GN? BP? LQ? Actually, I'll take a BLT, please.
I’ve always been the trailering equivalent of a couch-surfer. On the rare occasion I’ve needed to take my horse further than I can reasonably ride – which is a pretty liberal measure – I’ve gotten a friend to trailer me or paid for professional transport. I’ve never really needed a trailer. I gave up horseshows when I realized they had a dress code and I have amazing riding opportunities right outside my door.
In addition to being limited, my experience with horse transport is dubious. When I was a kid, my dad – miss you every damn day, Pop – bought a step van that he tried to convert into a horse ‘bus’ like he’d read about in a James Herriot story. His first test lap around his friend’s farm ended with my Shetland pony in the passenger seat. Not good. Years later, he bought a used trailer that he tried to pull with a beat-up, 4-cylinder SUV. To be able to go over 15 miles per hour, he excised every bit of that trailer’s interior structure. Again, there was a lot of horse flesh sloshing about and a quick conversion of that trailer into a chicken coop.
Given this history, I began my search for a trailer with a degree of skepticism around stock trailers, which look an awful lot like my dad’s experiments. The next question – size – was easy to answer. I see riding as a way to get away from crowds; I hope never to have the need to move more than 2 horses at a time. With these decisions made, the next choice -- between gooseneck (GN) and bumper pull (BP) -- was pretty apparent. The only real reason for a GN trailer for only two horses is to bring human living quarters (LQ) into the mix. As convenient as it sounds to be able to just park and have your stable and bunkhouse right there behind you, I don’t see that as the ideal model for this trip. Having to find places that accommodate us all – horses and humans – seems like a great way to spend quality time with other horse people. I can throw a tent and some sleeping bags in the truck for the occasions when we can’t find accommodations. God, please let those nights be few.
Okay – so it looks like it’s going to be a fully-enclosed, bumper-pull, two-horse trailer. What else do I need to consider? Do I want a dressing room? Given my earlier note about dress codes (and my child-mortifying proclivity for changing my clothes in public) – no. But, that storage space for saddles and assorted gear is handy. Too bad there isn’t a trailer that gives you that storage space, but with a more open design. But wait, there is. Instead of using the space in the nose of the trailer for a dressing room, there are trailers that use that space for a side ramp, saddle racks, and a door for humans.
The first time I stepped in one of these trailers, I was ready to move in myself. It feels so open. You lead your horse up the ramp in back; duck under the chest bar and step out through the door. Drop the side ramp and that tailer is so light and breezy, the most claustrophobic horse (Kurt’s) feels safe. There’s still room for saddles and assorted tack. And, if for some reason you need to lead a horse forward and out the side ramp instead of backing it out, that’s an option. SOLD!!
We ended up buying a trailer with this design that’s made in North Carolina by a company called Gore. I bought it from a dealer in Maryland, Blue Ridge Trailers. Alice, who runs Blue Ridge, is a no-nonsense horsewoman who singlehandedly trailers her Trakehner stallion up and down the Atlantic Coast to dressage events that he regularly wins. I don’t want to guess how old Alice is, but I’ll just say I want to be her when I grow up, and I’m nearly 55. Here’s a link to her dealership (https://blueridgetrailers.com/gore-trailers/) and an article about her beautiful boy (https://equiery.com/about-this-months-cover-elfenperfekt-pg/).