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[endlessrarities]

Diva had an Interesting Episode this afternoon. 

I decided to work without stirrups again - yes I'm still trying to get that elusive perfect leg position - so I ditched them at the very beginning of the lesson.  Now, Diva starts every lesson with five minutes' worth of storming around the school at a very brisk walk.  It seems to be her way of chilling out before she starts work, so I'm quite happy to let her do what she likes as long as she settles down later.

I seized the opportunity to cross my stirrups.  Unfortunately, Diva's very sensitive to people sliding around on her back at the best of times.  Add to that a very loud CLANG!!  as metal hit metal, and WHOOSH!!!  She was away.

There's several courses of action in such circumstances.  You can a) sit there screaming 'We're going to die!!!' ( in which case, you probably will), b) freeze in the hope the horse will get tired and bored before you do (a natural recipe for meeting terra firma) or c) hold your nerve and think your way through the problem.

I opted for the latter.  There's a very delicate balance to be maintained.  You cannot bump around like a sack of potatoes on the horse's back, because in its traumatised herbivore state it will naturally assume you're a lion and try and get rid of you.  Nor can you pretend you don't actually exist -  the knack is, I think, to try and keep perfectly in balance and give sufficient weight to remind your idiotic equine friend that she's supposed to be listening to her rider.  The same goes for the reins.  If you keep hauling, the horse will haul back, because it hurts.  Likewise, if you throw the reins away, she'll trip over her big hairy feet and end up on her nose.  So it's a good idea to keep reminding her gently with the rein, somewhere along the lines of 'Earth to Diva, Earth to Diva, Come in, please...'

It worked.  And I didn't fall off.  Perhaps because I determined NOT to fall off.  Not because it would've hurt, but rather because I didn't want to look like a complete eegit!

And after that, she was fine...

Comments

[birdsedge.livejournal.com]

I haven't read your LJ before, so in the interests of clarity are we talking about an indoor school, an outdoor manege or a larger field of some description? Was there an instructor and were there other horses or were you working solo?

The only time I've been seriously bolted with (out on a ride through fields) the old turning-in-a-circle trick worked, but my horse (riding school owned, but used for eventing) wasn't really spooked he was just full of his oats, bolshy and hard to hold. I was truly unnerved by it because I knew he was perfectly capable of jumping the dry-stone wall rapidly approaching, but I was not - at least under those uncontrolled circumstances.

Ah, thinking about it I did also once get seriously bolted with when another riding school horse was spooked by a tractor on a country road. Said horse shied (and I lost 1 stirrup, which is never good) and bolted. Unfortunately it was down a 1 in 10 hill (tarmac road) at a flat-out gallop. I didn't have time to think about it I just sat down hard and drove him into the bit and stopped him at the bottom of the hill, by which time, of course, the evil horse-eating tractor was well behind us. It was maybe only a 50 - 70 yard sprint, but it felt a lot longer in retrospect. I almost came unstuck at the beginning and even considered ditching, but I couldn't afford to at that speed on a hard road. Luckily I had the choice. (I've not always been that fortunate!)

To be honest I'm not sure whether I hauled with my hands or not. I probably did, but hopefully in conjunction with legs, seat, back and voice, and as soon as I felt him come back to me, gave him his head back. I didn't even think about it, I just took charge because there's nothing worse than letting your fate rest in your horse's hooves. They care about you a lot less than you care about them, especially when they're scared.

Getting bolted with in an indoor school or small arena with a fence around it has a lot more potential for disaster because of the likely contact between your outer leg and the fence in the event the horse is demented enough to crash into it or whip round too close and scrape you on the wall or fence post, but it also has the advantage that there really isn't anywhere for the horse to go.

Diva sounds a bit skittish for a riding school. She'll have to learn about crossed stirrups and odd metallic clanking. Can you do a repeat performance (of the crossing stirrups, not the bolting) next time? Rinse and repeat until she gets blase about it?

[endlessrarities.livejournal.com]

It was in a riding school, which I find infinitely preferable to the open roads or even fields. At least you don't have to add the dreaded motorist into the equation. Plus you've got the bale-out clause of last resort if things go really badly. I don't go out hacking these days, and I'd be reluctant to do so again, to be honest.

