Throwback: First jump
It's ironic, jumping was the part of horseback riding that I missed the most when I wasn't riding.
But as a teen, when I rode all the time. Jumping was what I used to dread practicing. And when I was first learning, I found it terrifying.
The fright factor may have had something to do with the fact that might first jumping experience was less than ideal. When I was about 10 years old, I was riding a pony (yes, I know that was my first mistake) named Sassy. It was bareback day at Horseback riding camp. So there I was sitting up on Sassy, bare back with nothing but a halter and some clip on reins. The teenager that was "instructing" us would lead Sassy around the arena and then another kid would get on. Other, older riders, were practicing trot poles and little cross jumps in the center area of the arena while we took Sassy along the rail. When it was my turn, the teen instructor's phone started ringing. She looked at me, decided I was one of the bigger kids and had been to camp a few times and told me to take Sassy along the rail on my own while she took a call. So I got a leg up, and off I went. Everything was great fun until Pecos Bill, a studly gelding with a bad attitude, refused a jump, promptly reared and tossed his rider right at Sassy. Everything after that seemed to happen at once. The rider landed near Sassy's hind end and Sassy burst out into full speed. I tried to whoa her, but her fear meant more to her than the wimpy rope halter pressure my 10 year old arms could apply. I dug my hands into her mane and held on. Still trying to get her to stop. The teen instructor ran back into the arena and tried to get in front of Sassy to catch her. Sassy veered around her into the center area and right over a crossed poled jump at a full fledged gallop. I nearly came unseated upon landing. My 10 year old brain finally remembered how to stop, and pulled hard to one side, forcing Sassy into a tight turn. She slowed, and then stopped momentarily. Everyone seemed equal parts relieved and impressed that I hadn't fallen off. But for my part, I wasn't sure I like jumping much after that.
I didn't get back to jumping again until I was 14 years old. So 4 years after the incident with Sassy. And the whole concept made me nervous for a while. I would try to think of excuses to get out of it. I didn't want to admit to my trainer that I was scared. But when I did, he took it back to square one. He kept me on solid horses that would provide a good experience and foundation for me to rebuild my confidence. Slowly, I felt better about it. Even enjoying myself. By the time I was 17, I was showing a little bit. And now, jumping is all I want to do. I'm not even that great at it, and need years more practice to be where I'd like, but I'll get there one day.
But as a teen, when I rode all the time. Jumping was what I used to dread practicing. And when I was first learning, I found it terrifying.
The fright factor may have had something to do with the fact that might first jumping experience was less than ideal. When I was about 10 years old, I was riding a pony (yes, I know that was my first mistake) named Sassy. It was bareback day at Horseback riding camp. So there I was sitting up on Sassy, bare back with nothing but a halter and some clip on reins. The teenager that was "instructing" us would lead Sassy around the arena and then another kid would get on. Other, older riders, were practicing trot poles and little cross jumps in the center area of the arena while we took Sassy along the rail. When it was my turn, the teen instructor's phone started ringing. She looked at me, decided I was one of the bigger kids and had been to camp a few times and told me to take Sassy along the rail on my own while she took a call. So I got a leg up, and off I went. Everything was great fun until Pecos Bill, a studly gelding with a bad attitude, refused a jump, promptly reared and tossed his rider right at Sassy. Everything after that seemed to happen at once. The rider landed near Sassy's hind end and Sassy burst out into full speed. I tried to whoa her, but her fear meant more to her than the wimpy rope halter pressure my 10 year old arms could apply. I dug my hands into her mane and held on. Still trying to get her to stop. The teen instructor ran back into the arena and tried to get in front of Sassy to catch her. Sassy veered around her into the center area and right over a crossed poled jump at a full fledged gallop. I nearly came unseated upon landing. My 10 year old brain finally remembered how to stop, and pulled hard to one side, forcing Sassy into a tight turn. She slowed, and then stopped momentarily. Everyone seemed equal parts relieved and impressed that I hadn't fallen off. But for my part, I wasn't sure I like jumping much after that.
I didn't get back to jumping again until I was 14 years old. So 4 years after the incident with Sassy. And the whole concept made me nervous for a while. I would try to think of excuses to get out of it. I didn't want to admit to my trainer that I was scared. But when I did, he took it back to square one. He kept me on solid horses that would provide a good experience and foundation for me to rebuild my confidence. Slowly, I felt better about it. Even enjoying myself. By the time I was 17, I was showing a little bit. And now, jumping is all I want to do. I'm not even that great at it, and need years more practice to be where I'd like, but I'll get there one day.
Bareback riding is a much better experience for me now :)
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