Clean Jacket

Despite horizontal rain we were out hunting again yesterday. For the first time out for a proper hunt I managed to stay on over all the jumps. We were out in the saddle over two hours, only returning when the HUNTSMAN declared it was running down his crack and we had demonstrated quite enough British phlegm.

In just a month of hunting my weight has dropped by a stone. Who says the horse does all the work.

The Fear

Rain fell heavily this morning as we got ready to go hunting.

Despite the sun coming out as we headed North the Fells still hid their tops in iron grey clouds. I think MONSTER knew what was coming and unloaded herself from the wagon.

RIDER tried to encourage me to stay up the front in case the field got split, though as we set off up the lane I was scared. Last week my final fence had resulted in a fall. With no opportunity to clear one before home my fall was at the back of my mind. So as the main field set off over early fences I found myself wimping out and hanging back, glad to take the gate option.

MONSTERS brakes totally failed this week. The idea that Hunting=Galloping has finally worked it's way into her think Irish head. Once an idea gets there it's well and truly stuck until another one finally comes along to replace it. I'm not sure that anything is going to replace this one. It's not all bad though. She's learnt since last week to be tidy with her feet, and not just over fences. A lot less stumbling this week and a lot more sure-footed. Shame about the manners.

A hip-flask moment arrived after a couple of small jumps finally let me into it, and I felt no desire for Dutch courage. I expressed my fears of jumping to one of the field, CHEERY IRISHMAN, who told me not to worry about the fences and just remember the feeling I got on the other side of them. So far this is usually a case of "Thank Fuck for that, I'm still alive!". Well, I suppose that's what it's all about really, and the moment I stop being scared I know I should stop. Reckless does not equal brave.

And so I resolved to stayed with the head of the field for a few.

There is no theme park ride on the planet that compares. Heels down, toes forward and lean back got me a long way. Expletives and slipping the reins did the rest but did nothing to haul MONSTER up between fences. Did I mention that she's learnt to be tidy with her feet? She's also learnt to expect the unexpected. Spread? Stretch. Hedge? Tuck your feet up. Drop on landing? Oxygen masks will fall from the ceiling and the exit doors are here, here and here...

Somehow, and I still don't know how! I managed to stay on board. CHEERY IRISHMAN held back for me when we finally got a chance to slow down, asked me how I felt now, and offered me his flask. Yes thank you, I'll take the Dutch courage after that. Which is probably why I came off at the next fence. For consistency I managed to come off once on the take-off side and once on landing. Again MONSTER merely came to a halt and looked quizzically down at me as if to ask what I was doing amongst the field mushrooms.

Back on board there was no let up and I had to make it over a couple more fences before the day was over. I couldn't believe that we'd been out so long. The field split in two to head home, braver souls than I heading for a fence reputed to be four feet at least.

I'll ride back with the women and children thanks...

Gallop?

SCENE:

A riding school. A man who has never ridden before is being led out to horse.

MAN: Will I be able to gallop?

INSTRCTOR:Riding is about learning the mental as well as the physical aspects. That's what we teach here. Safety is everything. Horses are animals and they can react differently every day. You need to be able to sense that and adjust your riding accordingly. That, perhaps more than being able to gallop, is what it's about.

Wrong answer. The right answer is

FUCK YEAH YOU'LL GALLOP!

The Best of Days

Frankly I'm amazed that half the county didn't turn up at the hunt on Saturday. Out to FARRIER on Friday afternoon for a shoeing and every phone call he's encouraging someone to come.

While we have our own nicknames at home for the horses FARRIER of course has his own, THE FELLA is known as CHESTERS, the NAUGHTY PONY is TWINKLETOES, and MONSTER is COLOURS. Or rather she was. Ever since I went out on my first hound exercise he's taken to calling her TOP HUNTER. He may joke, but we had the last laugh.

NAUGHTY PONY lost two shoes on exercise, so naturally we took the urine rather a little. FARRIER gives as good as he gets, and walks up to MONSTER announcing that he's going to fit her with special hunting shoes.

