The tough part of horse ownwership.....

I have had to put 4 horses down this year. I have a lot of horses but each one diminishes me. This is the very tough part of horse ownership. Last night was a retired broodmare, a beloved mare I have had for a long time. She colicked, probably from the extreme warm weather causing a spike in grass growing out of season and subsequent gas colic in her. She was a cribber and a wind-sucker which did not help but she had made it for twenty years and was a wonderful mother. On Friday, her 5 year son just ran a 101 Beyer at Laurel ( that is really good). But she was in agony and the kindness was to let her go on the a greener pasture. It still sucks. The others have been similar stories, a foal runs into a gatepost and breaks his hip, another older mare, already with a crippling injury to one front leg, founders on the "good" foot and is in a bad, bad way with no good foot. The first was my wonderful eldest member of the band, a beloved foxhunter who made it to 31. When he no longer wanted to come up to the feed or visit his "mares", I knew it was time for a final rest. I have wonderful friends who are there for me to help bury them, but it still hurts. Each time I plant new grass on their burial spot I say goodbye and each time I pass the new, bright, green grass I say a quiet hello, "I miss you". I miss them all.

Benji

Benji is about 6 weeks old and the most wonderful baby. A happy, calm little boy - he is starting to smile and "talk" and the best thing in the world is snuggling his little head in your shoulder. Baby smell is better than warm cookies I think! When I hold him, I wonder where did all the time go, from when my own were this small. Much has changed in the world of baby care, but feeling that surrender to just gazing at a sleeping baby is still the same. A year ago he was still a hope and a dream. And now he is a miracle of promises. You can tell I love being his Grandma!

First Grandchild!!

Benjin Eian Smith came into this world on October 23rd, 2015 about 2 PM. Mom, Stephanie Smith, and my son Sam are delighted and relieved and ecstatic. Benji is wonderful and beautiful and the most awesome little boy ever. Yes, I am a grandmother and very delighted!!

its all about family

We had dinner last night with Sam and Will at Jalapeno's in Annapolis. Will had successfully finished a big deal with his company on Friday and was visiting home while Annie is in Australia. He was happy and proud of his work, thinking about grad school. Sam had just finished his baby education class on newborn care at the hospital. Stephanie and Sam's baby is due in late October!! We are all so excited and I wanted to hear all about his "education". What was hysterical was his description of the chocolate pudding laden diapers, which were the teaching tools! I love it. He asked us to sign up for a "grandparent update" class, which I did happily. Anything to help with baby! My first grandchild is a very big deal and deserving of a little updating the old techniques. We have done our whooping cough shots and flu shots and I have the emergency diapers ready!

What truly marked last night as a special moment for me was the quiet realization that "my boys" were now grown men, very separate from me. As I was listening to their conversation and the excited recounting of their day I just "saw" them not as my children, but as uniquely themselves. I was no longer the person to whom they turned for love and acknowledgement,  I was no longer the nucleus of a unit. They had broken away and started their own units. They were the nucleii of their families now. It was a wonderful  moment of letting go and being in awe of the people they had become. Caring, loving, starting amazing adventures with their families. I was still a part, but it had shifted somewhere and I truly saw the "going forward".

Yesterday had been a tough day for me actually. One of my young horses, a weanling, had run across the field with his buddies, bucking and playing, racing each other. Going through a fence gap, this colt had struck the gatepost and broken his leg. I heard the impact and knew right away. So sad. This was a young animal I had helped into the world and fed and groomed and gentled and now I had to help him leave this world. It is part of caring for animals and luckily we were able to gently and swiftly ease his shock and pain. I have wonderful farming friends who help me bury my animals when tragedy happens. But it was a very sad day.  Having my children nearby, giving me a hug, or a phone call, saying they were sorry for me, that they understood and knew it was so hard. That they loved me and wished it hadn't happen meant a lot and eases the ache. It is all about family. And I love that we are becoming families.

Feels good to be back in the saddle....cubhunting has started

This is someone else's hunt and photo but it was about this hot this morning for our first cub hunt of the season. I viewed a nice red in the second bean field chasing mice and Jason viewed another slipping into the beans a bit later, but it was so dry that the runs were short. Another red popped out right in front of the field and ran for the river in front of Billingsley. Here the hound music was sweet and they did their best to push him back towards us. However the scenting seemed to disappear in the woods and as soon as they left the dew on the beans the fox slipped away. By 8:30 it was hot, humid and dry and the hounds tongues were lolling. It was a perfect first cub hunt of the season. We roaded home, rinsed off sweaty horses and reached for the water bottles.  

