Riding is a lot like writing. Everybody has seen enough of it in films and television or even in real life to think it must be pretty easy and anybody can do it. There’s also a general vocabulary that gets thrown around, a collection of words that are known to apply to the concept, so everybody must know what they mean. Right?
Well, not always. The great collective semiconscious knows what bit, rein, saddle, and spur mean. They know the end that bites is in front (with bit in it) and the end that kicks is in the back, and you sit in the middle. What exactly you do there is a little bit foggy.
In an earlier blog I mentioned the rider who knees the horse in the flank, from the saddle, to make him go. Other frequent errors include:
- Floating up into the saddle of the impossibly enormous fantasy horse. This is especially prevalent when the character in question is a child or a young adult.
- Shaking the reins to make the horse go.
- Yelling “Hyah!”, ditto (most often seen on film).
- Flapping the elbows as the horse gallops, on the apparent principle that it helps him achieve escape velocity.
- Talking about jog when you mean lope, and gallop when you mean canter, and generally mixing up the gaits.
There are numerous other popular errors, but let’s concentrate on these for today. We will also assume that the horse has been groomed, saddled, and bridled before the scene begins. That exact process is a bit more arcane and less frequently described in fiction, and will serve as a subject for another blog.
Your character approaches the horse in character-appropriate fashion. A horse person will get to know the horse for a few seconds: look him over, make sure he has no obvious ailments or injuries, stroke his neck or (lightly) his head to say hello, check out his tack. He’ll make sure the bridle is properly adjusted (all buckles fastened, bit properly fitted and adjusted), and be especially careful to check the girth (or with a Western saddle the cinch–same thing, different name) to make sure it’s snug. If it’s not, he’ll tighten it.
Sidebar: Your fantasy character riding a la Gandalf, i.e. sans tack, will not do the tack check. However if she’s riding like that, beware of looking like a Fantasy Mary Sue. She’d better have a really good reason to be riding a naked horse, and be one hell of a rider. Also, she should not leap aboard the Wild Stallion in this condition. She’ll go splat and probably get trampled to a bloody pulp. If you’re not an expert on horses and riding, go for the safe and unobtrusive route: saddle, bridle, common or garden variety horse.
Your rider will mount in one of several ways.
- In a culture in which stirrups are not extant (which is anything before about AD 500, or based thereon), she will spring aboard from the ground. She may use a rock, a fallen tree, etc., especially if she is not an experienced or athletic rider. She may get a leg up from a groom, servant, or fellow traveler. This means either the helper gets a grip on her shin and knee and boosts her up, or she puts her foot in his linked hands and uses them for a step (or, also, gets a boost).
- These techniques can be used where there are stirrups, too. The leg-up method is especially apt if the rider is a lady and/or if the horse is tall enough to make getting a foot into the stirrup an athletic exercise. That 20-hand fantasy monster? He’s 80 inches at the withers. Do the math. Here is a horse who is 16.1 hands (65 inches) with a five-foot-three-inch rider. The stirrup, when the rider is on the ground, is about level with her breastbone. Admittedly this is a massively built horse in the old Baroque mode, with a deep barrel and relatively short legs, but she is plenty tall.Big horse is Big. 20 hands is over the top even in our age of Giant Riding Elephants. A much more common and sensible definition of big is 17 hands (a hand, as may be clear by now, is 4 inches). That’s still plenty big for fantasy-government work.
- If the rider is mounting from the ground and has stirrups available, the method is to run up the reins in one hand–here in the US we mount usually on the left, and this was common in societies in which the sword was carried on the right hip. Other cultures might mount on the right, or from whichever side was most convenient. (Note: A horse who is handled in only one way or from only one direction becomes habituated and may react negatively to being approached from any other direction. If he’s always mounted from the left, an attempt to mount from the right might result in the horse shying, spinning, and/or tossing the would-be rider.) For a left mount, gather the reins in the left hand at the base of the mane, insert left foot in stirrup, assist with right hand on back end of saddle, bounce up off right foot, get right arm out of the way, swing right leg over horse’s back, settle into saddle. Reverse for a right mount. Done right, this is very graceful and the rider will land lightly. Done wrong or by a heavy, injured, or inexperienced rider, any number of consequences may ensue. Saddle may roll and dump rider halfway up, horse may swing around or scoot, horse may spook and bolt and leave rider in the dust, rider may overshoot and go flying off the other side…the possibilities are numerous.
