Working From Scratch:
Starting a Colt as a Novice Equestrian

by Jan Knudsen
When I climbed into the saddle and rode my colt for the first time, it was a momentous occasion. For nearly 18 months, we had worked towards that moment. At times I thought we would never arrive. But when it finally happened, it really was the stuff of childhood dreams. When I decided to start my own horse, the opinions were mixed. Some were enthusiastic, but many others (especially those who had been around horses for a long time) warned me that raising and starting a horse was tough business-that it required three things: expertise, patience, and lots of time. And there is no doubt that I found all of that to be true.

So how did someone like me, a novice, go about training and starting my own colt? There were moments when it wasn't easy. I didn't have the expertise-that was for certain-so I set out to find it, taking it wherever it was to be found, be it books, magazines, the Internet, demonstrations, or plain old brain picking from anyone I knew who knew horses. I did have the patience the experts talked about (after all, I had waited 40 years for a horse of my own)-but at those moments when I found my patience waning, I took deep breaths and reminded myself of my goals. And time? Well, it was the one thing I could give easily-my horse project became a focal point in my life, and I looked forward to the 30 minutes a day, 5-6 days a week that I dedicated to training my colt.

Was it worth it? The answer is an emphatic YES! Would I recommend it to others? Absolutely!

Like so many other equestrians, I had often daydreamed about starting my own horse-daydreamed of watching its birth, of imprinting it minutes later, of nurturing it through infancy, and of training it to become my trusty mount. The daydreams started in childhood when I didn't have a prayer of owning a horse. I was lucky just to go trail riding a few times each summer. Yet the idea of starting my own horse was born in those days, and it was an idea that would lay dormant for many years. As life would have it, I never even owned my own horse until I reached my mid 40s. But as soon as I bought my first horse and started trail riding, the fantasy of raising my own steed came roaring back to life. But reality and fantasy had to merge because dreams rarely come true in their pure form. My reality meant that I didn't have a mare appropriate for breeding or a proper place that could be dedicated to foaling. So instead of raising my horse from birth, I went in search of a weanling. What I fell in love with was a 10-month-old appaloosa colt who had never been handled-a colt who ran with a small herd of other untamed horses in a large pasture, not too far from where I lived. I named him Joe, after Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Indians.

Many people thought I was crazy to bring such a horse home. I had only been riding a short time-and I hadn't taken any lessons-I went on trail rides-that was it. But the colt I had picked out had tugged at my heart-he was always curious when I visited; and on top of that, he was a looker. So all obstacles aside, I decided I would make it work somehow. After a few hair-raising weeks, however, I was beginning to think that maybe I was crazy.

An un-handled colt, weighing somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 pounds, can challenge the tried and true-it can absolutely intimidate the less experienced-namely me. Joe, my beautiful, blanketed appy colt, was smart, willful, and for the most part, unfazed by my efforts. If it weren't for his curious nature and obvious pleasure at being petted (something he discovered shortly after arriving at my place) I might have lost sight of that good nature hidden beneath his undisciplined self.

Wild Colt-Novice Trainer: Winter 1999 When experienced horse people told me that expertise was a requirement for starting a colt, I had to look to other people's experience because I was such a novice. And looking back, I think that without sources to draw on, I would have been lost. Without any real plan, I began to read everything I could get my hands on. What evolved was a cross-training approach to colt starting. I read Tellington-Jones, John Lyons, Monty Roberts, and anything else that I thought looked promising. I bought magazines, borrowed books, surfed the Web, and asked questions. I also watched training whenever I could, and attended both a Monty Roberts and Buck Brannaman colt-starting demonstration. I also learned some lessons the hard way. One of those lessons came early.

The first thing we needed to learn was leading. Easy stuff, right? Wrong! At one moment Joe seemed anxious to please, but in the next moment he seemed even more anxious to escape. He had discovered that by rearing up and spinning away, he could free himself when he got bored, irritated, or scared. After a few of those incidents, I wondered if I was in over my head. It took a few rope burns, before I figured out that by wearing gloves, I could save that tender flesh on my hands. The gloves allowed me to take a good grip so that I could use my strength and weight to prevent him from pulling away. When Joe's rear and spin escape techniques started to fail, he became much more reliable on the lead line. A small success.

