Yesterday, I kind of gave you a limited overview of fox hunting and a peek at how our day went, but here's the rest of the story.

I can't say whether Tejon Hounds is just a particularly mellow group, or if fox hunters in general are that relaxed and kind. I hope the people we rode with are typical of the sport's participants. Before we started, everyone gathered around to listen to introductions and to find their field master. Louisiana and I took our place behind Annabelle, our leader for the day. We were joined by Annabelle's son, Noah, and another couple. The husband was riding a green bean with only 30 days under saddle.

The hounds were released and the first and second fields were out of sight within minutes. I tucked Sydney right behind Annabelle's mare and kept his nose planted there for the better part of an hour (with her permission, of course). He was quite high, but with a lot of rocking of the reins, I was able to keep him between a jig and a walk. To my knowledge, he's never done anything like this before! If you'll remember, I've only felt comfortable riding him in the open just this past month or so. Do you remember the first time I tried to ride around our neighborhood? It took an hour of circling to go less than half a mile. 

We came to several gates that Annabelle opened and closed while we passed through calmly. After we had walked for the better part of the hour, the group decided that everyone was safe enough to handle trotting. We were in wide open, flat fields that were covered with squirrel holes and random rocks. We trot where we felt safe and came back to the walk when the footing was questionable. Sydney never once bobbled.

As we continued to search for the main field, we chatted and enjoyed the completely beautiful day. The sky was brilliantly blue without a cloud in the sky. Little by little we increased the speed of the trot until we were moving along at a pretty good clip. While Sydney wasn't soft, he was keeping it together. With strong pulley halts, I was able to keep behind Annabelle's horse or tucked behind Louisiana and Speedy.

At some point near the end of the first hour, Sydney took that one deep breath I was looking for, and dropped his head. We took the lead. His walk was enormous, covering a huge amount of distance at each stride. Although the field master generally takes the lead, in this case, with both fresh and green horses, the group was fine with arranging the horses in the least stressful way. 

As we approached our first hill, we came to a muddy stretch where water had seeped from underground pipes which feed random water troughs for the grazing cattle. It was only about two feet wide, but the group paused, not sure how deep it was or how boggy it might be underfoot. Sydney paused a fraction of a second before he boldly marched through and landed safely on the other side. The rest of the horses followed. I was quite proud of him!

The hill in front of us was quite steep and maybe 150 yards to the top. The group decide to spread out along the bottom and canter or gallop to the top. Given its steepness, I knew that as long as I just hung on, I would be able to stop Sydney as we crested the top. We all started at a slow trot and let the horses build into a gallop. With the first canter stride, I was laughing in delight. Sydney powered up the hill with obvious enjoyment. And with no difficulty, I was I able to pull up into a walk at the top where we stopped for a breather and a couple of photos.

Sydney was now having fun. We dropped down the back of the hill, which was steep and rocky, but Sydney just picked his way down without a single mis-step. We continued climbing hills, galloping each time, in search of the hounds. By this time, we were trotting quite briskly and even galloping some of the flatter sections of trail. 

We finally came to a fence with no gate, so we opted to start making our way back. We wound around on the flat top of a small gorge only later realizing it was headed away from our destination. Without a thought, the group dropped down into the gorge and popped up on the other side. I was a bit more cautious and found a more gradual descent, but Sydney handled the steepness with ease. In front of us was one more steep hill, but it wasn't very long. This is probably where I made my only real mistake of the day.

Having enjoyed the gallops so much, I really let him go up this one. Noah's pony came rocketing alongside us, and the "race" was on. Both Noah and I pulled our horses up at the top safely, but Sydney's brain had had its fill. He was higher than ever. What I hadn't realized was that the climb was headed directly toward "home." 

Continued tomorrow … 

I may have found Sydney's true calling in life. It is possible that he wants to be a fox hunter, and I might be on board with the career switch. I had that much fun. I don't even know where to begin. Do I share how I laughed out loud with total glee as we galloped balls out up hills and along fence lines? How about I share how Sydney spent most of the morning rocking the lead? Or maybe I should first share how he motored over every type of terrain possible with total confidence?

