‘I didn’t want to be boxed in as the influencer’: Harrison Ashton on the leap of faith that made him a British team medallist
The 24-year-old dressage star talks about his life before becoming a social media star, swapping the influencer tag for international results and proving himself as a rider on rise, in this exclusive article for H&H subscribers
“I thought I was going to fall to pieces before it,” Harrison Ashton laughs, recalling the nerves ahead of his team debut at the under-25 European Dressage Championships in Kronberg, Germany.
“I couldn’t sleep for a week. But it wasn’t panic – I was excited. I knew our preparation had been the best it could’ve been. I had a fantastic horse I believed in, and people who believed in me. I couldn’t have done any more.”
He was right. Riding Million Dreams – the 10-year-old mare owned by Jesse Honka and his mentor, Finnish Olympian Henri Rouste – Harrison delivered personal bests in all three tests, helping Britain secure team bronze. It was all the more remarkable given the pair had only a handful of tests at that level behind them.
Compare that to his team-mate and friend Annabella Pidgley, who has been stepping onto podiums since childhood and was competing in her eighth consecutive Europeans.
“I remember sitting at dinner with her and her mum about four years ago,” Harrison says. “I hadn’t even really started competing yet, but I told her, ‘One day I’m going to be on a team with you.’ We joked about it – I even said I’d beat her.”
He grins. “I didn’t beat her. But I was so close. And then suddenly, there we were. On a team together. We couldn’t believe it.”
But if you thought his breakout results took the pressure off, think again.
Next stop was the World Cup show at Herning, Denmark, where the pair lined up in the Lövsta Future Challenge for under-25 riders.
“I have to be honest, I was more nervous for Herning than I was for the Europeans,” Harrison says. “Because it had gone so well. I thought, ‘This cannot go wrong now.’ I couldn’t have the Europeans look like some fluke.”
Once again, they rose to the occasion – winning the competition and setting another personal best in the freestyle.
One thing becomes clear as we talk: no one piles on the pressure quite like Harrison does himself.
“The difficult ones teach you just as much – sometimes more”
Before the interview, most of what I knew about him came from social media. With nearly half a million followers and a feed full of polished, well-lit highlights, it’s easy to assume the riding was secondary – especially for someone who hadn’t competed much until recently.
But in person, that idea falls away quickly. He’s driven, warm, unguarded, often laughing at himself. And above anything else, he’s determined not to be boxed in as “the influencer”.
Horses were always part of the picture for Harrison. “I’ve literally had horses forever,” he says. “My parents were into horses as well. I started on Shetland ponies and did a lot of showing.
“But mum never bought me horses ready-made. We’d buy the ones people didn’t want. One of mine, a Welsh section A from Beeston auction, ended up winning everything – lead-rein, first ridden, and we went to the Horse of the Year Show too.”
As he reached the end of school, he stepped away from the show ring and into life on a dressage sales yard, working for Astrid Bolton. By 16, he was there full-time.
“I was riding all different sizes, all different types of behaviour. It was hard work, but I learned loads. Even now, when we get one I don’t click with as much, I know I’ll come away having learned something. The difficult ones teach you just as much – sometimes more.”
Meanwhile, his family were backing his ambition: they sold their house and bought a property with land. “We had two wooden stables and a small 20x20m beach sand arena,” Harrison explains.
“I knew it wouldn’t support a top-level career, but it was a start, and one that I’ll always be so grateful for.”
He bought a Welsh Cob, produced it, and sold it as an FEI prospect. That little cob – and a sandpit with two wooden stables – became the seeds of Kirkland Dressage, the home yard he grew into one of the country’s busiest sales bases.
“From there, I started selling more, and the horses got nicer. I ended up working with big studs and selling to riders I’d looked up to for years – it was all a bit crazy.”
Through all of this, Harrison adds that he knew that without money, horsepower or connections, the usual route into dressage simply wasn’t open to him. So he took a different path.
“I knew the only way for me to grow the business or get opportunities was to be on social media. I couldn’t afford a ready-made horse. I didn’t have the experience. But I knew if I posted, it might open some doors.”
It started with one photo that went viral of him and one of his Welsh ponies – then the next one did too.
“It probably helped that there were hardly any equestrians doing it back then,” he says. “There were maybe four of us. I was still a teenager. Now there are hundreds.”
His sister encouraged him to keep posting, so he did, and by the time lockdown hit, his following on Instagram and TikTok had exploded. Brand deals arrived. A TV crew followed. Sponsors reached out.
“My first job from social media was Changing Reins for Horse & Country. It was straight after lockdown, and I look back and cringe a bit now. I’d never even been in front of a camera before. It was just boom – you’re allowed outside now, and you’ve got to film a full-on TV show.”
