Chunking

I was chunking before chunking was cool.

Chunking is an instructional design practice that breaks content into small, focused, and easily-repeated chunks. I started chunking in 1999 with “The Horse Show Minute,” my daily radio feature and the heart of my second book, Horse Smarts for the Busy Rider. In 2009, we began chunking on TV by embedding two-minute, standalone features in our shows. So far you’ve seen “Trail Tips,” a how-to series for trail riders, “Nutrition Nuggets,” an overview of horse nutrition, and “Ask the Expert,” a series on custom diet formulation for different types of horses.  A new chunking chapter begins in November when we roll out two new embedded series using this super learning format. The first brings back Dr. Judy Reynolds to debunk horsekeeping myths. The second takes on hoof care with anti-lameness crusader, Gene Ovnicek.

For some strange reason, talking about “chunking” always makes me hungry …

Ponying to Improve Riding

The horseman’s journey plays out in two dimensions, the mental and the physical. I normally help folks with the mental dimension, with understanding the nature of the horse and how they can use that nature to reach their goals in safe, effective, and moral ways. There’s lots of meat there and I can talk for days about that. On the other hand, the main suggestion I have for success in the physical dimension is incredibly simple: Ride more. That’s it. Just get on a horse and ride. Anytime, anywhere, for any purpose, and on any horse.  While you’re at it, forget the old saw, “Practice doesn’t make perfect; perfect practice makes perfect.”  This just begs the brain to get in the way. I find that most people who want to improve their riding are not seeking perfection; they’re seeking greater enjoyment of their riding.

One activity I’ve found that is practical, fun, and perfect for getting your brain out of the way is leading (ponying) one horse while riding another. I did a fair amount of this a few years back with our baby, Sarah. She had a lot of energy, which took a lot of my attention. Sometimes she got out in front of us on the trail. Candy and I would canter along behind her for minutes on end like a skier following a ski boat. What I remember most fondly about that experience is how free I felt, unencumbered by any worry about riding correctly. Yet my riding improved. Lately, I’ve been doing something similar when I walk our mares in the neighborhood.  We keep the speed down to a walk or trot and I vary which horse I ride. Oh yes, I’m doing it bareback, which has dramatically improved my confidence about riding without a saddle. Before ponying, my brain had me firmly convinced that I didn’t belong on a horse’s bare back. Sometimes thinking is overrated.

photo of Marty Marten by Jennifer Denniston for Western Horseman

Big brains. Big hearts.

This week my radio show features an interview with Carrie Scrima, founder of the American Competitive Trail Horse Association, the phenomenon that is breathing new life into trail riding. Armed with a clever organizational model and a noble mission - raising money for horses in need – ACTHA’s intent is clear: to make trail riding into a real sport accessible to all riders and all horses. And oh yeah, to have fun, lots of fun, doing it.

First, full disclosure: ACTHA is a sponsor of my TV and radio shows. However, during the past dozen years, dozens of companies have advertised on my shows. I don’t get excited about all of them.

I’m excited about ACTHA for several reasons, but let’s talk first about horsemanship. ACTHA gives a horse and rider team a job to do. In fact, six different jobs.

ACTHA has developed a series of 30-plus natural trail obstacles that challenge horse and rider to be their best. A typical ACTHA ride, which is called a Competitive Trail Challenge, features six of these obstacles, each with its own judge, spread out over a six-mile course. Obstacles might include crossing a stream or ditch, backing up a hill or around a tree, precise turning on the forehand or haunches, sidepassing down a pole, trotting over a series of logs or cantering over a small jump. There are gates and mailboxes to open and logs to drag. Mounting and dismounting are even treated as obstacles and are judged accordingly. Form and accuracy count.

A CTC is not your granddaddy’s trail ride, that’s for sure, but it’s not as tough as it might sound, either. Carrie calls it “casual” competition and folks can make as much or as little of the competition aspect as they want. It’s a great opportunity to show off your horse and to tune him up at the same time, while sharing some laughs with friends and family.

As horse industry companies begin to align themselves with ACTHA, more and more sponsor goodies are showing up at CTCs. The goal, which is in sight already, is for every rider to receive enough sponsor swag to more than cover the cost of entry. Riders in the open division can also win cold, hard cash at individual rides and their share of a $25,000 year-end pot.

I could go on and on about this, about how affiliation with ACTHA is a fundraising opportunity for local CTC organizers, about how family-friendly the rides are, about how gaited horses excel as do non-gaited horses, about how you are just as likely to see English riding tack and attire as you are to see cowboy hats and lariat ropes, about how ACTHA is a trail horse registry that certifies horses and tracks performance points, and on and on.

But I really want to get to the icing on the cake. Come year-end, ACTHA donates up to 50% of its profits to help horses in need. The beneficiaries of their largesse (horse rescues and other charities) must be legitimate non-profits in business for three years or more.

It seems the folks at ACTHA have big hearts as well as big brains. My kind of people. Check them out at ACTHA.us.

R

Hoof Boots

I like my horses barefoot. I figure about 99% of the time they simply don’t need shoes. It’s that last 1% that’s the problem.

Case in point: In 2008, I took my Quarter Horse mare, Candy, on a five-day, 100-mile men’s ride in the hills outside Wickenburg, Arizona. Of 180 horses, Candy was the only one barefoot.

I planned for it. My hoof trimmer touched up her feet. I purchased a tried-and-true brand of hoof boots and let Candy wear them for a day at home before packing them in my saddlebags. I would slap those babies on at the first sign of trouble. I was ready!

