Ange Bean

Will Ride for Food

2012-02-01T12:14:00.000-08:00

I love my job. I spend my life riding and caring for a bunch of really wonderful horses. When I tell people what I do, I get a look of envy from them. “You are so lucky to get to do what you love,” they say, and frankly, I agree with them. I have the amazing luxury of loving the way I earn my groceries.

But there’s a side of me that feels really guilty for spending my life doing something so self-indulgent. I learned social consciousness at my grandmother’s knee, and growing up with a single mom, I remember the winter she had pneumonia and couldn’t work. The grocery gift boxes fed us.

I firmly believe that everyone should give back to their community, so last Saturday SFD held their first “Open Training” session. In it, I sat on Mandy, my young Morgan mare, and did my best to explain what was going on in my mind while I trained her. The cost of admission was a donation to the Chester County Food Bank.

Thank you everyone who came. I hope you got something out of the training, and I know the people who will get the food will also thank you.

Winter Workshop 2012

2012-01-18T07:25:00.000-08:00

By Cheryle Oshman Blunt

I can remember when I was about 10-12 years old, I would sit for hours every spring reading the descriptions of horseback riding camps for kids my age. I was very dedicated to choosing just the right one. Did I want to swim in the pond with “my” horse every day, or did I want the camp where we would jump and jump and jump? I knew even as I pored over those brochures that we did not have enough money to supplement my weekly riding lessons with an expensive camp experience, but it was still a dream.

A few years ago when Ange started talking about adult dressage camp, my excitement bordered on the ridiculous. I told my husband that all I wanted for Christmas was to go to horse camp. Of course, we call it a winter workshop, but you couldn’t fool me, I was finally going to horse camp. Believe me, I wasn’t disappointed.

In the last couple of years, I have my role has shifted from participant to staff. We have some younger riders who participate these days, but most of my time is spent with the adults. And what I see is pretty special. I see a weekend when a bunch of grown-ups get to immerse themselves in their passion. I see people who leave their limitations behind – time limits, physical limits, and the limits of self-consciousness – to grow as dressage riders. Actually, we all grow as equestrians.

This year’s workshop had tons variety, from silly to serious. On the less-traditional-dressage side, we formed a semi-circle around a shivering woman in jingly hip scarves who taught us to isolate our abdominal muscles. Sure, she called belly dancing, but we weren’t fooled. “We call that lead changes,” Ange said, as we popped one hip to the side and then the other.

That wasn’t all. Later on that day, I watched riders grab swords, spears, and lances to try their hands and their horses’ hooves at lobbing heads (well, foam mannequin heads) and pig sticking (or, spearing tape-covered pieces of foam). Needless to say, there was a lot of laughter that day.

In the mounted work, I saw many riders stretching their riding skills in private, group, and seat lessons. Throughout the weekend, everyone was taught by Ange, Cara, and Kelsey, getting different perspectives and different words to help them progress as riders. And boy did they.

The unmounted events catered to dressage geek skills, overall horsemanship skills, and fun skills. The mounted upper-level dressage demonstration and the “how confirmation effects training” theory session satisfied the dressage geeks in the group. Learning to take a horse’s temperature, pulse, and respiration, as well as how to wrap a horse and get tack pony-club clean, satisfied overall horsemanship skills. Then there was goal setting, and the history of those Medieval mounted games to round it all out.

At the end of each day, riders and horses went to bed tired and happy, to return next morning full of smiles and coffee. In all honesty, I’m glad that my camp experience has come to me as an adult. It’s sweeter now than it would have been during my childhood. Whether I participate or teach, full days at the barn surrounded by horses and friends who share my passion is an exquisite luxury I can appreciate keenly. Thanks, Ange, Cara, and Kelsey. And thanks to all who came.

Red Mare Update

2012-01-13T05:48:00.000-08:00

Several people have asked about Venus’ progress, as I have been a bit silent about it lately. Frankly, I was afraid to jinx progress, but at this year’s Winter Workshop, we looked at videos of her at 4, 5, 6, and from December, and I was really pleased with what I saw. To paraphrase Denny Emerson’s latest book, training progress is like grass --you don’t see it growing until it needs cut.

To recap (and save you time digging through old blogs), I purchased Venus as a 2 ½ year old. She proved to be a tricky youngster because of her very fearful nature. Dressage training did what it was supposed to do, giving her more confidence, enough to compete in the young dressage horse FEI classes as a 4-and-5-year-old, and by age 6 she was really coming into her own, giving me a red ribbon in Suitablity at Dressage at Devon.

In March of her 7-year-old year, I was letting her run around in the indoor (we had been stall bound for weeks from crazy amounts of snow – it snowed over 70 inches that winter), and she tried to jump out. She didn’t make it. Yea, it was ugly. “The Crash,” as we call it in the barn, did quite a bit of damage, and took a lot of time off, hand walking, slow rehab, and crossed fingers hoping she would come back 100%.

Last January, almost 2 years after her accident, I had spent 3 days at with Scott Hassler trying to find my “before the crash” mare. Our mixed results left me pretty disheartened. Two weeks after, she gave me 5 minutes of amazing—it was like a pin-prick of light at the far end of a very long tunnel.

In February, six frustrating, doubt-ridden weeks later, we returned to Scott. Some days she’d be cooperative and soft in her body, other days diving onto the forehand and locking her neck. He saw signs of progress, so advised I stay on the same path, but the little light at the end of the tunnel had taken on a frustrating strobe-light feature.

We muddled along this way until April, with a frustrating cycle of her cruising along, looking pretty, but feeling very flat and unresponsive. She would be unresponsive and hide behind the aids, so I would over-ride, then she would hide more, and I would over-ride more, until finally she’d do some dramatic ugliness, and then be really good for a while. I would think we were past her “staleness,” as Scott termed it in February, only to have it show up again a few rides later. My other mounts were progressing consistently, but my own horse was consistently inconsistent. Despite all of the other horse’s progress, Venus’ lack of progress had me feeling like a failure as a trainer.

Because of the dramatic trauma she had inflicted on her body, I worried that the problem was physical. I had the vet, chiropractor, massage therapist, shoer, saddle fitter, and other trainers look at her, and no one could find a physical reason for her lack of responsiveness. Which just added to the frustration–if she didn’t hurt, why couldn’t I get her to work correctly?

It all came to a head in April (while a few students were watching, of course. I guess that’s the risk of having an open training program). Venus was cruising along, oblivious to my aids unless my aids got loud and ugly, then would over-react like I had abused her. I got off frustrated and in tears over Venus’ lack of ridablility. I was emotionally wrung out from fighting with her just to get her to do simple things, like trot from the walk when cued. I decided that if she needed that much pressure to do the work, then I wasn’t the trainer for the job. I just don’t have it in me to use that kind of pressure every day– it was not worth the emotional cost. I felt like I had wasted 2 years and countless dollars trying to rehab her. Maybe she just wasn’t capable of the work. The strobe light at the end of the tunnel flickered to tomb-like darkness.

As timing would have it, I was scheduled to take Secret and Sling to Scott for 3 days. I decided to take Venus for the first day, and then return with Sling for days 2 and 3. I figured if he couldn’t help me with her training block, at least he could help me put a sale price on her.

After I whined to Scott about my frustration, I put her to work, and as I expected, she looked ok. Flat, not responsive enough, but from the ground, she didn’t look nearly as bad as she felt. So he got on.

And he agreed with me.

He said she felt ok in her neck and the contact, but she just wasn’t using her back or hind legs, particularly her left hind. She also was not responding to the seat and leg aids, and it showed up most in the canter. The left canter was stuck, the right canter was quite unbalanced and running. He worked on quickening her responses to the aids, and getting her using her hind legs. She improved. He asked me to leave her for the three days, and he’d ride her again the next day.

I ended up riding her the next day, and the next. He had me warm her up, then ride her in short, 3-7 minute long segments, going between a small compressed trot, walk, compressed trot, and working trot. Then do the same in the canter. The point–the shortened gait makes her bend her hind legs and prevent her from using speed to avoid the work, and the short sets respect her growing back and stifle strength. She, of course, threw a few temper tantrums (she is red, after all), but the frequent breaks kept her temper tantrums from evolving into our now-familiar “battle of the red-heads.” When her temper flared up, he’d have me maintain the current level of intensity with my aids until she relaxed a little, then give her a break. She was not allowed use her emotions to escape the work, any more than using speed to escape the work.

He said this was the path he has wanted to go with Venus for a long time, but she hasn’t shown the emotional maturity to let go here. He felt her mind was ready for it, and frankly, I was at wits end, so I was equally ready.

He sent me home with the advice to use anything to get her more active and uphill EXCEPT forward. Yea, it was the opposite of how I rode pretty much every other horse in the barn, but at this point, I was willing to try anything. He cautioned me that this would probably take six months to get her committed to really bending her hind legs, but he thought I would be happy with the results if I stuck with it. After three days, Scott had managed to turn the tomb back into a tunnel, with dim light at the end of it.

Since I was in uncharted territory with Venus, I begged Jann, the secretary at Hassler Dressage, for a follow-up lesson. Two weeks later, I loaded the mare up and headed down again. I had been a good little dressage queen, and stuck to the homework, but had concerns. I wanted to talk to Scott about adding some lateral work, as I felt like Venus was getting a little bunched-up with the steady diet of transitions within the gait.

Scott saw improvements in two areas – Venus’ acceptance of pressure, and the clarity of my aids. He agreed with adding controlled lateral work, as long as she didn’t swing her hips out to avoid bending her hind legs. Again he advised patience, and he said would start to see an improvement in her gaits and responsiveness gradually over time. He reminded me that I was looking at a 6-month project.

We went home and continued our homework. While this is going on, Silly, my other mare, becomes lame and subsequently bred, I am hitting show season with Eclipse, Secret, Flash and Sling, someone hits and totals my truck, and we are moving to our new barn—in no particular order. I like stress. Stress keeps my outlook so positive.

With the new barn though, Venus could again get turnout, which helped settle some of her mental tension. She was becoming consistent in the work–not stellar, but consistent, which is enough for me. I started to notice additional filling in her left fore at bed check. It would be gone by morning, and she was sound, but as I am good at worrying, it worried me.

Dr. Crowley came out, and instead of doing a full lameness, we just ultrasound the left front. In it, we found two things. First, hiding in there was one last relic from her crash two years earlier. Apparently, in addition to all the damage she did to her left hind stifle, left hind foot and abdominal muscles, she had also injured her left front superficial flexor tendon. Because we weren’t aware of it, we had not rehabbed it correctly, so it had healed with the fibers in a criss-cross pattern instead of parallel. Second, the blind splint she acquired as a 4-year-old had grown, and was putting pressure on the suspensory ligament. On the ultrasound, we could see the suspensory curving around the splint, but the suspensory itself looked fine (huge sigh from me).

I hadn’t gone this far to give up, and I know the best way to help her front leg was to make sure her hind end was 100%, so I asked Dr. C to inject her hocks and purchased a therapeutic ultrasound. The plan—use the therapeutic ultrasound to warm the ligament before work, ice the ligament after work, avoid extended trot and canter (which really wasn’t a problem with our current training plan), and recheck in several months.

We continued to make steady progress through the summer, and her mind became more and more calm. She became more and more accepting of the work without throwing temper tantrums—a huge step for her, and necessary for her to climb the levels. Regardless of Venus’ innate athletic talent, if she couldn’t accept training pressure, logically, she couldn’t progress up the levels—which, of course, was my winter frustration. Her only minor setbacks were honest physical complaints, and quickly resolved (sore front feet when the ground got hard resolved with hoof packing, a really tight back just before she cycled resolved with B-L, that sort of thing). The light at the end of the tunnel was at about 25-watts, but steady.

In late July, I took her back to Scott to check her progress. He was very pleased with what he saw, especially in the trot work. We worked on creating more activity in her lateral work, instead of just using it to break up the compression work. We added activating the walk before the canter to get the first stride of canter more uphill, added more school figures in canter, but kept the canter strides relatively small. Again he cautioned me against big, forward gaits. He told me he’d like to see her canter pirouettes starting to develop before we introduce the medium canter. Finally, we had some true forward progress. The light dialed up to 60 watts.

By August, Venus was beginning to have moments of really swingy, soft work, and was starting to offer more work on her own, but I still felt like we were getting stuck, especially in the canter. I took her to Scott for a check-up, and after he watched me warm up, he said I had more hind-end activity than front end movement – a huge change from April. We spent the lesson discussing techniques to teach her to lift her shoulders more. I went home with my mind full of new ideas for the direction of her training, and the bulb burning a bright 75 watts.

Venus and I continued to plug away, using various techniques to improve her balance and suppleness in trot and canter. I mixed her work days with lots of walks on the hills to keep her mind fresh. Somewhere along there I started to really look forward to riding my girl.

In September, again I returned to Scott for a check-up, and he was thrilled (his words, actually). Ashley, the assistant trainer at Hasslers who has seen Venus since she was 5, didn’t recognize her. I was actually a bit surprised by their reactions. Venus had improved gradually, and although I knew that we weren’t fighting any more, I hadn’t realized her gaits and balance had changed so dramatically. Scott sent me home with the orders of “come back with a canter pirouette.” The light bulb was burning bright and steady.

I didn’t realize how much she had improved until Jann e-mailed me to say Scott wanted me to ride in the Debbie McDonald clinic in October. Back in the spring, he had advised against taking her to any clinics or shows, as he felt like any deviation from her current training path had high set-back potential. That he felt she was ready to trot out in public was a huge blast of sunshine at the end of the tunnel.

Venus will always be Venus, and the week before the clinic, her left front started to hold fluid again. She was sound, but felt a bit sticky in her warm-up. I decided that two days of hard work in front of 100 auditors wasn’t in her best interest. Secret jumped for the clinic, and was brilliant, of course.

Dr. Crowley again came out, and the ultrasound of the digital flexor tendon showed significant improvement (yea!), but the splint had fluid around it. We decided to use shock-wave therapy to try to dissolve the problematic splint.

After the first treatment, the sticky warm-up was gone. By the second treatment, the splint was significantly smaller, and she was working brilliantly. We headed down to Scott’s for our December lesson, and Kelsey tagged along to shoot some video. The lesson went well, with work on improving her right lead canter, improving the clarity of her half-pass work, and cleaning up her changes. At one point, she locked into a brilliant, balanced, ridable left-lead canter that completely rocked my world.

Then I came home and watched the video. She looked even better than she felt.

I am touching wood as I type, but I feel like Venus and I are standing at the end of the tunnel looking into the full sunshine, and it is a wonderful place to be.

Cliffs Notes from Clinics

2011-12-18T18:07:00.000-08:00

My favorite movie is Dangerous Beauty, the story of a 16^th century Venetian courtesan. One scene depicts the heroine, addressing a group of Venetian wives, and, as she is peeling a banana, she says, “The Latin for banana is arienna. Banana tree is pala. A woman’s greatest, and most hard-won asset is an education.” The scene is all the more memorable since she concludes by deep-throated the banana, but that doesn’t really relate to my blog, so I’ll leave that alone….

I treasure my education, and I routinely augment my regular lessons with clinics. The quality of education from this year’s clinician list has been truly impressive. Secret, Venus, Eclipse, Sling, Flash, and Legend have been my mounts, and I thought I would give you a peak at my lesson notes. Rather than bore you with pages and pages of notes from each specific clinic for each specific horse – and believe me, I have them – I thought I’d sum up in a Cliff’s Notes-style blog. None of these things are profound, as the difficulty of dressage is not in the complexity, but rather in the specificity. So here goes.

Control every part of my body. Control my thigh pressure, control my seat, control the angle of my pelvis, control the placement of my legs, control the pressure in my calves, control my hands. Ride better.

Control every part of the horse, every stride. Control the shoulders, control the hind legs, control the tempo, control the balance. Train better.

Keep every part of my body separate. If I need to boot a horse forward, my hands need to stay still. Otherwise it’s confusing to the horse.

Sometimes I need to ride the harmony, sometimes I need to disrupt the harmony to change a specific item – balance, suppleness, activity, obedience. Then I need to re-establish the harmony. Don’t leave the exercise until the harmony is reestablished.

Pushing when there’s tension only makes more tension.

Pushing when there’s relaxation and balance sometimes creates some really amazing work. Don’t coast when it feels good, use the “good” to make “even better.”

Tempo and clarity of the gait cannot be overestimated. If every stride isn’t in a clear, correct rhythm, fix it. Don’t move on until that basic is in place. Skimping on that step will cost you balance and suspension in the long run.

The calf is for go. The spur or a thumping calf is the correction for not responding to the calf. Save the whip for collection.

If I think my horse is supple enough, supple some more. A lack of suppleness can show up as heavy on the aids, running from the aids, or just plain stiffness.

Ride the horse out to your hand. Don’t take the bit back to the horse. If the horse won’t go to the bit, check the suppleness, then let the horse go out to the bit again. Ride better.

Ride the horse out to both reins first, and then worry about bend. If he’s not out to both reins, I don’t have control of enough parts of him to make a correct bend anyway.

If my horse is heavy in one rein, make sure the opposite shoulder isn’t popping out. Don’t give him the rein to lean on, instead put movement in the “heavy” rein, and a steady contact on the rein that is avoiding contact. And get off the track – the second track encourages straightness.

Break things down for the horse. If he understands walk pirouette from the seat aid, but wants too much help from the rein in the canter pirouette, keep going between the two until he understands that it’s the same thing, just a different gait. Teach the horse, don’t just muscle him. Train better.

Know what I am doing and why. When I ride a circle, I need to know what I want to accomplish through that circle. Do I want more bend? Do I want to control the tempo? Do I want to improve the balance? The clearer I am in my mind, the more clearly I will communicate to my horse.

If an exercise begins to fall apart, stick to the “why.” If I wanted leg yield in trot to improve suppleness, and the horse misunderstood and cantered, rather than correct the gait (which wasn’t the goal of the exercise) stay in leg yield until the horse understands and gives me more suppleness.

In short, ride better and train better. I think that’s what we all want. With or without the banana.

A Little Help from My Friends, Part 2

2011-12-05T06:01:00.000-08:00

In addition to Cheryle and Linda, two people fall into the “I can’t live without them” category – Doug and Amy.

Yea, Doug is my husband, and he is contractually obligated to be around, but the level of support he gives me goes far beyond the ‘good horse husband’ requirement. In reality, SFD is what it is because of him.

About 9 years ago, I was in a slump. I had left my working student position and starting to build my own business. I understood that building a business takes time, but I had a few other things going on. Swayze, the horse I had developed while I was a working student, was dying of cancer. I was busting my butt as a waitress to cover Swayze’s vet bills. I was riding for a gal with some nice dressage horses, and frankly, I could tell she was working her way off of my client list. The remaining handful of students only had outdoor arenas, and it was fall. I was looking at a long winter in the restaurant, feeling like I wasted four working-student years and had nothing to show for it. I decided I had had enough, and it was time to engage the back-up plan and return to school.

Doug and I were living together, but we weren’t married yet, and frankly, I don’t know how he put up with my depressed, surly self.

I brought up the topic of returning to school. He was supportive of my plans, telling me it didn’t matter to him what I did for a living, as long as I was happy.

Then he bought me a web site, and lent me money to attend a USDF instructor workshop.

The web site became a turning point for me. It started as equichic.com and later, when we rented our first barn 2 years later, evolved into straightforwarddressage.com. The early web site helped me stay focused on my goal. It gave me a place to organize my training theory, showcase my students and horses, and helped me see the big picture of my career, instead of getting bogged down in the day-to-day ups-and-downs of building a business. Later, when SFD started to need me more in the arena than behind the desk, Doug learned Dreamweaver and became webmaster.

The USDF Instructor Workshop was another turning point. At the workshop, I met Mary Russell, who has Lucky Cricket Farm. She asked me to come teach a series of clinics at her place, and from that clinic came three training horses, all of which the owners wanted to see in the show ring – two under me, and one under his jr rider. Mary has a full-time job in addition to a lesson barn, so that is a service she couldn’t provide.

As a working student, I had funneled my limited funds into clinics, so my show resume had a glaring 5-year gap in it. Competition exposure was something I really needed, and those three horses got me back in the show ring. All three horses have won numerous year-end and all-breeds awards, Pentacle with his junior rider Victoria. One of those horses is Statesman’s Eclipse, the Morgan stallion, and he is still with me, currently competing at PSG.

