05/30/2025
People ask what I do with my horses. I say, I just trail ride.
They don’t usually have much to say after that. I know there are people that believe trail riding is what you do when you can’t do anything else with your horse or your horse is not skilled to do any other discipline.
Well, I see it differently. I used to show in my 30’s, western pleasure and showmanship. Grew up in the English discipline and took dressage lessons as a little girl. I’ve done a little mounted archery. Over the years, I’ve taken my horses to many clinics, parades, and different experiences, but the
place where I feel most partnership with my horse, is out on the trail. Over the years I have built a solid relationship with my mare. It took time and it wasn’t always easy, but I’m glad I didn’t quit her and she never quit me. On my good days, my bad days and everywhere in between, she has seen me. She has felt my mood before I even stroke her coat.
There is no competition on the trail, no ribbons to be won or buckles to be had. No judge and no spectators in the stand.
So what makes it so rewarding, so special? On the trail we are not within the confines of an arena or track. We are in the forest, in the mountains, out in the open field, on the beach, in the river. The horses are free to leave if they choose to. No matter what kind of expert rider you are, a 1000 pound horse with flight on its mind will find a way to leave if he doesn’t feel safe and protected.
On the trail we are surrounded by other creatures whose home we are passing through. We have natural obstacles, sometimes the trail disappears and we have to forge a new one, we have weather, we have wildlife, we have injury and illness, things can and do change in an instant. All the work I have put into my horses so that they can understand me and I can read them, keeps me and them safe.
Seeing nature from the back of a horse is so beautiful. The sounds of the hooves crunching in the leaves, leather gently squeaking, a soft sigh when she’s relaxed or a snort when she’s warning me of danger ahead.
This amazing prey animal lets me strap a cowskin to her back and climb aboard the same way a mountain lion would if he was making her his dinner. She trusts me from years and years of consistency. In return, I do my very best to stay balanced and make it as easy as possible for her to carry me up and down, under and over. I try to have soft hands and patience. I know she can’t read my mind, so I try to communicate as clearly as possible using pressure and the release of pressure. I don’t yell and I rarely scold her. My leg muscles know where her buttons are, making words unnecessary most of the time. I try to be prepared for anything she might need. I’m not a great rider, but I’m honest and my cues are consistent and I put my horse first. I trust her more than I trust many people. Horses are pure in thought and deed. Their actions and reactions come from a place of survival. So I try to remember that if I get the wrong answer from my horse, I have probably asked her the question wrong. When we come up to something new, a steep ditch, a giant bulldozer, a jogging stroller, a stray dog, I try to remember to give her time to process, but I don’t put the weight of decisions on her shoulders.
I’m not a passenger. I’m the driver and it’s my job to make the decisions, not hers. She trusts me to keep us safe. That trust bond is the reason that I enjoy trail riding so much.
I keep her safe and she carries me through beautiful scenery.
Win-win.
