Like all of the kids at the barn, we did a lot of trail riding, a lot of mostly friendly competing, and a great deal of dreaming and scheming about the future.   I remember long trails with Sandy telling her how someday I was going to ride Grand Prix, and her and I doing plenty of light debating as to how horses should be trained and cared for.  Overall, she was a good older sister type friend during this period of my life.  We were both struggling, middle class young adults with a driving passion for an expensive hobby.  I was more into the showing hunter/jumper end of the world, and Sandy seemed satisfied at the time with primarily trail riding, but we were definitely equally serious in our passion for horses. 

 

Right after graduating from high school my family moved back to Colorado and I started my college education at CSU in Fort Collins.  My father then retired in Wisconsin and after my college years were basically finished at UW-Madison (I followed my family after spending 2 years at school in Colorado), I spent a 5 year stint working in California (as a professional trainer and newspaper journalist/congressional aide), only to eventually find myself back in Wisconsin on the farm my parents finally came to acquire. 

 

Throughout most of this time Sandy and I continued to be friends.  Both of our financial situations had seen several highs and lows, but Sandy shortly after high school had be friended and become the employee of a very wealthy older woman named Grace Shaw Kennedy.  Grace and her brother David, who was an adult disabled gentleman, had inherited a large sum of money from their family and lived quite well on the interest.  Sandy was officially employed to be David’s caretaker, but the job seemed more like a family-beneficiary type relationship.  Sandy and Grace eventually purchased several properties and settled in an area in New Hampshire, with a fairly large equine facility and group of horses.  All of the sudden my friend who had owned one Arabian and was constantly on the verge of having her car re possessed was traveling to Europe and importing top Irish bred and European horses. She was putting horses in training with Olympic level grand Prix riders, lessoning with top local dressage trainers, etc. 

 

Though I was sort of off in my own world doing my own thing, we did stay connected and Sandy drew me in to some of the benefit of her new found success.  I met and spent quite a bit of time with her new husband John Ladd and Grace and David while living in Massachusetts.  I trained a few horses for Grace in high school, and she was always very kind and flattering, often calling me a horse whisperer of sorts.  After moving, I would occasionally fly out to New Hampshire and visit or train or lesson, and sometimes show.  We would spend Thanksgivings together, spent a lot of time talking on the phone about horses and had a few mutual friends from high school we would socialize with.  Sandy seemed to be the only real connection that stuck from my happy time in Massachusetts as a teenager, which for the most part was a childhood that I had begrudgingly lost, and seemed a million miles away. 

 

Shortly after I had finished college in Madison and moved to California for my first training job, Grace and Sandy had purchased a 3 year old Irish Draught stallion named Cradilo (pronounced Crade-low, the ‘I’ is silent) from Ireland.  They had met what sounded like a neat French woman named Chantel Dion who was married to a French play write, but lived in Ireland and bred top horses.  She apparently had one of the top Irish Draught Grand Prix jumping mares in Ireland, and was breeding her to the number one Irish Draught stallion at the time.  She was unwilling to sell the first colt (Cradilo, whom she had named after a puppet monster character in the local play) until he was replaced by a second colt.  So Sandy and Grace waited for the hoped arrival of the 2nd colt, and after he came they were allowed to purchase Cradilo. 

 

It was Sandy who had picked Cradilo out of the field in Ireland, and I often wondered what it was about him that had captured her heart.  Of course, eventually I would come to understand.  But Sandy deserves credit for seeing through what I know from pictures at the time was a less than glamourous 2 year old draught standing in a wet field with a group of other colts.  To say that Sandy was excited about this purchase was an understatement, and so the stories began via the phone about Cradilo (jumping out of his 6’ quarantine breeding paddock, etc); a young stallion I had yet to meet.   

 

Eventually Sandy had Cradilo going under saddle via a local western trainer, and she felt by the age of 4 he was ready to begin jumping lightly.  He also needed to be inspected and approved by the Irish Draught Society of North America so he could be a registered standing Irish Draught in the US.  The inspection and annual show was in Virginia that year, and the plan was to fly me out from California to introduce him to jumping as much as feasible within a couple of weeks, and then to go to Virginia for the inspection and show.  So I flew out, and my introduction to Cradilo began. 

 

The first couple of weeks are a bit of a blur, as I was feeling some serious pressure to get this young Irish Stallion introduced to jumping, make a decent showing in the US and have him approved.  I remember Sandy and I trailering several times to a local stable in New Hampshire to use their course of jumps, and being surprised at how quickly and easily he trained up.  But it wasn’t until we arrived at the beautiful private show grounds in Virginia that we were able to relax a little (the pressure of prepping and getting there being finally dissipating).  It’s from this time that the first memories and impressions of Cradilo are truly vivid. 