A Little TTEAM When I saw someone using a TTEAM wand with great success, I bought one and began to desensitize Joe. Linda Tellington-Jones advocates the use of the wand as an arm extension-and with my still unpredictable colt, a long arm was very desirable. Joe discovered early on that grooming was a pleasurable experience, just so long as I left his legs alone. He didn't want me touching his legs, and picking up his feet was out of the question. But with my extended arm, I was able to rub him all over, while staying a safe distance from kicking legs. After a few successful sessions with the wand, I was able to stand next to him and rub his legs with my hands. Before long, I was picking up his feet. Thank You, Linda. It was another small success, and the beginning of a new confidence in my ability to learn while I trained. I kept reading, asking questions, and watching anyone I knew who had experience. But even with the successes we experienced, I began to realize, after learning about herd behavior, that Joe treated me like another member of the herd; and in his horsey mind, we fluctuated in status. I knew it was time to establish myself as the undisputed leader.

Listening in the Round Pen Monty Roberts, "The Man Who Listens to Horses," had made join-up seem easy. In 30 minutes, not only did he assume leadership over the horse, but he saddled and bridled the horse too-and then set a rider on its back. All I wanted out of my yearling was the leadership role. I had read quite a bit about round pen techniques in John Lyons "Perfect Horse" magazine. And I followed that up by attending a Monty Roberts demonstration. The round pen as classroom made so much sense to me that I scrapped the money together and bought one.

I was excited as Joe and I headed out for our moment of join-up. I envisioned a few quick runs around the pen with Joe showing early signs of submission. But I was quickly brought back to earth. Our first session in that expensive piece of equipment turned into a review of leading because Joe was sure that walking through that gate was going to put him in the grips of the invisible horse eaters.

It was one of those moments when I was sure I was in over my head. Joe planted his feet and refused to go into the round pen. Instead, he popped up on his hind legs, trying his old rear and spin escape. It took a lot of convincing and a good deal of time with the TTEAM wand tapping his hip before he finally lunged forward into his new classroom. Several days later, he could calmly walk in and out of the round pen. It took us many 30-minute sessions before Joe and I achieved true join-up. It was obvious that I was no Monty Roberts. But with time and patience, his methods worked. I have heard a few people dismiss the "join-up process," but for us, join-up marked the turning point. Joe began to trust and respect me. By the end of our first summer, I gave up the gloves and took to hand walking him down our road; I could handle him without fear of strikes, kicks or sudden escape attempts; and I could rub him all over with a blanket, a wand, a rope, my hands, whatever. He began to prefer my company over the old mare in his paddock. (It's true that I was a lot nicer to him than the old mare, but still, it was nice that he preferred me over one of his own kind-we were developing a bond.)

Winter Off Without an indoor arena, the winter marked our time to relax the training quite a bit. I knew that we had come a long way in the 8 months since he arrived, and with light handling, I was confident that he wouldn't go backwards. I made sure to handle him at feeding times, and continued a light grooming routine. When the weather was good, I would spend a little time leading him around his paddock. But while Joe got the winter off, I started in on my own training. With less than a year to go before starting under saddle, I decided that I needed to take lessons. A young horse doesn't need an untrained rider. So, I headed off to a local stable where I began to build a better foundation. I was fortunate to find an instructor who was patient, and who always remembered just what it was that she was preparing me for-an unpredictable colt. Thank you, Christine de Rama!

The Final Stretch As the summer of 2000 approached, I knew that we were on the final stretch. My colt turned 2 that May, and my plan was to get him under saddle at the end of the summer, ride him through the fall, and then give him the winter to be a colt again before we started serious training in the spring of 2001. While I worked hard with him the summer before, I truly believe it was the hard, and consistent work of this summer that would set the tone for his start under saddle. Expertise, patience, and time were again the key to our progress. I talked to everyone I knew who had trained a horse; I reminded myself to stay calm, even in the face of tough lessons, and finally, I made time for Joe every day (even passing on a June vacation because I didn't want any breaks in our routine).

