How I keep my saddle dry on a rainy drive to an event

Rain on competition morning changes the packing routine before I have even loaded Archie. A damp saddle is more than an inconvenience: moisture can mark polished leather, encourage mould in the flocking and panels, and leave the seat unpleasantly cold when I am trying to concentrate on dressage, show jumping or a cross-country warm-up. After a few wet trips, I stopped treating the saddle as just another item of tack and started packing it as carefully as I pack my show clothes.

My system is fairly simple, but it depends on layers and preparation. The saddle gets a clean, dry cover first, then a waterproof outer barrier, and finally a position in the vehicle where rain cannot reach it when the tailgate or boot is opened. I also pack a spare towel and a way to air everything at the venue. That last step matters in Australia, where a cool Sydney shower, Melbourne drizzle or Brisbane humidity can keep leather damp for hours.

I start with a completely dry saddle

The best rain protection begins before the saddle goes near the car. After riding, I wipe away sweat, arena dust and any muddy splashes with a slightly damp cloth, then allow the leather to dry naturally. I do not put a waterproof cover over a saddle that is already wet from cleaning or from Archie’s back. Trapping moisture inside the cover creates the clammy environment I am trying to avoid.

Once the saddle is dry, I check the girth straps, billets, stirrup leathers and flocking for grit. Small pieces of sand can rub against the leather during the drive, especially when the saddle shifts in a boot. I lift the stirrups, straighten the leathers and place a clean saddle cloth over the seat and panels. For a competition saddle, I prefer a thin, breathable cloth rather than a thick fluffy pad, because bulky fabric can hold dampness against the leather.

I keep leather conditioner for a separate day. Heavy oil or conditioner immediately before a wet journey can make the surface tacky and may transfer onto the cover. A light wipe with the product I normally use is fine when the leather needs it, but the main priority before travelling is clean, dry and protected. At home in regional Victoria, I can usually leave the saddle inside overnight, but I am more cautious when travelling from a humid area or packing late after an evening lesson.

The saddle gets two layers of protection

My first layer is a proper padded saddle cover with a secure zip or elastic edge. It protects the leather from rubbing against other equipment and keeps the stirrups from catching on straps. I choose one with a soft lining and enough room for the saddle to sit without pressure on the cantle. A cover that is too tight can pull at the stitching and leave sections of the panels exposed.

Over that goes a waterproof saddle cover or a large water-resistant gear bag. Australian saddleries and online equestrian shops carry plenty of ripstop, canvas and coated-fabric options, and I have found that a cover designed for horse gear generally fits better than an improvised household bag. Some riders use oilskin-style covers, which are useful in persistent rain, while others prefer lightweight coated nylon that folds into a small pocket. The important features for me are sealed or protected seams, a closure that does not gape, and enough length to cover the underside as well as the seat.

I avoid wrapping the saddle tightly in thin plastic on its own. It can work as an emergency outer barrier, but plastic against leather can trap condensation and make the saddle sweat inside the wrapping. If I need extra protection, I put a breathable saddle cover underneath and use the plastic only as the final temporary shield. I leave a little air space rather than compressing the whole bundle, then remove the outer plastic as soon as I am under cover.

A large waterproof duffel or dry bag is useful when several pieces of equipment are travelling together. I never rely on a standard fabric saddle bag by itself during a downpour, even if it is advertised as showerproof. “Showerproof” is enough for a short walk from the tack room, but a long drive through heavy rain needs a genuinely water-resistant outer layer and sensible placement in the vehicle.

I make the vehicle work for the weather

Before loading, I dry the boot or cargo area and clear away anything that could puncture the saddle cover. In my car, the saddle sits flat on a clean rubber mat, with the pommel and cantle supported so it cannot roll. I put the waterproof bundle away from the boot opening and keep a dry towel between it and damp rugs or muddy boots. The saddle is never placed directly under a wet rug, even if the rug is folded neatly.

Utes need extra care in Australian weather. A tonneau cover can stop light rain, but water can still enter around the tailgate or collect in low points. If the saddle must travel in a ute, I use a rigid, waterproof storage box inside the canopy rather than trusting a loose cover. The box is secured so it cannot slide when braking or cornering, with padding around the saddle to prevent it knocking against the sides.

That arrangement also fits the basic road-safety principle behind the Australian Road Rules: a load needs to be secured so it cannot fall, shift dangerously or obstruct the driver. A saddle is heavy enough to become a serious projectile in sudden braking. I keep it low, stable and separate from loose poles, buckets and grooming equipment. Nothing is stacked on top of it, because pressure can damage the tree or flatten the panels.

