Wednesday, 16 May
Today's lesson had a novelty to it, I rode the new horse - Pampilho! He is a cute young horse, very pretty, even if he is quite short and bulky. His neck seems to start halfway along his back, being large but very short. When riding him it feels like you could do without the reins and simply grab the snaffle's rings - they are that close!
He is still a little nervous of people around his stall, just like Lezíria was when she arrived at the school. Over a couple of months Lezíria settled down nicely and has developed to be a nice school horse, sure Pampilho will also do so with time.
Getting him bridled and saddled didn't pose a problem. As long as you approach him slowly, and take the time to assure him, he is very sweet.
I led him to the arena, checked tack and mounted. He was slightly fidgety, but he stood there until I asked him otherwise. As soon as I - oh so slightly - nudged him forward he simply jumped into an energetic walk. Another soft nudge had him exploding into trot. It became obvious that my difficulty over the lesson would be to calm and slow him down. He trotted as if there was no tomorrow. When the trot became too unpleasant to sit I started to post... relieved of the bumping sack of bones in his back, he went even faster. When faced with a horse in front going slower he would act like one of those irresponsible drivers, getting really close looking for an opening and trying to overtake left or right. While we were still getting ready I decided to try a bit of canter. The transition wasn't! One moment we were trotting, the other he was cantering and my head felt like it had been left behind, cartoon like. The canter itself was wonderful, it felt like riding a pillow! Almost no vertical motion and very smooth overall action.
The lesson can only be described as half-halt galore. Every stride, half-halt! Keeping him calm and slowing him down without yanking on the reins needed a lot of concentration from me. But I did find that I improved much along the lesson.
Pampilho does have the unpleasant habit of throwing his head back. That didn't bother me much, and in fact, was a very good reminder to keep the back straight and shoulders back. Considering his short neck, if you happened to be forward when he'd throw his head, you'd end up with a bloody nose.
He was very easy to direct, a little play with the reins and a bit of pressure from the legs and he went wherever I wanted him to.
There was one interesting moment in the lesson. Francisco had told us to take our feet out of the stirrups (which, as usual, had made me very glad) and do some trot work. That had gone just fine and then Francisco told us to get into canter. There I was, having the time of my life, cantering without the hindrance of stirrups in such a comfortable ride, when a little thought started to nag me from the back of my mind. Seldom do we canter without stirrups and when we do, Francisco usually gives a short encouraging speech to motivate those (definitely not me!) that don't like to work without them. I thought it strange that this time he had said nothing. I checked the other riders and, sure enough, all had their feet on the stirrups. I had been the one to missed the request to put them back! Because I had them crossed over Pampilho's withers I had to leave for the centre and stop before I could put them to use, which was a little awkward. Talk about selective hearing!
Unfortunately the lesson also had a darker moment. A little later, when again we were cantering, Pampilho was trying to race after the next horse and I was having a hard time calming him. He was a little excited and going too fast and tight at the corners. At some point that caused me to lose my balance a little (lets just say that my independent seat became a little too independent... from the horse). I managed to regain balance and stay on board without undue difficulty, and everything would have been fine if Pampilho hadn't decided to toss his head in the worse possible moment. Because of my weak seat his tossing was met by unforgiving hands (and a lot of my weight) so that, unintentionally, I gave him a harsh punch in the mouth!
From that moment on, canter transitions were difficult, as Pampilho no longer trusted me with cantering... I insisted with him only just enough to get through the lesson, knowing very well that it was all my fault.
Pedro Fortunato
Lisbon, Portugal
Today's lesson had a novelty to it, I rode the new horse - Pampilho! He is a cute young horse, very pretty, even if he is quite short and bulky. His neck seems to start halfway along his back, being large but very short. When riding him it feels like you could do without the reins and simply grab the snaffle's rings - they are that close!
He is still a little nervous of people around his stall, just like Lezíria was when she arrived at the school. Over a couple of months Lezíria settled down nicely and has developed to be a nice school horse, sure Pampilho will also do so with time.
Getting him bridled and saddled didn't pose a problem. As long as you approach him slowly, and take the time to assure him, he is very sweet.
I led him to the arena, checked tack and mounted. He was slightly fidgety, but he stood there until I asked him otherwise. As soon as I - oh so slightly - nudged him forward he simply jumped into an energetic walk. Another soft nudge had him exploding into trot. It became obvious that my difficulty over the lesson would be to calm and slow him down. He trotted as if there was no tomorrow. When the trot became too unpleasant to sit I started to post... relieved of the bumping sack of bones in his back, he went even faster. When faced with a horse in front going slower he would act like one of those irresponsible drivers, getting really close looking for an opening and trying to overtake left or right. While we were still getting ready I decided to try a bit of canter. The transition wasn't! One moment we were trotting, the other he was cantering and my head felt like it had been left behind, cartoon like. The canter itself was wonderful, it felt like riding a pillow! Almost no vertical motion and very smooth overall action.
The lesson can only be described as half-halt galore. Every stride, half-halt! Keeping him calm and slowing him down without yanking on the reins needed a lot of concentration from me. But I did find that I improved much along the lesson.
Pampilho does have the unpleasant habit of throwing his head back. That didn't bother me much, and in fact, was a very good reminder to keep the back straight and shoulders back. Considering his short neck, if you happened to be forward when he'd throw his head, you'd end up with a bloody nose.
He was very easy to direct, a little play with the reins and a bit of pressure from the legs and he went wherever I wanted him to.
There was one interesting moment in the lesson. Francisco had told us to take our feet out of the stirrups (which, as usual, had made me very glad) and do some trot work. That had gone just fine and then Francisco told us to get into canter. There I was, having the time of my life, cantering without the hindrance of stirrups in such a comfortable ride, when a little thought started to nag me from the back of my mind. Seldom do we canter without stirrups and when we do, Francisco usually gives a short encouraging speech to motivate those (definitely not me!) that don't like to work without them. I thought it strange that this time he had said nothing. I checked the other riders and, sure enough, all had their feet on the stirrups. I had been the one to missed the request to put them back! Because I had them crossed over Pampilho's withers I had to leave for the centre and stop before I could put them to use, which was a little awkward. Talk about selective hearing!
Unfortunately the lesson also had a darker moment. A little later, when again we were cantering, Pampilho was trying to race after the next horse and I was having a hard time calming him. He was a little excited and going too fast and tight at the corners. At some point that caused me to lose my balance a little (lets just say that my independent seat became a little too independent... from the horse). I managed to regain balance and stay on board without undue difficulty, and everything would have been fine if Pampilho hadn't decided to toss his head in the worse possible moment. Because of my weak seat his tossing was met by unforgiving hands (and a lot of my weight) so that, unintentionally, I gave him a harsh punch in the mouth
!From that moment on, canter transitions were difficult, as Pampilho no longer trusted me with cantering...
I insisted with him only just enough to get through the lesson, knowing very well that it was all my fault.Pedro Fortunato
Lisbon, Portugal