The Hansma name may be associated with the cutting horse world, but a black and white photo of Gerry Hansma jumping his horse Go Jamie at a Lethbridge show in 1970 explains his training philosophy, an approach developed over four decades.
“You have to find the right job for the right horse,” said the 56-year-old who raises champion cutting horses on his farm near Granum, AB. “It is such a great feeling to be on an outstanding horse that is doing its job well, whether it be a reiner, a cutter, a barrel racer or a jumper. They’re all cool, and fun to show.”
Today, Gerry specializes in cutting horses. He still gets excited when a horse shows natural cow sense. “The good ones are born with it,” he said. “They can read a cow and figure it out, and to do that is pretty special. The instinct has to be there for it to be developed.”
The horse also has to be born with athletic ability, he added. “I can’t train that. They have to have the talent, and then I can shape it into my style. A good cutter can roll over and stay over its hocks. They have good stops, and are flexible and can bend easily.”
But athleticism alone won’t get the job done if the horse isn’t keen on the work. “They have to have a ton of grit and heart.”
Hansma, along with his four brothers, grew up knowing the strain of a hard day’s work. His father, the late Hans Hansma, came to Canada from Holland in 1948, homesteading the farm with his wife Henny. The family was not wealthy, but the boys were raised to take pride in a job well done. “We had to work for a living. We learned there are no real short-cuts. You learned to deal with what you had.”
Always interested in horses, Hans outfitted his sons with ponies, never realizing how large a role horses would play in their lives. They did 4-H and gymkhanas, and showed hunters, barrel racers, reiners, pleasure horses, and at halter.
Gerry’s brothers, Winston and Paul, moved to Texas, and took the cutting horse world by storm. Brother David manages the Claresholm Agriplex, and Taco now lives in Claresholm after years of helping out on the farm.
Asked if he wished he too had moved to Texas — the centre of the cutting horse world — Gerry doesn’t even pause. “Nope,” he answered. “I like the variety. If I get sick of the horses, I can go out and pound posts.” While the shingle on the farm reads Hansma Performance Horses, Gerry and wife Sandy, who markets their horses and shows cutters and trains barrel racers, also run yearling cattle and put up feed. “We get stretched a bit here and there. We have to juggle, but we’re not on the road full-time. We don’t have to hit every show there is.”
Staying home has served Gerry well. He has trained and shown multiple Futurity, Derby and Classic Challenge champions and finalists. He also was named to the Canadian Cutting Horse Association Hall of Fame.
Breeding and training horses isn’t unlike farming when it comes to unpredictability, he said. It’s always a bit of a gamble when selecting mares and stallions. “An individual may be awesome, but maybe it doesn’t pass it on. You can have full brothers and sisters that are so different. You just never quite know exactly what you will get. You have to be honest, and at some point realize that a horse may not end up being quite what you thought it would be.”
Back in his dad’s day, the horse industry was considered a hobby, but with competitive horse sports and large purses, it is now a business. “The majority of our clients are recreational, but it’s certainly our business, you bet.”
Gerry is just short of hitting the $1 million mark in career earnings. He has won the Stampede Futurity Open four times, but he doesn’t keep track of those statistics. “I just try to do a good job. I like training horses and getting better at it. But there are some years when you have good ones, and other years when the horses don’t click. You work your butt off, and grit your teeth. Even at a competition, there are so many variables. The cattle selected, the breaks, the draws.” He has learned by watching riders like veteran championship trainer Les Timmons and from mentors like Canadian cutting icon Bill Collins. “Bill got us started and was a big part of it, and the cow horse era. You learn something from everybody, especially the ones that beat you. You keep your eyes open. You don’t want to get hung up on your way being the best.”
Gerry began winning when he started putting the horse first. “My success started when I realized that maybe I wasn’t as handy as I thought, when I stopped worrying about what I wanted and thought more about what the horse wanted.”
Dabbling in various disciplines as a young rider, Gerry came to respect a horse’s specific mentality and ability. “I learned not to make them do something they are not really capable of. And it’s important that they enjoy what they do. That’s where their longevity comes from.”
Running a business in a weaker economy means being flexible. “Right now, we’re not breeding many mares. With the slow down of the economy, you can buy a horse cheaper than what it costs to train it.” The Hansmas have reduced their herd of brood mares from 15 to five. They have three stallions: Caught Me Lookin (1997 sorrel), Dually Cat (2006 chestnut) and Two Spot The Cat (2006 chestnut).
If bloodlines aren’t producing what you want, then change them, he said. “Just because the papers say a horse is meant to do something doesn’t mean it can. You have to be ready and willing to change. You have to keep your eye on the whole market. You don’t want to just breed small horses that can only cut. You also need something with size and looks. If a horse isn’t working as a cutting horse, my wife may try it out as a barrel racing horse.”
With so many quality horses and good riders competing in the arena, Hansma is kept on his toes. “You have to try and keep up. Keep an eye on who’s winning, and see if there is a way that horse can be worked into our program. But we don’t write big cheques. And it takes a long time to promote a stud.”
Gerry hopes to hang up his training bits by the time he is 60. “This isn’t something I want to do forever. It’s a ton of work. It takes a huge effort and a lot of sacrifices. It takes a physical toll on the body, and it’s hard to keep up to the young guys coming up. It’s competitive. Everyone wants to win, and you never know when your best runs are going to be.”
Looking back at his career, it won’t be the wins and fancy buckles and trophies that bring the biggest smile to his face. It will be those horses he trained that went on to help amateur riders reach their own goals. “To put someone who hasn’t been around stock a lot on a horse I have trained, and see the horse do its job and not fall apart, well, I always get a kick out of it. I stand there and think, ‘Huh, I’ll be darned.’”