28 August 2005
Ruby has got over her boring day at Crosby Show. Yesterday I took her to her last "proper agricultural show" of the year at Dufton, which is known as "The Fellside Royal" - a little, quiet, slightly diosyncratic show below the slopes of the Pennines, where, instead of every second person leading a dog or family of small children, they seem to be leading or riding a pony. The health and safety people would have a fit but it seems to work so nobody worries. As in many horse-oriented establishments, the "industrial" (domestic) entries were not so well supported! <vbg>
Dufton is one of my favourite small shows although it is a pig to get to, and the only reason I haven't gone in recent years is because I have usually been working in the preceding weeks. I hadn't entered Ruby in any Fell in-hand show classes this time. I still planned to arrive early but I thought I'd maybe walk her about then bring her back to the horsebox and let her just stand and eat hay instead of being taken to do anything disciplined, while I took my time over cleaning the brass on the harness. There were far fewer scary noises at Dufton; no carousel organ, no vintage engines, just the occasional generator lurking in the grass behind a tent, and a big bouncy-castle-cum-childrens'-slide in the shape of the upturned stern of the Titanic!
An old friend, Christine Morton, and her daughter Alison, were getting ready to drive their Irish-Draught cross Fell cross something or other (long legged black and white!) mare, Tilly. Tilly was another who appeared to have been disturbed by the fairground organ at Crosby. Since we were parked next to each other at Dufton and were both on the field really early (about 4 hours before the show class was scheduled, if it started on time, which is always rare at any agricultural show), Christine suggested going for a drive out before getting ready for the show driving. I thought that was a very good idea, making a complete change from going round in circles in the show ring, and with just the two of us if would freshen up Ruby's mind nicely. Christine said she actually wanted to wear her mare out! but we just did a steady couple of miles out and back together. Ruby led and had a wonderful time exploring. She had been to Dufton earlier in the year, on our Easter drive. This time she wanted to follow the tanker collecting milk from the farm on the outskirts of the village, and she was quite unbothered by the gathering show traffic on the single track roads, or by tractors or vans, or having to wait on laybys to allow rattling builders' trailers to pass. It was a nice way to start the day; it relaxed all of us and it certainly put Ruby in a good frame of mind. She likes to lead and it seemed as though she took charge of Tilly who was following.
Christine and Alison both get a bit nervous about showing in the driving classes. They have not been driving very long (about 18 months). They said their ambition was just to get round the ring without Tilly doing one of her U turns and leaving! But I was feeling fairly calm so I told them to think positive, as we were both going to win!
Ruby decided several weeks ago that Winter is on its way in the North of England (and today's weather proves she is no slouch at meteorology!) She has been casting her summer coat and putting up a layer of white grease that is hard to wipe off the inside of the harness. So cleaning that off was the first thing that had to be done following our drive out. Ruby spent the day munching hay and watching the world go by, while we driving competitors parked cosily in one end of the stubble field and chatted and cleaned our harness and vehicles.
Did I mention that Dufton Show has its own idiosyncracies? One of them is a difficulty in defining its show driving classes. I simply could not make head or tail of the show schedule (one class was for "any vehicle" and the other for "traditional or exercise vehicle") so I wrote when I paid my entry, explained my non-comprehension, and and said, "Put me in whichever class you think is right, because I am bringing an exercise cart". How did they solve that? I ended up with two entries, one in each class! Also, I was in the catalogue under number 88, but was given number 89 because the competitors' list had got mixed up so "that one is the right one". I didn't bother to even try to understand. Alan, the regular steward for the driving, is a local man who trains and breeds driving horses. He knows all the Cumbrian drivers and most of the National ones personally. Should we be in the ribbons, I knew he wasn't going to mistake "me" for the sylph-like young lady whose name appeared against number 89 on the class list :-)
Once again the driving classes were delayed. It's the need to amalgamate two rings to make room for us that is the trouble. But Julie the commentator (wife of Alan) gave out the time lag over the loudspeakers, so at least we knew how long we were likely to have to wait. I harnessed Ruby up, but unlike our day at Crosby, I didn't put her in the carriage. I sat in the horsebox talking to Chris and to his Mum while Ruby dozed in the cool, but welcome sunshine. We were given clear warning by Julie of when the class before the driving was about to start, so it was only then that I put-to to go and walk Ruby round to the show ring entrance and study the generator and bouncy castle/slide. And the show officials did in fact move the Veteran Horse classes to another ring to give the Driving two rings that adjoined, so we were treated well really!!
The grassy ground was perfect underfoot, the ring(s) not huge, but big enough. I had planned to be first in, and start off on the left rein " just out of badness" because although the traditional direction on entry is the right rein, Ruby gets more het-up on that rein.... And bless the steward, I didn't need to make any special effort because he TOLD us to take the left rein. That of course made Ruby very happy and she strode on willingly. It was a day when she was great to drive, really swinging her backside and powering onward. There wasn't room to overtake anyone but she was obedient and collected when we were held up, she didn't fret when I kept her collected to let the slower horses get away, and then when she had enough room to go she took full advantage of it. She stood quietly in line with Chris at her head and then did a neat, obedient, vigorous individual show, with every indication of enjoyment. (My daughter looks at the bent back ears on the show photos and reads "resistance" but to me they say "I am listening and being obedient, tell me what to do and I will do it." I'll post a copy of Ruby's trot extension [and the ears] to the photo section for comments!)
Ruby was pulled in first in the exercise cart class.
The steward (who I suspect was enjoying a great deal of discussion of the classes with the judge) said to me with deep approval as he indicated Ruby's place to stand, "THAT is a REAL driving horse. Hang on for the championship, you'll see..." and gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Real" is a terrific compliment up here; "it's a real 'un" is a horse you are proud to own, a good sort, something near perfect. It's almost the equivalent of the Spanish "real" meaning "royal".
The judge chose Tilly for her "traditional" carriage winner (the power of thinking positive?), but even in her cross-country carriage, Ruby was the champion. And of course, she just loved being able to lead the rest of the class in her lap of honour!
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It must have been the weight of the brass horse-and-carriage " Moonstroller Trophy" and the class winners' cup and all the rosettes that made the horsebox clutch give way 16 miles from home... so that Ruby had to be taken home in a friend's horsebox, and I got towed back about 9:00 pm!!
Sue