Making the pennies count

THIS year I will have been riding for over five decades. Fifty-one years ago, I was looking forward with excitement and apprehension to my first riding lesson at Streetly School of Equitation (cost seven shillings and sixpence, stout shoes/boots essential).

A chance purchase by my father of a copy of RS Summerhayes’ Riding on a Small Income, at a jumble sale, provided me with much-needed confidence, coming from a thrifty non-horsey family.

On the appointed Saturday morning, attired in my stout school shoes, borrowed twill jodhpurs, a yellow polo neck and faded second-hand cap (padded around the brim to fit and with the elasticated chinstrap knotted), I waited in the tack room inhaling the sweet aroma of newly soaped leather.

Then, at a brisk walk, came our instructor Gitta Tangye, now remembered for running the Streetly branch of Riding for the Disabled. A crinkly smile and a bright, “Good morning, you must be Wendy, shall we tack your pony up?” and we were off.

An amazing world opened up which has always filled me with a sensory overload of sounds and smells. My first lesson, in which I managed to rise two or three strides to the trot, propelled me into a lifetime of horsey endeavours; looking after horses for friends, Pony Club, as groom on various stages. At the age of 27, finally owning my own horse, and now, delighting in the discovery of trail riding, which I can enjoy with my daughter.

Without doubt, I owe part of my horsey history to Mr Summerhayes – whose charming book I still possess.