Foul Weather - Clean Boot

The weather was appalling on Saturday as we had our first effort at clean boot hunting. A local fell-runner set off to lay a trail, with no scent other than that of his well worn running shoes. It was like being a Texas Marshall chasing a chain gang escapee as the Bloodhounds were set onto the trail. Watching them come out of the woods, sniff around for the trail, then set off with a hue and cry in pursuit was quite something. Apparently there are quite a few local runners keen to act as bait.

After last week when I had finally got MONSTERs bitting sorted out she foxed me (ha) at the start of the meet by somehow dumping her curb chain onto the floor. Before I could dismount to collect it off the floor we were off. Cue 30 minutes with absolutely no brakes. Between halves there was a chance to retrieve it, so her plan failed, this time.

For a non-jumping day the second half contained a fair amount of hurdles, walls and hedges. I jibbed at the wall and hedges when I saw one of the pony clubbers going round. I see no shame in bowing to the wisdom of a nine year old with more experience and better jumping ability than I.

Hedge Hopping

I must confess that as I showed GROOM the five bar gates last weekend I couldn't quite believe that I'd jumped them. Maybe they'd been opened and replaced with pallets, as above.

Everyone was looking forward to yesterdays meet, in hedge country. The warm up was a couple of pallet fences, as above, and a stone wall. Any doubts that MONSTER and i (grammer) had cleared five bar gates was dispelled by fence four, which was a metal five bar gate. We sailed it. In fact as the fences get higher I've noticed that there's more time to get ready for landing. Tuck your head between your legs and kiss your arse goodbye, as the old joke goes.

For the third week running I stayed on board, so I'll tempt fate and say that I'm improving. Woop!

The Kindness of Strangers

Two weeks ago, whilst shivering in Polyester in a horizontal rain, I asked the members of the Hunt where to go for a jacket. INTERNATIONAL SHOWJUMPER said that he had been lent a jacket that didn't fit him and might fit me, and promptly offered to bring it to the next meet.

He was as good as his word, and before we set off I tried on a perfect fitting jacket. 32oz cavalry twill, tattersall check lining. INTERNATIONAL SHOWJUMPER said to wear it and then get in touch with the owner to see if I could arrange to buy it.

This week I got in touch, and asked if it would be possible to buy it. The owner was so pleased that the jacket was being used in the field and not just fancy dress that she refused payment.

In hindsight I shouldn't have been surprised - the hunting field has made me feel very welcome and there's a camaraderie missing from any other part of life I've encountered.

Fluke?

When does keeping a clean jacket become a matter of course rather than a fluke. Two weeks running now. If I can manage three I'll consider myself to be improving.

Driving back from todays meet I was able to point out some of last weeks jumps to RIDER as we drove past in the wagon. It was only then that I realised they were five bar gates.

I am so proud of MONSTER.