Pony Jumpers 5- Five Stride Line

by Kate Lattey

  “Awesome. Same classes as Flame, except she’s doing the Open Derby. You should give it a shot with him,” she said. “He’d jump the bigger fences easy, he was giving all the jumps massive air today.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said with a shrug. Anna was being nothing but nice to me, but I wondered if her tone would change when she realised I was friendly with Susannah. I knew that Susannah wasn’t well-liked on the show circuit, but that wasn’t really her fault, and I’d never held her family’s indiscretions against her. She’d proven to be a loyal friend and even Katy had come around eventually. But there were plenty of people who still gave her a hard time, and Anna was clearly one of them.

  “You definitely should. He’s super talented. What’s his breeding?”

  I shrugged, unwilling to continue the conversation. “Nothing fancy. I’ve gotta go,” I added, pulling Squib’s head up with some difficulty and walking away.

  “Not very friendly, is she?” I heard Anna say as I left.

  “What do you expect?” her friend responded, apparently knowing more about me than Anna did. “She’s Susannah’s friend.”

  * * *

  I was leaning on the white rail fence and watching Katy warm up Molly for her class the next morning when a woman stopped next to me.

  “Can you do me a favour?”

  I looked around and realised she was talking to me. “Um, sure. What d’you need?”

  “Can you hold Saxon while I finish screwing his studs in? My daughter’s up first on her other pony and we slept in this morning, and now we’re running really behind!” She looked flustered and I felt bad for her, since her daughter was probably bossing her around as much as Katy did with Deb.

  “Yeah, no problem,” I agreed, taking the grey gelding’s reins from her outstretched hand.

  “Thank you so much!” she said gratefully as she opened her stud kit and pulled out an Allen key. I watched as she used it to remove metal keepers from the pony’s stud holes, then replaced them with small pointed studs, which she tightened with a small spanner.

  “How do you decide which studs to use?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Depends on the ground conditions,” the woman said as she tightened the inside stud. “Pointed studs for hard ground, squares or bullets for soft ground, as a general rule. The length of the stud will change the amount of grip it gives, so these short pointed ones are just for a bit of extra traction since the ground’s pretty hard out there.”

  “How come you’re putting different ones in the same shoe?” I asked, noticing that the pointed stud that was in the outside stud hole didn’t match the one with the rounded tip on the inside.

  “You never want to put a sharp point on the inside, in case your pony stands on himself,” the woman explained. “He could do himself an injury. But these little bullets won’t do the same kind of damage.”

  She straightened up and gathered up her stud kit, then went to the pony’s hind leg. “Come on Saxon, pick it up.” The grey lifted his leg complacently, but as the woman took hold of it and went to rest it on her knee, she gave a sharp cry and the pony snatched his foot away again.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her, wondering if she’d been kicked. She turned towards me with a hand on the small of her back, looking pained.

  “Just twinged my back,” she said through gritted teeth. “Oh, damn. It does this sometimes.” She looked at me. “You wouldn’t be able to put the rest of the studs in for me, would you?”

  “Um, I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I admitted before casting a glance over my shoulder to check whether Katy was watching, because if she saw me screwing studs into someone else’s pony she’d be all over it like a rash. But she was on the other side of the warm-up with Deb, paying me absolutely zero attention, and I felt bad for the woman, who looked like her back was causing her a lot of pain. “But I can try.”

  “Would you really? It’s not hard, and he’s a good boy. I’ll talk you through it.”

  I handed the pony’s reins back to her and followed her instructions to stud him up, first removing the keepers, then spraying a bit of CRC into the stud hole before setting the stud in place and screwing it in halfway with my fingers then using the spanner to tighten it. The stud kit at my feet was full of various studs – short pointed ones, longer ones with rounded tips, small square ones that were almost flat, big bullet-shaped ones with rounded edges, and similar ones with square sides.

  “How come you’re just using these little ones?” I asked as I screwed the last stud into the pony’s offside hind. “Wouldn’t it give more grip to use bigger spikes?”

