Saddle Shopping
I'm saddle shopping. I love saddle shopping and I hate saddle shopping. On one hand I get a nice new saddle, on the other I get to go through the annoying process of digging through tack store inventory and test riding saddles I don't like.
Like the saddle I brought home today.
I learned to ride when I was 16. A teacher who was co-advisor of Key Club at my high school offered me a job doing chores around her property in exchange for lessons. This woman scares the shit out of me. She also now works at one of the only tack shops in the area that sells used saddles on consignment. I showed up this afteroon, scanned the store and didn't see her and breathed a huge sigh of relief. As a very nice lady was pulling out a saddle for me to sit on, this woman popped her head around the corner. I stopped breathing and went clammy as she volunteered to take over.
She then proceeded to give me a list of everything I should be doing different with my horses.
1. Exchange my Mattes pad for the new thing that she just bought that has ceramic wrapped fibers (wtf?).
2. Buy the exact same custom saddle that she just bought because it's the best ever --- naturally everything she decides is the best just is.
3. Get a Prestige breast collar with elastic -- she's so into allowing that extra shoulder movement you know.
I explained that I didn't trust my green gelding with a brand new saddle suggesting he might flip over on top of it and waste my $4000 investment. He's never flipped over before I just needed a scenario that would get her to drop it. This didn't work, she assured me that having someone from the store come out and trace my horse's back would solve all of his problems. I then explained that after 3 months of working with my new trainer that his topline had improved so drastically that he'd grown out of his old saddle and it would be unwise to buy new until he finishes growing. She explained that I can have the saddle adjusted.
WTF lady! Get the idea I don't want your saddle, I don't care if it feels like I'm sitting on a la-z-boy. So she pulled out a couple of saddles for me to sit on. Most of them were too long for my leg and none of them screamed "try me!" Every time I asked to see something else she looked at me like I was being a pain in the ass for just not buying one already. Uhm yeah, biatch, just because I used to pull weeds for you doesn't mean that I'm not a real customer here, just show me another friggin saddle.
Things got awkward enough that I left Paul to sign out a Anky and browsed around in an attempt to calm my nerves. It was exactly the type of saddle I said I didn't want, but it fit my leg better than anything else I was shown and I just wanted to leave.
I dropped Paul back off at work (I'd dragged him along just in case something like this were to happen), and headed off to the barn. I was still balmy when I got there and to add more wonderfulness to the day, the Hunter/Jumper/Whatever you'll pay me for "trainer" was loitering around. Like every Monday/Wednesday/Friday I'd procrastinated going to the barn just to avoid her.
On Monday she'd just about run down John and Traveler who dared ride in the arena with her while she was "training" one of her "client's" horses. This woman can't ride anything without draw reins and does stupid things like "the human lunge" where while riding one of her "client's" horses (she doesn't have her own) she'll drop the reins and let the horse tear around the arena willy-nilly with her arms spread out like an eagle. The "clients" gasp in fear and then amazement at her "bravery" which must me she totally knows what she's doing.
She also says absolutely ridiculous things like that a particular horse slipped slightly while walking down the steep driveway covered in lose gravel because he needs more muscle. I slip down that driveway, everyone and every horse deals with the gravel slipping under their feet --- it's not a big deal and it's not muscluar. She's just trying to make the boarders think that they need her to whip their horses into Mach 10 around the arena three days a week. Get this. One day, while lunging the barn owners young thoroughbred she pulled a trick that we used to do when I was a working student at a barn full of school horses.
We'd lunge a horse before a lesson and to check and see that they're feeling sufficently dull we'd crouch down and jump at the horse. A hotter horse would spook, a properly dead school horse would ignore it and was ready to have a 6 year old put on it's back.
So she does this to this young Thoroughbred who freaks out and starts tearing around like a bat out of hell. She then calmly explains to the barn owner that the reason her horse is going so fast is because she hasn't yet developed balance. I then proceed to scratch my eyes out.
Once her lesson was over I tried out the saddle and hated that I loved it.
It was super comfy and I felt really secure and Darcy went great in it. However, I feel like getting a saddle with massive thigh blocks is absolutely ridiculous and gawdy. This I explained to my special friend a the tack store who corrected me by exclaming how fashionable it is these days.
I'm praying that during my lesson tomorrow Erin tells me that the thing is a piece of junk and to send it back.
For the same price I can get a new Stubben from a very nice lady who owns the only public Stubben show room in North America. They have a much lower profile and something about the tack store I've been going to leaves a bad taste in my mouth.