Those around her - those who have remained - cheer each hop, each turn. The cheers aren't loud, as they are at most sports. This is a horse show, after all, and the oldest in the country at that. But for the girl, light clapping will do.
A handful of familiar faces are around her. It's her team. Her grandmother stands on the north side of the oval. And there's her mother, leaning against the rail, watching in silence from the east side. And in between, in the bleachers to her grandmother's left and mother's right, sits her father.
After about 10 minutes, the exhibition draws to a close. It's the 14-year-old's first of two on this night. She'll do another one Saturday night, and two more Sunday.
After the last jump, the girl steers Jacquoe toward one of the grandstands. The horse accelerates and gallops in front of the audience.
The girl releases the reins, leans forward, spreads her arms. It's her signature. She's done it countless times at countless exhibitions in countless places around the country. But it's imperfect. Her left arm is shorter than her right.
Lizzy Traband is missing a hand and forearm.
As Lizzy and Jacquoe sprint around one of the oval's corners, her father, Mark, watches them pass. Ask him about the day Lizzy was born. He isn't shy about her condition anymore. But on that day - Jan. 6, 1998 - he panicked.
Mark Traband grabbed his daughter as she took her first breaths in a State College hospital room. He prepared to cut the umbilical cord, looked down and . . . wait, he thought, something isn't right. The doctors didn't warn him. They didn't know; the sonogram must not have been clear.
Mark and his mother-in-law, Liz Heiser, cried. Why was she born like that? What does this mean for her? Then, Liz said, they froze.
"Stop!" yelled Lizzy's mother, Annette, still sitting in the hospital bed. "She's our baby. We're not going to treat her different."
Mark obliged, of course. But it wasn't easy. He was insecure. The parents at the day-care center, were they looking at Lizzy funny? The checkout lady at the grocery store, shouldn't she focus on her job?
"For those first couple of years, it was tough," Mark said. "I wish I could say I handled it as well as Annette, but I didn't."
For her part, Lizzy's mother didn't waver. Annette grew up catch riding, showing off rich people's horses whenever they asked, and she put her daughter on a horse before she could even walk. Those creatures soothed Lizzy, Annette said. Whenever her daughter cried, Annette plopped her on a horse. That always seemed to work.
Growing up, Annette dreamed of owning horses. But it wouldn't happen. After all, she was the daughter of a couple of teachers, not exactly people from the upper crust like those for whom she so often rode. But when she and Mark settled in State College, where Mark works in a laboratory at Penn State, they built a barn.
Carousel Farm started out modestly, maybe eight or nine horses, Mark estimates. But they kept building. When Lizzy was born, she came home to 105 acres. Today, the barns house about 40 horses. Some belong to Penn State students who come by for a ride when they get a chance. But about 30 belong to the Trabands, who breed, train, and give lessons on the property.
When Lizzy was 7, she watched an entertainer named Tommie Turvey. He can rope and ride, stand on two moving horses at a time, and jump fire. Watching him, Lizzy got excited.
She introduced herself. Turvey asked how many times she had fallen off a horse. So many times she couldn't remember, she told him. For Turvey, that was the perfect answer. He took her under his wing.
One hand or two, Turvey didn't care. He encouraged Lizzy, told her to learn how to ride without a bridle - a mark of respect for any rider. Bridles help steer and control speed.
"It's like driving a nail without a hammer," Lizzy said.
With Turvey's help, Lizzy met other people and performed at all sorts of expos. By 2010, she was spreading her uneven arms at the World Equestrian Games, where she gave an exhibition and swapped flag pens with riders from countries such as Finland and France, Slovenia and Slovakia.
And wouldn't you know it? She impressed more riders. One even helped establish a grant so Lizzy could spend a couple of weeks at a festival in Wellington, Fla. There, she learned what it takes to be the best, she said.
And she learned to become comfortable at the center of attention.
In the Dixon Oval, Lizzy and Jacquoe keep pushing forward, her arms still stretched. They've passed the corner and the stands where Mark sits. Now they're at the straightaway. Her grandmother watches her coast by.
Heiser travels with the team as an extra hand. She bakes cookies, tutors Lizzy on the road, cleans the stables - whatever is needed. She was with Annette and Lizzy when they traveled to a horse show in Ocala, Fla., four years ago.
Someone asked Lizzy to give a demonstration there, to teach a group numbering in the hundreds some horse-riding basics. At home, Lizzy's family teases her about her quiet demeanor. She almost never wants to leave the barn.
