Hands up and out

Working it out on the longe.

We’ve continued to have some seriously variable weather lately – last week we started with pouring rain and temperatures in the 50’s,  only to have  a 40 degree drop over one 24 hour period, plunging us back into the deep freeze.   We’ve had some silly equine behavior to contend with, but for the most part, Derby has been fine, despite the fact that he and Remy aren’t moving around much at all in their turn out.  They’re smart boys – there are some slick spots out there.

Our rides have been similarly up and down. We’ve had some really great ones, and then some others that were marked by tension.  Saturday I didn’t ride at all, because he had a case of bats in his belfry.  Between lack of exercise and sharply cooler weather, my usually cool cucumber was totally wired, spooking on the longe line the ice falling off the roof and the barn doors opening.  Though I was disappointed that I didn’t get to ride, I did take the opportunity to do groundwork.  Here’s a video clip of some of the longing.  I was pleased that despite his enthusiasm, Derby was also listening, allowing me to half-halt him with my voice, and doing nice upward and downward transitions.  However, midway through the video, you see one of the spooks, and he takes off in a spectacularly awful canter, with different leads fore and aft.

Sunday was a weird day, marked by a sad turn of events when an elderly retiree died suddently in his pasture.  Though it appeared that he went quickly (not 45 minutes after I had walked by him and said hello on my way to fetch Derby), it was still upsetting, and then there was the unsavory task of moving the deceased from his paddock to the front drive for the livestock removal folks.  I didn’t want to be mounted while all that was going on next to the arena, so Derby enjoyed a flake of hay after I tacked him up.  We ended up having a pretty decent ride, but nothing earth-shattering.   I still rode tentatively and Derby was offering bucks when I touched him with the whip or my pencil-eraser sized spur.

Before my lesson last night, I had Christy check his back, because I was getting to the point where I didn’t trust myself anymore.  He’s seemed a bit back sore at lately, and I tried a variety of pad and saddle combinations on him to little avail.   I’ve been waffling back and forth, wondering if some of the issues around resistance and cooperation were a symptom of some saddle fit issues, or a symptom that would be best remedied by some wet saddle pads and a good thwack on the rump every now and then.   Christy removed my doubts. She poked and prodded, and as she increased the pressure, he yawned and stretched his neck.  He thought he was getting a massage.

Wonderful.  I got on, feeling much better now that some uncertainty had been removed.  And Derby sensed it right away, setting of in a marching walk, and offering no foolishness. While we warmed up, we worked on my position and my bad habit of letting my reins get long and then pulling them toward my hips.  The issue du jour for me is carrying my hands properly.

As we warmed up, we worked on getting Derby to come through at the walk, which improves when I sit up, engage my core, use my inside leg and stay out of his mouth.  When I get it right we go from this:

To this – a much nicer, more engaged walk.

We then moved to trot, still focusing on throughness and activating Derby’s hind legs, while requiring me to keep my hands where they belong.  As I’ve witnessed before, the horse is absolutely willing to meet you halfway when you get your position right.  Derby was moving happily and was nicely over his back.  It’s in moments like these that I really understand what we’re talking about when we refer to harmony in dressage.  Suddenly, things become easy when you’re in balance and harmony with the horse.

Hands forward, over the withers, where they belong.

It was a really nice ride, and I hope to build on it tonight.  However, we have whiteout conditions today, with high winds and snow.  Awesome.  I can’t wait for spring!

Carry on, and carry yourself

How you doin'?

We had an interesting weekend, and have resumed our lessons for the week.

We had a nice ride on Saturday, however, we had a mini mishap when I went to ask for the left lead canter.  As I asked and Derby stepped into stride, I felt my inside leg slip back, and I poked him in the belly with a spur.  Derby rightly took some offense, humping his back and and daring me to needlessly jab him again.  I transitioned to trot and got my butt up in two point.  I have to strengthen my leg, period.

Sunday was a gorgeous day, and all of the arena doors are open.  I’m not sure Derby’s ever seen the back door open, and he was bug-eyed at an open side door last week, outside which a variety of equipment is parked. I rode him through resistance and spooks, getting closer and closer to the lawn mower that was crouched, waiting to give a passing horse a haircut, but it wasn’t a great ride, and at no point did Derby really relax.

After that ride, I revisited getting control over the inside hind.  I practiced lateral work (shoulder-in and leg yield) and lots of work bending and flexing.  I got to put that work to the test on Sunday, and things went well. In short order I was able to get Derby to relax, and go around on the rail, walking and trotting easily.  Relaxation was the goal of the day.

Tonight we resumed lessons, and we’re stepping up to 45 minutes.  The first part of the lesson went pretty well, but then things got a little interesting when Derby started to resist, sucking his tongue over the bit and sucking back.  The answer wasn’t to mess with the reins, I learned.  Instead Christy had me get after Derby with my inside leg when he came above the bit and resisted.  “Tap tap tap! Use your leg! Use it!”  It worked, sending Derby forward into the contact, rather than trying to wrestle him with the reins.

Taking a break, Christy explained, theorizing that as I started to lose energy, I was losing a bit of balance and steadiness.  Derby was taking advantage.  Taking her words to heart, I changed direction, and made a real effort to balance myself. I found my seatbones, and got a nice walk. Moving into the trot, I posted out of a soft half-seat, keeping a quiet and balanced position.  Derby quieted, his back came up and the quality of the trot got better quickly.   “That’s better, that’s much better!” Christy affirmed.  I explained to her the adjustment I had made.

“Well, before you can expect the horse to carry himself, you have to carry yourself, ” she said. This was a lesson I’ll definitely remember.