As often happens, as I was thinking and writing and focusing on the phrase "on the bit" the past two days, an email from a list I'm on popped through and mirrored some of what I was trying to express.
I'm paraphrasing, but this is the gist:
In conversation with one of the Spanish Riding School instructors, the instructor offered that the rider should never ever close the seat - but in fact should do the opposite, especially in transitions.
He noted that the SRS asks that their riders be capable of allowing the horses to come "through" utilizing 6 points of contact - calves, seatbones, and hands.
The scales of training cannot be attempted unless the rider is absolutely relaxed with a wide seat at all times - which is why it takes so long to develop into a classical rider and why time on the lunge is so precious.
If a rider tightens the seat at any time, the horse will tighten his back in response, which will create discomfort and put the horse onto the forehand and/or increase the front leg action.
He notes that with horses even a tiny bit of tension is felt as a lot of tension.
*******
The above is why I think the phrase "on the bit" can be so dangerous in its broad, misunderstood usage.
Six points of contact must be independent but at the same time utilized in harmony in order to create a horse who is "through" and on the aids.
But nothing can proceed classically without the complete relaxation of the rider, most importantly with the rider's seat. After all, this is where the weight of the rider literally bears down on the horse, onto a particularly vulnerable part of his body.
For riders not capable of relaxing their bodies completely (how many of us can even come close on a daily basis?) the horse is continually protecting his back against our tension by creating his own tension, which then brings everything we're trying to accomplish to a halt.
The focus of getting a horse "on the bit" - as it is most often used - misplaces our attention totally.
Even "on the aids" is confusing, as so many riders don't even consider the seat an aid. Think of instructions you hear from the vast majority of riding instructors: glue yourself to the saddle, plug into the saddle, etc. I see riders pumping the canter, grinding the sitting trot and the canter, posting like jack-in-the-boxes, many times while legs are pinging with every stride, and forearms are stiff. In worst case scenarios, the reins and contact to the horse's mouth has become the balance bar the rider must hang onto to accomplish all of the above contortions.
We should all be hearing instructions that focus on the relaxation of our bodies - I was fortunate that when I came back to riding I did it with a classically trained friend whose instructions to me as I went around on the lunge line week after week were: breathe, breathe out, look over your outside shoulder, let your legs drape quietly, breathe, breathe, breathe, close your eyes, feel your seat bones, etc.
The answer to every single problem I encountered in the saddle was to breathe.
She didn't allow me off the lunge line until I could use my seat (and breath) to initiate a walk, trot, change of tempo, and halt with my seat alone. And if she saw me "scooching" at all while doing it, it didn't count!
She is the trainer who taught me to "think" half halt - as opposed to doing anything with those six points of contact. "Think" the transition. There is always the opportunity to consciously add aids, but if you "think" them first, you at least allow for the subtle energy aids that our horses understand and respond to so easily - if we only let them.
Really, if we were smart, we'd teach every new rider to "get on the relaxation" with nothing else said until they do that as a matter of course. Children are good at it - and if we make the connection for them early, by showing them that the horse or pony responds when they breathe out, when they drop their legs, when they close their eyes and feel their seat bones move, they can carry that with them as the mantra for creating beauty and harmony in their riding, and in their relationships, with horses.
So, I fell up onto a soapbox here, but when it comes to being "on the bit" or being "on the relaxation," I think this is actually not a soapbox, but higher ground.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
my take on being "on the bit"
I personally wish the entire term "on the bit" would disappear from the riding world and magically be replaced with "on the aids" which would hopefully lead to a larger focus on riding a horse lightly and softly as the result of an entire gestalt happening between legs, seat, and hands.
I was recently reading a debate about whether or not a horse without a bit (halter and clip-on reins, bitless bridle, nothing) can ever do dressage b/c there is no way for the horse to be "on the bit" if indeed there isn't one.
As we know, a horse with a good rider can create beautiful, classical, and imo "correct" movement with no bit! Because it isn't just the bit that allows this to happen.
