|totally random pictures of pilot will accompany this post since i have no new|
pics of bobby and i never shared these.
After stretching out my own legs, I dropped my stirrups and briefly tried doing some dressage work. Bobby showed off his lengthening-bordering-on-legit-extension of a trot to Sarah and then promptly decided that was all the cooperation he was willing to put forth to flat work today.
Since I haven't really been in the mood for legitimate flat work myself--hence the riding in the field in two point--I was like, "Fuck it! Let's jump this baby jump!" We had somehow managed to veer directly towards the ditch earlier while I was torturing myself with my bum out of the saddle and jumped it. Really, Bobby? You had nothing to do with that? Because I'm pretty sure your ears were locked onto it from about thirty feet out, and fuck knows I'm never paying attention to where we're going.
|my boobs look so saggy in all of these pictures. just throwing that out there.|
We went over the cherry log a few times each direction...and by "went over" I mean we catapulted like amazing circus performers getting shot out of a fucking cannon and over a large body of water. Is the cherry log even 2' tall? No. Probably not. Bobby does not give a fuck. Jumping > Anything.
We weren't up there for too long, and we were definitely not having a constructive ride, so to top off one of our usual Sarah and Carly rides that begins exactly the same way, we took Blackberry and Bobby down to the bottom of the field and let them rip. Bobby started dancing as soon as we got near the fenceline. Once we made it to the fence, he was like, "Charge? Wait, what?" But once he was facing the right direction, he was gone.
But see it all for yourself in what I think might actually be a swear-free helmet cam! (Or did that first "fucking" slip through? Hm.)