Today we had our second lesson with the dressage trainer, herein referred to as DT. True to fashion we were kind of running late... so Holden was flown off of the trailer and dressed in record time. He took this all in stride, eagle eyed as he peered down past the trainer to the faint silhouette of horses behind a layer of tree boughs.
Our lesson began with a light chat about what we had done this week -- AKA, nothing. Holden had a pretty easy week, with two days off and some light rides W/T/C at Scarlett. He came into the lesson willing and much more relaxed than last week.
A short clip of our ride. Some things I need to work on is asking more of him in regards to contact. His rhythm was great today but I need to work on regulation. Keeping the contact consistent ("feel like you're keeping the bit in the corners of his mouth") and keeping my elbows bent to my hips, which I have a tendency to let get too loose. Keeping the outside rein consistent while keeping my arms back and up, as well as keeping the inside rein off of his neck as I ask him to bend with a more "open" connection.
Cantering we need to do more of. An exercise we worked on was figure eights - true bend, straight, change diagonal, change bend -- in that order. The four loop serpentine we worked on this week has really helped his responsiveness and my timing.
Monday marked a milestone for the two of us, as we pulled into a solemnly adorned driveway flanked by trimmed hedges and a single spruce of cornstalk. Here, real Dressage horses resided -- and it reflected in every perfectly manicured blade of grass. The ring was scrupulously dragged, the mirrors that reflected its impressive surface clear and devoid of blemish. Even the mounting blocks bore no trace of scuffed boot or fleck of sand. And then there was Holden, ungroomed and dusty as he stepped out of a trailer swallowed by rust.
We walked the span of the ring while our new instructor finished her current lesson. She commented on his bone and substance, as if surprised to see a thoroughbred comprised of such thickness and quality. We set to work, and work it was.
"More bend", she urged, as I opened my inside rein -- "keep your inside rein off his neck, close your fingers" she chided. "Bring your hips to your hands and your hands to your hips - do not pet him!" There were many flaws in my riding and I felt each one laid bare on the pale and raked ring, plain as a hoofprint on freshly dragged sand.
We worked in a circle, focusing on bending him generously to the inside while pushing him equally generously to the outside. "More leg, tap him when he doesn't respond" - he scooted forwards, offended by the suggestion. "Think walk as you trot", "get the walk you want" "keep his inside hind engaged". We worked on walking and halting smoothly, each footstep carefully planted as she monitored our rhythm like a hawk. The trot, he tended to get quick -- she advised me to think sinking my hips down into the saddle to slow him, and thinking walk. When he became resistant to the contact circle him smaller, send him forward into an open inside rein.
At the end of the lesson she shared a few exercises, her favorite one employing a small serpentine on the short side. This kept him balanced and attentive, though the end of the ride I did feel an ache in my arms. Drawing from the lesson, I saw many things I needed to work on - my length of rein and insistence in maintaining the contact first and foremost. She was demanding, but in the good way -- and in the end, I felt she drew a good ride from the two of us.
On Saturday, I took Holden to Scarlet Hill with the ambition to school some dressage and take advantage of the facility's beautiful footing. I feel in part that our dressage has been painfully stunted by overcoming the challenging surface that is our hilly ring. It's nice to ride on a groomed surface and realize that Holden is actually more broke than he feels at home.
Collected canter, anyone?
The session went well - except one annoying thing.. my Thinline pad kept pushing forward out from under the saddle.. Really bizarre. He was good and quiet for most of the ride - he had a serious aversion to this loudly striped pole in the ring that we had to have a discussion about. We fiddled around, did some W/T/C and then walked out to the cross country field.
We met up with the gal that used to lease my old TB and had a nice hack around the cross country field.. and she and Mike teamed up to convince (read: coerce) me to enter our first show..... which was tomorrow. "But he hasn't shown before" I objected -- "We haven't even had any professional help in months" I whined "he is barely confirmed in right lead canter" I insisted -- "we can't even maintain consistent contact somedays" I wheezed.. my ostensible self-deprecating comments were swiftly shut down by both parties, with heated insistence. I wasn't expecting such a deluge of support.
"But we aren't ready!"
So, at 8:30 AM Sunday I woke up, got some extra strong coffee from Starbucks (to steel my conviction I wasn't making a Huge Giant Mistake) and set to braiding Holden. The cool thing about dutch/hooded braids? They take like no time - I was packed up, groomed, braided, and loaded by 10...
Proof that I braided..
Well, we got there and Holden was really up and alert. It's funny, he doesn't do anything bad.. he just gets so upright and snorty that it sometimes makes me concerned. We walked around for about 45 minutes... just "seeing the sights". The warm up was really busy, so we walked around there until he settled enough to snatch a few bites of grass on our way out.
