The Eriksson family arrived in Fresno late on a Thursday night last August, pulling a horse trailer and embarking on a bittersweet rite of passage. Their eldest daughter, the effervescent Shana, was beginning her freshman year at Fresno State.

Along with Shana, the Erikssons were dropping off a horse. It was Fresno State's team, the only NCAA equestrian program in the state, that had enticed Shana to the central San Joaquin Valley from her home along the shores of Lake Tahoe.

The Erikssons stayed a few days, long enough for one last trip to Target to get dorm supplies for Shana and teammate Kasey MacFarlane, who had become instant, inseparable friends. The young women talked nonstop, and Karan Eriksson left Fresno comfortable that her daughter would be both happy and safe.

"I was told there would always be someone supervising," Eriksson says.

That was the last time Eriksson saw her daughter conscious.

Weeks later, on Sept. 24, Eriksson spent the afternoon riding her horse near her home in Tahoe City. Afterward, she retrieved her cell phone from the jacket she'd left hanging on a fence. The phone showed several missed calls. Shana had fallen off her horse, Noelle, and Fresno State was chartering a private plane to bring Eriksson to a hospital in Fresno.

Three days later, Shana died.

Even before her death, concerns had been raised about the safety of Fresno State's equestrian program. Former coach Megan McGee had resigned -- in part, she says, because she was worried the program and its facilities had become overcrowded and possibly unsafe.

With the coaching staff in transition, Eriksson says, the program was inadequately supervised. Monday, the Eriksson family filed a $10 million claim against the university, alleging negligence, lack of supervision and lack of coaching, among other things.

The university said it cannot comment on the subject of potential legal action, but issued a statement:

"This was a terrible accident that occurred during a recreational horseback ride on the campus farm. Horseback riding has inherent risks that no one, including the university, can entirely mitigate. The campus community at Fresno State remains deeply saddened by the death of our student Shana Erickson (sic)."

Fresno State's equestrian program was elevated from a club sport to varsity status in 1996, quickly becoming a model for other schools looking to add sports for women. Both Fresno State and Brown University in Rhode Island added equestrian programs in response to lawsuits alleging their universities' failure to comply with Title IX, the 1972 legislation that mandated gender equity.

Equestrian had been a club sport at Fresno State for more than 20 years, averaging 30 to 40 riders. After becoming a varsity sport, the program grew from 58 riders in 1997-98 to 104 at the beginning of this season.

McGee says she gave the university repeated warnings about the program's growth and safety. Those warnings, she says, went unheeded. Athletic director Scott Johnson did not interpret McGee's concerns as safety issues, university spokesman Mark Aydelotte says. And when McGee was invited to address safety issues with university officials after the accident, she said she felt it was too late.

"They didn't listen to what I said when I worked there; why were they going to listen to me then?" McGee says. "What do they say? ... 'Closing the barn door after the horse has left the building?' That's how I felt."

When athletes arrived on campus last August, no coaches had been hired. Graduate assistants Nikole Bingaman and Stephanie Reeves were left to oversee the daily operations of a team of about 100 riders and 30 team horses. In addition, 40 student-owned horses, including Noelle, were being boarded at the Student Horse Center.

Before the Erikssons had moved Shana into her dorm room, they had moved the 5-year-old mare, who was recovering from an injury to the stifle -- a joint in the upper hind leg -- into her new home.

Noelle's assigned stall was broken, but there were plenty of open stalls, and Karan Eriksson returned early the next morning to talk with then-barn manager Dana Harris. Anne Rodiek, supervisor of the horse unit, also was present.

"We talked about Noelle and her rehab, we talked about Shana and her needing to be supervised -- she's a young girl, enthusiastic, but you don't want them showing off," says Eriksson, recalling their conversation.

Eriksson says she explained her injured horse's specific needs to Harris, now an assistant coach.

Shana, always eager to ride, took Noelle around the ring while Harris watched from the bleachers. Eriksson explained that the horse needed to be babied and worked only in straight lines.

Harris says such a conversation never took place.

"She asked me if I thought the horse was off, not tracking properly, and I said yes," Harris says. "But no instruction about the horse's care was given to me."