Okay, Sweaney, slooow down and take a deep breath! Some of you are probably like me and have no idea what fox hunting even is. You can Google it of course, or check out Wikipedia, but the short version is that hounds are released to track game and riders dressed in show clothes gallop after.

Tejon Hounds is a brand new hunt club that is recruiting members. In order to showcase their hunting grounds, they invited members from other clubs and even opened up the hunt to complete newbies like myself (and Louisiana). Normally, a $125 "capping" fee is paid by non-club members, but since this was an "open house" type of event, the fee was waived. An annual membership, which comes with lots of other amenities, is $1,500.

The hunts happen every Wednesday and Saturday through the season which generally runs from September to March, depending on the weather. Apparently, heat and humidity affect the ability of the hounds to catch the scent. Here's a snippet from the Tejon Hounds Facebook page on October 23.

The game of choice at the Tejon Ranch is coyote. I think they are quite numerous on the ranch and serve as a substitute for foxes which are not native to California. The hounds catch the scent of the coyote and track it. Sometimes the coyote simply gives the hounds the slip, and other times the hounds will run it to ground (to a den). Since no one was carrying an obvious weapon, I am nearly certain the coyote is not killed.

During this particular hunt, the riders milled around until the designated start time. Before we left, there was a blessing on the hounds that was accompanied by a shot of port or sherry or some kind of heavy wine. I happily took mine as a substitute for valium. 

Riders (we were about 15) were divided into "fields" depending on their comfort level. The first field, or main field, stays right with the hounds, galloping as necessary. The second field hangs back and follows the first field a bit more slowly. Louisiana and I were in the third field which watched the main field gallop off. We spent the next three hours galloping to hill tops trying to catch sight of the hunt. Riders in the third or fourth fields are known as Hill Toppers.

The hunts can last anywhere from two to five hours depending on the hounds and the wishes of the group. The third field rode for three hours in search of the hunt. The main field returned about 45 minutes after we did. After watering horses and untacking, lunch was served for those who were able to stay a while. For most Tejon Hunts, I was told that a potluck is typical.

More tomorrow!

While our "performance" at Saturday's Ride-a-Test couldn't be called a success, there were some big improvements. And I apologize for not having a single photo. The least I could have done is taken a photo of the arena or Sydney tied at the trailer, but I forgot.

I decided to ride Sydney at home in the morning before even heading over to the "show grounds" to see if that would siphon off some extra energy. Either he knew I was up to something, or he was having an off day, probably the former. I warmed up for the briefest time possible and then cued for the right lead canter. He rolled into it smoothly without a hint of anxiety.

I followed that up with some work to the left, which went well, and then tried for another right lead canter. Nope. Our work turned into a hot mess. I know it was partially my fault; I just wanted him to trot the 20-meter circle at A, but each time we approached the open end of the circle, he wigged out. I did 10-meter circles at the spot over and over, but he just refused to soften.

He finally reared BIG, and I quit. I sent him walking around the arena and decided that I didn't care if I ever showed him; it's just not worth it. We walked a lap around the arena, and I put him away. I then pulled Speedy out and proceeded to have a great ride which lifted my spirits and reminded me that dressage can be fun.

I seriously toyed with the idea of simply not going to the "show." If Sydney can't show, why bother? But since they were expecting me, I decided to just show up, warm up a little, and then leave. I wouldn't even ride a test. And that's what I did.

For the first time at a "show," I simply did not care. Not caring is totally different from hoping for a good score even though you know you might not get it. Hope and indifference are two completely different animals. I hadn't even bothered to change into cleaner or nicer clothes. I was still wearing my sweaty, horse slobbered on t-shirt and some old endurance tights. No show clothes were worn by anyone, but still, a clean t-shirt might have looked better. Again, an example of me not caring.

I unloaded Sydney and tied him to the trailer.  He started to paw and fuss so I gave him a hay bag, but when he reared, I just shrugged my shoulders at him. Not caring, Dude. I walked around and visited with a few friends and then casually bridled Sydney.

The show secretary had done me the greatest favor possible: my ride time was the first one after lunch which meant that no one was in the arena. When she came over to chat, she said it was fine if I rode in the arena to warm up. This is a very low stress event designed for green horses and riders.

