Unbridled freedom. The ride of a lifetime. A trust between horse and human like no other. This is how Indigenous athletes describe the feeling of Indian relay racing—considered America’s original extreme sport. Although this high-adrenaline activity is suddenly in the spotlight with a growing fan base thanks to social media as well as shows and films like APTN’s Horse Warriors and Aitamaako’tamisskapi Natosi: Before the Sun, it’s far from a new phenomenon.
Its roots date back centuries, to when European settlers reintroduced horses to Native communities across North America. That totally transformed Indigenous life, especially in the Great Plains region, making traveling, hunting, and raiding—including horse stealing, the sport’s assumed origins—all the easier. The first organized races took place in the early 1900s, and the sport is experiencing a renaissance more than a century later.
A primer, for the uninitiated: In the equestrian relay race, bareback riders gallop atop thoroughbred horses sans saddles and protective gear around a half-mile dirt track, leap down from that steed and onto the next, then do it again for a total of three laps with three different mounts. Typically there are four to six teams racing at a time, with another two horses per team waiting in the “pit crew” area. There, a ground team ensures the transition between equines goes as safely and smoothly as possible, but there’s always a chance things can go wrong. Even so, for the sport’s athletes, the reward far outweighs the risk.
“There’s no feeling like relay—it’s pure euphoria,” says 24-year-old Logan Red Crow, a member of the Siksika Nation (Blackfoot) in Alberta, Canada. “You feel like you’re on top of the world. There are so many emotions to this sport, both highs and lows.”
Logan Red Crow prepares for the Casper Championship Race.
Luke Connor and Ben Giesbrecht
Red Crow, who became a relay rider at 15, is among a growing number of young women joining in the male-dominated sport. The 2023 documentary Aitamaako’tamisskapi Natosi: Before the Sun captured her athletic journey, as she recently prepared for a renowned relay racing stage: the Calgary Stampede. The filmmakers dub the activity “one of the most dangerous horse races in the world” due to the lack of riding and safety equipment—meaning no helmet, no boots, and no protective pads for the rider.
As with any other extreme sport, injuries are inevitable, but event hosts take precautions to prevent them, says Calvin Ghost Bear (Oglala Lakota), president of the Horse Nations Indian Relay Council (HNIRC), which organizes races mainly across the Great Plains. Those safety measures include approving facilities, reviewing track conditions, enforcing horse health requirements, and having vets on-site for pre-event checks. While the race itself may seem chaotic to onlookers, teams go to great lengths in their months-long preparation. Both horse and human athletes tend to take the winter off, with intense training—galloping sessions for the horses and simulated races for the full team—resuming in the spring to prepare for the season.
Indian relay racing takes place at racetracks, fairgrounds, and other venues throughout the United States and Canada, largely in the Great Plains and Pacific Northwest—Idaho, Montana, Oregon, North and South Dakota, Washington, Wyoming, and Alberta—during the summer and early fall. Many events now host men’s, women’s, and even kids’ divisions, though women have long been subbing in on men’s teams. (Women’s races typically involve two laps, rather than three.)
Participation is on the rise, according to the HNIRC, which has been working to boost the sport’s profile. Those efforts have paid off, with a 5 percent year-over-year increase in the youth division (where the minimum age is 6), a 5 percent increase in the women’s division, and an 11 percent increase in entries for the council’s annual Championship of Champions that closes out the season.
But it’s more than simply a sport for Indigenous athletes: It offers an opportunity to overcome some of the issues that plague tribal communities as a result of colonialism, including marked health disparities and high levels of poverty, addiction, and suicide.
“For youth, relay can be a way out and an escape from reality,” says Red Crow, who is on a team called Old Sun and a nursing student at the University of Calgary. “Residential school brought generational trauma to our Native people, and that lives on in all of us. Relay is so rewarding because it reflects your hard work and dedication; we do our best to care for our horses, then they give it back to us on the track.” The sport’s recent rise reflects a wide-ranging revitalization of time-honored traditions that were suppressed due to oppressive colonialism-era policies.
Both Red Crow and 39-year-old Benny Sharphead, a member of Alberta’s Enoch Cree Nation, star in the TV show Horse Warriors. The docuseries follows three teams as they prepare for the North American Indian Relay Championships.
Benny Sharphead is a setter for his team.
Courtesy APTN
Sharphead left a lucrative construction career three years ago to join the River Cree team and help manage their stables. He took a huge pay cut, but he hasn’t looked back. Working with horses has brought him a sense of peace and helped him live in the present, he says.
“Horses are Creator’s gift to everyone,” says Sharphead, whose wife is also on the team and works at the same barn. “In our language, we call them mistatim, which translates to ‘big dog.’ That’s basically what they are; they’re just such loving creatures and you can feel that energy every time you’re around a horse.”
The bond between horse and human is integral, but so too is the trust among the full team. Sharphead is part of the ground crew, which consists of a mugger/catcher (who stops the incoming horse), a setter (who has the next horse ready and steady), and a back holder (who keeps the third horse calm throughout the process). He has bounced around to different positions but most often acts as a setter.
“I’m a good setter because I’m fearless; I really don’t care if I get hurt,” he says. “If that horse wants to rear up, I’m not letting go. I’m going to go for that ride and hold on the best I can. The pressure can feel like a lot of weight on your shoulders, but that’s another reason I love it. It’s like rolling the dice.”
Looking to the future, Ghost Bear, Red Crow, and Sharphead all hope the sport continues to grow in terms of prestige, platform, participation, purse money, and sponsorship investments. But ultimately, they’re not in it for fame or fortune.
“The crowd plays such a big part in relay,” says Sharphead. “There’s nothing like hearing the crowd cheer you on and having everyone shake your hand after a race. Like if someone has a perfect exchange, the crowd just roars and the adrenaline surges throughout the stands. It’s an amazing sport.”
