Well, I’m extremely pleased to write that that’s exactly what’s happened. Kevin announced last week that the USEA (www.useventing.com) and the U.S. Equestrian Federation (www.usef.org) have created the new USEA Classic Three-Day Event Series, incorporating the 12 current T3Ds and the four remaining preliminary three-day events (or P3Ds). The first, at Rebecca Farm in Montana, ran last weekend. Unfortunately, only three horses started, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

The small field may be symptomatic of the economy (Kalispell, Mont., is a long, long way from 98% of U.S. eventers) and may also be symptomatic of one shortcoming of the Classic Series plan: The P3D doesn’t count as a qualifying event for the FEI-sanctioned CCI2* events around the country. That’s an unavoidable result of the money we save (about $500) by not having to have FEI passports for the horses or FEI licenses for the riders.

You might be wondering why a committed cadre of us has spent the last five or six years erecting barricades and fighting skirmishes. Well, the answer is that we think the classic-format three-day event is one of the most educational and exciting things you can do with your horse. The difference between a regular event, or horse trial, and a three-day event is the second day, speed-and-endurance day. In a regular horse trial (even if it’s held over three days, as almost all horse trials west of the Mississippi are because of the distances competitors drive to get there), the second day is one phase, a course of cross-country jumps. In a three-day event, the second day has four phases: phase A is the first roads and tracks (about 15 minutes of trotting), phase B is the steeplechase (depending on the level 1 ½ to four minutes of fast galloping over four to eight brush fences), and phase C is the second roads and tracks (20 to 30 minutes of walking and trotting).

Phases A, B and C run without stopping. At the end of phase C, horses enter the 10-minute or vet box, where the rider and grooms cool and refresh the horse while veterinarians monitor the horse’s soundness and vital signs to be sure he’s ready to continue on to phase D, the cross-country. The cross-country course for the three-day event is also half a mile to a mile longer than for a horse trial at the same level.

Why is it educational? Because in preparing for the combination of speed-and-endurance day, along with dressage and show jumping, riders begin to learn how to get their horses truly fit. Because by achieving that fitness and by completing the roads and tracks and steeplechase phases, horses reach the start of cross-country fully prepared and fully warmed up for the challenges ahead. And they, therefore, usually attack the course in a confident, relaxed manner. Honestly, it’s almost a surreal experience.

Where will the classic series go from here? Well, some of us hope that the classic format will return to the intermediate and advanced levels, that the demand from riders will allow organizers to create a parallel track to the FEI-sanctioned, short-format events. But even if that doesn’t happen in our lifetimes, having classic three-day events will make their contribution to horsemanship and provide about 90 percent of the USEA’s members with great goals and memorable accomplishments.

And some of us will be pleased that, like our forefathers almost 240 years ago, we separated from Europe (the FEI) to successfully form our own “more perfect union,” as our U.S. Constitution promises, although this union is between us and our horses.


Having placed in two long-format three-day events, Merlin's enthusiasm for cross-country was  obvious.

In the meantime, I’m truly enjoying the horses that I’m lucky enough to own and to work with right now. I wrote about Sisko and Alba a couple of weeks ago, and last week I had a fabulous jumping school with Sisko. I set up some pretty demanding gymnastics that he just cruised over as if they were nothing, almost nonchalant. He made me smile all day. And over the weekend I took a jumping lesson on Alba, who actually jumped at home like a normal horse—no bolting or charging at the jumps. Maybe we’ve really turned the corner?

And yesterday we set up a jumping chute for some of our babies. The primary reason was that we’re preparing a 3-year-old Oldenburg stallion named Panzyr for his approval inspection next month. (We own his first foal, named Piper, or Phoenix Promiscuous, because Panzyr jumped into a field to breed his dam while only 2.) A requirement of the inspection is to free-jump 4’6”, so we set up the chute to practice and for his owner to see the jumping ability I’d been feeling.

