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The Ballad of the Owyhee

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Fishing for Mustangs

Fisherman you ask?

John had developed a technique for gentling wild horses that began with using a bamboo pole to make first contact in a square pen, not a round pen; adamantly not a round pen. With studied moves John worked the pole all over the horse, and then went fishing. Draping a length of cotton rope from the pole so it looked a lot like a fishing rod, John has caught more wild horses than I’ve caught rainbow trout . . . well not quite, but you get the picture.

By the final day of what was to become the first annual Wild Horse Workshop, most of us were beginning our gentling with a 12’ bamboo pole. Today trainers worldwide, inmates in prison wild horse programs, and lay people are using John Sharp’s horse training techniques very successfully.

These techniques are the most humane and expedient approach to the initial trust building with these fascinating creatures. In fact, at this point in my evolution with wild horses, my personal goal is to have each horse leading, backing, and tying calmly without ever breaking into a sweat; in most instances I am achieving just that thanks to John and Joyce Sharp.

As the years and workshops went by I was often asked when I would adopt one of these living legends, to which I usually answered, “Someday when the right one comes along.”

The Right One Does Finally Come Along

Fast forward to fall of 2001 in Toole, Utah where I was attending a horse workshop. On the second or third day of the event I was presented with a horse that would benefit from my program. Each clinician there had their individual approach to gentling, some using round pens, some actually creating human rounds pens, and some using square pens with poles and ropes. An attractive sorrel gelding of a year old was driven into my pen. A stout horse with some obvious draft blood in his background, he was unusually calm. With four white socks and a flaxen mane and tail, he had a strong, confident presence.
Beginning with the pole, he accepted its touch all over his body with hardly any resistance. Within minutes my hand replaced the pole and I was scratching and rubbing him all over as he delighted in my attention. Then I tried a technique I’d only heard about, whistling into the horse’s nose. Sure enough, his head cocked to the side in a sign of curiosity as I whistled directly right into his nostril. This was truly a special creature that grabbed my heart and he received an inordinate amount of my valuable time because of this connection. I decided then and there to make a project out of him and bring him along as fast and far as possible. Far is a good word; fast isn’t. (I’ve learned a very hard lesson with this horse from the Owyhee Range of north central Nevada). By the time the auction started on Saturday morning, I had a very gentle horse that I knew would command a premium over the standard beginning bid . . . otherwise I would take him home, which is what I did and the saga of Owyhee has been one of the greatest challenges and journeys of my life and career with horses.

My Biggest Challenge

Interestingly, this horse that I anticipated as being easy to start under saddle in fact turned out to be my biggest challenge. In hindsight, I have to wonder if perhaps I didn’t push too hard and try to accomplish too much at the workshop. Intent on progressing him along as fast as possible, I proceeded with the pad and the saddle. He didn’t want anything on his back, but my ego got caught up in proving something that, as I reflect back on it, I’ll never understand, save for the hard lesson. In any case Owyhee succeeded in ridding himself of the saddle and I didn’t press him any farther at that point as time ran out on me and he made it abundantly clear that he just wasn’t ready.

Some weeks later that fall, after being gelded, Owyhee arrived at my ranch in Idaho. He was the same confident, happy, horse who loved attention and remained calm . . . until he was pushed, then he became a completely different horse that was very hard to control and was at times, frankly, downright dangerous. His wildness would take over as he kicked into flight mode with serious white in his eyes and a head waaaaaaaaaaaay up high in the air. His body would tense up as his muscles tightened hard as a rock. Bringing him back to being the calm horse I thought I’d adopted wasn’t an easy or a quick transition. It was an agonizingly slow process that I hadn’t encountered in my career of twenty years and I was simply at a loss to help him, but hoped time, along with my guidance, would.

With six feet of snow at my place in the winter, working horses isn’t feasible, so Owyhee and Lakota, my older Anglo Arab, went to winter camp for the next six months. I stayed in phone contact with the overseers who boarded about a hundred horses, so I knew both horses wintered well out with the herd and were in good condition when I returned to retrieve them in the spring. Pushing Owa into the round pen, I anticipated having to pole gentle him after so long. I was right. He wasn’t too keen on being caught, but five minutes with the pole turned him into butter. We loaded up and drove two hours back to Windrider Ranch on the west side of the Tetons in Idaho.

