Readers, I planned to write this blog in some sort of chronological order. But then as they say, best laid plans of mice and men… I will return to my original plan, but am just compelled to write about recent events.

Recent events that may, i’m afraid shatter the illusion that riding is all about hard work and determination.  That definitely plays a large part, but also, especially as a hobby rider,  having a ‘tool’ that works with you and you can work with, is as important as all the hours spent training, riding and competing.

Now the next bit ( no pun intended) may seem a bit horsey, but please stay with me, as with anything in life, the quick fix, the free lunch, and any other relevant platitude, does not always, in the long term yield the desired results.

Here, as they say, is the technical bit… for about seven days i’d been riding Jay in a KK ultra universal bit, commonly known as a ‘gag’ but doesn’t universal bit sound so much nicer? He’d been going like a dream in it on the flat, and by that, for the non horsey readers, I mean that I can get him looking really smart and really soft, with no more than a little bit of leg action and the odd twiddle of the reins.  This seemed like a revelation compared to my previous bit, which felt like I had to go ten rounds with the equivalent of a 650kg Mike Tyson, and that’s, surely enough to make anyone’s eyes water.

So far so good. I decided to try the new (and expensive) bit out in my jumping lesson.  The jumping was going well, and I was still thinking that I couldn’t believe that it had taken me over three years to discover this ‘wonder’ gadget. .

But pride, always comes before a fall, and in my case two falls… having jumped nicely round a course of I suppose a metre plus jumps, the anti was upped. And it was upped to my ‘waterloo’ which is trying to jump a straight line through two jumps at angles that my brain just can’t seem to compute a straight line through.

It reminded me of a similar ‘waterloo’ i’d encountered climbing, although since riding I realise that rock climbing is ‘easier’ in the sense that you only have one mind and body to control. But the ‘block’ was similar in that no matter how much my knowledge of physics told me that a rock boot with sticky rubber sole could hold my bodyweight at a certain angle on a sheer piece of rock, ( a move called smearing) my brain found it hard to accept..

I encountered a similar ‘block’ on my little Honda NSR (at that time a half power GP motorbike), when I realised that the weight of me, my bike, and in reality my whole existence, relied on a bit of rubber about the size of the palm of my hand, that was in contact with the road.

But in reality, smearing in rock climbing and banking on a bike are similar as they both rely on the physics, namely the angle of dangle and stickiness/softness of rubber.

But none of this prior knowledge helps me in my showjumping quest and the point of this post, which is,  I suppose that there are no shortcuts in life. I know this, and am irritated by the fact that for one or two glorious moments I thought I might be wrong.

Why did I think I was wrong? well, with the loveliest collected canter comes great responsibility. That beautiful canter generated by a stronger bit, means that tightening in panic, when faced with a difficult line is simply not an option. Otherwise you’re very likely to end up where I did tonight, which is on the floor,(twice) with sand in my knickers, eyes, teeth and bra.

So I’m back to the good old snaffle. which is disappointing, as I had a taste of feeling like a proper rider, which I admit was amazing, if short lived.

And you know what the real joke is? it’s this, that I can get Jay to go fantastically on the flat in the aforementioned universal  bit, but this is not dressage legal.

As I said in a previous post, I am not an advocate of authority and think there should be an ‘underclass’ of dressage that allows any type of bit, to allow the less than perfect rider some sense of achievement.

So, how does this post resonate with non riders, well, gadgets and quick fixes, whilst an attractive diversion, can never really hide the real issues.

Its a bit like the dutch boy with his finger in the dyke, you block one hole and another couple or more burst through, impromptu.

I thought writing a blog would be easy, just like three and half years ago I thought that learning to showjump just shy of forty years old would be easy.  As it turns out, I appear to be wrong on both accounts. So I hope you’ll stay with me for the ride as I blunder my way through modern technology, overcome the fear of putting fingers to the key board to keep you updated on battling the terror of entering a showjumping ring, surrounded by pony club belles, impossibly turned out on delightfully well behaved ponies. There’s no denying that the focus of this blog is undoubtedly ‘horse’, but  I hope that it resonates with anyone whose passion for their passion outstrips any natural ability. It is fair to say that riding has taken over my life and my bank balance. Occasionally, I find myself leafing longingly through the pages of the Boden catalogue, remembering a time when my money was spent on pretty tea dresses, linen trousers and funky footwear. The bulk of my money is still spent on shoes, but for Jay, my 16.3, three quarter Trakhener (German warmblood), copper coloured bundle of joy.  In fact approximately 800 of my hard earned pounds are spent each year on Jay’s footwear, which means that after three years of ownership I could be the proud owner of at least 6 new pairs of Jimmy Choo’s.  I probably would not have had such a large amount of ‘fun’ though.  As apparently, I ride for ‘fun’ and if the definition of fun is a perpetual roller coaster of ecstasy and depression, then yes, I guess it’s fun. So to the beginning of this madness.  I admit it, I made all the mistakes of a born again rider.  Following a stint riding a selection of wholly unsuitable nags, I had an insatiable desire to own another horse (it had been five years since I’d had to give up my other two).  The money was burning a hole in my pocket.  I scanned the horse and hound website daily, with no real idea what I was looking for, vaguely aware that I was choosing a horse, like I used to choose a man, looks first, temperament second, big bump back down to earth third. I wanted a warmblood about 16.1 hands high, that looked good, and I thought I’d found him up near Worcester.  In my mind I had purchased this horse, which was the first I’d viewed before I’d even got on his back.  He spooked his way round a small hack, seemed a little odd on the left rein, but more importantly was a shiny as a conker, had a pedigree as long as the M1 and looked great.  The deal was done, until the vets report who marked him down as 5/10 lame following a flexion test. Sense finally kicked in, and that was the end of my short relationship with Ben the Danish Warmblood. Back to the website, back to the chestnut described as ¾ Trakhener, ¼ thouroughbred, amusingly, it was the thoroughbred bit that put me off (I’d not heard of ‘tricky’ Trakheners at that time). Still, he was striking and close, so worth a visit.  Once again, he came out of the stable and I was sold, I was told that he bucked on hacks, told that he’d turned himself inside out leaving the warm up ring whilst eventing, but also told that he would show jump all day. I watched him clear 1.30m with ease, rode him in the longest canter you’ve ever seen in your life, tripped over cross pole and said ‘yes’. Got £500 knocked off the asking price and a very good deal on the saddle, which struck me as slightly odd as I’m far to British to be any good at bartering. Jay passed the vetting and arrived the next week.