Rain stopped the planned group hack this morning so Mabel had to put up with schooling.

Mabel sliced the inside of her leg a few weeks back, probably in an incident involving Monster, so has just had three weeks off work. She’s been fit to go out hacking and it has been nice on a Saturday or Sunday morning to head out for a few miles. We’ve been getting through the sloe gin on these hacks, but at least we’ve discovered some more.

Actual dressage competition is not to the fore during winter. However now is the time for getting in some proper training and groundwork. Up north that meant lessons with the excellent Sue Pimbley. Mabels allround education would also benefit from a few jumping lessons from Peter Pimbley. Down south, when you know no-one, finding a new trainer can be pot-luck. Fortunately Kirsty has landed on her feet and her and Mabel are following Inger Bryant around the area to her riding clinics. While it may not be so convenient as lessons at a regular time and place it at least is teaching Mabel that she needs to travel to different places and just work.

It also means that we are learning our way to all the local venues without the stress of needing to get there suffering competition nerves. On the downside not many of them are running their catering for clinics. THis just means I’ll have to finish rating the tea and bacon facilities next year. So far Aston-Le-Walls sausage sandwich is the best out there, but Patchetts plated breakfast may just clinch it.

Bad girl

The time has come for Monster to repay her dues. I remember when she was the newbie to the mean streets, being shepherded round by the Naughty Pony. She soon went on to solo outings, and apart from a few tantrums on the Ribble restraining wall brought on by the sight of bad golfing slacks – and frankly who can blame anyone for that – she has turned into a bombproof little mare. She has literally ridden and jumped alongside the M6 on Boxing Day meets.

The Naughty Pony is no more. So it is now up to Monster to shepherd the rookie, Mabe. Or that’s the idea. Stroppy mare has other ideas.

What’s the secret of comedy? Timing*.

Lull rider into a false sense of security by mooching along, head in the air, wandering vaguely in whatever direction your head is pointing, looking in awe and wonder at the countryside. Cars, walkers in dodgy short/boot combinations, cattle byres, complete with sprightly bullocks appearing out of nowhere, all taken in her stride.

But lo! What is this beastly piece of wriggly tin roof fly tipped down a narrow and muddy bridleway. This is the perfect point to start napping. Back into Mabe who thinks that if Monster is scared then it must be bad. This is no time for pissing about, especially when the stick you didn’t bring because you never need it is back in the trailer.

Cue muddy boots and jeans for the sake of 100 yards of snorting and stroppy behaviour. Once back on dry land she’s as good as gold again, and no-doubt pleased with herself for causing maximum inconvenience.

Witch.

* there are those who suggest “schadenfreude”. They may have a point.

I recently had a day of mountain bike skills training with Ed Oxley of Great Rock.

[Image copyright and courtesy Ed Oxley]

A lot of what I had to learn was about fore/aft balance and how, for too long I’ve been leaning too far off the back of the bike. I had to learn to have my weight forward, and shift it back at the right point.

Sound familiar?

It should do.

The impact on my horse-riding has been immediately noticeable.

Four Legs

[Image copyright and courtesy Hooves-R-Us]

No longer worried about my position I’m now able to better judge if Monster will be overfaced, and I’m not unbalancing her. This season she is really coming on.