I’d jump schooled Panzyr three times in the last few weeks, and those sessions had been pretty exciting (in a good way). He’d shown me bravery, enthusiasm and tremendous power, and schooling him in the chute displayed those qualities and more. We’d sent him down the jumping chute once or twice last fall, and he clearly remembered the exercise and got right to it. And he leaped like a star, powering over the three jumps, especially the oxer at the end. We built that up to 4 feet, and the fact that he easily cleared it by a foot erased any doubt any of us may have harbored about his scope.

But Panzyr wasn’t the only one who brought smiles to all our faces that day. Two years ago at this time we were nursing our filly Amani because her dam, Gussie Up, died of colic 12 hours after giving birth. I started Amani in light work about a month ago, either longeing or ponying her three days a week. We figured that, since we had the chute set up, we’d send Amani down it to see if she had the natural affinity for jumping of her sire, Formula One. Amani has matured into the light work I’ve done with her beautifully and displayed power, balance and desire as I’ve ponied her around the countryside, but we thought we’d give her a little test to see if the hopes and dreams we’ve placed upon her really are justified.

Yes, she loves to jump. And, yes, we can keep dreaming about her and her future. While Panzyr’s jumping strength is his impressive power, Amani’s is her ease and grace in the air. She just glides into the air like a deer, with only the slightest hesitation the first time she went through the chute.

In this very busy summer, full of worry for my wife’s health and our child’s future, riding and working with these horses is a tonic. I’m so glad to have “a good 2-year-old in the barn,” along with a 3-year-old and more.

I’m smiling right now.



(Left) Amani took to jumping right away, just as we've always hoped. (Right) Yes, Panzyr proved he has the scope he needs.

For the last three years, I’ve been a member of the Board of Directors and the Executive Committee of the Equestrian Land Conservation Resource (www.elcr.org), an organization I’m very proud to be a part of because for more than 25 years I’ve been writing about and been involved in land conservation, especially for horses. (For more on this subject, please read my book.) As you may recall, when I started writing this blog I promised I’d be discussing land conservation periodically, and I’d thought now was the time to write about the threat that unplanned, unchecked development poses to our horse sports and to just keeping and feeding our horses.

And then I read Cindy’s first blog (posted last week)—and discovered that she’d given me a great introduction. Her experience is all too typical—loss of trails and other riding space, loss of privacy, increased traffic and its inherent dangers, and more. One thing she didn’t mention is that in New York State (where she lives), those developments that now surround her farm have also probably destroyed some prime hay-growing country, meaning there’s now less of that vital equine food source to go around.

These are issues and problems all of us who own and ride horses face, no matter what state we live in and no matter what we do with our horses. Obviously, land-dependent sports like foxhunting, eventing, steeplechasing, endurance riding and driving are more dramatically affected that arena-centered sports, but I promise you that every single person who owns a horse feels the pinch when a 100-horse stable is sold to become a Wal-Mart or a 500-acre hay farm is sold to become a 1,500-house development. According to the Land Trust Alliance, 6,000 acres of U.S. land was being develop every single day before the real estate and credit bubble burst. It’s probably half that now, but 3,000 acres means that three Kentucky Horse Parks are being plowed under every single day. Frightening, huh?

That’s why some farsighted leaders of the U.S. Pony Clubs founded the ELCR in 1998. They realized that, unless somebody started to do something, in a generation kids in Pony Club and riders everywhere would be confined to suburban rings forever. So they founded the only national organization devoted to saving land for horses to live, eat and be ridden.

It’s been an uphill struggle to be heard. Until just the last two or three years, we were voices screaming from the wilderness, prophets foretelling a future no one wanted to hear, or noisy busybodies distracting from their tasks people who were busy riding or running sports organizations. Besides, if we were right, surely someone else was going to take care of the problem, right? Well, as this first decade of the 21st century proceeded and the housing bubble grew and grew and grew (before it burst), people began to really see that we prophets weren’t just tearfully screaming, “The sky is falling, the sky is falling.” We were right, and we were offering strategies to combat it.

