Gamebird
Well-Known Member
I've got a new laptop (yay 
) and don't entirely trust it yet - it thinks more quickly than I do! - so I'll do this report a day at a time.
It's been a busy few weeks for us with Gt Witchingham, Hopetoun and the RC Champs in quick succession. Neither of the first two went entirely to plan - the former due to my stupidity and the latter due to the conditions - but at least we'd been out and about. I think I've spent more time this month dragging the horse up and down motorways than at work. So all in all we were ready for something to show for our efforts.
Friday - Dressage
The alarm went off at 2am and after a quick cup of tea, muck-out and load we were on the road for 3am. The dogs and Fugly went straight back to sleep, I'd have liked to but sadly my vehicle doesn't come equipped with cruise control. It was a smooth journey and we pulled into A-l-W at 7am ready for an 8am briefing.
Obviously no-one had warned them in advance not to mess with Gamebird before 9am as the next hour tested my patience. I was parked by a steward, leaving room for my tent (after I'd explained that pitching the tent on the same side as my ramp was a non-starter if I wanted to unload the horse at any point). Made my way over to declare, whereupon they said that I needed my horse. Went back and unloaded my horse at which point a second steward said that I was parked in the wrong place and had to move . I chucked him the horse, put my ramp back up and moved again, leaving a camping space which was actually smaller than my tent . Went to declare, was told that I couldn't get into my stable until at least 6pm (it was still before 8am) and that if I'd wanted to get in earlier in the day I should have paid for an extra night, then just not used it. At £35 a night!!!!!!!! Back to my parking spot to put my tent up before someone parked on my camping space only to find a huge steaming dog turd in the middle of my pitch
At which point I opened the wine....
Tent erected, wine consumed, horse plaited, hoof oiled and quarter-marked and the sun out and everything looked a teeny bit better.
We flew through the trot-up (almost literally) and thanks to our extensive fitness campaign I even managed to hold a conversation with the owner of the premises whilst running back . He tried to buy Fugly, I very nearly handed him over then and there!
A quick walk round the XC proved that whilst I'd seen bigger BE Novice XC tracks it was plenty big enough and really rather technical. Nearly half of the fences were combinations. Still, no need to worry for at least 24 hours .
Eventually (3pm) it was time to hop on and warm-up for the dressage.
Fugly warmed up in the main like an ironing-board. Stiff, unyielding and rather rusty (my ironing board doesn't get much use). Usually I'd sit it out and try not to upset him but today something - maybe the 3 glasses of rose? - made me angry and I decided not to accept a 50% effort. So, after a quick shoofty around for any lurking FEI stewards Fugly was forced into the best impression I could of rollkur and I worked his lazy and insolent behind off for the next 15mins - medium, collected, medium, collected until... finally the penny dropped and he realised that it was easier to oblige than to duck out.
And so into the arena where the good work mostly continued:
Until the halt where it appeared that, although Fugly's front legs had arrived in Northamptonshire, we appeared to have left his hind legs in Yorkshire
We scored 35, about mid-field and better than recent tests. Once the complicated Riding Club formula for averaging out the two arenas had been applied (only understood by those with a doctorate in pure mathematics and statistical analysis) we found ourselves on 33
So with Fugly FINALLY installed in his stable there was just time to chuck a steak on the barbie and have a small glass of something with Santa-Claus before it was time to make amends for the 2am alarm and hit the tent.
To be continued....
) and don't entirely trust it yet - it thinks more quickly than I do! - so I'll do this report a day at a time.It's been a busy few weeks for us with Gt Witchingham, Hopetoun and the RC Champs in quick succession. Neither of the first two went entirely to plan - the former due to my stupidity and the latter due to the conditions - but at least we'd been out and about. I think I've spent more time this month dragging the horse up and down motorways than at work
. So all in all we were ready for something to show for our efforts.Friday - Dressage
The alarm went off at 2am and after a quick cup of tea, muck-out and load we were on the road for 3am. The dogs and Fugly went straight back to sleep, I'd have liked to but sadly my vehicle doesn't come equipped with cruise control
. It was a smooth journey and we pulled into A-l-W at 7am ready for an 8am briefing.Obviously no-one had warned them in advance not to mess with Gamebird before 9am as the next hour tested my patience. I was parked by a steward, leaving room for my tent (after I'd explained that pitching the tent on the same side as my ramp was a non-starter if I wanted to unload the horse at any point
). Made my way over to declare, whereupon they said that I needed my horse. Went back and unloaded my horse at which point a second steward said that I was parked in the wrong place and had to move . I chucked him the horse, put my ramp back up and moved again, leaving a camping space which was actually smaller than my tent . Went to declare, was told that I couldn't get into my stable until at least 6pm (it was still before 8am) and that if I'd wanted to get in earlier in the day I should have paid for an extra night, then just not used it. At £35 a night!!!!!!!! Back to my parking spot to put my tent up before someone parked on my camping space only to find a huge steaming dog turd in the middle of my pitch At which point I opened the wine....
Tent erected, wine consumed, horse plaited, hoof oiled and quarter-marked and the sun out and everything looked a teeny bit better
.We flew through the trot-up (almost literally
) and thanks to our extensive fitness campaign I even managed to hold a conversation with the owner of the premises whilst running back . He tried to buy Fugly, I very nearly handed him over then and there!A quick walk round the XC proved that whilst I'd seen bigger BE Novice XC tracks it was plenty big enough and really rather technical. Nearly half of the fences were combinations
. Still, no need to worry for at least 24 hours .Eventually (3pm) it was time to hop on and warm-up for the dressage.
Fugly warmed up in the main like an ironing-board. Stiff, unyielding and rather rusty (my ironing board doesn't get much use
). Usually I'd sit it out and try not to upset him but today something - maybe the 3 glasses of rose? - made me angry and I decided not to accept a 50% effort. So, after a quick shoofty around for any lurking FEI stewards Fugly was forced into the best impression I could of rollkur and I worked his lazy and insolent behind off for the next 15mins - medium, collected, medium, collected until... finally the penny dropped and he realised that it was easier to oblige than to duck out.
And so into the arena where the good work mostly continued:
Until the halt where it appeared that, although Fugly's front legs had arrived in Northamptonshire, we appeared to have left his hind legs in Yorkshire
We scored 35, about mid-field and better than recent tests. Once the complicated Riding Club formula for averaging out the two arenas had been applied (only understood by those with a doctorate in pure mathematics and statistical analysis) we found ourselves on 33
So with Fugly FINALLY installed in his stable there was just time to chuck a steak on the barbie and have a small glass of something with Santa-Claus before it was time to make amends for the 2am alarm and hit the tent.
To be continued....
