indian desire

Well, Indie was headstrong and unpredictable at the best of times, but he wasn't uncontrollable. I remembered my wild ride on Vindictive Fury earlier this morning and shivered. I still couldn't believe I'd agreed to ride that beast - I bet Marissa wasn't even feeling that sick. I gave a gentle nudge to the colt's sides, asking him to trot. He obliged, increasing his pace into his rather showy, prancy dancy trot. It was now the beginning of June. I'd been riding the colt since March and we'd come to know each other pret-ty well. We'd raced three times for two seconds and a third - not bad for a horse with no notable blood in his veins, or a hardly known jockey.

We warmed up on the dirt track - the turf track was busy and I wanted to keep Indie as focused as possible before we galloped. If someone was ahead of him, he was very aggressively focused on getting ahead of them. Once he got his mind on that pursuit, there was no stopping until the opponent stopped. That's why, when we raced, we always got into the lead and stayed there, because no matter how fast the pace got, Indie would never give up. We trotted for a little while, then moved into a slow canter until we came back around to the gap, where we switched onto the turf. Indian Delight instantly accelerated, his ears pricked and his eyes roaming the track ahead. Looking for someone to race, or course, but most had exited the track, and only Born To Soar remained, pounding all the way at the other end. Too far away for him to have interest. Good boy, Indie.

I leaned closer to his withers, and urged him to gallop. The colt responded quickly, taking advantage of the temporarily loosened reins to stretch his neck as he lurched forward into the faster pace. After a few moments, a grin spread across my face. His stride was smooth and effortless, just the way I liked it. Course, he wasn't going flat out, yet. We'd do a lap of slow galloping like this, now that the track was at last clear, and then a four furlong breeze.

We were preparing for the June Maiden Turf. It was a six furlong race, which was great for the young colt. He was up against just three other horses - the maiden population was greatly reduced by this time of year, usually the only ones that remained were late starters and no hopers. I was ninety nine point nine sure Indian Delight wasn't a no hoper, the colt had something there.

Our opponents were She's de Grey, Casting Shadows, and Tsubasa's Dream, all three fillies from three different brand new stables. The first two had yet to race, and Tsubasa's Dream had two starts, a second and a fourth place. Indie was going in the favourite, with three starts, two seconds and a third. I hoped we'd finally get rid of his maiden. By the way the colt was working now, I knew he'd give it a damn good shot! I'd certainly be riding to the best of my ability.

We rounded the turn into the homestretch, and the colt immediately picked up the pace. Woah boy. I said gently but firmly, taking a tighter hold on the reins and leaning back just the slightest bit. Indie didn't slow down, but stopped speeding up at least. We still had to go around the next turn before we started our breeze. I'd already recieved my instructions for riding the race; we were to rocket out of the gate like always, and go right to the rail. We'd drawn gate two, so it would be easy enough. Then I had to make sure he stayed in the lead by about two lengths, no more than three. At two and a half furlongs to go, we'd start increasing our lead, and if things went as planned, we'd win the race. Of course, there was no certainty in racing. Things could go wrong in an instant, which was the risk we took everytime we got on a horse.

Finally, the time came! I crouched low, and let about two inches of reins slip through my fingers as I gave the light bay colt the cue to go. Without a moment's hesitation, he knuckled down, stretching his legs out and his neck low. My body followed his movement naturally, and I kept in sync with him without even having to think about it. We raced up the backstretch to the turn, which Indie took beautifully. He leaned close to the rail, curving his body around it, not slowing down the slightest bit. Now in the straight, he put on a final burst of speed, pounding powerfully down to the wire. eeee! I said as I let out the breath I didn't even realise I'd been holding as we passed the finish and galloped out the other side. Whoop! Go Indie! I shouted with a huge grin.

Gradually the hot and sweaty colt dropped back through his paces to trot, and we turned back for the gap. Jumping down when we were safely off the track and heading up the lane to the stables, I threw my arms around Indie, not caring about his horsey sweat. I was now very confident of our chances in the race on the weekend, three days away. The colt nudged me gently, taking the opportunity to check my pockets. I laughed, and pulled away. Nothing there - when you're cooled down and groomed I'll get you a carrot.
And I kept my promise.

[finished]