I still wasn't 100% convinced this wasn't a Huge Giant Mistake, but I was already here. Seriously who decides to attend their first show debut in five years the day before? Not like this type of planning has worked out for me in my life so far.. But we were here, so we tacked up at 11 and I was on him at 11:30. Holden seemed nonplussed once the initial "where-am-I" fear wore off -- we hacked around on a loose rein and did some dallying in W/T/C here and there.
"Is it nap-time yet?"
The funny thing is, he felt way more seasoned than he was. In that chaotic warm up he was with me every step of the way -- soft to the bridle, calm and attentive, he even offered some deep long and low at the canter.. we have trouble doing that at home! I couldn't believe the extraordinary ride he was giving me, and he was so "Ho Hum" about all the screaming children and their pony. He was just "there".
Sadly, I wasn't "there" yet. Our test was just awful, but because of me. I clamped up and stopped riding effectively once I trotted down the center line, which made Holden nervous. Holden's the type that needs a hand-hold (but not chokehold) ride -- and when I withered away he got inverted and stiff -- the judge wrote "out of control" on one of our movements... Whoops. It was kind of like that sudden decline that happens when a pilot steps away from the steering wheel.. Sorry, Holden.
I was really disappointed with how I handled my anxiety - I left the ring and instantly went back to the warm up and tried to get a better ride out of myself. Once again Holden surprised me - with all of my anxiety gone (since the test was done) he picked up the contact on his own and "carried" me - I hadn't had such a good ride out of him before. So the age old adage "it's not you, it's me" is dead on... it's not him, it's me.
I walked away elated though, and couldn't stop smiling for a while. For a horse/rider pair that have had less than four lessons under their belt, I really felt like we accomplished something here: confidence. Hopefully that confidence can develop into competence -- but that's what lessons are for. We tackled a milestone that day, and I'm glad we did it - getting it out of the way has made me feel so much more confident in my abilities as a rider (and Holden's sensibility as a horse) despite a less than stellar test. We got a 48.
At least now we know what to work on. On the 20th, I have a dressage lesson with a local Real Dressage Trainer. Seems like October is the month of firsts for both of us.
Well, it's about time for an update -- we can start with my major revelations and the disaster-wreck that was my most recent ride.
Yesterday, after carefully roping an unwilling assistant in the form of a sister (who, may I mention, required extraction from her house the next town over in the form of copious Starbucks fodder), we decided to cross the road in front of barn to school at the farm a little down the ways - about a half mile of walking undersaddle. Said farm is a lovely facility -- indoor with mirrors (so you can see how horrible your position has gotten over the past month!), nice outdoor adjacent to a very busy road, and plenty of capable riders who watch in horror when a rider can't control their misbehaving horse. We hacked over in good spirits, and I was looking forward to having an engaging ride with Holden.
You see, two things have stunted our dressagerly progress: my inexplicable lack of good aids and timing, and the fact that our home ring is based on the side of a hill. This has proved challenging for me because in this stage of Holden's training it's either work on the balance and forget the contact, or work on the contact and hope his extended trot down the hill doesn't end with a faceplant. We thought schooling in a real live ring would help.
"You want me to behave? Yea.."
Well, you know what they say about horses and plans -- I think mice are involved too. It was a disaster -- my kick ride that is W/T/C with reasonable contact mount regressed to 2 year old Thoroughbred before the gates at first call - bouncing, jigging, tenser than a cat suspended over water.. He felt like a keg of dynamite and it was all I could do to keep his trot manageable. We cantered (well, HE cantered -- I hung on for dear life) and worked on walk halt transitions and shamefully made our way home. Of course, the heathen wasn't even remotely repentant -- he even offered a chipper nicker as we crested the rise of our driveway.
I decided to chalk this up as a loss due to fall and greenness, and elected instead to take on a safer engagement -- braiding. I mean, despite the fact my horse is apparently not ready to trot down the centerline without hysterics, I still can keep the delusional dream going and practice braiding, right? Besides, if he's braided at least he looks pretty during his best primadonna moments.
"Mom! What did you do to me?"
I had practiced earlier that week and the braids (which I trusted would turn out spectacularly after watching a few know-how videos on Youtube) came out looking like swollen door knockers. This is why you practice, right?
I watched a few more videos, got some helpful critique (thanks COTH powers that be!) and set to braiding - the weather was cool, the bugs were gone, and my horse had reverted to his placid self. In ten swift minutes I had plaited the entire sweep of his braid into 8 neat, Pony-Club inspector improved sections and was just about to start sewing... when the plastic needle broke!