Year Two

Once we were settled in at my place, Wind Rider Ranch, I was very anxious to bring Owyhee right along on this his second year, but that just wasn’t his plan. With utmost patience and using all the tricks I’d gained in working with dozens of other mustangs and domestics, we just weren’t getting there. We had a great relationship, but he just would not tolerate certain things and I was stuck . . . not for one season, but for two. At one point I attempted to lay him down. I’ve used this technique to help overly headstrong horses that have intimidated too many humans and needed to come down a notch or two. Up to this point I’d never failed at laying down one single horse. They all made it and came out the other side far better. But not Owyhee. He would not let down his guard and relax and accept lying down. Again I failed and was beginning to think that there might just be a screw loose with this horse that I so loved. I feared a pasture ornament for the next twenty years. And another two years had gone by.

My brain played so many games with me as I tried to figure out this horse that I really wanted to help reach the other side. But there was a hard reality seeping slowly into my psyche. He might not make it.

His fourth year I became more creative and had him eating his meals as I stood over him on bales of hay. Then I began leaning on him. Then laying on him. Then sitting on him as he calmly ate. Finally I had a friend lead me as I bellied him, but he was nervous and just  couldn’t move along smoothly. He was hesitant and impulsive and unsure, no matter how much I supported him. It was so frustrating to work so hard with him day after day and not make the progress that I had achieved relatively quickly with hundreds of other horses, including mustangs. I had been successful with them within hours, but with Owahee it was taking years and he still wasn’t there. What had I bitten off here? But I stayed the course and kept creating new challenges that finally led to mounting him late in the summer. But he still wasn’t right and after several very hesitant circles in my pen, he exploded and I came off. I did get right back on and finished on a decent note, but as I lay in bed that evening completely perplexed, I decided I needed a second opinion. I just wasn’t thinking and seeing this all very clearly.

A Second Opinion

I located a young trainer in Idaho Falls who sounded experienced with difficult horses, and was a bit younger and braver, so I delivered Owyhee to Steve Farnes a week later. After about two weeks I gave Steve a call. Nope, he hadn’t ridden him yet. Anther couple weeks and yes he’d ridden my horse, but was also bucked off. I guess by now I didn’t feel completely stupid about my inclinations. Steve had the horse for six weeks and when I picked him up in the middle of October of ’05 he actually rode the horse, first in a small dusty stall, then out. But he wouldn’t even consider going into the round pen with Owa. Oh no. That was where he’d melted down for Steve before. He rode him around the various outside pens and runs and yes I was impressed. He was riding the horse, but couldn’t get off of him fast enough. Both parties were clearly nervous.
Steve and I discussed his tuning up Owa in the spring and said our farewells for the winter. As I delivered Owa to winter camp, I again I bid farewell to my wild horse until spring.

Spring 2006

I picked up my boys in early June. They’d both wintered well and Owa had filled out even more. While a little stand-offish at first, we reconnected with a good bonding session and he quickly became by best buddy again . . . on the ground. The next month or so I worked on just about anything I could think of to heighten his confidence and help him relax. I ponied him on rides around my place, making sure to spend time overhead and on each side, touching him in the poll area, and all over his back, while desensitizing his sides with my foot. This was difficult for him at first, but with time and patience, he progressed to acceptance. I drove him over poles on the ground at liberty and on the lead. I built a labyrinth and walked and backed him through it. We did tarp therapy in a big way, both standing and walking across tarps and carrying one enveloped around him. I set up jumps in my arena and drove him over them as he delighted in gathering himself and just leaping with real gusto. He loved all the challenges when well presented.

Papaya, Mango, Tortillas and my Garden Too!

Fairly early in the summer I brought home a promising looking papaya from my favorite market. It took almost a week to ripen, and then eating it with a squeeze of lime and a touch of salt, well that’s really living in my book. As I walked outside to toss the papaya skin into my compost, I had a strange and kind of naughty thought, would Owa be interested in this papaya skin? Why not? He didn’t even pause to check it out. If his Dad presents it, he eats it. This was the funniest thing I’d ever seen, as that bright orange papaya slowly disappeared down his throat. He was completely absorbed, eyes glazed over, slobbering away.

