What Hacking Teaches Us About Confidence

Hacking is so often talked about as a kind of break. A downtime activity. A chance to unwind or give the horse a rest from the school. But in reality, for many horses (and riders), hacking feels more like an extreme sport than a Sunday stroll. And unless we start to see it for what it really is—a complex, often unpredictable environment filled with challenges that require a lot of internal resources to process—we’ll keep missing the point of what it can actually teach us.

Over the summer, we run several camps with a focus on hacking. The aim isn’t just to get horses out. It’s to prepare them to be able to handle what hacking throws at them: longer distances, uneven terrain, changes in speed, more complex movement, unexpected stimulus, and often the absence of clear boundaries. These aren’t just riding challenges. They are challenges to the nervous system, to proprioception, and to the horse’s ability to remain curious, connected, and calm as the world gets bigger and less predictable.

This is why hacking, for us, comes at a very specific stage in the programme. Stage 1 is about connection. It's where we help the horse relax, loosen their body, and regulate their nervous system. Only once that foundation is there do we move into Stage 2: confidence. This is where hacking begins to play a bigger role. Here, we ask the horse to move out into the world. To think forwards. To explore. To hold their own line even when the environment becomes complicated. That complexity usually shows up in four main ways: speed, distance, complexity of movement, and external stimulus. And hacking brings all of them, sometimes at once.

To prepare for that, we work incrementally. We begin in the arena, or another controlled space where the horse is already comfortable. From there, we might move out to our “playground” area – a field just outside the main yard, full of trees, hills, and obstacles. It feels new to the horse, but we can still shape it. It gives us the chance to observe: how does the horse respond to a new environment? What happens to their posture, their focus, their breathing? Do they stay relaxed and forward-thinking, or does their awareness start to leak outward?

Only once we see green lights—the horse is loose, thinking forwards, and maintaining rhythm—do we venture further. And even then, we don’t just "go for a ride." We structure it. We identify areas on the hack that can become our mini arenas: a corner of a field, a clearing in the woods, a track entrance. These become places where we can pause, reset, or even work through something if the horse starts to become dysregulated. If we get an amber light—tension, hesitation, tightness—we work there, gently, until we get back to green. If we get a red light, we know we’ve gone too far, and we head back.

This system helps us prevent trigger stacking, which is one of the main reasons horses suddenly explode or shut down out hacking. Trigger stacking happens when multiple small stressors build up over time without release. The horse might seem "fine" on the surface, but they’re gradually moving out of their window of tolerance. Then, something seemingly small tips them over the edge. That’s why it’s not about getting through the hack. It’s about knowing when and where to pause. When to take tension away. When to help the horse regroup and re-regulate.

There are two types of situations we often come up against on a hack. One we call a growth moment: where you’re in a position to actually help your horse process something, release tension, and feel better on the other side. The other is what we call a sticking plaster moment: the kind where you don’t have time or space to work through it, and your main job becomes to keep everyone safe.

Imagine you’re leaving the yard and a lorry appears suddenly at the gate. Your horse is stuck between the pressure of the vehicle in front and the fence behind. You don’t have the option to back up, breathe, and work through it slowly. You have to manage. You ask your horse to hold. To trust. To go with you just long enough to get clear of the situation. And then, ideally, you find your next mini arena. A place where you can stop, help the horse come back into their body, and let go of whatever just happened. That’s the rhythm of a good hack: not the absence of stress, but the ability to catch it early, release it quickly, and never let it build into something unmanageable.

One of the biggest takeaways from our last hacking camp came from a rider who thought her horse was doing just fine. They’d walked the playground in hand, and nothing seemed reactive. But when I pointed out that the horse was in a subtle freeze state—still, but not soft—she realised that many of the problems she’d been having made more sense. Once she saw it, she could do something about it. She helped her horse release, and what followed was a transformation: more expression, more forward intention, and genuine softness that wasn’t there before. That’s what we’re looking for. Not just a horse that can "get through it," but a horse that wants to go with you.

Sometimes the horse is ready before the rider. If you’ve had a bad experience—a fall, a bolt, or even just years of low-level anxiety—it’s normal for your body to tense at the thought of going out. That matters too. Our rule is simple: we go as far as the least confident part of the partnership. That might mean doing groundwork in the playground while your friend goes further. It might mean turning back when you’re 90% sure you could go on. Hacking isn’t a test of bravery. It’s an invitation to build trust, between horse and rider, and within yourself.

In Stage 3 of our programme, we start to look for rhythm. We want the horse to maintain gait, to stay connected to the rider’s seat, and to move in balance over longer distances. Hacking supports that beautifully. The open space, the variety, the forward intention—it all helps to establish rhythm without the repetition of schoolwork. But only if the horse can handle the environment. Only if we’ve done the work to lay the foundation first.

So no, hacking isn’t always the easy option. It isn’t downtime. And it certainly isn’t something to do just because it’s sunny and everyone else is going. It’s a training tool. A test of connection, confidence, and rhythm in real-world conditions. And when it’s done well, it can be one of the most powerful parts of your horse’s education. Because the horse who can handle the world with curiosity, softness, and rhythm—that’s the horse who’s truly free.