A Mad Girl in Holiday-ville
2010-2011
Since I don’t have a clue as to what those pesky “sugar plums” are doing dancing in my head this time of year I do, however, have a plethora of driving thoughts bouncing between my ears.
Age. That’s the word that keeps popping into my head these days: my age, my mom’s age, the advancing age of my eighteen year old horse, the number of years of wear before my harness is kaput and the age of my last dental checkup....
My driving buddies are nestled nicely in the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s. In actuality, I never think about how old or how young my driving friends are. They just “are.” I think of them more in terms of their driving experiences at Little Everglades in Florida, Plum Creek in Texas or the National Drive in Kentucky. I also trust their opinions about my newest driving hat. If Linda tells me to have “friendly hands” I listen with every cell. If Sandy tells me to keep my elbows in, I file that tip away for every drive. I watch Terry closely when she drives because I don’t think there is anyone who can sit so calmly when her horse reacts to something other than the Drive Meister himself, Mike McLennan.
If the first word on my list is “age” then the second word is “invisibility.” My vet “sees” me but my own doctors don’t. You’re labeled menopausal or pre-menopausal and it’s enough to make you want to smack those white-coated, well educated guys and gals silly, a move, which I guess would quickly and accurately dump me into the crazy menopausal group.
But with that said, these friends are definitely pushing the outer limits on such traits as “feisty,” “daring,” “crazy-wild,” “fearless” and maybe even a “short side of insane.” You are asked to list the age of your horse on every Omnibus Event form but in the formidable wisdom of the American Driving Society your own age is not even a blip on their radar (unless you are under the age of 18 and need your parents signature). You still compete with those fourteen year olds and I must say that competing against men has major rewards for a competitive soul like mine. Unlike running or triathlon competitions where you race against your own sex or age groups, our driving sport is age, color, and sex blind. We just may be the most democratic competitive sport on the planet. (I am, though, starting to realize that if there is any one factor that could give someone an advantage who wants to compete on the International level in this sport I would have to say that would be some serious financing or the ability to find that funding).
But the bottom line is that you start thinking about driving folks as someone who may “smoke the cones,” the “go to” person for this or that, or as someone who has a “good eye” in dressage.
Do you see many competitive 70 year-old jumpers or barrel racers? Well…head over to a driving event and watch more than a few guys and ladies in their 70’s kick some serious dust in the hazards. And if you factor in the danger angle of this sport you really do need some hard experience and miles while holding onto those reins, some major disposable cash and a really, really good medical plan.
You think of racecar driving as intense but just try throwing a balloon, umbrella or a flying plastic bag in front of a driving horse to really understand the meaning of excitement. Every horse story that is uttered by driving folks late in the day while drinking wine or beer is stored for future reference. You can’t help be stunned at Mike M’s. story about his team of four horses cantering repeatedly over the top of their parked Mercedes and praying that something like that never, ever happens to you in any way, shape or form.
In this sport you are valued for your quiet hands, your fearlessness, your competitive nature, and your horse handling skills. I have to admit also that I am increasingly envious of fancy horse trailers. (If Santa hasn’t left the states yet and is listening I would also love a shiny new……….presentation carriage.)
It’s nice to know that there is a varied, active, and a crazy-great life after 50 and that my new tribe is indeed wild and funny unpredictable. Seems that driving groups jump into the New Year with the same gusto as powering through obstacles and cones. They also know enough about life to laugh while all hell is breaking loose. In my novice driving wisdom I think I’m starting to figure out that laughing is the key to helping your horse get through a difficult spot. Laughing and calm behavior helps your horse quickly change his TV station from “I’m going to die and have to run” to “she’s laughing at me, I’m so embarrassed, I think I best just walk a bit”. That’s probably also the key to long and successful marriages.
When I was driving to the cones course at the 2011 Oklahoma CDE my driving friend, Sandy, yelled out “don’t drive like an old lady.” That pretty much sums it up.
Your horse doesn’t care how old you are….he’s looking to you to handle the reins well and if you have a cookie.
It’s quite comforting to know that you are in a herd of folks cantering at break neck speeds into the proverbial sunset. So with safety in the backs of our aging minds for this New Year 2012, have a grand, sweet time spending your many dollars on your horses, ponies and VSE’s and most importantly----continue driving them “wickedly” strong.