training

Top Ten List: Equine Books

/ Ashley Wingert / 4 Comments

Inspired by the idea of the ‘Top Ten’ in endurance, I’m presenting my Top Ten list of favorite equine-related, non-fiction books.

I’m a crazy bookworm who is an absolute research geek when it comes to topics I like.  (Pretty much anything relating to four hooves, a tail, and a whinnied greeting.  But my research shelves also contain tons of writing stuff, and a ton of cookbooks.  To further the eclecticism: An assortment containing everything from theatre to home decor books.  The only unifying theme among all of these is that they’re topics that are interesting to me.  Show me a math/chemistry/physics book and my eyes glaze over.)
My Top Ten Favorites
The Complete Guide to Endurance Riding and Competition, by Donna Synder-Smith
Though it was written quite a few years ago, much of the information is still relevant today and it’s my favorite go-to endurance guide.  I’ve been skimming through it as a refresher course with the thought in mind that one day, I am going to have to bring a new horse along in endurance.  I have several endurance-related books in my library, and I end up going through all of them, but this one ends up being the one most frequently grabbed.
Centered Riding, by Sally Swift
A timeless classic that should be on every bookshelf.  Even if you’re not interested in any kind of arena-based competition, this is a valuable resource as a book because it gets down to the functional basics of riding that are important no matter what your discipline.  I am constantly learning from it, even with close to 20 years spent in the saddle.
Conformation & Performance, by Nancy S. Loving, DVM, photos by Bob Langrish
This was actually one of my textbook (!) for an Equine Science class I took in college.  Best class ever…well, toss-up between that and a Theatre Movement class that involved stage combat…but the equine one turned out to be a little more relevant.  Warning: Once you read this book, you will never be able to look at a horse without finding fault in their conformation, and you start wondering if you’ll ever find a perfectly-conformed horse.  Hint: You won’t…it’s a matter of learning what conformation flaws you can live with and which are unacceptable.  The photography is a major part of the book, and makes it really easy to identify each conformation aspect that is being discussed.
Getting in TTouch, by Linda Tellington-Jones
This book fascinates me.  I absolutely love analyzing a horse based on their physical characteristics.  I’ve applied the principles in the book to enough horses that I’ve know to find it’s eerily accurate.  I love horse “psychology” for lack of a better word, knowing ‘how’ and ‘why’ a horse is going to react to something the way they do, and these kinds of books have gone a long way towards altering my perception of working with the horse and turning them into your partner, versus an automatronic sheep.
Arabian Legends, by Marian K. Carpenter
I am a lightweight, a complete novice, when it comes to bloodline research.  I know just enough to know what I like and what to avoid.  But bloodline history is fascinating to me.  Especially with Arabians.  They’re such an old breed, with so much history tied in to them, that just going through this book is an interesting read.

How Good Riders Get Good, Denny Emerson
A new addition to my bookshelf.  I started following Denny’s blog a few weeks ago, and very quickly ended up purchasing the book.  I’m only a little ways into it at this point, but already loving what I’m reading.  Not so much a technical manual as it is a mental strategy guide and examination of you as a person and how that translate into you as a rider.  He doesn’t pull punches, but lays out the facts, sometimes in ways that’ll make you cringe to yourself when you realize you’re guilty of doing exactly that thing.  But he also manages to do it in such a way that it never feels like a personal insult or attack, but rather a bald statement of fact and motivation to look for how to fix/change it.  Looking forward to finishing this book…and then re-reading it.
Ten Feet Tall, Still, by Julie Suhr
I must get Julie’s new book.  But until then…I love this book.  I love her writing style…she’s a fantastic storyteller and I love that she lets so much of who she is come through in this book.  It’s a memoir, not a technical manual…and yet, there is so much to learn from it.  It’s entertaining, and her description of riding Tevis has brought tears to my eyes on a number of occasions.
The Level Best for Your Horse, by Dale, Ron & Bob Myler
I am a certified bit geek.  I love collecting them…love figuring out whether they work or not…and this book really opened my eyes.  I learned things about bits that I either didn’t know, or had a pretty drastic misconception of.  I will never stop learning or trying to further my education, and this book is one of those really good examples of why.  I also just love reading about all of the different options for bits and how they all work.  I could go broke just buying bits.
Correct Movement in Horses, by Gabrieke Rachen-Schoneich and Klaus Schoneich
I was introduced to this book at the Dr. Kerry Ridgway seminar I attended a couple of months ago.  Many of Dr. Ridgway’s principles of training and balancing of horses comes from this book.  This is a really good, even further in-depth explanation of the problem of “the crooked horse” and training solutions for how to go about solving it.  I’ve not had a chance to put the theories into practice yet, but I’m enjoying adding this knowledge to my repertoire.
Horse Owner’s Guide to Natural Hoof Care, by Jaime Jackson
My go-to resource when my original trimming mentor Kirt Lander is unavailable.  I like his approach to trimming and it’s written in such a way that I don’t feel too overwhelmed.  Most of my trimming is done by instinct or feel…which is why I can’t teach other people how to trim…but of late, I’ve been wanting to expand my technical knowledge of barefoot a lot more.  (I think I want to get my hands on the Pete Ramey DVDs at some point.)
It was actually kind of hard to narrow it down to even ten…I’ve got another half dozen or so that I really like.  Decisions, decisions.  And I think I might continue this Top Ten list trend, just moving around to various topics.

