Between Horse and Rider, A Handmade Heirloom

In Idaho, Diane Myers carefully crafts saddle pads steeped in ranching traditions.

By Amy Erickson
May 13, 2026

Digital Only

Fiber & Textiles

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Photo by Diane Myers

Pulled wool saddle pads go between a horse's back and the saddle. This pad by Diane Myers features brands from ranches in the West.

In her studio in southeastern Idaho, Diane Myers pulls loops of roving through a heavily starched mesh to make a pulled wool saddle pad (PWSP). It’s a long process that can take anywhere from 10 to 40 hours, depending on complexity. “My work area is typically a mess,” Myers admits with a laugh, noting that wool fibers tend to travel everywhere. “But with a good vacuum, it’s manageable.”

The resulting saddle pads—thick, handmade cushions placed between a horse’s back and the saddle to protect the horse during riding by distributing weight, reducing friction, managing heat, and wicking away moisture—are prized by riders for their comfort, durability, and personalization.

There is a big difference between a handmade pulled wool saddle pad and a commercial, factory-made pad. Mass-produced pads are made from recycled wool or heat-treated fibers and are often dense, compressed, and inflexible. Myers’s pulled-loop design is soft, flexible, and responsive, conforming to the horse’s back like a worn-in sock. The wool loops allow air to circulate, regulate temperature, wick away moisture, and help the horse sweat evenly—reducing muscle tension and increasing comfort.

Photo by Diane Myers

A custom-ordered pad with three-dimensional red roses.

“People aren’t just buying a pad—they’re investing in longevity and performance,” Myers says. “A PWSP molds to the horse over time, unlike many commercial pads that stay stiff. With proper care, a pad can last decades, making it a far better value than factory-made options that wear out in just a few years.”

Myers’s own youth was spent on horseback ranching in California, where her passion for horses and the cattle industry took shape. With it came an appreciation for good working gear. She began making pulled wool saddle pads in the early 1990s, when an injury kept her temporarily incapacitated and off the horse. What started as a way to stay busy has become a lifelong craft.

Myers’s process begins with roving the wool. Working with a long loose bundle of wool fibers, she cleans, separates, and detangles the fibers and draws the wool out into a soft continuous strand. “I split the roving in half to make it manageable,” she explains. The saddle pad’s mesh foundation is prepared with a water-soluble potato starch, pressed to the exact dimensions of the intended pad. Then, with a modified latch hook, Myers begins the repetitive act of pulling loops through the mesh—a technique that has been passed down and refined over decades.

Photo by Diane Myers

Myers teaches six to eight students a year to make pulled wool saddle pads.

“My work area is typically a mess, but with a good vacuum, it’s manageable.”

— Diane Myers

Myers sources much of her fiber from a small, trusted supplier on Bainbridge Island, Washington, carefully choosing sheep wool blends such as ANZ (a blend of white fleeces from New Zealand and Australia), finer fibers such as Merino, and tougher and loftier Romney. She avoids wools like Herdwick, a hard-wearing, coarse gray wool that is better suited for rugs than for pads. “Pick wool varieties that you would wear,” she says.

The patterns and designs that adorn the saddle pads are about more than decoration—they carry deep meaning for riders. Placed in visible areas such as the back corners and edges of the pads, they can signify personal style and regional influences. Complicated designs are carefully composed beforehand. Faithfully reproducing a brand, which can be passed down through generations much like a family crest, is both a tribute to a rider’s heritage and a mark of quality. “Years ago, I started needle-felting brands to get an identical replica,” Myers says. “I always ask clients for a brand certificate or photo to make sure it’s accurate.”

Over half of Myers’s orders in 2025 came from repeat customers who appreciate her one-on-one approach and the ability to customize every detail. Riders value the personal connection to a maker who treats each pad as a piece of functional art, too.

Myers balances her studio work with teaching six to eight students a year in a one-on-one format. With a career spanning over three decades, she brings a level of skill and material knowledge that only comes from years of experience. For many emerging makers, learning from her offers a rare opportunity to study the craft with someone deeply rooted in its tradition.

“My pad-making journey has always been about more than function,” she says. “It’s about art and craft together—the emotion, the expression, the skill. I want to see this functional art form continue, to inspire the next generation to do it well.”

Photo by Diane Myers

Myers works out of southeastern Idaho.

Photo by Diane Myers

A saddle pad with a plumeria design.

Amy Erickson is a Wyoming-based western silversmith, engraver, and bit-and-spur maker specializing in hand-engraved jewelry and gear.

Check out Diane Myers's work online.

Website

This article was made possible with support from the Windgate Foundation.

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