A little Razzle Dazzle

Courtesy of the amazing EQUUSPIX

 A little razzle dazzle never hurt anyone. That was the theory, but then I wasnʼt the one trying to steer my horse around the arena. I was however the one behind the scenes at our first ever dressage festival. A small show with a bit of shine and shimmer to give young horses some big competition experience quickly turned into a two day dressage extravaganza. We had estimated entries to be somewhere about sixty or seventy, but by the closing day we were sitting in the stable yard office with notice from over a hundred and thirty dressage-mad loons all wanting to compete. With some scrambling, much coffee, and even more hair pulling we managed to persuade all the kindly, more advanced riders from elementary level and upwards to move their tests to the following day, Sunday. Even with a new judge flown in for the day, the classes were run with absolutely no time to spare. Thankfully, a fantastic crew of stewards, door staff, and ground crew rallied all the riders in and out of the main arena without much complication. I had the advantage of being busy in the warm up co-judging the ʻbest turned outʼ class. Advantageous in that I was well out of the firing line but still able to keep an eye on things and jump in when
things got a little hot!

Judging The Best Turned Out. 

 Apart from the endless running about, it was so much fun to be part of the competition scene again — even if only on the ground. The big horse is literally chomping at the bit to get out and compete, but heʼs just between levels and Iʼm saving him for next season so we can really have a crack at it. I quickly tacked him up towards the end of the first day of competition to give him a chance to see some other horses as usually Iʼm riding on my own. Being 18 3, he was already a little overwhelming to ride in the warm up, but I probably made it harder when I bellowed at someone who thought it was a good idea to go for a canter across our newly seeded grass on the way back to the horseboxes. Needless to say, she performed a particularly quick transition back to walk. I then had my end of the warm up to myself as I think everyone was terrified I might explode again in their direction. (No explosions. Well, none that werenʼt deliberate.)

Both Boys are Frazzled!

IT Always Looks Like I'm Being Told Off.

This weeks training clinic has been a delight. He has been so willing about the work.
Everythingʼs established in his very large head, and now all we have to do is let his large
body catch up. Itʼs exciting to be working on things like passage and canter pirouettes. It
feeds into my gay childhood daydream of being a dancer. Officially now I can ponce about
and pass it off as work. In fact, at a clinic last year a very distinguished Olympic trainer as
a term of endearment gushed, “Oh Ivan, you look like a fairy up there.” How close to the
truth people can be!