Balanced Horse Training

06/27/2025

Zebra striped fly sheets soon?

Scientists believe that a function of a zebra’s stripes is to deter insects, so a team of researchers painted black and white stripes on several cows and discovered that it reduced the number of biting flies landing on the cows by more than 50%

06/06/2025

05/31/2025

This is exactly my experience starting with our first horse, a profoundly intelligent, athletic perfectionist with little regard for humans. Then my second horse, a third abandoned horse, a fourth I realized thought he’d be my partner and disappointed him by letting others ride him. I succeeded finally by finding our first horse a herd of eight. Some were client’s horses, some lesson/lease horses for students. That’s when the real learning began and it was incredibly powerful. The learning of the horse. I loved and still love riding and helping a horse find pleasure in his/her balance, fluidity, thoroughness and lightness. But it’s never quite as powerful for me when it’s about “making” without that “knowing”.

No Guru. No Gimmicks. Just Layers.

Over the years, I’ve gone from riding horses to unravelling them—layer by layer, like a dirt-covered onion with opinions 🧅🐴. What began as a casual hobby quickly spiralled into a full-blown forensic investigation of everything from behaviour to biomechanics to herd dynamics, with the occasional brief holidays in Overthinkingville (population: me) 🧠⛺. Apparently, once you start paying attention to horses, they return the favour by showing you everything you didn’t know you didn’t know. It’s both magical ✨ and mildly humiliating.

I began, as most do, with the Standard Model of Horsemanship: lead, ride, rug, feed, repeat 🔁. If a horse was “tricky,” there was always a solution—get lessons, bigger bit, fancier gear, lunge them into submission. We called it “training.” I thought that’s how it was done, mostly because that’s what everyone else was doing while nodding confidently 🙄.

Then a horse came along who didn’t just refuse to play along—he tore up the script, lit it on fire, and handed me the ashes 🔥📝. And that’s when the real learning began.

I discovered that horses actually learn things 🤯. Not just learn about things—but learn through things. Wild, right? I’d spent years doing stuff to them, and now I had to figure out how to do stuff with them. I got curious. I got better. I started spotting gaps in their understanding and learned how to build bridges instead of battlegrounds 🌉. I even built a business out of it. Turns out, I’m quite good at helping confused horses make sense of our nonsense.

But then came the mare.

The one who couldn’t learn that she’d be okay. Not just whether she could do the thing—but whether she could cope doing it 💥. Confidence, I learned, isn’t a side-effect of click-and-reward or a byproduct of pressure-release. It’s a whole internal ecosystem. And when that ecosystem is out of balance, no amount of cheerleading or technique will stick. In her case, the cause? Pain. Subtle, sneaky, unseeable. Her body couldn’t do what her brain knew it should, and her failure to gain confidence was the only breadcrumb she left behind 🧩.

By this stage I thought I’d reached the summit 🏔️. Turns out, I was still at base camp, holding a stick and calling it a compass.

And just when I’d stabilised that paradigm shift with a cup of tea and some deep breathing—enter wild horses 🐎🌾.

No saddles. No stables. No five-step plan to connection. Just horses being… horses. Grazing, breathing, moving as one—wired by nature, not rebranded by humans 🌿. And it hit me square in the prefrontal cortex: I’d spent years working with horses without ever really meeting the horse (note: Thank you to Kerry M Thomas ❤ )

It was like discovering your housemate of 20 years has a secret identity, and you never thought to ask what they do on weekends 🕵️‍♀️. I’d helped horses cope with the lives we gave them—but I never stopped to ask what life they were meant for.

I thought I understood “herd dynamics.” I could talk about alpha mares and hierarchy and "herd bosses" with the best of them—which is to say, confidently and inaccurately 😬. Turns out, a lot of what we call “natural” is just domesticated dysfunction and that's the only horse behaviour we are exposed to so we "think" it is normal 😵‍💫.