 

To put it mildly, Cradilo was absolutely spectacular.  He was this massive 17.1 hand gorgeous, perfectly conformed, large boned chestnut stallion, full of chrome; with a temperament that was hard to believe.  The horse show environment was definitely his cup of tea, as he livened up and become more animated compared to home; but he was still this incredibly sweet, confident, gentle, easy to handle young stallion.  I can remember sitting on him at that show and telling Sandy I felt like a queen simply being on his back. 

 

For such a green jumper, he was amazing in the ring.  He had a few rails here and there, but for the most part he packed around the 3’6” course as if he had been doing it for years.  It was the big open cross country field hunter class though that I remember the best.  I was shocked at how balanced and smoothly this huge ‘never ever’ horse galloped around those hilly fields, hoping over the solid jumps as if he had been doing it forever.  It felt as smooth as glass and as powerful and easy as a tractor pulling around a ten pound wheel barrel.  As a horseman I didn’t quite understand at that time what I was feeling, but I knew it was really good and unlike anything else I had ever felt before.

 

I no longer remember all the details of Cradilo’s wins at that show, but I know he was handily approved and the Supreme Irish Draught Champion of the year in the US as a result, and we all definitely went home happy.                        

 

So Sandy and I went back to our scheming, and we decided that I should come to work for her in New Hampshire.  I had just quit my job in Sacramento as a professional trainer, feeling a little overwhelmed by and emotionally un prepared for the long hours in the ring and pushy wealthy student’s parents.  I left all my tack and riding clothes/equipment at Sandy’s, and went home to make preparations for the move.    

 

In the meantime, Sandy and I continued hashing out the details of my employment, and it became obvious I was not going to be allowed to bring my horses along (maybe one).  I had 4 or 5 ex race horse thoroughbreds at the time a partner and I had purchased in hopes of making it to the Grand Prix ring.  Though I was willing to lighten the load a little, we had a great deal invested in these horses and were having some real success with one in particular (we had successfully negotiated our first Grand  Prix Derby at Pebble Beach).  Despite a large amount of the country beginning to revert strongly to the European warm bloods, I was holding on with a death grip to the idea that I could produce and eventually breed thoroughbreds for the Grand Prix ring.         

 

This, along with some other power struggles and drama that seemed to constantly surround my relationship with Sandy, was enough for me to distrust and change my mind about the move back to New England.  This was all sort of highlighted by the fact that Sandy refused to give me back my saddle, hard hat and other equipment I had left in New Hampshire having anticipating a move.  It took several months (I want to say closer to a half year) and the threat of a law suit to finally get a box of my stuff back, and my nice fairly new French saddle looked like it had been sitting out in the rain for a large amount of that time. 

 

I suppose this is where some people would say you should have known things could get ugly in this relationship.  But, because of all the moving long term friendship is a rare and valuable commodity in my life, so though we didn’t talk for a few years, eventually we struck up the friendship again and began dialoging. 

 

As this dialog was going on, I heard stories about Cradilo being in training with various horseman and the slow long path that eventually led to his failed competition career and retirement.  After me it sounded like Sandy found an ambitious dressage trainer named Mickey to take over Cradilo’s training and career.  They had success in a few local dressage shows and apparently Cradilo was doing 3rd level dressage within a year.  However, during this stint Cradilo developed a breathing disorder (that I eventually came to believe was the result of too quickly forced collection and an un naturally high head set), which required tie back surgery.  Somewhere in here Mickey moved on, and Cradilo I believe was sent to Tufts University for the surgery. 

 

From what I was told, the veterinarian who did the surgery on him opened up his throat and realized the string he had to surgically tie back Cradilo’s phalanx wasn’t strong enough, so he simply chose to cut it out.  I know, hard to believe, but given the result it’s definitely a true story.  So, Cradilo came home and shortly after went in to training with Kevin Babbington (Olympic level Irish Grand Prix rider based in New England).  Apparently, Kevin absolutely loved Cradilo and there were hopes of him being his next Prix horse.  But, Cradilo’s surgery came back to haunt him, and he went in to pneumonia.  I did eventually meet and speak with Kevin at a later date about Cradilo, and he told me at one point the stallion was coughing so hard in the trailer he was afraid he was going to pass out.  So, he sent Cradilo home, and it was agreed upon by everyone that he would be retired and become strictly a breeding stallion. 

 

At some point in this period Sandy and I began doing business together again.  By this time I had relocated back to Wisconsin and was working on putting together a small training and breeding program.  I knew I was in a poor location for developing clients for the hunter/jumper industry, but the 135 acres farm seemed an ideal location for breeding and training horses.  I had continued on with my dream of breeding thoroughbreds for the open jumper ring, and my parents and I had invested quite a bit into collecting top race horse bloodlines in the form of thoroughbred mares before they had the chance to go to the track.  We were also breeding these mares to an admired stakes winning race horse stallion in the Midwest named Honest Ensign. 

