2025 who dis?

This will be a long one: 

With my success I felt responsibility.  Responsibility to do honor to my roots and champion a cause that felt worthwhile.  I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to do.  Much of my early riding career was dependent on the myriad of people who took the time to coach, to mentor, to provide horses or show opportunities even though I had no way of paying for them.  Riding opportunities at HE will never be wholly determined on income but I was finding myself giving resources to many who already had access and opportunity.  I often wondered how I might do more. 

5 years ago I had the opportunity to move to Philly to work for a non-profit that meant a lot to me, it diligently provided equestrian opportunities to low-income inner city kids who had only seen horses on the television.  Many of these kids first thought horses were uppity, bougie and so removed from their world.  They had no idea how much poor, BIPOC cowboys had influenced the shape of the world.  They also had no idea how much horses could provide for them in the future.  In the hunter-jumper world alone, the job opportunities are endless.  From tacking on shoes (my god do we need more informed and skilled farriers), to grooms, trainers, vets, haulers, etc, etc, there exists a myriad of extremely lucrative and important jobs in the industry.  Instead of moving back east I dreamed of building something like that here, in a community who had so much history of racial and economic injustice. 

So with that said: 

Paperwork is officially pending, we are almost 501c(3) official! HE is ELATED to partner with @charles and @vince of the 8 second rodeo to offer riding and scholarship opportunities for kids underrepresented in the equestrian community.  The collective American consciousness is highly invested in the romanticization of the Texas cowpuncher, it values a sense of closeness to nature and simplicity of living that is wholly repugnant to our current digital age.  Likewise, military valour and Western European traditions of dressage and showjumping are replicated and reinforced.  Most can rattle off names like Monty Roberts, John Wayne or Mclain Ward while the incredibly rich and diverse history of BIPOC horsemen (and women) like Cheryl White, James “Jimmy” Winkfield, Bill Picke, Nat Love, are minimized. 

I created my barn to be a respite from the majority of trainers who complained about one girl’s braids, another’s language.  I wanted a safe space where we all felt like we were seen, heard and not merely pressured to conform.   I welcome this next chapter where we extend our door’s to those outside of the community.  

With this said, we are accepting donations of time, labor, equipment, etc. I have enough English tack to outfit an entire barn but we are looking for western outfits, western horse donations, and even clothing and boots.  If any would like to donate time coaching or tutoring, we would love to have you!  

Phew, a lot to say on the gram, but it was a particularly beautiful Monday and there was a joy I felt like I couldn’t contain anymore.  I am joyous on this development and I am also so joyous at the years of support from so many clients and friends.  Without you, I wouldn’t be here doing all that I love. 

Finalizing end of 2024 and 2025 Clinic and Show Schedule

November 16- 17 Jo Siefert Clinic @ Emerald Valley Stables

November 22 Groundwork and Troubleshooting Trailering Clinic

Feb 22 - March 9 2025 HITS Desert Series (two weeks)

June 12 - 14 Buck Brannaman Clinic @ OHC Eugene

June 16 - June 30 Cascade Shows @ Cle Elum’s WSHP

July 17 - 21 Oregon High Desert Classic I @ Bend’s J bar J Ranch

August 6 - 17 Summer Fort/ Fort Classic @ Thunderbird Show Park (two weeks)

September 5 - 8 Cascade Finals @ Cle Elum’s WSHP

For Huxley

The equestrian community is buzzing with finger pointing and incantations of animal abuse allegations. It’s as if these individuals can assuage themselves of being guilty by association. However, there is no bandage for these wounds, we are all guilty of rubbing elbows with animal abusers. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the heinous bits, the excessive lunging and the copious amounts of NSAIDS to get around another course. I have now bought and retired a mare who was overused and ill cared for by her rider. And recently how to put down another who was used, drugged, used again and then sent to me as a step-down horse. He could barely walk. And he was eight. How do we overhaul this industry? I’m not sure but I am hoping there is open conversation. Without finger pointing. We are all complicit. I am starting to think there is no ethical way to compete in this industry. I am hoping that I am wrong.

