Charem
Well-Known Member
...Sorry guys, there's no amusing booby stories in this one 
It would seem I had forgotten, alongside a multitude of other semi-important things, to offer a sacrificial lamb to whichever divine entity was in charge of last weekend's weather. Two weeks, we had two whole weeks of wall to wall sunshine and blue skies in the run up to my first event of the season but as I myself and my two previously willing helpers sat huddled in the truck with the heating on full, the rain fell sharply from the sky, pushed horizontal by the gale force winds. I suspect my helpers were beginning to regret offering their assistance by this point.
Eventually the rain did ease off a bit and we braved a walk to the secretaries tent which, having survived without a soaking gave us courage to venture further afield to walk the cross country course. However not without a coat underarm. The course was, as far as I can remember the same as last year's and a perfect springboard to launch myself and Charlie in to the 2015 eventing season.
He warmed up sweetly enough in his usual fashion of not doing anything particularly bad but then not doing anything particularly well either. He is average at dressage and ten years of ownership have taught me to accept him for the shuffle-footed, dishy legged cob cob that he is and try to pick up the marks through accuracy instead. The test felt okay, he remained in front of my leg for the most part and to be fair the several mistakes were my fault. It was, as per usual an average test.
So when I was approaching fence two in the show jumping and the commentator announced that I had scored 25.5, I nearly fell off! Okay, time to remember how to ride I thought. For about seven strides I did and then Charlie took offense to the fillers under fence 3. He swung his quarters left and begun grinding to a halt when I commissioned my very growly 'Gyyeeetttttt Ohhhhnnnnnnn' usually reserved for the nappy backwards babies at work. Charlie, shocked that I would speak to him in such a manner leapt like a scolded cat before completing the rest of the course clear - despite my best efforts of burying him in to most of the remaining fences.
Cross country loomed and the butterflies were beginning to kick in. I had mistakenly taken a detour back to the trailer via the score shelter and seen that my dressage was the best of my section. With no faults to add from show jumping I knew that a clear round across the country would secure us the win. It was a realisation that terrified me. Thankfully the warm up was empty when we arrived and after a quick canter and pop over each jump it was time to face our cross country demons that were desperately trying to resurface.
Charlie remained remarkably calm during the countdown. A little jig jog here and there but none of the past antics of rearing, bucking and running backwards. As the starter called one I put my leg on and straight away he took up the bit and cantered boldly to fence one leaving our demons behind in the start box. He flew two, three and four in the same fashion as the first and then confidently jumped the coffin at five undeterred by the fact his legs were in a muddle because I had tried to be clever by asking for a change on the curving approach. Over six and then cantering on to the next combination at seven, a roll top with brush followed by a downhill curve to a step up to a skinny. We got fractionally close to part A, and Charlie in all his enthusiasm and complete inability to actually 'brush' through brush fences launched in to orbit. A naughty word rhyming with duck preceded by 'Oh' slipped from my lips and I found myself on the buckle end of the reins with B and C still to complete. Of course my first reaction to this predicament was to sit and flap like the aforementioned waterfowl. Charlie sensibly ignored the goings on on his back and completed the rest of the combination with ease. I was still wildly patting him whilst telling him how wonderful he was when we got to the water a eight, so he had to take care of that too. In fact it wasn't until the owlhole at ten that I finally resumed functional rider duties.
Tightly turning between a row of trees we were faced with another combination at eleven, a sheep feeder topped again with brush followed by fence twelve, a skinny five or six strides after. On approach Charlie gave me that wonderful feeling of reading the question and in mid-air over eleven and I felt him lock on to the log pile at twelve. I was more than happy to take a back seat and leave him to it, jumping out of a wonderful forward stride before cantering on to the next, a small pheasant feeder which incidentally we probably jumped the worse of all. Having scuttled thirteen it was on to the trakhaner spanning over an impressive ditch, which he took no notice of. The rest of the ride home was much the same, right up to the last which we met spot on at a gallop. It was the perfect jump to finish.
I had an anxious wait to see whether I had picked up any time faults. I was pretty sure I hadn't but when you're only point five of a mark ahead of your nearest rival it's easy to let doubt creep in. I've been the bridesmaid a couple times before and it would be just my luck for me to miss out on the top spot again because of something silly as a couple seconds...
[Content removed]
No times faults and our very first eventing win!
I really couldn't be prouder of Charlie. It's been one hell of a rollercoaster, these past ten and a bit years. From the early days of not being able to get him over the very smallest of logs to him suffering a serious tendon injury that threatened to end his ridden career altogether, oh and then my falling off a muckheap and breaking my leg in multiple places...There were certainly times when I thought we would never get the chance to set our truly dire BE record, which contained more letters than the alphabet, straight. Despite his tendency to throw in dirty stops cross country and our multiple eliminations I kept hanging on to the hope that we would one day get round clear. Having owned him since a four year old I knew that everything he did, the good and the bad, was my doing and my younger self who frequently unbalanced and hindered him to a fence had taught him to stop. We were a recipe for disaster; a just out of riding school girl and a just under saddle horse and whilst yes, disaster to a point did follow I can't begin to explain how much Charlie has taught me. He took away my confidence but he gave back so much more.
Anyway, I'm beginning to gush! Here's a photo from back in the day, this was taken shortly before I was dumped and Charlie continued to hunt without me.
Thanks for reading, I would offer easter eggs, but i've eaten them all
We're off to tackle our first pre novice in a very long time next, at Whitfield I think. I need to dig out my brave pants first though.