A Bit of Knowledge

/ Ashley Wingert / 21 Comments

(I can go ridiculously crazy with the “bit” puns…humor me.)

I’ve had my equine knowledge world turned on its head a little bit over the last week or so.  I got a copy of “The Level Best for Your Horse”, the book Myler Bits puts out as an in-depth explanation of their different mouthpieces and how they work.

Having ridden for the last 19 years, I was feeling pretty smug and secure in my knowledge of bits and how they work, and all my tidy little theories of why they didn’t work for Mimi, and what was happening when they did.

And then I read the book.  (And have been watching parts of the accompanying DVD…but it’s like 85 minutes long, so haven’t had the patience to sit down and watch the whole thing.)

Eye opener!

I was basing all my theories on years of riding with regular bits and what I knew about how Myler bits were different…so they weren’t entirely incorrect.  But neither did they translate over into exactly how the Mylers are supposed to work effectively.

My base assumption, working with the “Levels” system Myler does: Level 1, 2, 2-3, and 3, was that lower=kinder, and therefore the “strongest” bit I own is a level 2, and I ditched the one level 2-3 I had years ago.

Turns out that one I ditched is probably the one I need now.

The whole Myler system revolves around the concept of tongue relief.  As you go up in Levels as your horse has better training, the tongue relief increases and the bit employs other pressure points for communication.  What was surprisingly to me was the Myler’s opinion that few horses need to spend much time in a Level 1 bit, and most will quickly advance to not needing the tongue pressure.

That might explain why Mimi fusses at bits…virtually all of mine are Level 1.  *sigh*

Level 2 bits start to offer tongue relief, and Level 2-3 seem to be the best compromise between tongue relief and control, since you give up a little control when you start providing tongue relief.  But the theory goes that by that point, the horse is well-trained enough to listen to the other pressure points: lips, bars, poll and curb pressure, to not need the tongue pressure.

D’you see the irony in me getting rid of the Level 2-3 bit that I had?  It was the first Myler bit I bought, after years of traditional bits, and I followed the guidelines provided of what level to get based on the horse’s training.  Mimi was well-trained and appeared to fit into the Level 2-3 category perfectly…what I didn’t take into account was maybe I should have gotten her a lower level bit and transitioned her through the levels properly, so she could get comfortable with a bit for a change.

I don’t think I’ll ever try to move up to a full Level 3 bit…they’re designed for “finished” horses with no control issues…and let’s face it, unless you have the absolutely Most Perfect Horse on the Planet at rides who trolls along the trail with nary a murmur, at some point, especially during the always fun Ride Start, you’ll probably have to take up on your reins and the horse’s face for at least a modicum of control.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a truly loose-rein start.  We got to the point where we didn’t have shoulder-dislocating pulling, and that was enough for me, and after a couple of miles, she’d settle into a loose rein.

So it seems that a Level 2 or 2-3 is the best compromise, especially for an endurance bit.

After having my eyes opened by reading this book (I really can’t recommend it enough…if you have any interest in bits, it’s worth getting), I re-evaluated my bits, Mimi, and training.  And we went back to the drawing board.  I’m using the Level One MB02 Wide Barrel Comfort Snaffle mouthpiece with the Kimberwick cheek pieces.  (Myler has a saying: “The mouthpiece is for the horse, the cheekpiece is for the rider.”  I love the kimberwick and the options it gives.)  Instead of just relying on the “lip wrinkles” for fit, I pried open her lips to see where on the bars the bit was laying.  On her, a correct fit translates to barely one lip wrinkle.  I adjusted the curb chain correctly.

And in the last week, Mimi has accepted the bit.  We’ve done nothing but arena work, focusing on getting her to flex and bend and break at the poll.  She’s stopped fussing and leaning on the bit.  She’s softer and rounder and moving out.  Yesterday, I got the perfect huntseat English trot out of her…the epitome of breed standard “long, low and stretchy.”  It was beautiful.

