GoLightly Facts, Part 2

A view from the trails

On our first hack together, through what was called affectionately (by me) the "Suicide Trails", I was struck by how straight GoLightly was. His poll flowed easily forward of his neck, of his back, of his hind end to his pathetically wispy tail bone. His bone, not his tail. His over step at the walk was sublime, at the trot, divine. He threw me forward and back and forward and back, our post length about 10 feet long. Long, forward straight-as-a-string-taut trot. 1-hang-2, 1-hang 2. I rode without stirrups, to toughen up. I knew enough to trust him. I just hacked him, his bit held gently in his mouth. Snaffle bit. All you need. If you start it off right.

No need for much discussion. I went that way straight, so did he. No, wait he went that way straight, and so did I. Forward, oh, my. Yes, please. Thank you! GoLightly was very polite. My mouth hung open for most of the ride, the good spirits kept the bugs out.

Having re-trained most of my riding life, this straightness was highly unusual to me. I worked hard physically between riding anything, by maintaining as much ambidexterity as possible. Each side of my body had to be equally strong. I was naturally stronger on my right side, so I liked going left better. Most horses I'd ridden were generally one sided, as well. You can sure feel it through their movements and their posture,if you leave them alone. They'd rather go that way. Or that way. GoLightly went straight, that way.

Och, he covered ground. Without really touching. Like an arrow, or a canoe, skimming straight ahead. We didn't canter our first ride. That string-taut trot was just too sweet. Plus my legs were noodles when I dismounted, came close to sitting down. He snorted at that, sweet funny sounds he made. Pah, silly woman. Try an hour. Talk to the hoof.

My boss/trainer, owner of the schoolies I taught with, was asked to provide a long sound bite of a horse trotting. Not sure why, for either a commercial or a movie. (edited, merci JPJC). He chose me and Lightly, nothing more rhythmically beautiful than the sound of GoLightly moving. Trotting was percussion, power without effort. All kinds of microphones and people later, we spun around and around in the little arena, dusty, me of course without stirrups. Perfect practice makes perfect. The sound was hypnotic, with Lightly adding little snorts of dust disgust. It was a nice day! Stupid people.

The footing was pillowy, and soft in that part of the arena.

(Harrowing is so important.)For an article on Arenas, go here

GoLightly was the quietest moving horse you'd ever hear. For his size, it was unusual. For me, anyway:) My trainer's three words to describe him were "He's so broke". Highest compliment he could give, really.

The "Suicide Trails" are still there, but no-one rides them now. They have cliffs higher than most riders hearts. The Six-Mile Creek area in Oakville. Beautiful territory. It's where I took my advanced kids. I liked to give them a real idea of riding, as often as I could. Precipices, right beside you. Ride passed it, go ahead. It really boosted their confidence, knowing they'd survived. Something to be proud of.
More houses are needed, y'know. Instead of trails.

To GoLightly's Trot.
To Irish-Bred Horses. My Own Personal Best Horse.
Swiss Trained.
Sweet.

hasta la vista, por favor, and I have no idea what that means.
pah, silly woman.

a MANANA!!