Dressage debut

The weather, which had been so pleasantly sunny in the morning, had proved fickle again, and by the time I got out of the door with my clean tack, white saddle pad, jacket, camera and drink, it was very rainy indeed. I had knotted my hair up and I was wearing my show gear except for my long boots, jacket and hairnet, but I had a large pair of waterproof trousers and a waterproof jacket over the top so that everything would stay clean. I’d planned to wear the waterproofs just to stay clean but as it was raining they served a dual purpose.

I arrived at the yard and, after a bit of dithering about parking spaces, managed to transfer myself and my stuff from car to stable. Pleasingly, Drifter seemed not to have dirtied himself much since the grooming that morning, so I could focus on plaiting and then just give him a quick swipe with a brush or two. When plaiting I am always pleased that he’s not too tall – I can plait standing on the ground, saving me from balancing on an upturned bucket. Really I should have pulled his mane a little shorter – the plaits are rather bulky, but I thought they did the job OK. I’m afraid it’s not a great picture but it’s the only picture I have of the mane before we went out. I had plenty of things to think about and pictures of plaits wasn’t high up my agenda. Here a picture of the tail that I took afterwards.
We have an agreement, regarding mane pulling and plaiting. He’ll stand nicely without needing to be tied up and let me do it and in return he’ll get regular bribe treat breaks. This seems to work well for us. If he looks round hopefully for a treat and I think he’s not being patient enough I push his head gently back to looking ahead of him and carry on. In general if I’m doing things with him in the stable I don’t tie him up. On occasions when he’s stressed or upset and we’re in the stable I find him easier to manage at liberty than when his head is tied but he’s swinging the back end to and fro. If he’s free to turn to face whatever’s bothering him he stays a lot calmer.

Mr Sparrowgrass arrived while I was plaiting and kept calling regular time checks to me. I finished grooming and tacked up, including the new white saddle pad and the new flash noseband, put on my hairnet, stripped off my waterproofs, changed into my long boots, added the jacket, thrust the white gloves at Mr Sparrowgrass to hold, brought Drifter out, got Mr S to hold him too, put hoof oil on him (D, not Mr S!) and put my gloves on. A member of staff came round just as I was finishing all this to check we were on our way to warm up. I led him into the warm-up arena and tried to tighten the girth. Unfortunately my new white gloves afforded no grip on the clean leather, so I had to take one off to get the job done. A spectator offered to hold him for me to mount at the block (he is often impatient at the block and with 4 other ponies in the arena warming up with us, he was about to be unhelpful if not encouraged not to walk off before I was on board), which was much appreciated. During the warm-up I was really glad of the jacket as the rain sheeted down on us. After only a few minutes the sleeves were soaked through.

As I warmed up I took stock of the competition arena adjacent. The judges “booth” was a small car which had been parked so that the judges in the front seat had a nice view down the centre line at C. The entry bell was the car horn. That sounds savage, but it’s quite a modestly voiced car, and I did not see any horses startle from it. Because the arena is ordinarily longer, the letters attached to the fences are not in the right places when the end is chopped off the arena. For this reason there were moveable signs with the letters on at the correct positions for a test. It didn’t look too scary.

We were allowed a caller to read the test as we rode it (at a small extra fee) and I’d opted to use one for the reassurance that under pressure I wouldn’t suddenly get lost and forget where to go.

It was our turn. We entered the arena and walked and trotted around a little. I made sure to take him past the car at C to give him a chance to look at it before we started.

I think it’s fair to say we were both pretty tense. He stuck his head in the air and I forgot about pretty much everything except steering. I had a moment of blind panic where I hadn’t really listened to which letter the caller said and suddenly wasn’t sure “is it at this corner I turn across the diagonal or do I wait until the next one?” I turned, and it was the correct place. Also in the 3-loop serpentine I panicked because there were no “middle” letters. Apparently in a small arena R, S, V and P aren’t supposed to be marked, although they are marked in all of our schools regardless of size. I set out on the first loop of my serpentine expecting to turn at a letter and suddenly finding that there was no letter in front of me. As I progressed through the serpentine I realised none of the letters I was looking for were there and I had to plan my own route for the first time ever. I’m not sure I breathed until we finished that figure! I felt very hot despite the freezing rain on my soaked jacket. In both an eternity and no time at all it was the end, halt, salute and leave the arena. After cooling him off I led him back round to his stable, where Mr Sparrowgrass took some more relaxed pictures of us.