Another birthday dawn means .....

A birthday dawn means I have added another year of memories and friends and adventures. It means my cup is a little fuller, probably overflowing at this point, like my water troughs when I forget to turn the water off. I hope my overflow of love and laughter and experiences trickle down across all the plains of my life and help something else grow. I will become a grandmother this year and that is the biggest gift ever. My children thrive- they may struggle but who doesn't- but they are still growing. I love my husband who puts up with me when I am grouchy and looking to take a frustrating day out on somebody other than a horse. Yes, some days are still frustrating. Fences break, yearlings kick you, the computer is smarter than me but I am HAPPY. Love that song. So, yes Happy Birthday, here's to many more adventures. The tough old bird is still riding hard!!

A late July sunrise

The summer has actually been lovely so far- not too hot. A lot of rain has left the stream flowing and the pastures green. Lots of flies but the horses manage and have been enjoying their summer months off. One foal weaned and four to go.

Sam and Stephanie's pregnancy

Stephanie is now about seven months along.

She is feeling well and looking beautiful. They are expecting a little boy on October 23rd and we are all very excited. I keep seeing really cute little outfits and baby blankets and I need to stop buying them. Laura lent me a bassinet so I hope the baby comes to visit a lot!   Stephanie slipped on the front porch last week and broke a bone in her foot so is hobbling around in a boot for the next six weeks. October will be here soon!!

Will and Annie's engagement party

On July 18th I hosted an engagement party for Will and Annie at the Hunt Club. We decorated the pavilion and I set out photographs of their trips and holidays around the world. Friends and family welcomed Annie's parents, Doug and Susan Bernacchi, and one of her brother's, Jack,  from Elkhart, Indiana. The wedding is scheduled for September of 2017 in Indiana at a lovely country club near their home.  Isabel took some very beautiful pictures of the happy couple and I was so proud of them. They have managed a long distance relationship and it seems to have strengthened their love.

June holiday to Scotland

Mike and I joined my sister Patti, her husband Dan,  and my other sister Margaret for a holiday in Scotland. We arrived in Edinburgh on June 7th and started driving counterclockwise around the Highlands. We stayed in some lovely bed and breakfasts ( always great breakfasts), a castle and a luxury Scottish 5-star resort. We golfed at St. Andrews and put our toes in the Baltic Sea, on the east coast, then went to Isle of Skye where we gazed at the Atlantic. In between were walks through many castles and the battlefields of Culloden. We saw where they filmed Harry Potter and watched an old train steam away from the Hogwarts school site. The driving was interesting, on the wrong side of the road. We returned the rental car with a few dents, missing a mirror and lots of scratches. But it was a great time. The best part was spending time with my sisters, always special.

my romantic son

Annie Bernacchi has accepted Will's marriage proposal and we are thrilled. Who knew William had such a romantic side! In Virginia's beautiful wine country, on a picture perfect day, he asked his best friend and the woman he loves to spend her life with him. Beautiful Annie, we are so happy to welcome you into our family and I wish the two of you a lifetime of love and happiness.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all my women friends. Whether your children are two-legged or four-legged, they are all a blessing. They are our best teachers and friends; our worst critics and biggest supporters. They are our mirrors.
All my foals are here safe and sound. Thank you Mother Nature. I hold my breath through every delivery and am grateful for my husband's quiet presence and sometimes that extra muscle.
My two-legged kids are all grown up now and spread out. Sam and Will are having breakfast with me today and Sarah is in LA, being here in spirit, as she helps other moms and their families enjoy a Mother's Day Brunch. Love you sweetie. Sam is starting the journey to parenthood and will have his own "mother of Baby" to spoil in the future. Thank you all for being in my life, for choosing me to be your Mom. It has been the best adventure of my life.

