Photo credit & source: Oli Scarff/Getty Images Europe
Leaving on a jet plane, but let’s hope for no rain…
Ok, enough with the rain. And the relevance of “No Rain”
The first title above was what I prepared to email John with my article, back in May, one day before my departure to cover The Mitsubishi Motors Badminton Horse Trials for Eventing Nation. If anyone told me five years ago that I’d be on a plane bound for the 2012 Badminton Horse Trials in England, I would have replied with my best Rodney Dangerfield impersonation, “what crime did the horses commit, and why are they playing racquet sports?” Seriously, that was the extent of my “Eventing” knowledge, in 2007. Now the 2012 Olympics approach, about two weeks away. What I’ve learned in five years…But what took me so long, and how did I overlook this sport, to begin with?
In years of off-and-on riding (I think we’re called “re-riders?”), I found myself at a small private farm in Northern Virginia where the owner needed barn help, in exchange for saddle time and instruction. She was English; her daughter a professional Event rider. Faster than you could say “William Fox-Pitt,” I was introduced to Eventing, and the rest is history. I crossed over, as they say, to the “dark” side. Since then, there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not reading about Eventing (thank you, Eventing Nation), thinking about Eventing, trying to squeeze in time to ride and train, and some day, compete. (Yep, done all three phases separately, in competition and for “fun,” but still waiting to do a recognized horse trial with a horse of my own). Until that happens, and my first horse comes along, I ride the horses no one wants to ride, or has time to ride. I lease, I catch ride any horse that will have me. I read incessantly, to make up for a childhood without the experience of Pony Club. I catch up on Eventing history: the legendary horses and riders of our sport. I attend clinics, competitions, watch lessons, fundraisers, and all sorts of activities in Area II. I volunteer at horse trials, and spend any free time I have to be with my Eventing friends. I write about Eventing. Sometimes I hear hushed whispers around the household, about an intervention (Wylie covered this quite well recently on Horse Nation), but I don’t think I’ve reached that point. Yet. (Did I mention I have a wonderfully-supportive husband and two fabulous kids?)
I don’t know about anyone else, but Eventing just feels “right” to me. I talk to Eventing folks, and we speak the same language. In addition to riding, in my younger years I intensely played rugby, climbed trees, enjoyed getting filthy, and on top of that, only wanted to spend more time around the barn. Nothing else. Now, when other horse friends (non-Eventers) ask me about it – the “it” being my new passion for Eventing – they say, “Are you insane? Why would you want to hurl yourself and your horse at those solid cross country fences? You LIKE dressage? At this time in your life, you’re a MOM; do you really think you should be doing this?” I can only think of one metaphor to help them understand the “special” frame of mind it takes for folks like us, Eventers from BNs to As, who embrace this sport.
Does anyone remember the band, “Blind Melon?” Back in the early 1990s (yikes, I date myself), my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I loved (and still love) our music. Blind Melon came out with a great song (albeit their only big hit), “No Rain.” Catchy and very hip for the grunge music style of the time, the brilliant music video to accompany the song featured a cute, freckled little girl, with thick glasses, dressed in a bumblebee costume, in tap shoes. She does her own thing, dancing in her own way, tapping on a stage, and then she dances all around town, only to be sadly misunderstood, not taken seriously, and quite frankly, out-of-place in the common crowd. No one gets her; no one gets her “thing.”
She’s not the best little dancer, not the most graceful (BNs out there, do you hear me? Don’t get discouraged!), but she dances with all she’s got. Disheartened, stockings torn, her costume soiled and askew, she slowly walks through a field, and comes up a hill. She sees a gate, opens it, and astonished, she finds a crowd of fellow “bumblebees.” Here are folks in various shapes and sizes, of all ages and dancing abilities, dressed just like her, dancing away. They don’t care how well you tap; they gleefully dance together in the field, happy to hang out with one another, doing the thing they love. They welcome her with open arms, into the “hive.” She found her “bumblebees!”
That is the best way I can explain what I’ve found in the Eventing community: beginner; getting-back-into-it-but-not-quite-there-yet-who-knows-what-level-I-am-this-week; advanced, whatever. The community doesn’t care. Eventers welcome you into the “hive,” and you always find a friend, support, and a place to dance/ride to your heart’s content. We laugh together, compete together, celebrate together, cry together, muck together, no matter what. I found my “bumblebees,” and I couldn’t be happier.
