Saddle Sore Riders CLUB

Saddle Sore Riders,

As we settle in as riders and welcome the month of February, I wanted to try something a little different. Over the next few months, I’ll be shifting my usual President’s Letter toward something more educational and informative—stories, observations, and lessons that we can all take something from, no matter where we are in our horsemanship journey. I hope you enjoy this change and find something useful to carry with you on your next ride.

The Making of a Horseman: Why the Small Stuff Always Matters

We’ve all seen it.

A great rider. An amazing horse.

But every once in a while, you see something far more rare: a true horseman or horsewoman.

Spend enough time around horses and you quickly learn that great horses don’t happen by accident. They’re built quietly, patiently, and consistently through thousands of small, intentional moments. In today’s world, we’re fortunate to have access to a wealth of horsemanship knowledge. YouTube alone is scattered with excellent instruction from clinicians like Ken McNabb, Craig Cameron, Chris Cox, and Clinton Anderson.

Each brings a slightly different philosophy and method, but the core message is remarkably consistent: Train the whole horse. Train every ride.

Many riders watch these videos, try a few exercises, and see improvement and that’s great. But what’s truly impressive is when someone takes those principles and applies them every single time they swing a leg over the saddle. They turn trail rides, warm-ups, waiting periods, and even casual outings into meaningful training sessions.

That’s when horses become exceptional. Last week, I had the privilege of witnessing exactly that.

Among nearly 30 riders of all experience levels and horses ranging from solid citizens to those struggling just to finish the ride I watched one rider quietly put everything we hear about into practice. From the moment he mounted, his horse stood perfectly still. No fidgeting. No rushing. The rider adjusted his saddle, settled in, and the horse waited calmly for the next cue.

That rider was Ed Dalton. What followed over the next two and a half hours was a clinic many people would gladly pay for.

Before the ride even started, Ed was already working. He softly engaged his horse’s hindquarters, practiced backing with purpose, and refined lateral movement through side-passing exercises using a parking stall bumper as a visual guide and keeping it centered beneath his horse. He then sought out terrain changes, asking his horse to step up, step down, and navigate different angles building balance, confidence, and responsiveness.

When the ride briefing began, his horse stood quietly through the entire set of instructions. No shifting. No impatience. That alone is powerful training. Standing still is not accidental behavior it’s taught, reinforced, and expected. And that expectation is reinforced every time Ed rides.

Once out on the trail, nothing changed. Ed didn’t “stop training” because the ride had started. Instead, he used the environment exactly the way great horsemen do.

When the trail narrowed between two large traffic pylons with a wide, easy path available just to the left he deliberately guided his horse through the tight space. Later, he used natural distractions along the trail for quiet desensitization, allowing his horse to observe, process, and respond calmly.

None of it looked dramatic. None of it looked forced. It simply looked natural.

That’s the hallmark of good horsemanship.

Over the course of a six-mile ride, Ed consistently challenged his horse not by overwhelming him, but by keeping him mentally engaged. The horse was always thinking, always listening, yet completely relaxed. There were moments when Ed simply rode, chatted, had a beverage and the horse remained a perfect gentleman.

Watching this unfold, you could almost hear people thinking, “Why can’t I have a horse like that?” The answer is simple and encouraging. You can.

That horse wasn’t great because of luck, bloodlines, or shortcuts. He was great because of the time, consistency, and intention Ed brings to every ride. He does the “small stuff” when no one is watching. He reinforces fundamentals daily. He treats every ride especially trail rides as an opportunity to improve softness, responsiveness, confidence, and trust.

As Clinton Anderson often says, every trail ride should be a training session. Not a drill marathon but a thoughtful continuation of the horse’s education.

True horsemen don’t wait for problems to fix. They prevent them through preparation.

And when you watch someone like Ed Dalton ride, you’re reminded that the difference between a good horse and a great one usually comes down to what happens in the quiet moments: how a horse stands, how it yields, how it thinks, and how consistently its rider asks for the best.

That’s not flashy. That’s horsemanship.

And it’s something every one of us can strive for one ride, one moment, and one small detail at a time.

So here’s the challenge: on your next trail ride, don’t just go for the miles go for the moments. Use the wait, the obstacles, the distractions, and the quiet spaces to help your horse become better and yourself become more intentional. The difference between a good horse and a great one is rarely found in big moves, but almost always in the small, consistent things we choose to do every time we ride.

Until next time, enjoy the ride and make it a training experience for both you and your horse.

Don Pettinger 

President

Saddle Sore Riders, Inc.®