Then I rugged him, fed him and waited for the results.
There was a professional photographer there and we occupied some time perusing her wares. It appears that next time I do a dressage test I need to consider doing the test without grimacing constantly. There were very few frames in which I wasn’t gurning, but we did purchase a few to commemorate our first dressage test.

There were only 4 adults doing the walk-trot test and I was pretty sure we would come last of the 4, so I decided that I would measure my score against all the other competitors regardless of age. After all I’ve only been riding for 2 years – less than some of the 6 year olds. I decided that as long as I didn’t come last out of the entire field then I’d be happy. And after all we hadn’t had any bucking or gone out of the arena and we’d completed the test, so we’d met the goals I’d set myself for the day.

Eventually the scores were available and the marks sheets and rosettes handed out. We got 61%, which I think is pretty respectable for a first dressage test. As I had expected this put us 4th of 4 in the adult competition but I was pleased to see that looking at all of the walk-trot scores for the day, we were pretty much in the middle of the field. The highest and lowest scores were 52 and 71, the 71 posted by the youngest competitor there.

I scored a mix of 6s and 7s, with a (double scored) 5 for free walk on a long rein. I was amused to see that both the serpentine and the diagonal where I thought I might be turning in the wrong place scored 7 each – I must have done OK despite the panic. I was disappointed in the free walk mark, not only because it’s not good to get your lowest mark on the thing that counts twice, but also because when we started practicing the test we couldn’t get across the diagonal on a free rein without wandering left and right. Still if we get a 5 when we’re straight, I dread to think what we would have got if we hadn’t already improved that!

I have a lot of different feelings now, some of them contradictory.

I feel like a champion because we completed the test with all the elements in place.

I feel ashamed of how far we were from going on the bit.

I think we looked awesome.

I think we looked like an overdressed gurner on a short black giraffe with funny plaits (yes we both had funny plaits, but mine were in a hairnet)

I’m delighted with 61%.

I’m disappointed with the free walk mark.

I’m delighted the free walk was straight.

I want to do next month’s test and show improvement.

I don’t have the energy to do another test any time soon.

In short, I am the old negative me and the new positive me, both at the same time. It’s quite confusing. But both of me agree that we achieved a lot, getting dressed up and achieving a dressage test and getting our first rosette.

Final preparation for the show

Since my last post on show shopping I have acquired some more bargains. I found some white cotton gloves for £2 and carried on keeping my eyes open for long boots without much hope. Then I found some! Not only did I find some, they were very much in the sale; reduced to £12 and then a further 10% off! They’re basic rubber long boots in an extra wide fitting. The shop was a general sports shop with a riding section, so I hadn’t expected to find anything there really. The shop only had 3 pairs left but one of them was my size. I was utterly delighted. Sometimes these things only happen after you’ve resigned yourself to not being able to get any. I was so happy that I bought a white saddle pad for the show as well, although I’d previously planned to make do with my black one.

Unlike the Easter show, the summer dressage competitions are held in the smaller of the two outdoor arenas. This is the correct width for a small dressage arena but over-long, so they divide it off at the correct length with plastic markers on the ground. So around 3 sides the limit of the arena is the fence and on the 4th side there’s just a white strip that a horse can easily step over.

They put these strips out the night before so that people could practice. So we practiced … and several times he took control of the steering and we ended up over that line and out of the arena. Oh dear.

…

Following the biomechanics session the previous day, I was concerned that our first dressage test might include bucking. I was pretty sure bucking wasn’t quite the thing…

…

So the night before the dressage test my goal was to get through the test without bucking or exiting the arena and to achieve a vaguely recognisable version of each movement.

