Whenever I coach a new group of riders at a clinic or in a lesson, I am always surprised at how few people can tell me the five different rein aids and the purpose of each. Therefore, it is always a question I like to throw out to the group. I usually see people looking down and moving their hands around, some vague stares, and the occasional rider being able to describe at least one or two of the five.

Canada is a massive country, with large distances between equine competitions and a relatively small number of upper-level equestrians. Hence, Canadian riders who want to be competitive at upper levels struggle to find enough higher-level competitions to advance their riding careers. Canada also has winter weather that precludes many riders from training outside for half the year. This can limit advancement and horse fitness. For example, three-day event riders can’t school cross-country jumps or get their gallop training in when fields are drifted with snow, nor can endurance riders do long rides on varied terrain.

While it might often be spoken about in artistic, aesthetic, or even philosophical ways, lightness — both of movement and also of communication with horses — is more than an abstract ideal. In many ways, it measures a horse’s current physiological capabilities.

Visiting a Western art museum recently, I was captivated by the Russell and Remington paintings of horses and riders. The harsh realities of cowboy life were portrayed by hard riding and bronco busting. Horses in action — vehicles of transportation and battle — seemed a sharp contrast to horses in our modern Western cultures as companions or partners in sport. Though enchanted by the artistry, I was unsettled by the common denominator in every painting — every rider hauling on the reins; every horse a picture of mouth-gaping tension.