Not going viral. Being the obvious choice.Seen week after week, there's no decision left to make.
What horses you want, what you don't, and what a bad client looked like in their first message. That's what the screening gets built from.
I follow you around and ask you things while you work. No script, no sit-down. Every trainer is a teacher — you've explained all of this a hundred times already.
I cut the stutters and the bobbles. You don't see any of it unless you want to.
They've answered for their horse, their goals, their timeline and their budget before your phone ever rings.
Fill it in as though you were an owner with a horse to send out. You'll see what they see, and what would land in your inbox at the other end.
I ran the content for B1 Horsemanship and grew that page by 80,000 followers in five months. I've also started a few dozen colts, and taken client horses.
So I know what a bad client costs you, and how uncomfortable it is to point a camera at yourself. Most people selling you marketing know neither.
I'm early, and I'd rather say so. I film everything myself, so I can take six trainers — not six this year, six. The first three lock their rate for a year in exchange for letting me use the work and say who it was for.
What I won't promise is bookings. That depends on your rates and how you are on the phone, and any guarantee that hangs on your behaviour just turns into an argument about whose fault it was.
$1,750 a month, and $1,500 once at the start to build the assessment and set the whole thing up. The rate for the first three trainers is locked for a year.
Worth doing the maths honestly: your margin on a horse is the training, not the board, so call it seven hundred a month. Three horses in a year you'd otherwise have missed covers this — before you count the stall that refills in a week instead of a month, or what you're already spending on advertising that doesn't do anything.
Fair. We're not doing dances and we're not chasing views. You're talking about horses the same way you'd talk to a client standing at the rail.
And I take the raw footage home and cut the stutters, the bobbles and anything that doesn't land. If you look good, I look good.
You already know the answer, because you'd give it to a client. Nobody sends a colt for thirty days and expects a foundation. It takes ninety days because it takes repetition and consistency, same as anything worth having.
What you'll be able to count in the meantime is applications from people you'd actually want. Not views.
Then you're further along than most, and this is a shorter conversation. The question isn't whether you post — it's whether any of it tells an owner what you believe, or whether it's mostly footage of you riding well.
Show clips prove you can ride. Every trainer on the internet is proving that. What they don't do is help somebody work out whether their horse belongs with you, and they don't give anybody a way in.
Then half your year is the best half for content, not the worst — that's where the footage is. Cattle, a crowd, something on the line.
We shoot at shows you're already going to, bank footage before the season, or double up while you're home. If it comes to it, cover a plane ticket and I'll come to you on the road.
Half a day, and you don't change your plans. No lighting, no setup, no standing around waiting on me. Whatever you had on that day, do that.
What you'd normally wear to work a horse. If it looks like you dressed for a camera, it doesn't work.
You do. All of it, including the raw files if you want them, and including if we stop working together.
What did they actually make, and what was the strategy behind it? Most of the time the answer is cinematic footage with no plan for turning it into clients.
I'll tell you exactly how all of this works on the call — the questions, the scoring, all of it. There's nothing secret in it. What you're paying for is that it happens every week for a year, and that I know what a bad client looks like in a barn.
Month one the assessment goes live and the people already following you start coming through a door that tells you who they are. That part works immediately.
The content is the slow half. It compounds over about ninety days — that's the part that makes the line longer.
Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I'm working the Front Range and the Western Slope. Two visits a month means I make that drive twenty-four times a year, so I'd rather be honest about distance than take you on and do it badly.
But if they never know about you, how are they supposed to reach out?
Fifteen minutes. I'll ask what you take and what you'd rather not, and tell you straight whether this would do anything for you.