A Day in My Equestrian Life: Fox Hunting Edition 

My heart dropped when I saw the red Chinese New Year signs on the door of 85 Degrees, the Taiwanese bakery from which I was intending to buy baked goods to be eaten the next morning  after our fox hunt. Oh no! Are they closed?! I thought.  Just then a customer looking at pastries came into view. I grabbed the door handle to enter, then I grabbed chocolate hazelnut and blueberry muffins, a few chocolate croissants and two milk buns and took them to the cashier.

“That was a score,” I thought and drove home thrilled I didn’t have to make anything. I set my alarm for 4:45 a.m. to be up and ready to go for a day of fox hunting at the ranch.

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I laid out my clothes and debated what to wear since an email from the hunt secretary earlier in the week stated jackets were going to be optional. It had been almost 80 the day before and I checked the weather which showed the high of 61 for Sunday. I opted for my wool hunt coat as opposed to my lightweight black RJ Classics one, since the mornings can be quite brisk, and if there’s a breeze, it can go right through you.

I filled up my Yeti water bottle and set it in front of the door so I’d be sure to see it on my way out during the wee hours of the morning.

Early in the Morning

When my alarm went off hours later, I lay in bed for too long, then got up made coffee, fried eggs, took my vitamins and human joint supplement.  I then putzed around in the kitchen for too long and realized I was running 10 minutes late. Or maybe I spent too much time putting on mascara meticulously. 

The drive to Knight’s farm is about an hour and 20 minutes away. Although my journey started with blackened skies, a gorgeous sunrise ascended from behind a mountain as I cruised along the 15 Freeway.

When I finally arrived at Knight’s pipe corral, his brown head and forelock covered in hay bits greeted me. It looked like he’d shoved his head into an entire bale of hay! Do you know how hard it is to remove every last little hay scrap from a winter face when you’re in a rush?

Click here to read about my new favorite grooming brush.

I ponied Knight with my vehicle up to the barn’s cross ties for a quick groom. Thankfully he’s got a hunter clip which means he’s blanketed. The majority of his body was clean except for his legs on his left side where he apparently spent the night lying down. I gave him a quarter tube of Ulcergard because #thoroughbredproblems, brushed out his short mane and luscious tail, then quickly picked his hooves (all four feet from the same side–a hack I learned when I went fox hunting in Virginia). I brushed his sweet face as best I could and had about seven minutes until trailer loading time! We were supposed to leave the property at 7:40 to make it in time to move off from the fixture at 9 a.m.

Next I threw on my new Thinline wool half pad which I’ve heard such great things about–both for the horse and riders’ backs. This was going to be my first long ride in it. I placed my County Stabilizer on Knight’s back, girthed it on the second lowest holes, then bridled my boy, twisting the reins underneath Knight’s neck so they wouldn’t be a droopy loop and attached the throatlatch through the reins to keep them up high along his neckline.

I re-haltered Knight and hopped in my vehicle again and ponied him up to where the trailer was waiting. My trainer put back shipping boots on Knight and loaded him while I transferred the all-important baked goods, my Deniro boots, hunt coat, Charles Owen, stock tie, protective vest and water bottle into the back seat of the master of foxhounds’s truck.

I could write a whole blog post, possibly even a book, of the huntsman’s stories I hear riding to and from the various hunt fixtures. Suffice it to say they are wild and exciting. On my last ride he shared about the time he jumped over barbed wire because he was on a horse that was smart and he knew would make it over okay (and just when he was on the approach to the fence, his wife leading second field appeared over the top of the hill and started yelling at him–lol). Then there was the tale of a horse he fox hunted during hunt season and then would take back to the race track when hunt season was over, and the gelding would win money every time!

I’ve heard of retired race horses becoming fox hunters, but I’ve never heard of one juggling two careers at once!

He’s shared stories of his days steeple chasing, doing ranch work, training Thoroughbreds, and a few about Old West life with men he’s known arguing and getting cold cocked. It’s like listening to a movie plot–actually multiple movie plots.

It would be amazing to have a hidden camera on the passenger’s seat while I listen to these stories because I’m sure my shocked expressions and intermittent, “Wow’s” would be highly entertaining to see. 

Back to the actual hunt.

At the Fixture

Azure skies greeted us and the weather was cool but pleasant at the sprawling cattle ranch. I opted to ditch my canary vest and put on my new Tipperary vest.

At first I thought, “Maybe this is overkill since I’m only going in third field today?” However, I’m glad I had it on because our ride took us up some very technical terrain with steep hills, rocks, scrubby bushes and cacti. I felt the extra security and was grateful.

Spoiler Alert: I’m learning that Knight is pretty sure footed and willing to go where he’s never gone before.

The huntsman gave a 10-minute warning and I mounted Knight, then rode around saying hello to my fellow equestrians there for a day of fun. The MFH announced which riders would be leading first, second and third fields. I knew I would be riding in third as Knight is still not a seasoned hunt horse and I’m certainly no trainer or seasoned hunt rider. We’re muddling our way through together with the support of some lovely fellow fox hunters and the help of my trainer–she’s on staff so riding in first field, but I have debriefed with her following each hunt when I’ve ridden Knight.  

