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On the Buckle
Equestrian Heroes by Whitney Weston
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hat happens when we meet our heroes? We feel inspired, in awe, and want to be just like them one day. I’ve had a wild career thus far, spanning the states and overseas with adventures. But no matter how far your travels take you, and how long you are in the horse game, there are pros at the top to learn from and aspire to be. Here are some stories of when I met such idols. It started when I was a freshman at Bryn Mawr College, just outside of Philadelphia, and I “got a wild hair” to drive up to Maryland for the big Fair Hill International Event. David and Karen O’Connor, heavily decorated Olympians, were signing autographs. They both signed a cute plush horse that was wearing a Fair Hill International T-shirt for me as I stood speechless with mouth hung open. I’m sure I was very impressive! Ever the pros, they smiled at me and then greeted the next awe-struck eventing-obsessed young rider. I still have that palm-sized toy; it lives in my tacktrunk that I take to competitions—a little reminder of the dream to keep it fresh. The more I was able to work at the upper levels, the more I got familiar with the famous faces, and they started to remember me, too. Once I was at a competition, in a very stressful warmup arena with a young and talented horse. It was a hot Virginia summer. The sandy space was packed with way too many horses going fast and vying for an opportunity to jump one of the three fences available to prep for their show round. The gatekeeper was having the hardest time keeping competitors on track and heading to the show ring in orderly fashion. So legend Kim Severson took charge. She was mounted and had her own horse to get through warmup, but thought nothing of stepping in to help when it was needed. She guided an overwhelmed volunteer (who was only armed with a clipboard and walkie-talkie) to organize this stampede of jumpers out of the arena and on their way to compete. I was able to observe this out of the corner of my eye only, as I was in trouble myself. My young horse took
50 ASOUTHERNSOPHISTICATION
U.S. Olympian Karen O’Connor, and one of our writer’s heroes.
exception to all the noise and drama around him and began to misbehave by bucking and kicking out. Even so, I knew I only had a few shots at a jump to prepare him for the daunting course ahead. I saw an opening to a jump, claimed it by calling out loud, “Oxer!”, and made a turn for it. As soon as the coast was clear and I was able to leave the arena wall, I immediately saw the oxer had grown to max size (the jump crew had raised it while I was at the opposite end of the ring), and therefore I was too underpaced for the size of the obstacle. I was galloping toward the jump, and for a split second I froze. Too late to turn (I would run into horses barreling towards jumps on either side of me), and I couldn’t stop. Through the haze of the stampede, I hear Kim shouting out, “Leg, Whitney!” and in that moment I felt her strength and determination come through me. In that split second I snapped to attention, sat tall, closed my leg around my horse’s belly and looked toward the heavens hoping for the best. We made it over, fairly ungracefully, but safely.