Cross- country with Sarah in the snow of Feb 2015

On Feb 25th Sarah and I headed out cross-country to drive her back to Los Angeles. There was a snow storm forecast for the southern route so we headed directly west, on Route 70 thru Pennsylvania to Indianapolis. Her "Blueberry" Prius was loaded to the top with just enough room for my overnight bag. We planned to drive about 12 hours a day, switching every 3 or 4 hours. Pennsylvania and Ohio were pretty straightforward and we rolled into Indianapolis about 9 pm. Found a Hilton close to the airport on the west side and crashed. It seemed like it was going to be OK. We had the Dresden Files books on tape and Harry and his supernatural cohorts were entertaining enough for the driving. The fun began the next morning as we headed southwest, still on 70 towards St. Louis. Snow was again forecast but we where hoping the main highway would be plowed and driveable. About 1 hr. out of Terre Haute, the Prius hit some very icy road and we where skating on the Interstate. I was driving and quickly realized it was "black ice" and as soon as I saw a rest area I got off. Cars coming in behind us said two tractor trailers had gone into the ditch and everyone was sliding. So glad we got off when we did. We waited about 30 minutes, saw a plow/salt truck go by and decided to follow it. Once salted the road was fine and we made it to St. Louis. Crossing the Mississippi River, we took a picture of the Arch in St. Louis and kept on south. By now the weather report was ominous, calling for 5 inches from Amarillo, thru Texas and Oklahoma- exactly where we had planned to go.  Change of plans. About noon we decided to head straight west towards Witchita, KS, even though it was a smaller road, Route 54.
We were trying to stay on the northern side of the storm and only have to deal with an inch or two. Or that was the plan! We made it to Witchita just fine, realizing that there are a lot of cows in the West. In fact, it is so vast, I still do not understand why we could not have settled with the Native Americans and let them have at least half peaceably. It is a huge country. It was clear and the sunset was beautiful. Witchita is a big aviation hub, probably because the sky is vast as well!  We were tired and I wanted a steak dinner and a drink. We found a hotel on the west side again, by the airport and a Texas Roadhouse. I know they have good steaks so we got into the hotel and ran across the parking lot to dinner and a margarita! It was freezing, the temperature steadily dropping into the single digits. Snow was definitely coming. The weather forecast was dubious but some truckers said Route 54 to the west was not too bad and we could see that many truckers had the same thought as us, to try to skirt the storm. After a quick breakfast Friday morning we headed west past the airport on Rt. 54/400 towards Liberal on the Kansas/Oklahoma border. It was getting worse and worse with blowing snow. The only good thing about the vast, flat prairie of the West is that the snow blows away. It was streaming across from south to north with about 1 mile visibility. We were following the truckers going west and hoping to stay on the edge of Storm Sparta. Sam had called us and was tracking our route as we wondered about going even farther north. But we decided to stay on 54 and wing it. I was doing most of the driving and as we left Oklahoma and went into the northwestern part of Texas it got worse! The roads had not been salted at all, just plowed and the surfaces were very tricky. Scraped icy snow that was slippery and rough, we were trying to stay with the truckers, more for moral support than anything. After Dalhart, TX, there was a stretch of road on the way to Tucumcari, New Mexico that was the worst bit of driving in snow that I have ever done. As northbound truckers flew past on the slippery road I had to hold the wheel and pray I did not hit an icy bit and slide to the left. And I did pray, it was really difficult and I did not want to worry Sarah but it was scary how icy it was. Her Prius did remarkably well, probably slid less than my Chevy truck with 4 wheel drive, would have in the same conditions. Her car was light enough to correct quickly when the slipstream pull from the truckers would make the car veer left. I was a wreck after 100 miles of this deserted stretch of unplowed road. Never again!
About 4 pm we made it to New Mexico and miraculousy they had salted the same road and it was like night and day difference. We stopped at a diner on historic Route 66, had a grilled cheese sandwich and quickly left, heading west. Sarah took the wheel here, as we hoped it would be clearer on Interstate 40. It was beautiful in a wide open, empty kinda way. Just cows and more cows.
It was fine until about 20 miles outside Albuquerque. A snowstorm descended on us with a vengeance, as we descended into the canyons on Rte 40 as you approach Albuquerque. It was a nightmare and Sarah did great, even though I knew panic was nearby. She held her own as the driving lanes disappeared in the snowfall and inches quickly accumulated on the road. Cars were starting to slide and everyone was creeping along with their hazards on. As soon as I saw an exit and a nearby Super 8 motel, I said ,"Let's get off.". It was about 5 miles east of the city but it was terrible going. We made it to the cheap motel and just exhaled, thanking all the gods. There was a Olive Garden across the road and we went for another drink! Too much lasagna later we went to bed and I wondered how we were going to get out of Albuquerque in the morning.
I was supposed to fly from Phoenix on Saturday and Sarah was going to Tucson to see her aunt, before heading west to Los Angeles on her own for the last leg of the trip. It was not going to happen. At 5 in the morning there was 6 inches of snow on a closed Rt 40. Looking at the map, we recalculated and thank God for Southwest Air, I changed my flight to leave from Tucson to Baltimore and then we were going to go straight south to the Mexican border. I wanted to get out of the snow!. I saw a plow go by and said , "Let's get out of here". We followed that plow on Rt 25 south, doing about 30 miles an hour in 5 inches of snow. Her little Prius was being a champ, there were hardly any other cars on the road and in about 1 hr  we were out of the snow. Thank you, Lord! There had been about 300 car accidents on Interstate 40 last night in Albuquerque, we had gotten off just in time.
Once we hit clear road I was driving about 90 miles an hour to try to make my flight in Tucson, before the next storm was coming to Maryland. I could just get through Denver, there was a window on the radar map and make it home before the ice hit the East. I drove like a maniac through New Mexico into Arizona and luckily it was clear road and no cops! There was wind as we went west across the bottom of Arizona on Rt 10 and blowing sagebrush threatened to hit the car. It exploded into twigs whenever it hit a car and the wind was strong, but anything was better than snow and ice. I made it to the airport in time for my flight. 
I was sad to leave Sarah, because she was going to be in LA for  awhile and I would miss seeing her. She had a visit with her aunt Ann-Marie and she made it to LA the next day. What a trip, it had been fun, long, in places terrifying and still, a great time for Sarah and I.  I would not have missed it for the world. Love you, daughter !

