Moving Forward

   Well, after a very long time of not doing much with my horses, I've started up a schedule again. My plan is to ride (in the round pen) Miss B and Holly once a week (on different days). Two of the five days I won't be riding, I will just tack up, round pen, and lunge. The other three days, I will just grain them indoors, and hang with them outside, bonding, and showing them that I'm not all work and no play.
   This was decided today, after I found that not only is Holly still rideable (she has only been ridden about 10 times in her life, and the last time she was ridden was the end of August.), but she has actually improved since her last ride, not stayed the same, or gone backward as I'd imagined. Of course this could be due to my improved confidence from the Dressage lessons (which sadly are over now because of MASS amounts of snow), so I'm not afraid to ask for more out of Holly. More being changing direction across the round pen, asking her to stay on the outside, stopping, and backing up. You must realize that I have been terrified of riding this horse for forever, and so it is a big step for me to actually get on and do something. I have no more excuses  because Holly's ground work is impeccable, and there are no more areas to improve in.
    However, Miss B is showing her bad side. She is really making me work and step up my game in round penning, because I have to watch for all her challenges, and figure out how to respond. Just tonight, she refused to go clockwise while round penning. It took some creative thinking to get Miss B to do what I wanted while still being respectful to her, but I did it, and it paid off, as I got some huge bows and sighs from her.
   I'm sorry if some of my lingo is confusing to any readers (if there even are any), but those of you using Chris Irwin's methods will know what I'm talking about. You can let me know if you don't understand anything in the comments, and in the future I will work at being more descriptive.

The End of an Era

    When the news of Hickstead's death reached me, the first thing that came into my mind was denial. There was no way a great horse such as him could have an end such as it was. Hickstead was a horse that deserved another Olympic performance, a retiring ceremony, and many more years relaxing on a stud farm. But when I watch the video, the great horse sinking to the ground, carefully rolling as if to set Eric safely down, I realized there was no denying it. Hickstead's death had really happened, and there was nothing I nor any other could do to change it. After this realization, I felt numb, but with a slight stinging to it, like the feeling you get when you've just been slapped. The tears came, quickly and heavily, and then the memories.
    The first time I saw that amazing equine, he and Eric Lamaze were competing in the 2007 CN International at the Spruce Meadows Masters tournament. Even though I didn't know the pair, I liked them instantly. There was something about Hickstead, the way his internal fire was so strong that it just radiated out of him, and made him impossible to forget. He wasn't a big horse by showjumping standards, but when he was in the ring he seemed to grow a few inches, and I swear to God he sported invidible wings. Hickstead's name kept popping up in Canadian showjumping news, and I was so proud of him and Eric. Truthfilly, they were the first showjumping pair that I followed closely.

Eric Lamaze and Hickstead winning the CN International in 2007

    The second memory I have of Eric and Hickstead was when they qualified for the Bejing Olympics. I felt so smug because I had known in my heart for a long time that they would make it. Even when he and Eric won gold and silver for our country, I wasn't surprised. Proud and happy, yes, but not surprised, as I had know again that they would be successful.

Hickstead clearing the water jump at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing

   A few years passed, and I still looked forward to hearing about what Hickstead would do next. I had the amazing chance to visit Spruce Meadows in Calgary for their Masters Tournoment in 2010. There, my passion for all things horsey, expanded to include a much larger piece of showjumping. All of the horses were gorgeous and talented, but really there was only one I was crossing my fingers and toes in hope of meeting. When I finally saw him up close in the warm-up ring, I almost felt that I should kneel in reverence or something. But instead I just stood there, trembling in awe, taking in Hickstead raw and awesome power. Finally I was close to the horse who had truly inspired me. Unfortunatly, they did not win the CN International that year, as Eric was saving himself for WEG and trying not to rebreak his then injured foot, but they put on a great show, Hickstead clearing the massive oxer at the end of the course with room to spare.

A picture I took of Hickstead and Eric in the Cana Cup while I was at Spruce Meadows

    After my time at Spruce Meadows, I began following showjumping more, especially Hickstead and Eric. I rejoiced at their successes at WEG, and followed them across the tournaments in Europe, right up until he was back on home turf, at the Masters Tournament. Unfortunately I was not able to attend it, but I was glues to what I could see of it on CBC. I could barely watch the last round, when he tacked an extremely difficult course and, and completed it successfully, even while losing a shoe mid-round. I feel extremely blessed to have been able to witness Hickstead's last win on Canadian soil.

Hickstead and Eric at WEG in Kentucky, 2010

Eric cherishing his and Hickstead's final win on Canadian soil. 

Eric thanking Hickstead after their win at the CN International 2011

    Hickstead was a champion, through and though, and it was obvious, even from his unruly beginning. However, Eric found a way to channel Hickstead's greatness, and they became a partnership so great it is unlikely to see another one of that magnitude for a very long time. It has been said that for a rider there is only one horse, and for a horse there is only one rider, and this could not ring any truer than for Eric and Hickstead. They were made for each other, and Eric was just the right key to unlock all of Hickstead's potential.

    I am still reeling from the shock of what happened, but I am comforted by the fact that Hickstead achieved what I believe he was destined to. He became the best in the world, uniting a nation into hoping and praying for him in the Olympics, and inspired a lowly wannabe to reach out and make something of myself. Hickstead, no matter how much I am ridiculed for crying for you and told you were "just a horse", I will always know you were so much more than that. You changed my life. You were the best horse in the world, and you will forever live on in my heart and the hearts of many other Canadians who loved you just as much as I. So take those invisible wings and fly home, my boy.