"Those the ones with extra nails?", I ask.

"And bootlaces to help hold them on", RIDER adds.

There was much good-natured bluster from FARRIER, but as usual he did a sterling job on all three horses, all the while inviting the world to come out hunting.

Saturday we had a Jane from Neighbours moment. You know the one. The dull looking girl from class suddenly takes off her glasses and puts some make up on for the prom. And how! MONSTER was plaited, for the first time ever. I couldn't believe I was looking at the same horse, and I was proud as a proud thing before the meet as folk came up and said how good looking she was. Her manners and behaviour in company were impeccable too. As the field got together and the hounds appeared MONSTER stayed as quiet as the proverbial lamb.

FARRIER is a joint master and besides offering us drinks when we arrived he came back before the off to check that I was OK, which was a nice touch. It was only once we crossed the road from the pub (naturally) and walked into the first field that she started to quiver with excitement. With the hounds and huntsman at the front the field was lined up abreast agains the wall, with a crowd of supporters behind us.

Then, with the drag still visible disappearing into a distant copse, the hounds were off and we were away. There really was something special about seeing, and hearing! the hounds streaming across the horizon in full flight, with the huntsman following. The first canter took us up hill, and I was able to let the brakes off fully and give MONSTER her head.

There was no gentle introduction as within minutes we tackled, a bigger upright than I'd ever seen before, followed by a wall. Fortunately it was a step up so the drop on landing was only a couple of feet. Then to my horror the trail turned around and we had to do the wall backwards. This way there was at least a three foot drop. No matter that small children on Thelwell ponies were clearing it, I was scared. I needn't have worried and, picking a suitable moment so that I didn't get stuck behind a horse that looked likely to refuse we were over it and away again.

There followed an hour and a half of exhilaration. Moments reminded me of mountain biking, my first love. Haring through the woods on a track just wide enough for the pair of us, and barely tall enough for her ears. Gate stops where hip flasks full of Malt and home made sloe gin are passed around. Other moments were abject terror. Doing the gate and falling so far behind the field that MONSTER was stopping for nothing was followed by minutes of terror as she set off in pursuit and damn the terrain in between. If the field wheeld around so that we had to change direction the g-forces nearly had me out the side door.

The worst moment came after clearing a wall only to find that there was a fence just two strides away. We cleared it only to find that it led down to a dead end. I'd missed the gate option and was stuck! There was no way back over the fence against the flow of the field, and the way ahead was over a log into water that wouldn't have looked out of place at a three-star^*. Even FARRIER was thinking twice about it and looking for an alternative. After circling MONSTER once I realised that if we didn't tackle it now I'd not have the bravery to try it again, and if I so much as hesitated she'd never get over it. I spotted a suitable gap in the hesitant field and went for it. I slipped the reins in case she pecked and I may have shut my eyes.

When I opened them again we were in the water, heading for a stupid large bank. Without me pulling on her reins to slow her up she was up and off like a rocket. It was only a shame that there was a hunt jump over the wall on my right which we missed, forcing us to circle, otherwise I might have fooled those behind that either of us had any idea what we were doing. By now more of the field was over the fence and away, which gave MONSTER something to chase. For a good mile we galloped after the field, passing them all until on the field master remained in front of us. Even a novice height ski-jump^** couldn't slow our progress, and it was only when we reached the master and hounds that we were finally able to get our breath back. When he caught up FARRIER came over to congratulate us both on tackling the water. I was just so proud of MONSTER for getting us over it alive.

The water jump had split the field, and I now found myself in with those that were a little braver, and/or reckless. You choose. More galloping ensued, and on the final fence before second horses MONSTER pecked on landing and I hit the deck. It had only been a matter of time. I managed to hold onto the reins, and as usual as I came slithering to a halt on the green sward she looked down at me with a "What are you doing down there?" expression. I was relieved that rather than chasing after the rapidly disappearing field she spared a thought for me. While I can fault her manners when I'm riding I can't fault her manners when I fall off.