Jumping, forward.

Sara needs a proper introduction. It is a childhood dream to have a horse like Sara. This majestic creature owned every part of her six figure import when she came to the states, she was bold, she was brave and she was fast. Carol Hinckley purchased her for one of her riders but it sounds like the connection wasn’t there, Sara might jump the jumps but she wasn’t going to give her heart, she wasn’t going to go fast and clean just for any rider. Sara is a boss bitch, she is forever pinning ears at every gelding or mare that passes by her. I have always been a quiet rider, with the lugs it is the bane of my existence to make them do anything. I am a channel rider, a sit cool and let the horse shine sort of rider. A do nothing, enjoy the tea sort of rider. Sara is 100% my ride. In August, with three jump schools and one show under our belt we went into a mini prix. And we were double clear. What could we do once we actually knew each other. Actually practiced and got fit enough. Time will tell. I am excited to press her story forward as so many people would have never thought that a 16 year old horse was a viable purchase. And no one would imagine that poor white trash Ashley would be in a victory gallop at one of the best show’s on the West Coast. Our story is not interesting because I bred or trained her. I argue that really no one is to credit Sara for her awesomeness, she is just a force of nature. And we coalesce because I let her be, often head flipping, spinning and stutter-stopping, I just go with her ride.

Courage is being scared and doing it anyway

Aptly titled blog post. A lot of things are terrifying and yet here we are jumping head first. I have been isolated and slightly contained. I found myself at Split Rock last year with little preparation but enjoying every moment in that Grand Prix ring. I walked out of that class beaming but realized I wasn’t going to progress, really get my horse and I wanted to be/could be unless I drastically changed the schemata. A few months later I was at the gorgeous Heirloom interviewing for a trainer, I loved her enthusiasm, the softness when she rode and I was disappointed when my salary didn’t fit into the model. What neither of us knew was that there would be bigger plans which would eventually bring us back together. So today, a snow day. I couldn’t get body to Oregon City but I went to see my beautiful jumper in his beautiful stall at the beautiful Heirloom. It is a dream come true and at some point I will have the mental bandwidth to process everything. But I have been working hard, waking up at 6 out the door at 7 and riding/teaching at one facility or another. It is exhausting and I am thankful for people who appreciate and understand my inability to work on anything but my dream. Everything in my life is dedicated to this sport and I am elated to be challenging myself in a big, beautiful rings that will challenge scope, pace and track. Phoenix and I are up for the challenge. But of course change is terrifying. But we gallop forward anyway. And I have to admit it is a little easier when surrounded by friends who are also challenging themselves, growing and stepping forward. I am excited for team cantera and equimax. More on this after the clinic. It has been a few years since I have shared a ring with Bernie.

2023 Projected Show & Clinic Schedule:

Feb 18 - 19 MDT Schooling Show

March 18 - 19 MDT Schooling Show

April 1 Jumper Night @ Heirloom

June 14 - 18 Oregon Trail @ Hunter Creek

June 23 - 25 Buck Brannaman Clinic

July 26 - 30 Oregon High Desert Classic II

August 2 - 6 Split Rock Portland I

August 9 - 13 Split Rock Portland II

August 30 - 3 NW Spectacular @ Hunter Creek

Sept 30 - 1 MDT Schooling Show

New Year, New Promise....

