March 29, 2021 
In the 25 years that I’ve been working as a course builder, the job has changed immensely.
Today’s courses are a lot more technical. A horse jump is still a horse jump, horses haven’t evolved. But our understanding of what they will jump well, poorly, or not at all has been well mapped out by now. This has resulted in horse jumps becoming very specific, through years of evolution.
The end result is simple, but the nuances are more complicated as people like me have focused on how to build a jump that horses jump well, that can be moved around, that you can use to build different questions. Now you have the frangible pins and MIM clips and there’s a ton more information about how they have to be installed to function properly and look good.
I grew up riding in Dutchess County, New York. As a teenager I worked at a barn, teaching kids to ride. One of my students’ parents had a landscape construction company that worked in and around Manhattan on high-end construction. I started working for them in the summers and was able to do a lot of things that weren’t horse-related.
I took the job for the money—it was a really good job for an 18-year-old trying to pay for college (I graduated without student loans). During the school year, I studied Business Management, which is extremely useful no matter what line of work you go into.
Later, I was able to combine my interests and start building horse jumps.
It was an ideal time to get into this business as things were still pretty simple. If you had a basic understanding of the horse business and rules of the sport, knew how to use a chainsaw and a level, and knew some rudimentary construction techniques, you could sort of learn on the job. Competitors knew they wanted something different, officials knew things were changing, but no one knew quite where it was going.
These days, you can’t get by with a worn-out truck, a few tools and a bit of ambition. You really need to learn the ropes with someone who has been there and done that. There are a few ways to do this, but the main thing is, you need to find a path to learning.
One way is to work for someone like myself. There are course designers all over the world who take on apprentices, who have the equipment and the know-how. Then you don’t need the truck, the tools, or the insurance—you just need the ambition.
Another way is to set yourself up as an independent contractor—you’re starting a little business. To do that, you need your own insurance if you want to get hired by a venue. Jump building is becoming increasingly more structured as a business. The average event costs around $100k for the weekend and the organizers need someone professional, who knows what they’re doing and can meet the competitors’ demands. In the middle of all that, a course builder has technical and budgetary demands that must be met.
A day in the life
A course builder’s day doesn’t follow one typical schedule. It varies. But there are a few categories of “days” that they tend to fall into.
A day in the workshop is a carpentry-demanding day. You have to produce strong, technically correct and stylish jumps in a quick and efficient way. There’s an understanding of carpentry, engineering, things you might learn working for a home construction or landscaping company. If you don’t have a horse background, this is still a good way to get started.
A fair number of days of the year are dedicated to grading work with the excavator. But it’s not purely traditional excavating; the horse jumps need to look natural, like they’ve always been there, and because horses run better over natural, flowing lines.
It’s also very exacting: for a water jump, for example, the base and the rim have to be within an inch of the correct grade for it to hold water. It all has to be smooth and tight. When we’re done it should all fit together and look simple—that’s based on years of experience, not just good luck. (Remember that whenever work is done well, it looks easy!)
Another typical day is working on-site at a venue. There are still private farms running events, but larger horse parks are common. These locations are set up for horses and horse people.
That’s the customer, and you have to fit into their model. It’s not a commercial construction site. You can’t trash the footing. You have to understand where you can be and where you can’t be—there are a lot of unwritten rules, and that’s one of the hardest things for non-horse people to learn, how things work on horse show grounds
The horses come first at an event, but production and efficiency are still hugely important. You need to know how to get from here to there without getting in the way of the horses. And it’s very nebulous: there are no lines on the ground or signage telling you where to go. If you’re open-minded, you can look around and observe how people are moving and acting around the course and mimic them.
The other piece of the puzzle is the terminology. When you’re talking to people in the horse business, they tend to speak a different language than how people might talk at a construction site. Often the directions you’re given are from the finish point, while construction will start with the beginning point. With course design you have to start with what the customer wants, and work your way back to the beginning.
The pros and cons of being a course builder
Course building is an incredibly fun career. You’re in an environment where everyone is working towards the same goal. The advantage of horse people is they’re really focused. This is also a disadvantage sometimes. But it can make it easy to make a decision, because everyone is on the same page: the goal is getting a horse to progress to the next level, whether that’s an 18” course or trying to represent your country.
As the builder, your job is to help them progress to the next level, which means all of the courses are important. By building safe, quality courses and keeping it affordable, you are helping that progress.
But the work is never done. You may finish a project, but the sport is always evolving. I have 25-year customers that I still see 10 or 20 times a year. You really get to know people and be part of something, which is real job satisfaction.
One challenge is that each course is project work, and it has to happen on schedule whether it’s 65 degrees and beautiful or 20 degrees and pouring rain. The absolutely hideous weather days are going to happen, and those tend to stick in our minds. But most days are spent outside in a beautiful green field. There’s no better way to spend your days than that.
It’s also a team activity: you’re working with people from varying backgrounds and with designers from around the world. Sharing a space with a team of people who want the same thing is a refreshing experience. In residential construction I’ve found trades are often in conflict, but all the people at an event are aiming for the same goal: the designer, the decorators, the builders, everyone wants everyone else to have a great weekend.
The job offers tons of opportunities for travel, too. But we also have the shop and can do much of the work from home, depending on the experience you’re looking for. Even if you prefer to work primarily out of the shop, it’s important to go to the shows and understand the goal with what you’re building. If you understand the user of the widget, you’re going to build a better widget.
It’s also fun that your workplace and the people you’re working with change on a continuous basis. I think that’s the hardest part about getting along with people in some jobs: you have to get along with them day in and day out. If you’re in an office, for example, and someone is doing x, y and z and it bothers you every day from 8am to 5pm, it’s hard to take. I love the continuous motion and changing environment in this business.
Finally, jump building is a creative outlet. There is a rulebook that you have to follow, but there is no standard horse jump. I always say, it’s my job to reinvent the box: using different materials in different locations.
Taking what you have, where you are, and turning it into a horse jump requires looking at things in a different way and learning new ways of getting from one point to another. A rolltop is your most basic jump; I can build a basic one in 90 minutes. But if you carve a giant chunk of wood into a turtle, that’s also a rolltop. You can stick a horse head and a tail on it and it’s still a rolltop. You’re using your creativity to change the coop, the table, the rolltop or whatever basic shape, to add layers and make it more complicated.
At its best, a course tells a story, each jump is a part of the narrative. If you look at the World Games or Olympics, each jump turns these basic shapes into the main barn or local landmarks or something else entirely to transport you into that story. WEG in Tryon had a North Carolina theme, from the water jump with the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse to the Chimney Rock complex. Bruce’s Field in Aiken tells the story of all the historic monuments in the area.
When it comes down to it, the horse has to be able to read the “box” and at the end of the day, you hope the the horse and rider learn something from the experience—and progress to the next chapter (and goal!) in their story.