  “Sure, but you don’t want too much or you risk damaging a tendon,” she explained. “Studs need to be able to penetrate the ground you’re on, so if you use studs that’re too big you’re risking an injury. The hoof still has to be able to land on the ground in balance, and if the studs won’t sink into the ground then you’re just asking for trouble.”

  That made sense to me. “Have your ponies ever had an injury caused by studs?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t a rude question.

  “Only when someone else’s pony kicked ours,” she replied. “That made a bit of a mess, but it couldn’t be helped. And once when Saxon was left tied up at the truck with his studs in and no boots on his legs, and tried to kick a fly off his hind leg. Gave himself a mighty scrape and was out for almost a month. My daughter learned that lesson the hard way.”

  “Have you always used them?” I asked as I picked up the last stud and started screwing it in.

  “No, only once we moved up to the bigger classes. Anything over a metre-ten we consider in need of studs. Of course, you only need them for jumping off grass, so when we’re showing at places where we get to jump off the surfaced arenas, we don’t bother. Which does save a lot of time and effort, I must admit.”

  She leaned over my shoulder to watch as I tightened the last stud. “That looks great. Thanks so much for your help.”

  I straightened up and patted the pony’s muscular shoulder. “No problem. Thanks for answering my stupid questions.”

  “No such thing as a stupid question,” she said as she smiled at me. “That’s the only way you can learn. I take it that you haven’t found the need for studs yet?”

  I shook my head, my brow furrowing. “No. Well, my friend thinks I should use them, but I’m not sure. I don’t even have shoes on my pony right now, and I’d like to keep him that way if I can.” I met her eyes defiantly, waiting for her to tell me that I was stupid or ignorant, but she was nodding.

  “Fair enough. We had a pony that jumped beautifully barefoot for all the years we had her. She was the most sure-footed pony we ever had, too. Never slipped once, not even in the jump-offs, and she could really turn! As long as your pony’s keeping his feet and jumping happily, there’s probably no need to change anything.”

  I nodded, trying to convince myself that Squib’s slipping problem had been a one-off. “Thanks.”

  “Not at all. Here she is,” the woman said, looking past me at an approaching chestnut pony. “How’d Flame go?” she asked her daughter, and I realised with a start that it was Anna.

  “Stopped at the wall,” Anna said as she jumped out of the saddle and reached for Saxon’s reins. “I told you she would, she hates solid fences like that.” She saw me then, and a look of surprise registered on her face. “Hello again.”

  “This lovely young lady has just put all of Saxon’s studs in for you,” Anna’s mother told her with a broad smile, and Anna glanced at her pony’s hooves with raised eyebrows, then back to me.

  “Thanks,” she said bluntly before turning back to her mother. “Can I have a leg-up? Saxon’s only six away.”

  “I’ve put my back out again,” her mother said. “But I’m sure that…I’m sorry love, I don’t even know your name,” she realised, looking at me.

  Despite my reservations about Anna, the good manners that my parents had firmly indoctrinated into me took cha
rge, and I introduced myself.

  “AJ will give you a leg-up, I’m sure,” Anna’s mother said confidently as she ran up Flame’s stirrups.

  It felt rude to say no, so I grabbed Anna’s calf and hoisted her into the saddle.

  “I have to go help my friends now,” I said, looking pointedly across the warm-up to where Susannah and Katy were riding side-by-side, deep in conversation.

  Anna just rode off, tightening her girth as she went, but her mother’s eyes followed mine.

  “Oh, is that Katy? Say hi to Deb for me. I’d better walk Flame around until she cools off. Lovely to meet you,” she said with a smile. “Best of luck with your pony!”

  Katy had stopped at the gate and was waiting to go into the ring, and I walked up next to her and gave Molly a rub between the eyes.

  “Good luck,” I said and Katy nodded absently as she ran her eyes over the course one more time, committing it to memory.

