A Wreck Story
The publication "Eclectic Horseman" has a video gazette they publish quarterly that usually includes 'a wreck story' at the end. It's one of my favorite parts --- it features a seasoned horseman sharing one of their experiences where maybe they didn't make the right choice or respond in the best way to circumstances presented to them. It is in the spirit of the Gazette that I offer this tale of woe. Maybe someone else can learn from my stupidity.
In May of 2011, I had been working with a trainer for about two months, enlisting his help to get a horse going under saddle and continue the work with one I had previously started. I was very excited to finally get some help as I had been working for years as my own teacher, critiquer, advisor, cheer-leader and student, all at the same time. A serious case of 'hero-worship' was well on its way to forming.
Said trainer had the great idea that we should go down to the hills in southern Ohio and have a long trail ride at one of his favorite spots, thereby exposing me (who would ride his trusted mare) and my horse (who he would ride) to this new experience and develop more confidence as a result.
In May of 2011, I had been working with a trainer for about two months, enlisting his help to get a horse going under saddle and continue the work with one I had previously started. I was very excited to finally get some help as I had been working for years as my own teacher, critiquer, advisor, cheer-leader and student, all at the same time. A serious case of 'hero-worship' was well on its way to forming.
Said trainer had the great idea that we should go down to the hills in southern Ohio and have a long trail ride at one of his favorite spots, thereby exposing me (who would ride his trusted mare) and my horse (who he would ride) to this new experience and develop more confidence as a result.
Lesson Number One: Hero-worship is not a good idea. It clouds judgment and if you aren’t cautious, you may find yourself in the backseat of a truck with two heavy smokers up front, breathing in smoke that normally you would never allow yourself to be exposed to. You may find yourself even allowing someone to smoke while riding your horse, when normally you would rip someone’s ass for merely being within 25 feet of your horse with a lighted cigarette. You may throw all of your beliefs out the window all to avoid some perceived disappointment in the eyes of your ‘hero’.
I knew this trainer to be someone who took the time to bring a horse along through its training, slowly and methodically, but he also had this idea of the effectiveness of what I term ‘immersion training’. It’s very much like flooding in psychological terms. I remember having conversations with him about it and it is a concept that I am vehemently opposed to. He would tell me about horses that went on these trails in southern Ohio and in his words, ‘if you can survive the first two hours, well then you end up with a changed horse’. The basic premise is that the horse can’t stay at that heightened state of fear and anxiety forever and will therefore, learn to deal with it all. Okay, I see that, but I am all about making things EASY for the horse….as easy as possible….I don’t want to put them in a situation where they basically go insane or get a grip. And yet, and this is the part I still do not understand about myself, I allowed myself to be put in this situation, and even more unforgiveable, signed my horse up as well.
Which leads me to: LESSON NUMBER TWO: When faced with circumstances that go against the grain of your belief systems, STOP. Take the time to reassess, to see if you are really acting in accordance with what you believe or if you are simply following the herd over the cliff, not wanting to go against the forward motion.
We made it to the trails safely and proceeded to unload and tack up the horses. This was my first one-on-one interaction with the trainer's mare and as I was tacking her up I had the fleeting thought that perhaps I should have spent some time riding her and getting to know her prior to this endeavor.
LESSON NUMBER THREE: Don't assume that someone else knows what you can handle on a horse or even knows what their horse will do on a given day....in fact, just plain don't assume ANYthing.
As soon as I mounted on this mare, I quickly noticed how she had her own ideas about where she was going to go and at what speed she was going to get there. I attempted to get with her using various pressures/releases, encouragement, praise, moving her around....many things, but we were quickly into a steep decent onto a muddy trail and even my two seasoned veterans were commenting about the bad state of the trail. (The thought occured to me that perhaps I should have taken the record-breaking rainfall we'd been having this spring into consideration and maybe even have asked the question if that would effect our footing).
LESSON NUMBER FOUR: Don't assume that just because YOU are the 'junior ranger' in a group that you in fact don't know better than the 'experts'. See Lesson Three on Assumptions.
