My Second Trip to Dodon Farm aka I Swear I'm Smarter than I Seem

We’ve all done it.  We’ve all made fools of ourselves.  Some of us just do it more often than others.  And some of us do it on a regular basis.  I’ve been told there are two types of smarts.  There is book-smart and then there is common-sense or “street” smart.  Well, apparently these two attributes rarely go together.  And apparently I am of the “book-smart” variety, (yes, I did well in school) which is to say, I lack common sense.   And this is another one: “Some people are just really good at taking tests.”  Yes, that’s me.  Will there be a test on this, please?  I’m hoping my ultra-honed test-taking abilities will carry over to dressage tests (somehow I’m thinking not).  I’ve had the bookish, smart-person label all my life, and I’m okay with that, but for f*ck’s sake, I can be a massive idiot sometimes.  A lot of the time.  I refuse to believe I completely lack all vestiges of common sense, so I’ve given some thought to the causes of my frequent air-headedness, and here’s what I’ve come up with.    

  

      1.     I am normally in a hurry 

      2.   I don’t always take the time to think things through (see #1) 

      3.     I tend to be a bit absentminded and A.D.D. 

      4.   I spend a lot of time thinking about the immediate immediate and not a lot of time thinking about the immediate future, which means my “planning ahead” skills are a bit suspect (see #1 and #3)

I don’t really agree with the term “absent” minded.  While the dictionary definition of absentminded, “preoccupied” could be my life’s motto, I take issue with the word “absent.”  Implying the mind is nowhere to be found.  I‘m actually too much “present” minded.  I am in my head all the time, often preoccupied thinking about one thing while doing another.  Which means I am too busy over-analyzing the tightness present in my  left hip which is causing my left leg to slip back over fences, and lose the occasional stirrup and what stretches, warm-up and foam rolling exercises would be beneficial to correct this, than to think about the most logical way to load the dishwasher. 

Now, remembering my list of excuses above for my frequent forays into idiocy, I will move on to a section of my blog post which I am calling I SWEAR I AM SMARTER THAN I SEEM.

I head to the barn Saturday evening to clean Kerry’s tack in preparation for Sunday’s event (she is taking Rock star novice for me).  While there I get a very helpful lesson on tack cleaning (thank you Elizabeth Darr).  Laugh all you want about my rudimentry tack cleaning knowledge, but I’ve NEVER been to a show before, which also means I’ve NEVER cleaned tack in preparation for a show before (newbie eventer, remember?).  I don’t know if there is some special show ritual for cleaning tack.  Do you use special saddle soap, is there a special order, some unwritten but well-known process of cleaning tack for a show?  These are all things I don’t know.  And this isn’t tack cleaning for me, its tack cleaning for Kerry, so, you know, it needs to be done right.  The good news is cleaning tack for a show is the same as cleaning tack normally, but more thorough, so I feel I was successful with the cleaning aspect.  The bad news is I unfortunately wasn’t there the next morning when Kerry was prepping for the event, so hopefully I managed to put everything back together correctly. 

While at the barn cleaning tack, it does not occur to me to go ahead and grab my helmet, gloves, boots and half chaps, which I will need for tomorrow morning’s trek to Dodon Farm.  I blame it on the wine I had with me for tack cleaning endevours, but we know the truth (#4 above).  My lack of preparation and forthought lead to an additional 20 minutes added to my early morning trip, as I retrieve these items from the barn which I could have easily grabbed the night before when I WAS RIGHT THERE. 

Necessary riding equipment acquired and I’m on my way to Dodon Farm.  I am CONVINCED I need to take I-70 to get there, and as such I do not plug in my GPS until I reach the highway.  Which I then promptly ignore as I drive past my exit.  An hour and 20 minutes later, I arrive. On my trip home, I immediately plug in the GPS and it proceeds to take me a completely different route  (no I-70 necessary) and I make it home in an hour. I swear I’m smarter than I seem.  

