by Chelsea Sektnan
On a recent Saturday afternoon, horseback riders lined up inside the Empty Saddle Club, tucked quietly into a residential neighborhood in Rolling Hills Estates.
Some wore cowboy hats, others helmets, and others baseball caps. Horses shifted as cattle moved through the arena. A timer buzzed, numbers were called out, and the sorting began.
The event was cattle sorting, a timed team sport in which riders work together to separate cows from a herd and move them through a gate in order. One rider guards the gate to keep the wrong cattle out, while the others search the herd for the correct number.
“People say it feels like camp when they come here,” said Padgett. “You’re riding, you’re sorting cattle, kids are running around, dogs are everywhere — it doesn’t feel like you’re in the middle of the city.”
Along the edges of the arena, dogs waited with their heads resting on their paws — border collies, goldendoodles, and mutts stretched out in the dirt. Children climbed the stands or rode into the arena themselves, learning the rhythm of sorting from horseback.
“There’s a lot of encouragement,” said Sandy Sivert, a board member. “And a lot of teasing.” The Empty Saddle Club is marking its 91st anniversary this year. The club was founded in 1935 in Redondo Beach. It relocated several times before settling on the Palos Verdes Peninsula, where it has remained for decades.
“When you first come here, you start hearing all these stories,” said Jeff Roberts, a new club applicant. “History is a big part of what makes this place feel different.”
One of the first stories new members learn is how the club got its name.
“The name has been part of the club since the very beginning,” said Arbuckle. “It came out of a moment that was funny and unexpected, and it just stuck.”
During a parade in the 1930s, a rider fell from a horse, which continued down the street without its rider. When the empty saddle passed the announcer’s stand, the cowboyless horse was dubbed the “Empty Saddle Club.”
It formed as a broom polo and parade club and evolved into a Western riding and cattle club, retaining the name as its traditions grew.
“It started in Redondo Beach and found a permanent home here,” Arbuckle said. “For 90 years, it’s been a little piece of paradise in the middle of the city.”
The club sits on 13 acres, surrounded by homes and city streets, an unusual setting for a working cattle and horse facility. The club’s survival is unusual in a region where open land has steadily disappeared under housing and development.
“Nobody knows it’s here,” said Chris Fitzpatrick, a longtime member. “You’re in the middle of the city, and you get to play with cows, ride horses. It’s mental therapy.”
Fitzpatrick said access to cattle has become increasingly rare as urban development expands.
“It’s hard to get cattle nowadays,” he said. “With beef prices the way they are, nobody wants their cows running cows. They lose weight, and that affects their value.”
Membership at the club is selective. Prospective members must own a horse, secure member sponsors, and spend a year as an applicant before earning voting rights. During that time, members are expected to staff events and contribute to the facility’s day-to-day operations.
“Everybody works here,” Arbuckle said. “You take care of the horses, you take care of the cattle, you take care of the place. That’s part of being a member.”
For Roberts, who is currently in his applicant year, the commitment goes beyond riding.
“One of the main reasons I became an applicant was preservation,” Roberts said. “It’s more than just learning horsemanship or getting an experience you can’t find anywhere close by with cows. It’s about keeping this place alive.”
“If you own a horse, things break,” he said. “It helps if you come in with skills, but at some point you have to learn them. It’s a teaching and learning environment.”
“It’s not a place where you just show up and ride,” Padgett said. “People pitch in. That’s how this place stays what it is.”
The emphasis on participation is intentional, she said.
“We’re not just a boarding facility, we’re a club,” Padgett said. “We want people who want to be involved in events and activities, not just take care of their horse and go home.”
Keeping cattle on site is a key part of that mission.
“If we end up with members who don’t want cows, we could lose them altogether,” Padgett said. “And then this place wouldn’t be what it is.”
For Zee King, a member for nearly 10 years, the club offers something he has never found elsewhere.
“I’ve been around horses all my life,” King said. “My grandfather and uncles raised and trained horses. I’ve competed coast to coast. I’ve never seen a facility like this anywhere, not just in California, but anywhere.”
King, who works for the City of Los Angeles, said the club provides an escape within the city.
“My career is connected to the city, but my heart and roots are country,” he said. “This lets me escape the city within the city.”
King also runs the club’s breakaway roping program, which meets multiple times a week and draws young riders from the surrounding area.
“A lot of kids from the area have really gotten involved,” he said. “That’s bringing more youth into the club.”
Inside the gates, the sense of community extends beyond the arena. Members drift in and out of the clubhouse, which includes a kitchen and bar and serves as a gathering place during events.
“We do holidays together,” said Karen Hadrick, a longtime member. “It’s one big family. I can’t imagine not being here.”
Several members said that the family-friendly atmosphere is intentional.
“You go through a process to get in,” Arbuckle said. “And once you’ve gone through all that, you don’t want to lose it.”
The club also hosts public-facing events, including Cowboy Days in September, a multi-day celebration featuring cutting, roping, and equestrian “gymkhana” events, as well as community fundraisers and an annual mayor’s ride through Rolling Hills Estates.
As the afternoon sorting wrapped up, members drifted toward Fitzpatrick’s barn, a small, well-worn space lined with saddles, bridles, tack, and a small bar. Horses were untacked, stalls were mucked, and dogs settled in as riders leaned on trucks, traded jokes about missed turns and stubborn cattle, and helped one another wrap up the day. PEN