Diva's a recent addition and is still really unschooled. They bought her a few weeks ago and she's only just been brought into light work after eight years rest or so. She seems like a really genuine little horse, but she's just a bit scatty when she starts out. I quite enjoy riding her because she's not turned into a brain-dead automaton yet, if you know what I mean.

I had an episode like the one you described when I was fifteen or sixteen. I was out with another girl who had a highly strung thoroughbred (my steed was a welsh cob/TB riding school horse who quite frankly should have known better) and they both got spooked by a tractor on a fairly major road. I tried hauling there, and it just didn't work. Didn't help that the other lass was screaming her head off non-stop. The horse I was on just went, "yippee, this is fun!", and decided to gallop home and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I tried all the tricks of trying to turn the head, etc. - nothing.

Thankfully, we managed to turn them off onto a back road where they could bolt to their hearts' content. They slowed down when they wanted to, thank you very much, and we all lived to to tell the tale. My life did flash before my eyes...

My dear old horse Squire only bolted once in his time with me, and that's when I really stupidly tried to race a heavy goods train across a railway bridge. When he felt the vibrations he panicked and ran, but as soon as he'd regained 'safe' ground he was fine. He jogged all the way home, though, which was a pain. No wonder he got navicular.

[birdsedge.livejournal.com]

If a horse is going to go, he's going to go and thst's when you remember that man's relationship with equines os all a con trick really.

My first time being bolted with was age 7 when a friend and I were offered a ride on someone's ponies. We'd only just started riding and at that point we'd had 4 whole lessons. The boy who was leading us let go at the wrong moment and the ponies did as they usually did which was canter down the wide and inviting grass verge of the main road to Manchester. Janet and I didn't stand a chance. I'd only just mastered trotting. We'd never even cantered before.

There was no malice in the ponies, just puzzlement at these sacks of potatoes on their backs. I'd lost my reins completely and clung on to my pony's mane. They ended up on the wrongside of the road and when I saw a car coming I just yanked right on the pony's mane and bless him, he pulled in to the right and stopped and janet's pony followed.

We sat there, so relieved that it was all over that we were still on board when the ponies decided it was time to go back now and set off galloping up the road back home. At that point Janet fell off, but I held on until we got back to the starting point and my pony swerved up the side road towards the stable. At that point I met tarmac for the first, but not the last time in my riding career. Career was, in fact a good word for this particular escapade.

[endlessrarities.livejournal.com]

I'm amazed you went back for more after that! If that had happened to me at that age, I'd have chickened out soon after.

My first unscheduled dismount was in a riding school when I was ten or eleven, and the horse 'took off' (i.e shot off in a canter} when a workman put his radio on in the adjacent stables. I did go back after that, though - usual story of instructor saying, "You're a real rider now. Congratulations."

I am a Natural Born Coward!!

[birdsedge.livejournal.com]

I'm a natural born coward, too. More so now than I used to be, I guess, which is one of the reasons I don't ride any more. Mostly it's because life (children and work and lack of money) got in the way and before I realised it had been a few years without any riding. Then I managed to get a little bit of riding in when a stable opened up very close to home, but it wasn't open for long and that was it, really. I'm just not fit enough now and, frankly, too old for anything much more than a very safe amble on something very staid - which is not where the fun used to be for me. Old riding injuries don't help either (still the intermittent bad back and some soft tissue damage to one leg which now gets swollen as the day progresses). I'm realistic enough to admit my riding days are over - but I'm putting it all to good use in the WIP, a book for 9s - 12s called 'Your Horse Sees Dead People' - a story about horses and magic.

Tell me more about your books.

[endlessrarities.livejournal.com]

You don't sound like a Natural Born Coward to me...

I find it very difficult to adapt to the stresses and strains the sport puts on my body now. If I'm not careful, it triggers off sciatica. I've been able to build up my muscles this year and I'm finding things a lot less painful. But I can't jump anymore and I've got to moderate my cantering, particularly without stirrups.

[puddleshark.livejournal.com]

Bit different from your last lesson with Molly, then... But congratulations for staying on and regaining control!