Perhaps the best evidence is that our Equestrian Partners program has quadrupled in size over the last three years. This program is open to equestrian organizations and businesses, offering them special assistance with their land-use efforts in exchange for an annual donation. We now have more than 130 Equestrian Partners, with more than 1 million members—a substantial number of constituents by any reckoning. Our partners include the American Endurance Ride Conference, National Park Service, American Saddle Horse Association, Kentucky Thoroughbred Owners and Breeders Association, U.S. Dressage Federation, American Association of Equine Practitioners, American Quarter Horse Association, U.S. Eventing Association, Masters of Foxhounds Association, American Morgan Horse Association, American Driving Society, and the U.S. Pony Clubs.

What do we do at ELCR? Our primary mission is to educate horse people about the crisis and bring them together with experienced conservationists to stem this serious loss. Our many programs include providing information and resources to horsemen on these topics:
    o Land-conservation tools (farm conservation easements and restrictions, trail easements, purchase or transfer of development rights)
    o Community land-use planning and zoning practices
    o Trail access, connectivity and shared use
    o Equine economic development
    o Land and trail stewardship management practices
    o Liability issues
 
We’ve worked with a variety of riding groups around the country to help them save their riding areas, and we’ve helped scores of landowners get in touch with horse-friendly land trusts and other conservation organizations in their areas to create conservation easements or other restrictions to protect land. Our dedicated staff at the Kentucky Horse Park and our board members also serve as a clearinghouse for information, networks and resources about land and access protection. And Deb Balliet, our dynamic chief executive officer, and officers or board members also spend a great deal of time talking to horse people—formally at conferences or conventions, or informally on the phone, the Internet or in person—about equestrian land conservation. We probably spend the most time simply educating people about the issue and what we can do as individuals.

Our motto is “Where will you ride tomorrow?” But we add, “Where will you keep your horse, and where will farmers grow hay, tomorrow?” Do you know? We at ELCR can help make sure there will be a vital equestrian tomorrow.




The look of the future—or will it be even worse?



Olympic silver medalist Gina Miles (seated) joined ELCR President Nancy Winter (left) and John Strassburger to sign autographs in support of ELCR at the Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event in April.

I like to say that you can learn something from or about horses every day if you watch and listen, and that was certainly the case last weekend, when we drove 600 miles north, to the Inavale Farm Horse Trials in Philomath, Ore., with five horses from our farm. Two of them were my own horses I’m currently competing at training level, and three were students competing at the training, novice and beginner novice levels.

I especially learned something from three of them. The first was with my little mare Alba, a chestnut Quarter Horse who stands about 15.2 hands. She arrived at our farm last Sept. 1, with her owner proclaiming her as crazy—but wanting us to sell her for him! We said OK because she gave no sign that she was crazy. Well, he only paid us for one month’s board/training, and then we never heard from him again.  So she became legally ours in December, which seemed a mixed blessing.

Alba’s two previous career attempts had been at Quarter Horse racing and barrel racing, so all she knew was “go 20 seconds as fast as you can!” And I think she couldn’t handle that pressure, especially as the owner’s daughter (who barrel raced her) is an inexperienced teenager. I suspect their mutual anxiety fed back on itself. The big challenge with her has been convincing her to relax and wait, to convince her that dressage and the jumping phases take a good deal longer than 20 seconds.

She took to jumping with tremendous enthusiasm. Actually, too much enthusiasm, but always showing that she had exceptional scope over fences, especially for her diminutive size. I started her at beginner novice in March, and she finished seventh on her dressage score. I then took her novice in April, and she finished seventh again, only adding 4 penalties for one rail down in show jumping (despite basically running away with me on course). In May I moved her up to training when my other horse, Sisko, abscessed right before an event. I wasn’t sure it was the right decision, but she jumped fabulously until I steered her over an incorrect fence on cross-country and was eliminated.