I am doing some work for Steuart Pittman for Retire Racehorse Training Project (RRTP) and in exchange he is giving me some much welcomed riding lessons whenever our schedules coincide and I can make the trip to Dodon Farm.  (www.retiredracehorsetraining.org  CHECK IT OUT).  Last time I was here I made a bit of an ass of myself by crashing through an oxer and subsequently leaving my helmet and gloves (see blog post My Visit to Dodon Farm).  So, I’m figuring it can only go up from there.  I’m not nearly as nervous as I was last time, which I’m hoping will translate into some more relaxed riding.  A lot has changed at Dodon since my previous visit and I give myself the self-guided tour of the new barn, which is amazing.  There is something peaceful about being in a horse barn.  I could probably spend hours sitting in a barn, I enjoy the sounds, even the smells and the simplistic atmosphere.  I also appreciate being in a place that while neat and kept, is never really truly CLEAN.  Because its not supposed to be.  It’s a place where horses are loved and cared for, which also means it’s a place where horses poop.  I think its hard to take yourself too seriously around horse poop and I appreciate that.  It seems like a lot of aspects of my life have been very, stressfully “serious” lately and I will find and take comfort wherever I can get it, and if its horse poop, then its horse poop.  If I can just get to the barn, I’m immediately more relaxed and all of my big, looming problems, don’t seem so big and looming anymore.  I can take time to turn my focus to my horse, my riding and our partnership and everything else just seems to fade away, if only for an hour.  Sorry if I went too deep for some of you about horse poop, but maybe you should spend more time around horses and horse poop and see if you feel similarly. 

Horse poop ruminating aside, Steuart appears in all his glorious tallness and infectious enthusiasm and we select my mount, Laney (aka Lois Lane on Dodon Farm’s horses for sale page).  Steuart hands me a boot as we boot her up.  (We actually had to trade boots because Steuart handed me the wrong boot for the right front, which I actually noticed, kudos to me.  Don’t worry I’m about to blow all my horse-tack-knowledge points on what happens next).  Then he hands me what I think is some new-fangled fancy saddle pad as he retrieves his saddle.  He goes to put the saddle on Laney and realizes I’ve put the saddle pad on upside down.  NO!  I’m really impressed with my new low of stupidity embarrassed.  I mean, Steuart is well aware of my mediocre riding abilities, but not being able to figure out a saddle pad?!?!  I glance around for a large hole to crawl in, but there isn’t one.  For f*ck’s sake, really Julie?  Is this your first time tacking up a horse?  If my work for RRTP thus far hadn’t been spot on, I’m quite sure Steuart would think I’m a nincompoop.   I swear I’m smarter than I seem!

To top it off we are bridling Laney with some contraption I’ve never seen before, and I’m shooting Steuart loads of quizzical looks as we adjust it. 

“You’ve never seen one of these before?  They’re all the rage.”  He tells me. 

No Steuart, I’m still coming to terms with figure 8 bridles and apparently saddle pads, which seem at the cusp of my IQ level, this thing is way past.  The contraption in question:

Alright, boots on, saddle pad right side up, fancy Micklem bridle conquered and we are ready. 

We do a little bit of flat work and transitions so Laney and I can get the feel of each other and to warm up.  I never really get her round at the canter which seems to be the story of my life lately. 

**Side story**:  I had a two hour lesson with Tom (Waters) recently prepping for a dressage test (that never happened) and I could not get Rocky round at the canter.  Just couldn’t get it done.  Tom hops on (in jeans and sneakers mind you and NO spurs which are a requirement for riding Rocky) and he has Rocky lovely and round at the canter in 30 seconds.  “Julie, this horse should be making you look good!  He already knows everything and does everything for you, a monkey could ride this horse and do well in dressage.”  Says Tom.  Okay, maybe he didn’t say the monkey part, but its something he would say.  He hands Rocky back over to me and I STILL can’t get a round canter.  Mcuk Me. **Side Story End** 

