Crushing on this stud.

Pretty sure I've shared this on my Facebook wall before, but I have been following Padre' and Patti's progress for a few months now through their Page and follow their developments. As someone just learning the very basics of dressage who also has a developing soft spot for the mighty BLM horse, he is probably my ideal. This video was taken after this horse had been under saddle for eighteen months. Here I am, contradicting myself from a few blog posts ago when I scorned the Road to the Colt kind of movement. Yet watching this mature horse school at such a level is a world apart from that kind of rushed start, in my opinion. I think it's beautiful, and a testament to some good training and stallion management.

Dressage has only really appealed to me for the past two or three years. I think I've come to a point in my riding where I realize there is only so much more "survival" style riding I can learn. ("Survival riding" is a description right out of the mouth of our current instructor, Sally.) In just a handful of lessons, my perception of true harmony between horse and rider has changed entirely— which, certainly, doesn't mean I'm anywhere close to "there" yet. But when we catch glimpses, I get excited.

I realize that the ideal dressage horse doesn't normally look like this, and I respect the reasons and differences. But that bay horse serves as an inspiration that the high-dollar horse is not the only athlete— my little Frito Bandito proves it to me, too, in his old age and tireless ways. Totillas is a true champion and a star, in every sense of those words. But I admit I see Padre' when I fantasize about my dream dressage horse, someday far into the future.

Maybe with a tiny splash of color, just because. ;)

Dressage lesson on Friday! I cannot wait!

Short horses

Why is it, that as a woman of substantial bone structure (what I mean is, I'm not skinny) who stands five foot ten (optimistically), I so dig short horses? I yearn to own a Halflinger or an Icelandic the way most horsewomen I know fantasize about a Friesian or a gorgeous warmblood of some high-dollar variety. I am not particularly worried about riding big horses. Yeah, there's a bit more airspace between your tail and the trail, but it isn't the gravity so much as the ground that gets you. I definitely look better on big horses.

I think I've just had good luck with most of the ponies and shorties I've ridden. I am possibly more likely to stick the dumb stuff because I'm not as worried about the aforementioned gravity— I'm sure that's a heavy piece of subconscious lurking around in my brain. I like their pluck and I like the ones that don't give a hoot about their height and will smash up a much bulkier full-sized horse without so much as a blink. Bandit is really quite tiny when you scrutinize him. Most of his papers say he's 15 hands, but I would guess 14.3 is a little more on track. He is not heavy boned but fairly stout and quite fit at the minute, so I don't think I look utterly ridiculous.

One of my favorite mounts at my old camp was named Mao Mao. Mao Mao was an Icelandic / pony / somethin-somethin'. I looked ridiculous on Mao Mao. I would have probably made an attempt to buy Mao Mao if I thought I was going to continue riding, because Mao Mao could carry any old sunofabuck on his back and was an absolute champ. Mao Mao was an asshole, frankly, as the cherry on top. And I loved him. Still do. See him in a pasture not too far away.

All that said, Pax is towering and I'm concerned I forgot that.. Whoops, I prefer short horses. I finally took some scissors and luck to her mane and said goodbye to the chunks that were still long and beautiful. Our new fence is supposed to be in before summer, and we have replaced all of our roundbale feeders— some with this great, high-density plastic kind. So hopefully once her mane grows back again, she can be Belgian Repunzel for longer and won't snag it all out.

Anyway, the seed behind this entire post is the first picture up top there. My dear friend Tiff drove up from San Antonio today to ride horses and shoot the breeze, and after a fairly successful arena adventure on little Indigo (only our second ride in there, actually) we decided to see how things went out in the open. I've ponied and packed him around some of our trails without any fireworks at all, and today was no different. He rolled with the punches and followed in a relatively well-mannered way. Occasionally he leans into the bit and tries to plow horse through a request, but he is quick to remember who the boss lady is. I have brought along some kind of whip on our last few rides (the dressage whip has worked the best) and he sometimes requires a cluck-squeeze-tap-TAP! reminder to, y'know, actually move forward. But really, he is doing great. As of April or May, he will be three. And yeah, you can watch YouTube clips of futurity horses doing ridiculously advanced things at his age.. But this is my first horse started all on my own, and he wasn't exactly imprinted at birth. So I think we're doing pretty well. It's mostly by his good graces!

In less positive news, Bandit and I are staying home this weekend. He appears to be recovering from a soft tissue injury of the minor variety. Vet took x-rays and, while he looks 100% sound, it isn't worth the cost or the risk to haul him to Oklahoma. The good news is, for being an old fart with bad breeding, Bandit's joints are in excellent shape. Will do my very best to get to the Wimberly Wayfarer in May.

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.

