Have you ever wondered why jumps are named the way they are? Sarahrose Brannan, an eventing junkie from New Jersey, takes a moment to speculate.
First things first: My name is Sarahrose. I’m a young adult rider recently getting into formal horse showing.
As luck would have it, my horse is a young horse, recently being drug into the show ring as well. Win, win, right? Well let’s just say all is well until I… I mean WE saw what kind of jumps were to be navigated. Which got me thinking, and Googling, why on earth are some of these jumps my trainer tells me about named as they are?? I tried asking my mare, but she just stuck her shaking head in the hay. Let’s examine some of these together, shall we?
Rolltop:To a rider it’s a terrifying optical illusion, to a warmblood it’s a freshly turfed place to stick his cleats–I mean studs as he tackles–or steadfastly refuses to go over it.
They seemed to have named this one because of its semicircular appearance. It appears to be a roll, with turf on top. Why the turf I’ll never understand. Riders tend to like pretty things? Turf is pretty? Kinda.
Coffin:To a rider it’s aptly named. To attempt to jump this obstacle is equal to cheating death. Mistakes made could result in… well, let’s just say we’d prefer to get over this jump. To a Quarter horse, this jump is best left un-jumped. Preferably best left to be circled around in barrel fashion?
The interesting thing about a coffin is its a series of jumps and ditches, plus it’s so influential it has a canter pace named after it! Yes, if you jump these at an excessive speed you will have, well… problems, so slow it down or end up in one!
Liverpool: Remember back in the day when calling someone lily-livered was a huge insult? I believe in my heart that that is where the name of this jump came from. Not only is it contrary to ask an eventing horse to jump through water, and then a jumper jump over water, but Hello scary blue baby pool like object that will steal my liver and kill me.
Google couldn’t really help me with this, so my best uneducated guess is some genius, now millionaire in Liverpool England grabbed this idea and ran.
Table:While I realize this one is appropriately named, my mare equates picnic tables to food… and food to her eating… Put a Shetland pony up against a table and I guarantee a refusal with their muzzle feverishly searching for remains of a peanut butter sandwich!
Well there you have it, a few jumps that scare the crap out of me with the best explanations the internet can offer!