And as much as I love my forgiving, willing Rock star, Laney is a bit more forward and easier to keep cantering, which is nice.  But Laney is a rock star in her own right over fences.  Very easy and comfortable to jump.  It's easy to see she enjoys it and really hones in on the fence once you point her at it.  She is faster and more forward to fences than I’m used to, and it’s fun.  I miss a couple of spots to the fence, mostly the long ones, but for the most part I’m staying with her and even asking for the extra step here and there.  Steuart puts me on some courses, which is good because I don’t practice a lot of courses (clearly I should).  He also incorporates some tight steering and correct aim, which I miss the first time around and we have an awkward S-curve approach, but work it out any ways.  And we do OXERS!  And I don’t fall off.  I’m feeling pretty good and confident and Steuart and I discuss my jumping before we do some cross country.  He tells me even when I have a good spot to the fence, I’m still just a little forward a tick too soon with my position.  I know.  I can feel it.  I need to sit and wait a half second longer.  I’ve suspected this.  Even when I’ve felt good about my jumping with Rocky I’ve suspected my bad habits haven’t gotten better, only my timing of my bad habits.  Steuart has just confirmed my nagging suspicions.  Still something to work on.  Wait and then wait some more.  I don’t know what my mental block is when it comes to waiting.  Am I afraid of being left behind?  Am I still trying to “help” the horse forward by leaning forward?  I can hear Tom yelling now “there is no reason in any riding discipline to ever throw your shoulders forward in front of a fence!  Ever!”  Ugh, he’s right.  Quiet the mind and still the body in front of fences! Only been working on it for a year now.  Maybe another year and I will have this habit conquered.  Steuart makes an interesting suggestion based on some advice from Jim Wofford: draw my head back (like you’re trying to create a double chin) right in front of the fence.  If my head stays back, so will the rest of my upper body.  According to Jim Wofford (according to Steuart) there are two sports where you never want to stick your chin out, riding a horse over fences and boxing. 

As we move to some cross country schooling, I give this a shot.  While a bit awkward and yet another addition to the ever-increasing list of things I need to think about in front of fences, it does work if executed properly and timely.  If you over do it (which apparently I was) then it can make you stiffen the upper body, which you don’t want.  So, just a small motion and don’t make yourself rigid over it.  If you’re interested, here’s my list of things to think about in front of a fence:

  

     1.      SIT DOWN 

     2.      LEG ON 

     3.      Don’t throw your shoulders forward (EVER!) 

     4.      Left leg at girth (it tends to slip if I don’t think about it) 

     5.      Hands down and quiet 

     6.      Count your strides 

     7.      Look at the top of the top rail of the jump 

     8.      And now: Draw head back and make a double chin 

     9.      Oh yeah, and don’t fall off

So, that’s a lot to remember and execute well in the seconds before a fence.  Perfect practice makes perfect.  I need to master a few of these until they are automatic (good habits!) and then move on to the next few. 

Alright, more about my cross country schooling.  Laney is a forward horse, so I secretly have concerns about her running away with me.  But she doesn’t!  She is obviously a very well-trained horse, because you get the impression she WANTS to take off like a bullet, but she knows better and waits for her rider’s cues.  We go over logs and roll tops and take an awkward one over a coop.  And we do my first chevron!  Made easier by the fact it was flanked by two large blue barrels, but still, it was my first!  Now we are adding a ditch and a down bank.  Apparently I like to tell Steuart when he is asking me to do something I’ve never done before (aka a down bank and an up bank).  Steuart then likes to make me do these things.  He’s incredulous over my lack of experience with banks.  The up bank is easy, but down banks TERRIFY me.  (See blog post Things I Learned from the Olympics).  Which is impressive in its own right, seeing as how I’ve NEVER done one before and have no real negative experience with them.  Nonetheless I’ve done a pretty solid job of mentally freaking myself out over drops.  So we trot to the down bank and it’s a bit ridiculous.  Right before the large drop (small step down, whatever) I take my leg off and completely stop riding Laney and in turn she completely stops.  Steuart yells “LEG!” sounding suspiciously like Tom, and we quietly step down off the bank.  Sheepish smile.  Does that count?  Of course not, now we are just going to add it into our short cross country course at a canter.  Yikes.  Laney is doing her thing, I’m trying to do my chin thing (rather unsuccessfully because I kinda forget, see list above) and we do the ditch rather nicely and canter the approach to our drop.  I get confused, probably on purpose, miss the “drop” and we canter down a sloped hill to the left of the drop instead.  I miss the interesting tire jump altogether but turn it around and finish the last two jumps.  So much for confidence, steering and staying on course.  Steuart’s expression is a bit unreadable after I finish my mini-course, I think he knows I sub-consciously, possibly consciously, missed the down bank because I was, uh, scared, but he lets it slide.  It’s the end of my lesson and maybe he’s just happy we’ve finished with me still in the saddle, so he doesn’t push the bank issue.  I have a feeling this drop will resurface in my next lesson.   I do two more jumps specifically to practice my double chin and I nail it on the second one.  It felt RIGHT, I was with Laney, not a split second ahead of her.  Her motion moved me into my motion.  Now if I can just memorize and replicate. 