  This was an Accumulator class, where you earned points for every fence cleared. The first fence was worth one point, the second fence worth two, and so on up to ten, where you could either jump fence ten or a Joker fence that was higher and more difficult, but worth double the number of points. If you knocked a fence down you didn’t get the points, and if you cleared everything, including the Joker, and gained maximum points, overall placings would be decided on the fastest time. I’d walked the course with Katy and Susannah so that I knew what to expect, because I was jumping in the 1.15m Accumulator this afternoon. This open class went up to 1.25m, and while the first three fences looked easy enough, the last three fences were immense, and the big Joker was positively enormous.

  “Five forward strides to the wall, turn inside the planks to the blue oxer,” Katy muttered to herself, then looked down at me. “Thanks. I see you’ve been making new friends.”

  Nothing got past her. “I was just helping them out.”

  “Don’t look so alarmed, Anna’s cool,” Katy said, flipping a hunk of Molly’s black mane over onto the other side of her neck. “She’s got nice ponies too. I’d give my left arm for that performance-bred grey of hers.” Molly tossed her head impatiently, and Katy stroked her neck gently. “Not that you’re not performance-bred, Mollypop,” she reassured the mare. “And I’d rather have you than anyone, I promise. But I wouldn’t mind Saxon on the team, that’s for sure.”

  The crowd sucked in a collective breath and we both looked over at the same time to see the pony in the ring have a refusal at the Joker, sending his rider flying over the jump alone. Molly looked startled, and Katy stroked her neck and spoke quietly to her as the rider got to his feet and grabbed his pony’s reins, shaking his head ruefully as he limped towards the gate. Katy rode into the ring at a trot and went to circle Molly at the other end while the wall was rebuilt.

  The boy dragged his pony out past me and I watched Katy move Molly up into a canter as she waited for her start bell, then felt a pony’s muzzle bumping against my shoulder and turned to see Susannah’s chestnut pony Skip.

  “Have you come to drool on me again?” I asked the pony, who had a strange but endearing habit of blowing saliva bubbles when he was bored, then dribbling them onto the nearest person.

  “Probably,” Susannah said, then gasped as Molly started her round with a heavy tap at the first fence. Fortunately the rail stayed in its cups, and Katy collected her pony up for the second jump, which Molly cleared with a flick of her tail and room to spare. Katy sped her around the rest of the course, making the tight turns that she’d walked seem easy, and they flew over the Joker to notch up the full quota of points in the fastest time so far.

  Susannah trotted into the ring and gave Katy a high-five on her way past, and I congratulated her before staying to watch Susannah’s round. Skip was beautifully schooled and looked very easy to ride, but like Molly, he was a little quiet to the first fence. Unlike Molly, however, when he tapped the rail it fell from its cups, landing on the turf and preventing Susannah from acquiring a full score. She shook her head ruefully as she rode down to the second fence, then jumped the third, but Skip lost his impulsion a little on the tight inside turn to fence four, and rolled that rail as well.

  Looking disappointed, Susannah steadied her pony back to a trot and raised her hand to the judges, indicating that she was going to retire from the class. Skip was out of the money and she would want to save him for the Pony Grand Prix tomorrow, and the Derby on Sunday. Both classes had points on offer towards the national leader board, and Susannah wanted to maintain Skip’s current top ten ranking.

  She patted Skip as she rode of the ring, and I followed her back to where Katy was cooling off Molly.

  “How’d you go?”

  “Crap. Two rails early on course so I retired.”

  Katy made a commiserating face. “Bugger! At least you’ve still got Buck in it,” she offered, but Susannah shook her head.

  “I’m saving him for the Grand Prix,” she told us, glancing down at me as I reached her side. “He’s an old man now, he’s only got so many jumps left in him and I don’t want to waste them on non-qualifiers. Oh well. Tomorrow’s another day.”

  I watched them ride away side-by-side, then turned back to the warm-up where I saw the grey pony I’d studded earlier cantering down to the practice jump. I could see why Katy was envious of Anna for owning him – he was a gorgeous mover and jumped with his knees up around his chin. They must’ve paid an arm and a leg for a pony like that, I mused as someone who was probably Anna’s father adjusted the practice fence for her, and she cantered down to it once more.