Alba has been showing signs that she was starting to relax and wait, but I still didn’t know how she’d be at Inavale. Well, it began promisingly in dressage, where she was the most relaxed and rideable she’s ever been. I could actually ride her like a normal horse, and we weren’t last! And I knew on Saturday while warming her up for cross-country that she was a different horse, relaxed and waiting, instead of charging the jumps with her ears in my face. She went out on course and jumped every fence better than the one before, giving me a fabulous ride. And on Sunday she jumped calmly and faultlessly too. I was so thrilled and proud of her.

What had changed? Well, I’d like to believe 10 months of work is starting to pay off, but I think what pushed up to the top of the mountain (metaphorically speaking) was that we’d changed her grain two weeks earlier, something we’d been pondering for some time. We switched her (and her pasture mates) from LMF Performance (a high-protein, high-carbohydrate mix) to Bar Ale Low Carb and LMF Super Supplement, a combination we’ve had great success with. Plus we added papaya pills to Alba’s diet. I think she either had mild ulcers and/or the high-protein and high-carbohydrate was driving her wild. So what I learned from Alba, besides that she really is my little “pocket rocket,” is that diet can make a difference.

We made the same switch with Sisko a year ago, after Dougie Hannum, the equine therapist I interviewed for the Horse Journal last winter, worked on Sisko for the first time at Inavale and told me, “You know this horse has ulcers. Put him on the low carb and papaya pills.”

Last year’s Inavale event was Sisko’s first start ever, and he did poorly on the trip (although he ran very well) and was skin and bones when we got back. But, after changing his diet, within six weeks he’d gain easily 100 pounds and has eaten well at every competition since then. But that’s what I learned last year with Sisko.

Last year he also slipped several times on the grass footing of all three phases (something he’s not used as he raced on groomed tracks and all our California courses are on prepared dirt/loam surfaces), so I had our farrier drill holes in his hind shoes for studs this time. Well, I should have used front studs too (which I don’t like to use unless really necessary) because he didn’t jump with his usual dash and aplomb. The reason was that he’s a careful horse, and he just didn’t feel confident in the last stride or two and was uncertain about leaving the ground.

But I feel like I looked into his heart last weekend, that he proved to me that he really does have the courage, guts and try I’ve always hoped he had. He jumped clear on cross-country, despite making a horrible mistake at the biggest fence on the course and somehow, miraculously, recovering and avoiding a fall. And then he jumped willingly through the bank-and-water combination that was the very next fence. I could feel him say, “OK, Dad, that last one didn’t feel very good, but I’ll keep going, I’ll do it.” A lot of horses would have fallen or then stopped at the next fence, but he kept looking for the next fence and kept fighting for me.

Neither cross-country nor show jumping were the kind of rounds that you feel elated after (unlike Alba’s rounds), but they were the kind of rounds after which patted him on the neck and rubbed his head and said, “Good boy. Thanks for trying so hard.” I was almost as proud of Sisko as I was of Alba. I really feel like I learned something wonderful about him.

The third horse was one of our student’s horses, Clifford. His owner, Brinda, brought him to train with us in February, having been eliminated in her last three starts with Clifford and feeling rather frustrated. What I quickly discovered in riding Clifford (who, like the cartoon dog with the same name, is a big red horse) was that he didn’t know how to go truly forward (physically or mentally) and that no one had ever really taught him HOW to jump. It appeared that they’d just cantered (or galloped) him at jumps, offering no useful instructions. He didn’t know what to do, it wasn’t fun at all, and so he stopped. He was saying that he didn’t want to play the game.

So we went back to basics with Clifford, and with Brinda. I rode him at novice-level at an event in May, and he jumped perfectly clear in both phases. We had Brinda start again at beginner novice at Inavale, and they won the dressage and added no further penalties to bring home the blue ribbon. She was ecstatic about how relaxed and confident Clifford felt, and I was very proud of both of them. They’ll move up to novice next month.

What did Clifford remind me? The importance of “forward,” of riding forward and doing it with a confident, positive attitude or energy. He also confirmed what I’ve always believed: That you have to take your time, that you must be certain that the horse (and rider) understand their jobs and have the skills they need. And all three reminded me that, at some point, you and the horse have to just go and do it, because that’s how you learn even more.