We head to the barn and I get Laney untacked and ready for turn out and I’m searching everywhere for her halter.  Finally I ask Steuart and he says, “you’re holding it aren’t you?”  Why, yes, yes I am.  And now I’m looking for that hole to crawl into again right after I get back from turning Laney out in the wrong pasture.  I swear I’m smarter than I seem.

The coop coup d'état

So I'm all bright eyed and bushy tailed at the barn at 6:30am getting ready for my morning ride on rockstar mount Rocky, and upon cleaning his feet, I notice a loose shoe.  Damn, no dewy, crisp morning hack for us today.  I retire Rocky to his stall and I consider going back home and subsequently back to bed or at least the couch.  

OR........since I'm all booted, half-chapped and spurred up, I could ride.....

Bernie.   

Mcuk me.  I glance at him in his stall trying to determine his good Bernie/evil Bernie propensity today......

 ......and I swear to God he looks at me like this:

And then he throws one of these at me:

You can just see the halo, can't you?

Okay, alright, I'll give it a go.  But so help me God, Bernie if you kick me, bite me, buck me, rear me, throw me or in some other way cause me bodily harm....!  

I will cry. 

And then I will catch you and return you to your stall and cry some more over my latest defeat and your latest victory. 

The score thus far is Bernie 4  vs  Julie 0

So, the odds aren't in my favor. 

We get tacked up and the bridle is still fitted for Rocky's big noggin, who I rode yesterday morning.  This means (deductive reasoning alert!) Bernie was not ridden yesterday (I often rely on others to ride Bernie).  Which probably means Bernie hasn't done any work since......Saturday.  Two days.  In Bernie world, this is an eternity.  By now he's probably forgotten he's actually broke and will revert to a bull named Fu Man Chu, bucking wildly upon mounting.  Combine this with the fact that he wasn't actually RIDDEN on Saturday, (I only walked him, via lead rope across the street to the terrifying cross country course) and this isn't boding well.  But..... he only tried to kill me once on Saturday by trying to run me over and then bucking and farting in my general direction, sooooo, maybe we've turned a corner. 

Before riding Bernie, I like to lead him around the ring and let him stare at things and possibly react.  This is more for me than for him.  I like to know, before mounting, what things/areas he's going to pretend to be afraid of.  If I was a betting woman (which I am) I would bet on the two large blue barrels.  And I would be......

Right.  

While Bernie is completely unoffended and unimpressed by these barrels (even when I smack them with my whip!) before I am rider up, once mounted, these barrels become inherently suspicious.  

The only thing suspicious here, is you, Bernie.  You scammer spooker.  I just proved to BOTH of us that the blue barrels are NOT scary.  Yet you still proceed with your wide-eyed looks and sideways dance.  But I know the truth. 

YOU ARE A FAKER BERNIE! 

And the punishment for faking, is whipping.  So just go ahead and trot on past with your head down and slightly bent to the inside.  And we do. 

