Thursday, October 2, 2014

What a Picture is Worth

The other day I read an article about a lady who was swearing off “natural horsemanship.” She had the videos, the stick, the rope halter and the mecate reins. She’d made  her horse’s back sore backing up him wiggling the rope at him. His head would come up, back hollow, and voila, sore grumpy horse.

Head up? Back hollow? Don’t you know it’s not supposed to look like that? No, of course she didn’t. She was doing the best she could with the information she had at hand. She had no picture of what it should look like.

Back to Peter.

“If his head comes up, it’s because . . .” he trails off, looking around, wanting us to finish the sentence.

It’s because his FEET ARE NOT ATTACHED TO THE REINS, we chorus.

We’ve seen the picture. Peter asks Alice, or Jackie or Lollipop to perform a maneuver. Might be rolling over behind, could be bringing the front end through the other way. Might be Lollipop getting down cutting a frisky steer.

Lollipop

Their heads stay at wither level or slightly above. Alice might get a little stuck now and again, after all, Peter assures us she’s pretty green and has not had much riding. You’d not know it if he hadn’t told you.

“I have seen 160.000 horses in my lifetime.” He’s done the math for us, it’s a big number, but he started at age 10 and has been hitting the saddle hard for 40 years.

“I have seen maybe three or four horses that truly had a shoulder problem. The rest, all hindquarter. Couldn’t move the hind out of the way so the front gets stuck or falls in and people think it’s a shoulder problem. It’s not.”

I trained horses a lot of my lifetime. When I got smart enough to know what heavy in the forehand meant, I realized mine were. All of them. I went to work, moving the shoulder, lightening the forehand, backing them off the bit, I tried a thousand things. Heavy in the forehand.

It’s the hind.

I also ambush my horses like an outlaw robbing a train out of a nearby bush.

“You don’t back your horse up.” Peter. “You get them READY to back up. You don’t turn your horse around, you get him ready to turn around. He will take care of the backing and the turning if you get him READY.”

Monday at work, I got ambushed. There was a miscommunication about process and while I was in the middle of getting it sorted out so I could go on with my job I got slammed upside the head. Someone in authority, in my face, way too close to me speaking way too loudly and would not listen to a thing I had to say.

All I could do to not get up, walk out, say something snotty in return. Lose my temper in a kind of way to educate that person what a really bad idea they were engaging in. Hadn’t even had my coffee yet.

How many times have I done that to my horse? To my husband, my kids, coworkers. Or you? Right in the middle of your processing, here I come with my advice . . . or demands.

So anyway, I behaved appropriately. Huge light bulb moment for me what that feels like. Maybe it will help me do better all the way around in the future.

Get them ready, give them time to process, let them work at the wrong thing if they have to and when they arrive at the right place, it will mean ever so much more. Knowing when to step in and offer some direction so your horse (yes, back to the horse but you fill in the blank for yourself) doesn’t flounder, get lost, scared and mad, that’s where the artistry comes in.

“Give yourself permission to learn.” Peter tells us. “Don’t punch yourself out for not being in a different place than what you are.”

Another light bulb moment. Permission to learn.

“Be happy with where you are at. It takes a lifetime to learn a lifetime.”

Me, and just about everybody I know are afraid of looking stupid. Of being clumsy and unhandy. I am clumsy and unhandy. It takes practice to get good with anything and once you’re good, you have to stay with it to keep growing.

I know people who don’t want to come ride with Peter because they are afraid they will get in there and look like idiots. Guess what, we are all afraid of that, and NOBODY does. The ones that get the closest to looking really bad are the know it all’s. They are mostly there to show why they don’t need to be, and we all know right away what we are looking at. Peter even tries to help that kind though it’s the most likely to blow up in his face.

The ones who want to learn, he will go to the wall for.

Day two. We begin Foundation class at 9 a.m. Many of us are also in Horsemanship 1. We are clear that Foundation is exactly that, building. H1 takes it to the next level. No foundation, no business in that class but we see it all the time.

People are struggling today in H1. Not because they aren’t paying attention or have not worked hard, but because they are learning new things and giving themselves permission to learn. We can see the picture when Peter does it but getting it working for ourselves is a whole another animal at the beginning.

We are riding in pairs, walking fast, walking slow. Backing half circles, forward a full circle. All that requires feel and planning. Peter changes partners around to get people paired up with who can help if they need and he and his wife, Trina, are in the mix as well.

It isn’t at all about just getting your horse to move forward or backward around the floor. It’s not DRAGGING them around, not accosting them with your rein, spur and also, not letting them pull on you either. The circles are to be clean and beautiful, without the horse pushing on or through your leg. There is a lot more to this than a person might think . . .

 

Trina Campbell

Trina

There are tons of gorgeous photos of this and other clinics on the Peter Campbell Facebook page. I don’t feel it’s my place to post other people’s photos but they are sure worth rolling over there to see.

We ride over an hour longer than the class is scheduled until every single one of us can perform the maneuvers. We are happy, our horses are relaxed. Everyone now has their own picture, of what they and their horse need, in order to lighten up and get a thing done.

The Arabian? He’s not pushing on the bit so much today, not hanging around waiting to get bumped.

Once in awhile, that long neck turns the wrong way, or I’ll ask him to step a way his feet are not ready to go. I watch his head come up when we stop, time after time. It’s not flying in the air, the feet are not dancing madly around in rebellion, it’s just not as 100% soft and smooth as I know we are within reach of . . . the elusive stop with the soft feel.

