Flashing back to a St. Lawrence University IHSA show from last fall: between the big jumps and competition, sometimes a rider just needs an M&M break.
The shapes of the hills of California are odd and impossible by the standards of the Northeast. In spite of my time spent there, my brain has still not adjusted to the angles—either in the distance or under my own feet when I’m there. On a charming horse farm that might be at home in the early twentieth century, the sunbaked scene is too real to be real.
Grand Prix jumps are in the range of 2 meters. Horses jump over them. I can’t quite reconcile those two sentences in my brain, even while I’m watching it happen. The action is literally superhuman. I thought it was extra-appropriate that this horse had a saddle pad recognizing the fact.