A Lesson:
Today, Rosie and I had an o.k. lesson. Rosie and I have a show coming up Oct 3 and have decided we are ready to move up another level (alright only 3", but hey...). Julie(One of my favorite people, Gabbi you are DEFINITELY top on my favorite person list but...) in the world watched as well.
We started out with groundwork and I am really proud of both Rosie and me. We have come such a long way in our flat work and could now potentially consider actually entering a dressage test. After working quite a bit on flat work, we moved onto lengthening and shortening strides over fences. The way we did this is: we set out 4 ground poles (each pole approximately 2 ft long) on opposite sides of each other, forming the ends of an X. Starting at a trot, we came around to one side of the X, took a "leap" stride over the pole and then lengthened her stride to make the next ground pole in a 2 stride distance. Then come around and head down the other side of the X and do the same. Rosie and I MASTERED 2 strides! It was perfect!
"Now shorten to 3!," came Nancy's voice. Ohhhh crap.
So we come around to face the X again, starting in a trot. "leap" stride, 1 stride, 2 stride, CLUNK! ...Yah...
To better explain, in order to fit in 3 strides in a 2 stride space, you have to drastically shorten the canter stride. By drastically, I mean shorten it by 2-5 ft! So, after doing the leap stride into the combination, you have to shorten, shorten, shorten. Rosie and I can lengthen beautifully. Shortening the stride is another matter entirely! We get the leap stride, 1st stride gets sort of shortened, 2nd stride a little bit more and then we can't hardly ever manage to shorten enough to throw in one more stride. We have gotten close, but its never quite graceful. We'll eventually get it!
At the end of our lesson, Rosie and I jumped to new heights, literally. On October 3, we have our last show of the summer/fall season (as far as I know) and we both feel ready to move up a class. This coming Sunday, we have enrolled in one 2' class, two 2'3" classes and (*drum roll....) a 2'6" CLASS!! For the first time today, Rosie and I schooled 2'6". And guess what?
WE JUMPED IT!
At first it wasn't very graceful, but with patient, diligent work, by the end of the lesson, Rosie and I were gracefully jumping the verticals. I can't even explain how magnificent of a feeling jumping is. For a few precious seconds, both horse and rider are airborne. Both in sync (usually), flying through the air. Then the pull of gravity brings reality crashing back down. Rosie and I began jumping 6" cavaletties and ground poles. Now? We are flying over 2'6". I have always dreamed of jumping higher and higher, but the reality of actually jumping this high and succeeding is beyond words! I can't wait for this weekend. I have a good feeling about this show and Sunday just isn't coming fast enough!
A Life Lesson:
So, today (Friday) hasn't been all that great of day anyway, but to make matters worse, I learned a life lesson....the painful way. This afternoon, Rosie and my lesson was supposed to start at 6:00 p.m. The time we actually started was 7:30 p.m. The reason, you ask? Well, since Gabbi acquired a trailer and I have had the luxury of not hauling my stuff back and forth, I have had to add another item to the mental checklist I run through before heading out to the barn. That item? Trailer keys. Let's just say I didn't run through my checklist all that thoroughly before heading out today.
The story begins at 5:30 p.m. this afternoon. I am driving with my dad out to the barn. We are right on time and life is good. Its warm, sunny and there's a gentle breeze blowing through the open sunlit car. 20 minutes later, we reach the barn in good time and just as I am getting out of the car, I glance at the trailer and my lofty feeling suddenly drops and turns into the "Oh, shit" feeling. I turn to my dad sitting peacefully in the passenger seat and say,"I forgot the trailer keys..."
Yah, that's right. I am 20 minutes from home, supposed to be getting ready for a lesson and the trailer containing ALL my tack is locked in the trailer. I desperately call Gabbi, hoping she might be my knight in shining armor. Nope, dear Gabbi was unavailable. So, with much moaning and groaning and cursing (on my behalf), I turn the car around and my dad and I head back home. Back at home, I race into the house, grab my keys and turn the car around and off we are again...back to the barn. Luckily in the midst of all this, I manage to remember to call Nancy and let her know I'll be a 'bit' late. Sure enough, the minute I pull out of the barn, guess who pulls in? Yup, Nancy. By the time I get back, Nancy has set up the jump course and made the rounds talking to other boarders at the barn. By the time I get Rosie tacked and ready, its 7:30 p.m. and dark outside. So, life lesson??? DON'T FORGET YOUR TRAILER KEYS!!
A Midnight Story:
After our lesson, Nancy left and Rosie and I finally had time to ourselves. Of course it was dark outside, but we didn't care. I stripped off Rosie's tack, brushed and cooled her down and then we had a quiet moment just to ourselves. Rosie's content chewing on the apple I was holding/giving to her. She finished the apple and we meandered over to the hay loft. The full moon cast a spotlight around the hay barn and with Rosie ripping at the tightly bound hay bales, we basked in the friendly light. Rosie finally decided she wanted to rejoin her pasture buddies and so with a hug and a great big kiss I let her go. Now here comes the breathless part of the story. This part of the story is forever etched into my mind and heart. After I let Rosie loose, she turned tail and galloped towards the end of her pasture to rejoin her buddies. The moon was angled in such a way that I could just barely make out the pasture in front of me, but what was even cooler was that all the light colored things could be seen, almost eerie. As Rosie galloped off, she faded into the darkness. All that was left to indicate she had been there was her dust trail. Hanging suspended in the air, reflecting the moon light. When I could no longer see Rosie, I stood at the pasture gate and just listened. Rosie began a conversation with a few of the horses and then it became silent. I strained to see something, anything.
And then I heard it. At first I thought it was thunder. But it became continuous. Louder and louder, heavier and heavier. Then I knew what it was.
Hoof beats...
The horses were stampeding and I couldn't see them. They got closer and closer and I was soon able to see the fine dust being thrown up into the air by their hooves. Then...I saw them. It was like I was in a movie. When I could make them out, the moon half shone down on them, making them look like ghosts. They were finally at the front of the pasture and without slowing down they turned away from the fence, almost simultaneously, and with Rosie in the lead. The dust was the clearest thing you could see. It was illuminated by the moon and almost glittered. The horses broke the gallop and came down to a prancing trot and the stampede dispersed. With horses snorting, they began to return to normal except one. An adorable white Arabian, with tail raised, legs prancing and nostrils flared, proudly pranced near to where I was standing. I was standing behind a post and so I don't think he saw me, but I could be wrong. This split second was like I was the main character, the girl in Flicka looking up at the wild stallion. A silent, strung out moment where everything is paused, just for a second. Then the Arab decided he was done showing off and the moment passed as he rejoined the meandering herd.
For a moment, all I could do was just stand there. I was afraid to breath. I watched until the dust settled and then glanced at the glowing moon. It shone gallantly. I then turned and walked back to the trailer and that was that. I will never forget that moment and I know almost for certain, that one day that scene will be reenacted on screen. Although no reenactment can portray that moment perfectly and has breathtaking as it was in that moment in time, it will come close!
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