The Mud Season Grumps

That was one bloody long winter.

I don't usually mind winter, even though it entails my mare looking like a yak, little riding and lots of lugging water, frozen manure, bad roads, oil bills and listening to my husband complain about it from November to May.  But this winter was a winter like nothing in the past 30 years ... or it seemed that way to me.  I remember winters like this when I was a kid, with 8' snowbanks and two-day blizzards dumping 36" of snow.  About the only thing we missed was the week-long stretch of sub-zero weather.  Anyway, all this has left me more than ready for spring, and we're only just well into mud season (which can last a couple weeks, or until the end of May).  Mix into this the fact that everyone I know has gotten away for at least a long weekend and I haven't gone anywhere since last September (AND I had to miss Johnny Clegg's tour - the first since '05), toss in the usual hormonal mood swings that accompany being "of a certain age", and top it with the fact that I haven't been to the dojo in two weeks, and you have yourself a crabby, grouchy old broad who needs to lose the CrankyPants before someone gets bitten.

To that end, I've decided to vent about Stuff  I Don't Like.  It might not help, but it sure as hell won't hurt.

SADDLE PADS

I don't dislike saddle pads in general; even shim pads are ok - it's the "special" pads that bug me.

• "This pad will make any saddle fit your horse" pads.  Not.  While shim pads and the like can be helpful "band aids" to temporarily correct minor fitting issues, and I'll be one of the first to advocate for their correct use, there's no saddle pad in the world that will make your saddle fit if it really and truly doesn't, and no pad in the world that will make every saddle fit your horse.  Brilliant marketing ploy, but not so great in the real world.
• Gel pads.  They're hot, they're heavy, they don't breathe, they feel icky and they don't do diddly to alleviate pressure.  Think about it: when you poke one, the gel moves away from the pressure rather than doing anything to pad it.  They can also put pressure right on the spinous process (even if they have the space to accommodate the spine, they can get dragged down by their own weight and cause issues there), and I've seen them scald horses' backs when used in hot weather.  Hate 'em, hate 'em, hate 'em. 
• Lollipop pads.  They can put pressure directly on the spinous process, and when used to lift the cantle of a saddle with a too-narrow tree, make the tree points dig into the horse's back.  Ouch.

SADDLE PAD SUBCHAPTER

• Impression pads.  They can be a useful tool in showing where the saddle's creating a lot of pressure, but they don't tell you why it's there.  Additionally, the ones I've seen are pretty bulky and can create saddle fitting issues that a regular thin quilt won't and that really aren't there to begin with.  Again, think:  your saddle seems to fit fine, but you want to check it.  You stick a 1" thick pad (keep in mind that one tree width = about 3/4") full of mushy dental cement or putty or whatever that squishy stuff is under it, and you don't think it'll show pressure somewhere?  Put on some thick, fuzzy wool socks and then stuff your feet into your dress-up shoes and prance about for a bit.  Then come talk to me about pressure.

EGO

Until science can come up with a way to truly quantify why a saddle fits (or doesn't) the individual horse and rider, until it can measure how each physical characteristic, preference and pecadillo comes into play and why some horses and riders seem to defy the known laws of gravity and physics, saddle fitting is always going to be more theoretical than empirical, more of an art than a science.  The saddle fitter can offer educated opinions and input, but in the end, that's ALL we can offer, and sometimes we have to face the fact that not every customer (whether two or four legged) will agree with our recommendations.  We aren't going to nail it every time.  We will run into horses and riders that we can't fit (or at least fit to our satisfaction), for whatever reason.  And if that happens, trying to cram our ideas down the customer's throat will NOT end well.  Just take your ego and get the hell out of the way.  Sometimes it's far better to send the customer on to another fitter with "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, and I hope you have better luck with Bunny Snugglebutt and HappyArse Saddlery."  Less headache for everyone.

