Vaulting: It's Not Just for Kids

Writer’s note: This is a slight revision of a piece that was published in Vaulting World Magazine in June of 2006, reprinted here by popular demand.

Not long ago, I watched an exhibition of vaulting. I don’t know what ‘vaulting’ means in your world, but in mine it refers to gymnastics on horseback. It’s lithe-bodied little (and not so little) girls and even some boys performing all manners of moves, poses, athletic feats and gravity-defying stunts on a moving horse.

I’ve ridden horses since I was ten years old, and the First Commandment has always been to stay on it. In the saddle. Facing forward. Even slight variations of this standard were met with disdain.

Riding backwards and standing up on the horse’s back and doing headstands?  Our instructors always discouraged that sort of thing. Just like they’d get all pasty-faced and panicky if we tried to teach our ponies to rear so we could do our Lone Ranger “Hi-Ho Silver” routine. Any deviation from The Norm would have them running for Valium and liability release forms.

As for getting on a horse while it’s moving - my cronies and I do well to haul our sorry backsides onto a stationary horse with the help of a mounting block or a friend to give us an ungraceful “leg up.”

These little vaulting sprites stride up beside the horse (which moves in perfect cadence in a perfect circle) and hop right on it – at all gaits. Walk. Trot. Canter. No problem. Somehow they never end up hanging under the horse’s belly with their heads plowing up the earth as I imagine I would. 

The littlest people who get to perform the most death-defying acts are known as the “flyers.” In my discipline, a “flyer”is what you do when your horse skids to an unscheduled stop and you keep going. While equally dramatic, our flyers are more verb than noun and less about form than distance. 

Vaulters also have an impressive repertoire of ways to get off the moving horse. They may slide off, or flip over the side, or do a roll or even a back flip off the horse’s back or butt. On purpose.

In my style of riding, we have two kinds of dismounts – Get Off, and Fall Off. If you want to split hairs, Fall Off can be subdivided into Bail Before It Gets Worse and the more common Never Saw It Coming. If you ever see us exiting our horse when it is doing anything other than standing like a statue, it’s because something has gone horribly wrong.

I can also imagine my horse’s reaction if I ever tried to run up and throw my leg over his back when he was trotting along. Assuming he’d let me get close enough to spit on him, I’m sure he’d take my ungraceful floundering as permission to flee into the next county. Even if he were on a longe line, his most likely response would be to drag me through the peony bush. As for what he would do if I tried to stand up or do a headstand on his back...I might as well just hurl my body face-first into the ground and save him the trouble.

But I have to admit, I’ve actually tried it. Vaulting, I mean, not hurling my body face-first into the ground. I took vaulting lessons one winter, and I loved it. It was completely different from anything I’ve ever done on horseback. It was exhilarating. And there’s something about the oddness of looking up at the sky from your vantage point lying across a moving horse’s back that just appeals to my inner sense of weirdness. However, I draw the line at wearing the slinky little full-body leotards that the little girls do. I’m not leaving the house looking like a florescent super hero unless it’s Halloween and I’ve knocked back more than a few shots. I think at my age leggings and a baggy tee shirt are more appropriate.

I’m going to try vaulting again this summer, and I am preparing for it even now. I remember what parts of my body took a beating last time I tried it, so I am attempting to condition said parts to better withstand the demands of the sport. I’m doing pushups for my upper body. I’m jumping on and off of my little trampoline to strengthen and stabilize my ankles. Perhaps I’ll even practice a few moves on those big propane tanks out in back of the barn. I may give new meaning to the term “flyer” if any of that propane goes up.

I will approach it with a youthful exuberance and a can-do attitude. And perhaps a couple of pillows tied around my body, because the ground is a lot harder than it was when I was a kid. Assuming the emergency room has internet access, I’ll let you know how it goes.

Jody Werner is a writer, artist and semi-professional horseman who lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. A successful hunter/equitation rider and competitor, she also enjoys an occasional foray into the world of vaulting. She has a Thoroughbred gelding who would never let her stand up on his back, and who quite frankly would prefer it if she’d stay off of him entirely.