Transition Up Horseback riding lessons

08/04/2026

A guide to the smoke issue

As wildfire smoke rolls into Portland-metro this week keep these guidelines in mind for your horses respiratory health. Reach out to our office if you have any specific questions or concerns. Thanks for the infographic!

07/22/2026

Right there!! Thats it!!

The hardest thing to teach in dressage isn’t piaffe. It isn’t flying changes. It isn’t pirouettes.

It’s feel.

People often think becoming a better rider is about learning more movements or riding a higher level. Those things matter, of course, but they’re actually the easy part. I can explain how to ride a shoulder-in, where your legs go for a flying change, or the aids for a half pass.

Feel is different.

Feel is knowing whether the horse is truly in front of your leg or just moving faster.

It’s recognizing the difference between a horse that’s soft because it’s honestly carrying itself and one that’s simply dropped behind the contact.

It’s noticing the instant a horse starts to brace and knowing why… before it becomes a problem.

It’s knowing exactly when to ask for more and, even more importantly, when to leave the horse alone because you’ve already achieved what you were after.

Now, before anyone jumps in, I do think some people are naturally gifted with feel. Just like some people have a natural ear for music or an instinctive athletic ability, there are riders who seem to “get it” almost immediately.

But natural talent is only the starting point.

The rider born with incredible feel still has to refine it. The rider who wasn’t born with as much can absolutely develop it. Time in the saddle, thoughtful instruction, riding a variety of horses, paying attention to every response the horse gives, and constantly asking why all build feel over time.

And here’s the really fascinating part: feel is a moving target.

The feel that allows you to ride a Training Level test well is not the same feel required for Third Level. The feel that gets you through the early FEI levels evolves again at Grand Prix. Every horse teaches you something different. Every challenge sharpens your awareness.

No matter how experienced you become, your feel is never “finished.” It’s something you continue to refine throughout your entire riding career. In many ways, that’s what makes this sport so addictive. There’s always another layer of understanding, another subtle conversation to have with the horse.

A good coach will help you develop feel. They can point out what you missed, explain what the horse is telling you, and help sharpen your timing. But eventually, you also have to learn to recognize those moments for yourself.

The riders with the greatest feel aren’t necessarily the ones riding the fanciest movements. They’re the ones who notice the smallest changes. They appreciate the basics. They ride with curiosity, constantly listening to the horse instead of simply talking at it.

The horse is always giving you feedback.

The question is… are you learning to recognize what they’re saying?

Credit; Janine Little

07/07/2026

Watch this! What a great illustration

07/05/2026

This is so important yet underrated

Most riding programs teach leg pressure, rein contact, and voice. The seat gets a mention here and there such as sit deep, weight the inside stirrup but it is rarely developed as a discrete progressive skill the way the leg and rein are. That gap matters because a horse that is correctly on the aids responds to the seat before the leg and before the rein. The leg and rein are there to support and clarify what the seat has already initiated. A rider without an educated independent seat is a rider who is always working harder than they need to.

The foundational principle worth teaching first and repeating often is this: the horse follows the weight. Always. Horses are extraordinarily sensitive to even the subtlest shift in the rider's center of gravity and they go where that weight directs them whether the rider intended to direct them or not. The rider who habitually collapses the left hip will have a horse that consistently drifts left. The rider who tips forward will produce a horse that loads the forehand. The rider who braces through the lower back will get a horse that tightens through its own back in self defense. None of this is the horse being difficult. The horse is reading and responding to the weight aid and it just happens to be an unintentional one. Teaching riders to use weight deliberately rather than accidentally is one of the most fundamental shifts you can create in their riding.

The inside seat bone is the most accessible entry point for introducing weight aids in a lesson context. On a circle or through a turn the inside seat bone should be marginally more weighted and slightly forward than the outside. Not by collapsing into the hip or over-weighting to the point of crookedness, but by an independent subtle shift that invites the horse to bend around the inside leg and follow the direction of travel. Ask your rider to think about directing their inside hip pocket gently toward the horse's inside ear. A horse that is soft and through will almost always respond to this before the inside rein has said a word. When a rider feels that response for the first time of the horse turning off a weight shift with no meaningful rein then it changes how they think about communication from the saddle permanently.

The halt aid is where the weight aid becomes most undeniable and most transformative for a developing rider. A correctly executed halt does not begin in the hands, it begins in the seat. The rider stills the following motion of their hips, allows the pelvis to become momentarily quiet, exhales, and drops weight through the seat bones into the saddle. The leg stays softly on to keep the hindquarters stepping under rather than trailing out behind. The rein then receives the energy the seat and leg have already redirected - it does not create the halt, it completes it. A rider who learns to halt this way produces a horse that comes back balanced, square, and light. A rider who halts with the hands first produces a horse that braces, hollows, and drags its hind end behind it along with usually head tossing. The difference is entirely in the sequence and it starts with the seat.

