#ky3de

It's one horse and rider combination competing in three sports over the course of three days. First is dressage, which is often described as horse ballet (this is where the horses "crip walk" as famously said by Snoop). Dressage is about precision, obedience, and harmony. Combinations have to execute maneuvers at certain marked points in an arena in order. This is the most subjective phase of eventing, and is generally universally tolerated, rather than enjoyed.

The second phase is the one every eventer lives for, cross country. XC, as it's usually abbreviated, is the most exciting and unique phase of eventing. Combinations are timed over a track that's around four miles of natural terrain, jumping obstacles that can be straightforward "galloping fences", or multi-part "questions" that are designed to challenge the horse and rider's bravery, skill and endurance. This is also the most dangerous phase, and we have had both horses and riders die during competition. There's been a lot of movement towards making the sport a lot safer, but nothing is ever risk-free. This year, the course was around 50 jumping efforts, with an optimum time of 11 minutes, 5 seconds. These horses are really, really moving.

And that's where my volunteer position comes in! I am a mounted steward, which means I'm on my own horse, working among the crowd of spectators to keep everyone safe. As this event can draw attendance of over 30,000 people, this is an important job. Stewards are stationed around the course with our horses, making sure things go according to plan. We have whistles (if you're an eventer and have watched coverage, you've heard our whistles) that function as early warning for course officials and other volunteers, who close the track off for spectators. We also answer questions, give directions, and remind the crowd to be safe. If a rider becomes unseated, we remind the crowd to hold still and be calm, because now we have a half ton plus horse loaded with adrenaline and excitement, loose. If someone's dog is barking disruptively, we ask them to consider another place to view the action until their friend settles. If the tailgaters are getting too happy, we ask them to take it down a couple notches and consider switching to water for a while. We're something between an official, a deputy, and liaison. It's one of my favorite jobs all year, and I've been doing it for a decade now.

My horse, Pixie, is a consummate professional at this. Once we're in position at a good vantage point, she drops her head and goes to sleep, never mind what chaos is going on around her. Very nearly every year, there's a photo of her, asleep, with the crowd swirling around her, horses galloping or jumping past. She's the literal best. The stewards also very fortunate to be sponsored by the riding brand LeMieux, who gifts us very professional looking, custom embroidered riding gear to function as uniforms. It makes us readily identifiable and helps officials spot us if they need assistance.

But wait, there's more!

Really, yeah. There's another phase. The final phase is stadium jumping. This is the kind of jumping most everyone has seen pictures of, striped poles on big fancy standards. Like dressage, jumping is a sport unto itself, but is also a phase in eventing. This last phase tests the horse and rider's accuracy and grit, with the fastest time and penalties winning. At this point, everyone is tired. The poles (or rails as they're called) sit on a platform that's only barely round, so an inadvertent tap with a hoof can make the rail fall down, and cause a rider to lose a podium finish. When a combination is going through the SJ course, you could hear someone drop a pen, sneeze, or shuffle in the stands. The same breath is let out in a cheer or a groan when a pair clears, or drops a rail.