Fox Hunting Clinic on My Birthday!

A week ago Saturday was my birthday and I spent it at the happiest place on earth–out in the country on horseback! (Sorry Disneyland.) Here’s how the fox hunting clinic/birthday celebration fell into place.

A few months ago something intriguing popped up on my Facebook feed. It was a notice that the local foxhunt was going to have a mock hunt, a clinic, and it was open to all riders! The flyer said Western riders were welcome too.

Feelin’ Foxy Fox Hunting

I really, really wanted to go! As you know, my horse is in R & R mode right now, so I knew I couldn’t ride him, but I found out there were a limited number of horses that could be rented for the day’s event! How perfect!

So one of my equestrian gal pals did a bunch of the legwork in tracking down the right contact who had info on renting the horses, etc (thanks, Amy!). There was quite a bit of back and forth communication that happened to make it all come together.

I had a hint that I had found “my people” when at one point a person I spoke to on the phone said something to the effect of “We’re just a bunch of happy pumpkins who like to get out and enjoy our horses.” I was cracking up at the happy pumpkin part. Yes!!!

With Which Group Should We Ride? First, Second, or Third Field?

As things fell into place, Amy (you might know her from @huntseatpaperco) and I had to decide which group to ride with of the three. I knew we would not be candidates for the first field since we’ve both never hunted before. I mean, I did once when I was about 12. But that doesn’t count because it was so long ago.

The first field group is the one that gallops and jumps everything. Amy said she read that the jumps were 3 foot to 3 foot 6 inches and we both knew that we value our lives too much and so that option was a no go.

The second field was described as trotting and cantering with the option to jump–everything from small logs to presumably the 3 foot 6 fences. That seemed promising. Both the logs and the options to jump or not to jump.

The third field or hilltoppers group mostly walked and trotted. I thought that might be a little too tame.

A Fox Hunting Change in Plan

I signed us up for the second field, but once we arrived at the private ranch and pulled in behind the horse trailer that hauled our lovely bay pals for the occasion, I got a little intimidated. There were trailers everywhere! And hunt members in their red coats and dress boots!

I had asked if I could wear my field boots because the info sheet specifically said to wear dress boots or paddock boots and half chaps–they said yes. I guess it’s a safety thing to not wear boots with laces out in this terrain where there is brush that’s quite tall.

I wasn’t intimidated from a riding standpoint, but more like I was arriving in a new culture and I didn’t know all the rules. Oh, and there was the matter of the old saddle, the one I had a break up with a while ago. The one that I basically can’t sit in properly to save my life. Minor detail. (Not really.)

My “good” saddle was out with Knight where’s he’s rehabbing 70 miles away and when I checked traffic one day after work to see about picking up my saddle to have it for the hunt, the drive time would have been two hours!

I thought, “How bad can riding in the old saddle be? Not worse than LA traffic?”

I was wrong.

Right before I mounted, I met a gal who rides at a hunter/jumper barn near San Diego and she said she had just started hunting last season. I told her my friend and I had signed up for second field and she said that her first time she rode in third field. So that got into my head too: “Newbies must ride in the back.” I asked her what she thought and she explained that there was always the option to move up mid-hunt.

About half way through Amy wanted to move up to second field, but my helmet felt like it was boring into my brain (I have only ridden it for less than an hour before), and my saddle literally felt like I was straddling a piano bench and I had zero leg contact with my horse. Oh, and one other thing: I have led a sheltered equestrian existence (don’t laugh). My steed for the day went in a pelham and I have only ridden in one like one other time in my life! I felt like I had way too many reins to deal with.

I told her if I didn’t have a migraine and were in a different saddle, I’d be game, but it was not in the cards that day. Around this point I kept shifting my helmet up and down, trying to make it not hurt my head. I guess I have a weird shaped head because when I tried all the brands (Samshield, Kask, One K, etc.) earlier this year when I was helmet shopping, this one was the best fit. The next size up in my Charles Owen was too loose. #equestrianproblems

Next time out I will definitely ride in second field.

A Seasoned Field Hunter

When I met “my” horse, he was mostly tacked up. The stand-in Master of Foxhounds (the actual one had an air travel delay from the day before and wasn’t there) asked for my saddle and finished tacking up the already-tacked horse for me. I was shocked. Such service! I wasn’t expecting that level of help.

I was told my bay gelding was the best (they always are), that he loves to hunt, and that she often rides him on the buckle. I told her I had a bad habit of always letting my reins get too long. She said, “He’ll love you.”

Amy and I mounted and kind of walked around near the trailer. Once I was up, I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I knew it would be good to get my horse moving. I looked up and Amy was trotting away. I didn’t join her because I was still taking it all in and not sure what I should do. I didn’t want to get separated from the people who seemed to be in charge. I’m such a rule follower. So I meandered in circles. Literally.

We moved off with our group after some opening remarks. I couldn’t tell you how many people rode in the third field with us but I heard that there were about 80 riders that day.

Pretty, Pretty, Pretty!

The terrain and backdrop were stunning. I felt transported to another state and era. I have never really experienced wide open spaces next to mountains near where I live in California. There were proud pine trees and “riding breeches rust” needles carpeting the ground. Across other stretches of land, sage and low-lying purple flowers displayed their tresses.

Our riding area was a private ranch about 100 miles from where I live. If you look on a map it’s directly south of Palm Springs, but it’s not Palm Springy there. It’s Old Westy. There were enormous bovine specimen chillin’ in the pastures we rode through.

I adored every single minute and reflecting back on this event over the last few days, I’ve realized why this kind of riding made my heart sing: This is how I learned to ride!

Before I took formal lessons with a trainer, I had backyard lessons from just getting out and riding a family friend’s horses. There was a gaggle of adolescent girls like myself and we had literal free rein to ride all day through open fields. We jumped headstones in the graveyard next door to the huge field where the horses lived (with only a run-in shed–that the horses never went in, even in a Chicago winter). We rode a couple miles down the road to a big pond and swam with the horses. We walked, trotted, cantered and galloped when we wanted to, where we wanted to. There were coops and logs and other jumps strewn across the hundreds of acres of the local forest preserve adjacent from the pastures our mounts called home.

A few days after the fox hunting clinic, I got a follow up email from a member of the hunt. In addition to the fabulous ride, I was really impressed with the warm reception we received the day of and afterward. I spoke on the phone with my contact and asked several questions about membership.

Right now an application to become a member of the hunt is on my desk. I’m excited.

Thanks for reading!

Question: What has been your experience with fox hunting? Ever tried it? Currently a member? (And any advice on the migraine-inducing newish helmet?)

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