Trail Rides

This time of year, as the weather starts to improve (she states optimistically), I start getting pestered to take people out on some trail rides. Those of you readers who know me in person know that I would rather clean sheaths all day than go on a trail ride. I have a stock answer that generally gets me off the hook with people. It goes something like this:
Trail riding presents a lot of uncontrolled risk, and it's not relaxing for me to feel responsible for everyone and their horses' lives.

But... that's not entirely the truth. The other reason I don't want to go on trail rides is more along these lines:
Riding through the woods looking at trees is BORING!!!

Boring

Fun!

Boring....

Fun!!

I would so much rather putter around in an arena than meander in the wilderness. Trail riding has no challenge, and therefore I think it's awful. There, I said it. Anyone agree with me?

Trusting and Letting Go

As a riding instructor, part of my job is having faith in my students and letting them step out and do things independantly. I have always found this pretty easy to do,as I tend to have a large amount of faith in my students ability to rise to the occasion. I have seen pairs succeed that I was told would be a total disaster. I have seen these students continue on with those same horses and succeed in areas I would not have imagined possible. But for some reason, it's been a struggle to let my horses do the same.

A large part of my teenage years was spent riding the unstarted horse I recieved for my 15th birthday. I learned tons about training, and I really enjoyed watching my silly 2 year old transform into a steady eddy school horse and 4H State Fair Competitor. Sadly, though, I had a hole in my riding education. I went from a pretty uneducated backyard rider to training. I learned how to hold my horse together, how to manage the direction of his feet, and keep him supple and forward. But I didn't learn to let him go. I found security in my reins, which at times I really needed! So now, a few years down the road, I'm working on filling in that gap. For a while, my training philosophy was based on a lot of input, I wanted every step to be planned and executed the way I wanted it. Now, I'm working on treating my horses like partners. I want to help them perform the movements I ask for but allow them to start taking more responsibility for their actions. This means sometimes I go faster than I want, or in a less than perfect bend, and sometimes not even the direction I was planning; but these are all learning opportunities. I'm able to encourage my horses to be more willing and independant by not being afraid of their mistakes. I'm raising my expectations of my horses,  and it's cool the way they rise to the occasion. It's my challenge to be clear in what I want and to stay out of their way. It's their responsibility to try to the best of their ability.

It's definitely been a challenge, and I know this isn't the last hole I'll have to fill. The rewards are worth it. I'm having fun letting my horses do their thing, and I'm learning a lot from them.

Summer Camp Chronicles Part I

Riding at summer camps was a big part of my early riding experience. As early as the age of 7, I was beebopping around on camp horses having the time of my life. While this wasn't a terribly educational portion of my riding carreer, it gave me lots of saddle time, confidence, and an appreciation for these hardworking saints. Someday, I'll write about those wonderful camp experiences, but today, I'm going to write about one of the most miserable weeks of my life.

It all started with a brochure I picked up at a local tack store. The camp was located in Canada, about an hour away from one of our favorite ski resorts. And it was a jumping camp.  Up to this point I had ridden almost exclusively western, but I reeeeeeally wanted to try jumping. I figured this was the easiest way to get some good experience under my belt.While I was a year older than the listed maximum age for the camp, I was allowed to enroll. I worked my butt off in my riding lessons getting in shape to jump, and when summer rolled around, I knew I was ready to jump sweet jumps.

The camp was about a 10 hour drive from home, but it just so happened some friends were taking a long summer vacation at the ski resort nearby. She offered to pick me up from the airport and drop me off at camp. My dad had faxed all the paperwork in advance so there wouldn't be any problems. We thought.
When I arrived, the gal asked for my paperwork. And wanted a parent to sign forms. She almost didn't take me... I was so nervous. Looking back, that may have been a blessing in disguise. Over the course of the week I was accused of sneaking into the 14 year old boy's tent among a litany of other silly charges that I had nothing to do with. But this isn't a blog about crappy camp counselors.. let's get back to the horses. I was assigned a plump little appy mare with no mane or tail to speak of. She was cute and reminded me of a horse at home... we hit it off pretty well. Sadly, the camp owner was not impressed. The very first day, she stuck me in the beginner group, many of these students couldn't even steer. Her reasoning? Because I was "just a western rider". After the first day I was moved into a more advanced group, and we immediately started off jumping 2'3'". This camp did not focus so much on teaching you what you were doing as simply surviving. Luckily, I didn't scare easy. Even after watching lots of refusals and runouts, it was my turn.... the feeling of just riding up to a jump and knowing my horse was going to sail over built my confidence, even though I had no idea what I was doing.

Looking back now, I realize how sad those poor horses must have been. Many had physical issues- I saw stringhalt, eye issues, and enough lameness to make you shake your head. I couldn't pull the noseband tight enough to pass tack check, and I'm quite sure my little close contact saddle with a plain pad didn't do any favors for my saintly appy's back. I did learn a few things about jumping... mostly how to stay out of a good horse's way. At the end of the week show for the parents,  the "just a western rider" won the equitation class. I'll never go back there, but I never want to forget my terrible week at camp.

It's so Wednesday

What a soggy day at the barn! I'm going to have to dig out Cricket's water wings if it keeps going like this :) I was looking through some old photo albums (remember those?) and found a photo of  me riding Cisco while visiting my grandma in Kansas.

And also.. this gem

 (Camp Berachah, Age 9ish)

Here is a better view of what is apparently my favorite riding outfit at this period in time.

(Note the different helmet and location. omgimadork)

And with that, I wish you a happy Thursday!