Last week in Western Pennsylvania, the highs were barely in the teens. The lows overnight were hovering around zero, and the windchill far below that. 

For both horse and human, it was too cold to ride especially when the average age of my lesson horses is around 20, and my students’ about 8.

On days like those, our barn used to just cancel lessons and take the financial loss. 

But last year we switched to a sessions/semester format, where students pay up front for a set number of lessons. Cancellations become more complicated, and we try to only cancel in emergency situations. 

Additionally, our lesson schedule is very full; our program doesn’t have room to reschedule an entire evening’s worth of lessons. 

When weather prohibits riding, we typically substitute it with an unmounted lesson in the barn, usually hands-on with the horses in some way. We’ve built a program where horsemanship is the cornerstone of our instruction, so unmounted lessons, while not the norm, are very familiar to our students and families. 

But one night last week, on top of the low temps, the predicted dusting of snow turned into 4 inches in just a few hours. Road crews were caught off guard. The news warned of dangerous roads, and I worried about the safety of my families driving to the barn.

Virtual teaching isn’t new to me—I’m a high school teacher who taught online, off and on, through much of COVID. I’m pretty familiar with Zoom and GoogleMeet, and I spent much of the pandemic talking about literature to my teenage students’ ceiling fans. 

So by about lunchtime on that snowy day, when it became obvious that the snow wasn’t stopping and the temperature wasn’t rising, I texted the families of that evening’s students. 

I suggested we meet online, and proposed a time for an hour-long group virtual lesson. 

Every parent jumped on board. Several thanked me for saving them the trip in the weather and the snow. One mom specifically thanked me for the horsemanship education we provide, saying “I’m happy to do this stuff. This is what we love about the barn. The curriculum part we didn’t find anywhere else.”

So at 5:30 p.m., I trekked to the barn to escape my toddler, hunkered down in our under-construction barn office with a heater blasting my lower legs, and logged on with my students. 

They ranged in age from 6 to 10, but the age gap didn’t matter. They loved horses, and they were eager to learn. They raised their hands, they filled in a handout about horse body parts, they colored along as we talked about the breeds of the horses at the barn. 

We had a blast—it was an absolute success. 

So when the roads aren’t safe for driving, or if you don’t have a space at your stable to get out of the elements when the weather is too poor to ride, virtual can be your answer. 

But you have to build the horsemanship culture first. And you have to have the curriculum in place: What is it that you expect your students to know, and when? 

Our equestrian program is broken down into six levels, and at each level there are clear riding and horsemanship skills that a student must master. The night of the virtual lesson, I picked two horsemanship topics (body parts and breeds) that all five of my students needed to learn, and that’s where we spent our time. Both parents and students knew that this knowledge was a requisite and would be tested ­down the road, so all were in support of spending the time studying it, even in a virtual setting. 

At the end of call, the kids said goodnight to me, and to each other. Many of us—myself included—had received phone calls alerting us of a two-hour school delay the next day, so we celebrated our good luck. They promised me they’d try to bring better weather next week for their lessons. And we signed off. 

What would have been three hours of lessons for me became an hour online. I didn’t lose several hundred dollars for the evening, like I used to if I just flat-out canceled, and that money is vital to keeping our horses fed and cared for in the slow season. 

When the lesson was over, I was able to throw my gloves on and help my barn staff break ice on water buckets, fill hay nets and clean stalls so we could all end our night a little earlier. 

It’s never ideal not to have your students with you in person. I’ll be really glad to see all of my little ones back here at the barn this week. 

But virtual lessons ARE possible. And they’re productive. And my students would say they’re a heck of a lot better than no horse time at all. 

At the end of the evening, one of the moms sent me a text: “Quinn said that virtual lessons are way better than virtual school.”

I agree, Quinn. I agree. 

Sarah K. Susa is the owner of Black Dog Stables just north of Pittsburgh, where she resides with her husband and young son. She has a B.A. in English and Creative Writing from Allegheny College and an M.Ed. from The University of Pennsylvania. She teaches high school English full-time, teaches riding lessons and facilitates educational programs at Black Dog Stables, and has no idea what you mean by the concept of free time.