding: A Newbie's Perspective.

Awkward photo, but see?! Her head is starting to fit!

Pax, who gets little press here considering she is the title feature, is growing into her head. Yikes, that's the best update I can give ya? She is doing exactly what two-year-olds should do, in my opinion— getting a few lessons on ground manners, carrying a saddle around occasionally, and eating and growing and being adorable. Her back has lengthened, which I'm not thrilled about, but she is coming into proportion and I think she moves a little better than before. I'm looking into buying a friend's Collegiate dressage saddle; a good buy on a nice, basic piece of tack that I hope will last me through the next year or so until I can afford something nicer without risking making the car payment, etc. At that point, she'll be closer to full grown and easier to eyeball a good fit for. She is the "lovey-est" horse I've been around in forever— when we left for twelve days for Northern Ireland, she was the first horse to meet me at the fence (not in the feeding location, either) at a dead sprint, looking for pats. She honestly seemed happy to see us.

ApHC Suprise Hayley Annie

I have an offer to take a horse on free lease that's tempting. Granted, we have more than enough projects to go around here, but she's somewhat of a special case in my very skewed handbook— she is Bandit's five-year-old half sister. And she's cute. Compact, like her broseph. Great color, if you like Apps. She's green broke, which is nice in that she's at least rideable. And I am sure she needs some work. I not-so-secretly would love her to be a follow up NATRC horse to replace Bandit in a few years. The guy who owns her claims to love her but is in the process of moving. I don't want to buy her —she isn't worth $1500 in my book, despite better than average bloodlines. $1500 green broke "cute" horse is a joke right now in this part of the world. I mean, I do want to meet her. I would also like to work with her. I just don't know how far I want to go; I'm a little worried about falling in love with her and having her snatched off to California just as I get her going well. And I'm also worried she might be a nightmare. Worth going to look at her next Tuesday? Worth taking a trailer with me? Worth drawing up paperwork? Thoughts?

And finally.. Flint. Flint is our second mustang, a three year old gelding out of the Adoble Wells HMA in southern Wyoming. Tiffany, her boss and America's Favorite Trail Horse* finalist TJ, and I drove up to beautiful Colorado in the middle of a very hot August.

* See the trailer below, if you haven't already. Exciting to have an equestrian reality TV show that isn't about the racing industry, whatever your thoughts on ACTHA and competitive trail riding are!

CFA Flint Rock's "beachy" hairdo.

Flint is more of a challenge than Indigo was. He was older when he came out of the wild, older when he was gelded, older when he came to camp. He and Inders are just now the same age. I am okay with this. I wanted this. We got to haltering and leading in about the same amount of time. I was more confident and I had my own schedule of milestones to hit. We spent the days before my trip to the U.K. leading around camp, learning about grooming and tying and all the basics. He was flighty, but smart and willing and a big "mama's boy." He spazzed, but recovered by standing behind my shoulder and waiting. Then I got cocky yesterday and put the two mustang boys together in the arena. They were perfect— could catch them both, no big quarrels. I worked the two of them at liberty together. Indy joined up right away and stayed at my shoulder until I brought Flint around. I moved the two of them as a unit. Indigo was definitely the leader and he was nearly flawless. I could kick myself for using one green colt to work another green colt, but I assure you that the dynamic worked and our first BLM pony is a treasure. A weird treasure, but a treasure.

Brosephs.

Anyway. I was feeling sorry for Flint being cooped up in his pen for so long after a lifetime of herd dynamics, so I let the two boys stay in the arena overnight with some hay and water. This morning, Richard and I were up early to feed and saddle twelve horses for a retreat. When I went to catch Flint.. He walked straight through our (incredibly shoddy, withering-cedar-post) arena fence, smashing it into splinters, and into the corral filled with all of the spare horses. I was immediately terrified for him getting the snot beat out of him.. Until he single-handedly took on all of the huge bully horses and commandeered the hay ring for himself. Here was this scrappy, girly looking grey pony colt laying the smack down on our duo of ornery, 16.2+ hh Thoroughbreds and everyone else.