 

Sandy hosted a few clinics for me in New Hampshire, which eventually led to clinics and a private winter training job in Naples, FL.  She began sending me some of her Irish offspring for training, and I had some good results showing and selling in Florida and throughout the country.  With time I slowly began warming up to the idea of breeding my throroughbred mares to warmblood stallions, and started looking at horses in the Midwest and other areas.  I compared everything I saw to Cradilo though.  With time and some scrutiny I eventually decided the Irish stallion was the one I needed to get serious about breeding to.   Sandy tried shipping me semen and for some reason we weren’t getting mares caught.  So I sent 3 mares to New Hampshire for the summer, and only one caught (Red Charisma produced Tzadi, our first Cradilo foal). 

 

As all this was going on Sandy’s marriage was beginning to collapse and Grace was becoming more and more involved with what I would eventually come to consider a cultish Christian Scientist group in California.  As things continued to get ugly with her husband, Grace picked up with David and moved to live with this commune of sorts on the West Coast, leaving Sandy behind with a beautiful paid for farm, but a large overhead in terms of the horses.  Sandy was panicking a bit, looking for places for the horses to be without selling them.  She was concerned about her husband laying claim to Cradilo or other horses, and also seemed to fear for his well being.  I had visited a few times and been a bit disappointed at how he looked as all of this was going on, and had mentioned it to Sandy.  He had been a little thin and sore from just being trimmed one time in particular, and I could see the personal relationship problems were not impacting well on the horses.  

 

Sandy asked me if I would consider taking Cradilo.  She was willing to give me a lot of his breeding equipment, and though I had had several courses and internships on breeding, she was going help show me what needed to be done in terms of having a breeding stallion on the farm.  My parents were adamantly against me having a stallion there, and though I was a bit overwhelmed at the prospect, I was also enticed by the idea.  I had stallions before in training and knew the work load, but there was something about Cradilo in particular I was drawn to.  I was concerned about the finances involved (I knew Sandy was not directly in a position at the time to help) but she promised me she would not leave me on my own in this endeavor for long, financially or otherwise.  

 

We also discussed competition.  I made it clear I could not see having a horse like Cradilo on the farm without at least trying to get him going again and competing.  She warned me that this would probably be a useless endeavor, but gave me the go ahead to try.  So, with quite a bit of prodding I was finally able to get my parents to begrudgingly accept us moving Cradilo to the property, and without knowing it I was about to make a move that would change my entire life. 

 

Not completely realizing what I was getting in to, I sort of naively packed up the trailer and a couple of my teenage students (who I thought would enjoy the cross country trip) and we headed off to New Hampshire to pick up Cradilo.  It was not long after I arrived at Sandy’s farm that I came to understand just how bad things were.  John (her soon to be ex husband) was now living somewhere else but still around the farm.  He was really not happy at that at the prospect of me taking the stallion, and made this clear.  Sandy and John were soon getting in to some very intense fights over the prospect of Cradilo leaving, and after a few days it culminated in Sandy throwing a garbage can through the window of John’s truck.  John then proceeded to call the cops and had Sandy hauled off the farm to jail.  We were only supposed to stay a day or two, and ended up sitting on top of the hill in Grace’s vacant house, waiting for the go ahead to take Cradilo. 

 

John claimed the horse was partially his and couldn’t leave, and Sandy was attempting to contact lawyers and Grace (from off the premises, as by this point she was restricted from the farm) so that some sort of permission could be shown and obtained.  In the meantime my teenage students and I were overdue to leave and not having a good time, parents were becoming worried back home, and it appeared that some sort of legal paperwork allowing me to take Cradilo might not come anytime soon.  I decided the entire situation was becoming too much, and told Sandy I was leaving that night, with or without the horse.  Finally, at the last minute I received a fax and signed document from Grace simply thanking me for taking her horse, and giving me permission to do so.  Of course at this point it was still sort of unclear and arguable as to who the horse actually belonged to, but this seemed to somewhat satisfy everyone involved.  I received a faxed coggins at the same time as well, and that was the totality of the legal paperwork I was given involving Cradilo. And at the time; with all the chaos it seemed a minor miracle to even obtain that.

 

So, the kids and I and the stallion headed down the road towards Wisconsin; still sort of stunned at the drama that had just unfolded; but happy the long trip hadn't turned out after all to be in vain.  

