The night-before show checklist that keeps Archie and me on track

Show mornings have a way of making ordinary jobs feel surprisingly complicated. Finding a missing number bib, remembering the horse’s water bucket, and checking the float tyres can all become urgent when the alarm is set for 3.30 am. I have learned that a calm competition day begins well before Archie walks onto the lorry.

My night-before system is built around movement rather than a single written list. I work through the day in the same order that it will happen: leaving home, arriving at the venue, preparing Archie, riding, packing up, and travelling home. That sequence helps me notice practical gaps that a general packing list can miss.

The checklist also has to suit Australian eventing. A cool morning at Werribee can turn into a warm afternoon, Brisbane humidity changes how quickly a horse dries, and traffic around Sydney or Melbourne can add an hour to a journey. I use one page for the essentials, then add a few notes for the venue, weather, and classes.

I begin with the timetable, not the tack room

The first thing I write down is the official timetable. I check the dressage time, show jumping window, cross-country briefing, course walk, prize-giving arrangements, and any gear inspection. Event programs often include several times that are easy to confuse, especially when the day involves a dressage warm-up followed by a separate cross-country course walk.

I then work backwards from the first time I need to be mounted. If Archie’s dressage warm-up starts at 7.10 am, I allow time for unloading, water, changing rugs, grooming, plaiting if required, and a quiet period for him to look around. I add travel time, a float check, and a small buffer for traffic. The final departure time goes in large writing at the top of the page.

This approach gives me a realistic alarm time rather than an optimistic one. I also record the venue address, the gate or entrance to use, and the contact number for the event secretary. Some grounds have separate entrances for competitors, and a rural property can be difficult to find before sunrise when there are no obvious signs.

I divide the page into horse, rider, and travel

A long equipment list looks impressive but is not always useful. I divide mine into three sections: Archie, me, and the journey. Under Archie I include his bridle, saddle, saddlecloths, boots, rugs, grooming kit, feed, hay, water containers, paperwork, and first-aid supplies. I write down the exact number of each item rather than relying on memory.

The rider section includes competition clothes, helmet, boots, gloves, body protector, rain jacket, sunscreen, hat, spare socks, and food. I keep a clean show shirt and a second pair of gloves in my bag because white fabric has an unfortunate habit of attracting grease, mud, and coffee before the first test. My phone charger, wallet, keys, and event membership card also go on this part of the list.

The travel section covers the float, vehicle, fuel, keys, number plates, wheel chocks, water, and rubbish bags. I check the tow vehicle’s fuel level and make sure the float is clean, ventilated, and ready before I am tired. I also put a torch in the cab, even if I expect to leave after daylight. A torch is much easier to find at home than in a dark car park with a dropped boot strap.

I pack in the order the gear will be used

I do not pack by room. I pack by the order in which I will need things at the venue. The first items accessible at the float ramp are Archie’s lead rope, headcollar, water bucket, hay, and a rug suitable for the expected temperature. His grooming box sits where I can reach it without unloading every saddle bag.

The next layer contains the dressage equipment, followed by show jumping and cross-country gear. I keep each discipline together, even when that means using separate bags. Archie’s jumping boots and over-reach boots are not mixed with his dressage boots, and spare reins are kept in a labelled pouch. This prevents a frantic search when the schedule compresses during a busy event.

I place frequently used items in clear tubs or bags with simple labels. A small transparent bag for plaiting bands, combs, and thread saves time at the venue. I also take a photo of the loaded float before closing the ramp. It is a quick visual record of where things are, and it helps me remember whether the water containers or grooming kit have already gone onboard.

I check Archie’s comfort and paperwork

The evening check is not a substitute for monitoring Archie in the morning, but it gives me a useful baseline. I look over his legs, feet, coat, eyes, and general attitude, then note anything unusual. If he has a new rub, a slightly warm leg, or seems unsettled, I want to notice it before travelling rather than after arriving at a competition.

I prepare feed in labelled bags and make sure hay is available for the journey and waiting time. In Australia, conditions can change quickly between a chilly Victorian morning and a hot afternoon, so I pack rugs and cool-down equipment for a range of temperatures. I take extra water when practical, particularly to venues where the supply may be unfamiliar or limited.