I've eradicated the notion of "on the bit" from my brain as much as possible when I ride b/c I really want to focus on the bigger circle of movement - that I'm finding more and more comes from my own balanced seat, comfort in accepting the forward motion that happens with impulsion and schwung, which THEN circles back up and doesn't get blocked or stopped by a stiff rigid (hard) rein contact.
In other words, the bit thing sort of takes care of itself if I do my job as rider. This sorts itself into different ways of going with our different horses:
Salina basically knows the drill to a T. She moves from behind, lifts her back, and responds instantly to leg/seat aids. She creates her own contact which if you allow with a soft hand, puts everything in exactly the right place. I was referring to that the other day calling it a "lightness in the bridle" that I always felt with her when I rode her.
Keil Bay is not as easy - with Keil I have to get him into his high gear - the instant he goes into high gear and I am able to ride that gear comfortably and well, the rein contact takes care of itself. The problem is when you stay in slug gear he is not "on the aids" and goes on the forehand - and leans on the bit. It feels heavy although from the outside it looks mostly correct.
Cody is still learning, but he was trained to respond to the seat, and if you focus entirely on balance in your own body, he takes a lovely light contact and is like riding a much more advanced horse. But his balance relies completely on the balance of the rider.
The pony defies all logic - he goes okay with a bit but when he truly gets "on the aids" is when daughter rides him bareback. I suspect he feels her leg/seat aids more clearly that way and his contact completely softens and shifts.
Given that I tend to go off on my own paths with this kind of thing, melding together things I've read and things I've experienced, and things I simply *think* make sense, I consulted my copy of Dressage in Harmony to remind myself what Walter Zettl says:
"A rider must RIDE the horse on the bit, not PUT the horse on the bit... When the hind leg is working properly the horse comes on the bit automatically, but when the rider tries to put the horse on the bit with the hands, the hind leg will never swing through, and will push instead of carry."
He goes on to look at stiffness in the poll as a common problem:
"The problem of 'putting the horse on the bit' should really be thought of as getting the horse to yield in the poll. The first and foremost step is to be sure that the horse is good and relaxed.... After relaxation, the second ingredient is a quiet hand. The hand must remain still so that the horse can have the trust to go to the contact. It is generally easier to overcome the resistance in the poll when the horse is moving forward than at the halt... Think always that when the horse is doing something wrong with his head that something is wrong in the back."
And my theory is that much of the time, what is wrong in the horse's back has to do with the rider. Stiffness creates tension, which blocks the circle of energy that happens when rider and horse move into harmony of motion.
Which I know perfectly well was true of me when I came back to riding in 2002! So my journey into this has focused on getting my own body out of the way of the horse, and without ever really trying to get "on the bit" that's where I find myself when I take care of the other stuff.
I was recently reading a debate about whether or not a horse without a bit (halter and clip-on reins, bitless bridle, nothing) can ever do dressage b/c there is no way for the horse to be "on the bit" if indeed there isn't one.
As we know, a horse with a good rider can create beautiful, classical, and imo "correct" movement with no bit! Because it isn't just the bit that allows this to happen.
I've eradicated the notion of "on the bit" from my brain as much as possible when I ride b/c I really want to focus on the bigger circle of movement - that I'm finding more and more comes from my own balanced seat, comfort in accepting the forward motion that happens with impulsion and schwung, which THEN circles back up and doesn't get blocked or stopped by a stiff rigid (hard) rein contact.
In other words, the bit thing sort of takes care of itself if I do my job as rider. This sorts itself into different ways of going with our different horses:
Salina basically knows the drill to a T. She moves from behind, lifts her back, and responds instantly to leg/seat aids. She creates her own contact which if you allow with a soft hand, puts everything in exactly the right place. I was referring to that the other day calling it a "lightness in the bridle" that I always felt with her when I rode her.
Keil Bay is not as easy - with Keil I have to get him into his high gear - the instant he goes into high gear and I am able to ride that gear comfortably and well, the rein contact takes care of itself. The problem is when you stay in slug gear he is not "on the aids" and goes on the forehand - and leans on the bit. It feels heavy although from the outside it looks mostly correct.
Cody is still learning, but he was trained to respond to the seat, and if you focus entirely on balance in your own body, he takes a lovely light contact and is like riding a much more advanced horse. But his balance relies completely on the balance of the rider.