And we trot pretty circles and then we canter, lots, because I need to practice relaxing and sitting down at the canter AND a tired Bernie eases my mind a bit.  And then we canter some pretty circles, at least I think they are pretty and since there was no one there to observe and refute my statement, they were pretty.  And I'm feeling damn good about this ride.  Almost good enough to.....jump?  But the jumps are all set higher than my Bernie-riding confidence level (I would like to note, I rocked through all these fences yesterday on rock star Rocky!  Go me!  And, well, Rocky, who did most  of the work).  The only thing I would consider jumping (height-wise) with Bernie is the coop.  I WANT that coop.  I NEED that coop. 

BUT....

......me, Bernie, and this coop....we kinda have this thing.....

This little bit of bad history, the three of us. 

The offending coop in question

And it ended with me, and the left hand standard, on the ground, the two halves of the coop aggressively parted from each other and Bernie back in the barn. 

There were tears. 

There was swearing. 

There has not been a Julie + Bernie coop attempt since. 

Now, Rocky and I eat this coop for breakfast.  But Bernie and I......should maybe wait until someone else is around to help pick up the pieces of potential epic coop fail before we try again.  Sooooo....no coop.  What we need is a cross rail.  A small, unassuming, could possibly be called a cavaletti, cross rail.  I would KILL for a cross rail.  I would do ANYTHING for a cross rail!  Except....dismount, set up the cross rail and then re-mount.  There are several reasons for this: one being if I dismount, it is questionable whether or not I will have the confidence to actually re-mount.  If I do re-mount, I will have used all of my confidence to re-mount, and will have none left to actually attempt the cross rail.  The second being if I take too long to set up the cross rail and re-mount, Bernie may forget that we were having a very successful, obedient ride, or that he has been ridden at all, ever, and could quickly revert into what-the-f*ck-are-you-doing-on-my-back-get-the-f*ck-off-RIGHT-now Bernie. 

So, no cross rail.  We do trot over a ground pole (without incident!) and move in the general direction of the liverpool, so all-in-all it was a pretty successful ride.  And by successful I mean I didn't fall off.  And maybe someday, after another rider has already jumped the coop, on Bernie, ten times, from both directions, with me watching, I will be able to mount up with coop confidence coursing through my veins and have my Bernie coop redemption.

Things I learned from the Olympics

Finishing on your dressage score does not mean you rode the dressage phase last.  I know this because all the dressage was on day one. 

Michael Jung is clearly a centaur masquerading as a man on a horse

Michael Jung + Sam = Mythical man horse being

Even Olympians will have a bad fence, take a long one, have a bad line, a bad seat, get left behind, lose their lower leg position and have a spectacular fall (like me!)

Okay, so I haven't had an at speed fall on a cross country course.  Yet.
I would like to note, this Olympic fall occurred while coming down from the
MASSIVE DROP

They care more about the well-being of their horse than making time or winning a medal

William Fox-Pitt eases home a tired Lionheart instead of pushing him to make time

Expecting my husband to sit through more than three dressage tests is unreasonable.  Once he realizes no one is going to fall off, he can't feign interest any longer.

Horses, even the top horses in the world, are still, well, horses and therefore completely unpredictable.

Not sure what is going on here, but I don't think that's in the dressage test

Don't be deceived by a horse named Mister Pooh

Are Olympic horses fed steaks for breakfast in an effort to convince them they have moved up the food chain?  Because this looks like it could swallow horse and rider whole:

And possibly this one too:

Yet these large, Olympic prey animals seem suspiciously unconcerned about being snacked on by these intimidating, predator-esque obstacles.  I mean, my horse is CONVINCED a plastic bag is going to eat him, yet these Olympic horses aren't bothered by this:

I mean really?

Move over Robert Redford, Mark Todd is the OHW (Original Horse Whisperer):

I see glory in your future!  But first you must lick this magical silver ball fountain thingy.

