John Rannenberg A ra b i a n H o r s e T i m es F e at u re ~ A u g u s t 2010
John Rannenberg The Evolution Of An Arabian Horseman by Mary Kirkman
John Rannenberg
Above, left and right: John Rannenberg as a young equestrian with the Shetland Pony, “Muffin.”
John Rannenberg has led a charmed life. Since he turned professional in the late 1970s, there never has been a major misstep. That positive arc did not just happen; however, a lot of planning and consideration went into each of his relatively few jobs. He spent four years as an apprentice at three organizations, four years with Kenny Rogers, and now 25 at Rohara Arabians. Along the way, his expertise has netted six Arabian Professional and Amateur Horseman’s Association Awards, a Horseman of the Year title, and countless national championships. “I’ve been doing this for quite a long time,” he observes, “but it’s always challenging, it’s never boring, and I still love it. People ask what I want to do when I don’t want to do it any more, and I don’t have a good answer.” Today, Rannenberg is known as one of the few trainers who “does it all”—halter and performance, as well as schooling amateur riders and, on occasion, juveniles. His national championships include every discipline of the traditional show ring except working western, and although he does not exhibit in the sport horse sector of the breed, he is an accomplished hunt seat rider and was
one of the first of the “name” trainers to embrace hunter pleasure years ago, before it achieved the popularity it enjoys today. The diversity of his interest in horses reflects the wideranging nature of his background. His childhood with horses was typical of the 1960s, a bygone era when riding stables were plentiful and kids could be dropped off at the barn to spend the day. “For the most part, I was raised by a single parent who had three boys,” John says, “so, there was no money to buy a horse, much less a show horse. I was out finding horses to ride, and I’d ride anything that would let me get on.” The memory of his introduction to horses remains vivid. “I was in the first grade, and my teacher, Mrs. Kundert, must have thought I needed extra help in reading, so she offered to tutor me on Saturday mornings,” he recalls. “She made a deal that if I spent an hour learning, I could ride her horses. They put me on a big palomino named Chico.” Chico was decked out in a bareback pad with no stirrups—just a little strap to hold on—and a big western
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John Rannenberg
John Rannenberg and Tsultans Tsunrise.
curb bit. “I remember taking him to the end of the driveway, turning around and galloping full-out back to the house.”
He stops for a moment and then adds, “It’s very different today; we hand kids so much. And I’m as guilty as everyone else. I do it too.”
He was hooked. Every Saturday, he would ride Chico to the end of the driveway, turn around, and come flying home as fast as the big gelding could go. “He always stopped, and I never fell off,” John laughs. “That began this connection.”
At the Joy School, Rannenberg learned to jump, and loved the sensation of flying. Before long he was showing. “We would ride to the horse shows,” he recalls. “We didn’t have horse trailers. We would literally sit on our horses all day, and then ride home.”
Mrs. Kundert was his patron saint. She told his mother, “He really likes this, and he’s pretty good. You need to enroll him in lessons.”
At that time, there were plenty of opportunities to ride around his hometown of Excelsior, Minn., southwest of Minneapolis, on Lake Minnetonka. At the age of 14, after riding school, he moved on to Melkerson Stables in nearby Shakopee, a large establishment which was home to two trainers named Dick and Ruth Kiesner (“sire and dam of Joel Kiesner,” one of today’s leading horsemen). Watching the Kiesners, he got his first taste of the talent and work ethic it took to become a successful horse trainer.
The next step was instruction at the Joy School of Equitation, a very strict, old-style hunt seat riding school, and again, the memories are clear. “We would sit on a bench in our little hunt boots while our instructor lectured us before we started our riding lesson,” Rannenberg says, “and afterward, we cleaned our tack, groomed our horses, picked feet, washed tails, swept the barn—all that stuff. I learned some great lessons and great values at a really early age from my instructor.”
