How we Learn

At 10, I wanted to gallop up and down the runway at the little airport in Forked River, NJ. That sweet chestnut pony, Misty was somewhat willing to comply and I had a ball! I rode bareback and with a halter. That is not to say I was sensitive to her feelings, it was all about go!

Ages 11-14, I rode weekends and summers at Frontier Day Camp. I worked all week for the $5 it cost to go riding weekends. I thought nothing of crashing through brush and being run into trees. My favorite horse, Daisy was a mare who was missing her foal and was crazy to get back to the barn. I was lucky in that I wasn't the girl who fell from her, got dragged and later died. I thought she had spunk!

At 15, I was sent off to a convent boarding school and rode some equally spiritless horses at a barn. Awful year!

At 16, I rode horses bought at auction by two old cowboys, father and son (both of them younger than I am now).  Those cowboys didn't ride as they were too busted up. You'd think I'd reconigze the obvious! They saddled up 6 or 8 horses a day for me to try out. I don't think they hand picked them for disposition, and if I asked, 'has he ever been ridden?' They would respond, 'well, we don't really know.' Probably they had, as now they were standing with a saddle on without too much hassel.  Those rides were interesting and I was lucky.

At 18, I began riding an off the track trotting horse, a big Standerbred, who was rescued by a kind and thoughtful man, who spent years gaining that ruined horse's trust. I began to be more gentle, very, very soft with this elegant horse, Squire. We rode the trails and backroads together in Hopewell Township, sometimes we galloped at night on the rolling grass lawns at ETS. I began to think more about how the horse felt.

During the school year, at College in Virginia, I exercised a barn full of horses. The part I loved best was going out in the field, climbing on the lead mare and galloping down to the barn with the herd all around me. Every afternoon I rode 3 or 4 horses, the grooms brushing them and handing them to me ready to go. Hard to develop much relationship that way, but I had my favorites including the "proud cut' Morgan, who's spirit was still so intact.

Then back in Princeton,  there was the Polish Calvery Officer who taught me dicipline. I was made to ride without reins, posting without stirrups, having instructions shot at me like a machine gun. I did things that I would never have dreamed of doing on my own. It was exciting, but there was not much connection to the horse. Who was that horse I was riding?

Learning about horses came so slowly. Horsemanship is primarily an oral tradition. I had no one to really teach me about the horse, what does he think, what does he feel, what makes him feel safe, how to create a bond, how to relate without riding, how to teach without hurting. There must be more than getting on and just going!

This has been my journey this past 15 years... gentle, slow, natural, creating connection and developing relationships with my horses. Always ending on a good note, with the horse happy, relaxed and more confident.  There was lots of learning, plenty of mistakes, good days and bad.. but now, there are mostly good days.. where the horse and I are both happy.