Don't question the Toddy, his horses don't either

The Kiwis can ride their asses off and then party their asses off:

This reporter is crazy.  Mark Todd can hold me FOREVER

School is in session when the Germans are in the ring and on course

Drops

Are

Really

Scary

My sentiments exactly

Since this blog post is about the Olympics, which were held in London, I am required to mention Kate Middleton's wardrobe.  So here's a picture of her shoes:

 A lovely navy wedge pairs wonderfully with her skinny jeans to complete Princess Casual Perfection

I am quite sure this horse could jump the actual London Bridge and Big Ben or Elizabeth Tower or whatever:

I NEED this bonnet!

"Happy 30th Birthday Michael Jung!  I turned 30 this year too!  But while you are at the pinnacle of eventing at the tender age of 30 with your shiny gold medals, I have only just started my eventing career weekend hobby at the ripe age of 30 and am lucky to stay on a horse.  And I'm not bitter."  Said me, never.



William Fox-Pitt and Mark Todd on course at the same time = EventingGreatsHorseWhisperingMaster'sClassCrossCountryOMGMindEXPLOSION



William Fox-Pitt is 6'5", making him REALLY tall; very similar to another rider whom I admire, and who is also REALLY tall :)


Mckayla Maroney is not impressed by this blog post:

My FIRST Cross Country Schooling

Dodon Farm.  Steuart Pittman.  We already know how I feel about this establishment/owner from my previous blog post My Visit to DodonFarm.  Steuart Pittman will be offering cross country schooling RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from me.  Thank you Facebook for keeping me in touch with people who (ridiculous blog posts and crashing through oxers aside) would probably not remember me. 

I am considering this.  I broadcast my consideration to the world of Facebook by inquiring about the time of said schooling.  There.  There it is in writing (kind of).  I am considering cross country schooling.  I am soooo considering this, I even text Steuart the day before to confirm times for the lower level schooling (elementary anyone?).  I could easily NOT go, I have a million excuses, my 9-5 workday being the most legitimate.  

Steuart leaves me a voicemail with the time slots.  "Will you be riding your horse that bucks you off?"  (bucks, rears, bucks and rears, whatever). 

Oh my.  No, no, Steuart, I want to LIVE.  This is my FIRST cross country schooling EVER and I would like to survive it in hopes of a second.   No Bernie = possible chance of survival.  

Bernie looks rather un-intimidating in his blanket and fuzzy bell boots

 I am running late. 

I arrive at the barn and Rocky, my rock solid, rock star mount, is.....eating his dinner.  If you've ever waited for a horse to finish his grain, its like waiting for water to boil.  It really doesn't take THAT long, but when you are watching and waiting (and already late) its slower than 5pm on Friday.   I make an attempt to pick his feet while he's eating.  Just.  Don't.   I retreat from the stall and continue my waiting.  FINALLY, I get tacked up. 

I have to borrow a vest.  As newbie eventer I have not yet acquired all of the appropriate eventer gear.  A vest just shot up to the top of the list.  (And after this outing, an appropriately sized helmet). 

We hack over to Loch Moy and I grossly underestimate how long this hack will take.  I am now a half hour late.  There is a small, teensy part of me that is slightly relieved.  I might be too late and I may not be able to participate.   I spot Steuart, decked out in Dodon green and he assures me they are running late too and I'm right on time.  Oh, excellent.  I manage a nervous smile. 

We joke about my blog (yes, this one, where I previously typed how I briefly considered asking Steuart to sign my cleavage.  Comments like that are amusing to share via internet blog, but slightly more embarrassing when you see the person again.  Way to keep it classy Julie).  I anxiously  nonchalantly tell Steuart this is my FIRST cross country schooling ever.   Aside from my melt down on rearing Bernie (see blog post And WeRide!  And then we cry....) I've managed a couple of non-committal trot sets in the field and popped over two different logs that are literally laying on the ground.  That's it.  Steuart looks skeptical (or possibly concerned since my last "first" with Steuart was my very first oxer, which I subsequently crashed through).  BUT, this is not trusty-steed-Rocky's first rodeo.  He is Kerry's training level packer, and she graciously lets me ride him, pretty much at whim.   

