Every tack store has them somewhere, normally near the cash register where you are most likely to add an impulse buy to your order- and that is, socks.

Oh yes, this is a post about socks.

I’ve never quite understood the whole equestrian sock thing. What is different about these socks? Will they force my heel lower, and make me ride like Allison Springer? Will they fix my turned out toes when jumping? Will their oh-so-cute patterns make my horse believe I’m suddenly some kind of magickal being and not just a so-so adult amateur? I don’t think so.

Allison Springer. I love her.

When I’ve been given pairs of them (typically freebies coming with big purchases like new helmets or tall boots), I’ve found most of them of the slinky variety, and when wearing them with boots, feel like my foot slides around inside the footbed (though it really isn’t, just the sensation). Now I do realize that the slipperiness of the fabric would help with pull-on tall boots- but really, who has pull-on tall boots these days? All hail the zipper!

Which brings me to my next point- socks inside or outside the breeches?

I’m a creature of habit. When I was little, I wore jodphurs with the best of them- and when you wear jods, your socks go underneath, lest they be showing all the time. So when I graduated to tall boots, I kept it that way. Granted, my first set of tall boots were also zippered, but still- the habit went deep.

Once upon a time I was cute AF

Why is it that most people wear their socks on the outside of their breeches? Is this again a function of pull-on tall boots? Or did I go through puberty without learning some key lesson regarding footwear etiquette?

Or you know, no socks. Because water.

So in the spirit of silly Fridays and posts about socks.. chime in! Socks in or out? Special socks for riding? What’s your preferred way of padding your paws?

Horses are like potato chips – you can’t only have one. Or can you?

Right now I’m a single horse mother (for lack of another word), but that hasn’t always been the case. In high school I competed both Merry and Mac in eventing, and so had the responsibility of keeping both in shape, training, taking lessons, and generally keeping both in show-ready condition. It was frequently exhausting, but the completely different rides (Merry being hot, well schooled jumping, but prone to ultra sensitive antics, and Mac being quiet, but opinionated and green, as well as being a pony) kept things really interesting and exciting.

Merry going Novice @ The Fork

Mac

But for the last ten years, my attentions have always been dedicated to one horse at a time. This meant that my relationship with that horse was always a lot more close and my investment in the journey that much more.

Cuddles with Ivan

But there are times, like now, when having two horses doesn’t sound like that bad of an idea again. Having a second horse would allow me to continue an active riding career while I figured out what is going on with Foster. Foster on the other hand, would absolutely hate this scenario, as I learned how jealous he is when I was briefly riding Bob a while back. He’d nicker to me every time I walked away from his stall, watching and making pathetic noises while I groomed and worked with the other horse. It sounds silly, but Foster enjoys being a pampered single [horse] child.

Plenty of personality to go around

Of course having two horses is a logistical pipe dream for me anyways, financially and regarding time. But as I watch friends go through the adventures of working two horses, or seeking out their second steed, it does make you wonder.

What about you? Do you have one horse? Two horses? What do you feel is the right mix for you? If you have two (or more) horses, how do you handle the balance of attending to both/all? In a perfect world, what would you do?

Riding can be a deeply personal venture, and most of us make calculated decisions about who we train with and receive instruction from. Not only does training cost money, but there are many other factors that go into why we chose who critiques us formally. But what about your average non-lesson ride?

Next time someone yell at me to put my hands down!

I tend to ride after work, and after spending so much time at the barn, I have definitely come to befriend certain riders who also ride at the same time as I do, and I respect what they do with their horses. So for me, it becomes a no brainer to invite them to call me out on certain issues. For instance, if you see my elbows leave my sides, yell at me- please! If I’m approaching the fence with not enough energy, holler out! Very rarely does it hurt my feelings, and having an extra set of eyeballs if someone happens to notice something is a valuable training tool to me.

It helps to have someone tell you to strap on a pair and jump the damn thing sometimes, too!

Conversely, I also try to give feedback if I see a glaring issue someone is working through. For the most part I remember to ask if they even want my two cents, but after being in the habit of having a few friends where back-and-forth feedback is the norm, I admit that sometimes I forget. For the most part though, these fellow amateurs appreciate the opportunity to tweak an issue that maybe they didn’t catch.

Impromtu feedback is awesome, even if your friend is in jeans and sneakers

It definitely requires a mutual respect and an empathetic perspective in order to have this kind of relationship with other amateurs, but for me, it’s a big part of building the horse community. I could understand, though, if either personal relationships, skill levels, or  horsemanship were not optimal how this kind of rider-to-rider feedback would be unwelcome at best.

So I ask you all- do you provide or receive feedback from other riders? How has feedback of this type helped (or harmed) your riding? How do you approach starting this practice with new people?

It’s no secret that eventing is a sport that honors humility. But the collective equestrian world is also a community that knows what it’s like to experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, and champions those that can admit mistakes and come back stronger. I like to think that humor has a place in such a world, but maybe that’s just my own coping device for dealing with my own embarrassing moments.

We’ve discussed here on this blog plenty of times that I’ve done stupid things. Hell, if there’s visual proof, I’ll even make a gif out of it. But there’s plenty of stories in the archives that are worth sharing too. Today I’ll share with you my most embarrassing dressage story. Because, you know, it’s Tuesday and I haven’t made a fool of myself yet this week.

Fine, fine, I’ll share it again.

Let’s just run through some of the better dressage moments, and not even touch on those missed leads, or jigging through the free walk, or being told flying changes were not required in a Training level test (bonus points for flair and pizzazz? no?). I’ve been eliminated for not being able to get down centerline. I’ve almost gone off course in a test, with a reader. I’ve ridden a horse that literally screamed every 10 seconds through the entire test, and I’ve ridden a different horse to be told by the judge that I shouldn’t be riding that horse. And let’s not even talk about my ride at the National Intercollegiate Dressage competition. There are some things you just can’t forget.

