Ema Klugman and Bronte Beach. Photo by Abby Powell.
A couple of months ago, I competed in the Arena Eventing class at the Devon Horse Show. It is always a privilege to ride in the storied Dixon Oval, and I try to target the class each year if I have a horse or two who is qualified to do it.
This year, I took two greener horses: RF Redfern, who recently stepped up to 4*, and Slieve Callan Alpha, who just did his first couple of Intermediates. Neither of them had done the class before, but I thought that if I rode them well, they could be competitive, and even if they made mistakes, I would learn about them through the experience. The class is unique in that it is a mix of cross country and show jumps between two large arenas. There is no terrain, but there are lots of tight turns and related distances.
I asked Mary Lisa Leffler, who occasionally helps me out in the show jumping, if she could coach me in the class. I knew she would be at Devon anyway, and I thought that maybe she would give me some useful tips, especially in the jump-off. She has won dozens of Grand Prix, but to my knowledge she has never done any eventing. Needless to say, when we got to the crazy angled jumps and skinnies, she basically told me: ride these like you do in eventing. She, wisely, did not want to mess me up for the parts of the course I already knew how to ride. She gave me useful pointers on riding the show jumps, and also noted places in the first round where I could save some time.
The plan we hatched when walking the course proved to work: both of my horses were clear in the first round and qualified for the jump-off. We had the opportunity to walk the jump-off again, so I headed back into the arena with Mary Lisa to find the tightest lines.
Near the end of the jump-off track, there was a long gallop from one end of the arena to the other. Mary Lisa turned to me and said, straight-faced, “can you gallop and shorten your reins at the same time?”. I had never thought about it. I replied, “yes, I think so.”
“Good,” she said. Her point was that in order to be competitive, I needed to recover from the prior fence and make up time simultaneously. I couldn’t do one thing, and then the next: I needed to multitask. And this was a race: fastest wins at Devon, and if you waste time, you can go from competitive to mid-pack in about half a second.
The plan didn’t quite come off when I came back on my first horse. Slieve Callan Alpha, who we call “Blizzard” in the barn, had an awkward jump at the beginning of the course when I mis-rode a skinny, and I found myself with not only long reins but only one stirrup for the majority of the rest of the course. Needless to say, I was in survival mode rather than competitive mode. He was a very good boy to finish clear, but we were not fast. (He ended up finishing in eighth place nonetheless.)
Back for a second time, I was determined to be more accurate, smoother, and faster. RF Redfern, known affectionately as “Fern” to her friends, really seemed to eat up the crowds in the first round, and I was hopeful that she would be competitive in the jump-off. She felt quite good in the warm-up area. I jumped one bigger vertical in the final stages of my warm-up, and she overjumped it. I know she is a horse who thrives on confidence, so I had my team lower it by three holes, and I jumped it again to ensure she was happy and not feeling too tested prior to going in. Then we were ready to go.
Sometimes when you have a good round on a horse, you don’t remember the details all that well -— you just remember the feeling. When I got to that section of the course with the long gallop up the middle of the arena, I promptly galloped and shortened my reins, as instructed. Fern was with me, and I was with her. It was a great feeling to be clear and fast, and to have the support of the crowd all the way through the finish line. I gave my mare a pat and told her she was a genius.
In the end, we were fifth in the class. Hopefully one day before I’m too old, I’ll win it! But more than the result, I was happy with our partnership. The course at Devon can feel like you’re in a tumble-dryer, and maintaining a connection with your course throughout the whole thing is really special.
I have been writing this little column for Eventing Nation for a few years now. My articles have been rather sporadic at times, but I have enjoyed sharing my experiences of being a top-level eventer and a “baby lawyer” with you as my audience. I’m now entering my final (!) year of law school, and I recently accepted a clerkship for a judge in DC following graduation. All of the things are somehow fitting in, although sometimes I wonder how I’ll keep juggling them as I enter my professional (non-horse) career.
Like a magical round on a magical horse, all of this feels like it’s happening at once fast and slow. I’m trying to remember that to be competitive, sometimes you have to gallop and shorten your reins at the same time, ever-ready for the next hairpin turn.
