Creek diggers at the freshly repaired Natalie’s Crossing. L-R: Back row: Eric Doebbler, Epp Wilson, Lee Ann Carson, Winser Exum, Mike Coke, Terry Cooper, Kelly Holliman, Ed Maxwell. Front row : Anthony Coleman, Andy Blair. / Gretchen Pelham photo
What a day! I arrived at 11:30 last night—six and a-half hours instead of four hours. Siri always thinks I can drive from Tennessee to Judith and Epp Wilson’s in Georgia in just four hours, but I know better. There is a little place called downtown Atlanta that Siri ignores. I always add an hour for the twenty miles it takes to go through downtown. Well, last night Fate gave me a clear run at fifty miles an hour though downtown on a Friday night, hauling my trailer. Holy crap! On a Friday night! I actually saw pavement between cars!
But Fate screwed me on everything else: construction delays, insane fuel stops, so I arrived very late. But today made it all worthwhile. After sleeping in (heaven), Judith and I took their three-month old Crossbred puppies for a long walk this morning, a horseless trail ride. It was the two of us, the foxhound puppies, her Gracie and Marty house dogs, and my Holly. Who was in heaven. And worn out. She’s going to sleep for a week.
Then we went foxhunting this afternoon. Belle Meade and Tennessee Valley have always had great joint meets at Belle Meade. Somehow, our Penn-Marydels and their Crossbred hounds hunt amazingly together.
Today, hounds hit a line within ten minutes of being cast and it was a barn burner! An hour and a half of running in amazing country. A double Rough Rider, as Belle Meaders say. I was invited to ride with Barbara Lee—Master Epp’s Honorary First Whipper-In. Of my entire foxhunting career, hunting with Barbara accounts for three of my top five hunts ever. She always has me in the perfect place with lead hounds, and today was no different.
We heard the strike hound, a deep voiced Penn-Marydel hit the line of a black coyote. I mean we were right there. We just missed seeing the coyote. What followed was one of the most fun hour-and-a-halves I’d ever had. We got on a thick trail with saplings that tried to rip my ears off, a few ditch crossings that even Phillip, my masterful ditch horse, almost bit it on. I don’t know how we stayed upright on two of them. We ran and ran, all on a loose rein. Phillip has always been worth his weight in gold, but today he was worth twice his weight in gold.
Digging up the stump: (l–r) Terry Cooper with shovel, Ed Maxwell with pick. / Gretchen Pelham photoTo cap off the day, Epp decided that one of the crossings that Phil and I almost fell at needed to be fixed before tomorrow’s hunt. An inch of rain was expected overnight, and the creek would have been too high to fix in the morning. So at 0800-dark along with a few hot buttered rums, a bunch of Belle Meaders and I went to Natalie’s crossing with axes, shovels, and Sakrete to dig out the crossing to make it safe.
Natalie’s Crossing is a key crossing on Wrightsboro Creek and used often. The Sakrete bags aren’t even opened; they’re laid in the water like sand bags and they set up overnight. It took less than forty-five minutes with all the hands, including digging out a stump! Don’t mess with Belle Meaders when they get a burr up their butts. And after they’ve had a few libations.
I don’t think I will be able to walk tomorrow, but what a day! Today affirms my love of hunting. It affirms my love of traveling to different hunts; spending time with like-minded others in a different part of the country; my deep appreciation of being outdoors; and working in partnership with an animal, the horse, whose brain is the size of an orange but whose heart is the size of an elephant. An animal that wants what you want: to be in that primal chase—the age-old uncertainty of chasing down the game only to be thwarted by said game at the last minute. To double back, cut over the previous line, foul the scent in a creek, and then circle around to do it all over again. I can’t say thank you enough to the Belle Meaders today. It was an awesome day. And we get to repeat it tomorrow!
Posted February 8, 2018
Shaving back the creek bank: (top to bottom) Terry Cooper with shovel, Ed Maxwell with pick, Epp Wilson with Sakrete. / Gretchen Pelham photo