I load the saddle last when rain is already falling, or at least after the rest of the tack is ready. That reduces the time the boot is open. In Sydney or Brisbane, where a sudden storm can arrive while everything is being loaded, I keep the saddle cover and a large towel inside the house until the final trip to the car. In Melbourne, I check the boot again after driving through persistent drizzle, because small leaks can be less obvious than a dramatic storm.

I protect the saddle while unloading

The most vulnerable moment is often arrival, not the drive. A saddle can stay dry for two hours and then be soaked while I am carrying it from the car to a stable or temporary tack area. I keep the outer waterproof cover closed until I am standing under a roof. If there is no roof, I carry the saddle with the cover over it and use my free hand to keep the opening facing away from the wind.

A separate dry towel lives in the front passenger area, not buried beneath rugs. I use it to wipe my hands before touching the zips, because muddy or wet hands transfer dirt directly onto the cover and leather. I also pack a spare waterproof bag for wet covers. Once the saddle is safely indoors, the outer layer can go into that bag rather than dripping across the tack room floor or onto the clean saddle cloths.

At an event, I place the saddle on a rack or a clean raised surface rather than leaving it in the boot. I open the outer cover first and inspect the inner cover, especially around the cantle, pommel and girth straps. If everything is dry, I leave the breathable layer loosely closed until I am ready to tack up. If it feels cool or slightly damp, I remove the waterproof layer and let air move around the saddle.

I do not use a hairdryer, heater or direct sun to force the drying process. Australian summer heat can become surprisingly intense inside a parked car, and direct heat can dry leather unevenly or affect adhesives and stitching. If the weather clears, shade and ventilation are safer. At a wet venue, I would rather carry a damp outer cover home separately than close it around the saddle again.

I pack for condensation as well as rain

Rain is easy to see, but condensation is what has caught me out. A warm saddle placed into a cold waterproof bag can produce moisture inside the bag even when no water has leaked through. This is particularly noticeable when driving from a heated house into a cold early-morning paddock, or when moving between Australia’s hot inland conditions and a cooler coastal venue.

For that reason, I do not seal the saddle in an airtight bag hours before departure. The padded cover goes on at home, while the waterproof outer cover is added just before loading. If the saddle has been sitting in the car, I open the outer layer briefly whenever I stop somewhere dry and safe. I never open the boot on a busy roadside, but at a service station or venue I can check the bundle without leaving it exposed to rain.

I also keep silica gel packets in the equipment cupboard, although I do not scatter them loose inside the saddle cover. A reusable moisture absorber in the larger gear box can help with damp rugs and covers, but it is not a replacement for ventilation. Anything that becomes wet gets separated from the saddle. Wet saddle cloths, fleeces and towels go into their own plastic-lined bag, while the saddle remains with clean, dry fabric.

After returning home, I unpack immediately. The saddle cover comes off, the saddle is checked under good light, and the cover is hung open until it is completely dry. If I find a damp patch, I wipe it gently and leave the saddle in a ventilated room. With the humid conditions common around Brisbane and coastal New South Wales, I am especially careful not to put the cover away while it still feels cool or smells musty.

My event-day routine keeps the system repeatable

I keep the packing routine the same whether Archie and I are heading to a local dressage day or travelling several hours for eventing. The night before, I check the forecast for the whole route rather than only the venue. A clear forecast at home does not help if the drive crosses a wet section of the Great Dividing Range. I also check whether the venue has covered tack areas, because that changes how many dry towels and outer bags I need.

The saddle is marked on my packing list alongside the bridle, girth, stirrup leathers and show pad. That sounds obvious, but busy event mornings create strange opportunities for leaving important items behind. I pack the saddle separately from Archie’s wet-weather rugs and keep a small “dry kit” beside it: two towels, one spare saddle cloth, a plastic-lined bag for wet covers and a clean cloth for wiping mud from my hands.

At a venue, I tack up as late as practical so the saddle is not exposed to rain while Archie waits. If the warm-up is wet, I use the cover whenever I am not mounted and keep the saddle under shelter between phases. After dressage, I dry the saddle before moving on to jumping, rather than assuming the waterproof cover prevented every splash. Cross-country adds mud, water and gallop spray, so I pay particular attention to the girth area and underside of the panels.

This method has saved me from arriving with a soaked saddle more than once. It is not complicated or expensive; the real difference comes from using a breathable inner cover, a reliable waterproof outer layer, a stable place in the vehicle and enough discipline to unpack promptly. Archie’s gear is ready for whatever the Australian forecast delivers, and I can focus on the ride instead of wondering whether my saddle has stayed dry.