A Lifetime With Arabians, Printed in Arabian Horse Times

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A LIFETIME WITH HORSES, by Sheila Varian

A Lifetime W ith Ar Ronteza, Part I

abians

by Sh eil a Va ria n There have been ma ny great horses at Va ria n Arabians, and some, especially old gelding by *W our sta llions, that itez II. I rea lly lik have been par ticularly associ ed him, and he wa right on a lot of cou ated with the nam s nts, but I had it in e Va ria n.

But the first, the one that mind that I wante a 3-y put me on the ma ear d -ol d to sta rt and p, was a little bay we preferred a ma mare named Ronte re we could eventually breed. za.

Ronteza was my sec ond Arabian. My first was Farlotta, who was purchase d at the age of 2 aft er an early life of neglect. She was the first horse I ever tra ined, finished and showed in a spa de bit. I was just 15 when she came to me, and my neighbor, Syd Ma ry Spencer, was my teacher and mento r as Farlotta and I learned together. By the time Farlotta was 6, she was winning consistent ly in western pleasure competitions and starting to win in the stock horse classes (now reining). I was rea dy for a second stock horse/cow horse to start in training.

One of our next sto ps was in Portervi lle at Donald Jones’ ranch. Mr. Jones wa s a wonderf ul man, and he’ d bred some ver y good ho rses. He had a sm all bay mare by *Witez II, 2 years old, that caught ou r interest. She was just nice, ver y cleanl y-made, sor t of un obtrusive —a solid color, with just a little bit of white on one foot and a tiny star. She was a year younger than I thought I wanted, but she had a dam named Ronna, who had been a successful hackamore horse.

So I was rea lly interested in the 2-year-old filly—not so much because of *Witez II, but because In the 1950s, Ronna had been Ronteza (*Witez II x Ronna, by Farone Ca lifornia was successfully shown k). coming into its ow in the hackamore n as a center of Ar abian horse breeding. Two of by the well-k nown horseman Ora Rh the better sta llions od es, were the Polish who also showed *Witez II and *Lotn and trained open reined cow ho ik, who had been rses. Mom and I we rescued by General George Patton’s me nt to lunch and trie d to decide what to n at the end of Wo do. The filly, Ronte rld War II in the famous raid that rec za, was at the top of our price ran laimed the Spanish ge, which was $75 Riding School ’s Lipizzaner broodma 0. res. Once in Ameri can hands, *Witez II and *Lotnik we Af ter much debate re sent to the Kello , we went back to gg Remount Statio in Ca lifornia, and Donald Jones’ n ranch and bought *Witez II especially Ronteza. She was ma de his mark as a sire. Among the the first horse that I ever sig ned early horses my mo a check for, and I ther and I saw wh we went looking for was so ner vous en that I wrote a dep stock horse candid osit check for $4.50 ates was a 4-yearrat her tha n the appropriate $450.

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A Lifetime With Arabians Ronteza, Part I

by Sheila Varian There have been many great horses at Varian Arabians, and some, especially our stallions, that have been particularly associated with the name Varian. But the first, the one that put me on the map, was a little bay mare named Ronteza.

old gelding by *Witez II. I really liked him, and he was right on a lot of counts, but I had it in mind that I wanted a 3-year-old to start and we preferred a mare we could eventually breed.

One of our next stops was in Porterville at Donald Jones’ ranch. Mr. Jones was a wonderful man, and he’d bred some very good horses. He had a small bay mare by *Witez II, 2 years old, that caught our interest. She was just nice, very cleanly-made, sort of unobtrusive—a solid color, with just a little bit of white on one foot and a tiny star. She was a year younger than I thought I wanted, but she had a dam named Ronna, who had been a successful hackamore horse.