I’d arranged to have the day of the show off work so I didn’t end up rushing there pushed for time, trying to plait in record time. With that freedom I decided to ride him in the morning to tire him out. Hopefully that would mean he’d have less energy to buck. I also decided it was time to give in and buy a flash noseband to stop him opening his mouth to evade the bit. Hopefully with the flash on I’d have more chance of keeping him in the arena. I’d buy the flash as soon as the shop opened and then go and ride him in it.

The next morning came and I purchased my flash. It also occurred to me at this point that I really needed to ride in the long boots ahead of the show. It was a beautiful sunny morning and I spent a long time grooming him in the sunshine, hoping he wouldn’t get too dirty between then and the evening. I tacked him up using the new flash noseband, put my long boots on and went out to ride.

The noseband did help a great deal, although he was not too impressed with it. We were able to remain within the arena. There was no bucking either. I did find the boots much harder to ride in than my half-chaps & short boots. In order to fit me around the calf I’d had to go for a width fitting that was very loose around the ankle, making it hard to feel the horse, but I felt happy that I could ride in them that evening. I found it hard to find the “canter-button” in them, but as I was going to do a walk-trot test, canter seemed a bit beside the point.

Satisfied by a good ride, I dismounted, put him back in his stable and took all the tack home to clean before the test.

Centaur Biomechanics : in which Drifter shows the good, the bad and the beautiful

The day after Drifter’s shower we were booked to have a rider analysis session with Russell Guire of Centaur Biomechanics. He comes to our yard a few times a year, and I had one session with him last year on a school horse, so I had some idea of what to expect.

Our session was at 9 in the morning (a Sunday) and I turned up just after 8 to groom and tack up. Unfortunately the stable was bare. He’d been turned out. Usually, even for horses who are only used by their owners, if it’s on the system that a horse is needed imminently for a lesson then they’re not turned out. But on this occasion they’d all been turned out just before 8. So I got him in from the field, although he’d only been out a few minutes. It’s actually the first time I’ve bought him in from the field myself as I usually avoid doing anything with him in his limited turnout time. I knew he was reasonably good to catch but even so I didn’t wave the headcollar around or walk directly at him, just in case he felt like messing around. I was utterly charmed when he chose to approach me. I held the headcollar out and he put his nose in. It was a really nice moment and I could not have been more touched by my lovely horse.

After grooming and tacking up we headed into the indoor school to begin the session. We began with me introducing Drifter and saying how long I’d had him and where I felt we were with riding. Drifter was fidgety and called to his friends in the field outside. I mounted and began walking round as we continued to talk and Russell got his computer and camera ready. Suddenly Drifter bucked. And bucked again. And again. I told him off and stayed on, explaining to Russell that this was the first time this had happened and he bucked a couple more times. Eventually Drifter consented to walking forward again. This was not the start to the session that I had envisaged! I’m not sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Russell didn’t have the video on me at that point, but I was very glad for his calm support during the incident. I was also glad I hadn’t pulled Drifter’s mane too short to have anything to hold on to! This was the first real bucking I’d had on any horse, so I was very glad I hadn’t been alone when it happened.

The session got much better as we went on. Drifter got the message that he wasn’t going to get out of work and eventually started concentrating. Russell is a very talented teacher and the videoing is a wonderful tool. We ended up spending a while working on the canter. I’d been struggling to canter round corners. Drifter is very unbalanced and I’d not been sure if it was that he breaks back to trot for corners because he doesn’t feel he can go round them safely in canter or just because he doesn’t want to. Russell was clear that it was “won’t”, not “can’t” which gave me more confidence in pushing him to stay in canter. We’ve still got a lot of progress to make here but it was really useful and built my canter-confidence a lot. The main message that came out of the session was that I need to use (a lot) more leg, especially in canter but that my position is quite good now. This was particularly pleasing because I used to have so much difficulty in sitting straight and central on the horse. Later in the day I watched my videos from this session and compared them to the one last year on the school horse. The difference in my straightness was quite marked – no more leaning to the left!

