Somewhere, in the dusty recesses of my brain, exists the equitation-obsessed, stirrup-less wonder of my youth. In my first week on the new job the rusty gears of my former hunter-self began creak and groan to life.

OK, maybe I’m exaggerating a little. It’s only been five years since I graduated from the IHSA hunter equitation wonderland/boot camp of Hollins University (Va.). But in those five years my riding has taken me in a variety of directions and disciplines on a range of green to very green horses. Not to say that while riding cross-country I threw my previous training out the window, and rode like a gorilla—quite the contrary. Form follows function and I was especially position-conscious when galloping a green horse down to a solid object. The phrase “thou shalt not lean ahead” became my mantra.

Equitation is a relative term and what is appropriate and functional for one discipline does not necessarily translate to another. A good foundation makes shape shifting through the disciplines a lot easier and I have my ever-patient childhood trainer Joanie Marsh to thank for that.

In the past week I’ve been challenged to revive the hunter princess. Get my shoulders back, close my hip angle, put my hands down, follow more with my arm, release more, make the horses go forward without it looking like I’m lighting their tails on fire, stop sticking my feet out in front of me in the air, control my facial expression (my concentration face vacillates between enraged and crazy train, so I’ve got to work on that one…) oh, and RELAX.

I’ve noticed that a big part of accomplishing all these things is being able to trust my horses. I’ve learned so much riding green horses, but at the same time, I’ve also become a bit of a survivalist. Shoving my foot in front of me at the base of the fence was an effective means of not falling off if a greenie decided to: A. interpret the 18-inch crossrail as the Puissance wall, B. do their best western sliding stop, or C. exit stage left. But as I canter to the crossrail on a made junior hunter, this position tic of mine has become obsolete. Last week I don’t think I jumped anything higher than 2’6″, but the equitation overhaul was enough to leave me feeling like I’d run around Rolex.

Don’t think for a second that I’m not extraordinarily grateful for the instruction. I realize what a huge gift it is to have the uninterrupted attention of the Barkers. I anticipated that I would have to assimilate into their system, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how open-minded they are to my ideas. I think that’s what really defines the best horse people. It’s important to develop a consistent program to train your horses and riders but not close yourself off to new methods. And if I’ve learned nothing else in the past four years, it’s that there is definitely more than one right way to train a horse. 

Chronicle blogger and hunter/jumper trainer Paige Cade worked at Tebogo Sport Horses, a facility in Delaplane, Va., devoted to the re-training and sales of off-the-track Thoroughbreds, and has recently accepted a job with Eight Oaks, which specializes in hunters, jumpers and equitation horses.