Dec 8, 2013
Pine Hill is my favorite place to show and – probably not unrelated – the first such place Diane took me when we were dating. It is on gentle rolling hills in the country, has two rings, a cross country course, and a tractor. The stalls are up top, so approaching the ring is like descending the stadium stairs down to the playing field, a fan called into emergency duty like you always imagined.
Pine Hill for the Halloween Show is even more special. The weather is mild or mild-leaning and there is something in the air for the holidays. That “something” is legions of marauding mosquitos, loading up a winter hibernation, but it does lend to a supportive environment. Applause on entering the ring, applause on leaving the ring, applause on the arm and back of the neck if needed. Still, any break in the heat means Christmastime must be near, and such is the cycle of life, sometimes the feaster and sometimes the feastee.
If you figure that your horse is in the ring probably an aggregate of fifteen minutes, and you are at the show all day, then the remainder is free time to prepare, walk the grounds, pick up snacks and hang out with your friends. So it’s like most sporting events in that regard, and chilling at the barn is akin to hanging out in the dugout. Some are talking about the last event, some the event coming up, and a common theme – dinner plans for the evening. Is it BBQ or Mexican? It is Texas so there is no wrong answer as long as the question is posed correctly.
Diane tells me after years around horses, the scent of horse poo no longer bothers her. I’m not there yet, not even remotely. We are sitting in the barn chatting, and a noxious odor passes through, my eyes start watering, and no one else even blinks. I want to get up and perform a stall-to-stall search. Who did that? Who? Nickering all around, it is like a frat house.
I like to listen to the trainer review the trip after the horse and rider exit the ring, or even better, what they shout to the horse and rider when they are going. There is the in ring coaching and the out of ring coaching. I find that trainers sometimes use very specific language to describe sometime general, and general terms to describe sometime specific. “You can go just a bit faster, not a lot, just a bit faster.” I can see myself in the saddle saying, “Can you express that in a percentage please?” Probably the most frequent instruction shouted into the ring is “Right rein! Right rein!” so if you were trying to figure out the joystick controls for a horse, you might conclude pulling on the right rein makes them jump. That’s what I asked Diane before I ever got on a horse, what makes they start cantering, so I could avoid doing that. You don’t want to get up there and learn that fixing your britches makes them start bucking.
There is a cute new DSH entry at the show – Rhett’s Bluff – a first-timer with a dedicated marketing campaign. Virtually everyone who ever rode him turned out to see him go, and the bleachers were abuzz with tales of his road to the ring. He acquitted himself nicely over fences in the big ring, taking home a blue ribbon, a promising beginning to a budding career.
He was not the only DSH newbie slated for the weekend, but a costume malfunction kept me out of the costume class. It’s a shame because I think out “Bathorse and Robin” routine would have brought a different dynamic to a ring filled with painted ponies, bridle parties, and the squaw riders. The costume class began assembling after dark, descending from the barn, some dressed in blinking Christmas lights, wedding gowns, and top hats. It was quite the spectacle. I got some nice pictures.
Corgi Ranch, TX 