The canter depart is another moment where the weight aid plays a critical role that most riders are never explicitly taught. As the inside leg asks for the strike off the outside hip needs to be softly back - not a dramatic rotation of the pelvis, just a subtle positioning that frees the horse's outside hind leg to initiate the canter stride correctly. Riders who consistently get the wrong lead are very often inadvertently blocking it by carrying the outside hip too far forward, closing off the space the outside hind needs to step under and push. Address the outside hip position as part of the canter aid conversation and the accuracy of the depart frequently improves without changing anything else.

Teaching weight aids progressively starts at the halt where there is no movement to manage and the rider can focus entirely on isolating the seat bones independently. Ask your rider to weight one seat bone without changing their leg, their rein, or the position of their torso. Some riders cannot do it cleanly at first and the compensation shows up immediately in the rein or the leg or a tilt through the upper body. Work it until it is genuinely independent before asking for it at the walk, then the trot. Use your most supple and responsive school horse for this work so the feedback is immediate and honest. Use mirrors or video wherever possible because the weight aids are subtle and some riders genuinely cannot feel the difference between doing it correctly and compensating somewhere else until they can see it from the outside.

The rider who has developed independent deliberate weight aids communicates with the horse at a level that leg and rein alone can never reach. The horse becomes lighter, more through, and more genuinely on the aids because the communication is clearer, more consistent, and more in line with how the horse is built to receive it. The rider also becomes quieter and more effective. Not because they are doing more but because they have learned to work with the horse's natural sensitivity rather than around it.

How do you introduce weight aids to your riders?

07/01/2026

Lets keep this in mind

05/24/2026

This !! 💖

There are moments with horses that humble me so quickly that I can almost feel my ego leave my body in real time. I used to think that if my intentions were good, that should somehow count for more. I loved my horses. I wanted them to feel safe. I wanted partnership, softness, harmony. Surely they should recognize that.

But horses do not respond to our intentions. They respond to our behavior, our timing, our posture, our emotional state, our consistency, and the clarity of the patterns we create around them. They respond to what we actually do, not what we mean.

I think this is one of the hardest truths for horse lovers to sit with because most people I meet genuinely love their horses. They are not trying to create fear or confusion or tension. They are trying their best. But love and good intentions do not automatically equal understanding.

I remember this so clearly with Maxi. Years ago, when I was still trying so desperately to prove myself as a capable horsewoman, I spent a lot of time getting frustrated with her because she would become tight and resistant in situations where I thought she should have been more cooperative. I would watch other skilled horsemen ride horses with softness and flow, and then I would try to recreate the same thing with Maxi. Sometimes I could force pieces of it together for a few moments, but it never felt sustainable. It was like trying to hold water in my hands.

At the time, I interpreted a lot of her behavior as stubbornness. I thought she was challenging me. Looking back now, I think Maxi was simply telling the truth more honestly than I wanted to hear it. She did not experience me the way I intended to be experienced.

I might have been thinking, “I’m trying to help you.” But what she felt was inconsistency. Tightness. Ambition. Pressure without enough preparation. Requests that changed depending on my emotions that day. A human who wanted the result more than the conversation.

That realization hurt my feelings for a while. Not because Maxi was wrong, but because I had built part of my identity around being “good” with horses. Horses have a way of exposing the gap between the story we tell ourselves and the experience we are actually creating.

The interesting thing is that Maxi never seemed particularly interested in blaming me for any of it. Horses do not usually waste much time trying to decide who is morally right. They are simply trying to survive, seek comfort, avoid confusion, and discover what works.

Humans are much stranger about these things. We get attached to being correct. We build identities around methods and philosophies and labels. We argue over who is ethical and who is wrong and who has the better system. Meanwhile, the horse is over there quietly asking much simpler questions.

Do I understand you? Do I feel safe with you? Can I find comfort with you? Does this interaction make sense to me?

I think this is why horses have softened me over the years. They have taught me that many conflicts are not acts of rebellion or disrespect. They are misunderstandings. And misunderstandings usually improve much faster when somebody decides to become curious instead of defensive.

Now, when one of my horses becomes tight or worried or resistant, I spend much less time thinking, “Why are you being difficult?” and much more time asking, “What part of this conversation is unclear?” That shift changed nearly everything for me.

It made me more reflective. More adaptable. More willing to slow down and examine the tiny details of my body language, breathing, timing, and emotional steadiness. It made me realize that all horse owners are training their horses all the time, whether they mean to or not. Every interaction teaches something. Every repetition builds an association. Every emotional reaction becomes part of the conversation.

