August 21, 2026: Before You Buy - How to Test Ride a Horse
A Test Ride From Both Sides
We had another potential match for Bee come out to Equine Obsession this week, but this one was a little different. A high school rodeo rider was interested in Bee as part of a potential trade, which meant I got to experience a horse test ride from both sides at exactly the same time. She was evaluating Bee, and I was evaluating her horse as a possible next horse for me.
I insisted on riding Bee first. I know her, I know what she can do, and I also know that an experienced rider can make a complicated horse look pretty darn easy. Then it was the young rider's turn. Within just a few laps around the arena, she loved Bee. She loved the way she moved and was excited to try her on the barrel pattern. Honestly, I think she was pretty much sold.
Way to go, Bee.
But I wasn't ready for her to be sold yet. She hadn't really put Bee through the paces, and I know too much about Bee to let a few beautiful laps around the arena be the entire test. She's smart, talented, has a lot of buttons and will absolutely make some decisions for you if you aren't prepared to make them yourself. I wanted this young rider to see more than the Bee who looks lovely moving around an arena. I wanted her to find out what Bee felt like when she really started asking questions of her.
Meanwhile, it was my turn to evaluate the other side of this potential trade. He was originally trained in Western Pleasure but hadn’t been ridden that way for a long time and it showed. I rode her horse, and when we got to some of the things that matter to me, let's just say picking up poles didn't go particularly well. That doesn't make him a bad horse. It doesn't even mean he won't be exactly the right horse for someone else. It simply gave me information I needed to know: he isn't the guy for me.
I think the young rodeo rider was heartbroken. Honestly, I was heartbroken for her because I could see how much she liked Bee. But the whole experience drove home something I've been learning throughout this horse-shopping process: I can't shortcut the test ride, and I can't let someone interested in Bee shortcut it either.
When we really want a horse to work, it's incredibly easy to start looking for reasons to say yes instead of continuing to look for the information that might tell us no. That's especially true after a great first ride. But neither the buyer nor the seller should be trying to get to "yes" as quickly as possible. With younger riders in particular, I think I have some responsibility to help slow that excitement down and encourage them to really test Bee. I want her next rider to understand the horse they're buying, not simply the horse they fell in love with during the first ten minutes.
And I need to hold myself to exactly the same standard. Picking up those poles gave me an answer I didn't particularly want, but that's the whole point of testing.
Sometimes the best possible outcome of a test ride is discovering that a horse isn't the right match before anybody loads one onto a trailer.
What I've Learned About Test Riding a Horse
If I could go back and test ride Bee today with everything I know now, I'd do it completely differently. Not because I regret buying her. Quite the opposite. She's the reason I know what I'm looking for now.
When I bought Bee, I was buying my first horse. I thought I knew how to ride, but I didn't yet understand how different riding a horse is from actually owning, handling, managing and partnering with one. There is an enormous amount you simply don't know until you're responsible for the whole package. Now I'm shopping for my next horse while simultaneously trying to find the right next rider and home for Bee, and being on both sides of that process has completely changed the way I think about a test ride.
Horse shopping is weird when you really think about it. You're potentially making a five-figure decision about a 1,000-pound animal you hope to trust with your life after spending, what, an hour together? No pressure. Like my friend Connie said, “It’s like getting married after a one-hour date.” No bueno. So I've become much more deliberate about what I want that hour, or hopefully longer, to tell me.
The biggest change in my thinking is that a test ride doesn't actually begin when your butt hits the saddle. It starts the moment you meet the horse.
The Test Ride Starts on the Ground
Before I ride my next potential horse, I want to interact with her. How does she behave when she's caught? Does she respect my personal space? Will she lead quietly beside me? Can I touch her ears, pick up her feet and groom her? Does she stand reasonably still while being saddled? I also want to see what happens during the normal little surprises that inevitably occur around horses. I'm not suggesting deliberately frightening a horse to manufacture a reaction, but horses are prey animals and something eventually will catch their attention. I want to see how this horse responds to everyday life and, importantly, how she responds to me. Bee was standing next to me as I put the poop fork against the fence. As I was grabbing her headstall off the fence the fork fell. She didn’t flinch, jump, bolt and drag me along for the ride. She stood there calmly. That’s what we want to see. Those kinds of everyday surprises.
I also want to lunge her myself. For my non-horse friends, lunging means asking the horse to move around you on a large circle while you control her direction, speed and transitions from the ground. I want to ask her to walk, trot and lope in both directions, transition between those gaits, change direction and come back down when asked. It gives me a chance to watch how she moves without a rider on her back. Does she look comfortable and reasonably balanced in both directions? Does she turn in toward me or turn her rear toward me when changing directions? Where is her head position? Is she paying attention to what’s going on around her or to me? Does she consistently resist one direction or gait? More importantly, is she listening to me, or am I merely standing in the middle while she runs the meeting?
