Documenting Our First Novice-Level Event: A Step-by-Step Account
Our first novice-level event with Archie began long before we loaded the lorry. It started with quiet schooling sessions, conversations with our coach, and the gradual realization that the next level would ask more from both of us. The fences would be larger, the cross-country questions more demanding, and the dressage work less forgiving. I wanted to record the whole experience honestly, including the ordinary preparation that made the competition possible.
Archie is brave, generous, and occasionally very certain that his preferred plan is better than mine. That combination makes him wonderful to ride and keeps me alert. Moving up from our previous level was never going to be about jumping a few bigger obstacles. We needed to show that we could remain organized, ride accurately, and make sensible decisions when the atmosphere became exciting.
This account follows our first novice event from the week before the competition through the final prize-giving. It includes the packing, travel, warm-up routines, three phases of eventing, and the lessons that stayed with me afterward. Recording each stage helped me understand where preparation finished and adaptability had to begin.
Deciding We Were Ready
The decision to enter a novice competition came after several weeks of consistent training rather than one spectacular lesson. Archie had become more reliable in his transitions, and our jumping sessions included related distances, angles, ditches, and combinations. We were still imperfect, but mistakes were becoming easier to correct. That mattered more to me than achieving one flawless schooling round.
Our coach helped me assess the move realistically. We discussed whether I could maintain a balanced canter to a larger fence, whether Archie would stay attentive after a mistake, and whether I could ride a cross-country course without becoming hurried. The answer was a cautious yes. We chose an event with a reputation for fair questions and a course that would allow us to learn without being overwhelmed.
I also checked the practical details before entering. The schedule showed dressage on Saturday afternoon, show jumping early on Sunday, and cross-country later that day. That meant Archie would have an overnight stay, so I needed to organize stable arrangements, feed, bedding, and enough time for him to settle. The entry form was only the beginning of the commitment.
Preparing Archie And Myself
The final week was deliberately quiet. I did not try to create a new horse in seven days. Archie had one light dressage session, one short jumping exercise, and plenty of hacking. Our flatwork focused on rhythm, straightness, and prompt transitions rather than demanding movements. I wanted him comfortable and responsive, not tired from last-minute drilling.
My own preparation was less glamorous but just as important. I walked through the likely timetable, checked the tack, cleaned the boots, and wrote down everything I needed. I packed spare gloves, extra plaiting bands, electrolytes, water containers, rugs, first-aid supplies, and a printed copy of the times. I also packed food for myself, because missing lunch while caring for a horse is an easy way to make poor decisions later.
The evening before departure, I checked Archie carefully and noticed a small rub under his saddle area. It was not serious, but it reminded me that competition preparation includes tiny details. I adjusted the padding, checked the fit, and made a note to monitor the skin during the weekend. A horse cannot perform comfortably if basic care has been overlooked.
Arrival And The First Walk Around
We left home before sunrise, with Archie stepping onto the lorry more calmly than expected. The journey took a little over two hours. I stopped once to check him, offer water, and make sure the haynet was secure. By the time we arrived, the venue was already busy with horseboxes, collecting rings, and riders studying maps.
The first job was settling Archie into his stable. I gave him water and hay, allowed him to look around, and avoided fussing over him. He was interested in the activity but not tense. Once he was comfortable, I collected our number bib and walked the dressage arena. Seeing the boards, judges’ boxes, and surrounding movement helped me form a plan rather than allowing the atmosphere to become a surprise.
Our coach met us at the venue and watched a short schooling session. Archie was slightly distracted, especially when horses cantered past the warm-up area, but he responded to my aids. We finished after a few productive transitions instead of continuing until he became tired. That decision set the tone for the weekend: reward concentration, make the work clear, and stop before frustration replaces learning.
Here was the schedule I kept in my notebook:
| Stage | Main Aim | What I Focused On | Result |
|---|---|---|---|
| Dressage | Ride a calm, accurate test | Rhythm, straightness, clear transitions | A steady test with a few tense moments |
| Show Jumping | Keep a balanced canter around a larger course | Forward rhythm and accurate turns | One fence down, but a good recovery |
| Cross-Country | Ride positively and make safe decisions | Pace, lines, and confidence | Clear jumping round with time added |
| Between phases | Keep Archie settled and comfortable | Cooling, walking, feeding, and checking | Archie remained bright and willing |
Riding The Dressage Test
Dressage was our first phase, and I felt the familiar nerves as we entered the arena. Archie warmed up well, although he occasionally looked toward the collecting ring instead of staying fully connected to my aids. I kept returning to the basics: steady hands, active hind legs, and a clear line between each movement.
The test began better than I expected. Our entry was straight, and the halt was square enough to feel positive. The first few minutes showed the benefit of months of transition work. Archie stayed in a consistent rhythm through the trot work, and I remembered to ride forward rather than holding him together. At novice level, every small loss of balance can affect several marks, so I concentrated on keeping each movement organized.
Our weakest moment came in the canter. Archie became tense near the judges’ car and briefly lifted his head, which made the transition less smooth than it had been at home. I felt myself starting to worry about the mark, but I had to ride the next movement instead of replaying the mistake. We finished with a decent final halt, and I left the arena disappointed by the tension but pleased that we had recovered.
