We all have them. Tack boxes that have stuff in them that nobody but us needs to see. Tools that we have used in the past that would make a NH rider faint dead away. I'm talking about us trainers. Those evil minded, money grubbing, horse abusing maniacs that everybody ends up needing, at least once in awhile.
Some of us are truly invested in turning out the best horses and riders we can. We aren't evil. Really. We are under tons of pressure, from owners, time, each other. Our short cuts are stashed away in the back of the tack room. The stuff we want you to see will be hanging up in plain sight. The other stuff is in our tack box, pushed behind the saddle racks.
I was sitting around with a bunch of trainers after a 2 day clinic with one of our gods. If you want have some fun, try to watch or attend an open rider only clinic. The gloves are off man. There are no niceties, no feelings spared. Your guts are ripped out, and everybody rides over them.
At the end of the day , every concept you ever held true is ground to dust, your pride is shattered beyond hope. Then we all sit around with our clinician, the beer flowing free, talking into the night.
I heard of one trainer who will drive a screw through the balance point of his hackamore (bosal) and warm up before a class that way. He takes it out right before he shows. This way he can get his horses soft without soring their face.
I heard of another who won the NRHA snaffle bit futurity. His colt was a terrible gaper. He fixed it by drilling a hole through his horse's back molars. He had a wire back there that he could latch with his fingers when he bridled his horse. That held the horses mouth shut.
When they checked his bit at the end of his winning run he unlatched the wire as he removed the bit, and no one was the wiser.
A common practice is to use a logging chain wrapped in vet wrap to ride hackamore prospects. It keeps the nerves on their face sore without leaving a mark.
Another trainer covers the sores on his paint horses with white house paint. When it dries the paint is stiff enough to cover the spur marks and mouth sores "even if they're still bleeding." You learn a lot by sitting quietly in a corner.
The clinician, our god, noticed I was getting visibly upset. He changed the subject to which of the big name trainers are gay. (I'm telling you, the gossip is amazing at these things!)
The next morning, as we were warming up for our next day of abuse (that would be to us trainers, not our horses:>), the clinician pulled me aside. He said, "I can see that you are a very gentle rider."
Ever on the defensive, I replied,"I know I have to step up, I'm sorry."
"That's not what I'm saying" He said.
"There is a place for riders like you in this business. Your technical, and thorough. I like that. "
He then rode with me for half an hour, and gave me tips on the old fashioned development of a bridle horse.
He told me to keep my filly in the hackamore for two years. He said if I had a problem with her to work through my issues, instead of the standard practice of alternating between the bit and the hackamore. He gave me exercises and drills to soften her and drive her without scaring her into running through my hackamore. (Which is how the screw on the nose comes about) He told me if I did that I would develop in to a true hackamore horseman.
Then he winked and said, "Let's keep all this between us, we're driving those guys nuts."
Of course the rest of the day was filled with yelling and hollering, but I was on cloud nine all day.
My tack box doesn't have much in it. I have held true to the advice I was given and work hard to explore developing a true bridle horse. I've gotten pretty damn good with a hackamore.
My methods are simple. My training philosophy stays on the premise that if my horses doesn't understand something, I have to backtrack and start again until they do.
If they are pulling through my hands I go to less bit, not more.
I am quiet on a dull horse, and am active on a sensitive one.
If you are going to a new trainer, cruise through their barn. Be careful, we're a touchy, cranky breed, don't judge or comment, just look.
Look at their bits. Look at their spurs. Find their devices.
Check out the horses. Not just their weight. Are they happy and alert? Or do they stand with their head in the corner, listless and dull? Do they push at you, invade your space? Are the sides of their mouth raw? Are there spur marks on their sides?
You won't find the tack box, I can guarantee that. But we all have them. If the training equipment you see makes you nervous, remember there is stuff you don't see that is much harder. Be aware. Be responsible. Choose a trainer you can live with morally, not just the guy that can keep you in the ribbons.
Gotta go, the morning is beautiful and the wind hasn't started blowing yet.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Trained, or Broke?
If I am given 90 days to start a colt, this is what ideally happens.
