After the close of last season, professional whipper-in Erin McKenney was tapped to take over the horn at the Millbrook Hunt (NY). What’s it like to be a first-year huntsman following in the boot prints of a retiring, respected, experienced huntsman and long-time hound breeder like Donald Philhower? Butterflies, sure, but what goes through the mind of a huntsman responsible for giving sport every hunting day? Erin gives us a taste.
Lindsay Baldwin photo
November 5, 2020, 9-1/2 couple
It was a warm, bluebird sort of day with a dry wind which didn’t bode too well for scenting conditions. I took a smaller pack since it is a tight fixture.
I went with idea of taking older, slower hounds, with some younger ones for an educational day. I’m not convinced when young hounds are flying on a coyote that they’re learning a ton, except to keep up. The seasoned hounds may not be so quick under this day’s conditions, and the younger ones should have a chance to really get their noses down and learn.
We started off by hunting through the thick cover without much happening, Hemlock ’15 opened once or twice on the path, but not consistently, and I know he’s got a very good nose. We got to the corn strips north of Beaver Pond with the plan to head to the road and hunt the corn strips back. A few hounds didn’t get that memo and opened outside the corn heading north. They were working a line but not moving too quickly.
With the wind blowing and not much encouragement, they came back to me. As they were hunting the corn a few hounds—Caeser [sic],* Stump, Blazer, Hemlock, and Harvest—took a line across the open. These hounds all have cold noses and are smelling a line that could be ten minutes old or three hours old. But I was a hundred percent sure they were headed towards our quarry.
I was able to pull others forward, which took a minute because of the wind, which was also not letting the front hounds get away too quickly. They diligently worked back and forth as scent was getting blown around through three corn/hay strips, not wasting any time. As the season has progressed and my first season hunting this pack, I’ve learned to trust them.
Once they got into the big block of corn you could really hear them get going. But they had split. With a little encouragement from professional whipper-in Alex Price they were soon all running together, and the cry with only nine-and-a-half couple was not to be believed. It was amazing! Hounds headed south, looping back to the thickets north of pond, and this is where I got the first of six views of the coyote for the day. He was heading back to corn, in no hurry, knowing that scenting wasn’t very good. It took hounds a bit of doing through this very thick piece to stay with him.
For about an hour they ran from corn to thick pond cover, back and forth in counter-clockwise circles. My job was to basically stay out of their way and not put myself and the field in the position of turning the quarry the wrong way, ending our day too soon. Which I have found is easier said than done.
Towards the end of the run we were riding at the end of corn watching the coyote go through strips followed by hounds, noses down, intent on their job. Stump, Caeser, and Blazer were on the front end through the corn. Heading back to original thick cover where we started, we viewed the coyote heading towards the road where we couldn’t go. Hounds kept working the line until they checked, and here I stepped in and cast them every direction except towards the road (not fair to them to recover line to the road and then we have to stop them).
Found nothing, so I was ninety-nine percent sure the coyote crossed the road. Hounds were happily picked up as temperatures were quite warm for November. Allowed hounds quick dip in the pond. It was definitely an educational day for the young hounds, learning about hunting in the wind and sticking with the hunted quarry.
Lindsay Baldwin photo
December 7, 2020, 14 couple
It was a cold day and I’m sure both hounds and members thought I was nuts. But I love going out and watching hounds work in conditions that are less than ideal. The more days that hounds get out the better they will be for it. They don’t learn anything or acquire the necessary work ethic while laying around the kennel.
We were lucky enough to find three coyotes to start the day, each giving us a little go before heading out of country and having to stop them. The first coyote was found by the young hounds, which makes me a little nervous until I’m reassured by Blazer, Batman, Gizmo, and Harvest working diligently right behind the youngsters.
Our second coyote quickly ran out of the country. We got most hounds stopped, except for Guinness, Gator, Gracie, and Cloud who took the coyote on a loop around us before heading out of bounds. I was hoping for the coyote to come back around to where I could put the rest of the pack on with the two working couple if they headed to huntable country. That plan didn’t work out so hounds were picked up. We were at the most southern point from the meet so we headed back, hunting as we went. Then the radio crackled.
It’s former Master John Ike telling me he’s viewed a coyote heading east. I think, OK, I’m heading right to you, they’ll hit this line…boom! Off we go flying west! Well, at least I know there’s one more coyote here going east if needed. We continue flying west…to the road…stopped again. Sorry, guys, I know there’s one more in here and I’m not going to let you down by ending the day having stopped you again. I hack back knowing I’m probably thirty minutes behind the eastbound coyote and wondering if this would have the same outcome as the first three, but I was determined this would be better. By now it was two pm and there were three riders left in the field.
I hack back to where John had viewed, hunting along a corn stubble field, when behind me Harvest ’15 opens with her booming voice. Ah, we have a chance. Stump works diligently ahead, not having opened yet but he’s on the right track. Sure enough, here comes Harvest, Batman, Gizmo,Caeser, and Profit all speaking—these being the cold nose hounds of the day—working across the corn stubble with all hounds on, working hard to the wood line. I knew they had stepped on him when the chorus erupted from the woods. My first thought was, Please don’t run to the road. Phew, they’re headed away from the road. Off we were heading back west to the first swamp, out the west side. Batman and Gizmo not missing a beat, with all fourteen couple under a blanket.
They run a few loops before heading back east into a thicket. Hmm, which way did he go? Out he pops. He must’ve sat down for a few seconds. Ok, you’re all right there. I’m not helping. You figure it out. Five seconds later Profit takes it across with all the others honoring him. Off we go again back west and south to the corn along the lake. Oh, no, did he cross the road?
Road whips Donald and Luis, “No he didn’t cross.” Ok, good. Now the cry is getting louder and louder so I know they’re close to him. Out he pops again, hounds all together close behind, heading back east. By this point I’ve got no field left, hounds are getting tired, but they press on. I follow along. They don’t need my help. They’re working diligently, albeit a little slower now. We keep going east to the corn where they found. Ok, I’ve made the decision that if they check I’ll pick them up. They’re tired and at this point getting a little strung out. In that moment the coyote comes back out in front of me across the corn with Gizmo in his tracks and the others not far behind. We’ll wait and see what happens.
I hear Caeser open in the thicket, but by now I’ve got exceedingly tired hounds who don’t need much coaxing to leave that coyote. A few toots and out they all come to me. They had run this fourth coyote for a hour and twenty minutes. We hack back to the waiting truck as the sun starts to set. I look back to see Solo and Kracken, who think sleeping in the corn stubble is a better choice than taking another step. GPS tells us they’ve run twenty-six miles over the past four-and-a-half hours. Fair enough, you two, I’ll come back to get you. Sure enough, they were curled up in balls and with a little convincing followed me back to the truck.
This was definitely a day of determination which paid off. Hounds and horses ended the day tired but content.
For both these days, three fourths of the hounds go back to Rose Tree Gordo/Gross, a prevalent Penn-Marydel line that Donald Philhower bred when he was at Golden’s Bridge Hounds (NY).
The ‘G’ hounds—Gator, Gizmo, Gracie, and Guinness—go back to Fox River Valley Gala ’09. Gala goes back to Piedmont Watchman ’89, a prepotent bloodline that runs throughout our kennel.
Mixed in with those are American foxhound lines from Potomac Hunt (MD), which former huntsman Larry Pitts helped us to add.
Caeser goes back to old Essex lines, Fox River Valley Carson, as well as Golden’s Bridge lines. We maintain strong bloodlines here at Millbrook that will continue to help us with our breeding program for years to come.
Posted January 6, 2021
* Spelling as per the Stud Book