Tasida Kulikowski
Hi. I know this is usually where the trainer writes a biography in the third person, and the end result is really impressive. I’m not going to do that, because really, at the core of it all, you and I are no different. Instead I’ll give you an intimate glimpse into my story on how I arrived into the specialties I offer.
I was the kid in class that didn’t really know how to start a conversation with other kids. I felt most comfortable around adults whilst pretending to genuinely follow the conversation or when in the company of horses. Horses were the most honest and transparent, they didn’t need words to communicate, and I didn’t need to follow subjects that didn’t interest me in order to gain their acceptance. I too was that super dork that cantered around the playground oblivious that I was the spectacle of recess, and tried to teach rein aides to the other kids with a jump rope.
My earliest equine experiences were with hot blooded Arabians and Saddlebreds where my mother was an instructor and trainer at a prominent show barn. What I rode were the horses on the bottom of the “to do” list; the ones with weird quirks, the ones with absentee owners, the pasture pets that'd been sitting for years without a job. Yes, there were a couple growing up that were eye candy with a sound mind and a brave heart, but certainly not the majority. I navigated the behavioral baggage these horses brought to the table because if I couldn’t work through it, I couldn’t ride, and riding was breathing.
Because my riding took me wherever my butt could land in a saddle, I experienced a variety of disciplines too, and by some stroke of cosmic luck, I got to learn from some of the greatest teachers of those disciplines. Saddleseat, Western Pleasure, Trail, Hunters, Jumpers, Polo, Eventing, Dressage, Garrocha,… I’m sure there’s more, especially if you consider riding in those flat as a pancake, plain flap saddles of yester-year its own discipline (or sadistic practice, you choose).
So, my college aged years were spent starting, training, exercising and grooming polo ponies for Anheuser Busch only to drop out of college and go on the road with the Royal Lipizzaner Stallions as a riding performer. I was going for a Fine Arts degree, so in hindsight it wasn’t a bad decision. I think every college aged person has that life affirmation journey, except instead of road tripping to the Burning Man festival or spending a year in Europe, I was swinging mallets, roaching manes, and trading my helmet for a tricorne hat and a double breasted waistcoat. Looking back these experiences were my first emergence into the tangibility of limitless possibility. You learn what you are made of sleeping on hay and bathing in a lake.
I came away from those experiences with a 15.1h pain in the ass; Hondo.
He was a freebie that flunked out of the polo program, who on the surface had a vendetta to the world, but like an onion, his layers revealed so much more.
Have you ever had one of those moments where in frustration you shake your fists at the equestrian gods and exclaim, “why the hell can’t he just be a normal horse?! I just want to …[insert equestrian goal here].” Funny, me too. I thought I knew problem horses inside and out, and every time I gained a shred of confidence that maybe my entire equestrian experience was not a lie, Hondo would set the stage to teach me there was more to learn. The first 10 years together were like this weird marriage with compromises that either party did just to give some self illusion of normalcy, inter-species codependency, and abandonment of all goals and a surrender to what is. I’m sure there’s some premise of a 12 step program in there that I haven’t studied, but yeah. Don’t get me wrong, we had AMAZING adventures together, and we could read each other’s minds, but I left the barn quite frequently in envy of the random gal with a horse that was the same every day and did his job, and in welling tears like some battered horse woman. I did not have the life experience yet to see the beauty in what Hondo and I did create together.
Hondo and his weirdness brought some really incredible equestrians into my journey, and the second decade together was transformative for him, but far more for me. Exasperation and an insatiable thirst for knowledge brought Andy Bashkin (assistant to Michael Matz), Sophie Pirie Clifton, Paul Belasik, Karen Thomas (trained with Jimmy Wofford under Col. Wofford), Patrice Edwards (her facets of amazing are too long to list), Francisco Garcia, and Charles de Kunffy into my life. Yes, I’ve been the girl on the freebie OTTB that won't stand still or go on the bit consistently participating in an international level clinic at Training Level dressage. No shame. Fix us. Y’all can watch.
And we did.
He and I had no problems clearing a 1.2m fence (even in his 20’s), navigating a 2nd level dressage test, riding 25 miles of trails, swimming across rapid rivers, jumping cross country without a bridle, cantering Garrocha patterns, or dragging logs out of the forest. Just don’t ask us to work cows (we both had a MAJOR aversion to cows)
My greatest challenge was the lotus emerging my gift to you, and what Hondo has initiated for me has now helped hundreds of horses and riders across the globe. My last words to Hondo as he passed away on the farm were “thank you” for good reason. I’m here to share with you the pieces missing from what is taught today. To teach you that your horse can achieve greatness if he is guided in a manner that works with him instead of as a weapon against him, and show you that he wants that for himself too! My list of ‘unbelievable success stories’ grows with every single horse I have the pleasure of helping, and every rider that thought too small for themselves and learned otherwise. I am never short on wonder and amazement, nor am I finished learning and evolving as a result of these amazing creatures and the fabulous people, like you, that share their lives with them.
