I am working on a magazine article about a young man named Blue Allen. I have posted a video of him either winning or taking reserve in the Limited Bridle at the NRCHA World Show in 2008 on this blog before. He came up from behind me in the training game, paused just long enough to say "Hey" and shot past me into some serious wins and a steady business.
He is personable and talented. I am now trying to get a few articles written and sold to the horse publications. Blue seemed a natural choice. I have been on friendly, hand waving terms with him and his wife Jeannie for some time, but haven't gotten a chance to really talk with him before.
When I called him and asked him to be my guinea pig for my first attempt at writing for magazines he was friendly and congenial.
"You bet, I'd be happy to help, this should be fun."
That's all I needed to hear, I made an appointment to meet with him this past Sunday and off I headed with my friend Kathy and the Kidlet in tow.
Blue is from Alamosa, to my mind, this part of our state is the epitome of Colorado country. Beautiful mountains crouch around the flat, arid prairie. It was a beautiful drive.
We had a great conversation and got to know each other a bit. Blue and Jeannie are Alamosa born and bred and have a nice place.
We finished up our interview and went to the indoor to take some photos of Blue working (none of which turned out, dang it).
While we were visiting he told me about his training philosophy. He wants each horse he rides to "be a horse". Which means they all work for him.
"I don't care if they are a $25,000 stud in sliders or a little three-year-old, they all go out and work for a living at least once a week," he told me.
Every horse will let him throw a rope, catch and drag a steer. Every horse can go out and gather and sort as needed.
"They need it mentally, it keeps them fresh and listening to me."
We talked for quite a while on how to train out of the arena. How much can be accomplished on a road, the trail or in a field.
Then he asked me if I had brought my boots. Why yes, yes I had. Spurs too. So he told me to pop up on his futurity prospect and try him out.
Yikes. I have not worked a cow since I quit training in September. I'm not counting the little bit of quiet herd work I've been doing. He meant try him out. You know, reined cowhorse style. Yip!
I warned Blue I was not only fat and out of shape, I was out of practice.
"You'll be fine, crawl up there."
Damn trainers.
So I did. The colt was very giving and responsive. He was calm, cheerful and focused. I liked what I was feeling. He was easy to ride, even though I don't use my legs in the bump, bump, bump, style Blue does. We had a good discussion on his thoughts on forward, my eternal hesitation I build into my horses and why he thought if I'd activate my leg some more I would get more forward and less rock back on my horses.
And then we worked cows. I am so out of shape. I just about freaked. I was OK for about two turns and then I would have to quit. I knew I wouldn't keep my seat. I was embarrassed and horrified. Neither the colt or Blue seemed to care.
I kept at it until my back couldn't take anymore. Something interesting happened. I started to feel sharp. Wolfy even. I was jazzed, a little angry and really ready to ride some more. My "soft eyes" turned hard, narrow and zeroed in on my cow. I quit worrying about being embarrassed and just started riding. It was great.
On the way home my mind was going a hundred miles a minute. A few thoughts rattled through the whirlwind loud and clear. I am messing around a little too much. I'm allowing myself to get soft and justifying making my horses that way as I slide. I want my horse to move down the road exactly like the colt I rode in the arena. I want his responses to be as sharp and clean as a good futurity prospect. I want my seat firmly back in place.
I also am fully aware that I'm not done with cowhorse. There was a fire in my belly I haven't felt in a long time. I liked it. Blue invited me back to ride anytime. So I couldn't have looked too bad. I fully intend on taking him up on his offer.
Poor Pete.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Time to Open Up a Discussion
I was out walking my dogs after work the day before yesterday. I follow a 2 mile loop through the park around the back of my house. As I was walking I kept an eye on a single horse and rider who was traversing the same loop in the opposite direction. We were going to meet at roughly the halfway point of my walk.
The rider, even from a distance, rode easily and well and his bay roan horse strode out with a confident even stride.
