The first trip to Rolex was a magical experience for many of us: inspiration, awe, and hope. Then it becomes something like a religious pilgrimage, as eventers and horse lovers alike descend upon Lexington, KY each spring. Amy Wells was the first reader to send us her impressions of that first Rolex; today, Sally Spickard shares her revelation. Thank you for writing, Sally, and thank you for reading. If you have a Rolex story to share, please send it to [email protected].
What Rolex Means to Me
by Sally Spickard
I remember my first Rolex. I was 15 and a sophomore in high school, and two friends from the barn invited me to go with them. I am not sure that I knew what eventing was at the time, but it involved a weekend with no parents and lots of horses so, obviously, I was game! I was hooked from the start. Coming from the hunter/jumper and equitation realm, this was a completely foreign environment for me – apparently there was life outside the hunter ring! This was when the long format was still in effect, and I will never forget the image of Karen O’Connor galloping Prince Panache on steeplechase. I fell in love with Gina Miles’ horse, McKinlaigh, and to this day I promise you I have never seen as beautiful a liver chestnut as that horse, except maybe Arthur. I have a love and respect for every aspect of equine sports, but never have I experienced the sheer goosebumps that accompany watching a cross country course. The partnership that an event rider has with his or her horse is something that is unmatched, and this is something that I wanted to experience.
I was not one of those fearless teenagers who thought they were invincible, which is the type of person I always associated with eventing. I dabbled in some local events when I was in high school, but I was never fortunate to have a horse that made me feel confident on cross country. After a few hairy incidents, including but not limited to knocking my throat so hard on my mare’s neck due to her goat leaping a coop that I lost my voice, I found myself questioning if this sport was right for me. But I attended Rolex the next year as well and couldn’t shake the feeling that this was MY sport. I felt an attachment to the sport that I had never felt before, and I knew that I needed to set the bar high and find a way to compete there at some point in my life.
Fast forward several years, and I find myself preparing for what has now become my annual pilgrimage to Kentucky. For me, it’s an educational experience. I call myself a student of the sport because I am. I devour every word on Eventing Nation, I’ve appointed Denny Emerson as my guru even though he may not know it, I pore over videos from various events around the world and study positions and techniques. For me, Rolex, or I guess I should say eventing, is a way of life.
Recently, I lost just about everything that meant anything to me, and all due to my own poor decisions and lack of responsibility. A very large part of those losses was my horse. My horse came to me quite randomly and without much pomp and circumstance. Rather, it was an opportunity to ride something while I was between lease rides. He had just recovered from a lengthy bout of strangles, and he was skinny and scrawny and in bad need of a mane pull, so he wasn’t much to look at. My first ride on him was very lackluster, and I couldn’t help but internally curse my trainer (who I’m sure is reading this as we speak) for putting me on a project horse when I wasn’t sure that a project was something I wanted. But I kept at it, grateful for the opportunity this afforded me to learn about training and conditioning a horse almost from scratch. After a few months, his energy and fitness was renewed and his personality began to shine. Before I knew it, I would see him pop his head out of his window when he heard my car and whinny for me. That horse was everything to me, even though I knew that he may not be a Prelim+ horse for me in the future. I took him to his first baby event (which he rocked and won on his dressage score) and had big plans for this show season. However, I fell onto some very difficult financial times and as everything snowballed, I saw everything I loved and had worked for melting away. He is still very well cared for (fat, from what I hear!), which was the only thing I wished for, but he is no longer a horse I can call my own and my heart breaks every time I tell myself that.
I approach this year with renewed energy and motivation, though. I read stories of people like Jessica Bortner-Harris, who produced her OTTB from a 4 year old to become her Advanced horse, and find that eventing truly is my sport. Eventing is a sport in which you can create your own destiny. Yes, as with all disciplines, it is beneficial to have sponsors and buckets of money, but the grass roots that are evident even at the highest level are so inspiring (I mean, those carrots I bought to help send Henny to Badminton made me feel so cool!), and the attitude of each and every event rider, famous or not, is something that anyone can learn from.
I have very high ambitions for myself, and while I find myself not in a position to achieve them at the moment, I have a plan that includes a big move East to Eventing Mecca. In the meantime, you can find me on the cross country course, studying my idols and fine tuning my plans for the day when I will finally hear “5..4..3..2..1.. have a great ride!” coming out of that fabled start box in Kentucky.