I found a mounting block. Before I got on Sydney, I reminded him of a conversation we had had two weeks ago: my job is to navigate, and his job is to be the big and brave partner. He stood quietly while I mounted. We entered at A and just walked. And walked. And walked some more.

And then he remembered about being anxious. He started to jig and think about doing other naughty things. I used that outside rein FIRMLY and simply said NO! As we walked toward C, he gave some serious sass and bolted, but I put him in a quick bend and had his nose on my knee while I continued working the outside rein.

Using Susanne von Dietze's technique from the last clinic, I put Sydney into a figure eight with 10-meter circles that touched near G. We walked those two circles until he was pretty relaxed and submissive. It might not sound like much, but he couldn't/wouldn't walk at the last clinic. And I've not been able to get much walking from him at any of the shows we've attempted.

At that moment, I considered just leaving. I had "won" on that day, but after a quick word with the show secretary, I decided that maybe a 20-meter circle at the trot would finish things off well. The second I made that decision, Sydney took off on a very impressive galloping line that was full of bronc style bucking.

I immediately lost both stirrups and started looking for a soft place to land. I had my hands buried into his neck as I sat up tall trying desperately to get his head to bend to the side or at least get back in line with his body. Just when I thought there was no way I could stay on a second longer, I got him to stop his mad, bucking gallop. He had bucked his way from C to A.

Knowing that we couldn't end on that note, I circled him back to C and started over. After walking for a moment, I insisted on a 10-meter trot circle that quickly became 15-meters. After only 2 times around, he was soft and round, although not completely relaxed. I did a change of direction and got the same thing going to the right. I had to bump, bump, bump him off the right rein, but he finally gave for a few soft strides. I asked for a halt and quit right there. 

I thanked the judge for the arena time. It was the perfect opportunity to school Sydney away from home without worrying about being judged. No one cared that I used my time to walk 10-meter figure eights. So while we didn't get any real dressage done, I made Sydney behave, and then held him accountable when he didn't. 

What went really well was that I actively rode my horse with a purpose. This proved to be a valuable lesson to me for the next day when we attended the fox hunt. More on that adventure tomorrow!

Believe it not, Louisiana and I are joining the Tejon Hounds this morning for a fox hunt (see flyer below)!

A friend here in town sent me the flyer and asked if I was interested. I immediately scoffed and reached for the delete key. But then I paused. Why not go fox hunting? It actually sounded like a lot of fun, but since I have never been fox hunting, I did a ton of Googling to figure out what NOT to wear, do, or say. It all seemed pretty reasonable so I sent my friend an email saying that we would love to go. 

While the hunt requires formal attire, most of my dressage wardrobe will work. My black coat isn't quite right, but for this more friendly hunt, it will do. I have tan breeches and a tie with a plain stick pin, but I don't have the "correct" color of gloves; mine are either white or black. I think I'll go with black. My show helmet has a velveteen finish so it should be suitable as well. The foxhunters wear plain boots with no laces so I'll need to wear my dressage boots instead of my more comfy field boots. The one item I am missing is the yellow vest!

Definitely more to this story, so stay tuned!

I think there must be at least a million adages about planning and horses. Despite my best efforts, fate has a way of poking at me while asking me to try, try again!

I zipped out to the barn last night in an effort to school Training Level Test One before needing to ride it today at the Ride-a-Test. Riding Sydney in the late afternoon requires adherence to one rule; he gets to eat dinner for a few minutes first. The purist out there would probably scoff and tell me to be in charge, but I have found that allowing him those few minutes of chow time eases a lot of his late afternoon anxiety.

Even with the waning daylight hours, giving up those few minutes of sunlight is worth it. On Friday, I put the time to good use by watering the arena and loading up some of this weekend's gear (more on where we're going tomorrow). By the time I was finished, Sydney had eaten for a solid twenty minutes and was ready to get to work.

My plan was to walk a lap, trot a lot in either direction, and then go through the test in a fairly long frame, and then repeat in a shorter, rounder frame. As soon as we started the walk, a large truck roared by and Sydney spooked pretty hard. He decided that he had permission to jig and dance, but I reminded him that no, we would walk in a nice frame. I was delighted that he settled back down and we continued on; this is big progress.

