... on riding across country and having a lovely place to sit to reflect upon it afterwards ...

Michelle and I with our "D Rally" team 1978

When I was a child of about 14 years old, I was already a C1 in the local Pony Club in Bennington VT. By that time me and most of the other girls my age had been riding for about eight years and had spent oodles of time jumping all kinds of horses in all types of situations without stirrups, without reins, with eyes closed and whatever other combination of impossible factors that our instructors (Henry and Janet Schurink of Doornhof Farm in Shaftsbury VT) could dream up.


When we kids were about twelve most of us had started acquiring our own personal horses. Some of us shared horses 1/2, 1/2 with other people, some of us were fortunate to have our own horse full-time and I think even in our humble club we had a couple of members with multiple mounts for the various disciplines.

We evented, we went to hunt shows, Pony Club shows (now generally morphed into "English Open Horse Shows" like the one I organize at Fox Valley Saddle Association here near Elgin IL), Rallies, hunter paces and more.

not the Doornhof Farm lorry, but a good approximation

Most of our summers consisted of packing up clean gear and show clothes, loading the horses into the four-horse head-to-head lorry using an incredibly steep ramp and a long lunging whip, then following the horses into the show van to ride to another town close by for the weekend of showing (yes, we rode in the lorry with the horses!! - we had the crawl space above the cab and even had a huge open window in the aisle to lean out of and wave at the cars going by.)

Michelle & Thorita, and me and Sneakers.

When we weren't showing on the weekdays some of us (Michelle Mazzola and me, mostly) passed our days trail riding for hours and hours in the mountains of Shaftsbury, eating our lunches in wooded clearings near rock walls out of bags packed behind our saddles, or carousing loudly through the woods behind and surrounding our stabling, jumping everything we could find.

Hexenmeister - black Trakhner stallion stood at stud at Doornhof for many years

Michelle and Goblin 1977

Back then Doornhof Farm was well-known for their recognized three day horse trials (they were also recognized as a premium national breeder of Trakehner horses) which drew competitors from all around the East. To my recollection (which admittedly, could be off after almost 40 years) we had what would now constitute "Beginner Novice", "Novice", "Training" and "Preliminary" fences in our cross country course fields and possibly even an "Intermediate" (now called a "one star" or just CCI*.) Back then, our horse trials also included Roads & Tracks at all levels (I don't remember a steeplechase, though.)

I can remember Michelle and I having so much fun without any planning whatsoever just randomly selecting a sequence from jumps during our trail rides (or hacks through the woods, however you'd want to characterize them) and following each other happily over them - sometimes she would lead and sometimes I would. At the time, we both had the perfect Pony Club mounts: Safe, gentle, fun-loving, and eager to participate in whatever activity caught our fancy at the time. Ditches, rails, coops, ramps, tiger traps, banks were all great targets for our enthusiasm.

All of this practice and our casual attitude toward jumping (which I would now call "quiet and absolute confidence" - in not only our horse's abilty to jump whatever we faced them but also our total trust in their willingness to do so) was reflected as we arrived to shows that we sometimes didn't even remember entering, had no idea what we'd be doing until actually going out and taking a look on foot, then later riding and winning everything in sight weekend after weekend after weekend - no matter what type of show happened to appear at the end of the long trailer ride when the ramp went down and the horses were unloaded.

Fast forward almost forty years later as I sit here on my pool-side typing this post. I am surrounded by my hard work of the spring, the lovely planted containers with their cheerful flowers and the pool finally crystal clear and ready for swimming. I drink my coffee and reflect on my first near-revisit of my 14 year old days this past weekend.

It's not just the getting out and jumping in the open, which I have been aiming and training for the last two years and 12 years after retiring Dax, my Appaloosa, as a "show horse" when Kane was born in 2000 and anointing him the official "Pony Club horse" for my two daughters.

No, not just the jumping over the familiar coops, ramps, ditches, banks, logs. Not just the hills and green grass of Southern Illinois that look so much like the mountains and  valleys of Shaftsbury Vermont in the summer, albeit on a smaller scale. No, not the summer breeze and sunshine and being out in the woods on a Saturday morning with a small group of eager young girls cheering each other on, smiling and patting each other on the back for a ride well done.

No, it wasn't the external physical things that reminded me of being fourteen years old again: It was that feeling of being an eager Pony Clubber with the perfect mount who always not only did what I asked, but who was pleased as punch to do it - couldn't ~wait~ to get to out there and do it. Just because it was fun. And it was freeing, to gallop, to feel the wind rushing by your ears, to see the jump in your sights between the ears of your horse who was totally radar focused on getting there, too. To feel the your legs pressing against his sides, your hands up and forward and hearing that little voice in your head screaming "wow!! is this not GREAT!!!????"

Did I regain my casual attitude toward jumping out in the open across country this weekend? I don't think I am quite there yet, but certainly closer; closer than I have been back to that place of quiet and absolute confidence - in not only my horse's ability to jump whatever I face him but also my total trust in his willingness to do so. At this point I think we just need to add practice.

Great weekend. Beautiful morning. Time to garden.