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Description
Australian Warmblood Futurity 2020: Red Centre Championships
Horses Reference: RWS Bongo Bongo
Futurity Ticket: Futurity Ticket #11
Class Entering: Cross-Country

well hi there - long time no see/upload
to say my life has been a mess is really putting it lightly, im in a terrible mental health state but life keeps on going, not matter what happens. my heart hurts and im exhausted, but i wasn't going to give up on the futurity event that I've managed to make entries for

so even though it's not the most spectacular, or the most mindblowing, but for what it means to me, I actually love it. I did it.
november was awful for me. awful. i broke up with my partner of 5 years, and i put my horse down. Jack was with me for 6 years and it tore me to shreds saying goodbye, but it was the right thing to do. it's a month since he was PTS tomorrow (26th) and my heart is heavy.

Sweat beaded on Sam's eyebrows, dripping into her eyes. Orange dust clung to the moisture on her body. Bonnie tore happily at the haynet, tied to the trailer. Straightening, Sam stood up and took a moment to admire her handiwork - the white tape yard she had spent the past 10 minutes wrestling with in the heat. She had nagged Ben to be among the first to arrive, hoping in vain to get herself and Bonnie acclimatized that afternoon before their ride in the morning.
"We should've done showjumping to get out of this awful heat, hey B?" The mare flicked an ear at Sam. She had matured excellently, and at 5 years old was beginning to fill into an attractive warmblood mare. Sam clapped a hand on to the mare's rump, the flag rug barely a layer between fingers and the mare's strong hindquarters. The mare shook her head and neck, pulled mane flicking from side to side. At least it wasn't as hot as it could possibly be in Central Australia. As the afternoon drawled on, the sun became less bleachingly hot. Ben had organised an informal barbeque on a portable grill between a few stables, and Sam took the chance to mingle away some nerves. Her silky black hair tied back, wearing a t-shirt, shorts and thongs, her favourite mare a few meters away - out in the middle of nowhere, drink in hand. Bliss. The drive towards the grounds had been lonely. She and Ben had taken turns driving, with Ben doing the majority. Sam didn't drive enough, and definitely not with a float in tow, so it exhausted her. The first few hours they had chatted, but over 3 days of nearly non-stop driving, it took it out of them. By the end, they just listened to whatever they could stand through their headphones - Sam chose podcasts. Breaking down a day's drive into 12 podcasts, pee breaks, food stops and hand walking a very well-behaved mare had proved to her that the industry truly was a village. They'd been lucky to spend an extra day in the Barossa Valley, wine country in South Australia. Bonnie had the day off, just to graze and clear her poor sinuses. Setting off the day after had been borderline torture, pulling out the gracious mare and loading her onto the float. She didn't hesitate - they had done so much travel over the years of the Futurity. Part of her was pleased the final was even going ahead. Part of her felt guilt - all this, 40 hours of travel, border permits, days wasted in the cab of a ute watching the desert nothingness pass, for one day. One round. One cross-country course. If they still had Saturn, if she still had Morgan... She stifled a sniffle, taking another sip of her beer, smiling amicably at fellow competitors and friends. She had 40 hours home to think about the shit stuff. First, the best part - she was here, she had nothing to do but ride and enjoy herself.

The next morning, she pulled herself awake at the sound of her alarm. 6:00am - before the heat became oppressive. She sat up, the blow-up mattress wedged into the float creaking angrily. She wiggled herself to the front of the float, scooted her shoes on and let herself out the interior door. She stretched, before rummaging in her bag for a water bottle. The dust was kicked up from the first showjumpers on the ring, bold orange rays sprayed out across the dirt. She wasn't planning on running until about 8 - giving her 2 hours to wake up and get her shit together. Bonnie greeted her, expecting breakfast as she saw her human appear in the aisle. Sam plonked down a bucket of premade feed from the night before and stopped, brain desperately trying to figure out where the closest tap was. She rubbed her face with one hand. Before she even processed it, Ben had taken the bucket and walked off. Okay. He's got it. She remembered a beer sword involved last night. Hrm. She wandered back into Bonnie's stall, scratching her withers just under the seam of her rug. Her haynet still had some stalks left and her tube of ompreazole was sitting waiting on the tack trunk. Sam grabbed it and twisted the dosage up. She grabbed the halter with one hand and dispensed the paste into the mare's mouth before she had a chance to argue. Done. Next - get dressed. Wherever her clothes were. Float? Float. She blearily wandered back to the float, not entirely sure how she managed to remember the way back. Polo, breeches, boots. Toiletries. She noticed a fine layer of red dust over her belongings - thankfully she didn't show dressage, what a nightmare. Bathrooms next. Hmm. Bathrooms.