And so it went from there. You name it; this character of a horse that had melted my heart would just gobble down almost anything. And it kind of became a game with me. In my mind I was constantly asking myself, what won’t he eat? Over time I presented him with mango skins, avocado skins, tortillas, (preferably corn), cooked fish skin, rice, cheese, yogurt, pasta, and left-over salad. He was a regular disposal and my compost heap was rapidly shrinking.

Later in the summer at one of my campsites in Yellowstone I found a small nylon bag that a previous camper had left behind. As I rifled through the bag I found a good variety of tasty treats to offer Owa. He took care of the baby carrots in short order. Then I presented him with a whole wheat tortilla and he found that downright scrumptious. There was a highly odiferous piece of something at the bottom of the bag that turned out to be a hunk of sharp cheddar. No way, I thought to myself. But I was wrong. He attacked that cheese as only a gourmet would, with gusto, and then proceeded to lick his lips after the cheese was long gone.

Gardening with Owyhee

I have five pastures in which I rotate my two horses regularly. I want them to graze it down, poop it up and move to the next pasture and start all over again. And that is how it works. This is called holistic grazing/farming.

In one particular pasture I have a couple small gardens. One is strictly raspberries, the other is vegetables. Peas took up the middle on a trellis. They were growing better than ever and reaching for the sky, even over my head. There was spinach on one side with a colorful lettuce mix- red leaf, arugula, bright yellow black seeded Simpson, and several other medium green-leaved varieties on the other side of my award winning peas. Darkly veined Swiss chard, carrots, onions, and cilantro rounded out my fabulous garden. And that garden was the pride of my summer I love gardening, along with the benefits of eating what I’ve grown in good clean soil. Maybe Owa knew that, because when I allowed the boys to graze that pasture down, I caught Owa near the garden and saw some missing tops, both vegetable and raspberries. Remember . . . he eats everything.

I’ll fix him, I thought, as I prepared a mix of canola oil and cayenne pepper. With a basting brush I painted the leaves of the raspberries, peas, spinach, and lettuce just before dark.

I had a restless night and feared for the worst. But no. I’d taken care of it. No self-respecting horse would touch anything with cayenne on it. At first morning light I was out there with a hint of trepidation deep in my stomach. And sure enough, my garden was gone. GONE. Everything was trimmed down, way down. My award winning peas that I’d nursed along since May were now trimmed down well below my knees. The carrots’ tops were neatly nibbled down to ground level with a number of suspect holes where Owa had pulled them up and was justly rewarded with the sweet orange of this vegetable that all horses adore. The chard was only nibbled, but the spinach was nipped to the quick. The lettuce mix was trimmed level with the dirt. Owa must have had one of the great evenings of his life. I knew at least my garden would grow back, but I was ready to take no more chances. And while I was disturbed with Owyhee, I could only blame myself and vowed to keep him away from such temptations. Yeah right! He is always in trouble or right on the verge of it and I would have to be overly vigilant to insure no more surprises. Yet just looking at this character always puts a huge smile on my face, and I could never be upset with him for long.

Refinishing Antique Furniture

In the fall a year earlier I’d inherited an interesting piece of antique furniture from a neighbor who moved to town. It was a lovely old dresser covered with layers of paint, the final coat a gaudy turquoise. But this piece was just ornate enough to arouse my curiosity and as I began stripping it, found rich birds-eye maple graced the exterior of the two top drawers. The top was deeply stained from spills and cigarette butts left to burn into oblivion. Because the stripping fumes were so unpleasant and even toxic, I moved it outside my garage and worked on it in the cool of late afternoon. There was an entire table adjacent to the old dresser fully cluttered with steel wool, sandpaper, bowls of stripping liquid, turpentine, and a dozen tools. Enter Mr. Curiosity. I rotated Owa into the driveway pasture, then the phone rang. I hurried into the house and was tied up for a good quarter hour. As my call was reaching a logical end I heard a loud crash. I hurried outside. Sure enough Owa had decided to take over. Thankfully he hadn’t touched the actual stripper. His early warning system must have kicked into gear about that substance, but he did what he could to help me with this project and had almost everything laying on the ground around the dresser. Tools of all shapes and sizes, crumpled newspapers, used and unused steel wool, and sandpaper littered the area as he stood by so proud of his fine work. I mean he smiled as I walked out all in a tizzy to find him just as eager to keep the party going and help me. Thankfully we dodged a bullet with this episode and led him back into his favorite pasture safe and sound.

