'The gift comes from the horse': How this growing Indigenous sport is staying grounded in tradition

Snorting thoroughbreds toss their heads and antsy hooves pound an irregular beat into freshly harrowed sand on a hot August day.

The boom of an announcer's voice over the loudspeaker is a cue and spectators sidle up, leaning against — or even climbing on top of — the white rail fence lining the track. 

Excited chatter drifts from the grandstands at Onion Lake Cree Nation’s Heritage Park, 50 kilometres north of Lloydminster on the Saskatchewan side of the border, as the fifth and final day of what organizers call Indian Relay Racing is set to begin. 

“The crowd’s been amazing, the stands been packed every day,” race organizer Candy Jackson said. “Considering there is four relays going on at the same time, 14 amazing teams — humble teams — chose Onion Lake, and I appreciate that.” 

The team sport involves riders racing laps on a track and switching horses. Riders complete three laps bareback, each on a different horse. The exchanges are often high intensity, as riders must dismount and touch both feet to the ground before leaping onto the next horse.

How this Indigenous sport sticks to its roots as it surges in popularity

Collisions between riders, stubborn or overexcited horses, and falls can change the trajectory of a race in seconds .

In the last decade, the sport has been gaining ground across the Prairies. Races are cropping up as staple summer track events, drawing large crowds and drumming up growing cash prizes. 

Tyson Head, a farrier by trade from Mistawasis, Sask., has been racing horses his whole life. Since he started his team T.K. Farrier in 2017, he’s seen passionate fans and six-figure payouts become the norm. 

“We’ve been doing it for nine years now, and we hit a lot of championships and I won a lot of