The Dressage Challenge was my idea and, like many ideas, it seemed like a good one at the time. We wanted motivate our Pony Club kids to study their dressage. The concept was simple: kids versus grown-ups riding in teams; highest average score wins; losers clean the winners' tack.

Having spent most of my adult life at Training Level, I hoped to do the adult team justice. Nick, my new, green horse has beautiful movement and a sweet (if stubborn) nature to go with it. In January, when I proposed "The Challenge" to our Pony Club, July sounded so far offI imagined months of training, perfect transitions, and perhaps a ribbon or two.

Months later my new horse had learned to buck. I sent him to reform school. Dressage Challenge? Hah! Basic survival was becoming a more looming priority.

For several months The Challenge seemed to have faded from memory. But one summer day, much to my surprise, it, resurfaced in an updated Pony Club calendar. It was official! And as perpetrator of the idea, I had to support it. In the meantime, Nick had graduated from boot camp, a suitable amateur's mount once again. Even though this was a positive step, it didn't mean I could ride a decent dressage test.

It was time to take action. I called my friend, cohort, and co-mounted meeting coordinator. "Nancy, we need to get going on this dressage thing," I said. "You're right," she answered. "Let's take a dressage lesson." Brilliant idea! (That's one of the reasons why I like this woman). More good news: her husband, Shane, was willing to join us.

Shane has a spot on my "most admired people" list for several reasons: #1) he was willing to join our team; #2) up until a few months ago he wouldn't be caught dead in an English saddle; #3) he was riding a brand new Thoroughbred (learning the hard way that Thoroughbreds are a lot different than Quarter Horses). In short, our new team member had a "can-do" attitude.

The clock was ticking. Seventeen days from the show, Nancy, Shane, and I gathered for a dressage lesson, and received lots of helpful pointers. Of course, there was plenty to work with. My horse is happy cantering when I'm in two-point, but falls to pieces (head up, careening around the circle) when I'm on his back. Shane's horse goes too slow; mine too fast. Nancy's pony, Meester, is the best of the lot, but she learns she can't ride him in a Pelham bit in the show. Shane discovers he can't use his running martingale. We go home from the lesson inspired, motivated, and optimistic. The instructor thinks we're crazy. We have 16 days to prepare for performing a credible dressage test.

Yes, I'm well aware that it takes a lifetime to learn to ride. That's terrific, and I intend to spend the rest of my life working on it. But, with a short-term deadline of not humiliating myself in front of our Pony Club, I was suddenly motivated. Yes, I waited until the eleventh hour to get serious about it, but sometimes it takes a looming deadline to get the juices flowing.

If you're worried that I'm not giving dressage the respect it's due, let me plead my case. I've started at the bottom with several horses and know what it's like to work one's way up. (Although to date, "up" has been no higher than Second Level.) I believe in getting a solid grasp on the basics with minimal use of draw reins, gag bits, and the like. So, I know correct training takes lots of time but in this case, we just didn't have it. It was time to cram for the exam.

My teammates and I understood that we were not going to become dressage pro's in two weeks; neither did we expect to walk away with the ribbons. Shane and Nancy had realistically signed up for Walk/Trot Test One and a Training Level, Test One (Maiden) class. I had more ambitiously signed up for Training One and Training Two. (Having been forewarned by another Pony Club mom that I'd be "sandbagging" if I signed up for anything less.)

Our team realized the hilarity of our situation and intended to make the best of it. This would be Shane's first-ever dressage show and Nancy's first show in 16 years (her previous experience was in barrel racing). I'd taken Nick out once and hadn't even placed. In contrast, the kids in our club had earned numerous ribbons in the season's first schooling show. But it was too late to turn back.

Ironically, the kids seemed to see us as a competitive threat. Nancy's mount, an attractive Welsh gelding, could shine when he wanted to. I'd had a relatively successful previous season with my reliable Lipizzan-cross gelding, Napoleon. I'd also earned a modicum of respect for coaching last year's team at a cross-country rally ("You go jump that ditch while I stand here and watch."). And Nick, while green, is eye-catching. However, we adults were all too aware of our shortcomings, and found it amusing that the kids took us so seriously.

