Hack diary
Anna Louise discovers a new zest for hacking
IDIDN’T REALISE HOW the changing seasons would refocus and refresh us. Winnie has been in my life for nine months, but I now can’t imagine a life without my spirited four-year-old blue-eyed girl. I’d been counting down the days and wasn’t looking forward to autumn. I clung to summer desperately. Our sunlit evening lungeing sessions and our bright, beautiful hacks around fields, woodland and roads have been replaced by mud-splatted lungeing circles and slip and slide adventures on boggy hills. And when we’re hacking out in-hand, it’s me doing the most sliding. I thought our motivation would slow, and our excitement for progress falter, but I’ve found new challenges — and the weather has far from put me off. We’ve been out in torrential rain, stormy winds and ice-cold temperatures. My friend told me that it’s good for young horses to get used to being out — and working — in all situations. “You don’t want a fair weather pony,” she shouts over an intense hailstorm. I keep that in mind when I think of turning round and going home.
Rainbow skies
Being out in the drama of autumn has weirdly seen my summer cravings subside. I’m distracted by the beauty of nature I see on every hack — conkers, hedgerow berries, rainbow skies, deep puddles, trees full of fiery leaves and new calves in cow fields. Although it’s been mindful and has taken me far from the stresses of life, it’s not been as peaceful as it sounds. Fireworks displays sent the horses spiralling through their electric fence overnight and I find them wired and pacing in the morning.
When I take Winnie for a long hour-anda-half hack in-hand the day after a night of overnight bangs, she isn’t the horse I know — spinning in circles at cars, jumping at every bush, searching for the source of the noise. Nine months ago I would have wanted to turn around and get her back to the field, but now her unpredictable behaviour doesn’t scare me. I feel like I’ve got to know her; her quirks and her baby ways. Breathing, talking and singing calms her down. For me, focusing in on the birds singing around us and the obstacles beneath our feet — branches, rocky ground and deep water-filled pathways — help me to take one Winnie-spin at a time.
When she relaxes and starts to enjoy her journey out, it gets me thinking how much we need the changing seasons; how much I love the alterations. After last year’s eight-month heatwave summer,
I’d become greedy for sun this year. But spending time out with Winnie has made me fall in love with mud, dusk and that exciting, cold autumnal breeze again.
(OK, maybe not the mud!)
We are steadily clocking up the miles at our own pace, taking it in baby steps. To my surprise, Winnie is still growing. It’s important to me that I don’t rush her. We make it back from our high-adrenaline hack safe and sweaty for dinner with another three miles under our belts and ready for the new challenges that tomorrow — and winter — will bring.
“I feel like I’ve got to know her; her quirks and her baby ways”