I told myself I was going to blog every Tuesday. I fumbled last week, dragging heels because I couldn’t think of any valuable horse thing to send off into the world. The faulty premise one, that one would be reading me, scrolling this page for solo horse information. It is a myriad art form, the functional cohesion of collision with horse qua horse and as well as the ability to isolate the particular parts of singular and very specific body control. Real talk, riding is hard. The emotional toll, the fear of falling and the fear of failing working simultaneously with the haphazard duolingo of translating horse to english and vice versa. Let’s say these minor things are taken care of and yet the compounded difficulty of applying said principles to mechanics of one’s body and physically executing. Insert my fascination with yoga. I’m a gym rat, I beat the shit out of my body 5 days a week. I drown out the sorrows and inevitable back pain with some IPAs and choice wines so I’m no diehard health influencer but in short speak, my body is my money-maker. My phone gyroscensor clocks in a rough 20,000 steps on an average day, turning out horses, feeding horses, riding horses, bringing in horses, moving and setting jumps and all those steps I take for warmth or demo when I am teaching (12 years of teaching strong and I have never sat for a lesson). I have to go to the gym to keep it functional but the squats, dumbbell reps, etc. were a pressure for time and focus that I rarely was able to carve out and hold myself accountable to. Hence insert the yoga studio. I have been doing some sort of yoga since college, Casey’s mother took me to some blue-blood, member only club on the blue-line in PA and I fell in love with the quiet. Since that moment of made into a happy body burrio via a myriad of blocks and blankets, I have found solace, substance and meaning on the corners of the mat. Dirga breathing (lets just use sanskrit to make me sound learned) essentially box breathing is the habit that helped me kick lexapro. For good. No shit, yoga dropped the beta blockers. There will be upcoming revelations on how mobility exercises can develop feel and fluidity in the saddle but for now its important enough to start with pranayama, breath control as the foundational aspect to redeveloping our relationship with our bodies and through which, our horses. Horse training is the simple, repetitive recentering of the horse from flight response to thought response. Likewise training our breath to be slower, to originate in the belly and extend through the ribcage and chest, recenters our parasympathetic nervous system. We can train our body to relax instead of automatic levels of tension and stiffness. And through this we can unlock mobility of the hips and shoulders (spoiler alert - our major “stress holding areas” ) and actually follow the myriad of motion of the neck, head and back. But like training the horses, I’ll ease myself into using this particular muscle and quit while I’m ahead.

Behold, Lazarus.

Okay, okay. The cheesiness of instituting New Testament references a few days before New Years is not lost on me. I have been musing on how to proverbially resurrect this blog but I was perpetually at a lost of where to begin, what to write that hasn’t been said or inferred at some point or another. We are all striving for authenticity and uniqueness but if the professional equestrian lifestyle has taught me anything is that we aren’t unique, special and oftentimes are discouraged from being authentic. That is our own fault of course. But, I’ll take if far back. Case 1. How I learned to stop worrying and love the (drama) bomb. I ran away to a small barn in Oregon City and battened down the hatches against external tumult. I fired clients who didn’t mesh with me and pulled away from shows and hunter/jumper clinics which reminded me of how dysfunctional the microcosm had come too. The elephant in the room, two men I admired for their grit and determination had utilized their social capital to prey on young girls. This is more than an elephant. It is the explosiveness of a tropical storm, a hurricane that demolished the buildings, flooded and cleared the developed land that had become a community of individuals who I gilded as gatekeeper to the art of the horse. And I know I’m naive. Incredibly naive I wanted so much to believe in the successes of the self-made man because so much of my own story was wrapped up in the belief that if I worked hard enough I too could hone a mechanical craft into an art. What I didn’t realize is that by dismantling the idols I would eventually empower myself, find confidence in my voice, my experience, my skill. Then again, it could simply be that increasing age and experience simply coincides with the timeline of current events, an accidental coincidence but not a necessary cause for the freeing of external validation. Stick with me, this goes back to horses I swear. I think the breaking moments happened at the Buck clinics. Where he talked to the crowd while I rode in freezing weather, rarely talked to me merely through. I spent the first day riding as I always ride in lessons, suspending thought and personal feel and simply trying to repeat whatever procedure told to me seeking approval and affirmation from the man on the horse, standing on the outside. I didn’t get it and Kat was antsy and I was forced to deal with the repercussions of an electric little filly who couldn’t keep in her skin as thirty hapless flaggers thoughtlessly, deafeningly “desensitized” their horses. Buck might have said three words to me at the clinic. He certainly never seemed chipper or engaged with a love for teaching people. And there I remembered one of his often repeated lines he loves the horse because they don’t exhibit any of the flaws of human rational, they don’t envy, lie or cheat. The myriad of mislaid anthropomorphisms, she fakes it to get out of work, she is stubborn, she is defiant, she loves jumping, etc, etc. aren’t true. I gravitate to horses because they don’t lie to me, what I see is what is, no ulterior motive, no complicated backstory, they are simply perpetually present, flight animals with very short evolutionary pronounced domesticated history. They are the wildest thing I have ever come in contact with, and with wild the perfunctory bs of late stage capitalism is temporarily abated. I am not a social station, I am not token of capital or purchasing power. Phoenix doesn’t give a damn about his Rambo blanket or the maker of the tanned-hide of another animal that is strapped on his back. In that clinic with Buck it finally dawned on me that the only approval I should be searching for is from the animals I throw a leg over. And with that I lost the flood for external validation, I stopped seeking for the thumbs up from Jeff, or the other Jeff, etc. etc. At the foremost of the decision process is the horse I am on and mentors can help me iron out other interpreters of the horse but I wouldn’t for a second loose the conversation between me and the horse.

