Back in the saddle: WCPC HT

Oslo and I after the first fence Cross Country..

Okay. Ridiculous to say, but back pain is crippling. And, I did not cause my back problem whilst riding over hill and dale in southwest Ohio. I did it while cleaning the trailer out the next day. But, now, a week + later, I am getting caught up in some things, and functioning normally, in some things and looking forward to getting with the rest. My back thing goes way back, I think to a rainy evening in 1980 when I fell out of my hay loft. So, more than 30 years later I am periodically reminded of that history.
But on this day, a sunny gorgeous day in early November, that began in the wee hours with loading up my big pony and trailering to the bend in the Ohio River where Indiana, Ohio and Kentucky come together, no injuries, but plenty of reminders of my history. Here I am, once again, 25 years later, Eventing.

The following is Cate's primer on Eventing, skip if you already are looking for a pencil to put in your eye.

Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the sport, or perhaps who read my blog about the Horse Trials Oslo and I completed in September, the whole name of the sport is a bit confusing." Eventing" is the sport where horse and rider compete in three different phases of competition. "Horse Trials" is also eventing, you complete all three phases. "Hunter Trials" seemed to be the same thing when I was a kid, but I think they are mostly just a British thing now. And "Combined Training"  is also Eventing, with the three phases and not to be confused with "Combined Test", which is eventing, without the cross country phase, which means it's not really Combined Training atall. When I was a kid, and competing in eventing, I had to be a member of the USCTA which was the United States Combined Training Association. Somewhere in the past 25 years, I didn't get the memo, but the USCTA is now the USEA or the United States Eventing Association. Capisci? Good. Me neither. This is why I asked the ground jury judge what the USCTA rule was for dressage numbers and got a very funny look.  
In any case to recap:
The Dressage Phase is riding on the flat coordinating certain actions (walk, trot, halt, canter- to more complicated things like lateral movement and lead changes yadayadayada) to letters placed around a rectangular ring. This is designed to show riding skills that combine thought, coordination and energetic, free gaits all with submission to the rider. It is the least dangerous of the tree phases, but, the most difficult in many ways and arguably, the most important. It is the only phase on which you are given an score for every moment in the ring, and the scores  are averaged to a score you carry into the next two phases.
The Cross Country Phase is traditionally the second phase, and so help me, I am a traditionalist. In most of the smaller events, especially the "recognized" (read; expensive, sanctioned) ones it run last, because as the most dangerous of the three, they want you to prove you really can jump your horse before setting you off on a course of solid (read; solid) fences placed around the countryside at high speed (read; that would be the premise, but Oslo and I don't really "do" high speed). This is maybe the most fun phase, considering you have a good ride. It is undoubtedly the most exhilarating.
The Stadium Jumping Phase is the third phase, or as above, now confusing for me, run second. This is colorful, complicated fences placed inside a sand or grass arena. The fences are close together and present unique challenges.
When scoring  the two jumping phases, in eventing, the object is to clear all the obstacles without refusing (horse stops, runs out to the side or misses a fence), knocking a rail (this is only possible in the Stadium phase as in the cross country phase, you knock it, it doesn't move), or falling off your horse- which eliminates you from competition. This is why the dressage phase becomes so important when it comes to scoring. If you can go clear on the jumping phases, you finish the entire she-bang with your dressage score... and the people in front of you can too! Or, not.
So,

Here ends Cate's primer on Eventing, hopefully eyes and pencils are all intact.

back to the Walnut Creek Pony Club Invitational Horse Trials! (No clue what made them "invitational" , except my friend Kara invited me to join her and Indy, Rachel and Bo and make a day of it. I invited Middlest and conscripted Oslo, so perhaps they should be "Invitational, Conscripted Horse Trials").

As the sun came up we headed southwest with Middlest and Kara's baby Ava in the back seat, and my copilot, Rachel's mom, Gail, riding shotgun. And lucky thing too, I tried to make all sorts of wrong turns.

The sun was bright, and we expected an unseasonably warm day, but were greeted by the nemesis of the midwest: Wind. Lots of it. Now, for horse people, you are all saying "oooooh" for the rest of you you're thinking "and? enough of the weather report!" But, the horse people know that wind means things flapping. And things that flap spell "GET THE HECK OUTTA HERE PRONTO TONTO!" to a horse. Only, I think Tonto was the guy. So, Tonto's horse. Horses are wired for flight.  Get in the herd and  be faster than the last guy. It is how they survive, and how they win races. It is not how they slow down, concentrate and do the crazy things we ask them to do.

