A good part of my job (there are many good parts) is and has been for the past 15 or so years: working with people who might not be comfortable in the mountains or with horses, and helping them to feel more at ease. Can I do it? That is my challenge. And when I can say, “Yes, I can!” you can see how rewarding that feels. Dinner conversations at my table change from mechanics talk and construction and snow… to the rewarding trials of the day on the trail. The boys listen to me, to my enthusiasm. They know it was a “yes” day. On those very few “no” days, I remain completely silent.Fear of the wilds, mountain trails, and these thousand pound animals is real, and for good reason. We can get hurt. This is a fact. The fact has created our fears. However, a group of other facts are the cure to alleviate, or at least reduce to a manageable position, those same fears. Acquiring knowledge tends to be the first step in elevating fear.
That’s where I (and hopefully all outfitters and wrangers today) come into the picture. Sharing knowledge – of the horse and the mountains – is my job. My goal is almost always the same. To allow the person the information which enables him or her to feel more comfortable. Knowledge empowers us. Slowly, what once seemed so frightening is now understandable. This new knowledge, or a confirmation or refresher of this knowledge, helps us lift our heads, raise our eyes, and so, “Oh, yes! That makes sense!” Knowledge replaces fear with comfort. We might sill have a respectable dose of fear of the given situation, and that’s probably a good thing, but at least we can manage it now. When it’s all more manageable, it’s all more comfortable. And when you’re more comfortable, I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy yourself more. Folks come here for vacation. Shouldn’t they enjoy themselves?
It’s a natural progression. Fear is replaced with knowledge. We can see the progression. We help by teaching our guests just a little bit of how, why, what to do, where to go, how to get there. A little bit about the language the horses speak, and how to speak it. It is rewarding to see our riders start to sit back and breath. And our horses in turn soften their eyes, relax at the poll, swivel their ears, and begin to listen to their new rider.
With every new rider, I, too, have the opportunity to learn anew. What works best for the rider? What works best for the horse? These things matter to me. Simple riding skills, I know, but a trip horseback in the high mountains may always turn into something other than simple. And we all have a much better chance of keeping things simple if we take time for every rider, every time, to share a bit of basic knowledge. My horses thank me most sincerely in their own way.
There is no sense in condemning. If you’re not doing it right, I’m not teaching it right! I, too, learned to ride. I was not born with this knowledge, was not born into this knowledge, and still (and will always) have plenty more to learn.
As outfitters, teaching riding was not always considered our greatest strength. “Dudes” were put in the saddle, a pat on the horses’ rump would get the horse moving, and we trusted our horses to follow along the trail and get everyone back… safe and sound? More or less. Ask most folks who used to ride at Dude Ranches back in the day and you’ll hear some wild tales. Unfortunately, most were true. This is what happens when we ride without knowledge. And the crazy thing is: more often than not, the horse actually did get the rider home in one piece. I think we all had the horse to thank, not the person on top holding on for dear life, kicking or pulling in random progression meaningless to the horse. The horse was not happy, I can tell you that. And the rider, well, he or she was just plum lucky.
We used to think a bigger bit might make a better ride. Keep the rider safe, the horse in line. I know this sounds terrible, but it’s true. And at the end of every ride, I don’t know how the rider was, because I was far more concerned with my horses. They’d be more agitated and frustrated every time. At the end of each season, they would be progressively more desensitized. Kick and pull was the name of the game.
Time to change the game.
Today, my husband smiles at me and smirks as he listens over and over and over again to my crash course in tail riding.
“Hold onto the base of the mane as you mount”
“Settle softy onto the horses back”
“Sit deep like a sack of potatoes”
“Shoulders back… and breathe”
“Remain centered on the horse”
“Be riding all the time”
“Keep a lose rein”
“Focus first”
“Suggest with the reins”
“Use leg pressure only if need be”
“To stop, ask your horse first”
“Assume he will do what you ask”
“The more politely we ask our horses, the more they will listen to us”
“Don’t try to fight your horse, he’s bigger, he’ll win”
"Follow through, stay with it, and wait for the horse to respond"
“Give an instant release when you get the results you want”
“Don’t be so quick to blame the horse, see instead what you may be doing wrong”
“And don’t forget to breathe…”
Five minutes, maybe ten. That’s all it takes. But it makes an infinite difference to my horses. And guess what, tomorrow I may never see the rider again, but the horse? I live with him. I work with him. I rely on him for my livelihood. I care for him and want him to enjoy his job as I enjoy mine.
Oh yes, it’s all simple stuff. But if we don’t teach this to a rider, all they are is a passenger, and usually a passenger who is trying to stay in control of game they have no idea how to play. I can pretty well guarantee that my riders today return home happy and comfortable and confident. They return a better rider than when they started out. That is very rewarding to me. I believe many in the horse industry, in the guest ranch or outfitting industries, are doing the same. Lucky for the horses, lucky for the riders. Lucky for us who spend our days working with horse and rider.
Our rides may not be the wild, reckless adventures of yesteryear, but my riders are safer, and my horses are happier. And with each ride, I am allowed the lesson of clarity of communication with both horse and rider. I still have much to learn, but learn more every year, with every ride.
What once was fear was conquered by knowledge and replaced with comfort. Me, my horses, and hopefully especially my riders, can all feel this difference.