 

Cradilo at the Farm

 

I obtained Cradilo in 2006 at the age of 13 years (I was 36 years old).  The first thing I noticed is Cradilo was not the same 4 year old I had known 9 years earlier.  He was still kind, and fairly easy to handle, but there was an edginess that hadn’t been there before.  And there were some physical ramifications that were quite concerning at first.  Everything he ate came back out his nose mostly in the form of a green hay goo … which he regularly coughed and splattered all over whatever happened to be in front of him.  And the more upset or worried he appeared to be, the more he coughed.  Sometimes he would go into coughing spasms, and not appear to be able to breath for a few seconds at a time.  He hadn’t been in work for a long time, and this was apparent in his atrophied musculature and his dropped back.  Plain and simple, though Cradilo was alive and clearly had a strong will to fight and go on, he was a broken down horse. 

 

But he was mine now, and though I didn’t know it at the time, I would not see (or have any help financial or otherwise from) Sandy or Grace for 3 1/2 years from this point forward.  Sandy and I would talk on the phone, but the conversations were so obsessed with and paranoid about the dramatic and unpleasant divorce that she was going through that I found myself often dreading the conversations. 

 

Having given a pretty solid shot at the idea of becoming a successful hunter/jumper trainer in California, and finding that the upper echelon of the industry was quite closed and difficult to break in to, I returned home satisfied to own a small equine business, settle in to the local small farm town community and perhaps raise a family.  I was married to a local non horseman, began teaching quite a bit, hosting small unrated horse shows, working part time and training and breeding a few horses. 

 

So, life was fairly simple and quiet, and this gave me the time and focus to really understand Cradilo, and grant him the patience and space he needed to heal.  Being a stallion, he lived the typical solitary life, and my heart sort of ached for how lonely and sad he appeared to be.  I desperately wanted to find a friend for him of some sort, knowing the importance of a social life to any equine, but Sandy warned me he would not accept (and might likely kill) anything but a mare.  Given his large size and ambitious attitude towards any mares in the area, it seemed a dangerous gamble for most of my smaller thoroughbred mares, and so I resigned myself to the idea that Cradilo would have to live alone and rely on me for physical contact and friendship.  I tried to keep his turn out as close as possible to the other horses, and the window from his large double size stall opened directly looking out in to the mare’s paddock; allowing him in my mind to have a harem of sorts, and live a social life somewhat vicariously through the other horses. 

 

I didn’t go into the situation intending to spend hours and hours a day on Cradilo.  I had horses in training and students and was doing a little showing; I had a family, but it just appeared to be what he so desperately wanted and needed.  Cradilo more than anything wanted attention and a purpose; and I found myself inexplicably drawn to his overpowering personality and physical presence. 

 

So I began caring for and riding Cradilo, as if he were perfectly healthy young horse and had a bright future ahead of him.  It became obvious fairly quickly that he desired to be healthy, and the coughing had a strong emotional component.  If he was overly worried or pushed, if I picked up the reins and confined him, he would go in to coughing spasms.  And so I spent hours and hours walking the hills of our 135 acre farm on Cradilo on as much of a loose rein as I could manage. 

 

Gradually we began trot work, and then canter work, and slowly but surely he would manage a couple of minutes without coughing, and then 10 – 15 minutes with only a single cough or two.  Eventually we galloped up hills, and I learned to coax and sooth him with my hands and body language so that he stayed relaxed and unworried.  I quickly figured out if I pushed too much too fast, particularly with collection, he would panic and go into coughing spasms.  So I focused on an even rhythm that he could depend on, stretching to develop and raise his topline rather than collection, and building muscle and cardiovascular strength through hill work. 

 

It was still at this point hard to imagine jumping a fence was a possibility and the thought of any kind of course seemed totally implausible, but things were definitely improving, so I just kept plugging along.  I don’t remember exactly how many months of this we did, but I know he came to the farm mid summer; and I know the rest of that summer and well into the fall was spent picking away at rebuilding him physically. 

 

Then one day it seemed it would be fun to try a jump.  Then a few days later it was a couple of jumps, and before I knew it we were cantering around 4’ courses.  The horse absolutely loved to jump and was a complete natural.  I had never jumped 4’ on a relatively green student (a couple of weeks of training with me and a couple of months of training with Kevin) and felt such confidence and ease.  And the absolutely shocking miracle of it all was the fact that when he got on course he seemed to forget about all his physical ailments and would rarely cough a single time throughout.  Commonly as soon as we finished and I pulled him up he would quickly remember his disability and go in to a bit of a coughing spasm, but as long as he was focused on those jumps all was well in the world and Cradilo was strong and healthy.     

 

So much to my shock, not only did I have a stunning and impeccably bred stallion to breed my mares to, now it appeared I might have a true competition horse.  The thought of riding Grand  Prix at this point wasn’t even a glimmer in my mind, but I knew this guy was special; and a couple of experiences early on in that first year would help to drill that point home. 