But these wild horses? They were functional. Their instincts were firing like a well-tuned alarm system 🚨. They were dialled in, not spaced out. When I energetically projected my desire to be their friend and guardian and emotional support human, they said, “No thanks. This is our family. This is our life. We already have a system. You are… not part of it.”❌ (True story 😆)

And just like that, the domesticated horse looked different to me 👀. I saw how captivity doesn’t break their instincts—it triggers them. Their brilliance becomes their burden. Because when flight is your superpower, suburbia is a psychological maze full of plastic bags, squeaky gates, and people who believe “groundwork” means walking in a circle until your soul leaves your body 🔄🫠.

But here’s the twist: those same instincts that make horses reactive also make them remarkably adaptive 🧠⚡. Nature didn’t just give them alertness—it gave them learning. Which means the problem isn’t their wiring. It’s whether we honour it.

And just when I thought I had reached a nice, balanced place with all this—along came Tami Elkayam Equine Bodywork.

While I decode behaviour and external expression, Tami dives into the deep tissues and anatomy of the horse and speaks fluent fascia 💬🧬. Where I build communication through behaviour, she builds it through biology. She taught me that tissue talks—and your touch can either soothe it or send it into full-blown DEFCON 1 🚫🖐️. She showed me how to read the horse’s movement, even when they aren’t moving, and how my own sensory system could be trained to listen like fingertips reading braille. [Note: I will admit here that this did involve a lot of Tami putting my hands on horses and asking me if I “Can you feel that?”. And me saying “I think so” while secretly panicking because I felt nothing before finally I felt enough tissue to feel something 😂].

She taught me that every single thing we do—the feed, the feet, the tack, the terrain, the exercise, the thoughts we had at breakfast—all of it feeds into the horse’s nervous system 🔄🧠. It’s a full-body conversation, 24/7, and you’re participating whether you mean to or not.

Tami also reminded me that every time I teach a horse something, I’m asking them to do something nature didn't necessarily create them to do. And that comes with risk. My job isn’t just to teach—it’s to protect the process 🛡️. To recognise when I need to back off, modify, or support. Because safety isn’t just a concept—it’s something a horse feels.

Now, I know some of you might feel overwhelmed by all this. You might think I feel overwhelmed by all this.

I don’t.

Because when you stop needing to know everything, the not-knowing becomes wonder instead of worry ✨. I don’t feel lost—I feel bloody lucky. Lucky to be learning. Lucky to be part of the conversation. Lucky to still be here, peeling back layers with muddy boots and an open mind 🥾🧠.

So yes—I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep listening. I’ll keep calling out red herrings, rabbit holes, and rebranded fairytales that promise magic and deliver mediocrity 🎭. I’ve been blessed by the horses I’ve met, the people I’ve learned from, and the lessons that hit me like a sack of feed when I least expected it 🪣💥.

And I’ll keep sharing it all. The good ideas, the bad ones, and the ones that just need a firm tap with the “this could be better” stick 🔨.

Because the horse deserves better. And we can do better 💛.

And now, a few closing notes for the back row philosophers, bored scrollers, and Facebook comment warriors:
👉 If this resonated, hit the share button. Thoughtful horsemanship isn’t built on silence and side-eyes. It’s built on brave conversations and brains that like a bit of friction 🧠💬.

🚫 Please don’t copy and paste this and pretend it’s yours. I wrote this. With my brain. And my time. Plagiarising me is not the flex you think it is 🚷🖊️.

🙃 I discuss ideas, not people. So if you’re reading this and thinking “Is this about me?”—take a breath. Probably not. But if it feels uncomfortably close to home… well, I’m not a psychic, but I’d take that as a gentle cosmic nudge ✨🫣.

📍 And if you think we shouldn’t critique ideas because they’re linked to people—pull out a map. If you don’t live in North Korea, you are not banned from having public discussions. This is not a gulag. It’s a conversation. Welcome to democracy 🗺️🗣️.

🎻 And finally, to the tone police:

✔️ Yes, I make you think.
✔️ Yes, I’m cheeky.
✔️ Yes, I know my stuff.
❌ No, I’m not writing for everyone.

I’m writing for people who want to do better by their horses and enjoy a laugh along the way 🐎😂. If that’s not you, that’s okay. Scroll on. There’s an entire internet full of other stuff for you to enjoy 🎶🌈.

