Cob Jockey

Only a month behind!

1. How old is the youngest/greenest horse you've ever ridden?
I was the first person on Castleberrys Protege's (Shae's) back, and it was my first time riding a Welsh Cob. He was not quite three, but Dr. Marks assured me I weighed so little she was fine with it.  That deserves a post of its own sometime.

April of 2010

2. How old is the oldest horse that you have ridden?
Dillon, who saved my confidence, was 24 and semi-retired when I rode him when I first came to my trainer and barn nearly six years ago  He's now 29 and totally retired.


3. Were you scared of horses when you first started riding?
No, that came later!

4. Would you say you are more of a nervous or confident rider?
On ponies, I feel like I could conquer the world and giggle through bucking and bolting.  On horses, I am the biggest chicken that ever lived.  Not that I won't ride horses, but misbehaving horses feel completely different to me than misbehaving ponies.

Castleberrys Aviator smiling for the camera

5. Biggest pet peeve about non-horse people around horses?
One time during a break in the CrossFit Regionals Nicole and I wandered the Ohio State Fairgrounds and found people moving into a national Morgan show, complete with mostly Hispanic men setting up elaborate stall setups and owners in fancy cars.  Non horse people see that and think all horse owners are wealthy enough to put fountains and streetlights outside their show stalls for no reason at all.  It's so different from that for the average person.

From Morgan shows to media hours

6. A time that you've been scared for your life (horse-related)
That time we got caught in a freak snowstorm with horses, and the truck and trailer did a 180 across three lanes of I-275 in Cincy and stopped facing the wrong way on the interstate, one inch away from sliding (probably would have rolled sideways, actually) down a 30 ft embankment with no guard rail, and mature trees at the bottom.  Except I was WAY more scared for Connor's life than I was for mine.  There's no feeling like being certain you're going to watch your horse die at any moment as a result of a situation you've put him in.  Thankfully rig, people and horses were all totally fine, not even a scratch on any of us.  I actually cried when, an hour after that happened, I was finally able to throw open the trailer door and Connor greeted me with pricked ears and his usual nicker.

At our temporary housing that night, thanks to a kind network of Indiana eventers.

7. Have you ever fallen off at a show?  What happened?
Not that I can think of.

Taylor at an IHSA home show, 2009.  The pony that got me into ponies.  RIP little mare.

8. What's a breed of horse you've never ridden but would love to ride someday?
I'd love to ride a true draft, if only for the pictures of my legs sticking out the side like this:

From my 2011 post about riding Adagio in a lesson.

9. Describe the worst behaved horse you've ridden. 
Gosh, it's gotta be Bella the Wonder Pony.  Thanks, Austen.

The scale is hard to see here, but remember: I am not quite 5'1 and 105lbs. If I make something look small, IT'S REALLY SMALL.

This 12ish hand menace responded to everything I asked by first bucking, then obeying. And I had so much fun I came back a month later and rode her again.  Those posts from 2011 are pretty funny: Bella the Wonder Pony, Rematch with Bella the Wonder Pony

10. The most frustrating ride you've ever had
My parents' donkey Festus takes this one.  Growing up, I wasn't allowed to ride the horse, but could hop on Festus whenever I wanted as long as I had a helmet on.  I spent so much time bareback with a halter kicking valiantly as he ignored my little legs and grazed. Except that one time we were in the back pasture and he heard my mom come out to feed and cantered a couple hundred yards to the barn.  If you've never cantered a donkey bareback, it is a WEIRD feeling!

L. Williams and Aimee reminded me recently that while I've kept this blog since I was a senior in college, since before I knew what a Welsh Cob was, many of you weren't with me when I was terrified of jumping just a few years ago.

I've been with my trainer three years, and owned Connor for two.  When I was 21, I was overmounted in a year of jump classes at the college.  I was a nervous rider who got a late start in life with serious riding, didn't even canter until I was in high school, and so those two classes my senior year were the first time I had ever jumped.

First up was the Green Horse.  He was a good guy, and I eventually got so comfortable on him on the flat that I chose him for my senior Holiday Ride.  But he got strong, I had to stop him by running into the fence almost every time, and he still didn't know what to do with his own body over fences and I had jumped just a handful of times in my life.  No matter how much I liked him on the flat, jumping was so nerve wracking I replaced my old helmet with the most expensive one I could afford specifically because of him.

The Green Horse.  This, uh, attractive helmet was replaced a week after this photo was taken.

The Bolter was the following semester.  I would be merrily cantering along in a warmup and suddenly find myself on the other side of the arena for no discernible reason.  You also could never be sure how many feet would hit the ground on the other side of the fence you were jumping, or where you would end up, or whether you'd still be on his back.  I became paralyzed with fear any time this horse so much as put a single foot where I didn't expect him to.

I got switched to a safer horse after breaking down sobbing in the middle of a class on The Bolter because the fear was debilitating.  The safer horse was a saint, but the damage was done.  Jumping was not fun, and I did not want to do it anymore.  This culminated in my first and last IHSA jump round, in which I was the girl that made everyone gasp.  You know the type of ride I'm talking about.  I ran off to have a good cry behind a hay barn at Black Dog after that horrible ride.

The safer horse.  He started the process of getting me over my fear.

My trainer's first observation when she met me eight months after that was that it looked like I "clicked into place" in a jump saddle, and I was stiff as a board.  Over the next three months, she started my riding training over as if I was a beginner, putting me in a Dressage saddle so that my old habits were less available to me, giving me lunge lessons and working with me at the walk and trot exclusively until she thought I was ready to canter six weeks in.

When me and my lesson horse, a semi-retired Thoroughbred Novice-level kid's packer named Dillon (who is my age!), started jumping a few months in, he rushed the fences - and he was NOT a rusher!  I was so scared, I was clamping on for dear life, forgetting to breathe and just hoping to survive.  We worked on the clamping, and on the fear, and as I understood just how saintly and point-and-shoot Dillon was, the fear went away, and the rushing stopped.  My trainer's Dressage-over-fences philosophy also helped me feel like I was in control, and not just a peanut perched on his back, praying everything went well.

My old gentleman Dillon, age 24 here, now 26 and totally retired.  His one quirk is that my trainer is the only one who can bridle him, so we were here waiting on her to come out and finish tacking him up.

Without my trainer and Dillon, there would be no "eventing the Welsh Cob," it would be "flatting the Welsh Cob." There would be no taking my green pony XC schooling, and there would be no aiming for beginner novice this year.  Dillon is totally retired now, but I still take the time to give him a good curry every now and again, because I owe that old man so much.  Not every horse is right for every rider, but sometimes the right one comes along and does exactly what you need him to do at that moment in your life.

I almost prefaced this post by saying that I didn't have much of a 2011 recap to write because I only got Contender in November.  But that only lasted a few seconds before I remembered the dramatic changes that occurred in my equine life this year. The condensed version:

Probably the most important thing I took away from my Thursday lesson is that it's all in the details.  It started with her teaching me how to lunge Dillan, and I was not entirely happy about that at first.  I was embarrassed at being shown how to do something so elementary with two other girls my age - advanced riders - in the ring.  But I quickly realized she did have quite a lot to teach me.