Not Everything on the Outside Reflects the Inside
Riley and I hacking in the lanes close to our new yard in North Wales
Which sums up my first hack on Riley since recently moving to our new yard in North Wales perfectly.
During our early time together, hacking on Riley meant managing fear, worry, and occasionally being frozen in the saddle. Eventually I reached a point where I could ride out feeling genuinely relaxed and happy and that felt like a huge win. But, alas, that feeling took a bit of a wobble when we moved to our new yard — a place where turning left or right out the gate means… a hill. The only difference? Whether you’re going up or down.
For most riders, this might be no big deal. But I, admittedly, have a rather peculiar phobia of hills. Not just while riding, mind you — walking or even driving up or down steep slopes can have me clinging to anything in reach. So yes, new yard equals new hill-related challenges.
Panic Bubble
Our old yard’s farm ride had a few gentle slopes, and over time I made real progress — the hill-induced wobbles became fewer and far between. But I vividly remember the first time arriving at Laura’s (my new coach) yard, following the horsebox carrying Riley and Blackjack, and feeling that all-too-familiar panic bubble up as we approached the steep driveway to the yard.
I then proceeded to avoid hacking entirely for, oh… only four months. But recently, I decided it was time. I had already summoned the nerve to ride up the steep slope from the menage (riding down still feels like a definite no), so I tacked up and pointed Riley towards the slope leading off the yard.
With Kevin ahead to open the gate — because stopping halfway up a hill is absolutely not in my comfort zone — we set off. To my surprise, I managed it pretty well. At the top, I made the executive decision to turn right (because left meant going down, and I’m not that brave yet).
Everything went downhill
Riley and Blackjack have settled in amazingly well and are happy at the new yard
We’d only walked about ten paces when everything suddenly went… well, not downhill — we were technically still going up — but emotionally, yes. Panic hit like a freight train, and I had to hop off immediately.
Instead of retreating, I decided to keep going on foot to scope out the route. The road was bendy and narrow, so I couldn’t see very far ahead, but my brain conveniently filled in the gaps with terrifying inclines. Eventually, we reached my favorite type of ground — flat! — and I clambered back on Riley to enjoy that short, level stretch.
The rest of the hack became a bit of a mount-dismount relay depending entirely on the terrain. Flat equalling onboard. Hills meant jump off.
Even though it was a quiet lane, we did need to step aside for the odd car. The drivers were all lovely, but each passing vehicle added a layer of stress. Outwardly I may have seemed calm, but inside? Full-blown flapping.
One average size Welsh hill, one big win
And yes, I do sometimes roll my eyes at myself for being such a wimp about it all. But the truth is, this was a small — but mighty — step forward. I will learn to hack up (and eventually down!) these Welsh hills, one ride at a time. There’s a long road ahead, both literally and metaphorically. But I’m on it, and that’s what matters.