 

Out in to the Public

 

The first was a horse show at Ledges (an indoor Chicago winter series rated show) in January of 2007.  He had been fairly easily jumping around 4’ courses by that fall, and I thought it would be fun to try our hand at a show and see how it went.  Cradilo was definitely an absolute ham and loved attention.  By now we had become great friends; he seemed to trust me completely and realize that though I wanted him to have a job, I was not going to ask him to do something he wasn’t on board with.  I suspected he would once again love the uninterrupted attention of a horse show, and that he trusted my intentions for him enough to handle the natural stress that always seems to go along with showing. 

 

I remember starting with a fairly easy 3’6” course and feeling it went extremely well, and he was almost a little bored with the height.  He was heavy enough that I knew I needed to keep his interest to encourage him to keep the rails up, and I remember going in to the ring and hearing people on the sidelines stating he was too big and heavy to jump.  A few years ago I probably would have agreed, but Cradilo had other ideas and was about to show all of us that power and heart are more important than the supposedly proper body type for a show jumper. 

 

This was also the first time I became truly aware of the insane amount of hind end power Cradilo possessed.  The Ledges indoor warm up ring is tiny and chaotic.  It was an intense environment to test a gigantic stallion trying out his first rated jumping show in.  But, it’s what there is relatively close in the winter, so we were giving it a go and working on our final warm up oxer for our first 4’ class.  About a stride out from the fence and moving with quite a bit of momentum because of the short approach, a groom casually walked behind the large oxer toting along a small gray pony.  Rather than stop, Cradilo decided he would jump the oxer and the pony who suddenly appeared on the back side of the fence.  He launched himself into the air (fortunately for the pony and groom) handily clearing them both, and literally catapulted me straight up out of the stirrups.  I continued on a couple of feet into the air, and landed on my head.  By some miracle I was not seriously hurt, and though I was sore (and would be for a few weeks) I managed to get back on and finish with a good solid ride.  But, I had never in my life felt hind end power like that, nor did I know it was even possible.  It opened my eyes to how a big jump could feel; and was the beginning of what would prove to be a dramatic and continuously entertaining show jumping career for Cradilo and I. 

 

The second experience that opened my eyes to the fact that Cradilo and I weren’t just a back woods team that had been thrown together (and were venturing in to a realm that we truly didn’t belong in), was a clinic I took with Niall Grimes that following Spring.  Niall was an imported Irish Grand Prix rider who had come in to the US working as an assistant trainer for Laura Kraut, based out of the Milwaukee area.  I had cliniced with him the previous year on a couple of my thoroughbred mares and shown him one of the well-bred Irish jumpers I had for sale while briefly competing in Wellington, working out of Naples for a few months the previous winter.  Niall was definitely an up and coming Prix level horseman deep in the mix of top level training and riding.  It was apparent by the couple of interactions I had with him that he knew what he was doing, and solid evaluations and help for potential jumpers are not something one finds easily in Northern Wisconsin (Niall was giving somewhat regular clinics at Otter Creek Farm in Menominee, Wisconsin). 

 

Cradilo seemed a little more nervous than usual by the clinic atmosphere (this would be the one and only clinic I would ever ride him in), so he was coughing quite a bit and was sore in the hind end from some (unbeknownst to me) overly ambitious grid work I had done the week before.  Needless to say, we were far from our best possible form at that time.  But the reaction from this horseman who was regularly surrounded by some of the top horses in the world was so clear and powerful that it opened my eyes to the quality of Cradilo as a sport horse (not just a foundation breeding stallion).  While I expected a similar reaction to the Ledges crowd, it was obvious that Niall somehow saw potential that I had been afraid to even dare to hope for, and he absolutely loved this stallion.  I thought perhaps Cradilo was bringing back memories of home, but he made a comment later that solidified his feeling on the situation.  I very seriously asked Niall if he felt I was pushing the stallion too hard, or if I should attempt to go all the way with him.  And he looked at me and just very quietly said, “I strongly suggest that you go for it.” 

 

That was huge for me.  All of the sudden I was no longer alone in this.  My feeling that perhaps there was something truly amazing and magical happening with this horse was solidified by someone who had a better idea than I did (as he was already solidly there and winning).  I had brought one thoroughbred off the track to a brief couple of experiences with the Grand Prix ring in California; but we had to fight hard for each of those rides.  With a little more experience and observation it eventually became obvious that my thoroughbreds did not possess the hind end power to consistently handle those big courses, and so almost all of my pursuit of the Grand Prix ring ended with disappointment after disappointment, horse after horse.  But thanks to that one unforgettable comment I was inspired on the one horse I least expected to take me consistently to the place I had always wanted to go. And I went for it.