The pony defies all logic - he goes okay with a bit but when he truly gets "on the aids" is when daughter rides him bareback. I suspect he feels her leg/seat aids more clearly that way and his contact completely softens and shifts.
Given that I tend to go off on my own paths with this kind of thing, melding together things I've read and things I've experienced, and things I simply *think* make sense, I consulted my copy of Dressage in Harmony to remind myself what Walter Zettl says:
"A rider must RIDE the horse on the bit, not PUT the horse on the bit... When the hind leg is working properly the horse comes on the bit automatically, but when the rider tries to put the horse on the bit with the hands, the hind leg will never swing through, and will push instead of carry."
He goes on to look at stiffness in the poll as a common problem:
"The problem of 'putting the horse on the bit' should really be thought of as getting the horse to yield in the poll. The first and foremost step is to be sure that the horse is good and relaxed.... After relaxation, the second ingredient is a quiet hand. The hand must remain still so that the horse can have the trust to go to the contact. It is generally easier to overcome the resistance in the poll when the horse is moving forward than at the halt... Think always that when the horse is doing something wrong with his head that something is wrong in the back."
And my theory is that much of the time, what is wrong in the horse's back has to do with the rider. Stiffness creates tension, which blocks the circle of energy that happens when rider and horse move into harmony of motion.
Which I know perfectly well was true of me when I came back to riding in 2002! So my journey into this has focused on getting my own body out of the way of the horse, and without ever really trying to get "on the bit" that's where I find myself when I take care of the other stuff.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
today's ride
I started early so as not to end up riding into the night - Keil Bay was so impatient for me to let him into the barn aisle to tack up he kicked Cody's back door and broke one of the white cross-pieces off. I'm starting to wonder if my telling the Big Bay that I will be leaving for a writing retreat for 6 days was a gigantic mistake. All of a sudden it's crazy around here!
I was soaking Keil's hooves in warm water with oil of oregano (my fancy word is "oil of oregano infusion hoof bath") while I groomed him. Rafer Johnson was with us and decided to roll in the barn aisle. He ended up underneath Keil Bay's belly, one tiny donkey hoof in the infusion with Keil's hoof, and bless the Big Bay, he did not move a centimeter.
They are all full of beans right now - I watched Rafer roll and thought "oh no" - but it was fine.
Used the mounting block again today and popped right on. Suddenly it doesn't seem like all that big a deal! A good thing.
Today's challenge was the afternoon sun illuminating the now empty hay tent (see previous post for details on why it's empty) in a way that did indeed seem a bit scary. Keil was absolutely ears pricked blowing through nostrils each time we came around that end of the arena. I realized that with the sun blazing, we were both half blinded and what we could see looked very much like a huge, glowing silver ghost. I decided maybe this monster was real for Keil and tried to find some ways to approach without pushing him too hard.
Initially I simply made preemptive choices to change direction, circle to the inside, or otherwise avoid that specific corner. We did a lot of walking and then more big walking. After he was warmed up, we did serpentines along the entire arena, ending up so that the last one came up to the tent. Because he was so focused on the pattern, he didn't really have time to get scared, so that succeeded in getting us close without much reaction.
We then did some trot work on a big figure 8 using the entire arena. This too brought us close to the tent, but again, the repetition of the pattern lulled Keil into a working mode that allowed us to go right by the tent with no reaction.
We did some work on turns on the forehand/haunches that were pretty much perfect. Reinback and square halting were not as good as yesterday but I didn't belabor them.
We spent a little time playing dodge the donkey - Rafer was meandering around the arena, periodically crossing our path. This actually plugged in a little fun - when we encountered him I'd make a quick decision about where to go to avoid him and Keil had to act fast.
At the end of the ride, I dismounted and took Keil Bay over to the hay tent. He was truly alarmed by it. He walked nicely with me but was blowing as we got close. I went ahead to show him it was okay, and we stood together and gazed at it for a minute. We stood until he stopped blowing and then circled past it again, and then headed out. I walked him around to the other side to make sure he saw it from both angles with the sun shining in.
