We've been luckier this winter, not so much snow. Lots of mud though, lots ... and lots ... and lots of mud. The Hippo loves mud. Every day of thaw she rolls, frolics and generally wallows. I arrive to a horse covered in mud from eyeballs to toes, sincerely grateful for the miracle of winter blankets and hoods. So much for the idea of mares preferring to be clean. Its ridiculous.
|You think I'm exaggerating? I wish!|
Rinse. repeat on Sunday. I will say that it was a different experience settling into the saddle on Sunday though. Not for the horse, she was still keen and thrilled to be headed away from the arena. I discovered that I had a few bruised & sore spots in, um, delicate areas. Note to fellow riders, 'saddle sores' are a fantastic motivator for 2 point practise as you ride across country at walk, trot or canter. Your ... butt (yeah, that's it) ... will thank you. Your thighs, however, will not.
The real qualifier for sainthood through was last night, as a big mare carted my tail over my
first 3' jump combinations in a decade. See, that 3' marker is a big deal for me. Its that line where horses can't just pull their legs up to jump, they have to rock back. It requires a better horse and a better ride.
|How do I feel about 3'+ jumps? This sums it up perfectly|
Well, I decided that I was going to give it a go last night. Cranked some tunes, planned the ride with a good friend and off we went. Pick up canter, leg on, throw the reins at her and pray the mare will ignore the doubts emanating from my hands/legs/seat.
|Did someone say 3' combination?|
We repeat a few more times so I can set it in my brain that SHE is fine at 3'. I just need to do the same thing as always. Sit up, leg, and throw the reins at her. She's got this, for which I am supremely grateful.
|Yes, she's that awesome. Well, today she is.|