 EGO SUBCHAPTER

Sometimes fitters make mistakes.  We'll take the tracing wrong, forget to mention a fitting option to a customer, screw up on the order form and write down the wrong color or size ... and that's when we have to put on the big girl/boy pants and say, "Yeah, I screwed up."  It might cost you some money to correct the mistake, but in the long run, it'll cost less than the damage it'll do to your reputation (and perhaps the horse's back) if you don't pony up.

CASTS AND IMPRESSIONS OF THE BACK

In theory, a great idea - as least to get an idea of static fit - but I've never seen this method work better than a standard template, and sometimes it doesn't work as well.  The casts and impressions we've received have arrived broken, warped, pulverized, squashed and, in one memorable instance, melted into a blob.  We even received one that we had to assemble - slide flange A into slot B until marks C and D are aligned.  It definitely kept us occupied for a while, but didn't look much like a horse's back when we were through.

BRAND-CERTIFIED FITTERS

Again, I'll preface this statement:  certification is all well and good IF there's a good education behind it.  What irks me is when a saddle co. will "certify" you as a fitter in a couple days or - in some cases - a couple hours.  I'm certified by one saddle company, and it's by virtue of spending an afternoon listening to a sales pitch, attempting to fit their saddles to a couple different horses and answering one question correctly.  The fact that the saddles didn't fit (and couldn't be made to fit) the horses we were working with seemed to be of little interest to the rep; my objections were met with "Oh, just add another shim and get the rider on, and it'll be fine."  To my mind, that doesn't make you a fitter - it just makes you a rep ... for whatever that's worth.

NAME QUEEN TRAINERS

"My trainer wanted me in a _______ (fill in the blank) saddle so I bought one, but it made me and my horse miserable." If I had a nickle for every time I've heard that, I might not be rich, but I'd have a lot of nickles.  When I was teaching and training professionally, I never much cared what my students used as long as it fit them and their horse.  But some trainers ... I don't know whether they get a kickback from each saddle sold or what the motivation is, but there seems to be a good number of trainers out there who demand that their students ride in a particular saddle, whether it's a good fit or not.  Now, to me, that's sort of a contradiction in terms:  if you're a trainer, you want your students (and their horses) to perform to the best of their ability, since if they look good, other people will go, "Hey, that rider and horse look great.  I want to ride with their trainer."  If, on the other hand, your students look as though they have a hedgehog in their breeches and their horses are going around with their heads up the rider's nose, smart people might go, "Oooh ... that rider looks like they have a hedgehog in their breeches, and their horse's head is up their nose.  No, thanks."  Wouldn't you think it better to let the horse and rider be comfy rather than branded?  Chacun à son goût.

NARROW TREES

If a horse has a big wither, it seems that popular wisdom demands that the horse be fit with a narrow tree, even if the horse in question isn't all that narrow.  "Nothing else will clear the wither" is usually the reasoning.  Well, true - a narrow tree will usually make a saddle clear most withers; it also pinches the living hell out of the wither in question, makes the saddle sit pommel-high, and throws the rider so far into the back seat that they look as though they're water skiing.  So, in an effort to level things out, someone shoves a lollipop pad (see above) under the saddle, which may bring the cantle up, but ... again, see above. 

In the decade plus that I've been fitting saddles, I've run into precisely two horses who needed narrow trees. They also needed panel modifications - K or trapezius panels, wither or full front gussets, and deeper rear gussets.  And amazingly, after a couple months, that tree needed to be widened because for the first time, the the horse could use him/herself properly and the muscles had room to grow.   Both of those horses went on to need new saddles, because the narrow tree they'd started with couldn't be widened enough to accommodate the horses they grew to be.

OVERTHINKING THE ISSUE

As Edie always says, "Saddle fitting is NOT rocket science," but some people - fitters, saddle companies and customers - want take it to the other extreme.  They turn it into some sort of arcane knowledge that's a cross between alchemy and brain surgery, and to gain understanding of it, you must join the Anointed Society of Saddlefitters (ASS) by giving a pound of flesh, a quart of blood and learning the secret handshake.  Only then will you get the decoder ring.

Yes, you do need a basic working knowledge to become a fitter, and the longer you do it, the better you'll likely become.  Gaining an education can be a challenge (though it's more accessible here in the States than it used to be), and some people have a better eye and feel for it than others, but it's not tough to learn the basics.  If the saddle is comfortable for horse and rider, it doesn't NEED the Infinitely Adjustable Tree or the Ergonomic Shoulder Relief Panels or the 15-Position Billet System or the Gender-Specific Seat or the Matching Cup Holder.  Listen to the horse and rider.  See entry on "Ego" above.

In Reply to Catherine Haddad

There's a very thought-provoking blog post by Catherine Haddad on The Chronicle of the Horse website, titled "'Supersize It' Syndrome".  It's probably one of the most interesting views on saddle fitting theory written by a non-fitter that I've read in a long time.  Ms. Haddad has obviously put a lot of time and thought into this issue, and given the success she's acheived, her methods definitely work for her.  She makes some very good points, though I think some of them need to be expanded and a more balanced view given.  So please, go read her blog.  Print it out, or take notes. Then come on back here, and we'll go over it point-by-point.

Back to Basics - Saddle Types

I was ambling through the blog the other day, making a list of what I've covered and what still needs doing, and I realized that I haven't touched on any real basics (for my more beginner readers) in a long time.  Apologies for that; I sometimes get so entrenched in geeking about the minutiae of saddle fit and construction that I forget that not everyone is as experienced (or as into this!) as I.  So I'm going to give myself a firm shake and address one of the most basic issues with saddles:  what are the basic types of English saddles, and what are their form and function?

In the English saddle world, there are basically four types of saddles:  dressage, close contact (aka forward seat or jumping saddles), all-purpose and trail saddles.  Which saddle you choose will depend on the discipline you'll be riding.

Since some people want a "do it all" saddle, and some aren't sure what discipline they want to pursue, all-purpose saddles are fairly popular, especially with beginners.  Most a/p saddles should be ridden with a moderately bent leg (think of the front of your thigh lying parallel to the front of the flap), which will allow you to do a little jumping (small fences), a little dressage (lower level) and flat work; they're comfortable and secure enough for a trail ride.  They often feature a deepish seat, a moderately forward flap, and a round cantle.  Some, like this Black Country Summit, have a straighter (or VSD/dressage focus) flap:

And some, like this Black Country Wexford, offer a more forward (VSS/jump focus) flap:

 

In spite of being what some wits refer to as a "no purpose" saddle, a/p saddles are popular with folks doing hunter paces, low-level eventing and foxhunting (in the field or hilltopping rather than first or second flight or staff) who want the security of a deeper seat while still being able to negotiate lower fences. 

Some people look at trail or endurance saddles as an offshoot of all-purpose saddles, though by rights they're something of their own category.  They usually have a fairly straight flap and a moderate to deep seat and lots of dee rings for carrying your equipment.  The focus on these saddles is good balance and weight distribution, and superior comfort for long rides.  This is a Black Country Equiniox, which has a very dressage-y flap (but which, interestingly, doesn't show the dee rings!):

And this is a Frank Baines Enduro LDR, which has a slightly more forward flap and deeper seat (and does show the dees):

These saddles also often have a crupper bar attachment in case a crupper is needed to help stabilize the saddle.

Some trail saddles have extended panels, which means that the panels extend (obviously) quite far to the rear.  This does maximize the weight bearing area, but can be problematic on shorter-backed horses like Arabs (which, ironically, are the most popular breed for endurance and competitive trail).

Next, let's look at the close contact/jump/"hunt seat" saddle.  It has a flatter seat, a square cantle and usually a more forward flap; you will ride in it with quite a lot of bend in your leg (again, imagine the parallel between the flap and your thigh), since the focus of these saddles is jumping and riding in your two-point rather than sitting. 