Since that pivotal winter, Doug has worn the hats of photographer, video editor, show groom, holder-of-the-homefront while Ange is at shows, stall help, chief maintenance man, moral support and occasional kick-in-the pants. My dreams come true every day because of this wonderful man.

Amy is my groom, and is the best groom I have ever had. One of the realities of riding professionally is I just don’t have the time to curry and buff to my heart’s content. How a horse is handled on the ground directly relates to how they go under saddle, so having the right groom is crucial.

I remember when I hired Amy. I had been trying to fill my grooming need with working students and in-house for a couple of years, and finally gave up and put an ad in the Horse of Delaware Valley. I had a good response to my ad, but I was worried about the whole interview process – what questions should I ask, what if I hired the wrong person, etc. I set up interviews with nine people, and by the end of the day, I asked two of them to come in and try the job for a day (with pay, of course). In reality, I liked Amy the best, but the other gal had a stronger resume.

Once the day was over, it was clear that Amy was the right one for the job. She has been with me over a year, and I hope she never leaves. She is careful and safe, the horses all like her, and she is great at the details. Two of my horses, in particular, have a LOT of details to help them perform their best, and Amy handles all of their quirks like it’s no big deal. Plus she has a great sense of humor, something that is sorely underestimated in a barn.

Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover the depth of emotion I have for the help and support you two give me.

From the Student's Perspective -- Alexa and Mi Alma

2011-11-30T11:40:00.000-08:00

Alexa Derr is one of my juniors who spent last winter working with SFD's schoolmasters. I thought it would be fun to see how her winter lessons affeted her show season. So I asked her to write a blog for us.

by Alexa Derr

Last winter, I had the opportunity to ride SFD’s schoolmasters, Silly and Pikasso. and those lessons really shaped me as a rider for Mi Alma, my young horse. Thanks to them, Mi Alma gave me a truly memorable 2011 competition season.

Before every lesson, I would get butterflies in my stomach. Mentally, I psyched myself out thinking that maybe if I sat there and looked pretty, Silly would do the rest, since she is a schoolmaster. As you know, that’s not the case. It took time for me to stop riding her as if she was a glass horse and my inexperience would surely break her. Once I got over that, we had some really good rides where I learned to organize Silly’s big engine and big gaits.

Once I had a handle on balancing the big dressage engine, Pikasso took over teaching me the lateral movements. We clicked and his power was perfect for me. Riding lateral movements gave me a variety of tricks when schooling other horses. He has amazing willingness in collection, and riding half steps for the first time sent me to cloud nine! These two horses took me from sitting and looking pretty on a horse to feeling every movement, using different parts of my body independently, and riding actively.

After searching months for my next dressage partner, I found my budget was too limited for a trained horse. So I had to get creative and start from scratch…how about a three-year-old off-the-track thoroughbred? I met Mi Alma two weeks after his last race in October of 2010. With his puppy dog personality and sound mind, we bonded instantly and I knew he was the right project for me. I had hoped to train him enough to sell, and then use that money to buy a more trained horse.

After an exciting winter of learning and growing, it was time to put my new tricks to use. In late spring, Mi Alma and I had the opportunity to ride with Suzanne Hassler of Hassler Dressage. I was decently calm and collected on the drive down, but as soon as I walked into that amazing facility and humongous ring, I became a deer in headlights. I had to overcome those paralyzing voices in my head, which is easier said than done.

Ange got me out of my fear with her ever-tactful words, “You don’t suck and you won’t suck.” It worked, I snapped out of it and RODE. Turns out, there was nothing to be afraid of after all. Miss Suzanne was such a sweet lady and a great confidence booster. She declared Mi Alma a possible third level candidate. So maybe he isn’t a resale project after all. He could be the one to help me reach my goal of ‘A’ Dressage rating (third level) in United States Pony Club.

Mi Alma was very easy to mold into frame, but that was the problem. Over the summer, he trapped me into doing his work. He looked pretty just coasting down the long side, earning his pretty blue ribbons at intro level, meanwhile my arms and legs were killing me. Enough was enough; it was time for some role reversal. Getting his hind end under, his back swinging and his forehand up was very challenging, especially with his three-year-old body parts going every which direction. Keeping his shoulders aligned, his barrel/back pliable and non-board-like, his legs where I wanted them, and a relaxed top line was no easy task. Once again I had to overcome my mental block and get those independent aids back in action. When I did, boy did it make a difference.

Then the ‘C’ word came into the picture… Canter. Looking back, I am not really sure why I was so nervous to canter since his days on the racetrack were short lived due to his lack of energy. But I think the transitions was the problem. His transitions went from trot, crash on the forehand, race to the first stride of canter, and then crash on the forehand again. Again with body parts flying everywhere, Mi Alma had me trapped into doing his work. It was bad enough my dad started calling me “noodle,” due to my flopping arms, stomach and legs. Rather attractive right?

So back to those beloved seat lessons I went. After a nice tune-up, I was able to “sit, slide (my legs into position), cue.” Bam! We had a non-scary transition followed by a decently uphill canter! My oh my what one week at SFD Baby Boot Camp can do.

Now, the day I had been dreaming of finally came. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about the “Big Leagues:” Dressage at Devon! Now if you have met Mi Alma, you know he has the most laid back personality, so timing warm-up, class size, and class time length was quite the task. In the end, he had just enough energy to strut out of that ring with that DAD green ribbon flapping on his bridle. Remembering that day brings such a smile to my face because I not only overcame all butterflies, but I held my own riding in a ring of professionals.

Mi Alma has taught me patience and how to be affirmative in my cues. He has also taught me to anticipate his reactions and from there I am able to cue faster and more accurately. This has helped me to feel more and use independent aids to their capability. Thank you to Ange, my parents, the Brok family for finding Mi Alma, our fan club, and those who played hooky from school and work to watch us at Devon!

OVCTA's Big Fall Show

2011-11-09T05:02:00.000-08:00

I love OVCTA’s Big Fall Show. It falls on the first Sunday in November, and marks the end of the show season for those of us at SFD. But that’s not why I love it.

Despite it's humble name, the BFS is a 4-ring, well-ran and well-judged schooling show. The rules for dress code, bits, etc, are enforced just like a recognized show, all the way down to the bit-check technical delegate policing warm up. It has the feel of a recognized show at a fraction of the cost. But that’s not why I love it.

The BFS is staffed with an army of friendly volunteers. They greet you with a good morning, wish you a good ride, and just make the whole show-stress thing a lot less stressful. But that’s not why I love it.

The BFS hosts the championship classes for OVCTA’s schooling series, and gives great prizes. The show committee goes out of their way to make sure each competitor’s packet has a treat for the rider and a treat for the horse. Each Dressage Seat Equitation rider gets a prize, as well as all of the team competitors. The champions get embroidered saddle pads, huge ribbons, a victory gallop and a perpetual trophy. But that’s not why I love it.

As a barn, my students have typically done quite well at the BFS. But that’s not why I love it.

The BFS is held at Ludwig’s Corner show grounds, which is close to home, so most of my students show up either to compete or be moral support for each other. A few years ago, one of my students brought wine and cheese to share. The tradition has grown, and this year the show committee let us set up a snack table for everyone to share. The adults, the kids, the parents, volunteers, and various supportive friends and family members hung out, watched, and supported each other, turning what could be a stressful year-end championship into a fun, relaxing day spent enjoying our horses.

That’s why I love the Big Fall Show.

A Little Help from my Friends, Part 1

2011-10-25T04:06:00.000-07:00

This last year has been a little crazy, even by my standards. We moved the barn to a winter home, then to our permanent home, then last month Doug and I moved ourselves into the cottage on the farm. Here's a few blogs about it all:

First, last November. How was the move? Well....

Then in June, SFD has a New Home

Then July, What Have you Been up to? Well...

Now that things have settled down a bit, I find my mind wandering dangerously close to sentimental thoughts about SFD’s amazing community. They kept our barn afloat while we navigated some stressful seas. This blog is part one of a thank-you to these wonderful people. If stress brings out people’s true characters, then this year showed me that SFD is made up of some truly wonderful people.

This summer, at a show, a member of the SFD family had a lousy day. We’ve all had them, those days when nothing goes right, and at a show, it seems even worse. I was standing at an uphill vantage point, and I watched as other members of the SFD community literally surrounded her and gave her a listening ear, words of encouragement, and all the moral support that a good barn is supposed to give. It was an awesome moment for me -- SFD operating as a supportive, nurturing community. That was my goal when I hung my shingle 6 years ago. Learning this sport is hard, on both physical and emotional levels, and a community of caring friends that understand makes finding the joy in the journey easier.

Even before that day, I knew that SFD is not about me, it is about everyone. SFD has grown beyond the original 9-stall barn, and beyond the fences of the SFD barn itself. Every pull-in lesson student, every off-farm location student, is embraced as family when we meet at events. I find this really, really cool.

This didn’t happen by accident, or as a solo act. I wouldn’t be able to do what I do without help, as I am the queen of too-many-ideas-and-not-enough-time. Two people in particular wandered in when I really needed their help.

When SFD moved to Red Bridge in 2008, we decided to expand SFD to include student’s horses. Previously, I only took care of horses in training with me. When Doug and I made the decision to expand, I was worried about two things – was I organized enough to keep everyone informed and the paperwork together, and do I have the personality to keep the barn functioning as a group?

Cheryle has been my solution to the first question. When she came on as a boarder, she filled out her paperwork with such attention to detail, I knew I was in the presence of a much more organized mind than my own. Offering her the position of “office hero” was a no-brainer. Her constantly cheerful tone and much-better organization skills have gone a long way to keeping everyone informed of going-ons at the barn. Plus she happily keeps our records organized, a skill I, frankly, don’t want to take the time to get good at. She says she enjoys bookkeeping. That just doesn’t seem normal to me…

The second solution came a few months later, in Linda. One big concern I had when I started allowing student-boarders is clicks. To some degree, as a group gets larger, clumping-by-friendships is unavoidable, but I really didn’t want to have SFD divided along the “those who show” and “those who don’t.” Linda’s camera skills help draw the non-competing members into the show stories, and her party-organizing skills really help us gel as barn.

Additionally, Linda came to dressage as an adult, so she understands the emotional ups-and-downs of the adult beginner, and is down right empathic about helping others through the emotional ropes of learning to ride, and then to show. Her tact and well-timed kind words offset my rather sarcastic communication style. Plus she can organize all of the details of a show weekend, down to dinner reservations.

So here’s a big thank-you to you two. I would be lost without you.

BLM Finals, 2011

2011-10-24T04:47:00.000-07:00

On October 12, we loaded up Secret, Flash, Basil and James, along with their accompanying humans, and headed to the Garden State Classic/BLM Finals at NJ Horse Park. Secret and I were slated for the 3^rd level Championship, Flash was entered in training level to continue learning to show, and Basil was making his dressage debut.

Living here in Region 1, so close to the boarder of Region 8, we have our pick of championship shows to attend. It seems like every year, either BLM Finals or Region 1 gets rained on. For the past few years, I’ve luckily picked the dry show. Not this year.

This was Saturday, after the footing had a day to dry out.
The mud is still up to her coronet band.

After all of the careful planning, calculated training agendas, well-timed shoeing and massage appointments, etc., Secret’s score in the championship class was determined by Mother Nature. Thursday night the show grounds were flooded with rain, leaving the competition rings a slurry of sandy mud.

Secret hates mud. Mud makes her tense. Tension makes her over-reactive. She hates mud on her tummy. So she goes faster. She hates mud on her nose. So she holds her neck high and tight, like the knight in a game of chess.

Again from Saturday. Chess piece neck, but still a
recognizable half-pass, even from the side.

Needless to say, being ran away with by an over-reactive chess piece isn’t exactly the dressage ideal, so her championship ride didn’t work out like we had hoped. The judges comments were kind, and the scores were appropriate.

The neat thing is Secret had one of her championship judges again the next day in her two open classes. As the footing dried out, Secret’s relaxation improved, and so did her scores. Having the same judge 3 rides in a row, with each ride being very, very different, and seeing that reflected in the scores tells me that the judge judged what she saw each ride. As a competitor, I can’t ask for anything more.

By Sunday, Mother Nature had returned Secret’s sunshiny personality, and her score was back up where it has been all season. With the exception of the championship class, Secret placed well against the warmbloods, bringing home a fifth and two thirds.

Check it out - completely airborn.

Flash, on the other hand, seems to be a mudder. Her reaction to the mud on her tummy was to bounce higher. Linda caught an awesome photo of Flash with all four feet off of the ground. Her bouncing brought home the a red ribbon.

Unfortunately, Flash put so much into bouncing out of the mud that her back became more and more tired as the weekend progressed. Her back fatigue showed in her scores, which weren’t as high as the last show, but she was much more ridable in every class, which is no small feat for the turbo-pinto mare. She was also much more relaxed overall at this show—we could ride every class without needing a ring-side equine baby sitter. Flash has really learned how to show this season. I’ll focus on getting her back stronger over the winter, and we’ll see what next season brings.

It's a little out of focus, but what an amazing canter!

Basil didn’t compete until Saturday, and by then Friday’s blustery wind had dried the footing considerably. He is a super young man, with a laid-back workman-like personality and a body built for dressage. He handled all of the show chaos like a seasoned veteran, and was obedient and willing in both tests. He scored mid 60’s in both classes, tying for second on Saturday and bringing home blue on Sunday. Rebecca and Dennis bred Basil as a family project. The pride in their eyes at watching their baby grow up was really fun to be a part of.

SFD students have also been rocking the show ring recently. Rebecca and James ended a strong first season with a good BLM show, Kristen and Clyde brought home red from the Thorncroft event, Alexa and Mi Alma had a great ride at Devon and were FCDA intro level and thoroughbred champions, Jess and Mo brought home ribbons from FCDA, and I’ve heard rumors that Paige aboard Maggie and Ericka aboard Stella have been cleaning up over fences. Plus I can’t forget Bethany and Willy who have been tearing it up at the medieval mounted games events. Dressage cross trains into other disciplines so well, but more of that in a later blog. I have asked several students to write a few paragraphs; I’m sure we’ll hear from them soon.

Coming Soon

2011-10-12T19:59:00.001-07:00

Dear Blog,

I am sorry. I have been neglecting you. Between boxing up the house, moving the house, un-boxing the house, competing and attending Dressage at Devon, a wonderful weekend visit from my closest friend, and BLM finals this weekend, I just haven't given you the time you deserve. But as the old Willy Nelson song goes, "you were always on my mind." So brace yourself, soon, very soon, all of the ideas bouncing around in my head will flesh-out the outlines saved on my phone. I promise, your time of neglect will end very soon.

Respectfully,
Your over-scheduled Blog-Writer.

My Thoughts on Showing

2011-09-05T18:45:00.000-07:00

I show a lot, in everything from little schooling shows to breed-specific shows to regional championships. Between shows, I wear the hats of trainer, instructor, coach, and L graduate. My students range from their first show to seasoned FEI riders. This gives me a rather wide-ranging perspective, and from this perspective, I wish I could say a few things to competitors. Since this is my blog, heck, I think I will.

This is supposed to be fun. Keep that in mind as you plan your show season and prepare for each show. What is fun for you? Is it blue ribbons? Then be sure you are confirmed at the level you are competing, and don’t enter your well-loved heart-of-gold quarter horse in an Olympic qualifying show.

First, the level you choose to enter. Most riders loose 30-40% of their polish when they step into the show ring. If you want that blue more than you want oxygen, then you need to be blue-ribbon worthy on an average day, not only on your “best-ride-ever” day. Chances are, show stress isn’t going to bring out you or your horse’s best, especially if you are worried about the trot lengthening. So set yourself up by going down the centerline knowing that you and your horse are not just competent at the level, you are dang good at it.

Second, the shows you choose to enter. If blue is the goal, stick to smaller, non-national-team qualifying shows. Even if you aren’t competing FEI yet, the Olympic contenders show up with their whole barn, which means the 2016 hopeful may be in your class. Just watching those amazing animals in warm up is pretty intimidating. But if “fun” for you is putting Mr. Heart-of-Gold against the big boys to see how he compares, by all means, go for it. Frankly, that is how I define fun, so I do it all the time. Doing this, I rarely bring home the blue, but I know how my horse stacks against the big boys. And once in a while we steal the blue. That, for me, is fun.

Showing is 50% preparation and 50% luck. We can only control so many things in this sport. We can’t control the weather, the order of the class, the arena we are assigned, or the naughty neighbor dog who comes tearing alongside your class proudly carrying the awards-table table cloth in his mouth.

One thing you can control is how well you know your test. Memorize your test until you can recite it in your sleep. Memorize not only the pattern, but how you will ride that pattern. Ride the separate parts of your test, then the whole test, then the parts again, until your mind and body have it cold. If your horse learns the pattern, all the better--if he is in the habit of heading deep into the corners or beginning a circle at B, you can add impulsion and balance while he's doing the steering.

If you have a lot of tests to learn, or fight with show nerves, memorize your test inside-out, then use a reader. In our barn, we have policy of whomever goes off course has to buy the entire show group ice cream. This year, with all of the new tests, I, unfortunately, have picked up the ice cream tab more times than I care to admit. My excuse is I am in the ring from training to PSG this year, but in reality, I just need to make myself take more time memorizing tests. It is something I can control.

Appreciate your support system. Showing is important to you, or you wouldn’t give up your time and your money. Your family has to pick up your weekend laundry duty, and your show friends have to deal with your neurotic pre-show habits. These things are an inevitable part of showing, so be nice to them. Greet them with “good morning.” Say “thank you.” Smile. Buy them a beer or an ice cream. You need these people to make your dreams come true, so appreciate them, even if the judge didn’t appreciate your ride.

You don’t have to compete to excel in dressage. I know this is an odd thing to say in a blog about competing, but it is true. Competing is a completely different skill set than riding, or taking a lesson. I have a student who showed a few times, and then quit showing. She still takes lessons and clinics, and really loves her horses. Her opinion on showing – why would she spend all of that money, get all stressed out in an expensive outfit, to get a stranger’s opinion that she may or may not agree with. For her, that doesn’t increase her enjoyment of her horse. So she doesn’t do it. Which brings us to my next point.

The judge isn’t always correct. Yes, I said it, in print. Lightning has not struck me dead yet. Frankly, competitors, expecting a judge to be correct in every decision, every ride, really isn’t fair. These judges are making 12-40 decisions every 6-8 minutes. That kind of concentration is really, really hard. When I sit in the judge’s booth for a day, I am TIRED. I, and every judge I have talked to, scribed for, or sat in a judge’s training session with, tries their best to give each competitor a fair, constructive report on the ride they watched. And sometimes they make mistakes. Sometimes the mistakes are in the competitor’s favor, and sometimes they aren’t. I probably see as many Christmas gifts on score sheets as I see Scrooges.

That being said, there are times when judges do overstep their boundaries. Judges only have the right to comment on what they can see. Judges who make blanket statements about the horse, in my opinion, overstep their boundaries. I understand that the personality type attracted to judging is, by definition, judgmental, but to write on score sheet that a particular horse is “limited by genetics” (yep, I really did get that on a score sheet) is inappropriate. Especially when I, and pretty much every other judge, has disagreed. Thankfully, the horse’s owner and I both follow my next advice.

Don’t let anyone change your opinion of your horse. This is your horse, and I’m guessing you really love him. You probably love the way his nose feels, the way he makes funny faces when you groom the right spots, the way he nickers when he knows you have carrots. Don’t let some stranger who sits in a box change that. You can be disappointed in your performance together, but don’t let that change how you feel about him. Your horse didn’t choose to come to a horse show. He’d probably prefer 5 lush grassy acres to a nervous rider obsessing over a transition at a scary flower-topped letter box. He does it because you ask. That alone is worthy of affection.

Happy Birthday to Me

2011-08-22T04:51:00.000-07:00

The third week of July was a mess – Silly needed to be confirmed in foal, and I needed to do a few things, namely, finalize the lease on the additional pasture land, move a new boarder in, pick up a new-to-us barn fridge, take Secret and Venus down for lessons with Scott on Wednesday, and, the biggie, I had to find a truck to replace Big Blue before I lost my rental truck on Friday, July 22. My birthday. Great. Everyone asked what I was doing for my birthday, and my reply was the same—wipe out my “to-do” list. I figured if I survived the week, turning 40 wasn’t an issue at all.

