I Did It. But Not Without SERIOUS Trepidation...

We went on a trail ride today, and I have to say it wasn't really fun, per se. But it was something I needed to get out of the way.

I haven't been out on anything more than our immediate trail area since the entire "Do I Even Want to HAVE a Horse" episode. And when my friend and trainer arranged for us to ride the big ranch next door I wondered if I could or should.

I very nearly chickened out.

Smokey and I had several "conversations" on the trail. He was a bit up, but I knew I was significantly contributing to it with my anxiety and tried to get myself in a better frame of mind. I was only somewhat successful, but we did get some training done and made some progress.

Frankly I think *I* need some desensitization. I need some successful trail rides with him. I need to do some WTC rides in settings where I feel comfortable.

It's going to be a longer road back than I had hoped, but I did expect it.

So I plan on trying to mix in some travel to friend's places, to arenas, to just get out and about but not just trails.

I'm on the road back, but to be the leader I need to be on the trail, I need more wet saddle blankets too.

But at least today I got one. A tough one.

It's working

her.There's something about this last decision, this decision to be the same person in the saddle as I am in the round pen, that has really pulled so many things together.

It reminds me of that moment when you are sewing something made of many different parts and the first time you pin it together it finally looks like what you are trying to make.

Today I asked the trainer to ride Smokey to see if I was doing something wrong at the canter in the arena. I was somewhat relieved to see he did the same thing with her as he had with me - worse in some spots, better in others.

He has gotten out of shape and balance at the canter, and it'll take some more time in the round pen before he's ready for the arena. But she commented on how solid his trot is and how he's progressing on his neck reining.

Then I cantered around the arena with Lily and it was effortless, my balance was there, my cues soft enough, and we made our circles without bowing out in any direction.

Of course Lily has about 11 years on Smokey, and this wasn't about her being better at the canter. It was about my improvement in the saddle, my new posture being more balanced. Her confidence has grown too, and nearly all the tiny spooks were gone.

Tomorrow we may go on a trail ride. I'm a bit hesitant to be honest. But a combination of things should make me more confident. Smokey is getting turned out in a big pasture every day and getting to run off energy. His manners are vastly improved. My attitude is in the right place.

So we shall see.

Vulnerability - In more ways than one

I found this video in the last week, and it seems to echo many themes running around on the equine blogosphere of late.

It's long, but worth your time.

Up to my ankles

A great joy filled me when I saw that Lisa was reconnected with her mare, Apache.

I admire her, and Val, who recently got back on board after a terrible fall from her steady eddie horse.

This is this silly, crazy horse life. We decide to ride, we who are relatively fragile compared to the animals we ride, who have people around us who depend on us to be here.

I was talking to Trail Rider about his new colt who has some health issues he's grappling with. As a doctor his brain is filled with complications possible as he weighs whether to return the horse, or keep him and risk it.

Over and over again it comes down to these risks. These crazy odds we play in this horse life.

A day or so ago I took one more step on my horse work, one I recognized later in a video I watched. Julie Goodnight was walking someone through proper round penning technique. I was comfortable to see that it was all old hat to me, so I could watch for other things, more subtle things other than what she was talking about. I noted the way she walked in the arena, held her head, signaled.

Then it hit me. My new attitude is about being the same person in the saddle that I am in the round pen.

Bringing Lily back from being basically unrideable to her old self has shown me that there is a connection between the work I do on the ground and the saddle. Some of it was just getter her mind focused.

But part of it, and no small part, was me. And that woman in the round pen? She hasn't been the one riding. If the woman I was in the saddle was the same one in the center of the round pen, that horse would be walking all over her.

Hmm. Darn obvious now.

So I've been working on being the same person in the saddle.

And what do you know. It's working.

My attention and focus is sharper, my confidence high, my sense of fairness is on track so I respond appropriately and in time. With Lily I work on speed and control. Today we did our longest solo trail ride, her first one out since we've been working. She had two balks, very small, and we went right through them. Riding in a halter. (I have ridden her in a bit, just to be sure she understands that in my hands a bit is not a bad thing).

With Smokey we are working on my faith in him through control exercises in the arena. WTC transitions and neck reining to give me a chance to teach him something. Then, during one of our arena times, we had one of those moments that I haven't appropriately checked before. Caught it, checked it appropriately, not losing my confidence, not questioning if it was the right response.

Because I DO know what to do. I just need to do it earlier, and more consistently. I'm finding the spot where I'm not supporting him, not giving him direction. He plays with the bit because he is testing boundaries, finding big gaps, and the gray is too gray, too wide. I can see it now, and I'm calmer and more confident about what I do know. But I know what I don't know, and am working on getting those aspects better through practice and discovery on Lily.

I feel close to the spot I was before the bolt, and yet, in a strange way, well past it. I am playing the odds again because in my life, in my mind, in my heart, the risks of this horse life remain worth it.

Ride on, my friends.