View from the North 40: Put another saddle on the horsey, mate

That famous movie clip from “Man from Snowy River” showing the epic scene, with the hero launching his horse off the top of a mountain and galloping headlong down the near-vertical mountainside, made its rounds on the internet again this week.

I remember when the movie was released and horse people couldn’t get enough of that scene, some out of excitement, some horror, and everyone wanted to own or at least ride in an Aussie stock saddle. That’s all pretty much still true today, hence the video clip making its regular rounds almost 40 years later.

Though the Aussie saddle looks like the love child of an English saddle and a Western saddle, it has its own unique feature — pronounced thigh supports that look like half a dinner plate, wrapped in leather and stuck toward the front edge of the saddle straight down from the horn. These swells are in front of the rider’s upper thigh and are intended to help hold the rider in place when the going gets rough.

I don’t mean to get ahead of myself in this tale, but the word “intended” is important, so just set that aside for later.

About 10 years after the movie was released, I got my chance to ride in an Aussie saddle.

We had new neighbors with horses so I invited them over to ride, and I was a bit excited to see the Aussie saddles on their horses when they arrived. Potential friendships have been forged with less to build on.

Before we all headed out on the trail, the neighbor took a moment to warm up her husband’s tall buckskin in my corral. I was standing nearby with my horse when the horse training session progressed to her snapping a whip repeatedly in the air and yelling, “Heeyaw! Heeyaw!” while the horse, being held on a short lead line, scrambled sideways in a relatively small circle around her.

After my horse and I exchanged skeptical looks, we’re far enough away that my horse felt assured she wouldn’t be next.

My horse and I were equally skeptical a few times out on the trail, too, because whenever the buckskin horse refused to do something for the husband, the couple would dismount from their horses. He would hold her horse’s reins, while she got on his horse and kick and cuss until the horse did as asked, and then they would swap back and continue on with the ride.

They were Californians, maybe that explains it?

Anyhow, I point these events out only because they speak to the horse’s state of mind about being ridden and to the depth of my desire to try that Aussie saddle — because when the invitation came, it was specifically attached to my riding the saddle on that horse.

Crowds aren’t my thing, but the neighbor wanted to try practicing with a local mounted drill team, and she offered to let me ride an Aussie saddle, but on her husband’s leggy buckskin, if I accompanied her. In retrospect, I think I may have been tricked.

Now, drill team isn’t physically demanding for a horse like racing or a day working the branding pen, but it’s physically and mentally exhausting because it requires a lot of go, stop, go, turn here, don’t mind that horse coming at you, go faster, scooch closer, etc., and do it in coordination with 30 horses in an arena built for 20. So it wasn’t surprising that the buckskin started getting unhappy about halfway through practice.

The surprise was how quickly he transitioned from grumpy-face horsey to bucking like he was trying out for a semi-pro team.

Remember how I said the swells on the Aussie saddle are intended to hold the rider in when things get rough? In fact, when you mount up, you weirdly have to swing up and get sat in there in a specific way to get tucked in behind the swells.

Conversely, if you get popped out of those swells on that first jump, getting your flailing body parts settled back into the saddle is tricky, especially with the horse working to counter your efforts with more bucking.

I spent more time levitating over the saddle and bouncing off its ridges than actually in it after that first launch. In fact, for me, the stop-action, mental-photo moment was when the only thing connecting me to the horse was one of my boot heels dug into the saddle skirt and one hand pulling on the reins to keep that horse’s head up. I don’t even know where my other two limbs were at the time.

One of the riders, though, said her highlight was when it looked as if I was kneeling in the saddle like a trick rider. I was just thankful when the horse reared straight up in the air. One of the riders was yelling for me to bail off, which would’ve been smart, but I wasn’t about to jump because the action was quiet enough up there I finally got my seat back in place for the last four hops.

The Aussie saddles lost their appeal for me after that, even after the ankle-to-ankle bruises faded away.

But, hey, don’t let me discourage your Aussie saddle dreams, results may vary according to rider.

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I still want to gallop down that mountain, though, at [email protected] .