We moved off at a trot across a wide open area, and after a few minutes the ground became hilly and turned into thick, brushy cattle trails.  Knight did a fabulous job keeping a good distance from the mare in front of us and staying consistent in his stride. The conditions changed rapidly again as we began the uphill ascent, snaking through an extremely narrow path. The shrub branches began whacking and brushing Knight on the sides and he shifted over quickly, trying to evade the contact. I was almost unseated as a particularly strong branch “spanked” Knight and he jolted.

I could feel Knight becoming more and more agitated/nervous/reactive underneath me from all the branches. My goal in hunting him is for him to have fun and enjoy his job. In that moment he was not having fun, nor was I. 

“We need to slow down!” I shouted to my friend up ahead. “This is too much. Knight’s never been through this type of terrain before.” The woman on the draft behind me agreed and so my friend ahead told the fieldmaster we were going to do our own thing, form a second third field and go at a slower pace. He shared his horse was just coming back into work after time off and mine is still new to the sport. (I’ve decided I should only hunt on days that particular friend will be there.)

By the way, the third field was actually right on the tail of second field, so I was confused how it was meant to be a distinctive group going at a slower pace. If there were true newbies or guests who’d never hunted before, I think that jaunt through the ribbonwood would have made them cry uncle.

Riding along at a walk through the thickest area was much better, and eventually Knight realized that he wasn’t getting hit and being tortured. He became more confident through the brushy parts. We continued our uphill climb for several minutes and I could hear the intense breathing of our horses. We reached an open and somewhat flat area near the top of the ridge and paused to let our mounts take a breather.

The woman on the draft told me my horse was sweet. She said her mare had her face basically in Knight’s tail the whole time and he didn’t react. I had no idea she was that close! My trainer told me Knight is a a good horse to pony other horses off of, and I think he likes most other horses, so that made me proud.

The three of us had completely lost the other groups, but keeping up wasn’t the point. We were trying to ride according to our horses according to the conditions and so a slower pace while navigating rocks and switchbacks was just fine. I wondered how first field gallops through that type of terrain! I can’t imagine!

As we began our descent, we came to an area that was so thick the goat path or cattle path had a branch blocking the trail just like the arm of a  parking garage exit gate. The lead horse walked right through it no problem. Knight got to it and just stood there. If he could speak, he would have said, “Nope!” He clearly was not going to barge through it. I can’t say I blame him.

The woman behind me on the draft said to let her go by because her horse could plow through it. She walked through the barrier successfully, but the force wasn’t enough to break the branches, so Knight and I were stuck.

“Should I just hop off and break the branch?”

My friend in the lead said no because it would be such a difficult area to remount. He said to wait where I was. The draft turned around to join me, as our leader scouted a new trail. We backtracked and met him in the area that was a little more open. Open, but we had to go uphill first to then continue downhill.

A while later we got to a flat area and we had no concept of where the hounds and the other fields were so we were just about to start off at a trot but there were dozens of cattle, some with calves many of them lying down, casually chewing their cud.

My friend in the lead said, “How’s your horse with cattle?”

“He’s seen them before, but not up this close.”

He replied he wasn’t sure if his mare had been close to them either. She’s a newish horse to him. 

We stood for a moment, and then one of my companions saw or heard the field coming our direction. The cows became agitated, and I feared they were going to try to flee the hunt and get too close to us as they made a break to get out of Dodge.

Tongues out, tails up, the hounds and several bay horses came into view, heading down the truck path alongside the fence line. Knight stood like a giraffe, ears perked observing the other horses. The cows were not a concern to him anymore.

First field paused for a few moments, and we continued to watch them from several hundred feet away. They moved off again and my friend in the lead said, “Let’s wait and let them pass and we’ll head back a different direction.” Just as we moved, two riders came galloping by, down the same truck path huntsmen and hounds traversed minutes earlier. Knight froze.

After that I had a few minutes of challenge trying to get him to move forward again. He remained a statue. He has done this two other times in the last month and a half. It’s a new baffling behavior. I actually had a lesson on Martin Luther King Day and my trainer helped me as we tried to replicate a trail ride that went south the previous day with my friend. 

At any rate I was able to get him moving forward again after just a few minutes and he insisted on side passing in a Lipizzan trot while I was trying to have him stay next to my friend’s calm and brave mare. I thought back to Taco Tuesday with my friend’s former trainer who used to breeze horses at Santa Anita. We had a conversation about what to do with a jiggy Thoroughbred. I remember her saying sit back a little and sit as heavy and sack of potatoes-y as possible. 

I don’t love it when Knight jigs. I’m not afraid of the jigs, as I can’t see it escalating into anything more, but it’s just not fun. I was elated Knight was moving forward. Eventually he decided he preferred to do a four-beat walk. Finally! I was thrilled my calm boy returned, and the rest of the way home back to the trailers I rode him not on the buckle but with a pretty loose rein. His forward walk swallowed strides and we soon were back where we started.

After tying Knight to the trailer, on the way to the Porta-Potty I saw an old-school outhouse. It was probably nicer than the Porta-Potty except for the fact there was no door.

I then tried to get a perfect selfie with Knight’s and was trying to gauge his mental state. I keep thinking if he’s not enjoying himself in the field then I don’t want him to be a square peg forced into a round hole. He seemed content hanging out on the side of the trailer next to the pretty mare. 

We got home and I bathed Knight, did some carrot stretches and tucked him into his pipe corral. Then I wiped down my tack.

I ate a leftover chocolate hazelnut muffin on the way home, and thought about my next day in the field.  It was a good day.

What’s a typical day in your equestrian life like? Share in the comments section!

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