I was the kid in class that didn’t really know how to start a conversation with other kids. I felt most comfortable around adults whilst pretending to genuinely follow the conversation or when in the company of horses. Horses were the most honest and transparent, they didn’t need words to communicate, and I didn’t need to follow subjects that didn’t interest me in order to gain their acceptance. I too was that super dork that cantered around the playground oblivious that I was the spectacle of recess, and tried to teach rein aides to the other kids with a jump rope.
My earliest equine experiences were with hot blooded Arabians and Saddlebreds where my mother was an instructor and trainer at a prominent show barn. What I rode were the horses on the bottom of the “to do” list; the ones with weird quirks, the ones with absentee owners, the pasture pets that'd been sitting for years without a job. Yes, there were a couple growing up that were eye candy with a sound mind and a brave heart, but certainly not the majority. I navigated the behavioral baggage these horses brought to the table because if I couldn’t work through it, I couldn’t ride, and riding was breathing.
Because my riding took me wherever my butt could land in a saddle, I experienced a variety of disciplines too, and by some stroke of cosmic luck, I got to learn from some of the greatest teachers of those disciplines. Saddleseat, Western Pleasure, Trail, Hunters, Jumpers, Polo, Eventing, Dressage, Garrocha,… I’m sure there’s more, especially if you consider riding in those flat as a pancake, plain flap saddles of yester-year its own discipline (or sadistic practice, you choose).
So, my college aged years were spent starting, training, exercising and grooming polo ponies for Anheuser Busch only to drop out of college and go on the road with the Royal Lipizzaner Stallions as a riding performer. I was going for a Fine Arts degree, so in hindsight it wasn’t a bad decision. I think every college aged person has that life affirmation journey, except instead of road tripping to the Burning Man festival or spending a year in Europe, I was swinging mallets, roaching manes, and trading my helmet for a tricorne hat and a double breasted waistcoat. Looking back these experiences were my first emergence into the tangibility of limitless possibility. You learn what you are made of sleeping on hay and bathing in a lake.
I came away from those experiences with a 15.1h pain in the ass; Hondo.
He was a freebie that flunked out of the polo program, who on the surface had a vendetta to the world, but like an onion, his layers revealed so much more.
Have you ever had one of those moments where in frustration you shake your fists at the equestrian gods and exclaim, “why the hell can’t he just be a normal horse?! I just want to …[insert equestrian goal here].” Funny, me too. I thought I knew problem horses inside and out, and every time I gained a shred of confidence that maybe my entire equestrian experience was not a lie, Hondo would set the stage to teach me there was more to learn. The first 10 years together were like this weird marriage with compromises that either party did just to give some self illusion of normalcy, inter-species codependency, and abandonment of all goals and a surrender to what is. I’m sure there’s some premise of a 12 step program in there that I haven’t studied, but yeah. Don’t get me wrong, we had AMAZING adventures together, and we could read each other’s minds, but I left the barn quite frequently in envy of the random gal with a horse that was the same every day and did his job, and in welling tears like some battered horse woman. I did not have the life experience yet to see the beauty in what Hondo and I did create together.
Hondo and his weirdness brought some really incredible equestrians into my journey, and the second decade together was transformative for him, but far more for me. Exasperation and an insatiable thirst for knowledge brought Andy Bashkin (assistant to Michael Matz), Sophie Pirie Clifton, Paul Belasik, Karen Thomas (trained with Jimmy Wofford under Col. Wofford), Patrice Edwards (her facets of amazing are too long to list), Francisco Garcia, and Charles de Kunffy into my life. Yes, I’ve been the girl on the freebie OTTB that won't stand still or go on the bit consistently participating in an international level clinic at Training Level dressage. No shame. Fix us. Y’all can watch.
And we did.
He and I had no problems clearing a 1.2m fence (even in his 20’s), navigating a 2nd level dressage test, riding 25 miles of trails, swimming across rapid rivers, jumping cross country without a bridle, cantering Garrocha patterns, or dragging logs out of the forest. Just don’t ask us to work cows (we both had a MAJOR aversion to cows)
My greatest challenge was the lotus emerging my gift to you, and what Hondo has initiated for me has now helped hundreds of horses and riders across the globe. My last words to Hondo as he passed away on the farm were “thank you” for good reason. I’m here to share with you the pieces missing from what is taught today. To teach you that your horse can achieve greatness if he is guided in a manner that works with him instead of as a weapon against him, and show you that he wants that for himself too! My list of ‘unbelievable success stories’ grows with every single horse I have the pleasure of helping, and every rider that thought too small for themselves and learned otherwise. I am never short on wonder and amazement, nor am I finished learning and evolving as a result of these amazing creatures and the fabulous people, like you, that share their lives with them.
The REALLY early years
Western Pleasure with Mr. Topper
Lipizzaner Stallion Patton, and I
1999
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Saddlebred, Stormin Norman
Hondo, Tack Free 2005
Longlining Jozarra 1999
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My mom and I riding Happy Talk
Hondo in the garden 2006
Lipizzaner Stallion Napoleon 1999
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