Catching him took over twelve hours of on-and-off efforts. Now that he's learned he can push over fences, we couldn't push him hard enough to tire him for fear he'd just peace out and leave the premises— not good considering there's thirty weekenders here for the retreat. I was livid. And the first rule of horsemanship is to never do anything with haste and anger.. Two sentiments thundering through my veins. I managed to clip the lead on him, but was drug a little ways multiple times, which only exacerbated the problem and fueled the pony's desire to run. Long story short, my hero of a husband ended up coaxing him close enough to catch, then stuck out his protesting rears and fits until he had the colt under control. We've switched him to a halter with some more bite (nose knots) and returned him to his little metal panel pen. Back to basics tomorrow, and I have learned my lessons.

1. If you're that pissed off, stop.
2. Don't overestimate the flexibility and durability of the trust you've established with a wild animal. It's brittle. Like, really really brittle. Like, baked-cedar-pole-in-the-summertime brittle.
3. There are a few things your larger, stronger, testosterone-fueled spouse can do better. Like hold on to a lead rope with a bucket of angry crazy at the end.
4. Seriously, we need a new freaking fence. This year it ceased to be a funny talking point.
5. Angelic Indigo was a fluke. 
6. The drag rope idea to halter break worked brilliantly on more than one horse I've started or help start in the past. It can, as in this case, backfire. Flint is now adept at walking through a jerk on the lead rope. In fact, he's gotten quite good at it.

I'm so ready to do this better.

I ended this rather crappy day with the first ride on Indigo I've taken in awhile. Bandit got a little work this morning; now it was the colt's turn— I'm taking him to an ACTHA ride in the middle of October. Should be fun. I'm slightly worried about traumatizing him and, consequentially, getting my arse dumped, but optimistic that at least it will be a good experience for him and excited to ride with some friends and maybe make new ones.

Upcoming events:

Retreat next weekend; Tiff's coming to work.

New Hampshire the next weekend for a slighty crunchy sounding camp directors' retreat. I'm excited.

Pole Canyon NATRC ride second weekend of October, plus horsemanship clinic. (Get to use new, tiny LQ trailer! Excited!)

ACTHA ride in Utopia the next weekend.

Possibly taking a horse to the San Antonio Mustang Expo that next Friday.

Notes on the herd and my rides

I apologize, to the handful of you who read, for a decidedly long hiatus between posts here. Though I have been no less busy with horse-related things, those horse-related things tended to be work-related things. And I haven't been in a mindset to write, particularly, in part due to personal matters and the loss of my great Dad. That aside, I think it's time to catch up a bit.

Pax

I took the Very Large Filly on a walk the other day. I'm relatively certain that Taking Your Horse For a Walk doesn't make it into a lot of training books, but when I'm not close to being ready to get on her and not in the mood to long line or lunge, it is a nice way to get her mind out of the herd and onto her two-legged "mom." She was nervous, but mindful at the get-go, but I admire the fact that her nerves rarely manifest themselves into action. She is observant, rarely hesitant, and almost never flighty.. Except for when I started making a racket with my dressage whip in the tall pampas grass. That resulted in minor fireworks for a few minutes.

Satan's lair.

Anyhow, after we'd established that the pampas grass could be added to the "rather alarming but not malicious" list, Pax and I headed out the gate and down to the river crossing for our first swimming attempt. She is one of a handful of horses who tend to try and bathe in the elevated water troughs in the pasture, so I had high hopes— and was not disappointed. With just one sniff at the wide expanse of river and a pause to allow me to hike my shorts up and pull my boots on tighter (classy, yes) we stepped graciously in and waded around to both our chests' deep of the drink. She snuffled and played but remained a lady, and I acquired some brilliant blisters walking all the way back to the barn in sodden cowboy boots and swimwear. We stopped at a few spots on the way back to lunge on a shortened line and get back into "work, not rush home" mode, and she wasn't even pulling for the gate when we made it back in site of the equestrian center. Overall, I am proud of her. If I may have a moment to brag, she is growing up gorgeous. Very few PMU-mutts can ever pass the A+ confirmation test, and she certainly does not, but she is maturing into a balanced and graceful mare and I can't wait to see where things go in the next two years. My mom and I have discussed sending her to a proper trainer to get started. I've never done that before, but also only started one horse by myself under saddle.. and as she has been a bit of an investment, and I would like her to be worthy for low-level competition, it would be worth paying for sixty days of professional work. But that's a long way off. No reason to start her before fall 2012, if even then. June 1st will be her second birthday!

The Princess herself. Need to think of a good proper name for her soon.