The paperwork receives its own check. I confirm the event entry, horse identification details, rider membership, vaccination records if requested, and any declarations required by the organiser. Eventing Australia rules and venue requirements can change, while animal welfare obligations are administered through state and territory legislation. I do not assume that a document accepted at one event will automatically cover another.

I prepare for Australian weather and biosecurity

The weather forecast changes how I organise the list. For a hot event, I add extra water buckets, electrolytes only if they are part of Archie’s normal management, a cooler rug, a scraper, sunscreen, and a shaded resting plan. For rain, I add waterproof covers for tack, spare towels, dry clothing, and boots that will cope with slippery ground. A weather warning can also affect travel time and venue access.

I keep a small biosecurity section on the checklist. It includes clean buckets, disinfectant, hand sanitiser, rubbish bags, and a reminder to avoid sharing equipment. I clean the float before loading Archie and check the venue’s instructions about water points, manure, wash bays, and horse movement. These habits matter when horses have travelled from different regions and are standing together in temporary yards.

Hendra virus precautions are part of the wider Australian horse-keeping conversation, especially in Queensland and northern New South Wales. I follow current veterinary and event advice rather than treating a generic list as medical guidance. The same principle applies to transporting Archie in extreme heat: I monitor conditions, ventilation, rest, and water, and I take welfare decisions seriously even when the timetable is inconvenient.

I make the rider’s morning almost automatic

The night before, I put my clothes in order from underwear to outer layers. That sounds excessive until I have tried to dress in a dark bedroom while listening for a horse who is stamping in his stable. Competition clothes are folded into one garment bag, while riding boots, helmet, body protector, and gloves sit together by the door.

I prepare breakfast and snacks that can be eaten between phases. A banana, sandwiches, muesli bars, and a large water bottle are easier than relying on a venue canteen, particularly at smaller regional events. I also carry sunscreen and lip balm because long days in open paddocks are common, even when the morning feels cool.

My phone contains screenshots of the timetable, directions, entry details, and emergency contacts. I charge it overnight and carry a power bank. I do not depend entirely on mobile reception because some Victorian, New South Wales, and Queensland venues have patchy coverage. A printed page with the essential times stays in the glovebox as a backup.

I add a small troubleshooting plan

A good checklist includes what to do when the day stops going neatly. I write down the contact details for my coach, the event secretary, the vet listed by the organiser, and anyone helping with Archie. I also note where the first-aid kit, spare gear, and basic tools are packed rather than assuming I will remember under pressure.

My repair supplies usually include spare reins, stirrup leathers or treads where appropriate, baling twine, tape, scissors, hole punch, leather conditioner, pliers, cable ties, and a tyre inflator. I do not carry a full workshop, but I want enough to deal with a broken tie, loose boot, damaged plait, or minor float problem until proper help is available.

I leave a blank space at the bottom of the page for changes. If the organiser alters a time, the weather becomes dangerous, or Archie needs a quieter plan, I write it there. The blank space stops me from squeezing new information into margins where it can be missed.

I close the evening with one final walk-through

Once everything is packed, I walk from the front door to the float and mentally rehearse the morning. I check the keys, phone, wallet, fuel, documents, horse gear, rider gear, food, and water. Then I look inside the float rather than trusting the tick marks on the page. A completed checklist is useful, but a physical glance catches the item that was placed beside the bag instead of inside it.

I set out Archie’s first rug and headcollar, put my boots beside the door, and check the alarm twice. I avoid doing unnecessary late-night jobs after that. Archie benefits from a quiet, ordinary evening, and I ride better when I have allowed myself enough sleep instead of polishing equipment that was already ready.

After the event, I keep the checklist and mark what was missing, unnecessary, or difficult to reach. A venue with no nearby shops may justify extra supplies next time, while a particular float arrangement may prove inefficient. This turns each competition into a small update to the system, so the night-before routine becomes more accurate without becoming more complicated.

When the checklist is finished, I know where everything is and why it is there. That does not guarantee a perfect day—Archie may have opinions about the warm-up, the weather may change, and cross-country can always bring an unexpected moment—but it gives us a dependable starting point. For me, that is the real value of preparing the evening before: less rushing, clearer decisions, and more attention left for the horse.