I was sceptical, but now admit that a BHS training course improves horse and rider By Caitriona Murphy Tuesday June 30 2009 Loose women on fast horses is how we were described by our instructor when she took us out to jump cross country fences. Having spent all of the previous day and the early morning being schooled to within an inch of our lives, getting out on the cross country was a relief for both me and my horse, Max. For us, this was much more familiar territory. Until then, we had been concentrating on flatwork, gridwork and such high-faluting notions as lateral yield and counter-canter. Pony camp for adults is how my friend, Emillie, and I described our trip away to our husband and fiancée respectively. Cue laughter and derision from both men for several days. However, the last laugh is on them because Emillie and I have just undergone four of the most intensive, educational and beneficial days of our lives at the British Horse Society (BHS) summer camp. My awareness of how I ride Max has quadrupled in that time. I can appreciate how much flatwork can improve both me and my horse, even though I would have previously derided it as a waste of time on a nine-year-old hunter. My attitude to flatwork before last week was something along the lines of you cant teach an old dog new tricks. It turns out you can. The BHS runs three summer camps each year, at Necarne in Co Fermanagh, Kildalton in Co Kilkenny and Gurteen, Co Tipperary. This year was the first time the BHS course was held at the Gurteen camp and what a success it was. The Teagasc college has every conceivable facility, from accommodation in the original farmhouse, an indoor arena, outdoor sand arena, horse walker and cross country course to rubber-matted stables and great food for both horse and rider. Did I mention there was an outdoor, heated swimming pool? Thirteen women and one man signed up for the camp, but, when the time came, it was just the women that arrived. Our ages ranged from 21 to mid-50s and our horses ranged from a rescue horse called Jilly, a cob named Reilly and a beautifully schooled showjumper, Cougar. Rider occupations included an accountant, a teacher, an insurance claims assessor, a microbiologist and, yours truly, a journalist. On arrival, we were greeted by Gurteens yard manager, Jayne Powell, and her staff, Vivienne and Timmy, who could not have been more welcoming. The horses were allocated stables, with straw bedding and haylage provided as part of the course. After settling the horses down for the night, we all gathered in Gurteen House to introduce ourselves, our horses and ambitions to the BHS instructors, Jillie Rogers and Gemma Ferrar. These have to be the most patient women I have ever met. Sitting in a conference room and taking turns to explain what we wanted to do over the course of the next few days, I was struck by the similarity with an AA meeting. "My name is Caitriona and my horse has a problem." For me, the big challenge would be to ride Max so that he was not so heavy on the forehand and to get him up off his nose and collected under me. Not an easy job after five years of hunting with his head down and weight forward. Certainly not an easy job for me, given that I had not had a riding lesson since I left pony club 11 years ago. Having set out our goals, we were introduced to the scales of training, a system that comes from German dressage training. The scales involve relaxation, rhythm, contact, impulsion, straightness and collection. Relaxation, rhythm and contact are part of the familiarisation phase, when a horse is encouraged to rediscover his natural balance when carrying a rider. He is encouraged to relax, to find his natural rhythm and to seek an elastic connection to the rider via the rein. The second phase is the development of the thrust from the hindquarters and takes in impulsion and straightness. The third phase develops the carrying power of the hind legs; collection. Perhaps aware that our eyes were glazing over slightly, instructor Jillie then dropped the bombshell: our final day at camp would involve a friendly dressage test and a similarly friendly showjumping event. That put the kibosh on any sleep I was hoping for that night. This was because a) I have not ridden a dressage test since I was about 13; b) my horse was unlikely to do anything that did not involve a pack of hounds; c) I dont think he had ever before even seen a course of coloured poles in an indoor arena. However, it turns out plenty of the other riders shared my horror at the thought of Sundays competitions and there is safety in numbers. We started each morning at 7.30am, staggering bleary-eyed out to the stables to feed the horses or, in my case, feed the horse, then spend ages trying to wash the mucky green and brown tinge off my impossibly dirty horse. Next it was our own breakfast. We trudged over to the Gurteen canteen, where we stuffed ourselves silly with cereal, juice and a fry-up, followed by toast and tea. Our group of 13 was divided into four for each lesson, meaning that there were rarely more than three or four people being taught at a time. We could choose between flatwork and jumping and decide which instructor we would like to teach us. I chose a mixture of flatwork, jumping and considered avoiding cross country altogether because I knew Max would be fine with that. However, I relented at the last minute and signed up for one cross country session, knowing that both he and I would enjoy a break from the gruelling flatwork lessons. I am thrilled that I did because I could feel a difference in how I rode cross country and Emillie told me she could see that Max was much more collected. Now, before I go any further, I have a confession. During our indoor jumping session, I fell off Max for only the second time ever in five years. Jillie had us doing gridwork, which involved jumping a cross pole, followed by a raised canter pole, then another cross pole and a second canter pole, followed by a small oxer. The aim was to get our line of approach straight and keep a nice rhythm down through the combination, concentrating on our position and correctly lining our horses up for each fence. I failed utterly, usually coming in at an angle to the first fence and, riding in unfamiliar short stirrups, was completely unbalanced down through the line. The end result was that I reached the final fence completely out of kilter and ended up going out the front door as we landed. Confession over. We rode two lessons each day, usually for an hour in the morning and up to two hours in the afternoon. We also had lectures from vet Aidan Finan, Red Millsnutritionist Nia OMalley and Trec organiser Gwen Bastion, and we watched a DVD on the horses anatomy. In the evening, once the horses were taken care of, we went for a swim and then out for meals in local restaurants, before gathering in the den of Gurteen House for hours of chatting, laughing and craic. By the time Sunday came around, the dreaded dressage test was looming large. Everyone had their own method for learning the test: two girls had swum the test in the pool the evening before, others walked it in the indoor arena, while Emillie and I jogged it in the yard, marking each letter with a stone wrapped in tissue. We would not have looked out of place in an asylum! I would love to say that Max and I had a fantastic dressage test but, unfortunately, that is not true and I was very disappointed with our score of 49pc. However, I know it was ridiculous to expect to reverse five years of riding in a few days. Here is one of the judges comments: "Shows promising paces but on forehead and running away in all paces, so lack of impulsion as hocks trail. Lack of submission, especially at transitions, as he resists. Well done but slow down. Use half-halts and this will help the movement and paces." After just a few days, I am officially a BHS convert and would heartily recommend the summer camp to anyone who has any desire to improve their riding. You will work hard but enjoy it more than I can say. - Caitriona Murphy |
