|before the season|
Well! The dream has come true! The Bingo Victory is ours! The top board, second line took it away. Now, if you are someone with bad eyes, like myself, I am happy to read to you what happened to bring us to the greatest win of all time.
|after the season|
- Trotted the biggest xc fence on course
- Spooked at the jump judge
- Passed another horse on xc
- Got an 8 on a movement
- Your horse was “THAT” horse in warm up
We’ll start with trotting the biggest fence. We are actually trotting experts at this point. Bella loves to overwhelm herself with the idea of jumping a fence. So our trainer has us trot most fences. Fortunately, for this particular fence Bella decided to stress herself out and we had to circle and then trot the fence. When in doubt more leg right? Or sometimes I just call it a serious leg hug. All the leg hugs…all the time. So it was our first table and we trotted right over it. Good pony!
On to the next! Spooked at the jump judge. Honestly, I thought the lovely woman wearing the straw hat in the stand was going to eat us as well. The audacity of her to allow her pet alligator and shark to sit with her for OUR course was rude, but we made it through the course and exercised our lovely sidepass with flared nostrils all while snorting.
|"WTF IS THAT" - Bella|
We passed another horse on xc. Whats the big deal? Bella was flying and well, honestly, I wasn’t going to stop her because I wanted a celebratory drink as well.
Cocktail Bella: apple slices and carrots in water with rocks
Beverage Brita: A cold cheap beer
|the little lady can run!|
We got an 8! And actual 8! I teach Pre K kids all day long on how to make a circle and they look at me like it’s one of the hardest things they will even have to do. Secretly I want to tell them that “yes, circles suck…they’re the worst”. Shits crazy when you need to turn out there in the chains. Anyway we got our 8 on one circle, one time, on one test. Drop mic.
|"Circles are our friend" - Bella|
"No. They're not." - Brita
Saving the best for last. We were THAT horse. Bella loves to show her athleticism….whatever you want to call it….athleticism, spirit, drive, skill, personality, heart, all of the above words. It’s there. I decided I was able to cross this one off when I had one rider ask me: “Please don’t take this the wrong way but…is it safe to ride her?” And another one said “You might want to send up a prayer before you start your course.” Both concerns taken into account but ya just gotta take the bull by the horns in this case. We lived and it was mainly enjoyable.
|why be a horse when you can be a deer??|
Hope everyone has an awesome season! I look forward to hearing about everyone and their amazing horses!!!
-Brita & Bella
Not to be outdone, Rachael is also here to tell her tale of Eventing Bingo Woe with Birdie!
The show day began like any other, with a painfully early morning wake up call. I rolled my top half out of bed, feeling for the soft gel of my silicone breeches somewhere in the dark abyss below my bed. I instantly felt the sharp pang of regret when the blood rushed to my head and pounded at my ears, I knew I had made a series of bad decisions the night before that had led me into hangover hell. I pulled myself together, thankful that in my drunken state I had decided it would take me an extra thirty minutes to get ready. I made my way out the door and safely to the McDonald’s drive through. The normalcy of the morning show routine did not give any indication of the disastrous day to follow.
|that might look like a blanket. don't be fooled. it's SOLID MUD|
I made my way to the farm, five miles below the speed limit and just as slowly nibbling on my bacon, egg, and cheese bagel, thankful in the moment that I had a bay horse with no white. I arrived at the barn, safe, sound, and upright. I gratefully breathed in the cold air as I made my way to the dark silhouette of my mare in the field. As I closed in on the dark figure the smell of wet mud filled my nostrils. NO NO NO NO NO!! NOT ON SHOW DAY, NO! But YES, mud EVERYWHERE. Mud in her mane, mud up her legs, in her tail, and on all the sensitive areas I knew she would strike out at me for touching. Instantly my body succumbed to my hangover, painting the ground with the many colors and toppings of last night’s pizza and the realization that I had spent my extra thirty minutes in the wrong way.
After a hard-won battle I managed to grind the mud deep enough into my mare’s coat so that it was no longer visible. With a bit of a struggle I packed up and headed out.
|presentable! or, so i thought....|
The day started taking a turn for the better, as the morning light set in I was quite pleased with the camouflage my mare’s coat offered the mud, and started tacking for dressage. We made our way to warm up, feeling a little bit brighter. After taking a lap around the warm up ring, I looked down and that’s when I saw it, a glistening patch of mud right between her ears. I was so blinded by the horror of what I had seen that I momentarily forgot to steer, and careened right into another horse. Shaken, I quite literally fell off of my high horse and into a huge puddle of mud. For the second time that morning, there was mud, everywhere.
|these breeches were as white as the saddle pad this morning :(|
Determined not to cry, and not to relive the sensation of being the last bowling pin swinging from side to side before the strike, I bit my lower lip and headed into dressage. Our test went better than the morning’s events might have predicted, and while feeling the lightness of relief I made my way to the office to see if the scores had been posted. And then I saw it. Our scores, six after six after six. The innocent curl of the lower half of the number seemed to form a pattern of beautiful swirls down the marks section of the paper. I tried hard not to lose my composure after seeing the 666, the mother-fucking sign of the beast, plain as day on my dressage test.
Trying to move on from the disappointment of the morning, I came to terms with the fact that I had already paid my entry fee and I could focus for the rest of the day on gaining much needed experience. I changed out of my quite literally soiled clothing and into my jumping gear, actually feeling optimistic the day could only get better.
|pictured: engage survival mode!|
Stadium became a survival round of sorts. I was repeatedly hurled out of the tack, focusing instead on quite literally trying not to hurl. We managed despite a quite entertaining jump round to leave all of the poles up, so naturally it made sense to finish the damn thing… right? Well…
|clearing it with room to spare!!|
Out of the gate things were actually going pretty well, we cleared the pheasant feeder and a sizeable coop then settled into a nice rhythm. I was determined to redeem myself. That is, until I saw the size of the ditch ahead. This was the mother of all ditches, the ditch the beast himself surly would use as a portal to drag me down to him after flashing me his sign in my dressage scores.
I shut my eyes, shed a tear, and wrapped my legs around my mare as if I was clinging to life itself. And just like that, we were over it! The wonderful feeling of relief! I showed that ditch who was boss, and I spun around in the saddle to tell it as much with the gift of my middle finger. Alas, I spun too far, flinging myself off of my high horse once more.
There I was, as I had begun, with a throbbing head and soil blanketing me to match my horse. I pulled myself to my feet, and started making my way back to the trailers. Just as I righted myself the horse behind us on course went thundering by, spraying me with mud., EVERYWHERE. It was time to call it a day and drink a beer.
- Rachael & Birdie