Monday I called several car dealerships, to try to narrow my list. Tuesday, after I moved the new horse in, I test drove several trucks (and scared one salesman by describing the repairs the truck needed…yea, I know I am female, but I know what failing ball joints sound like, and failing struts. No, you don’t need to talk to my husband). Every time I got in a truck, I wondered, “Will I feel comfortable pulling the horses in this truck?” A few of the trucks had features I liked, but none were really ideal. I called my mechanic uncle, and he managed to systematically rule out just about every truck on my list. Meanwhile, the clock was ticking.

Wednesday, I interrupted truck shopping for my monthly trip to Hassler Dressage. Linda, Kelsey and I loaded up Venus and Secret. I had several questions about Secret’s training path, and was eager for his eyes on Venus’ progress. Both mares feel significantly more balanced and Venus has been more willing, but working on my own, I wanted to make sure they looked as good as they felt.

The answer, for both mares, was “yes.” Scott was very complimentary of the improvements in both horses, and gave me tons of homework for Secret in particular. Up until now, Secret has followed Eclipse’s training path with stunning accuracy. But now her path diverges, and with his help, her next few month’s training plan is now mapped out.

By Thursday I had given up on finding what I wanted, and was trying to decide what I could settle for. Then Doug found my truck on the internet. It was exactly what I was looking for. Just before I left for the dealership to test drive the truck, Leslie, from Trevelyan Farm, texted with the happy news that Silly is expecting. I headed out to see the truck, and yep, it was exactly what I was looking for. I negotiate the price, and arranged to get the rental returned and the new truck picked up on Friday.

Then Doug and I went to dinner. I let our favorite bartender pick my traditional birthday beverage, a tasty Belgium beer, and a friendly couple picked up my last beer. The musician started playing a Jimmy Buffett cover, and I was feeling quite fulfilled.

I don’t expect people to make a fuss over my birthday, so I really didn’t notice when no one did. When Berks County Pony Clubbers asked for lessons late on the following Friday evening at Vue de Lue barn, which incidentally isn’t where I normally teach them, I honestly wasn’t suspicious at all. I started to wonder a little when Wendy said there were 8 or 9 students at 8 pm on a Friday, and when I was told not to eat since there would be food at the Pony Club meeting, but I still arrived in full teacher mode.

I finally caught on when everyone came out of the barn yelling “SURPRISE.”

Yea, I can be kinda slow……

The party had a circus theme. The Derrs had gone all out decorated their barn, and Doug had photoshopped my face into circus posters. Dawn, Alexa’s mom, put together a scrap book with photos of students with their horses all circus-ed up. I now knew why Kelsey’s horse, Buzz, had huge yellow stains on him for a week (he was tye-dyed in the photo), and why I wasn’t supposed to ask about the sparkly garland on Cheryle’s helmet or knotted glitzy stuff into Karison’s forelock. Seems strange is kinda normal around our barn…

I wish my legs were that long!!

The sheer amount of time and creativity offered by everyone completely blew me away.

Thank you all very much, for the most amazing, memorable party I have had since Mom dropped my birthday cake in Jr high. I’m not sure when, but sometime in the last 10 years, Pennsylvania has become home, in large part because of my amazing family of students. You guys rock my world.

What have you been up to? Well….

2011-07-17T08:01:00.000-07:00

I admit my life gets pretty crazy, especially this time of year. This year is particularly crazy. Of course, everyone knows about our move. But underneath that headline news, my mare, Silly, decided to go lame, and then Big Blue Truck was smashed by a rouge Honda. Meanwhile, the normal business of the show season has been rolling along.

So, put the events in order, a couple of weeks before our move, Silly went lame. Silly, officially known as Anisette, is my big, wonderful black Hanoverian mare that I bought a couple of years ago. I have known Silly since she was 4, and loved her since I met her. I don’t mention her much in the blog, because “Silly is working great, trying hard and making steady progress” is kind of boring reading. Around the barn, she is known as “the good girl.” She is smart, talented and tries too hard. I’ve always said she would go broken, and apparently I was right.

In May, my good girl started feeling a little funky. She went from funky to oh-my-goodness-she-is-lame so quickly that I thought she was going to abscess in her right front foot. We soaked, but nothing blew. Dr. Crowley did a nerve block, a very-localized anesthetic that numbs specific regions to help find out where exactly the pain is, and pain went away when we numbed the toe/coffin joint region, so she suggested an ultrasound.

While Secret was scaring the warmbloods and Sling was sorting out his show nerves at the Memorial Day show in NJ, Dr. Lewis performed an ultrasound on her right front pastern. Her soft tissue looked great. So Dr. C came back out, and we x-rayed, and nothing of significance showed up. So we blocked again, this time specifically numbing the coffin joint, and Silly jogged off sound.

Then, while Secret was giving a career-best 3^rd level performance and Sling was struggling with his balance from a recent growth spurt and trying to convince me he needed to stop every time he needed to poo ("no, Sling-a-ling, you can't stop in the middle of a dressage test, the judges don't like that") at Ride For Life, Dr. C injected the coffin joint. I came home with high hopes of bringing my super-fun girl back to work as soon as we returned. No such luck. Injecting the coffin joint made no difference at all, so Dr. C recommended an MRI of that foot.

We scheduled it for the following Friday, as Wednesday I was scheduled to don my tail coat for Eclipse’s Prix St. Georges debut at Suddenly Farm. He did a respectable job for blue, despite my major “oops” – I memorized the old PSG test, not the new 2009 version.

The following Monday, I received the results of the MRI, and bingo, we found the problem. In the sagittal plane of her right front foot, the MRI showed a subchondral bone defect in the distal phalanx. In layman’s terms, in the center of her coffin joint, well away from the edges that show in an x-ray, she has a bump where there should be a smooth surface. Most likely, this bump has been there since birth, and being the good girl that she is, she as figured out how to get the job done despite the discomfort. But over time, the bump has smashed into the bone below it, and it has done its damage.

B y now it was late June, so I made a few frantic calls to Dr. Crowley to be sure that this sort of issue wasn’t hereditary, followed by another frantic call to Leslie Feakins out at Trevelyan Farm to manage the breeding, and Hilltop Farm to secure my stallion choice (Bugatti), and sent Silly off to see about making her a mommy. Our timing was good—she arrived at Trevelyan with a follicle about ready to breed, and proceeded to produce not one, but two more follicles (did I mention that she is an overachiever?). Hopefully one of them will combine with Bugatti’s offering. Next Thursday we will find out if she is indeed pregnant.

But the fun didn’t stop there.

A week after I took Silly out to Trevalyn, I was driving down 113, minding my own business, when a red Honda CRV decided it needed to cross the road at that exact moment. Honda vs F250? The truck won the battle, breaking the CRV’s axle and protecting me in the same moment.

Between Enterprise Commercial Truck Rental and the insurance companies, I managed to rent a proper pulling vehicle to get Secret, Paradoks, Linda, Aneesa and I to the AHA Region 15 Championships that Friday. The show was tons of fun, and Ted worked his magic -- Aneesa and Paradoks brought home a Top 5 at training level, and Secret earned the title of 3^rd level champion.

Although the battle went to Big Blue, the war went to the insurance company. Last Friday they totaled her out and left me frantically truck shopping, as the insurance company will only pay for the rental for another week. Hopefully, I will find Big Blue’s replacement in time for the Gunnar Ostergaard clinic next weekend. If not, we have back-up plans to get Secret and Sling to the festivities.

So, in short, expect a naming-party for the new truck, and a clinic report in the near future. Assuming things don’t go any more crazy than they already are….

And Now, a Word About our Sponsors

2011-07-17T06:05:00.000-07:00

In late 2009, when I sat down to work out plans for 2010, one item on the list was to try to sort out this whole “sponsorship” thing. Then, as followers of the blog know, thanks to the passing of my landlord in late December 2009, 2010 was a flurry of relocation stress, that concluded with our recent move to our new home. But somehow, even with this chaos going on, I managed to find two really super sponsors.

As I was wrapping my head around what being sponsored meant, I couldn’t help but think about the sponsor/athlete relationship. I wanted sponsors that I would be really proud to ride for. Sponsors whose products and services were as high-quality and well-thought-out as the care and training I give my horses. In short I wanted sponsors I believe in.

Which lead me to my two sponsors. I am really proud to represent both Custom Saddlery and Zephyr’s Garden products.

Custom Saddlery

Custom Saddlery became my sponsor in late 2010. I will freely admit I feel like I've hit the big time when I see my name on their rather-prestigious list of "Custom Saddlery Sponsored Riders."

I have been working with Fred That, VP of Custom Saddlery, for a while now. Whenever I have a student ready to purchase a saddle, I try very hard to be as cost-conscious as possible. We scour the internet and the tack stores, looking for something that both horse and rider can live with, until we are totally frustrated. Then we call Fred, there, tucked in the depths of his trailer, lies the perfect saddle. With only one exception, Fred has been able to make every horse’s back happy and the rider balanced. Which, in my barn, with everything from 13.2 ponies to 18.1 warmbloods, is pretty impressive.

Even more impressive is how Fred approached the one horse, Eclipse, who put his nose up at Custom Saddles. Eclipse likes this old, beat-up, patched, too-big-for-me brown Albion HR. Fred has put my antique piece of tack back together twice now. Last month, when he had it in to restitch the underside and patch the newest hole, he took a good look at how the underside was built to figure out why Eclipse goes so well in that old saddle, and he figured it out – in Eclipse’s case, it has to do with how the billets attach to the tree. I suspect Eclipse’s billet preferences will show up in a future Custom Saddlery model.

Taking the time to figure out “why” showed Fred’s dedication to excellence and his problem-solving mind that will find the solution, even if it means thinking outside of the box. That kind of thinking shows in all of the Custom Saddle designs, and makes me feel honored to hang their banner at our tack stall.

Zephyr's Garden

I really didn’t pick Zephyr’s Garden to approach for a sponsorship, Venus did. Which is only fitting, since Zephyr’s Garden is named after the horse, Zephyr, who is lovingly plastered all over their advertising.

Venus, my red mare, has her opinions about everything. She is sweet, wonderful, hardheaded, talented, temperamental, affectionate, and opinionated- - in short, a chestnut mare. I have worked with her naturally-distrustful nature since she was a baby, and have almost made her into a “normal” horse. She will stand politely in crossties, self load in a trailer, and even go into a strange wash rack with minimal delays. But we never have conquered fly spray.

I spent weeks desensitizing her to a spray bottle filled with water, but the minute I switched it to actual flyspray, she began to dance, tremble, then exit. I concluded that it must be some chemical in the fly spray. I tried several brands, and the only one she would stand for was a super-watered-down herbal mix that seemed to attract flies, not repel them. So she turns out wrapped in every available fly barrier garment, but hacking out in the summer is just no fun.

A friend suggested I try Zephyr’s Garden. She went as far as contacting the company to get a free trial for me. As I’m sure you can figure out, Venus will tolerate it. As of now, we wipe it on instead of spray, but I see a future day where she is letting me spray her like a normal horse. I switched all of my horses to it--I really like that Amy and I are not inhaling all of those chemicals every time we try to give them some fly relief.

Then Linda saw the bottle floating around the barn, and started in investigate other Zephyr’s Garden products. Secret gives Linda and I fits every year with her itchy reaction to every fly that touches her. She rubs her tail to frazzled baldness every summer. Linda has tried just about every product on the market, and when she saw that Zephyr’s Garden has anti-itch products, she couldn’t get her order in fast enough. Secret also approves of Zephyr’s products, and proudly sported a smooth tail in her victory gallop at the Region 15 Championship last weekend. In short, this stuff works.

Thank you, Custom Saddlery and Zephyr’s Garden. Your products are truly excellent.

Dead Birds and Horse Show Superstitions

2011-06-28T03:54:00.000-07:00

Every athlete, no matter what sport, has some superstition or ritual they hold dear. For years I wouldn’t compete unless I was wearing Mickey Mouse socks. The socks developed holes and my horses continued to do well, so I haven’t felt a need to replace them lately. Besides, Linda, Secret’s mom, has it covered.

It all started at the Region 8 show in Saugerties, NY last September. When Linda was setting up Secret’s stall, she found a dead bird. Secret did super that weekend, the little Frie-Rab holding her own among some tough warmblood competition.

At Morven Park this May, Secret was not herself. She was hormonal, crampy, tense, grumpy, and really wanted to stay in her stall with a heating pad and a box of chocolate. Our performances in the ring were further hampered by some biased judging--the judge actually wrote on the score sheet “limited by genetics.” I tend to agree with the judge, but the gene I blamed was the x-chromosome, not the bloodlines. And there was no dead bird.

Last month, we went to New Jersey for the Memorial Day show, and as Linda was cleaning Secret’s stall, she unearthed a dead bird. Secret proceeded to do awesome, placing high in really tough classes against some really fancy horses.

Then, on Friday, as we were loading for Ride for Life, Linda found a dead bird in the hay loft. And yes, you guessed it, Secret rocked our world. She danced her way through all of her tests, earning a career 3^rd level high score of 65% for a red ribbon.

I was beginning to worry that we would have to start sacrificing birds before each show, when thankfully Rebecca came to the rescue. One of the vendors at the show was selling dog toys, and one looked amazing like a dead bird. Linda bought it, and then hung it from baling twine next to our ribbons. Yea, our barn has a weird sense of humor….

Another weird quirk in our barn is naming things. We name everything. My rolling tool box that holds my grooming and show equipment is Max, the chest that lives in the trailer with the “life ends if we forget this” stuff in it (extra standing wraps/girth/reins, light bulbs, and the ever-important roll of toilet paper, etc.) is called Stanley, and the big box that holds the tack stall set-up equipment is Corry. The bird needed a name. So Cara dubbed the bird Ted.

Ted, bring us luck in two weeks at Region 15.

PVDA Ride For Life

2011-06-24T02:53:00.000-07:00

When I was putting this year’s show calendar together, I saw PVDA’s Ride for Life, a show that benefits breast cancer research. Someone along the way, my grandmother I think, equipped me with a sense of social responsibility. I get to play with the ponies all day, so I kinda feel like I cheat on it a bit. This show was perfect--it met my need to feel socially responsible while I played with the ponies. Plus, most of us have been touched by breast cancer in some way.

My touch came through Sue Steele, my first “real” dressage instructor. When I decided I wanted to learn real dressage, not just dressage-to-get-to-the-cross-country-course, I tried the instructors in my area. In the not-so-ripe dressage Mecca of central Illinois, that gave me few choices. When I tried Sue, her approach to my education was so markedly different than the others that I stuck with her.

Sue was exactly what I needed. She was straight forward with her instruction, patient with all of my questions, and understood that, although I had ridden and competed since a young age, I was new to dressage. I needed time to develop some things, but could be pushed in others. Her direct, clear instruction brought me from learning the bending aids to competing 2^nd level in two short years. When I had the opportunity, she encouraged me to take my first working student position where I could continue to grow as a rider.

Sue wasn’t warm and fuzzy. A mutual friend described her as crusty, but as cliche as it sounds, under that crust was a heart of gold. Her Midwestern directness allowed few complements, so when she labeled me her “star student” shortly before I left Illinois, I was surprised and flattered. Her belief in me was a source of strength during the fatigue and insecurity of my working student years.

Shortly after I moved to South Carolina, Sue was diagnosed with breast cancer. She underwent the usual treatment. It went into recession for a while, and then returned. This time the cancer won. Sue faced her disease with the same direct, straight forward approach she took to dressage and to life.

I think of Sue whenever I fix my rebellious right leg or use one of her exercises in a lesson. She shaped me into the instructor and trainer I am today.

This weekend, at Ride for Life, I ride in memory of Sue Steele, my first dressage instructor and my friend. You are not forgotten.

Dressage Kids Round Three

2011-06-17T03:49:00.000-07:00

Of the many things that kept me hopping this winter, the kids were the most fun. I love teaching kids dressage. I have taught many young dressage riders in my career, and they seem to come in waves. My first group of kids are now grownups (which makes me feel really old….), and my second round are now all either in college or recent graduates. I was beginning to think my clientele had changed, but then Wendy, who owns Slingshot and Glory Springs, where I teach several times a month, asked me to teach her daughter, Paige. One thing led to another, and now we have a third round of dressage kids.

Alexa on Maggie

Since I'm dang proud of my kids, I thought they deserved a blog. Plus their parents sent me some great photos.

I think adults sell kids short when it comes to dressage. If a kid can take up the violin at 5, or ballet at 4, then they can learn dressage--real dressage, not flatwork in circles, but real, through-the-back-and-to-the-bit dressage.

In several ways, they are easier to teach than adults. Kids have the luxury of complete focus—they don’t have to worry about what to make for dinner, or how to get everyone to soccer practice. They haven't lived long enough to pick up the baggage and self-esteem issues that cloud most adult riders. They can just focus on their riding.

And boy are kids focused. They want to ride better, and they want to ride better now. If I tell a kid to spend 10 minutes every ride working on walk-trot transitions, or working without stirrups, because it will make their riding better, they do it. If I tell them to do sit ups and stretches off the horse, they do it. And they get better because of it.

Now I don’t want to give the impression that I short the kids on the technical stuff. They get the same dressage theory crammed into their lessons as the adults. Paige, age 11, and Alexa, age 16, can both tell you the purpose of intro and training levels. Paige and Jessica, age 11, can tell you the first three steps of the training scale, and if I ask them to describe what they feel in their ponies in terms of the training scale, they can. Heck, Alexa can give you all 6 steps, and tell you the purpose of first level. She could even describe the aids for a correct back-to-front half-halt and for shoulder in.

Alexa, Paige and Maggie

For a moment, please indulge my slightly-off-topic soap-box. Adults’ favorite excuse for being outridden by the kids is fear. They claim kids are braver than they are. Not so. Every young person I have ever helped has been afraid. Heck, most of the kids came to me because they were afraid of jumping, and I was one of the few instructors that wouldn't pressure them to go over fences. Kids often outride adults because they are more determined. They are willing to do the hard, hard work required to master this sport. They’ll do the no-stirrup work, they will trust my eye over their feel, and they will let the process of dressage training sculpt them into dressage riders. The only fear I see more often in adults than kids is fear of failure.

Lest you think I prefer teaching kids, adult students have their benefits too. Adults are more willing to indulge my dressage-geek long-winded bio-mechanical explanations. Plus it's socially unacceptable to share an after-lesson beer with an 11-year-old.

Alexa and Hakuna Matata, her new horse

Back to the kids – Alexa, Jessica and Paige, through the dedication and carpooling of their parents, spent quite a bit of time at SFD this winter. Alexa’s new horse is a 3-year-old (I know, kids should have older horses, but this isn't a normal 3-year-old, and Alexa isn't a normal kid), so she divided her time between several of the trained horses in the barn.

She went into the winter with a blue from Dressage Seat Equitation already under her belt, so she looked pretty on a horse. This winter we made her effective. She learned to use her half halt to make a horse more uphill and increase the thoroughness, swing, and suspension. She also learned to ride leg yield, shoulder in and counter canter. Her new boy has benefited from her time on my schoolies, rewarding her with high-score intro at his first two shows. She also shared Maggie, Paige’s pony, for Pony Club Dressage Rally, where she earned high scoring C-level rider with a 70%.

Paige and Maggie

Paige’s pony, Maggie came down to SFD for a couple of months this winter. Last year, Paige competed Sweet Lilly, her oh-so-reliable pony, to OVCTA Intro Champion. Over the winter, we cemented Paige’s move up to the more-dramatic-moving Maggie. When they arrived, Paige wouldn’t mount Maggie unless I was in the ring, performed a rather fluid emergency dismount at the first sign of trouble, and cantered only when I begged. Before they went home, I would come to the arena for their lesson to find Paige warming Maggie up in all three gaits. This winter, she learned to trust Maggie by learning to channel that fancy, powerful hind leg. At this year's Pony Club Dressage Rally, the pair earned a 70% , for high-scoring D-level rider.

