Appearance

NH devotee looks like a throwback from a Texas ranch, despite the fact
that he grew up in the suburbs of NJ. Rope coiled loosely in hand (don't
want to send any messages of tension, after all) in case he needs to
herd any of those kids on rollerblades away from his/her F-350 dually in
the WalMart parking lot. Cowboy hat is strategically placed, and just
soiled enough to be cool. Wranglers are well worn, with that little
wrinkle above the instep of the ropers, and lots of dust (well, you
know, from the round pen) on the lower legs.

The DQ is freshly coiffed. Not even she remembers her own hair color,
but she has taken great pains to ensure that Rolf, the hairdresser,
makes the perm and highlights look "natural." Diamond studs are elegant
and stately, and not so large that they blind the judge during the
entire passage-piaffe tour. $30 dollar denim jumper worn over $300 full
seat white breeches and custom Koenigs.

The H/J competitor is in an aqua polo and those breeches whose color
could be compared to, um, well, okay, let's say they're khaki. The polo
is so that folks will think they're a jumper rider until they put on
their shirt and stock tie. Baseball cap is mandatory after a ride, in
order to provide free advertising to that trainer's stable for whom they
shell over a mere grand or so per month, and to hide "helmet head."

The Eventer is slightly hunched over. This could be from carrying three
saddles, three bridles, three bits, and all related color coordinated
gear to every event, or it could possibly be a defensive posture where
he/she is unconsciously protecting his/her wallet, which is, of course,
nearly empty from buying three saddles, three bridles, three bits and
all related color coordinated gear. Looked down on by the H/J's as
"people who just run their horses at fences" and by the DQ's as "not
real dressage riders". Eventers are smugly convinced that they are in
fact the only people in the horse world who CAN ride, since the H/J's
don't jump real fences and the DQ's don't ride real horses.

The Endurance addict is wearing lycra tights in some neon color. Has not
read the rule that lycra is a privilege, not a right. The shinier, the
better, so that they can find her body when her mount dumps her down
(another) ravine. Wearing hiking sneakers of some sort and a smear of
trail dirt on the cheek. Sporting one of the zillions of T-shirts she
got for paying $75 to complete some other torturous ride. Socks may or
may not match (each other).

The backyard rider can be found wearing (in summer) shorts and bra, (in
winter) flannel nightgown, muck boots, down jacket. Drives a ford tempo
filled with dirty blankets and dog hair. Usually has deformed toes on
the right foot from being stepped on in the WalMart sneakers that are
worn for riding. Roots need touching up to hide the grey. 2-horse
bumperpull behind barn filled with sawdust/hay. Can be found trying to
teach her horse to come in the kitchen to eat so she doesn't have to
walk all the way to the barn.
 

The Mount

Rusty is the quintessential NH mount. Rescued from a situation where he
was never initiated in the NH ways, he'd learned to run down his owners
at feeding time, knock children from his back under low hanging
branches, and could even spit like a camel if provoked. The embezzlement
has never been proven. The hospitalization tally for his handlers was
twelve until he met Spherical Sam. After twelve minutes in the round
pen, he is teaching algebra to high school freshmen, speaks three
language fluently, and can put on his own splint boots (with Spherical
Sam's trademark logo embossed clearly).

Fleistergeidelsprundheim ("Fleistergeidel" for short) is an 18-hand
warmblood who was bred to make Grand Prix in a European nation where his
breeders are still laughing hysterically when they talk about 'zat crazy
American.' Despite being runty, his owner fell in love with his lofty
gaits, proud carriage and tremendous athleticism. Never mind that this
talent was not revealed until he was chased down by a rabid raccoon, and
has not been repeated since. Has been injured sixteen times in the last
year, preventing his move to PSG at age 6, despite living in a 20' x 20'
padded stall and providing family-supporting wages to a groom whose
chief job duty is "don't let him get hurt!"

Neverbeenraced is a prime example of American Thoroughbred. The coat is
deep bay, no markings, the textbook TB head, and no unusual
conformational characteristics. Perfect, just perfect. Overcame a near
fatal flaw in his H/J career when he learned that the plants in the
jumps are NOT real, and therefore did not require him to stop and taste.
Has learned to count strides all by himself, and asks in midair which
lead his mistress would like today.

