Playing at Riding Aside

I’ve always been an English girlie.  Really can’t tell you why.  I’m the only horse-y person in my immediate family, & I can’t recall having been exposed to anything portraying Western riding in a negative light, or English in an idealized one… but for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to ride English.  Not just a slight preference, either, but a seething hatred for all things Western.  For the longest time, I didn’t even want any Breyer model horses who were pinto, ap-spotted, cream, or dun, because those were “Western” colours.

Similarly, I can’t tell you why I became interested in riding aside.  Possibly because I’m interested in medieval re-enactment & fantasy.  Possibly because I tend to be drawn to things that are out of the mainstream.  Possibly just because I happened across a cheap side saddle in an antique store when I was a teenager.

My side saddle is an interesting specimen.  When I bought it in the early 90’s, it was unused.  The proprietor said that it had been made specially for a lady in a side saddle club, modeled after an antique saddle.  As I recall, I paid $100 for it.

Luckily for 17 Year Old Me, my first horse was a saint.  The same weekend I bought the saddle, we were cantering down the trails in it.  We even did poles & barrels in it (just for fun, and at a less-than-competitive speed).   I found that sitting straight was pretty much a constant battle, but generally didn’t have a problem staying on or guiding my horse.

Alas, I sold my first horse.  I kept the side saddle, but it now bears the scars of being improperly stored for a number of years, as well as Young Me’s conviction that Murphy’s Oil Soap is a good thing for saddle leather.

Since I’ve gotten back into horses, I’ve wanted to get back into riding aside… but most everything I’ve read online has told me that my saddle is pretty much unfit for actual riding.  One might argue that I successfully rode in it quite a bit, but that was back when I was young & fit & made of rubber & the fear centers of my brain had yet to fully develop.  Lately, my side saddle has been relegated to a place of honour in my living room, where I occaisionally watch TV while sitting on it.

Now, for the first time in over a decade, I’ve brought my side saddle out of retirement.  I need it for our Hallowe’en costume, dammit!

Moon looks terribly thrilled with her new saddle.

Here she is, in all her glory!  In this pic, you can see one of the worst points of damage from improper care/storage: the underside of the skirt on this side are cracking & peeling off.  The skirt on the off side is fine, though, so I wonder if part of the problem was inappropriate leather used in her construction.  In any case, it’s just cosmetic.  Also note that I’ve solved the problem of the saddle’s lack of breakaway stirrup mechanism & my lack of a safety stirrup iron by employing the world’s oldest & nastiest stirrup leather!  If I should happen to fall, there is no way that I’ll be hung up in that stirrup w/o the leather breaking!  I might just be better off not using a stirrup at all.

Offside.  You can clearly see the front of the riser pad sticking out the front.  One of the cool things about this being a reproduction of an antique, rather than an actual antique, is that the seat is big enough for my fat ass, & the tree is wide enough for my fat ass horse, even with extra padding.  One complaint about “period” side saddles is that they slope dramatically upward toward the pommels.  Yup.  See how tippy this saddle is?  Now imagine how bad that would be if there weren’t a pad under it bolstering up the cantel.

So, Moon & I went for a spin around the barnyard.  Unfortunately, I still haven’t found a trained monkey, so I’ve got no pix of me riding.  Moon did fine.   I had an even more difficult time sitting straight than I remembered.  Turning right was surprisingly difficult.  I guess I’m not quite as reliant on just reins as I thought!    Within minutes, my right hip & knee were killing me.   Definitely not a saddle we’re going to be riding in regularly, but I think we’ll be okay for a dress rehearsal or two & the actual costume contest.

Ten minutes in this uncomfortable saddle has cemented one thing in my mind, though: I really need to save up for a decent side saddle!

Riding Trails & Dressing Up for Charity? Hellz Yeah!

The hack stable where I used to work is located inside a state park.   This particular park has miles of decently-maintained trails & a camping area with a barn & full bathroom.  It sees a pretty good amount of equestrian use.  For years, my fellow trail guides & I would gaze longingly after the “Day Riders”, wishing that we were out there having fun on horses of our own rather than working with someone else’s.   We probably looked a bit creepy, but always hoped that our staring & talking & sometimes pointing was taken for what it was: the equivalent of kids who have to stay home & do chores enviously watching the other kids playing with the Best Toys Ever.

The worst pangs of jealousy (at least for me) were always caused by the occaisional big event.  Look at all the happy people and their pretty horses!  What a great time they must be having!  It must be awesome to be them!  One event in particular pained me the most.  The last couple Hallowe’ens have brought a big benefit trail ride, complete with a costume contest!

I love Hallowe’en.  I love playing dress-up.  I’ve only had the opportunity to enter one costume class with a horse: my first horse was a grey, so we went as “Death on a Pale Horse”.  I whipped up a big, flowing black robe for myself, & donned my scariest skull makeup (my giant black velvet early-90’s freshly-ASTM-certified helmet did a great job making my “hood” float creepily above my head).  I’d spent a lot of time desensitizing my Arab to having my billowy robe flapping around her in the wind… but it never occurred to me that the other horses in the class might not have ever seen such a thing.  We won for “scariest costume”.

