Homecoming

When I got home from my trip to the Annual Arabian Horse Show in Scottsdale, the dogs jumped all over me and kissed my face. Since Midge has a cropped tail, it's really cute watching her wag it. I didn't know what the conditions would be like in the paddock, so I opted to see the horses in the morning. As I slept I started dreaming that I was visiting the horses, and then I was awakened by the sound of someone kicking his or her stall. I got up and went out to investigate.

As I walked down the RV lane, Bombay let out a squeal of delight. I ran up to him and he gave me a big hug with his horse head and neck. Then I ran over to Lostine and stroked her all over her face. Gabbrielle was waiting by her door for me. I went to her window and she spun around to plant a bunch of sloppy muzzle kisses all over my face. We had one big party at the barn with all our hugging and kissing and petting and squealing and neighing at 5:00 in the morning. All the lights came on next door, but I didn't care. I was happy to see my horses.

Stories from Arizona

Anytime you travel, even if it is just a few miles up the road, you notice differences in the way people behave. Visiting Arizona was interesting. Everyone was very friendly and helpful -- almost too friendly. It scared me a little bit. Everywhere I turned people were offering to help me, even when I didn't know I needed help. I'm a very independent person and don't expect people to insert themselves into my activities. Where I come from in Nevada, nobody has the spare time to help others.

When my daughter and I went to West World, a man driving a cart offered to shuttle us from the parking lot to the front entrance. I climbed onto the back of this cart since I wasn't sure how far away the entrance might be, and instantly regretted this decision as soon as the man stepped on the accelerator. I fell into my daughter, and frantically grabbed for the seat next to me. It was that equilibrium thing again. The ground was whipping past my feet, my stomach felt like it was about to explode, and I was getting dizzy. I almost yelled out, "Stop! Let me off!"

Internally, I was having a total panic attack. I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself. Fortunately, several people walked or drove in front of us, so the driver had to slow way down. By the time we reached the gate, I was shaking all over. Up until that point I had handled driving through the dark on an unlit highway, flying in a plane, riding on a bus shuttle, driving city freeways in a rental car, and getting totally lost on both foot and in car. Who knew a motorized cart would be my undoing?

My daughter has been on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride with me, so she's used to me practically sitting on her lap and clinging to her whenever we are in small, fast-moving vehicles.

From that point forward, anytime someone offered me a ride, I politely declined. They argued, and eventually I'd have to fess up about my err, ummm equilibrium problem. I'm sure some people would call it a mental problem, but this feels very physical to me.

I quickly learned not to show an interest in any vendor's booth. While attempting to read the menu at a food cart, the salesman became so obnoxious that he wouldn't let me finish reading the menu. He just kept yelling at me, "Come get a hot dog! Soda! Come get this or that..."

I shook my head no, and he said, "No? You don't eat?"

I just wanted him to shut up long enough so that I could finish reading the menu, but his aggression scared me off. There were several horse related booths where I might have purchased something, except the salespeople just wouldn't let me look. Everyone had this attitude that I must be looking for something in particular, and they wouldn't stop following me around asking questions so that I could just browse. When I feel overstimulated, my reaction is to run away. Several people blew some sales by talking to me while I was trying to think. If I can't complete a thought in the space where I'm at, it's time to move on to another space.

One night I had dinner in a bar. I'm not the type of person to hang out in bars, so it felt weird having this bartender giving me so much attention. I ordered the obligatory alcoholic beverage with my meal, knowing I didn't need to drive anywhere that night, but felt uncomfortable eating dinner in a bar while all these drunks around me were losing their inhibitions and saying embarrassing things. Thank goodness for the Olympics being on TV in the bar. It gave me a chance to watch something other than the people around me making a disaster of their lives.

When I found a supermarket to save some money on meals, there was a clerk stocking shelves on every aisle I turned down. The manager of that store obviously trained them to not let anyone pass without offering to help them find something. So, I'm not kidding you, just about every 20 seconds someone was offering to help me. I just wanted to browse. I was busy calculating how many meals I wanted to buy in order to avoid eating in restaurants. As soon as I'd get an idea of something that would make a good breakfast or lunch or dinner, someone would interrupt my thought process and offer to help. I didn't have a shopping list. I didn't know what I wanted, but I know better than to tell a salesperson that I don't know what I want, because next thing I know he will be doing my shopping for me without having any clue as to what my diet and tastes might be. So, I just kept repeatedly saying, "No, thank you."

