Rafter K

05/24/2026

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙.

Clinton Anderson held free clinics just so people would show up. Now he’s the most famous man in the industry.

John Lyons didn’t ride his first horse until he was 24. Now he’s known for revolutionizing the clinician industry.

Melanie Smith got divorced, had to leave her home, and start entirely over. From that, Solo Select was born and now she’s a household name.

Jill Irving did not make her international FEI debut until she was 50 years old. Now she has a Pan American Games gold medal.

Taylor Sheridan didn’t pivot to screenwriting until he was 40. Now he holds a multi-million dollar western media empire.

The PBR was founded by 20 members in a motel room chipping in $1,000 each to make it work. Now it’s transforming the bull riding industry.

McDonald’s was bought by Ray Kroc at age 52… and became a household name.

Morgan Freeman landed his first major movie at age 50 - and now everyone knows who he is.

Andrea Fappani was not raised in the western world, riding english as a child in Italy. Now he’s the first to have over $10 million NRHA earnings.

So if you feel behind…
Trust me. 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙.

All it takes is one choice. One decision. And life can change in an instant.

04/25/2026

03/08/2026

This hits home. Rafter K may not be fancy but we stay small & private and aim to keep our rates low so people can afford to stay in horses.

🐴 The $300 Horse Boarding Problem

If you own a horse, this post might make you uncomfortable — but it needs to be said.

As someone who has spent years feeding horses before sunrise and cleaning stalls long after dark, I’ve watched this pattern happen over and over again.

You see the ads everywhere.

“Full care board – $300/month.”
Hay 24/7. Grain included. All the amenities.

And you wonder…

How are they doing it so cheap?

Because the truth is — horses aren’t cheap to care for.

Even if someone grows their own hay there are still costs:
fuel, equipment, repairs, labor, land, and time.

So when board is that cheap, something usually gets cut.

Maybe it’s feed.
Maybe it’s stall cleaning.
Maybe turnout quietly disappears.
Maybe water buckets only get filled once a day.

It doesn’t happen overnight.

It happens slowly… until one day someone sees your horse and says:

“Wow… he looks thin.”

You go home, look at old photos, and realize they’re right.

So you move your horse to a higher-end barn.

Now board is $700… $800… sometimes $1,000+ a month.

Your horse looks great again — but now you’re working so many hours just to afford it that you barely get to see them.

And that’s when people start leaving the horse world completely.

But there’s a third option that often gets overlooked.

Small private barns.

Not the mega barns.

Not the ultra-cheap barns.

The quiet, middle-of-the-road places where the owner does the work themselves because they can’t afford employees.

The places where your horse isn’t just a stall number.

Where feed is adjusted individually.
Where someone notices if your horse doesn’t finish dinner.
Where care is personal because the barn is small enough to truly manage.

These barns often sit half empty because they’re not flashy and they’re not the cheapest.

But many of them offer the best balance of care, affordability, and peace of mind in the horse world.

Sometimes the best place for your horse isn’t the cheapest or the fanciest.

Sometimes it’s the place where you can walk out to the pasture after a long day, breathe, and simply watch your horse be a horse.

❤️

And if you’re lucky enough to find one of those small barns that truly cares, hold onto it.

Those places are usually run by people who love horses more than profit, who do the work themselves every day, and who treat every horse like part of their own herd.

Small barns are the heart of the horse world.

⸻

Now I’m curious…

Horse owners — what matters most to you in a boarding barn?

• Price
• Quality of care
• Amenities
• Quiet environment

And barn owners — what do you think is the biggest challenge in horse boarding today?

👇 Let’s talk about it.

03/01/2026

Well said!

Talking about Adios and his hock fracture, and watching people try to twist it into something to pin on Tricia, is tasteless. Full stop.

When you’re dealing with an injured horse, especially something like a fracture, emotions are already high. To sit behind a screen and try to assign blame — when you aren’t the owner — is wild to me. Transparency does not equal an open invitation for public shaming.

And let’s be honest… most of the people commenting have no idea what they would actually do in that situation. It’s easy to have a strong opinion when it’s not your money, your responsibility, your sleepless nights, and your horse.

Saying the only right thing to do is retire him is ridiculous.
There is almost never just one “right” answer when it comes to horses — especially with something like a hock fracture. Every case is different.

When you have your own horse, you get to make the call. Until then? Respect that it’s not your decision.

Being in the public eye does not cancel someone’s right to make medical decisions for their own animal without being bullied about it.

There’s a difference between education and criticism — and some of you are crossing that line.

