Lunge Lesson #2- Solving a bad ride

Learning When to Get Off the Horse

One of the most important lessons a rider can learn about horseback riding is when they should get off the horse. I repeatedly have to learn this lesson but I must say I think my judgement is improving. I am inherently a fighter that doesn't want to give up but my current circumstances have dictated that I learn to solve my riding problems from the ground. I regularly ride young horses with no one else at the farm. Although I generally ride within view of my neighbor's house, I recognize that every time I step in the stirrup I am taking my life (and the ability to raise my daughter) into my own hands. I never get on a horse without a helmet and I try to remember to get off the horse when a ride starts to go bad. Regardless of whether one rides alone, these are two very important rules of thumb that will hopefully keep me riding into old age.

The clinics I did with Buck Brannaman emphasized to me that 90% of the problems a rider has with a horse are visible from the groundwork. Buck is not a proponent of lunging but he is a proponent of looking at riding problems literally from the ground up. I now try to identify when something in my riding is hitting a wall and I step off the horse. I look to my groundwork to dissect and solve the problem- sometimes it involves groundwork exercises that are about directing the feet and sometimes it involves more traditional lunging. The point is that I try to avoid fighting horses from on their back. I have learned that most of my horse injuries were a result of a fight from on their back, and young horses seem to do better learning something new when they don't have you in "mountain lion position" trying to make them do something they are afraid of.

Phippen, aka Chicken Little

Phippen, one of my off-the-track thoroughbreds has one significant character flaw- he doesn't believe in himself. I know this sounds silly but I have come across a few horses like this and all of their problems seem to go back to a fundamental lack of belief in themselves and their ability to solve challenges. These horses often exhibit a sudden change of heart, are prone to panic or in a few cases are extremely disobedient- rearing, spinning, taking off. Phippen is not an extreme case and is definitely making huge progress but I come across things periodically in our training that unexpectedly overface him. I believe the way that I will teach him to have that confidence in himself is by identifying these moments and giving him a way to accomplish the challenge.

Today I came across a new challenge for Phippen- cantering in a 10-15 meter circle. It is my experience that 80% of all off-the-track thoroughbreds struggle with two handicaps from the track- they have mouths that have been taught to pull on the bit, and they have always balanced on their forehand. (Springstone's Crown Prince is the current barn exception to this.) Phippen, in addition to these typical handicaps, is a long gangly horse that at 5 years old has more leg than body. He has made huge improvements over the year but compressing his body and balancing onto his hindquarters for a smaller circle was almost more than he could bare. As I spiraled in on the circle from 20 meters to 15 meters, his neck went up, legs flaired in all directions and he began to throw his head violently in the air. He was never disobedient but clearly was on the verge. After several very unsuccessful smaller circles where he fought my contact, I decided that we were headed down the wrong path. I got off and walked back to the barn in search of my lunging equipment.

The Lunge Lesson- Turning at the canter

I grabbed a lunge line and lunge whip and I made one tack adjustment back at the barn. I put a standing martingale on Phippen. I adjusted it so that it was at moderate length- once attached to the noseband, it was just long enough for me to push the strap up along the underside of the neck and throat latch. I was careful not to make it too short because my goal was not to hold his head down, rather it was to give a resistance to any head throwing. As I gathered up my equipment, numerous groundwork opportunities arose. These are the little thing that are crucial to improving Phippen's overall coonfidence. For example, my standing martingale was in the trailer next to the fence. Phippen had to walk with me through a narrow space, deal with the trailer door flying open, back out of the narrow space, stand patiently while I readjusted the tack. All of these little moments were opportunities for him to confront issues and solve the challenge without panic. Handling the small stuff gives him confidence and helps him realize he can handle the bigger stuff, like challenging jumps or dressage questions.

In the roundpen, I attached the lungeline to the bit and trotted him on a normal sized circle. I asked for the canter and watched what happened as I began to make the circle smaller. As the circle became smaller, Phippen raised his head and neck to balance. He struggled with keeping his legs organized, swapped leads and floundered as he tried to figure out how to accomplish the task. I kept the circle just challenging enough in size, and allowed him to regroup and start over. The patience paid off. As he began to figure out his own balance (without the added weight of the rider) on the smaller circle he relaxed and kept his lead. Watching him on the lunge also helped me realize that I was asking for too much at once when I was riding him. His gangly conformation means that he is more legs than muscle, and he is really not strong enough yet to carry himself in a frame on the smaller circle. I saw on the lunge line that I needed to allow him to carry his head higher, poke his nose out, while he figured out how to shift his weight to his hind-end. By asking for the smaller circle and at the same time for him to be "on the bit" put him in a situation he felt was impossible to achieve and the reins were like a trap he had to fight.

After cantering both direction on the lunge with rhythm and consistency, I returned to riding. I asked for the canter and immediately let his head and neck go where it needed to go in order for him to keep the rhythm on a smaller circle. As we repeated the circles several times I could feel his mouth getting softer, his body getting more relaxed and he became more willing to try to adjust his body as I wanted. There were no perfect circles ready for a dressage test, but by the end of the ride both myself and Phippen were taking normal breaths, my arm muscles weren't throbbing and he was clearly willing to try the next question without panic or fear.

More Safety = More Confident

It has taken me a few years to learn to appreciate the training time off of the horse as much as the training time on the horse. And more than years, it has taken me a few horses. The number one lesson that I have learned from training horses is that they have to be confident in order to be safe. That goes for riders as well. And the best way to teach a horse confidence is by recognizing when a riding problem is escalating into a panicked, distressed horse (or rider); get off the horse and go do groundwork that allows you to analyze and address the issue. I am not suggesting that all riding problems can be fixed from the ground, but you would be amazed at the number that can. Also, no ride is worth your life and a slightly dangerous situation can become life-threatening when a horse panics. I have found as I have taken the time to address the horse's problems in a way that allows the horse to become more successful, they become problem solvers on their own. More importantly, they become a safer ride.