My latest Irish foxhunting trip.......

-->

        My Latest Foxhunting Adventure:  A Cowboy in County Clare

                                                                                          By Barbara Smith

I had the great fortune recently to go hunting in County Clare, Ireland, with a group of fellow foxhunters from the western United States. Lynn Lloyd and Angela Murray, joint masters of Red Rock Hounds in Reno, Nevada were celebrating Lynn’s birthday with a trip to Ireland that their friends, Renee and Kail Mantle, from Big Sky Hounds in Three Forks, Montana, had been planning since last June.  As well as members of these two hunts, they had rounded up foxhunters from Mission Valley Hunt Club, in Kansas, Bonnie Becker from Massbach Hounds in Illinois, some friends from Las Vegas and myself from Marlborough and Bull Run Hunt in Virginia. There were 24 of us ready to hunt over the stonewalls, hedges and banks of Western Ireland with three different hunts and other than Lynn and myself, it was the first time for the rest of them.

I had met Renee and Kail Mantle last year at Red Rock for the MFHA Pacific District meet. Kail had given us a bucking horse lesson one day before hunting and this Montana cowboy, who hunts in chaps and cowboy hat, had sat calmly to his horse bucking crazily above the sagebrush and had seriously impressed me. When they invited me to come to Ireland, I jumped at the chance.  These were fun people; more than a little crazy and I wondered if anyone had warned the Irish! I also wondered if they knew what they were getting into, as I had hunted the big Irish walls and hedges in 2000. I came home with newfound respect for any one who hunts regularly in Ireland. It is challenging country and their version of foxhunting is an excuse to run and jump really big fences.  

Renee Mantle had done an excellent job planning this trip with great care to the smallest detail.  We stayed in a beautiful private estate, named Ceaparana, (www.ceaparana.com) in Puckuan, County Tipperary. I highly recommend this lovely home, which had at least 8 bedrooms and baths and was centrally located for the three different hunts, County Roscommon Hunt, the East Clare Harriers and the North Tipperary Hunt. Renee had contacted Oliver Walsh of Flowerhill Equestrian Centre in Ballinasloe, Co. Galway (www.flowerhill.net) to set up the horse livery for all 24 of us, for all 5 days of riding.  He promised us great horses and managed to deliver on that promise. Oliver is also the huntsman for the County Roscommon Hunt.  A tall, white-haired, charismatic Irish gentleman with an ease about himself that sets everyone else at ease also. To manage to arrive at a hunt with 20 livery horses and new riders 4 days in a row and hunt hounds as well, was a remarkable achievement. He has excellent help and his assistant, Keely, was a charming young woman who took great care of all of us. The horses were wonderful and I thought between them and Renee’ suggestions, they paired us all up with suitable mounts.