Winter Updates

True story— I helped start a blog for my workplace (shameless plug: heyheycfa.blogspot.com) and am supposed to be writing there once a week. That kind of scheduled pressure tends to make my head dance and I've failed not only at maintaining a weekly status quo for CFA, but any sort of commentary at all on my personal blogs. I don't feel like I have a tremendous amount of stuff to say over at the more personal blog (blah blah, very happy, very busy, love Richard, blah blah, dog did cute thing) so I find myself back here, talking Barn Stuff, and feeling more at home because most of my time is luckily spent at the barn anyhow.

First off, Bandit. We completed our second NATRC ride, minus tornadic interference, at the Six-O Ranch near Cleburne, Texas, about five hours north. I received a fourth place in Lightweight Novice (it still tickles me that I'm considered a lightweight; all hefty 5'10" of me; YAY for treeless tack!) Horsemanship again, but The Band-Aid moved up to claim a sixth place ribbon in his class! I feel especially good knowing that he completely blew his second pulse & respiration check by blowing a gasket over nothing. His other two, where he behaved as a normal animal might, were excellent— which is even more impressive considering he was jigging, head-tossing, and egged on to bolt for 29.5 out of the 30 miles. I truly enjoyed meeting the other CTR competitors again; they are a very open-armed bunch and I felt more at ease putting Bandit at the very head of his class, paced with a handsome TWH and his friendly, chatty owner. We rode both days together, and while I eked out one placing above her in horsemanship skills, she swept our division for overall combined placing. Reactions to seeing my flashy little bastard ranged from people exclaiming over his good looks (nobody, I repeat, NOBODY thinks he's handsome in West Texas.. or South Central Texas for that matter) and his color and his behavior akin to that of a four-year-old. Once I explain he is seventeen, I get one of two reactions. One, "I never would have guessed! Don't worry, he will settle down soon." And two, "Do you think you should try the Open Division? What about endurance racing?" I take the second as a compliment not in that we are fantastic at NATRC, (we aren't at all, and we run through half of the obstacles) but in that my old horse maintains enough energy to be a ball of crazy from Mile 1 to Mile 30, two days in a row. He isn't a bit tired at the end of it, despite taking half of the ride at an interesting side-steppy parade lope.


So, I stick to my belief that Bandito is A Special Case and that he is truly the only horse of his kind in my lifetime, through the faults of my own, his owners before him, and his own nature. Whether that proves to be a good or bad thing, I may only be able to answer as a (hopefully) old lady.

Our dressage riding has been going pretty well. After the Mike Vermaas classical clinic last fall, I finally pushed forward to begin lessons with somebody more local and more affordable. Sally takes an approach a la Centered Riding, and while I have not seen the dramatic and elegant change Mike showed me through an hour or two of work with Bandy, she is a warm and truthful instructor and gives straightforward but challenging homework to take back with us. Right now, I am working on identifying footfalls through feel and subsequently knowing where my core needs to be with each stride my horse takes. (What a drastic change from "Lock your heels down, eyes up, shoulders back, WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T BOUNCE!" that I have been taught and was guilty of teaching.) For our rides, I've been combining Sally's Centered Riding techniques to develop myself while asking Bandit for the give that Mike was able to bring out in us. And I've been reading the pants off of every dressage book I can, most of which sail over my head. But proof is in the pudding— I am really looking forward to seeing Sally in a week and showing her that yes, in fact, we are capable of 20 meter circles and being in the neighborhood of being on the bit! It has been a lot of bareback work and digging a hole in our crappy arena from hoofprints in the damp.

Still feeling out the Dr. Cook's bridle. We have had some excellent progress with it in the arena and roundpen, and I've found he has settled in to the different pressure well and is able to collect himself almost as consistently as with the snaffle. But.. Julie came over last week and brought Artex, and we went on a nice after-work ride around camp. Bandit walks, trots, canters peacefully and happily on a loose rein with the bitless as long as he is in the lead. However, when we switched into a higher gear and let Artex take the lead (because Artex, too, sort of sucks at being a follower) it was like Bandit was wearing a soft, cottony halter. Little to no response, nose braced against the pressure, not listening a lick.. I had to pull out the one-rein e-brake, and I RARELY have had to do that in my life. Granted, putting a zippy little horse into a race situation is not the smartest way to push the limits of a piece of equipment we have only been using for a couple of months, but it has deterred me from choosing the Dr. Cook's for high-speed trail work with friends. If we are on our own, it's still an excellent tool that we are learning to explore more and more. Going to keep our hands on the Little "S" hack for CTRs, however.


Pax is truly the benevolent barn princess. I've said that before and will again a thousand times in her life, but you have to watch the herd in action for a bit to understand. The Potomac Fever clearly did not stunt her growth noticeably; she is a beheamoth of a long yearling with hunks of thick gold mane that rivals my hair in length. She floats around the pasture with a big, lazy trot with surprisingly few dirty looks, even from the Evil Mare Society we house in our pasture. She has maintained petite Quarab Karat as a lady-in-waiting, but fellow giant Marquee (our LOPE OTTB) is now her queen's consort and I can't help but worry what can happen when those two monsters get moving.