To further motivate the kidsand just to cause troublewe dubbed ourselves "The Dressage Masters." We knew the term 'masters' referred to our senior status; but we hoped the kids would assume it was a reference to our ability. What we lacked in talent we hoped to make up for in attitude.

Now that we had a snappy name, we hoped to attract additional team members. We called other riding Pony Club parents, and were soon happy to welcome aboard Dawn and Aimee. Aimee signed up for Walk/Trot, this being her first show of the season, and she admitted to not having ridden much over the winter. Dawn also joined the Walk/Trot contingency.

Shane, Nancy, and I managed to squeeze in a total of three dressage lessons before the show, making respectable progress with each one. We also worked in a few practice sessions, where our main goals were staying on and teaching Shane the basics of dressage geometry. Shane was pretty casual about the whole thing until our last group lesson, where we took turns riding our tests. After creating a few movements never seen before in dressage, Shane got serious about learning his letters.

On the Wednesday night before the show I took one last lesson. I'll admit the jumping lessons I took in between dressage lessons hadn't furthered the cause. (Sorry, Nick, but I really do want you to go on the bit and stay there.) In Wednesday night's lesson we were rough around the edges, to say the least. "O.K.," I told the trainer. "I'm not going to worry about the test and take a long-term attitude here." She nodded her head in agreement, "I think you're right." There's only so much you can cram into an evening. I rode at home over the next two days, doing my work in the pasture. I guessed that Nick was a little ring sour. His attitude brightened considerably at the change in location.

After weeks of hot weather, clouds arrived just in time for show day. We appreciated the cooler temperatures, but not the downpour that came later in the day. I arrived for Nancy and Shane's morning rides, having agreed to read their tests. I didn't recognize Shane in his English attire. Shane's horse, Cruze, was just a little excited. One bolt took him up to the arena wall, putting Shane on his neck. To his credit, Shane had a naturally balanced position and a brave heart. He carried on with his warm-up and went out to the arena for his test.

Ringside, I gave a few last-minute words of advice. As Shane's reader and teammate, I wanted him to have a positive experience (which, at that point, included staying on the horse and finishing the test). My concern was well-placed. Cruze refused to approach the judge's stand from the left, but Shane finally coaxed him past it from the right. (This was after we'd had lessons in the same arena just days earlierbut now there were people in the judge's box.) The bell rang and Shane circled the end of the dressage arena, lining up for a straight entry. Cruze made it just past "A" but didn't want to approach "C". After making three circles to the right (not required in Walk/Trot Test 1), Shane finally pushed Cruze in the general vicinity of "C". I held my breath as the horse suddenly hopped down center line, threatening to take down the arena.

I take my job as a reader very seriously, but on this day I couldn't help but break into laughter through the next few movements of Shane's test. Fortunately, Shane was also laughing by this point, and didn't hold it against me. Although the test improved as it went along, it was still a breathtaking dressage debut.

Nancy came next and made the ride look cool and simple. She walked away with the first of her two blue ribbons that day: a wonderful start to her dressage career.

Despite having laughed through much of Shane's first test, I was still in demand that day as a reader. This was good: it kept me too busy to stress over my own riding. However, I shortchanged my own warm-up time and was left with 10 minutes to loosen up Nick. Fortunately, he was relaxed and willingso things worked out about right. After Wednesday's rocky ride, I wasn't expecting much and was happily surprised. We rode two decent tests that day, earning yellow ribbons both times out. Aimee also placed in the top three with her horse, Pilot, earning cheers from the Dressage Masters.

The kids? They did very well, as we knew they would, coming home with pockets full of ribbons. It was a close race, but in the end the kids beat the grown-ups by a mere .37 points. A satisfying competition all around.

Did we succeed in motivating the kids? I like to think so. More satisfying, however, was the fact that the Dressage Masters put in a credible showingand lived to tell the tale. Do I recommend trying to learn dressage on a deadline? No way! It's much too stressful. You should allow at least three weeks.