In the first 30 days the horse will learn to be responsive and respectful on the ground. He will be comfortable carrying a saddle, work easily on a longe line, stand tied alone or in a group. He will stand for the farrier or vet. I'll get on him. We will walk, sometimes trot, and he'll stop off my seat. He will rock back a step or two when I ask.
The next 30 days will be a continuation of the first, building on what he's learned. We learn to serpentine and circle, and align his hips to his head through his turns, with help from my inside leg. He will be comfortable doing this at a walk and trot.
I add outside leg pressure. I begin to balance him between my hands and legs. His shoulders begin to line up and shift from the pressure of my outside leg.
We add the lope.
He becomes comfortable on both leads. We start going in a large, loose circle.
He will back five or six steps softly and easily.
The last 30 days I begin to work in straight lines. I work in squares and triangles. The control between my hand and leg increases. My stops start to become slides. The shoulder control develops into the beginning of a spin. We start to track cattle. The colt usually begins to soften at the poll, lift his back and increase his drive. The circles become more even and sure. His back picks up speed and cadence.
When all of that is done I feel that I have a good start on the training of a young horse. I have entered his mind. I've changed his way of looking at the world, prepared him to accept the life ahead of him.
HE IS NOT BROKE!!!!
A broke horse will walk off down the trail happy and interested. He doesn't need his buddies, doesn't rear and try to head back to the barn.
A broke horse won't explode and buck you off when a road grader goes by.
He doesn't bolt when a horse comes up behind him, or he sees other horses running in a field.
He doesn't spook when a plastic bag rolls by, or at arena doors banging in the wind.
A broke horse goes left when you point it that way. Same for the right.
He stands when you hoist yourself up in the stirrup, lose your balance, and fall on your ass under his belly.
You don't get to take points off if he turns and looks at you like your a moron.
I worked for a trainer that strongly felt that as the horse continued his training he would become broke. He simply got on and started riding.
When I had to lope his colts it went something like this.
First I caught them by backing them into a corner of their stall.
Then I led a leaping, bucking, quivering mess to the tie rail.
Imagine saddling a wild billy goat, or an antelope. That would be me and these colts. Leave the halter on, slide the bit in quick, and get them out to the middle of the pen.
When I put my foot in the stirrup I had to swing up quick, because they were humped up and jumping, which believe me, is hard on an old fat woman.
Then off we'd go. Now. Fast.
And we'd be loping a perfect, quiet, evenly cadenced circle on a thrown out rein.
Amazing. Beautiful.
Scared the crap out of me.
I know a 15 year old horse from his barn that is still campaigning. He has an AQHA World championship, his ROMs in reining and cowhorse, his superior in cowhorse.
He also sucks backs at the drop of a hat, will buck when he's annoyed, spooks at kids, dogs, the wind blowing, anything outside of the arena. He has single handedly taken apart more than one trailer.
He is still not broke.
A broke horse may not know how to slide stop, work a cow, or change leads. He has something that no arena baby will ever have, no matter how much training it comes with.
Time. Hours in the saddle. Years of sensible riding.
One of the most successful non-pro horses I know came off of a ranch. He is big and pretty. He was broke. The woman who bought him didn't pay much considering what a cowhorse costs these days.
She bought a broke, sound horse. Then she got him the training they needed. They are a steady winning, confident team. The horse takes on each horse show as another day at the ranch. They are unstoppable.
Which do you want?
Broke or trained?
In the first 30 days the horse will learn to be responsive and respectful on the ground. He will be comfortable carrying a saddle, work easily on a longe line, stand tied alone or in a group. He will stand for the farrier or vet. I'll get on him. We will walk, sometimes trot, and he'll stop off my seat. He will rock back a step or two when I ask.
The next 30 days will be a continuation of the first, building on what he's learned. We learn to serpentine and circle, and align his hips to his head through his turns, with help from my inside leg. He will be comfortable doing this at a walk and trot.
I add outside leg pressure. I begin to balance him between my hands and legs. His shoulders begin to line up and shift from the pressure of my outside leg.
We add the lope.
He becomes comfortable on both leads. We start going in a large, loose circle.
He will back five or six steps softly and easily.
