Deputy editor Jack Haugh tried out horse logging for the first time. 

WHEN it comes to horses, I know as much about them as I do mycorrhizal fungi. In other words, not a lot. But when the chance came to try my hand at horse logging, this year’s APF felt like the perfect time to make hay out of the opportunity. 

(Apologies for any more horse-related puns that might follow.) 

So there I was, on the second morning, finding myself being introduced to Max from France.

Weighing in at 900 kg and a striking white in colour, his calm nature belied his appearance, which was reassuring when Gabriella Seymour handed me his reins after a brief overview and told me to give it a go. 

Slowly navigating our way around the course – under the watchful eye of an increasingly daunting crowd of schoolpupils and other showgoers – I was surprised by just how intuitive it all was. Max was essentially steered by a gentle tug of the left or right rein (imagine a pedalo and you’re on the right lines), with a shout of “Come now!” being used to start proceedings. Similarly, a “brrrrrp” noise brought him to a halt; at least on the occasions he didn’t stop for a drink, another horse’s hay, or some low-hanging leaves. 

“It is definitely becoming much more of a viable option,” said Gabriella. “There are a lot more places where horses are really useful and we want to not disturb the woodlands or the soil.”

After one lap around the course – which went surprisingly well – it was time to take things up a notch with the introduction of a log. As Gabriella attached the wood to his swingle tree (the more basic bit of kit), she pointed out a nearby logging arch that can be fitted for more advanced manoeuvres. Surprisingly, she explained that much of the gear is imported from America and Sweden, because: “We lost a lot of our own equipment when horse logging died down. The Amish never stopped using horses for work, so we use a lot of their equipment.” 

I thought it was all going to go wrong while trying to attach a log to the swingle tree when Max started to clamber over some timber, but Gabriella quickly reassured me he was just “showing off because of how calm he is”. She added: “You want a forestry horse that will sort out his feet.” 

L-R Jack Haugh, Max and Gabriella SeymourL-R Jack Haugh, Max and Gabriella Seymour (Image: FJ/AG)

“As a rule, horses can pull their body weight, but that is not all day,” Gabriella continued. “Max weighs about 900 kg, which means he can, in theory, pull 900 kg. But when they are working all day, he’ll probably pull 500 kg at a time. They can get out a good tonnage in a day. We do try to work downhill at every site; it makes it easier for the horse.” 

While my sole trip round the course with the wood paled in comparison in terms of tonnage to what Max could do in a day, it was just as smooth as the lap without the timber (one minor collision with a tree aside). 

One minor accident aside, it all went pretty smoothly One minor accident aside, it all went pretty smoothly (Image: FJ/AG)

So, what if I fancied giving it all up at Forestry Journal and moving into horse logging full time?

“A horse logging apprenticeship is about 18 months, but you keep learning on the job,” Gabriella explained. “You never stop learning. There’s never a dull day working with horses.” 

Sadly, I probably won’t be joining the British Horse Loggers anytime soon. But if I – a complete novice – can successfully shift some wood after less than 20 minutes on the reins, then maybe it’s time forestry stopped horsing around when it comes to horse logging.