You must understand that I’ve had horses for years, but never seen anything like this, not even close. Most horses like carrots, apples, hay, and grain, but thoroughly inspect every single offering before indulging. First the investigation, then the consumption. Horses have an unbelievably acute sense of smell and are not easily fooled. Nature made them this way. But Owyhee’s sense of curiosity and adventure, as well as his insatiable appetite, seem to over-ride this sensibility that protects most horses.

Trainer Olson Comes to Visit Owa

In the middle of the summer my friends Jim and Jan Olson escaped the grueling summer heat of Florida and came for a visit. I’d known the Olsons from Colorado where Jim and I worked together in the mid-90’s. Jim is an infinitely patient and calm man which works real well with horses. I was really eager for Jim to assess Owa. After informing trainer Olson of my very challenging plight with Owyhee, I told him, “Have at it. Just approach Owa like any other horse and just do your thing.” And he did. It was a beautiful thing to watch one of my old friends, wise in horse knowledge, connect with my wild horse, whom I’d grown to so love.

Jim quickly saw the kindred spirit of this complex creature and could easily understand my dilemma. Owa was such an incredible character, so full of life and curiosity and totally adorable, yet painfully so.

But Jim encountered the same roadblocks I did. When Owa didn’t like or trust something, that head went sky-high, white filled his eyes, and he tensed up like a steel rod. The predictable explosion was terrifying to both of us, so we always backed off and helped Owa regroup and relax.

Each trainer develops his own approach to communication and Jim had some good ideas and techniques to experiment with. I was all eyes and ears, because I love to learn and trusted this friend of a dozen years. Jim began with a deep session of bonding with Owa. They simply breathed together as Jim placed his hands assuringly on Owa’s withers and shoulder. Later Jim long-lined Owa first in the round pen, then in the arena. From there he decided to teach Owa to drag objects, beginning with a lunge line. This was scary for the horse, but with Jim’s support, Owa worked through it quickly. Then Jim tied a small stick to the end of the lunge line. Again we were concerned, but after ramping it up gradually, Owa finally accepted ultimately dragging a heavy log! From there the three of us went deep into my forest and had Owa drag several fallen trees out of the woods. While he was quite suspect at first as each tree followed behind him, he dragged them right up a steep hill. This was all part of our confidence building exercises in anticipation of the next step . . . riding.

Finally we both thought it was time to mount up. With Jim on the ground supporting Owa and me in the saddle, we walked circles in my small round pen. But again that head was way too high, there was too much white in the eyes, and he was nervous, tight-mouthed, and not breathing regularly. I got off and we regrouped. Perhaps he’d trust me more on the ground with Jim in the saddle. Nope. Same situation. He just couldn’t seem to let down, relax, and accept.

“He’s really tight, Frank. He’s way too nervous for us to relax enough to help him,” Jim commented after getting off. “I just don’t know what else we can do,” he added, shaking his head in frustration.

The really hard part for me was genuinely loving this horse and so wanting him to make it, but not knowing where to go from here. That night I awoke suddenly with an epiphany- build a very small rectangle, a chute type deal. This way he couldn’t really get a jump on me as it would be just too small for him to run or even buck, or so I hoped. So that very next morning I built a pen, probably eight by ten feet, right amidst the lodge poles that dominate my property. I found the perfect trees and size and by the time Jim and Jan returned that afternoon, it was built and ready to go.

The very next morning before utilizing my new creation, Jim round-penned Owa to take the edge off and demonstrate his approach to this valuable exercise. But Owa never did relax, drop his head, lick his lips, and finally capitulate. While Jim was somewhat disappointed, I wasn’t surprised one bit. He just couldn’t trust at that level. But Owa had expended plenty of energy and by the end was following Jim like a lost dog. I figured it was a good time to move into the newly constructed pen.