The score was not exceptional, yet it gave us a workable starting position. The judge’s comments praised the regularity of the trot and suggested that I develop more suppleness and relaxation. That feedback felt fair. I did not need a perfect dressage score to have a successful first day; I needed information about where our training should go next.
Tackling The Novice Show-Jumping Course
Sunday began with an early stable visit, a small breakfast for Archie, and a careful check of his legs. He had rested well and seemed cheerful. I walked the show-jumping course several times, counting strides and identifying the places where I might be tempted to chase. The opening fences were inviting, but the later combination and related distance needed a balanced, adjustable canter.
In the warm-up, Archie jumped confidently. I tried to keep my preparation short, using only a few fences before entering the arena. My plan was to ride forward to the first fence, keep my eyes up, and maintain the same rhythm through the turns. Once the bell rang, the course felt smaller than it had during the walk, which was encouraging.
We jumped the first four fences well. Then I allowed the canter to flatten slightly on the approach to a wide oxer. Archie chipped in close and caught the top rail. It was my mistake: I had focused on getting there rather than preserving the quality of the stride. He landed, stayed straight, and continued without hesitation. I took a breath, re-established the canter, and rode the rest of the course more deliberately.
That single fence down cost us penalties, but the round taught me something valuable. A novice track requires me to keep making decisions after an error. I cannot let one disappointing fence turn into three more. Archie had shown that he was willing to carry on, and I needed to match that attitude with calm, effective riding.
Making A Cross-Country Plan
Cross-country was the phase I had anticipated most intensely. Before walking the course, I made sure Archie was fit, hydrated, and comfortable. Our coach joined me for the course walk, and we studied every question carefully. There was a bank, a ditch, a water complex, a curving line through woodland, and a combination that required a committed approach.
The course looked substantial but fair. We discussed the optimum time and agreed that finishing safely was more important than chasing every second. I noted where I could allow Archie to open his stride and where I needed to shorten the canter without losing impulsion. I also memorized the fence numbers around the water, because nerves can make an otherwise simple sequence confusing.
In the warm-up, Archie was forward and alert. I did not want to suppress that energy, but I needed to keep it rideable. We practiced one bank and a small brush fence, then walked quietly while waiting for our start. I visualized the first few fences and repeated my main instructions: look early, stay balanced, keep my leg on, and make the next decision before the current fence disappeared behind us.
At the start box, my nerves changed into concentration. Archie felt ready, and when I gave him the signal, he moved away positively. The opening fences came up smoothly. I kept my upper body quiet and allowed him to use his neck, which helped us establish a confident rhythm.
The bank was straightforward, and Archie stepped into the water without hesitation. I was proud of him there because water had previously made him pause during schooling. The woodland combination required more accuracy, and I focused on the line rather than the individual elements. We jumped clear over the fixed fences, although we finished outside the optimum time and collected time penalties.
Those penalties were entirely acceptable for our first novice cross-country round. I had chosen not to rush, and Archie had stayed confident throughout. The most important moment came after the final fence, when I realized we had completed the course with a horse who still felt willing and balanced. That feeling outweighed the numbers on the scoreboard.
What The Weekend Taught Us
After cooling Archie down, I loosened his tack, walked him until his breathing returned to normal, and checked his legs carefully. He ate, drank, and settled into his stable. I was tired enough to make simple mistakes, so I followed my written checklist rather than relying on memory. That routine helped me notice that one hind leg was slightly warmer than the other, though there was no filling or sensitivity. I continued to monitor it, and the warmth disappeared after further walking and rest.
We finished well down the results list, which was not a surprise. Our dressage score left room for improvement, the show-jumping rail added penalties, and the cross-country time faults reflected my conservative approach. Still, the result did not tell the entire story. We had completed all three phases, managed the atmosphere, and learned how Archie responds when the questions become more serious.
My biggest personal lesson was that preparation creates options. Because I had walked the course carefully, packed methodically, and discussed alternatives with my coach, I could make sensible choices under pressure. My biggest training lesson was the importance of maintaining the canter before a fence. Archie is capable of jumping the height, but he needs me to deliver him with balance and purpose.
The next steps from the weekend are clear:
- Improve relaxation and suppleness in the dressage work, especially near distractions.
- Practice maintaining a powerful, organized canter toward wider show jumps.
- Continue schooling water, banks, and combinations without making the exercises dramatic.
- Build fitness gradually so Archie can finish cross-country strong and recover comfortably.
- Keep using written checklists for travel, horse care, tack, and competition timings.
The journey home was quieter than the outward trip. Archie rested, and I replayed the weekend in a more useful way than simply counting penalties. Our first novice event was a test of preparation, judgment, and partnership. It showed me that progress is not measured only by ribbons or clear rounds. Sometimes it is the moment a horse walks into the water confidently, the recovery after a rail, or the decision to choose a safe rhythm over a faster one.
I am proud of Archie for meeting every question with courage, and proud of myself for staying present when the event became challenging. The score sheet will go into my competition folder, but the real record is in the lessons we brought home. I will use those lessons in our next training sessions, and I will keep documenting the ordinary work that turns a first attempt into a stronger partnership.