After one day to relax, recover and go sightseeing, on Friday morning we went to the Flowerhill Equestrian Centre, which also offers eventing and cross country training, to meet our horses and go for a trail ride. This was to give a few of the members of the group a chance to jump in a more controlled environment. He had set up small gymnastic jumping courses and everyone had a great time following his lead through some water obstacles, some streams and over the jumps. He grinned, offered simple advice like, “not too fast”, and then deemed everyone ready.  He had set up an extra hunt for us with his hunt, County Roscommon, on Saturday, and then we would go with them again on their regular Sunday hunt.

But before hunting we were going Friday night to the County Roscommon Hunt Ball. Held at the Abbey Hotel in Roscommon, we planned to spend the night and hunt the next day from here. We had brought our evening dresses and tuxes and we were treated to a grand evening of dinner and dancing. It was very similar to our own hunt balls, though I wondered what some of our Irish hosts thought of this happy group of Americans that had descended on them. Oliver said we were the largest group he had ever had and we took over two long tables at the Ball. We started dancing early and, I heard, stayed to the very end! The evening wrapped up about 3 am with a rendition of the Irish National Anthem to which several Americans cheerily sang along!  

We met the next morning at the local pub where we tried the hot port or hot whiskey as we waited for Oliver and the horses to arrive. In my experience all hunts in Ireland start at the pub and end in the pub! This was no exception and after two or three hot ports, the lorries arrived and we were off. Trotting through the town of Roscommon and down the highway, we turned off after several miles and watched as Oliver sent the hounds into the covert.  Here the coverts are hedges and walls that separate the beautiful green fields and farms.  We headed over the first of many rock walls and I glanced back, hoping the group was all together.  There were a couple of loose horses and Oliver’s assistants were terrific at catching horses, reuniting them with riders and offering encouragement. Our group of Western riders were game for it all and quickly learned to just follow the horse in front and “kick on”.  Some were able to find a more conservative route in the days that followed but most of us were jumping the walls and hedges in fine Irish form.

Kail Mantle from Montana was a natural and I guess a “bronc” rider who learns to throw his arm to counter balance a buck can do the same over 4 foot walls. Riding long, in his jeans and cowboy boots, with his foot all the way ‘”home” in the stirrup, Kail was right behind me over the biggest fences and by the third day was quietly heard to say, “This is kinda fun”! He was always looking out for the more timid rider and was the first to take charge of anybody who was over faced by a jump. He encouraged and took care of the whole group. I think he was also impressed by some of the wild Irish and their jumping abilities. Another natural who was a complete newcomer to the art of Irish hunting was Kurt Griffiths, the husband of Marie Griffiths, the joint master from Big Sky. Long and lanky, he sat relaxed on his big Irish Sport horse, “Celtic Man, a 17.2 hand chestnut with a big, roman nosed handsome head. They suited each other to a tee and Kurt just followed Celtic Man’s lead over everything.

The Irish like to lark a bit and would look for the biggest hedges and walls to school their steeplechasers over, whenever there was a lull in the hunting. I followed over several before realizing it was optional and decided that caution was sometimes a better idea. Lynn Lloyd and I agreed that with a certain age comes the desire to last for another day and to chose the gentler approach! Neither of us came a cropper much to our quiet delight.

That first day our huntsman Oliver Walsh, took a path very close to the nearby lake, to perhaps avoid a few big walls. Well, it turned into a scene from “Misty of Chincoteague”, as the farmer’s herd of Irish ponies happily jumped out of their pasture and followed the hunt. They proceeded to swim across the lake to an island and we all watched entranced.  The only drawback was our horses were standing about chest deep in cold lake water as the field master looked to find a way out from this path along the edge.  We then noticed a saddled horse swimming loose and realized the joint field master had come off in the water. Later we were to hear that this game woman had been asked by Oliver, “Since she was already in the water, could she take a few stones off the wall so we can get out!”  I am sure the words spoken back at Oliver were as blue as she was from the cold as she sloshed out of the lake. Kail had seen the danger and joined by our field master Anthony, who had gone back to rescue his son on a small pony, found a way out through a gate, over two big walls and caught up in a few moments. The hounds had teetered and tottered along the rock wall trying to avoid going swimming themselves.  The day ended with hot toddies and sandwiches offered by the landowner as we gathered in his front yard. Everyone was grinning and laughing about our adventure and greeting some old friends.