When Shana, MacFarlane and Sarah Farley decided to go for an afternoon trail ride Sept. 24, no one stopped them. In fact, the university says that because the riders were boarding their own horses on campus, no one could have prevented them from riding in an area where other boarders are allowed to ride. Later, Harris said in a police report she was "perplexed" that Shana did not tell her she was going out on the trail, although there are no rules preventing riders from doing so.

According to the university, athletes at the time were allowed to ride team horses in a designated ring only if a graduate assistant was present. The university says official preseason practice did not start until Oct. 1 and that graduate assistants were not conducting practices prior to that. But some riders, including MacFarlane, say they indeed received lessons from graduate assistants before Oct. 1.

MacFarlane told police the three had decided to go for a trail ride because "they were dragging the arena, and we were told not to ride in there for a couple of days." The university says other designated riding areas were available.

"We all had our helmets on; we all had saddles," MacFarlane says. "It's not like we were just out there riding our horses bareback. We all were prepared."

By the time MacFarlane and Farley followed Shana across Barstow Avenue after classes that September afternoon, traffic clogged the campus' main east-west thoroughfare. Although the riders didn't realize it, they were headed in the wrong direction to get to the orchard area they had heard veteran riders describe. Instead, they were riding straight past the university's dairy cow unit. Shana's horse, Noelle, never had seen a cow.

The cows charged the fence, and the horses bolted -- a typical response when confronted with unfamiliar animals.

As MacFarlane turned around, she saw Noelle's legs collapse as Shana tried to stop the horse by turning it in a circle. As Shana tumbled to the ground, the horse fell on top of her. Noelle got up and ran past Farley's horse, leaving Shana behind.

Farley walked over to Shana, assuming she had gotten the wind knocked out of her. MacFarlane called out to her, too. But there was no response. Shana would die three days later from a head injury.

Nearly six months later, Eriksson still is trying to piece together what happened that day. One thing seems clear: Supervision was at a minimum -- partly because coaches hadn't yet been hired, and partly because the NCAA limits the number of equestrian coaches to one head coach and two assistants.

McGee, who shepherded the program through its infancy until she resigned last summer, says conditions were far from optimal for operating a large team safely.

"The potential is always there because horses are big, strong critters and if you put enough things together in a situation with new people, a new area with limited supervision and not enough arena space for everyone to ride in, the potential is a lot greater," McGee says. "A horse can be standing right in front of you and find a way to hurt themselves -- you can never predict that, but you want to take every precaution to try to minimize the risk, to reduce the potential hazards."

Although Fresno State had upgraded the equestrian facilities in the years since the team turned varsity, McGee says they still were "substandard," largely because there simply was not enough space to safely and adequately accommodate so many riders and animals.

Fresno State, with more riders than any other Division I team, is virtually alone in its imbalance between space and horses, McGee says. Not only is there not enough room for riding, but the space to turn out -- or let horses stretch their legs and run freely -- seemed inadequate to McGee. Some programs have older facilities or less space overall but still maintain more space per horse and rider. There were, she says, potential problems.

Art Parham, Fresno State's animal science chairman, disagrees.

"In my view, it's adequate," Parham says of the available space. "We're limited more by the number of horses -- but the horses we have are adequate for the coaching staff and enough for the riders to get in their required amount of time."

When it comes to the safety of student-athletes, the NCAA says the member institution must take responsibility. But one of the NCAA's own rules seems to hinder that responsibility: It allows for only one head coach and two assistants for equestrian teams -- regardless of the number of participants.

"Our membership decided that three coaches was the appropriate number," NCAA spokesman Jeff Howard says. "That leaves it up to the individual institution to determine how large the rosters will be and what three coaches can adequately supervise."

The rule was put in place, McGee says, because schools wanted to be able to tout their teams as fully funded programs. If the limit on coaches were higher and schools couldn't afford to hire the full complement of coaches, they could not accurately tell recruits they offered a fully funded program.

In the end, though, it meant McGee no longer felt comfortable with a ratio of one coach to more than 30 riders. In comparison, Fresno State's basketball teams have one coach for every three or four athletes. In football, the only program that approaches equestrian in terms of numbers, 10 coaches supervise 100 athletes.

McGee says she told university officials they would need more staff, more space and more horses in order to add more riders.

For now, associate athletic director Randy Welniak says, the university is comfortable with its coach-to-rider ratio, although he says he hopes NCAA legislation changes to allow for additional assistant coaches.