As we were doing the warm up laps, the truck that had roared by turned into the property immediately across the street and began backing and turning and positioning itself; the gardener had arrive just minutes before dark to mow, edge, and blow the neighbor's front yard. Seriously?!

I took a mental pause and thought about my options: there was no way I would get any good work from Sydney right then, but on the other hand, working at home through a stressful situation was just what we needed. I put my leg on and asked for roundness.

We did a trot through of the entire test. While he wasn't relaxed or supple, he also wasn't a freight train; success! I shortened my reins and repeated the test, but the second time I planned on walking and cantering. For the most part, the work to the left was oaky, meaning there were no explosions and we rode each movement. The walk work was pretty nice, and we actually cantered, but it was a bit crazy. I had to pulley halt him to get a transition to trot and there was only one or two strides of a stretch during the stretchy circle.

As I tried picked up the trot to the right, Sydney spooked hard and immediately stiffened. I was actually okay with his goofiness as I was able to regain his attention by insisting that he keep some bend to his body. When he resisted, we made the circles really small and gradually drifted out. I did have him pick up one right lead canter, which went okay, but when I asked him to canter the long side, he fell apart as he was expecting to make a circle. 

Rather than fight about it, I just put him back on course and we worked on suppling his neck and back to the right at the trot. Throughout all of this, the gardener's mower and blower kept up a steady roar which was a siren's call for my boy. He desperately wanted to keep his eye on what was happening across the street. I simply insisted on an inside bend and bumped him every time he even thought about looking to the outside.

With only enough daylight for a 20 minute ride, I halted as close to the noise as possible and patted Sydney's neck. I hopped off and rubbed his face, loosened his girth, and ran my stirrups up. As we walked toward the gate, he tried to lead (charge) in front of me, but I corrected him sharply. 

My whole attitude as the gardeners worked was business as usual. I refused to let Sydney use the noise as an excuse for naughty behavior. While he wasn't perfectly relaxed, he was a thousand times better than he would have been just six months ago. Either he has more confidence in me as a leader, or I am just becoming a stronger and more balanced rider. Or maybe, it's both!

We'll be leaving in a few hours for Confetti Farms; here's to a good day!

Sadly, I am far more "in the loop" about out of town events than I am about what's happening in my own backyard. I depend on Facebook to serve as a conduit of horsey intelligence (both local and afar), but the flow of info only works if I vigilantly scour my Newsfeed.

Apparently, I haven't been very watchful this last few weeks as I missed the post about an upcoming Ride-a-Test hosted by the Kern River Chapter of the California Dressage Society (here in Bakersfield). A Ride-a-Test, for those who don't know, is a chance to ride a dressage test of your choice under the watchful eye of a "judge" while then having a chance to talk to the judge and then re-ride the test all at a very nominal fee.

Kern River's judge is Mary Meyer, an "L" Graduate. When Mary judges the Ride-a-Tests, she judges the movements as well as she can, but she encourages schooling of the horse when necessary. In another words, if your 20-meter canter circle at A is a disaster, she pauses her judging to allow you to repeat the movement as often as you would like.

Fortunately for me, the woman who hosts Kern River's Facebook page sent out a little reminder about the event just in time for me to get an entry submitted, thank you, Edyta! The event is being held tomorrow at Confetti Farms. I am taking Sydney of course, but I can't believe how tense I feel just thinking about riding him in an off the property arena.

I've decided to ride just one test. If he's going to be a jerk, I want to just get him through it without him feeling terrorized for two hours. And if on the off chance that he is relatively well-behaved, I want him to walk away from that one test feeling some sense of success.

I sent in my entry without really stating which test I planned to ride (sorry about that, ride secretary!). We'll either do Introductory Level Test C or Training Level Test One. Is that super short three-quarter canter circle at A better, or is the longer canter that begins just after A a better option? 

My gut says to do T1 because if he fusses during the Intro C canter, I don't have any time to work him through the movement; a few strides after we start, we need to transition back to trot. I'd rather work him through the canter, but I might I need more time than the three-quarter circle allows.

So, if you're interested in seeing how we're progressing, come on down and watch some dressage tests. Sydney and I go at 12:30. I am quite certain that some of the local riders will be out working on next season's tests so you'll probably get to see quite a variety of horses and riders.