The trails were in horrid conditions...very muddy in many places, unmaintained with a HUGE tree down across the trail at about an hour and a half in that we had to jump. I did this well with the mare I was on and felt good about that, but had otherwise been having a miserable ride on her as I could NOT keep her off the rump of the gelding in front of me and I mean ON his rump. I had given up trying to fight her.
LESSON NUMBER FIVE: When you are having a miserable time and are forced to 'give up', why, for the love of god, would anyone just keep going and figure that it is going to be ok? When the inner voice is SCREAMING at you to stop, stop. But I remained deaf to my inner voice and on we went. At one point on the trail, we came across another log, and my mare's big jump over it and subsequent landing in bad footing, resulted in her coming down hard on her front legs. The trainer, to his credit, handled it well, but she cut her front right knee badly. I still see the scar daily to remind me of my failure to use good judgment and keep her safe.
After getting her cut rinsed out and the bleeding stopped we continued on and eventually came to a steep decent on the trail which was quite rocky (think flat large stones) and the trail at this point was a washed out rut leading up to the stones, due to the deluge of prior rains. I was doing 'okay' on the mare I thought, but still had little to no control over her and as we came to an extremely steep decline about 20 yards into the long descent, I saw the stone that we were on and the drop off and sharp turn following it and thought 'she can't see that', since her head was literally on the rump of the gelding in front of me. I pulled her back to get her off of the gelding and she fought me, so that when I released her, she sprung forward and I lost my seat and came down on the side of her neck (the front of my chest). As I fought to get my center, she lurched to the right and I came the rest of the way off finding myself in the mud in FRONT of her. The gelding in front kicked with his back feet (shod with steel shoes) and made a ringing contact with the side of my helmet. Thank goodness I had my helmet on....it was likely the ONE AND ONLY thing I did right that day. I had made a contorted landing and had the quick thought to 'not land this way or you'll break your back' and had changed my angle slightly, but I still torqued my back pretty badly. (I really experienced some otherwordly sensations as time stood still for me, but I'll save those revelations for another forum).
The horse I had been on was still behind me and I was scrambling to get up the side of the rutted path and out of her way....I really thought she might trample me and remember thinking I hope she lands on a large muscle group, but to the mare's credit, she somehow got over me.....probably the only thing SHE did 'right' that day, in my convoluted and stupified view of the day. (I later found out that this mare, who had been used to being out on pasture had been stalled 24/7 for 2-3 weeks prior to this ride and even though the trainer had said he was going to get her out and work her, he did not....so she was taken out of the stall fresh, loaded into the trailer and handed over to me. See above lesson on ASSumptions. She was simply being a horse.)
We re-grouped and I was quite shaken but seemed to be okay except I knew I had injured my back. Thing is, we were not even to the halfway mark so had about 3 hours left including going back through what we had just come through.
LESSON NUMBER SIX: There is no shame in cutting your losses. If I would have had ANY sense whatsoever, and nothing I had done up to this point indicated the existence of even the sense a dead armadillo has, I would have said, okay, it's been real and grabbed MY mare and walked the hell out of there, waited for my two compadres back at the trailer, and upon getting home, kissed the ground. Nope.
We walked down the hill and I got back on the mare and it wasn't long before we came to a small pool of water where the riders typically let the horses drink. The mare I was on waded right in and I gave her her head to get a drink as the trainer and another rider who was there talked about how best to get through this area and pick up the trail on the other side. There was a sandy beach on the other side of the pool and a tree had fallen across the pool, so I aimed for straight across, a path that would by-pass the fallen tree. By now I have realized that the mare I am on has a tendency to just bolt over things and I had aimed her pretty well, but nope, she turned left (why should she start listening to me now? I haven't made any impression on her as a leader that is for sure) and bolted under the tree. I ducked but the tree was too low and I cracked the front of my forehead into the tree (again, thank god for my helmet) snapping my head backwards and again hearing a mighty thunk on the helmet as the mare continued to bolt, but I yanked her around and said, I am not coming off of this f*$#ing mare again! By now I am shaking again and I just want a pair of ruby slippers that I can click and go home, but I know that the only way out is through. We are close to the half-way point and we come to that area and rest the horses and the other guy with us (not the trainer) walks with me to a lookout rock and I try to summon my courage and get it together. I know I have about 3 hours more to ride....I have to do it.