The last 30 days I begin to work in straight lines. I work in squares and triangles. The control between my hand and leg increases. My stops start to become slides. The shoulder control develops into the beginning of a spin. We start to track cattle. The colt usually begins to soften at the poll, lift his back and increase his drive. The circles become more even and sure. His back picks up speed and cadence.
When all of that is done I feel that I have a good start on the training of a young horse. I have entered his mind. I've changed his way of looking at the world, prepared him to accept the life ahead of him.
HE IS NOT BROKE!!!!
A broke horse will walk off down the trail happy and interested. He doesn't need his buddies, doesn't rear and try to head back to the barn.
A broke horse won't explode and buck you off when a road grader goes by.
He doesn't bolt when a horse comes up behind him, or he sees other horses running in a field.
He doesn't spook when a plastic bag rolls by, or at arena doors banging in the wind.
A broke horse goes left when you point it that way. Same for the right.
He stands when you hoist yourself up in the stirrup, lose your balance, and fall on your ass under his belly.
You don't get to take points off if he turns and looks at you like your a moron.
I worked for a trainer that strongly felt that as the horse continued his training he would become broke. He simply got on and started riding.
When I had to lope his colts it went something like this.
First I caught them by backing them into a corner of their stall.
Then I led a leaping, bucking, quivering mess to the tie rail.
Imagine saddling a wild billy goat, or an antelope. That would be me and these colts. Leave the halter on, slide the bit in quick, and get them out to the middle of the pen.
When I put my foot in the stirrup I had to swing up quick, because they were humped up and jumping, which believe me, is hard on an old fat woman.
Then off we'd go. Now. Fast.
And we'd be loping a perfect, quiet, evenly cadenced circle on a thrown out rein.
Amazing. Beautiful.
Scared the crap out of me.
I know a 15 year old horse from his barn that is still campaigning. He has an AQHA World championship, his ROMs in reining and cowhorse, his superior in cowhorse.
He also sucks backs at the drop of a hat, will buck when he's annoyed, spooks at kids, dogs, the wind blowing, anything outside of the arena. He has single handedly taken apart more than one trailer.
He is still not broke.
A broke horse may not know how to slide stop, work a cow, or change leads. He has something that no arena baby will ever have, no matter how much training it comes with.
Time. Hours in the saddle. Years of sensible riding.
One of the most successful non-pro horses I know came off of a ranch. He is big and pretty. He was broke. The woman who bought him didn't pay much considering what a cowhorse costs these days.
She bought a broke, sound horse. Then she got him the training they needed. They are a steady winning, confident team. The horse takes on each horse show as another day at the ranch. They are unstoppable.
Which do you want?
Broke or trained?
Monday, May 5, 2008
Been to the Horse Show
I spent the last three days at a horse show. AQHA with one day of NRCHA classes thrown in.
We had to drive back and forth each day instead of staying because we had a mare about to foal and a precious package of fancy sperm held up in Tennessee.
I had two horses to school in reining, and my bosses brought a couple of theirs. They rode the stud that stands at the ranch, and an out of shape, but very hot and physical mare, that was just starting to compete again after two years off.
Since all of us were going to school our horses, the pressure was off and we could really enjoy ourselves. It didn't hurt that the weather was beautiful and we were at my favorite arena.
These are some of the things I saw.
Lots of colored horses. If you think you're adding to the value of your horse by breeding for color, forget it. Shining Spark and Hollywood Dunnit have dumped TONS of color into the show pen. Their talent is what made them leading sires. Their color has flooded the reining and cowhorse world. A blood bay is a rare delight.
I saw my first cremello competing in an AQHA show. He sucked. His hind legs were so bowed I can guarantee he'll have soundness issues. Of course he was a stud.
Lots of cowboys riding around in the warm up pen with their babies (as in the fruit of their loins) tucked in between them and the saddle horn. Cute look Dads, but a REALLY stupid trend. Cow horses are notoriously hot. There are SO MANY THINGS WRONG with this my head spins.
Moms, I don't care if it's the only way you can get them to babysit, make them stop.
Some beautiful, wonderful runs. There is a mare I admire greatly. Her name is Tsunami Lena.
She was in the middle of her spins, and with each rotation she would prick her ears and try to peek into the cow pen. How cool is that.