Two months ago an unstarted Azteca came to the barn. He was wild on an Indian Reservation and then found his way to our farm. He is scared of his own shadow and I was afraid of what he might do, could do, would do. But I took my time. I take my time. What I don’t have in experience and talent the horses have taught me to make up for in patience. To wait, to let it happen. To go slow, to be present to feel present. The answer is so incredibly obvious and simple I almost blush to say it, but the key to good riding is to simply be in that moment with the horse. Not yesterday, not some future moment of skill but right there with the horse, where you and she is at. Every day these thread of present moments add up to something build something. To what? Well that only time will tell and isn’t that the mysterious connection and purpose we are all striving for? And I am just as guilty. Mindfulness is a meditative practice. Presence without anticipation or anxiety is difficult. But like all difficult things, it is beautiful and here lies the process of making a craft a true art form. Here begins the steps to the dance.

Essential Reads

During the first clinic I ever attended, there was so much reference to the Red Book. Buck’s book on groundwork is an absolute essential.

Tik Maynard’s charming story of his working student pursuits to find horsemanship and himself.

Melanie Smith Taylor reminds us why we do it in the first place.

Karl Cook showed everyone his tattered and heavily annotated Tom Dorrance and Powell’s instantly sold out.

Dressage Philosophy, really applicable to any tack. An essential read and the the last time you will want to reach for any sort of contraption. Burn the draw reins and lunge lines.

Sessions with Spooner

“Insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”  Richard Spooner quoted Einstein many times throughout the multiple sections of this clinic.  What does a theoretical Physicist have to do with riding?  And why, throughout the myriad of questions presented to the horses and riders, was the answer to take a push with the inside leg and take a direct or opening feel on the inside rein?  The weekend with Spooner was an important lesson in instinct and feel as much as problem solving and the courage to “think outside of the box.” 

The theme for the difficult rides, for both the younger and more seasoned riders alike, was stiffness to the leg.   A horses’ evasion for control is to get stiff in the body, stiff in the mouth and go straight.  In turn, we “get runaway with” even at the walk, the horse keeps control of his body and puts his weight in whichever leg she chooses.  Richard implored us, “not to take the bait, and the bait is straight.”   When we create a bridge with the bit, when we pull equally on both sides of the bit, we have given the horses something to lean on.  In other words, we make it significantly easier for the horse to pull against us.  When we pull on one side of the bit, we use the horses bilateral symmetry against them.  “It’s like cooking a steak” we should work one side of the horse at a time, bending them either to the left and then the right.  If given the, square-feel straight bridge at the bit, all horses will lean to distract us from the hind end; a horse heavy in the hand is light in the hind-end and simply isn’t working hard enough.  It was a general theme with the horses Richard rode during the clinics, the bolters, bidders, and stoppers, he sat relaxed, head over shoulder over hip, and pushed them forward as he worked an overbend in the body, one side at a time.  Focus on moving off the leg, the “hotter” the horse the greater the need to get them to move laterally off the leg. 

