Off The High Horse

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Our hard working Jack Russell's in the #hamag office! #toughlife #spoiled #pooches (at Hamag)

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Come and visit Hamag at MIHT in the trade village. We are nearly all set up! Lots of products for all ages. The venue looks amazing, let's hope the weather holds out, it's a beautiful day today! #hamag #miht #madetomeasure #leather #gaiters (at Melbourne International Horse Trials)

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Why a Mane?

Do the glorious manes of horses serve any purpose apart from allowing riders to plait and preen their beloved beasts?

Or did Mother nature in her wisdom, realise that humans would need something to hold on to when they learnt to ride?

Few other species of animals have manes of any consequence; namely the lion, giraffe, zebra, and some types of camels and antelopes.

The true wild horses, the Przewalski/Takhi horses from Mongolia have a short upright mane similar to the zebra.

There are theories from both scientists and horse lovers as to why the mane exists:

The mane helps water run off the horse’s neck.

The mane helps keep pesky flies and bugs off the horse’s neck. It offers similar insect protection as swishing the tail does for the body of the horse.

It is most probable that horses and ponies in the colder climates evolved with thicker manes for warmth, such as the Yakut horses in freezing Siberia.

Stallions traditionally have had longer manes than mares, and it is argued that this is to protect them when fighting with rival stallions.

And somewhat obviously, the forelock protects the eyes.

However the real catalyst for luxurious horse manes is believed to be mankind’s desire for the horse to look pretty. According to Dr. Katherine Houpt, DVM, an emeritus professor of animal behaviour at Cornell University, it was not until people began to domesticate horses that they began to breed them with long hair on their manes. “No one knows for sure why, but it was presumably for aesthetics, similar to why Persian cats were bred to have long hair” says Dr. Houpt, author of Domestic Animal Behaviour for Veterinarians and Animal Scientists. “If you look at true wild horses, they have really short manes.”

If this is so, it makes us realise the impact of humankind on horses, sometimes positive, sometimes not.

So next time you curse when you are plaiting up for an event or trying to untangle some horrendous knot in the mane, you can blame the generations of equestrians before you!

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Edit: Check out this Telegraph article on how British pagans caused a stir over midnight mane plaiting in 2009!

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Pony Club is more than Pony Club: Part III

When our family first joined Pony Club we were told that it was a youth movement, but in reality it is a family affair: my ever patient husband and I agreed that we would give up one Sunday for our kids with their ponies. We were totally ignorant of the fact that Pony Club was all encompassing like some sneaky sect; that Pony Club slowly and steadily can and does overtake lives.

Photo: countrylife.co.uk

Firstly, to be part of the community and support our children’s interest, we joined the Pony Club Committee. We sat quietly in the corner of the cold and creaky Scout’s Hall, hoping that nobody would notice us. And it was only when we shared a cup of warming coffee, post meeting, that we were congratulated by strangers for becoming Office Bearers! We mumbled some words in shock but were reassured by all present that these were easy jobs, that they would take little time and meetings were only once a month.

Soon the telephone rang for all matters Pony Club; some important, many trivial. The callers always knew when we sat down for dinner and some had no clocks at all, as the phone would ring late into the night. Then there were subcommittee meetings, then zone meetings (regarded as a promotion) and piles of paper work to match, like the ever-exciting strict governance and procedural rules required by the powers that be.

Every Pony Club experienced an ISSUE, something which blew up when somebody's little darling was not selected for a team, not upgraded to the level at which the parents believed their child had the talent for or somebody said something inappropriate to somebody else. Words were said; phone calls made and before long a situation worthy of a United Nations debate arose. This commotion was then followed by the Peace Process when conciliatory words, placating phone calls and mediation were carried out. The matter was settled then or the aggrieved family went to another club.

As with all Pony Club children, our daughters wanted to do the various certificates available to them, which meant they could add medals to their sweaters. So nights after school we would take them to certificate classes in the home of some generous parent which was always at the extremity of our Pony Club's zoning; in other words, a long way off.

Every Pony Club had a PROJECT: new grounds, new jumps, new club house, upgrading of sand arenas, new loos. In other words something which necessitated parents time, labour and money. This work also included the bane of every local club and association. FUND RAISING. Chocolate drives, trivia nights, car boot sales and wine labelling were some of the many tried and reliable forms of money raising. Our friends were very tested by being continually called upon to buy, supply and consume. Even though they recognised my fund raiser face, they never fled. No better friends could humankind have.

