So...Now what??

I ended staying only 3 months at Coach T's.  And while you probably read that story and wonder if I got anything good out of the experience I have to tell you I really did! But on returning home I was exhausted and drained, and spent the rest of the summer recovering.  I really questioned whether I really even wanted to ride again. The reality of the dressage world hit me, and hit me hard.  These changed my hopes and dreams, and awoke me to another reality.

1) Money counts.  Big time!  Oh I know, you want to tell me its just an excuse, just something us poor girls cry out from the sidelines, but isn't really true! You just need some pluck, some hard work, a can-do spirit!  Anyone can make it!  HA! Yeah right!  First of all, lets all acknowledge that, no matter what type of riding you do, it's expensive.  Even owning a horse in your backyard to trail ride on is a costly endeavour.   Once you start showing, the tack, the clothes, the trailers, the memberships....yeesh.  A car is a cheaper investment.  There's board and vet and farrier, all the more involved if you have a show horse.  And let's face it, if you wanna ride against the big boys, you can't do it on Charger the trail horse.  At Coach T's they wouldn't even look at a horse unless it came from Germany, had an all-star pedigree, and cost as much as my house.  Seriously.  Nothing North American bred.  That attitude might be changing, but it doesn't translate into cheaper prices.  And if you want to REALLY compete, you can't have just one mount!  Along side the Prix St Georg trained star, you need to have an up and coming star.  And maybe a third slightly lower level trained pony that you can pull out when ol'Superstar tweaks a tendon and is off for a year.  If you don't come from deep pockets, you can try for sponsorship, although these can be fickle.  I saw more then one heart broken young rider get a letter from their sponsor telling them the well was dry.  Average income earner?  Good luck! Hope you have a secret horse supplier no one else knows about!  Most of us have jobs we have to work, and don't get to train daily with a top trainer.  But oh no, money means nothing....

** Oh I can hear you all now!  "She's so negative! So and so made it to the Olympics and she didn't have money or sponsors! "  Sorry,  so that one person did it!  Every once in a while they let one of us sad poor girls into the inner circle to keep us all hoping, showing and buying sparkly breeches.

2) Its a nasty place to be.  I stood on the sidelines, I heard all the inner gossip, the stories floating around from one barn to another.  It wasn't pretty! It was ugly and competitive and just plan nasty. Those big fancy barns with the velvet carpets and diamond studded horses were not peaceful, horse filled retreats. No! The people (mostly women) riding and training there were aggressive, harsh, and they were not going to be pushed around.  One minute they loved a certain barn and trainer (oh, the gushing! oh, the infinite declarations of love!), the next they had packed up and moved on leaving behind a mess of stories and frustrated barn staff.  Yup, the fickleness of it all still surprises me.  But it was considered normal, and was in itself almost a sport.  I grew tired of it all very quickly.

3) It's not really about the training.  Ok, it kinda is.  Some of those trainers I watched at the show were good.  Even Coach T was amazingly knowledgeable, and gave me so much great advice.  And he even really liked my riding!  But when you're in the ring, so much can be hidden.  So many flaws, so many glaring issues can disappear with a certain type of riding. Although you warmed them up over bent and tense, the show ring was a different story. A good trainer would easily get beat by a flashy show trotting horse that looked like it constantly passaged everywhere.  It was all about expression and flair; good basics and flowing horses didn't matter.  An expressive front end hid the flaws of training.  It was all very interesting to sit back and take in, but in the end who paid the cost?

4) People ride for many different reasons.  They show, they spend the money, for many different reasons.  Some love to be competitive, some love to show off fancy horses in sparkly breeches, some honestly want to show off their horse and training.  But different reasons present different pictures and some are all sparkle, no depth.  It was easy to see who's motives were more honest then others. But in the end the picture I came back with was dressage was big business, and I wasn't sure how my world and it would ever fit together.

By the end of summer I realized it wouldn't fit together.  That world was out of my league, and I honestly didn't want to be there anyways. That summer was the first time in my life I dreaded going to the barn.  I didn't look forward to my lessons.  I just plain didn't want to be there! So I spent the remainder of the summer at home staring out my window at my horses.  I rode my tb on my lawn, I watched Classical Dressage videos, I read books by Anja Beran and Phillipe Karl, and I tried desperately to find my way back.  And it was during those times that I realized that horses were a journey.  The part I didn't like about my whole experience was that they made the destination the sole focus.  It was an idol that they sacrificed everything for.  For me, it was about the riding, the training, but also about so much more.  I wanted to know each horse, I wanted them to teach me. I wanted it to change my life, to shape my life.  I wanted horse to be more then just ribbons and money and sponsorships.  Not that all those things can't help or can't be a part of it.  But I didn't want it to become the reason behind everything. I wanted to help train horses and people in a way that showed it could be done gently with a happy horse and rider.

I emerged from that summer feeling more focused, like I had a mission.  I couldn't change the dressage world, that world didn't interact with mine in a decisive way.  But I could change the way I saw it, and the way I rode and handled my horses.  I could teach and ride the classical way, no matter who frowned on it, and help along anyone else who had the same ideals.  I would try and learn from my horses and let them be my teachers.

In my next blog post (or 2) I'll introduce you to the horses who changed and shaped my life. My teachers.

Little Greyson says Hi!