Jessica and Mohican

Jessica and her mom spent the fall looking for a large pony for her to move up to, and after looking at countless ponies, decided that they had the perfect pony in their own back yard. Cara and I spent April and May teaching Jessica and Mohican to slow and steady his tempo, rebalance from a lighter half halt, and to canter like a big boy. Since Jessica’s plans involve eventing, we even got to take Moe out for some gallops and school him over fences. That pony doesn’t say quit. Jessica went to Dressage Rally with Paige, and scored a 63.5 for a red ribbon, with their team bringing home second place overall.

Jessica and Moe

Alexa and Paige have a summer of local dressage shows, including Dressage4Kids in July, and possibly a few Dressage Seat Equitation classes thrown in. I suspect Jessica and Moe will join them for some dressage shows this summer, but right now they are gearing up for Jump Rally and Event Rally in June.

Congratulations and more good luck ladies, go show ‘em how it’s done.

Gotta love that enthusiasm!

Kristen's ride at Thorncroft Handicapped Rider's Event

2011-06-15T06:16:00.000-07:00

Before Doug and I opened SFD, I spent two years as stable manager and instructor at Hope Springs Equestrian Therapy. Since my background is able-bodied riding, not physical therapy, I taught students with mental handicaps and mild physical disabilities. At Hope Springs, I learned as much as I taught - about caring for older horses, about breaking riding techniques into steps for every learning and physical ability, about the dedicated parents of kids with disabilities, and the courage of the kids themselves.

When I went from freelance dressage instructor to renting a farm six years ago, I had to make the difficult decision to let Hope Springs go. A few of my Hope Springs students weren't happy with my decision. Kristen Chelmow was one of those students. Since we first met, Kristen has finished high school, graduated college, and is now is working on her masters degree. She is also a regular competitor at OVCTA schooling shows. Watching her grow as a rider and as a person is one of the joys of my job. Below is her story of competing in this year's Handicapped Rider's Event at Thorncroft.

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On May 28, 2011, I had the opportunity to represent Straight Forward Dressage at Thorncroft, the Handicapped Riders Division of the Devon Horseshow, located in Malvern, PA. Victoria Franzen coached me as I rode her horse, Clyde, A.K.A. Silver Lining, in the advanced rider dressage test and equitation class. I had an amazing team rooting me on that included Joyce Faccenda, Jennifer Olson Bryant, who trailered us over there, her mom, and my mom. I only had one goal at this show: to have fun. I accomplished this due to Victoria’s wonderful coaching which helped calm my nerves and the fantastic staff at Thorncroft who encouraged me to smile my way through the dressage test.

The dressage portion of the competition required me to ride Intro Test B. I enjoyed watching the other riders warm up, and I appreciated their enthusiasm and support as we each prepared to enter the show ring. At the end of the test, everyone said that I seemed to enjoy myself. Even though I thought that I had concentrated too hard to smile, the pictures don’t lie.

With dressage completed, I could now turn my full attention to the equitation class.

Prior to the competition, Thorncroft organizers informed riders in the advanced classes about the possibility of including a Figure 8 in the equitation class. In several lessons prior to the competition, Ange Bean worked with me to perfect the Figure 8 pattern. I practiced and stressed about it, and of course, as it turns out, they never asked us to do one. The caller asked the riders to trot, walk, circle, and change direction. I received third place in Intro Test B and equitation, and consider it an honor to have competed with four fantastic riders including Special Olympians, Kate Burns and Leslie Hartman, Lauren Woodburn representing Freedom Hills and Kelly Rubin of Thorncroft. Thank you so much to everyone at Straight Forward Dressage for your support and expertise. I look forward to smiling my way through future competitions.

Photos of Moving Day

2011-06-07T15:11:00.000-07:00

Special thanks goes to Linda and her new camera. She's getting really good with it.

Sling obviously had a hard time adjusting to the new place :-).

Silly checking out the new place

The current tenant of Hickory Springs farm, Taco, doesn't seem at all upset by our moving in.

"Carrot-Lady-Liz, this doesn't look like a horse show."

If Amazing -Super-Working-Student Kelsey had more hands, she'd probably try to do even more than she already does....

Yep, I really got to ride on Sunday. Amazing.

A HUGE thank you to everyone who pitched in to make this move go so smoothly. I owe you all big time. I can't say thanks enough.

SFD has a New Home

2011-06-06T05:27:00.001-07:00

First, my apologies for the silent blog – I can’t believe I let two and a half months go by between posts. I have lots of ideas floating around in my head, but I just haven’t been able to sit down and write. Kelsey, the Amazing Super Working Student (yea, that is her official job title, especially after this weekend) is back, so I will be able to find the time to blog more consistently.

The big, time-absorbing event– we moved!!! I’m very excited about our new place. We have 23 stalls, indoor and outdoor arenas, and –drum roll please – 24 acres of pasture divided into everything from tiny paddocks to a big, 8 acre field. This is the best turnout I’ve had in Pennsylvania. I can offer horses whatever they need – whether they need a small, don’t-run-and-hurt-yourself postage-stamp sized paddocks, or a rolling hill to stroll up-and-down and strengthen their stifles. I can customize my turnout as much as I already customize the grain and the stall choice.

Our new location is at 9 Lyon’s Run Road, Glenmoore, PA – less than a mile from Journey’s End (we seriously considered hacking the horses over, but one section of road lacks a shoulder, so we decided to travel in trailers). Banbury Cross has been there for a number of years, and when they relocated to Journey’s End, I jumped on the chance to grab the facility.

This move, compared to the move from Red Bridge, was rather uneventful. Tylene only showed up for a few brief moments (and again, my apologies to anyone who happened to be around during those moments. I really shouldn’t let hoses get me that angry….). Cheryle actually gets a lot of credit for keeping Tylene at bay. She asked everyone to direct questions her way, instead of to already-overloaded Ange. This let me focus on what I needed to focus on – getting horse management set up and horses settled.

Before I begin describing the move, a huge thank-you to everyone who helped– you are special people to brave helping me with this move coming so soon after the last one. You guys rock.

After Cara and I finished the training on Friday, Kelsey, Cara, Amy, Shelly, Cheryle, and I moved the bulk of the training equipment, medical equipment, extra blanket storage, fans and feed room, and set up the stalls. Saturday, Cara and I moved the horses in the morning while Kelsey, Amy, and Joyce cleaned out our stalls at Journey’s End. In the afternoon, while students were moving their trunks and equipment, Cara, Linda, Kelsey and I brought over the wheel barrows, tools, water tubs, and all of the other things that couldn’t leave Journey’s End until the horses did. Kelsey and I spent Sunday putting things away and creating systems to keep everyone’s stuff organized. And--brace yourself—Sunday I actually rode my horse. This contrasts sharply to the 5-day riding dry-spell I had when moving to Journey’s End. Riding is Prozac for me, so once I got on Venus, the manic voices in my head settled, and I started to be able to see clear pathways through the workload.

We have a lot of work to do to get the place up to where I want it, but the basic framework is in place. The wash rack in the indoor arena has some flooding issues, the fences need to be Karison-proofed, and I need to buy a fun motorized toy to make mucking, watering, and moving hay easier. And the whole place could benefit from a paintbrush, but with so many offers of help from students, I think a pizza/beer/painting party may be in the future.

The horses have already settled. By Saturday night, only our hot-potatoes were unsettled. By Sunday, they all acted like they have been there for years.

Linda was popping photos like a paparazzi, so hopefully I’ll have a photo-blog soon.

Happy riding,
Ange

OVCTA's Test Clinic with Pamela Wooding

2011-03-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

Saturday I was the organizer for OVCTA’s 2011 Test Clinic with Pamela Wooding. This was the first time I ran this size of a project. I have run big events, but they were for my own students, an audience accustomed to my many shortfalls. This time the audience was OVCTA and DVCTA members. I’ve also helped on committees that organized events bigger than our test clinic, but this was the first time I flew solo.

I know, I really didn’t have to fly solo. I could have delegated more of this event, but I had overcommitted myself in February and early March, which means I wasn’t organized enough to divide the job into delegate-able parts. Plus I have a bad habit of working things out in my head as I go, and if I delegate something, I have to be clear enough in my directions to give my help confidence. Which makes delegating hard, especially first time I do something, because I really don’t know what I’m going to do until I do it.

I did pass along lunch/refreshments to Cheryle and Linda, and of course I had a lot of help on the day (by then I’d gotten organized enough to pass out jobs), but the rest of it was on me. I learned a lot putting this project together.

A little info on our day – Pamela Wooding, a very tactful R judge with gobs and gobs of experience, and also a competitor of everything from training to FEI, came down from NJ. We had live demo horses, and each rider had prepared a specific test. Pam evaluated each horse’s basics, then helped them with any problem areas they were having in the tests, then each rider rode a complete test that Pam judged out loud. We had horses of many different breeds, shapes and background, and presented tests from Intro to Fourth, USEA Novice A and B, and I-2. Pam answered questions as we went, and in our Q and A session before lunch. We had a booklet for just about everyone that had descriptions of the changes to the tests, directives of the levels, where the double coefficients are, and bios of the horses and riders.

What I learned putting this together:

1. This kind of education is EXPENSIVE. The total bill for the day was over $1200. The judge’s fee was the lion’s share of it, and given her experience, I think that is as it should be.

2. Pricing an event like this is really hard. Most people have no idea of the expenses of this kind of education, and therefore think the auditor fee should be minimal. The riders, who know that they are there for the auditors, also think that their fee should be minimal. I do understand that money is tight, and in this world where so much information (and misinformation) is free on the internet, it makes writing a check for education hard. But I managed to keep the fees less than the cost of entering a schooling show, and included lunch. For as much information as was presented, I thought it was cheap.

Plus, in events like this one, there’s always ways around the expense. On Thursday, someone I had never met called and said she wanted to come but the finances were getting in the way. I happily handed her the registration table Saturday morning in return for her day’s auditing.

3. Color printing from Staples makes education costs seem cheap. Only the front cover of the booklet was color, but when I went to send it to Staples online, the price came in at $352.80 for 30 copies. Wow. That is not what I had budgeted at all.

Of course, I found this out late Friday afternoon, when I had ran home to make Pam’s last changes to the booklet. My plan was to send it to Staples, then go back and ride two horses and braid one, then swing by Staples and pick the booklets up on my way home. But when I saw that price, I kinda panicked. My wonderful husband came to my rescue, and monitored the printer while 30 6-page, double-sided pages printed, then folded them for me. I would have been up until 3 am without his help.

4. Cutting corners is a BAD idea. I cut a corner by not making an application for the demo riders, and it was a corner I really shouldn’t have cut. I needed to have demo riders organized well before hand so Pam and I could work out the format, which meant I was looking for demo riders in my already-overloaded February. Because I didn’t make an application, my demo riders really didn’t understand what they were committing to. Once I realized my gaff, I apologized like mad, and probably over-communicated with them the last two weeks. It’s a testament to the rider’s character that they didn’t all revolt and refuse to ride. Thank you all of you. The day wouldn’t have been nearly as special without you and your horses.

5. Set-up creates unforeseen dramas. On Friday, Cara and I headed out to pick up the portable OVCTA arena, and I realized I had left my lights on. We jumped into Cara’s truck, and drove to Hunter Hill to get the arena, but alas, the arena now lives at Ludwig’s Hardware, which, of course, is 2 miles from the farm. When I hopped out of the truck to unload the arena, I ripped my jeans from the zipper to the tailbone. Great.

Then, Saturday morning Amy went to vacuum the lounge. The vacuum had died, so I suggested she use the shop vac. Dumb idea. The shop vac blew dust out the back side, and I mean a lot of dust – enough to set off the fire alarm. Rest assured, the fire department gets to Journey’s End FAST.

6. No matter how much you plan, on the day of the event, something will go wrong. My little PA system failed me miserably. If I put it too close to the wall, it fed back. I tracked down enough extension cord to get it away from the metal walls, and it would randomly feedback whenever anyone’s cell phone went off. Of course, feedback and horses never go well together, so we finally abandoned ship, and Pam ended the day hoarse projecting her voice. She did ok until the barn staff decided to drag the arena just outside of the indoor, but that was only temporary. But I couldn’t control that, which brings us to the next point.

7. I can’t control everything. I really wish I could have controlled the weather (don’t we all??). It was COLD. Just to add insult to injury, last weekend it was 70. I was completely impressed by the die-hards who huddled there until the bitter end. You guys are awesome, so completely committed to your educations. And you must have more long johns than most of us.

8. Trying to learn when I’m the organizer is pretty much impossible. I spent most of the day hopping up and down, answering questions, making sure everyone was where they needed to be, and doing random stuff. I was optimistic that I could squeeze some education time in as well, but it really didn’t happen. I got excellent, usable feedback when I was riding, but wasn’t able to sit still long enough to absorb much from the other rides.

9. A beer with my awesome volunteers to celebrate a successful day makes everything so much better. But then, I knew that already. Thanks so much for all of your help, you are the best.

Linda was all over the place with her camera, so I’ll get some photos up soon.

Early March lessons, part 2

2011-03-14T04:48:00.001-07:00

We went to the canter work first, and Barbara had me ride him just a little more forward, and his neck just a little longer, and check the balance with an occasional counter flexion, and he locked into a rolling, forward, effortless collection.

In the trot, after some tinkering with the balance, he found a nice, uphill swinging trot, but was setting that giant stallion neck right into my hands. Barbara liked how he looked, and when I glanced in the mirror I agreed with her, but I wasn’t happy with the heaviness. So she had me purposely lighten my hands whenever I half-halted, to which responded by shortening and stiffening his neck (his favorite mistake). So we tried doing the same in shoulder-in, and again we got a short, stiff neck. Then we tried it in a slight renvers. Bingo. The trot got rounder, with a softly swinging back.

The whole process of finding Eclipse’s best gaits was a bit like Venus’ canter corrections with Scott—get in, make the adjustment, then get out and ride the harmony—but with the adjustments toned down for Eclipse’s sensitivity.

Then we spent some time working the half passes. I had gotten in the habit of letting my weight fall to the outside in the half passes and pushing the horses over, instead of sitting with the bend and leading the motion. Once she got me sitting more correctly, his half passes became more fluid and correct.

For the last two weeks, I’ve been applying her insights to Eclipse’s training plan, and the quality of his gaits feels more fluid and forward. This Friday I let him do some of his tricks, and his tempi changes were straighter and more on my seat, without a hint of him taking over. In his trot lateral work, I can really feel the shoulder freedom. I can’t wait to get some fresh video of him.

Silhouette was last to go, with a ride in the OVCTA Jean Moyer clinic on Sunday. Jean Moyer has made a name for herself as an eventing coach. I signed up for the lesson because, a few weeks before the clinic, entries were looking pretty light. Plus the clinic was to be hosted at Firefly Farm, which is a five minute hack from Journey’s End. On Friday night, at the OVCTA Annual Meeting, Jean was our speaker, and discussed her annual educational trips to Germany, and bragged about her horse who is competing Prix St. George in Germany. I was starting to look forward to my lesson.

After I introduced myself to Jean, I discovered her German education includes time spent at
Herbert Rehbein’s barn. My most influential instructors all go back to Rehbein’s training program, so I knew instantly our training priorities would align. She immediately saw Silly’s weakness and her highlight. Silly’s weakness is her try-too-hard attitude, which means she can get tense and quick easily. When she’s a little nervous, like at the beginning of a clinic in a new environment, it really shows up. Her highlight is her wonderfully sensitive back, which means I can make small changes with my seat that will affect her overall balance. Jean used her sensitive back to settle the tempo, then took it to small, repeated collections with just my abdominal muscles, followed by allowing her to go a bit more forward and a bit more uphill by relaxing my abdominal muscles, followed by a following seat. Again this confirmed Scott and Barbara’s work with me – get in, get the job done, then get out and relax and ride.

Jean kept the small transitions within the gait going through transitions, circles, figure 8’s, shoulder in, half pass, and counter canter. Silly, true to her good girl nature, kept working harder and harder, and her gaits became more uphill and swingy. At the end, Jean had me collect her all the way back to half steps, and once Silly showed off her half steps, Jean had me set up a few baby passage steps. Silly was pretty tired by that time (event folks don’t seem to believe in breaks), but she came up with a couple steps for me. Gotta love this mare’s heart.

Again the true test of a clinic is in the next ride, and I was a bit worried as Silly was really whipped at the end of her lesson. But on her next schooling session, she was awesome--really swinging and uphill from the first steps. By the following Tuesday I could see a difference in her topline muscles, and feel more suspension in her trot and canter.

The other horses in my barn have also benefited from my three-lesson reminder-course in ‘ride better.’ Secret has been going like a rock star. Rocky, who I develop with his owner and only sit on once or twice a week, is more accepting of my seat. Flash has made huge strides this winter, as has her owner, and the last two weeks have just been icing on the cake.

Looking at all three lessons as a whole, the recurring theme of clear, quick corrections followed by riding the harmony, is not a new idea for me. I teach it almost daily. Working on my own, it’s easy for my type-A controlling dressage personality to take over and want to fiddle along, under the guise of “light corrections,” instead of making a clear correction and trusting that correction to work. When I ride this way, my eclectic collection of mounts each begin to happily show me their best gaits, regardless of their bloodlines or conformation. That’s what it is all about.

Now the challenge, to make it happen in front of a judge in May.

Early March lessons, part 1

2011-03-14T04:47:00.001-07:00

One big problem with dressage competition is the judges judge how the horse looks, not how they feel, and sometimes there’s a big difference between those two. And sometimes, as a trainer, I’ll need to break the rules a bit for a time to help a horse get strong in a specific part of their body. It’s not the kind of thing a trainer likes to do when there’s a show looming on the calendar, so that training is reserved for the non-competition season, which is when the ‘real’ training happens. Show season is for showing off, training season is for training.

During training, when I feel the need to break the rules a bit, I prefer to do so with some help from the ground. One of the amazing things about living here in Chester County, PA, is the wealth and depth of dressage training experience just a short trailer ride away. Some years I trailer more in the winter than in show season.

This has been a really hard winter, and to me, that means I couldn’t trailer. Added to the weather, Cara had an ugly abscess that put her out of commission for a couple of weeks in January, then as she was playing catch up from that, she and I passed a nasty cold back and forth, so we couldn’t even rely on each other’s eyes. I was left to go it on my own, which can mean I have time to work things out, or it can mean I have just enough rope to hang myself. After my last trip to Hasslers’, I was a little worried about Venus. Secret, Sling, Silhouette, Eclipse, Flash -- those guys I feel ok developing with the help of a camcorder. But Venus, well, I’ve learned a lot about training from her, as her personal training path is not my instinctive way of training, so with her, I need help. With all the ice this winter, help just wasn’t available.

By the end of February, I was ripe and ready for help.

In this mindset, of course I said “yes” to a dressage lesson at OVCTA’s Jean Moyer clinic March 5-6. When Happily Ever After farm announced that Barb Strawson would be teaching there March 3, again I said “yes.” Then, when Jann, Hassler Dressage’s secretary, e-mailed and said Scott would be available March 2, of course I said “yes” again. Well, technically I also said “yes” to the long lining clinic with Bo Jena on Valentine’s Day, but since Venus said “no-flipping-way” for most of the lesson, I don’t really count that as helpful, but that’s another story.

Venus was first up for the education week. Last time Scott saw her we were trying to get the stingy red mare to go forward when asked, without rudely coming off the bit or kicking out when I used the whip. Such lofty dressage goals, I know.

We began by discussing her progress in the 6 weeks since he saw her. I wanted to check our homework, to have some help with the in-hand whip, and to look at the half pass and maybe her flying changes. I also said the homework of breaking-the-rules with a slightly rounder topline was creating more swing and power in the trot, but was concerned because, in that outline in the canter, she can get really short in her neck.

Once we started the work, Scott thought she looked much better in her back, and was much more responsive and quicker to the aids. We went to the in-hand work right away, and he had me focus on the transition into the first half step. He wanted it really crisp. When I let her ease into the half steps, she’s tipped onto the forehand. When I got her crisper, with his help from the ground, she started sitting more and tipping her withers and her poll up. The good news is he could just touch her with the whip to get a response, instead of the rather dramatic pressure from our January visit.

After a bit more suppleness work, Venus started to give me the super-swingy trot I’ve been getting at home. I was concerned that her hind legs were too slow in it, and Scott said she was fine. My new self test is to take the trot a bit more forward and back, to verify that she was right with me and not just bouncing behind my aids.