The first day of the ride was relatively easy but day two was a different story: Seven long hours up and down rocky hills. I thought it would never end. By the time we dragged ourselves into camp, Candy and I were both frazzled. I treated her to a shot of bute and myself to a couple of ibuprofen washed down by a Bud Light.

Day three was spent in camp, so Candy got a nice rest. Day four was to be another long ride and, as we were about to leave camp, I decided to put the hoof boots on. It didn’t go very well. Candy was antsy and I was all thumbs. Most of the riders were gone by the time I was ready and they’d left the water crossing at the edge of camp a muddy mess.

You can probably guess what happened next. Both of those boots came right off, sucked up in the mire, and with Candy’s pals disappearing down the trail, I suddenly had two problems: retrieving my brand new hoof boots, and controlling a buddy-sour horse.

I managed to get the boots, scrape off most of the mud and stuff them back in my saddlebags. My trail buddy, Edgell, held Candy’s reins. If he were not a pastor, I’m sure I would have been cussing a blue streak.

By the time we caught up with the other riders, though, something else was weighing on my mind. How could I protect Candy’s feet now? We had a lot more miles to cover, with more water crossings, and I had no confidence in the boots. I did the only thing I could think of: I got out of Candy’s way. I stopped directing her and gave her responsibility for picking her own way through the rocks. She knew where to go and felt safe with all the other horses. This was one case where she didn’t need my leadership. My focus became to sit as lightly and unobtrusively on her back as I could.

My strategy seemed to work. Candy never took a lame step. A hundred miles over rocky trails wore at least a quarter of an inch off her hoof wall. Maybe more. I know some of the other riders were impressed that she’d made it. I was proud.

Then I got her home. For several days, she spent most of her time lying down. The vet came and did radiographs. There was no real damage but I definitely had one very sore-footed horse. And one very large guilt complex. What had I put her through? Several weeks and several hundred dollars later, Candy was back to normal and didn’t seem to hate me.

Still, this was a wakeup call. If I wanted to keep my horse barefoot, I had to be smarter about protecting her feet when they needed it. That started me on a quest for a better hoof boot, one that would really do the job, that would go on easily, and would stay on.

More than a year later, the quest continues, but I have zeroed in on a boot I like. Some of my very serious trail-riding friends swear by it. I’ve acquired a couple pairs to try with our horses and I’ll let you know how it goes.

This is all any of us can do, really. Just keep searching and trying and learning from our mistakes. I think our horses sense our good intentions and they forgive us when we fall short. They know we can’t help it. After all, we’re only human.

R

Just a Trail Horse

How many times have you heard the words, "just a trail horse?" Fortunately, that low-horse-on-the-totem-pole image of the trail horse is on its way out and emerging in its place is that of a skilled and dependable partner, which, for most riders, is an ideal worth pursuing. Organizations such as the American Competitive Trail Horse Association have created ways to measure and document the development of trail horses. This gives structure to what in the past has been a largely unstructured leisure sport for horse owners. The unorganized, haphazard approach to trail riding is still perfectly legitimate and will appeal to some riders, but for those who want a bit more challenge, a bit more socializing with like-minded people, and a plan for adding tangible value to their horses, groups such as ACTHA may be the answer.

I rode in an ACTHA-sanctioned “Competitive Trail Challenge” recently with my mare, Candy. You can see the result on this week’s TV show. With virtually no preparation we aced two of the six trail obstacles on the six-mile course. I was stunned at how much better some of the other horse and rider teams were with these obstacles. Far from discouraging me, it gave me some new things to work on with my “trail horse.” Yes, ACTHA is a sponsor of my TV and radio shows but that only buys them commercials, not the personal opinion I express in my blogs. Bottom line, give it a try. See you on the trail!

R

Eating on the Trail

Hi Rick,
What is your take on a horse eating while on the trail? I understand stopping and putting the head down is a no-no, but what if you never knew it was happening unless you witnessed it? There is some really long grass out there. My friend has to interupt my conversation I might be having with someone else, or my peaceful scenery observation to tell me what the horse I happen to be riding at the time is doing. I am 35 years old and have been riding since before I can remember. This is driving me nuts. I absolutely love going out every weekend to different locations, but because of my friend, I partially want to stay home. Thanks for your input.
TJ

Hi TJ,
I would not be overly concerned about your horse sneaking a bit of grass that is within easy reach. I would be aware of it and be prepared to give the horse something else to think about if it got worse.

Here are the rules for my trail horse: (1) go where I point you, (2) maintain your gait and speed, (3) do not become fixated on the other horses, and (4) respond promptly when I give you a cue. If my horse does all that, I see no need to micromanage her.

Horses often do exactly what we expect them to. There is a connection between what we think is going to happen and what actually happens. If I visualize my horse being calm, confident, and obedient when I ride her, she usually is. However, if I'm worried about her making a certain mistake and focus my mental energy on that, it's much more likely to happen.

This may seem like a bunch of hocus-pocus. However, we know for certain that horses read and interpret all kinds of signals from us that we aren’t aware we’re sending. The surest way to control those signals is to control our thinking.

In short, expect the best of your horse and put your mental energy there. However, remain alert and be prepared to respond to genuine mistakes. One of the best tools for dealing with unwanted behavior is also the simplest: backing the horse. (See my post to Mike on Fidgeting and Surging).

Your friend may have the best of intentions, but don’t let her take the joy out of riding for you. That is its entire purpose.
Best,R