Riding with Belle Meade Hunt- Jan 2013

   Riding with Belle Meade Hunt- Inaugural Hunt Week 2013  - by Barbara Smith, Marlborough Hunt

           

  There are perhaps six or seven American hunts that I might compare to the seven mountain peaks that world-class mountain climbers aspire to conquer. These hunts share a reputation for big fences or very fast chases behind coyote, or a hunting style that is demanding and requires a certain level of excellent horsemanship as well as athletic, fit horses. I would put Green Spring Valley Hunt and Elkridge–Harford Hunt of Maryland, Mr. Stewart’s Cheshire Hounds in Pennsylvania, Piedmont Hunt in Virginia with its big stone walls, as well as Lynn Lloyd’s Red Rock Hounds in Nevada in this group. And, without a doubt, I think the Belle Meade Hunt in Georgia now goes to the top of my list.

                  I had the privilege recently, to be one of the first guests for their inaugural hunt week in January 2013 and it was the fastest hunting I have ever done. I was literally flat out on my Thoroughbred ex- racehorse, following Epp Wilson, Huntsman and Master of the Belle Meade, and their Crossbred hounds after a Mr. Wiley Coyote! It was some of the most fun I have ever had on horseback, flying through southern pine forests, barely keeping up and hardly ever viewing the quarry we were chasing! There were 7 of us, all experienced riders, 5 from Bull Run Hunt, led by the irascible Rosie Campbell MFH, and 2 from Marlborough Hunt in Maryland, myself and Joanie Martin, a friend who grew up hunting in Ireland.

Jean Derrick

                  We arrived in Thomson, Georgia, at the Belle Meade Hunt kennels on Sunday night about 7pm. It was a 12 hr drive from southern Maryland but very manageable. However, do not trust your GPS directions to get you into the kennels. As the dark was descending we did a not-to-be-repeated U-turn with a loaded four- horse trailer on a lonely country lane, as we seemed to be lost and about to head into their 40,000 uninhabited acres of hunt country. We did find the stable/kennels shortly with only a few more frayed nerves. Our lovely host, Jean Derrick was waiting in her lovely hunt home nearby and we all shared hellos and quick introductions. I had met Jean at the North American Field Hunter Championship several years ago. Always impeccably mounted and turned out, she was the Grand Champion that year on her lovely grey mare. Over the next couple years, competing at the Championships, we became good friends. She was always a finalist and I never was, as I am always on ex-racehorses, wearing figure-8 nosebands with a gag bit. Not really what they are looking for, but I always had the best time and thoroughly enjoy hunting the big stonewalls and coops of the best hunting countryside in Virginia. This past year, Jean encouraged me to come to their inaugural hunt week at Belle Meade and hunt Georgia-style and I am so glad I did.

                  The first day we met for a stirrup cup at 2:30pm as the meet was to start at 3pm.  We thought this a little late, as it gets dark by 5:30pm. At home, in the north, hounds and horses are safely put to bed by dark. Here we learned the fun continues long into the night after the scent has improved in late afternoon. Not only did we come in after dark, but it was pitch black except for some starlight. You followed the rump of the horse in front and were lucky if it was a gray or white one! The men’s white shirts and white saddle pads were the other visible things to follow. We had been warned about having to jump, in the dark (rumors about white tape marking the tops of coops) but sanity prevailed and that we were spared. The Belle Meade Hunt usually comes in after dark and sometimes, if they have gone so far afield that it means hours to hack back, the trailers come to get them! This day did end with an hour hack back after an amazing 90 minute run on one coyote, which finally ran across Rt.78, dodging 18-wheelers. The staff did a great job stopping hounds and we got a well-needed chance to catch our breaths, horses and people alike.

Epp Wilson MFH and hounds

                   The afternoon had started slowly, just hacking through pine forests and up and down many ravines and across creeks. The Belle Meade Hunt usually starts from their kennels and they have the wonderful privilege of just heading in different directions into their 40,000 acres of Georgia pine forests and wilderness. Epp Wilson MFH gave us a running commentary about the landscape, issuing warnings to stay to the left or right of the timbered pine “alleys”. Apparently every fifth row is “cut” and as the stumps rot there are either leg-breaking holes or nasty stumps right down the middle.  He told us about the old colonial roads, now just paths, that we were galloping on, as we pushed through the fragrant woods. We trotted past the first white man’s cemetery in Georgia, terraced on a hillside, faint mounds still visible. There were old millworks with the ancient leather traces still visible in the dirt and the hand-dug waterworks now simply gouges in the earth.  It was lovely and the sense of many lifetimes having passed through these hillsides was strong.  After about an hour and a half we heard the hounds start speaking and they were gone like a shot. Whips yelled and there were words spoken in the radios and we were off. As I have mentioned what followed was the fastest 90 minutes on horseback I have ever ridden. I have hunted with the five or six aforementioned legendary hunts with their big fences and renowned huntsmen, but I will affirm here that Belle Meade is the fastest. My ex-racehorse was stretched out and hard pressed to keep up with the Masters. I was actually afraid we would lose sight of the Master and be lost out here. However, my big chestnut never missed a hoofbeat, whipping around corners and over all kinds of roots and logs, keeping the horse ahead barely in sight. I was so impressed with, and glad of, the surefootedness of my own horse!