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In 1974, when Rannenberg’s mother, Barbara, remarried an insurance executive named Bob Buchanan, the family moved to Fargo, N.D. Unbeknownst to John, the general
John Rannenberg direction of his career was about to be set. His new stepfather was concerned that he be able to continue his involvement with horses, and so arranged for him to visit a business associate’s farm, Red River Ranch. That associate turned out to be George Anderson, who raised Arabians and had once been an officer of IAHA. Red River Ranch was also known as the place that gave trainer Jim Taasaas—who just two years before had led Mike Nichols’ *Elkin and *Elkana to the national championships for stallions and mares—his start. One Saturday morning, Anderson threw John up on a young stallion named Surcharge, just to see how well he rode. The result was that the young horseman was welcomed to the farm to ride anytime. Unfortunately, Anderson died within months, but the dispersal of Red River’s 20 horses made it possible for Rannenberg to ride there through his high school years. At last just one, Surcharge, was left, and Anderson’s son Scott kept the horse (who by that time was gelded) for John to show. “I still keep in touch with Scott,” Rannenberg notes. “He didn’t have to do that, but he did, and he lent me a truck and trailer to take Surcharge to the shows. Surcharge won the state’s Most Versatile Horse award—I still have the plaque on my office wall today.” He smiles at one particular memory. “I took speech in high school, and one day I took Surcharge to school and did a speech on horsemanship. The whole class came out to the trailer for a clinic. The truth is, I didn’t know what else to talk about.” When Rannenberg graduated, Surcharge was sold to a girl in Washington. Years later, at the Canadian Nationals in Vancouver, John happened to glance at random into a stall and was tickled to find himself face to face with his old friend, who subsequently became a national champion in trail. A Professional Commitment On graduation, Rannenberg had to make up his mind about a career, and he distinctly remembers a dinner with his mother and stepfather, as they asked, “What do you want to do?” He wanted to apprentice under a top trainer and find out whether the horse industry was really for him, he replied. If not, he assured them, he would
John Rannenberg and Surcharge.
return and attend college. They agreed and helped him make up professional-looking resumes, which he sent to the biggest names he’d seen in the magazines he had devoured over the years. Then, as a means of getting to his first U.S. Nationals, he signed on to transport horses to Albuquerque—and notes that in his first real horsehauling experience, he became very proficient at changing tires, because there were seven blowouts on the trip. In New Mexico, he made the rounds of those he’d approached for a job: Gene LaCroix, Tom McNair, Bruce Howard, Jim Taasaas, Bob Hart Sr., and a few others. Generally, he notes drily, he received a warm reception because he was offering to work for room and board. His choice was to work for Jim Taasaas in Prospect, Ky., just outside of Louisville. Taasaas was incorporating his Showtime Stables into Jim Brown’s new Paramont Stud facility. “I was planted in horse heaven,” Rannenberg says. It was enough to assure him that he was in the right business, and he credits Taasaas with teaching him a lot about showing, particularly in the halter arena. Then he moved on to work for John and Mary Blincoe at American
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John Rannenberg Farms in Scottsdale, where one of his duties was caring for the stallion Kaborr. That put him in contact with Tom Chauncey, and eventually Tom Chauncey Desert Arabians (where Bob Hart Sr. was head trainer). Finally, in 1981, he was offered what he calls the first job that paid real money: trainer at Kenny Rogers’ new Beaver Dam Farms in Colbert, Ga.
and headed south to a new life. “I hadn’t seen Muffin in a long time,” John remembers. “It was amazing—that pony instantly took me back to my childhood. We got him clipped, lightened his tail, got a little saddle and bridle, and one Sunday I called Kenny at the house and said, ‘I have a surprise.’”
