Buy The Draft Cross

“Buy the draft cross,” I whisper to myself when riding a new trail. “Buy the draft
cross,” I smile as a car passes close by us on a paved road. “Buy the draft cross,”
is a running joke shared between a few friends and I. It’s our code for a choice all
we made at different times over the last eight years or so. We all bought the draft
cross.

My eight-year-old draft cross was a choice. He’s the first horse I’ve ever actually
shopped for. My other partnerships came to me as projects with baggage for me
to fix. My warmblood gelding, bless his heart, was first imported as a high
five-figure jumper. By the time I became his owner, he cost me exactly $1.00 and
we spent five years working through his issues. (Back then I wrote about him for
Chronicle of the Horse, check it out.)

When he retired, I had no desire to ever again sit on that feeling of tension
growing and getting ready to explode. Amateur riders, you know this feeling.
Knowing that you can’t get to the bottom of that tension just breeds more fear. By
the time I hit my 40s, even with a lifetime of riding under my belt, I was so done
with that scenario.

I went looking for a Quarter Horse and found my draft cross on the internet. He
was advertised through a Western-leaning sale barn in Texas. He was wearing a
Western saddle and barely had a right lead. His breeding was Gypsy Vanner and
Missouri Fox Trotter – a combination I’d never heard of before and have never
heard of since. I knew he was perfect.

Fast forward the last four years and I’m in a place as a rider that I never expected
to be. I used to look at solid jumps with the same spookiness as my warmblood
jumper. I was not going near those things. But as my photography business grew,
I was around three day eventing more and more. I live in Northern Virginia, which
is one of the USA’s major hubs of the sport. I grew to love three-day eventing first
as a photographer: the sport has a wonderful culture of volunteerism that I hadn’t
encountered before. (I wrote about THAT seven years ago for Heels Down here.)

The eventing atmosphere filters to everyone at the event, including the
photographers. Before 2017 I had photographed and covered three-day eventing
only at the World Championships and Olympics via my career as an equestrian journalist. So I knew the sport at the elite level. But it’s the broader grassroots
community of riders that actually give eventing life.

Back to my horse. His draft cross brain translates to the smartest, steadiest,
easiest horse I’ve ever owned. When my busy career or just plain life stresses
me out, I know without fail that he will show up as the least stressful part of my
life. When I got him as a four year old, neither of us were “eventers.” We spent
our first year riding trails, fox hunting, and working on horsemanship. Then he
turned five, I pointed him at a jump, and he tucked his knees into his nose. I
hadn’t jumped in several years but it was then I knew that I was so back.

This past fall I completed my first Novice horse trials (those are solid cross
country jumps at 2’11” if you’re not familiar) and never once did I think “I am not
going near that thing.” That’s the short story, and it’s been a journey. After a
lifetime in the hunter/jumper world, eventing drew me in for so many reasons. I’m
excited to be invited to return to writing after a five year break to share that
journey.

“Buy the draft cross,” I say as I gallop on cross-country. I am so back.

Featured photo by Amy Flemming Waters.