The same guy offered to help me three times, and even went so far as to try to force me to buy a huge loaf of fresh-baked bread I didn't want. I guess most people aren't as sensitive about getting their space and time to think, like I am. I'm so overstimulated with my job that when I'm on vacation I want to rest and be left alone. That's hard to do when people are in your face all the time. So, I quickly grabbed a few food items and hurried back to my hotel where I could hibernate and rejuvenate like a good hermit.

I wanted to find something quiet to do since I had spent the previous two days doing a lot of driving. I chose to get a little sun out by the pool. It's been years since I've sunbathed or gone swimming. I had grabbed a swimsuit out of my drawer as an afterthought while packing for the trip, and hoped that it would still fit. It turned out to be a good move, as I was able to spend a few hours sunning, spa-ing, and swimming. It was heaven just floating on my back looking up at the palm trees while airplanes flew overhead.

For a while there were two young college-aged couples out by the pool and one of the men kept staring at me, which made me feel uncomfortable. I was so glad when he left, but he eventually reappeared on the balcony overlooking the pool, and each time I looked up, he was still staring at me. So, I went back to my room to hibernate again, and made a point of triple-locking the door. The hotel poolside was starting to feel a bit too much like my paddock back home with my nosy neighbors watching my every move.

On another morning my daughter and I stopped at a restaurant. Before I could even get out of the car, I was being asked for money by a panhandler. Then we went into the restaurant, and a lady approached us to ask for directions. We had to fess up that we don't live around there, so we can't help her. She just stared at us, and then continued to ask us for directions. I made a suggestion, and she argued with me, so I turned away. I just wanted to eat some breakfast. I didn't want to start off my morning arguing with a confused stranger. That restaurant was starting to feel a bit too much like my mailbox turnout back at home, where drivers always stop me to argue over directions, when all I want to do is pickup my mail and then get back to work.

While at the horse show, the announcer kept telling people to keep their hands and feet inside the arena, to be quiet, and to not run in the bleachers because it scares the horses. She had just finished making this announcement and a young boy behind me started swinging his legs against the metal bleachers making a loud banging noise. I looked around and his parents were nowhere to be found, so I shook my head at him and he stopped.

On another occasion a young boy and his toddler sister began slamming down the backs of seats in the bleachers. It was so loud that my eardrums felt like they were exploding. The girl was too young to understand anything I said, so I told the boy they have to stop, because they were scaring the horses. They didn't stop immediately, but continued playing with the seat backs, just more quietly. Eventually they settled down. I know how upsetting it is for someone to spend years training their horse, attending equitation lessons, and saving up their money to go to Scottsdale to compete, only to have their chances at the championship ruined because some irresponsible parent let his or her children run wild in the bleachers, spooking horses.

On my flight home, I was a little concerned when my pilot seemed to purposefully swerve the airplane back and forth up the runway on take off. I wondered if he was drunk. The ride was relaxing for the most part, then out of the blue the plane pitched sideways to the left, then sideways to the right, left again and right again. When I say sideways, I mean one wing was pointing at the ground. This was some scary shit. Two flight attendants walking down the aisle fell on top of each other. I had my seat belt on, but I fell forward at an angle and the lady beside me was confused as to whether to catch me to help the flight attendants. I almost threw up. Fortunately, the pilots got control of the plane and then came on over the intercom to explain that we had hit another plane's wake. We had to climb to a higher elevation to get out of it.

I didn't even get out of the Reno-Tahoe Airport without getting into a tangle with another driver. It was ridiculous. There were only two of us and four lanes, and this other driver would not let me change lanes so that I could get on the freeway. He just kept doing these crazy maneuvers like we were in some kind of a race and his life depended on getting ahead of me. All the way home, other drivers taunted me and made incredibly selfish moves. Someone was always tailgating me, trying to push me into going faster. Several people cut me off. There was a lot of impatient revving of engines and drivers weaving in and out of traffic. I instantly got into a crabby mood.

Then I realized that with all that driving I did in the Phoenix area, not one person tailgated me, no one pushed me or cut me off, and most drivers actually gave me my space and yielded to me even when they didn't have to. In fact, most everyone drove the speed limit or less, even though I didn't see more than one officer on the road during the entire trip. Whenever I was unsure of my route, other drivers slowed to give me a chance to decide which lane I needed to be in.