 

So, though Niall was traveling and a bit all over the map, he was definitely going to be in Kentucky that summer, and was planning to attend Trader’s Point Charity Horse Show in Indianapolis in August.  I don’t remember all the details of showing that year, but I do remember beginning a tradition that would keep the entire 5 plus years I had Cradilo;  prepping him for the ultimate test of the grass field Grand Prix at Trader’s Point for a large portion of the summer. So the plan was to meet Niall at Trader’s for hopefully our first Grand Prix, and then continue on to Kentucky. 

 

As it turned out, Niall had a pretty bad fall in May in a Grand Prix jump off in Lexington (catching a long distance to an oxer), and ended up injuring his knee and his horse Mr. President, as he flipped over on Niall and both were carried out of the ring in an ambulance.  So, much to my disappointment, he was no longer going to be at Trader’s.  He recommended that I ride with a good friend of his based out of Minneapolis that would be there who was having a great deal of success in the Grand Prix ring, Scott Lenkart.  As it turned out I was little shy at the prospect of just calling someone I didn’t know up and then schooling with them in a big venue.  I would eventually seek out following Niall’s recommendation and working with Scott would happen at a later time, but under somewhat sad and unforeseen circumstances.

 

So I went there on my own to attempt my first real Grand Prix.  Trader’s Point is a wonderful charity horse show that happens yearly in Indianapolis with a long tradition and a fantastic atmosphere.  It’s one of the few shows in the Northern Midwest that regularly draws many of the top riders in the world, has a gorgeous grass ring with the feel and difficulty of an international competition, and incorporates all the awesome pomp and circumstance once likes to see at a top horse show.  The Mayor of Indianapolis often gives an introduction, I’ve seen ring fly overs from air force jets, and hundreds of families are parked out in chairs and blankets on the expansive lawn looking down on the ring. 

 

It’s hard to put into words the excitement I felt stepping in to this world through Trader’s Point, after a lifetime of wanting to be there.  Suddenly for the first time I was in the warm up ring with riders and trainers I had read about and admired my entire life.  It was intimidating … but also exhilarating.  The idea was to do a couple of 1.3m warm ups to give Cradilo a chance to get use to the impressive ring, and then if things went well enter the smaller $30K Grand Prix at the end of the week.  As it turned out, Cradilo loved the environment of Trader’s Point as much as I did.  I always thought something about the incredibly green grass jumping field must have taken him back to his days on the fields of Ireland, or maybe galloping across the grass was simply in his blood having come from strong hunting stock.  Whatever it was, he absolutely shined in that particular environment.  He loved the energy, he loved the large crowds, and he went amazingly well considering our experience level. 

 

Often times when I see young green riders and horses experiencing a lot of initial success at this level I think it is the energy of their excitement, and frankly their lack of knowledge of bad experiences.  I would say at this particular point Cradilo and I were in this realm … we didn’t know enough to realize just how hard and dangerous it could or was supposed to be … and we were both so excited to finally be in the limelight after a lifetime of being in the background that it didn’t matter anyway.

 

I must have been wandering around looking a bit lost, because early in the week I caught the attention of one of the older trainers who I immediately found myself drawn to, Dennis Mitchell. Dennis was wearing what I would eventually learn was his typical garb, a cowboy hat and boots, jeans and a button down western shirt. I couldn’t help but be drawn to the paradox of a western image so well presented in a fully ‘English countryside’ environment.  There was something about his attitude and joking manner that imbued confidence with a bit of mischievousness, and I quickly came to realize I had stumbled upon a large and influential fish in quite a small pond.  He had been a successful Grand Prix trainer and rider for years enjoying most of his winnings on thoroughbreds, spent a great deal of time in the Midwest, and he had helped to produce many now top horseman throughout the years.  Dennis thought Cradilo was impressive; he told me he reminded him of an older German type Holsteiner.  He also told me he had purchased and attempted the Grand Prix ring with an Irish Draught himself, and it hadn’t worked out.  So, I asked him if he would school Cradilo and I for the rest of the show, and to my relief he agreed to help us out. 

 

As I walked my first big Grand Prix course with Dennis and his good friend David Jennings (another rider in the class that day), I found myself just taking it all in.  There is an incredible amount of strategy involved in riding at this level, and looking back on it now it’s amazing that Cradilo and I came through those first few years unscathed.  I listened to everything he recommended we do and made a point of trying to absorb the myriad of details, but I was pretty overwhelmed by the initial intensity of what I had chosen to attempt.  Beezie Madden had several horses in the class, Margie Engle, Karen Cudmore … and as I’ve learned over the years it’s hard to be competitive when you are star struck and frankly just thrilled to be a part of it all. 