I thought it was my neighbor Andy, the caretaker of the Rock Ledge Ranch. He keeps a mustang, Caballo, in with his draft horses as a riding horse. Andy is a competent horseman and also, as a park employee, has the authority to tell me to leash my dogs. So I kept an eye on his progress, figuring I'd gather up my dogs in the trees right before he came over the top of the next ridge.
The horse was remarkable only in his assured, smooth way of going. He maintained his steady, ground covering walk up and down the trail, through the rocks and along the ridge.
I called in my dogs and stood with them at a sit, stay, off the trail by a few feet. I do this every time I see a runner, other dogs, bicycles or horses on the trails. It's good for them to sit quietly while a distracting presence goes by and solves a lot of potential problems from happening.
As the horse and rider topped the ridge I saw it wasn't Andy, so I didn't bother with my leashes. We just sat and waited while a man in probably his mid-sixties rode toward us on a young, long legged gelding.
"How are you today!" He greeted me as they rode towards us.
"Just fine thanks, and you?" I answered.
All the while I was checking out his gear, his horse and him.
The horse was a standard ranch type gelding, clean-legged and bright eyed, three, maybe four-years-old. He showed no sign of sweating or heavy breathing and I had watched him travel steadily for at least a couple of miles.
The tack was old, well-worn, western and basic ranch.
The old man was small, strong and comfortable looking. He wore jeans, a Carhart and a sweat stained ball cap. He looked pretty much like a Colorado cowboy.
I mean an actual, working cowboy. There was no mecate, just well used split reins, he didn't ride in a Wade, a cutter, or a "ranch" anything. It was just an old hard seat saddle.
He looked assured, happy and totally out of place in my suburban park.
"Let me get out of your way," he said and started to cut down into the basin below us.
"Don't mind us, my dogs are horse -broke," I answered.
"I can tell," he replied and I swear to God, he tipped his hat, "Good well trained dogs, the both of them."
He continued on his chosen path and I went on mine.
As I reached the ridge on the back side of my walk I looked down into the grassy basin below. The cowboy had just put his colt into a lope. He started to lope his colt in circles. The circles were big and perfect. I mean reining perfect. Each circle was the exact same size as the circle before. The bay roan colt travelled on a loose rein, his head a little high, his lope as rock solid, steady and relaxed as his walk had been.
I stood riveted, watching the calm, smooth work out going on below me. The cowboy stopped his colt, trotted him a bit, turned the other way and began his circles on the other lead. Again, they were perfect and smooth.
This was not reining training. The colt carried his head high and his nose out. He broke gait a couple of times.
He also stayed in beautiful, easy, free-flowing rhythm. He carried his rider on the uneven ground with strength and confidence. He rode on a relaxed rein. He didn't spook. Not even a little.
When he broke gait the cowboy simply put him back into the lope. No fussing, he just kicked him up.
I had a bit of an epiphany. This is what I want. This is how my horse need to start. They need to be ridden. The first couple years of their training has to be about going where they're pointed. Learning to travel in a confident manner. Learning to carry me. Simple, simple simple. The arena needs to mean no more to them or me than an open field.
This is where the solid showmanship will come from. This is where the winning attitude will begin to develop. All the tricks, bells and whistles can come later.
Needless to say I'm excited. I have got to track down this man. I want to know who he is, why he is riding in my neighborhood park, where he keeps his horse and when can I ride with him. I'm absolutely entranced.
So, lets start discussing this. What is the best way to build a solid riding horse?
The rider, even from a distance, rode easily and well and his bay roan horse strode out with a confident even stride.
I thought it was my neighbor Andy, the caretaker of the Rock Ledge Ranch. He keeps a mustang, Caballo, in with his draft horses as a riding horse. Andy is a competent horseman and also, as a park employee, has the authority to tell me to leash my dogs. So I kept an eye on his progress, figuring I'd gather up my dogs in the trees right before he came over the top of the next ridge.
The horse was remarkable only in his assured, smooth way of going. He maintained his steady, ground covering walk up and down the trail, through the rocks and along the ridge.