I think (hope?) the bucking was probably triggered by his having been turned out and brought in so quickly and so he was naughtily saying no to working. The day before he’d not been ridden but had been turned out and then showered, so it’s not like he’d stood in all day or hadn’t been ridden for days. I’m very pleased that I stayed on him and so he didn’t “win” the encounter. I’ve ridden him three times since then with no issues so I hope it is not going to be repeated. If it is repeated I’ll look into checking back, saddle & teeth in case it is a pain issue, but to me and my admittedly limited experience it felt like naughtiness. The morning was a micro version of the rollercoaster of horse-owning: the beautiful moment when he came to me in the field, the bucking, and by the end of the session, some of the best cantering we’d ever done. Exhausting!

The videos are a valuable training tool, but beyond that they’re just beautiful (well I think so!). I’ve not put a video on my blog before, so getting this to work (assuming I’ve actually managed it!) was a challenge. (Credit also to Mr Sparrowgrass who helped with file formats when I’d got to the limit of my will to live patience.)

Extract from a video made by Russell Guire of Centaur Biomechanics.

In which Drifter has a shower

I started by taking his hay net to the washbox so it would be there waiting for him. I also filled a pocket with treats in case I needed to bribe or distract him. Then I fetched him. Initially he did not want to walk in, so I employed some of the treats to tempt him into the washbox. He was in, but anxious. He ignored the hay net (unheard of behaviour!) and looked worried. I ignored him and started trying to get the balance of the water warm but not hot. This is complicated by the taps not being labelled so it took me a while to work out which was hot and which cold.

Eventually I got a reasonable temperature and started wetting him. I started from the back end because I thought (rightly) that he’d have less issue with water far away from his head than close to his head. He’s quite a small horse really but as I started washing him I realised quite how much surface area there is to a horse. Being a cheap skate I was using a gentle baby shampoo rather than something marketed for horses. At various points during the process he stood on the hose, blocking the flow and causing a fine whistling spray to come out around the taps, which he considered a Bad and Scary Thing, but each time I was able to shove him off the hose again before he got too upset.

Bit by bit I worked my way up towards his head – wetting, shampooing, rinsing. The neck was difficult – he did not want water on his neck and expressed that quite clearly by doing his best giraffe impression as water ran down inside my sleeves and I grimly carried on shampooing his mane. The head, as I had expected, was barely possible. I had a sponge which he found barely tolerable but mostly I ended up wiping his face, ears and forelock with wet hands and leaving it at that.

I turned the water off and tried to put the heat lamps on. Unfortunately the person before me had tripped the fuse so I had to leave the wash-box to get a member of staff to help. In the seconds I was outside the box I heard the stampy hooves of a slightly panicky horse, but as soon as I got back in his line of vision he was OK and the member of staff reset the fuse and turned the lamps on for us. The scary water was now off and I waved his hay-net in front of his nose. He sampled it and found it acceptable. Calmness ensued. I squeegeed him (OK I know you call it sweat-scraper, but it’s blatantly a horse squeegee!) and began the wait for him to dry. In the meantime I started combing out his tail. I wanted to try to trim it while it was wet, because when I previously tried it dry I wasn’t satisfied with the result. Unfortunately by the time I’d combed out all the tangles it was nearly dry! Last time I’d tried the recommended method of  trimming by brushing it over my arm first to try to get a straight line, but he just has too much tail for that. This time I just got the end in a bunch in my hand and cut through the bunch. I wasn’t massively pleased with the result at first, but now I’ve looked at it from a distance I’m quite pleased.

I also trimmed a little off his mane with scissors. Gasp. The top of his mane is thin and if I pulled it to shorten it there wouldn’t be much left. So on that part I have to use scissors. Get over it, anti-mane-trimming brigade!

