PrintIn the summer of 2008 Tik Maynard came up with a grand plan. He decided to spend a year working for some of the greatest horsemen he could find in different disciplines and writing about his experiences. So far, he has worked for Johann Hinnemann, Ingrid Klimke and David and Karen O'Connor. Although he spent the summer of 2009 at home in Vancouver, B.C., Canada, he's still working on expanding his equestrian education.
Anybody can sit on a horse. A good rider sits in the horse. A great rider becomes, in terms of balance, communication and harmony, inside their horse.
They anticipate not only which shadow their horse will shy at, but in which direction. And they do it without conscious thought. They become a brain that is nestled just behind the withers, moving in concord with their mount just as driftwood moves up and down with rolling waves.
The calf, the heels, the hands are capable of great strength if needed, as they sometimes are, but in the end they become simply aids, transferring signals from the rider to the horse the same way the brain fires messages along the neural cables to the muscles. They never force, they simply direct.
It is a great thing to see this.
I watched Ian Millar compete at Spruce Meadows in June at the 'National.’ I waited for three days for a chance to talk to him, to give him my résumé. The only place I knew I would find him was in the competition ring, and each time he came out of a class a dance would begin: he would hand his horse to his groom—with a smile and a pat, regardless of how he did in the class—then turn and talk with the reporters, sponsors, fans. He would lead them around the ringside sponsors tent, before ending in the parking lot where he would get on his motorcycle. The roar of the engine would finally silence them. A wave, and he would be gone.
Somehow I had to find a way to cut in and present my résumé.
Two days before I was due to leave, I sneaked up and thrust my résumé in front of him just as he was starting his bike. “Here,” I said. “I was wondering, if, maybe, you might have an opening for a working student.”
“Tik Maynard” he read, and glanced down the page. “You worked for Ingrid Klimke? Great. I have so much respect for her family.”
“I did.” Ingrid was one of the people who said how much I could learn from Ian. She had herself spent a while as a working student for him. She would fly to Ontario in the summers and travel down the East Coast with him, learning what it was to compete on the grand prix circuit. Sometimes grooming, or riding, sometimes walking courses with him.
“And I would love to work at a show jumping stable, too,” I added, looking him in the eye.
“Well, I can't say one way or another. My daughter is in charge of hiring. I'll pass this along to her.”
He folded my résumé four times, unevenly, and put it in his breeches pocket.
The next day I went to the show with one mission: find his daughter Amy and re-present my résumé.
Millar-Brooke Farm is based in Ontario, although the horses are on the road much of the year, and combines the riding talents of Ian and both his children, Jonathan and Amy. They have 650 acres of land just outside Perth, including rings, stables, woods, fields, trails and homes. A job, in Canada finally, with Ian Millar would be a great way to finish my stint as a working student.