I called in my dogs and stood with them at a sit, stay, off the trail by a few feet. I do this every time I see a runner, other dogs, bicycles or horses on the trails. It's good for them to sit quietly while a distracting presence goes by and solves a lot of potential problems from happening.
As the horse and rider topped the ridge I saw it wasn't Andy, so I didn't bother with my leashes. We just sat and waited while a man in probably his mid-sixties rode toward us on a young, long legged gelding.
"How are you today!" He greeted me as they rode towards us.
"Just fine thanks, and you?" I answered.
All the while I was checking out his gear, his horse and him.
The horse was a standard ranch type gelding, clean-legged and bright eyed, three, maybe four-years-old. He showed no sign of sweating or heavy breathing and I had watched him travel steadily for at least a couple of miles.
The tack was old, well-worn, western and basic ranch.
The old man was small, strong and comfortable looking. He wore jeans, a Carhart and a sweat stained ball cap. He looked pretty much like a Colorado cowboy.
I mean an actual, working cowboy. There was no mecate, just well used split reins, he didn't ride in a Wade, a cutter, or a "ranch" anything. It was just an old hard seat saddle.
He looked assured, happy and totally out of place in my suburban park.
"Let me get out of your way," he said and started to cut down into the basin below us.
"Don't mind us, my dogs are horse -broke," I answered.
"I can tell," he replied and I swear to God, he tipped his hat, "Good well trained dogs, the both of them."
He continued on his chosen path and I went on mine.
As I reached the ridge on the back side of my walk I looked down into the grassy basin below. The cowboy had just put his colt into a lope. He started to lope his colt in circles. The circles were big and perfect. I mean reining perfect. Each circle was the exact same size as the circle before. The bay roan colt travelled on a loose rein, his head a little high, his lope as rock solid, steady and relaxed as his walk had been.
I stood riveted, watching the calm, smooth work out going on below me. The cowboy stopped his colt, trotted him a bit, turned the other way and began his circles on the other lead. Again, they were perfect and smooth.
This was not reining training. The colt carried his head high and his nose out. He broke gait a couple of times.
He also stayed in beautiful, easy, free-flowing rhythm. He carried his rider on the uneven ground with strength and confidence. He rode on a relaxed rein. He didn't spook. Not even a little.
When he broke gait the cowboy simply put him back into the lope. No fussing, he just kicked him up.
I had a bit of an epiphany. This is what I want. This is how my horse need to start. They need to be ridden. The first couple years of their training has to be about going where they're pointed. Learning to travel in a confident manner. Learning to carry me. Simple, simple simple. The arena needs to mean no more to them or me than an open field.
This is where the solid showmanship will come from. This is where the winning attitude will begin to develop. All the tricks, bells and whistles can come later.
Needless to say I'm excited. I have got to track down this man. I want to know who he is, why he is riding in my neighborhood park, where he keeps his horse and when can I ride with him. I'm absolutely entranced.
So, lets start discussing this. What is the best way to build a solid riding horse?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Thoughts and Discussions
I have been to two clinics in the last two weeks. One I participated in and one I observed. They were the kind of clinics I prefer, both with locals in a specific discipline I'm interested in. I ignored an invitation to a problem solving clinic done by a young man who used to be a steady supplier to my training business.
I used to get in at least two horses a year who were out of control bone-heads after a few months of his "round pen religion", or whatever he calls it. One year I got six, count 'em six horses in who had 60 days of quality time with him. I guess I should send him a Thank-you card. I've made a lot of dough undoing his training philosophies.
Anyway, the clinics I did feel were worth going to were a cutting clinic and a Ranch Versatility Clinic. Jack McComber, a man who I admire greatly, for his knowledge and his hotness (ahem) gave the cutting clinic.
He started out making it clear he hasn't earned any NCHA (national cutting horse) money for ten years.
"I know the old time basics of cutting," he said.
"Those of you who are actively competing on the NCHA circuit might want to put something together with somebody more current. I'm just a stop, rock, turn and go kind of guy."