And then I took some pictures. Most of the pictures I took in the washbox didn’t come out well as I didn’t want to use flash and it was pretty dark in there. But the one above shows a shiny wet horse quite nicely I think. Much better than the one where he shook during the exposure! Eventually he was dry enough to come out from the wash box. I tied him outside his stable to put some hoof-oil on and take some more pictures in the sunshine.

All in all it was not too eventful. I got quite wet, he got a bit stressed, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Once he was dry I saw that his mane still wasn’t clean. I think I needed to repeat shampooing and rinsing the mane as it was really quite dirty. Next time I’ll take more time on the mane, despite his giraffe impressions. Overall I’m quite pleased with the outcome and a dirty mane is easier to plait than a clean one, so every cloud has a silver lining.

Getting out of school. Part 2, The Hack.

One of the instructors asked if I wanted to come out on a trip to a wooded ride which took place last weekend. She had one more space on the lorry – did we want to go? Just an hour or so walking round with a handful of adults from the main yard. Yes, why not? It would be the first time we’d gone anywhere and we didn’t really know how he’d be about travelling, but if we don’t try we won’t know. They lent me some travel boots and a tail guard and we went.

It was a bit like this but the trees were smaller and it was much sunnier.

We took one big lorry with 3 horses in and the little one with 2. We went in the little one, which was new to the yard, and so the instructor driving hadn’t driven it before. After we’d put our tack on she loaded the working livery horse that she would be riding first, and he loaded OK but then started kicking, so there was a bit of a rush to load Drifter and be on our way. Drifter loaded nicely and was happy to find the haynet waiting for him.

Time to get going. Unfortunately at this point it looked like we might not be going anywhere as the driver could not find first gear. And pulling away uphill with 2 horses in the back in 3rd was not going to work. Just as we were trying to work out if we could try any tricks to get off the hill, we finally found 1st gear and headed off, with the driver muttering that she wouldn’t be stopping again until we got there. I’d like to say here that she is a safe driver fully certified for big vehicles and animal transporting and if she’d been driving a vehicle she knew there would have been no issues. However… we pulled out onto the main road in second …. onto the roundabout in third (downhill, luckily) and headed for the motorway. On the slip road she tried for 5th … and the knob of the gear-stick came off in her hand. She shoved it back on and we stayed in 4th for the rest of the motorway part of the journey. Throughout she managed to drive smoothly and the horses in the back were fine (there was a little camera and screen system so you could watch them from the cab). As well as her at the wheel one of the teens was there as a working helper. Her horse was awaiting vet attention so she wasn’t riding but was coming round on foot in case a second staff member was needed. She nearly wet herself laughing at all the gear change issues. Eventually we arrived in one piece. The big lorry had beaten us (they had 5th gear, after all) but not by much. We unloaded the horses and tacked up. As I’ve only tacked up in a stable before I found it rather worrying, but the teen did mine, dropping the head collar around his neck as she put the bridle on so that we had hold of him at all times.

After much faffing, toilet trips, paying, signing disclaimers, all 5 of us were mounted: me and woolly-boy, who was eager to get moving, the instructor on the working horse, Springy (the horse I wanted to buy initially) with his female owner, his male owner on a school horse and another lady (who was the one whose horse took such a dislike to the judges table in the Easter show that she was hard pressed to do a test at all). I don’t really know her or her horse, but obviously her horse is not always as brave as he might be.

We set off. Initially we were near the back of the ride, but Drifter expressed a preference for moving fast, so we ended up second, behind Springy. I thought we walked very fast, but we can’t keep up with Springy when he’s swinging along.

It was a hot day. In Cornwall a few days before it had been sunny with a cutting wind. Back in the Midlands it was just hot. Unfortunately in the rush to leave I’d left his fly ears and fly spray behind, but it was only towards the end that flies became a problem, luckily.

Like this but in Spring. Think everything being much greener.

We walked along in the sunshine. At first I was tense, worried about keeping a good distance from the horse in front, tense from the gear issues on the journey and just generally unsure of what to expect. I felt much better once we’d come to second place in the ride, because then Drifter was happier and also because when we’d been at the back the teen on foot was walking alongside us and I was constantly concerned with reminding him to leave her space and not squish her into the trees. Now we could just get on with being outside.