When we took the super-swingy trot sideways in half pass though, she lost her bend, just like she’s been doing at home (I was so thrilled she was making the same mistakes in front of Scott. Nothing is more frustrating than taking a horse for help, have the horse go perfect away from home when I have help available, then go home and have the issues crop back up again.). He described her movement as “sliding sideways,” which is exactly how it feels. He had me quicken the tempo a little just before the first half pass steps, and when I combined that with a more active seat, her half pass started to bound sideways instead of slide. I still have more work to do until the half pass is show-ring ready, but I now have a plan to get there.

By the time we got to the canter, she was starting to fatigue, which meant she showed Scott the short, stiff neck-tipping forward routine that she has started. He said I was being too nice when she set her neck muscles against me. If I needed to supple her neck, I should try once politely, and if she ignored that, make a correction that she couldn’t ignore, and then go back to riding nicely. In short, get in, get the job done, then get out and ride the harmony.

He had me keep the connection, no matter how short her neck became, and put enough leg on (translate – a whole heck of a lot of leg) that she finally took a firm contact with the bit. Once she took the bit, I could more easily unlock her neck, and push her neck longer using my seat and leg.

With the canter sorted out, we ran a couple of changes, and talked about a strategy for getting both changes more consistent. Her right-to-left change is quite fluid, and she’ll let me influence the canter before, during, and after the change. The left-to-right change is another story. In the left lead canter, she leans against my right rein, and I’ve been using counter canter to help straighten the canter. Venus has gotten confused as to when she is supposed to change leads and when she is to stay in counter canter. He had me be very clear, even to the point of ugly, for the first left-to-right change, then come back and ride that same change from a much more collected canter. Going between those two ideas, she started to focus more on the aids.

The test of any lesson is the next day—if the horse feels better and the work is repeatable the next day, then the lesson was a success, no matter how pretty or ugly the actual lesson was. I’ve been working with Scott for so long now, so of course the next ride she was fabulous. I have been focusing on keeping her correct in the contact and really active with her hind legs, and she’s been rewarding me with super work for the last two weeks.

Next up was Eclipse’s lesson with Barbara Strawson. Eclipse hasn’t been off the farm since last June, when he was diagnosed with Lyme’s. He’s been feeling super, and the video looks good, but I needed confirmation that I have enough collection for his FEI debut this season.

I enjoy working with Barbara. She has a great eye, and asks about the feel at just the right time—working with her is truly training together.

Well, as expected, I had a lot of horse. Eclipse is a wonderful stallion, with a fantastic mind, but on March 3^rd spring was in the air, and the trailer sometimes goes to New Bolton’s reproductive center, and he’s an optimist, so it took a bit for him to quit craning his neck around looking for the ladies. Once he finally settled, Barb and I discussed our plan. I wanted to focus on the balance and the thoroughness, to make sure I was riding Eclipse’s most expressive, fluid gaits. The “tricks” are pretty easy for Eclipse, but with his over-achiever mentality, he can get a little over tempo, or a little over bent, or a little too collected in a matter of moments. So we got to work.

For more, see part 2

I Ride a Chestnut Mare

2011-02-19T14:01:00.000-08:00

I ride a red mare. And I enjoy it. It seems to sum up a lot of things about me.

For those few odd non-horse people who follow my blog, chestnut mares have a reputation. They tend to be sensitive, smart, slow to trust, and come with red-headed tempers.

Before anyone goes getting all “stereotyping/color profiling” on me, after spending chunks of my career at breed farms, where many of the horses were related, and other chunks of my career riding a mix of horses, I have come to the conclusion that a lot of equine behavior is nature, not nurture. Their DNA hard-wires them certain ways. As a trainer, my job is to educate the horses to be safer, more fun mounts for their humans. Sometimes this means my job is to help them learn to cope with their nature before I can work on their educations.

To explain, some horses are just born with more fear than other horses. Horses born with a lot of fear seem to be hard-wired to believe that every moment is a life-and-death moment, and I have to teach them to manage their fear. With these horses, I spend lots of time working on their confidence, by first teaching them to trust the structure of the rider’s aids, then taking that trust into scary situations. I let the horse figure out that they will survive if they trust the rider’s aids. Over time, they learn that the rider’s aids mean safety, and they manage their fear by being on the aids. If this is a young horse, who has never learned that rider’s aren’t always trustworthy, the process is pretty straight forward. But in the case of a re-train, sometimes it takes longer.

Then there are the chestnut mares.

In the case of most chestnut mares, well, they have a strong need to be right, and they need to learn to manage their tempers. Teaching a horse to manage their temper is tricky business, because it first requires that I manage mine. And yea, that hair peaking out under my helmet is, well, chestnut. You could say I understand the chestnut mare on a very basic level.

And I happily climb on 1200 lbs of that every day.

There is an up-side to the chestnut mare. That strong need to be right can work in my favor. Once the red-headed mare knows her job, she will take over and do it, 100%, with all she has. If I praise her at just the right time, she’ll dig even deeper and give me more.

That makes it all worth it.

Venus’ trip to Hassler Dressage

2011-01-08T11:25:00.000-08:00

Ah, Venus. I started this blog two weeks ago, right after we got back, and every time I decide I need to work on this blog, suddenly the laundry needs my attention, or the dog needs played with, or some other distraction comes up. Distraction is my favorite way to deal with things that I am uncertain or frustrated about. And Venus, well, her training has left me lots of room for uncertainty and frustration. Distraction has delayed this blog three weeks (but has also gotten my part of year-end paperwork done, so it’s not all bad…) , but this week I saw hope, and yesterday I felt a few minutes of WOW, so quick, while I’m feeling inspired, I’ll get this blog done.

I talked about Venus’ background in this 2009 blog, back before “the accident.” I bought her as a 2-year old because frankly, I had one too many training horses sold out from under me. I wanted a horse of my own to bring up the levels. She has the most amazing hind end, but it came with an insecure personality that held her tension in her back. With Scott’s help, I got her confident and swinging. I started to dream.

As a 5-and 6-year-old, I showed her often, as she really needed the mileage, and she rewarded my perseverance with a pretty red ribbon from Dressage at Devon in 2008. My dreams were starting to look a little like hope. I decided to keep her home for 2009 to train, with hopes of the young horse PSG class her 8-year-old year.

Well, with horses, nothing is certain.

In June of 2009 she got quite grumpy about her training, so we pulled a Lyme’s titer, and sure enough, she got to eat doxicyclene for 6 weeks. I kept her out on the hills three times a week for the duration. About Christmastime she got strong and really rocking in her training, so I started to dream again. Maybe the Young Horse PSG class as a 9-year-old then, I thought.

Venus had other plans. In late February, “the accident” happened. She tried to jump out of the indoor arena and did didn’t quite make it (why did free schooling her seem like such a good idea that day?). We finally got all that sorted out and rehabbed, then in September she had yet another break from work due to an abscess/twisted ankle/maybe she didn’t like the equithane (things are rarely black and white with horses).

So now we are here, in December, and she is very obediently doing all of her work, but I’m not pleased with the quality. It is just not what I was feeling before “the accident.” I feel like her back doesn’t have the swing it used to have, and when I ask for more power, she hovers behind my leg and bounces up-and-down in her hindquarters instead of swinging her back and lifting her shoulders. Of course, everyone tells me she looks great, but heck, her trot has gotten easy to sit and the canter has brakes--this isn’t my red-hot-firecracker chestnut. I know I’m not riding my best horse, or at least my best horse before her dramatic injury. I worry that there’s still some pain somewhere, or maybe this is all she has in her now. Not a happy mental place for me at all.

Whenever I have this kind of this-horse-is-not-right-is-it-from-discomfort-or-training, my vet, Dr. Crowley’s advice is usually to “really work them, and they’ll either break or get better.” So my plan is to pretend I don’t know her history, and have Scott help me sort out the training issues. Then be a good dressage queen and do my homework for the next few weeks, and see if dressage can work some physical therapy magic. If she’s not better by our annual coggins appointment the first week in February, then I’ll re-think my plan.

So, armed with that, I take head down to Scott’s for 3 days.

He listens to my laundry list of vague she’s-just-not-right whining, and agrees with me that she’s not using her body like she used to. His term is “stale in the back,” and that pretty much nails it on the head. He thinks the problem is a lack of suppleness in the back. So we devise a plan for day one – lots of sweeping, flowing leg yields, and then play with transitions within the gait, ridden with a slightly lower, rounder neck .

We go sideways, and not much really changes. I put the aids on, and nothing happens. She is completely blowing me off. I might as well be sitting ringside for all the notice she is giving me. So I increase the volume-we go really sideways, and she gets fussier in the bridle. Then we go sideways, compress, sideways, and she gets REALLY fussy in the bridle. So we blast forward, and she gets all strung-out and running. So we go to canter, and I can feel her hind end bouncing up behind me, jarring my lower back each canter stride. Her hind legs hover behind me in every half halt, and she won’t even stay on the bit. This is not working.

So Scott pulls out the in-hand whip. Venus, of course, is already angry, so she ignores the in hand whip completely, until the pressure is enough that she kicks out a few times. Then she begins to lower her hips just a tiny, tiny bit. So we end there.

As we discuss the ride, Scott still feels the problem is in her back. We decide that tomorrow, we’ll skip the sideways and start with in-hand work.

Day two comes, and Scott comes out with the in-hand whip, but as we begin, the training heads in other directions. She has more swing in her back than day one, and she is acknowledging the half halts, but about half of the time she is either coming behind the contact or bracing into the right rein. We have to address the connection.

We go with her usual mix-up-the-work routine (shoulder in, straighten, haunches in, compress, go out, lather, rinse repeat), but add slow flexions, asking her to yield each side of her neck, to the mix. She does some tail wringing, and fussy face stuff, then I start to feel more life in her back. Scott pulls out the in-hand whip, and she shows us a hint of her talent.

Day three comes, and Scott adds one more aid to the mix. He has me use my calf to add power/volume to the trot and canter, without changing the tempo or the direction. It helped, and her back started to move a tiny bit more than the day before. I even felt her start to chew the bit a little. But still not the Venus I had before “the accident.”

So we packed up and headed home, me with decidedly mixed feelings. I was, of course, delighted with Secret, but bummed about Venus. I was beginning to wonder if this was all she had in her now. Not a good mental place to be.

The following Wednesday, Fred, from Custom Saddlery was due out, and with my new “sponsored rider” status, I thought it was time for Venus to get her own saddle. When she was off work for her injury, I had her saddle fitted to Silly, who has been going super in it. Since returning to work, Venus has been going in borrowed equipment. Fred did some measurements, and pulled out several saddles for us to try. Four models later, I climbed into the Flight, which gave me a whole new feel for her back. She, of course, started wringing her tail and fussing with the bit, which I couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. So I asked Fred if I could borrow the demo over the holidays.

About four rides into the new saddle, I noticed a definite difference to her canter. The right lead in particular was much more up-hill and organized. When she backed off, I could push her back up to the bridle without a fight. It wasn’t perfect, but definitely better.

So now I was beginning to think some of Venus’ training problems were just that, training problems, from me working on my own with her for too long, combined with less-than-ideal saddle fit. I wasn’t sure when and if I should bring her out of the rounder frame, or where to go next with her. So I sent an e-mail to Jann, who schedules Scott’s time, begging for an early January lesson.

The Sunday before our lesson, Venus had another suicide attempt. She got startled in the crossties and sat down, breaking one cross tie as her hind feet slid forward under her. She seemed to over it, so we try to lead her forward a little, and she sat down again. I took her into the indoor to walk it out, and she was lame left hind. I felt sick.

I gave her a little bute and Suprassed everything from her belly back. Nothing was hot, but her hamstrings were tight as cords. Dr. Blakeslee, our chiropractor, is due out on Monday, so I shot her a text to see if she had time to add another horse to her list. I tossed her on the lunge line before I left Sunday night, and she looked much better. I felt a bit less nauseous.

Dr. Blakeslee put her hips back together, commented on her sore left gluteus muscles, and then worked on her back. Venus wasn’t particularly sore in her back, just immobile. After a few pops and tweaks, Venus’ trot looked much more even. Dr. Blakeslee told me to see how she was on Tuesday before I cancel my trip to Scott. I gave her a legend/adquan shot for good measure.

Tuesday my girl schooled sound and fluid. Nausea subsided.

Wednesday I took her down to Scott’s. We had a rough trip down – someone pulled out in front of me and I’m sure Venus sat down on the butt bar when I slammed on the brakes. She started the lesson pissy and behind my leg, so I booted her forward. Scott had me boot her again, and again, little short burst forward, until I felt her back release as she went forward. Then, to prevent her getting long and running, he had me halt and praise her. Then back to work. We only had to do this a couple of times, and she understood, and became a much more willing partner.

He thought she looked much more free and solid in the work than 2 ½ weeks before, and felt that I should continue with same work. He felt it may take until Feb for me to feel happy with where she is. He also said she looked quite acceptable, and if he hadn’t known how she moved before “the accident,” he would be happy with her work. For moments, at the end, we both saw a hint of the old Venus in the trot work.

As we brainstormed about her lack of power and enthusiasm, combined with how sound she looks, he mentioned the problem could be a bit more between her ears. She may be a bit ring sour. She has spent the last year in various phases of rehab, and in the new barn, her stall isn’t right in the middle of the all the human activity, so she very well could be a bit bored and depressed. The next day, I worked out a plan with Apryl to give Venus more variety in her day.

He also mentioned that, with her personality, it may take her a while to trust that her back and body don’t hurt any more. I may have to use the booting-her forward/tough love approach a bit to show her that her body doesn’t hurt. Trust is not Venus’ strong suit.

Thursday we finally had a day that wasn’t freezing, snowing, or blowing, so I took her for a hack.

Friday, I warmed her up, and she felt awesome, especially in the canter. She was right with me in the seat and the contact, but I still wanted that fluid, flowing energy feeling she had before the accident. Amy came in with the in-hand whip, and Venus’ half steps, always a highlight for her, were very good. Then I trotted out from the half steps.

And there it was.

Venus let go in her back, and just floated. We flowed from collected trot, to medium trot, to shoulder in, and it was that wonderful, connected feeling of before the accident. Amy just stood there, jaw open. “I now understand why you are so protective of her.” Yep, this horse is amazing. For five whole minutes she rocked my world again. It’s still in there.

Happy New Year

2011-01-04T14:39:00.000-08:00

It’s already January , and as I surf the web I see that the “unwritten blogger code” seems to mandate a year-in-review blog, a best-of blog, or a new-year’s resolution blog. Who am I to break the rules?

The year in Review

Frankly, 2010 was not my favorite year. It started with the passing of our landlord, Ted Gorman, followed six months later Red Bridge Farm going on the market, and a subsequent search for Straight Forward Dressage’s new home. Then, of course, there was the move itself. That stress overshadowed most of the year.

Plus my show plans for 2010 went south. In February, Venus, my super-fun red mare, was injured, knocking her out for the show season. I went through a huge emotional roller-coaster while we sorted out her injuries and her rehab plan. During this time, I rode poorly the Klimke clinic, and in my already vulnerable state, it rocked my confidence a bit. Then, shortly after the show season started, Eclipse, the Stud-boy with a heart of gold, started uncharacteristically stopping in the show ring. Sure enough, a raging Lyme’s titer benched him for the show season.

Lest you think the year was all bad, Secret and I felt like stars at the Region 1 Adult Dressage Symposium, and even got our photo in USDF Connections Magazine. She continued to be a star all season, winning at first and second levels and finishing with all-breeds awards and a new ‘/’ after her name.

Frankly, my horses and my students got me through this year. Pikasso, Flash, Sling and Silly each made amazing progress in their training, which helped keep me going. Pikasso’s awesome progress was caught on film. I had watched Flash, an Art Deco-line mare, run away with her owner for years, and this year I got the opportunity to teach Flash to turn that speed into suspension, improving her attitude in the process. Sling, Wendy's awkward yearling bloomed into a swan of a 4-year-old. And Silly, the mare I bought in December 2008 to resale and had been frustrated by her lack of progress, figured out how to use her back and let her talent come out.

The amazing progress my students have made also kept me going. Last weekend, we had our annual “Winter Workshop, formerly known as Winter Camp.” Watching my students now compared to last year, wow, it was really impressive. Linda, Liz, Joyce, Kristen, Paige and Wendy were so much more confident horse people this year than last year. It made my teacher’s heart warm. As soon as I get the pictures, I’ll tell you more about it.

And, of course, the year had a happy ending with us finding a home a Journey’s End Farm in Glenmoore. We were all anxious about sharing the facility with the two businesses already in residence, Point of View farm as well as Journey’s End Farm, but our anxieties were not warranted. Sharing with Pixie and Deb is pleasant and comfortable.

Plus, as an additional happy ending, I became a Custom Saddlery Sponsored rider. When I look at the list of riders they sponsored, I’m humbled to be in the same company.

Best of Blogs

My favorite blogs were also noticed by others, which I think is really cool. The Warm-Up Ring Safety blog was picked up by OVCTA and LVDA for their newsletters, and Retread Eventer listed it in her “best blogs” column. The Michael Klimke Clinic blog was painful and therapeutic to write, and my old college newspaper editor stumbled across it and sent me a compliment, making my day. I also liked my Band Nerd blog, but it was actually December 2009, so I’m kinda cheating on this one.

New Year’s Resolutions

This year, I want to become a better trainer for my horses, competitor for my clients, teacher for my students, and boss to my amazing, reliable and hardworking staff.

Competitively, I’d love to make a run for the Young Horse Championships with Sling, see how Venus, Silly, and Secret do at 3^rd level, and see if Eclipse and I can hit the show ring in tails and a top hat, but horses are horses, so we’ll see how the season unfolds.

I’d like to get better at blocking off non-horse time for my patient husband and circle of good friends.

I’d like to get to the gym more, to be as fit of an athlete as I ask my horses to be.

Ok, 2011, bring it on.

Ockie's Three Days at Hassler Dressage

2010-12-31T03:42:00.000-08:00

By Cara Klothe

Ockie’s trip to Riveredge was an unexpected success. Two weeks prior, I had totally given up and given her to Ange for four rides (I think it only lasted four rides). This happens to Ockie and I sometimes—we just need a time out from one another. The pressure of having your own horse hit a training plateau can cloud the ability to train correctly, which is when having a second trainer around comes in handy. Plus, for some reason, it seems harder to acknowledge how much progress YOUR horse has made. Other people’s horses, no problem, but seeing your horse’s own progress seems to be harder.

But enough with that, on to Scott’s.

The last time I was down, a few months back, we were working on Ockie’s one tempis, or flying changes every stride. (sidenote: for anyone who saw Ockie’s changes a year ago, yes, it’s a miracle that we are even working on the ones.) At that time I could get two one-tempis, and he sent me home with lots of homework on how to improve those two one-time changes.

I had done my homework, and even I could admit our two one-tempis had definitely improved. With great confidence I can go down the quarter line and make multiple sets of two one-tempis….so now add a third, that can’t be too hard, she had the two one-tempis down so well. Well let me tell you, it was hard. Ockie is not naturally confident in her changes. I’ve worked hard to make good, high quality single changes (down to two tepis), but she still gets nervous when she thinks she’s messing up the changes. Teaching her the one-tempis we have to address her brain more than body.

So the first day down at Hassler’s we focused the one-tempis. More specifically, we looked at the half halt that leads up to the changes. Because one-tempis come so fast, the half-halt to has to be fast. Additionally, the half-halt before the tempis has the extra purpose of making the horse quicker in the canter, not slower. We worked on getting the three parts of that half halt really good—the in, the during, and, most importantly, the out. Once we got that we moved to the two one-tempis, which were even better. Then we tried three in a row…no dice. At that point we had tortured the poor mare enough and called it a day.

Day two we again started with the one-tempis after her warm up. When working on something hard for Ockie, it is important to do that work when she is fresh, not tired. We used the same plan as the day before, working the details of the half halt and single changes to make the ones better. We then looked at her tricky right shoulder. Her favorite evasion is to carry her right shoulder too far to the right right, which takes all of the contact out of the left rein, resulting in no half halt on the left rein. I need a left rein to half-halt to get the final change back to the left lead.