  I couldn’t count the number of times I’d wished to belong to a horsy family like that. Or like Katy’s, whose mother was constantly buying new project ponies for Katy to train and sell. Or like the Fitzherberts, who all rode and competed - apart from Phil, obviously. What a waste, to have someone who didn’t want to ride at all in the midst of all that horsiness, when there were people like me who would’ve loved to have even one parent with the slightest interest in show jumping. My parents hadn’t even seen me ride since the day we’d trialled Squib, let alone come along to a show, and despite having Katy and Deb as stalwart supporters, I couldn’t help feeling lonely at times.

  Then again, I thought as Susannah’s dad strode past me with a glowering expression, maybe it was better that I only had my own expectations to live up to, and didn’t have to deal with anyone else’s disappointment when things didn’t go to plan.

  In my short show jumping career so far, I’d had a couple of good rounds, several mediocre ones, and some that were just plain awful. But the 1.15m Accumulator class at Taupo Christmas Classic was one of the good ones. In fact, it was one of the best rounds I’d ever jumped. With a borrowed ear bonnet muffling the sound of the bell and a lengthy warm-up period, Squib didn’t explode out of control at the start of our round, and I was able to ride the track exactly the way I’d planned to. Katy had walked the course with me, working out the inside lines and tight turns that would notch up the fastest time, and I took her advice to “ride him like you stole him”, pelting around the course as fast as we could go. The jumps had seemed big on the course walk, but Squib rose to the challenge and as they disappeared beneath us, the height seemed to shrink into insignificance. Squib flew over the Joker without blinking and galloped through the flags to give us the leading time, almost three seconds clear of the next rider.

  I was thrilled, and to my complete astonishment, nobody else managed to jump clear in a faster time, giving me and Squib the first win of our show jumping career. My heart was pounding with pride as we cantered around on our victory lap, which Squib punctuated with a series of triumphant bucks that got so big I almost fell off, which would’ve been a pretty undignified – if memorable – way to celebrate our first win. But I was laughing, and when I came out of the ring Katy flung herself at me and gave me and Squib the biggest hugs, exclaiming constantly over how awesome we were and how far we’d come. It was strange to look back only a handful of mo
nths to when I could barely control my wayward pony, and now here we were, winning a hotly-contested class at such a big show. I’d never even dreamed of this kind of success until a couple of months ago. How was this my life? I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face.

  Katy pulled her iPhone – another recent present from her father – and took a few photos of me and Squib posing with our ribbon, then Deb shoved her into the photo and took a snap of all three of us. That was the one I posted on Facebook, with the caption I’d always wanted to write.

  First ever win on Squib! Smashed it in the 1.15m Accumulator at Taupo Xmas Classic, never ever expected this and honestly cant believe it! Huge thanks to Katy and Deb for all their help and support, couldn’t have done it without you both. And of course biggest thanks to Squibbles for being the BEST pony in the WORLD!!!

  “Squib was seriously awesome today,” Katy said later that evening, when the ponies were tucked up in bed with their legs wrapped and haynets stuffed full. We were sitting in her truck, eating pizza out of the box because despite Deb’s best intentions to cook meals every evening, she’d decided that she was far too tired to bother and had added onto the pizza delivery that the people two trucks down had ordered.

  I grinned at Katy as I reached over and grabbed another slice of pizza, gazing proudly at the red ribbon hanging above the sink. As usual, it was accompanied by a fistful of ribbons that Katy had picked up, because as well as winning the open class on Molly, she’d taken a first and a third so far on Gully and a fourth on Puppet.

  “I know. He’s loving the bigger fences.” I forced myself not to make any pointed comments about his lack of shoes not hindering him in the slightest, but Katy was already on the same wavelength.

  “Hopefully he can keep it up tomorrow with all this rain,” she mused, picking mushrooms off her slice of pizza as the rain spattered heavily on the roof. “If it doesn’t let up soon it’s going to be like a slip’n slide out there in the morning.”