By Georganne Benesch
On my 70th birthday, this year, my buckskin German Riding Pony Mochi (Steendieks Chambertin Jr.) and I cantered up centerline and halted at X. Saluting the judge, we proceeded to ride our first FEI Intermediate I ride. I’d like to say that the nerves I had been feeling all morning just melted away. But, it was more like, “Whoa, I didn’t embarrass myself!”
Walking back to the barn, Mochi knew he was a star—demanding cookies along the way. A first-place finish with a 66% score was icing on the [birthday] cake. Amazingly, that accomplishment leaves just one (very challenging) level between me and Grand Prix.
This dressage thing all started half a lifetime ago when I bought my first horse, Rocky. The young, off-the-track Thoroughbred was an illogical impulse buy. Cheap, yes; safe, no. He had a talent for spinning, spooking, and bolting, but not so much for dressage. He eventually grew up and relaxed, and was ready for his next home—one with a lot of pasture and a little trail riding.
After Rocky, the horses that came into my life were just what I needed at just the right time.
Bombproof as they come, Veda was practically perfect. My partner for 20 years, she helped me find confidence and a real love for dressage. Veda was also the girl who carried me to Third Level and my USDF Bronze Medal. And while she loved to jump, I did not, because, well, it’s jumping.
Lucy the redhead took me to Prix St. Georges, earning me my silver medal. The tried-and-true schoolmaster may not have been the fanciest one, but she was exactly the horse for me. Lucy was a boss mare who made me work every step of the way to gain new skills and become a better rider.
Guinness, the devilish buckskin with flashy gaits, showed me the thrill of earning scores in the 70s, but I couldn’t keep him sound. And CeeLo, the retired jumper, was my soft landing after hard emotional falls.
My trainer (and sometimes therapist), Kelly Casey Mykrantz of KC Dressage, has been central to advancing my dressage skills for years. From First Level through FEI, she has raised the bar every step of the way. There’s no rushing through to the next one—especially the dreaded Second Level, which I still swear today I will never ride again.
I was 65 when I went horse shopping in Europe. Kelly gave me the push to make it happen. Bob Tenwolde, an international dressage trainer, was the one who made it possible. Over four days and across hundreds of kilometers I tried out ten talented horses that he thought would be suitable for me. Knowing my riding skills, abilities, and goals, Bob was the ultimate host and coach. From picking me up at the airport to testing each horse before I got on, he guided me throughout the process and supported my final decision. He even did the dirty work, pulling my boots off after every ride.
Mochi wasn’t the biggest mover, was over my budget, and had no show record. But the six-year-old German Riding Pony had tons of potential and irresistible charisma. My buckskin addiction clinched the deal. Mochi was coming home with me.
When Mochi finally made it to California, it wasn’t always a bed of roses. At first he was surprisingly spooky, both at home and away. Fortunately, as we worked our way up the levels and he settled in, I learned to turn his occasional mischief into positive energy.
With Mochi, falling off is not so much of a concern, but “senior moments” sometimes are. I’ve been known to go off course now and then, even when the “course” is my own. Mochi and I had a fun Third Level freestyle choreographed to the music of Queen. After an unbelievable debut with a score of 76%, I managed to earn our lowest score not much later. Somewhere in the middle of “You’re My Best Friend,” I lost my way in the choreography. While I more or less got back on track, I somehow managed to do what (I have to believe) no one has ever done before. Without even realizing it, my final salute was one with Mochi’s butt and my back to the judge—an embarrassment I may never get over.
After that birthday ride high, the comedown was fast and hard.
Just a few weeks later my husband, Dave, was diagnosed with cancer. Surgery and a slow recovery made caregiving practically a full-time job. It was Mochi and the KC Dressage family that carried me through some tough times. I did miss regional championships this year, but it was without one minute of regret. As it turns out, neck ribbons and honor rounds are not really what’s important in life. And I’m happy to report Dave’s prognosis is very good.
I never wanted to make riding at the highest levels of dressage my goal. There’s just too much room for disappointment. But now, while I’m hesitant to put it in writing and knock on wood daily, Grand Prix seems like a real possibility.
Meanwhile, Mochi continues his endless quest for cookies. And because he’s the most endearing horse in the barn, everyone delivers.
