Sharon McCusker clinic
Sat around in a cold arena for a good chunk of yesterday, there was a clinic at MRF with Sharon McCusker. And I got to see Clover for the first time since I’d dropped her off the Saturday before. Michele said her rides with her working student Jen went well—her first lesson had been with Jen on Monday, and on Thursday Clover was ridden in a lesson with an outside client, who loved her, apparently. Michele asked if I thought Clover would be ok in a longe lesson, considering her aptitude for throwing a buck or two and hauling around when being longed as a warm up. I think so, especially if there’s a rider aboard.
The clinic itself was ok; Sharon worked the riders hard to get the desired results. Like most clinics, I was glad to be auditing; at my level, I get just as much out of a riding lesson—actually, more, since I’m not nervous about riding and can focus better so I retain more. But after the fourth pair even Christine was freezing cold, it was a raw sort of cold, it was making me achy. We’d both thought it was going to be milder, and Christine was considering leaving to go home (before the third and fourth level rides) and put Irish’s blanket back on, but we went up to Michele’s apartment and had some chowder made by her mother. After lunch, the third level (or the woman on the chestnut Morgan) ride was interesting, but the last rider was so abrupt and impatient with her horse that we left. She’d come in to warm up as the previous rider was finishing, and she kicked and yanked and swatted and seemed to get all huffy. She reminded me of me not too long ago, asking for something, not being clear about it and getting impatient when the horse didn’t respond in the right way. I wasn’t ever quite that bad, though—the rider would huffily yank with the snaffle and curb, and in general kept a stranglehold on both reins. I was hoping that Sharon would say something—like “let go of the curb!” but she just diplomatically worked with the rider, and we just bailed.
The clinic itself was ok; Sharon worked the riders hard to get the desired results. Like most clinics, I was glad to be auditing; at my level, I get just as much out of a riding lesson—actually, more, since I’m not nervous about riding and can focus better so I retain more. But after the fourth pair even Christine was freezing cold, it was a raw sort of cold, it was making me achy. We’d both thought it was going to be milder, and Christine was considering leaving to go home (before the third and fourth level rides) and put Irish’s blanket back on, but we went up to Michele’s apartment and had some chowder made by her mother. After lunch, the third level (or the woman on the chestnut Morgan) ride was interesting, but the last rider was so abrupt and impatient with her horse that we left. She’d come in to warm up as the previous rider was finishing, and she kicked and yanked and swatted and seemed to get all huffy. She reminded me of me not too long ago, asking for something, not being clear about it and getting impatient when the horse didn’t respond in the right way. I wasn’t ever quite that bad, though—the rider would huffily yank with the snaffle and curb, and in general kept a stranglehold on both reins. I was hoping that Sharon would say something—like “let go of the curb!” but she just diplomatically worked with the rider, and we just bailed.
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