I had a great weekend riding in the outdoor arena.
That's right, folks. I rode in the outdoor arena. For realz. On my own horse and everything.
I just could not avoid the sunshine.
On Saturday we had a pretty great ride. Great because Walker was a semi-perfect gentleman. We did some mild trot and canter work, but mainly we just tried to ensure that he had his brain working. When I was done, we went for a walk a couple times around the barn and for a mini trail ride on our own. He got a bath and a nice roll and we were both happy.
On Sunday he reminded me why I dislike the outdoor arena.
We were bumbling along like we always do when I decided to ask him to canter.
Suddenly, people who were leaving the arena turned and watched us and actually said that he looked beautiful -
beautiful - because he was all collected and felt so great.
Then he bolted out of the arena. As I knew he would.
This was absolutely unacceptable, and when I tried to fight him back into the arena, he threatened some bad-tempered rears. So I got him yielding his hindquarters and made him work
outside the arena so that he didn't get the impression that this was a place he could escape work.
Rider 1, Walker 0
We went back into the arena where he promptly showed me just what he thought about all the other horses leaving us alone out there to work.
My barn owner has this theory that the trees on one edge of the arena help teach a horse to stay on the rail because if they get too close, the trees scratch them and remind them to stay in place. Walker likes to prove all of these theories wrong, so he bolted into the trees.
I literally had to climb into a tree to get off of him - INTO A TREE - so that I could somehow figure out how to back him out of the brambles.
Rider 1, Walker 1
The next time I was weary of the trees. That's no matter. Because there's also a mini cliff on the other edge of the arena. When I tried to get the better of him near the trees, he just ran over the cliff. HE RAN OVER A CLIFF. And fearing for both of our lives, I opted to bail.
Rider 1, Walker 2
By this point, I am livid, but mildly impressed with his creativity. I hop off, grab the lunge line, and lunge the bejesus out of him until he is sweating so hard that I expect him to have a coronary. Then I get back on.
Rider 2, Walker 2
We proceed to have a few more mini arguments because he is nothing if not persistent. So I stay away from all edges because the edges of the arena are the devil, and I force him to canter tiny tight circles over and over again until he has given up hope of escaping.
Rider 3, Walker 2
In my world, that's a successful weekend.
Then we both needed a nap.