I have here a completely scientific diagram of a horse's brain with the understood thought centers:

As you can see, much of the brain is used in dealing with wind, boys jumping out of trees, tigers, that sort of thing.

This makes doing something new in a strange place extra special when you add a LOT of wind.

Needless to say, our dressage test had a few movements that were not included in the prescribed program. They had nicely decorated around the arena with baskets of fall mums, pumpkins and the raffia-type scarecrows from the hobby store. Wonderfully flappy things.

Considering this, we still landed a very respectable 39.4 in dressage ( in Eventing, the lower the score the better as it is negative points).

Next up: Stadium. Sigh. I liked traditional. I have to say, this phase made me the most nervous. First of all, the fences were beautiful. Totally high end stuff, which is to say, high and colorful. Then, there was a huge burgundy colored tent sitting on the rise above the stands. Tents flap- the little scalloped edges snapping in the wind. Not only that, but the judges stand on another side of the arena had metal siding that was being a bit stressed by the wind. And the stands. Stands have spectators. There are a whole bunch of people watching you in your triumph or humiliation. Not only these things, but the Stadium course was a real bugger. The corner between fence four and the off-set row of fences five and six had something very scary for horses, and many were having either refusal faults, elimination, or riders parting ways with horse.

Fortunately, unlike in the dressage phase, in the jumping phases there is no taboo about speaking to (even vigorously) your horse. I have found riding Oslo to be 3/4 riding, 1/4 cheerleader. If I clam up, he loses his confidence. If I talk him through, we do okay. We did okay. Although, the scary corner claimed us too, and I had to really ride to get him over fence five...kinda sideways to the collective gasp and spontaneous applause of the watchers in the stands. But we did it! Clean, and I was thrilled with my little eventing pony!

Now, to don the body armor and try my hand at a solid cross country course. Now, Eventing horses need to be brave, trusting and a bit, well, crazy. I am not pushing Oslo to those levels, but still, cross country is cross country. And so, imagine my thrill when not only were we set to go out on the historically accurate and still traditional "10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 Have a Good Ride!" out of the starting box, but, we also got to experience a small plane landing on the driveway adjacent to the starting box. Admonished to get out of the way, Oslo and I retreated a small way down the hill- free of the wings, and he stood steadily watching interested as the plane touched down, landed and taxied back around just prior to the start of our ride. I guess he is rather brave. Or else, in his brain there is no color for "landing planes". Personally, I thought it might go under the heading " Run away from scary things".

And we were off, over fence one- a nice solid tree on it's side, and then a turn to a steep down hill. At this juncture I encouraged him to take it slow. Fall of horse or rider is elimination, and hills are still new to the big guy. But that meant fence # 2 at the bottom of the hill- a nice little cemented stone wall with a wooden roof- that had caused many problems for the previous riders, would have to be ridden strongly. I heard a cheer as we cleared it with no problems and up hill to fences 3 and four- more trees and walls-and down hill to five and up hill to six  and seven (are you seeing a theme here?) under large, scary power lines to a straight forward fence 8, nine and down the hill to 10, 11, 12, and up hill to 13- now back to the main grounds with scary flapping burgundy tent, five and dime scarecrows and lots of people. Across the road and through the fence line to fence 14- a stack of  concrete parking curbs, past a scoreboard with a large flapping yellow tablecloth stapled on it- and through the finish flags! Clear, and done. Unbelievably pleased with Oslo. And not just a little bit with myself. My goals for the day had been to:

1. Not die.
2. Have a whole lotta fun if  successful with #1.

And I achieved these goals. The pair that had been second after dressage had been eliminated in the scary corner of Stadium, so to top it off, we finished second. I was, and am, chuffed.

Oslo and I salute the judge at the start of our dressage test. He had a nice straight center line, but we goofed a bit by not being square in the halt....

Fence 8, the first of a combination with the other very purple fence 9...

Fence 9 heads back into the scary corner. You can see his head is a bit tucked in.

This is fence 5, the one right after scary corner. It looks a LOT better in the photo that it felt in person!

Okay. This is cross country. Photographing cross country can be very challenging. Middlest gave it a shot. But fences are spread out, and go into woods and out of sight. This was her best bet, fence three. And she got the shot! Only, right before "click", another horse went by, and the camera focused on his gleaming white hiney.  So it goes!