We addressed this by leg yielding her off my right leg to quarter line. I got a better feeling in my left hand for the changes, but still no luck when it came to three in a row. However, she felt much more connected over her back than she had the day before, so that was positive and hopeful for more one-tempis in the near future.

At the end of day two we worked on half steps, the short trot steps that prepare a horse for piaffe. We worked on these a bit at home, so Ockie was pretty good. Scott used an in-hand whip to activate her hind legs from behind, while I kept Ockie relatively in place and elaxed in her topline. We were able to get some pretty good half steps out of her before we called it a day.

Day three poor Ockie really worked. Again we went right to the ones, while the pieces were all good, but still no luck with three in a row, so Scott gave me lots of homework for getting them at home, and we moved on.

The in -hand work on day three was awesome! Ockie got some actual piaffe steps and by reinforcing the half-halt with the in-hand work, the trot was amazing, the best I have ever felt. We then really tested her by going on to pirouette work. I was really happy with her work, considering I haven’t done much with pirouette’s since BLM Finals in October. We ended with some more one-tempis, ones down the quarter line just to test her willingness to work when tired, and she was great!

All in all it was a great weekend, not only did we get a lot of work accomplished, but, probably more importantly, I was so impressed by how much Ockie has matured. She did not get emotional about much at all: maybe a little in the one-teempis, but that is to be expected. I have to admit, she has come a long way from the horse I bought two years ago, no matter what I thought two weeks before our trip to Riveredge.

Just in case anyone was wondering, two rides latter we got three ones in a row J

Secret’s Three Days at Hassler Dressage

2010-12-24T04:44:00.000-08:00

December 15-18 Cara, Linda and I loaded up Secret, Venus, and Ockie for a 3-day winter-training jump start. I know I’m a bit late in getting this blog written, but frankly, I have been processing all of the info. To keep this from getting miles and miles long, I divided it into 3 blogs, one per horse.

Check her out in the 'big girl' bridle!

First, Secret. Secret was awesome, as always. She and I have been on our own with her since October, and I was eager to get some feedback. She has felt great lately, but sometimes it looks different than it feels, which is why eyes-on-the-ground are so important in this sport. I was ripe for Scott’s eyes.

Secret has the most unique learning style I’ve ever ran into on a horse – I swear she learns by a series of light bulb moments. Combine that with her I-will-do-my-best-every-single-step personality, and I have a unique problem as a trainer. If I have explained it in a way she understands, then her try-too-hard nature works for me, and all is good. If I haven’t, then it works against me, and she’s frustrated. For Secret, frustration means speed, which makes everything harder. I went to Scott hoping he’d help Secret find her light bulb (and a resulting reasonable tempo) in the left canter half pass and the flying changes.

So on to the lessons.

This was Secret’s first outing in the ‘big girl’ bridle, her double bridle. She’s been schooling in it 2-3 times a week for about 6 weeks. Scott was as impressed as I have been at how well she accepts the double. Where double bridles are concerned, the light bulb is glowing brightly.

First, we addressed the canter half pass. Scott and I had worked on the half pass back in October at the BLMs, and my homework had yielded a much more adjustable canter with a more even contact, but hadn’t really worked into a better half pass.

So he changed gears. Instead, he had me show her how her feet should go, by first half passing left in the walk, then straightening a bit, then cueing half pass in canter. He warned me that the risk is she would fall left in the canter, but since she wasn’t going left at all – just speeding up from my leg – it’s a risk he was willing to take.

The first time we did this, Secret was all discombobulated. She couldn’t figure out how to canter, much less half pass. The second time it was a little better, and the third time, if you used a lot of imagination, you could sort of see a half pass. The light bulb was starting to flicker on. So we left that for the day.

Next, the changes. Secret was having the same trouble with the changes—she just hasn’t figured out how to sort out her legs. In general, dressage has come so easily to Secret that she gets frustrated when she can’t sort it out. Since frustration creates speed in Secret, several attempted flying changes had resulted in warp-speed laps around the arena. I had tried several methods at home, and trying the changes over a ground pole had given us the best results.

Because Secret got a little tense working the half pass, Scott broke the ground pole work into several slow steps. We walked over it, we trotted over it, we trotted up and walked over it, we walked up and cantered away, etc, until the ground pole was no big deal. Then we tried a change over it, and when she got it, we praised her like mad, and called it a day.

This photo is a bit fuzzy, but you can see her absolute concentration. She is determined to figure this out.

On day 2, once Secret was warmed up, we went right to the half pass, and she was ready. The half pass was fluid, with clear crossing and sideways. Apparently, her light bulb moment had happened sometime overnight. She must have spent the night working out the footfalls in her stall. It’s freaky sometimes how this horse learns.

The flying changes were also better. They were pretty consistent over the ground pole, but she didn’t really have it sorted out enough without the pole. So there’s a light bulb about the ground pole, but she hasn’t quite seen the light without the pole yet. That’s ok. We got one without the pole, and then went back to the pole, mixing it up to keep her relaxed. He recommended that, if she starts anticipating the pole at home, I lay out several poles, or raise one pole up a bit. We are all confident that the changes are going to be fine. We’ve got all winter.

On day three, again we started with a left half pass, and Secret was like guys, I’ve got this now. Since I had a homework plan for the changes, we skipped them for the day, and instead went to work on quality of her basic gaits. In shoulder in, he had me ride the outside shoulder movement bigger. When we returned to the collected trot, the shoulder movement stayed bigger, and the trot itself felt more rolling. She’s starting to show lovely suspension and cadence in her trot.

In the canter, he asked me to make the canter more ‘lofty,’ particularly in the downward transition from medium canter to collected canter. Thinking this way maintained her suspension and kept the canter from getting too up-and-down (she is half Friesian…). Her neck stayed nice and long, and her back swung like a hammock. What a super feeling.

We also looked at the trot half passes, and to sum up the corrections Scott gave me, she’s ready for more bend to go with the leg crossing. In other words, go find the big girl half passes. We can do that.

So we have plenty of homework to keep us busy this winter. Secret’s so much fun to work with, light bulbs and all.

Pikasso's Amazing Progress

2010-12-01T11:03:00.000-08:00

Below are 3 videos of Pikasso, an 18-year-old Hanoverian, that I have had in sales training for the last 6 months. I have known him for years. Katie, his original owner, started as a student and quickly became a friend. When she needed to sell Pikasso, Abby, another student, bought him. Abby had some lifestyle changes, and Pikasso contracted Lymes--between the two, Abby wasn't having fun anymore, so decided to sell him. After 6 months of me riding him and trying to sell him (why does everyone want a baby instead of a schoolmaster??? Horses don't become wise teachers until they have a few years on them....but that's another soapbox...), Abby has remembered why she fell in love with Pikasso in the first place, and decided to keep him.

So that's the back story. As a trainer, this horse amazes me. Below are 4 videos - two in May, one in July, and the third one last weekend. He has changed so much in 6 months. Yes, he has the body to do dressage, but that's not why he has came back to 100%. He has made his amazing comeback because of his terrific character. Pikasso is always trying his best, and because of that, even when the work was really, really hard, he persevered.

If you want to see this blog as shameless self-promotion, go ahead, but I see it as a tribute to a horse who wanted to do the work, and the work made him sounder and more beautiful.

I'm going to start at the beginning - here's a link to two videos of Pikasso at the end of May.

Pikasso canter work, May 2010

Pikasso trot work, May 2010

In these videos, you can see how weak his back and left hind leg are. He wants to carry his hind legs under his tail instead of under his tummy, and because of his weakness, breaks in the middle in the half halts. You can also see his character, he's going to try to get the job done, because I'm asking him to. That's Pikasso.

By July, he had made such good progress, we shot some more video. His back and hindquarters are much stronger, and he is starting to show some suspension. His left hind is still weaker, but not nearly as significant as in May. His canter has really changed - much more cadenced and uphill.

Pikasso in July 2010

Then there's Saturday's video. The thing that struck me most in this video is how he looks so solid, like one horse. He's back to being the awesome dressage horse he was before Lyme's. Plus Doug got a new video editing program, so this video has a nifty, new intro.

Pikasso in November 2010

How was the move? Well....

2010-11-17T05:11:00.000-08:00

I write this blog for two reasons – to answer the question of “how did the move go?” and to apologize to everyone who put up with me during the first week of our lives at Journey’s End.

On the eve of our move, I knew it was my last free time for a while, so Doug and I had dinner at home and watched Fight Club. Little did I know how prophetic it would be. If you haven’t seen this move, quit reading now, as I am about to spoil the ending. Or continue to read, it’s your call, but see the movie anyway, it’s a good flick.

So here’s the spoil –this 1999 movie, starring Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Helena Bonham Carter, chronicles the narrator, mild-mannered office worker, as he slips into schizophrenia and back. Tyler, his alter ego, in true Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde fashion, couldn’t be more different than he is. Tyler is brash and pushy, and people flock to him. He instigates Fight Club, an all-male, down-and-dirty brawl club, and goes on to build a global organization to spread anarchy. But what makes the movie so great is this—until the end, the audience and the narrator (he never gets a name, by the way, which I find a really fun literary trick) think Tyler and he are two different people. The movie foreshadows Tyler’s emergence with one-frame blips of Tyler reclining in various scenes, until he emerges as a fully-fleshed out character, who rescues the narrator from stressful situations with aggressive ease, and is finally vanquished at the end of the movie.

With this move, I think I may have found my personal Tyler. Let’s call her Tylene.

Flash one – Wednesday, day one of the move, as we are loading horses, I need to make a last-minute change in trailering order. The trailer owner was unhappy with my choice. Tylene emerged, and did a not-so-tactful “that’s the way it’s going to be.” By the time we arrived at Journey’s End, I was back in charge, and apologized.

Flash two –Thursday, day two of the move. The gal I hired to do stalls doesn’t show up. I cancel my morning lesson and Amy, my amazing groom and faithful sidekick, hump out the stalls, then make another run to Red Bridge for stall mats (I hate stall mats, on many levels). Someone calls to ask how the move is going, and Tylene grabs my vocal cords and announces, “I’m not leaving this f*&^ farm until I sit on a horse, and it may be midnight before that happens.” Not exactly the reply they were expecting….

I did manage to hop on two training horses, Miss Perfect Secret and Turbo-Flash, who both worked well, despite the new digs and the multiple-personality rider.

Friday I called Apryl, a student who has been looking for work, and she jumps in as stall help. I teach a bunch of lessons, and actually managed to ride everyone. My horses (the ones only I ride) did an Ange/Tylene also – Venus and Sling, the hot potatoes, who I expected to be loony, were good as gold. Silhouette and Eclipse, my steady horses, were very full of themselves. Schizophrenia is apparently contagious.

Flash three – Saturday the weekend stall help had schedule problems, so again I’m mucking, and the time is ticking on getting out of Red Bridge. I had hoped to finish moving by the weekend, but after doing barn chores and teaching my lessons, I made one trip to Red Bridge, not the 3 I had planned. Linda and Catharine jumped in to help, not only with the chores and moving, but formed a human shield between me and my clients. Without them, random Tylene flashes may have run everyone off by the end of the weekend. My business thanks them.

Sunday morning, I had two goals—integrate Silhouette into turnout, and get the rest of the stuff out of Red Bridge. When my mucking help texted again that she had schedule problems, Tylene took over. Linda and I had planned a 10:30 start to finish getting stuff out of Red Bridge. After chores were finished, it happened at 1.

We pulled back in to Journey’s End, and I see two students finishing their rides, and instantly, my emotions churn. I’m like an addict surrounded by users, and I burn with jealousy. They are happily enjoying their horses, and I’m covered with dirt and schlepping SFD’s stuff, stuff they enjoy utilizing (cavaletti, mounting block, first aid supplies, extra blankets, the list goes on and on), and I haven’t had my horse fix yet. I was not in a good mental place.

A student comes up to tell me how much she loves the place, and thank me for bringing her trunk over, and can I help her take it up to the loft, and I lose it. Tylene is firmly in control now.

I actually stomped my feet and threw a hissy fit worthy of a 3-year-old. “No. I’m not doing another thing until I take care of my own d*%^ horse. You’ll just have to wait.”

That caught everyone’s attention. Suddenly everyone had a moment to help unload the truck and trailer. Score one for Tylene.

By Tuesday, a fellow wandered into Journey’s End looking for stall work—I hired him, and put Apryl on horse care duty--changing blankets, swapping turnout, scrubbing water tubs, washing horses for clipping, etc, all the stuff that makes us full-service boarding and not just feed-and-muck boarding.

Within days, a rhythm emerges, and we get stuff put away and the horses settle in, and training gets back on schedule. Tylene moves back into the shadows.

In Fight Club, the narrator vanquishes Tyler because he falls in love with a rather quirky woman. The rhythm of life at Journeys’ End does the same for me. I fall in love the footing and mirror placement in the indoor, I fall in love the huge fields to hack around, I fall in love the full-size permanent dressage arena, and I fall in love with being in complete control of my horse’s care again. I fall in love with running SFD at Journey’s End, and Tylene is vanquished. I hope for good.

BLM Finals 2010

2010-10-25T08:47:00.000-07:00

The easiest way to mess up a perfectly good training flow is to enter a show. Works every time.

Secret, the super-star good girl, for the two weeks before the BLMs, well, simply wasn’t. The rides would start out well. Then tension would creep in. She’s half Arabian, so she can do tension. Tension in Arab-speak means quickness. The other half is Friesian. Tension in Friesian-speak means a chess-piece neck and a hollow back. Then I’d get strong (big show coming – gotta get it right RIGHT NOW). Secret’s good-girl nature would kick in, and she’d start over-reacting to every aid. Then she’d hit overload, and run away with me. With her neck in already in my lap, I didn’t have brakes. Great.

On that note, let’s toss her in the trailer and compete with the best horses on the east coast. Just to add to the fun, let’s take the 4-year-old along. I figured, if I’m going to be embarrassed in public, I’m going to do it right.

Tuesday, as Secret and I are dashing around the arena in a ball of frustration, Ed, who will forever be known as Amazing Shoer Ed, dropped by to reset a couple horses. I dismounted in a storm cloud. I did my usual “Ed, fix this horse.” He, of course, offered me a lesson, and did his standard line about how he can’t fix training problems with a horse shoe, and then proceeded to do just that.

Guess the mare wanted bigger hind shoes.

Of course, she’s a mare, so this didn’t make her perfect by Wednesday. She still had to trust that I would be trustworthy, which frankly, I hadn’t been. The 45-mph winds on Thursday didn’t help, but even with the wind, she kept getting better and better in all of her reactions. Her scores on Thursday at second level were low 60’s, but as she became more ride-able with every passing moment, she showed me that the trust was returning. That was much more important to me than high scores.

Friday was our second level championship class, so I asked Scott for warm-up help. Within moments he had us sorted out. He had me focus more on the rolling feel of her gaits, instead of the engagement, and she just floated into her championship class. She was amazing. She read my thoughts and we danced through second level test three.

Championship classes have two judges, one at C and one at E. The C judge agreed with me. The other, well, not-so-much.

Ah, the fun of horse shows.

The C judge awarded her a 65 and change, placing her third in the class. The E judge gave her a low 57%, placing her near the bottom. I’ve seen spreads before, but this particular spread really bothered me. A 65% means your horse is on the right track and all is good. A 57% means either something bad happened, or you and your horse are insecure at the level. With these thoughts churning in my mind, I headed out to ride in the second level test three open class. When I sent in entries, I hoped to use it as the warm-up for the Championship class, but the schedule hadn’t worked out that way. As I looked around warm up, I noticed that most of the other second level championship competitors had the same idea.

I went down the centerline, rolled into the medium, and my mind was churning with thoughts of “Am I messing up this super-fun horse???”, and then into the first shoulder-in, with “no, that friggin’ judge needs her eyes examined,” and on and on it went, rolling between cursing the judge in my mind and wondering if I owed Secret’s mom, Linda, a huge refund. Meanwhile, Secret is going along under me doing her job, with frankly, very little help from me.

Secret seems to know her job. She earned a 64% and placed third.

So we decided the judge at C was right.

Saturday we had scheduled a lesson with Scott—between their building project and WEG effecting the show schedule this year, lessons down at Hasslerville have been slim pickings. If we know he’s going to be at a multi-day show, we try to reserve a day for training instead of competing. Lately, the left half-pass in canter seemed to jump-start our tension/runaway cycle. With Scott’s help, we were able to sort out what is physical tension and what is emotional tension, and work out a plan to help Secret through both. She was super. I can’t wait for next year; third level is going to suit her well.

Sunday was our first level championship class. I had low expectations for the class, as at first level she gets dinged a lot for her upright, Friesian neck.

She warmed up well. Cara was my eyes on the ground, making sure I had the ideal tempo and neck as long as she could balance. The class started really well, with Secret right with me, but as we got further into the test, I could feel the fatigue of a long show. She tried really hard, and did all of her work right with my aids, but her neck got shorter as her gas tank ran low, and I was giving her a lot of help with my seat.

The judges saw the fatigue, but they also saw the obedience. Her combined score was a 66%--with both judges being within .5 of each other.

She went at 11:50, and it was a huge class, ending at 4:08, and awards were at 4:20. At lunchtime, her 66% stood her sixth with ribbons to tenth, so we went to lunch in Lexington, hit their awesome bookstore, and then took our time packing.

When we got back to the showgrounds, she was hanging on to ninth place. At about 3:45, she was bumped out of the ribbons, so we debated leaving or hanging out for the test sheets. By the time Linda had done the Arab paperwork and I had crammed the last things into the trailer, we loaded the horses and pulled around to the office and just as our test sheets were available.

Holy crap the little black mare gave me a 10 and two 9’s.

The halt at A earned a 10 from one judge at C and the 9 from the judge at E. The other 9 was on the leg yield on her harder side from the C judge, who could really see her crossing, and rewarded her lateral suppleness.

SIing, of course, was a star schooling with the big boys all weekend. He and I had two lessons with Scott. He handled the distractions much better than at Devon, and by the end of the week he was letting me re-engage his brain when he lost focus, no small feat for a young mind. In his second lesson he gave me glimpses of the big-boy canter to come. Wow, this horse is going to be amazing.

Now I’m home and back to reality. This week we move into our new home at Journeys’ End Farm in Glenmoore, Pa. The week after we have one more show – the OVCTA Big Fall Show, then the season is completely over. This last show has me really excited about the winter’s training.

Pictures to come, I promise!

Warm-up Ring Safety

2010-10-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

A year ago, at the OVCTA Big Fall Show, an accident occurred in warm-up. A competitor was seriously hurt. She was life-flighted from the show grounds and spent several months recovering. She has made a complete recovery. Thankfully, her story has a happy ending.

A few months back, she came to our OVCTA board meeting to discuss warm-up safety. Not etiquette, safety. Her thoughts and resulting suggestions made extremely good sense. Since then, I’ve been preaching it to my students ad nauseam. Of course, riding a youngster at Dressage at Devon got me even more fired up about this particular soap box.

The soap box goes like this—when you get on a horse, you are responsible for the safety of everyone around you. You cannot blame the horse, or the left-shoulder-to-left-shoulder rule that half of the world forgets. You, as pilot, need to keep your eyes up and keep your horse far enough away from other horses to prevent accidents by preventing herd instinct from kicking in, literally or proverbially.

Horses are horses, and are hard-wired to certain instinctual behavior, regardless of their training. Their instincts say that when a horse is crowding their personal space, he is asserting authority. In a pasture, when Bucky crowds Angel, Angel either moves away from Bucky, showing submission, or fires a kick at Bucky, telling him she’s the boss. Once this hierarchy is established, both Bucky and Angel can happily graze.

Put Bucky and Angel in a crazy, stressful warm-up, in an unfamiliar setting, with a bunch of other strange horses, and, for the horses, hierarchy is up for grabs. This whole equine discussion is going on while we are focused on competing for tiny pieces of satin.

Our race for satin brings out the “it’s-a-horse-show -I’ve-gotta-get-this- absolutely-perfect-right-now” behavior, i.e. looking down, and problems arise. There we are, being all self-focused and perfectionistic, unaware of the battle for herd hierarchy around us, and we don’t notice the other horses until we are too close.

