Whisper Words of Wisdom: The Quiet Confidence of Renée Kalkman

Renée Kalkman and Qupid at Rebecca Farm. Photo courtesy of Jessica Kerschbaumer.

I was camped out in front of the TV last summer, all settled in to watch the live stream from Rebecca Farm generously provided by our friends at Ride On Video. A Canadian rider with whom I was unfamiliar stood quietly in the start box for the CCI3*-L aboard a striking chestnut horse. The horse pricked his ears, looking steadily around but containing his excitement. The rider reached down and gave her horse a hug, quietly leaving her hand on his neck while she whispered into his ear. Seconds later, they were kicking away and out to tackle the cross country.

A few months later, I watched the same rider do the same thing in the start box at Woodside Horse Trials. This intrigued me. Of course, we all talk to our horses in the start box. But her quiet manner and the way her horses stood in the box, one ear cocked back to listen, stuck with me. So as any reporter would, I sought her out on Facebook and followed her. And what I found was a story worth its weight in inspirational gold.

Renée and her father, Arie Kalkman. Photo courtesy of Renée Kalkman.

You have to zoom in close on the map of vast British Columbia, Canada to locate Renée Kalkman’s hometown of Fort St. John. A town of just over 20,000 spanning just 13 miles in area, Fort St. John isn’t exactly an eventer’s paradise. Renee, 19, says she’s one of just two eventers in the area — the rest of the equestrian community consists mostly of ropers or other Western riders.

Growing up, Renée caught the horse bug from her father, Arie Kalkman, who alongside her mother, Diana, immigrated to Canada from the Netherlands before Renee was born.

“My father always loved animals and wanted horses around,” Renée recalls. “Shortly after they moved to Canada, my dad got some Quarter Horses and would take them out on his fly fishing trips.”

Renée has fond memories of riding in the front of her dad’s Western saddle, blazing trails together as he would whisper tidbits of sage advice in her ear. “Soft hands.” “Don’t pull.”

As her riding progressed, Renée soon discovered her passion for eventing. A blue eyed, dappled gray Arab cross named El TiVo would be her first eventing mount. Unlikely as it may have seemed, “TiVo” went on to carry Renée to her first international starts, including a trip to NAJYRC in 2015.

El TiVo showing his scope. Photo by Brant Gamma Photography.

Eventually, Renée needed a mount that would suit the upper levels a bit better. After a few different horses, each leaving a lasting lesson in her toolbox, Renèe and her family acquired Qupid, a 2006 Thoroughbred gelding who had not only raced but had also gone through the chuck wagon circuit before finding his way to her.

Chuck wagon racing isn’t for the faint of heart, and it’s also not for many horses. When “Q” came to Renée, he was broken, both mentally and physically. She released him into his new pen, where he would stand for hours in the corner, the light completely gone from his eyes. He was also older than many prospective event horses typically are when they begin their retraining; at nine years old, Renée knew she had a long climb to get her new project to a healthy place where he could embrace his new job.

“He was a troubled soul,” Renée says. “His body condition had completely regressed, he was covered in bite marks, and it took a long time for him to begin trusting people again.”

Renée says Qupid has been one of the most challenging horses to figure out, given his nervousness and his sensitivity to noise from his chuck wagon days. But once she began working more closely with the gelding, she found that he wanted so badly to be soft, kind, and quiet. Through patience and kindness, Renée has produced Qupid now through the Advanced level — in fact, he would become the first horse to take her around an Advanced track, at Twin Rivers in the fall of last year.

Renée Kalkman and Flame Eternal at Rebecca Farm. Photo by JJ Sillman.

Moving up to Advanced and completing multiple CCI3* events with two self-produced horses (Renée also has another Thoroughbred, Flame Eternal, with whom she’s working away at the international levels) is no small feat. It’s even more impressive when you factor in her gritty, do-it-yourself lifestyle.

Growing up, and even today, Renée didn’t have much in the way of access to training. Instead, she says, she’s spent countless hours studying in order to improve her riding. Her father spent time auditing any clinics or lessons she participated in and studied right alongside her, so as to better serve as his daughter’s eyes on the ground when she needed them. Renée says she’s a huge fan of watching live streams and videos of riders she admires — there is always something to be learned, a lesson to take home.

“I was always that kid at the warm-up who liked to sit there on a bench for hours watching the riders work,” she says. “I loved watching them work through problems and seeing how they approach questions. I’d take what I saw home and try things, keeping track of any improvements I felt.”

At one point, Renée and Arie would hitch up the trailer and head out for a seven hour road trip for dressage lessons once a week with Casey Dermott. Throughout high school, Renée was also a competitive speed skater. Typical days consisted of school, skating practice, followed by hauling the horses to the local arena to ride. Those nights, it would be after midnight when she and Arie would get back to the house.

Does Renée wish for a bigger equestrian community, more access to coaching and support? Maybe a little. But mostly, she values the sense of self-sufficiency and confidence that she’s cultivated.

“Part of me definitely wishes I lived in a bigger riding community or closer to events and shows,” she says. “Coming back here after competing in California alongside others who have the same goals is wonderful, and sometimes I do feel like I’m a bit isolated up here. Relying on a coach is good, but at the end of the day you have to be confident that you know the answer to the question. I think it really makes you more accountable to your horse when you’re the one pulling the train.”

Photo via Renée Kalkman.

Renée credits both her father as well as her longtime coach growing up, Robin Hahn, for instilling much of the foundational knowledge that she’s built on. She understands the value of dressage — a skill that doesn’t come as naturally to her Thoroughbreds — and makes every effort to stay in communication with Casey Dermott, who will often “coach” Renée through text or video.

In 2019, Renée was selected to be a part of the inaugural Bromont Rising program. The travel grant she received enabled her to make the trek to contest the CCI3*-L with Flame Eternal, who Renée says is freakish in talent. The chestnut gelding is nine this year, and Renèe has big plans penciled in as she continues to dream of one day competing at the CCI5* level.

Renée and her father drove for five days, crossing Canada, to Quebec for Bromont. A clear cross country round had her nearly in tears as she felt all of her hard work and sacrifice paying off. She says she wishes they’d gone a bit faster, but that will come in time.

As a part of Bromont Rising, Renée was invited to attend a dinner with keynote speakers Boyd Martin and Jessica Phoenix. During his speech, Boyd said something that resonated deeply with Renée: “You cannot be normal if you want to be exceptional.”

“Everyone giggled a bit when he said this, but then I thought about the true meaning of what he was saying and it really connected with me,” Renée recalls.

With horses she’s produced herself, self-taught, mostly self-coached, and very self-motivated, she holds on to Boyd’s words as daily inspiration. But at the end of the day, she says, looking out for and doing right by her horses is her biggest goal. She knows how much they give us every day, asking for nothing in return.

Which is why you’ll always see her, in every start box, whispering words of gratitude in her horse’s ears. Perhaps she whispers some reminders taken from the hours spent in the saddle with her father. One quiet moment, and then a kick away to chase those flags.