There's a practical reason I want to be the one holding the lunge line. A horse behaving beautifully for the person who handles her every day doesn't necessarily tell me how she'll behave for someone new. She already knows that person's cues, timing and expectations. I need to know whether her training transfers to an unfamiliar handler. Does she listen when I ask her to move out, slow down or change direction? Does she test me? What happens when my timing isn't exactly what she's accustomed to?
Bee has taught me that trained and suitable are not the same thing. She has a lot of buttons. Put an experienced rider on her who understands how to use them and you can see the horse she was trained to be. That doesn't mean every rider can push those buttons correctly. Ask me how I know. Likewise, words such as "broke," "safe," "quiet," "beginner friendly," “husband horse,” and "kid safe" aren't standardized ratings. They're someone's opinion. A horse one rider considers incredibly easy may be far too much horse for someone else. This time around, I need to determine what those words mean for me.
I'm Not Getting on First
This is now firmly on my horse-shopping checklist: the owner, seller or trainer who knows the horse is riding first. Partly because I'm not volunteering to be the crash-test dummy, but mostly because I want the opportunity to watch the horse before I'm responsible for riding her.
I want to see how she stands for mounting and whether she immediately walks away. How much leg does the rider need? How does she respond to the reins? Does she walk, trot and lope willingly? Does she pick up both leads? How easily does she stop, back and change direction? I also want to watch the rider closely because a highly experienced rider can make a complicated horse look incredibly easy. I've seen Sarah do exactly that with Bee.
I'm not simply watching whether the horse performs beautifully. I'm watching what the rider has to do to get that performance. Are there constant corrections so subtle I might have missed them before? Is the rider managing the horse every second, or does the horse quietly do her job? Most importantly, does the horse I'm watching resemble the horse that was described to me?
Then Sarah Gets Her Turn
If everything still looks good, I'm still not getting on.
Sarah is next.
This may be one of the most important parts of the test for me because the owner has just shown us what the horse does for someone she already knows. Now I want to see what happens when an experienced rider the horse has never met climbs aboard.
Sarah can put a horse through the paces in ways I simply can't yet. She'll walk, trot and lope her in both directions, check her transitions, stop, back, move different parts of her body and see how responsive and soft she is under saddle. When horse people describe a horse as "soft," they're generally talking about a horse that responds willingly to relatively light rein and leg pressure instead of bracing, leaning or requiring stronger and stronger cues. Sarah can feel resistance, balance, responsiveness and little holes in training that I may not recognize from the saddle yet.
I also want Sarah to safely try some of the spooky or unfamiliar things that matter to me. Pick up a flag. Carry it. Pick up a pole and move it around. Walk over ground poles. Approach something unusual. Open a gate if one is available. The goal isn't to deliberately terrify the horse and see whether Sarah can stay aboard. We're testing communication, not manufacturing a rodeo. If the horse is uncertain about something, I want to see what happens when Sarah says, "It's okay. We're doing this."
That's important because the owner successfully doing those things doesn't necessarily tell me everything I need to know. A horse may trust that rider completely or may have performed that exact exercise a hundred times with them. I want to know whether the horse will listen to and accept direction from a capable rider she's never met. Does her training transfer? Does she search for the answer when Sarah asks a question? Can Sarah redirect and reassure her when she's uncertain, or does the horse decide she doesn't know this woman and would prefer to file for immediate divorce?
The seller's ride shows me what the horse can do with the person who knows her. Sarah's ride tells us much more about what the horse actually knows and whether that training transfers to someone new.
Then, finally, it's my turn.
Okay, Now I'll Get On
By the time I get in the saddle, Sarah has already established that the horse can do the things we're asking. My job is different. I need to answer a much more important question: Can I operate this horse?
Can I steer her in both directions, stop her and back her? Can I move her hindquarters and ask her to go forward? Does she understand my leg and rein cues, and equally important, do I understand how she's been trained to respond? I want to feel how much cue she needs, how forgiving she is when my timing isn't perfect and whether communication between us starts to make sense.
When I bought Bee, I might have climbed onto a horse and thought, She's so calm! Today, I know that's not enough. A horse standing quietly because she doesn't particularly want to move isn't necessarily a safe, well-trained horse. Likewise, a horse with plenty of forward energy isn't automatically unsafe. I want brakes, steering and forward when I ask for forward, but more than anything, I want to know whether I can communicate with the horse underneath me.
There's an important difference between Sarah's ride and mine. Sarah is testing what the horse knows. I'm testing whether the horse and I can work together.
What Happens When Something Goes Wrong?
This may be one of the biggest things Bee has taught me. I'm no longer particularly interested in finding a horse that never spooks because I'm not convinced that horse exists. Horses are prey animals. A plastic bag can become a mountain lion, and a mailbox that has occupied the same location for seven years can apparently wake up one morning with murderous intentions.
What matters more to me is what happens after the spook. Does the horse jump and then come back to me? Can I redirect her attention? Does she take a breath and investigate? Does she continue listening to her rider, or does one scary object become five minutes of escalating anxiety?