When the unsuspecting Rogers family arrived at the Working for Rogers gave Rannenberg the exposure to barn, John went into his introduction. “When I was a step out onto the Arabian stage. He had never doubted little boy, I had a pony named Muffin, and he taught me his ability, but he had not yet had the opportunity to show so much about who I am today and how I take care of his talent to the equine public. With Rogers, he did; in a horses. Wouldn’t it be fun to get Christopher a pony?” matter of months, he They agreed, so he had won a top ten at went on, “I couldn’t the U.S. Nationals think of a better with the mare Sierra pony than the one I Baskita. was raised with …” And from around the corner came In spite of the Muffin, all saddled spotlight, his fondest and dressed up. memory from the He had just gone years with Rogers and from a backyard in his wife, Marianne, Minnesota to the concerns not the $4 million barn of show horses, but a a superstar. The pony from his own deal was that he childhood. As a young would remain with teen in Minnesota, he Kenny Rogers with John Rannenberg and John’s mother, Barbara Buchanan. Christopher for as had fallen in love with long as the Rogers’ a dapple-grey Shetland needed him, and named Muffin, whose when that time was over, Rannenberg would come for owner allowed him free access to the pony—John taught him. (Years later, when John attended a Kenny Rogers him tricks, trained him to hold his head up higher, drove concert, he was astonished to open the program and find him in parades (in an antique governor’s cart), jumped him, a big photo of Muffin and Christopher. “I thought, ‘My and in the wintertime hitched him to a sleigh or, for the God, he’s made it to the big time!’”) ice of Lake Minnetonka, a toboggan. “My friends would pile in, and we’d ‘haul ass’ across the frozen lake, kids flying To fast-forward for a moment, Muffin remained at off the back,” he recalls. “We have great Super-8 movies.” Beaver Dam for a decade before John got a call that When he moved away, Muffin’s owner, Joanne May, told although he was fine, he was all alone in the big barn. him, “One day when you have your own place, I’ll give you So, the pony came to Rohara, where he lived out the rest Muffin.” of his life with Rannenberg. “I would walk into the barn and call to him, and he would nicker back,” John says. “It In Georgia at Beaver Dam, Rannenberg decided that was so cool, because that was the nicker I had heard as a the Rogers’ young son Christopher should have the pony kid, and now I was grown up.” When Muffin died around experience, so he called May, who had become like a the age of 30, he was buried in the pasture-cemetery with second mother to him. At that point, Muffin had been Rohara’s most beloved and biggest-name champion standing in May’s backyard for years, undoubtedly bored show horses. at the turn his life had taken. He was loaded on a van
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John Rannenberg
John Rannenberg, the winner of multiple APAHA Horsemen’s Awards. John Rannenberg aboard Everlastin Love.
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John Rannenberg
John Rannenberg competing in the Tevis Cup endurance ride.
In 1985, Rannenberg began to suspect that it was time for him to find another home. For one thing, the farm had suffered a tragedy at Scottsdale that year, when two of their horses died as the result of a barn fire. But also, Kenny Rogers had begun to realize that he had not been treated fairly when he had purchased horses at the beginning of his involvement in the breed. Rannenberg had had no say in those transactions, but he could see that the future was not bright. It was at that time that he received a call from Roxann Hart at Rohara. He knew the Harts through mutual involvement in Region 12, but unbeknownst to him, they had been aware of him since 1981, when he had led Sierra Baskita to the top ten behind their U.S. National Champion Mare Rohara Tsultress. Rohara’s resident trainer, Rick Moser, had departed for Colonial Wood, and Rohara was in the market to replace him.
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Despite the circumstances—Rannenberg knew he needed to move, and Rohara, once a small breeding operation in Miami, was a coming powerhouse now at a new farm outside Ocala—he was at first hesitant. It was difficult to leave Beaver Dam, and the general climate of the industry that year was uncertain. Impending tax reforms had owners bailing out, and farms that seemed like institutions were beginning to disappear from the landscape. He flew to Rohara, but demurred. A couple of months later, the Harts met him for dinner in Atlanta. He was still cautious, and bluntly asked Roxann what her commitment to the Arabian horse industry was. “She’d been in the industry since 1961,” John observes wryly. “She couldn’t believe I’d ask that.” He remembers driving home that night and calling his parents, who were in London, to ask for advice. “In the background, my sweet, dear stepfather, who never says anything about things like that, was shouting, ‘Pack!’ So
John Rannenberg the next day I called a florist in Ocala and ordered a giant arrangement of flowers. All it said on the card was, ‘The answer is yes.’”
they’d never had national winners in performance, and she had been a halter horse.” (It’s a point of pride with Rannenberg that many of his horses cross over from halter to performance.)
Those Special Horses When Rannenberg arrived at Rohara, there was no mistaking the fact that he had landed on a farm with every promise for the future. At a time when “pure” this and “straight” that had dominated the Arabian breeding picture in the United States, Roxann Hart had adhered to her own ideas of breeding the perfect horse. Her signature stallion was the syndicated Ivanhoe Tsultan, who boasted a contingent of successful foals, and Sheila Varian’s Bay-El-Bey was there on lease. One of those Tsultan foals was Tshannon, who with John would become the 1988 Canadian National Champion and U.S. National Reserve Champion in Pleasure Driving. The following year, she added a U.S. Top Ten in English Pleasure, and in 1990, the U.S. National Championship in Informal Combination. “She’s still at Rohara,” he says. “She is in her upper 20s now. When I came, she was just coming 3, and she was one of the first horses Rohara bred that I made. It was exciting because
John Rannenberg and Ring Of Fire.
