SIOUX CITY | Sensing something’s up, Thunder Nation begins prancing in place, ready to lunge from his stall. The American Saddlebred is a spirited, high-stepping horse with speed, stamina and style. He’s anything but average.
After the five-gaited show horse has been groomed and saddled, Isaac Deurloo slips his boots into the stirrups. Heels down, shoulders back, the owner of 7 Wonders Stables sits poised as Thunder Nation smoothly moves around the arena, carrying his head high, displaying a distinct style of riding within the English disciplines called saddle seat.
Deurloo, 38, moves with the horse. He’s not a rag doll rider. Nor should he be.
He’s been working with horses since he was a boy. His parents started a side business of raising, breeding and training Arabians. His dad was working on the railroad, so the family was constantly on the move. Once they got more horses that got harder to do.
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They settled in Sioux City in 1989 and bought a property along 41st Street. About 10 years ago, Deurloo and his wife, who is a teacher, took over the operation after he learned the ropes of running a horse business through three apprenticeships, which meant low pay and long hours. But that’s what it takes.
“Ever since I was 5 years old, I knew I wanted to do something with horses,” he says. “I had no idea it was going to look like this. It’s been a long arduous process, but I mean, what else are you going to do? What else is worth it?”
At 7 Wonders Stables, he boards and trains 30-40 horses at a time from all over the country in addition to offering riding lessons. The owner of Thunder Nation lives in Idaho. Deurloo is getting him ready to show for the first time at an event in Kansas City, Mo.
The horse elegantly ambles along a wall of mirrors in the indoor training arena. Like a choreographer, Deurloo watches their movements in the reflection.
“They want to be guided and worked,” he says about the horses he trains, adding that they don’t want a bumbling rider jerking at the metal bit in their mouths. “They want a dance partner.”
Thunder Nation gets a good workout, circling a set of stalls with other horses anxiously watching from behind bars.
Usually, they get pretty riled up when one of the horses is let out. They’ll buck and kick at the walls, demanding their turn. But on this humid day in July, their energy seems to be sapped by the heat. One horse rears, but it’s a short-lived protest.
After a brisk warm-up, Deurloo puts Thunder Nation through the paces.
“James, crack the whip,” he calls from the far end of the arena. The stable hand flicks the object above the ground as the horse rounds the corner. Wuh-pah. Wuh-pah.
Thunder Nation breezes by, unfazed.
That’s what you call bombproofing a horse. Exposing him to strange sights and sounds makes him less likely to spook and, in the long run, a safer horse to ride.
“We dictate every single thing we want,” Deurloo says.
He can control the rhythm of the canter by putting pinky pressure on the reins. The horse’s perked ears cock back to listen to the sound of the rider’s voice. He changes gaits. Once he starts to canter and trot, he doesn’t want to stop, but Deurloo brings him to a halt, crooning, “Good boy, good boy.”
The dark chestnut horse is huffing slightly and his nostrils flare a bit with each breath. His coat glistens with sweat. Deurloo dismounts.
“We make riding enjoyable,” he says. “I want everybody that comes here to have a good experience. You don’t want luck or chance to be your plan. Once we keep people safe, you can have a lot of fun.”
