Hunt Reports

Central Otago Hunt, South Island, New Zealand

Second and final installment by national award-winning journalist and author Karin Winegar

At midweek Glynne Smith, MFH of the Central Otago Hounds (COH) and I drove up to a meet above the Ida Valley. Mountains stretched away below us in silver, slate, lichen and plum. Glynne greeted farmers driving a pickup truck carrying a wrinkle-nosed ram uphill in spatters of cold rain, shepherds crooks rising from their truck bed.

Chill wind buffeted the phantasmagorical rocks at the top of the ridge where we unloaded the horses. Lord of the Rings Riders of Rohan scenes were filmed in this forlorn country. And Ted Ottry, a COH whipper-in who had been an extra in the film, rides a white Thoroughbred he purchased from the Lord of the Rings herd.

A few minutes after moving off, we faced an uphill six-strand bare wire fence. Etta easily sailed it, and Glynne zoomed past me grinning under his white mustache: “Ha! Now you are one of us.”

Cheshire Honorary Whipper-In Paddy Neilson, Huntsman Ivan Dowling, and professional whipper-in Stephanie Boyer at Brooklawn  /  Noel Mullins photo

Mr. Stewart’s Cheshire Foxhounds (PA), founded in 1912, are celebrating their Centennial this season. W. Plunkett Stewart, a Philadelphia banker, set out to find the perfect hunting country and settled on the rolling hills, rich pastureland and extensive woods around Unionville. As what in modern terms could be classed as a committed environmentalist, he purchased thousands of acres of land and, before reselling, amended deeds to restrict development and nurture conservancy, clean water, and natural habitat. As a result of his efforts and the culture of conservation he passed on, the Cheshire hunting country today boasts thirty square miles and twenty-six thousand acres free from ribbon residential and commercial development that has allowed foxhunting and National Hunt racing to thrive.

Central Otago Hunt, South Island, New Zealand

First of two installments by national award-winning journalist and author Karin Winegar.

Yes, they jump wire.

Wire and mostly wire fences, three to four feet high, five or six taut strands with a top strand, often barbed, is what contains New Zealand’s thirty million sheep, defines its vast stations, and renders rides thrilling for outsiders.

No one—at least not the Kiwis—thinks anything of it.

Kiwi horses, harrier hounds, and riders just barrel cheerfully along in a landscape that resembles (depending on the hunt country and the season) Provence, Africa, Montana, Ireland, California, or Norway. And given the size of New Zealand’s population—only 4.4 million—there are lots of horses, hounds, and riders.

Professional huntsman Andy Bozdan cast the Tennessee Valley Hunt Penn-Marydels early on the morning of October 13, 2012 at our Berry Hill fixture, owned by the Dobbs. The country consists of cattle pastures dotted with thick cover and lots of hills.

After a slow start, hounds hit a line in the woods outside of the Dobbs' house, and what ensued was an amazing day of sport and a smorgasbord of quarry—red and silver foxes and yellow and gray coyotes—one or more of which were viewed by nearly every field member.

Five-Year-Old Anabelle Small holds huntsman Dulany Noble's horse, Smitten, after the meet. / Elizabeth Martin photoWednesday, October 17 was a perfect day for cub hunting in Central Maryland. The morning was clear, crisp, and chilly, the dew covered the ground, and the fall foliage is coming into full color. This Carrollton Hounds fixture—Ships Quarter Farm—is one of my favorites, not only for the quality of hunting but also for selfish reasons as it is where I board Joe, Jr. It means a more leisurely morning as there is no hitching up the trailer and driving to the meet.

This day would see small fields and me leading the Second Field as our regular Field Master was indisposed with work. After hounds were off loaded, announcements made, and guests welcomed, MFH and huntsman Dulany Noble rode off for the first draw, the bottom of Cranberry Creek below Ships Quarters. This covert is always productive as Sir Charles makes it a home. This summer we had two cubs that would come out to play in the driveway and pastures.

At age fifty-five, Rick Burtner discovers new adventures. / cell phone photo by Betsy Burke ParkerIn September, I rode with the Old Dominion Hounds (VA) on my first fox hunt. It was an early start from Julia Theriot’s Poe’s Run and a crisp fall morning at the outset with a few shivers to be had by all, but it soon warmed into a beautiful sun shining day with many riders sporting beads of sweat as we neared the end of the hunt. The transformation of the cold morning into a warm, sunny day was reminiscent of my experience preparing for foxhunting.

Steve Price and Frosty test their mettle at Old Dominion / Tom Sullivan photoI wouldn’t consider myself a real foxhunter.

True, I’ve ridden to hounds several times, but always more like a spectator than a participant. This September, however, I had an awakening!

Thanks to the good graces of my friends Betsy Parker, proprietor of Hunter’s Rest in Flint Hill, and Norman Fine, of Millwood (and Foxhunting Life), I’ve been wending my way for the past four years from my New York City home to steep myself in semiannual Virginia equestrian sprees. Trail riding on Betsy’s school horses and on one of Norm’s hunters, Guitar, is the primary lure. In addition, Norm has taken me hunting with the Blue Ridge Hunt in the hilltopping field.

Huntsman Ken George (foreground) and whipper-in Bill Sipp  / John Webber photoThe Moingona Hunt (IA) had a great start to the season. I joined Steve Satterly, ex-MFH, and Matt Lange—local cowboy turned foxhunter and whipper-in—for the season’s very first cub hunt on a hot, dry day in the Flint Hills of Kansas. Huntsman Ken George took out twenty-two-and-a-half couple of hounds.

The inhabitants of the Lake District, home to the venerable foxhunting foot packs of Cumbria, have always been superstitious, their lives governed by beliefs and ritual to prevent bad luck. There were many beliefs, but the one I remember best is that in Wasdale a mother did not wash a baby’s arms until it was six months old. This, it was believed, would stop the child growing up to be a thief. As time passed, superstition of events and the cause of happenings became less, or did it?

On July 23, 1995, Alan Hale in New Mexico and Thomas Bopp in Arizona discovered, independently, an unusually bright comet outside of Jupiter’s orbit.

Now the approach of this comet in 1997, which became easily visible to the naked eye in the night sky, did not register on the radar of Pete who only saw stars after closing time, and would never dream of looking to the heavens anyway on his way home from the pub up the streetlight-less road. As the comet neared the sun it became brighter still in the night sky, and the talk in the billiard room was of nothing else. Even hunting took second place.

Nancy Wilson at the Rock Dam in the Belle Meade hunting country  /  Amber Guy photoHow many times have we heard the old saw that ninety percent of life is just being there? Before hound exercise one evening, members of the Belle Meade Hunt (GA) were challenged by beastly weather. By not allowing themselves to be defeated, they were rewarded by a sight none had ever before seen at a locale in their hunting country that is famously familiar to many traveling foxhunters—the Rock Dam.

Epp Wilson relates their experience.