 

But we went out there, and had a beautiful round with just one rail.   Cradilo’s large size and powerful (and slightly green) over jumping completely awestruck the crowd, and we were a hit.  The one rail I had came at the end of the ride as we were finishing the final line.  Dennis had warned me that it was too long a distance and I should ride it off my eye, but I came to that last line in slight disbelief that we were actually clean.  I lost focus for a millisecond and then tried to regain it by finding the 12 stride distance I had walked at first, and had an overly long spot to an unforgiving oxer.  I remember afterwards sitting at the in gate with Charlie Jayne, a relatively young Grand Prix rider at that time, hoping for a top 12 placing, but Cradilo and I were just out of the ribbons.    

 

The power of this initial experience was life altering.  Dennis had clearly been a little surprised at such a solid round coming from a completely unknown team as well.  Ever the competitor, he was disappointed that we were so close to going clean if I had only followed his advice, but Cradilo and I definitely had his attention.  Unknown horses and riders do not just show up at huge A shows out of no where and go Grand Prix.  Almost always, green on green makes black and blue, particularly at this level, and that is exactly what we were.  I had my fair share of B shows growing up on the East Coast training with Mitch Steege, a short bout in Florida and a decent amount of A showing in California after college, but I was completely new to the A circuit show jumping scene in the Midwest. 

 

Cradilo and I may have not won a ribbon in that class, but as would often be the case in the future, we completely won over the crowd.  For the first time in my life strangers came up to me and gave me hugs after the class, I could only guess so overwhelmed by his incredible heart and presence.  Top trainers and riders came up to me, wanting information on who this horse was.  And the thing that was so amazing about all of this is less than a year ago he could barely trot a circle without going in to coughing spasms.  There was occasional coughing and people could see that, but it was in the background.  It was so clear he was exactly where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to be doing.  His personality was overpowering; at that first Trader’s show he whinnied constantly prior to entering the ring, as if to say ‘I’m finally here.’  I can remember being a little embarrassed by it at the time, as Margie Engle eyed what she would later call ‘that big chestnut stallion of yours,’ and under my breath I begged him to please stop talking.  But there never was and never would be any hiding in the shadows on Cradilo. 

 

As was the plan we headed down to Lexington directly from Trader’s, to meet up with Niall and continue on with our intention to work towards consistent and competitive Grand Prix status.  This was another huge eye opening venue for me; everything Trader’s is on a larger and grander scale.  Lexington in general and the Kentucky Horse Park specifically are an incredibly inviting and impressive venue to any lover of horses, and once again we were both right where we wanted to be.  Niall no longer worked for Laura and was now on his own with a large group of horses, clients and staff.  I found myself a bit intimated, as this was not quite the same down to earth experience I had with Niall in Northern Wisconsin; he was attracting even more attention and evolving quickly. 

 

I made a point of directly showing him the video of  Cradilo and I at Trader’s (partially because he was a big part of the inspiration for us being there) and I could tell he was a bit amazed himself.  Somehow my success at this show and his reaction helped me to feel as if we did in fact belong there, and before I knew it we were back to simply going about the business of training horses.  Thankfully, I was astute enough to realize we were in no way ready to attempt a Grand Prix in Lexington.  I wanted to get to know the venue and basically get some help solidifying myself at this level.  I was excited to have Niall ride and show Cradilo, as I had a sense of how unusual what we were attempting was.  I felt I needed to interject some confidence building miles for Cradilo (in case some of my Grand Prix greenness affected him negatively at this important beginning stage), and I wanted to see and learn from how he reacted to another rider’s style. 

     

Niall helped me in the intro jumpers with my young thoroughbred mare Seattle, and watched a little surprised as I climbed on an even younger hunter Genieva, in training from owner’s Rachel Miller and Nigel Wallbank.  There was a particularly memorable flat ride on top of the hill of the 3 day course with Niall and Cradilo.  I sat on one of the big solid fences and watched enthralled as in about 5 minutes Niall had Cradilo going better than I had ever seen on the flat.  With invisible aides he had the big stallion going in a perfect frame lighter and more balanced than I knew a 1500 pound horse was capable of, completely rhythmic and focused on a loose rein, and most importantly, he did not cough a single time.  If any part of me doubted my decision to work with this young Irishman and pay to have him ride Cradilo, that was over and I was completely sold.

 

He was the only man I ever watched ride Cradilo and gain that sort of trust so instantly, or at all with any real consistency for that matter.  We sat on top of the hill and joked around about the insanity of jumping such monstrous solid fences. He introduced me to his friend Scott (who I believe I watched win the Grand Prix that week) and I ran into Dennis (who also turned out to be a friend of Niall’s) again at that same show.  Niall negotiated some beautiful 1.3m courses in the big ring on Cradilo, and I continued to be amazed at how lightly he managed to ride a heavy horse that I felt the need to sit on and put together as much as possible around a course.  I finally felt as if once again I was surrounded and being helped by horseman who were fully committed to and understood the driving obsession to reach excellence in this sport; and it was a very, very good week. 