But I digress.  For two years I’ve watched this fantastical event unfold practically in my back yard, with no way to participate.  This year?  Oh, baby!  It is ON!

I’ve already designed one costume in my head, & scrapped it ’till next year (not enough money to buy the materials, not enough time to put it together).  Currently in the planning stages of Costume II (shouldn’t be terribly expensive, but does involve a bit of craftiness… and I have a bad habit of over-estimating my crafting abilities.  We’ll see how it goes).  I’ve got tentative transportation for Miss Bitchface arranged, with a couple of possibly back-up plans if that falls through.  Miraculously, this is all happening on a Sunday (I work on Saturdays, but have Sundays off).

::bounce::

Oh, did I mention that this is a benefit thing?  The whole event is being staged to raise money for Greater Orlando Children’s Miracle Network Hospitals.    Each rider has to donate at least $50 in order to participate.  I’ve already raised my minimum $50, but the charity is still way under their goal of $25,000… if anyone would like to sponsor me, you can do so here.  Or, hey… browse through the participants & sponsor somebody who hasn’t raised their $50, yet!  It’s all going to the same great cause.

Swedish Music Sunday!

In honour of Moon’s ancestry & my affinity for creepy doll people & nyckelharpa, I give you more Nordman!

Catty Girl is Catty.

Whenever I spend time around a group of equestriennes, I have two questions:  why do girls insist on wearing granny panties w/ breeches?  Visible panty lines are never appropriate.  And why wear half-chaps when you’re miles away from an actual horse?  Isn’t the whole reason that half-chaps exist is that they’re easy to put on & take off & therefore afford you the luxury of not walking around all day sweating in knee-high leather?  If you’re not going to take them off when you’re not riding, why not just trudge around in dress boots?

I Totally Cheated on My Horse Today.

I was invited to go riding with friends, & since I don’t have a trailer or a truck to pull it, I borrowed a horse.  “Mr. Princess” is allegedly half-Quarter Horse.   I don’t see anything even remotely Quarter-Horsey about him.   Maybe they meant that his great great grand-dam was half QH.

He is super cute & fun to ride… I lovelovelove the way Arabs feel like they’re on springs!

Only problem was that I rode him bareback.  Once upon a time, I was quite comfortable riding bareback.  Then I got old & out of shape & lost what little sense of balance I had to begin with.  It doesn’t help that I’m proportioned like a six foot tall midget (thanks, Dad! ;P ),  with relatively stubby little legs & a super long torso: not a shape that’s particularly conducive to staying on a horse.

It also didn’t help that Mr. Princess *might* be 14.2 standing on tip-toe.  I’ve never felt particularly comfy on horses less than 15 hands, unless they’re built like a brick bean oven.  Princess is no brick bean oven.  There was nothing under my leg below the knee… my leg was like horsehorsehorseOMG-I’ve-fallen-off-a-cliff!   I felt very precarious, indeed.

But hey… it’s not like I had far to fall!   And I actually managed to stay on (I say with a hint of pride, as though we weren’t just walking, with a tiny bit of slow trotting, the entire ride).  There were a couple of giggly close calls, though, when Princess decided to make more than a very gentle change of direction.

And then I very nearly dislocated my knee with the dismount.   I’m used to riding a 16 hand horse.   I wasn’t expecting the ground to be that close.

All in all, it was a great time.  I miss my friends.  I miss riding with other people.  I miss real trails.

You are Now Free to Leave the Air Conditioning.

Usually the month of September really pisses me off.   It’s such a tease!  I mean, you tend to think of September as being part of Fall, but here in FL it’s usually every bit as hot as August.

If today is any indication of the month to come, September is trying to win itself back into my good graces.  Temperatures in the low 80’s that actually felt like low 80’s (instead of 90’s that feel like 100’s), & a really nice breeze do a lot to improve my mood.

So for once I wasn’t irritated about having to work in the morning, because that meant that I was off by 3 & didn’t have to wait ’till dark to actually ride w/o having a heat stroke.

I tried to take things easy since Moon & I are both out of shape, but Moon kept telling me to stop being such a pussy.  When she was walking, she wanted to trot, & when she was trotting, she wanted to canter.  First time I corrected her after she broke into an unasked-for canter, she threw in a few cute little bucks just for good measure.  Really, though, not bad for a horse who hasn’t been worked in a month!

Behold!  The Donkey So Fat He Wears an Extra Butt Upon His Real Butt!  He lives down the street from Moon, with a pony almost as fat as he is & an average-sized horse.  I really wish his owner would fence off a nice sand lot for him & the pony to live on, or find them some tiny little grazing muzzles.  You know… before they explode.