Confetti Farms is located at 6855 Cottonwood Road in Bakersfield.

Ooh … Sydney can sure canter! We had a lesson on Monday, as usual, but because of the Veteran's Day holiday, we were able to ride smack in the middle of the day under a brilliant blue sky. And it was a great lesson!

Although, even when it's brutally hard work and I am struggling with a concept, I still call them great lessons. This one was particularly fun though as we pushed Sydney just a bit, but instead of him feeling stressed and worried about the new element, he dug deep and gave willingly. I just loved that! 

JL's plan for us has been to get his trot more balanced as we move to the right lead canter. Then we canter a bit to the right and before he has too much time to get anxious, we change the conversation a bit by tracking left.

We followed that plan on Monday; I worked hard on suppling his neck to the right to get some inside bend, and I made sure to eliminate any of the hurried steps that indicate he's getting anxious. He picked up a decent right lead canter which we rode until he was relatively soft. We even spiraled in to a fairly small circle, all of which he handled quite well.

We walked for a moment and then JL instructed me to track left. As usual, he had worked himself into some tension because he realized that we were now working. No biggie. I insisted on a marching walk to trot transition, which he eventually gave me. He lost some of his earlier impulsion and energy, but with some insistence on my part (yah, me!), he loosened back up pretty quickly, and we got back to work.

When we picked up the left lead canter, JL decided it was time for a more uphill canter. Ooh la la can that boy canter! I shortened my reins and half halted, half halted, half halted. To keep him uphill, I rode the canter in a square. We rode a few strides straight, and then using my outside aids to lift his shoulder, we turned. A few straight strides, and turn; straight strides, and turn; straight strides, and turn. I had a big smile on my face; he was really nicely balanced and had definitely rocked back onto his haunches. It was the nicest canter we've ever done.

And then it was back to the right. We're getting better to the right, but it's like getting on a different horse. JL had a few suggestions to help him be better balanced:

• He can't look to the outside, ever.
  
• If he resists the inside bend, I need to really pull his head around without letting him just fall in, which requires a lot of outside rein and inside leg.
• As we make the bend of the circle, I always need to be riding him "sideways."
• When I ask for the right lead canter, I need to ask very quietly, as I do to the left, but since I know he's not balanced enough to offer it right away, I need to repeat the request just as softly. I was asking too hard the second time which was "surprising" him into a frantic scramble. If I am a bit more patient, he can organize himself a little more calmly.

We had a great time. He's fun to ride, and I am learning so much on him. I would love to be able to show him right now as I know he's fancy and could get really good scores, but that might never happen. I am okay with it though. For now, getting that kind of work out of him is all I really need.

Hungry Rider is not starving, which is a good thing. A starved-for-horse-time rider can be so focused on getting in the saddle that they don't often hear or see what's happening. That was not the case with my particular rider who has now earned a name, Louisiana (her home state).

After our ride on Sunday, we arranged a trail ride for the next day. As she had the day before, Louisiana showed up right on time, this is seriously a huge deal to me. She has her own saddle, so I suggested she bring it as she would be more comfortable in it than in my endurance saddle. She didn't have a girth though, so it took some creative thinking to locate a girth that would fit my smaller boy. 

As we headed out of the driveway, I explained the lay of the land, and told her that riding Sydney was a challenge in and of itself so I was trusting her to be more than just a passenger on Speedy. In other words, if all hell broke loose, she was on her own! Louisiana just smiled.

As we approached the little hill with the lunatic dog, I groaned. He was in the yard and waiting for us. I asked Louisiana to give me a little room as I knew that Sydney might not amble past the leaping, snarling dog. I was right; he took a few steps up the hill before the dog lunged at the fence, barking furiously. Sydney did a lovely, hell no lift and spin. He missed a row of mailboxes in his effort to flee the scene, for which I was very grateful. Once his feet were back on the pavement, he tried to propel us out of "danger," but a sharp tug on the reins brought him back under control.

As all of this was happening, I heard Speedy scrambling on the blacktop behind us, but Louisiana did a solid job of keeping him on his feet while not allowing him to bolt for home either.