I began the season by sacking him out. We had done some of this the summer before, but it needed to be done again and with more things. I can't say I got this from any one source-sacking out was covered in every colt-starting article that I read. I decided to use as many different things as I could think of to desensitize him to whatever he might encounter in changing environments. I started with the lead line-snaking it through the grass (he thought that was scary!), flicking it between his legs, flopping it over his back, and swinging it over his head. Next I used a saddle blanket. At one point, I used a bucket, rolling it underneath him, first slowly then faster. Eventually, I used a blue tarp. I rubbed him all over with it, flopped in the wind in front of him, pulled it between his legs, and even covered his head with it. I knew we were getting somewhere when he chose to stand on the tarp to help me out one particularly windy day.

Being older and less agile than I once was, I knew that a mounting block would be the best bet for both of us, and so we added that to our training routine. Using a toolbox/step stool as a portable tack box/mounting block, we worked on standing still while I stood above him. We worked on both sides. Next I began to accustom him to some of my weight, leaning on him for a few moments at a time. Once he accepted my weight leaning against him, I put my arms over him and patted him with my hands. Within a few days of that first session, he was standing still for minutes at a time while I hung all over him, tapping and prodding with my hands.

Next came the trailer. John Lyons had written extensively on training a horse to load. I read and re-read those articles. We practiced loading a few times each week. Like many other lessons, this one was tough. The first few times in the trailer were quick indeed because Joe backed out as fast as he could-whether I intended it or not. But we practiced it over and over. We went from front feet in as a success, to walking in calmly and waiting for me to tell him what to do next.

When I knew that I could load him easily, I decided to take him directly to an expert for some lessons in lunging, long lining and steering. I was fortunate to know a certified TTEAM instructor who lived about 35 minutes north of me. Our trips to Marie Hoffman served a dual purpose. First, Joe was exposed to hauling, but in short doses-loading is one thing, but actually being hauled is a different, and sometimes intimidating experience. Second, we learned some of our most important lessons through demonstration. I didn't want to make mistakes when I first put the bit in his mouth. Watching a technique being demonstrated on your colt is much easier to comprehend than reading and looking at photos. Ms. Hoffman was patient with me and firm with Joe. We learned a lot those weeks preceding the first ride.

The First Ride-Colt Starting with Curt Pate (Shown at right):  Although I had worked hard to prepare both my horse and myself for that first ride, I really wanted a professional trainer to be the first one on his back. I was, after all, still a novice and on the far side of 40 to boot! With that in mind, I signed up for colt-starting clinic with Curt Pate. I had already watched Curt at another clinic and liked his easy-going way with both horses and people. I also liked that he rode the colts on the first day of his four-day clinic.

Curt, a protégé of well-known horseman, Buck Brannaman, has an excellent plan for getting colts and owners well on their way. He begins the clinic by riding all the colts. One by one, the colts enter the round pen and are sacked out for a few minutes, saddled, and then driven around the round pen. At our clinic, there were several two- and three-year-old colts and one 8-year-old color champion stallion. I was pleased and excited when Joe happened to be the first one in the ring. Watching a pro like Curt taking my horse through his pre-ride work out was certainly exhilarating. And thanks to all those people who, knowingly or unknowingly, lent me their expertise-Linda

Tellington-Jones, John Lyons, Buck Brannaman, Monty Roberts, Marie Hoffman, and my riding instructor, Christine de Rama-Joe was ready. Most of what Curt did with him those minutes before mounting had already been done in some form. As he worked over Joe with his rope, the blanket, his hands, the saddle, Joe took it in stride. Perhaps the strangest thing that he was experiencing was seeing me on the other side of the round pen.