Indigo

Tiff, a good friend and one of the part-time camp wranglers, started looking into a BLM horse seriously last week and I got to thinking about our little pinto 'stang boy sitting out in the pasture enjoying life and being lazy, and/or trying to hump a mare or two. (He's cut. I promise.) So I rigged up the borrowed surcingle over a western saddle, attached long lines after a little warm-up, figured ourselves out again in the round pen, and took the fellow driving around camp. He was great! A little bit of a gaffufle to get started, when we initially started moving away from our comfort zone of the equestrian center. We polished our "woah" and walk/trotted using voice cues, and I am able to cut back on the noise motivation from the stock whip I carry. I rarely if ever have to touch him with it, but he's lazy enough to wait for the threatening sound before moving off. But putting him in a new position and having to be the physical leader, while directing from behind, put Indy back on his toes and I got a nice little jog out of him through the kickball fields and down by the river. He is taking a while to truly soften to the bit, but he does accept it and bridles like a real boy now. His woah is good with contact, but it wasn't until this lesson that I felt him anticipate the sound a bit. I can't wait to get on him more this summer! And more mustangs for camp, with proper time and training, I think will be an excellent idea, especially in our aging herd. I wouldn't risk the online auction thing, but the drive to Colorado to really evaluate temperament and soundness was worth it. I think our product is shaping up wonderfully.

Tranquil stop by the Guad.

El Bandito

As for my grouchy old man, I was hoping to squeeze in another lesson with Sally in Fredericksburg before the craziness of summer cuts off all possibilities, but it looks like she may be out-of-state for quite some time. Her family is relocating away from the Hill Country, so I knew our time with her would be short, albeit a great blessing and hopefully the right way to shift focus with Bandit. I've gotten to spend time with some of the Waldemar polocrosse ladies on a couple of afternoons (one of our best camp horses was donated through that club, more or less) and caught the name of another woman who teaches dressage just outside of Kerrville. The price is a bit more, unsurprisingly as we were scoring an awesome deal minus the diesel cost, but the facility sounds fantastic. I haven't ridden in an indoor arena since sneaking into my university's rodeo arena to ride a handful of times. I haven't ridden with mirrors since I was about eleven. I am utterly excited.

Last week I made an attempt at doing some more "dressage homework," as Sally put it, but ended up getting distracted and going over the tiny jumps Dick and I put together for the kiddos. I have not asked Bandit to jump a thing, minus trail obstacles, since I was about fifteen and into our brief Parelli phase.. which involved alot of the at-liberty lunging over barrels. He was pretty good at that, I think mainly because he is scared of the color white (which encompasses a wide gamut of objects, let me tell you.) But after a couple of shady go-arounds and blasting our way through trot poles trying to snatch at the bit, we did some successful little bounces and, if I dare say so, I think the old man enjoyed the change-up. That said, tomorrow I plan on getting down to business and aiming for a degree of respectability at next week's lesson. It's at, like.. a fancy place. As in, I may wear a clean shirt. With a collar. Gasp.

Putting Little Sister Pax in her place. Height is no object.

A note on his bridle— having not been terribly impressed with the Dr. Cook's on a trail ride where I (stupidly) decided to go for a gallop with a friend on a similarly hot horse, and not having particularly measurable success getting Bandit on the "bit" (in the bridle?) without an actual bit.. We had a random breakthrough last weekend. I switched to Bandito after riding a super-solid but slightly slow lease horse for a group trail ride. I always ride him in the Dr. Cook's for those easy rides, as he is cucumber cool for the most part and I see advantages in switching things up with him between his various mild headgear. I don't ask for much, but usually try to get a little practice in every ride.. and from somewhere, things clicked, and I had a lovely, soft, round horse taking contact from my reins and going on about as nicely as Bandit will go. I won't be switching to the Cook's bitless for lessons, but maybe for more of our homework.