Three years I have been asking him for that, and finally it happens. The feet are enough attached to the reins that he doesn’t in any way run through the end of them. The room got a little brighter with my smile and it’s a big room.

I had the pleasure of riding with Bob, a young man I watched ride his first clinic a few years ago who has come a long long way. It was a blast getting to know someone I hadn’t spent much time with and we were both pretty pleased neither of us got fired from the partnership.

Day 1, Peter told me not once, not twice but three different times to quit pulling on my horse. I would have told him and you, and myself that I really don’t pull on him all that much. Turns out, I do.

My goal for Day 2, stay out of Royal’s way. Not to pull on him with both reins. Horse tells me I am doing better.

The ears waggle happily in front of me; parti-color mane swings smoothly with his long strides. I watch with amaze as he picks up the joy radiating down my reins, through my body and he moves lightly along. Slow is not as easy for he or I but we get into the feel of it and from feel, comes timing.

After H1 is Cattle Working. All three classes build upon another. We had things to do in Cattle Working as well and that day, we didn’t get off our horses til quarter after 7  that night.  Never let anyone say in my hearing you do not get your money’s worth when you ride with the Campbell’s. Peter is in it, first for the horse, then him and then you. You are lucky to make the cut. Or, at least, I am.

Day 2

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Life’s A Journey

Leaping, bounding, bouncing, running backwards and sidewise, I have gone through life in just about every direction but straight ahead until just here lately. Not much of a shock then that I would get partnered up with a horse who travels the same way.

Peter said to us several times over the past four days during his clinic at the Lancaster Event Center, Lincoln NE that our horses should operate like we are riding a cloud, no matter what we are doing. Move a foot here, there, it should follow the slack in the rope without resistance or move off the leg because it’s there and you ask it to.

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Peter is showing us some things with his lovely Alice, a little gray mare he says is green green. We all wish we had our broke horses looking like her.

 

 

 

Peter and Alice

 

Portrait of Peter & Alice

These gorgeous photos are courtesy of Karen Johnson. We have the great fortune of having several very talented photographers as fellow riders. Lucky us!

She hangs up just a smidge, has her nose turned the wrong way just a little to the outside of what Peter wants her to do.

“Just wait here” he says. “Let her work at a little. Some folks might bump on her here but she doesn’t need that.” And sure enough, a couple seconds pass, she comes off her own pressure, shapes up beautifully and completes the maneuver.

During one of our morning warm ups before Foundation begins, I am asking Royal to walk around me to the right (only 54 years old, I am starting to figure out which way is right and which way is left). He’s always stiffer that way for whatever reason.

True to form, instead of all four feet reaching equal, his neck is a little bent the wrong way, his rib cage is in and his nose is out. I feel the tension pick up on the lead.  I bump, get off that. Bump again. He bumps back and we discuss for a moment how things ought to be.

Wait . . . WHAT?? Yes. I’ll be darned. I did that. I always do that. Okay, bud, let’s try that again. It hasn’t changed in four years so let’s see what happens if I keep my brains in my hands and do something different.

To the right. Sure enough, here comes the awkward inside out bend. I step back (yep, back) just a little. I hold but move my feet so I don’t get out of position and mess him up that way. He bounces his nose a little (pretty sure looking for the bump that has always been there from me, that’s my part of the disharmony). I just hold, wait.

It takes a bit because he is confused. I am not singing my part in a way that he can automatically fall into his. Eventually the nose softens my way, the body rounds out, his strides reach equally under him.  I ask him to drift his hind and it takes a second. He hangs a little on the halter rope, probably awaiting my answering bump. It doesn’t happen and again, he softens, steps deep under himself. Perfect.

You might have no idea how big that was, that part right there.

We work it some more. I pick up his tail and after doing first too much and then barely enough, I can send Royal into motion with a light ask from the end of it.

All four reaching equal

( I got no end of grief for wearing those light colored breeches. Someone thought I was taking riding nekkid just a little too far . . . nah, hate chafing!)

I won’t tell you Royal and I floated around like cloud nine the ENTIRE time but I will tell you, we had some. We got a taste and we both LOVED it.

Rolling down the rail a different day, picking up a brisk walk (how fast can you walk your horse, EASY now) Royal’s neck is arched lightly in front of me. His mane swings in time with his businesslike bob as he moves right out. I see something I have never witnessed in my horse in our years together. His ears waggle happily in time with the beat.

So relaxed and at ease.

Pick up your left rein, tip his nose to the left, step the hind a quarter turn.

It’s not perfectly smooth but it happens pretty neat. I resist the impulse to bump him back off the bit when I meet a little resistance. That habit lies DEEP in me as do so many. I hold that left rein and let him find his way off the pressure. No fussing, no argument. It makes sense to him.

Back them up using both reins with FEEL. One smooth fluid motion.

We do this, first out in the middle as it was a big class but when we got a little lost (I would have once thought we were doing great) we found the rail and let it help us get straight and smooth.

We stand and breathe. Royal is completely relaxed. I can hear soft footfalls all around me. There is an air of peace. I never tell other people’s stories, not my place but this time I really want to, so many people were trying so hard and things were already falling into place. Peter’s work is not in vain.

Clinic photo

 

Royal and I, 2012

Royal and I

ArabianWorst ride of our lives, 2011 or 12. Doesn’t matter he looked like this both of those years.

Us.  So nice to have him finally let down and stay that way.Relaxed Royal day twoDay 1 Foundation