Horsemanship on the Trail: Leap-Frog!

Finn and I had a GREAT ride yesterday morning with my fantastic riding buddy, Sally, and her inexperienced mare, Tiva. We chose the Clear Creek Trail in Carson City, a winding ride up a gently sloping mountainside. It’s a beautiful trail with one inconvenient feature: a ridiculously narrow pass-through gate at the trail head. Even the cyclists complain about it!

Someone's idea of a pass-through gate.

Although I hope the gate will ultimately be made more reasonable, for now it’s providing an excellent challenge for any passing horsewomen. The first time we rode Clear Creek, Finn and I struggled going back through the gate on our way to the trailer. Finn bumped his legs rushing it a few times, then thought it best to not try at all. Passive persistence won out in the end, though, and he eventually thought his way through.

Recalling what finally led to the desired results last time, I didn’t allow him to rush his initial attempts yesterday. Instead, I brought one foot through and backed it out, then two feet through and backed them out. Once he could bring two feet through and wait confidently before backing out, carefully bringing his hind legs through was no big deal and we left it at that. On the way back to the trailer, it went even smoother. That alone was a significant success in my book!

Not far up the trail, I noted that Finn was more connected to Tiva then me. When Sally and Tiva would resume walking after we’d stopped for a moment, Finn thought he should leave with them without too much regard for whether I was going, too! I could have gone with it, but that would’ve been counter to my long-term goal of having a calm, connected, reliable partner to ride. So, I asked Sally to ride ahead a little ways and stop, allowing me to remind Finn he ought to wait patiently until I ask him to walk on.

As I rode up to Sally, she asked if I would do the same for her. We ended up spending the next hour leap-frogging up the trail, building up to longer distances and eventually to trotting. While it was a slow way to cover ground and not the most conducive to conversation, it was an EXCELLENT experience for the horses. After several repetitions, I felt what I’d been waiting for. Finn gave no thought to following along as Tiva passed us, and then no thought to stopping when we passed her. He was on the same page as me, instead of reading over Tiva’s shoulder!

Finn waiting patiently. Sally & Tiva in the distance.

The frequent stops and waiting also helped Finn relax. While waiting, I sometimes played with refining our lateral flexion and control of the hindquarters. When we were passing, we practiced transitions, picking up a soft feel, and staying centered. In other words, there was no shortage of things to play with, and no shortage of opportunity to practice with great quality. As a result, I had the most connected, grounded Finn I’ve ever had on the trail. I was pretty ecstatic about that!

It’s this kind of thoughtful riding -- prioritizing the development of the horses over seeing the sights and covering ground -- that has challenged my horsemanship, developed Finn’s confidence and maturity, and transformed our partnership. That’s why I’m falling in love with trail riding more and more every time we go out. That partnership, after all, is why I ride, and I now understand the trail as one of the most perfect and infinite places to cultivate that very quality between my horse and I.

That was a relaxing ride; let's take a nap!