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Thunderbird Equine Equine professional offering c**t starting, rope/cow horse training, consignments and equine wisdom.

Between horse shows, I get the opportunity to put my horses to work in the real world, and I don't know that there's a b...
10/24/2026

Between horse shows, I get the opportunity to put my horses to work in the real world, and I don't know that there's a better place to find out what you've actually accomplished with one than out in the pasture with a job that needs doing.

I was visiting with a mentor recently about rate, and somewhere in that conversation, I felt that familiar spark for training come back around. It's a peculiar thing, how one little morsel of knowledge can change the way you look at a hundred things you've done before, and suddenly you're itching to get horseback and see where else that understanding might prove useful. The more I learn, the more opportunities I find to put that knowledge to work, and God's honest truth, a broke horse makes ranch work a hell of a lot easier.

I was visiting with a prospective client not long after, a gentleman who knew plenty about getting a c**t started, and he mentioned that teaching one to open a gate often involved banging the gate against the horse's side. Now, I'm not going to tell another man how to do his business, and I certainly don't presume to know everything there is to know about starting a horse, but I couldn't help thinking about how much trouble a little preparation might save.

Because a gate isn't really about a gate. It's about whether you can put a horse's feet where they belong, whether he'll stay there when something moves beside him, whether he understands how to yield without becoming worried about what you're asking. And if you've taken the time to establish those things beforehand, the gate becomes just another place to use what he already knows.

I suppose that's what has me so taken with this work. The realization that all these little things we're particular about in the arena aren't little things at all once you get outside of it. They're the difference between getting a job done and having to fight your way through it.

And the more I learn, the more convinced I become that good horsemanship ought to make the hard work easier, not give a horse more hardship to endure.

I've become a little addicted to being better than I was before. Not necessarily better than the next person or the next...
10/22/2026

I've become a little addicted to being better than I was before. Not necessarily better than the next person or the next horse, but better than the version of myself that showed up yesterday, and I've found that the more I learn, the more painfully aware I become of just how much I still don't know.

This year has been an incredible challenge, bringing a young horse along in a discipline that asks for so many different things from the same animal. To be quiet and deliberate one moment, quick and capable the next, to have enough confidence to make a decision and enough understanding to wait for one. And somewhere in the middle of trying to develop all those qualities in him, I've been forced to take a pretty hard look at the qualities I still need to develop in myself.

There's something humbling about realizing that the horse standing underneath you can only be as good as the understanding you've managed to give him, and that sometimes the thing standing between where you are and where you want to be ain't the horse at all.

I don't reckon I'll ever get tired of chasing that standard. The trouble with getting better is that you start to see just how much better you could be.

There is a version of ranch life that photographs beautifully, and then there is the version where you are changing shoe...
10/20/2026

There is a version of ranch life that photographs beautifully, and then there is the version where you are changing shoes in the barn aisle with three dogs underfoot and a tractor parked behind you, which I personally think, also photographs beautifully.

I've always found it interesting that some of the same people who wouldn't dream of turning a calf out without its vacci...
10/20/2026

I've always found it interesting that some of the same people who wouldn't dream of turning a calf out without its vaccinations are also some of the most skeptical people you'll meet when it comes to vaccinating themselves.

And I don't bring that up to make a judgment about anybody's convictions, because I think there's a whole lot more to that contradiction than meets the eye.

Ranchers spend their lives making decisions about risk. They weigh the cost of prevention against the cost of losing an animal, they trust what they've seen work, they remember what hasn't, and they develop a pretty healthy suspicion of anyone who claims to know their business better than they do.

Maybe it's a question of trust. Maybe it's the difference between having a relationship with the veterinarian who's been coming to your place for twenty years and trying to make sense of advice coming from an institution you've never had much reason to trust. Or maybe we're simply more willing to take preventive measures when the responsibility for another living thing rests squarely on our shoulders.

I don't pretend to know the answer, but I think it's worth considering how differently we approach the same idea of prevention depending on who we're trying to protect.

There's a lot to admire about the responsibility ranch people take for the animals entrusted to them. I just wonder sometimes why that same sense of stewardship can become so complicated when we turn it toward ourselves.