The last time I was tanked off with in the school was on a horse who had just been clipped out for the winter. The moment he felt the cold air on his tummy, he went whizzing around and around the school, putting in a buck and squeal going into each corner. By the time he ran himself out, I had lost both stirrups and was only staying on by fervently wishing my centre of gravity down into my buttocks.

[endlessrarities.livejournal.com]

At least I wasn't subjected to a rodeo show! Well done you for sitting it out. I think if I'd stayed off balance a second longer, she'd have been bucking. I felt that moment of 'OMG! What's that shifting around on my back??!!" a split second before I righted myself. A lucky escape, I think.

Next time I'll keep the stirrups for the first five minutes!

[birdsedge.livejournal.com]

Ah, the rodeo show. Been there. Done that. Have the persistent bad back to remember it by.

Riding a young pony, just backed, out on a hack and the girl leading it decided to go at hunting pace. Small ditch cutting the grass verge was the first thing he'd ever been asked to jump with a rider on his back. He went: boing! Pop! Wheeeee.....! Did a proper sunfish (dropping his shoulder and everything). I went splat.

Pony 10/10. Jacey 0/10.

We'd never even heard of 'health and safety' in those days.

[endlessrarities.livejournal.com]

Ah, health and safety...

I got scolded yesterday for daring to rug up Diva while having her loose in the stable... I will acquiesce in future, 'cos she's not my horse. I know she won't do anything, the school staff know she won't do anything, but... For insurance purposes, rules is rules.

Heh, I liked the sound effects! I don't think I've ever had the misfortune to be paired with anything quite so, ahem, volatile!!

[birdsedge.livejournal.com]

Ah, there was a time when the particular riding school I helped out at on a rides-for-work basis used to pair me up with 'volatile' because they had a number of horses they couldn't put the paying learners on. Major was the event horse, very hot. Star was the 25 year old pony that had never learned to slow down and ran away with beginners on a regular basis just for the fun of it. Kestrel was an appaloosa stallion kept for breeding. A bit of a bastard in the stable, but well schooled if pushy on a ride. Tamarisk was the youngster who gave me a bad back. But the scariest could be the smaller ponies. You knew you were in for a rough ride when MH, the stable owner, said things like, 'Will you take Sparrow out today, Jacey, he's been bucking the little kids off...'

I was actually a bit too big for Sparrow, which makes it more difficult to stay on board. He was one of those ponies who could whip round on a sixpence and be halfway to town while you were still travelling in the original direction. On this particular occasion the ride-leader (same girl who decided hunting pace was a good idea when I was riding Tam) took the ride over some old claypits with terrain more suitable for mountain bikers or skateboarders. One of the downhills was more like a bank - virtually a slither which the horses needed to go down almost on their hocks. It was something like a 45 degree angle ending in a steep downhill track. I was bringing up the rear of the ride and because she'd got all the learners down safely they started to move off while Sparrow and I were still at the top. Sparrow decided that the others were getting too far ahead, so he launched himself off the top without warning, touched the slope about halfway down and bounded to the bottom. It was pure good luck that his saddle happened to be in the place where my backside landed because I don't actually think we were in contact for most of the descent.

MH had some super horses, though. Not at all your typical riding school nags only fit for nose-to-tail equine crocodiles. She had a fabulous Fell pony and some Dales ponies that were class winners in mountain and moorland showing at quite big shows, plus many of Kestrel's offspring with a variety of mares. All bird names, Peregrine, Kite, Robin, Eagle etc. Will dig out some old photos and scan them for my LJ at some point.

[endlessrarities.livejournal.com]

Kestrel sounds gorgeous.

One of Squire's pals in later years was an Andalusian stallion. A rather weedy Andalusian stallion, but an Andalusian nonetheless. He was a lovely horse, though rather stressed. He was imported from the Canaries by his owner, and his constant companion, a donkey gelding, was left behind. He lived a lonely life after that, which was very sad.

I think, if Squire had been younger and fitter, I'd have investigated the possibility of turning both boys out as a bachelor group (Squire was an elderly gelding with delusions of virility). They were able to 'talk' to each other over the fence between their pens (Squire's quarters at this time were positively palatial) and they really got on famously. I thought it was horrible to see that poor stallion kept in virtual isolation...