Foto Friday: Bird at Oak Mountain State Park

An excellent bird from an excellent bird lecture as part of an excellent bird photography class led by Meg McKinney [Meet Meg] at the Alabama Wildlife Center in Oak Mountain State Park (class details).

Verdict: the majority of my photos still suck pond water, but I’m starting to understand why. Progress.

First class [Spotted at Oak Mountain State Park]

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

CAA Repercussions

Driving Thursday

A big show [Show Report] leaves a big footprint.

Horse
Milton is doing so well with the latest step in our NQR random walk [Sand Colic?], that we have been talking about getting him off his special snowflake food [Feed Adventures, Part 1 of 2] and weaning him from naps [Naptime, Update]. Eventually. Someday. Maybe.

That day has arrived, sooner than we thought, at least for naps.

The trip to Lexington was a long weekend. I took the opportunity to air out the stall and do repair work. By the time the stall was ready for use, Milton had missed almost a week of naps.

Well, we decided to go with it and see what happens. So far, so good. Milton now eats all meals al fresco. No naps. We have not noticed any backsliding. Reminds me of the time when the price change forced us to stop Rodney’s meds cold turkey [Zeno’s Horse Training]. Let’s hope it has the same good effect.

We are not messing with the feed, until/if/when Milton is confirmed with driving. It’s going well enough at the moment [Hitched!] that we don’t want to make any changes that might affect his attitude.

The biggest loser in this appears to be Rodney. We think he enjoyed his Milton-free quiet time.

Driver
Greg is fired up. We came home Sunday. On Tuesday, we were at Stepping Stone to use the covered ring while the barn was quiet for the 4th holiday. (We don’t really do holidays [Feed Adventures, Part 2 of 2].) Four days later, we were back for a lesson.

The same thing used to happen to me when I’d spend the week at Rolex. Unfortunately for me, my then horse was not amused. [Aftermath].

Navigator
Over the course of the CAA Festival, the four of us hitched two horses ten times in four days. On at least one occasion, Greg and I were on our own while Coach Kate was busy with her horse. I remain aware of the safety issues, but am feeling more and more confident of our ability to git ‘er done.

I know that our multi-discipline house is not a zero-sum game. Greg’s success is not my failure. I am truly happy for him. Just ask anyone who heard me yelling when he won the reinsmanship class. Still, it is hard to go from seeing him do so well back to battling the beigeness that is my life [Recap: jumping]. I’ve only ridden handful of times in June & July, I’m still grumpy about Rodney’s future as jumping horse, and my confidence in myself is eroding once again as a result, with a generous topping of guilt for feeling overwhelmed by these non-existent “problems”.

None of this negates what I said on Monday [Mind/Body Solutions] or Wednesday [Getting a Grip, or Not]. I can feel better and worse at the same time. I can plan for progress and hopelessly decide it will never come to pass.

I am vast.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Getting a Grip, or Not

Saddle Seat Wednesday

Originally I had planned to hold off pontificating on this subject. I’ve had so many theories; I wanted to see if this had any bearing in reality first. Unfortunately, recent show schedules have sent Coach Courtney and us out of town on alternating weeks over the last month & a half. No lessons means no current saddle seat news. So, here we go.

Theory
I have no idea how to use my reins.

I’m clever. I can make it look good. Hands generally where they are supposed to be. No slack in the reins, most of the time. However, it is all facade. There is no true communication with the horse’s mouth.

My default rein mode is non-existent. Even with reins at the proper length, my fingers hang at the end of my hands like dead worms. I decide that I should pick up a contact, so I do. Then I don’t let go. Once you pick something up, you are supposed to hold onto it, right? It would be as if I picked up a telephone but either stood there doing nothing, or pushed one button continuously. Neither leads to a successful phone call.

I go a long way by compensating with my seat, legs, and weight. My legs are so reliable that I sold my previous saddle seat saddle because I couldn’t get my legs to behave. That never happens. I’ve had a judge compliment my leg position, while placing me last in the class. (BTW, current owner of saddle is doing fabulously with it. Go figure.)

I am not without good points. I don’t balance myself off the horse’s mouth. My hands are stiff rather than heavy, think cardboard instead of brick. Light but inflexible. When I’m doing anything with them at all.

It works most of the time. The horse goes where I want, when I want. The problem is that when it doesn’t work, I don’t know why. Therefore I can’t fix it. Nor can I predict problems. This allows for a certain amount of uncertainly to creep in.

Of course, no one cares what a rider does with the reins, per se. It’s all about organizing and influencing the horse. The legs of the rider motivate the legs of the horse. Got that. The horse pushes off from his hind legs delivering energy forward. Yeah, okay. The rider then gathers the energy so that the horse is ready to jump, half-pass, or do a flashy show trot down the long side. This is where it breaks down for me. What do with the front end of a horse remains a complete mystery.

How The Horses Feel About It
This is why I am able to hit myself over the head with the thought that

Turns out there are two horses* in the world I can ride, and one of them is dead. [Anatomy of a Snit]

To some extent this is true.