So I was really interested in the 2-year-old filly—not so much because of *Witez II, but because Ronna had been successfully shown Ronteza (*Witez II x Ronna, by Faronek). in the hackamore In the 1950s, by the well-known California was horseman Ora Rhodes, who also showed and trained coming into its own as a center of Arabian horse open reined cow horses. Mom and I went to lunch and breeding. Two of the better stallions were the Polish tried to decide what to do. The filly, Ronteza, was at the *Witez II and *Lotnik, who had been rescued by General top of our price range, which was $750.

George Patton’s men at the end of World War II in the famous raid that reclaimed the Spanish Riding School’s After much debate, we went back to Donald Jones’ Lipizzaner broodmares. Once in American hands, *Witez ranch and bought Ronteza. She was the first horse II and *Lotnik were sent to the Kellogg Remount Station that I ever signed a check for, and I was so nervous in California, and *Witez II especially made his mark as that I wrote a deposit check for $4.50 rather than the a sire. Among the early horses my mother and I saw when appropriate $450. we went looking for stock horse candidates was a 4-yearRonteza was my second Arabian. My first was Farlotta, who was purchased at the age of 2 after an early life of neglect. She was the first horse I ever trained, finished and showed in a spade bit. I was just 15 when she came to me, and my neighbor, Syd Mary Spencer, was my teacher and mentor as Farlotta and I learned together. By the time Farlotta was 6, she was winning consistently in western pleasure competitions and starting to win in the stock horse classes (now reining). I was ready for a second stock horse/cow horse to start in training.

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A Lifetime With Arabians

Sheila Varian and Ronteza.

My mother and I hauled our new filly home, and there she was, a sweet little bay, unobtrusive, very quiet filly. In those early days, she lived in Farlotta’s shadow because Farlotta and I were so close. Farlotta was the personality horse. Our house in Halcyon, where I was raised, was on an acre of land with no fences (it still looks the same today). Farlotta, even though there were no fences, wouldn’t leave the yard unless I was riding her. I could come out of the house and call, “Farlotta, go to your house,” and she would gallop over

to her little corral, which I left open so that she could come and go. From the apricot tree, I would break off a short stick and throw it into the air, and she would run over and pick it up, and then toss the stick around and wait for me to throw it again. Farlotta expressed all that personality only around me, however. As far as she was concerned, I had been the one to save her from the mistreatment, so it was always me that she attended to. She was simply mine, and I was hers.

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A Lifetime With Arabians Nearly a year later, the neglect of Farlotta’s childhood lack of care and worming caught up with her. She died with her head in my lap after 24 long hours, and her 2-year-old buddy Ronteza, standing close by, watched. Both Ronteza and I went into a real depression. I was devastated, and I didn’t even notice her for about a month. Finally, I began to realize that she was just standing in her corral, dispirited. I didn’t love her like I loved Farlotta; Ronteza didn’t do all of the charming things that Farlotta had done. Ronteza’s tendency was to stand back and watch with eyes of wonder, but not to participate.

When I turned her out in the yard as I had done with Farlotta, who would never leave home, Ronteza just quietly walked away. She didn’t come when called, didn’t run to her pen when I told her to; she was just there, just a little bay filly that watched but didn’t participate.

into view. For her, that was saying, “Please come, I need you.” Later still, when she was old, she would stand at the gate and give a low little huh-huh-huh-huh-huh that said she wanted me to come and do something.

But at the time, Ronteza was just there. It took me time to recognize who she was. As I started trailering her out to Syd’s and began to move cattle with her, I began to get a sense of who she was, which was just a very serious, kind and sweet horse that didn’t beg for treats and didn’t come when called.

She would have gotten the good citizenship award of a town because she was so conscientious.

I suppose “conscientious” was Ronteza’s middle name.

Syd Spencer was a rancher and a genuine horsewoman in the old vaquero style of riding and training.