I end up refusing to ride UP the hill that I fell down or through the water hole, instead walking the mare around it and through the mud -laden 'path' up the hill. I realize just how bad the footing is and again wonder what I had been using to take up space in my skull to even get to this place. I do end up riding the mare a little bit better on the way back and again we have to jump this massive tree. I am terrified and lose my right stirrup going over it, but stay on with no problem and decide I am in survival mode and I will get out of this ok.
After all is said and done and we are back home and I have treated my mare's knee, the stiffness and soreness sets in along with shooting numbness from the place where I bent in my spine. I end up going to the E.R. the next day and get x-rays but there is nothing indicated on the x-ray. It took nearly a year for the tingling/shooting sensations to go away and I still have a tiny bit of residual (I am writing this at one year and 4 months post-incident), but now when I feel it, I grab onto it and think, okay a reminder of the many lessons learned. I don't know what it is about myself that I would so easily throw all common sense and even a sense of self-preservation out the window, but this is a flaw that I am ever vigilant for.
The physical scars ended up healing better and more quickly than the lasting emotional/psychological scars of this incident. I still battle a nearly paralyzing fear of the activity that I loved the most in the world: riding. I'm getting through it though, bit by bit and I know it is a battle that I will win.
The trainer (who I am no longer associated with) said a few things to me afterwards which brought me to another lesson. He was apologetic and I know felt very badly about what had happened, but on the way home in the truck, he turned to me and said: 'we have to work on your balance. You shouldn't have come off that easily'. That statement would go on to haunt me and I think in some ways has been more devastating than even the trauma of the wreck. He said other things like how he has had beginners on that trail and even on that same mare. But, there were other things I learned, how I am the 4th person he knows of to come off at that very same spot. Hmmm. And that was not in the slippery and horrible conditions that we had to deal with. He went on to 'work with me' and explain his seat and we made some adjustments to mine, all of which I have since completely undone as I work my way through true masters' work like Mary Wanless, Wendy Murdoch and others, who truly understand rider biomechanics and what it takes to be balanced on a horse.
FINAL LESSON (I doubt this is the final lesson as I know I will glean more from this experience, but....): the only thing worse than getting bad advice, is taking it. In the end, when all is said and done, we are responsible for our own conditions and for the individual decisions we make that shape our lives. No one held a gun to my head and said you must do this, this and this, IN FACT I PAID THIS TRAINER FOR THIS EXPERIENCE!!! and I could have, and should have stood up for myself and for my horse many times throughout my experience on this trail and during many other times with my involvement with this trainer. But we can delude ourselves into seeing things that truly aren't there and in making things that don't fit, fit the image we have created. If you use a big enough sledge hammer, you really can make a square peg fit a round hole. This is a trap of our own creation. Fortunately, we hold the key to its unraveling. No, there is only one person I have to hold up for this debacle....myself.
And, like a tattoo my son has says: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What it doesn't say is that you may get stripped down to a quivering weakling before you get that strength.
We made it to the trails safely and proceeded to unload and tack up the horses. This was my first one-on-one interaction with the trainer's mare and as I was tacking her up I had the fleeting thought that perhaps I should have spent some time riding her and getting to know her prior to this endeavor.
LESSON NUMBER THREE: Don't assume that someone else knows what you can handle on a horse or even knows what their horse will do on a given day....in fact, just plain don't assume ANYthing.