I’ll wait and see if this remains a consistent thing, and if it does, I’ll look into bumping her up to the level she should be at, now that I’m taking the time to do it right.

It sometimes takes me a while, but I eventually get it.  ;)

bad pony

/ Ashley Wingert / 4 Comments

I think it’s safe to say spring is here, based solely on my pony’s behavior.  She was bad, bad, bad on Saturday.  Actually, I take that back.  The day started off somewhat inauspiciously when I went to collect her from the pasture and she wandered off to the far back corner.

She was actually pretty good under saddle, apart from offering the most half-a**ed, lazy canter ever.  And deliberately trying to bang my foot and/or stirrup into the railing several times.  And thinking that offering up several unasked-for flying lead changes might mean she finishes faster.

Sometimes I suspect I might have over-trained my pony, at least when it comes to anticipation and ringwork.

She was even good for working on her hooves afterwards.  After the past couple times of trimming, I’ve not been thrilled with her feet.  Nothing concrete I can pin down, just that they weren’t quite there.  I suspect I might have been getting a bit too enthusiastic with the bar and sole removal…again.  It’s a challenge, because her bars grow incredibly fast, and after her abscess a year and half ago, I’m paranoid about “stuff” getting trapped up in her sole again.

You’d think an abscess is the end of the world the way I keep going on about it.  But hey, give me a break.  That was the first abscess I’ve ever dealt with.

So this time, I took a very conservative, “If it can’t come off with nippers and a hoof pick, it’s staying in there” approach.  I also wonder too sometimes if I keep trimming her feet down to what I’m expecting they “should” be — Little Ms. Tiny Feet — instead of letting them grow and expand.  Because it wasn’t like she had excess flare to remove, or ridiculously high heels this time.

Once again, I forgot to take pics.  Fail.

But I was happier with how they looked this time.  A couple small chunks of loose sole came out with a nudge of the hoofpick, then I rasped her walls down, paying special attention to balance (I can balance better with a rasp than with nippers, I will say that) and putting a really good roll on her edges.

We’ll see what they look like in a week or so.

There’s always something to be learned about this hoof trimming thing, and just about the time you think you have it figured out, the horse goes and does something to change it up on you.

But onto the “Bad Pony” part: After we were all done, we wandered out into the trail course to do some groundwork.  I figured it would be fun to let her “play”: do a couple circles and hop over a low telephone pole.  She figured it would be more fun to eat.  That was Discussion One, which ended with me popping her in the butt with the end of the lead rope.

Not Happy.

Then we examined the pole.  Telephone pole, probably about a foot tall.  She could trip step over it in her sleep.  Examined it from both sides, then asked her to trot over it.  From one direction, she hopped over it twice, looking pleased with herself.

Reversed directions, trotted at it, and right at the base of it, slammed on the brakes and moved to wheel away.  She was blocked by the fence on one side and me on the other, and she’s finally learned that the consequences of running into me are far greater than whatever she’s trying to avoid.

So she backed up, then tried to wheel away.  Didn’t get anywhere.  Made her go at it again.  Repeat.  Never mind this is something low enough for her to step over from a standstill.  Backed her away from the whole thing and asked her to circle around her.  She shook her head.  I swung the lead rope at her.  She backed up a bit, pinned her ears, then hopped up in a little baby-rear a couple of times.

Well.

This used to be her favorite trick as a defiant, attitudinal youngster……about 12 or 13 years ago.  She’s a bossy, dominant mare who really hates the “submission” game.  I rarely ask for full submission, mostly because I’m much more into an active partnership type of relationship in which both of us are committed to working together, versus one in which I control every second, every footfall, every thought.  Quite frankly, I want a horse with an independent mind and ability to think for themselves and make smart decisions. (“No, you idiot, you just tried to steer us over a cliff” comes to mind…)

But I won’t tolerate that kind of blatant disrespect.  When it comes right down to it, I am the herd leader and I will act on it.

So I popped her on the nose with the leadrope.  I don’t advocate aiming at the head in most situations…but she’s dominant enough to need an immediate I Mean Business wake-up call.  It worked: she moved away from me, did a couple of circles, then hopped over the log.

And we ended it there on a good note.

I was kind of shocked, and I think she was, too.  It’s been years since we’ve had that big of a disciplinary blow-up and subsequent schooling session.  Guess it just goes to show that horses aren’t static creatures who properly stay within the mold we try to craft them into.  And they’re all capable of reverting back to temporary “Problem Child” status.

And I think we’ll avoid doing too much inflammatory groundwork while it’s spring and she’s in a Mood.