I’m not your guru. I’m the person who makes you drag your favourite ideas out onto the porch and give them a good whack with a cricket bat 🏏. (Hat tip to Tim Minchin.)

Now go forth—and get curious about your horse. 🐴💡

IMAGE📸: Wild horses in Kosciusko Natural Park rejecting my subliminal messages for me to be their friend. They didn't want a human, they strongly preferred the world they had evolved to thrive in ❤

fans

05/27/2025

Stalls available:

Balanced Horse Training is a non-competitive, privately-owned pleasure barn dedicated to facilitating top quality care for horses and peace of mind for owners, whether in training, lay-up or retirement. Our spacious, private, full-service, 16-stall facility opened in Fall 2022 in the Burlington/Sycamore area, an easy drive from DeKalb, Marengo, St. Charles & Geneva.

• 12’x12’ and 12’x14’ fully matted stalls
• Stalls cleaned 2x/day and bedded deeply for maximum comfort
• Each stall has an attached 24’ limestone runout, 10’ lean-to for shade protection, dutch doors with windows, closed circuit 3-speed fans with individual control, heated water buckets in winter
• Runouts are kept open 24/7 three seasons of the year, and in winter so long as it’s above 40° so that they can enjoy as much fresh air and movement as possible, giving horses a 36’ stall for most of the year and time to socialize with neighbors
• Horses are fed quality homegrown hay 24/7 from hay nets in their stall and runout
• Grain fed 2x/day; Hygain Zero (low NSC grain), Tribute Wholesome Blends Senior, and Coolstance Mash available
• Well maintained grass pastures for group or individual turnout
• 2 oversized grooming stalls, 1 oversized hot/cold wash stall
• Temperature-controlled tack room and bathroom
• 60’x150’ fully insulated indoor arena—temperature has never dropped below 35° in winter. Arena also has 6 large slider windows for breezy summer riding
• Owner lives on site and is a certified equine bodyworker

Our approach is Classical, based on the individual horse’s needs, focused on building a trusting, sound, willing and fun partnership. Full service includes blanket changes, fly masks, owner provided supplements fed at no additional charge.

Please PM for more info.

05/22/2025

This so well written and manages to explain the suspension of living and interacting within the definition and expectation of what we understand as humanity. It is absolutely not something that can be easily taught or make money or even appeal to most as that suspension is like a meditation guided by the horse in front of one. We have no control or agency other than to be open and receive whats offered if we learn to see.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A HORSE WHISPERER. There never has been and never will be. The idea is an affront to the horse. You can talk and listen to horses all you want, and what you will learn, if you pay close attention, is that they live on open ground way beyond language and that language, no matter how you characterize it, is a poor trope for what horses understand about themselves and about humans. You need to practice only three things, patience, observation and humility, all of which were summed up in the life of an old man who died Tuesday (July 20, 1999) in California, a man named Bill Dorrance.

Dorrance was 93, and until only a few months before his death he still rode and he still roped. He was one of a handful of men, including his brother Tom, who in separate ways have helped redefine relations between the horse and the human. Bill Dorrance saw that subtlety was nearly always a more effective tool than force, but he realized that subtlety was a hard tool to exercise if you believe, as most people do, that you are superior to the horse. There was no dominance in the way Dorrance rode, or in what he taught, only partnership. To the exalted horsemanship of the vaquero -- the Spanish cowboy of 18th-century California -- he brought an exalted humanity, whose highest expression is faith in the willingness of the horse.

There is no codifying what Bill Dorrance knew. Some of it, like how to braid a rawhide lariat, is relatively easy to teach, and some of it, thanks to the individuality of horses and humans, cannot be taught at all, only learned. His legacy is exceedingly complex and, in a sense, self-annulling. It is an internal legacy. The more a horseman says he has learned from Dorrance the less likely he is to have learned anything at all.

That sounds oblique, but it reflects the fact that what you could learn from Dorrance was a manner of learning whose subject was nominally the horse but that extended itself in surprising directions to include dogs, cattle and people. If you learned it, you would know it was nothing to boast about.