Of course every Pony Club had EVENTS: competitions, games, horse trials, show jumping, dressage and the children’s highlight, the annual gymkhana. Again we parents were to the fore, organising, marshalling, stewarding, judging, organising prizes, cooking, setting up and cleaning. Horse parents were, and still are, totally immune to all weathers. Many a time driving in cold pouring rain to an event, did we wistfully look at the passing indoor tennis courts and basketball arenas. No horse parents were stoic and horse events were only cancelled if the arenas were ten feet under water. Many a time the by standing parents would squint into the driving rain to watch their beloved child and pony slowly being subsumed by mud. It was not uncommon for a Pony Club parent to have two washing machines: one for normal family life and one for Pony Club life.

That all said being part of the Pony Club brotherhood was some of the best years spent together as a family. It kept our children tired and out of trouble. We all have made lifelong friends from this time, all with a common interest of children and ponies, yet from a very diverse background. The latter brought new ideas, contacts and knowledge. Our Pony Club time was a wonderful school for the machinations of the horse world. This school enabled us to be a continuing part of the Australian equestrian scene, both as participators, administrators and part of a wider community. We watch the next generation of parents moving in to take the Holy Pony Club orders and we hope that they receive the blessings we did.

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Hapless Pony Club Parents: Part II

And so it was that the pony club grounds rose out of the mist and we were greeted by a sea of happy, excited faces, and bustling parents. Ponies of every age, shape, size and colour were tethered to fences or floats, ready for the day ahead. Our previous angst disappeared. We felt pretty spiffy with our spotless ponies and our new (albeit quaint) float, which we won in a community raffle. Though it was free it was obviously a prototype, designed by a manufacturer with avant-garde ideas. Upon sobering up, he realised that this creation would not sell. So he made a big fella of himself by donating it for a worthy fund raiser. Regardless, as first-time float owners we were living the dream.

Just as we finished unloading our wound up children, diffident ponies, and a shop load of gear, a huge white truck worthy of Top Gear pulled up beside us, and an immaculate white pony alighted as if a film star stepping out of a stretch limo. We suddenly felt a little less cool.

With our ponies saddled, the Olympians of tomorrow mounted and headed off for roll call and inspection. Welcomes, club news, and the day’s activities were all announced and the ponies and children were all inspected in Royal Show turn out fashion. I was relieved that there were nods and smiles when our children were assessed. And then I was summoned over to the inspectors’ confab. The exquisite saddle that our oldest had inherited from my late mother was deemed outdated and not appropriate for pony club. Swallowing my pride I retreated, a little deflated.

I had not yet realised that upon joining pony club, mothers are initiated with the Royal Order of the Towel. The towel insignia slung over my shoulder was to become an indispensable part of my uniform for years to come. Its uses were invaluable for wiping everything, from children’s runny noses, dust from saddles, final buffing of ponies’ coats and wiping of bridle bits. The rest of the week the towel sat in a bucket of bleach.

At least in a moment, when the kids would be off on their activities I could sit and relax with a steaming cup of tea.

Wrong.

Unbeknownst to me, my little darlings had nominated me for canteen monitor. So with a deep sigh, I headed off for the shed, creatively called the canteen. This was obviously the palace of the local rodents and delinquents re-enacting history of the Goths and Vandals. Where to start? Thank heavens I was partnered with a very resourceful woman, and together we washed, scrubbed, swept and repeated.

Our first duty was always tea time for the instructors. It was overlooked that we were not mounted like our children, so it was a hike, first to get all the teachers’ preferences, then to deliver their orders. Next task was the barbecue, which we had to sanitise from rat poo, with much scrubbing and boiling water, all the while praying our children would be spared the bubonic plague. We were greatly reassured by those who knew that nobody had been ill (yet). So for the next few hours I cooked meat for all tastes, along with onions, bacon and eggs. Whilst watching these being wolfed down as riding apparently made one very hungry, I watched the kids having the best time. Their pristine uniforms were slowly degrading from riding exertion, horse sweat and playing in the mud. I observed how effective the horse nutrition lesson had been as I watched a child feeding her pony a dim sim.

The afternoon session was voluntary and I had visions of heading home for an afternoon nap or perhaps a good film on the TV. However it was Pony Club Games, and after a few ‘please, pleease, pleeease Mum, can we stay’ my visions of relaxation dissipated. Now smelling like a greasy takeaway shop from the barbecue vapours, I learnt the rules and regulations of being a Mounted Games steward and had to admit that it was a heap of fun. The fluffy Shetland ponies had done this all before, and like me, would have loved an afternoon siesta. They simply refused to budge when the starting flag was waved. We parents were called in to pull these strong willed ponies along. Every muscle was used to pull them along the length of the pony club ground, and every muscle was used to stop them bolting back to the finish.