                  After the hounds were collected and all had had a drink, either from streams or flasks, we headed home. The best part of this hour-long hack home was being met halfway by the “beer guy”.  I am not a beer drinker per se but it tasted wonderful and we had a good laugh at the unusual practice of hacking home with beer in hand in the dark!

Hunting in Aiken
 

                  Next day Belle Meade had been invited to hunt with Aiken Hounds in the famous Hitchcock Woods of Aiken, SC. This is a beautiful manicured forest of sandy trails and lots of Aiken fences (sort of like steeplechase fences) over and through which the drag is laid. They drag hunt with PennMaryDel hounds, (Marlborough, my hunt, also has PennMaryDels) so it was fun to see these familiar tri-color, long eared hounds. Their huntsman told me some of their hounds trace back to Marlborough Vroom, which as we are now on the “T” hounds at Marlborough this year, would make Vroom a bitch from about 23 years ago! It was a lovely day and we jumped about 30 of these famous fences, sometimes 4 abreast, all the time at a respectable gallop, over perfect footing. Drag hunting is very different from a live chase, but we enjoyed the beautiful Hitchcock Woods and understand why so many people from all kinds of horse disciplines spend the winter down here.

                  Wednesday, we met at 3PM at an historic home across the road from the kennels. I believe it was the original homestead of the Knox family, which is the predominant landowner in the Belle Meade territory.  And I understood that this historic house was also the first Belle Meade clubhouse. Many stories were told about parties and BBQ’s on the porch of this lovely old farmhouse.  In fact, I believe one such party, due somehow to a gas grill, burned the house down and ended the clubhouse history there! Now they have a lovely clubhouse at the kennels where we were lavishly entertained after every hunt.  I forgot to mention that the first day when we had been introduced to the first flight Fieldmaster, Jim Moncrief, he had quietly asked our hostess, Jean Derrick, to vouch for us. This actually meant he wanted to know if we knew what we were getting into riding first flight. Jean quickly attested to our ability and said we would be fine, mentioning the NA Field Hunter championships. I guess she took my word for my friend from Ireland. Anyway, this note brings me to Wednesday afternoon when Jim Moncrief, the Fieldmaster, quietly asked me to vouch for and take care of some new guests with whom he had seen me talking. I assumed this was because he had recently explained the reason for such a “reference”. I stared at him for a moment, certain he was pulling my leg, because he had just asked me to take care of Boyd Martin (3 day eventing /Olympic royalty) and his associate from Cheshire Hounds.  Sort of like asking me to watch Michael Phelps in the deep-end of the pool!  I quickly said they’ll be fine and I would certainly keep an eye on them. Boyd is good looking anyway so it was a treat. Made my day!

Boyd Martin and Dave Leinhauser of Cheshire Hounds  

                  The day was essentially a repeat of the first day. Madly galloping through woods and pine forests, up and down hills, along red clay paths. At one point we were galloping along a treed, boulder-strewn path about 3 feet wide with deep ditches on either side. I gave myself up to the hunting gods and hoped my horse would again manage to put his feet right. One could not steer, it was impossible at that speed to anticipate the rocks and stumps and holes- you just followed the one in front, praying! It reminded me of trying to jump/ steer through rolling sagebrush with Lynn Lloyd out west, also a fruitless effort. “Just leave your horse alone, he’ll figure it out”, was the advice then and it was true here too.  As crazy as this galloping sounds, there was not one misstep or injury or fall.  At one point Epp Wilson yelled back to Boyd Martin behind me, asking him if he had ever heard a Rebel Yell. This was moments after we had just heard a screeching yell that sounded like someone had just been scalped or eaten by a bear! It was the first whipper-in Barbara Lees communicating in the quickest way possible that a coyote was viewed. The hair was up on my neck and the race was on – again!  That day we ended in a creek bed, covered in globs of red clay, sweaty and tired with the biggest grins on everyone’s faces. It had been a glorious ride.  It was another hack back in the dark but I barely noticed this time. We were chatting and talking over the day and it seemed perfectly normal to be back at the kennels in the pitch black. The fire was going in the fire pit in front of the clubhouse and we all put horses to bed and went in to great food and wonderful friends.

                   I must mention here that there are four fields at Belle Meade. They really do cater to every rider. I know I stayed with first flight by choice  (and as long as my horses were able), but we saw second flight right behind us many times and all were there at the end. Third flight and hilltoppers, both non-jumping, had large groups and the same happy grins. So I would recommend this Hunt Week to riders of all abilities.

                  The next day rained and we all gave the horses a well-earned rest and went off to Aiken to shop and check out this lovely Southern town. There are lots of tack stores and upscale clothing boutiques. I found my fancy Kentucky Derby and Preakness hat on a side street and my friend bought some beautiful framed hunting prints.  Jean Derrick treated us to some wonderful steaks on the grill that night and we all shared the many stories and tall tales that all hunting enthusiasts seem to collect. We were becoming fast friends forever and were soon making plans for the Bull Run March Madness and their Hunt Ball in March!

