On this particular day I was riding the dressage school master. He’s a really sweet Danish Warmblood that acts as though he’s a four year old. Very playful, flirting with all the girls. I think he’s experiencing a mid-life crisis.

During the lesson I was working on, ah make that, struggling with suppling and bending. Wait a minute. I’m always doing that. <sigh> My pattern was to leg yield from the quarterline to the rail and on the opposite side I would ride one big loop.

Huh, I sense a pattern here. Bending, outside rein, control the shoulder… I may not have been riding a 20-meter torture circle but all the aids were there. Pretty sneaky.

As I started my turn down the quarterline for another leg yield I accidentally hit the gas pedal, uh-oh.

Simultaneously, he spooked at something, double uh-oh.

I haven’t cantered him yet. I’ve seen him canter. Big, huge, powerful canter strides. Leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Scary.

In slow motion

“Oh, this again?”
(HELLO! Big, scary, leaping tall buildings canter here!)

No immediate traffic

Switch right rein to left hand

Drop whip

Take right rein back

Watch my instructor moving into our path with arms extended <gulp>

Uh-oh, we’re going to plow through her!

Tapping the brakes

Halt!

Wow! Great brakes! Rotten transition. I found myself perched a bit too far forward and more on my stirrups then my seat but I rode it out. Wait! I kept both stirrups! Yipppppee!

My instructor was pleasantly surprised and so was I. We wrapped things up with circles at the other end of the arena.

Advertisements