“I didn’t ‘get into’ horses,” she says with a laugh. “I really think horse girls are just born that way.”
Horse
Woman
What a lifetime in the saddle has taught Brook Power
The road to where Brook Power keeps her horse, Pomp, winds through a manicured Southern California neighborhood before the houses give way to the Santa Monica Mountains. Beyond the last few streets, coastal sage, chaparral, and tall grass cover the slopes, with trails running south toward the Pacific.
Before saddling Pomp, Brook leads the gelding through a nearby gate to warm him up, watching how he moves and getting a read on his energy before heading out for a ride. Afterward, the tack comes out and the two head to the trail. Brook likes riding bareback when she can, but for longer rides into the hills she usually saddles up.
Horses have been part of Brook’s life for as long as she can remember. “I didn’t ‘get into’ horses,” she says with a laugh. “I really think horse girls are just born that way.”
Growing up on Oahu’s North Shore, a local pony club offered riding lessons for ten bucks. It was affordable enough that her family made it work, and before long nearly every spare moment revolved around horses. By eleven, she was sharing an Arabian named Dusty that had previously been used to sort cattle on Kauai. Dusty was a demanding first horse, regularly taking off up the mountain with Brook hanging on.
“He was very challenging,” Brook recalls. “I definitely became a better horsewoman because he was so crazy.” Those early years with that Arabian taught her to stay calm when things didn’t go as planned and showed her how closely a horse reads the person handling it. A change in breathing or tension in a hand rarely goes unnoticed.
“Horses teach you a lot about patience and being honest,” Brook says. “They can tell when you’re faking it, sense your heartbeat, and know when you’re scared. You really learn to regulate your nervous system when you’re around them.”
Part of that is simply paying attention. Horses are powerful and can be unpredictable. “You have to be very present,” Brook explains. Years together have made her and Pomp increasingly in tune, but that awareness never really goes away.
Over the years, Brook took in rescue horses, rehabilitating them until they were ready for new homes. Each arrived with a different background, much of it impossible to know. She began with the basics, looking for the things that made them uneasy. The work might include flexing, groundwork, or simply leading a horse away from the others to see how it responded on its own.
“A lot of them have so much trauma, and it’s hard because I don’t know exactly what they went through,” she says. “I’m doing a lot of desensitization, just seeing what they’re scared of and trying to figure out why. I’m trying to signal to them, ‘You don’t have to be scared of this anymore.’”
Working with a rescue can take far longer than starting a young horse. Some are terrified to leave the herd and head out on the trail alone, while others arrive with reactions that take time to understand. Brook works through those responses without rushing them. “A rescue horse is so much more time-consuming than starting a horse as a baby, who’s almost a fresh, clean slate,” she explains. “A lot of the time, it’s even harder than working with a mustang.”
A few years ago, that work came to an abrupt stop. An accident while riding a former rodeo horse she had rescued left Brook with her pelvis broken in half. Recovery meant rehabilitation and learning to walk again before she could consider getting back in the saddle.
The rescue work has been on hold since, though Brook doesn’t dwell on the accident. “I’m taking a little hiatus from rehabbing rescue horses,” she says. “But it’s a rewarding thing to do.”
For now, her time with horses centers mostly on riding Pomp and keeping him healthy. Pomp has arthritis, so regular movement through the surrounding hills has become part of his care. Brook continues to find new things to work on with him, including riding without a bridle. “I really feel like there’s no extent to horsemanship,” she says. “There’s always more you can do.”
Brook also rides with a close group of women through the mountains surrounding the stables. They follow trails through the grass, cross creeks when the water is running, and climb into the hills where deer move through the canyons below.
“As a woman, it’s so important to have women friends,” Brook says. Horses are “something that we girl out on,” as she puts it. “We can just go out all day together, cross the rivers, be silly, be girly, go up in the hills, and watch the deer.”
Pomp wasn’t always the horse he is today. When he was young, he was wild enough to run off with several of Brook’s friends, but years of steady work have changed that. Today, he’s a horse she trusts around her children. They come along whenever they can, growing up around many of the same routines that shaped Brook’s own childhood.
Brook once imagined making horses her profession. These days, she’s not so sure. “There was a time where I would have loved to make horses my job,” she says. “Now I don’t know if I want that. I don’t want it to become something stressful.”
Someday, Brook would like a ranch of her own somewhere nearby, with enough room to return to rescue work when the time is right. Not necessarily as a business, but simply to take in horses, work with them, and eventually place them with the right people. “I’d love a ranch down the road,” she says. “Take rescue horses, work with them, and find them homes. That would be amazing.”
By late afternoon, the light begins to drop behind the ridgelines and the trails start to cool. Brook turns Pomp toward home, following a narrow track through the tall, dry grass before descending toward the stables below.