It evolved in California, based Sheila Varian with the “conscientious” Ronteza. on the training of I don’t think you a horse through ever get over the the hackamore to the two-rein, and finally into a shanked tragedy of the death of horses you love. But there stood half-breed or spade bit. Much of this I had to pick up Ronteza, waiting, and so as she was nearing 3 years old, I on my own, as Syd wasn’t a show woman. But what a started to ride her. She didn’t do anything wrong; she didn’t horsewoman she was! As a teenager, to get comfortable shy, she never bucked. But yet, she didn’t do anything great. and quick using the bosal reins (the mecate, which are She was just a good little citizen. She didn’t smile when she reins made from a horse’s mane hair), rawhide reins and was ridden; she was willing, but not enthusiastic. At that bridle, I tied the two sets of reins to the end of my bed time, Ronteza didn’t nicker to me or show any great desire and practiced letting them slip and slide in and out of my to have me around. Later, when we had grown to be a team fingers, so that I could pick up the individual bosal rein and she was tied to the trailer at a show or in a box stall, or bridle rein easily, quickly and smoothly. No one told she would do her little low, throaty nicker when I came 198 | AR A BIAN HORSE TIMES

A Lifetime With Arabians me or showed me how to handle the two sets of reins. I learned by practicing, sitting on my bed.

I started riding Ronteza when I lived in the little town of Halcyon, a mile from the ocean. I had ridden Farlotta on Oceano Beach, and began riding Ronteza there too.

It seems I rode a million miles on that beach in the fog and the cold. We wove out of trees and bushes working on reining, and galloping along the sides of roads, we practiced our slides. Even after we moved the three miles out to our Arroyo Grande ranch, it was many years before I had an arena.

I had started to learn to work cattle on Farlotta, but Ronteza stepped up above and beyond. I remember being at Syd’s ranch, taking a herd of cattle from the mountains back down to the corrals, and this time, Syd was dropping off the heifers along the way and taking all the cows.

I was pushing the cattle and as heifers dropped to the back, I would drop off two or three. Shortly, Ronteza was quietly dropping the heifers off without my suggestion. I could sit on her and love the feel of her quietly doing the job. I rode along admiring how very smart she was, and knew I was learning to love her for just who she was: my filly, the little bay good citizen.

When Ronteza was 4, I started showing her in the hackamore classes in the Arabian shows. After winning a third in her first show, she was never again beaten in an Arabian competition. I stopped showing her in Arabian events and we moved on to open shows, where the California Reined Cow Horse Association offered hackamore and reined cow horse classes: the dry work of figure eights, spins and slides, and the cow work—one cow down a fence, to be headed both ways and then circled up. The entries were almost completely Quarter Horses, and although ladies’ classes were offered, I chose to ride in the open against the men. Ronteza and I had learned everything we knew about working cattle out on the ranch, so when we started working cattle in an arena, we both learned by going to competitions. She always stood back and watched and thought about it. And as Ronteza learned to show, so did I. At the time, the Santa Maria Fair had a lot of reined cow horse classes. One time, finishing up my work, I was circling a horned steer. The horse gallops up alongside the cow, pushes against the cow’s shoulder and forces it in a circle, showing control. Ronteza was very gutsy and that

time, galloping hard in the close quarters, with her head and shoulder forcing the cow into a circle, my rein hooked over the cow’s horn. That’s really the most dangerous part of the circling. If you don’t ride up far enough on a cow, its hip and belly can hit your horse’s front legs and knock your horse down; if you’re too far forward, the cow can cut back or go underneath your horse. I saw the cow’s horn between my rein and Ronteza. Without so much as a missed movement, Ronteza lifted her head and the rein went off over the cow’s horn and back where it should have been, and she went right on circling her cow. She could also run; maybe she stood only 14.2, but she was quick and fast. We showed against Quarter Horses, who were supposed to be much faster than Arabians—but no matter, she could run with any Quarter Horse to head cattle down a wall.

I rode Ronteza in the hackamore through her fifth year, and she began to pay our way with her winnings.

We were learning, she and I. At every horse show, I would slip over and watch the well-known trainers, sitting under the grandstand and peeking out when Don Dodge, Ray Hunt, Ray Hackworth, Johnny Brazil, Monty Roberts and Jimmy Williams were schooling.

