A little about me

I, like so many of you, have been in love with horses since I was a little girl.

I could outdraw my mom at age 4.

And just about all those doodles were horses.

My uncle was a showjumper who owned and leased some pretty nice Thoroughbreds.  My first ride was in front of him in the saddle, on his leased mare, dam of his jumper, Top Secret.  I was 3.

I was hooked.

For as long as I could remember, when in the backseat of my parent's car, I used to imagine I was outside, racing a fast horse along the car.  Jumping over any fence that got in our way.

Unfortunately for me, aside from my uncle I was the only one in my family bitten by the horse bug.  I saved all my birthday money and started in English lessons when I was 9.  At 10, I met my dear friend Mo, who was horse nutty like me.  She lived out of town and had several horses.

I remember so clearly packing up sandwiches in her old saddlebags, running down to the barn, and riding the horses all day.  We meandered through the creek, over slippery meadows and up logging roads.  We were gone for hours at a time.  It was heaven.  It was also my introduction to how sweet the quarter horse could be, and how unpredictable the mustang could be.

I took lessons weekly with several instructors and trainers for many years, and I learned the basics of huntseat, dressage, and jumping.  All my lesson horses were Arabians, and when I began riding, most were 6 or 7 years old.  Seems like I fell off weekly.  They would spook so rapidly, it was all I could do to stay in the saddle.  But I learned the art of velcro-butt, and the emergency dismount.  I learned a lot in those years.  Maybe the most valuable lesson I learned was to be light.

Arabians don't trouble with a heavy hand or a heavy leg.  They just dump you.  And I love them for that.

I showed in the IHSA circuit for two years in college, and that was a great experience.  Showing a horse you've never ridden taught me to be a quick study.  You had about 4 seconds to figure them out on the way into the ring.

There I rode warmbloods, quarter horses, paints, polo ponies, green horses, and broncos.  I even showed in a western class when we were short a person.

It was my first introduction to western riding.

When I was in my last year of college, I adopted my first horse, Baskovia.  I called him Ben.  He was 21 at the time, the same age as me.  He was a lost prince.  I had him for five wonderful years.  Part of my heart went with him the day I laid him to rest.

He was an ex-English Pleasure horse, and I doubt he'd ever seen a trail before he was mine.  He was fearless in the woods, and I rode him all over the place.  As long as we had each other, he would go anywhere.

In 2007, I brought home my filly, Chevelle.  Ben loved her and finally had a companion with him in the pasture.  She loved him and was always gentle and kind to him, though she was only 2, she was already nearly twice his size.

I began working with Chev when she turned 3 in 2008.

It was obvious her desire was to be a western pleasure horse.  I was able to get some excellent western instruction from a trainer who worked briefly with Chev in 2010.

I moved her with me halfway across the country in 2011, to Wyoming.  I'm continuing her physical training by myself, but I know enough to know I don't know much at all--and I rely heavily on books, other horsemen, and horsemanship theory that has been passed down through the years.

I look forward to every day of our journey together.  And she is turning in to a handy little horse, in spite of me.