In 1991, he developed Rohara Moon Storm, a son of Rohara Tsultress, to the U.S. National Championship in Western Pleasure Junior Horse, having first finished top ten in Canada. The year before, Rohara Moon Storm had been a Canadian National Top Ten Futurity Colt. “He was my first western pleasure national champion,” John recalls. “Even as old as he is, people remember him as a great western horse—and he’s been a great sire as well.” Rohara Moon Storm also provided an introduction to Marikate Matthews, who purchased him in 1994, and later became a friend for life. Rannenberg is the first to say that there have been too many special horses over the years to list. Some, however, are inescapable. They are the ones whose names will be forever associated with his. One came into his life in late 1986. A key element in his success has been the solid support he has enjoyed from Karl and Roxann Hart over the years; that began when
John Rannenberg aboard Tshannon.
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John Rannenberg he signed on, and Karl Hart set about finding a strong English pleasure contender for him to show. The choice was a 6-year-old chestnut stallion named Canadian Love, whom Rohara leased for four years. The pair entered the ring at Scottsdale in 1987.
psychic,” he says. “I asked the girl who had written it why she chose those words, and she just thought it was a good thing to say.” He rode Canadian Love in Stallion English Pleasure and won unanimously. “No one had seen me ride at Scottsdale, much less win English pleasure when there are 20 entries in the class,” he remembers. “So, Canadian Love was kind of the buzz horse that year. People started saying, ‘You can win the championships; you just have to do this or that.’ I started to twirl inside.”
“There is a story behind that,” John relates. “In January, I went to a psychic in Cassadaga, Fla., a historic town that is very old and quaint, and known for its psychic mediums. The psychic didn’t know me from Adam, but she said, ‘I see you working very hard, preparing for a trip—you’re going west. I see a lot of pressure. I think you’re going to Arizona.’” One month before Scottsdale, the hair stood up on the back of his neck. “Then she said, ‘What is roan?’ and I answered, ‘It’s a color.’ I never mentioned horses. So, she said, ‘What is Rose? There is something wrong with her foot and you need to fix it, but she will be fine.’ Rose Of Tsultan was a mare in my show string, John Rannenberg with Roxann and Karl Hart. scheduled to go to Scottsdale, but she was lame.” He began to listen more closely. “She said, ‘I see you going for the gold. I’m hearing a lot of applause for you. And someone with the letter K in the first name is going to come to you with very important advice. You need to listen to this person.’” Shaken, Rannenberg went to Scottsdale—and when he walked into the Rohara stalls, the first thing he saw was the work board, with a message scrawled across it: Scottsdale 87—Go for the Gold! “I hadn’t told anyone about the
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“So much of what we do is learning to read horses. You can apply all the appropriate teaching and lessons, bits, methods, whatever, but if you aren’t reading the horse properly, you’re going to miss something.”
Meanwhile, attorney Karl Hart had to fly home to handle a case, but the night before the championship, he called his wife. Roxann reported his message to John. “Karl says to ride the horse the way you want to ride the horse,” she said, “because it’s your day.” “I did and he won!” John smiles. “It’s a kooky story, but it was a turning point with that horse and with my getting started. The first year at Nationals, he was top ten, and in 1988, we won at Scottsdale and went on to win the U.S. National Championship in English pleasure. He was a very special horse—he had such heart and athletic ability and character. He was a gentle soul, very straightforward, had a work ethic day after day. He was like Good Thunder; if he didn’t act right, it was his way of telling you something was wrong.” Canadian Love also introduced him to the fine art of breeding. Rannenberg was so impressed with the stallion that he bought a Saddlebred mare, a Center Ring daughter named Ring Of
John Rannenberg
John Rannenberg with the multiple National Champion Canadian Love.