I would watch, but was too shy to talk. Another rider coming up at the time was Greg Ward, who in 1966 would be inducted into the National Reined Cow Horse Association’s Hall of Fame and for many years has been considered the horseman’s horseman. He had gone to Cal Poly University at the same time I was getting my teaching degree, and later we became friends. He had a little Quarter Horse mare named Fillinic that established one of the finest (and still top) reined cow horse programs in the open world while I was slowly putting together Varian Arabians. Greg affectionately called Fillinic his “little Arabian” because she was hot, and Ronteza my “Quarter Horse,” since Ronteza stood quietly and held her tension inside. We would sit in the stands, watching the big name trainers winning and both think, ‘someday we’re not going to be getting third and fourths; we’re going to be winning these classes.’

Stress was certainly something I had to handle, as I would get very nervous before a class. With no idea what I was doing, except that I was compelled, I learned to focus. Now everybody works on focus, but in the 1950s, we didn’t even know what focus was—or I had never heard of it, anyway. But since with Ronteza and me it was the blind leading the blind, my method was to lie in bed DECEMBER 20 09 | 199

A Lifetime With Arabians

Vaquero Training: Understanding The Terminology The Vaquero style of training dates to the 1700s, and is attributed to the early Spanish horsemen of California.

Like every other method of training, it was once more harsh than it is now.

Traditionally, it is a slow process that when done well results in a horse so finely trained and attuned to its rider that the term ‘you become one with your horse’ really applies. For those less familiar with vaquero training, following is a background.

The Equipment Hackamore: In traditional vaquero training, the horse may be started in a snaffle for a short time and then

go to the “jacuima” (hackamore).

Hackamores are made of braided rawhide and come in different diameters. I start a horse with a 3/4 or 5/8 sized hackamore with a 10- to 11-inch inside-of-nose piece to insideof-heel-knot length, which is much shorter than a lot of the hackamores you see today in classes other than the reined cow horse classes. Mecate reins are used.

Bosal: The bosal is similar to a hackamore, but fits under the bridle and is about 1/2-inch in diameter.

Its use begins with the two-rein stage. The bridle and shanked bit is introduced with the bosal offering an alternative but familiar means of communication for the transition to the new bit. Mecate reins are attached to the bosal, while the bridle uses the rawhide reins.

Mecate: Reins made of twisted mane hair which are used for both the hackamore and the two-rein, but in different sizes. With the bosal, the mecate reins are much lighter than the mecate reins used on the hackamore.

Mecate reins are 22 feet in length, which gives you rein and length to lead you horse by.

Murietta V in the Hackamore.

Spade Bit: I like a shanked bit— usually a Santa Barbara cheek of

at night and ride a class in total quiet. At the show, I’d go to the arena and walk my figure eights and runs and slides, and where I would stand when I nodded for my cow. All of this I had to do alone, when no one was there, so I would get up in the dark and go to the arena and walk and imagine my class. At home, humming helped the rhythm of a work, so I hummed and closed my mind to other people around me when I was schooling.

As time went on and I competed more, people—usually old-timers—would come up to me and say that I 200 | AR A BIAN HORSE TIMES

moderate length—with a loose jaw that allows the shank to move back and forth softly, and a 5-inch mouth piece that includes a cricket for the horse to roll to keep his mouth moist.

That bit can be either a half-breed (curb) or a spade bit, depending on which bit the horse likes best. A spade bit is not used for more control; it is used when a horse is completely comfortable with his training. When the reins are picked up, he senses what he will be asked to do. This is a comfortable, secure horse.

The Three-Phase Process The Hackamore. Depending on how much you work your horse, the hackamore phase can take a year or two or three years; the rule is to go slowly and easily, and just take the time you need. The hackamore is not a tool for arena training; it is a training method for riding out on long rides with occasional moments of use and then relaxing the horse to a long, loose rein again.

The Two-Rein. In the two-rein, a set of mecate reins is attached to the bosal, and rawhide reins to the bit.

