Horse of the Year 2025 Part 4: Supremes

 The whirlwind that was Saturday left me exhausted in every bone of my body, but thanks to our lovely relatives who live near KPC, we had an excellent night's sleep and headed to the park on Sunday morning with pep in our step (albeit very sore legs, in my case). Steve had opted to overnight with us and hang all Sunday morning, which was lovely.

KPC really pulled out all the stops to make this a convenient and hospitable Horse of the Year. They established a gorgeous big marquee tent between the Stubbs and McHardy arenas, which meant that we no longer had to trek all the way across the park to get snacks or coffee. I drank way too many iced chocolatey things. 100/10, please do that again, KPC.

After feeding Rene and Arwen---who had had a lovely, peaceful evening, judging by the amount of straw and poo stains all over them---we grabbed another chocolatey thing and wandered off to watch the pre-judging. I admired one of my all time favourite show horses, a snazzy grey Welsh pony imported from, well, Wales. He'd won the Supremes before, and though he didn't this year, I've seen his offspring at many a SANESA show absolutely kicking butt. He's certainly on my list to breed nice ponies at some point.

We had plenty of time before the working riding supremes, but I was already sweating. Twice now we've won the working riding in fine style and then each time I've absolutely choked in the supremes. They hold the supreme championships in the Bob Charter, possibly the most well-known outdoor arena in Southern Africa, which is enormous and has these gigantic grandstands all around it. It's an intimidating atmosphere, especially with everyone watching. I feared I would choke again.

Luckily for me, I have Erin, who has recently qualified in psychology. So I texted her. She said she had fifteen minutes. "It's not a conventional session," she said, "but it's not like we need to establish rapport." (I should hope not---we've been besties for more than a decade). I bought her a coffee and scrambled down to the parking lot. We piled into Erin's adorable Jimny and she gave me a crash course in not crapping myself in the Bob Charter via this incredible therapy called BWRT. I had it with a different psychologist down in Ballito during hubby's very traumatic time in hospital and found it to be pretty bloody magical, so for anyone struggling with a specific trauma or thought pattern, go find someone who does BWRT. It's not invasive, there's no hypnotism, and the effects are instant. Love it.

Anyway, fifteen minutes of therapy later, Erin ejected me from her car to get on with her actual job of the day (turning out horses) and I scrambled off to get Arwen. I felt instantly and completely better. I had earlier rated my anxiety about showing in the Bob at a three out of five with the sort of paralytic feeling that always makes me ride like a dead jellyfish. I now felt a happy buzz of anticipation at the thought.

With time to kill and Madam Dragon growing restless about being stuck in the stable, Steve and I saddled the mares and took them for a hack around KPC. To our surprise, half of the venue was suddenly full of showjumpers. It seemed that a jumping show was in full swing. I've never sat on my showing horse to watch a huge big showjumping class before, but it was pretty cool.

Arwen was really good for this hack. Historically she has been an absolute menace when I attempt a quiet little walk-around, but though she clearly had plenty of energy, she was very obedient. We practiced lots of halting and standing still at the barrels being used as rubbish bins. We did not kick any of the big expensive horses who came charging past us.

After our hack, I let her chill in the stable with lucerne and water for a while and went to the show office to ask for the working riding test---which you may remember we had to get at the office last year and I had no idea and had to ask someone in the lineup to tell it to me. This year, the judge would give us the test in the arena, which is how it's almost invariably done. I was relieved to hear it but very glad I went to check just in case.

Finally, I did the finishing touches on Arwen's turnout and headed to the warmup with loads of time to spare. I was terrified that the class would run early like it did last year, so we had rather more time than we needed, but it was all good. We did lots of halting and had a bit of dancing around at first but she was absolutely perfect when we headed over to wait in the shade for our class. Rene called to Arwen once or twice, but Arwen totally ignored her. I was really relieved about this after the Midas debacle at Penbritte. (Midas has since found the most wonderful and perfect home).

We relaxed in the shade while the class before us finished up and Erin came to put finishing touches on Arwen. We teased that she needs to start a business for therapy and turnout at shows called Shrink 'n Shine: Turning Him Out and Tuning You In. (It's a winner, I tell you, she'll make her millions).

Then we headed into the Bob Charter. As usual, we were third in the lineup. Arwen immediately knew where we were and what we were about to do. She pulled me into the lineup with pricked ears while a few of the others wanted to spook or nap at the intimidating Bob Charter entrance. Not the dragon. She has stuff to do.

We found a nice friend in the lineup and Arwen was content to stand on a loose rein as the judge told us the test. It was in, the best traditions of Supremes, not as simple as it looked. It started with trotting over poles on a curve, then we had to halt by a barrel, pick up a basket, and do a figure eight with it---first circle canter, second circle trot. That was a particularly technical little question because most advanced working riding horses would expect to do a change through trot, and it would be very easy to break to canter on the second circle.

Next, we lengthened the canter on a curve, then cantered into a lane and walked over a mat. Finally, we had another straw bale to jump over right next to the dyke they use for the Derby, which can be spooky.

I felt a thrill of excitement but no fear. The test lent itself well to the dragon; there were only two halts and the rest was a test of being bold, obedient, and on the aids, which is her jam. We'd historically struggled with trotting poles on a curve but we'd put in a ton of work with this at home, so I felt ready for it.

The first couple of horses went with our Boerperd friend going really excellently. Then we set off. Arwen trotted boldly out of the lineup without a glance back. I saw a dodgy line to the trotting poles and immediately had the presence of mind to fix it, which is the part where I realized that I'd conquered the Bob Charter. I was riding like a human being, not a dead jellyfish.

pictured: not a jellyfish

This realization thrilled me. The basket part of the test went perfect---she wanted to wiggle in the halt, but again I managed to disguise it. She didn't even think about doing a change through trot but listened perfectly to my aids and I did a bit of swinging the basket around her ears to show off the fact that she did not care.

The lengthened canter was good, and as we charged the mat, I thought I'd cut it a bit fine and have her walk shortly before the mat to show off her obedience. Arwen thought I wanted a halt, and when I gave her a little boot to keep her walking, she jogged. That was a bit of a bummer but an ordinary sort of error, not a paralyzed-with-terror error.

We cantered easily over the straw bale and I didn't halt and salute (not required, but it would have been correct) because I was too busy falling on her neck in delight. We'd done it. We'd finally pulled off a working riding test in the Supremes that I could be really proud of. It was one of those moments that makes you forget about stupid ill-timed lameness and falling off and catching escaped horses in the rain with one sock sliding off inside your boot. (Okay, maybe not that last one. It's hard to forget that one).

It was an extremely strong Supremes, so we were out of the placings, but at that point I just didn't care. We'd done everything I hoped to do. I rejoined DH, who was ready as always with a big hug and another one of those iced chocolatey things at the gate, and we all merrily wandered back to the stables.

We did a quick lap of the shopping area to buy Arwen a bag of the super cute iced horse treats they always have. She earned every single one of them.

It was super hot when we left, but thanks to my ingenious husband and the portable wash bay (which was truly the star of this HOY), we could soak both mares in cool water before loading them up and heading home. Truly exhausted, like after any HOY, but with my cup filled to the brim after a glorious weekend with amazing horses and incredible people.

God is so good.