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Lessons Learned Three

Early on in a February 23, 2008 lesson with Dottie, I have a flashback to an earlier lesson with Katie Long, who was my first riding instructor when I arrived in Palmer. I realize that had I not had this more negative experience, I would not have been able to later move beyond it.

I had another lesson with Dottie today. I was feeling confident until I entered the arena, and a chunk of snow fell off the upper ledge, onto the snow below. Right then, my heart started pounding and I began sweating. It was a flashback. What originally happened took place in the arena at Moose Creek Ranch, which is a few miles from my home. I’d been pen cleaning, which lead to my taking riding lessons. I’d become smitten with Delilah, a slim bay 15.3 hand Morgan/Arab mare, who had a white blaze and two white socks. She had excellent pen manners, and was quiet when being tacked up. But once under saddle, she became jumpy and nervous. Her owner, Katie Long, said that I could assist in ground training her.

We worked all that fall, once-a-week, on walk, whoa, back, and turns on the forehand and haunches. We also taught Delilah to lunge, and I worked with her in the round pen. This would have gone on indefinitely had I not asked Katie if I could ride her. Delilah had previously been a trail horse. And Katie, who’d once had been a state dressage champion, had been riding her for several months.

Katie stood deep in thought and considered my question, rolling it around in her head like a marble. After an interminable amount of time, she said yes. I got Delilah out of the pen, groomed her, and helped Katie tack her up. She then got on and rode Delilah for forty-five minutes, at the walk and trot. It was finally my turn. I got on. Katie clipped the lead line to Delilah’s bridle, and she moved out nicely. We walked around the ring several times one way, and then the other. The lesson concluded with Katie’s having told me that I’d done quite well.

Walk, whoa, walk, whoa. We continued working in this fashion for another four months. A chance remark by Melinda, who boarded her horse at Moose Creek, made me realize that it was time to move on. One day, as I was grooming Delilah she asked if I was up for my weekly pony ride. I said nothing, but saw the situation from her perspective. I was like a kid, being taken on her first horseback ride, once a week, every week. My sentiments echoed her own; it was time to start riding that horse.

“Do you think I might ride off-lead today? I posed this question to Katie as she again walked over to where the halters were hanging. She considered this question carefully, grabbed the line, and then said yes. I took Delilah over to the mounting block and Katie stood at her head, as I got on. I was doing a series of walk and whoas when it happened. It was February and we were experiencing a pre-spring thaw. A sheet of ice slid off the roof, creating a near-deafing sound. Delilah, hearing the dragon’s breath, leapt up into the air like a gazelle. I felt a thud, as my back connected with hers. The feeling was akin to bouncing up on a trampoline, and then coming down hard. Katie, who was standing close by, grabbed Delilah’s halter, and moved to clip the lead in place.

“I’m just fine. For now, let’s keep the lead off,” I said

“No. We need to go back to doing more ground work. She needs more desensitization training.” Katie replied.

“So are you saying that I should get off?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I dismounted, well knowing that I’d never again ride Delilah. However, the riding bug had bit hard. I began harboring thoughts about getting my own horse, and began saving my pen cleaning money, with the thought that I could use it to pay for a few months’ board.

I forgot about the above incident until I stepped into Dottie’s arena, and again heard the all-too familiar sound of ice fall. I took a few deep breaths and weighed a series of options. I could 1) Leave. 2) Ask Dottie to ride Chester. 3) Have Dottie put a lead line on Chester and lead me around. 4) Keep my mouth shut and let Dottie decide what ought to be done. I went with Option Four because then Dottie would be the one to act on options 1, 2, or 3. This way, I would appear less cowardly in the eyes of someone who I truly liked and respected. I doubted that she’d suggest yet another possibility, which is that I ride off-lead. But if she did, well then I’d deal.