Break up rigor mortis. Ray Hunt “make the wrong thing hard and the right thing easy.”  Anyone that sits on a horse, like it or not, you are a trainer.  Horses respect and respond to definiteness, not necessarily “correct” and classical riding.  Don’t be afraid to try different things.  If what you are doing isn’t working, don’t be “insane” do something different.  Make the right thing easy for the horse and then stay out of their way and let them do it.  

"And now for something completely different" 2021 Schedule

2021 is shaping up for some fabulous activities. Our Richard Spooner clinic in 2020 was a massive hit, thank-you from everyone who came, CA to WA, to ride with the “master of faster.” We are looking forward to another fall collaboration with Wild Turkey to bring Spooner to the PNW. Anne Kursinski is also making the trip west, I am elated that her superb detail oriented teaching style will be made available to our group. So ready, get set, go ride!

May 28 - 29 Bernie Traurig Clinic @ Savin Hill Farm

June 16 - 20 Team Northwest Oregon Trail @ Hunter Creek Farms

June 26 - 28 Buck Brannaman Clinic @ Mt Hood Equestrian

July 16 - 18 Pacific Crest Open @ Cle Elem

July 28 - August 1 Oregon High Desert ii

Sep 1 - 5 NW Spectacular @ Hunter Creek Farms

Sep 8 - 12 Split Rock Tour @ Sonoma

November TBD Richard Spooner @ Wild Turkey

December TBD Anne Kursinski

2020 Schedule

March 7 -8 Jeff Cook Clinic @ Cornerstone Farm

March 28 - 29 Hierloom Equestrian Schooling Show

April 25 - 26 Quiet Rein Schooling Show @ Devonwood

June 10 - 14 Swiftwater Invitational @ Washington State Horse Park

June 26 - 28 Buck Brannaman Clinic in Medford, OR

July 15 - 19 Oregon High Desert I @ J bar J Ranch in Bend, OR

July 22 - 26 Oregon High Desert II @ J bar J Ranch

August 26 - 30 NW Spectacular @ Hunter Creek in Wilsonville, OR

September 9 - 13 Strides & Tides @ Sonoma Horse Park Petaluma, CA

November 13- 14 Richard Spooner Clinic @ Wild Turkey Farm Wilsonville, OR

2019 Show Schedule

As the christmas trees become part of the jump filler, we know winter is coming to an end and it is time to start looking forward to show season. Our season so far:

Feb 16 Jumper Nite Donida WA

May 22- 26 Bend City Opener Tumalo OR

June 12 - 16 Oregon Trail (and Bedrock Schooling Show) Wilsonville OR

June 19 - 23 Early Summer Classic (WCHR) Wilsonville OR

June 26 - 30 West Coast Classic @ Tbird Langley

July 24 - 28 Oregon High Desert Classic Bend OR

August 24 - 25 Oregon Summer Classic (Bedrock Schooling Show) Wilsonville OR

August 28 - Sept 1 NW Spectacular Wilsonville OR

Sept 11 - 15 Strides & Tides Sonoma CA

2018 Show Schedule

It has been a fabulous winter of clinics, lessons and stretching ourselves.  As the beginning of the show season approaches I am elated at the condition, performance and strength of our horses and riders.  Cheers to courage, practicing guts, and getting it in 2018! 

Febuary 16 - 17               Jumper Nite Donida, WA

May 23 - May 27             Bend City Opener  Tumalo, OR

May 29 - June 3 .            Thunderbird BC Opener Langley, BC

June 13 - June 17             The Oregon Trail Wilsonville, OR

June 27 - July 1                West Coast Classic Langley, BC

July 4 - July 8                  Western Family Langley, BC

July 11 - July 15                 The Country Classic Wilsonville, OR

August 14 - August 19      Thunderbird Summer Festival Langley, BC

August 21 - August 26      Thunderbird Summer Classic Langley, BC

September 12 - Sept. 16    Strides & Tides Petalulma, CA

Fall Schedule Forthcoming

Reflections from the first Semester, George Morris Clinic and the Myriad of Experiences of being a Business Owner

The last 15 years of quotables exchanged between Mr. Morris and I.  It has been some time since he stood on the ground and I in the irons and he certainly didn't have me shaking to my core the way that young, oh so young Ashley white-knuckled her reins as he was going down the lineup.  