There is no mysticism, no magic, in this, only the recognition of kinship with horses. Plenty of people have come across Bill Dorrance and borrowed an insight or two, and some have made a lot of money by popularizing what they seemed to think he knew. But what he knew will never be popular, nor did he ever make much money from it. You cannot sell modesty or undying curiosity. It is hard to put a price on accepting that everything you think you know about horses may change with the very next horse.

From an article by Verlyn Klinkenborg 'Death of a Legendary Horseman' - NY Times July 24, 1999 - http://www.nytimes.com/1999/07/24/opinion/editorial-notebook-death-of-a-legendary-horseman.html

Image of Bill is by Steven and Leslie Dorrance - http://www.billdorrance.com/about.htm

05/21/2025

Jen and I do rebounding techniques with the horses in our barn to encourage, among several benefits, deep breathing and healthier horses. Often horses come to us with flight or fight experiences that cause them to breathe more shallow. Perhaps they’re mirroring their humans. Rebounding is quite easy to do. Ask us how.

Breathe Deep, Drain Deep: Why Your Diaphragm is the Unsung Hero of the Lymphatic System 🌿

Did you know that your diaphragm — that dome-shaped muscle under your lungs — is not just for breathing, but is also one of your lymphatic system’s best friends?

Yes, your breath can do more than keep you alive. It can drain your lymph 💧, detox your body 🧽, and boost your immunity 🛡️… all while you’re just chilling and breathing.

Let’s dive into the magic of diaphragmatic breathing and its superpower status in lymphatic health.

Why is the Diaphragm Important for the Lymphatic System?

Your lymphatic system doesn’t have a heart to pump it — so it relies on movement, muscle contractions, and pressure changes to keep things flowing. 🚶‍♀️🌀

Enter: the diaphragm.

Every time you take a deep breath in and your diaphragm contracts downward, it creates a negative pressure in your thoracic cavity 🫁. This acts like a pump, pulling lymph upward from the abdominal area (where a LOT of lymph collects) into the thoracic duct — the body’s main lymph drainage highway 🛣️.

Think of it like squeezing toothpaste from the bottom of the tube. Every deep breath gives the lymph a little push to keep it moving out of the body 🧴➡️🚽.

What Happens if You Don’t Breathe Deeply?

When we stay stuck in shallow breathing (hello stress and desk jobs) 😩💻, the diaphragm barely moves, and lymph flow becomes sluggish 🐌. This can lead to:
• Fluid retention 💦
• Slower detox ♻️
• Weakened immunity 🛑
• Fatigue 💤
• Bloating and digestive issues 🫃

So yes — not breathing right can literally clog your system.

How to Do Diaphragmatic Breathing (Lymphatic Style)
1. Find your position: Lie on your back or sit comfortably with one hand on your chest and the other on your belly 🛋️✋.
2. Inhale through your nose: Feel your belly expand — like a balloon 🎈— while your chest stays still.
3. Exhale slowly through your mouth: Gently contract your belly to push the air out 🌬️.
4. Repeat for 5–10 minutes, at least twice a day ⏰.

Bonus points if you do this after a lymphatic massage, dry brushing, or during rebounding — because it enhances all those techniques! 🌿

Fun Medical Facts You’ll Love
• The cisterna chyli, your largest lymph reservoir, sits right under the diaphragm. Every deep breath helps “milk” it upward 🥛⬆️.
• Studies show diaphragmatic breathing lowers cortisol (stress hormone) 🧠, which reduces systemic inflammation 🔥.
• Breathwork can increase vagus nerve activation ⚡, which enhances parasympathetic healing and digestive flow 🧘‍♀️.
• Deep breathing helps stimulate peristalsis — the wave-like motion in your intestines — which further assists lymph movement through gut-associated lymphoid tissue (GALT) 🌊🌿.

When and How Often Should You Do It?

Daily! Start with 5–10 minutes morning and night, and add a few breaths throughout the day — especially when stressed, inflamed, or feeling “puffy” 🌬️🌅🌃.