One of two things happens. Our confident, powerful dressage horse does what dressage training was originally created to do—he clears a path through the battle field. The less confident horse gives way, maybe towards another less confident horse, who also gives way. Or worse, towards another confident war horse, and less confident horse panics. By this point, the rider on the confident horse is half an arena away, not even realizing the chain reaction they started.

Or the second thing happens. The insecure horse tries to look around and get a feel for the heirarchy, which gets the rider correcting the horse’s head and looking down, which makes the horse feel more fussy and claustrophobic, and the rider more tense and frustrated, creating more tension, to the point of boiling. About that time, that confident war horse enters stage right, and the insecure horse looses it.

In both scenarios, injuries can be prevented if we just stay aware of what’s going on around us.

As a coach, I can help prevent injuries by making my job of be my student’s “eyes on the ground” on step further. In addition to helping her be confident about her horse’s tempo and balance, and I can also keep her clear of traffic jams.

As a competitor, I can prevent injuries by keeping my eyes up and communicating with the other competitors. “Coming up behind you,” or “outside,” said at the last minute does not justify cutting someone off, but said early enough can prevent many disasters. If I’m riding a particularly insecure or inexperienced horse, I can communicate that to my fellow competitors. This does not absolve me of responsibility, but hopefully it will remind my fellow competitors that I’m in there, and to please look around occasionally. Or I can warm up my Nervous Nellie in a quiet, out-of-the-way warm up.

But my contributions are not enough.

Every one of us needs to wear the responsibility for everyone’s safety like a coat. We need to be aware of each other, and communicate with each other, and know that we, personally, can keep our fellow riders from harm.

Because the best happy ending is the accident that never happened.

Dressage at Devon 2010, Sling’s Trip to the BIG TIME

2010-10-01T05:29:00.000-07:00

Dressage at Devon is a magical show each year. Take the largest DSH breed show in the country, complete with tons of cute, nervous babies, add a prestigious CDI with the fire-breathing FEI horses, then top it off with a kick-butt trade fair, and you have a A LOT going on. Then cram the whole thing on a show grounds the size of a city block. Yes, this is a recipe for craziness, and yes, it is an intense show, but somehow it works.

This year, Slingshot, Wendy Adam’s super-star 4-year-old was my ride. Sling, more than any other horse I ride, has a fan club. Wendy owns Glory Springs Farm, a big, active boarding barn in Wernersville, where I teach a couple times a month. We joking call it SFD West. Wendy bought Sling in utero from Marilyn Cormier, another student, and he grew up at Glory Springs, so all of the boarders know him. He’s been with me at Red Bridge since January, and his fun personality combined with his loud snore (this boy can saw some logs) as endeared him to the home SFD crowd. So when we show, everyone comes out to cheer him on.

This was Sling's "staff" on Tuesday - he had a whole new crew on Wednesday!

I love this young horse too. He’s goofy, personable, honest, gives 110% every ride, and has an AMAZING hind leg. True to his bloodlines, he is a slow-maturing horse, so Wendy and I decided to wait until he was fully 3 ½ before we started his formal education. He’s been under saddle since mid-February, and rewarded our patience by being mentally ready to start his show ring education by July. I specify mentally, because every time I enter him in a show, he hits another growth spurt, tipping his balance hither-and-yon, resulting in some interesting dressage tests. That is the reality of showing young horses.

I love the young horses. Helping these young horses learn confidence and trust is really exciting to me. To build confidence, I have to take the youngsters to the edge of their comfort zone, then bring them back to more comfortable, over and over again. To build trust, I have to clearly create boundaries for when they are nervous, but I can’t add pressure when they are at that edge. I have to sense when they are on the edge of overload, and take them to where they feel safe. I have to be completely ok with any embarrassing shenanigans that may happen. Often, to help, I enlist an equine babysitter—a seasoned, nothing-bothers-me, no-nonsense horse to help.

In July, the NJ Horse Park show was perfect for Sling’s first outing. Secret was going too, so she could play babysitter. The show was 3 days long, so he could be there long enough to work through the worry, then get over it. We requested the back side of barn C so he could have a quiet place to get away from the show ring commotion.

As expected, Sling was OVERWHELMED. On Friday, when he was completely beside himself, we didn’t canter on the left lead at all. His safe spot was anywhere that Secret, his babysitter, was. We spent a lot of time walking and lunging, and had to keep our mounted work in the quiet, tucked-away-out-back warm up. Secret came ringside with him and watched his tests. By day 3 he was much more confident, both leads had arrived, and we could watch the big boys in the crazy warm-up, but joining them in the sandbox, well, not yet. He showed in the 4-year-old test, and earned respectable scores. Wendy and I were very pleased.

Since July he has had 3 other day trips, twice with a baby sitter and once flying solo, but all at quiet venues, and he has become more and more confident with each outing. But Devon is anything but quiet.

We arrived on Monday afternoon, and a stroke of luck had us stabled with Ursula Ferrier, who owns Scimitar, Sling’s dad. Ursula is not only a great horseman, she is a fun person to hang out with, which kept the atmosphere calm and relaxed, which is exactly what Sling needed.

On Monday, when I schooled Sling, he seemed cool as a cucumber coming out of the barn, so I mounted and rode to warm-up. Our timing was unfortunate—everyone seemed to leave right as we arrived. His confidence left with the other horses, so I got off and went back for lunging equipment. A few minutes on the lunge, and it seemed a light bulb went off in his head. It was like he said, “Oh, yea, I know how to do this,” and my good boy returned.

Warm up on Tuesday

Tuesday Sling’s entourage showed up to watch him go in Suitability to be a Dressage Horse. Sling was a perfect gentleman about having so many humans fuss over him. He warmed up great, and once in the ring, he noted that I was making suggestions from the saddle, but was a bit too overwhelmed to truly respond to them. I played my supportive rider role (“no, Sling, the judges stand won’t bite,” “Good boy Sling for going around the flowers instead of jumping them,” etc.) and tried to keep him away from crowd. We did ok staying clear, that is, until they called for the right lead canter. Right then I was looking for my way clear, but was behind two horses and with one on my right. They all started cantering. My vote was for us to make a circle, and depart on that circle, but herd instinct pulled Sling into the canter – which would have been ok, if it had been the correct lead.

I brought him back to trot, and actually cued the canter, but by then he was upset, so he took the incorrect lead again. By try 3 we got the lead, but Mr. Try-too-Hard was flustered. The rest of the class was nervous rushing. His mind didn’t even settle in the line up–he stood there fussing with his bit, which is new for him.

Wednesday our Materialle class was later in the day, and Wendy and I alternated walking him around most of the day. But it really didn’t matter, by the time I got on he was wound up. I spent warm up asking for his attention, and about the time I was concerned I wouldn’t get it, he settled in to my aids. Then I started to get ambitious. I know Wendy wasn’t concerned about the placing, but I like to give owners ribbons when they let me compete their horses.

So we went in, and frankly, I over-rode the trot work. As a result, I got his neck a little short, and he got fussy in the contact and inconsistent in the tempo. After the first trot, the judge had us walk for what seemed like forever, which gave Sling time to settle into the arena and me time to mentally whip myself into shape. I allowed his neck longer for the canter work, which allowed his incredible hind legs to do their thing, earning him a 7.6 for his canter. He earned a 7.6 for general impression, and a 6.7 for walk. Not surprising, his trot was his lowest score, at 6.5, for an overall of 71%, ranking him 7th overall.

But the best part for me was after the class, when this huge, goofy warmblood, in the craziest show in the area, is such a good boy that Paige, Wendy’s 10-year-old daughter, can lead him around in all that commotion. This is a super horse on so many levels.

Thanks Wendy, for the opportunity to show such a fun horse.

A Barn STILL in Limbo

2010-09-29T05:08:00.000-07:00

For some reason, writing a horse blog has an inherent pressure to focus on the sunshine-and-butterflies. Most of the time I can easily comply, but sometimes it is really hard.

Like lately. Mixed between the super training progress and great fun at shows is one overriding pressure – I still haven’t found a barn.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull a “poor-Ange” on you, I do very much love what I do. But lately, this whole barn-relocation has tainted the fun. I hate that the time and effort to build Straight Forward Dressage into a positive, supportive horse community could be shattered if I can’t find a suitable facility. Plus I’d have to go find a “real job.” So I’m being hit on both the practical and idealistic levels. (ok, so maybe this is a little “poor-Ange,” but I think I may be entitled to just a little)

Stress? What stress??

Half of Red Bridge’s property closed September 15^th, and I am happy for Renee. A few horses have left, and the remainders are in training with either Cara or I, so I am much happier about that. When I let the business expand to include boarders, I felt I was getting stretched too thin, and not giving the care I like to give. We have consolidated down to the main barn and the little white hunter barn, which makes chores much easier. My only real complaint is the loss of the washing machine. As I type, I am at a laundry mat washing saddle pads.

As of today, I have three options, and whichever one I choose will change the direction of SFD. Late last week I thought I had this all sorted out, but the contract negotiations are getting dicey, so I don’t think it’s going to work out. Being so close to “out of limbo,” then being back in limbo, well, it makes it that much more unsettling.

My horse-pro friends have been super-supportive in all of this. Several have offered me stalls, and so I won’t be stuck stabling horses in my tiny back yard (yes, I have had that nightmare more than once lately…).

I guess this is the price to pay for having so much fun most of the time.

Ok, I’ll get off the pity-pot now.

It’s Devon week, and Slingshot is handing it all like the super-star he is becoming. Cara and Ockie are competing the PGS and I-1 on Friday and Saturday, then three weeks later we head to BLMS. More on that later--in a more positive light, I promise!

Pics from Region 8

2010-09-24T04:24:00.000-07:00

I promised photos - here are a few.

Chilly weather on Thurs, we just HAD to have jackets.

This show was nuts, lots of stuff going on. The hunters were competing in their Marshall-Sterling finals, the jumpers were doing their thing, Tues -Thurs had a DSH show, and we had 6 dressage arenas cranking, one under CDI rules. This makes for a really fun show, with tons to watch, and, of course, brings out the vendors.

This little dude was a pony jumper, didn't catch his name, but seriously, the jumps are as high as his withers. Impressive!

Shows are a combination of relaxed sitting around, then hurry-up-and-stress.

Cara and Linda's pre-class ritual.

Ockie likes her hay where she can see everything.

I drug them off the show grounds one day to see Saugerties' famous lighthouse. It may be the shortest lighthouse I've ever seen.

See, tiny lighthouse. Only3 stories high.

I got artsy with my new camera :-).

Oh, yea, competition shots!

And, of course, a special thanks to our coach.

The Tack Room Makeover

2010-09-20T07:58:00.000-07:00

Anyone who works with me knows I get snippy when I can’t find things. At a show, when we are out of our routines and stressed, order is hard to find. Luckily, Cara feels the same way, so usually our tack room is a picture of anal organization. But not last weekend.

Part of the problem is my new trailer. In my old trailer, I kept some show stuff tucked under my shelves, just for horse shows. My new trailer has these awesome airflow windows, so I’ve been sorting out what can go where, what lives in the trailer all the time, what comes just for shows, and keeping it all below the windows. As a result, I forgot my cheapie-tired-looking-do-we-really-need-these plastic shelving and carpet. Well, we needed them. Without the carpet to define our tack room into zones, and our shelves to get stuff up off the floor, we were primed for disorder. Then add unpredictable upstate NY fall weather, which feeds the over-packing instinct, and we had, by far, our messiest tack room ever.

BLMs are 4 1/2 weeks away, so I’m trolling web sites and e-bay for solutions. Furniture for a tack room is a challenge. Every show stabling is different. Saugerties, this weekend, had nice, tall stall walls, so even if we had hanging shelving, they wouldn’t hang low enough to reach. The walls were also pretty thick, so the hanger-part had to be able to fit over the wall – a problem for our bridle racks. But the floors were pretty flat, a rarity in show stabbing, so free-standing items (like my forgotten selves) would work well. At NJ Horse Park, on the other hand, the stall walls are wood half-way up, then chain link at the top, giving us lots of places to hang stuff, but making the tack stall an easy victim of rain or a runaway hose.

In an ideal world, the tack stall furniture would be stuff that we can pack in, then ship in, so there’s no packing for show-unpacking into tack stall-repacking to go home- unpacking back at home. Add our durability requirements, and I end up shopping for my tack stall at home improvement stores. Max, our favorite addition this season, is a fabulously portable tool box by Stanley. Max’s best feature is that it is built on a dolly, so it’s easy to roll it to the trailer at the end of a long weekend.

As I’m searching for shelving options, I come across the idea of “clamshell cabinets”—essentially two shelving units hinged together. I think this is a great idea, but I think I may need to try my creative hand at this. There are two problems with this design–first, the shelves are right across from each other, so when the cabinet is closed, things can move from one shelf to another, and fall all over upon opening. A lip at the end of each shelf and staggering the shelves will fix that. Second problem – the $1400 price tag. Plus, if I made it, I can use a pin-in-the-hole connection system (like on horse trailer butt bars), meaning I can totally separate the shelves if the tack room set-up would warrant it. Plus I like power tools, and have a quiet week coming up, so I’m primed for the project.

I suspect I’m going to give Doug heart-failure with this idea ….

Despite the messy tack room, the show went really well. We live and compete in Region 1, but as our championships are in November in down in NC, we decided to crash Region 8’s championship this year. This isn’t our home region, so we had no idea how we would stack up against the competition.

We did just fine. Secret, who is an amazingly consistent 66-67% girl, landed us 3^rd in her two open first level classes, and 1^st in 2^nd 3 open. Cara and Ockie had a truly beautiful ride in the open I-1 class on Saturday to earn a 64.xxx and a red ribbon. Figi, Trevelyan Farm’s super-star pony, grew up a lot at this show (she’s only about a year under saddle) and was in the 60’s and either in the ribbons, or just out of them, every class. Plus we squeezed in lessons with Scott with each horse, which had a surprisingly refreshing effect on me. The little shot of training-focus instead of show-results-focus really kept my mind fresh.

Pics will come in the next blog, I promise. I’m waiting for Linda and Catharine’s photos. I’ll consolidate them and post soon.

The Kindness of Strangers, and a Long Ride Home

2010-08-23T05:42:00.000-07:00

It takes a team to create a great show season, and sometimes, it takes a team to just get home from a show. Coming home from Dressage in the Park July 19, the brake petal went to the floor, and I pulled off the road and started calling for help. Here is Linda Butz's recounting of that afternoon. The EMT not only brought us food, she restored my humor, which was no mean feat that day!!!

The Kindness of Strangers

by Linda Butz

Most of you who follow SFD on FB probably know that Ange had truck issues when we left NJ Horse Park last Sunday. We lost the brakes on the truck but Ange managed to safely roll off the road to a flat grassy shoulder that even had some shade. We opened up the trailer-thank goodness the wonderful, new trailer has individual fans-pulled out our chairs and sat down to wait.

We were overwhelmed and tremendously grateful for all the folks who stopped to see if we and the horses were OK. One woman who stopped was a vet and she took a peek at the horses and declared them to be fine-yeah, we knew that, but it was nice of her to care. Another woman who works at the Horse Park took me back to get water for the horses.

The EMT from the show on Sunday stopped to check on us. We assured her we were fine and Ange joked that if we had pizza and beer we’d be set. About 30 minutes later she returned with pizza and soda-refused our money-and said she’d been at the show all day and imagined that we were exhausted and still had a long night ahead.

One woman came by who said she had a farm down the road with horses and that if we needed to, she’d send her husband up with their truck to hitch to the trailer and we could stable the horses overnight with her. People driving everything from motorcycles, convertibles, and trucks stopped constantly to be certain everything was OK.

Our true hero was Cara who after having competed early in the day, taken her horse home, and fed dinner to all the horses at home, drove all the way back in her truck to take us home. At that point we had to unload the horses, who both (including the 4-yr-old) handled the whole thing like the champions they are (to us, at least).

It was a nerve-wracking experience, but it could have been much worse-we weren’t on the Turnpike! It also reaffirms my belief that the vast majority of people in this world, especially horse people, are good, kind, caring, and will go out of their way to help other horsepeople in need.

Thank you all!

July and August Show Results

2010-08-23T05:29:00.000-07:00

Results from most of the Recent Shows

For all of you who are "Fans of SFD" through our Facebook page, you know we've been our usual crazy-busy at the shows. Not fan? Try this link.

To summarize our recent flurry of shows (and to sorta justify why I didn't get a newsletter out last month...) . I know I'm missing a couple, but these are the ones I had easily-accessible results. To compile this list, I plagiarized, edited and elaborated on everyone's Facebook posts -

Aug 15 Fider Run

Cara/Ockie, Ange/Sling

Straight Forward Dressage Ockie won I-1 with a 62.632. She has become dang consistent at a show, both out of a stall and out of trailer.

Sling is growing up - won the 4-year-old test, and brought home red with a 62.8 in training level. Handled it all like a pro.

Aug 11 Recognized Show at Blue Goose

Cara/Ockie, Cara/Figi, Carol/Merrick, Ange/Secret, Ange/Sling

From Cara - Had a great day today at Blue Goose. Figi was such a star! In her first ever first level class she was high score of first level with a 76%! Training 4 she had some mistakes and got a 68.8%. She gets better by the day. Ockie wasn't her best, but got a 61.3% at PSG which is respectable.

From Carol - Merrick won Training 1 at Blue Goose's USDF with a blistering 65.2 Best score he's earned in a long time. He faded after that but one good class is terrific.

From Ange - Secret earned a 63.095 at 2nd 4 and a 68.140 at 2nd 3. She really felt like a 2nd level horse yesterday, I'm really proud of her.

Sling acted like a very mature grown up, earning a 64.4 in the 4-year-old test and a 64.8 at training 3.

From Linda - AND Sling held it together when a horse spooked in warm-up and dumped his riding, bumping Sling in the process. What a good baby! Sun-burned shoulders aside, it was a great day! Bet the horses slept well last night.

July 18-19 show at NJ Horse Park:

Cara/Ockie, Carol/J'y suis, Ange/Secret, Ange/Sling

From Carol - J'y suis won First 3, qualifying for BLMs

From Linda Secret put in a solid show with 3 reds and 1 blue (at Second 4). Ange finally convinced her that the R lead canter single loop in First 4 does not require a flying change and on Sunday she pulled her second qualifying score of 66.316 for regionals!

From Cara - Ockie got a 60.2% in both of her I-1 classes, only her second show at the level.

From Ange - Victoria and Pene started well, then Pene fell in love with Sling, and threw her under the bus. He spent the rest of his show ring time calling to his lover-boy.

From Ange - This was Sling's first outing, and he brought home two blues from the 4-year-old tests. By the end of the weekend, could even handle the big-boy warm up with something that resembled steering :-).

July 7 Recognized show at Blue Goose

Cara/Ockie, Carol/Merrick, Cara/Figi, Ange/Eclipse and Victoria/Pene

Congrats to Cara/Figi, Victoria/Pene, and Carol/Merrick for outriding their teacher at Blue Goose on Wed! You guys make me proud.

Ockie's first time at I-1 for a 63.421 - yes, Cara, you've turned her into a show horse!

Victoria proves that warm-up is overrated by cutting herself too close on time for my comfort, but not for Pene's - 65.667 in First 1 for red, and 66.944 in First 2 for blue.

June 19-20 Crazy weekend

Heavenly Waters - Cara/Ockie, Anita/Dream and Ange/Secret Practical Dressage and Eventing - Carol/Merrick

Recognized Arab show in NJ - Victoria/Pene

From Ange - Everyone brought home a blue!! How cool is that?

From Carol - Pene/Victoria also brought home a Blue. They blistered the competition at an Arab show in NJ.

From Linda - WOW! 5 horses competing and 5 blues. Go SFD!

More from Linda - Secret was her good girl--I love to pampered--self. She blew me away by winning in her first outing at Second level. Now if USDF would only rewrite First-4 to include a flying change we'd be golden. She still had two 67's in that test even with the error. Good luck fixing that one, Ange!

From Ange - O-bird has become such a solid citizen at shows, Cara had to jazz her up before her tests! But it worked, Ockie likes blue :-).

Also from Ange - I'm proud of Carol and Merrick, she has developed Mr. Spook at Shadows into a brave CT horse, she didn't even need a coach this weekend!