We came to a place where a tiny stream crossed the path. There was a little footbridge for humans and a muddy down-and-up path beside the bridge for horses. Springy refused to cross. He backed into other horses, spun and tried to get away. Someone else tried to give them a lead through but he refused again. We went. Drifter wasn’t entirely fond of the idea but didn’t put up much argument. Springy refused again. The instructor came across as a lead. He refused to follow. Eventually the instructor had to get off and haul him across from the ground. After several attempts the instructor went through the muddy up and down and Springy went over the narrow footbridge. I was glad I had Drifter and not Springy. We carried on and I enjoyed my calm brave little horse. There was one point where the ride had a little trot, but otherwise we only walked. I would have liked to have trotted more.

The path went alongside a field with a herd of young cows in it. I was unconcerned, pretty sure Drifter would look at them but not really react apart from that. Springy stopped. Springy was not going past the cows. So we took the lead. I got him bending away from the cow field and listening to me. He wasn’t particularly happy about the cows, but he did what I asked and we led everyone past the scary cows. The track took us past 2 long sides of this field and the herd of cows followed us. Springy was not happy. Springy’s rider was not happy. I was proud of my brave boy and we carried on, letting everyone behind us worry about the cows if they wanted to, but setting a good example. As soon as we were past the cows Springy rushed into the lead again, leaving us behind.

On that site there is a cross-country course. At various intervals we saw bits of the course. At one point near the end we came to a clearing with a “mountain” in it. A part of the cross-country course, it was a steep sloping mound of earth with a flat top so you would ride up, across and down the steep far side. The instructor shouted did anyone want to go over it and I didn’t realise she was serious. She asked if I wanted to do it, but I hadn’t really got my head around what it was, so I sort of gave Drifter a half-hearted “you can if you want” sort of an aid and he declined. Springy’s other owner (call him C) took her up on it and I was able watch and then I thought we could do it. I asked the instructor if I could go back round for another go and she said yes and asked C to give us a lead. C did … at a canter, but that was fine – Drifter trotted but came back to walk and we went nicely up, across and down. Simple as, although I think I needed to lean back further on the steep downhill slope. We were nearly back at the car park but there was one last adventure – the water crossing. The instructor was surprised to find that it was full of water – it must have been recently filled for a competition – so it was pretty deep. I assumed that Drifter’s general dislike of water meant we wouldn’t be able to do this, but again C went through it. The instructor gave us a lead through and Drifter went through the deep water without much persuading. It was a pretty big bit of water and he went through it with seeming enjoyment, once he was in. So there you are. There is no logic to horses. Crocodiles live in puddles, fly spray is too wet for him, but water 3 horse lengths across and 2 wide, up over his knees? Oh that’s fine! Of course it might well have been a welcome chance to cool off a bit.

As we got back to the car park we realised that the other lady’s horse, who is skewbald, had got really badly sunburned on his neck. His mane is extremely thin and his winter clip hasn’t grown out, perhaps because he’s not as young as he might be. His white neck was bright pink in a wide stripe after only an hour’s ride. I had long sleeves and a hat on but I realised that afternoon I felt a bit unwell from too much sun on the back of my neck. The ride had felt quite short, but if it had been longer I think we would all have suffered.

We gave the horses a drink, untacked and loaded the vans. Again Drifter loaded very nicely. On the way back the instructor did much better with the gears, although we still had to take the motorway in 4th, and we got back without incident. When unloaded Drifter gave some ear-splitting calls to let everyone know he was back and happily headed for his stable.

If there’s another trip offered we’ll go again (finances permitting) although I do wish there was more trotting. Drifter likes to trot! There was a second trip run for the teens which was walk, trot & canter. I wouldn’t have felt confident to go for that for our first trip out, but maybe next time I will, if there’s space for us and our canter work goes well.

