In February 2024, I decided to take a road trip to hunt my way across the US and back after finally being cleared to ride again after a massive back surgery. I hunted all the way to Pennsylvania before turning back west to hunt my way home to Nevada.
At this point in my trip, I had been gone about 5 weeks. During that time, I had hunted in six states, gone to two hunt balls, and come down with COVID and then the flu. The miles were starting to take toll. As I drove through West Virginia on a side road to avoid tolls, I slowed down to take in the mountain creek surrounded by high-elevation rhododendrons. It was beautiful.
Kentucky Pit Stop
I was overnighting at the Cerulean Irish Draughts Farm outside of Shelbyville, Kentucky. This beautiful farm is located just north of the Kentucky Horse park near the Bulleit Distillery. Jeanette Aumon runs the breeding farm along with a bed and breakfast in the historic 1860-era farmhouse. This was the perfect place for me to hole up for a day, as I was only a few days off the flu and less than a week after COVID.
Cerulean Farm is home of the Irish Draught stallion Bridon Belfrey, RID, who is a well-known stallion for many disciplines, including foxhunting. The old man was calmly eating his hay in his paddock and didn’t pay much attention to me as I wandered around on my tour of the farm. His son, Cerulean Southern Cross or “Cole” was another story. This young stallion decided that he loved to have his picture taken and wouldn’t stop mugging for the lens no matter where I went.
Also on the farm was an American Foundation Bulldog Quarter Horse, Jaz Poco Zorro. Jeanette has taken on the task that she would do what she can to preserve the authentic breed type of the American Quarter Horse. Zorro doesn’t give the impression of a rare and important stallion, as he’s too laid back for that. There was a herd of weanlings and yearlings near the entrance of the farm, a mix of Irish Draughts and Quarter Horses. I loved hanging out with the babies, even if Cole was stalking me from the other pasture behind me every step I took.
Jeanette and I went to a Mexican restaurant, talking horses, breeding, and foxhunting. I had the whole farmhouse to myself that night in the BnB and thoroughly enjoyed the enclosed, wrap-around porch. What a fantastic stop on my trip.
See www.CeruleanIrishDraughts.com.
Kansas Bound
Driving through Indiana, I almost had to stop the car and turn around. This cross-country trip had me seeing some unusual sights, but this Indiana groundhog had me laughing so hard I almost couldn’t drive. The very ambitious rodent was literally sitting on top of the guard rail, by the fast lane mind you, watching the interstate traffic wiz by. He was balancing on his haunches, with his front paws just hanging in front of his belly, his head going back and forth as he followed the cars, as calm as one can be. Looking for all the world like he was wanting to hitch a ride; all that was missing was a thumb in the air.
Being early March, Illinois and Missouri were awash in purple henbit that blanketing the endless fallow corn fields. I was beginning to feel a bit road foundered, desperately looking for another hitchhiking groundhog to keep my attention.
Mission Valley Hunt Club Fin and Feather Fixture March 13
Louisburg, Kansas at an Elevation of 1093 in the Cherokee Lowlands
I finally made my way to my friend, Tracy Frank, in Kansas. She lives a mile from the Mission Valley Hunt Club kennels and just down the road from MFH Jane Jeffers. Jane joined us for dinner at Tracy’s house, where I raided Tracy’s extensive bourbon collection.
The next morning, we hunted from the kennel fixture where their Fin and Feather clubhouse is located. The Fin and Feather started in early 20th Century as an all-men’s club for fishing and bird hunting for the Kansas City wealthy. Mission Valley Hunt Club was founded in 1952 with hounds drafted from Mr. Stewart’s Cheshire Foxhounds.
The fixture is just over the Kanas state line from Missouri. Rolling pastures were dotted large silos, ponds, and coverts full of hardwoods. The spring frogs in the many ponds competed for notice by the raucous Red-winged Blackbirds and swooping Meadowlarks. Patches of Osage Orange Trees, with their large, green fruit littering the bridle paths, and Honey Locust Trees, defended by two-inch thorns all along their branches, required an attentive rider as the hounds hunted through the coverts.
The Mission Valley hounds recently drafted a few Penn-Marydels from Shawnee Hounds into their mixed pack of English crossbreds. Most of the English blood came from Hillsboro Hounds.
The hunting day was warm with Bluebird blue skies. I was riding one of Jane Jeffer’s steady Eddie’s, a large drafty mare who knew more about hunting than myself. One of the newly drafted Penn-Marydels found an old coyote line right off the bat just down the road from the kennels and Fin and Feather clubhouse. The line took time and diligence from the pack, so they picked along most of the morning. As the morning warmed up, the new spring grasses and the rising heat worked their influence to evaporate the scent or mask it completely. The day was called after the hounds were spent.
It was Professional Huntsman Ryan Beer’s birthday, so our hunt breakfast was spent at a local restaurant celebrating. I’ve known Ryan since he was the new kennelman for Mission Valley. I’ve always his loved eagerness to learn and the quite professionalism he has. We met at a joint meet in Montana several years ago and shared the unfortunate experience of riding the same terrible hireling one day after the other. I think I bailed on the horse and swapped with the cowboy before the end of day, but Ryan suffered the whole hunt on a horse that had decided it hated hunting.
I was only in Kansas for a couple of days before I headed out to Juan Tomas Hounds’ Closing Meet just south of Albuquerque. I had one more stop on my cross-country of the US. As far as driving days, this was my hardest drive in almost 6 weeks. There is no interstate from Kansas City to Albuquerque, and even though I’m used to driving in the desert for hours, I think the road founder had fully taken hold on this day. And unknown to me, the titanium in my spine was about to start complaining. Loudly.
