Romeo's (and Ken's) trip to the

1999 Battle of the Breeds

After experiencing the Battle in '98 as a groom/owner/trailer jockey,

I decided for last year it was time to take the plunge and learn to

(gulp)

jump.

And so, for a good portion of the summer, I learned to do those things that I never thought

I'd need to learn. It made me a better rider, and gave me an appreciation of why you can refer to

some riders as athletes. Romeo, as usual, took it all in stride. Literally.

The Driving.

The first segment of the Battle we competed in was Precision Driving.

Since Romeo and I regularly drive, I anticipated no trouble in this event. As usual, he (and I ) were pretty keyed up for the show, but we had a great round and ended up placing 5th (team score).

We might have placed higher, but for one obstacle that I feel was physically impassable to our particular rig.

No sour grapes, just a sincere hope for a level playing field in 2000. Or, I need to borrow a sulky.

The Jumping.

I wrote of last year's Battle that I didn't think Spruce Meadows was really the right place to try Show Jumping for the first time. Well, guess what? We did.

In defence of my own sanity, we did train a lot for the show, and I did do a few hunter rounds at a show in Saskatoon. Nothing, however could have prepared me for what I was about to experience.

After the driving, we (Shawna graciously agreed to be my trainer this year, and I am in her debt) concentrated on getting my form right for the task ahead. I jumped my first 3'9" fence only a day before the class. I'd been in a 3'0" class at home, but boy do those extra nine inches make a difference.

In the warm-up ring just before the class, we had what was probably the best thing that could have happened...

My first high-speed ejection over a fence. Somehow, I had failed to notice that another trainer had widened and raised an Oxer I was approaching. I dismissed Shawna's shouted warnings to not take the jump as impatience in my taking too long to set up. Poor Romeo probably knew what was going to happen, but I didn't give him any choice.

We cleared the front rail.

Nailed the back rail. Hard.

Wiped out. Completely.

Luck was on our side...

Romeo fell to the right, I tumbled to the left. Two and a half gainer, I think.

People started shouting "Loose horse!", but most agreed that the 4' fence around the ring would keep him in.

They were wrong.

Mouths gaped as Romeo calmly trotted to the fence surrounding the ring and just as calmly... cleared it.

He took off at a dead run for the barns, with huge calks in his hind shoes, on asphalt.

I was able to flag down a Spruce employee, commandeer his golf cart, and chase Romeo down.

After making a quick repair to his breastplate, which had been damaged in the fall, we were off at a canter back to the warm-up ring (on the bridle path, not the pavement). We got back almost in time to go in next. Luckily the show officials decided to let us have a breather and go in last. The class itself was then, somehow, anticlimactic. Romeo was not even remotely interested in touching any more wood, I was not interested in landing that hard on terra firma.

We had an agreement.

We followed our planned route and went clear. That horse saved my ass over a couple of fences, and I blew a stirrup in the dash to the finish line, but we made it.

Then, the choice.

Do we attempt the 100 point fence?

3'6", single vertical fence. Make it, and you add 100 points to your score. Take a rail (or worse),

and 100 points are subtracted from your score.

Our choice?

What do you think?

There was never even really a choice. We came to play.

We always come to play.

Had I known that Romeo had tossed a tossed shoe on course, it might have been a different story, but I never looked,

and he didn't mention it.

We said yes, got the whistle, and headed for the jump. The strategy was to take the jump at a slight angle, just in case we rubbed a rail on the way over. Maybe that way it would get pushed into the cup, and not fall.

We approached at an easy canter, swung out a bit to the right...

Nope, no good...

Swung to the left...

Not much better...

No time...

No distance left...

Gulp...

Up...

Front feet over...

Back feet over?

Yes?

Yes!