Alida Stander talks about her horse, her experiences of riding as a child and how she took up riding again at the age of, well, when she was older. ..................

Greetings from South Africa.

I am a full time secretary, part time writer and life long student of horses. I am quite green when it comes to riding, having only taken lessons for about two-years and have only recently become a half-owner of a lovely percheron cross with a few personality quirks that keeps me sitting up straight, my heels down and my mind awake.

My idea of "accomplished riding" includes not being attacked by the mounting block, managing to cinch up that girth strap that keeps shrinking, or putting together my bridle! Olympics and World Championships will be avidly followed on TV and recorded, so that we can watch it over and over again and hopefully by some sort of osmosis, absorb some of that grace and beauty and skill that might ooze from their glove-clad fingertips

Left is a picture of my daughter (8yrs old) on the school pony Apollo (around 18yrs old). She looks like me - just (a lot) smaller. and this little horse has taught hundreds of children to ride, has a beautiful rhythmic canter and jumps anything you point him at, but on a bad day can deposit even an advanced rider bum first into the sand arena with a well timed buck. The younger/less experienced the rider, the less likely he is to get up to his nonsense. But more advanced riders have their skills tested& whenever he decides that they think too much of themselves. My daughter found that out the hard way just a week ago when she got deposited on the ground. No injuries except some minor contusions to her ego. :-) She is very much in contention for the Olympics - in about 20 years time!

I've always loved horses since I can remember. I owned a young 18month old stallion named Twister when I was in my twenties (that was before I learned to ride, please note). Green horse + green rider = injuries, so NOT a good idea! I got a broken wrist for my efforts, many falls and lots of trodden toes. I actually didn't ride him that much. Did more of a "dirt slalom" behind him as I got dragged through the vegetable garden. It was only after I pulled him through a bout of colic that he actually seemed to decide that I was someone to like and trust.

I trained him on voice commands and did plenty of groundwork as I knew that I was too heavy to back him myself, and my riding skills were limited to a walk and a jostling trot learned at the nearby riding school while I was doing groundwork with him. We did plenty of hacking out (i.e. me walking with feed bucket and halter to go and fetch him from the pretty fillies grazing down the road).

I didn't know that much back then, and he was just over two when I put a saddle on him (big old western thing that scared the living daylights out of him until he found the carrots hidden in all the flaps). With patience, and time, I eventually "graduated" to riding him around our five-acre plot at a walk, which we both felt comfortable with, and later on did a little bit of trotting. Unfortunately he died shortly after from African Horse sickness. I was grief stricken and decided I wouldn't ride again.

My daughter was born, then my son, and horses were pretty to look at, but not for me to ride. Then my daughter started with riding lessons at her nursery school, and loved it. When she went to "big school", we had to go to the yard on a Saturday so she could continue with her lessons, and my husband, knowing me better than I know myself, saw that I was interested in more than just being a spectator. It was not long after that I agreed to "one lesson only", on a placid old schoolmaster called Charlie. I got on him, me aged 35, and asked the instructor if he thought the horse would mind me hurling on& its head. I was terrified! Ricus said he might just spook, so rather not....

I managed a walk that first day, on the lead rein. No vomiting. And I signed up for a lesson a week. Trotted by the third week. Took me 6 months to be brave enough to canter. But I was happy to do lots of trotting. Well, if you can imagine a butcher doing brain surgery, I guess you can call that bouncing about "trotting". But with patience (from Ricus and from old Charlie) they taught me to relax, to feel the rhythm, to enjoy the experience. And with gentle reminders that I did indeed need to breathe, I became hooked on horse once again.

December 2009 our yard hosted a little Christmas show. I managed a very respectable 2nd place in the novice equitation on my half bait horse, Big Chester. The fact that most of my fellow competitors haven't hit puberty yet did nothing to diminish my absolute joy at me and Big Chester surviving the flesh-eating umbrellas, predatory folding chairs and horse-hungry PA-system that threatened to derail the poor chap.

So I can do the basic things, have ventured forth into the scary jumping arena and managed a clear round of terrifyingly large jumps (40cm...)

Chester is 18 years old and I was presented the opportunity about six-months ago to half bait (or perhaps you might know the term half lease?) him, after old Charlie passed away. He has a few trust issues: sometimes resembles a steam train thundering across the arena with his nose on his chest, doesn't like me fiddling around his ears, seems to take joy in walking backwards whenever I try to mount from the mounting block, and he has a very strong personality, but he's my boy and I love him. Cold drink crates are infested with ghosts and ghouls and is not tolerated. Especially orange ones!