And I made him a little meal of warm timothy cubes and a few oats sprinkled on top, which he ate while I untacked and groomed. Of course as soon as I was done he marched right out to the scary hay tent and befriended it again.
I was soaking Keil's hooves in warm water with oil of oregano (my fancy word is "oil of oregano infusion hoof bath") while I groomed him. Rafer Johnson was with us and decided to roll in the barn aisle. He ended up underneath Keil Bay's belly, one tiny donkey hoof in the infusion with Keil's hoof, and bless the Big Bay, he did not move a centimeter.
They are all full of beans right now - I watched Rafer roll and thought "oh no" - but it was fine.
Used the mounting block again today and popped right on. Suddenly it doesn't seem like all that big a deal! A good thing.
Today's challenge was the afternoon sun illuminating the now empty hay tent (see previous post for details on why it's empty) in a way that did indeed seem a bit scary. Keil was absolutely ears pricked blowing through nostrils each time we came around that end of the arena. I realized that with the sun blazing, we were both half blinded and what we could see looked very much like a huge, glowing silver ghost. I decided maybe this monster was real for Keil and tried to find some ways to approach without pushing him too hard.
Initially I simply made preemptive choices to change direction, circle to the inside, or otherwise avoid that specific corner. We did a lot of walking and then more big walking. After he was warmed up, we did serpentines along the entire arena, ending up so that the last one came up to the tent. Because he was so focused on the pattern, he didn't really have time to get scared, so that succeeded in getting us close without much reaction.
We then did some trot work on a big figure 8 using the entire arena. This too brought us close to the tent, but again, the repetition of the pattern lulled Keil into a working mode that allowed us to go right by the tent with no reaction.
We did some work on turns on the forehand/haunches that were pretty much perfect. Reinback and square halting were not as good as yesterday but I didn't belabor them.
We spent a little time playing dodge the donkey - Rafer was meandering around the arena, periodically crossing our path. This actually plugged in a little fun - when we encountered him I'd make a quick decision about where to go to avoid him and Keil had to act fast.
At the end of the ride, I dismounted and took Keil Bay over to the hay tent. He was truly alarmed by it. He walked nicely with me but was blowing as we got close. I went ahead to show him it was okay, and we stood together and gazed at it for a minute. We stood until he stopped blowing and then circled past it again, and then headed out. I walked him around to the other side to make sure he saw it from both angles with the sun shining in.
And I made him a little meal of warm timothy cubes and a few oats sprinkled on top, which he ate while I untacked and groomed. Of course as soon as I was done he marched right out to the scary hay tent and befriended it again.
a ride at dusk and the herd goes wild
Addendum: When I went out this morning I found a 12 foot, 1.5 inch thick, solid oak board kicked cleanly in half and lying in two pieces in Cody's stall. :0 I suspect Keil Bay did the kicking, but not sure. No injuries on any geldings, thank goodness. I'm thinking instead of buying a new mower we should probably buy hitches, harnesses, and farm implements and put this crew to work!
Yesterday I had a chiro adjustment and massage scheduled for the middle of the afternoon, so decided I would ride immediately upon arriving home around 5 p.m.
A quick note about regular massage and chiro work: last week I had a massage. I'm currently getting chiro with massage after every other week. On the off weeks I'm getting massage only. Last week was the first week that I was able to get a "wellness" massage, meaning there was no specific issue to work on. I was so excited - feeling great and happy that my body was in such a relaxed, balanced place.
The massage was wonderful, as usual. I floated out of the office and came home, and was so relaxed and happy I decided to fold the mountain of laundry and just enjoy the weightless feeling of my body. I was in the living room in front of our smaller sofa, happily folding, unaware that a certain Corgi pup had placed himself right behind my feet. I took a step back, sensed him there, lost my balance, and literally fell flat on my back on the hardwood floor. All I remember thinking was "damn, the good feelings from the massage are getting ready to end."