Jack shared some of his "old time basics" with me when I was first trying to fathom the intricacies of cutting. I would sneak off when the Big K was out of town and grab a lesson or three. The Big K wasn't one to share those who rode with him. Jack was an absolute rock star and never told a soul I was showing up at his place to ride every time the Big K was on a road trip that didn't include me.
He did stand behind the cattle pens and grin pretty big when I finally started to not only get a score, but beat the Big K once in a while in the herd work.
His clinic was pretty much a warm-up for the cutting club who put it on. He was great help to those of us who needed him and gave great commentary on the riders who really had it going on.
There was one stand out, a gentleman named James Autry and his good gelding, Buddha's Mike.
Turns out the duo recently were reserve champions in the Beef Empire Days Century Cutting Competition in Kansas.
The requirements for this competition are pretty simple. The ages of the horse and rider have to add up to more than 100 years.
I'm don't know exactly how old Mr. Autry and Mike are, but considering the sunken hollows over Mike's eyes, the oxygen tank Mr. Autry keeps tied to the back of his saddle and both of their many arthritic twists and turns, I'm sure they qualify.
None of it mattered once they began to cut. They were magic.
I put some good cow time on Pete and was gently chastised by Jack to ride my young ones down a bit more before we went into the herd. The kidlet heard the same advice.
I always try to leave a clinic with some new information to chew on. I got some good stuff too.
Both the kidlet and my friend Kathy were advised to ride without spurs.
The kidlet, because her horse is so tuned and sensitive, and Kathy, because her Rosie is so intent on picking a fight with her she forgets to hold her cow.
Jack noticed that Kathy anticipates Rosie's snotty attitude before she actually gets one. So Rosie is justifiably pissed, she sets up in her own anticipation of Kathy. It's a case of them knowing each other too well.
Jack's simple solution is to take away the spurring.
We talked about this on the way home and I realized this wouldn't work if Rosie was just lazy. But she's not. And she wants to cow. So we're betting that her desire to turn with the cow will outweigh her desire to fight with Kathy as long as there is nothing to fight about. This will be interesting.
Don't think this guy was anti-spur. My slightly lazy boy Pete would prefer to make friends with the cow, hang out a while, maybe swap a little cud.
I was told more than once to, "Git up there! Wake him up!"
Interesting.
The second clinic was a Ranch Versatility clinic given by a very nice couple, Jeff and Gerrie Barnes. I've been sending some of my old clients to them, simply because I liked what I heard about them. Now I finally got to meet them.
I'll tell you what. These folks have built a business doing exactly what I should have been doing myself. They are riding good quality horses. They are competitive in a sport they enjoy. They help people ride the horse they have and offer assistance from very rudimentary newbie horse keeping skills to advanced riders on their VRH team.
They are not wheeling and dealing their own brand of horsemanship, or a line of horses they are trying to fit clients to. They will help people find a horse, sell a horse or learn to ride their own.
They are also friendly, warm and welcoming, they seem to actually be making a living too. I have to admit I was impressed.
Check out their website at http://www.barnesranch.com/.
So I've got a lot of thinking to do.
I've been piecing together a new training program for my colt. He is coming two. At this point he leads around some, will let me touch him all over, likes a good scratch on the withers and will tolerate being trimmed and vetted.
This fall I'll be starting him. My goal is to make each step be the base for the next. Sounds simple doesn't it? So far I'm combining what I know as a cowhorse trainer, some basic thoughts from dressage, ropers and kids, and a bunch I've learned on this blog.
Both of these clinics fell under my thoughts on this. I'll be going deeper, believe me.
I used to get in at least two horses a year who were out of control bone-heads after a few months of his "round pen religion", or whatever he calls it. One year I got six, count 'em six horses in who had 60 days of quality time with him. I guess I should send him a Thank-you card. I've made a lot of dough undoing his training philosophies.