Fastnhighasican is a Thoroughbred track reject who never won a single
race - perfect eventer! He has two speeds, gallop and stopndump, and
they are used, at his discretion, for all three phases of eventing,
although he has some creative variations of gallop to spice up that
boring dressage. There is the gallopdowncenterlineandrear, the
gallopdepartandbuck, the extendedoutofhandgallop, and, a favorite among
spectators, the gallopzigzagpirouette in which the gallop is performed
entirely while hopping on his hind legs. His favorite phase is
cross-country where all obstacles regardless of size are jumped at the
height of 5.5 feet, and because that is where he gets to employ his
personal favorite movement, the stopndump. This is the most fun when
performed at cross-country water obstacles where his person invariably
stands up soaking wet with murky, smelly water and threatens to sell him
to Fleistergeidel's owner while he follows up with another fun gallop
variation, the imfreeandyoucantcatchmegallop, another crowd-pleaser.

Al Kamar Raka Shazaam was often called "you bastard" until he found an
owner as hyper as he, an endurance addict. Can spook at a blowing leaf,
spin a 360 and not lose his big trot rhythm or give up an inch to the
horse behind him. Has learned to eat, drink, pee and drop to his resting
pulse rate on command. Has compiled 3,450 AERC miles, with his rider
compiling 3,445 -- those five miles being the ones he was chased down
the trail after performing his trademark 360 turn, without said
aforementioned rider.

Snook'ums is the barkyard rider's horse. Big head; stride of a gerbil.
Duct tape holding shoe on until farrier gets out next month. Has a
little qtr, arab, standerdbred, tw, shetland blood. Mane cut with
scissors straight across. He's been there so long she forgot how she got
him or where he came from. Frequently seen ambling around the yard. Been
known to join family picnics on the back porch.
 

Overheard Frequently

>From the NH Devotee -- "Well, shucks ma'am, tweren't nuthin'!" "It's
simple horsemanship" "With this special twirly flickitat'em rope ($17.95
plus tax), you'll be roundpenning like me in no time." "You silly human,
that just ain't natural for a horse."

>From the DQ -- "Oh no, he's hurt again?!" "The check is in the mail." To
Herr Germanlastname: "Can't you tune up those one tempis for me?" To the
groom: "Get me that mounting block -- can't you see my nails are still
wet?" To the show manager: "That footing has ruined my chances at
Olympic Gold in 2000, I'll have you know." and "What were you thinking,
stabling me next to that nobody? That horse could be *diseased*?" To
anyone who will listen: "When I had dinner with Hilda / Lendon / Robert
. . . "

>From the H/J Competitor -- "Did you tell Neverbeenraced how many strides
between Fence Four and Fence Five -- I can never remember!" "Is my butt
sticking out enough when I post?" "Oh no, I can't jump 2'6", my trainer
will KILL me!" "I can't wait to do jumpers with Neverbeenraced -- then
we can wear one of those tasseled ear covers!"

>From the Eventer -- "I broke my collarbone/ribs/ankle again last week,
but I'll be fine for the jog-up tomorrow." "How do you get pond water
out of saddle leather?" "Did you see our showjumping where
Fastnhighasican bounced the two stride combination?" "Did you see our
final gallopdowncenterlineandrear? I think he is finally starting to
relax in dressage." "Oh, it's just a little concussion. Have you seen my
horse?" "OOOOHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIT"

>From the Endurance Addict -- "Anyone have Advil?" "Anyone have food? --
I think last year's Twinkies finally went bad." "For this pain, I spend
money?" "Oh I never bring hay or water to the vet checks -- there's
always plenty around." "Quick, quick, did you look, was his pee okay?"
"Shazaam, you bastard -- it's just a leaf [thud]!"

>From the backyard rider: "It's too hot/cold/wet/dry to ride." "I used to
show." "Where's my metamucil?" "Has anyone seen Snook'ems. last I saw
him he was across the road in the cornfield." "Here's a picture of
Snook'ems when he was 43 years young!" "Snook'ems stop slobbering on
me."