The funny thing was, after I hit the floor and got over the shock, I realized that I couldn't really tell what part of my body had hit. I could tell I'd fallen, but nothing was especially painful. I decided to use an ice pack from the neck down and just try to alleviate bruising or swelling. I never had bruising or swelling. Or any serious impact at all. I think I was so relaxed when I fell that no part of my body tensed. I didn't twist in any way trying to stop the fall, or break the fall. I just fell like a tree.
So, back to yesterday. The chiropractor adjusted several places and the massage focused on my back. I walked out feeling fabulous again, and came home ready to ride. As I walked through the house I decided not to change into riding breeches to save some time. I called out to my daughter to come out and help me with mounting, put on my riding boots, and went to the barn. Keil Bay was waiting at the gate. He came in and I did a quick grooming, tacked up, put on the bitless bridle, and went into the arena. As he did the day before, he lined himself up by the barrel. But when I got up on the barrel he turned his head back to me, and Cody came up on the other side of the arena fence. Suddenly I was standing on a barrel with two big horse heads sniffing my legs.
Daughter hadn't come out. I got down and tried to get Keil lined up again while I also tried to shoo Cody away. Meanwhile, the sun had set and it was getting shadowy. The arena light came on. In a moment of total frustration, I grabbed the mountain block, shoved it with my foot into place by Keil Bay, and climbed on, the regular old way.
Keil looked back at me, like "now wasn't that easier than the barrel?"
And it was.
I think the bodywork was a huge factor in my hopping right on instead of fidgeting.
Our ride was a lot different than the day before. Keil is not fond of riding in the arena at night, although he generally doesn't do anything crazy. He's just super alert and ready to go at the slightest hint. We warmed up in the entire arena, with me focusing on keeping one of his ears on me as we went into the two darkest corners. I could hear deer crashing around every few minutes, and Keil was acutely aware of every sound, but he did a great job.
Given the increasing darkness, the very active deer, and the fact that I haven't been in regular work with him lately, I decided to work in the middle 20 meter circle in the arena. At first Keil wanted to cut the circle on the back field side, but we eventually got a correct circle and decent bend. We did a lot of walking and changing direction inside the circle, and then took a break around the entire arena, plus a circuit through the very dark barnyard and back. I'd left the gate open so we could easily do that.
We ended with some trotting in the circle, both directions, and then walk/trot/walk around the entire arena. While I'd rather have ridden in daylight, it was a nice exercise in connection - no need for tuning up response to aids! The deer in the woods took care of that.
About the time I dismounted my daughter came out. She smiled when I told her I'd hopped on from the mountain block.
*******
This morning my husband came in from the barn exclaiming. The herd had broken the paddock gate and spent at least some portion of the night in the barnyard. One of them went in the hay tent and brought the entire round bale core out into the middle of the barnyard and UNROLLED it so they all had plenty of space to stand and eat.
I've seen Keil pick up an 80-lb. square bale with his teeth and toss it like a jolly ball, so it wouldn't surprise me if he's the culprit. I have no idea who rolled it out - but I guess I should be thankful one of them did, since that allowed the entire herd to have equal access!
There is never a dull moment around here.
Yesterday I had a chiro adjustment and massage scheduled for the middle of the afternoon, so decided I would ride immediately upon arriving home around 5 p.m.
A quick note about regular massage and chiro work: last week I had a massage. I'm currently getting chiro with massage after every other week. On the off weeks I'm getting massage only. Last week was the first week that I was able to get a "wellness" massage, meaning there was no specific issue to work on. I was so excited - feeling great and happy that my body was in such a relaxed, balanced place.
The massage was wonderful, as usual. I floated out of the office and came home, and was so relaxed and happy I decided to fold the mountain of laundry and just enjoy the weightless feeling of my body. I was in the living room in front of our smaller sofa, happily folding, unaware that a certain Corgi pup had placed himself right behind my feet. I took a step back, sensed him there, lost my balance, and literally fell flat on my back on the hardwood floor. All I remember thinking was "damn, the good feelings from the massage are getting ready to end."
The funny thing was, after I hit the floor and got over the shock, I realized that I couldn't really tell what part of my body had hit. I could tell I'd fallen, but nothing was especially painful. I decided to use an ice pack from the neck down and just try to alleviate bruising or swelling. I never had bruising or swelling. Or any serious impact at all. I think I was so relaxed when I fell that no part of my body tensed. I didn't twist in any way trying to stop the fall, or break the fall. I just fell like a tree.