Equestrian became a varsity sport as a result of Fresno State's attempt to comply with gender-equity mandates for athletics. The Office for Civil Rights had found that Fresno State fell far behind in gender equity after the California National Organization for Women filed a lawsuit in 1993 against the 19 California State University campuses. Three years later, then-Fresno State athletic director Al Bohl decided adding a sport for women would achieve compliance with Title IX.

In studying which sport to add, the university had narrowed its options to golf and crew. But then-women's tennis coach Irene Harris came up with another idea: equestrian.

"We started investigating and it seemed like a great sport, which women seemed to really love," Bohl says. "It fell into place. Part of Title IX is to provide more women opportunities to participate and, as it turns out, a lot of women were interested in it."

In fact, within one month Fresno State had surpassed its three-year target of 40 riders. When Bohl left Fresno State in 2001, there were 108 riders.

"It was a wonderful situation," Bohl says.

From Bohl's perspective, equestrian seemed like a wonderful choice: It could be added cheaply, thanks to an agriculture department that already had facilities in place. The budget for that first year was $75,000. By 1998-99, the team had a budget of $337,098. And with more than double the number of athletes it had hoped for, Fresno State seemed to be making huge strides in providing proportional equality for male and female athletes.

But others expressed concerns.

Patience Milrod, former chairwoman of the Title IX Equity Coalition of Fresno County, says there were significant problems with the program initially: facilities, availability of scholarships, coaches' compensation. In fact, equestrian was not even an NCAA sport at the time.

Milrod's coalition opposed the move. Then-associate athletic director Diane Milutinovich says she did, too.

"I was concerned it would be used to generate numbers and not provide a quality opportunity," says Milutinovich, now the University Student Union director.

Milutinovich says she endorsed a smaller team, with 30 to 35 competitors, in order to do it right.

Eight years later, the team still boasts a roster that's the envy of universities looking to stay out of the Office for Civil Rights' path. But others are concerned equestrian teams are being used as roster padding.

"Don't tell me they're acting like they're surprised," says Bob Story, longtime equestrian coach at the College of Charleston in South Carolina, believed to be the first school to sponsor a varsity equestrian team. " 'This'll be great for Title IX.' That's how all the programs marketed themselves to the athletic department. So don't act surprised that they're just using us for the numbers. Of course they are."

Partly because of the size of Fresno State's team, the riders don't enjoy benefits other athletes do.

Riders practice two or three times a week -- less than every other varsity team at Fresno State. They buy their own uniforms, which cost at least $200. Their locker room consists of a changing area, storage space and restrooms in a trailer. They clean horses' stalls themselves.

"Does the football team or the softball team get the field ready?" Milutinovich asks. "No. They have managers."

Of Fresno State's current 94 riders, a small percentage travel to out-of-state competitions. And fewer than half travel to in-state competitions.

Money spent on the equestrian program ranked fourth last year in total dollars among Fresno State's eight women's sports. But when broken down per athlete, according to data from the Department of Education and the university, the equestrian team spent less per athlete than any other sport -- $5,287. Wrestling was next-lowest at $6,844. The women's basketball team spent 10 times as much per player, $53,523, as equestrian. Softball spent $34,193 per player. The school brought in $11.4 million in revenue -- football and basketball accounted for 90% of that.

Overall, Fresno State women's teams received a smaller portion of the athletic budget this year than they did last year.

The current equestrian staff isn't complaining.

Says head coach Chuck Smallwood, "I'm just ecstatic, having struggled for 10 years [as a club sport] to make it happen for 30 to 60 riders on zero budget."

There have been improvements since equestrian became a varsity sport: adding a bigger trailer to house coaches' offices, lockers and restrooms; adding another barn; providing practice and travel clothes; financing 15 scholarships, which this season were spread among 57 riders; and hiring the full complement of coaches allowed by the NCAA.

"You always want more, but it grew exponentially from what it started with," McGee says.

McGee, too, recognized the benefits equestrian provided for gender-equity issues:

"Overall, Fresno State did a great job in being able to solve gender-equity problems by adding equestrian.

"I think it's way more than lip service. People would say, 'Oh, you're just padding the roster,' but it was way more than that."