Sometimes you come home with the award you were hoping for, and sometimes you come home with the *Hard Luck Award.*Color...
09/14/2026

Sometimes you come home with the award you were hoping for, and sometimes you come home with the *Hard Luck Award.*

Colorado Top Hand Cowgirl was a little bit of the latter for Bet He's Rebellious and me this year.

I walked out of the house without my hat one morning and had to borrow one from a mentor, which probably should have been my first indication of how things were going to go, and then proceeded to give a cow flight lessons during the ranch cutting. Later during the one woman sort we had what felt like the start of one of our best runs of the weekend. We sorted our first cow in *16 seconds,* and I had the option to sit there, hold that cow and take the time, or go back into the herd and see if we could get two more.

I went back.

In hindsight, I wish I'd stayed safe and taken the time, because our steer eventually made it back through to the herd and turned a really promising run into a no time. But I also know myself well enough to know why I made the choice I did. This year has been so much about learning to expect more from my horses and, probably just as importantly, learning when they're ready for me to ask for it. Sometimes that means you find out exactly how much is there, and sometimes you find out where the edge still is.

We also managed a *23-second barrel pattern with no penalties and, perhaps more importantly, no bruised shins,* so I'm counting that one as a win.

And underneath all the hard luck, I came away really proud of Bet He's Rebellious.

This horse is becoming more capable and more versatile every time I take him somewhere. We're asking him to ranch ride, trail, rein, cut cattle, work cattle and then turn around and do the kind of things a top hand competition asks of one, and I think sometimes I get so focused on everything I still want to improve that I forget how much horse he has already become. There were plenty of things this weekend I would do differently if I could run them again, but there were also moments where I could feel how far we've come, and that's worth something too.

But the part of this weekend that will probably stick with me the longest really doesn't have much to do with my horse.

I've been fortunate enough to watch Mikah Wysocki and Stephanie Ewoldt-Bacca build Colorado Top Hand Cowgirl over the last few years into something incredibly special. I respect both of these women immensely, and every year this event gives me the opportunity not only to compete, but to meet more women and girls who remind me just how many incredible cowgirls there are in this industry. It is competitive without losing its sense of community, challenging without becoming intimidating, and genuinely welcoming to the women and girls who show up willing to try.

So when Mikah started describing the Hard Luck Award and said something along the lines of, "this goes to someone who we know is very good, but who just had a run of tough luck, and we want her to know that she is seen," I don't know that I was prepared for how much that would mean to me.

Because being seen is a funny thing.

We spend so much of our time in this industry looking at what went wrong, the cow we should have held, the decision we wish we could make again, the half point we left somewhere in a maneuver, the things we're going home to fix on Monday, that sometimes it takes somebody else reminding you that they can see the work underneath all of it.

And I am incredibly grateful to be surrounded by women who do exactly that.

Women who compete hard and still build each other up, who recognize good horsemanship even when the score sheet may not, who make room for the next generation of girls coming behind us, and who have created an environment where you can have a weekend full of hard luck and somehow still drive home feeling encouraged, albeit tired.

I don't know that I can adequately explain what Mikah, Stephanie and all of the women behind Colorado Top Hand Cowgirl are building, but I know our industry is better because they're building it.

So I'll take my Hard Luck Award, laugh about the forgotten hat that will now forever live in the trailer(sorry Travis Hamblen,) think about that 16-second cow for probably longer than I should, and go home grateful for another opportunity to expect a little more from my horse and a little more from myself.

09/12/2026

What clients rarely see when they pay for training.

The ride is the easiest part to recognize as training because it has a beginning and an end, and usually there is something visible being asked of the horse, but I think much of the responsibility exists around the ride, in noticing how the horse walks out, what their expression looks like, whether their body feels the same as it did yesterday, and whether the plan I made before entering the barn is still the right plan once the horse is standing in front of me.

Training is asking questions, but it is also deciding which question is appropriate today, how clearly it needs to be explained, how much improvement is enough, and whether another repetition will help the horse understand or only satisfy my desire to finish something.

Sometimes the right decision is to expect more. Sometimes it is to simplify the work, return to a foundation I thought was already solid, or quit when the improvement is still small. Occasionally the best decision I make for a horse is deciding not to ride them at all.

