|don't worry. maybe one day you can be as cool as us.|
Bobby: Ahoy! Jump ahead! (Sometimes Bobby is a pirate?)
My Brain: Roger. Cantering along, cantering along... we're two strides out... quick! Snatch at his face and grind your seat into his back! Well done!
Bobby: The fuck are you doing?! Do you want me to go faster to the jump? Or do you want me to slow down? WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME BOTH??
My Brain: Fuck, that sucked. Oh well. Let's do it again the exact same way!
Here's how my brain worked with Red:
Red: Jump ahead! Jump ahead! OMG, you're probably not even aiming me at it, but jump ahead!
My Brain: Sit quiet, Red's a boss, you don't need to move an inch. Aaaand we're jumping from about three strides away, but that's alright. Slip the reins, stay quiet, and carry on.
How did this disconnect happen? Honestly, I don't really know. But keep this in mind: I owned Red for six years. We had a long time to figure each other out. I've owned Bobby for two-ish years and I didn't start riding him with intent to do real things with him until last year at which point we started at square one. So if it took me six years to figure out how to ride and jump Red well, two years to make some real adjustments on Bobby is like a record!
Anyway, back to the plan. Bobby had been out for a couple of hours by the time I got to the barn so I walked him halfway up the hill to the field and then trotted the rest of the way for warm up. Every time he dropped pace a smidgum, I put my leg on him like he'd just slammed to a stop. Bobby was a little confused about my newfound
We did a couple of logs a couple of times with a loop in my reins, my butt out of the saddle, and a happy, forward horse that didn't change pace once. Blammo. I just fixed my horse. Or, at the very least, I made my horse not hate me as much as usual.
We headed down to the stacked logs on a hill and came up to it uphill. Same thing: forward pace, not-tense horse, even pace. We did it a few times before I was like, "There is one thing missing here: my leg. It's way back there.... in a different county." My stirrups were way too long and I could feel my leg swinging in the breeze over the jump. So I shortened them two holes and felt way more secure.
|the noble steed waiting patiently while I shortened my stirrups.|
I told Hubby we'd do the oxer and the stacked logs downhill and be done, which pretty much sealed the deal of the next jump not working out. Balls. The oxer is short in length, airy, hard to read, and rickety looking enough that even riders give it the ole "o.O" Bobby was like, "Nope. No thank you." And then Bobby was like, "No thank you? I actually meant to say NO FUCKING WAY." So he had a tantrum, a rather epic tantrum, and we went back to the stacked logs.
|but that was good at least!|
We finished with a victory run up the hill and Bobby cemented the fact that he was much happier this time around than he was when we went out with Sarah and he wanted nothing to do with any of the jumps or with going up the hill because there were jumps on it. Yay, happy (albeit very slow) horse!
- I need to make sure my stirrups are appropriately short. No being lazy about checking them.
- I need a neck strap because my core is sadly weak right now. Cantering uphill to a jump, I had to grab mane to not lay on Bobby's neck or just park it in the saddle.
- I need to keep working on my core strength. I am working on it, but I need to ramp it up. I want to be as strong as my pony!
Lots of jumping practice in my future, but today the hoss has off.
|happy horse ears.|