Skijoring: Where the Wild West Meets the Slopes

In January, I found myself in Ridgway, Colorado, being introduced to a thrilling world I never knew existed: skijoring. I attended the San Juan Skijoring event, and there, I was struck by a powerful sense of American pride the moment I walked in — Budweisers clutched in every hand, the audience adorned in cowboy boots and hats, and the announcers even blessed the crowd with an original prayer.

Skijoring was unlike anything I had ever seen. It is an extreme winter sport where a person on skis is pulled behind a horse, holding onto just a rope. In skijoring, there are two main events: racing and slopestyle, the latter of which judges the creativity and style of jumps and tricks. This is not your typical Sunday on the slopes; it’s a heart-racing performance that combines skiing’s technical precision with the sheer power of horseback riding.

Tayler Stobaugh, a competitor and ranch manager from Big Sky, Montana, offered her own perspective: “Skijoring is wild! You have cowboys and ski bums intertwined … Sometimes, your skier is jumping a 40-foot gap jump with a truck in the middle or through fire over a hot tub filled with people.” She described skijoring as a sport that “is truly a three-heartbeat team: the horse, rider, and skier.”

In the skijoring world, Stobaugh is also known as Captain America. When asked about the origins of her iconic alias, she explained, “At a skijoring race … I was getting on my horse and split my pants. The only other pair of pants I had with me was these American flag leggings, and I figured it would work for the one race. I had just bought an American flag hoodie, so I shrugged and put it on too. Everyone had a very positive response, and the spectators liked it.” The outfit became her signature. Now, when she puts it on, she feels “unstoppable” — like “Batman stepping into a new personality.”

Richard Weber, a skijoring enthusiast and competitor, shared a unique perspective on the sport. Born and raised in Ridgway, Weber’s family has owned a ranch in the area since 1951, and with a decade of experience, he has won 22 open race belt buckles and competed in over 80 events. Weber revealed the unexpected dynamics between rider, skier, and horse: “You meet somebody, sign up with someone you’ve never met, and go out there. You inspect the track once, ride into the starting box, throw the skier the rope, and take off. It gets crazy.”

Weber also helps organize the San Juan Skijoring event and emphasized the importance of local support: “We’re very blessed. The community backs us as much as they do and believes in everything that we do. We get 100 volunteers or more that show up throughout the weekend and help us put on this giant race.”

Stobaugh similarly highlighted the importance of community within the sport, describing the skijoring environment as “one big family. Your biggest competitors are cheering you on and helping you out.”

Colter Fretwell, a competitor from Bozeman, echoed this sentiment, saying, “The community is the reason I am still involved in the sport. Everyone is very competitive but also supportive of each other … people want to beat you when you are racing at your best.”

If you’re wondering how one trains for this sport, the short answer is: They don’t. “[Skijoring] isn’t a sport that people practice for,” Weber explained. “For me, I just try to get my horses in shape and make sure they’re ready. Well-broke horses definitely shine.”

Despite its roots as a niche sport, skijoring is rapidly gaining popularity. Stobaugh noted, “When I first started, the events were very small and mostly just an excuse to hang out and drink with friends. Now we are competing almost every weekend, and there are big production crews filming at a lot of the races. Every year there are more events … [and] the crowds are growing significantly.”

She envisions an even bigger future for skijoring: “I really would like to see skijoring go into the Olympics. I’d also like to see it televised on ESPN or other sports shows. People love it. I know if more people got to see the sport, their minds would be blown.”

“There is a lot of travel and prep time for a 20-second run, so when you mess up or it doesn’t work out, it really sucks,” Fretwell said. “However, when the stars align, and you are able to pull a good time or win an event, there is no other feeling like it. It’s a very addicting sport.”