A Bit of Tack

Ever since I was about eight, I have been horse crazy. Before that, it was alligators and the duck-billed platypus.

Don’t ask me why.

Because my affinity had grown so strong, and there was a consistent lack of familial funds to pay for lessons, I decided to “volunteer” at the local barn.

Make no mistake—this is child labor at its finest, but nothing, especially OSHA and the law, could stop me.

I remember the barn owner and trainer, Mary, showing me to the school horse tack room.

In the center of the cherry wood-paneled room with dirty green carpet stood a heap of tack and bridle parts about three feet high.

“Get to work putting those bridles back together now that they’re clean.” She knew this was an insurmountable hill for me to climb, and I would likely fail.

I felt like there had been a miscommunication somewhere along the way, but I wasn’t about to let my lack of know-how thwart my first barn job.

Then, like a shining beacon of hope, high up on the wall, I spotted a single Collegiate Hunter bridle fully assembled.

I used that as my template, and I got to work.

Not only was this tack confusing and hard to work with, but it was all mixed together. I had to sort bridles while I was assembling them.

Sure, the odd figure 8 or standing martingale took me by surprise, but I finished that whole pile in about two hours.

She was stunned and taken aback to see my progress upon her return.

I looked at her hopefully, wishing to God and everything holy that she would utter those few sacred words to me, “Now, do you want to ride?” But alas, no such exchange took place. Instead, I got a pat on the shoulder and a “Nice job.”

I would frequent that barn for years, hanging over rails and watching everything the horses were doing and everything the people were doing with them.

Even after a short absence, I returned there as a young adult with my own horse and relished the memories that the old tack room still held.

Since that day, I have happily assembled bridles, knowing wholeheartedly that they are where I got my start in horses.

That’s also probably why I try to offer folks the snaps on the browbands: I know what a pain it is to change a browband constantly.

But still, if you ever need someone to switch out your bit, I’m happy to do it for you and offer you service with a smile.