Riding the Mielie Fields with Erin

After the last of three really good dressage rides on Lancey last week, I took a kiddo out for a little walk ride with her new thoroughbred. The mare is absolutely lovely but hasn't seen our trails before, so I decided to walk with Lancey in tow, just in case I needed to make a grab for a bridle. Lancey, of course, would be excellent moral support.

I led him part of the way, but when it became obvious that I wouldn't need to be wrangling any thoroughbreds on this day, I realized that I really needn't walk the whole way home. I was still in my helmet after our ride so I popped on in a halter and we walked home. The thoroughbred did end up giving one spook right up Lancey's bum, but obviously, he didn't care at all.

It's so incredible how this horse has just transformed my riding confidence when it comes to going out. A year ago I was still celebrating the ability to go on a 10-minute walk ride alone, and there I was riding him bareback in a halter with a horse who didn't know our trails at all. He's just amazing 💜

Thunder, too, is amazing, even though the poor guy is currently still in get-off-my-leg boot camp, but he outrides are definitely not his forte. He was really nice on trails as a young horse, and then I made the mistake of using him in the riding school and he bolted once with a teenager who was not even remotely helpful and since then he has never been the same. Every two or three months I'll feel sorry for him being stuck in the arena and try to take him on a long ride, and I always regret it. We spent Friday afternoon skittering sideways through the soya bean fields while I hung on for dear life, not helped by the fact that the dogs found a porcupine and brought it to bay. For the record, African porcupines are not at all the tree-climbing creatures of the Northern Hemisphere; in fact, their quills are significantly longer and larger, and they're pretty vicious. This one was rattling its quills furiously, much to poor Thunder's consternation.

please mom take me back to my sandbox

We'll go back to tiny little hacks and slowly build him up again, if he starts to enjoy them at some point. I already have a lovely trail horse and it's not like I'll ever sell him, so if he never gets to like riding out, he doesn't have to do it. He's already a unicorn in the sandbox; he doesn't have to be a unicorn everywhere.

Lancey, it would appear, is a unicorn no matter where you take him at this point. This was evidenced on Sunday, when my bestbestbestbestbest friend, Erin, came over. After overeating ourselves hopelessly (this man of mine can cook, y'all) we rode Ladybug (more on that later) and then headed off for the best kind of conversation you can have: one punctuated by the steady thump of hoofbeats, and filled with fresh air and warm African sunshine.

I smelled trouble from the second my butt hit the saddle. Thunder had pushed me a little bit on Friday's ride, never shoving my nerves beyond about a 3 out of 5, but they did go up to a 3 and stayed there for about half an hour - much longer than I'd normally maintain that level of nervous just because we were outside instead of in an arena. Clearly, it had its effects. I was mostly OK, but jumpy about silly things and dreading the thought of having a nice canter rather than looking forward to it.

Thankfully, Lancey really doesn't care how nervous I am. He'd had a good week of work and seemed delighted to be on the trails; he instantly flowed into his Arabian power-walk, and he was eating up the ground effortlessly on a loose rein, not looking at a thing. Erin was riding one of my trusted school ponies, the handsome Flash, who was being angelic - barring having to jog every few minutes to keep up with Lancey.

We took the direct route to the gate to our kindly neighbor's farm. In the spirit of anonymity, I've renamed it Magic Oak Tree Farm in blogland, and Lancey seemed to know he was on familiar territory. We rode right along the first
winter grazing field and then found ourselves faced with a choice: north, towards the game camp and the magic oak tree; continuing west, towards the tar road; or south, deeper into the mielie fields.

I could already see that the game were up in the northern part of their camp by the road, so we wouldn't be able to see them if we took the north route to the bottom of the poplar woods. There are horses in the western field and at least one stallion - while Lancey doesn't care, I'm a little concerned about the stallion climbing over the fence. So we swung south instead into unchartered territory and continued on through the mielie fields.

This proved to be a perfect choice. There was nothing for the horses to spook at and no distractions at all from a much-needed catch-up between best friends. I quickly forgot I'd ever felt nervous at all, and Lancey swung along on a loopy rein with Flash right beside him. The sunshine was wonderful. It's hard to think of anything more relaxing, and I think I'm finally starting to get the whole "relaxing outride" idea at last.

At one point a little winter whirlwind grabbed a whole bunch of the dry, fallen mielie leaves and swirled them around Lancey's legs as we crossed one of the fields. My scary, spooky Arab didn't seem to notice. When the whirlwind had passed, I finally had gotten my nerve back, and we had a long trot all the way to the fallow fields on the southern side of the farm.

After turning for home, I realized that actually, I really, really wanted to have a canter. It would be good for my nerves, and it would just simply be fun! But especially with a school pony in tow, I didn't really want to canter heading towards home, so we took a detour to the east and through a tall gate.

This was where Lancey had his compulsory Arab Moment. The fence corner was completely covered in some kind of huge, green bush, which was obviously alive with birds. Lancey didn't actually jump, but he did put up his tail and give some wonderful snorts. Flash - who is definitely the more sheep-like type of school pony - had to grumpily go first, and even then Lancey barely deigned to tiptoe by. He was a bit bug-eyed for a few moments even after passing the bush, but after a little bit of lateral work back and forth on the trail, he realized that he was OK and relaxed completely. I think this is why I trust this horse so much: it's not that he's never spooky, it's just that he never, ever spins, jumps, or bolts when spooked. He just snorts and stares, and I can deal with that.

So even after all that, once we'd walked a little way and both taken a deep breath, I squeezed him into a little canter and we were off. He didn't put a foot wrong, as usual; he was a little forward, and clearly having fun, but I could half-halt him from my seat and if I dropped the rein a little then he just stretched down. As we reached the top of the hill I had to squeeze him a couple of times to keep him going, and when I asked him to walk, he plodded down into it like a good little boy.

With my nerve officially restored, we walked the rest of the way home almost on the buckle, the two little geldings just swinging along as happy as could be. We were out for about two hours and I'd guess we covered around 10km, but I really should get an app to track our rides sometime.

Lancey had broken a tiny bit of sweat when we got home, but he was super cheerful and happy, and I didn't even feel any stiffness or tiredness in our dressage ride the next day.

He also, obviously, turned himself into a mud monster the moment I'd hosed him off a bit.

It was an absolutely perfect ride on the best little white Arabian ever, and in the company of one of the best, smartest, kindest people I've ever known.

God is just so good 💜