Fire, to breed to him. “That was the best $3,500 I ever spent!” he says of the mare he selected off a video. Bred to Canadian Love and to others, Ring Of Fire enjoyed a long career as a broodmare and produced foals who earned more than 20 national championships. There was an added benefit to the venture, he adds. “Breeding makes me look at training a little differently. I do understand bloodlines and the characteristics they bring to a horse.” Another name that is associated with John Rannenberg is Aalusive Bey, 1993 U.S. National Champion Mare. Roxann Hart spotted the filly when she was looking for standout daughters of JK Amadeus, who at the time was
being used in the Rohara breeding program. When the van arrived with Aalusive Bey and another sharp Amadeus yearling, A Lyrica, the Rohara staff wondered what Roxann had been smoking when she selected Aalusive Bey. “When we want to laugh, we pull out her arrival pictures and look at them,” John says. “She looked like the back end of a tooth pick. I looked at Roxie and said, ‘What in the world did you do?’” By Scottsdale the following year, however, the story was changing. John led Aalusive Bey to the title in the 2-year-old filly championship, qualifying her for the grand championship. The only trouble was, he also exhibited Sequins EA, his stunning Nationals contender, to the ribbon in the 4-year-old class. Unable to show both, he
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John Rannenberg reasoned that Sequins EA, as the older entry, would have a better chance and recruited Rick Moser to show Aalusive Bey. And in so doing, he handed away the tri-color, as Aalusive Bey became the first 2-year-old ever to win the Scottsdale Grand Championship for mares.
ear, and posed and posed and posed. I went through all the moves of presenting her, but with my hands—and the more people realized that I had dropped my whip and this filly was out there giving it her all, the more they got behind her. When I finished, one of the judges—Jim Brown—picked up the whip and handed it to me and said, ‘I believe this is yours.’” The audience burst into laughter.
That October, Aalusive Bey was not nominated to the futurity class, so her only option was to compete in open mares (that was before the junior “But did I mean to division was created). throw away my whip?” John counseled owner John sighs. “I’ve been Michael Stephens that asked, but to this typically, one did not The 1993 U.S. National Champion Mare Aalusive Bey and John Rannenberg. day, I’ve never said. walk in as a 3-year-old So, I confess: no, that wasn’t planned. It just flew out of and win a national championship, and not to be surprised my hand. But the way she was, I thought I wasn’t going if the filly did not win. Stephens agreed, but was game to break her concentration by bending down to pick up to try anyhow. What happened became the talk of the the whip, so Aalusive Bey went U.S. National Champion industry at that time. Mare.” Whether or not Rannenberg meant to make a statement about whips, he did; his mare showed to her The 1993 U.S. National Championship Mare class was best without one, still one of the industry’s most warmlyheld against a background of concern over whip abuse, remembered events. particularly in the halter ranks. That was not on John Rannenberg’s mind when he led Aalusive Bey out to be presented to the five halter judges—but in a matter And finally, there is the horse whose name is synonymous of minutes, he landed squarely in the middle of the with Rannenberg’s—Good Thunder, the grand old discussion. “You know how when we present the horses, stallion who blazed through the show ring until he was we have the whip in our right hand, and it’s kind of over two decades old, winning national championships with our shoulder?” he asks rhetorically. “Well, I took her out, both Rannenberg and his owner, Marikate Matthews. went to stand her up, and the whip went flying out of my “He loved to go to shows,” John says. “He was healthy hand and landed about four feet away. Everyone thought and strong, and in his latter years we picked a division— I’d dropped my whip.” Actually, everyone thought he was native costume—that he loved and he could still do. making a statement by throwing his whip away. A hush He was so Arabian and gorgeous, and people loved fell over the crowd. seeing that little guy just fly around the ring with Marikate. It sounds corny, but those old show horses live “I never lost my focus and neither did Aalusive Bey,” he for that, especially if they’ve been treated right and had continues. “This horse locked into me, never dropped an good careers.”
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John Rannenberg He laughs at how Good Thunder invited Matthews to buy him. Having purchased Rohara Moon Storm and then shown him in western with Bob Hart Jr., Matthews later returned to the farm for another western horse. However, there weren’t any there at the time that met her needs, so John took a risk. “Humor me,” he said. “Just try this horse … ” Matthews got on Good Thunder, the quintessential English horse, and that was that. She owned him until he died last year at the age of 27. He won 11 national championships and six reserves in English pleasure, pleasure driving, informal combination and native costume, both open and amateur.
because as he was going up the ramp, he’d start talking and carrying on,” Rannenberg says of the stallion who was known for his ongoing commentary around the barn. “Not in a bad way; he is a perfect gentleman, really, he just talked. If Marikate couldn’t be there, I’d actually dial her up on the phone and let her listen to him.”
