A personal blog about eventing, horses & life in the middle of it all

Finding balance when the reins and stirrups are gone

There is a particular kind of honesty in a riding lesson where the reins are tied up and the stirrups are removed. Without familiar straps beneath your feet or leather in your hands, there is nowhere to hide a crooked hip, a braced knee, or a habit of using the reins to solve every small wobble. The exercise can feel exposing at first, yet it often reveals more about the horse-and-rider partnership than a polished schooling session does.

For event riders, that honesty matters across all three phases. A balanced seat helps a horse stay relaxed in dressage, gives a rider security over a show jump, and becomes a practical safety tool on cross-country. A bareback or no-stirrups lesson is not a punishment session. Done thoughtfully, it is a way to improve body awareness, confidence, communication, and trust without turning the horse into a gymnasium prop.

Why removing the equipment changes the lesson

Reins and stirrups provide useful support, but they can also allow small problems to remain unnoticed. A rider may grip with the lower leg while leaning on the reins, or use the stirrups to push themselves into a position that looks correct from the outside. Take those supports away and the body has to organise itself around the horse’s movement.

The first few minutes can be surprisingly quiet. The horse’s walk becomes clearer through the pelvis, and every shift in the rider’s weight is easier to feel. If the rider tips forward, the horse may hurry. If the shoulders collapse, the contact may become inconsistent. These are valuable pieces of information, especially for someone who usually focuses on keeping their hands steady or remembering the next movement.

A good instructor will keep the work progressive. The lesson might begin on a circle at walk, move into short periods of sitting trot, and include frequent breaks. There is no prize for lasting ten minutes with no stirrups if the rider is tense and the horse is uncomfortable. The aim is a better connection, not a heroic demonstration of toughness.

Building a more independent seat

An independent seat allows the rider to follow the horse without accidentally pulling, kicking, or tipping with every stride. Removing stirrups encourages the hips to open and the legs to lengthen, while bareback work can sharpen the sense of where the horse’s back is lifting and lowering beneath the rider.

That does not mean forcing the heels down. Without stirrups, the leg should hang from a relaxed hip rather than being pushed into an artificial position. Many riders discover that their balance improves when they stop trying to look balanced. The shoulders soften, the breath returns, and the pelvis begins to follow instead of chasing the movement.

For an event rider, this is especially useful when the pace changes. A horse can lengthen in the dressage arena, land from a fence, or travel down a cross-country line without the rider losing the centre of gravity. The same principles apply whether the lesson takes place at a private agistment property outside Geelong or at a busy training centre near Werribee.

Core strength has a role, but this is not simply an abdominal workout. The deep muscles around the pelvis, back, and ribs work through subtle adjustments. A rider who learns to stabilise the trunk without stiffening can offer clearer aids and remain more secure when the horse steps sideways, spooks at a plastic bag, or changes rhythm unexpectedly.

Learning to communicate without pulling

When the reins are unavailable, riders have to become more aware of weight aids, leg position, breathing, and intention. That can be confronting for someone who normally shortens the reins whenever a horse becomes strong. The lesson exposes whether the rider is influencing the tempo or merely managing it with the hands.

At walk, an instructor might ask for a halt using a tall posture, a quiet exhale, and a gentle closing of the seat. At trot, the rider may practise transitions from changes in breathing and balance before adding a conventional rein aid. These exercises do not make reins unnecessary. They teach the rider to use them as part of a conversation rather than as the entire conversation.

The horse often responds positively to this clarity. A rider who is no longer gripping or hanging on may feel less threatening, and the horse can move with a freer back. That response is not automatic; some horses become uncertain when the usual contact changes. The instructor must adjust the exercise to suit the individual horse, keeping the reins available if safety or confidence requires them.

This is where partnership becomes practical rather than sentimental. The horse is giving feedback through rhythm, tension, and posture. The rider’s job is to notice it early. A quiet tail, regular steps, and a softening through the back tell a different story from rushing, bracing, or repeated head tossing.