I counted five extremely lame horses that were competing. Only one was whistled off. When the horse and rider exited the arena I heard the rider say, "That's what I get for forgetting my spurs."
I stopped and watched a halter class for awhile. I actually saw some halter horses that looked like they could do something useful. Is this a sign?
An idiot on a very tiny two year old. He was riding it in the warm up pen. A cowhorse warm up pen is very fast and intense. The two year old was skittering all over in a mad panic. Of course he had great big spurs, a very heavy saddle, and the horse was bitted, so he smashed it into compliance in no time. This is how cowboys get a bad name. That man was not a cowboy. He was a dumb ass.
A lively Kentucky Derby party turned to dead silence. The show announcer let everyone know that Eight Belles had died. There were a lot of cowboy hats doffed in respect. There were some tears.
Beautiful horses, beautiful rides.
An old rancher showing in cowhorse. His horses were hairy and lean. He wasn't polished or slick, didn't have a chance in hell of placing, but man, could he ride.
Anyway, our schooling was quiet, calm successful.
I had a wonderful reining pattern the last day. My mare was everything I could have hoped for. We flew through our pattern sure and true. The arena faded away, the judge was gone, my fellow competitors a distant thought. Each maneuver was magic, the pattern was a world in itself.
I realize I have a great horse. The best I have ridden. She is sound. She is sane. We are partners on this show scene. She reminds me why I show. Why I train. Who I am.
We had to drive back and forth each day instead of staying because we had a mare about to foal and a precious package of fancy sperm held up in Tennessee.
I had two horses to school in reining, and my bosses brought a couple of theirs. They rode the stud that stands at the ranch, and an out of shape, but very hot and physical mare, that was just starting to compete again after two years off.
Since all of us were going to school our horses, the pressure was off and we could really enjoy ourselves. It didn't hurt that the weather was beautiful and we were at my favorite arena.
These are some of the things I saw.
Lots of colored horses. If you think you're adding to the value of your horse by breeding for color, forget it. Shining Spark and Hollywood Dunnit have dumped TONS of color into the show pen. Their talent is what made them leading sires. Their color has flooded the reining and cowhorse world. A blood bay is a rare delight.
I saw my first cremello competing in an AQHA show. He sucked. His hind legs were so bowed I can guarantee he'll have soundness issues. Of course he was a stud.
Lots of cowboys riding around in the warm up pen with their babies (as in the fruit of their loins) tucked in between them and the saddle horn. Cute look Dads, but a REALLY stupid trend. Cow horses are notoriously hot. There are SO MANY THINGS WRONG with this my head spins.
Moms, I don't care if it's the only way you can get them to babysit, make them stop.
Some beautiful, wonderful runs. There is a mare I admire greatly. Her name is Tsunami Lena.
She was in the middle of her spins, and with each rotation she would prick her ears and try to peek into the cow pen. How cool is that.
I counted five extremely lame horses that were competing. Only one was whistled off. When the horse and rider exited the arena I heard the rider say, "That's what I get for forgetting my spurs."
I stopped and watched a halter class for awhile. I actually saw some halter horses that looked like they could do something useful. Is this a sign?
An idiot on a very tiny two year old. He was riding it in the warm up pen. A cowhorse warm up pen is very fast and intense. The two year old was skittering all over in a mad panic. Of course he had great big spurs, a very heavy saddle, and the horse was bitted, so he smashed it into compliance in no time. This is how cowboys get a bad name. That man was not a cowboy. He was a dumb ass.
A lively Kentucky Derby party turned to dead silence. The show announcer let everyone know that Eight Belles had died. There were a lot of cowboy hats doffed in respect. There were some tears.
Beautiful horses, beautiful rides.
An old rancher showing in cowhorse. His horses were hairy and lean. He wasn't polished or slick, didn't have a chance in hell of placing, but man, could he ride.
Anyway, our schooling was quiet, calm successful.
I had a wonderful reining pattern the last day. My mare was everything I could have hoped for. We flew through our pattern sure and true. The arena faded away, the judge was gone, my fellow competitors a distant thought. Each maneuver was magic, the pattern was a world in itself.
I realize I have a great horse. The best I have ridden. She is sound. She is sane. We are partners on this show scene. She reminds me why I show. Why I train. Who I am.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)