Sunday, June 9, 2013

Two Women and a Truck

We needed new cross country jumps on the farm.  Some of our old ones have decayed (These were mostly sections of a very large tree that a tornado uprooted, let me see, ten years ago now.  We carved the tree up and scattered it over the farm, and for awhile we had some really big fearsome jumps where now it's mostly mulch piles) and some have just gotten boring: been there, jumped that.  The pony clubbers are coming this week for camp, and some of them were riding in ratings examinations, and they needed some nice jumps, too.

So my daughter and I unhitched the truck.  We went to Lowe's and pondered.  We talked and waved our arms around, and then we bought a bunch of wood.  Did we need help loading that?  No, we did not. 

"I bet the don't expect to see two women and a big truck," my daughter said.

Then we went to the tire store and convinced them to give us 8 old tires.  Tire jumps are easy to make:  set the tires like Oreos, secure the ends.  Done.  Well, done-ish.  We needed some 4 x 4s--the wood kind, not the vehicles--to keep the tires from rolling, but we found those in the hayloft, so that was good.

Then Katie, her friend Kyla (who doesn't know much about horses, but likes power tools) and I built a stair-step jump in the garage.  We built it in two four-foot sections, so that we can jump it either as one standard-width jump (easy) or two skinny jumps (much harder).  We set it in the field and stained it.  We scraped and repainted our coop jump so that it is, once again, the Green Monster.  We built a small lattice gate to add to our repertoire of show jumps.

That's it.  We sweat a lot, and got dirty, and my daughter learned how to use a power drill. 

You can buy cross-country jumps.  But there's something very satisfying about making some with my daughter, about teaching her that with the right truck you can conquer the world.