Now, to confuse things further, there are "sub-categories" with jumping saddles.  Let me start explaining this by explaining some basic differences in the jumping disciplines.  

#1)  Jumpers.  Think of going as fast as you can in an arena over a course of big fences without knocking rails down.  Jumper riders ride with a very bent, "short" leg (the rule of thumb being "the higher the fence the shorter the stirrup").  There are few rules regarding attire and turn-out in the jumper ring - you can ride in a polo shirt, your saddle can be a monoflap with external blocks, your horse doesn't need to be braided and can wear ear nets and protective/supportive boots.  What counts is how quickly you can navigate the course of jumps without "faults" (knocking down rails).  Jumps are often big, colorful and fall down pretty easily.

#2)  Hunters/equitation.  This discipline is modeled on the ideal for the hunt field, and is very formal and traditional.  Riders must be in proper attire (jackets and stock ties or rat catchers), the saddle must be a traditional square cantled two flap saddle (no monoflaps or external blocks in the hunt ring), horses must have the manes and tails braided and cannot wear boots or leg wraps.  You're judged on your equitation and your horse's form and ability over fences (which rarely exceed 3'6" and are supposed to look "natural" - like what you'd encounter in the hunt field).

#3)  Eventers.  These people do jumpers - explained above - AND cross country ("x-c"); they also share the jumpers' acceptance of non-traditional looks in tack and apparel.  X-C involves galloping (cross-country, obviously) at a set pace of so many meters per minute (which usually translates to pretty damn fast) and jumping large, immovable fences made from fallen trees, telephone poles, picnic tables, parked cars, giant wooden ducks ... think of anything you'd find out in the woods or fields, or along a country road; if you dose it with steroids and set it in cement, you'll have a good x-c fence.  Ditches and banks and scary drop fences into ditches and water will be included as well. 

Now that I've covered that, here are examples of saddles for each.  This Black Country Quantum is a jump focus saddle:

The flap is set quite forward and the seat, while a bit deeper than you'll find on some jump saddles, is open enough so that it won't hinder the rider when they have to get out of it to clear a jump.

An equitation or hunter focus saddle has a straighter flap, since people who ride this focus are negotiating smaller fences at lower speeds and don't need to ride with as short a leg.  They want a saddle that will allow them to maintain proper form over fences and fit into the parameters of correct traditional-looking equipment.  This County Stabilizer is a great example of this type of saddle:

A cross-country saddle has an extremely forward flap to allow a short "galloping length" leg, a shallow seat and a swept-back cantle so the rider can get back when coming down off a drop fence.  This Black Country Tex Eventer has all those features:

The final type of English saddle is the dressage saddle.  These have a long, very straight flap and can range from a pretty flat seat, such as this Black Country Eden has:

Another open seat on this Passier GG (my saddle):

To a deeper seat on this County Fusion:

To a very deep seat, as on this Frank Baines Omni high-head:

Since a dressage rider gives the bulk of the aids via the seat and legs, the dressage saddle is designed to bring the rider as close as possible to the horse, help them maintain balance and position, and not "get in the way". 

Saddle design has changed considerably for both horse and rider.  Just for fun, here are a couple older saddles.  You'll note that they're much more basic and "plain Jane"; the seats are shallower and there's a lot less padding all around!  (I had to find these on the 'Net, since we don't have any of these venerable types here in the shop).  First is an old Pariani close contact:

And this is an older Stubben Tristan, probably German-made:

These old saddles didn't offer much in the way of luxury and cushiness; the leather was usually quite slick and the knee rolls/thigh blocks were usually tiny or totally non-existent.   You weren't helped to stay aboard with big blocks or deep seats or soft, grippy leather ...

(As we fade to black, the old dinosaur saddle fitter is waxing nostalgic, remembering with fondness and a tear in her eye the longe-line lessons with which she tortured her students, and their feeble cries of protest when she made them drop their irons ...)