I've watched Bee improve tremendously in this area. I've seen her encounter something unfamiliar, become nervous and then, with an experienced rider, work through it rather than deciding the barn is suddenly the only safe place on Earth. She's taught me that recovery tells me far more about a horse than the initial reaction. Horses are going to notice things. What I need to know is whether my next horse can come back to me afterward.
Ride the Horse You Actually Need
If you're buying a trail horse, don't only test her in an arena. If you plan to ride alone, see how she behaves when she leaves other horses. If you usually ride with friends, see whether she can ride in front, behind and beside another horse. If you need her to open gates, cross water, ride through fields, encounter traffic or stand quietly while everyone else rides away, those things matter.
You don't need to manufacture dangerous situations to "test" a horse. You do, however, need to evaluate the horse for the job you're actually hiring her to do. For me, that means I don't particularly care whether my next horse can run a barrel pattern, rope a cow or execute some impressive maneuver I'll never ask her to perform. I want to know whether she can confidently leave the arena, handle new surroundings and take care of herself and me when something unexpected happens.
That's my job opening. (And maybe ride in a parade.)
I Want to See the Boring Stuff
Honestly, some of the least exciting parts of a test ride may tell me the most. I want to see the horse caught, haltered, led, groomed and saddled. I want to pick up her feet, touch her ears, tighten the cinch, walk her away from her buddies and see how she behaves at the mounting block. If trailering is important, I want to see her load and unload too.
None of that makes a particularly exciting sales video, but most horse ownership isn't a beautiful slow-motion lope through a field at sunset. It's catching your horse when you're already running late. It's holding her for the farrier, putting medicine somewhere she absolutely does not want medicine, loading for a veterinary appointment, or asking her to stand tied while you fiddle with something. I don't just want to know what Saturday morning's perfect test ride looks like. I want to know what Tuesday afternoon with this horse looks like.
A Great Test Ride Still Isn't Enough
Let's say all of that goes beautifully. I like the horse. Sarah likes the horse. The horse appears to like me. Nobody dies. Excellent start.
I'm still not writing the check.
Next comes the pre-purchase examination, commonly called a PPE. This is an examination performed by an equine veterinarian for a prospective buyer. The veterinarian evaluates the horse for medical findings that could affect the horse's intended use. That's an important distinction because a horse being purchased for demanding competition may need to withstand very different physical stresses than one being purchased for lighter recreational riding. The American Association of Equine Practitioners also stresses that the veterinarian reports the medical findings while the buyer ultimately decides whether those findings are acceptable for the horse's intended purpose.
A PPE isn't necessarily a veterinary version of PASS or FAIL. A finding that concerns one buyer may be perfectly manageable for another depending on the horse's intended job and the buyer's tolerance for risk. Additional diagnostics, including radiographs, may also be appropriate depending on the horse, its history, intended use and what the veterinarian finds during the examination.
Ideally, I want the veterinarian performing the PPE to be working independently for me as the buyer. The veterinarian gives me the medical information. Sarah helps me evaluate whether the horse suits me as a rider. Then I decide whether the whole package makes sense. A PPE can't guarantee that a horse will never develop a health or soundness problem, but it can help me make the decision with considerably more information than I had before. I’ve already got the weekly buzz about this topic written as a draft since I did one with Bee. I’ll go more in depth when we actually get to do one on the next horse.
The Question Has Changed
When I bought my first horse, I think the question in my head was probably, Do I like her? Now I know that's nowhere near enough. I can love a horse that's completely wrong for me. I can think a horse is beautiful and still not be able to ride her effectively. I can watch Sarah have a gorgeous ride and discover five minutes later that the same horse and I speak entirely different languages. I can also have a lovely twenty-minute test ride without knowing what that horse is like when she's fresh, separated from her friends, outside the arena or faced with something unexpected.
So the question I'm taking into my next test ride is different: Who is this horse when I am the one handling and riding her, and is that the horse I need?
Bee has taught me the importance of that question better than anyone ever could. She's a good horse. She's talented and well trained, and she's taught me an enormous amount. I love her. But loving a horse and being the right rider for that horse aren't always the same thing. This week's experience drove that lesson home from both directions. I need to be patient enough to find the horse that fits me, but I also owe Bee the patience to find the rider who fits her.
That means no shortcuts on either side. We handle the horse. We lunge. The seller rides. Sarah rides. I ride. We test the boring things and the things that matter for the job. We keep asking questions even when we're already excited about the answers we've gotten. And I'll expect someone considering Bee to do the same.
Sometimes that's going to mean walking away from a horse I really like. Sometimes it's going to mean disappointing someone who really likes Bee. Neither feels particularly good in the moment.
But the goal isn't simply to make a sale or a trade.
The goal is to make the right match.
Bee deserves that.
And I've learned enough from her to know that I do too.
