The promised clinic report (LONG). Spoiler: I survived. (-:
Arrived at the clinic at 8:15 AM. On the way, I discovered that I was low on gas. As I was driving into town (a town with plenty of open acreage but not so many gas stations), I noticed that I had three miles to go before reaching the host barn-- and three miles of fuel range left on the trip computer. Not being much of a risk taker, I took the little bit of extra time I had to fuel up in town before heading to the barn. I imagined that I wouldn’t make quite the impression I hoped to make if my first contact with the clinic hosts was, “Could you please pick me up on the side of the road?”
Once there, I took care of payment and registration, dropped off the side dish I’d made in the fridge, and met my horse-- a fancy looking solid paint/QH who could have successfully masqueraded as a warmblood. I explored the (beautiful, bright, clean) host facility and chatted for a while as others filtered in, then we shifted to the indoor where round tables and chairs had been set for the riders and auditors for the morning’s unmounted session.
Masters and staff of the local hunt sat at long tables in a panel in front of us. Over the course of two or so hours, they covered topics ranging from membership options, guest privileges and capping fees to etiquette, turnout, and rider dress, to horse suitability and selection, to field protocol and community stewardship. For me, at least, they really captured the importance of adherence to tradition as a means of honoring the sport, the landowners, and the community. I’ve been volunteering for the hunt’s workdays for several months, and I’ve yet to meet a member or staff member who isn’t friendly and welcoming-- great ambassadors for the sport.
After lunch (and cookies), we headed to the stalls to tack up for the mounted session. There had been some question as to whether rain might interfere with plans to use the outside course, so a gymnastic grid and a few other fences had been set in the indoor as a fallback plan. As it turns out, the weather held off, so the riders (there might have been 15+/-) were split into two groups. One group, for largely non-jumping or aspiring third field riders, began in the indoor then moved to the outdoor sand ring. The other, for aspiring first or front-of-second field riders, started in the outdoor sand ring then moved to the outside grass course.
I went outside, adjusted stirrups, and warmed up in both directions. Once all the riders had made their way up to the ring, we congregated around the clinician (the host facility’s head trainer, who both shows and has hunted). She reiterated some of what the hunt staff had discussed in the morning session with regard to effective riding in the hunt field: maintaining spacing, heels down, head and eyes up and aware, adjustability, not unwittingly training in misbehavior, immediate responsiveness to staff directives, etc. We headed back to the rail and worked in a line with 2 or 3 horse lengths’ spacing at a working trot. We did a little bit of work in two point and standing in the stirrups before working in pairs at a canter in both directions.
Jumping started with trot poles to an X with a canter pole on the landing side. Once all established the active (not necessarily faster) trot required to properly negotiate the trot poles, a small vertical was added on the other side of the canter pole. Once all were through the in-and-out, the second fence became an oxer, and all went through again. At some point, it became apparent that some of the (really nice) school horses who had been leased to clinic participants were feeling their oats, having more fun, perhaps, than a usual afternoon’s lesson might offer up.
My horse (who was wonderful, and a far better horse than I could ever hope to own), was a little fresh now and then, too, sometimes gleefully jamming his head down coming off a jump (though never actually offering a buck). For me, there was a little bit of strong half halting and kicking on to ride out of these situations. Less than tactful looking, but I managed to keep myself in the tack.
It’s been a long time since I’ve jumped much more than x’s and tiny verticals, so the little bit of extra height exaggerated my habit of jumping with a hip angle too closed-- and landing in a bit of a heap. This is obviously not what you want to do when your horse feels like putting his head down and playing (or when riding on uneven terrain), so this is something I know I need to work on. On the front side of the fence, I have to get rid of the habit of trying to jump with my body, letting the horse come up to me instead. If I can figure this out (plus continue to get stronger as I ride more), I think I can clean up the “away” a bit.
Before moving to the grass course, we cantered down to a single, natural, fat-looking roll top. My eye for height is lousy these days-- it might have been 2’6", but looked big and solid. We cantered it away, happily, and without incident. Once everyone who was comfortable with the fence had jumped it, we moved out to the grass.
On the outside course, we rode in teams of three or four. I led my team (not because of me, but because we knew my horse would go) over a small post and rail fence, down a hill and back up on a lefthand turn over a log, one stride to another, then three (or forward two) to a small log pile. We then turned left back over the post and rail, then right over another log and a flattop box. Each group did this course a couple of times, then tried to negotiate a “stream” (an empty open water). My horse would have none of it. I couldn’t even convince him to be led over it by a more amenable horse, or on foot while dangling a carrot. (-:
I’d had a good day and was beat, so I stayed on the ground following our abortive water crossing. Those who were still mounted cantered the post and rail and made a righthand turn to a rolltop, then “held hard.” After over two hours in the tack, we wrapped up with this, carrots, and apples for all.
I think the neatest thing about the group of riders was how divers we were. Young 20-somethings, 30’s and 40’s and older, some on school horses who had hunted, some on school horses and own horses who had never been out of the ring, and one genuinely green horse being (well) ridden by a young professional through its first in-and-out and more. All different types of horses and all different types of rider backgrounds. The riders all seemed eager to learn and genuinely happy to be there.
It was, for me, probably the first time I’d stayed on the back of a horse for over two hours since childhood. Even as a child, it didn’t happen often. I learned that I’m not as fit as I could or should be (and I’m a relatively active person). I’m beginning to rethink whether a half hour private lesson (what I currently do) is really best for me. There seems to be a potential fitness benefit from taking the 1-hour group or semiprivate option. I still feel as though I received plenty of instruction (and affirmation of known, lifelong equitation problems) in a very full ring, plus I benefitted by watching other riders and horses work through their issues.
While I’d like to join the hunt as a riding member this year, I think my social membership will have to do for mow. As a mother of two young children (3 years and 8 months) coming off a long unpaid maternity leave, paying a subscription fee and initiation for something only I can enjoy would be a bit of a selfish indulgence right now (never mind finding and paying for a lease on a horse who wouldn’t kill me in the field while I learn, plus lessons on said horse). Hopefully next year, when household finances are a little bit more normal and no further children are forthcoming, I might be able to join as a riding member and figure out how to get out more.
For now, I’m going to enjoy taking lessons, stay fit, and wait until the time is right. (-:
