Tricorne Farm Riding School (TFRS)

My parents must have known this place was the right one to really begin my equestrian career, because my initials were "TF." It was my OWN riding school! :-)  My mom tells me they found it through an acquaintance of hers, whose daughter rode there and liked it. I sure was lucky my folks were willing to put me in lessons at all, because I've heard from a lot of women that they simply weren't allowed.

Tricorne was located about two miles from my home in suburban Holmdel, New Jersey. Yes, that's right, the land of oil refineries, strip malls and Mafia dons with itchy trigger fingers - funny that we also boasted the largest number of horses outside of the state of Texas (or so I was always told). Just to really make my point, within a five mile radius of my home were at least two other riding establishments, and once a couple of backyard horses got out and wound up running wild in our own yard. That is a great story in itself. My poor dad was doing dishes at 2:00 AM after a dinner party where spirits had been liberally poured. He thought he'd really gone 'round the bend when he heard thundering hooves and looked out the window to see equines dodging the swingset. I myself was furious when I got up the next morning and saw actual hoofprints in the yard; as far as I was concerned, it should have been "finders keepers," and I was beside myself thinking Dad could have played cowboy, lassoed one of the runaways, and I would have awoken to my personal dream of my Very Own Horse tied to a tree outside my window. ARGH!

Anyway, Tricorne was set on about 10 hilly acres. A secondary road ran across the front of the property, by the main riding arena and a couple of pastures. There was a long dirt driveway uphill to the parking area in front of the barn complex. The original barn was a huge old thing; it basically was a gigantic hayloft, on top of stalls for boarder's horses underneath it (I wish I knew when it had been built, because I bet it was historically significant). There were wings of stabling off to the left and the right. The right side was all boarders, and the left was where the school horses lived, aka "my" domain. I think there was probably room for around 35 horses altogether.

We had a really interesting indoor arena in addition to the outdoor ring. It was quite large, around 150' by 50', and constructed of cinderblocks with a "real" roof (albeit draped with thousands of dirty cobwebs). It probably would have withstood hurricane-force winds. The footing was tanbark or some other kind of brown dirt. I wound up eating plenty of it, so I know how it tasted, but I'm not sure what it was. Needless to say, there was no sprinkler system, so a bunch of horses churning around in there meant the air was absolutely FULL of dust. That's what I meant by eating it - although yes, I also hit the deck quite a few times! And forget about blowing your nose afterwards (gross).

There were pastures on all sides of the barn complex, and the large one behind the school horse barn that was their pasture also had a riding track that ran around the inside. When it was time for the schoolies to go out, they simply opened the back door and went down the aisle unclipping chains from the standing stalls. The horses would back out and crowd down the aisle to freedom. When the horses would come back in, the process would be reversed, and we all knew we'd better be out of the way when they came charging back in the barn to get to their feed. What amazed me was every one of those horses knew exactly where his stall was and would head straight for it.

If you caught that - yes, I'm afraid almost all of the school horses lived in standing stalls. There were a couple of "special" ones that were accorded box stalls, but the majority spent their indoor time in a narrow space, haltered and chained to their mangers, with another chain behind their butts. I can't remember if there were windows; if there were, I'm sure they were covered in dust and cobwebs, like everything else. Once in a while someone would slip his halter (all geldings) and we'd find him turned around, quite excited to see what was going on for a change. Now I would be shocked to find standing stalls in a barn but I guess back then it was not unusual.

Everyone at Tricorne rode Hunter/Jumper. Even if I'd wanted to ride Western, I have no idea where that would have been possible in NJ at that time. George Morris and Hunterdon up in Hunterdon County were held up as the ultimate pinnacle of hunter excellence, and even the rich kids at my barn spoke in hushed tones about the privileged youth and horses that rode/resided there. "You don't even tack up your own horse..." Nowadays, that's commonplace, but to a kid who thoroughly enjoyed her hours grooming and tacking school horses it actually didn't sound like too much fun - except when it was boiling hot or freezing cold. To this day, of course, many of the top Jr. H/J riders come out of New Jersey barns and trainers... Beacon Hill, Quiet Winter, etc. Those establishments are all in the nearby area of Colts Neck, NJ. 

Tricorne enjoyed a good reputation, but I don't think it was ever viewed as a "top-notch" stable. We had our share of wealthy boarders, but it wasn't a fancy place, and their focus was evenly divided between the boarders and the academy students. It was reasonably safe, the horses were well-fed, the facility was nice enough, and the trainers were good. They held twice-yearly academy shows. This suited me and my family just fine. I will be forever grateful for the opportunities provided to me there to ride and show without having to own my own pony or horse, and I am also forever grateful that my parents were willing to put up with and finance the "horse habit."

Now that I've described the facility, I'll get to the good part in my next post - the HORSES.

(Sorry there are no photos with this post - I have none of just the farm. But there are plenty coming with me in them!)