In Nevada, if you put on your turn signal to change lanes, the drivers in the lane next to you speed up so that you can't get in. In Arizona, if you put on your turn signal, the drivers slow down and wave you in. There is just a general sense of decency that I get from the people in Arizona. People seem to actually care about one another. When my daughter gave me a tour of the university campus, every person we passed stopped to say hello and introduce themselves to me. Maybe it's all that sunshine. It makes people cheerful.

Reflections on Showmanship

While watching riders at the Scottsdale Arabian Horse Show, I saw some common behaviors that bothered me. I am far from understanding the culture of Arabian horse showing and cannot for the life of me figure out how classes are judged. However, I did have some observations as a spectator that I'd like to voice.

I found those riders who sat up straight in a relaxed manner and looked where they were going to be the most attractive to watch. Unfortunately, I saw too many riders glaring at the back of their horses' heads as if daring them to break from frame and headset. The anger in their eyes made me feel pity for their horses.

Other riders behaved more like spectators. They were so busy looking around the arena and gawking at other riders and horses that they completely forgot that they were part of the show. If you are there to ride, ride. If you are there to watch, watch. If you are there to judge, judge. But don't try to watch and be a judge if you are riding.

The other behavior that I felt exhibited poor showmanship was to constantly be checking to see if the judges are watching you. I saw one rider get so frustrated over the judges not watching her that she turned her horse right in front of them and circled dangerously close to them, blocking their view of other riders. She succeeded in getting their attention, because they had to take a step back to avoid getting run over.

I find it interesting that right after I wrote the draft of this post, Horse & Rider magazine came out with an article that talked about show judges' pet peeves, and one of them was being stared at by the riders. This was in the article "Inside Judges' Minds" by Patty Brumley in the March 2010 issue. She writes...

Staring at the judge. Especially common in Western pleasure classes -- a fad started by a "famous trainer" to make sure the judges knew just who he/she was. "It's offensive," says Rod Safty. Adds Sullivan: "Just look forward and show."

Perhaps what bothered me the most was unnecessary bit-bumping. Riders jerk the reins to cue their horses to stay in a collected frame and keep their head set properly. One woman kept looking at the judges every two-seconds and then as soon as she'd turn her attention back to her horse, she'd automatically jerk the reins. That horse did not move out of its frame one iota, so there was no reason for the rider to be yanking on its mouth. I felt that, if anything, she needed to have some reins attached to her own mouth yanked every two seconds to keep her attention on where she was going.

I also didn't care for the riders who seemed to ignore the gait and directional change requests from the judges. I know that sometimes riders have to maneuver around the arena to avoid other horses that may be causing them problems, but if it takes a rider more than 20 seconds to respond to a gait or directional change request, it appears as if he or she is being stubborn or rebellious. The message I read into it is, "I'll get around to it in my own sweet time when I feel like it."

Lastly, riders need to remember to breathe. This was mentioned by clinician Bob Leary. Riding with a purple face from holding one's breath is not pretty. If you are going to spend thousands of dollars to gussy yourself up for a horse show, at least try to look pretty and smile. After all, isn't horseback riding supposed to be a fun activity?

Educational Seminars

I was able to attend a couple of educational seminars while at the Annual Scottsdale Arabian Horse Show. This is Lee Smith.

She is from Wickenburg, Arizona. Most of her presentation involved working with a horse and rider starting with the process of tacking up and focusing on equine psychology.

Lee is so mellow and easygoing that she's a natural around horses.

This is Bob Leary, who teaches equitation for Arizona State University, with a rider who helped him demonstrate the right and wrong ways to perform various maneuvers.

He talked about a variety of information ranging from how a horse sees with its eyes to flying lead changes.

I enjoyed his explanation of using cues to stop your horse. First, sit back. If the horse doesn't stop, then squeeze with your thighs while sitting back. If the horse still doesn't stop, say whoa. As a last result, pull back on the reins. I'm not really conscious of how I stop my horses. I think I normally use my voice first. So, when I got home I rode Bombay to see if he would stop with just the cue of me sitting back on my pockets. He did.

English Riding

Hunter Riding

Western Riding