So, back to yesterday. The chiropractor adjusted several places and the massage focused on my back. I walked out feeling fabulous again, and came home ready to ride. As I walked through the house I decided not to change into riding breeches to save some time. I called out to my daughter to come out and help me with mounting, put on my riding boots, and went to the barn. Keil Bay was waiting at the gate. He came in and I did a quick grooming, tacked up, put on the bitless bridle, and went into the arena. As he did the day before, he lined himself up by the barrel. But when I got up on the barrel he turned his head back to me, and Cody came up on the other side of the arena fence. Suddenly I was standing on a barrel with two big horse heads sniffing my legs.
Daughter hadn't come out. I got down and tried to get Keil lined up again while I also tried to shoo Cody away. Meanwhile, the sun had set and it was getting shadowy. The arena light came on. In a moment of total frustration, I grabbed the mountain block, shoved it with my foot into place by Keil Bay, and climbed on, the regular old way.
Keil looked back at me, like "now wasn't that easier than the barrel?"
And it was.
I think the bodywork was a huge factor in my hopping right on instead of fidgeting.
Our ride was a lot different than the day before. Keil is not fond of riding in the arena at night, although he generally doesn't do anything crazy. He's just super alert and ready to go at the slightest hint. We warmed up in the entire arena, with me focusing on keeping one of his ears on me as we went into the two darkest corners. I could hear deer crashing around every few minutes, and Keil was acutely aware of every sound, but he did a great job.
Given the increasing darkness, the very active deer, and the fact that I haven't been in regular work with him lately, I decided to work in the middle 20 meter circle in the arena. At first Keil wanted to cut the circle on the back field side, but we eventually got a correct circle and decent bend. We did a lot of walking and changing direction inside the circle, and then took a break around the entire arena, plus a circuit through the very dark barnyard and back. I'd left the gate open so we could easily do that.
We ended with some trotting in the circle, both directions, and then walk/trot/walk around the entire arena. While I'd rather have ridden in daylight, it was a nice exercise in connection - no need for tuning up response to aids! The deer in the woods took care of that.
About the time I dismounted my daughter came out. She smiled when I told her I'd hopped on from the mountain block.
*******
This morning my husband came in from the barn exclaiming. The herd had broken the paddock gate and spent at least some portion of the night in the barnyard. One of them went in the hay tent and brought the entire round bale core out into the middle of the barnyard and UNROLLED it so they all had plenty of space to stand and eat.
I've seen Keil pick up an 80-lb. square bale with his teeth and toss it like a jolly ball, so it wouldn't surprise me if he's the culprit. I have no idea who rolled it out - but I guess I should be thankful one of them did, since that allowed the entire herd to have equal access!
There is never a dull moment around here.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
inspiration to ride, and the amazing Big Bay
Yesterday after posting Uta Graf's lovely ride, I went out to the barn, cleaned the entire tack room, let the Big Bay into the barn yard for some hoof cleaning, and then came in to get his sheepskin pad.
Keil seemed perfectly happy to come into the barn aisle and practice being tied (so much of what I do with him I do sans halter). I groomed him, realized he needed a sheath cleaning, got some warm water and took care of that, and then tacked up.
I decided to use his old bit, an eggbutt snaffle, that I put onto Salina's old bridle so I could use it as needed - I removed the cavesson so it's very much like Keil's bridle now, just with a different bit. When I put it on, he reached for the bit and took it into his mouth eagerly. I thought I had configured the straps for him before, but yesterday it seemed tighter and the bit seemed too high, so I lowered it to the last hole and hoped that might work. The bit was a little lower than I'd normally put it. But the moment I buckled the last strap, Keil lowered his head and began to mouth the bit in a clearly relieved, happy way. So I decided we'd try it and I gave myself the silent instruction to keep a soft contact so it wouldn't clank around too much.
