Horseback Riding in Spokane’s Riverside State Park

August 12, 2024

Get Out There

A first-timer’s guided summer ride along the river

By Tabitha Gregory

Cover photo courtesy of Tabitha Gregory

On a hot July Saturday, I found myself atop a horse named Serenity, swaying down a broad trail in Spokane’s Riverside State Park. The breeze rustled the ponderosa limbs above, blew up a dusty wake, and charmingly mussed Serenity’s jet-black forelock and mane. Sitting high above the ground on a big animal like this put me way outside my comfort zone.

Over the years, I’ve been minimally exposed to the horse life. As a kid, I occasionally rode with my dad on his parents’ quarter horses. Later, as an adult, I encountered horse packers and trail riders on mountain routes while hiking in wilderness areas and national forests. These brushes with the equestrian led me to appreciate the role of horses in the West and their place in the landscape. Now, as a resident of the Inland Northwest, where ranching and rodeos coexist with backpacking and mountain biking, I thought it appropriate to try out a local ride and experience a familiar park from topside.

I talked my sister, Saree, into joining me for this two-hour outing with Pacific Trail Rides. We met our guide at the equestrian area in Riverside State Park off Government Way on the west side of the Spokane River. Here, there’s a large multi-pen log-fenced corral, a neat barn, restrooms, and a huge parking lot.

We met our guide, a sixteen-year-old nicknamed “Q.” Even in her youth, she appeared the seasoned horsewoman—roughed up jeans, dust-covered kickers, leather belt with a big silver buckle, tanned, and sporting a thick braid that hung down her back.

Saree and I checked out the horses. They all appeared calm and dismissive. One stuck his head through the log slats and nipped at dry blades of grass; another shook her mane, clinking the harness’s bit and hardware in a cowboy sort of way.

Q assigned us horses, taking into consideration our stated tolerance for “feistiness.” Saree was paired with Bailey, known as a biter and for taking pleasure in brushing her passenger’s legs against trees. I claimed Serenity.

I pushed my toe into the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn and cantle, and swung my leg over Serenity’s back. Immediately I felt unsettled, teetering far above the ground on a living being with a mind of its own and the heft to resist any instruction I might give.

Our group set out in single file along a double track, which eventually narrowed to single track, passing through open Ponderosa forest. For the first half hour, I watched every step Serenity took and pulled tersely on the reins when she approached the horse ahead too closely.

Riding a horse is not entirely smooth. A horse must pick its way through rocks, stumps, and fallen trees, shifting its gait unexpectedly, stumbling at times, trotting and slowing as it ascends or descends. Each horse has its own personality, as well. Serenity did not especially like following other horses—the swishing tail of the leading animal seemed to annoy her—so she slyly worked her way to the front. I waved at my fellow trail riders as I passed, “Sorry, I guess we’re taking the lead.”

At last, I settled into the saddle, and while I was still not as relaxed as the confident Q, I began to enjoy the feeling of gently urging Serenity on and allowing her to fully engage with the trail, picking her way through obstacles.

We moseyed alongside the river’s edge at Bowl and Pitcher, plodded under basalt cliffs and scree, and ascended low hills. It was quiet and the air smelled of pitch. We encountered two hikers and saw no wildlife. A little over halfway, our group stopped for water and to enjoy the scenery.

After a languid two hours, we sauntered up to the barn, dismounted, and shook dust off our shoes. Saree and I congratulated one another for a successful outing, stroked our horses’ noses, and offered a nod to the equine heritage of the West. //

Tabitha enjoys exploring, hiking, and skiing in the Inland Northwest. She writes for Out There Outdoors and North Columbia Monthly and is the author of the historical non-fiction book “Valdez Rises: One Town’s Struggle for Survival After the Great Alaska Earthquake”.

No matter your horse-riding aptitude, you can gain a different perspective and experience a ride on the trail with one of these local guide companies.

Pacific Trail Rides