Who's Got the Spooks?

Winter riding in New England is not for the faint of heart or weak of core.  Holy shit.  Two days ago, I sat the biggest spook Princess has ever produced. I swear we were coming around the corner at K, a drop of condensation fell into the two-inch square of Princess's back where the quarter sheet had slipped back behind the saddle enough to expose her poor, naked back to the elements, and, suddenly, we were somewhere Northeast of X.  Whether it's due to luck, the connection I had between her mouth and my back, or my new Custom Icon Flight, I'll never know, but I stayed on and barely moved.  As a matter of fact, we turned to the right and did that corner again, without incident.

At this point in time, before we ride, we have to despook.  We walk into the scary corners, both of us on our feet, and have a treat and a chat.  Then we lunge into the spooky corners and on the track by the spooky door, both at the walk and the trot.  Then we have another treat. Then we move out into the indoor and begin to work in a relaxed trot, which is developing more and more lift through the body.  After we've cantered both ways on the lunge line, halt on the circle without turning in, we get another treat, and head for the mounting block. At the mounting block (we're facing the scary door and the scary corner), we worry.  Yes, oh, my god, we're going to have to walk that track from the scary door through the scary corner in a matter of minutes.  Nonetheless, I get on, Princess holds still, and then we have a conversation that goes something like this:

"But, Scot, I can't put my head down and look at the scary door at the same time."

"Yes, you can."

"Uh, no.  No, I really don't think I can."

Yes, you can."

"Uh...let me grab the bit and pull really hard, then I get all the control."

"Let me have the bit."

"Let me have the bit."

"Ha, ha.  I win."  (That's Scot talking.)

"Can we go now? What's the hold up?" (That's Princess talking.)

Today, my friend Melinda and I decided that the continued spook in the K corner was now an act of either habit or disobedience, and it was time to deal with it.  Of course, that's a much easier decision to make when you're standing on the ground, as opposed to the helmeted body of aging bones on top of the 1300 pounds of resistance. Nonetheless, we approached the fated corner at a solid working trot. I squeezed with my calves and insisted we keep moving forward. Princess slowed to pre-passage and began listing to the left.  I put her into a shoulder in position and moved her closer to the wall. She tried to stop.  I engaged la dressage whip. She said, "Now, why did you do that?"  While she was thinking about it, I lifted her forward and we were around the corner.  

"Good girl!  GOOD girl!" (That was me again.)

"Is that all you wanted?  Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

We did a 10 meter circle and headed back into the corner.  Again, she thought about it just a second too long, so la dressage whip.  We were around the corner. By the time we were cantering, there was no more issue with the corner.  My guess is, however, that tomorrow, we'll have to have another conversation about it.