Buck Brannaman Clinic 101

Sorry for the lack of posting this week. I was at the Buck Brannaman clinic this past Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday (as an auditor, all of the riding spots were taken months ago) and wanted to give it all a chance to sink in before I attempted to write about my experience. I did not choose to go to the clinic. My employer, an avid natural horsemanship person (rider? lover? believer? I don’t know how you would classify that) more or less forced me to go. Boy, am I glad she did.

The first thing that impressed me was the facility itself. Seven Springs Farm is located in New Jersey amidst sprawling fields and other breathtaking barns. When you walk in to the barn you walk underneath an enormous deer antler chandelier - my first clue this wasn’t your average run of the mill boarding facility. There was beautiful wood paneling everywhere (on the walls, on the ceilings, all around the indoor) and the aisles had to be twenty feet wide with rubber built into the floor itself and brick on the side. The clinic took place in the indoor arena which was bright and airy with an excellent speaker system. I could hear every word Buck said from almost anywhere in the barn, which was really nice. By the time I arrived (twenty minutes past 9AM) the four sets of bleachers were packed and it was standing room only for the auditors. I managed to squirm in towards the rail and had to duck down so as not to block anyone with my 5’11” frame.

The clinic was divided into two sessions. The first ran from 9:00 – 12:00 and was considered the “beginner” group. These weren’t necessarily beginner riders or green horses, but they were new to this type of horsemanship. There were twenty three or four of them in all, plus Buck’s horse, a three year old dainty blue roan who had “oh, about twenty rides on her so far” according to Buck. The first thing that told me this wasn’t going to be your average western/cowpoke/whisper to the horse and have them giggle back was not Buck, but the people riding in the actual clinic. There was a drop dead gorgeous 17.2H dutch warmblood being ridden by a woman in formal dressage attire. Thoroughbreds were abundant with riders who obviously did the hunter/jumpers. One man was on a huge draft cross. There was a little gray paso fino and a fugly (in a cute sort of way) mustang. A few people were on fat quarter horses with the full western gear, but they were in the minority.

The first group did a lot of work on the ground in rope halters. Buck had them wiggle the rope which taught the horses to back away from pressure, but more importantly taught the riders when to release. If nothing else, the most important lesson I took away from this four day clinic is that it is all in the timing. Buck also put a lot of emphasis on controlling the feet, first on the ground and then in the saddle. “Control the feet, control the horse,” was the mantra of the day. When the riders finally got on he hounded them mercilessly to get their horses going. They didn’t trot until the very last day of the clinic, but he wanted them moving at the walk. Buck’s second biggest thing was flexion, both vertical and lateral. He could tell right away, as could a lot of us auditors, which horses had been worked in draw reins or side reins or the chambon (guilty!). They just didn’t have the look of the horses, his own mare specifically, who had been taught naturally how to carry themselves. Buck had the riders so a lot of miniature serpentines to change the bend through the body. He particularly liked one woman and her big, lanky chestnut thoroughbred. They weren’t the most athletic pair in the group, or the fanciest, but they sure were working hard and taking in every single word Buck said which earned them extra attention. One woman on a pretty dark bay tried to argue with Buck when he told her she wasn’t releasing her outside rein enough. This was the same woman who, every time she came down the long side where Buck couldn’t see her (but all of us could) was kicking the shit out of her poor horse’s shoulder to get him to move over. In so many words Bucks told her she was an idiot and that she had no sense of timing, so maybe he could see her belting her horse on the shoulder. Who knows?

The afternoon class was smaller with no more than twelve horses. Buck rode one of his more advanced mounts, a big thoroughbred/quarter horse who could spin on a dime and do a half passé down the length of the long side without breaking a sweat. The people in the more advanced class had been to at least one of his clinics before. They got more ride time, but it was still focused on the same ideas: timing, pressure, release, lateral work, and impulsion. There was only one rider in an english saddle in the second group, but Buck gave her just as much attention as he did the others. And did I mention this group got to herd cows?

Overall the experience was an extremely positive and eye opening one. I would love to ride in one of Buck’s clinics someday and really hope I get the opportunity. I think I could learn a lot. I thought I had learned a lot just from watching, but when the clinic was all said and done and I was back at the farm with Poppy in a rope halter in one hand and a flag in another, I had trouble getting her to do the simplest of exercises. We started with the rope wiggle (Poppy just walked casually forward and tried to eat the flag) and ended with trying to get her to pick her feet up with rope (she tried to eat the rope). Somewhere in between I think we got some good lateral flexion and she even crossed over a few times with her hind end, but whether she did it because I told her to or she felt sorry for me floundering around waving a flag in the air, I’m not entirely certain.

I’m hoping things will go a little more smoothly with Darwin this afternoon.