And we are off.  We warm up and Steuart tells me to gallop up a hill and then come back down a bit slower just to get a feel for Rocky on cross country.  I'm quite sure we quietly canter up the hill, and slightly pick up speed coming back down.  Steuart kinda gives me this look like "I saw what you did there, and that was not a gallop."  No, no it wasn't. 

He points us to the first fence and sends us (me and three other riders) off to jump it at a trot.  Oh God.  Do or die time here.  If you can make it over the first obstacle, there is a reasonable chance you will survive the rest.  I go into "Nike" mode.  Just do it.  We pick up a decent trot (for once in his life Rocky is a bit up and ready to go, apparently he likes cross country) I crank my heels down and leg on, especially the left one which tends to slip over fences, I close my eyes (no I don't, that would be silly) say a prayer and we make it.  Steuart tells me to do it again and to smile this time.  I'm trying not to shit my pants, but I will attempt a smile, for you Steuart.  We did it again with some coaching and then we canter it and another similar fence.  And Rocky is his rock star self and I'm making a respectable effort to keep up with him and its not bad!  I'm waiting for the fence, I'm not leaning forward and I feel....in sync with my horse.  This is new.  My heart rate is starting to come down a bit as we head into the woods.  Another rider asks how I feel:  "Slightly less terrified than when we started."  Which is true!!  If I can get through the next hour without falling off, crying or wimping out on something, this might turn out to be my most successful riding experience yet!

We do a little combination of a coop-y looking jump to a pheasant feeder jump thing.  And again, Rocky and I are feeling like a pretty good team.  We may even look okay too, because Steuart hasn't had a lot of correction for us (of course, maybe he is just happy we are making it from point A to point B without incident).  My own "in retrospect" critique would be to stay out of Rocky's mouth a bit more.  I was a bit, well, terrified at the start and gripped him too much in the beginning.  Towards the end I was more relaxed and so was he.   We finish our woods jaunt and head over to a ditch.  I've never jumped a ditch before (shocker), I have no idea how to ride a ditch differently than a normal fence (which I barely know how to ride) and I have no clue how horses normally respond to a ditch.  After some much welcomed instruction from Steuart, the first horse launches over this tiny little ditch and it scares me a tad (a lot).  Oh f*^k, is Rocky going to superman me over this ditch? 

Um, no.  He actually stops and steps IN the ditch. 

We jump it the next time around and true to his normal Rocky self, he does not exert more energy than necessary to clear this ditch, or the larger one next to it.  What I am finding challenging is steering and stopping after jumping.  The steering issue is caused by my complete lack of decision on where to go after we land. 

 It goes something like this:

"Holy shit we made it!  Woohoo!  Oh f*^k there's a tree!  Turn, uh, left!  Shit, don't run into that other rider!"

Finally Steuart says, "Julie, turn right this time."

And now to string it all together for a small course.  A whatta heh?  Did he just say course? 

I almost chicken out. 

But I don't.

We head to the first obstacle......and Rocky RUNS OUT! 

Well played Rocky, well played.  Okay, if you are going to FORCE me to sit up and ride, I will do it. 

We circle, I clamp down on the right rein and left leg, no where to go but over and we make it.  We trot into the water and do the obstacle again without issue.  Galloping (cantering, whatever) up the hill to obstacle #2, and its not horrendous!  Into the woods to the coop and pheasant feeder combo and our course is complete and successful.  Small issue with the brakes because my normally half asleep horse is ready for MORE!  We are walking back to the group and I realize I forgot the ditch.  I was sooooo excited to clear the peasant feeder, I forgot about the ditch. 

Peasant feeder? 