But he knew the awkwardness came with opportunities. One sponsor, Martin Collins, even built him a professional arena at home – something he’s still slightly stunned by.
“Without social media, I’d still be trotting around my little sandpit.” But the visibility also brought assumptions: “People were like, ‘You have such a glamorous lifestyle, look at you on a plane again.’ And it’s like – no, I’m absolutely shattered. I’ve jumped on a flight, been there one day, and now I’m back mucking out with my mum.”
The curated nature of social media didn’t help: “You do post the things – like me drinking a piña colada on a beach – but people don’t realise I was there for one day. I just had to get three days’ worth of posts out of it. You create this false perception – that’s part of it.”
And at his core, he was never the archetypal influencer anyway. “I’m actually quite closed. I hate speaking to a camera. I can’t vlog. I’ve tried – I just can’t.”
“I used to be on the sidelines, hoping one day I’d get my chance – and now I do”
But being a competitive, professional rider was always the goal. The first glimpse of what that might look like came thanks to a sponsor.
“I originally came to Henri’s with Sprenger Bits,” he explains. “I was there with them for a visit, and I was just… wowed by it. Watching Henri ride – it was another world. I just thought, OK, this is the level.”
They stayed in touch. At the same time, Harrison was starting to feel that he’d gone as far as he could at home.
“I knew I didn’t want to stay in the north selling horses forever. It’s not what I wanted to do. I always wanted to ride and compete.”
He spoke to Carl Hester, whom he’d met and later trained with, through social media, about going abroad. Carl gave him the same time-tested advice he’s given other young riders who went on to make it big.
“I asked him, ‘Should I go abroad?’ And he was like, ‘Yeah. It’s the only option, really.’”
Then came the nudge that made the decision feel like more than coincidence.
“I spoke to Henri and I wasn’t sure… then I spoke to Lyndal Oatley, Patrik Kittel’s wife, who said, ‘I know the perfect place for you: Henri’s.’ I thought, ‘This is so strange. Everything is pointing me there.’”
Within two weeks in late 2024, he had made up his mind. “I thought, if I don’t like it, I can always move home. I’ve got the yard there. But I didn’t want to look back in 10 years and still be doing the same thing. So I just packed my things and left.”
Henri and his wife Senta’s base, Gut Bertingloh, sits just outside Dortmund, but with its strong Finnish contingent, it delivered a few unexpected culture shocks when he first arrived.
“I went into the shared kitchen, opened the fridge, and there was a full-on carp on a plate,” Harrison laughs. “Like something you’d find in a pond in Britain. After that, I never opened the fridge again.”
But once he was in the barn, he slotted straight into the riding team. “It’s basically me, Henri and Senta riding. It’s a big sales yard, very exclusive. The horses are expensive, amazing quality, but they’re here for a long time – it’s not like you have them six weeks and they’re gone. You really get to develop them.”
Harrison Ashton on being labelled an influencer, not a rider
Still, he had work to do to shake the influencer label.
“When I first moved here, I was looked at as ‘the influencer’. People literally said that to me. And I don’t think they realised I was ever a rider. I wanted to say, ‘Hey, I used to back three-year-olds and do all that cowboy stuff too!’”
At first, he didn’t expect to compete. “I came here just to ride and learn alongside Henri. I never thought I’d have the chance to compete.”
Then Million Dreams – Mildred at home – changed everything. “Henri said, ‘You should try her.’ She was very green; she knew a few of the higher-level tricks, but not much.
“Then he said, ‘You should compete this horse.’ I was like, no way. She was nine, she was green. But with his experience, I thought, OK – I’ll take his word for it.”
That trust meant more than he admits at first. Henri didn’t have to offer him that chance; he chose to. And what hit Harrison hardest was that Henri believed in him as a rider, not as a social media figure.
“It was a huge confidence thing for me. None of this would have happened without him,” Harrison reflects. “I thought, without big financial backing, no one would look at me for the hard work I was putting in.
“Now I can finally show it. And I have to thank Henri for that. He believed in me and gave me the chance to prove myself. I hope other young riders start getting opportunities like this too.”
And now? He’s looking further.
“My dream is the Olympics. I know it sounds clichéd and delusional, but that’s the goal. I’ve watched friends compete for Britain for years. I used to be on the sidelines helping them, hoping one day I’d get my chance – and now I do.”
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Oscar joined Horse & Hound in October 2023 and is the magazine’s dressage editor and sports manager, overseeing coverage of equestrian sport. After studying equine science at Myerscough College, he spent four years working for leading dressage rider Emile Faurie, competing at the 2015 National Dressage Championships and travelling with the yard to CDIs including Aachen and Saumur. He holds a master’s degree in Literature from York St John University (2021).