“I had him for almost 20 years,” John reflects. “He was so intelligent, and he had such a big heart. He was so giving. Every day that you took him out of his stall, his biggest thrill was to make you happy. You’re always so appreciative to have one of those great ones, and Marikate really did realize that too.”
The Lighter Side Of The Horse Industry
He smiles at the special relationship between Matthews and Good Thunder. Going to a show, Thunder was always the first horse on the van. “We would laugh at him
Matthews has been a legacy of the horse business. “We have a great relationship and a great bond; she has been a great friend—more than a client,” he says. “We’re pretty much like brother and sister, and she’s always been there for me. It’s a special relationship.”
Undoubtedly, John Rannenberg’s career is solid, successful and seriously good. But it isn’t always serious. The color and traditions that flavor life at Rohara are important as well. One of his favorites is the van loading process which began years ago. “When the semi was out and the ramps were down, there was always a crowd of people, from Karl and Roxann to
John Rannenberg driving Good Thunder.
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John Rannenberg the staff to my mother, who always brought carrots for the horses and sandwiches for the crew,” he says. “We don’t do this for all shows, but certainly for the biggest ones. When they’re all loaded and we’re packed in like the Clampetts, we pull out and the spectators move to the front yard. As we pass down the driveway, they do a little dance and we all wave and honk horns. I don’t remember how it started, but leaving for a show has always been a kind of a production here.” It also taught him one of his most memorable lessons. “We were rushing to go to some local show, and I was running
John Rannenberg aboard Rohara Moon Storm.
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late,” he recalls. “The ramps were down on the left side of the semi, so I parked my brand-new, shiny black BMW next to the passenger door to load my gear and clothes.” Then, conscious of how late it was and hearing the crew slam the van doors, he jumped into the cab, revved up the motor, and cut a hard right, heading for the highway. “As I pulled out, a couple of the guys were running across the lawn, waving their arms at me, and I was thinking, ‘Hey, they’re dancing and sending us off,’ so I was yelling, ‘Okay! Bye-bye!’ We got to the show and we did really well—and then one of the girls who worked for me said, ‘Well, you’ve had a great day. Now, do you want the bad news?’ I’d hit
John Rannenberg my nice, shiny new BMW and dragged it 30 feet into a bank of sand; didn’t even know I did it. The point is: slow down and don’t rush. Think things through.” Other memories are more pleasant. “I had a dear old client, Julane White, who passed away a few years ago,” he says. “She started a tradition early on that every time we went to a show, she would arrive with cherry-chip cupcakes. One year, she screwed up and missed the bon voyage, and Roxie called her and said, ‘Good God, Julane, they’re leaving for Nationals! Where are you with the cupcakes?’ Julane actually made cupcakes and Fed Ex-ed them to Nationals because we didn’t want to go without the luck.” Are they superstitious? No, of course not. But he does admit that a few weeks ago, when they set off for a regional show in the wee hours of the morning, everybody was a little nervous that there was no one there to do the happy dance. So, as he pointed the van down the driveway, his partner Sean jumped out, ran to the front yard, danced madly, and then caught up to the van before it reached the Rohara gates. At regionals, the ribbons came rolling in. Wisdom For all the laughter and success, the years have taught John Rannenberg much about training horses. “So much of what we do is learning to read horses,” he observes. “You can apply all the appropriate teaching and lessons, bits, methods, whatever, but if you aren’t reading the horse properly, you’re going to miss something. “Horses behave for a certain reason,” he continues. “When horses react and behave in a certain way, are they telling me they don’t understand, they don’t want to do it, or they can’t do it? They can’t talk. All they can do is show you by their behavior and their body language. They can’t say, ‘You dumb jerk, my foot hurts and you’re killing me, and I’m going to rear up because my foot hurts.’ So many people get in trouble because they don’t listen to the horse; they’re just going to force this horse into a box and make it perform. That’s one way, but it’s not my way. Being able to pick up on a horse’s inner sense is what separates a lot of trainers.” An experience early in his tenure at Rohara further developed his appreciation for Arabian horses in particular.
