While I take into consideration the first two cardinal rules of writing, (1) sit, and (2) stay, I entertain the idea that a vacation is a legitimate excuse for being a bit tardy with my December blog. It’s true that I hadn’t taken a vacation since going to the Olympics with Groover in 2004, so when the opportunity arose to head to the USA with my friend Mary, I put myself on that roster. It was time, I decided, to get my head out of the game, guilt-‐free.
The days prior to getting on the big bird over the Pacific saw me with my head still planted firmly in the game. The date was December 6th, and the kindly folks up at Warwick HT had invited me to do an EQ-‐funded “Get Eventing” Clinic. I want to thank Richard King, Kim Peard, and Craig Peard for this invitation to teach, something they know I’m very passionate about. Participants rode a test in front of a dressage judge; and then they ran through their cross country and show jumping rounds, all in preparation for the hunter trial taking place the following day. The enthusiasm of this group is palpable—a super friendly atmosphere; lots of great energy; and so much support for everyone involved. I did want to point out that the Warwick course will be altered this year and new jumps will be added, thanks to the genius of Ewan Kellett. So riders do be on the lookout for these new, exciting changes!
Lastly, I wanted to express my gratitude to Richard and Kim for giving me the opportunity to ride ‘Astronaut,’ whom I’m happy to say is progressing so nicely up the grades! The combination of horse and owners is certainly a class act: Astro is usually turned over to me the day prior to an event but he’s always a breeze to ride. I must compliment Richard and his team on this because it shows the amazing effort they put into keeping this guy tuned up. But, it also indicates to me the class of horse that Astro truly is. I’m thrilled to report that Astro and I will be doing our first pre-‐novice this year! It’s an exciting time as an owner as a horse progresses like this, as you never know its limitations until you get out there competing.
So while my horses were taking their own holiday in December, at my folks’ lovely place in Maleny, I myself had put my feet up and was sipping champagne as the V-‐Australia flight prepared for take-‐off. I was on my way to a place that’s been calling me back: the USA. Mary and I reviewed our itinerary and the weeks ahead were to see us visit Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, Southern Pennsylvania eventing country, the unpronounceable state of Massachusetts (Massatooshits?), and then on to sunny southern California for some r&r, prior to our return.
The American West (“out west”)
Having last visited the American West when I was 9 and 11, I was so looking forward to returning to that amazing landscape. Thelma and Louise landed in LA and after a 13 hour flight, hit the road for their five hour drive to Las Vegas: the 105, to the 605, to the 10, to the 15. I love the numerical jargon of the Cal freeway system—makes it remarkably easy! En route to “the mecca,” we picked up our US mobile phone chips and had our first authentic Mexican meal in the rather bleak Barstow, California. Having knocked back the Barstow area code offered, we sped off on “the 15” with our Beverly Hills area codes, which were to even throw Boyd Martin off a few times!! Who’s calling from Hollywood?
What’s the saying? What Happens in Vegas is Really Supposed to Stay in Vegas? Something like that. But there were information leaks thanks to my amazing Aussie friend and professional party associate, Lisa McGavern, whom we met up with for a couple of nights at the Cosmopolitan Hotel. I never thought it possible to behave oneself so well in this glitzy den of iniquity. Okay, so we didn’t. Thankfully I proved no addiction to gambling, but did find my new American addiction: the Gap clothing store. “They” tell me, after “a few” very spirited Fat Tuesdays’ cocktails, that my new career path was apparent: Gap Runway Model. I don’t think the clerks particularly saw me in that role (maybe they did), but what matters is that my friends Lisa, Mary, and, yes, Dan (Shooter) McGavern did! It was a memorable experience unlike any other—trying on great quality clothing made of fabulous fabrics; strutting down the “runway” of the change room; entertaining the always-‐bored Gap clerks; trusting in Mary’s judgment as she pointed at “the keepers” and kept “the show” moving. I am terribly apologetic that we have no photos, but as you know, what happens in Vegas truly does (is supposed to) stay in Vegas. Viva!
Having ticked our “Las Vegas” box, the Grand Canyon was a welcome sight and the perfect place to recover from our overdose of Sin City. I saw snow for the first time at the Canyon, and seriously soaked up the beauty and serenity of one of America’s treasures. Mary decided that I would be doing a death march into the Canyon, so I’m proud to say that at an elevation of about 7,000 feet (2015m), I hiked, in winter no less, a 10k into and out of the Canyon. Maybe I need to keep this hiking thing in mind! It’s great for the soul.
