Right I promised I would pen this story down so here it is…

Riding started for me when I was 3 years old. Friends of ours had a plot and they had horses – Helen the daughter was my best friend. They were real ma-plotter ponies that were bomb proof safe as anything and for some reason didn’t mind the excessive pampering they got from us as kids. We didn’t know horses kicked, we didn’t know they bucked and we didn’t know you rode them with a saddle. Helen and I were constantly between their feet, in their barn and on their backs. By the time we were 7 Helen’s  mom decided to buy her a pony.

His name was “Prince Thunderbolt” and this is where the real journey began. For a while Prince was kept at the plot and then they heard of a stable yard in Springs called Winstead started by a Natalian Graeme Winn. So her mom packed up Prince took him to Winstead and Helen began a successful career in riding. As the attachment I was dragged everywhere and this included to the stables… The plot ponies were still there and when we weren’t with Prince we were on Beauty or Kweeper’s back.

One particular day my parents arrived early to pick me up and saw me and Helen riding double donkey high tailing it through the peach tree grove. Now there had been excessive nagging to start lessons with Graeme but to no avail at that stage. My now snow white and fearful mother almost had heart failure when she saw us and as the good father he is my dad suggested perhaps if I am going to be riding I should have lessons because there was a concern that if I carried on in this manner I may kill myself

So I started lessons with Graeme. There were a string of beautiful horses I had the privilege of having in my life from then. Rambling Boy, Quest, Kentucky, Bonny Bride, Black Steel and the list goes on. My all time favourite was a caramel dun called “Caramel” yes VERY inventive – he was a Boots on Steroids. And then a paint polo pony I was given to teach how to jump named Salsa’s Beat – to this day I have a couple of dents in my leg from him

Winstead was an eventing yard and we were taught one thing. No fear. Fear was not allowed. We jumped a lot and we jumped high. We jumped without reins without stirrups and sometimes without our senses. We had to read a Magazine while going over  jumps and tell Graeme what was on the page after a line of jumps. We did very little dressage and we galloped a LOT through the mielie lands, over hills, through gorges and across rivers. It was a beautiful introduction to horses and something i could never replace.

I never owned my own horse or pony – my parents simply couldn’t afford it. But i polished the school ponies, prepped the liveries horses for shows, mucked out stables, stayed awake with colic horses and rode whichever mad horse was available just so I could ride and Graeme rewarded me by letting me ride as often as I wanted, and when there was a horse available. I was also always allowed on Prince and the may horses Helen owned afterwards including Bronski Beat and Razzle Dazzle who took her to the top right to the Transvaal Eventing Junior team. Even back then I was the crash test dummy – but it taught me so much!

But then studies beckoned and JHB awaited. I was sucked into the concrete jungle and lived between the skyscrapers with no horse in sight for four years. But they were never far from my heart. When I was 21 I started a career in journalism, met a guy who lived in Midrand, and packed up my life leaving the concrete behind me and moved to a plot in Crowthorne. There were horses everywhere! New Road was a dirt road and horses were always a factor. Then I met Debbie at the then Johnnic. She asked me to come and ride her big chestnut gelding for her because he was just standing there and no one wanted to ride him.

It was love at first sight. Crypton was a 16.3h Chestnut with a gorgeous blaze, the biggest heart, the most fearless creature (except when ninja electric fences were involved). He had recently been rescued by Debbie from a farm close to Diepsloot and had been terribly abused. As a result he hated men, thought every meal was his last and cried incessantly when people weren’t around – I couldn’t picture a life without him so bought him and stabled him with Debs for a while. But Crypton also inspired me to buy my plot and that is when I got Flutterby his companion – this was the first time I had to look after and care for my own horses in my own place. She was also a rescue and had HUGE trust issues. A little chestnut Anglo-Arab only about 15.1h she was a firecracker. When she arrived everything was going well – until 5 days later and the night of my housewarming where she got ill so we got the vet out thinking it was colic. Alas no colic – she was in labour. Yip this skinny little thing was about to give birth and we didn’t even realise she was pregnant she was so emaciated.

That night Vicky or Victors Choice (my dad wanted me to keep her so we named her after him) was born. Debbie and I caught the foal that night after a very bewildered Flutterby pissed off during the delivery and ran away. Vicky was a cocky little chestnut. So I landed up with three chestnuts and they were called the Peanut Butter Gang. Crypton restored my love for horses and Flutterby taught me patience with them, while Vicky just caused chaos. Crypton was a gem he drank beer, ate peanut butter sarmies and snicker, watched TV in the lounge with me, stole chips off the table at a braai and once herded me from a paddock fire. He never bucked but when he spooked he sat down on all four.We jumped, went on outrides, we even went to a Sunlands show together.

Then Flynn was born, I was a single mom and I decided to start my own business. There was simply no time and the Peanut Butter Gang needed me and I couldn’t give them the attention. So I made the hardest decision I ever had to when Flynn was about 2 I rehomed my children. Crypton became a school master at Brieley (spelling) Park stables, my very damaged Flutterby went to Vereeniging to become a brood mare, and Vicky went to a loving home where she was pampered to death apparently still is pampered to death.

That was one of my darkest days. I sat on the driveway as they drove out in that horse box and I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. The dream I had worked my whole life for drove out of my gate and I could never get them back they were gone. So for three years I didn’t ride, I was too heartbroken to even think of owning another. Then Emma started working for me and like me, as soon as she got a job she bought Sox. So she asked me to go ride with her and I met Pam. My first outride with Emma Teddy pissed off with me, but the bug bit. However it wasn’t me that started first. Flynn wanted to start riding so he started lessons with Pam. Tired of sitting on the sidelines I asked her if I could start taking lessons with her. She popped me on Billy and that was the end of that.

But it was the start of a new chapter… A chapter where I made new friends, rediscovered my love of riding, my passion and understanding of horses and a chapter filled with a new special man in my life … Lunar.

But the Looney story is a story all of its own and when I get the time I will share the love affair I now have with another man who has taught me even more…

As I sit here in my office writing yet more copy for yet another project.  There is one thing I would rather be doing… Riding my horse! Although all tucked up in his blankie right now I am sure he doesn’t share my sentiment or my enthusiasm.

A bad day riding is still better than a good day at the office.

#thatisall

Lessons can be taxing …

Here is a video of me an the Lunar at a lesson almost a year ago …

Enjoy or don’t – comments welcome!

C

There is nothing quite as rewarding as riding a horse. It is a lifetime connection, a commitment, a dream and a love that few could ever explain.

I have a special journey, one that is going to take time to document. Not sure if you want to walk that road with me but if you do stay tuned. It involves 33 years of being in the saddle. Having loved and lost, having laughed and cried and a couple of emergency rooms in the process.

But you don’t ride a horse if you are a sissy, if you want to prove something to the world or if you are scared of flying. You ride horses because there is something special about tearing around a field on something with more horse power than a Maserati however the steering is broken, the wheels are flat and the brakes are broke. Its about a journey and it is about love….

In the ensuing weeks I will share my journey with you… If you would like to hear it of course.

Yours in brace, cast, traction but always happiness!

C