Once both horses had a chance to reassess the situation, I kept up a steady, hey, dog. Hey, dog. Hey dog. Somehow, that encouraged him to sit back and listen rather than leap at the fence. For our second attempt, I approached the hill at an angle so that Sydney rode right at the dog. He was tense, but I was really pleased by how bravely he motored up the hill and passed by the dog. Behind me, I could hear Louisiana praising and encouraging Speedy by as well.

Once we reached the edge of the property, we had a good laugh about the whole thing and continued on our way chatting and promising the horses carrots for their bravery. The rest of the ride went really well. We strolled by the geese enclosure where just the week before Sydney had nearly had a heart attack, but this time there wasn't even a glance their way. 

With Speedy's experience giving Sydney some courage, we even rode the last little bit of trail that I'd been too nervous to attempt alone. And of course, Sydney motored right through without any shenanigans. In fact, Sydney power walked in the lead the entire way. Louisiana had to goose Speedy a time or two to encourage him to catch up. I love that Sydney was so brave. If you'll remember, just two months ago I had a massive fight just getting him to leave the yard!

So what of Louisiana? I introduced her to JL, but I don't know if that will go anywhere; that's up to JL. I liked Louisiana, and I liked how she handled herself. She's confident, but not cocky. She's respectful and thoughtful and willing to adapt to the current situation. I kind of put the ball in her court; if she wants to come back and ride, she knows she just needs to let me know.

We'll see where it goes.

The good news is that she showed up on time, well prepared to ride. Her breeches were in good order, she wore her paddock boots, but brought her half chaps and helmet in hand. She also brought a gatorade (she knew riding is hard work) and a bag of carrots for my horses; a thoughtful gesture.

I had hoped to have one of my boys already ridden before she arrived, but I got to the barn later than planned and so was just bridling Sydney when she pulled in. Without making any apologies, I asked her to grab a seat on the mounting block while I gave Sydney a quick ride, but I told her to tell me about her horse experience as I rode. 

Sydney didn't make it easy to listen as we were contending with the neighbor's motorcycle noise, but focusing on her conversation probably helped reduced some of my anticipatory tension. As I listened, she explained that she took regular riding lessons as a youngster and did own her own horse for a few years during high school, but most of her riding experience seems to have come from participating in her university's equestrian team. She graduated this past May.

She is originally from Louisiana, but went to school in New York. Her equestrian team kept their horses in New Jersey so the team only practiced once a week. She told some interesting stories about how transportation was arranged and how showing on a team without it's own string of horses worked. The horses they schooled on belonged to a public riding stable. After graduation, her boyfriend took a job here in the oil industry, which attracts many people from around the world, which is how a Louisiana girl ended up in California. 

From what I gathered, most of her riding experience has been on well schooled, well trained, senior horses. There might have been some younger ponies somewhere along the line, but I think they've been few. Given Sydney's level of tension on Sunday, it didn't seem prudent (legal reasons) to have someone that I've just met hop up on him. So without offering too much of an explanation, although I think she understood why Sydney was getting tucked back in his stall, I dragged out my somewhat more dependable gray pony.

The last time I had a Hungry Rider at the barn, I overwhelmed her with all of my rules before I even knew that she was a "keeper." This time, I skipped all of the grooming and tacking up protocol with the exception of how to deal with Speedy's girthiness, which by the way, has escalated again, but I am dealing with it. That needs to be its own blog post as it is quite frustrating.

She did watch attentively as I tacked up; I would have, too. Before I hop up on a strange horse, which is almost never, I like to observe their ground manners. A well-mannered pony is probably better under saddle than a demon in the cross ties will be.

Speedy has reached the stage where I feel safe letting pretty much anyone with some riding experience hop aboard. He's pretty lazy by nature. If he feels as though you have an ounce of know how, his form of disobedience will be to try to escape work by dragging his toes and stiffening his neck. A Total Beginner might freak him out a little, causing him to try and get TB off his back. I knew that wasn't going to be the case.

Just to be on the safe side, I told my guest that I would hop up first just to demonstrate how to ride through Speedy's warm up cough and stretch thing. It doesn't matter if he's been turned out to gallop or worked on the lunge, as soon as a rider hits his back, he needs to cough a few times, sneeze, snort, and stretch his neck low to the ground.