Moving news

2010-08-22T06:04:00.001-07:00

For all of you who are "Fans of SFD" through our facebook page, you know we've been our usual crazy-busy at the shows. Not fan? Try this link.

As the gossip chain has correctly reported, yes, Straight Forward Dressage is leaving Red Bridge Farm. Renee Gorman, Ted's widow, has decided to sell, and I can't say as I blame her -- it's a lot of property to manage, and a huge house for just one person. We are currently looking at several facilities. I have large, elaborate pro-con lists for each place, and will be making a decision about which facility shortly. I'll make sure everyone knows as soon as I sign a contract.

Now, to answer a few of the questions floating around.

No, we are not relocating out of state.

No, we haven't been "kicked out," the Gormans and I have been on good terms for our whole stay at Red Bridge, and the parting will be sad. We have known of this for a while, and have been actively looking for a suitable property.

No, I am not interested in staying on at Red Bridge under the new owners--the property is actually two real estate lots, and one of the lots will be developed, and the remaining parcel is a bit too light on turnout for our needs.

Yes, this is lot of stress, but it's the flip side of being a renter. As a renter, last winter when we had 70+ inches of snow, Red Bridge folks made sure the farm was accessible. When the driveway needed repairs from all of the melt, Red Bridge folks had to track down a contractor and get it fixed. My responsibilities have stayed with running my business, not worrying about the property, which has been great. Those are the benefits of renting a facility.

The negative is I have to relocate from time to time. Each relocation has resulted in better facilities and growth for SFD. I'm optimistic about our next home.

Show Results

2010-06-10T04:06:00.000-07:00

Posting show results always comes off a bit arrogant, and I don't want folks to think our barn is one of those snotty, we-win-no-matter-what barns, which we are not. But I am dang proud of my students, my staff, and my horses. Then Liz Peck got some incredible shots at Blue Goose Recognized 1, so that's all the push I needed.

So if you want to skip the boring scores, here's a link to the photos:

http://w834.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http%3A%2F%2Fw834.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fzz263%2Fecpeck04%2FBlue+Goose%2F66503457.pbw

Just to add more voices to the bog, here's everyone's show results, plagorized from the SFD group page on facebook -

From Carol Lippa, Merrick's mom:

Merrick is delving into the season as a multidisciplinary horse. Not quite as brilliant as the pros at Blue Goose, but we had the top score of horses with amateur riders in his first (USDF Training Level) class. And, he did the test with a smile (including green saliva) on his face... Mud sink-holes gave him the heebie-jeebies in his other class, but one of two is SO GOOD FOR MERRICK (What she didn't post is Mer has 3 blues and a red from the CTs hanging on his stall already this season.)

From Laura Juniewicz, who rides her mom's horse, My Valentine, who we all know as Flicka:

The mud stands out in my mind!! Flicka is qualified for GAIG's at Training level now. I can't get the mud outta my britches!! :o( (Funny, she didn't mention the 68% and 64% rides!)

From Cara Klothe:

Figi (Forrest Gund) competed training 3 and 4 at Blue Goose. She was second in both big classes with a 68.8% and 72% respectively. This was her first recognized show, and June will be a year undersaddle. She was a super talented pony. She is owned by Trevelyan Farm.

From Linda Butz, mom of Secret, the super-star I ride:

NJHAHA Show for Secret: 70.571 and 67.105 in First 3&4 on Friday (First Level champion) and 65.143 and 64.211 for the same on Saturday with a different judge. No rain or puddles thank goodness although she wasn't wild about how they had dragged the ring in her first test. Flat spots with no harrow marks look like puddles evidently. Rumor has it that Ange will try second level this weekend at OVCTA. Could be interesting... (she was a pickle at the OVCTA show - she did not appreciate not being braided and not having a stall. Mares.)

Running a Business Part 1

2010-05-31T04:39:00.000-07:00

I love to ride, and wanted to learn to ride better. That’s how this all got started. College left me a bit fried, so I decided to take a year off to ride before going to vet school. So I packed my dogs and cat and belongings into a Budget moving truck and headed south. One year turned into 4, with 3 different working student positions, and when I had enough of those arrangements, I entered the horse world as a “professional.”

Now keep in mind, I went off to learn to ride. Not to run a business, but to ride.

In fairness, Claudia Garner, tried very hard to get me to focus on the business side of it – we spent time discussing promoting myself, creating a professional image, etc. And John Krueger made efforts to go over the numbers of running a business with me. I paid attention, but none of this prepared me for the hardest parts of running a business.

So I thought I’d write a bit about my process of trying to learn to be a boss. This will take a few posts, so here’s the first.

Staff Skills Part 1

Yea, horses are easy, people are hard. As any of you that know me in real life know, I’m probably not the most user-friendly person. I try to be, honest I do, but my red-headed sarcastic side dominates most communication. Combine that with a rather blunt honesty, and I spend a lot of time with my foot in my mouth. When I was 20, everyone said tact would come with age. If this is true, at my current rate of improved-tactfulness, I’m not sure I will live long enough.

If dressage teaches us anything, it teaches us to practice, to study, and to get help. A funny thing about help, it tends to show up on its own time and place. Like this video, about what motivates people, showed up in a French horn blog I follow. Not exactly what I was expecting when I went looking for advice on improving my horn playing, but cross-training is good, even cross-training of advice.

I watched the marker go over the board (why is watching anyone draw so completely addictive???), he hit the point of what motivates people. As a boss in the oh-so-lucrative horse industry, his points that increased monetary incentive does not cause increased production is, frankly, a huge relief.

Then he talks about what does motivate staff. In short, the video says staff is happiest and most creative when they are left to be happy and creative, without their boss breathing over their shoulder. This rings true with me. I am always at my most productive when I generate the idea and have minimal oversight in getting it done. My inner boss thinks I should follow this idea.

My inner boss has presented me with quite a challenge.

You see, when I really look at the business of SFD, there’s the boss I want to be, and the boss I see myself becoming.

The pictures don’t really match.

Let’s be real, I’m a Dressage Geek. This defines me as a red-headed, type-A, detail-oriented control freak who knows she is right. Trusting others with details is tough. Especially since these are MY training horses, MY business, MY dream. Heck, I hired Cheryle specifically to help me with the details of all of my crazy ideas. But do I allow room for other folks ideas? Probably not.

SFD, which turned 5 this month, has grown beyond me. Somehow, the MY needs to become OUR. I need to figure out how to inspire ideas, then quit micro-managing, and trust my staff to be as motivated and high-standarded (is that a word? It should be) as I am.

I write this as I am preparing for a breakfast staff meeting. The meeting was originally set to go over feed stuff, but somehow I think this topic will trickle in. I’ll let you know how.

Pictures from the Region 1 Adult Dressage Symposium

2010-05-16T20:26:00.000-07:00

Yea, Secret has an amazing canter.

Cara and I watched from the doorway, so we could stand in the warm sun :-)

Charlotte stressed that the walk work had to have lots of forward movement with a round neck, and had us spend our breaks in the extended walk instead of the free walk.

I know my head is cut off, but look at her balance!

Secret and I grooming each other is a regular ritual, at home and away. This horse is such a joy.

Clinic Report - Region 1 Adult Dressage Symposium with Charlotte Baker

2010-05-16T20:19:00.001-07:00

Clinics are risky. No matter how well you do your homework, you won’t know if you, your horse, and the clinician will be a good fit until the lesson actually starts. In a regular lesson, if it’s a bad fit, you can just head home and forget about it. But clinics usually come with auditors, so if it goes badly, well, it goes badly in public.

The good news is the Region 1 Adult Dressage Symposium’s clinician, Charlotte Baker, and Secret and I were a good fit.

Secret is not a warmblood. She is a Friesian/Arabian cross, which means she has the drama of the Friesian with the intelligence of the Arabian.

Unfortunately, she also has the upright neck of the Friesian with the tight back of the Arabian. Many clinicians have seen that neck and missed the tight back. Those clinicians have coached me to lengthen my reins, with the goal of getting Secret’s neck as long as possible. But with her tight back, that just doesn’t work. We end up with her poll getting low, her nose coming behind the vertical, and her strides getting quick.

But Charlotte wasn’t going to make that mistake.

Charlotte immediately identified Secret’s problem (and neatly coached the auditors into also seeing) as a need for more suppleness in the back, and set to work loosening the dramatic little black mare. She gave us several leg yield exercises, from the standard leg yield from centerline to the rail in trot and canter, nose to the wall leg yield in trot, and a nifty leg yield from x to the corner followed by a canter depart. She followed that up with some lateral work in trot. These worked like a charm, and Secret’s back got softer and softer, and her neck came longer and longer.

Then Charlotte wanted to see our counter canter. Counter canter has been our nemesis ever since last fall, when I started playing with lead changes. I have put the lead changes on the shelf, but Secret, in that wonderful I-can-do-whatever-my-human-wants-if-I-just-try-a-little-harder mare attitude, still wants to show off her new trick. She will maintain counter canter from the walk without anticipating a lead change, but if we change directions from true canter to counter canter, well, Secret knows exactly where to put the lead change, whether I cue it or not. The right lead is significantly more prone to random lead swapping. And the more pressure we add (like a clinic or a show), harder she tries, and the more she swaps leads.

Charlotte has this great technique for when things go wrong. Instead of trying to push through it, she steps back and breaks the exercise into its component parts – the buttons that need to work in order for the exercise to be easy for the horse. After a little exploring, we found that, when in the right lead canter, Secret’s reaction to my left leg is to tighten her topline and hurry, throwing her off balance. Then she uses the lead change to correct her balance.

Then Charlotte did something uncharacteristic in a clinician. She broke the rules. She said “Generally, we don’t want to have a horse go with his haunches in while cantering, but for this horse, this is the correct correction.” She did an excellent job of making sure everyone understood why this unconventional correction was correct.

We put Secret on a circle and worked with her to get her to give me haunches in on the circle, while maintaining her tempo, and bend, and a soft neck. This was no easy feat. Charlotte tactfully interspersed humor when things started to get tight with an “On the bit? Oh, yea, that too.” Maybe Secret wasn’t the only over-achiever in the ring…

We didn’t get it 100% at the clinic, but the amount of suppleness we did create gave us a much better collected canter. In the week working with this since the clinic, she has gotten much more supple and relaxed about my left leg. I have not tried any challenging counter-canter lines yet, as Charlotte’s advice for me was to focus just on the canter haunches in for a little bit, then go back to the counter canter.

On day two of the clinic, Secret’s soft back and longer neck proved that Charlotte was on the right path. We continued with more suppleness work, this time utilizing bend changes in the lateral work (shoulder in to renvers, half pass to leg yield). We also spent some time playing with transitions within the canter. Charlotte made Linda, Secret’s owner, and I beam like kids at Christmas with the words “this mare has a lot of ability in the collected canter.” Watch out warmbloods!

In addition to my lessons, I took pages of notes, writing down the different suppleness-generating exercises Charlotte used for each level. My horses at home have been reaping the benefits.

Thank you USDF, for making this excellent clinician affordable, to OVCTA’s great organizing, and Hassler Dressage for their incredible footing (the barn is nice too). The clinic was truly a joy.

Here we go Again

2010-05-06T19:52:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I head down to Hassler’s to ride in the Region 1 Adult Dressage Symposium. The clinician is Charlotte Baker.

When I first heard that Secret and I had been accepted, it was a couple weeks after the Klimke clinic, and my first reaction was “Oh no… not again.” But this clinic will go better.

For starters, this week ran smoothly. It was packed to the gills, which is pretty normal for this time of year, but no major disasters occurred (yet), which is good. I haven’t slept on the barn floor once this week.

Plus this time I’m going with friends. Cara was also selected, so she, Linda and I got a room at the guest house. I know several other riders as well.

But most importantly, I know I am a skilled trainer. My happy, progressing horses say so. And no two-legged authority figure is going to override their opinions. If it all falls apart and I ride poorly in front of an audience again, the sun will rise the next day, and I put my breeches on, and go to the barn and ride. I ride because I love to ride, and no one’s opinion will take that away from me.

I won’t make that mistake again.

And if I do, may every one of you point me back to this blog.

A barn in limbo

2010-04-19T04:42:00.000-07:00

Well, it has happened again. Once again, SFD is looking for a home base.

We have been here before. McKinley Hunt, our last home, came with an awesome landlord, Sue Brown. Shortly after we moved in, Sue decided to retire and build a house in NM. The sale of McKinley prompted our move to Red Bridge, which, by and large, has worked out very well. That is, until now.

As most everyone knows, our landlord passed away in late December. His widow and son-in-law have been doing a great job of keeping the place up, but she just doesn’t want to live in that big house without her husband. I can’t say as I blame her. So Red Bridge is on the market.

As of now, we don’t have a deadline, but I’d rather be pro-active than re-active. I’ve been running numbers, comparing available facilities, making my pro-and-con lists. Each move has given us better facilities than our last home, and I expect nothing less this time. Red Bridge has some wonderful strengths, and we’d like our next home to have those strengths, plus a bit more.

The shopping list gets clearer with each move. We need:

An indoor and an outdoor

Larger, better ventilated stalls

Not too far from my main-line clients

Heated bathroom, preferably with a shower (I can live without this, but I REALLY like not crunching with sweat if I have to do something after my rides)

A variety in sizes and topography in turnout (some small, flat spaces for the hotter horses, a hilly pasture for weak-stifles

A place to hack out and do conditioning

An apartment for my most-awesome-groom, Lynn

Be priced so I don’t have to charge an arm and a leg for board

The I-wish-I could-have-everything list includes automatic waters in pastures and easy stall watering, logical tack room-laundry-grooming area set-up, and is designed so we never need a wheelbarrow or hose, but I think that will have to wait.

So that has been my last week or so, talking to people about facilities, looking at spreadsheets, comparing facilities.

On the horse front, the rehabs are coming along really well. Colonel, the old guy who survived a nasty puncture wound and subsequent hock surgery, is beating the odds and coming back. Venus started light work this week (YEA!!! YEA!!! YEA!!!), and the therapeutic ultrasound has worked miracles in the thickness of her injured tummy muscle.

The competition horses are knocking my socks off. Adding hill work in the springtime always makes horses more forward, but Eclipse and Secret have really benefited. Both of them had all of the technical stuff for their levels, just needed a bit more fitness. The hills gave them uphill, suspended fitness. When I ride, it feels like I’m bouncing on a kid’s jolly ball, and I grin as much as a 4-year-old. Eclipse came through a tough workout Friday with more gas in the tank – a marked improvement from last year.

We have another spring schooler at Red Bridge this weekend, then Sunday we hit our first recognized show. I’ll post pics next week.

Michael Klimke clinic March 2010, part 2

2010-04-11T19:37:00.000-07:00

This is the second part of a two-part post -- check out the previous post for the first part of it.
_________________________________________________

Which he did, but not until he had valiantly tried to correct my hands and seat enough that she would reach forward and downward. As an instructor, I understand why he took that approach, and in my stiff-and-stressed-out state, my seat and hands gave him lots of areas to correct.

The more he corrected, the deeper I tried to sit, the stiffer my back got, and the more frustrated his tone got. Once I heard the frustration in his voice, my favorite “I’m nervous so I think I’ll ride badly habits” showed up. You know, those pet bad habits that lie dormant for months and months until you are lulled into thinking you have finally banished them, only to find that once you get nervous, they pop right back up.

For me, when I’m nervous, the neuropathways between my brain and my right side shut down.

This time it started with my hand position. No matter what I told my right hand to do, it didn’t do it. Instead it did all sorts of random things, things I would never ask it to do. Really, would any self-respecting dressage rider ride with her right hand nearly touching her thigh? I know I didn’t tell my right hand to do that, especially not in front of Klimke and 80 auditors. But sure enough, that’s where my right hand kept drifting. I’d tell my right hand to come back up, and two strides later, like some rebellious teenager, it’d go sneaking down to my thigh again.

Then there was my right leg. On a normal day, my right leg is my weaker leg. I know I’m riding well when my right thigh is slightly more tired than my left one. Which thankfully, is more often than not. But I wasn’t riding well, so my right leg didn’t even join me on the horse. I might as well have been wearing a prosthetic. My calf wouldn’t stay connected to Secret sides, no matter how hard I tried. The more I pushed my knee down, the more my calf would pop off and slide forward.

Then my inner critic kicked in. Every time Klimke tried to improve my position, my inner critic destroyed it. By 15 minutes into the lesson, I went from being on top of the world for being selected for this clinic, to feeling like the weakest dressage rider in the clinic, to feeling like the weakest dressage rider ever.

While I’m beating myself up, Klimke decided to try using transitions within and between the gait to get Secret more through her topline. She reacted by getting tighter in front of the saddle, doing a very effective impression of a chess piece. I could practically hear her thinking, “Aunt Ange, this isn’t what we usually do, but if this is what you want, well, ok...”

Klimke, being German, was not one to mince words. He made it clear what he thought—“Your hands and your seat are not good enough.” This, of course, got my inner voice screaming, “Well that advice doesn’t really help, does it???” But I kept smiling and riding, hoping my thoughts didn’t show too clearly.

Once we got to the canter work, things improved. Secret has an amazing canter, naturally very uphill and balanced, and my canter seat is better than my trot seat. As the work improved, I was able to gain control of my right hand and leg, and began to think maybe I was letting Secret show everyone how awesome she is. We worked on the canter-walk-canter transition, and it improved significantly by the end of the ride.

But by day two, Secret was tired of my stiff back and the different training approach. She came into the ring tight and fussy, and seemed determined to stay that way. Klimke kept changing exercises in a vain attempt to get us to settle.

But nothing really worked. I tried to ride all bent lines in shoulder fore. I tried riding the lines straighter. I tried a lighter seat. I tried a stronger seat. Klimke kept stopping the lesson to talk, which I quickly learned is Klimke-ease for “this isn’t working at all.” My mind was going 100 miles an hour, between “c’mon Secret, please” and “Ange, friggin’ ride better,” and “Can we try something else? Like tennis?” But nothing worked.

We had one shining medium trot mid way through the ride, but when we got to counter canter, she was through with all of us.

Klimke started the counter canter work with Friday’s exercise. Secret did the same as she had done on Friday—counter canter nicely to the corner, then swap leads (cleanly, I must say). So he had me bring her to walk, then counter canter again. And she swapped leads again. And again. And again. And again. The movie “Groundhogs Day” was playing right there at Riveredge West. My inner voice was screaming, “enough already!” Secret kept getting more and more tense.

After what seemed like hours, Klimke finally simplified the exercise enough that we could at least end on counter canter instead of an un-cued flying change. At the end, he patted her on the neck and said he hoped he hadn’t messed up her canter.

Then Scott Hassler picked up the microphone and said “I want to commend Ange on her composure and tact.” And with that, my red-headed-bad-ass facade cracked. I cried.

Yes, me.

I wanted the ground to open and eat me alive.

But of course it didn’t. I survived. We watched a few more rides, then packed up and headed home.

After the clinic I was in a funk.

I looked at the still photos, and I really didn’t look that bad, but that didn’t help. I watched the video snippet on the Internet, and Secret looked good, but that didn’t help either. I couldn’t get past Klimke labeling my seat and hands “not good enough.” I was second-guessing my aids, picking my seat apart, and generally feeling sorry for myself.

With all of this negative mental baggage, I continued to pretty much ride for crap until I saw Scott for a lesson two weeks later. By then, my trainer-ego was battered from my unending self-flagellation. But Scott had watched the same lessons, and he saw tough training sessions, not embarrassingly ineffective riding. His words helped me put it in perspective. In typical Scott fashion, he ended it with “You be you.”

He is right. I am me, and these hands and seat are my tools, tools that have a track record of serving me well. That weekend, I was not at my best. That weekend aside, my tools have brought a lot of horses up the levels, many who lacked the natural Warmblood balance and looseness. Heck, several weren’t even born with clean gaits. But somehow my “not good enough” hands and seat taught them how to become solid competition horses with piles of year-end awards.

So what did I get out of the clinic? I don’t ride well when my world is crumbling, but then who does? And my daily track record of riding well, using and re-using and re-using all of the lessons I have learned, trumps one weekend of riding poorly in front of a big-name expert.

And Venus? Now, seven weeks after her accident, we are pretty sure Venus will return to a dressage career.

The Honda, though, will forever wear the mark of my horrible week.