As The Gate Swings: Riding vs Riding...

"The Higwayman", Sport cross country at Foxcroft. The feeling of this jump remains vibrant and vital...

The BigMan, schooling stadium after we were eliminated on cross country...

Sport, after a spectacularly horrid dressage performance...

Riches, warming up for Dressage at Foxcroft...

Orrin, leading the way at Granite Gap...

Talked with my friend, Rachel, this morning, and she told me about a very successful and satisfying ride she'd had on her newest Icelandic horse, Jór. He pushes her, and she meets his challenge. As our conversation progressed, I admitted to preferring those challenging horses as they make me a better rider. Rachel went on to say challenging the horse makes them better able to be ridden. Got me to thinking...

Growing up, I took each and every opportunity which presented itself to climb on a horse. I fell off perhaps as many times, but get up there I did. In college, I took Western Horsemanship as a HYPER option. Each week, I clambered on a bus with a small group of people and puttered out to a local stable to spend an hour in the saddle. The instructor was a quadriplegic man, relegated to a wheelchair for life by one of the very animals he capably instructed us on the basics.

There must have been a sign around my neck or an imprint on my forehead, because he began putting me on "those" horses - the ones who required a tie-down and a crop. But ride them I did. Later I found out I had what they called "stick".

I lived in Maryland for several months until I finally reached my beloved Virginia. One weekend, the group of us from the office decided to go riding at a stable somewhere in the DelMarVa region. My horse was rather placid and well-behaved, but one of the others was put on a gelding who just wasn't having it. I asked her if she wanted to trade with me and I would work him through his nonsense. She refused, saying "No! You'll make him behave!"

I continued to ride whatever anyone would let me. Finally, Sambora came into my life. Now, Sambora was, in my humble and unsolicited opinion, perfect. In reality, she was far from "made", but she and I learned together. When I bought Sport, he gave me as good as he had, and II was never more grateful for that "stick". My BigMan pushed me (and my buttons), but I pushed him, too. He and I learned even more together than Sammy and I, and he was the teacher who prepared me for Riches, Orrin, Mariah, Red Cloud, and others. Each horse prepares you for the next, making you better, improving your seat, leg, hands.

Part of my "job" when we were running the guest ranch, was to sort out those horses who brought some undesirable habits with them from their previous life. Orrin, for example, could be a little high-handed as his Orrinness was often difficult to contain. He wasn't maliciously broncy, but he could crack his back and hop around, and his feet sometimes were averse to staying on the ground. Still, he reminded me to sit deep and open, insisted I keep my hands low and quiet, persist in holding my leg to him. Mentally, I had to stay three steps ahead of all his fabulousness. And riding him, I feel alive.

In fact, last weekend I enjoyed my first ride since the months leading up to my shoulder replacement in February 2020. A delightful and talented young friend came down and conducted an impromptu horse clinic at the farm, and Orrin and I participated. It's likely been six months, at least, since I last swung my leg across a horse. Hector, my new PT, "cleared" me to ride as long as "you don't fall off". I assured him that was always my goal, so...

Orrin, in all his fabulousness...

Working on bending and behaving...

Saturday evening's session was a minimum of two hours mounted after learning some groundwork exercises. I have never done ground work, not in the usual sense. I have always been the #getonandgo type. But doing the exercises Sarah suggested really helped Orrin and I return to - then go beyond - our prior relationship. Then, she called us to mount up.

Those of you who know Orrin know he can, and frequently does, exude "Orrinness". There is typically so much Orrinness, he cannot contain it. Well, he's been "off" at least as long as I have, it not longer. Ergo, there was MUCH "Orrinness" with which to be dealt. We went backwards. A lot. Fast. We dropped our head and cracked our back. We did our version of The Wave. According to Will, we even had air and hangtime with all four feet above the arena floor. Oh. And we made mad shies to one side. Mostly the right. We were very Orrin.
But, we were also Fabulous (remember, his theme song is "Busy Being Fabulous" by the Eagles). He gave me some good moments, and we termed the evening a great success.
Orrin stayed at the farm overnight with his old friends Taza, Cholo, and Echo, for convenience's sake. His faithful followers home at the ranch, Kachina and Riches (who does exhibit somewhat more dignity), were less than thrilled the object of their co-dependency was gone.

Sunday's session was a good three hours in the saddle, including some "teamwork". We survived Mary walking behind us to encourage the "forward is the only answer" motto. We barely survived the flower pot with the flittering tag being blown against and caught in the fence where it flittered constantly. And wind! More wind than the night before and that made tarps and things move and and and! Chickens! Calves! Lots of Big Scary Things. But we survived. Again.

We did lots of walk-trot-walk transitions which challenged me to be soft and use my seat. We nailed them. Then, with a deep, fortifying breath, I asked for a left lead canter and there they were. Those moments of pure joy. A small audience requested I repeat the performance, which we did - to greater success. Then, the right lead canter took a little more effort, but we got it and rolled around a "circle" smoothly, effortlessly, as one.

When we approached our audience, I was accused of "glowing". Perhaps I was. I felt honestly good. In my element. I had cautioned Will the night before he would finally be seeing the "real" me. Even I cannot fully explain how it felt as I am not sure there are those words.

From the start box, I have always said I am not an expert nor a medalist, but by Harry! I can ride my horses. What's more, I can teach others how to ride them. I have always risen to the occasion when riding a horse that pushed me - Sport. Riches. Orrin. Logan. Red Cloud. Mariah. Cap. Blue Duck. Chisum. Famous Shoes. So many others. Craig used to assign horses who needed a little reminder a "Mommy Day" - which meant I rode them until they remembered themselves.

And following Rachel's logic, they would always be better because they made me ride...