May 14, 2006: DG BAR... INTERESTING

DG Bar was neither the show I had expected nor hoped that it would be, at least from the standpoint of the performances that Quila and I put in (though the DeGroot’s hospitality and Friday Night’s party did not disappoint!)...

We were unable to school on Wednesday in or near the ring we would be showing in because they were still working (and continued to work until nearly 1 AM!!!) to perfect the footing (and let me say that DG Bar has the finest footing and is the best run show of ANY that we have ever attended, no ifs, ands or buts). I was not concerned. Quila was relaxed, and confident, and had handled the 5 hour trip well. We had a great schooling session.

On Thursday morning, things continued smoothly in our warm-up. The rings on the side where I was to show were mislabeled “6”, “7” and “8”, but were really a warm-up (identical in appearance to the show rings) and rings 6 and 7. I didn’t find this out until after my class. So I warmed up in one of the other FIVE warm-ups. There is no shortage of warm-up space at DG Bar!!! (6 warm-up arenas for 7 rings is pretty amazing, isn’t it! 8 if you count the area used by the saddle fitters and the lunging area.) I then moved to our ring, and was trotting around outside when I committed THE FATAL ERROR. I saw the judge leave the stand and enter the ring, and took my attention from the job at hand to see what the heck she was doing. Quila decided that if I wasn’t going to give the test my entire attention, then she was going to be in control. After all, she KNEW she could do a much better job than I could. She’d been taking care of me for years, and she really wanted her job back. Then she saw the gremlins in the uncut alfalfa, very tall alfalfa that was able to shelter A LOT OF GREMLINS, right behind the judge’s booth, and she decided that it was a damn good thing that she was in control, because this was going to take all the mare finesse she had to get us through the test safely. She was scared to death, but she could do this... if she did it quickly enough. YIKES!

I rapidly realized my grave mistake, and recognized the reappearance of the “old Quila”, and rode a series of trot-halt transitions, and tried a “coup” to regain my position of authority. I was actually pretty proud of myself that I succeeded during the trot work... there were brief moments where she’d rush, but for the most part, I was the leader, and we did it my way. Things began to spiral out of control, though, and went more and more her way after the walk, and were under my direction for briefer and briefer periods of time thereafter. The test was marred with tension, a few spooks in the neighborhood of “C” (nothing major, just I couldn’t “quite” keep her on the track, and some jigging in the walk. It was definitely NOT one of our best. We ended with a 56% and 5th in a rather large class. Quila wasn’t the only horse that saw the gremlins...

I was VERY disappointed in myself. I couldn’t be angry with Quila. And I resolved that I would set things to right the following day--I also planned to warm-up in the adjacent arena, so I could work on facing down the gremlins BEFORE the test. Apparently the gremlins had moved on of their own accord, because she didn’t even blink when I got her over there the next morning. Our difficulties were of an entirely different type. She’d not had a good night, according to the night watch (I always get the night watch service--it allows ME to sleep better at night), and had been rather restless. I think the heat (25 degrees more than at home) was getting to her, even though I was pouring electrolytes into her and she was drinking really really well. We were also lucky to get ride times in the morning, before the heat got to its worst.. In the morning, she didn’t want to “come out and play.” She was happy to see me until I picked up her halter. Then she turned her back to me and put her head in the corner, and when it was time for her bridle, she was reluctant to take the bit. Her look said very clearly, “I am doing this, but it is not because I want to...”

Our warm-up was fine at the start, until just minutes before our ride when I gave her a walk break. Afterwards, I asked her to trot. She anticipated the canter after we went around the corner (like the movement in Test 1). I got after her for it--just halted her and scolded her--and that put her in a “mood;” it went downhill from there. When I went in the ring, she’d declared “Mare War” and we hadn’t yet had time to work through it... and for the first time in years, I felt like a complete and total passenger. I have never worked so hard in my life in a test, half-halting nearly every stride, asking for flexion in the corners, doing everything I could think of to try to get control of the situation. Nothing worked. I had the same feeling you’d get if you were driving a car down a steep hill and putting on the brakes, only to find out that they didn’t work, then reaching for the hand brake and finding it was out as well. Our test was F!O!R!W!A!R!D! but mostly balanced onto her hind end because of all the half halts, I guess, and to the external observer it didn’t look too awful. Too me, it felt absolutely HORRID! Interestingly, our geometry was nearly perfect, but that wasn’t my doing. We’ve ridden the test so many times that Quila knows it by heart (I DO NOT school it), and she did it perfectly, at least until the scary moment came at the end, though...

She turned on the after-burners for the final turn up center-line. We’ve never done a trot extension with that much thrust, EVER EVER EVER. I was half-halting for dear life every stride, and wondering if I was going to be joining the judge in the booth. We stopped (FINALLY) with Quila’s nose practically touching “C”. I heard the judge say to the scribe, “Perfectly square halt.” I have a feeling it was preceded by, “Holy shit! Is she going to stop?” and an urge to duck and cover... We scored 63.750% and won our class.

I was much happier with yesterday’s ride. Quila was still in no mood to be there, and in no mood to work. I can’t say that I blame her--the heat was miserable this year--but our ride was early in the morning, and we don’t require much warm-up (ever) for showing--a total of 30 minutes between walk and suppling/preparation work. I was clear with her from the outset that I was NOT going to tolerate her running through the bridle, and that we weren’t going to have a repeat of the previous day... we halted every other letter or so, and transitions were the name of the day from the beginning. If she wouldn’t listen, then she had a talk with “Mr. Whip.” It only took one or two talks (which insult her ego--she needs the noise more than anything to get through to her) to convince her that PERHAPS she should listen. It didn’t buy her enthusiasm, mind you, but it did get her listening to me.

Our ride didn’t go more smoothly, exactly, and we in fact got a lower score, but I was happier with it. My trainer said the previous day’s ride LOOKED better... it had more FLOW and the figures were more accurate, but I tell you, I’d rather ride yesterday’s ride any day, because it was MY ride and not QUILA’S. I’d rather have it go less well and have it be mine, and than feel like I might as well be riding a remote control robot operated by someone else... You see, on yesterday’s ride, it was pretty clear that Quila’s idea was that if she really hurried, she could get back to her stall sooner, so she was in “speed round” mode. I insisted that we do a “controlled ride.” I would half halt and rebalance, and she’d be with me for awhile, so I’d leave her alone for a bit (by that I mean, keep my leg on, but take a less active role), and as soon as I did this, she’d shoot forward, so that we had a somewhat herky-jerky pace. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have tried to trust her. And there were times where she decided the heck with me, and she tried to do her thing anyway and it would take me until the next corner or circle to insist that that was NOT going to continue. And I was working so hard on that that my circles left something to be desired--if the shape was right, then the size wasn’t, or vice versa. And we still did the speed thing down the final center line, but at least this time, I managed to get the halt in the right place. Phew!

The judge smiled and said to me, “Somebody is looking forward to getting back to her stall, isn’t she?” “Yeah” I said. “She’s 17, and has had enough of this heat, I think. Thank you.” I smiled my best smile and shook my head ruefully. What else you gonna do? We finished 2nd with just under a 62%.

She’s better, but we’re not all the way there yet...