Rue

Why is The Fattest Pony In The West on this list? Well.. I have been cajoled? Convinced? By a friend or two to give polocrosse a try next fall when practices kick up again. As I see a temporary but extremely disappointing moratorium happening on my NATRC rides, thanks to an already packed schedule of weekend camp events through 2012, attending the polocrosse practices and kicking about at a new sport would keep me in a mix of horsey people and give me something new to learn. Let me assure you that at this point, I would much rather be charging along at a competitive trail ride.. But have to made allowances somewhere. Job is important and I am lucky to have it. Waldemar donated three used but quality Australian saddles to my riding program here at CFA, and I plunked down some cash to rig them out and see what I can learn. I don't think Bandit will ever be steady enough with flying balls and sticks, Indigo isn't old enough, and obese Rue needs a job. She is young, bombproof, capable of moving her fat little arse when she needs to, and plucky.. And very low to the ground, so my lanky, uncoordinated self can have a better shot at getting the darn ball off the dirt. I just.. y'know.. Look a little ridiculous on her. And she is a little ridiculous looking on top of that.

This angle does her too much justice. You can't see the hay gut.

Anyway, I don't even have a proper stick to use yet, so have mainly been conditioning her. Which turns out to be more of a commitment than I had anticipated— we trotted halfway up Mt. Vesper on the rocky hillside road, and literally had to stop. She wasn't being witchy or balky. She physically was worn out. Took it much easier the rest of the day, but I realize that she won't be in any fair condition until summer is on its way and I can alternate riding her and a couple of other horses. She has developed a rather hard mouth and opinionated way of going, but I think some consistency and a nice change to an o-ring snaffle will clean that up.

"Really, woman. I'm done now."

I leave you with this charming buttshot of The Cool Kids in the herd. Mind you, there are five round bales for our thirty horses, which averages out to six or less horses per bale if you account for those resting or watering themselves. There are twelve below, all the top dogs of the pasture, all determined to sit at the cool table in the cafeteria.

From far left to right: Peppy, Sunny, Hannah, Rue, Pax, Pumbaa, Indigo, Whiskers, Tango, Bonnie (hidden,) Marquee, and JB (also hidden.)

There are only two emotions that belong in the saddle.

One is a sense of humor, and the other is patience.

— John Lyons

Scampering, planning, training

Some of the photos from the Girl Scout Scamper popped up on the interwebs today. I am feeling rather conflicted.

1. I shouldn't try to cheeseball smile when the camera man pops up. Turns out a focused face is better than a fake, head-back-in-the-wind, squinty-eyed-smile. Sidenote.

2. Bandit looks great on the trail. Away from Scary People. And despite getting a sore on one corner of his mouth from the rubber snaffle I use (I can pretty much tell you the minute he got it on Saturday, grr) he looks much more composed and engaged in his dressage bridle than when I switched back to the Little S hack on Sunday. I think I will shuck the flash noseband. While it keeps him from lolling his tongue out the side of his face, I believe it played a part in the sore mouth— there was so much grit and sand in it, despite me trying to clean out the parts of his bridle that rubbed on his face at every stop.

3. We were definitely more relaxed, more composed, and more likely to be walking on this ride than in our previous two competitions. There were several stretches were he dropped his nose, I dropped the reins, and we just booked it at a lovely, 4.5 mph hauling-tail walk. That was perfect. There were some fun stretches after P&R checks were I hopped up in a two point and we hand galloped for a half mile or so in the easier sandy bits and let him blow off some happy steam. But yet we were terrible (TERRIBLE) at some of our obstacles. I mean, terrible as in, a horse I was not enjoying riding. And despite not being a picture-perfect horse by any means thanks mostly to my meager training skills, I always enjoy riding Bandit. After ten years, even his darker moments make sense to me and can be treated with a quiet, practiced hand. But at one point, during a water crossing from a sandy ridge down to a boggy pond and back up an embankment, I had a tiny, angry horse on my hands who swung his hip out at a judge, grabbed the bit, and very dangerously barreled down a hill. On two of the next obstacles, we executed a brilliant trotting, loping, anxious sidepass up and down another ravine, and later nearly dumped me in a shallow culvert. All things we encountered elsewhere on the trail with no problems, but put us in front of a judge and under the pressure of time and people, and things fell apart. I am more than happy to take some of the blame for tensing up in the presence of judges, but it's a mutual thing we need to work on. Bandit is still high-strung and flighty for probably 2/3s of the 40 mile rides. But that in itself is an improvement. I am going to give it the rest of this season— which for me may only be three or four rides— to see if he keeps improving. I hate being awful at something, but will keep trying to improve. Everybody in the NATRC community (that I've talked to— there are a handful or so I shy away from!) has been very supportive and helpful. So not giving up yet!

