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Sunrise Sessions at Turffontein ~ Ashleigh Hughes

Earlier this year, a new urban craze really caught the South African public’s attention. People were raving all over social media about this new exciting, concept, called “Secret Sunrise”. Even Carte Blanche did an insert about it, and that is when you know something is a really big deal. The people who are attending these Secret Sunrises, are waking up before dawn, in all the major metropoles, to go to a group session of dancing and stretching. Most people actually just end up expressing themselves in whichever way they want to, all the while listening to the same music, on Bluetooth headphones. A few people even get dressed up in their favourite super hero costumes, to let off a bit of steam. The venue of the event is only announced 24 hours before it happens, which is how they came to the “secret” part of the name, which has become the new buzzword in 2016.

 

I must admit though, personally I scoffed quite a bit at the whole idea, thinking to myself: “Whatever will these hipsters think of next? Here I have been waking up and watching the sunrise every single day, since 1993, and now all of a sudden it’s trendy to wake up to watch it? Well that is when the whole idea literally just blindsided me – I needed to let “outsiders” get a glimpse into my own secret sunrises!

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What I really wanted to do was share a little of the magic we racing folk experience, every morning, with a few curious people. But I was rather conservative in my estimate – I guessed that no more than about 15 people would respond to my open invitation, to the inaugural Turffontein Sunrise Sessions on 18 June 2016. I mean, here I was asking people to wake up in the middle of Winter, to drive to the middle of the city, to come and watch the racehorses doing their early morning training sessions, against a magnificent Highveld sunrise. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that over 70 people, most of whom had never even set foot on a racecourse, would eventually come and join an early morning tour of Turffontein!

There were a whole array of different people in attendance – many had zero horseracing exposure, or horse experience of any kind. Some folk came in groups from various livery yards – all curious to see how we do things in a racing yard, and some of their stable staff even joined them! We even had a party of ladies from the Magaliesburg area, who hired a bus to bring them halfway across the province. (They concluded that they were quite keen to form a syndicate and buy a horse to race one day!) The two youngest attendees were two pony mad 6yo girls, who were absolutely besotted with the racehorses, and they asked so many questions, all very relevant I might add! (There are two new horseracing fans right there!) I was truly touched, and rather inspired, by the open mindedness and genuine curiosity of everyone there, and I spent quite a bit of time dispelling all the urban myths about horseracing, which have been perpetuated on social media, in spite of tons of evidence showing it all to be untrue. But most of the morning saw me explaining the intimate workings of a racing yard, and in return, I was regaled by many tales of retired racehorses, which have gone on to be rather superb in their post racing careers. It is so wonderful to hear how the ex-racehorse, or OTTB (Off Track ThoroughBred), is regaining popularity as a sport horse again, in South Africa.

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Our Sunrise Session started with everyone gathering in the main carpark next to the grandstand, and once everyone had assembled, I explained the rules and safety recommendations to all – the horses come FIRST, no matter what, which was well respected by everyone. With such a large group of people standing next to the tracks though, we soon realised that some of the horses were a little scared to approach us, so we backed away immediately, to watch from a less intimidating distance. But in the end, we were able to stand right next to the training tracks, to watch the training gallops take photos and generally gaze in pure wonderment at the horses on the tracks. It was a fast work morning, which meant we got to see a lot of sprint ups of paired up horses, galloping past at a “three quarter pace”, which equates to approximately three quarters of the speed that horses run actual races at. Most trainers don’t allow their horses to go faster, while training on the sand tracks. It was quite something seeing the sheer delight on everyone’s faces as the horses thundered past – not many of them had ever seen a horse go so fast, so close up. There were many questions about the training techniques and track surfaces, and most were surprised at how heavy the sand on the training tracks is, and how thick the grass is, on the turf racecourse tracks themselves.

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After watching the work outs, everyone came on a tour of the Turffontein grandstand. On race days the Parade Ring, Winner’s Circle and saddling up enclosures are all out of bounds to the public, so this early morning session provided us with a superb opportunity to go “behind the scenes”. A whole new discussion was started on how horses are saddled up on race days, how owners choose their silks, and of course how old the apprentice jockeys really are!

