November 12th, 2006
Hedge Hopping
Photo courtesy Vale of Lune
Is it time to confess that I never do much riding once Autumn takes a firm grip of the weather?
Tired after a winter, spring and summer of training and racing the bike gets put away at the end of October and left to rust solid. By then autumn storms have left the ground waterlogged, local trails have transmogrified into a mud plugging chore, and the grinding paste that coats both man and machine destroys bearings, brake pads, and quite frankly my will to ride.
Consequently it’s not unusual that between October and New Year I put on a stone.
This year things have been different.
This autumn I’ve been riding every weekend and I’ve lost a stone.
As you have no doubt gathered from the pictures I’m not talking about riding my bike, rather my horse. It is said by those in the job of marketing hi-tech waterproof materials that cycling is unique in that we sweat like pigs on climbs then freeze our arses off on the descents. I’ve learned this autumn that this is a half-truth at best.
Riding a cantering horse for half an hour apparently generates half a litre of sweat. I am out riding for two hours. If you imagine that the horse is doing all the work re-read the line above about losing a stone. That’s a stone that didn’t shift over a summer of riding bikes. Back to the point; sweat for half an hour cantering across country, then freeze your arse off on top of a windswept hill waiting for the next canter. Sod goretex, what you need is a low-tech material like 32oz 100% wool cavalry twill, preferably lined with tweed for good measure. Such a jacket is so sturdy that it does a good secondary job as body armour when the inevitable happens.
And happen it has.
My principal aim when I started out was to improve my jumping position and gain confidence for next summers local riding club. Things got off to a slow start and for the first two weeks it was a case of when, not if, I would hit the ground. Three weeks in something clicked, and at the end of the day I jumped my first five bar gate.
Since then I’ve had two more weeks of staying on board, and the horse and I have a new motto.
“Why go round when you can go over?”
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November 14th, 2006 at 11:58 am
When you ride a horse is most of your time spent in a kind of ‘crouch’ position, hovering yourself just above the saddle, rather than actually sitting .in. the saddle.
I could imagine that being pretty energy sapping.
I have no idea, all I know about horses is they’re big and smell.
November 14th, 2006 at 7:20 pm
Indeed Matt it’s just as you described.
You spend all your time trying to keep your balance on something that is moving up and down and changing it’s pace, without falling off the front, or leaning back and pulling on the reins. This while stood in stirrups that are attached to the saddle by leather straps so they move backwards, forwards and sideways. Independently. It’s good for thighs, calves, glutes and stomach muscles.
One strange thing I’ve found is that bigger jumps are more frightening to approach, but easier to do; you get time in the air to think about getting ready to land.
I guess when I get the bike back out in Spring that I’m going to have to take up dirt jumping.
BTW, that’s only a warm up fence up there. It’s like an extreme sport in posh clothes.
November 16th, 2006 at 7:04 pm
That “fence” makes it look like slopestyle horse riding :)