On a challenge from California horseman Cory Soltau, a veteran of several Tevis Cup 100-mile endurance rides, Rannenberg entered the race on one of Soltau’s horses. “It was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he reports. “Toward the end, I was astonished at the horse’s drive. After 17 hours, this horse was big and bold when he went across the finish line. We finished 10th out of 200.” He is not afraid to assign credit where it is due. “That horse was phenomenal. He totally took care of me.” As his career developed, Rannenberg fine-tuned his ability to teach not only horses, but humans as well. “You get to a point where it’s not all about you,” he says. “You can help others. This can be a very selfish kind of lifestyle—we’re out there competing. That’s great and I love it, but what’s been fun is sharing what I know with other people and letting them experience it. It’s something I enjoy because I have something to give. When you’re teaching someone how to do something, you essentially are teaching them how to feel a horse and respond, and make the proper adjustment and cue, and why they should do it that way.” Part of the “giving back” process, he found, was getting his judging license in 1998. “One of the hardest things to do is to judge your peers,” he says. “I think trainers make great judges, but there is a lot of added pressure. I had to feel comfortable that I was knowledgeable, wellrounded, had integrity, and that I could stand out there and say, ‘You’re one, you’re two, and you’re three,’ because you did this or that. For a long time, my problem was that I wanted everyone to accept me; I had to get over that. When you’re judging, you’re only making one person very happy. Everyone else is from sort-of-happy to not-happyat-all.” When it’s appropriate in judging a class, he says, he will talk to the exhibitors, especially the kids, to explain things to them. “For a long time, I got really good feedback on that,” he says. “If there is something I can say that I think will help somebody, I’ll say it.” In the past 12 years, Rannenberg has judged the Canadian Nationals, Brazilian Nationals, several regional shows, and a show in Australia. As much as he likes officiating in American shows, he admits to particularly enjoying the overseas assignments. “A goal of mine is to be invited to judge in Europe,” he says. “It would be a great honor.”
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John Rannenberg
Into The Future At 51, John Rannenberg looks at his future with a certain degree of practicality. “I can’t imagine not doing horses,” he says, but adds candidly, “I don’t want to be one of those trainers who doesn’t know when to quit. You’ve seen people go through the years and fade, and I don’t want that to happen to me.” One ability not likely to diminish with age is his marketing expertise. Over the years, he and Roxann Hart have marketed and exported horses to 18 countries, in addition to substantial domestic sales. “We have a working relationship that can take horses, make something of them, and market them successfully,” he says. One of the latest is QR Marc, whom they developed and promoted with the idea that he would be the farm’s next Ivanhoe Tsultan. Instead, QR Marc attracted an offer they couldn’t refuse from Belgium’s Paul Gheysens, and was sold at a record-setting price for a 2-year-old. He considers his contemporaries, the incredibly deep group of trainers who came of age in the late 1970s and early 1980s. “When I look to see where the next generation is coming from, it’s different from when I was coming up,” he says. “There are probably more kids competing now, but how many of those young horsemen are going to pursue the training business or the horse business? ” Some things, he finds, are reassuringly the same. Barbara Buchanan, for instance—his original support system in horses, a successful real estate agent who built her own company to 47 agents strong—is timeless. At 80, she lives with Bob in Ocala and still gets to the local shows. “At Youth Nationals, so many people would say, ‘How’s your mom?’” John recalls with a smile. “Every time, I’d call her and say, ‘Jim Lowe asked about you’ or ‘Bob Boggs asked about you,’ and every time, she’d say, ‘He did?’ She was so pleased. She has so enjoyed my career, and she has a whole set of friends who are horse people.” His career—his passion—has offered him a whole set of friends as well. “Working in Arabians has given me the opportunity to travel all over the world,” John Rannenberg says. “I’ve developed great relationships and friendships that I cherish very much. Doing what I do is all about the horses; you don’t do this, make this kind of commitment, if you don’t love horses. But these horses have a way of opening so many doors.” n
108 | A ra bi a n Hor se T i mes
John Rannenberg
August 2010 | 109