Back to Badminton, England, and the rain. I attended The Rolex Three Day Event in Lexington, Kentucky religiously for the past several years, and I was ecstatic to attend Badminton-even more so as a journalist. I grieved the cancellation. Too much rain? Seriously, in England? I can’t begin to imagine what the competitors felt.
"Welcome to Badminton..."
Rain. My heart was a brick in my chest. Picking myself off the floor, I called the airlines, rescheduled my departure date, repacked my suitcase, and still flew out to England (can you say “non-refundable?”). My hugely sympathetic horse husband and I paid our respects by going to Badminton village. (Confession: I justified it as “reconnaissance,” for next year’s trip…). It was eerily quiet, as though there had just been a death in the family. No one to be found in the village, every cottage closed and shuttered, the park entrance to the cross country course blocked. The Badminton Horse Trials office, lights off, door locked. There was a palpable sadness lingering in the air.
A quiet village that should have been busy...
I dodged big puddles (should have worn my Dubarrys!) and made my way through fresh mud, under a cruel rain-less sky, with sunshine peaking through the clouds. We even bumped into a cheerful English couple, who stood there with their tickets, happy to have by-passed the terrible crowds and traffic they heard about, but somewhat confused as to where everyone went. Somehow, they never got the message the event was canceled. I think the fact I was wearing breeches and boots (why? keep reading, more below…) made me the only horse person on the village street (or the only person on the street, apart from my husband, for that matter…) who could explain the bizarre silence. In the end, the horse trials never happened, but we chatted with them for a half hour, swapped contact info, and made new horse friends by going to Badminton! Again, Eventing folks, love them!
Where XC "would" have been...
Later that day, a stone’s throw from Badminton, I caught up with Eventing Nation’s own Guest Writer JER, who brilliantly made lemonade of lemons and suggested we all meet for what turned out to be a fantastic riding lesson at the famous Talland School of Equitation in Cirencester. (Yep, that’s what our kind does: if there is a will, a way, spare boots and helmets, horses to be ridden and a barn nearby, we laugh it off and we ride! Don’t ask what I pitched out of my suitcase in order to stay under the weight restriction, and pack my field boots!)
Mary B., riding at the Talland School of Equitation, in Cirencester, Gloucestershire
I returned to America the following week, at which time we heard from Colleen Rutledge-who was still in the UK-keeping us posted of the continued rain, rain, and did she mention, more rain? I think she said she feared Shiraz was growing fins. Fortunately, she wisely detoured to the 2012 Luhmühlen CCI4*, where she and the amazing Shiraz made us all proud by finishing 16th! (Woo, hoo! Go, Colleen and Shiraz, you rock!)
And so now, here we are, two and a half months later, with the Olympics a couple of weeks away and still, rain in the UK. The most recent horse trial canceled since Badminton was Gatcombe. Just to get an idea of how bad the rain has been, go to the British Eventing Calendar 2012 page and see the big black circles with the white “X,” to give you an idea of how many events for all the levels have been canceled this year, due to the unusually wet 2012. And when I say “wet” I mean REALLY wet. When the English say there’s been too much rain, they mean it, as I know from living outside of London, eons ago, sometime in the last century, from what my hazy memory recalls. Chatter on the forums and the internet hints of worries whether parts of England will match the underwater city of Atlantis, and whether Buckingham will be rechristened as Neptune’s palace. But, wait…hope lingers on the horizon. Encouraging news as of July 12th, from Pippa Cuckson of The Telegraph, who reported, assuredly: “Unlike Gatcombe Park, the Olympic Equestrian Competition Will Survive the Rain.”
Most of the equestrian teams are there (or en route, as I write this), and settling into their lodgings. Spectators will follow. It has been a rough paddle, getting to where the teams are today, but we’re all feeling confident the worst is behind us. As horse folk, we hold our collective breath and know from experience nothing is certain until the first horse enters the ring. Personally, being the ever-optimistic bumblebee, I know I look forward to following the Olympic Equestrian teams from across the pond, along with my “hive” of Eventing nuts. Whatever may happen, so “bee” it. (Alright, alright, I promise…enough with the bee metaphors.)
Go Eventing, go London 2012, and rain, rain, for now, please go away.
P.S. For now, I plan to pull another “Scarlett O’Hara,” think about my next set of plans tomorrow. Can’t think about them today. Hmmm, maybe Burghley in the fall? Let’s hope my husband doesn’t read this entry until later…And, 2013, perhaps look into booking Badminton, come what may? Buzz, buzz, buzz…..Now, go ride!
