by Kimberly K. Egan, MHC President w/photo by Erin Gilmore Photography (first published in the November 2024 Equiery)

As many of you know, I am a hapless eventer and erstwhile fox chaser, clinging to my adult amateur status to focus on having fun. I am in a stressful, adversarial profession (lawyering), so I work hard to keep my hobby stress-free and fun.

My commitment to fun was tested on October 6. I had the full horse trial experience – the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat; the highs and the lows; the good, the bad, and the ugly. But it reminded me how terrific horse people are, and how supportive our local eventing community is.

I was unusually organized for this particular horse trial. I had the trailer fully packed and my horse Daisy sparkling clean before dinner time the night before. All I had to do the morning of the event was give Daisy her breakfast, fill the hay nets, and load her up. Off we went!

We hit the road at 6:30 a.m., destination Loch Moy Farm for the third USEA/USEF Maryland Horse Trials of the year. The rising sun light was just touching the mountains as we headed west. Traffic was light. We hit every green light on Route 80. We would have plenty of time to warm up for our 8:30 a.m. dressage ride time. Life was good.

As we passed Ijamsville Road, something flew over the road behind us, right to left, and landed in the grass. “Interesting,” I thought. A little further down the road I heard a thwackety-thwackety-thwack. As I was going around the traffic circles in Urbana I saw that the left rear tire of the trailer was gone. Not flat or wobbly – gone. I pulled over.

The first thing I thought was “so much for having plenty of time to warm up for dressage.” The second thing I thought was “there goes my entry fee.” The third thing I thought was that I should call my wonderful husband because he can work miracles with machinery. Then I texted a friend to moan and groan.

My friend said, “call Loch Moy! They will make it work!” So I did. I called Carolyn Mackintosh, who owns Loch Moy Farm and is also an MHC sponsor and Board member. She happened to be sitting next to the show secretary, Rick Dunkerton, who said, “let me know when you get here and we’ll make it work.” I didn’t really believe him.

While I was waiting for my husband, a guy driving an SUV slowed down and peered at me oddly. I did what any woman driving alone does, I averted my eyes and turned my head away. Then my husband arrived with a bevy of tools and went to work.
Shortly thereafter a 5-horse trailer stopped and the driver asked if we had all the tools we needed. He was on his way to go hunting with New Market-Middletown Valley Hounds. Tally ho! Have fun! A few other trailers slowed down as they went by and I signaled that were okay but thank you! Heartwarming.

Then the guy who had slowed down and peered at me oddly reappeared. He had been on the way to Loch Moy with his daughters and had seen me sitting there alone in the truck. He thought, “How is this person going to unloaded her horse(s), hold them, and change the tire all by herself?” He had dropped his daughters off with their trainer at Loch Moy and turned around and come back to help.

I was so astonished that when I realized what he had done it brought a tear to my eye. I was so grateful that someone could be that kind and compassionate to leave his own children and drive 20 minutes out of his way to rescue a total stranger and her horse.
As it happened, he was also a huge help. The obliterated tire had damaged the fender such that it was going to interfere with the spare tire once we got it on and probably obliterate it as well. So the helpful stranger and my miracle-worker husband built a contraption out of straps that pulled the fender out of the way long enough to get to Loch Moy, where my husband could remove the fender altogether. Daisy stood placidly on the trailer, eating her hay.

We got underway again at 8:28 a.m., two minutes before my original dressage ride time of 8:30. Then Carolyn Mackintosh called: “Where are you now? What is your ETA? How much time to you need once you get here?” They had figured out a way to squeeze me in! Carolyn and USEA made it work!

Daisy and I (and my miracle-worker husband and the kind and helpful stranger) arrived at Loch Moy and I leapt into super quick tack-up/suit-up/warm-up mode. The thing is that Daisy and I have had a truly dismal record in the dressage ring all summer. In a discipline where the goal is relaxation, unity, and harmony, we had been getting comments like, “Raucous! Well sat! Brave rider!” And the dreaded, “exited arena prematurely.” My entire goal for this horse trial was to stay in the dressage court and keep a lid on Daisy’s exuberance.

Which we did. It was our best dressage test of the year. How about that?

I was still running behind though because even though Carolyn had managed to get my dressage time to work, I still had to make my original stadium and cross country times. Which meant I had to walk the cross-country course, change tack, and warm up for stadium in less time than I would normally have had. So you can imagine my dismay when I heard someone calling to me as Daisy and I walked back to the trailer. “Miss! Miss! Excuse me! Miss!”
USEF had selected Daisy for random drug testing.

I whole-heartedly support drug testing at equestrian events. Not because I care all that much about “fair play,” but because I care very much about equine welfare in sport. Drug testing is not, however, a quick affair. A USEF vet comes and draws blood and then waits for 20 minutes and pray for a urine sample. My narrow window of time for walking XC and warming up for stadium had just gotten narrower.

I stopped caring about the time at this point. I had lost all control of my schedule, I had lost control over pretty much everything except my relationship with my marvelous horse. Time ceased to have any meaning at all. All I wanted was to make it stadium before they lowered the jumps for the next division.

I walked the cross-country course and spent extra time at a particular part of the course where it was not obvious to me how to get from jump 5 to jump 6. Several of the routes risked us smacking straight into a tree. Another route risked us tripping on a massive root. Another risked us running out in an impressive fashion, and another risked us never making it to the jump at all. I thought about this approach deeply. I walked it several times. And I strategized how to go own the steep slope that followed – go in the torn-up ground from previous horses? Or the virgin ground that was covered with long, wet, slippery grass? I chose the former.
Off to stadium we went and had a double clear round, which was great but also to be expected because Daisy never comes close to touching a rail. It was more surprising that we made the time because I had not even bothered to find out what the time allowed was because, well, time had ceased to have any meaning. We made the time allowed by a mere three seconds.

Then to the cross-country start box. We blasted out of the start box with great gusto and Daisy cruised over the first few fences with glee. We both were having a ball and I was mentally relaxing because everything had worked out and I had made it to cross country! Hearing our names announced over the PA system as “on course” was music to my ears.

As I was coming down the steep slope out of the woods I even thought, “hey, that track wasn’t as hard as I thought, and this ground isn’t as torn up as it had seemed.” Stressful part of the course over, we cruised around to the back of the course, happily jumping and rolling along.

But as I turned towards the first water (Daisy and I love water), a volunteer pulled us off course. We had missed jump 6 entirely. Doh! That jump that I had spent extra time analyzing and walking and strategizing. No wonder the approach hadn’t seemed so hard and the footing hadn’t seemed so bad. We never approached the dang thing at all.
Sigh.

Even though we ended up getting a technical elimination, I still count the day as a smashing success. My horse had stood like an angel on the trailer on the side of a busy road while my fabulous husband and the helpful stranger got us road worthy again. The entire ground team at Loch Moy made everything work for us – every ring steward said, “so glad you made it in time!” All the volunteers said, “so glad you didn’t’ have to scratch!” Daisy and I slayed our dressage dragon. We got drug tested for the first time and Daisy again stood like an angel as a vet she did not know stabbed her in the neck to draw blood. And we were rolling along having the most fun we have ever had together cross county.

In my mind, those are the important things. Not scores, ribbons, or rankings. My wonderful community helped me at every turn just so that I could have fun with my amazing horse.
It was a truly wonderful day.