First “hunt,” age 5, riding a mini borrowed from the Dozier clan for Belle Meade’s annual beagle hunt.Time…where does it go? How could I have accumulated so many memories in such a short time? It seems like only yesterday that I was hunting with pure abandon, escaping from the realities of life, and enjoying nothing but the thrill of running wildly through the woods, listening to the cry of the hounds, feeling the cold air rushing past my ears, and at the end of the day relishing the after effects of the adrenalin rush. I had been hunting for about fifteen years or so.
Then, over the past few years (has it been six already?) there was a gradual change in life and attitude. Time passed, and with it some of the reckless abandon was replaced by a more conservative respect for staying in the saddle and on top of the horse. This was brought on by the responsibility I incurred when I decided that bringing my granddaughter, Alayna, into the hunt would be a good idea.
Instantly, my focus shifted from unbridled escape to that of assuring my charge was safe and sound at the end of a hunting day. I became aware that trotting at a strong pace was a lot more challenging when you were watching out for a young rider bouncing around in the saddle. Also, she let me know it was fast enough.
Again, time passed, and the young rider began to gain skill and confidence. Trotting at any pace was no longer exciting enough. Now, cantering at a good pace was fast enough. By then, I had become comfortable with a trot and had to up my game. She was riding a mare I thought would be too much for her, and doing so with confidence. I was now struggling with a young horse and a young rider! Where I had become complacent with the steady trotting and occasional run, she was starting to itch for that reckless abandon which had once filled my soul! Was I getting rusty…or old?
First Junior Day hunt, age 7, riding Copper, her new hunter. (On Junior Day, all the old scarlet coats are pulled from the closets of the community and draped over the juniors for the photos!)More time passed, and this time more quickly. Alayna had developed into a more daring soul after two seasons hunting, minimally after the first season and more notably during the second. The off season came and we lost the mare she had become so comfortable riding. She had to pursue her riding on a new mount—the young horse I had been working with for the past two years. But she was ready and willing, stating in a matter-of-fact tone that she wanted to hunt, so she would learn to manage the horse. So, with guidance, coaching, and encouragement, she was on her way. By the middle of the off-season she was yelling to me to “Come on, Nana! We have to jump!” And, off she went to lead me over the coops!
Author and granddaughter out for a casual summer trail rideYes, time goes by quickly. It still seems like it was just a short time ago that my granddaughter was only five years old and going on her first bunny hunt. She spent that whole day giggling—a combination of fear and glee—every time the pony trotted. I knew she was hooked then. Now she is eleven years old and giggling as she canters over fields and fences, having made new friends and having become part of the family of foxhunters she was introduced to only a short six years ago.
Here’s hoping for more time. I need it to reawaken that reckless abandon I once had. (Maybe somewhat less reckless at this point.) Now, the tables have turned, and the little girl who I was supporting is now supporting me. Though she is by no means grown up, she is on that path. And I am happy to say that it is a good path, with good people, and good experiences to continue to share along the way.
Posted January 14, 2020
The author is a member of the Belle Meade Hunt (GA).