This semester has been several things, my first months without consistent trips to a trainer to get in all down pat.  Fiduciary and temporal considerations tucked in my left pocket, I had to make the best.  Daily I watch videos of great riders.  I have always watched training and show ring rides but now I make notes and come back and set the grids at home.  I don't rely on my trainers to push me, I simply push myself.  If its easy, I don't do it.  If its complicated or terrifying, I repeat, repeat, repeat, oftentimes breaking it down into the simplest, non-trivial case for direction and then moving of from there (yes, I ride like I complete math proofs). 

With polished boots and a grey horse that shown like only a bottle of quick-silver and a case of tennis elbow in currying we stood at 9 am, waiting for George Morris to take his quip.  Lance was borrowed, yes I had ridden him a year or so ago, but with only a week full of jump schools under our belt I took him to Rich's.   And we were slow, my sitting trot on the landwhale was reprehensible and I was curtly corrected for my "chinese gibberish" growls at the first liverpool.  As the last year of riding has taught me that only my own efforts will correct my situation, there was three days of working of tack changes and spur changes and stirrup adjustments in that quick summary of his program.  And I rode, I galloped.  I jumped an open water for the first time in years and I think, by the end of the clinic we were making pretty good demonstrations of everything.  

Of the myriad of things I will carry forward, from determination a unending hunger when you ride towards each jump, the position of the hands in the half-half, inter alia importantly I will tell myself and anyone else that carries to ride with me that we must all own our education.  We can't expect our trainers to finish everything for us.  As they are not able to coach us in the ring, there are hundreds of moments during each lesson that they didn't see, didn't feel, etc.  We must continue to seek guidance from those more intelligent, more experienced than ourselves but we must always, always be the one constantly pushing ourselves forward. 

Reed College or becoming a Masters

I thought I might begin using this blog for my own edification.  Or perhaps an archaeological testament of the changes, trials and tribulations of a horse enthusiast with a myriad of unique talents and interests.  Last week was a new placard, a new step in a direction that I believe unifies the disparate worlds each foot stands grounded in.  In other words, last week was my first class at Reed.  And thus begins a more complete picture, I believe of what makes me wholly unique in this industry.  Horses for me are a lifelong love.  The passion, hard-work and quiet unity between myself and Zisel, that is typified most thoroughly in my love for life-long education.  I came from humble beginnings and it was nothing but raw interest in the world around me that brought be back time and again to the library.  It was a massive force problem, finding the kinetic energy to trudge up socio-economic divides and find a place for "poor, white trash" among the ivory tower elite.  Horses again, a re edification of that same problem, err, challenge.  At the end of the day I believe horses can be so much more than a social signifier of wealth and privilege.  It can be the medicine for faulty mental wiring; the smashing of the ceilings of personal limitations, from both internal and external sources.  Or, as I find it, the cessation of endless business of the external world.  Both in books and on horseback, the only focus is the matter at hand.  Whether it be a lateral shift of the left hind or the 4 foot fence approximately 3 strides away- in that exact moment nothing, absolutely nothing else exists.  Social pressures, personal pressures, the audience at the back gate or the patient instructor in the middle of the ring- the disappear into a blur.  This beautiful blur, where the only clarity is the feeling of horse and rider, THAT is what I live for. 

Step 1. Reed's Honor Principle

Giving Back

Hawkins Equine is looking for the next pony super star! Are you a kid or do you know of a kid that would like the opportunity to ride and show an adorable small pony? We are looking to sponsor a deserving and hard-working kid that wants to learn to ride and campaign our ponies! Send us a message and tell us why you should be our pony kid!