From the shanked bit, rein chains run usually eight to 10 inches before attaching to the rawhide reins; this allows your horse to drink at creeks and water troughs without getting

had lovely hands or that I was doing a good job. I got encouragement from those people, although they weren’t close and I didn’t see them other than at occasional shows. It was important to me. I was thrilled that Jimmy Williams, who would later be inducted into not only the NRCHA Hall of Fame but also the AHSA Show Jumping Hall of Fame and every other Hall of Fame imaginable, came up to me at Monterey and said, “That’s a fine mare you’re riding, Sheila. Keep doing a good job.” I was thrilled that he even knew who I was.

A Lifetime With Arabians your reins wet. It also has to do with the balance of the bit.

I start with a small, 3/8-inch bosal, 10 inches inside measurement, under a bridle, and use a shanked half-breed or low-port bit. Light mecate reins run to the bosal and rawhide reins to the bit.

When you begin the two-rein phase, the horse is already well-trained in the hackamore and is being given time to become familiar with the shanked bit. At first, you use the bosal reins primarily, and just let the horse carry the bridle; over time, you shift focus to the bridle as the horse becomes more comfortable and balanced with it. The two-rein process generally lasts a year or more—but again, take however long it is necessary for the horse to become comfortable with the equipment and what you are asking.

“Straight up in the bridle” is how we describe a horse that is working comfortably in a curb or spade bit; the bosal no longer has mecate reins attached. Straight up in the bridle usually comes when the horse is about 6 or 7 years old, if you assume a year or two in each phase of training. By this time, the horse is fully trained.

He is comfortable in his job and he has carried the bit for a year and a half, maybe two years, which has enabled his neck muscles to adjust to the set of his neck. He totally reins without help, and is comfortable and secure with whatever he is asked to do. He likes the cricket in the bit, which he rolls to keep his mouth moist. When I pick up my hands, it signals down the rawhide reins and rein chains, up the shank of the bit and through the loose jaw

Murietta V in the Two-Rein.

And so little Ronteza, when she was 5, started carrying the four-rein (or the two-rein, whichever you want to call it), and when she was 6, I put her into what they called a Mona Lisa shank bit, which had a copper-covered port. When she was 7, she went straight up in the spade bit. As we went from one step to the next, Ronteza, in her quiet, unobtrusive, thoughtful way was being noticed by the top trainers in the reined cow horse world. Neither of us knew what lay ahead, but I had my heart set on something special. ■

that something is coming—before the port ever makes a change in the horse’s mouth. And P.S., I like a silver engraved overlay on a bit with the port and inside shank rusted, because it is tastier to a horse than the hard finish of stainless steel.

Why would you want to go to the trouble of vaquero training? Get on a horse who is straight up in the bridle and you’ll know. The time spent on this kind of work can turn a ride in a Model A into a cruise in a Rolls Royce.

To learn more about the vaquero style of training, please check www.varianarabians.com, where the Varian Boutique offers “The Vaquero Tradition: Hackamore, Two-Rein, Spade Bit with Sheila Varian at the Santa Ynez Historical Society,” in DVD or VHS format.

Lightly Bey V “Straight Up In The Bridle.”

Sheila Varian, of Arroyo Grande, Calif., has bred, trained and shown Arabians for more than half a century. Now in its ninth generation, the Varian Arabians program is a dynasty of her bloodlines, with national champions in nearly every division. She has been a leading breeder at Scottsdale and the U.S. Nationals many times, and in 2008 received the USEF/Performance Horse Registry Leading Breeder Award, a selection made over all breeds. Sheila’s own record includes U.S. and Canadian National Championships in halter, English, park, stock horse, and western. She is a recognized authority in the equine industry as a whole, and was inducted into the Cowgirl Hall of Fame in Fort Worth, Texas, in 2003. Her techniques for socializing and training horses are based on the “soft approach” of the legendary Tom Dorrance, with whom she was close friends from their introduction in the 1960s until his death in 2003.

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