Idaho & My Journey

Author: Sandy Gorman

I read last week – on facebook, so I’m sure it’s 100% true – but it resounded with me and made me reflect on our journey to date – “The Horse Knows”.   It’s us that don’t.

WOW, looking back through some previous TRV hosted rides and there he is – My Pony!  Before he was my pony!  I’d like to say he was a totally experienced trail riding horse when I got him (surely the photo proves it?!)  and it’s been a wonderfully smooth experience over the last 4 years.  But he was only just going on six.  And as wonderful as he is, we’ve certainly had our ups and downs.  We’ve lived to tell the tale, however, and without my time at TRV, I really doubt we’d be as well matched as we are coming to be.

I read last week – on facebook, so I’m sure it’s 100% true – but it resounded with me and made me reflect on our journey to date.  “The Horse Knows”.  You can teach a horse something and once he knows, he knows.  It’s us that don’t.  We purchase a horse that “does it all” and then when he gradually (or not so gradually) stops doing it all, we try to fix him.   We should be looking at what we know too…

I think the first issue we had was floating.  He loaded straight up to come home with me.  And although I had been told he wasn’t “great” at floating, I didn’t expect it to be the drama it became.  We got home, and there we stayed because for the life of me, the neighbour and the bloke I called to “train” him, he refused to get back on the float.  At least I could ride up the road!

A good friend came to meet him and offered to try and get him on the float.  Straight on. And off.  And on again.  Within two minutes.  Apparently its all in the way you ask him.  And he likes to be asked.  No amount of leading and tugging got us anywhere.  He had been trained to be “driven”.  I had no idea.  The Horse Knows.  I would like to say I learnt to drive him and we never had a problem again.  It took me some time – and the bit where I forgot and we went backwards.  I think I have it down pat now.  He likes to be asked and shown where I want him – and now goes straight on.

My horse is lazy, has a fair bit of cunning, but no real nasty.  He’s pretty (which probably lets him get away with more than he should!)  After owning my gorgeous boy for about six months, I joined TRV as a member and would have told you, three and a half years ago, that I was a fairly confident trail rider.  I could walk, trot and canter and was game enough to go most places.  Three and a half years ago I had NO IDEA what I could become capable of.  Or that my riding had so much room for improvement. 

I attended most monthly club rides, survived them all and it took maybe 18 months for the cracks to start to show.  The little things I let slide.  The behaviours I should have nipped in the bud, but hey, we were getting by.  Oh, don’t get me wrong – we were learning more and more.  The “degree of difficulty” of our rides stepped up.  The things that I didn’t know I didn’t know were mounting and my catch-phrase of “I’m not a horsey person” was no longer allowed to be used as I was now being considered “a horsey person”!  (I am a legend in my own lunchbox).  But while we were coming along, we were also going backwards.  

To all the lovely people on the trail ride that witnessed the great start to the Village Green, we sure sucked you in!  My boy and I were complemented on what a quiet, nice type he was.  It quickly went to his head.  The idea to stop for a drink at the dam on the start of our return journey… well we can put on a show.  Apparently just stopping for a drink on a warm day wasn’t enough.  He went in, put his head down and little old unawares me didn’t pick up on the quick-fire cues that he was about to promptly drop and try and roll in the muddy shallows.  I got him back on his feet quick smart but boy oh boy!  Muddy boots, jeans, girth.  I’d then like to say that the rears and carry-on we had shortly after were the mud drying around his nether region.  HE’S not nasty.  HE wouldn’t do that unless something was wrong.  But carry on all the trip home he did.  His behaviour scared me – and certainly changed the opinions of the riders that thought he was such a treasure on the way out!  His first rear and managed to knock my sunglasses into my nose.  His carry on on the way home had me leave the group with another rider and be first back to the clubhouse. Waiting families of our guests were a little unnerved by my appearance, bloody nose and muddy face where I’d wiped at it with muddy fingers.  Most attractive and a sure sign of a ride gone awry!  The first of, well, too many.

