Welsh ponies Fily and Jazz pull Galt resident Jay Hubert in his carriage on a combined driving training course at his home on the outskirts of Galt. (Brian Feulner/News-Sentinel)

A man and his ponies

On the outskirts of Galt, Jay Hubert trains his Welsh ponies to compete in an ancient sport

In a freshly plowed field between Galt and Herald, a man atop a horse carriage is silhouetted against a grove of towering Eucalyptus trees. As the sun sets, the unlikely image is softened by the sun's golden rays and a haze of dust. It is slightly ghostly, resembling a dream.

As the horse and carriage near the empty country road, neighborhood dogs run to the edge of their property and bark. The Welsh ponies continue to stare straight ahead, still lifting their legs high to what seems like their own beat. They trot confidently past cows grazing in green pastures and fruitless blackberry bushes lining the way. The few passing cars move to the edge of the narrow road as they slowly pass. The man holding the leather reins waves his gloved hand.

In 2008, while most are obsessed with gas guzzlers — and the only association they have to horse-drawn carriages are memories of roadtips through Ohio's Amish country and fixtures in Disneyland — Jay Hubert has made the horse and carriage part of his daily life.

Hubert, a 69-year-old retired Galt man, spends his days training medium-sized horses to compete in combined driving, a sport that involves sitting in a carriage, leading Welsh ponies through obstacle courses of cones while continuing to look forward and walk strong.

"Ponying around is what I do," Hubert says, putting his passion simply.

The love of the game

Hubert competes nationally about four times a year, and about once a month in smaller, local tournaments.

Hubert uses a driving technique called Achenbach to control his horses' reins. (Brian Feulner/News-Sentinel)

Though it's a relatively unknown sport, it is one that is growing in popularity.

"It's probably the fastest growing equestrian sport there is," Hubert said.

It's popularity has also sustained through time. According to Federation Equestre Internationale (FEI), driving is the oldest of competitive equestrian sports.

Combined driving is an ancient sport dating back to the Greeks and Romans. The carriages are now a cross between a "Gone With the Wind" buggy and the "Ben Hur" chariot. While there is a spot for the driver (also called "whip") to sit, there is a platform for the navigator, or "groom," to stand on back. In 1970, combined carriage driving was modernized. Britain's Prince Phillip became interested in the sport and helped create some of the rules that are followed today.

Combined driving is judged on three phases: Dressage, marathon and cones. Dressage is often a challenge because horses must perform while hooked to the carriage. Marathon includes an endurance test through a timed run and obstacle course. Cones also involve an obstacle course that the horse and rider navigate through.

Something to work for

Hubert competes for the fun of it — and for red, white and blue awards that already hang in a dusty room in the barn.

"I have thousands," he says, pointing to the ribbons that are pinned on top of each other and covered in dust and spider webs.

It's not really the prizes he's playing for.

"I like to have goals," Hubert said. "(It) is something to work for."

Hubert's son-in-law and part-time horse trainer, Gerald Verkuyl, says it's one of those hobbies that are just kind of addicting.

"Some people go water-skiing, this family does horses," said Verkuyl, whose 18-month old daughter, Samantha, is already training on horses.

Jay Hubert has been training horses for combined driving for over 15 years. (Brian Feulner/News-Sentinel)

A day on the farm

Hubert's not exactly a cowboy. His daily uniform isn't Wrangler jeans or embroidered leather boots. His cowboy hat is a Welsh horse and buggy cap.

When he's not competing on weekends, he works in his wide-open yard. In his front yard, a white boat floats in a pond beside a short dock, where his wife, Judy, sometimes sits. An overgrown willow tree provides shade on hot days. In back pastures, white ponies nibble grass.

After retiring from the Board of Equalization, much of Hubert's time is spent in the barn he built when he moved to his home from Elk Grove more than 20 years ago. In his barn, the horse stalls are clean and fresh wood shavings cover the ground. Because of the way Hubert designed the building, a sea breeze blows through, providing a relief for himself and the horses who sleep inside at night.

"It's a California barn — built for comfort," he jokes.

Almost daily Hubert trains his nine Welsh ponies. He walks them individually about three times a week, taking them in long loops along empty Herald roads and open yellow fields. Listening to the sound of Hubert's voice, the pull of the reigns and a gentle touch of the long whip at their sides, the horses learn how to move about strong and gracefully.

Hubert places the tack, or riding gear, on Jazz, one of the Welsh ponies he uses for combined driving races with his specialized carriage. (Brian Feulner/News-Sentinel)

"It takes three years to get a well-schooled driving pony," he said. "But it takes seven or eight years to build an advanced horse."

When Verkuyl is available to help harness two horses, Hubert will ride tandem, with one horse in front of the other. He often chooses Fily Coughing Oaks Felicity and Oakdale Ebony Elite, which he calls Fily and Jazz for short.

Jazz is black, except for the white markings at the bottom of her legs. Fily is the younger of the two, and she is a petite, white horse with a feminine face.

At the age of 6, Fily is just a baby in the sport.

"She won't peak until 14 or 15," he said.

Sixteen-year-old Jazz stands between the carriage and Fily. Larger and better trained, she will pull the weight of what Hubert calls the war wagon.

The bond between Hubert and his ponies is obvious. He knows the exact spot on their backs — just under their mane and to the side — where he can scratch them until they can hardly manage to keep their eyes open. He talks to them, saying things like, "Good girls" and "OK, Jazz, here comes the cart." He treats them with carrots, apples and molasses cookies.

"They like being fussed over," he said.

Winding through the orange cones behind his barn, Hubert is in his favorite spot: On his seat, where he uses a stern and loving voice to guide his ponies. As he looks in front of him, he sees the bouncing heads of Jazz and Fily and the sun sinking on the other side of glowing orange fields. It's another day of practice before winning one more ribbon.