An hour later, Bonnie was fed and tacked up. Sam had no memory of doing any of those things - but she was also clothed. It took a village to find the bathroom, but there were in fact TWO of them nestled in the market building. Sam and her newfound friends all successfully got showered, changed and ready to jam on a helmet and godawful body protector. She borrowed her hat silk from Aveline and her stack vest from Hayden - Aveline was not willing to relinquish her body protector "in case she went cross-country while she was gone" - like the girl with two 6-month old kids was going to find time to get in the saddle. In the aisle of the stable block, she saw Bonnie licking Ben's hand, ready and waiting to go. Sam bounced over, feigning the energy she wished she had.
"Go time. Let's do this." Ben grinned at her, before nearly tossing her into the saddle.
"Go time. Warmup, then trek to the start box. Not a big warmup, you'll be battling the start of this heat and she might really feel it once she starts working." Sam nodded, gathering up her reins. Ben handed her a short crop. "Probably won't need it, but might give you the power to get out of a bind." Sam nodded, taking it in her right hand and tucking it gracefully between her pinkie and ring finger.

The team traipsed into the sun and down to the warmup arenas, where a few others were starting to pop their horses over small fences. Baby horses having baby moments - like an argument between a confused mare and a... determined young stallion. The mare's confusion seemed more towards the anger of the human on the stallion, who was screaming and carrying on at the mere idea of having to quietly pass a horse. Bonnie peered at them, before listening as Sam asked for a trot on a loose rein. Her gait swung along, happy to be moving. A few laps of trot, and Ben directed the pair to a cross-rail, which Bonnie easily stepped over and landed in the canter. The stallion had started to settle, jumping nicely over the warmup fences in the other arena. Bonnie trundled along at a working canter, happily awaiting next instruction. (1184 words)

horse & rider reference - skeleton traced
various other reference images provided by show journal

Description
Australian Warmblood Futurity 2020: Red Centre Championships
Horses Reference: RWS Bongo Bongo
Futurity Ticket: Futurity Ticket #11
Class Entering: Cross-Country

well hi there - long time no see/upload
to say my life has been a mess is really putting it lightly, im in a terrible mental health state but life keeps on going, not matter what happens. my heart hurts and im exhausted, but i wasn't going to give up on the futurity event that I've managed to make entries for

so even though it's not the most spectacular, or the most mindblowing, but for what it means to me, I actually love it. I did it.
november was awful for me. awful. i broke up with my partner of 5 years, and i put my horse down. Jack was with me for 6 years and it tore me to shreds saying goodbye, but it was the right thing to do. it's a month since he was PTS tomorrow (26th) and my heart is heavy.

Sweat beaded on Sam's eyebrows, dripping into her eyes. Orange dust clung to the moisture on her body. Bonnie tore happily at the haynet, tied to the trailer. Straightening, Sam stood up and took a moment to admire her handiwork - the white tape yard she had spent the past 10 minutes wrestling with in the heat. She had nagged Ben to be among the first to arrive, hoping in vain to get herself and Bonnie acclimatized that afternoon before their ride in the morning.
"We should've done showjumping to get out of this awful heat, hey B?" The mare flicked an ear at Sam. She had matured excellently, and at 5 years old was beginning to fill into an attractive warmblood mare. Sam clapped a hand on to the mare's rump, the flag rug barely a layer between fingers and the mare's strong hindquarters. The mare shook her head and neck, pulled mane flicking from side to side. At least it wasn't as hot as it could possibly be in Central Australia. As the afternoon drawled on, the sun became less bleachingly hot. Ben had organised an informal barbeque on a portable grill between a few stables, and Sam took the chance to mingle away some nerves. Her silky black hair tied back, wearing a t-shirt, shorts and thongs, her favourite mare a few meters away - out in the middle of nowhere, drink in hand. Bliss. The drive towards the grounds had been lonely. She and Ben had taken turns driving, with Ben doing the majority. Sam didn't drive enough, and definitely not with a float in tow, so it exhausted her. The first few hours they had chatted, but over 3 days of nearly non-stop driving, it took it out of them. By the end, they just listened to whatever they could stand through their headphones - Sam chose podcasts. Breaking down a day's drive into 12 podcasts, pee breaks, food stops and hand walking a very well-behaved mare had proved to her that the industry truly was a village. They'd been lucky to spend an extra day in the Barossa Valley, wine country in South Australia. Bonnie had the day off, just to graze and clear her poor sinuses. Setting off the day after had been borderline torture, pulling out the gracious mare and loading her onto the float. She didn't hesitate - they had done so much travel over the years of the Futurity. Part of her was pleased the final was even going ahead. Part of her felt guilt - all this, 40 hours of travel, border permits, days wasted in the cab of a ute watching the desert nothingness pass, for one day. One round. One cross-country course. If they still had Saturn, if she still had Morgan... She stifled a sniffle, taking another sip of her beer, smiling amicably at fellow competitors and friends. She had 40 hours home to think about the shit stuff. First, the best part - she was here, she had nothing to do but ride and enjoy herself.

