USEA Area 1: Enabling Life Long Learning

When I opened the email congratulating me on my USEA Area 1 Scholarship, I squeed just a little bit. That February, I had moved to Strafford, VT, conveniently up the road from Denny Emerson.  My two young horses were a few months back into work after a five month hiatus, and I was grateful to be at Huntington Farm with an indoor.  Things had been progressing with Suki, my six year old OTTB mare, on the flat with the help of Deborah Dean-Smith, but starting back jumping had been, well, somewhat heart stopping for onlookers.  A line of rails on the ground had almost landed me out of the ring and onto Route 132 when Suki decided it was such a big deal to trot through that her best bronco impersonation was entirely necessary.
Clearly, I needed help.

When I applied for the USEA Area 1 Scholarship, I had to lay out how I wanted to spend the funds.  This was an easy choice for me, as my experiences with Denny Emerson in the past had been very rewarding.  I have always appreciated his desire to teach bigger concepts and his honesty.  As someone who enjoys the act of learning and discovery for its own sake, I knew that I could not only gain positive experiences from working with him, but I could learn concepts that I could apply to my other youngster and those to come.

Learning with young horses does not start when the instructor walks in the ring.  Depending on the horse, even hauling to a lesson can be a learning experience.  Lucky for me, Suki did remember how to haul, how to stand quietly to mount, and that is about where her memory stopped.  She was excited about being in a new place.  And there I was, in a ring that has always made me nervous, probably because I love to pile too much pressure on myself, trying to convince my mare there as no reason to be excited.  As Denny walked into the ring, he quickly assessed the situation.  He had me approach a tiny cross rail and Suki balled herself up and sprang over it, not exactly the picture of nonchalance.  He told me to walk and trot around while others jumped so she could get used to the atmosphere and we could play over small things at the end, but that it would not count as a lesson.  I was blown away by his generosity when he also gave me an invitation to bring her up to the farm a few times to just walk around and get used to her surroundings before having our first "real" lesson.

9" or 2'6"?
Atomic Mare isn't taking any chances.

We took Denny's advice, hauling up to the farm to hack around, and Suki was a bit calmer when we began our first lesson.  Lucky for me, it was quite a warm day so Denny emphasized using the heat to tire her out a bit.  She needed to learn to approach a jump calmly at the trot, hop over it, and calmly saunter off.  Anytime she was too excited, she "earned" more tiny fences until she was consistently casual.  That was her end of the bargain.  As an "intense" horse and rider pair, I had my end of the balance to work on.  I had to work very hard not to grab when she got quick as it accentuated her desire to get quick because of her anxiety about being trapped.  It was very hard for me to just let go.  However, by the end of the lesson, between repetition and heat, we had both knocked our level of anxiety down several pegs to end on a very positive note.


The horse I brought to the second lesson, though she looked exactly the same, behaved in an entirely different manner.  She was very relaxed, so we got to do a bit more.  After calmly hopping and plopping small fences in the ring, we introduced cross-country elements on the longe.  Though she had gone BN as a four year old, the refresher without any rider input was necessary to maintain her level of relaxation.  Denny determined she was a very sensitive horse and if I get at all tense, our collective level of intensity would leap upward.  She also was introduced to cows, which she was completely calm about.  Apparently, she had remembered that part of her experience roading hounds passed cows.  We jumped some more under saddle and ended on a very positive note.  My homework, my permanent homework, was to work on not internalizing all my worries.

Our third ride turned out to be a surprise cross country school.  Suki warmed up softly, jumping casually, and off we went with Denny on Cordi to go school cross-country.  We worked on jumping with terrain questions, something that I was not entirely comfortable with on her yet.  She has always had this momentous hind end that pushed the rest of her along with it, and I need to let go and be confident in her ability to balance herself.  Funny thing, she is much more able to balance herself without my nitpicking.  She was game to jump everything, including a cross rail in and out of the water.  I was pleased.  Denny told me my horse had given me a great wedding gift in that ride.  I suppose I should mention that this lesson was a few days before my wedding.  No one at Tamarack or at Huntington could figure out how I was riding, never mind jumping, right before my wedding.  But there I was because, quite honestly, it was the only thing I could do and feel like my head was screwed on straight.

The Flying Sausage!
(According to *someone*, my TB is "fat")

Our last scholarship enabled lesson was a group lesson with two women from Flatlands that were getting ready to go Beginner Novice at GMHA.  Suki showed up that day with her "A" game.  Denny discussed the importance of balance versus impulsion, some that is a very fine line to dance, particularly with a horse as sensitive as Suki about aids.  It is very easy to get enough impulsion with her, but sometimes hard to negotiate requests for balance without crossing the line into making her feel trapped.  We also worked on counting the rhythm for the canter, out loud, which helped me maintain a quality canter.  She is sensitive enough that the act of thinking about the canter I want with the rhythm I want, is generally enough to cause the subtle changes in my body required to get that canter, rather than over applying my aids.  We approached a set of barrels with a rail, and she approached it perfectly, jumping out of her skin over the top of it, and as I landed gasping because she damn near cracked me in the sternum, I heard Denny yelling to me, "Did you feel that?  Make her do that again!" as he ran for his camera.  And while I could not make her jump quite that big again, she was jumping miles from where she was just a few lessons before.

I did not stop riding with Denny after my scholarship ran out.  Suki has come even further since then, jumping gymnastics like a pro and channeling her intensity for good instead of drama.  And, somewhere in all of that, I have become a whole lot more comfortable riding her.  Its not so much that I have ever been uncomfortable with her antics, per say, but I have this overwhelming desire to not make a mistake that results in a complete lock up.  Denny helped me significantly with my want to be good by putting the situation in perspective: if I wanted to keep riding my mare, I needed to become the kind of rider she needed me to be.  I needed to stop trying to be so controlling and allow my horse a bit of independence.

What keeps me coming back to Denny for help with my youngsters is his demand that his students be students of riding, not in it for the quick fix or one magic exercise; but, diligent pupils that accept that "things take time."  He is so supportive of starting young horses right that he also allowed me to bring my four year old, Salt, over to school in the ring and, subsequently, was very patient when I tried to have my first lesson over fences on him.  When I say tried, I mean he was not quite ready for working around other horses, but he learned a great deal and ended up trotting boxes under saddle as well as school XC on the longe.  Next year, I hope to bring him to Denny's and continue our education.  But, until then, I will be slowly laying down the foundation for that endeavor to be successful.

I will never forget the day during Adult Camp many years ago, when I was struggling with my horse Spot, a OTTB that lived most of his life behind the vertical, and Denny told me that I really ought to keep him at BN instead of moving up.  Years later, having competed Spot Training under her tutelage, Sue Berrill told me that they were pretty sure I would not come back after getting that honest response, as many don't.  But, I did.  Why?  Because I will also never forget the story Denny told about riding being able plateaus and suddenly realizing that the one you are on now is much higher than the one you were on before.  That before you know it, you'll be a mile ahead, not by focusing on how dreadful things are now; but, by sticking it out and accepting all good things come in time, with hard work.  If you had told me during that first non-lesson lesson that my horse would be casually schooling gymnastics and jumping a novice sized oxer off a long approach when the windchill made it below freezing this fall, I would have stared at you in disbelief.  However, through the generosity of Area 1's scholarship program, the patience of a great teacher, and a lot of hard work, it happened.  I have found myself a mile further on my journey as a life long learner.