Someone please remind me why I like mares.

Old Habits

/ Ashley Wingert / 2 Comments

Funny how some habits end up deeply ingrained.  Mimi and I have one of those, a carry-over from our show days.

When I was showing, I always wore spurs, for both English and Western.  Not because she was lazy, or because she needed “punishment,” but because it was one of those little things that differentiated “work time” from “play time.”  When the spurs were on, that meant “Buckle down and work.”  Rail work, schooling, things that required her to be “on” and performing.  No spurs meant we could both relax and enjoy: trail riding, gymkhana, casual play days.

Her responsiveness coupled with using spurs also meant I barely had to move my legs to ask for a gait change…always a plus when it came to equitation classes.

To this day, she still does her best arena work when I slip on a pair of spurs.  We can both work without them, but why make things that much more difficult?  Especially when it comes to arena work, something neither of us particularly love anymore.

Cruisin’

/ Ashley Wingert / 4 Comments

Today, I embraced the one superstition that I follow — that whatever you do on New Year’s Day is what you’ll spend the rest of the year doing.  So I  listened to my favorite music while driving (which is pretty much an everyday given as it is, but whatever…), curled up with a good book, blogged, and of course…

Rode. My. Pony. 

One of the popular clinicians has a game/technique/training tool/exercise called “Cruising” that can be best summed up as putting the horse on auto-pilot.  As in, drop the reins, hang on, and let the horse go.  Only rule is that the horse has to keep going.  No reins, no controlling where they go.  Just hang on for the ride.

For a Type A control freak such as myself, doing this is akin to torture.  Not only that, but I spent my first formative year of horseback riding in a huntseat English environment, which is all about lots and lots of contact, especially rein, with the horse, and that losing that contact is a fast way for your butt and the dirt to get really familiar with each other.

Spending the last 15 years riding a pony that is not only very forward, but has also perfected the art of the “drop-n-spin” (damn Quarter Horse blood), has taught me to ride with pretty constant rein contact, so I have maybe half a second warning before she pulls a fast one.  (The theory being that where the head goes, the body follows…It hasn’t always worked…)

So to challenge myself, Mimi and I went Cruising for part of our workout.  On one hand, it was kind of easy.  Mimi has extensive arena training, and would be considered to be a push-button rail pony: get her going and she just tracks along the rail, making circle after circle.  It was easy to get into a rhythm and just hang on while she motored around.  Exhilarating, actually.  Liberating.  One hand on the saddle (let’s not be too daring here…’member that spin-n-drop?) one hand free.

(Watching the NFR [National Finals Rodeo] last month might also have shamed me into trying this, if the bareback and saddle bronc riders can stay on a bucking horse with one hand while the horse goes its own way.  Never mind that it’s only for 8 seconds and a good many of them don’t stay on…minor detail…)

On the other hand: Mimi’s a pony.  Which means right about the time I start getting a bit complacent, her new favorite I-want-to-hang-out-at-the-gate-and-not-work attitude wakes up, she realizes that she can go wherever she wants to, and half a second later, she’s made a sharp turn and a beeline for the gate.  Yeah, glad I was still holding onto the saddle at the point.  It didn’t get her anywhere, since the only rule is that they can’t stop.  We looked like a pinball machine for a bit there, bouncing around in the corner by the gate until the pony resigned herself to the fact that her antics weren’t getting her anywhere.

And then I had to take up the reins again because I can only give up that kind of control for so long.  But for the remainder of the time, I was much more conscious about how much I was using the reins, and made a concerted effort to focus on lighter contact.

I’ve always had fairly soft, quiet hands when I ride…they’re just controlling and reluctant to give up that release.  (This is another good reason to ride in a hackamore.)  I sort of hate to admit just how much I rely on my reins for control, balance and staying on…but I’ve had too many instances happen of where I lost my reins and then was totally sunk to be comfortable without that early-warning system that comes with constant contact.

Some days, hands-free lunge line school doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

But hey, knowing a problem/weakness/area to work on is half the battle, right?

Caveat/Disclaimer/Et Cetera: I did this in a controlled environment — a 180′ x 75′ sand arena surrounded by 3-rail pipe fence and closed gates.  I did this on a trustworthy, reliable, sane horse that I am familiar with.  I kept the exercise to a walk/trot for now.  It’s a good trust-building exercise, and great fun for the horse.  But I would be very reluctant to try this on a young horse who isn’t ready for this kind of freedom, especially at anything faster than a walk.  It could go to their heads and get them a little overexcited and overwhelmed.  No way I would try this in an open environment.  Just use common sense and good judgment when deciding whether or not you and your horse are ready to try this.