But at the expo, she grabbed the spotlight.
Lizzy talked for about an hour. That week, she did it five more times. She was animated, even cutting a couple of jokes. Heiser's and Annette's eyes met. Is this the same girl? they wondered.
"When I'm on stage, my mouth starts going," Lizzy said. "I don't know why I'm more animated. I like to have fun, and I take that feeling to the audience."
By the time she turned 11, she was teaching those same lessons in front of a camera. For a line of DVDs, she is the star. It's part of Taiji Horsemanship, a company she launched with her mother in 2009.
The first series of videos are an introduction to basic horse care: "In Focus," "In Control," "In Balance," "In Touch," "In Tune." But while Lizzy is the face of the company, her mother plays a key role behind the scenes.
As Lizzy hops off Jacquoe, Annette tugs a pony toward the center of the ring. Here's the plan: Lizzy will tell a story to entertain the crowd, the grounds crew will lay down a second set of obstacles, and Annette will give Lizzy the pony, Toby. Then, the second exhibition will start.
But something's wrong. The grounds crew isn't placing the jumps where they should go. Lizzy is supposed to guide Toby over those jumps. If they're not placed correctly, if they're in the wrong spot or too far apart or too close together, the whole routine could be ruined, and dangerous. Lizzy could get hurt.
Annette doesn't want to let go of Toby, but she has to. She takes charge of the grounds crew.
"You get too stressed out, Mom," Lizzy says after the exhibition. "It always works out."
But more than anybody, Annette has to stress the details. She is in charge of the day-to-day operations at Carousel Farms, and in Lizzy's career.
The 14-year-old's schedule is quite busy. As part of a deal that the family made with Penns Valley Junior High, Lizzy goes to school from 8 a.m. until noon. Then, she comes home, eats a quick lunch, and heads to the barns, where she cares for each horse.On a quick day, she's done working by 7 p.m., she says. Then, she squeezes in homework.
Lizzy doesn't want to just do exhibitions; she wants to compete. She dreams of making the U.S. Olympic show-jumping team.
Her parents said they support that dream, though they know it's unlikely. Lizzy accepts that, too. She's realistic, she said."Sometimes I wonder, 'Should I go be a teenager?' " Lizzy said. "But it's tough. This sport isn't a weekend-only thing. It's not a sideline thing. To be the best of the best, it's a big-time commitment."
With Lizzy, there is no "hanging out," Mark said. She's too focused on her horses. Of her classmates, only two or three come over. Most of her friends come from horse shows. She likes to paint and swim, but she doesn't do either one nearly as often as she works in the barn. Every once in a while, she bowls.
When Lizzy talks to the crowd, she doesn't mention her left arm, at least not openly. She doesn't care that she's different. She doesn't know any other way to live.
And she's comfortable with how she looks. She'll joke with her family about it - "I wish I could give you a hand," she'll say.
Cofer and Camera Ready win jump-off
Leigh Cofer of Woodstock, Ga., rode Fit To Print Farm's Camera Ready to the only clear round in the six-horse jump-off to win the $45,000 NAL Adult Amateur Jumper Classic and, with the bonus points in that class, to also take the Adult Amateur Championship with 15 points.
"We're shell-shocked," said Cathy Coffey, owner of Fit To Print Farm. "This is both Leigh's and Camera Ready's first trip to Devon."
Going fourth of six in the jump-off, and with every horse in front of her having had a rail down, Cofer said her trainer, Sharon Enteen, told her to not go quite as fast as she could in order to have a clean round.
"This is the most fun horse," said Cofer, 30, a real estate broker who rides weekends and "tries to get to the barn during the week for lessons."
"I can count on Camera Ready for anything," said Cofer. "She tries really hard."
"We imported her from Germany about a year ago," said Coffey. "From day one she's been a pleasure to ride, a pleasure to own, and a pleasure to be around."
Three horses tied for Reserve Champion with 10 points; Little Tom, owned and ridden by Patricia Hennessy of Kintnersville, Pa.; Grisset, owned and ridden by Alissa Kinsey of Fort Myers, Fla.; and Amadeus, owned and ridden by Jessica Polednak of Forest City, Pa.
Scott Stewart of Flemington, N.J., already has a big lead in defense of the Leading Hunter Rider title that he has won for the last nine years.
In the Green Conformation section, Rapunzel, ridden by Jennifer Alfano of Buffalo, N.Y., has the lead in the battle for championship honors, having won two classes.
For complete results, go to www.devonhorseshow.net.