Case Study: Falco
A Racehorse Reborn on the Trails of California
Mile 0 – The Duck
We’d just pulled into the ranch. Falco, a 5-year-old off-track Thoroughbred with a kind eye and fire in his soul, stepped off the trailer for the first time. He’d been beautifully restarted in the arena by the team at Win Place Home — safe, rideable, and full of potential. But he was still scared of the world.
So we start the short walk to the barn.
And then — a duck.
Not a mountain lion. Not a helicopter. A free-range duck waddling across the path.
Falco went vertical. Jumped, reared, snorted like a dragon. I just stood there smiling.
“Welcome home, Falco,” I said. “This is gonna be fun.”
Mile 1 – Can You Gallop?
After a few days of groundwork and arena riding, I decided it was time.
I don’t trust a new horse on flat trails, especially one with a racing past. So I chose a wide fire road up a long hill. It’s my go-to — a hill slows down a runaway better than any rein.
We trailered out. I led him up the first stretch, letting him spook at bushes, shadows, and whatever else his mind invented. Half a mile in, I figured it was now or never.
Foot in the stirrup, swing up—
Boom. Falco launched into a gallop before I was even seated.
Welcome to the first trail ride.
He wanted to run, so I let him run. Four or five miles of full tilt. Then when he wanted to stop, I said nope — and we kept going. You want to bolt? Then let’s really bolt. And then bolt some more.
By the top of the hill, he was drenched in sweat. The wind knocked out of his sails. But something had shifted. We walked the last stretch, and for the first time… he didn’t pull. He didn’t rush. He just walked, ears flicking, trying to understand.
That night, I gave him a bath, fed him, and let him rest.
Mile 16 – The Shift
The next morning — no days off — we saddled up again.
Same ranch. Same horse. Different mindset.
We trotted past barking dogs, trash cans, lawn mowers. And Falco? Chill. Focused. Soft.
The first few miles we trotted to keep his mind busy. Then we walked. No jigging. No tension. Just a good, honest walk on a loose rein. By the end of that ride, I knew we were turning a corner.
Over the next few days, we kept at it. Every. Single. Day.
Sometimes long rides. Sometimes short. Sometimes solo. Sometimes with friends. Always intentional. Always calm. Always consistent.
Mile 85 – A Horse with a Job
After two weeks, Falco graduated.
I started using him for guided rides with my clients — experienced riders, fast paces, tricky terrain. The kind of rides where I need a dependable horse under me.
And Falco delivered.
He stopped spooking. He started thinking. He responded to my seat, my energy, my balance. The ex-racehorse had found his rhythm.
We kept putting miles on him. Mountains. Cattle pastures. Sand. Water. Wind. Trash. Bikes. You name it.
He handled it.
Mile 200 – The Camper
One month in, we took him on a four-day camping trip to the beach.
Falco rode like a champion. On the trail. On the beach just by the ocean. Through canyons and forests. We walked, we trotted, we cantered. Nothing fazed him. He was strong, relaxed, and happy. The kind of horse anyone would dream of owning.
Mile 300 – The Transformation
Six weeks after that first duck attack, Falco was ready.
He no longer pulled. He no longer spooked. He was soft in the contact, balanced in the body, and light in the mind. He carried himself like a horse with purpose — like a horse who knew who he was and what was being asked.
I would’ve felt safe putting a little kid on him. And six weeks ago, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get on myself.
Now? I’d take him anywhere.
Final Thoughts
Falco’s story isn’t just about one horse. It’s about what 300 miles of thoughtful, challenging, and consistent trail riding can do.
This isn’t arena work. This isn’t one-hour hacks around the block.
This is transformation.
And for horses like Falco — who need confidence, clarity, and a job — it works. Every time.