4. Boy, I was SORE on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. My core was killing me, which is cool. At least I'm using that and not my hands all the time, right?

In other news, not going to dressage tomorrow. Bandit was stiff and tenderfoot on Monday in his back left, and I'd rather not push him. If diesel weren't as expensive as it is, I would go just to watch and talk with Sally and Jadyn, but I think we'll just have to wait for April. Bummed because it has been so good for us, but I haven't spent a solid moment in the office all week. Besides some lessons, I have lots of paperwork to catch up on. Unexciting but necessary.

Not particularly news for this blog here, but there is some family illness, so Richard and I have been shuttling back and forth between San Antonio and Hunt as often as possible. I'm going back to visit again on Saturday night. Providing things don't deteriorate further, I'll be loading Bandit up for Oklahoma next Thursday to squeeze in what will probably be the last of our spring 2011 NATRC. He is going to the vet Tuesday for a powerfloat and a soundness check, so fingers crossed for us.

Indigo is doing well. Lots of groundwork. Our past few rides have been easy and quiet. Pax is fat and useless. I kid; she's sweet. Pulled her up and played with her a little this morning. More worried about getting Indigo safe enough to fall in line this summer a couple of times.

We have a new horse as of today, named "Scout." He belongs to miss Lindy over at Saddlestrings and Other Horse Things and will be joining us at camp for at least a year. I feel for her as Scout is her first "real" horse (which is how I see Bandito.. After many a lease horse in my younger years and a family cow pony) and I am honored she trusts us to take care of him! He's going to be a great addition —smart and light and willing and sweet— and is already settling in nicely. I am excited to put him to work with some of our intermediate to advanced students, depending on how things go.

March is in like a lamb, and I'm on my ponies like white on rice.

Having to Blog for work has completely zapped my ambition to blog for fun. (Note the change in Capital Letter Usage there.)

Let me just say that everyone is doing well. Got more rides in on little Indigo and lots of long lining. He is carrying a bit (with the aid of a little molasses and lots of time) and being very positive with every small step we take. We need a little tweaking on our steering— he likes to double over to pressure and loses a little balance in the process. Still, I am very pleased with each day.

Dressage lessons are progressing well. Last week was our first time incorporating the canter into the session, and I was so pleased with Bandit's listening ear as I tuned up my cues. Sally is teaching us to rely more on knowing our mount's footfalls and setting them up for success in everything we ask of them. Waiting for the right foot to ask him to pop into my hands for a nice, collected, forward canter has given me a new perspective on what he is capable of, if I can wrap my dense little tight-fisted hand around it. I realize I asked a lot of him over the past week; in one day, he started with an early morning training session, moved to a trail ride to Vesper with a student and I, grabbed some lunch and hopped in the trailer for a 1.5 hour lesson with Sally in Fredericksburg. That in addition to several other days of trail rides. I'm giving him this week off and we pack up for east Texas for the Girl Scout Scamper. 30 miles I am ready for! Just need to pack smart. :)

Pax is huge, sweet, and in it for the good stuff— attention, chin scratches, and cookies. I am blown away by the size of horse I saddled (harhar) myself with. She has been a Percheron lately, not a Belgian. All hot, snorty, and leggy. Crossing our fingers that it's a phase.



Things I Will Never Agree With:

“The reason you do not see our people wearing helmets is because we try to teach people that rather than be brave because they are wearing a a helmet to protect them, they would be better off not riding until their horse is behaving safely.” –P.P.

Uh huh. Sweet job on not rushing that Road to the Horse colt. That said, don't agree with that process whatsoever. Clinton Anderson can sit on a horse a bit more to my standard, but I think he is in the same schemey game and hated how lathered his pony looked through the process. What's the point in starting a horse in a few hours? Why? Who does that benefit? All of the backyard riders (myself included) who now reference half a day as proper training time to put a colt under saddle? How is this helping the animal? I am not posting this to hammer on my helmet fetish (bang bang bang..) but to simply point to a pretty glaring fallacy in this kind of logic. Especially paired with high-speed, high-stress types of training.


And What I Must Try To Take To Heart

"When we listen to our horses, we get an education. When we don't, we get experience." —Mark Rashid, author of Life Lessons Learned from a Ranch Horse

I need to find more ways to physically and emotionally shut up and wait for a clue from the horses I'm on.