Image 1 courtesy of dan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image 2 courtesy of Tom Curtis / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Getting out of school. Part 1, The Track.

About a fortnight ago I turned up to ride after work one day and found that evening had been taken over with an in-house jumping competition. I had known there were some going on but hadn’t paid them much attention. I hadn’t realised that meant there’d be no schools to ride in. Luckily I knew that on the previous weekend a couple of the teens had ridden on “the track” – which is basically a short path around the edge of some of the turnout fields. Officially this had not been opened for the year (it’s unavailable during the winter) but if they’d used it, surely I could. I was a bit hazy though on exactly where it went and when we were allowed to use it.

I made enquiries and it turned out that the owner was happy for me to use it at my own risk – before they officially open it for the year they check the rabbits haven’t dug any holes in the path that a horse could put a leg down. Also I was told we’re not allowed to go faster than a trot on the bit that goes alongside the outdoor schools. As I barely intended to go beyond a walk at all on our first solo foray outside the school this was not likely to inconvenience me!

I checked with one of the teens that had used it at the weekend and they’d not found any rabbit holes and assured me it was not possible to get lost, so I tacked up. I was nervous because I didn’t know how he’d be to ride outside the school. Apart from the one hack on the road with a staff member, quite some time ago, I haven’t ridden outside the school because there haven’t been any options other than the school or the roads. I was also nervous because although I’d been assured I couldn’t get lost, I didn’t know where the track went or how long it was. Now I’ve ridden it I see it’s very short and you’re barely out of sight of the schools/yard, so it’s really not that scary, but new things are always a challenge  for me.

So I opened the gates, mounted by climbing on the wall (it felt really odd to mount outside the school, but he was relatively well-behaved and I got on OK) and headed out down the track. Down the track – it was the first time I’d ridden him on any sort of slope which again made me a little less than relaxed and he was worried about a woodpile that might contain monsters (visible in the picture above on the left of the track), but although we were both a bit tense there were no real issues. I asked him to bend away from the woodpile as we passed it, with limited success. We got to the bottom corner after a few hundred meters. The path went to the right, but to the left the sun was glinting off a little brook. Apparently this was very concerning for the woolly-boy, who thought there were almost certainly crocodiles in it,

This is where crocodiles live

but after a brief discussion I convinced him we weren’t going that way anyway and it was safe to proceed along the path. After another few hundred meters we found a pheasant in the middle of the path in front of us. Knowing how pheasants will leave it to the last minute and then fly up in a horse’s face, I was probably more worried by the pheasant than he was – he was curious about it. I slowed our walk to give the pheasant maximum opportunity to leave before we were on top of it, and with a minimum of fuss the bird took itself off into the bushes, much to my relief. Another few hundred meters on we could see and hear two dogs running off the lead, but it turned out they could not reach us, being separated from us by a narrow strip of fenced-off field. After all of that I was feeling pretty confident that I didn’t have to worry too much about how he’d react to things – yes we’d come across things he didn’t feel confident with, but the strongest reaction he’d given to all of this was stopping near the crocodiles. I was in no danger of hitting the floor at any point, which in a way was the question I’d needed answering. I hadn’t known how he’d be when we were out and about and something a bit scary came along. Now I know that he’s fine, I can be more confident, which in turn will make him more confident.

We carried on following the path and in no time at all we were alongside the schools and the jump competition and then back to the beginning. A very short ride, so we did another lap. This time I got him to bend away from the woodpile and keep going near the crocodiles. We had a little trot up the hill and finished the lap with me feeling confident that I will be safe on him even when we meet the unexpected.