Pony Club was finished for the day, or so I thought, as our weary children, even wearier ponies and totally knackered selves headed for the float. It was now pack up time. Every bit of equipment had to be collected, carefully stacked and locked away to safeguard it all from vandals and thieves. The show jumps were heavy and awkward and the chief equipment minder was pedantic as to the order in which it was packed. We parents acquiesced to his sergeant’s commands, as we knew it was for the good of The Club.

The ponies were more excited than we were to head home, and in fact one, upon being unsaddled and rubbed down, cantered from 20 metres straight into the float, no urging required.

The travails of the day were totally repaid, when driving home, our youngest rider stated, ‘This has been the best day of my life.’ and promptly fell asleep.

To be continued…

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"What’s discouraging is time and time again, that raw talent stays raw. It doesn’t get developed. When we do see these kids at shows, the upper echelons of the sport are quick to say they aren’t good enough or their horses aren’t good enough, and we let them slip through the cracks to undeveloped averageness. This is not the kids’ nor the horses’ faults. This fault is ours."

Jeremy Steinberg (via natshorses)

How often do I see kids with innate talent that unfortunately is not nurtured for many reasons; family interest or understanding, finances or competing interests, geography and other socio economic reasons. It would be wonderful to have talent scouts looking to assist and guide this raw talent.

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Hapless Pony Club Parents. Or How To Be Good Pony Club Parents For Dummies

When we ventured into the magical world of Pony Club, our family was filled with hopes of enhancing our children’s riding, their making of friends with similar interests, and our sitting back on Sunday, watching our darlings and sharing a convivial coffee or tea. After all, Pony Club is parent-thoughtful, too, for the aim is to start early on a Saturday or Sunday morning so that we will get home early to enjoy the rest of the weekend. Right?

The reality: Pony Club started the day before with preparing the pony, washing, brushing, cleaning out the float and preparing something to donate to the canteen. Pony Club was and still is a Family Commitment.

We did not want to miss out on the social activities of our saner friends, so I scrubbed as much horse dirt from my caked fingernails, hoof black from hands and any other equine forensic evidence I carried. We headed off for dinner where our friends planned a long, heavy night. We aimed to be home by midnight but the clock marched on. When we crept into our home so as not to wake tomorrow’s equestrians, I slipped on the saddle soap and tripped over the saddles in the dark. These had been left on the floor, dutifully cleaned by our children in readiness for the morning. Our heads hit the pillow and in only moments, the alarm went off. It was 6.30am already, though still dark outside. I hobbled to the kitchen as my toe was still aching from its altercation with the saddle. Our kids were, of course, easily woken as they were so excited. My youngest even slept in her pony club shirt and jumper. I asked them to bring the ponies into the yard and feed them. Minutes later, there was a call for help as the ponies could not be found in the dark. In actual fact they were hiding as their inner clock told them them it was pony club day and they would have preferred to enjoy their Sabbath. So I reluctantly put my swollen foot into my gumboots and headed off with torch in hand to retrieve the recalcitrant ponies.

We then gobbled down something that resembled breakfast, filled the thermos and checked that the kids were dressed in their correct and full pony club attire. This was when the lack of sleep and perhaps the previous night’s abundant wine kicked in, for there was ALWAYS part of the uniform missing and the Pony Club DC was a stickler for correct uniform. Heaven forbid that we earned points for our PC House on our first day. We shook out the vacuum cleaner to find that elusive badge and raided the clothes basket for matching socks.

Backing the farm ute, in the dark, to the exact link for the float was a challenge worthy of Mark Webber and only on the third attempt did we succeed. Phew. The kids loaded the float the night before with most of the gear. Did riding really need this much leather, nettting, buckets, bandages and feed?

Now the whole family was edgy as we were behind schedule. Lateness demerit points were looming! We just prayed that our sweet innocent ponies were in the loading mood. First one was easy. Then our dog decided this was a good time to chase our cock-a-doodling rooster into the float. Pony One panicked and Pony Two said “I am not having any part of this”. So looking at the clock, niceties disappeared. I  kicked the dog and the cockerel out of the float, grabbed Pony One firmly and looked him in the eye, in a “don’t mess with me” stare. He acquiesced immediately. Pony Two knew that I had made an offer she could not refuse, and walked in with ears back. Before they could change their minds, the float door was shut and we were on our way.