Confidence grows through manageable discomfort

A no-stirrups lesson can stir up nerves that have little to do with physical balance. Riders who are comfortable jumping a metre fence may feel oddly vulnerable sitting a few strides of trot without support. That reaction is worth respecting. Confidence is built by meeting discomfort in small, controlled pieces rather than pretending it is absent.

For some riders, the best starting point is a neck strap, a lead rope attached for the instructor to hold, or a steady schoolmaster. For others, the work may begin with one stirrup removed, then both, before returning to normal tack. A calm horse and a well-fenced arena create a sensible safety net, especially when the lesson is being held during an Australian summer and everyone is already working around heat, flies, and a hardening surface.

The emotional benefit can be just as significant as the physical one. Once a rider realises they can rebalance after a stumble or sit through a change of rhythm, ordinary schooling problems become less dramatic. A missed distance at a local horse trial is still disappointing, but it no longer feels like proof that the rider cannot cope.

I have found that these sessions can reset the internal chatter. Instead of thinking about whether the horse looks round or whether the next movement will be perfect, the rider concentrates on breathing, feeling, and responding. That calmer attention often carries into competition preparation, where nerves can make people rush their warm-up and over-ride a horse that needed patience.

Carrying the lesson into eventing

The value becomes clearest when the rider returns to ordinary tack. Stirrups can be picked up with less dependence on them, and the reins can be held with a more elastic contact. The rider may notice that a transition is cleaner because the body is organised first, or that a turn to a show jump no longer requires a last-second pull.

Cross-country provides an obvious test. A secure seat does not mean locking the knee or clinging to the neck. It means allowing the horse to move underneath the rider while remaining able to adjust balance on approach, over the fence, and on landing. No-stirrups work can help develop that adaptability, provided it is supported by appropriate jumping lessons and a suitable level of fitness.

It can also improve the less glamorous parts of competition day. A rider who has practised staying centred when the horse shifts may cope better with a tense warm-up ring, a bell going unexpectedly, or a horse that becomes distracted near the start box. At an Australian event, where conditions may shift from chilly morning dew to glaring afternoon sun, staying physically quiet helps preserve energy.

Planning still matters. A balance lesson should sit alongside regular flatwork, jumping, conditioning, and rest rather than replacing them. Checking the competition schedule can help riders place a confidence-building session well before a horse trial, rather than experimenting with a demanding exercise the week before cross-country.

Making the exercise fair for horse and rider

The horse’s welfare sets the boundaries. Bareback work is not appropriate for every horse or every rider, and a horse with a sore back, unusual conformation, or a history of discomfort may need a different approach. A properly fitted saddle, qualified instructor, and sensible duration are more important than proving a point.

Rider fitness also deserves an honest assessment. Sitting trot without stirrups can load the back and hips, particularly when the rider becomes tired and starts gripping. Short repetitions with walk breaks are usually more productive than a long stretch completed through strain. Instructors should watch the horse’s back as carefully as the rider’s position.

The setting makes a difference in Australia. An early-morning lesson may be kinder than a midday session in Queensland humidity, while riders in the Adelaide Hills may need to account for a cool, windy arena that makes horses look at every corner. Dust, uneven footing, water availability, and access to shade are practical considerations, not minor details.

It helps to keep a simple record after the lesson: what felt difficult, when the horse softened, which exercise improved balance, and whether any soreness appeared later. Riders juggling work, family, agistment chores, and Pony Club commitments can use a basic project list to organise follow-up jobs such as booking the instructor, checking tack, and allowing recovery time. A plan keeps useful insight from disappearing into the next busy week.

The strongest lesson may leave the rider feeling slightly humbled and much more capable. There may be no dramatic before-and-after moment. Instead, the changes appear in small places: a softer halt, a steadier leg, a horse that walks out of the arena with a swinging back, or a rider who can breathe through a mistake. Those details build the kind of reliability that matters when the flags are up and the day becomes unpredictable.

Book a suitable session with an instructor who understands your horse, remove support gradually, and treat every calm, balanced stride as progress. Then carry that feeling into your next schooling ride, your next lesson, and eventually your next start box.