In our clinic, we suggest pairing it with:
• Dry brushing 🧽
• Infrared sauna ♨️
• Manual Lymph Drainage Therapy 🤲
• Gentle yoga or stretching 🧘

Inhale Healing, Exhale Stagnation

So next time someone says “just breathe,” know that it’s not just a calming tip — it’s a scientific way to detox your body and power up your immune system ⚡🧬.

And best of all?
It’s free. It’s easy. It’s within you — literally 💗.

Now take a deep breath, Lymphie — and let your healing begin. ✨

Written by:
Bianca Botha, CLT, RLD & MLDT
Lymphatica – Lymphatic Therapy & Body Detox Facility

Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always consult your healthcare provider before making changes to your diet, exercise, or health regimen.

©️

04/11/2025

FEARING THE EMOTIONS OF THE HORSE
(Or: “He’s Just So Sensitive”—Says the Human Who Can’t Cope With Emotions, Theirs or His)

Look at this horse.
Go on.
Soak it in.

Majestic.
Explosive.
A four-legged emotional TED Talk 🎤🐎

Head high.
Eyes wide.
Nostrils flaring like twin cannons of “I’M NOT OKAY.” 🔥

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
At least… until you're holding the lead rope.
Then it’s suddenly less “freedom of expression” and more
“I didn’t sign up to die in trackpants near the float.” 😬

You see, humans say they love horses.
And we do.
We love the idea of horses.
The curated, emotionally-muted, Instagram-filtered kind.
The kind with a heart-shaped star and a head tilt that whispers,
"I’m here to heal you, Karen." ✨

But real horses have the audacity to feel things.
In real time.
Loudly.
And physically.

And that’s when we panic.

Because it turns out most of us don’t fear horses—
We fear our horse having emotions near us 😱

Which is awkward.
Because horses are horses, not yoga instructors.
They don’t sit in stillness and “breathe through their concerns.”
They bolt.
They snort.
They express.
They react with their whole body, which feels less poetic when you’re standing next to a ballistic missile on hooves 💣

And we then label them “sensitive.”
As if it’s a personality flaw.
As if the goal is to transform a thousand pounds of flight animal
into a scented candle 🕯️

Now here’s where it gets delightfully ironic:

We call ourselves empathetic.
“Oh, I’m just so in tune with my horse’s feelings,”
we say, right before we try to crush those feelings
under a giant weighted blanket of avoidance 🛑

We say we don’t want to “trigger” the horse.
Which really means we don’t want to deal with the horse being triggered.
Because when they feel big feelings, we feel big feelings,
and suddenly we’re both spiralling like a bad date at a vegan cooking class—after admitting you love steak 🥩

So we try to switch off the horse.
With gadgets.
With groundwork.
With supplements.
With a small army of professionals who say things like,
“He needs to feel seen to be connected,”
or
“He’s remembering trauma from when he was a foal and it rained once.” ☔

We spend years diagnosing the horse
like an undergrad psych student at a family reunion 🧠

We treat their fear like a bug in the system—
Instead of what it is:
the system working as designed.

And when they do get emotional—
When they tell us clearly and honestly that they’re confused, or scared, or uncertain—
we get annoyed.

“Stop it.”
“Settle down.”
“Don’t be silly.”
The equine equivalent of telling your sobbing friend to “calm down” while handing them a chamomile tea and walking away slowly 🫖

But here's the twist in the comedy:
It’s the fear in us—of their emotions—that creates most of the chaos.
Our flinching, our overcorrection,
our nervous energy humming like a power line in a thunderstorm ⚡
that turns a horse’s flicker of doubt into a full-blown existential meltdown.

There’s a saying—
Fear is the mother of the event,
and humans? We’re excellent midwives 👶💥

So, what actually fixes this?

Not detachment.
Not sedation.
Not pretending your horse is a misunderstood therapist with hooves and childhood trauma 🛋️🐴

What fixes this is competence.
Skill.
The quiet confidence that comes from knowing what to do when your horse feels something.

You stop fearing their emotions when you know you can help them through it.