Later on, we went back to the stable yard, for everyone to interact directly with the horses, and to have that very important cup of steaming hot coffee, and of course delicious muffins. We discussed the feeding regime, training programs, and basic stable management routines. Everyone was quite surprised at how friendly all the horses were, which was in direct contradiction to what they had expected, and anything they had heard before. We went through all the equipment we use on a daily basis, and when the youngsters were given a pair of racing whips to have a look at, the one young girl cantered off on her imaginary racehorse, and gave herself a couple of backhanders with the padded whip. She suddenly called out from across the yard: “Hey Dad, this riding crop doesn’t hurt at all!” We all had a bit of a giggle at that.

 

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In the end, the Turffontein Sunrise Session turned out to be a lot less “hipster” and a lot more “equine adventure”, and there was definitely no secret about the venue. But the secret of our sunrises, I believe, lies in the magic which we experience every day on the training tracks. It’s not something you can explain adequately, to non-racing folk – it needs to be experienced, first hand. It was truly rewarding to see how much everyone appreciated the experience.

 

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The feedback from this event has been immensely good, and so we will be holding more Sunrise Sessions at Turffontein Racecourse during September and October, on Saturday mornings. The numbers will be limited though, so book now to secure your spot. If you would like to experience a little bit of our magic at sunrise, and are based in, or near, Johannesburg, please email us at: loveracingsaf@gmail.com

 

 

“Wow, a professional rider?! That is, like, SO glamorous!” ~ Georgina Roberts

Let me give you the short answer first: no. And the long answer? Hell no.

This came as we were celebrating a successful show with the usual mix of Horsey meets Normal people. The normal people were breathlessly labouring under the illusion that we – the professional riders – were living examples of Jilly Cooper’s ‘Riders’, the fast living, high flying, leather clad elite.

Oh, how wrong they are.

 

The first excellent example was when it came up that one of us had won a provincial title at the championship show.   ‘Amazing! Let’s have champagne!’ … Let’s not.
In reality, shows cost the professional riders, because they miss out on a week of work to compete, entry fees accumulate quickly, and even IF you do take some prize money home … ‘Er, who’s paying? Because I only won two hundred rand. And my entries were six hundred.’

The bankers and lawyers look at us blankly. The obviousness of the bad business model flew over our heads as we revelled in our triple (!!!) tier rosette and pretty sash.

It doesn’t really make sense, we know. It especially doesn’t make sense that we don silk top-hats and tailored tailcoats, but three year old jeans with holes in the crotch and a t-shirt of dubious colour – it could be tie-dyed, it could be a mixture of hoof varnish and grassy gob, who knows?

 

And then we have the second round of Riders-Induced Disillusionment – drugs and riders. As my friend limped in I opened my bag and furtively offered her a tablet. Half the guests’ eyes widened (“You see, I knew no one would ride a horse unless they were on drugs”) and the other half prepared to sidle closer… relax. When riders DO strip their clothes off, the bruises, scars, and bizarre tan lines reveal a history of Myprodol and Cataflam dependency. We WISH we could afford hardcore uppers: they would be cheaper than eventing, and less dangerous to our health.

Furthermore, if our horses so much as trip we call the physiotherapist out, but we will nurse a limp for months before spending a cent on ourselves. And as friend of mine said recently, ‘We don’t always fall off, but when we do we ride before the doctor says it’s okay.’ That’s because our horses can’t afford to have a day off before competing, and we can’t afford to take a day off from earning. As it turns out, irony is not a drink best served stirred.

 

The third example of the Jilly Cooper Myth was my girlfriend from varsity (money well spent, mom) ogling a dashing rider as he strolled past, flicking his forelock for the appreciative crowd. “So, who is…” she giggled before we all bellowed into our Savannahs in unison, “GAY”. Some heated discussion ensued, which was mitigated by him sitting down and flirting outrageously with her startled brother, who had been insisting not a minute before that it was a fallacy that all hot guys were gay. Really, Mark? The only phone number I get asked for is my beauticians.

 

And the third example – aka “The Nail In The Coffin Of Fantasy” – was as we walked out of the marquis just in time to see an impeccably manicured woman shriek as her child’s grey show pony started to poop… then cup her hands and sigh with relief as she caught it. Can’t have manure stains on those hocks before the championship! She pointed toward her Dior handbag and calmly called for a wet wipe. Someone’s friend dry heaved. I offered them a Myprodol and a swig of vodka to wash it down. They promised to come to Derby, but haven’t been returning my calls…

 

So before you joke that horse ladies like cat ladies with more money, remember this: not only do we have less money, but there is even less testosterone at a horse show than at a pet store. And the testosterone we DO have is coming from one of the aging dressage aunties who is trying to get her horse into the box.