Judge’s Comment: Movements not required at this level

No, my most embarrassing moment in a dressage court took place when I was a teenager. And I fell off. In a dressage ring. Off a pony.

If you don’t remember him from here or here, Mac was a young Haflinger stallion that I evented in high school. While he had a bit of snarkiness in him (pony + stallion – watch out!), dressage judges loved him. I remember, at a little schooling dressage show down the road, I was in the middle of a great Training (dressage) level ride on Mac when out of my peripheral vision I noticed a horse’s head bouncing along the top a hill. Funnily enough, Mac noticed it too, and threw a buck in his surprise and excitement.

Yup, pretty much like this

It must have caught me off guard, because the next thing I knew I was on the ground. And adding insult to injury (wait, reverse that), I had landed on one of the metal stakes holding the chain link dressage fence, which must have caused a temporary blackout because when I came to, my then-trainer was leaning over me, trying to straighten the stake which was now bent at a 90 degree angle from its encounter with my backside. While she was doing her best to fix the situation, she was hastily whispering to me to get back on the damned pony, and finish my test (remember this was a schooling show). I remounted, and then had to wait with my head hung in shame as my trainer and other volunteers attempted to mend the perimeter fencing. You know what’s worse than embarrassing and hurting yourself in front of strangers? Sitting in an arena waiting while those strangers can fix the thing your butt/back broke before you can recover from the incident.

Luckily I was not impaled

In the end I did finish my test, but mortification is about the only way I can describe my emotions. This just about beat out the moment I realized I had spent the afternoon walking around the mall with a 7 inch long rent up the backside of my pants. Well, just about. I’m told that as a teenager your humor gland isn’t always fully developed, so humor as a coping device didn’t happen until much later. But to this day, it is still my most embarrassing moment in a dressage ring. Thankfully, I like to think that means that there’s not much else I can do worse than fall off, which kind of takes the pressure off of being a DQ. Silver linings and all that.

What is your most embarrassing moment? How did you handle your slice of humble pie?

Let’s face it- most of us here in blog land are women, and for women, hair can be a statement. Whether that statement be polished and professional, casual and carefree, or “doesn’t give a damn”, it’s often something we think about.

Even in the utilitarian helmet-donning world of equestrianism (please wear helmets guys, k?), I’m going to guess you make some kind of decision about what to do with your mane before you ride.

For instance, I have a friend who wears hairnets for every ride, show or no show, audience or not. She insists it’s the way to go, but I just can’t imagine rocking the lunch-lady look at the barn.

There is a science to putting on hairnets

Or there’s the fabulous dressage rider at the barn who plaits her thick beautiful hair into a stylish braid before getting in the saddle.

For me, hair is a complicated thing. I have naturally curly hair, which means I have my own personal hygrometer sitting on my head. If it’s above 55/60% humidity, straight hair is a non-option.

Curly hair in action in London, because, you know, rain.

Curls on a tame day in Scotland

Because my hair au naturale is so much thicker than when straightened, it has an effect on my helmets. Too many rides with curls means that my normal helmet fits significantly looser with straight styles. So in the summer time, when curls are a given, I switch to an Ovation helmet that not only is more breathable than my IRH, but also is adjustable depending on how 90’s-Country-singer my hair is that day.

Sept. 2013 – Rockin the braid and Ovation helmet combo

Besides that, I usually end up braiding my hair, since I don’t care for the Daniel Boone look of a furry creature tail (aka poofy curly ponytail) draping my neck, and it’s fairly hot to boot. No matter what, helmet hair happens, and I always bring a hat with my to hide my post-ride tresses.

What do you do with your lovely locks when you ride? 

Do you have a type? I know I do. When I was horse hunting, I struggled finding a horse that fit my requirements. Foster is legitimately the only horse I was really interested in. Here was my list of requirements:

• A good brain. Hands down, the most important aspect to me was a willing and quiet participant that I could get along with even after the ride is over. Plus, IMO a quiet brain is a trainable brain.
• Have a kind eye No piggy expressions or jerk faces need apply. See above.
• 15.3 hh – 16.3 hh. I’m only 5’4″- I wanted something that wouldn’t make me terrified to ride up to a 3’3″ fence but also wasn’t too far from the ground.
• Built uphill Not only would an uphill conformation make dressage + jumping easier, but also provide some security to a girl with 10+ years experience riding draft crosses!

• Decent movement Need not be the next Totilas, but a little bit of suspension would be great.
• 4-9 years old This was on my list, as I wanted to be able to jump sooner rather than later. I ended up compromising on this one as Foster was advertised as a 3 yr old, which I believed until I had the dentist out (he was actually 4)
• Clean history History repeats itself, as they say- so I wanted to start out with a blank slate if at all possible
• Good jumper Another compromise when I bought Foster since (I thought) he was 3- no jumping yet, I judged his jumping ability by the way he moved
• Preferably a gelding Not the *most* important aspect, but I knew I got along better with geldings in general
• Be in my budget Champagne on a beer budget, anyone? I’ll take a glass of Andre, please.

It took me a solid 3 months of hourly scouring every horse sales site known to man before I found Foster’s ad on dreamhorse.com. Even though I ended up compromising the jumping and the age, he was the closest fit to my requirements. So I jumped in my car that weekend and ran up to Maryland, hopped aboard for a test ride, and the rest is history!

Foster as seen in his sales ad

What aspects of your horse led you to him/her? If you were to go horse-shopping tomorrow, what would your list look like?