Manhattan's last public stable is still at full gallop

NEW YORK -- On a steamy morning, traffic is backed up on West 89th Street near Central Park.

Moving vans and garbage trucks screech to a halt. Motorists fume. All they can do is honk their horns and watch as a line of eight horses and riders plods out of the Claremont Riding Academy and enters the busy street.

''Look out for taxis!" the leader shouts to seven girls riding behind her. The horses walk serenely in front of the congestion. They clip-clop past a housing project and turn right at a pizza parlor. Minutes later, they disappear into the park.

The traffic begins to flow again.

Horses have been fixtures here since 1892, when a carriage depot was constructed on the site. Today, the Claremont Riding Academy is the oldest continuously operated stable in the United States -- and the last public stable left in Manhattan.

''We have a strong whiff of tradition," said Paul Novograd, whose family has owned the landmark structure for 62 years. ''The idea of running a stable in the heart of New York may sound unusual, but this place is truly our home."

The aging, beige-brick building, filled with hay and oats, sits on a street less than two blocks from Broadway, where elegant brownstones and condos sell for millions. On one side of the stable is a luxury apartment building, on the other is a multistory garage.

Claremont's 50 horses are kept on the second floor and in the basement. On the ground floor is a 75-by-65-foot riding ring.

A few people begin their mornings here with a gentle trot into Central Park; teenagers learn to groom horses and disabled adults combine riding with physical therapy. Children flock to an equestrian summer camp; underprivileged children get their first opportunity to mount an Appaloosa. People who board their own horses at the stable filter in and out.

The years when Manhattan was teeming with horses -- more than 100,000 filled the streets in 1900 -- are long gone. As the automobile became popular, stables such as Claremont began disappearing. They were either torn down and replaced by apartments, or converted into parking garages.

The Novograd family has no such plans, although it briefly contemplated putting the stable on the market this year.

By 6:30 a.m., large floor fans are already humming to keep animals and people cool on another scorching day in mid-July. Over the next 14 hours, the horses will experience a day with highs and lows similar to many New Yorkers.

Tonka, a brown-and-white pony, looks tired and walks with difficulty. The schedule calls for him to ride in the park with young campers, but stable attendants do not think it is going to happen.

''He's got asthma, he's not breathing too well," said Rachel Easton, camp director, patting Tonka gently on his neck. ''In this heat, he'll just have to rest."

Every morning, Easton visits her pals: Mozart, Django, Rigatoni, Patches, Blossom, Bambi, Maxine, Tyler, Gillespie, Tugger, and about 40 others. They are jammed into a building smaller than most rural stables, and getting outside is a must.

Brutus, a perky brown quarter horse, held his head high and looked happy as he sauntered out of the building with his longtime owner. Richard Feldman, 70, vice president of Lehman Brothers, has taken him to Central Park every day for seven years.

''There's something about the outside of a horse that's good for the inside of a man," he said, quoting Winston Churchill. Feldman, who took lessons here as a boy, returned with Brutus 30 minutes later. He gave Brutus apples, then fed the other horses upstairs.

''My day goes downhill from here," he joked, getting into a cab outside the riding academy. ''Nothing else I do today at work will even remotely compare to this."

Some days, life at the riding academy can be glamorous.

For nearly 10 years, the stable's horses have appeared in Metropolitan Opera productions. This fall, Tyler, a little gray pony, will reprise his role as a unicorn in Verdi's ''Falstaff." Casco, a white gelding, will be cast in Puccini's ''La Boheme." Other horses will appear in ''Carmen," and ''Rodelinda."

The stable rotates horses to farms for annual vacations, replacing them with ones that are well-rested.

Some thrive in Manhattan, lasting as long as 10 years. But there comes a time when the city grind gets to be too much, and old age takes a toll.

A sign on the stable's bulletin board urges contributions to the Willow Fund, an organization that takes horses and puts them in ''retirement" homes.

About 35 horses from Claremont have benefited.

''We're like a family here," Novograd said. ''We remember the good times."

There has also been tragedy.

A week earlier, during an adult riding class, six horses had been trotting around the indoor ring. Under the watchful eye of instructor Karen Feldgus, the riders kept their animals at a safe distance from one another to avoid a collision.

Then Hermes, a spirited Appaloosa, moved too close to Forrester, a mellow, gray-white gelding. The two animals collided and Hermes kicked back. It sounded like the crack of a baseball bat.

Forrester held up his shattered left front leg in pain. He collapsed, thrashing on the floor.

Feldgus rushed to his side, shuddering at the sight of Forrester's bruised, bleeding leg. As Novograd hurried over, the instructor raced down the street to a bodega and came back with a big bag of ice for the wound. Attendants gave the horse tranquilizers, but he continued to thrash.

The stable called for a veterinarian. When the doctor arrived, he examined the horse and shook his head. Riders hugged one another in the office; some cried.