I did leave the ride with the idea he has strong feelings about water. He did not like the tiny “crocodile wallow”, he does not like it when the tap in his stable is turned on, he doesn’t like his sweat patches being rinsed off and he doesn’t like fly spray on him even if you spray it on your hand and then wipe it on him. This does not bode well for washing him. I’ll let you know how that goes…

A brief trip to Cornwall

  At the end of last week we went down to Cornwall for a couple of days. The main reason for going was to use the falconry experience voucher that I bought for Mr Sparrowgrass for his birthday. But while we were there we also visited Trebah gardens, which you can see in the picture above. That water you can see at the end is the sea and the garden descends to it, ending in a little beach. As you can see from the pictures, for once we actually managed to go to a garden at a time of year when things were in bloom! We must have timed our visit quite well because as we walked up through the water garden a member of staff stopped in amazement at the flowers and told us that a few days before none of that area had been blooming. Unfortunately I didn’t get any pictures of that area because it was quite busy and there was no place to pass other people, so we had to keep moving. Until our path was blocked by the girl trying to take pictures using a tripod on the very narrow path. Most unfortunately she was bending down to look through the lens while wearing a skirt which lifted up as she bent, revealing everything as people walked up the hill behind her. The skirt was not that short, but just the wrong shape for bending in. Otherwise she looked like a nice ordinary woman, who would not ordinarily go around revealing herself. Despite her boyfriend’s best attempts to stand behind her and block the view there was really nothing he could do about her underwear being on display. She was obviously conscious of it – she muttered something about knowing her legs were on show as we squeezed past her – but determined to get her shot regardless. I felt sorry for her and the hapless boyfriend but did wonder, if you’re planning going out for the day with tripod and camera, whether this isn’t something you should consider when getting dressed. I really hope she got a nice picture at the end of it, but I couldn’t take any pictures without getting her bottom in them!

You may be surprised to hear this was not the only underwear we saw on this trip to Trebah. At the bottom of the garden we went up a little hill to a view-point overlooking the beach. We were most entertained to see some of the coachload of young French men strip to their boxers, leap into the attractive looking sea, and squeal as the cold water hit them. We watched from our vantage point, my husband with his fleece on, me in my oversized hoodie and reflected on how much nicer it was to sit in the sun and watch other people get freezing cold than it was to do so ourselves.

In addition to the underwear we did see plenty of flowers, including primroses and bluebells as well as the more showy plants. The magnolia in the picture above left was the largest blooming magnolia I’ve ever seen. Each flower was as big as if I placed my hands together at the wrists and spread my fingers as wide as they would go.

The day after flora it was time for the fauna.

We spent the day at the  Cornish Birds of Prey Centre, where we had been once before, after which I had booked the voucher. It was nice to have some idea of what to expect rather than buying an experience where you don’t really know what you’re getting. When we were there before we’d seen someone doing the experience and come into contact with Andy, the falconer who does them, so we knew a bit about what to expect.

Mr Sparrowgrass spent a lot of the day walking from a to b with a bird of some sort on his glove. With one obvious exception all the pictures below are of birds sitting on his gloved hand. He was involved in the weighing of all of the falcons and owls, which happens daily. The smallest and lightest was the pretty American Kestrel. The heaviest, the red-tailed buzzard is not pictured here as I did not have a good picture that preserved Mr Sparrowgrass’ preferred anonymity. At the end of the session he flew a Harris hawk. I asked afterwards if it was at all scary having them fly so fast onto the glove and he replied that as they’ve got to land on the glove they’ve reduced speed enough that they’re not going that fast by the point they reach you. I was skimmed by a wingtip as the hawk went past me at hip height, and I can tell you they move very fast when they’re not about to land on you!

He enjoyed the day and I did too, and really enjoyed taking pictures, even exhausting the camera batteries by the end of the session. I’m pleased that I managed to get some shots with him and the hawk in flight in the same picture, which was quite a challenge. I was really helped by the bell attached to his tail feathers – I could hear when he was about to fly from behind me to Mr S’s glove. Those shots are not here for the same reason given above, but there is a shot of Andy the falconer flying one of his falcons in the display.

Andy was full of information and anecdotes. He told us about a falcon from the UK that was sold to someone in Saudi Arabia, shipped over there and subsequently found back in the UK having flown back on its own. He said “You can’t own a bird. You just care for it. No matter how much you’ve paid for it you don’t own it. You just look after it.”