Regumate or How I learned to love the Mare

Two years ago I started a business because I wanted to offer more to my horses.  At first I was so strongly apposed to any sort of medical, herbal, hormonal, ad infinitum alternation of the animals.  When I started using Regumate I thought I might have been copping out or letting necessity trump principals. Like all initial conclusions, I let time, experience and education season it. 

If you have been following, I was bucked off and tore some ligaments in my knee.  Mr. Cook, my deservedly well-respected and well-informed coach, worried about my safety and the opportunities I was missing, spending so much time in the little jumper rings.  He asked me to be open-minded about selling my beloved mare and, wanting to be a good student, I spent my winter months looking into another horse.  Internet land- this is a BIG thing.  I wouldn't consider myself an animal hoarder but, as someone that has a troublesome time relating to other sapiens, I find a great deal of comfort in my horses.  All horses are special little snow flakes. But my special little snow flakes have helped me tremendously with the depression and anxiety of a wretched family history.  To think of letting a companion out of my life so I might become a better competition rider was a serious conundrum.  

A conundrum that again relates back to social depression and anxiety.  I have rarely admitted out loud much less committed to print a long history of serious depression.  This winter I was also trying my best to come to terms with a personal belief battle between the rationalist side of me, believing logic and theory could discuss away emotional imbalances and the sort of empirical materialist believer that all mental states are actually brain states.  The rationalist wanted to think away depression.  The empirical materialist actually started to understand that depression, like colds, cuts or broken ligaments, was a sort of broken brain.  Thankfully a broken brain that medication could fix. For the first time in my life, I started on medication for my depression.  Long-winded I know, but I swear it is related.

In this vain, I started thinking back to Zis.  Perhaps what had been labeled behavioral was actually a physical disfunction. Could having foals somehow change the way her body felt?Could it change the pressure on her ovaries?  Its not as if the damn mare can speak, so I did what any good scientist would do, I tried Regumate and I minimized the variables. What followed: a dramatic improvement on her behavior most importantly a willingness (gasp, desire) to go forward. 

Most horse trainers will think this entire post is silly, certainly Mr. Cook thought my complete refusal to try daily regumate was unproductive and juvenile.  And it was.  Blood, sweat, tears and oh so important time shed with this horse and something so simple could be the difference between clean rounds and not.  But where would I be if I didn't make mistakes, have some courage in my conviction and the good sense to know when I'm wrong. Of all the complicated things in horse training, I'm skeptical.  But a season has taught me to be skeptical of the skepticism.  

Eudaimonia or How I came to do what exactly I do.

Courage, empathy, self-reliance, quick-thinking, problem solving, disciplined, hard-working, ambitious and modest.  I spent my undergraduate education contemplating the Aristotelian abstraction of personal virtue.   Much better horseman have cited sound horsemanship as a form of self-mastery but I haven't met too many of them in the stick-jumpers. 

Weeks ago, a horse and I left the California sunshine.  Left a horse park where movie stars, second-generation coders and stockbrokers spend time in VIP tents and posh clubs.  For them the cost of riding and showing is so easy.  Like skiing, the recreational ride is exhilarating and fashionable.  I am extremely fortunate to share the ring with these riders and am happy to sacrifice holidays, vacations, etc. so I can develop my ponies at this level.  However, as recreational adults or budding children how do we justify the pricey dollar tag and exorbitant time suck?  When its neither glamorous or relaxing to show and train at this level, why exactly do we do it?

My answer came at a schooling show.  As a not so secret insomniac, I hate the one day shows.  Waking up at an ungodly hour (even in comparison to week long shows) the hectic packing of trailer, unloading of a group of horses to hastily school before plopping the owner back on and moving to the next one (HOW DOES ONE SCHOOL 5 HORSES IN AN HOUR, she asked). But all the kids showed up on time, carefully arranged their hairnets and did their best to contain their nervousness as I quietly and slowly recited their course. 