I repeatedly reminded myself of this, as Dottie assisted me in tacking up Chester. Before getting on, I walked him over to the avalanche area, and gave him a treat. We three met at the mounting block and I got on. Dottie and I talked for a bit about what I’d been reading, a book she’d lent me entitled Racinet Explains Baucher. It was an overview, by Jean-Claude Racinet, of the work of Jean Claude Baucher, who was (in the 1800s) an advocate of riding in the classical French tradition, a method of riding in which the focus is on relaxing the mouth as opposed to using force in the welding of aids.

I told Dottie that this was a tough book for me, a beginning rider, to comprehend. But I added, I now understood that unless the rider assists in freeing a horses’ stiff jaw, there can be no freedom of movement. As we talked, Dottie stood in front of Chester, put the bridle rings between thumb and forefinger, and gently moved his head and neck from side-to-side. His head and neck dropped, and I felt his back muscles loosen. Chester’s very audible sigh was a further indication that he was relaxing. I took a cue from Chester, and before moving off, I relaxed my tight jaw and moved my head from side-to-side.

More snow fell, and I glanced worriedly behind me, as did Chester. Dottie then suggested that I ride him in the front end of the arena, first using my legs and seat, so as to move the Morgan’s head from-side-to-side. At the same time, she instructed me to be thinking about where I was going, and where I wanted Chester to put his feet. This worked. Dottie next repositioned my legs, explaining to me that I needed to think about the knee-seat-knee connection. I looked ahead, as she pressed my knee into the saddle, and then turned my leg inward. What I saw surprised me when I looked down. My foot was not turning inward, but was parallel to Chester’s body.

So as to better enable me to make the knee-seat-leg connection, Dottie put a neck strap on Chester and, at the walk, had me hold onto the strap and rein with my inside hand, and the rein with my outside hand. I stood and felt my weight drop and my knee better connect with the saddle. I then did this at the walk and trot. Going from posting to standing threw my rhythm off, but when I sat down, I moved with Chester.

I relaxed further, meaning I sat up straighter, put my shoulders back, and extended my legs. My hands were not as quiet as I liked. Dottie, maybe thinking the same thing, suggested that I use the strap, and in this way steady myself. I posted and drew a parallel to Baucher’s statement about the use of the hands and legs; that is, that they should function independently of one another. Thus, with the use of the strap, my reliance shifted more to my legs. Dottie next had me ride Chester in both directions, on a loose rein. I used my legs. He moved nicely beneath me in all directions, and further lowered his head. “Ask him to whoa,” Dottie said. I shifted my weight downward and Chester stopped. A clump of snow fell off the eaves, but neither he nor I paid it any mind.

I repeat, neither Chester nor I paid the snowfall any mind. I dismounted, and let a sense of euphoria envelope me. I later realized that Dottie had instilled confidence in me as a rider, confidence that I’d previously lost. I’ve often thought that teaching riding must at times be unnerving, particularly when an instructor is working with a worried rider and an equally worried horse. Dottie’s primary strength as a riding instructor is that she’s adept at getting the horse and rider to focus on the task at hand. And this is exactly what happened.

I don’t wish for this revelation to detract from Katie Long’s ability as an instructor. The truth be known, the above-mentioned whoa was a Katie Long whoa. It was practiced, thought out, deliberate. I suspect that all that time spent being lead around was a good thing because my riderly focus was exclusively on my seat. Thus, I came full circle in my thinking, as that mound of snow fell off the arena ledge.

There were many invaluable life-lessons today, again it was affirmed that when I’m in charge, and act like I’m in charge, things go smoothly. I wish that I’d figured this out when I was working with Katie and Delilah, but most likely, I had a few things to learn in the meantime.

I’m looking forward to the days ahead, and to putting what I learned to use when riding Tinni, Raudi, and Siggi.

I assisted Dottie in taking the tack off Chester, and then together, we put him away. My only regret is that I don’t have another lesson tomorrow.

Alys
Pete
Raudi
Form and Function
Gerjun's Decision
Bolting
Chafa Chafa
Clicker Training
Trailer Training
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Lessons 4
Maresville
Minus Eight
Snow Day
Siggi
Tinni
Bootleg
Rainbow
Jenna
Goats
Chickens