In front of Foxboro

                  Friday was definitely colder with a frost on the ground. We were to hunt at 9am that morning because the next day was the Belle Meade Hunt Ball and Saturday’s hunt was also at 9am.  The frost was welcome as we hoped it would kill the fire ants that are widespread down here. Nasty little critters that will have your horse dancing around if bitten! We were to start from Master Epp Wilson’s own property that was about 2 miles away down the road. This is a beautiful boarding/ training facility with several large barns and Epp and Nancy Wilson’s lovely home. I am accustomed to stuffed foxes in various poses in many Northern homes, but the collection of snarling coyotes and bobcats was impressive. I believe there were also a few Daniel Boone style fur hats made from the pelts of several coyote. After a lovely stirrup cup in the front yard we trotted for a photographer’s opportunity and then had another day of galloping behind Belle Meade hounds. I believe several coyote were chased although I never viewed. At one point Epp Wilson MFH and his wife Nancy, both halted and said a change of horses was coming by van. They stay well mounted and prepared to be able to stay with hounds no matter how long they are out.  

                  That night, another Belle Meade Master of Foxhounds, Charlie Lewis, had invited us to his home for a cocktail party. Our gentlemen had arrived during the afternoon, rented a car and driven down from Columbia, SC, so we were delighted to have our guys with us as we joined our Bull Run Hunt friends at the home of a most delightful Southern gentleman. Charlie was riding a 4 -wheeled steed this week, but was positioned every day as to have the most views of anyone. In fact, after a while, we suspected he was dropping the coyote out of his truck and challenging us to find him! His home was beautiful and he has one of the most impressive personal armories I have ever seen. My husband who is also a gun enthusiast was duly impressed, but asked him if there was anything missing. Charlie mentioned he wanted to get his hands on a “modern bayonet”, whatever that is?  Mike came home, called a buddy and in short order mailed what I call a very Big knife down to a Charlie as a thank you for his hospitality. I hope it was what he wanted!

                  Saturday dawned as the coldest day so far and I actually put on the long underwear! We again braved the mounds of fire ants and had a stirrup cup outside Jean Derrick’s home, beside the kennels. My husband, Mike volunteered his service, passing the port and spiced cider. He says I have trained him well and he is always quick to offer any kindness to the mounted horde.  Charlie Lewis MFH had requested that Mike and Ernesto, Joanie’s companion, ride with him that day and I believe they had the best time.  I noticed a Tally-Ho “wagon” was provided most days for the unmounted followers who seem to have a wonderful time. They had an incredible view in the first hour. We had been there 5 days and had not seen the wily coyote yet! Both were happy and taking photographs every time we galloped past. The day warmed up and we had another incredible day of hunting with Belle Meade. The first coyote was picked up almost immediately and ran hard for 45 minutes before hounds had to be stopped. There were lots of coops this day and the footing was decent after a frost. The only mishap all day was our intrepid Fieldmaster, Jim Moncrief, who came a cropper, when a hole grabbed his horse! A tree then jumped out and smacked him before letting the man roll off to his resting place on a hillside. After appointing someone to stay with Jim, and ascertaining that he was going to live, the field continued on.  The huntsman had left us at this point, but we eventually found the hard riding youngsters and their parents in the third field and soon were reunited with the hounds and Huntsman.  After several hours we called it a day and soon came in to tidy up for the upcoming Hunt Ball festivities that night. Happily, Fieldmaster Jim was waving to us as we arrived at the kennels. Belle Meade has a lovely tradition of saluting the staff and Masters at the end of a hunt by lining up in two rows by the kennels and thanking the aforementioned as they ride in together after putting up hounds. It was a lovely way to thank them for the day’s sport.

The author and husband enjoying the Hunt Ball

                   We had wisely decided that a limo for the evening was a very good call and had, in fact, found a local man that had a 22 -seater for lease. We thought it would either be a luxurious ride or an interesting jalopy, either way; it was going to make a great story.  We did arrive at the Augusta Golf and Country Club in grand style and proceeded to dance the night away Southern-style.  The silent auction was full of interesting items, some antique, some new, all horse related. I bid and won on caps for hunting with Bull Run.  Ernesto came away with a new putter and a golf outing and then made plans to come back and go golfing with Charlie Lewis. This is the kind of fun that makes great friendships and we had had a great week cementing such relationships.

                  I have just received my invitation to Bull Run’s Hunt Ball and am trying to figure out how to fit it all in.  I miss my friends from Belle Meade who showed us how to chase coyotes and have a grand time doing it.  I think their inaugural Hunt Week was a great success and I plan to go back next year and encourage more to join me.  Warm weather, warm friendships and lots of land to hunt endlessly are a not-to-be-missed chance.  I am so very grateful to Jean Derrick for my initial invitation and am now indebted to the whole Belle Meade family for a most excellent adventure. Happy hunting until next year!