Creative Dismounts: Arlene’s Story

From Arlene of Grey Horse Matters

This may not be the most entertaining one you may receive (Jane: uh-huh…don’t listen: modesty.), but even though I’ve had some interesting dismounts, the following one is probably the one where I hoped no one was actually watching – because if I had been watching I would have been doubled over in laughter.

The day before I was to take Erik, my  17.2 hand Dutch Warmblood, to one of our first shows, a schooling lesson was in order to fine-tune him and me.  The outside arena was visibly under slushy mud conditions with puddles galore from previous rainstorms.  Are you starting to get the picture yet?

We were cantering to the wishing well jump (wishing wells on either side with a gate in the center).  Perfect stride…perfect distance…in two point ready to take the jump…horse puts in an extra half step…whoops, that didn’t work!

I went over his head…over the jump…he followed…missed me…whew….thank god I’ve still got the reins in my hand…wonder how that happened.  NO!  Erik…stop!  You’re done.  Good boy…stoooooppp!

So yes, in fact I found myself dragged through the mud on my stomach…mud encrusted way down inside my full-length chaps, my unmentionables, an let’s just say I had mud in places that had never seen a mud pack previously, and leave it at that.

I looked like a marsh monster reemerging from the swamp.

At least as I slithered through the mud, head held high, I wasn’t the recipient of a muck and mire facial.  Finally, the brilliant idea of ‘gee why don’t you let go of the reins, moron’, ricocheted around inside my brain like a pinball machine until it hit TILT, and I let go of my iron grip on the reins.  There I was in all my glory: mud from neck to toe, but I had managed to hold my head up the whole time I was towed along behind my horse.

So proud of myself for that one.  It was the least I could do to save face, literally.

Not a comfy ride home as I recall, either.  Kind of squishy.

5 thoughts on “Creative Dismounts: Arlene’s Story

  1. I had a recent creative dismount that was similar. There was no mud involved, but my sweet, sweet Holly who never, EVER refuses a jump, well, refused a jump. So, I went over without her. I didn’t let go of the reins either, so she just turned around and stared down at me until my embarrassment and searing backside subsided. This also occurred the night before a show while schooling. Sigh.


  2. Um… Jane… how’s the data coming along on laughter at work causing increased productivity? I’m afraid this one caused some more snorting and giggling from my office and eye brows may be raising in the hallways….

    1. Fail proof explanation: maxing out on billable hours makes you giggle and snort like a hyena. Partner in no time.

      I expect (somewhat panicky) erratic laughter will start erupting from random offices in an effort to prove they are maxing out on billable hours too.

  3. This could possibly be the beginning of a new sport – mudjoring. I can see it. Reminds me of the time I was dragged down the street by a labrador retriever named “Peace”.

    Each and every time I fell off and tried to keep a hold of the reins, I ended up in worse shape than when I tried to dive for a bush (apparently from Daisy’s story, that’s an emergency dismount!).

    Appreciate the story sharing, Arlene. And Jane – this is a great series – it’s nice to know I’m not the only one who has tripped up, bailed out, slipped down, and gotten caught at an inopportune moment on the way to solid ground!

    1. *mudjoring*
      Has a nice ring to it! Though I think I’d be cheering you all on from the sidelines. Unless there was a fancy spa with warm mud involved?

      Oh wait, I can already do that here. Spa in the next valley over where they pack you in warm mud and then hose you off before you soak in the mineral pools. There’s some advantage to living in CA wine country.

      It is a great series, wish I could take credit, but it’s really you guys who are making it so much fun. (loud clapping and whistling!)

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