Once back on board I set off after the field, in the distance cooling off their horses in the river. after another hipflak moment the field walked and trotted back to second horses, where RIDER was waiting with the Masters spare. Together with such of the field that was calling it a day we rode the mile back to the boxes. I couldn't stop grinning and pointing out to RIDER where we'd been. RIDER couldn't believe the things we'd been over. Frankly neither could I. MONSTER watched the field ride away, obviously wanting to stay out with them. Later when she's fitter and I know the countryside well enough to turn round at any point she can ride out longer. Quitting while we felt like we could do more was a good idea. Then, for all her wanting to stay out MONSTER practically boxed herself once she'd been brushed and showered.

Recounting the day to the Field Master while sat in autumn sunlight outside the pub we joked about my moment of fear as we'd nearly overtaken her.

"I was horrified that there was going to be a serious breach of etiquette". I said.

"You mean a bollocking", she replied quick as a flash.

Together, we all laughed.

* There is some exaggeration here, but not much.

** There's no exaggeration here at all!

Dressage to Music - How Not To Do It

The world is not short of websites and instructional videos telling the uninformed how to go about their foray into dressage to music, though I'd recommend equiworld.net.

All these instructional sites/videos/expensive consultants tell the rider how to use a metronome, perform gait analysis, and match the tempo of the music to the horses gait so that the whole forms a pleasing picture. For many sites it is the FIRST thing you do.

So what does a fired up dressage rider who fancies themselves as the new Anky Van Grunsven (and I'm including both sexes here) misty eyed with visions of themselves doing the kur while Elton John looks on lovingly as they wow the crowds at London 2012 do? They throw said advice out of the window, choose their three favourite records and botch them together with string. Sod the fact that the songs don't mix at all with each other. Never mind that the tempo of the music doesn't match their horse. Who cares that no horse on the planet can walk in time to Dire Straits "Walk of Life" they think, when it is such a good pun. Hello! This Just In! It looks shit, it's not funny anywhere except in your own tiny mind, and it makes you look like a middle of the road bore with a crap sense of humour.

I really don't understand why the judges don't mark the artistic segment more harshly when it is obvious that the horse and rider are not in time to the music, and I'm including perrenial dressage favourites Abba and Robbbie Williams here. Tip to judges who are apparently oblivious to this. Watch the riders seat. If it doesn't match the tempo of the music neither does the horse. Take up to two points off in each gait depending on how far out the tempos are. Extra marks deducted for bad puns.

Frankly I'm amazed that there isn't more Donna Summer.

Camp As

I don't normally like to show myself on here, but I had to laugh out loud at this "Camp As ..." photo taken as I helped RIDER get ready for dressage...

Look like I should be the one in the dressage saddle with that quality mince.

Lessons

As well as being a huge amount of fun hound exercise has been a series of lessons for MONSTER and I.

I have improved my seat, and she has learnt not to hoon off all the time. She has finally twigged that there will be plenty of opportunities for cantering and galloping so she needn't take each one as if it's her last. Which is A Good Thing, as in the first couple of outings her noseband rubbed her chin raw, and she is now being ridden without.

Our last outing was a breakfast meet at Kennels, followed by some fun in the woods. Both of us tackled our first brush spread and our first bullfinch. Not quite sure that MONSTER has got the idea that you can jump through them rather than over them but I'm sure we'll get there. At least I stayed on.

At the end of the meet I rode down the village high street back to the wagon carrying a bacon sandwich for the RIDER. I can imagine the irate letters to the Daily Mail right now from drivers upset that they are no longer allowed to use their mobile phone while supposedly in charge of a vehicle, yet there I was carrying a cooked breakfast in one hand, loose reins in the other.

In preparation for hunting proper MONSTER and I have had a lesson in jumping at which it was revealed that I have been a lazy bugger trying to save my back and it is my fault that MONSTER tows and leans into corners. Rather amazingly I never fell off and only ended up on her neck once.

In other news we have made it onto the front page of the Hunt website already. We're easy to spot amongst the bays and chestnuts.