In 1993, the NCAA's Gender-Equity Task Force identified nine "emerging" sports. It was a good-faith effort to create more athletic opportunities for women, says Donna Lopiano, executive director of the Women's Sports Foundation.

"Can you violate the spirit of the law while conforming to the letter?" Lopiano says. "Sure you can. There's no law that can stop people determined to be unethical. The law is nothing more than a minimal standard. You have to trust your gut as to whether someone is trying to conform in spirit or trying to get around it."

Equestrian athletes say they don't feel neglected by the athletic department, except for one thing: They want to ride more.

Sherril Evans, a mother of two Fresno State riders, solved the problem by transporting horses from her home to another barn in Fresno so her daughters could get riding time. Former team member Christa Brown bought her own horse. Others simply left the team.

Equestrian is so far removed from typical college sports that it's often difficult for coaches to find administrators in the athletic department who understand the basic elements of the sport.

Part of the problem, McGee says, stems from the unique way equestrian is set up at Fresno State: It is a joint venture between the athletic and agriculture departments.

It's like "you had two different bosses that don't agree about who's responsible," McGee says. "There was a lot of discussion about who was paying the bills, making sure who was responsible."

Parham says the relationship between the two departments has evolved over the years and that communication has improved.

The sport itself also has unique elements: competition isn't the backbone of the sport in the way it is for basketball or softball, for example. Competitions are broken up into three levels: novice, intermediate and advanced. Some athletes on the team say they have no desire to compete in any category. Last season, 23 of the 93 riders didn't compete at all.

"Some of them just want to be there to experience the camaraderie, to vicariously enjoy what is happening," says Smallwood, who was hired the day of Shana's accident.

When they do compete, it's not under the jurisdiction of the NCAA, which has no rule books for emerging sports.

That has led to confusion over rules. Earlier in the season, when Fresno State injected two horses with a tranquilizer, no one knew whether any rules had been broken because it was unclear which governing body had jurisdiction over the competitions.

Some competitions are governed by the International Horse Show Association and follow its rule book; others are private invitationals in which both NCAA and club teams participate.

Although there are only 13 NCAA Division I equestrian programs, more than 200 college teams compete at the club level, mostly through the IHSA. In fact, most of the competition Fresno State faces is through the IHSA.

"Tradition is a pretty big deal in equestrian, and the IHSA has been around for 35 years," McGee says. "People do feel loyalty to that. They see benefits continuing with something that has been established for so long. Those people might not be as familiar with the NCAA program."

McGee says many of the schools that have made the shift to NCAA status have done so for gender equity reasons.

Last weekend, the equestrian team began wrapping up a successful season. The team was named IHSA region champion in both the English and Western disciplines and competes in the finals April 3 and 4.

"The university sees this as a hallmark program," university spokesman Aydelotte says. "It's one of the unique qualities of Fresno State, that we have a tradition of riding that dates back decades. Fresno and Clovis are noted nationally as a center for riding, so it's natural that Fresno State would have a standout program. We're very proud of it, and it's a focus of future development for Fresno State."

Eriksson says she has spent the season trying to ensure that the future of Fresno State's equestrian program includes a safer environment for riders.

Shana's death, which has not officially been reported by the coroner's office because of delays getting final police reports, also raised awareness elsewhere.

"It has underscored the importance of making sure there are safety nets," says Hoke Wilder, associate athletic director at the University of Georgia. "It's incumbent on each institution to look at their own procedures and make sure. I can't imagine an administration not being aware of issues, or at least concerned about them."

Rusty Lowe, executive director of the American Medical Equestrian Association/Safe Riders Foundation, which works to prevent equestrian accidents, says that because of liability concerns, colleges tend to offer some of the safest programs. But as the country becomes more urbanized, he says equestrian programs need to evaluate their surroundings to make sure there still are safe places to ride.

Nearly six months after her daughter's death, Eriksson says she has grown increasingly convinced that the university has its own agenda.

"It's distressing to me that the university is trying to piece together a story that protects them," Eriksson says. "It seems to me, it's a lack of institutional control."

Fresno State says that after the accident, it conducted an investigation in an attempt to identify areas that could be improved.

"This isn't a question of institutional control in the athletics program," the university says in a statement. "The university works to ensure the safety of riders on campus and will continue to do so."