Some classes went well, others not so well.  Some students fretted with anxiety, joyous to be done with the day.  Others worked hard to take in notes and make thoughtful improvements to the ride so that historical mistakes would stay history.  Though the time in the tack was successful it was out of stirrups that I was most proud of my kids.  The quiet one, the one that barely spoke above a moderate whisper was yelling out the course to a complete stranger before she went into the ring.  The girls were bringing each other water, asking each other questions and helping each other get ready in that never-long-enough time period between one horse and another.  Girls were jumping on tables and cheering after a particularly great round (belonging to some person on a oh so cute pony named, "who cares"). 

I watched one collect her fifth place ribbon as she told everyone pinning ahead of her congratulations.  I watched another tell her pony "Thank-you for taking care of me."  I watched another mentor a younger all day, answer all questions and never loose patience. 

And I realized these riders had found courage, confidence, and compassion from their horses.  I hope I never loose the lesson. 

An unwanted but hopefully informative siesta

My business is a labor of love, an all engulfing lifestyle choice that necessitates the 12 sometimes 14 hour work days.  Though physically exhausting, the lifestyle choices are rather easy to make.  If anything needs to be done around the barn, I will be the first to get it done.  The horses will be turned out, brought in, fed, bathed, ridden.  The laundry will be done, it will be folded.  The troughs, the buckets will be scrubbed.  Sometimes the stalls will be cleaned or rebed.  I never lament these choices for these are the simple, medial tasks that allow me to recognize each nicker, footstep and breath from the ponies in our barn.  

In the whirlwind I neglect the unnecessary but mentally restorative tasks like this blog.  I don't talk much about my back round but at one point I wanted to be a writer.  I moved away from home and went to New York to study journalism.  As uncomfortable as I am talking to strangers is as at home I feel with written words.  This blog, my unrelated literary blog and the plethora of pages filled in the interim give me a quiet ease that I can't easily describe.  

All of this longwinded introduction to distract myself from something so easily weighing in my mind: my right knee and its apparent flimsy meniscus.  For those that know me, this isn't my first stint of knee complications (thank-you mother for bequeathing me with the apparent suckiness of patella).  The immediate concern is my inability to bear weight.  You know, since it keeps me from the aforementioned labors of love.   My secondary concern is the criticism the accident has heaped upon my horse.  

I should begin that it was Zis' matter-of-fact "I just jumped the standards" buck she gave me after our first meaty combination that solidified my assumption that she was my dream horse.  Zis, lovingly called sassypants, is an opinionated and obstinate mare- it took a good year to get her light to the leg (thank-yous go out for so many important lessons on calibration to the leg). In the past, light leg and she would ignore you, spur she would defy you and simply go slower, a slap with the stick and she would kick out and spurn you. But her pure enthusiasm and athleticism over fences kept me hooked.  Every since we began together she has a single buck after fences.  If you find videos of her father, he bucked after fences.  Heck, my absolute favorite PNW grand prix horse gives a haughty kick after a particularly great effort.

But it wasn't her quintessential buck after the fence that finally dislodged me, it was an out of the blue, basically in the middle of flat work to show a blatant state of pissed off that slammed my knee to the ground.  Am I suppose to send her up the road because she pulled a "young horse" and did something naughty? A great cowboy taught me that correct training was as simple as making "the right thing easy, and the bad thing difficult" and I have managed to weave it through my day to day riding.  Zis, you want to buck after a fence, well this bending line to the in and out might be kind of dicy but gosh darn, dig in and lets make it happen.  That put quits to the bucking in a line.  So time will tell with Saturday's antics but it is terrible science to make a generalization from one data point.  In the meantime, there are great trainers and handlers to give me pointers.       

Her blood and fiery temper makes her such a rocket in the ring and I don't think I can coerce her to loose her buck without sacrificing the very spirit that I think makes her great.  Instead of this idea of "fixing" her it is up to me and the people I train with to help channel her fire. With every every fall comes a lesson learned and will take the little bit of rest to continue writing, reading and thinking.