Livin' the Dream? Part 2

The lesson began long before I put my foot in the irons. As I tacked up my horse, a 6 year old Trakehner x who was 17 hands and pretty grumpy, I was watched closely by the assistant trainer, K. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until I bridled the big snarky mare.  She resisted the bit strongly, and when I finally convinced her to open her mouth I felt a strange groove on her gums. With a quick glance at K I decided to ignore it- she was openly glaring at me and checking her watch- and I buckled up the nose band and flash.  I stepped back for final inspection and K moved in to look at the bridle.  She immediately pointed to the noseband and said "Tighter!" I was a little surprised but I stepped forward, and did the noseband up another hole.  I wasn't sure if I had misjudged it - I was always taught the 2 finger rule, about having room for 2 fingers between the nose and the leather.  Maybe I had done 3??  But K shook her head at me. "Tighter!"  I did it up another notch realizing the whole '2 finger rule' was now null and void.  K sighed heavily, pushed me out of the way, and grabbed the strap.  Placing one hand on the mare's muzzle to brace, and holding the strap in the other, she pulled until the mare's cheeks bulged out and then quickly did up the buckle.  Turning to me she said "It must be TIGHT!! If not they can resist!  They might even buck!" and she walked off leaving me standing with the mare.

Once in the arena I was given side reins and showed the "proper" way to fit them.  The horses nose was pulled back behind the vertical, evenly on both sides.  I was amazed at the tension on the side reins! The mares cheeks were already bulging beneath the straps and now her head was crammed against her chest.  I was then ordered to lunge her, which by their definition was to make her go on a relatively small circle, and drive her until all the fight was out of her. I was once again in a state of shock.

Over the course of the next few weeks I learned that this was the norm. Before every ride each horse (regardless of age and training) was lunged in short side reins for at least 15 minutes to drive any resistance out of them.  Once they were sufficiently tired we slapped a pair of draw reins on to ride with - to this day I hate those stupid draw reins with a passion!! Even after all this preparation work to wear out the horses the amount of resistance was amazing! Despite tight nosebands you could hear the horses grinding their teeth against the contact - never a good sign.  And so many times they would try and shake their heads to free themselves from the tension or the draw reins! The riders' driving seat and legs combined with the noseband/draw reins created such tension many horses took to rearing or stopping all together.  This was considered a normal training issue, and the reason we were told to always wear spurs and carry whips. Some horses just went slower and slower until they were spanked forward into relentless hand, and ridden until they were slick with sweat.  These fancy horses still did all the tricks- tempis, pirouettes, half pass and piaffe.  They were athletic! They could pull it off!  But the amount of work it took to get it, and the lack of softness or even joy in the movements was glaring.

The grooves in my mares mouth were also the norm.  These were formed from years of pressure of the bit on the horses' delicate gums.  Once a week a "training bit"- aka a twisted wire snaffle, another torture device - was used to lighten the obviously heavy horses.  This often lead to the creation of fresh grooves, or even bloody mouths.  When this occurred we were told to switch back to the other bit for a day and coat the horses cheeks and tongues with Vaseline. Several of these expensive animals had tongue injuries, or would hang their tongues out after riding.  With the nosebands so tight their cheeks bulged as their tongue was forced back into their mouths to avoid the painful pulling bit. I have never seen so many horses refusing to go forward, rearing up in protest in my life. And yet this is not the only place it happens. To this day, a driving seat and a harsh rein make me shudder!! If your horse is refusing to go forward off the lightest aid, please stop and consider what you are doing!!

Trail rides were allowed once a week during nice weather but these were just opportunities to school the horses out in the open. So many came back slick with sweat, panting and covered with whip and spur marks.  Within a few days I began to dread the barn. Although Coach T had tons of experience and was honestly a lovely rider, I felt like anything I learned was being drowned out in all the negativity.  His philosophy was explained to me one evening after a lesson: Dressage was now big business.  These horses were all owned by sponsors who paid a lot of money for them and expected great things.  They were bred for this.  They must be pushed. There was a new way to ride and train that got a horse to Grand Prix much quicker then in other times.  Yes, there were casualties, many actually.  But the ones that made it were the strong ones worth the money and time. My goal, he informed me, was to find someone to sponsor me, to buy me these superstar horses, and to show as much as possible.  It was the goal of all us average income (poor) riders, and it was reiterated by K and the other girls at the barn many times.

But who were the casualties?  These ones that weren't strong enough to make it?  I was shown several pictures of previous show horses who were now (at young ages of 12-14) either lame or "crazy".  One who had been the up and coming super star who was now retired.  He began freaking out at shows, and it escalated until he couldn't even be taken into an arena without furious shaking and sweating.  He was now a trail horse.  One lovely 4 year old mare broke down a mere 2 months after coming out of quarantine.  Her lameness has stuck with her.  Another 5 year old was on stall rest for another issue, that never really went away.  He was sold off as a low level hunter.  A number became "crazy" and were sold off to who knows where.  So many horses made unsound, so many made angry at humans and our training.

Was this an isolated incident? Was I just at a dressage barn from hell? Unfortunately it was far more normal then I ever dreamed.  I was at a week long show with the barn, as a groom and assistant, learning the ropes.  Being back stage, and considered a mere nobody, has it perks.  I stood with the other workers from other barns and countries and listened as they discussed the horses that were ridden in front of us.  I saw several Olympic horse/rider combinations, several riders I had previously only seen in magazines.  And the stories I heard only helped me realize I didn't belong in that world.  That I simply didn't have it in me.  Not all these trainers were horrible.  Not at all! But the part that hit me was how it didn't matter in the show ring. The tortured horses at the barn I was at won as often as everyone else's.  They were given top scores, and the judges praised the wonderful "classical training".  Oh, if only one of those judges could have felt the grooves in the superstar mouth! If only they saw the injections, the medications that kept them going.  If only these wonderful, forgiving animals could speak!  I felt such enormous guilt.

So I packed up and headed home.