Why I Always Carry A Spare Pair Of Gloves

There are some things I can leave behind when I head to a horse trial: the extra hairbrush, the second pair of breeches, and at least one item I packed with complete optimism and never touch. Riding gloves are different. I always carry a spare pair, even when the forecast looks kind and the programme appears manageable.

That habit came from enough damp warm-ups, dusty gear bags, sweaty palms, sudden showers, and badly timed glove failures to make the lesson stick. A fresh pair can change how secure I feel in the saddle, particularly when the day includes dressage, show jumping, and cross-country. Gloves are small, but they sit directly between my hands and the reins, which makes them part of the communication between horse and rider.

The First Pair Never Has An Easy Day

A competition glove has a busy life. It gets pulled on before dressage, rubbed against a lead rope while I walk the horse around, tucked into a pocket during tack changes, and possibly soaked in sweat before the first phase is finished. If I am lucky, it dries a little before show jumping. If I am not, it carries the smell and texture of the entire morning with it.

At home, I may ride in an older pair without thinking too much about it. At a competition, my hands are working constantly. I am adjusting a rein, checking a buckle, opening a gate, holding a lead rope, and trying to keep my fingers quiet when my nerves want to make everything tighter. A thin patch or loose seam becomes much more noticeable when I am asking for accuracy.

This is especially true at Australian events where the day can begin crisp and end hot. A winter morning at Werribee may start with cold fingers, while a Queensland competition can have me wishing for shade before the first horse has entered the arena. Dust, sunscreen, humidity, and the occasional shower all make a pair of gloves feel older very quickly.

Wet Gloves Change More Than Comfort

Rain is the obvious reason to pack a spare, but wet gloves are not merely uncomfortable. Once the fabric becomes saturated, the grip can feel different and the material may stretch in places I do not expect. The reins can slide through my fingers, or the glove can bunch under the palm when I close my hand.

A sudden shower at an ag showground is enough to create this problem. The arenas may drain well, but the walk between the float, warm-up, secretary’s office, and wash bay can still involve puddles and wet rails. I have learned that putting gloves in a zip-lock bag inside my riding kit protects them from the general dampness that seems to find every item in a truck or gear bag.

The spare is useful even when rain never arrives. A horse can rub its head against my shoulder, a water bucket can tip, or I can wash my hands after applying coat conditioner and forget that the gloves are still in my pocket. When the first pair becomes clammy, a dry replacement gives me a clean start rather than forcing me to ride while distracted by my hands.

Nerves Make Small Problems Feel Bigger

Rider nerves have a way of magnifying minor inconveniences. A glove that feels slightly tight can become the only thing I notice while waiting for the bell. A seam pressing into my finger can make me change my rein contact. Then I spend the next movement wondering whether my hands look tense, which usually makes them feel even less natural.

Good gloves cannot remove competition nerves, but they remove one unnecessary decision. I do not have to tolerate a damp palm or wonder whether the grip will last until the end of cross-country. I can replace the gloves, take a breath, and return my attention to my horse.

That sense of preparation matters because soft, steady hands are built through feel rather than force. I have revisited plenty of advice about rein contact, including this helpful piece on soft hands advice, whenever I find myself gripping instead of following. The right gloves support that work by giving me confidence without encouraging me to clutch the reins.

A Spare Pair Belongs In The Whole Competition Kit

I keep my replacement gloves somewhere easy to reach, rather than buried beneath spare breeches and a grooming bag. Usually they sit in the top pocket of my competition backpack, inside a small waterproof pouch. That means I can find them from the side of the arena without unpacking half the contents of the float.

The pouch also holds a few other small essentials: hair ties, plasters, lip balm, sunscreen, and a packet of tissues. I like practical systems that make busy mornings less chaotic, and I have found more useful ideas for keeping everyday belongings manageable through simple packing ideas. The principle applies at a horse trial too: give small items a proper home and they are far less likely to vanish when time is short.

I pack the second pair before leaving home, not after arriving at the venue. In Australia, travel to an event can mean an early drive down the freeway, a long trip between regional towns, or a pre-dawn departure with the horse already on the float. By the time I arrive at SIEC, Boneo, or a local pony club grounds, I do not want to discover that the spare gloves are still drying beside the back door.

The Right Backup Is More Useful Than A Random One

A spare pair should be familiar, not a brand-new experiment. I want gloves that fit the way my riding gloves fit, with enough flexibility through the fingers and a grip that feels predictable on the reins. Competition morning is not the time to test a different size, fastening system, or fabric.

I also check the condition of the backup from time to time. Gloves left in a hot car can become stiff, while gloves stored damp can develop an unpleasant smell or lose their shape. I wash them according to the care instructions and let them dry properly before returning them to the bag. A spare that is cracked, stretched, or missing a tab is only pretending to be useful.

Sizing can be surprisingly inconsistent between brands, so I prefer to buy replacements when I already know the model works for me. Local tack shops are helpful for this because I can try gloves on before buying, though online equestrian retailers are convenient when I need a familiar pair sent out to a regional address. I check delivery timing carefully around major events, since a parcel that arrives after the weekend does not solve Friday’s problem.

There is also a practical Australian consideration: gloves need to suit the conditions where I ride most often. A lightweight summer pair is welcome during a hot arvo in New South Wales, while a slightly warmer option makes winter mornings in Victoria more pleasant. In dusty areas, a darker colour hides some of the arena dust, although no glove stays immaculate for long when horses, floats, and dry yards are involved.

The habit has become part of my pre-competition check, alongside hoof boots, number bibs, safety pins, water, and the horse’s paperwork. I do not carry spare gloves because every event goes wrong. I carry them because busy horse days are unpredictable, and a small backup can preserve concentration when the schedule is already moving quickly.

The same logic applies at home. A torn glove during a schooling session can turn a useful ride into an uncomfortable one, particularly when I am working on transitions, contact, or a new exercise. Keeping an older but serviceable pair in the grooming tote means I can finish sensibly rather than spending the rest of the ride protecting one hand.

There is something reassuring about opening my bag and seeing that second pair waiting there. It represents preparation without drama: no grand strategy, just one small decision made before the pressure starts. When I am standing outside the dressage arena, listening for my rider number and feeling the familiar flutter of nerves, that bit of preparation helps me settle.

So the spare gloves stay in the bag. They go to lessons, clinics, jump days, horse trials, and ordinary rides where I expect nothing more exciting than a few good transitions. Sometimes they remain untouched for months. Then rain arrives, a seam gives way, or my first pair becomes too slippery, and I am grateful I packed them.

Pack a clean, familiar backup with your riding gear before the next early start. It takes almost no space, costs far less than a disrupted ride, and may be the small piece of preparation that lets you keep your hands quiet and your attention where it belongs: with your horse.