True to form, as soon as I asked for a trot, Speedy tugged the reins long and proceeded to jog around completely on his forehand as he hacked and snorted and grunted. I have learned not to fight it. I really think it's his way of loosening up his back and clearing his throat. I do ride with a very light seat, almost completely in two-point, as he does this. If he truly wants to stretch his back, I don't want to be in his way.

Hungry Rider was finally able to hop on after I felt that Speedy was not having an off day. And I have to give the girl credit; she does know how to ride. She posted the correct diagonal, took a light contact, and rode very diplomatically. She started out with a lot of walking and was very respectful of my "tips." I didn't nag her, but I suggested she try to get a bit more energy out of him now and then.

When she finally picked up the trot, she stuck to the end of the arena where I was sitting until I told her that she was welcome to use the whole arena to do changes of direction or serpentines. When Speedy started to get behind the vertical, I asked that she add more leg to keep his hind end more engaged. After that, I saw her asking him quite frequently to bring his head back up, which showed that she could feel the difference.

I finally gave her some tips on how to ask him to pick up the canter, which she followed quite well. She rode him very kindly and while he wasn't in a perfect frame, he looked quite happy. Even I struggle with keeping him on the bit; he's quite a stinker!

After putting Speedy away, we spent some time chatting about horses and just getting to know each other. What she's really hoping to do is find a low pressure trainer with whom she might serve as a working student. That of course, is not me, but I hesitated in sending her to anyone I know without first seeing if she actually knew how to ride. We decided that I would introduce her to JL at Monday's lesson.

To be continued ...

The other day I shared some homework that JL had assigned. I am happy to report that Sydney and I started our homework and breezed right through it!

One of my worries about changing the clocks was that Sydney's fall time version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde would return in full force. For the last two fall seasons, riding him after work in the waning daylight hours was a guarantee that I would be in tears by the ride's end, and he would be damp with nervous sweat.

So far (Fate, please hear and see my knock on wood!), we've made it through the first week without that weird late afternoon induced tension. When I hopped up on Thursday night, I thought I felt it brewing. He was jigging at the walk, something he never does. Rather than get tense, I simply sent him forward and let him really move out, but while he did so, I started my up, up, down exercise. Before I had made it even halfway around the arena, he settled into an acceptable rhythm, and I was able to start really working.

His head was up in the clouds, so I asked him to lower it. I didn't insist on any roundness, but that head had to come back down to planet Earth. When he resisted, I put him in a 10-meter circle and asked that inside hind to step deeply. All of a sudden, his head came back down to our atmosphere, and he maintained the rhythm.

I could have hopped off right then and there. Last fall, that would have taken me 45 minutes to achieve. On Thursday, it took less than 5 minutes. In fact, he was so submissive that I went straight to a right lead canter. It wasn't a great departure, okay, it kind of stunk, but it was on the correct lead, and we did eventually make a circle. I brought him back to walk and asked for another one.

And then, just like JL suggested, we took a walk break and started talking about something else. We picked up a left lead canter, spiraled in, spiraled out, and had another walk break.

I then asked him to track right again. He was tense and had zero bend in his body so I rode him one stride at a time asking for him to release his neck. Every single time he tried to hang on my inside rein, I bumped him off of it. For the first few minutes, I bumped him every single stride. For the next couple of minutes, I bumped him every other stride. And then finally, he gave me a half a circle before I needed to ask him to quit hanging on that inside rein.

For those of you that are better riders on better schooled horses, you're probably thinking I am the world's slowest learner. You're probably right, but that can't erase the big ol' grin that's plastered across my face! 

There is a little postscript to this post; when I rode on Sunday, the next door neighbor was working on his quads and motorcycles. For a while they would idle, which is almost a soothing sound, but then would come the inevitable vroom, vroom of a revving throttle. Sydney worked through it all. He was tense right at the beginning so I did a million 10-meter circles; some to the left, some to the right, but he finally "gave in" enough to pick up the canter both directions.

This may seem like a small thing, but in our world, it's huge. The neighbor, whom I adore, was working right next to the arena, but behind his trees, so he was quite close. I think most "hotter" horses would have found it difficult to concentrate in that situation, yet Sydney was able to pull it together for me (to some degree).

We're definitely making progress!