06/07/2026
Some of us who find ourselves riding in groups, whether in lessons or along the trail, may have spent a lot of time in the saddle, without ever having had to make our own horses.
We know a lot of theory and equitation but we haven’t had an opportunity to try these things out on a horse who doesn’t already know how to be ridden. This is not to point out anyone’s shortcomings but I’ve found a general lack of understanding between the people who ride ‘made’ horses and those who are starting their own c**ts.
I do a lot of my ‘inside’ riding by hauling in to one of the public arenas in nearby towns, especially in the colder, or wetter months. I’ll go online to see when the public rides are being held and away we’ll go, on our next adventure.
Lyric and I did this, not too long ago, to get out and about in an arena that I’m not at all that familiar with, though my membership dues are paid.
Whenever I show up as a stranger on a green horse, it’s an instant lesson on what it’s like to be a beginner in this world. Make no mistake, there’s a class system at most arenas and I know exactly what it’s like to be the bottom layer!
I’m generally hauling horses that a lot of folks wouldn’t be comfortable riding yet, because these horses have never before ridden amongst other horses, in new surroundings. They’ve never roared down the highway in the trailer, they’ve never unloaded in public places, they’ve never seen overhead doors or lights. They’ve not heard the loud fan, the piped-in music, ridden past the humming Coke machine, let alone watched kids run up and down the bleachers waving bags of chips!
Believe it or not, just having a few women loudly greet each other and move in for hugs is enough to knock some of these youngsters sideways. Of course, each horse or pony reacts differently to the unknown, just as we people do, as well.
“This is freaking awesome!” the more confident c**ts seem to say, with heads high and heels ready to kick up, up, up. Others, who are a little less outgoing, are sometimes so overwhelmed by going to town, they are literally rooted to the spot. Are they going to freeze, or explode?
I won’t really know which c**t I’m on, until I’ve been in this situation with him, half a dozen times. He’s going to have to be in this scenario often enough to learn who to pay attention to (me) and what to ignore (pretty much everything else).
This is not recklessness on my part, over-facing or failing to read my young, green horses. They have to learn how to do these things and go to these new places, if they are going to fit in with our manmade lives. I can’t stress this enough.
It is a big thing to teach a horse that the same ol’ rules he learned at home, will apply in other places. Now, we can keep on keepin’ on in the round pen ‘til the cows come home, but when we do, we’re not actually making a horse who is learning how to exist in the real world.
As I’m out and about, it is apparent that those who are loping and sliding around me haven’t perhaps had the same ‘opportunities’ to start their own c**ts.
They maybe don’t understand that by passing too close, cutting me off or riding right up behind me, can cause my simmering pot to boil over. I can see that they don’t understand that throwing their jackets nonchalantly over the rail, just beside my passing c**t, might be the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.
They just don’t think about it because they have never been on that iffy, reactive horse.
One of these instances is when horses are cantering, or loping, as a group. I might be riding a nice youngster who is doing his best, but maybe his balance or concentration is off just enough that I’m having to be happy with three or four good strides, before he breaks down to a trot. It’s a needed reset, a rebalancing.
I must allow this so that he can reorganize himself and try again. Maybe next time, he’ll be able to make ten strides, or even lope all the way around the short end. Really, whatever good thing he gives me is akin to winning at the Olympics.
I am not going to kick him into a faster trot, until he tips over into an unbalanced and racing lope. I am not going to pop him with the end of my rein, pressuring him when he is already worried, just to avoid inconveniencing the folks following closely behind. Nope, I’ll bring him down to a few steps of balanced—read slower—trot. We’ll get in sync and then, we’ll try again. We're building something with each attempt.
It never fails that a few folks are ‘cut off’ because my c**t has broken stride, right in front of them. I can hear them behind me, swearing slightly as their own horse breaks gait or veers around us. They’ll shoot me a dirty look, all ‘how dare you?’ and continue on their way.
I can only keep my eyes up, looking out for trouble and places to avoid. I wish the people on the more advanced schoolmasters would just be grateful and do the same. Is it not common knowledge that we shouldn’t tailgate a horse any closer than a two-horse length, a distance made even greater when we increase speed?
I’ve actually put red ribbons in my c**ts’ tails, not because they are kickers, but because I want other riders to give us some space.
Passing tight between a horse and the rail is another place of which to steer clear, as well as the ironclad rule of meeting left hand to left hand, just as when we’re driving our cars. That walking, cooling out or resting horses stay to the inside of the pen, away from the rail, is another unspoken code of the west.
Knowing who has the right of way really reduces the collisions but I’m seeing that a lot of riders don’t seem aware of these basic rules of ring craft. They just aren’t seeing what’s going on around them.
So, here’s a thought. When riding in a group, whether it’s a local show’s warm up pen, a trail ride or a group lesson, lets ALL keep our eyes up. Let’s scan the group and make a mental note of which horses may be struggling with these unaccustomed demands, as well as the riders who may be bravely starting their journeys. Let's just give ‘em space, is all.
If it’s a young horse who is losing his marbles, just a bit and you’re blessed with being on an old campaigner, maybe park yourself beside the other horse, so that he can feed off your horse's energy and settle down. We can sometimes stop and have a little chat and a puff in the centre, all friendly-like.
If you don’t point out that I should be sending my horse to a trainer, that’s appreciated, too!
You don’t have to make a big deal out of how sharing this responsibility inconveniences you. There will come a day when my horse is the old campaigner—as shown here with Doll at a show, years after we were truly holy terrors in public!—when it will be my turn to do the right thing for someone else. And here’s one more pro tip: if you can find it in your heart to smile in an encouraging way, you’ve just become my hero.
Green horses can only learn to do by doing. I know it would be easier if we all didn’t have to ride with eyes in the back of our heads, or if the people on lesser horses would just stay home!
This was actually said out loud one day, when I dared to show up with Credo at the busy arena in town. He wasn’t being bad, he was just feeling overwhelmed with all the horses running, sliding and kicking up sand nearby. The little gelding figured we were under attack and it took a few such outings, before he knew that we’d be fine.
There’s a big difference between schooling well at home, alone, and rocking it in the real world. I might be on a horse with three months’ good riding on him but show up in public, there are days you sure as heck wouldn’t know it!
When learners are on the roads in cars emblazoned with ‘STUDENT DRIVER’, we automatically take special care while driving beside, or behind them. In the arena, same deal.
Folks like me on these greener horses appreciate your kindness and patience. We may be stalled in an intersection, missing our gears or taking too long to parallel park but it is how we’re going to become comfortable while navigating ‘rush-hour traffic’.
Our young horses are no different. A good start is honouring the rules of the road, cheerfully. Let’s call it a public service announcement, on behalf of those of us who are resolutely riding in that darned bottom layer.
Heck, let's just cheer one another on.