Horses who are islands unto themselves, such as Sam & Previous Horse, don’t care if they are suddenly bereft of rider support. ‘You saying anything I can use? Okay, I’m listening. You got nothing? Okay, fine. I’ll toodle along until you sort yourself out.’

Horses of a more sensitive disposition – Trump [Show Report] and Desi [Show Report] – stress when the rider does not offer sufficient guidance.

School horses who have to deal with heavy-handed beginners – Bingo [Snit] and Annie (But the kids ride her!) – get pissed when I hang on their face.

Pushy horses – Robert [Show Report] and Iggie [Lengthen Your Reins, Show Report] – use my stiff reins to pull me around, or my loose reins as an excuse to cavort – Robert [Show Report, Show Photo].

What It Explains
Why I get so nervous. Imagine you were driving a car. Most of the time, everything is fine. Then 1%, or even 0.1%, of the time, the steering goes wonky. Things are out of your control. You have no idea why. Most importantly, you have no tools to address the problem. Even if it doesn’t happen very often, the thought that it might would make you jittery whenever you go to sit behind the wheel.

Why I can’t drag my ass out of the basement. I can pick up lower-level anything: beginner hunter/jumper, beginner dressage, beginner eventing (back in the day I could kick just about any horse around baby novice), and beginner saddle seat. I suspect I would have done beginner western if I had ended up there [Checklist]. Yet, historically, I’ve had no luck getting past intro level: three-foot hunter/jumper, Training-level dressage, Novice eventing. At some point, one has to stop thundering around on the forehand.

Why it’s harder on Saddlebreds, One. I can’t compensate with my lower leg. The saddle seat position takes away the strongest weapon in my arsenal.

Why it’s harder on Saddlebreds, Two. I’m doing okay when my butt is in the saddle: at home at a walk, in dressage lessons at a sitting trot, and in saddle seat at a canter. My saddle seat canter is poetry. Alas, no one cares. Saddle seat is all about the posting trot. The movement of posting means your hands must have a mind of their own. They can’t simply be an extension of what you do with your upper body.

Why It’s a Good Thing
I’m excited. It explains so much. I’m more able to cope if I know WHY.

If I can get my hands to match my legs, watch out world.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Hitched!

Driving Tuesday

Well, that was unexpected.

We showed up for Greg’s third groundwork lesson at Stepping Stone Farm [First, SSF] expecting more of the same. After about 5 minutes, Coach Courtney says, “So Greg, want to hook him?” Um, yes? I guess? We knew Milton would be put to a cart sometime this summer. Today was not on our radar.

Still, Miss Courtney liked way Milton was going and decided to get on with it. That’s why one hires a professional. Technique is the easy part. Knowing when to apply that technique is what takes a lifetime to master.

I dragged out the additional straps. Turns out Greg had been bringing all the gear along in case it might be needed. One of the barn Munchkins brought the jog cart up to the big ring. Greg grounddrove for a few minutes. We hitched. Miss Courtney drove from behind the cart while Greg led. They switched. We unhitched. Everyone exhaled. Milton was showered with praise.

Milton was awesome. Coach Courtney was awesome. Greg was awesome. Greg keeps asking me how Milton looked pulling a cart. I have no idea. I was so deeply, intensely focused on the lack of hysteria that I didn’t really see much else.

Not that the day was without drama. While getting ready, Milton got away and ran around field wearing half of his shipping boots. Then, shifting from long lines to driving reins involved a bridle adjustment. Milton objected. On the way from the covered arena to the big ring, Milton spooked and spun in several circles, taking out spectators and crashing into a truck (horse, spectators and truck are all fine). I would have pulled the plug. In the ring, Milton fussed about the clouds of gnats. In his defense, the bugs where vile.

The one thing he didn’t seem to care about all day was the cart rattling along behind him. Yay! The next step is for the driver to sit in the cart. Then, lots and lots of schooling. While there is still a ways to go before we can consider Milton a driving horse, this was a huge step. As Greg said,

Before Sat, Milton as a driving horse was a hypothetical. It is still hypothetical, but a whole lot closer to real.

No pictures. Deliberately. I wanted to stay vigilant rather than worry about recording the moment. Next time, expect many, many photos.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Mind/Body Solutions

I mentioned my recent funk [Recap]. My riding career is going nowhere. I’m seeing 60 on the horizon. Funk seemed a reasonable response.

Until.

We have been having problems with basement damp. Found and fixed cause. Swept out the water. Discovered and threw out sodden items. Spread bleach with liberal hand.

I feel so much better. The air coming up through the vents no longer smells like a Vogon’s armpit. Relief was immediate and lasting. Nothing in my situation has changed. My horse is still a twink. I’m still a galloping grandmother (in age, not in actuality). Now I have the energy to deal with it.

Over the years, I have come to the conclusion that horse misbehavior is rooted in pain. I’m starting to wonder the same about people, having lived through several examples in my own head [Antibiotics as Mood Elevator tooth & ear, Happy Heath News eyes]. I even took this into consideration. I could not find a likely cause. Damp. Who knew?

I am a precious, picky princess, with the resilience of a daffodil. This is not news.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott