Tally Ho Continued

After much milling about the hunt was finally ready to move out. I was so nervous that I thought I would burst -- or maybe it was just excitement. I expected a sudden dashing off but actually people moved off rather slowly. I took my place in the line and tried to stay there and tried to stay very, very quiet. Francie was riding a very exciting dressage horse. In fact, many of the horses were excited and doing things to show how badly they wanted to go for a long and exhilarating gallop with the whole "herd." Heads tossed, hooves scraped the ground, legs worked up and down as the horses struggled to standstill despite the f

act that their bodies were bursting with the energy of a gallop. Rocket went forward and I could he feel his body become electric. But the most he did was to need to walk and trot in circles. What a good horse.

Our field master told us it was okay if we talked amongst ourselves as long as we weren't near the dogs. So I got to know some of the other riders. Heidi was there on a Morgan horse who was dancing with excitement and trying to get away with her. I don't remember the other people in the field. But we moved off at a walk and then at a slow trot. We saw the first field gallop away and soon they were out of sight. We trailed behind them.

Rocket struggled to be the first in the second field. That is the place of the field master so I had to hold him back. I didn't like hauling on his mouth the way I had to to keep him in check. But I could not let him go. The etiquette of the hunt dictates orderly conduct from horses and people.

The next half hour to an hour was all about walking, trotting, and cantering gently and watching the hunt from a distance. The mountains in the distance were blue. The hunt from a distance was spectacular. Flasks came out and mix a this or that were exchanged among riders who knew each other well. The mood became more hilarious.

After we got the hang of things, I asked to move to the first field and was granted permission. So when we had an opportunity (when the two fields came together at one point during the hunt), I cantered  forward and joined the faster field. All this time I was smiling like my face would crack in half. I saw some new friends as I joined the first field. "I'm moving to the first field!" I called out. Everybody beamed. 

But within minutes, the dogs were off, and the first field galloped after them. And I do mean gallop. We started trotting and trotting faster, and cantering, and then pretty soon we were all in a flat out run. We ran across a field, we turned sharply to the left and under some branches and continued on, and then another left, Rocket amazingly keeping up with Thoroughbreds and Morgan horses, and then yet another left and into the woods where we cantered and galloped down a hill and across a gully. When we came out of the woods a hold was called. We waited a few minutes while the dogs rediscovered the scent, and then off we went again at a gallop, this time through a serpentine trail and at one point the horses had to jump a stream. During this ride I fell more deeply in love with Rocket than ever, because he handled himself intelligently and even took care not to throw me off balance. I lost my stirrups once and started to fall forward on him and he brought himself slowly to a stop and then stood still and I could see his attention focused on making sure that I kept my seat. What a smart horse...

After jumping the stream we continued our gallop up the hill and we wound amid the clatter of hooves and mud down the hills, around the edges of tiny fields, and under trees and then emerged from a sharp ascent into a small field with a jump right in front of us. Horses streamed over the jump but I steered Rocket to the right because I have never jumped him and didn't want to start in that situation. After some resistance, he went the way I indicated he should go, and then when he caught sight of the jump out of the corner of his eye, he shied to the right and away from it. Note to self, I thought. Teach Rocket about jumps.

After the jump, a hold was called again and everybody laughed and compared notes about the previous part of the ride. Apparently, this is about as tough as it gets. I felt like I was glowing. Everybody else looked like they were glowing, too.

The hunt continued, following the dogs off along the fields and waiting for them to find the scent again.

And so it went. Walk, trot, Cantor, watch the dogs, watch the "whips" handle the dogs. Gaze at spectacular views, let Rocket grab some grass to keep up his energy. At the holds I stretched my legs and sat sideways on him. The English saddle works very well for this situation. I now understand why the hunt seat is the way it is. You use your feet and ankles and knees as shock absorbers almost like you are on a bicycle, not a horse. It's about flexibility, and balance, and "floating" above your horse. You need to lean forward so you can see the terrain ahead of you. Leaning back in this kind of situation is a mistake, because of the sudden changes. You really want to be over your horse's shoulders. I could say a lot about how much I learned about riding just using the hunt seat in the situation it was designed for.

We rode for many hours, until the sun was beginning to come down. At long last we  (wearily) crossed the final fields and ended up back at the trailers and cars at Francie and David's house.

Then everybody tended to their horses. You could feel in the air the gratitude the people felt for their mounts. Each of us wanted to show our horses just how much we appreciated what they had just done for us. All the expensive gear came out: luxury blankets, soft brushes, pads for legs, combs for main and tail. I saw people massaging their horses. I wished I had a blanket for Rocket because it was becoming chilly and he had worked up a pretty good sweat. Another note to self.

It took a while to get Rocket to get on the horse trailer that was taking us home, because there was a horse on it who was a stranger to him. But he did it in the end and I gave him hay and tied him and and went down to the house for "breakfast." I got myself something to eat and something to drink and then started to strike up conversations with people I hadn't met yet. That was short-lived, though, because someone came and told me that Rocket had gotten out of the horse trailer (!).

I put on my gear again and jogged up the hill to where he was grazing quietly next to the trailer. Clearly, the other horse had done something to scare him and he had actually backed out of the trailer under the bar that was behind his rump. I didn't even know horses could do that. But it was then impossible to get him back on the trailer. Several people stopped to help me and one of them offered to drive us home in her trailer.

That trailer had two other horses in it but they were separated by a high wall. We tried to get Rocket to step up onto the trailer, but he had no intention of getting on another trailer with another set of strange horses. So I took them around to the side of the trailer where the horses were sticking their heads out. He got a chance to sniff them both and the one standing nearest to him was showing curiosity and friendliness. After that when we led him around to the back of the trailer again and tried to get him to step up, he resisted, but not with fear, simply with a preference not to do this. But we worked with him and let him think about it and urged him up and he finally got on.

The ride home was pleasant because my new friend Lee-Lee (I have no idea how to spell her name) was delightful company. We compared notes about our history with horses and about the hunt. Finally, Rocket and I were dropped at the end of our driveway and I led him down to the barn in the dark. The other horses caught wind of him and greeted him eagerly. He walked wearily into the barn and sighed with satisfaction at being home again. I fussed over him and gave him his grain and hay and felt strange to be leaving him to go into the house and take care of myself.

After such a weakened, Rocket and I have become closer than ever. We learned to rely on each other and to care for each other and to enjoy each other's company through 15 miles of trail riding and I don't even know how many miles of foxhunting. Since that weekend, whenever Rocket sees me, he murmurs a greeting in horse talk. I murmur back.

I'm sure I will be writing about foxhunt in the future. This is definitely something I want to do more of, and it is probably some of the best training Rocket could get to prepare for his long-distance competitions.

Our first race is going to be in January of 2009. Contact me if you'd like to help "crew" for the race.