As soon as I mounted on this mare, I quickly noticed how she had her own ideas about where she was going to go and at what speed she was going to get there. I attempted to get with her using various pressures/releases, encouragement, praise, moving her around....many things, but we were quickly into a steep decent onto a muddy trail and even my two seasoned veterans were commenting about the bad state of the trail. (The thought occured to me that perhaps I should have taken the record-breaking rainfall we'd been having this spring into consideration and maybe even have asked the question if that would effect our footing).
LESSON NUMBER FOUR: Don't assume that just because YOU are the 'junior ranger' in a group that you in fact don't know better than the 'experts'. See Lesson Three on Assumptions.
The trails were in horrid conditions...very muddy in many places, unmaintained with a HUGE tree down across the trail at about an hour and a half in that we had to jump. I did this well with the mare I was on and felt good about that, but had otherwise been having a miserable ride on her as I could NOT keep her off the rump of the gelding in front of me and I mean ON his rump. I had given up trying to fight her.
LESSON NUMBER FIVE: When you are having a miserable time and are forced to 'give up', why, for the love of god, would anyone just keep going and figure that it is going to be ok? When the inner voice is SCREAMING at you to stop, stop. But I remained deaf to my inner voice and on we went. At one point on the trail, we came across another log, and my mare's big jump over it and subsequent landing in bad footing, resulted in her coming down hard on her front legs. The trainer, to his credit, handled it well, but she cut her front right knee badly. I still see the scar daily to remind me of my failure to use good judgment and keep her safe.
After getting her cut rinsed out and the bleeding stopped we continued on and eventually came to a steep decent on the trail which was quite rocky (think flat large stones) and the trail at this point was a washed out rut leading up to the stones, due to the deluge of prior rains. I was doing 'okay' on the mare I thought, but still had little to no control over her and as we came to an extremely steep decline about 20 yards into the long descent, I saw the stone that we were on and the drop off and sharp turn following it and thought 'she can't see that', since her head was literally on the rump of the gelding in front of me. I pulled her back to get her off of the gelding and she fought me, so that when I released her, she sprung forward and I lost my seat and came down on the side of her neck (the front of my chest). As I fought to get my center, she lurched to the right and I came the rest of the way off finding myself in the mud in FRONT of her. The gelding in front kicked with his back feet (shod with steel shoes) and made a ringing contact with the side of my helmet. Thank goodness I had my helmet on....it was likely the ONE AND ONLY thing I did right that day. I had made a contorted landing and had the quick thought to 'not land this way or you'll break your back' and had changed my angle slightly, but I still torqued my back pretty badly. (I really experienced some otherwordly sensations as time stood still for me, but I'll save those revelations for another forum).
The horse I had been on was still behind me and I was scrambling to get up the side of the rutted path and out of her way....I really thought she might trample me and remember thinking I hope she lands on a large muscle group, but to the mare's credit, she somehow got over me.....probably the only thing SHE did 'right' that day, in my convoluted and stupified view of the day. (I later found out that this mare, who had been used to being out on pasture had been stalled 24/7 for 2-3 weeks prior to this ride and even though the trainer had said he was going to get her out and work her, he did not....so she was taken out of the stall fresh, loaded into the trailer and handed over to me. See above lesson on ASSumptions. She was simply being a horse.)
We re-grouped and I was quite shaken but seemed to be okay except I knew I had injured my back. Thing is, we were not even to the halfway mark so had about 3 hours left including going back through what we had just come through.
LESSON NUMBER SIX: There is no shame in cutting your losses. If I would have had ANY sense whatsoever, and nothing I had done up to this point indicated the existence of even the sense a dead armadillo has, I would have said, okay, it's been real and grabbed MY mare and walked the hell out of there, waited for my two compadres back at the trailer, and upon getting home, kissed the ground. Nope.
We walked down the hill and I got back on the mare and it wasn't long before we came to a small pool of water where the riders typically let the horses drink. The mare I was on waded right in and I gave her her head to get a drink as the trainer and another rider who was there talked about how best to get through this area and pick up the trail on the other side. There was a sandy beach on the other side of the pool and a tree had fallen across the pool, so I aimed for straight across, a path that would by-pass the fallen tree. By now I have realized that the mare I am on has a tendency to just bolt over things and I had aimed her pretty well, but nope, she turned left (why should she start listening to me now? I haven't made any impression on her as a leader that is for sure) and bolted under the tree. I ducked but the tree was too low and I cracked the front of my forehead into the tree (again, thank god for my helmet) snapping my head backwards and again hearing a mighty thunk on the helmet as the mare continued to bolt, but I yanked her around and said, I am not coming off of this f*$#ing mare again! By now I am shaking again and I just want a pair of ruby slippers that I can click and go home, but I know that the only way out is through. We are close to the half-way point and we come to that area and rest the horses and the other guy with us (not the trainer) walks with me to a lookout rock and I try to summon my courage and get it together. I know I have about 3 hours more to ride....I have to do it.
I end up refusing to ride UP the hill that I fell down or through the water hole, instead walking the mare around it and through the mud -laden 'path' up the hill. I realize just how bad the footing is and again wonder what I had been using to take up space in my skull to even get to this place. I do end up riding the mare a little bit better on the way back and again we have to jump this massive tree. I am terrified and lose my right stirrup going over it, but stay on with no problem and decide I am in survival mode and I will get out of this ok.
After all is said and done and we are back home and I have treated my mare's knee, the stiffness and soreness sets in along with shooting numbness from the place where I bent in my spine. I end up going to the E.R. the next day and get x-rays but there is nothing indicated on the x-ray. It took nearly a year for the tingling/shooting sensations to go away and I still have a tiny bit of residual (I am writing this at one year and 4 months post-incident), but now when I feel it, I grab onto it and think, okay a reminder of the many lessons learned. I don't know what it is about myself that I would so easily throw all common sense and even a sense of self-preservation out the window, but this is a flaw that I am ever vigilant for.
The physical scars ended up healing better and more quickly than the lasting emotional/psychological scars of this incident. I still battle a nearly paralyzing fear of the activity that I loved the most in the world: riding. I'm getting through it though, bit by bit and I know it is a battle that I will win.
The trainer (who I am no longer associated with) said a few things to me afterwards which brought me to another lesson. He was apologetic and I know felt very badly about what had happened, but on the way home in the truck, he turned to me and said: 'we have to work on your balance. You shouldn't have come off that easily'. That statement would go on to haunt me and I think in some ways has been more devastating than even the trauma of the wreck. He said other things like how he has had beginners on that trail and even on that same mare. But, there were other things I learned, how I am the 4th person he knows of to come off at that very same spot. Hmmm. And that was not in the slippery and horrible conditions that we had to deal with. He went on to 'work with me' and explain his seat and we made some adjustments to mine, all of which I have since completely undone as I work my way through true masters' work like Mary Wanless, Wendy Murdoch and others, who truly understand rider biomechanics and what it takes to be balanced on a horse.
FINAL LESSON (I doubt this is the final lesson as I know I will glean more from this experience, but....): the only thing worse than getting bad advice, is taking it. In the end, when all is said and done, we are responsible for our own conditions and for the individual decisions we make that shape our lives. No one held a gun to my head and said you must do this, this and this, IN FACT I PAID THIS TRAINER FOR THIS EXPERIENCE!!! and I could have, and should have stood up for myself and for my horse many times throughout my experience on this trail and during many other times with my involvement with this trainer. But we can delude ourselves into seeing things that truly aren't there and in making things that don't fit, fit the image we have created. If you use a big enough sledge hammer, you really can make a square peg fit a round hole. This is a trap of our own creation. Fortunately, we hold the key to its unraveling. No, there is only one person I have to hold up for this debacle....myself.
And, like a tattoo my son has says: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What it doesn't say is that you may get stripped down to a quivering weakling before you get that strength.
I hope someone can learn from my many errors and character flaws....I know I am still learning from them.
Sue, learning, growing, clawing my way back.
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