And this is often why people struggle when they buy a horse from an exceptionally skilled trainer. The horse is not just responding to cues. The horse is responding to years of refined timing, emotional control, subtle posture shifts, consistency, feel, and understanding. Skilled trainers often communicate in ways that look almost invisible because they have spent thousands of hours refining themselves.

Then the horse goes home with someone who deeply loves them but does not yet have the same awareness or skill. Suddenly the horse seems different. Confused. Resistant. Dull. Reactive. But often the horse is not “bad.” The conversation has simply changed dramatically.

I think this is why self-reflection matters so much in horsemanship. Not shame. Not guilt. Reflection. There is a big difference. Shame tends to shut learning down. Reflection opens doors. One says, “I am failing.” The other says, “Something in this interaction is not working yet.” That little word “yet” has saved me many times.

Because the beautiful thing about horses is that they are usually incredibly willing to meet us halfway if we become worthy conversation partners. If we can help them understand us clearly, and if being with us feels mentally, emotionally, and physically good, horses tend to become astonishingly generous.

Some of the most satisfying moments of my life have not come from accomplishing impressive tasks. They have come from those quiet moments where a horse softens underneath me, exhales, and chooses to stay connected because the interaction itself has become worthwhile. Those moments feel less like control and more like mutual understanding.

And honestly, I think that is what I was searching for all along, even back when I was too inexperienced to realize it. I am so thankful we had Linda to help us figure things out!

Coach Kristi

05/08/2026

Setting up poles today 💪💪💪

A recent study from the University of Tennessee provided strong support for something trainers, movement specialists, and bodyworkers have observed for years:

Ground poles significantly increase activation of important postural and core muscles in horses.

What the Study Found

Walking over ground poles increased activity in:

• Longissimus dorsi — a major topline and spinal support muscle
• Abdominal muscles — critical for core stability and support of the spine

Even at the walk, poles require the horse to:

• Lift the limbs higher
• Stabilize the trunk more actively
• Organize posture and balance with greater precision
• Continuously adjust limb placement and timing

At the trot, researchers also found increased activation of the abdominal muscles.

Trotting over poles requires greater dynamic stabilization, and the increased limb elevation demands more coordinated control of the trunk, pelvis, and spine.

What This Means

These findings support the long-standing use of cavaletti and ground poles as a low-impact way to:

• Strengthen the topline
• Improve abdominal engagement
• Support spinal stability
• Enhance proprioception and coordination
• Encourage improved posture and self-carriage
• Develop better movement organization through the whole body

One of the most important aspects of pole work is that it influences both sides of the postural system:

• The dorsal chain — including the longissimus muscles along the back
• The ventral chain — including the abdominal support system

This balance is essential for efficient movement, force transfer, and development of a healthy, functional topline.

But pole work is not only muscular.

It is neurological.

Each pole creates a movement problem the horse must solve in real time.

The horse has to:

• Judge distance
• Adjust stride length
• Control timing
• Stabilize the trunk
• Organize the limbs in space
• Adapt moment-to-moment to changing demands

That process requires attention, coordination, body awareness, and ongoing nervous system regulation.

In many horses, poles appear to improve focus not simply because the horse is “behaving,” but because the nervous system is becoming more engaged and organized around the task.

Pole work may also influence neurological tone — the background level of muscular and nervous system readiness that affects posture, movement quality, stiffness, and coordination.

For some horses, this can help reduce excessive bracing and improve adaptability through the body.
For others, it can help improve postural engagement and overall organization.

Why It Matters

Regular pole work can benefit many types of horses:

• Young horses developing coordination and posture
• Performance horses improving strength, agility, movement quality, and limb awareness
• Horses rebuilding core control and stability after periods of weakness or reduced work
• Older horses maintaining mobility, coordination, and movement confidence

Importantly, many of these benefits occur even at the walk, making poles accessible to horses across a wide range of ages, disciplines, and fitness levels.

Rather than simply “making horses pick up their feet,” poles appear to challenge the nervous system, postural system, sensory system, and muscular system together — encouraging the horse to organize movement with greater control, awareness, and adaptability.

https://koperequine.com/step-by-step-the-benefits-of-walk-poles-for-horses/

05/01/2026

This is IT!!!!!!! 👌

There is something about horses that deserves to be said plainly, especially in a space like this where we are all trying to do right by them. Horses are inherently dangerous, not because they are bad, but because they are large, fast, and wired for survival in a way that can override everything else in a moment. Even a kind, well-educated horse can react in a way that puts us at risk if something feels unclear, uncomfortable, or unsafe to them.

