(“Check that gauge often”)

When you train by yourself, it’s easy for things to run away with you. Not your horse—let’s hope not, anyway!  But stuff you need to monitor and regulate can get lost in a whirlwind of thought and sensation. The result will vary from less than optimal to downright ugly.

I’ve got a solution for you. To paraphrase Olivia Newton-John, “Let’s Get Visual.” I’m thinking gauges as a way to imagine how to order your inputs to your horse. Let’s start with balance. It may not show up in boldface type on the Training Pyramid, but without it, do you think you’ll find rhythm and relaxation, contact, suppleness? Not likely.
Here’s a tool that surveyors and carpenters use—a circular level. The concept is simple. Keep the floating bubble centered in the crosshairs. Pretend that gauge sits right on your horse’s withers. If he’s popping a shoulder or falling against your inside leg, you can be sure the bubble has drifted ominously out of place. When almost anything goes wrong, think of the bubble first. Push it back into place before you worry about bend or impulsion or even if the horse is flexed at the poll. Everything follows from balance, and if you aren’t aware when your horse is losing it, it’s darn hard to fix!

The second gauge I call to mind is one I learned of in my callow youth as a naval officer. Though I intended to stay as far from mechanical things as possible (as well as above deck and near the lifeboats at all times), I was required to know what made our floating home work. Consequently, I briefly stood watch with the engine room snipes. Back in The Day our ships were powered by turbines which were spun by high pressure steam produced in boilers heated with fuel oil.

Since there were no fancy microchips to monitor the pressure in the boilers, they were fitted with a vertical glass tube on the outside. A lowly apprentice sat on a stool and watched the water level in that tube. If it dropped too low, that meant the pressure was getting too high. He’d report and someone would turn down the heat. If the water rose too high due to diminished pressure, they’d increase the flame. If awkwardly the water level disappeared entirely, you couldn’t tell if the tube was empty or totally full. In either case, something very bad was about to happen, and the wise ones would be sprinting to join me in my lifeboat.

All these years later in my imagination this kind of gauge lets you monitor your horse’s tempo which should stay within an appropriate, well defined range—not sluggish, not quick. Check that gauge often. Whenever you begin a new figure or movement or when you ride through a corner, tune in to the speed/energy level and choose one that will let your horse swing comfortably and athletically without tension.

Just keep those two gauges in the back of your head, and whatever else you’re working on, don’t neglect their readings.