Into a Very Small Pen

I eased the snaffle into his mouth and took him into our new very small enclosure. After some circles and wind-downs to a stop on the ground, I mounted up. He was nervous, rigid, and suspect, so all I did at first was simply ask for his head in each direction with plenty of soothing words and almost constant stroking to keep us both calm. Then I asked very gently for forward movement. He shot into the corner and stopped, rigid as a board.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeasy man. Eaaaaaaaaaaaasy man,” I cooed over and over while stoking that neck and withers. I was nervous as a cat, but a good actor and pretended to be just as calm as can be as I pulled his head to the side and bumped his hind end over. He abruptly shifted his hips to the right and shot over to the diagonal corner and again stopped abruptly. Constant stroking and reassurance . . . and then finally I heard a sigh and his head dropped just a hair. Right then and there I believed I might just succeed. Jim saw the change as well.

“I think he just made a huge stride. His eyes are softer. His ears are forward most the time, looking forward to your next cue. He seems a whole lot happier Frank. It’s just time now,” commented a wise Jim Olson with strong tone of assurance.

I rode him for another ten minutes or so and left him in a very good place. After unsaddling Owa, I loved him up big time. I so wanted this to work!

The next four or five sessions in the little rectangle were fruitful. I did progressively more as we both relaxed and trusted each other at a higher level. I concentrated at first on very simple tasks- with his head to the side part way, I asked him to simply step his hind quarters over in each direction. I helped him work through his impulsive starts forward until with the slightest suggestion, he could move forward in a calm and rational manner. Simply standing and softly giving his head in each direction was an accomplishment at this stage. And we did lots of figure 8s as he changed eyes and directions over and over and became progressively more trusting and relaxed in the process.
In the final two sessions I introduced my wand with the plastic bag on the end as well as a length of heavy cotton rope. Now we had done plastic bag and rope treatment on the ground off and on for several years, so he was by no means terrified. But from the saddle, well this was a very big test for the Owyhee. And he made it with flying colors! Before it was over I was waving that bag with gusto as Owa moved calmly around the pen. He as well accepted the heavy cotton rope draped behind his back legs and rump as he walked confidently around our make-shift area that mysteriously seemed to grow larger along with his budding confidence.

Jim and I designed one end of this little pen to move. So as Owa became more trustworthy and relaxed, the pen miraculously grew to allow less confinement as Jim slowly enlarged the small area. And it worked!

Over our final breakfast, Jim and I brainstormed additional ideas and challenges that I could present to Owa. The only limit was my imagination and a clearer picture emerged as this horse, which had to this date been my greatest challenge, very clearly said to me in his unspoken manner, “Bring it on.” And I did.

Owa the Pack Horse

My big thrill at my ranch in Idaho is riding into Yellowstone National Park. And my dream at that time was to be riding Lakota into the wilds of Yellowstone as the trusty Owa carried the gear. Not only is this a wonderful way to travel in style, but it does wonders for a horse’s demeanor. Schlepping camping and cooking gear with plenty of smells and sounds is a growth experience not to be underestimated. So my next hurdle was teaching Owa to carry my panniers, first empty, then with progressively more gear and weight. From first carrying a blue tarp, we progressed to the canvas panniers. Yes he was quite impulsive at first, starting and stopping abruptly. But I pushed him through the sticky places and supported him endlessly and within a few days we were touring the neighborhood as he carried the pack saddle and bags filled with all kinds of objects from my garage. Leading Owa as I rode Lakota, we’d visit neighbors and stop and eat grass and just have a merry old time of it. And he as a champ. Something had changed dramatically. He had suddenly conquered a great deal of his fear and his confidence was just exploding to the good. Time for a real pack trip.

A Week in the Park

Toward the end of August I found the time to take my boys camping. Or better said, my boys took me camping in Yellowstone for a week. Owa carried all the gear and was an absolute champ. Seemingly he’d been just waiting for this moment his whole life. The horse was just so happy to have a job and be a contributing member of our trio. At our first camp-site, once unpacked, I allowed Owa to run free. He must have run circles through the vast meadow grasses off and on for a good hour as Lakota grazed quietly, picketed to a log. Lakota had done this dozens of times, so knew the routine well and was a great mentor for the young wild one. My heart sang beautiful songs as I watched my young son exude shear exuberance for life itself. He’d come over to visit me as I set up my tent or prepared a meal or quietly read in the shade. His curiosity and joi de vie were astounding.