Anyway, the clinics I did feel were worth going to were a cutting clinic and a Ranch Versatility Clinic. Jack McComber, a man who I admire greatly, for his knowledge and his hotness (ahem) gave the cutting clinic.
He started out making it clear he hasn't earned any NCHA (national cutting horse) money for ten years.
"I know the old time basics of cutting," he said.
"Those of you who are actively competing on the NCHA circuit might want to put something together with somebody more current. I'm just a stop, rock, turn and go kind of guy."
Jack shared some of his "old time basics" with me when I was first trying to fathom the intricacies of cutting. I would sneak off when the Big K was out of town and grab a lesson or three. The Big K wasn't one to share those who rode with him. Jack was an absolute rock star and never told a soul I was showing up at his place to ride every time the Big K was on a road trip that didn't include me.
He did stand behind the cattle pens and grin pretty big when I finally started to not only get a score, but beat the Big K once in a while in the herd work.
His clinic was pretty much a warm-up for the cutting club who put it on. He was great help to those of us who needed him and gave great commentary on the riders who really had it going on.
There was one stand out, a gentleman named James Autry and his good gelding, Buddha's Mike.
Turns out the duo recently were reserve champions in the Beef Empire Days Century Cutting Competition in Kansas.
The requirements for this competition are pretty simple. The ages of the horse and rider have to add up to more than 100 years.
I'm don't know exactly how old Mr. Autry and Mike are, but considering the sunken hollows over Mike's eyes, the oxygen tank Mr. Autry keeps tied to the back of his saddle and both of their many arthritic twists and turns, I'm sure they qualify.
None of it mattered once they began to cut. They were magic.
I put some good cow time on Pete and was gently chastised by Jack to ride my young ones down a bit more before we went into the herd. The kidlet heard the same advice.
I always try to leave a clinic with some new information to chew on. I got some good stuff too.
Both the kidlet and my friend Kathy were advised to ride without spurs.
The kidlet, because her horse is so tuned and sensitive, and Kathy, because her Rosie is so intent on picking a fight with her she forgets to hold her cow.
Jack noticed that Kathy anticipates Rosie's snotty attitude before she actually gets one. So Rosie is justifiably pissed, she sets up in her own anticipation of Kathy. It's a case of them knowing each other too well.
Jack's simple solution is to take away the spurring.
We talked about this on the way home and I realized this wouldn't work if Rosie was just lazy. But she's not. And she wants to cow. So we're betting that her desire to turn with the cow will outweigh her desire to fight with Kathy as long as there is nothing to fight about. This will be interesting.
Don't think this guy was anti-spur. My slightly lazy boy Pete would prefer to make friends with the cow, hang out a while, maybe swap a little cud.
I was told more than once to, "Git up there! Wake him up!"
Interesting.
The second clinic was a Ranch Versatility clinic given by a very nice couple, Jeff and Gerrie Barnes. I've been sending some of my old clients to them, simply because I liked what I heard about them. Now I finally got to meet them.
I'll tell you what. These folks have built a business doing exactly what I should have been doing myself. They are riding good quality horses. They are competitive in a sport they enjoy. They help people ride the horse they have and offer assistance from very rudimentary newbie horse keeping skills to advanced riders on their VRH team.
They are not wheeling and dealing their own brand of horsemanship, or a line of horses they are trying to fit clients to. They will help people find a horse, sell a horse or learn to ride their own.
They are also friendly, warm and welcoming, they seem to actually be making a living too. I have to admit I was impressed.
Check out their website at http://www.barnesranch.com/.
So I've got a lot of thinking to do.
I've been piecing together a new training program for my colt. He is coming two. At this point he leads around some, will let me touch him all over, likes a good scratch on the withers and will tolerate being trimmed and vetted.
This fall I'll be starting him. My goal is to make each step be the base for the next. Sounds simple doesn't it? So far I'm combining what I know as a cowhorse trainer, some basic thoughts from dressage, ropers and kids, and a bunch I've learned on this blog.
Both of these clinics fell under my thoughts on this. I'll be going deeper, believe me.
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