It was then as we drove along in the slowly emerging dawn, that we saw no other house’s occupants had stirred; no tell-tale lights were on. All those lucky people were still probably tucked up in their warm bends.

What were we thinking of?

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Horse Scents

Horse Flatulence

Equine Anal Gas

Gastro Intestinal Discharge

Methane Gas

Break Wind.

Or in everyday parlance a Fart.

For horses, there are no social norms or required etiquette in passing wind. They are free to let it go at any time, in any place and in any occasion.

Also strength, odour and sound are not issues for the horse. For all animals, flatulence is a vital part of the digestive system, and for horses, even more so as they cannot belch or vomit. As is the case with humans, variation in discharging methane gas is a reflection of diet and an abnormality is an indicator that all is not well with the horse.

Most riders find that their horse’s farting is not much of a problem when riding, as they are seated ‘downwind’ as it were. For those driving carriages, however, it can be very unpleasant, as the driver can cop the full blast, being seated in line of sight. At least for them and for grooms, who happen to be at the wrong end of the horse at the wrong time, it is a blessing that horses are herbivores, and not omnivores or carnivores. We all know that a diet consisting of meat, while delicious, can add a certain bouquet to flatulence.

We would love to hear from you about funny farting stories of your horse. One we have is of a well-known and successful show jumper, when the amount of energy he needed to clear a jump, was indicated at every hurdle with comparative fart. This exhibition amused the audience greatly but embarrassed the poor young girl who rode him!

So let us know your stories below please! We would love to share them.

And we couldn't possibly end a post about equine flatulence without including this work of art from Budweiser:

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Horse, dog and human: A love affair

Well of course we know that that would be YOUR dog, but just in case there are some other notables out there, we thought we might do some research into this. (I fess up to having three very recalcitrant Jack Russells myself).

Have you ever noticed that horse lovers tend to be dog lovers? It seems to go with the territory. This ménage a trois goes right back to homo sapiens’ earliest days when dogs and horses were indispensable for survival, companionship, hunting and protection. Different people groups bred their own breeds of dogs and horses to suit their climatic and geographic needs.

The paradox is that humankind needs neither dog nor horse to survive today, yet we love them all the more.

Fast forward to the Middle Ages when stag, deer and wolfhounds were the ubiquitous canines for the mounted nobility and land gentry, who could afford the time and cost of hunting. Picture the squire at the end of the day’s hunting, drinking wine by the fire with his beloved wolfhounds at his feet. The iconic foxhounds originated in England for the huntin’ and shootin’ gentry to assist them in their mounted quest for the inedible fox. The Terrier, the Jack Russell as we now know him, then emerged as an aid to the hounds as their wee size enabled them to get down burrows and into hollow logs to flush out foxes.

Throughout the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries, the Dalmatian was the dog of choice for horsemen. There was a belief that the Dalmatian had a calming influence on horses. (Is this a similar belief to that of grey/white horses having a settling effect on other horses and thus being preferred for the Clerks of Course horses at the races?) Dalmatians were also valued for their loyalty and stamina as they needed to trot along both riders and carriages to protect against robbers and vagabonds. Horse thieves were very prevalent in those days; so the Dalmatians slept with the horses to guard them. These spotted canines became quite a social status and even today they are frequently seen as outriders on brewery carriages. Breweries such as Anheuser-Busch still have a Dalmatian on their wagons as a legacy of their original duty of prevention of beer thefts.

Today in Australia, the lively Jack Russell is one of the most popular dogs for horse owners. We have the famous Roycroft family to thank for this - Mavis Roycroft brought some of the first Jackies back from the Duke of Beaufort’s breeding. Mavis fell in love with these incorrigible terriers during Bill’s very successful European and Olympic eventing campaign. Even today a Roycroft bloodline Jack Russell is still very desirable and Barry and Lyn Roycroft fortunately still breed them.

Jackies continue their legacy even in dog racing. The event is very popular at many horse competitions and though all breeds are welcome and take part, these racing capers are dominated by Jackies and to a lesser extent, Dachshunds. It is not always the finishing line that attracts these wilful racers; a rumble with other dogs only adds to their pleasure.

Indeed, dogs give horse lovers great joy. They are happy to accompany you through all-weather to feed, groom and attend your horse. They help you with training and exercising, either trailing you or shooting underneath on the hunt for some smaller beast. They will travel quite happily with you to all sorts of events.

