An ode to all the horse lovers | Shooting the breeze

I'm a horse girl.

In honor of the 105th Red Bluff Round Up and the year of the Fire Horse, I'd like to share a few stories about the bond between humans and those beautiful four-legged creatures staying at our fairgrounds this week.

By the age of four, I was a card-carrying member of the California State Horsemen's Association, Region IV, where I spent many nights competing in gymkhana events in the 12-and-under pony division. I was extremely shy and one of the youngest in the competition, riding Golly, my Shetland pony, who lived long enough to attend my wedding reception in 1994 (shout-out to the late Dr. Bob Weber of Red Bluff for taking such good care of her).

One night, a new kid came to the Manteca Horsemen's Arena on a slightly bigger pony. His name was Ted Nuce. We competed against each other in the 1970s, but he was much older than I was (I was four, he was 10), and all we had in common was our mutual love for our four-legged friends.

Fast forward to 1985, when that very same Ted Nuce, a Manteca High grad and Escalon's native son, became the PRCA World Champion Bull Rider. Shortly after his gold buckle ride, he called my dad, who chose to play sports reporter that night for the Manteca Bulletin. My brothers and I crowded around the phone in the kitchen, trying to listen to our dad interview the new world champion.

I had a few horse upgrades along the way and learned quickly how important it is for a horse's mind to have an escape outside the cloverleaf patterns and the freshly disced arenas. About the time I was getting serious about competing at the next level, my neighbors invited us to join them on their annual trail-riding adventures.

Every summer from then on, the Guintoli family would invite the Phillips family to Kennedy Meadows. These were treasured times, riding along the high points of the Pacific Crest Trail with my barrel horse, Gidget, who loved the wide-open spaces much more than she did the rectangular arenas and cloverleaf patterns across California.

To close this chapter of my horse life, from 4 to 16 years old, it is interesting to note that my Guintoli neighbor, classmate, childhood team roping partner and annual attendee of the Red Bluff Bull and Gelding Sale lives in Ted Nuce's old house. What a perfect ending to that childhood chapter of horses.

After college, I moved to Switzerland to teach English and met a gal who shared an even deeper passion for horses than I. She was a student of mine in Lucerne and invited me to her parent's place in Schupfheim, to ride in the hills just below the Alps. This was my first dive into English riding and endurance, which I grew to love. This was also a strange time because her parents owned a Pferde Metzgerei, which translates to horse butcher shop.

Marlene, my Swiss friend and former student, moved in with us here in Corning and took English courses at Chico State. I took her to her first Red Bluff Round Up, where she fell in love with the sport of rodeo. A few years later, she brought her fiancé, and together, we all attended the Red Bluff Round Up. We were making plans to bring her three kids to the Round Up, too.

Life had other plans.

About 10 years ago, I got one of those late-night phone calls no one wants to receive. My dear Marlene had died in a horse accident. Like most freak accidents, they rarely occur at high speeds. Her horse tripped and fell on her while she was closing a gate in those same hills we used to ride. Rest easy, my horse-loving friend. I know you're smiling down on all the pretty horses in Red Bluff this weekend.

Finally, I owe my current chapter of horses and horse knowledge to the late Doug Ingersoll. My sister started riding with him 20 years ago. I was busy having kids and got away from riding for a bit. When the farm girl was ready to advance from the family pony, I didn't want her running bareback through the orchards and canal banks like I did (which is another regret). I wanted her to learn the proper way and so we visited my sister's trainer.

Through the fence, I learned more watching Doug teach than I ever had in my first 30 years on horseback. How he explained and demonstrated the head drop, the pressure and release, the small circles, the large circles, the inside circle view of the horse's eyelashes, the seat, the cavason under every bridle. Obviously, I had to bring my average horse down to learn from this amazing guy. He made the two of us look like we knew what we were doing.

I could go on and on about Doug Ingersoll. He and his wife, Debbie, were so gracious to keep the farm girl overnight on occasion, so we didn't have to make the long trek back to Lincoln. He loved taking his riders out to Carls, Jr. and Pete's and the Cheesecake Factory and he knew how to properly yell at all of us when we were about to screw up our horses.

This sounds crazy, but Doug taught me how to pet a horse. I mean, really, pet a horse; it was his superpower. I watched him look a horse in the eyes, gently wrap his hands around their poll and offer up the most genuine rubs I had ever seen. Horses loved Doug and he loved them and it was beautiful to witness.

When Doug was inducted into the National Reined Cow Horse Association Hall of Fame a few years ago, he received a lot of praise from people in the industry. But what he wanted to be remembered for, he told the crowd, was "A man that was kind to his horses, who loved his horses."

Doug Ingersoll taught me how to really love a horse and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Cheers to all the horses and riders. May we have a safe Red Bluff Round Up.

Let's Rodeo.

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This story was originally published April 17, 2026 at 3:44 AM.