- If the rider is a lady and the saddle is a sidesaddle, she will get a leg up, swing her right leg over the horse’s back, and bring it around to hook into the horns of the sidesaddle. This you should research, to see what it looks like and how a rider sits in it. She will, be it noted, use a long whip on the right side, as a substitute for the missing leg. Sidesaddle is much harder than riding astride, and takes a lot more guts and balance.
Now you’re on the horse, what next? Shaking the reins won’t do much. That seems to be an extrapolation from driving, where you may indeed activate the horse this way–what you’re doing is slapping his butt and cuing him to move. That won’t work if you’re in the middle and the reins are just touching his neck.
What you do depends on the milieu and the conventions of training horses. Some horses are trained to auditory cues–click of the tongue, relevant word, etc. Much more common and practical is the use of the leg. In simplest terms, a kick makes him move. Kick harder, he goes faster. An accomplished rider will be much more subtle, of course: tighten the calf or move the lower leg slightly back. Or if he’s really good, he’ll do it by shifting his weight very slightly. This will be invisible to the casual observer, and look appropriately impressive, especially if he’s doing this to change speeds in rapid succession, and throwing in turns, spins, and sideways maneuvers.
There’s your accelerator. You also need steering and brakes. Keeping it simple again, for those things you use the reins. An English or European rider will turn by pulling a rein in the direction she wants to turn. A Western rider will “neckrein,” or lay the opposite rein against the neck and aim the hand in the direction of the turn. Both styles stop by pulling the reins. Leg means go. Rein means stop (or turn). Your Master Rider of course will turn up his elegant nose at this and use his weight and the toning of his legs and torso–in short, he’ll stop and turn with his seat (which actually refers to the rider’s body from the neck to the knees). Much prettier, much more invisible, much harder to learn and train. But nice if you can use it.
No Hyah!, you will notice. No flapping the elbows. The rider sits as quietly as possible considering she’s on top of a moving object with a mind of its own, and signals as subtly as she can. She will signal for the following basic gaits:
- Walk. Self-explanatory. Nice, slow, non-threatening. A horse will walk at about 5mph, though a good, strong walker can go faster.
- Trot or jog. Trot for English/European, jog for Western. Jog in the main is slower than a trot, and smoother to ride. An English rider from the 18th century onward may post or rise to the trot. This maneuver was developed by post riders (hence the term), most of whom did a lot of trotting. The trot is a bone-jarring two-beat gait and is very unpleasant to ride unless the horse is exceptionally smooth. Most aren’t. Posting lets you go up and down with the movement, and keeps your teeth from rattling out of your head. A good rider can post anything, with or without saddle or stirrups–it’s done by using your balance and the horse’s movement in synch, not by hopping up and down in the stirrups. A Western rider will sneer at a rider who posts. He will train his horse to jog as smoothly as possible, which removes the rattle-the-teeth problem, though it also eliminates most of the speed of a good, fast trot. The average trot is around 8-10 mph; it can get much faster, especially in driven horses–harness racers race in the trot (and its cousin the pace).
- Canter. A slow, rocking, three-beat gait, supposedly so named because it was the favored gait of pilgrims on their way to Canterbury. This is the most pleasant gait to ride, like sitting in a rocking chair. A Western lope is a slowed-down version of this. It may not necessarily be faster than a trot, though the bounding motion of the gait may cover more ground (and be much smoother to ride). It’s possible to slow the canter down to a near-stop, then send the horse around its back end in a tight circle. This is called the canter pirouette and is a quite advanced maneuver.
- Gallop. Not the same as a canter. Four beats instead of three. This is the top speed of the horse, the one with which he covers the most ground in the least amount of time. Your racehorse or your desperately pursued horse or your urgent messenger’s horse will gallop. A racehorse can gallop up around 30mph; a good gallop for an ordinary horse is in the 15-20mph range. The gallop is fairly easy to sit; the scary part is the speed and the fact that the horse may have shut his brain off and gone into full-on freaked-out-prey mode. Getting him to calm down and slow down can be a challenge.
Now you’ve got some options for your fictional rider, and some accurate details to enrich the story. Your horse-loving readers will thank you, and put you on their list of Writers Who Get It Right.