Because fear loses its teeth when you know what you’re doing.
When you can hold space and lead the way.
When you’ve got the tools to say,
“Hey buddy, I see you—and I’ve got you.” 🧰

That’s when you stop white-knuckling the halter clip like it’s a hand gr***de.
That’s when their snort becomes information, not a trigger for a hypertensive crisis.
And that’s when both of you can start breathing again.

To work with horses is not to remove emotion,
but to recognise it.
Respond to it.
And respect it 🙏

You don’t need to turn your horse into the Dalai Lama with a forelock.
You just need to stop acting like their emotions are a breach of contract.

Because when your horse reacts, they’re not being difficult.
They’re not being disrespectful.
They’re not trying to ruin your day or your carefully choreographed liberty session 🎬

They’re giving you feedback.
And if you actually want to be empathetic—
Real, adult empathy,
not “I bought a rose quartz necklace from a saddle shop” empathy 💎
then you’ve got to let them feel.

Otherwise, you don’t have a relationship.
You have a hostage situation.

So, next time your horse gets a little “emotional”...
Take a breath.
Loosen the reins.
And stop trying to spiritually euthanise them into calmness.

Because that’s not a horse.
That’s a malfunctioning lawn ornament 🌱

And you, my friend, didn’t get into this for lawn ornaments.

You got into this for truth.
And movement.
And connection 🐎❤️

And horses, with all their feelings, give you all of it.
No charge.
No filter.
No apologies.

And if you can stop fearing that—
If you can build the skills to support it—
That’s when the real magic starts.
Not the fairy kind.
The earned kind.
The grounded, gritty, glorious kind ✨

IMAGE📸: Incredible photography by Lynn Jenkin

➡️If this resonated, challenged, or mildly offended you—in a useful way—please share it properly by hitting the share button. Don’t be a content kleptomaniac and copy & paste it to pass it off as your own...that is super uncool😎

04/02/2025

What is the future of horse ownership and boarding in the US? Where do you see you and your horse in the future? Are you an educated owner able and willing to pay for educated, responsible and even comprehensive board and care? Lots to think about.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1174146441164890&id=100057086365128

This is so sad but so true. It's happening all around us. Truely a Labor of love for sure. This is a repost from another group.

The Downfall of the Professional Horse Barn: What It Means for the Future of Horse Sports
By S.S. Johnson,