Most of us try to manage that reality with the things we can control. We invest in good tack, we pay attention to footing, we wear helmets, and we make thoughtful decisions about where and when we ride. Those are all responsible choices, and they matter. Over time, though, I have come to believe that the most meaningful layer of safety does not come from what we put on ourselves or our horses. It comes from the quality of the relationship and the clarity of the communication we build with them.

Kaya has been my greatest teacher in this. She is a thoughtful mare who has always made it clear that her sense of peace is not something I can take for granted, especially under saddle. On the ground, she can feel steady and connected, but when I add the responsibility of riding, even small gaps in understanding or confidence can surface. Earlier in my journey, I might have tried to push through that. I might have told myself she just needed more exposure or that I needed to be more determined. I might have leaned on effort instead of awareness, focusing on getting the ride done instead of asking whether we were truly prepared for it.

Now, at 51, I see that approach differently. These days, I am much more interested in whether we are genuinely ready before I ever consider getting on. For me, that preparation comes down to three foundational qualities: connection, relaxation, and responsiveness, the Chore Behaviors of the How To Talk Horse program. If I do not have her attention in a meaningful way, then I do not really have her with me. If she is holding tension in her body or her mind, then whatever we do is sitting on a fragile foundation. If her responses feel delayed, resistant, or disconnected, then we are not having a clear conversation, and that matters more to me than completing any particular task.

Kaya has helped me become honest about that standard. There have been many days where the plan was to ride, and I chose not to, not because anything dramatic happened, but because something subtle felt off. Sometimes her focus drifts more than usual, or her body feels a little tight, or I notice that I have to work just a bit harder than I want to for a simple response. Those moments used to feel easy to overlook, especially when I was attached to the idea of riding, but now I treat them as valuable information that helps me make better decisions.

When I stay on the ground and take the time to work through those pieces, something shifts in a way that feels both physical and emotional. Her breathing changes, her body softens, and her attention becomes more intentional. Her responses begin to feel thoughtful rather than reactive, and there is a sense that she is participating in the interaction instead of simply managing it. That is the feeling I am looking for, and it has become far more important to me than whether I get on and ride.

Even when things begin to feel good, I no longer measure success by the act of riding. I pay much more attention to whether we can maintain connection, relaxation, and responsiveness together as the interaction evolves. I want to know if we can stay connected when something changes, if she can remain relaxed as I ask for a little more, and if her responsiveness continues to feel like a conversation rather than compliance. Those questions have reshaped how I think about safety in a very practical way.

I consider myself an average rider, and I mean that in an honest and grounded sense. I am not especially brave, and I am not especially athletic. Even if I were, I do not believe that relying on those traits is a good safety plan. Managing a situation after it begins to unravel is far less effective than preparing in a way that helps prevent it from unraveling in the first place. Kaya has required me to be more patient, more observant, and more willing to adjust my plans than I once was, and she has shown me that her willingness is directly tied to how well I prepare her and how carefully I listen.

When I get that right, the experience changes in a noticeable way. The ride feels like a natural extension of the conversation we already built on the ground, and there is a steadiness to it that makes everything feel simpler and more connected. When I get it wrong, that becomes clear as well, and that clarity has become one of the most valuable parts of my horsemanship because it gives me the opportunity to make better choices next time.

Safety, for me, is no longer about trying to eliminate risk, because that is not possible with horses. It is about reducing unnecessary risk by paying attention to the smallest signs before they become bigger ones, valuing the quality of the interaction over the completion of the task, and being willing to pause, step back, or change direction when something does not feel quite right. Connection, relaxation, and responsiveness are not optional ideals in that process; they are the foundation that everything else is built on, and Kaya continues to remind me of that every day. Linda’s Everyday Warmup gives us a clear guideline on how to do that!

When I honor those qualities, she meets me with thoughtfulness and willingness. When I overlook them, she lets me know just as clearly, and that kind of honesty is something I have learned to trust. In a world where there are no guarantees, that trust, built through careful preparation and a shared conversation, is the closest thing to safety I know how to create.



Coach Kristi

04/28/2026

Here we are, ready to roll. This has been a long long journey. Trailering has been a very scary memory for this young chap. And we took our time 💚✈️💚

04/26/2026

Angel is still available. Take a lookie

For In barn Lease: young thoroughbred mare, sweet and very kind. Angel thrives in dressage, maybe even some jumping in her future
Angel is 15.2, 6 years old and well versed in groundwork and is perfectly mannered, standing to be groomed and bathed.
We have an all weather arena and instructor on site. Lesson fee includes one private lesson per week to a total of 3 rides a week (best way to experience horse ownership without the financial burden ).
Located in Covington