Above all dogs do not give a damn whether you have won or lost. They are just happy to be with you, and love you for what you are. So whatever dog you love and love to share your horses with is the perfect horse dog.

Do you have any tales to regale about your canine friend supporting you? Is your dog the perfect horseman? Tell us about it in the comments!

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All the wonder and artistry of Fiers a Cheval. Created in France, these horses and their puppeteers emerged as if from a dream to perform at Enlighten.

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The creativity of humanity. What an awesome way to honour the horse

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**Wooden jewellery box with stirling silver horse plaque** Every purchase of a jewellery box in the next 7 days will receive a free equestrian themed pewter letter opener. Check out the website www.hamag.com.au/gifts/jewellery.html *Offer ends 4pm, 6th March 2014. Limited stock available. (at Hamag)

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Check out our new sound-operated toy horses! Available on our website www.hamag.com.au They come in 4 colours; pink, blue, grey and striped. They have three functions, neigh, rear and gallop! Hours of entertainment! Only $34.99. #neigh #rear #gallop

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Is horse riding even relevant anymore?

As equestrians in the twenty-first century, it is worth considering as we clean out stables, pay yet another vet bill and wake up for events before the rest of the world arises: what is the logic of the continuing friendship between human and horse?

Horses have been such a partner in humankind’s development. They have provided us with transport, either drawn or ridden. They’ve given us, with their strength, the ability to move heavy loads for freight, for building and for turning mills. The early settlers in the western US would have been quickly cut off had it not been for the Pony Express. Many parts of Australia would have been isolated had it not been for Cobb and Co. Even the staple drink of many societies would not have reached its thirsty customers without the legendary Clydesdales of Carlton United and Budweiser, and Shire Horses of Tetley. My own grandfather had three hundred Clydesdales in Richmond, Melbourne for carting Carlton United beer. Horses pulled ploughs so that crops could be grown. Horses enabled us to hunt our prey including the inedible fox. Horses were (and in some cases still are) even valued as a source of milk, meat and leather. 

So universally practical was the horse that it is still the standard by which power is measured. James Watt devised the term horsepower when he measured the power of steam engines with that of draft horses. In electrical terms 1 horse power unit equals approximately 746 watts. There are also mechanical, metric, boiler and hydraulic units of horsepower.

Armies became more efficient and mobile with the advent of cavalries. The fearsome Cossacks of Russia would not have travelled the Russian Steppes so rapidly without their horses. Genghis and Kubla Khan would not have moved much further from Mongolia. Alexander would not have been Great without his horse. The British would not have colonised so much of the world without the horse, particularly the Australian bred remounts. The same goes for the Spanish in the Americas. Shakespeare would not have created the immortal words for Richard III, ‘a horse, a horse, my Kingdom for a horse’, nor would Paul Revere have been able to cry out ‘turn out your militia’ effectively if he had been on foot. In fact the political boundaries of the world map would be quite different without the horse as too the genetic makeup of many peoples.

Today it would seem almost silly to bring an animal into a battlefield, a construction site, or even a highway. The mid-twentieth century saw a dramatic decline in the number of horses in the western world as they were replaced by mechanisation on all fronts.  Very few mounted cavalries even exist anymore, with the 61st Cavalry in Jaipur, India being the only non-ceremonial regiment worth mentioning.

And so it would seem that we do not need the horse anymore.

But not only do we allow the tradition to live on, but we support it vigorously with time and money (and a lot of it!). So why, then, do we keep up the riding tradition? Why not let it go the way of the ox, mule or donkey? When was riding relegated to being one of life’s great pleasures, instead of a day-to-day necessity? What is this madness pray tell.

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How the times haven’t changed

As the Buddha said, ‘the only constant in life is change.’

As you may have noticed, many in the horse world seem apprehensive of change - even when it comes to their own bodily comfort and safety. For instance much of the regulated riding clothing used in Australia originated in cold Europe, and comes from either a masculine officer military background, or country riding such as fox hunting. Elite competition clothing rules are designated by the Fédération Équestre Internationale (FEI), an organisation long governed by tradition-bound nobility. These rules filter down to local and national competitions, where riders compete in tails or tweeds in the blistering Australian sun.

Much of the clothing, still worn, was created for a purpose which no longer exists. The much worn stock was created to double as a bandage for either rider or horse. It was also designed to keep the European cold from seeping in around the neck. The woollen waistcoats often seen in the show ring were originally designed as a visual accessory for men and then as a semi corset to show off a man’s physique. It stayed on as an extra layer of warmth against the European cold. 

