Teaching Good Brakes: Make Them Think It Was Their Idea

Good brakes are a must, and honestly, I think they're one of the easiest things to teach a horse. You just have to make them believe it was their idea.

I start teaching my colts on the lead line during a simple lunge session. There is no use in getting after them. They'll pretty much self-teach this lesson if you give them the opportunity.

I ask them to trot on the lead line and simply keep them moving. No force. No whipping. Just easy trotting.

The moment I feel them start to break that trot down into a walk, I say "whoa" and ask them to stop.

If they stop, they get a break.

And I mean a real break. Long enough to catch their breath, stand quietly, lick and chew, and realize that stopping their feet feels pretty darn good.

Then we start again.

We trot until they begin showing me they're getting tired. I ask for a good "whoa," and when they stop the first time I ask, they immediately get the release and reward of standing still.

It doesn't take long before they start putting it together.

Whoa = break time.

But What If They Don't Stop?

This is where I think people can make the lesson harder than it needs to be.

If I ask "whoa" and my horse doesn't stop, I don't punish them for it. I simply ask them to keep trotting.

No whipping. No aggression. No fight.

I never want my horse associating my "whoa" cue with punishment.

A horse that's confused or scared is naturally going to want to move away from whatever is creating that pressure. The last thing I want to do is teach one to push through my stop cue because they're anticipating something unpleasant on the other side of it.

So if they don't stop the first time, that's okay.

We just keep those feet moving.

We'll trot another few laps and I'll ask again. If they're still not ready to stop, we keep moving. Eventually I'll feel them start thinking about breaking stride. As soon as they start slowing down, I'll ask for "whoa" again.

More times than not, they're ready to yield and stop.

And the moment they do, they get the break. Always.

I don't care if they were confused the first time. I don't care if we had to trot a few more circles before they figured it out. The moment they give me that stop when I ask, the lesson is over for a minute and they get their reward.

That's how I build a stop I can trust.

Someday, That Stop Might Really Matter

I don't teach a good "whoa" just because it looks nice in an arena.

One day I might be riding a risky trail, lose my balance, and need my horse to stop immediately so I can adjust myself. I don't want to pull harder, argue, or wonder whether they're going to listen.

I want to say "whoa" and feel those feet stop.

This same idea carries over into riding.

I once had a stubborn gelding who decided he didn't want to stop while we were loping circles in the arena. I asked him to stop, and instead, he pulled on the bit and kept loping.

So I let him lope.

Every time he tried to slow down, I asked him to keep loping.

It didn't take long before continuing to lope wasn't nearly as appealing as it had been a few minutes earlier.

Finally, I asked him, "whoa."

He shut down the brakes.

So I let him quit right then.

I got off, loosened his saddle, and led him back to the barn.

He never gave me another issue with his brakes after that.

That's the whole point.

Make them think stopping was their idea.

As a woman, I'm not going to out-muscle a horse. I don't want to try. I want my horses thinking, understanding my cues, and working with me as a partner.

Whoa means stop.

And stopping means release.

Once I start riding my colts, I also spend a lot of time doing absolutely nothing. We stand still. We relax. We learn that every second under saddle doesn't have to involve moving our feet.

Because someday I'm going to need that horse to stand quietly while I fix my seat, adjust something, drink some water, or just sit there for a minute.

I'm not interested in teaching a horse that standing still is something they have to fight against.

I want them to know it's the easy place.

Good brakes aren't about being stronger than your horse.

They're about teaching your horse that when you ask them to stop, stopping is the answer they were looking for all along.