It would seem I had forgotten, alongside a multitude of other semi-important things, to offer a sacrificial lamb to whichever divine entity was in charge of last weekend's weather. Two weeks, we had two whole weeks of wall to wall sunshine and blue skies in the run up to my first event of the season but as I myself and my two previously willing helpers sat huddled in the truck with the heating on full, the rain fell sharply from the sky, pushed horizontal by the gale force winds. I suspect my helpers were beginning to regret offering their assistance by this point.
Eventually the rain did ease off a bit and we braved a walk to the secretaries tent which, having survived without a soaking gave us courage to venture further afield to walk the cross country course. However not without a coat underarm. The course was, as far as I can remember the same as last year's and a perfect springboard to launch myself and Charlie in to the 2015 eventing season.
He warmed up sweetly enough in his usual fashion of not doing anything particularly bad but then not doing anything particularly well either. He is average at dressage and ten years of ownership have taught me to accept him for the shuffle-footed, dishy legged cob cob that he is and try to pick up the marks through accuracy instead. The test felt okay, he remained in front of my leg for the most part and to be fair the several mistakes were my fault. It was, as per usual an average test.
So when I was approaching fence two in the show jumping and the commentator announced that I had scored 25.5, I nearly fell off! Okay, time to remember how to ride I thought. For about seven strides I did and then Charlie took offense to the fillers under fence 3. He swung his quarters left and begun grinding to a halt when I commissioned my very growly 'Gyyeeetttttt Ohhhhnnnnnnn' usually reserved for the nappy backwards babies at work. Charlie, shocked that I would speak to him in such a manner leapt like a scolded cat before completing the rest of the course clear - despite my best efforts of burying him in to most of the remaining fences.
Cross country loomed and the butterflies were beginning to kick in. I had mistakenly taken a detour back to the trailer via the score shelter and seen that my dressage was the best of my section. With no faults to add from show jumping I knew that a clear round across the country would secure us the win. It was a realisation that terrified me. Thankfully the warm up was empty when we arrived and after a quick canter and pop over each jump it was time to face our cross country demons that were desperately trying to resurface.
Charlie remained remarkably calm during the countdown. A little jig jog here and there but none of the past antics of rearing, bucking and running backwards. As the starter called one I put my leg on and straight away he took up the bit and cantered boldly to fence one leaving our demons behind in the start box. He flew two, three and four in the same fashion as the first and then confidently jumped the coffin at five undeterred by the fact his legs were in a muddle because I had tried to be clever by asking for a change on the curving approach. Over six and then cantering on to the next combination at seven, a roll top with brush followed by a downhill curve to a step up to a skinny. We got fractionally close to part A, and Charlie in all his enthusiasm and complete inability to actually 'brush' through brush fences launched in to orbit. A naughty word rhyming with duck preceded by 'Oh' slipped from my lips and I found myself on the buckle end of the reins with B and C still to complete. Of course my first reaction to this predicament was to sit and flap like the aforementioned waterfowl. Charlie sensibly ignored the goings on on his back and completed the rest of the combination with ease. I was still wildly patting him whilst telling him how wonderful he was when we got to the water a eight, so he had to take care of that too. In fact it wasn't until the owlhole at ten that I finally resumed functional rider duties.
Tightly turning between a row of trees we were faced with another combination at eleven, a sheep feeder topped again with brush followed by fence twelve, a skinny five or six strides after. On approach Charlie gave me that wonderful feeling of reading the question and in mid-air over eleven and I felt him lock on to the log pile at twelve. I was more than happy to take a back seat and leave him to it, jumping out of a wonderful forward stride before cantering on to the next, a small pheasant feeder which incidentally we probably jumped the worse of all. Having scuttled thirteen it was on to the trakhaner spanning over an impressive ditch, which he took no notice of. The rest of the ride home was much the same, right up to the last which we met spot on at a gallop. It was the perfect jump to finish.
I had an anxious wait to see whether I had picked up any time faults. I was pretty sure I hadn't but when you're only point five of a mark ahead of your nearest rival it's easy to let doubt creep in. I've been the bridesmaid a couple times before and it would be just my luck for me to miss out on the top spot again because of something silly as a couple seconds...
[Content removed]
No times faults and our very first eventing win!
I really couldn't be prouder of Charlie. It's been one hell of a rollercoaster, these past ten and a bit years. From the early days of not being able to get him over the very smallest of logs to him suffering a serious tendon injury that threatened to end his ridden career altogether, oh and then my falling off a muckheap and breaking my leg in multiple places...There were certainly times when I thought we would never get the chance to set our truly dire BE record, which contained more letters than the alphabet, straight. Despite his tendency to throw in dirty stops cross country and our multiple eliminations I kept hanging on to the hope that we would one day get round clear. Having owned him since a four year old I knew that everything he did, the good and the bad, was my doing and my younger self who frequently unbalanced and hindered him to a fence had taught him to stop. We were a recipe for disaster; a just out of riding school girl and a just under saddle horse and whilst yes, disaster to a point did follow I can't begin to explain how much Charlie has taught me. He took away my confidence but he gave back so much more.
Anyway, I'm beginning to gush! Here's a photo from back in the day, this was taken shortly before I was dumped and Charlie continued to hunt without me.
Thanks for reading, I would offer easter eggs, but i've eaten them all
We're off to tackle our first pre novice in a very long time next, at Whitfield I think. I need to dig out my brave pants first though.
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