He is his own herd, and tolerates the other horses around him - to an extent. He loves carrots, apples, sweet potato, watermelon, bread - given one treat at a time and in small quantities of course, much to his disappointment, and his huge percheron head frisks me for more treats that MUST be hidden somewhere on my person. But he doesn't know that he is big. He is a real softie actually, and my 8-year- old daughter rides him with ease, with only an "apple" bit in his mouth (plastic straight bar and green - apparently has an apple flavour, but I haven't gone as far as sticking it in my mouth for a taste). And he is a perfect gentleman even when my 5-year- old son walks right up to him to stand between his front legs. Chester then arches his neck this way and that to get a better look at this bundle of energy, and stands very, very still, until my son is done with hugging his huge chest. Grownups he is more wary of, and it will take some time to build that relationship of trust that is so important. Unfortunately I work full time, have a husband, two kids as well as a labrador to look after, so my time is unfortunately limited . I see him three times a week, if I’m lucky.

There are those here that think bitless riding is a waste of time and dangerous; our moderates, who will do bitless riding at home or in a well enclosed arena on a horse that is calm, responsive and well schooled and trained to respond to it, but otherwise would use a bitted bridle suited to that horse or discipline on outrides or competition, and then you have the fanatics who equate a bit to horse abuse (and I have seen heavy handed riders who might convince me to agree)

My personal opinion that a bit is as harsh or as kind as the hands that wield it. I like the "combo" of bitted bridle and neck strap to hang on to when the wheels come off.

So much for my story! Well, I am talking about my favourite subject here, so please excuse my ramblings.

Greetings from a hot, no rainy, no sunny...oh what is the weather doing? A typical Johannesburg summer.

Alida tells us about her Horsey Week-end

I was fortunate enough to attend one of the two days of competition held at "Penny Place" this weekend. The yard is run (owned?) by renowned equestrian Anneli Wucherpfennig, who still actively participates in competition and I was fortunate enough to speak to her briefly just before she went into the arena during a show last year, but she seems to enjoy supporting her young and upcoming students from a instructor's perspective. What an illustrious career she's had! And what a lovely person she seems to be. I don't dare guess her age, but she was competing when I was still a young girl!

We were only able to attend on the Saturday, but the riding was top class, and the sand arena was laid out with a jumping course the tested and questioned the abilities of horse and rider. Didn't see too many tumbles, but some refusals that had the rider straddling his steed's neck at one point! (and he managed to stay on, shifted back into his saddle, take a turn and clear the jump!) The speed with which those youngsters go through that course was breathtaking and had the audience gasping. We rooted for our instructor Ricus who was riding Kinvara in the 90cm class. Unfortunately she came to a dead stop right before the double combination. Ricus gave her a moment to look at the jump, turned her, and came in again. Took a pole down on the first part, but cleared the second part of the combination. A nice training session for Kinvara who is still very much a baby when it comes to these shows, but she is coming along so nicely.

I was told that Sunday had many of the big names in SA's showjumping circuit attending and competing and the adrenaline was pumping! Big fences, brave horses and determined riders all made for a fantastic show, on both days, and the knowledgeable announcer made it so much more interesting by providing some background info on many of the horse and rider combinations.

Don't know if its normal, but due to the size of the classes, the rule on the day was that if you jumped a clear round, your jump-off would begin immediately. This worked well seeing that some classes had up to 50 competitors!. This saved the horses and riders from having to warm up again and stand ready for an indeterminate amount of time. Quite practical I think, and moved the proceedings along quite nicely, although jumping a clear and having to do it again and at speed for a jump off must have been exhausting! Inbetween, we went to watch the warm ups - seemed to be more action there than in the arena, with the added challenge of between 12 and 20 riders all trying to warm up at the same time with their instructors shouting instruction from the middle or from the side! It was organised chaos, and I was glad to be watching from the sidelines.

A good fun day in scorching heat, rounded off by the usual late afternoon rain.

Visited my big boy the next day and assured him that he was just as gorgeous, if not more so than the horses I looked at the previous day. And he rewarded me with a most beautiful ride, responsive, collected, doing extended trots on cushions of air - my baby.