 

I went home even more motivated to reach our full potential, and Cradilo and I worked harder in preparation for returning to Lexington the following month for the Kentucky National. 

 

It was hard to imagine an experience being any more powerful than the two shows previous, but the Kentucky National proved to be just that.  While Trader’s and the previous Kentucky Bluegrass show had a group of top known horseman, the Kentucky National was teaming with them.  Cradilo looked and felt better than ever, and the plan was to negotiate a 1.35m or two, and then attempt the Grand Prix de Lexington Saturday morning.  This time Niall had switched gears and come with only 4 horses, no clients and a groom, and it seemed my few horses and I were going to have the benefit of his full attention.  He definitely appreciated the on going work I had put into Cradilo, and repeatedly told me how good the stallion looked. 

 

I remember negotiating one of our 1.3 m classes quite well, but in normal green Grand Prix rider fashion I slightly missed one distance and had a rail.  As I walked out of the ring I overheard one of Niall’s friends joke ‘if Niall gets that ride, we’ll be watching him in the Olympics’, and I began to think they may have been right.  The thought that there might be someone better for Cradilo became a serious realization for me, and I started to consider the possibility of partnering with Niall on Cradilo rather than just training with him.  It seemed he saw the same possibility, and the momentum we were gaining suddenly looked as if it was going to pick up even more speed and become quite interesting.

 

Friday afternoon, the night before the Saturday morning Grand Prix we had entered, we were sitting in front of the stables and I had just introduced Niall to Rachel, my client who had recently flown in.  As we were standing there chatting, Niall clutched his chest and said he needed to go find some Advil, and he would be right back.  He then sort of disappeared, and I didn’t worry about it too much, knowing there were many things at a horse show that could detour a trainer.  Later that night Rachel and I were sitting in the big indoor, watching the Friday night FEI Prix.  I was looking for Niall, figuring we would watch the class together and wondering where he had gone, as the barn had been mysteriously quiet all afternoon.  Suddenly the announcer stated that he wished the best of luck to Niall Grimes, who had had a heart attack earlier in the day and was now in a Lexington hospital.  I went up to the announcer sort of stunned, stated that he was my trainer, and was told what hospital he was in. 

 

Apparently, at the age of 31 Niall had suffered from a heart attack while standing in the warm up ring.  Because he was so close to the EMT’s they were able to revive him, but he was now at the hospital in a coma.  Of course, I immediately went to the hospital, and the events of the next few days are not something I (and I’m sure many others) want to relive in detail.  In short, after several days Niall’s family made the decision not to artificially sustain him, and he died. 

 

This is another event that impacted my perspective and life in a way that is hard to put in to words.  The following morning, still hoping and believing this was all a bad dream and Niall would wake up his normal self, I attempted to ride in the Grand Prix.  It turned out to be considerably more difficult than the ‘easier’ Trader’s Grand Prix, and I found myself struggling to focus in the warm up and get myself to the gate.  In the end we finally went in but after 5 or 6 fences I realized I just didn’t have the heart or skill to fight for this particular class and pulled up.  For one of the first times in my life riding a horse wasn’t going to pull me out of whatever difficult situation I happened to be facing, and I simply had to give it up for the time being. 

 

Though my friendship with Niall was relatively short and new, there was something very powerful and magical about our mutual connection with Cradilo, and it felt as if our paths were about to become strongly intertwined.  To have what felt like a clear lighted path pulled out from underneath me was incredibly confusing and painful, and that coupled with other personal challenges (namely a divorce I was going through) took me to the very edge, and a period in my life that was as dark as anything I’ve ever experienced.  To watch such a good young life so full of potential snuffed out made it hard to keep the faith … and so I did what I would do many times over on this new dramatic path; retreat to winter in Southwestern Wisconsin and allow the healing power of hibernation and time to do its work. 

 

Some may wonder if this part of the story is about Cradilo or Niall, but I’m pretty sure Cradilo and I never would have gone to the place we did, which has led to me needing to tell this story, without Niall’s encouragement.  And so this seems like the appropriate place to tell a part of Niall’s story as well, and to thank him.  I’ve recently read a quote that said ‘every rider has that one special horse, that one horse that changes everything about them’; and while I obviously agree with this fully I would extend it to say that ‘everyone who ever accomplishes anything of note has that one special person that gives them what they need to believe in themselves and become the change they have just barely hoped to envision.’