In the arena I let Keil go while I brought the mounting block (I've noticed over the past year that every time I type "mounting" it comes out as "mountain" - which is truly one of those very relevant slips - that's how it has felt to me!) to the barrel I've been using to get on. Before I even had the mountain (see, there it went again) block positioned beside the barrel, Keil had walked over and lined himself up.
I praised him and then instead of climbing up and just getting on, I fidgeted. And he looked confused. "What does she want me to do?" He took a step back so his head was beside me instead of the saddle. This is entirely my issue and while I could spend a bunch of time analyzing it, I decided not to do that. Daughter came and helped by holding Keil and I slid easily onto his back. I think I have actually over-analyzed the whole mountain thing (and again the slip!) and I am just going to get on as fast and as easily as I can for now and forget about it.
There was the immediate feeling of total relief when my bottom hit the saddle. I was so happy to be there. Keil was happy to have me there, and off we went.
I had two areas of focus for myself: keeping a soft contact and equally weighting both stirrups. At one point I felt myself nagging with my legs to get a rhythmic walk and I took my legs off and began to chant out loud: one two three four, one two three four. Keil instantly knew what I was asking for and without missing a beat he stepped into the rhythm. We worked on maintaining that for several circuits around the arena in both directions. It was amazing how that simple exercise catapulted the ride onto a much higher, more advanced plane.
Rhythm and relaxation. It works.
So we had rhythm. We had relaxation. I was focusing on my contact. This bridle is very light in the hand. I don't like it much, as it is not an expensive bridle and the leather isn't that nice, but there's something about it that feels light and it's easy to hold the reins. (which are simple black web reins, but very soft because they're fairly old and also not that well made) It occurs to me now that because this was the bridle I got for Salina when she first came to us, and the bridle I rode her in, maybe her lightness has soaked into it. There was definitely something going on that seemed almost magical - as though my hands had "learned" a more advanced way of being.
We proceeded with lots of walking, going deep into the corners and then doing free walks across the diagonals to relax even more. We worked on square halts and a little reinback.
We incorporated turns on the forehand and haunches into the corner work, did some shoulder-in, and through it all I made sure I was breathing deeply. Keil was very much on the aids at this point and I asked if he wanted to trot. I mean literally asked: "Keil Bay, do you want to do some trot?" And I put in a half halt and applied both legs. He went into a quite lovely trot and we organized ourselves. I didn't want to do too much trotting since he's been out of work for several weeks - but I wanted to do enough that we could benefit from the work we'd done toward rhythm, relaxation, and contact. We did about four long sides worth of trot in each direction and by the last two we got to schwung.
I should say Keil offered schwung and I received it. I don't think even the most advanced rider can ask for schwung - it comes from the horse, and only comes when we do the right things. Keil Bay almost always offers it when I take care of myself - if you try to demand it from him you might get grinding of the teeth, or you might get him leaning on your hands. But if you do what you're supposed to as a rider, he gives you poetry.
A lovely way of going where of course I wanted to go on forever, but it was the right place to end yesterday.
I wish I could convey the aura Keil has after a really good ride. He is so connected, so pleased with himself, so relaxed, and totally willing to stand in the barn aisle with no halter or lead rope and let me untack him slowly, brush him down, check his feet, and then offer him a handful of oats. He usually licks my hands, lowers his head so he can look me right in the eye, and only then does he saunter out of the barn aisle to graze a little in one of the barnyards while I clean tack and put things away.
I always think about the way Keil ends each ride with me. He rewards ME for the ride. It's what makes him so very special, and why I think we'll keep going no matter how old he gets or how old I get.
Every single time I watch him saunter out of the barn aisle after a ride I think: how did I get so lucky to find this horse?
Thank you, Keil Bay. You're priceless.
Keil seemed perfectly happy to come into the barn aisle and practice being tied (so much of what I do with him I do sans halter). I groomed him, realized he needed a sheath cleaning, got some warm water and took care of that, and then tacked up.