I did mention that we were learning more, even though some of his behaviours were going backwards.  It was about this time that during a ride through Mt Disappointment I cantered DOWNHILL for the first time.  Big for me.  I had always got to the top of the hill and slowed.  Everyone did.  Or perhaps all the people I’d previously ridden with did.  Here we were, having a lovely canter, got to the top of the rise and Brian, in the lead this day, just continued on.  So I did too.  And on.  The hills rolled up and down and we rode them.  Just like that.  It’s actually just as easy as uphill – why does everyone stop at the top?  This old girl was actually pretty chuffed.

Maybe because he is inherently lazy, the more we did the more he resisted.  Maybe the more he started to play up, the less often I rode as the fear was mounting in me.  Our rides were regularly having episodes of bad behaviour – he heightened the minute another horse did, separation anxiety, we were having “arguments” often, with pig rooting and little bucks showing his annoyance.  I don’t know how I managed to stay on top some days (well, luck mostly, but my riding was improving too…lol)

I think I snapped about twelve months ago.  He started first up as we left the clubhouse and within 10 minutes I realised this whole horse riding gig was NOT FUN anymore.  Apologising to the other riders I explained I couldn’t do it and was ready to turn for home.  Our President was not hearing of it.  He told me we were swapping horses for the ride and he’d suss out my pony to see if he could get a feel of what was going on.  Hurriedly I adjusted stirrups and took him up on his offer to ride an “educated horse”.  My ride was lovely.  Brians ride was… well THE HORSE KNOWS.  He knows what he knows and those that also know, know how to ride them (follow that good English?)  Overall, my pony rode well (there’s a video to prove it!) for Brian, although certainly tried it on.  He was last back to the clubhouse as he put Idaho through some testing situations (even just the separation from the other horses as he held him back).  Now here’s the part where I am SO VERY LUCKY to have found this club.  To have found Brian.  

At the end of the ride, I was offered an opportunity that I grabbed with both hands and can never thank Brian for enough.  Brian took my pony for “two weeks until the Working Bee”.  He offered to ride him at home and figure out his issues so that I could then learn how to “handle” these situations.  Perhaps I didn’t have to give up after all.  There was a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Now, completely unintentionally I couldn’t make the weekend a fortnight later.  And then my float had been booked in for work and Idaho had to stay even longer at Brians, as I couldn’t collect him.  I did however make it on the weekends to ride with Brian and learn.   I was a sponge.  Throw it at me at let’s get this sorted!  We did a few rides together while I got my ducks in a row to take him home.  I learnt, and built a better foundation.  I got the tools.  At last there were things that I could “KNOW”!  And I know that my pony is not one for leaving for weeks and then expecting to just ride.  He needs to be ridden.  I need to step up.  This is a two way street, and he deserves a Rider, not a passenger.  I also Know that Brian secretly enjoyed riding him!

AND…. within five minutes of bringing him home and prepping to ride on my own with my new set of tools and confidence, I was back on the phone to Brian for more tools.  This cunning little darling had decided not to be bridled.  MORE learning.  Using the tools.  Videos sent back and forth to explain my issues.  But it worked.  Crisis averted – again!

I’m getting there.  We are getting there.  He’s not perfect, but he’s pretty damn close as far as I’m concerned.  I know we are always learning.   Knowing how to react first time, before the spiralling and heightened behaviours and nerves.  Anticipation.  Not the anticipation that somethings going to go wrong – that’s too much like fear – but being that step ahead and prepared to shut things down at the flick of the ears or the swish of the tail.  I’m enjoying him – and that says it all.  And I’m ever so thankful that my husband pushed me to join a club that is a 2 ½ hour drive away.  Because the club is worth it.  The people and the knowledge they have and share is immeasurable.  The Horse Knows.  And between us all, we Know they’re worth it.