The equestrian world is changing, and not for the better. In just six hours today, I witnessed the closure of five professional barns—facilities that once provided training, boarding, and lessons to riders of all levels. These were not fly-by-night operations; they were established barns, both English and Western, that had spent years building programs and serving their communities. Yet, despite their fighting dedication, they couldn’t survive the growing storm of economic hardship, difficult clients, rising costs, and overwhelming stress of it all.
This pattern isn’t new, but its acceleration is alarming. The barns that are disappearing aren’t just businesses—they’re the foundation of equestrian sports, responsible for shaping the next generation of riders and horse owners. Their loss isn’t just a blow to individual communities; it’s a looming crisis for the future of the horse industry.
Why Are Professional Barns Closing?
While every barn’s situation is unique, common themes emerge when we examine why so many are shutting down.
1. Financial Strain
Horse care has always been expensive, but today’s costs are reaching unsustainable levels. Hay, grain, bedding, farrier care, vet bills—everything has increased in price, yet lesson and boarding rates haven’t kept pace. Many barns are reluctant to raise prices too high for fear of losing their already dwindling clientele.
On the other hand, many horse owners and lesson riders are tightening their wallets, cutting back on non-essential spending. Unfortunately, for many, that means fewer lessons, delayed training, and skipping out on premium care. With barns unable to charge what they need and clients unwilling (or unable) to pay more, the financial gap is crushing small and mid-sized operations.
2. Poor or Non-Existent Clients
The equestrian world has always had its share of difficult clients, but in today’s economy, barns are dealing with a mix of entitlement, unrealistic expectations, and a general lack of commitment from many riders and boarders.
• Some clients expect premium care for bottom-dollar prices. They demand full-service boarding with quality hay, top-tier footing, and expert management—while paying rates that barely cover basic care.
• Lesson clients frequently cancel last-minute, show up late, or simply stop coming, often without notice. These no-shows cost barns money in lost income and wasted trainer time.
• Many horse owners no longer invest in training or education, leading to poorly handled, unsafe horses that barns are then expected to accommodate.
A barn can’t survive without reliable, respectful clients, and too many have found themselves dealing with the opposite.
3. High Stress and Burnout
The romanticized image of running a barn rarely matches reality. Long hours, physical exhaustion, and emotional tolls are standard. Many professionals in the industry are walking away simply because they can’t take it anymore.
• Barn owners and trainers often work 12- to 16-hour days, seven days a week, with little to no time off.
• Dealing with demanding clients, difficult horses, and non-stop financial pressures takes a serious mental toll.
• With rising costs and shrinking margins, many are questioning if it’s even worth it anymore.
There comes a point where passion isn’t enough to outweigh exhaustion and stress. More and more professionals are choosing to leave before they reach total burnout.
4. Location and Land Issues
Many equestrian businesses are finding themselves squeezed out of their areas due to urban expansion and shifting demographics.
• Land prices and property taxes are skyrocketing, making it nearly impossible for smaller barns to afford staying in business.
• As suburban sprawl pushes further into once-rural areas, neighbors who don’t understand horses are quick to file noise complaints, object to the smell, or push for zoning changes that make it harder to operate a barn.
• Fewer people have easy access to riding facilities, making it harder to attract new students or boarders.
Without land, there are no barns, and with each closure, the available space for horse sports shrinks further.
The Bigger Picture: What This Means for Horse Sports
The barns that are shutting down aren’t just random businesses—they’re the backbone of equestrian sports. These are the lesson barns, the mid-level training facilities, the family-friendly operations that introduce new riders to the horse world.
The problem? These riders are the future.
1. Losing the Next Generation of Equestrians
Upper-level barns cater to a specific type of rider: the elite, well-funded competitor. But not everyone starts out there. Most riders begin in small, affordable programs before progressing to higher levels. When those programs disappear, so does the opportunity for new riders to enter the sport.
Without beginner and mid-level training barns, fewer people will learn to ride. Fewer will move on to become serious competitors. And, eventually, the entire industry will feel the effects.
2. Decline in Horse Ownership
Owning a horse isn’t something most people do on a whim. They start with lessons, lease a horse, then make the jump to ownership. If lesson barns and mid-tier training facilities disappear, fewer people will take that first step, leading to fewer horse owners overall.
A decline in horse ownership means a decline in demand for everything that supports the industry—farriers, veterinarians, tack and feed suppliers, show organizations, and more.
3. The Sport Becomes Even More Elitist
Equestrian sports already suffer from an image of being exclusive and unaffordable. If only high-end barns survive, that image becomes reality. Riding will shift even further toward being a luxury activity for the wealthy, shutting out those without deep pockets.
Without accessible lesson programs and training facilities, the gap between those who can afford the sport and those who can’t will grow wider. And eventually, fewer people will care about preserving or supporting equestrian activities at all.
Where Do We Go from Here?
The future of horse sports depends on finding ways to support small and mid-sized barns before they disappear entirely. Some possible solutions include:
• Adjusting pricing to reflect actual costs – Barn owners need to charge what their services are truly worth, even if it means losing some clients.
• Reworking business models – Offering memberships, partial leases, or other structured payment plans can create more predictable income streams.
• Educating clients – Riders and horse owners need to understand what goes into keeping a barn running. Transparency about costs and expectations can help filter out problematic clients.
• Finding community support – Creating local riding clubs, hosting educational events, and partnering with organizations that promote equestrian access can help keep barns alive.
• Advocating for equestrian spaces – If we want horse sports to survive, we need to fight for zoning protections, affordable land access, and public awareness.
The loss of lesson and boarding barns is not just an industry issue—it’s an existential threat to the future of equestrian sports. If we don’t find ways to support these businesses, the ripple effects will be felt for generations.
For now, though, we watch as more barns close their doors, leaving behind empty arenas, unused stalls, and a sport that is quietly shrinking from the ground up.