Top hats are a classic example of where tradition overrides reason and even safety. The top hat evolved in England in the late eighteenth century. Despite serving no useful purpose apart from decoration, it still remains part of FEI dressage. The first dressage rider to wear a safety helmet at any Olympics was the Canadian Jacqueline Brooks in London in 2012! In a safety-conscious and litigious world this none short of bizarre.

The only difference between the above riders is 88 years.

Riders are athletes, yet unlike many of their sporting compatriots, much of their clothing does not reflect this. Look at modern tennis, cricket, cycling. We were told that the heavens would fall in if they moved into more practical – and dare we say colourful – clothing!

The style of clothing we wear does not affect the performance or welfare of the horse; it would seem horses are disinterested in our own sartorial affairs. Yes breeches and jodhpurs have morphed into materials and shapes which are more suited to the modern riders. And God forbid that any rider would compete in outrageous designs – even muted colours are rare.

Where are the designers in Australia and in other warmer climates who could be creating designs and materials more practical for riding? There are wonderful, sport-suitable new fibres already available. Where are the riders brave enough to stretch the boundaries?

Yes it is important to be neat and safe, even consistent, when riding competitively, but when will riders be bravely individual, more practical and dare I say adventurous with their clothing? Tradition may help define who we are, but if we slavishly follow it we miss out on what we could become.

Have you seen any emerging trends in equestrian attire? What suggestions have you got to make equestrian fashion more practical? Or, are we overstating the need for adaptation in the horse world? Share with us below in the comments.

We’ll leave you with this particularly relevant number from Fiddler On The Roof:

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Be prepared this Valentines Day. Win your own salt n pepper shakers! #hamag #valentinesday (at Hamag)

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Have your gaiters custom made #hamag #gaiters #custommade #madetomeasure #measuringguide (at Hamag)

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Where are the Boys?

Where are the boys in riding today?

Over the years we’ve seen a lot of young riders pass through our gates. Sport in general and horse riding in particular affords a wonderful childhood. It keeps kids healthy and includes them in their community. It does wonders for physical and mental health and is a stepping stone for becoming well-adjusted adults.

We’re old enough to remember when elite riding was dominated by men – in fact the very first woman to ride in the Olympics for Australia was Bud McIntyre in Tokyo in 1964. Since then there has been a steady decline in the ratio of boys to girls in riding. Why is this so and how can we reverse the pattern? Why has the perception of ‘girliness’ afflicted the riding scene? Is it because of My Little Pony, or The Saddle Club series, where young girls predominate?

There is a misconception that one does not need to be strong to ride – that’s why girls can do it, right? Not only is that line of thought unfair, but it’s inaccurate as the second strongest athletes at the Olympic Games, after weightlifters, are equestrians – riding half a tonne of horse. Interestingly enough, horse events are one of the few sports at international and local levels where men and women compete together. If it is adrenalin thrills that young boys are looking for, horse riding provides it in buckets. Could it be that we need to find more fun things for young riders to do, rather than some of the dry lessons one needs to achieve horse mastership?

Some parents believe that boys drop out of riding around puberty because of self-consciousness and body image. Over the years, jodhpurs and breeches have shrunk for girls and boys alike! They've become more glamorous and restricting – and the boys who wear them rarely get past high school bullies unscathed. Take a look at the winners’ podium and you can see their discomfort, and a longing for baggy jodhpurs.

It’s not their fault that boys these days grow up hearing that it’s gay to ride horses. We’ve already established that it once was practically the opposite, so at what point did this ridiculous stigma attach itself to equestria? Sexuality is certainly no definer of who makes a successful rider. 

There is also a huge benefit in being a young guy riding as there is a huge reservoir of young good looking girls with a shared horse passion!

As with all successful athletes, family support is vital. The young boys who survive their adolescent years have good self-image and strong family/community support to show for it. More Australian country boys, as compared to those from urban areas, are involved in riding pursuits. Is this because of the various types of riding offered to them, better self-image issues, greater access to community support, or country mentors? The Roycroft family comes to mind here.

Different riding disciplines have different male-to-female ratios, of course – polo cross, show jumping and eventing for instance have a healthy representation of young men. At the Pony Club and Interschool levels, however, society seems to be stuck in this mindset of “no boys allowed.” How can we redress this issue? Is the situation same the world over? Share your thoughts below in the comments!