The next morning, she pulled herself awake at the sound of her alarm. 6:00am - before the heat became oppressive. She sat up, the blow-up mattress wedged into the float creaking angrily. She wiggled herself to the front of the float, scooted her shoes on and let herself out the interior door. She stretched, before rummaging in her bag for a water bottle. The dust was kicked up from the first showjumpers on the ring, bold orange rays sprayed out across the dirt. She wasn't planning on running until about 8 - giving her 2 hours to wake up and get her shit together. Bonnie greeted her, expecting breakfast as she saw her human appear in the aisle. Sam plonked down a bucket of premade feed from the night before and stopped, brain desperately trying to figure out where the closest tap was. She rubbed her face with one hand. Before she even processed it, Ben had taken the bucket and walked off. Okay. He's got it. She remembered a beer sword involved last night. Hrm. She wandered back into Bonnie's stall, scratching her withers just under the seam of her rug. Her haynet still had some stalks left and her tube of ompreazole was sitting waiting on the tack trunk. Sam grabbed it and twisted the dosage up. She grabbed the halter with one hand and dispensed the paste into the mare's mouth before she had a chance to argue. Done. Next - get dressed. Wherever her clothes were. Float? Float. She blearily wandered back to the float, not entirely sure how she managed to remember the way back. Polo, breeches, boots. Toiletries. She noticed a fine layer of red dust over her belongings - thankfully she didn't show dressage, what a nightmare. Bathrooms next. Hmm. Bathrooms.

An hour later, Bonnie was fed and tacked up. Sam had no memory of doing any of those things - but she was also clothed. It took a village to find the bathroom, but there were in fact TWO of them nestled in the market building. Sam and her newfound friends all successfully got showered, changed and ready to jam on a helmet and godawful body protector. She borrowed her hat silk from Aveline and her stack vest from Hayden - Aveline was not willing to relinquish her body protector "in case she went cross-country while she was gone" - like the girl with two 6-month old kids was going to find time to get in the saddle. In the aisle of the stable block, she saw Bonnie licking Ben's hand, ready and waiting to go. Sam bounced over, feigning the energy she wished she had.
"Go time. Let's do this." Ben grinned at her, before nearly tossing her into the saddle.
"Go time. Warmup, then trek to the start box. Not a big warmup, you'll be battling the start of this heat and she might really feel it once she starts working." Sam nodded, gathering up her reins. Ben handed her a short crop. "Probably won't need it, but might give you the power to get out of a bind." Sam nodded, taking it in her right hand and tucking it gracefully between her pinkie and ring finger.

The team traipsed into the sun and down to the warmup arenas, where a few others were starting to pop their horses over small fences. Baby horses having baby moments - like an argument between a confused mare and a... determined young stallion. The mare's confusion seemed more towards the anger of the human on the stallion, who was screaming and carrying on at the mere idea of having to quietly pass a horse. Bonnie peered at them, before listening as Sam asked for a trot on a loose rein. Her gait swung along, happy to be moving. A few laps of trot, and Ben directed the pair to a cross-rail, which Bonnie easily stepped over and landed in the canter. The stallion had started to settle, jumping nicely over the warmup fences in the other arena. Bonnie trundled along at a working canter, happily awaiting next instruction. (1184 words)

horse & rider reference - skeleton traced
various other reference images provided by show journal