Riding out of our second camp site we had a morning of adventure that included a river crossing. Owa had obediently carried the pack saddle over a good-sized creek on the way in, but crossing this river on his own proved to be a real challenge. Lakota and I eased down the bank onto a firm beach of dark sand at the water’s edge. But Owa was nervous about the water, mud, and puddles and raced back and forth along the bank of the river, worried about his friends leaving him. However we didn’t leave for long. Lakota and I walked about half way across the fifty yard ford and stopped. Lakota drank deeply from the cool waters that rushed past his knees. He struck the water playfully with his front legs anxious to move on. All the while Owa had been just flying along the edge of the river, whinnying with worry. Once we were back to his side of the river, we did a couple of circles until Owa was following us and again we headed for the river. This time with only a little hesitation, Owa stayed with us. About two-thirds of the way across, I stopped Lakota. Again he drank half dozen deep gulps and Owa did the same. Suddenly Owa began playing with the swift current. Pawing with his front feet, he splashed water all over us with absolute glee and a hint of impishness in his eyes. The horse was just so proud of himself. At his level he was living life at its fullest. His best two friends in the world were here enjoying this glorious moment with him and he reveled in it BIG TIME!

We crossed the river, and then rode up the valley several miles encountering wooden bridges, small creeks, campsites, and steep rock-strewn trails. Then we found just what I’d been searching for, berries. Late August is berry season in the park. If you know where to look, there are abundant raspberries, salmon berries, service berries, choke cherries, and even tart gooseberries. I tied Lakota as Owa and I grazed. On the way home when we encountered the wooden bridge that Owa had so deftly avoided earlier, he crossed it all on his own. Right then and there I knew he had entered a whole new plateau in his evolvement.

Our final campsite for the week was about an hour’s walk and typically a moose infested journey; and that did worry me. A terrified horse running full tilt with a load of gear isn’t my idea of fun, and I’d witnessed some serious melt-downs in years past. But we lucked out. Nary a moose. We did encounter a family of young grouse that exploded noisily into the air. Owa did take notice, but did not spook and that did surprise me. He was developing a wonderful assured calmness that was eking down into his whole being.

We had three wonderful days at this final camp-site, that is, until I awoke on the second morning. Relief only comes in the morning when both horses are accounted for. Well at about 7:00 a.m. when I peeked out my tent, there was not a horse to be found. I typically kept just one tied as the other grazed. This is easiest on the land. Tied, picketed, high-lined, and even hobbled horses are very destructive to the land. Generally horses don’t leave each other. So with one horse tied the other seldom ventures very far. But Owa was reveling in adventure and Lakota was concerned about Owa’s independence and prolonged absences. As Lakota nervously circled during the wee hours, somehow the knot untied itself and off the two went on yet another adventure; but this one was unplanned.

Wolves a Plenty

Wolves were re-introduced some dozen years ago into Yellowstone. No one could anticipate how quickly they would propagate. Suffice to say the wolves thrived as they honed their hunting skills on the abundant game. I heard a pack delightfully howling their songs that signify a successful hunt that very morning. With one horse on a lead that could hang up on anything and one very naive horse, my heart was in my throat. Horses are absolutely fair game for wolves. While there has never been a recorded attack on a human, I wasn’t so sure about my horses and feared the worse.

To be continued . . .

Frank Bell and his accredited instructors have been helping horses with their people problems for several decades. He writes interesting and educational stories about these horses and their challenges. He also helps people better understand how to communicate with these magnificent creatures by answering their vexing questions on his website.

Frank has designed a logical set of exercises that immediately places both parties on higher ground . . . without the need for a round pen. Suddenly both parties are riding in confidence instead of fear.

Frank Bell's 7-Step Safety System (7-SSS) has been featured in horse magazines and e-zines throughout the world including a three-part series in Western Horseman magazine. Frank's video " Discover the Horse You Never Knew" fully outlines " the system" and is available in the audio/video library that includes thirteen works.

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