I decided to use his old bit, an eggbutt snaffle, that I put onto Salina's old bridle so I could use it as needed - I removed the cavesson so it's very much like Keil's bridle now, just with a different bit. When I put it on, he reached for the bit and took it into his mouth eagerly. I thought I had configured the straps for him before, but yesterday it seemed tighter and the bit seemed too high, so I lowered it to the last hole and hoped that might work. The bit was a little lower than I'd normally put it. But the moment I buckled the last strap, Keil lowered his head and began to mouth the bit in a clearly relieved, happy way. So I decided we'd try it and I gave myself the silent instruction to keep a soft contact so it wouldn't clank around too much.
In the arena I let Keil go while I brought the mounting block (I've noticed over the past year that every time I type "mounting" it comes out as "mountain" - which is truly one of those very relevant slips - that's how it has felt to me!) to the barrel I've been using to get on. Before I even had the mountain (see, there it went again) block positioned beside the barrel, Keil had walked over and lined himself up.
I praised him and then instead of climbing up and just getting on, I fidgeted. And he looked confused. "What does she want me to do?" He took a step back so his head was beside me instead of the saddle. This is entirely my issue and while I could spend a bunch of time analyzing it, I decided not to do that. Daughter came and helped by holding Keil and I slid easily onto his back. I think I have actually over-analyzed the whole mountain thing (and again the slip!) and I am just going to get on as fast and as easily as I can for now and forget about it.
There was the immediate feeling of total relief when my bottom hit the saddle. I was so happy to be there. Keil was happy to have me there, and off we went.
I had two areas of focus for myself: keeping a soft contact and equally weighting both stirrups. At one point I felt myself nagging with my legs to get a rhythmic walk and I took my legs off and began to chant out loud: one two three four, one two three four. Keil instantly knew what I was asking for and without missing a beat he stepped into the rhythm. We worked on maintaining that for several circuits around the arena in both directions. It was amazing how that simple exercise catapulted the ride onto a much higher, more advanced plane.
Rhythm and relaxation. It works.
So we had rhythm. We had relaxation. I was focusing on my contact. This bridle is very light in the hand. I don't like it much, as it is not an expensive bridle and the leather isn't that nice, but there's something about it that feels light and it's easy to hold the reins. (which are simple black web reins, but very soft because they're fairly old and also not that well made) It occurs to me now that because this was the bridle I got for Salina when she first came to us, and the bridle I rode her in, maybe her lightness has soaked into it. There was definitely something going on that seemed almost magical - as though my hands had "learned" a more advanced way of being.
We proceeded with lots of walking, going deep into the corners and then doing free walks across the diagonals to relax even more. We worked on square halts and a little reinback.
We incorporated turns on the forehand and haunches into the corner work, did some shoulder-in, and through it all I made sure I was breathing deeply. Keil was very much on the aids at this point and I asked if he wanted to trot. I mean literally asked: "Keil Bay, do you want to do some trot?" And I put in a half halt and applied both legs. He went into a quite lovely trot and we organized ourselves. I didn't want to do too much trotting since he's been out of work for several weeks - but I wanted to do enough that we could benefit from the work we'd done toward rhythm, relaxation, and contact. We did about four long sides worth of trot in each direction and by the last two we got to schwung.
I should say Keil offered schwung and I received it. I don't think even the most advanced rider can ask for schwung - it comes from the horse, and only comes when we do the right things. Keil Bay almost always offers it when I take care of myself - if you try to demand it from him you might get grinding of the teeth, or you might get him leaning on your hands. But if you do what you're supposed to as a rider, he gives you poetry.
A lovely way of going where of course I wanted to go on forever, but it was the right place to end yesterday.
I wish I could convey the aura Keil has after a really good ride. He is so connected, so pleased with himself, so relaxed, and totally willing to stand in the barn aisle with no halter or lead rope and let me untack him slowly, brush him down, check his feet, and then offer him a handful of oats. He usually licks my hands, lowers his head so he can look me right in the eye, and only then does he saunter out of the barn aisle to graze a little in one of the barnyards while I clean tack and put things away.
I always think about the way Keil ends each ride with me. He rewards ME for the ride. It's what makes him so very special, and why I think we'll keep going no matter how old he gets or how old I get.
Every single time I watch him saunter out of the barn aisle after a ride I think: how did I get so lucky to find this horse?
Thank you, Keil Bay. You're priceless.
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