"Meeting" Will Simpson

Recently, a retired horse show mom told me to check out horseshowtime.com to get information about the event I was just about to dash off too.  One can check schedules and how many people are in each class.  "See who else is there,"  she exclaimed.  I scrolled down the list.  I saw a name, Will Simpson. "He's famous" I blurted out.  The retired horse show mom was flummoxed, never heard of him.  A quick Google search confirmed the obvious.  I was right, he is famous, part of Team Gold, Beijing Olympics 2008.

Then, I instantly went into anxiety mode.  What if I was there at the show and never got to see him ride?  What if I could not figure out who he was.  Excuse me?  A guy at a horse show, how many choices were there?

Day 1: We were all sharing the one covered arena to school.  A guy about the right age was schooling a really green horse. His jacket was embroidered "Simpson Show Jumpers."   Could be him, I thought to myself.  But still room for doubt. Always the optimist.

Day 2: Another green horse with talent.  Another jacket.  This time it was embroidered:  Team Gold Beijing Olympics.  This time I was a little more sure of his identity.

Day 3:  Warming up in the mud pit, I mean schooling arena.  He was on another green prospect.   He finished and was standing still.  I was cantering Princess around to jump another doormat-sized jump.  He did not see me and turned to exit, causing me to stop abruptly to avoid crashing into him.  He apologized and said "Oh, I guess it is not all about me..."  and we both laughed.  Princess was perfect jumping the door mat and I got to "meet" Will Simpson.

Why Not to Go to a Horse Show When It Is Raining

                                                Mud-Splattered Gate at Capital City Show

This takes deep thought and consternation.  Think of all the reasons why NOT to go to a horse show when it is raining.  The immediate reasons come to mind.  That rain is water falling from the sky.  It meets the ground and turn perfectly respectable dirt into mud.  That mud is churned up by horses hooves and turns into something resembling brownie batter but smelling much worse.  That you have visions of the uncomfortable act of falling off, not onto soft clean carefully maintained footing but the aforementioned brownie-batter-turned-plankton-incubation-nursery of the Western World.  Regular falling off is an ego-bruising experience.  Falling off into one foot deep brownie-batter-but-smelling-much-worse earth is a game changer.  I brought three complete outfits just in case.  Fortunately, I did not need to use them.

Hugh, Lindsey, and I braved the storms of the greater Sacramento area to attend the capital City Horse Show and Rudy Leone's Equestrian Center this week.  Hugh rode and schooled six horses, and slogged through classes Wednesday and Thursday.  I arrived Thursday to rain and thunder and rising water table.  Earth met the aquifer and was loosing ground.  Every hoof print became a spring, a font of water, a wallow, a stink hole.  I become less enamored with the place with every inch of precipitation.  But then, of course, I reminded myself, life begins with water, droughts are tough and, and finally, just get over it.

So we went to work.  All horses instantly became water masters.  Forging the large river just to get from our barn "N" to the schooling arenas was a challenge.  Princess, who does not like to get dirty, tried to place her feet on the least muddy ground available, but eventually accepted defeat.  Schooling over fences was like figure eighting over liverpools.  Getting in to the arena was a cross country challenge.  On our first round, Princess was so distracted that she barely saw the fences in time to jump.  Not a pretty sight.

On Sunday, I changed tact and assumed a "just get over it" attitude.  I told her: if Noah's arc was going to pick you up, it would have been here by now.  But until you see the gangway, please just do what I say.  Gallop through the mud and jump the jumps.  And so, for three rounds on Sunday, we did just that.  Adult Amateur 3 foot hunters, second, third and fifth places -- nice consistent rounds with no nonsense and no playing around.  There were no excuses for the unusual circumstances.  That was fun.

Other notables:  Capote competed in his first Hunter Derby.  He was probably knocked out of the ribbons by the famous "Capote Rap".  He knocked a rail so loud it was heard in Vacaville, it registered 1.9 on the Richter Scale.  Duncan McFarlan told Hugh he needed luck like that in the Grand Prix, being able to hit a rail that hard and not knock it down.  Lindsey and I blamed the mud.  See below for more mud details.  Summer horse shows are going to be a dream.

And here it is!