And Then It All Went to Hell in a Handbasket

Here's a couple pictures from Friday:

Stadium, the morning lesson on Friday where I jumped my first bending line

Trotting through the water complex on XC

Saturday's events:

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I woke up to the pleasant sound of horses nickering and an espresso machine. Which, as I would find out Sunday morning, was being employed in the creation of some really, REALLY good vanilla lattes. But I digress.

About 45 minutes before my morning lesson, my mom and I went to get McKinna ready. Glancing up, I see the chestnut gelding of one of my group members absolutely freaking out as he's tied to the trailer. This gelding pulls back hard, goes up, hooks a foreleg over his leadrope, flails, and then his rider undid the quick release. The grey gelding tied to the trailer, who belongs to the third guy in my group, pulls back in the trademark TB Sympathy Panic, breaks the ring he's tied to, and both horses trot nervously into the corner of the pasture we're all parked in (only a few feet away, thankfully). By this time I was already over there.

Within seconds, we see the sight that makes any horse person's heart sink: blood starts dripping down onto the gelding's left hind leg. Fast. The grey's owner catches him and ties him now that he's settled down; the chestnut's owner catches him and tries to look at the injury. I come over to hold his head (the horse's name is Al, by the way) while his owner takes a look. Al settles down a little, and we can see that it's a nasty slice right on his stifle. It gapes open every time he takes a step, and blood is coming pretty fast. We locate some towels to hold on it, and until the vet arrives maybe 45 minutes later, Al settles down quite a bit and is holding still. I'm at his head petting him and holding him still, his owner's holding a series of blood-soaked towels to the injury.

Eventually the vet comes, sedates him, stitches it up, etc etc etc. All three of us skipped the morning lesson and let the trainer know. During lunch hour, me and the rider of the grey decided to go out for a lesson.

Our instructor takes us out to the XC field, where they've just spread a very very thin layer of fresh compost. We warm up at a trot on a nice big circle; McKinna's a little hot, but nothing major, and she's relaxing as I move her off my leg. When told to, we pick up the canter -- it's beautiful. A flawless, balanced transition (somewhat of a rarity for her!), and the first few steps are just lovely. Relaxed, an easy tempo.

And that was when everything went to hell in a handbasket.

We hadn't gone more than three strides when all of a sudden McKinna's forelegs were sliding crazily out from under her. Her nose must have only been a few inches off the ground -- all I registered was that I could see her foreleg out of the corner of my eye (I think she spread them out in opposite directions to try to regain balance), her forehand was going way down, and I was popping off over her shoulder. I landed on my right side, feet first, rolling down, saying "Please don't step on me, please don't step on me."

When we came to a halt, McKinna had managed to regain her balance. I'm laying on the ground on my right side. Her forelegs are on either side of my waist, and my whole lower body is under her body. She's standing dead still. After a brief second to breathe and realize she wasn't going to step on me, I said, "Ow."

And then a lot more ows, and I started crying, because my right ankle hurt really really bad. I couldn't use it to move myself, so the instructor carefully backed McKinna up and handed her to the other rider. I immediately took my boot and sock off, realized that there was no way I was going to be able to put weight on it, and said "I am going to be SO PISSED if this is broken."

We're maybe a half mile away from the camp (we are on a cross country course, after all!), so I get lifted up onto McKinna and ride her back, semi-hysterical the whole way. By the time I dismount and get into a chair, it's swollen to maybe the size of a baseball -- and I have small ankles.

Horse people being horse people, there are doctors and nurses and people with crutches and so on, so in a rather timely fashion I've got ice wrapped on it, which of course makes it hurt even more because it's not numb yet.


Anyway. What it came down to is, my ankle's broken. The doctor I saw that day said I couldn't put weight on it for 4 to 6 weeks; I go in to see the orthopedic surgeon tomorrow, where I will find out more specifics and they will hopefully tell me that 1. I can keep it in a boot instead of a cast and 2. it's non-surgical.

Mostly I'm just really pissed that I can't ride. I was so excited to keep working with McKinna throughout the weekend -- I had JUST gotten the feeling for how to rate her gallop. I can still feel it now, which is good, because as soon as I'm able I'm going to go out there and try it out. I was loving the stadium lessons, because she's come so far (can hold a course together, finds her own distances, understands the concept of leads) and our group was so much fun. I'd just learned to do banks and things like that, and I couldn't wait till we did more complicated stuff.

Not to mention there are several upcoming things like clinics, schooling shows, etc that I can't do now.

On the plus side, I did stick around and watch other lessons. Thanks to that I really solidified my understanding of how to set up a horse for a fence on XC, and tied in to that, how to fix my position. I tend to jump ahead of the horse, a habit I acquired when Bailey used to rush all of his fences. It makes me more likely to come off if she stops, because I'm already ahead of the motion, and she has such a shorter neck than a TB that there's nothing there to catch myself on.

We've just moved to a new barn, too. McKinna is out in the giant mare pasture, cheerfully roaming all day, and she appears to have made friends with an adorable Shire cross. I met at least three people at the camp this weekend who live literally right next to this new barn -- so I have some new riding buddies, even though I can't ride! I'm excited to start riding with them once I can, though. One of them has a big field with some XC fences in it, and one of the ladies has a really sweet packer mare that she's offered to let my mom ride.

But here's what I've decided in light of my fall and what I've learned this weekend.

I am going to establish a really, REALLY solid position once I'm back in the saddle. That means I need to ride without stirrups, a lot. I need to get my mom to longe me so I can focus on me. I need to spend a lot of time in two-point strengthening those muscles. I need to go out into a really big field and practice going back and forth between galloping and setting back for a fence. I need to stop jumping ahead.

So, that's that. Since I won't be riding, you will be treated to all kinds of blogs that I've been meaning to write (talk at leadership camp et al), as well as reflections on training methods and so on. One of the things I've decided to work on is to have McKinna come reliably when called; I'm going to enlist my mom to help me with that, so I will post an update once we try it a little. It involves me learning how to whistle loudly, so I need to acquire that skill first!

Hope your weekend went a little better than mine :) Here's me arriving back at camp in my trainer's car after going to Urgent Care.