Peasant feeder, pheasant feeder, I mean really, its not feeding either.  To me it looks like the thatched roof of a hobbit hole.  While I'm on the subject, let's discuss the naming of these fences.  And by discuss I mean ridicule the ones I don't know.  Vertical and cross rail I get.  Bank, ditch, roll top, gate, brush, drop, and coop all seem self-explanatory.  Table, while really scary, is visually accurate.  I will even let corner and skinny slide.  But oxer, chevron, PHeasant feeder, trakehner, bullfinch and coffin (really?),  I have no idea what these are.  Oxer I've learned since I crashed into one, chevron I thought was a gas station, pheasant feeder feeds no pheasants (or peasants), trakehner I was pretty sure was a horse breed, a bullfinch sounds like (and is) a type of bird and coffin is an ominously stupid name for a solid state horse jump.  Not tempting fate at all with the naming of that one.  So to reiterate, I'm crashing through that oxer, running to the gas station to feed some pheasants (and maybe some peasants), and then I'm jumping the light-warmblood-horse to bird-sitting-on-a-bull's-ass to wooden-box-reserved-for-dead-bodies triple.  Uh huh, I got this.

Okay, ranting aside, I have one more mini course to do before the  long hack home if I'm to meet my evening clients on time (for real, not just an excuse).  Okay, over the house thingy into the water, out of the water over other little house thingy, up the hill over the lattice gate, over some log-ish fence, down the hill over another fence, back into the water over first house thingy again (optional).  Uh, okay, yeah, I can remember that. 

House thingy to water to other house thingy goes well.  Lattice fence was nice because I actually RODE to it.  I wanted Rocky to throw in the extra step, I sat up and asked for it, he gave it to me and it was good.  Log-ish jump was fine too.  Now down the hill to fence five we have what I think is a racehorse pace.

Just like this, I swear.

 But Rocky wants more. 

And I give it to him.  And its awesome. 

We approach the fence, I sit up and wait for it and its.....

Brilliant. 

And then I get lost. 

Water!  Circle back to the water!  Shit.  Approaching the water from down the hill you can't really tell where your entry point is.  Soooo...it could be your nice BN entry, 

awwww, so peaceful

or if you choose poorly, it could be a massive drop into the water. 

Massive drop

Needless to say, drops terrify me, so this is a crucial choice. 

You have chosen....wisely. 

 

Indiana Jones chose wisely too

We easily canter in and, in a brief moment of actual confidence, I even take the optional house thingy jump at the end. 

Things I learned:

Cross country is FUN.  The most fun. On a horse.  Ever.  This is what riding is all about.  I might could actually pull off a BN event sometime this year.  

Clearly, my main issue going cross country will be knowing where the hell to go next and not forgetting fences.  My normal, absent-minded, A.D.D. self will have to pay extra-close attention to course walks if I ever make it to an event.

Apparently my helmet is ill-fitting unless my ridiculous Rapunzel-like hair is styled just so to keep my helmet in place and prevent this:

Yeah, that guy can't see so well

Rocky LOVES cross country.

Steuart Pittman really is as awesome as I remembered.  And still really tall. 

Storing a check in your half-chap on a hot day is less-than-brilliant and it will disintegrate upon attempted retrieval.  Fail.  As they say, the check is in the mail.  (No, really, it is)

Later that week:

As I am still coming down from my cross country schooling cloud 9, Dodon Farm posts this on their facebook page:

Working Student / Apprentice Opening: Our summer working student, Katie Klenk, has made the position indispensable. We must replace her. Seeking an outstanding rider with a great work ethic. Arrangement can include housing, a  horse or no horse, and includes grooming, riding, some stalls and feeding, and the best work environment and education anywhere. Email resumes to Steuart  Pittman at dodonfarm@verizon.net. We will select only one applicant.

OMG.  This innocuous post is literally my dream job.  Forget the resume (which BTW, mine is very nice, full of all sorts of un-horsey-related skills, unless your horse needs a logo), I would GROVEL AND BRIBE for this.   If I wasn't too old to be considered a "student", and didn't have need of my full-time job to pay for my full-time bills and full-time responsibilities and if they removed could be lenient on the whole "outstanding rider" requirement, I COULD DO THIS!!!