When Curt tied the lead line of the rope-halter so that it could be used as reins, I quietly hoped that Joe's cross-training summer would pay off. I know that some horses, no matter how long you prepare, will buck, and I didn't want Joe to be one of them. When Curt put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up, he stayed in the position for several seconds, watching for a reaction. When Joe remained calm, he threw his leg over the saddle and began what I hope will be a long career for my horse. Joe, while calm, was unsure about what to do. It was obvious that he wanted to please, but it was just as obvious that he didn't know what it was that would please that human on his back. Curt used his weight and body position to encourage him forward. Unsure, but moving forward, Joe began to catch on. He walked, trotted, and cantered. When Curt dismounted, he congratulated me on my good work. Joe was, he said, as well prepared as colt could be. Of course, most of the thanks should have gone to my group of experts. Without the knowledge they shared, Joe and I might have ended up very differently. But, I admit that I beamed like a proud mom because my boy did "good."

The second day of the clinic was dedicated to groundwork, and it was here where I discovered a gap in our training. In my effort to make my wild young colt a willing partner in my training experiment, I had made him my close partner-close is the key word here. When we got to the part of the clinic where we asked our colts to stand at the end of a long lead line, respecting our space and not coming forward until asked, Joe objected. He wanted to stand close to me. We worked and worked until finally, he did as I asked. But to this day, it is difficult for him-he will do it, but he prefers to stand near my shoulder. And so this is a lesson that we revisit often. On the third and fourth days of the clinic, owners got to ride their colts. I was, I admit, a bit nervous. I trusted Joe, yet this was a big step for me. I was a bit embarrassed to request my mounting block, but I knew I would have been slow climbing into the saddle-and besides all of that, I had worked hard to accustom Joe to a mounting block. I got my mounting block, and Joe stood quietly as I got on. Curt, being a good judge of people, knew I was a novice and a bit nervous on top of it all, and so he kept Joe on a lead line for a few moments. When all was well, he let us go and we began the newest phase of our relationship-horse and rider. Again, walking forward was difficult at first, but he finally figured it out. We walked and trotted, and while Joe wanted to drift away from the rail, by the third time around, we corrected that and were on our way. On day four we rode with all the colts outside of the round pen. We rode between feed bags, rode with feed bags, and tossed a ball back and forth. Near the end, everyone had a chance to canter around the arena. That became another learning moment for me. I wasn't comfortable with the idea of cantering with two other young horses cantering close at hand. But when my name was called, I didn't follow my gut instinct-instead I went out and cantered. Before long, Joe got frightened at the horse behind him and ran into the horse just in front of him. My saddle slipped, I got out of balance, and as I hung on for that split second, sideways, I knew I must hit the dirt. One of the great things about Curt Pate is that he never pushes his students to do things they aren't comfortable with. And if I had listened to my heart, I would have cantered him alone, or even have passed on that exercise, saving it for another day when I felt more confident. But I didn't listen to myself. But Curt was kind and considerate. He retrieved Joe (who didn't go far because he wondered where his mom went) and he kindly put some pressure in the opposite stirrup as I went ahead and mounted from the ground. We finished up by trotting around the arena a few times.

All and all, the clinic experience, and Curt Pate's expertise, gave me confidence in myself and my colt. When we came home, we rode 5 or 6 times a week. At first we stayed in the round pen, then we moved to the pasture, and finally, we rode out in the open. Both of us improved steadily, until finally getting weathered out after Thanksgiving by the endless winter of 2000. But when we made our first ride of 2001 in mid-March, Joe was ready. He was cooperative, even anxious, to go out to the round pen to start back at it.

Looking back now, I am still amazed at the progress we made. When Joe first arrived at my barn on February 28, 1999, I knew very little about training a young horse. And while I know I still have a long way to go, I am thankful for all that I have learned. For me, training my colt was one of the most satisfying things I've ever done. If you are thinking about training a young horse, but are unsure if you can, just remember that the information you need is out there. You can find it on the Internet, in magazines, in books, in people's brains, at clinics-it is all around you. So you want to train a colt? My recommendation is to GO FOR IT!