I get nervous that she may get a mind to clear a fence at some point, so we have switched to gentle lunging on a line instead of work in the round pen. She's in a flightier mindset than a few months ago, but I think you can chalk that up to hormones and cold weather. We've been working on moving hind- and fore-quarters independently and I know I need to rig up some long lines so we may begin a little ground driving in the proper spring. Vet was surprised and pleased at how full her recovery has been (also said I could stop worrying about her round belly) and the vet exclaimed "that's the best behaved yearling I know!" which is pretty good praise, considering they spent 10 days with her at the clinic in August.

Great personality, through and through. She graciously visits every person who comes to call on her, no matter what. She is a lover and she knows her source of comfort. Love that big girl. Sometimes I stare at her and have to convince myself again she is mine. Then I get to thinking, What the hell am I going to do with a horse like this? And then I go pick up where I left off in an issue of Dressage Today and start hoping a lot.

And as for Indigo, he is out being a horse. Our elementary, under-saddle sessions sort of stalled after early December for no other reason that other things took precedence and time got short. I am not comfortable starting real work under saddle until late 3 / 4, so he has plenty of time. We have enjoyed several good groundwork sessions, working on manners and leading and following the push of applied pressure. And not trying to eat hands. The line between hands and food sometimes seems fuzzy, though he is sharp as a tack on most everything else. In the past couple of months, he has started the transition from being Interested Observer of New Humans in the pasture to being bold enough and confident enough in himself to step up and get friendly. Crazy to think that exactly a year ago, he was a scruffy, untouched two-year-old in a Nevada valley. He is a horse that will do well with the right kind of confidence boost and providing I stay structured. From what I understand of BLM horses going wrong in their training, I know I have to nip issues in the bud quickly. For me, that means going very slowly, despite a clever pupil.


— — —

I read some really interesting advice at the back of Equus this month. A novice woman bought a green horse for the first time, and an experienced horseman told her to simply talk to her horse through every minute of her progress with him. She said it worked, clearly not because the horse picked up on fluent English, but because (1) it calmed her down and lowered the tension between them and (2) her cadence and tone deeply affected the horse's response and action. Maybe not constantly, but I should get more comfortable with carrying on a conversation with my horses while we work. Despite a nagging feeling I might look insane.

— — —

In final bits and pieces, I spent last Saturday afternoon in Center Point watching a handful of ladies do some groundwork with their respective horses using Pat Parelli's Natural Horsemanship methods. It was very interesting; I've been around one Parelli trainer and watched a handful of his videos and saw some different approaches to making communication between horse and handler more fluid. Still not convinced it is The Only Way, but I don't think there is any One Way. I was offered some one-on-one instruction on his methods and the games (only a few of which I really remember well) from the ranch owner and I plan on taking her up on it if our schedules ever align. Always good to learn more.

Looked at a very cute gelding who I wish were about two inches taller. Richard doesn't exactly need a horse at the minute, but he caught my attention in part because he reminded me of a bolder version of Bandit, and in part because he was a handsome little guy. We will see where Blackjack ends up..

I spoke for the Equestrian Track of the 2011 Southwest Camping Conference last week along with two other professionals and our vet. Talked about our Adopt-a-Horse lesson program and our extended private lease agreements. It went quite well, actually. Met some other camp horse people, loved touring Camp Waldemar.

I've been roped into hauling a horse for a good friend to a polocrosse clinic on Saturday. I am not bringing a horse and can only stay to "audit" a couple of hours, but it should be interesting. The fellows name is Guy Roberts, apparently a big deal among polocrosse players in England. Always love getting a chance to watch a true professional, even if I can't envision my horse being slightly okay with flying balls and sticks during a fast-paced game. It would be kind of fun to do with friends, but my optimism isn't overwhelming. Bandit and I already broadened our horizons enough last year to last awhile.

Richard leaves for the Oklahoma Horseshoeing School this Saturday for a shorter term than we originally thought. His work with my farrier has gone well and he is eager to get back here and learn more while working. I'm proud of him for finding something that clearly drives him passionately more than his degree did, nervous about the entrepreneurial aspect of the job (this coming from a woman who loves the relative stability of working for the YMCA or the park service) and secretly quite pleased with myself for marrying a farrier and not even knowing it. He's been working hard, and it shows. He has a lot to learn but is one of those people with a damnable natural ability to pick things up, and a good mind when dealing with people and animals. His mum and sister are accomplished horsewomen and he learned his horsemanship early in the U.K. I'll miss him— and his help around the barn!

Ride on,
M.A.