My motto?
If you wouldn’t walk up and say it to their face, don’t make a social media post about it.

You can disagree without being disrespectful.

02/27/2026

Love this! Don’t get in your own head

02/23/2026

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙨?

Some finished horses don’t need them.
Some actually get worse with them.

There are horses that:

• Get hotter every trip
• Start anticipating
• Start overturning barrels
• Lose their edge because they’ve done it too many times before it “counts”

If your horse gets more worked up from time onlies than helped by them…

Stop doing them.

You’re not prepping.
You’re stirring the pot.

—

For horses that DO benefit from them, keep it simple:

✔️ One trot through — let them look, breathe, take it in.
✔️ One lope through — let them feel the ground and find their spots.

𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙩𝙬𝙤.

If they consistently handle new pens well?
You don’t need to keep proving it.

At some point, time onlies become more about the rider than the horse.

And that’s okay — if it truly helps YOU ride with more confidence.

Just don’t overdo it to the point that:

• They lose their sharpness
• They feel dull
• They’re mentally tired before it matters

You want them fresh.
You want them sharp.
You want them wanting to fire.

Not thinking, “𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯?”

—

𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮… 𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩.

02/12/2026

Pretty cool

Raylee Edwards — The World's Youngest Olympic Athlete

I figured there was no better next story than another record that deserves to be set straight. The fact that this one involves Raylee Edwards — daughter of 2025 Hall of Fame inductee Oscar Walter — makes it even better. As far as I’ve found, this is the only family where every member is a Canadian Champion: Oscar in 1979, Mary Lynn in 1980, Raylee in 2003, and Rana in 2010. So it's no surprise they had an Olympian among them.

Raylee Edwards rode for Team Canada’s rodeo team at the 1988 Olympics. Although at the time, she was still a Walter, because, surprise, nine-year-old Raylee wasn’t married yet.

Yeah, I said nine.

Luckily, her fourth-grade teacher was a huge Olympic fan, or I can just imagine how that absence might have been received.

Raylee rode seven barrel patterns in Calgary’s Saddledome, not just for the love of the sport, but representing Canada in Alberta’s official sport.

Sorry, Canada — we may love hockey. But rodeo? She’s our number one draft pick every time.

At nine years old, Raylee wasn’t just a kid riding horses. She was representing her country on the Olympic stage, carrying herself with the kind of composure and talent most athletes spend a lifetime trying to build. That’s not just impressive for a young rider. That’s rare at any age.

Of course, does she remember the experience itself? Not much, beyond going on stage for the medal presentations and the sheer mass of people. Rather, she remembers most vividly that all three of Team USA barrel racers’ horses–Dutch, Scamper, and J.C.–were all in her barn at the same time. That memory is only matched by riding against legends Charmayne James, Martha Jose and Marlene Eddleman–or even her Canadian teammates Gayle Howes and Ruth McDougall.

Moments like hers remind us that rodeo athletes have been part of the Olympic story, even when the record books don’t always make it obvious. Raylee belongs in that history — not as an “if you know, you know,” but as a chapter that proves just how deep Canadian rodeo roots really run.

And honestly? If you can turn and burn in front of an Olympic crowd at nine years old, you’ve already done something most of the world will never understand–but I’m pretty sure they’d want to hear about ~ Amber Hay

Olympic Series:
Story 1 - What were the Olympic Rodeos? A Quick History
Story 2 - Robin Burwash - Canada’s Actual First Olympic Gold Medalist on Home Soil
Story 3 - Raylee Edwards — The World's Youngest Olympic Athlete