Then there is the work that comes afterward, cooling them out, checking their legs, caring for the equipment, putting them away comfortable, and carrying what they told me today into what I ask tomorrow.

A client may never see every one of those moments, and I do not think they should have to manage them from a distance. The horse experiences them, though, and the horse eventually reflects the quality and consistency of the decisions being made when no one else is watching.

09/09/2026

I do not necessarily use the flag to teach a horse not to spook.

A large part of my program is built around maintaining a horse’s attention while something outside of me is asking for it, because the real world is rarely going to become quiet enough for a horse to focus without competition. There will be ropes swinging, flags waving, cattle moving, dogs working, gates opening, other horses leaving, and eventually something I did not think to prepare them for at all.

I do not expect a horse to stop noticing those things. I want them to notice, think about what they are seeing, and remain available to me anyway.

Following is one of the first ways I begin building that confidence. A young horse can follow the end of a rope as it swings, then a flag, then eventually a cutting flag or a cow, and begin learning that movement does not always require them to leave. They can approach it, track it, understand it, and still allow me to influence where they put their feet.

That last part matters to me. The flag may have their eyes, but can I still move the shoulders? Can I ask them to rate without losing their thought? Can they remain aware of what is happening without handing their entire body over to it?

I think we sometimes describe confidence as though the horse no longer sees a reason to be afraid, but I am not sure that is always what confidence looks like. Sometimes they still see it. They still feel the impulse to leave. They simply have enough understanding, and enough trust in the conversation between us, to choose something else.

The opportunity to spook does not have to disappear for the horse to learn that they do not have to take it.

AttentionThese photos are not of horses in the program, but they show something I think about in nearly every horse I wo...
09/08/2026

Attention

These photos are not of horses in the program, but they show something I think about in nearly every horse I work, because a large part of my program is not removing external stimuli, it is teaching a horse that they can notice what is happening around them without giving their entire mind and body away to it.

I do not necessarily want a horse that never considers spooking, and I am not sure confidence comes from convincing them there is nothing worth noticing. Horses are aware of movement by nature. They are going to see the rope swinging, the flag waving, the cattle moving, the gate opening, the dog coming through, and eventually they are going to encounter something I did not prepare them for at all.

What I want is for them to have the opportunity to leave mentally or physically, and begin choosing not to.

I start working on that from day one. Sometimes that means asking a young horse to follow a rope as it swings, sometimes it means following a stock flag, and eventually it may mean tracking the cutting flag or staying with me while a cow pulls their attention somewhere else. Following gives them somewhere constructive to put that curiosity, and it can turn something that once created uncertainty into something they understand how to approach.

The goal is not to make the outside world disappear. It is to help the horse remain connected to me while it is still happening, because attention that only exists in a quiet pen with nothing else competing for it is not quite the same as attention a horse has learned to carry into the rest of their life.

They can see it. They can think about it. They can even be unsure of it. I just want them to learn that they do not have to leave.

09/06/2026

What earns a permanent place in my trailer?

Not necessarily the product with the best packaging or the newest thing I have been sent, but the things I continue reaching for when I am responsible for getting client horses down the road, helping them feel prepared to work, and making it through a long day myself.

Draw It Out Concentrate comes because the last thing I want a client horse thinking about when it is time to work is the soreness and stiffness that can come with hauling.

Professional’s Choice X2Cool Sports Medicine Boots come because the suspensory ligaments may be capable of handling an incredible amount of force, but that does not make them invincible, and support and protection matter when we are asking horses to perform.

And my Westech Outriders come because I am at the point in my life where I want to be in comfortable shoes twenty-four hours a day, except for the hours I apparently insist on riding in boots.

All three have earned their space by being genuinely useful, which is about the highest compliment I can give anything that goes in my trailer.

09/05/2026

The finished clip does not show every time we misunderstood each other, where we settled, or all the days when the improvement was small enough that it would have been easy to believe nothing had changed.

It only shows the moment all of that ordinary work finally became visible.

Address

Ault, CO

Opening Hours

Monday 8am - 7pm
Tuesday 8am - 7pm
Wednesday 8am - 5pm
Thursday 8am - 7pm
Friday 9am - 5pm
Sunday 9am - 5pm

Telephone

+19705731515

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