The Best of Days

Frankly I'm amazed that half the county didn't turn up at the hunt on Saturday. Out to FARRIER on Friday afternoon for a shoeing and every phone call he's encouraging someone to come.

While we have our own nicknames at home for the horses FARRIER of course has his own, THE FELLA is known as CHESTERS, the NAUGHTY PONY is TWINKLETOES, and MONSTER is COLOURS. Or rather she was. Ever since I went out on my first hound exercise he's taken to calling her TOP HUNTER. He may joke, but we had the last laugh.

NAUGHTY PONY lost two shoes on exercise, so naturally we took the urine rather a little. FARRIER gives as good as he gets, and walks up to MONSTER announcing that he's going to fit her with special hunting shoes.

"Those the ones with extra nails?", I ask.

"And bootlaces to help hold them on", RIDER adds.

There was much good-natured bluster from FARRIER, but as usual he did a sterling job on all three horses, all the while inviting the world to come out hunting.

Saturday we had a Jane from Neighbours moment. You know the one. The dull looking girl from class suddenly takes off her glasses and puts some make up on for the prom. And how! MONSTER was plaited, for the first time ever. I couldn't believe I was looking at the same horse, and I was proud as a proud thing before the meet as folk came up and said how good looking she was. Her manners and behaviour in company were impeccable too. As the field got together and the hounds appeared MONSTER stayed as quiet as the proverbial lamb.

FARRIER is a joint master and besides offering us drinks when we arrived he came back before the off to check that I was OK, which was a nice touch. It was only once we crossed the road from the pub (naturally) and walked into the first field that she started to quiver with excitement. With the hounds and huntsman at the front the field was lined up abreast agains the wall, with a crowd of supporters behind us.

Then, with the drag still visible disappearing into a distant copse, the hounds were off and we were away. There really was something special about seeing, and hearing! the hounds streaming across the horizon in full flight, with the huntsman following. The first canter took us up hill, and I was able to let the brakes off fully and give MONSTER her head.

There was no gentle introduction as within minutes we tackled, a bigger upright than I'd ever seen before, followed by a wall. Fortunately it was a step up so the drop on landing was only a couple of feet. Then to my horror the trail turned around and we had to do the wall backwards. This way there was at least a three foot drop. No matter that small children on Thelwell ponies were clearing it, I was scared. I needn't have worried and, picking a suitable moment so that I didn't get stuck behind a horse that looked likely to refuse we were over it and away again.

There followed an hour and a half of exhilaration. Moments reminded me of mountain biking, my first love. Haring through the woods on a track just wide enough for the pair of us, and barely tall enough for her ears. Gate stops where hip flasks full of Malt and home made sloe gin are passed around. Other moments were abject terror. Doing the gate and falling so far behind the field that MONSTER was stopping for nothing was followed by minutes of terror as she set off in pursuit and damn the terrain in between. If the field wheeld around so that we had to change direction the g-forces nearly had me out the side door.

The worst moment came after clearing a wall only to find that there was a fence just two strides away. We cleared it only to find that it led down to a dead end. I'd missed the gate option and was stuck! There was no way back over the fence against the flow of the field, and the way ahead was over a log into water that wouldn't have looked out of place at a three-star^*. Even FARRIER was thinking twice about it and looking for an alternative. After circling MONSTER once I realised that if we didn't tackle it now I'd not have the bravery to try it again, and if I so much as hesitated she'd never get over it. I spotted a suitable gap in the hesitant field and went for it. I slipped the reins in case she pecked and I may have shut my eyes.

When I opened them again we were in the water, heading for a stupid large bank. Without me pulling on her reins to slow her up she was up and off like a rocket. It was only a shame that there was a hunt jump over the wall on my right which we missed, forcing us to circle, otherwise I might have fooled those behind that either of us had any idea what we were doing. By now more of the field was over the fence and away, which gave MONSTER something to chase. For a good mile we galloped after the field, passing them all until on the field master remained in front of us. Even a novice height ski-jump^** couldn't slow our progress, and it was only when we reached the master and hounds that we were finally able to get our breath back. When he caught up FARRIER came over to congratulate us both on tackling the water. I was just so proud of MONSTER for getting us over it alive.

The water jump had split the field, and I now found myself in with those that were a little braver, and/or reckless. You choose. More galloping ensued, and on the final fence before second horses MONSTER pecked on landing and I hit the deck. It had only been a matter of time. I managed to hold onto the reins, and as usual as I came slithering to a halt on the green sward she looked down at me with a "What are you doing down there?" expression. I was relieved that rather than chasing after the rapidly disappearing field she spared a thought for me. While I can fault her manners when I'm riding I can't fault her manners when I fall off.

Once back on board I set off after the field, in the distance cooling off their horses in the river. after another hipflak moment the field walked and trotted back to second horses, where RIDER was waiting with the Masters spare. Together with such of the field that was calling it a day we rode the mile back to the boxes. I couldn't stop grinning and pointing out to RIDER where we'd been. RIDER couldn't believe the things we'd been over. Frankly neither could I. MONSTER watched the field ride away, obviously wanting to stay out with them. Later when she's fitter and I know the countryside well enough to turn round at any point she can ride out longer. Quitting while we felt like we could do more was a good idea. Then, for all her wanting to stay out MONSTER practically boxed herself once she'd been brushed and showered.

Recounting the day to the Field Master while sat in autumn sunlight outside the pub we joked about my moment of fear as we'd nearly overtaken her.

"I was horrified that there was going to be a serious breach of etiquette". I said.

"You mean a bollocking", she replied quick as a flash.

Together, we all laughed.

* There is some exaggeration here, but not much.

** There's no exaggeration here at all!