01/23/2026

“GO HOME, SOPHIE.” — The Last Promise Harry Morgan Kept

Harry Morgan was 78.
Sophie was 26.
For a horse, that’s ancient.
Her legs shook.
Her eyes had clouded over.
She no longer trotted.
She barely walked.
The vet examined her, then looked at Harry with quiet sorrow.
“She’s tired, Harry.
Her body’s giving out.
It’s time.”
Harry didn’t answer right away.
He just rested his hand on her neck — the same gentle stroke he’d given her for eighteen years.
“Not yet,” he said softly.
“There’s one last thing we need to do.”
That night he called his son.
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
“I’m taking Sophie somewhere.”
“Dad… she can hardly stand.”
“Malibu Creek.”
A long pause.
“The set burned down years ago.”
“I know.
The buildings are gone.
But the land is still there.”
He didn’t say it out loud, but his son understood.
Sophie deserved to see home one more time.
They rented a padded horse trailer — the kind used for fragile animals.
Three men helped lift her inside.
Harry rode in the back with her the whole way, whispering:
“It’s okay, girl.
One last ride.
Just you and me.”
The drive took two hours.
When they arrived at Malibu Creek State Park, the land was silent.
No tents.
No helicopters.
No cameras.
Just rolling hills, oak trees, and wide sky.
Harry opened the trailer.
Sophie stepped down slowly — trembling, uncertain.
Then her hooves touched the earth.
Something shifted.
Her head lifted.
Her ears flicked forward.
Her cloudy eyes cleared for a moment.
She knew this place.
Without being led, she began to walk.
Painful.
Deliberate.
Toward where the 4077th once stood.
Harry followed, speaking softly.
“That was the corral.
Colonel Potter’s tent was right over there.
The crew used to sneak you apples from craft services.”
He pulled one from his pocket.
She took it gently — the same way she always had.
He told her everything.
About the show.
About bringing her home after it ended.
About Eileen, who loved her until the end.
“After Eileen died… you were still here.
Every morning.
Waiting for me.”
Sophie rested her head against his chest.
A 78-year-old man.
A dying horse.
Standing on ground where television history was made.
They stayed for hours.
Harry walked her slowly around the land, pointing out memories only they shared.
When it was time to go, Sophie refused to move.
She planted her hooves.
Harry smiled through tears.
“I know.
I don’t want to leave either.”
He promised they’d come back.
They both knew it wasn’t true.
One week later, Sophie could no longer stand.
Harry sat with her in the hay, cradling her head in his lap.
Before the vet gave the injection, he whispered:
“Thank you for Malibu Creek.
Thank you for the 4077th.
Thank you for being my horse.”
Her ear twitched once.
Then she was still.
Harry buried her beneath an oak tree on his ranch.
The marker read:
SOPHIE
1967–1993
Colonel Potter’s Horse
Harry Morgan’s Friend
“She was never just a horse. She was family.”
Eighteen years later, when Harry Morgan passed at 96, his children found a note tucked in his desk:
“When I die, bury some of my ashes with Sophie.”
They did.
And somewhere beyond memory, beyond pain, there’s a field.
A man walks out every morning.
A horse waits for him — young again, strong again.
“Morning, Sophie.”
She nickers softly.
He climbs into the saddle.
Together they ride —
Colonel Potter and Sophie —
across open land that never burned down,
where the sky is always wide,
and the promise is always kept.
Rest easy, Harry.
You kept your word.
And Sophie’s still waiting —
just like she always did.
Happy trails. 🐴🕊️

12/25/2025

We weren’t supposed to say anything but we didn’t sign a NDA so we HAD to tell someone and by someone we meant all of you!! Santa called us last night!!!

Santa hadn’t planned on stopping in Arizona the day before he was supposed to deliver presents to every boy and girl.
But, after the NFR wrapped up, Santa did what any sensible legend would do,
he went down a barrel racing rabbit hole.

Late nights at the North Pole turned into replays, interviews, slow motion turns, and one name kept popping up…

Adios Pantalones.

Santa watched him run and nodded.
“That’s the kind of horsepower Christmas Eve could use.”

So Santa did what Santa does best.
He made a list.
He checked it twice.
And he borrowed a little Christmas magic ✨.

“If they can turn that tight at that speed,” Santa muttered, “I’ve been wasting years wide-looping chimneys.”

So he made a call to Red Hot Barrel Horses
“If I borrow him just one night… could he help me make Christmas Eve faster?”

Now Santa knew one thing for certain, if you’re going to train right, you don’t just need a great horse. You need the right ground and the right weather.
And everyone knows…
December in Arizona is about as perfect as it gets.

So last night, December 23rd, Santa worked a little magic. The desert air cooled just enough. The footing at Historic Florence Foundation, Inc. Charles Whitlow Rodeo Arena was perfect. And out of the starlit sky, Santa and Adios arrived, guided by the glow of arena lights.

Last night, reindeer learned to rate.
They learned to tighten their turns.
They learned that smooth beats fast and wild every time.

Santa shook his head, laughing.
“Rudolph! If the elves see that turn, they’re putting Adios on the sled!”

The reindeer dug in harder. Dirt flew. Harness bells jingled. Turns got tighter.
And suddenly… it clicked.
This morning, the tracks are gone. Adios is snug back in his barn,
the barrels stand untouched.
And this Christmas Eve is about to be the fastest yet.

Merry Christmas to all of you from All of Us at BRDS 🎄🎅🎁