The Hats
There they were, Thelma and Louise, arriving in Vegas around sunset, bleary-‐eyed and semi-‐ conscious, but taking serious note of the “Boot Barn-‐-‐Boots and Western Wear” sign from across four lanes of traffic. Our state of mind could only afford a rather slow, deliberate u-‐turn, nothing reminiscent of Hunter Thomson’s driving in “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” But with a determined look in our eyes, we knew we had to get a taste of some bona fide Western paraphernalia. We were looking….to score. And that we did. No sooner did the door open than the ‘Stetson’ sign beckoned us…to the far side of the store. Lo and behold-‐-‐-‐the HATS, thee HATS, appeared before me. I had a new purpose in life.
How’s ‘bout this one, Mary? Or this one? Yup. Nope. Nope. Yup. Nope. Maybe. Yup. And we were off, new improved identity firmly ensconced in “the white plastic bag.” Unbeknownst to THE HATS, they were about to embark on the journey of their lives. They saw the Grand Canyon; Phoenix, Arizona; Philadelphia; Boston; The Berkshires; Hartford, Connecticut; Dallas, Texas; and finally Los Angeles, California…WHERE MY NEW IDENTITY WAS LEFT ON THE PLANE!!! “Don’t forget to check under your seat,” was a flight attendant suggestion unheeded. Ten phone calls and one more trip across the Pacific with some travelling friends….and THE HATS had finally arrived in Brissie. These babies were meant to be!!! Please feel free to come up and visit with the well-‐travelled hats if you see me at a clinic or event—the hats of many miles.
The American East (“back east”)
“WHAT, you may ask, gets me energized and helps me feel really passionate about my sport? Being around like-‐minded people, of course—people who are similarly passionate about eventing and who are driven to excel, like me! Arriving in Southern Pennsylvania (PA) eventing country was like plugging myself right into a wall socket-‐-‐-‐I was ZAPPED with about 1000 volts of high intensity electricity. The people and energy that drive the eventing scene in what is known as the ‘middle Atlantic region,’ made me come alive, in a serious way. I felt at home. My mates had to break the bad news that there are no events in the winter in PA; but the good news was they had plan B ready to put into action. I, Rebel Morrow, was to participate in the fox hunt for the first time in my life! Sit. Stay. Fill flask. Ride. Jump. Gallop. Fast. Crazy. Wild. All with best mates. Highly recommended for anyone in need of an adrenaline fix! The only thing that was missing on the hunt was MY VOICE, which I had lost due to a bug I picked up in my travels.
Serendipitous it is when certain people come into your lives at certain times, when it just feels right or meaningful. My eventing mates in PA-‐-‐Boyd and Silva Martin, Ryan Wood, Mr. and Mrs. Dom Schramm-‐-‐were all so accommodating and encouraging. Sally McKechnie Lofting had me primped and prepped to do my inaugural fox hunt, for which I was so grateful. I thank Sal and Hugh Lofting for their hospitality—I checked into their “inn” for a few nights and with Mary’s watchful eye away in Massachusetts, they made sure that I partied every night until my departure to Boston.
My last night in town Ms. Sarah Allen, owner of the infamous Whip Tavern, put on a crackin’ party at her stately equestrian property. Sarah, if you read this, it was so lovely-‐-‐-‐passing out together ha ha!! But Sarah is one TOP BIRD, who will be fluttering off to the Bahamas very soon. We wish her luck on her next journey in life. Finally, a note to self: never on the hunt get behind Emily Ann Rzucidlo’s ginormous Clydie x, for it took me days to wash out all the mud balls this fella was flinging at me at full gallop. Truth be told, an apology came in the form of a luscious vanilla bean rum-‐-‐-‐a delightful spirit to stave off the bitter chill in the winter months, made exclusively by the Clydie owner herself.
The New Year saw my return to Brisbane, invigorated by the people and places I had encountered and ready to set my new goals for the year. I look forward to surrounding myself with friends, family, and clients that motivate and inspire me! It will be full steam ahead, back into that which I’m so passionate about: riding, competing, teaching, and connecting with all of you who‘ve been bitten by the eventing bug!
What’s my message this month? Schedule time in your life away from your day-‐to-‐day routines and worries. Book the trip, otherwise it just won’t happen! Go and see the amazing sights the big world has to offer! Experience different cuisines; gain new perspectives; open your lives to new people; and let the incredible landscapes inspire you. Travel can certainly be a cathartic experience. Wonder what trip my “travel agent” will arrange next, because I now know that “All Work and No Play Makes Rebel a Dull Girl.” I also know that I am never a dull girl.
Head firmly back in the game, I sign off until next time,
Rebs