Sunday morning we headed north again to meet Oliver and his horses for another day with the County Roscommon hunt. This was a larger group of foxhunters and as I listened to the talk in the pub, I realized that Oliver Walsh was a very respected huntsman and people came from far away to hunt with him. He had apparently resurrected the County Roscommon Hunt after several years of no hunting and I met foxhunters from as far as Wicklow on the East coast who drove three hours every Sunday to hunt. I was introduced to several members of the Galway Blazers who regularly hunted here also. I ran into Johnny Geoghegan, a renowned Galway horseman, who had leased us our horses last time I was in Ireland in 2000. He happily followed Oliver and was one of the crazy Irish looking for the biggest hedge or wall to jump.

There were lots of these to jump and it was rockier than the previous day. I turned to snap a picture after one jump and was surprised to see a friend’s riderless horse coming on. Sara Tharp of Montana remembered landing over the wall, but then the next memory she laughingly recalled was of a large Irish gentleman asking if she could get up. Clutching a dislocated shoulder she said, “ No, she didn’t think so.” He replied, “Well, you can’t stay here, [they’ll jump on you], so you better get up!” And he unceremoniously hauled her up. Our only real riding casualty, Sara followed the next hunts with the professional photographers, Val and Stephanie Westover. (They have produced a beautiful museum quality album of our hunting trip available at www.valwestoverphotography.com).  Unfortunately, Oliver also had a fall that day and shortly thereafter we came in, calling it a day.

Monday was another day to tour some of the Irish countryside. My group visited Clonmacnoise, a 8^th Century monastery that had been the home of St. Ciaran, a beloved Irish Saint. After walking among the ancient tombstones, we spent the afternoon drinking Irish coffees with a Mr. Oliver Darcy in his family’s grocery store and pub in the tiny nearby village.  On the drive home we found the DuBarry factory where several of us found great boots and coats at discount prices.

Tuesday we drove west around Lough (Lake) Derg to hunt with the East Clare Harriers. After one day of rest, most of us were reunited with our same horses and they were fit and ready to go. Trusting our mounts at this point, some of us were game to try to bigger walls and hedges. One trappy hedge had a big drop on the far side and I was happy to land in one piece, on my horse! Looking back I laughed to realize I was the only American to have tried this one. There had also been some banks and ditches at this point and only the daring Irish had flown over some of them, once or twice unsuccessfully, which they think is very funny. It was beautiful countryside, at one point we were on top of a mountain in a peat bog! Seemed strange to us to have soft, muddy going so high above the lake. The were fields of heather and then suddenly we were walking through a forested glen that was magical. Quiet and emerald green, it was misty and mossy and I expected to see a leprechaun at any moment.

Our huntsman, Shane, who with his two brothers Pat and David ran the East Clare Harriers, (the former was the field master and the latter was the President of the Hunt) Unt told us their hounds were Modern English. Most were tri-color and had excellent conformation, very upright with compact feet and toes.  There were also some Welsh hounds, tall with longer wiry coats. Apparently the addition of this Welsh bloodline was the reason for the “Modern English” name.

These hounds ran well all day and never stopped hunting. We had been having somewhat of a blank day until, on the way home, a fox jumped up right in front of the pack and they promptly accounted for him. It had been fun to watch some of the Irish children on their ponies. One pony had jumped a wall and just sat down, on the wall, until the small lad had berated him with a loud smack with his whip, which prompted the pony to jump down. These children seemed fearless and very smart. On one occasion I heard a small boy emphatically tell his Mum he was not going to take a trappy jump. He turned and galloped off and she shrugged, saying he knew his way about better than she did. A clue to avoid a bigger jump, follow the smallest child! We finished the day in the same pub where we started with hot port or whiskey and sandwiches. The hospitality had been wonderful at every place we had been, with the Irish locals delighted to share their stories and their Guinness’ with us at every opportunity.

The next day we hunted with North Tipperary Hunt and their pack of “Old English”. These hounds adored their huntsman. After every run, when their huntsman collected the pack, they patiently sat and never took their eyes off him.

We had met as usual in the local pub and moved off into a nearby landowner’s field. The first trappy ditch stopped a few, but soon all managed to join the main body of riders as we moved across the beautiful fields of the next estate.  A Thoroughbred breeding farm, the owners had pulled all the broodmares in for our hunt and we were treated to a lovely day of walls and ditches. The visiting Americans opted out of most of the ditches, which looked very tricky. We watched as the Irish laughed at each other’s occasional dunkings in the deep water-filled ditches. Jodee Renee of Red Rock Hounds had followed the huntsman at one point and learned the one sure way to get over a difficult ditch. Let the horse go first and follow on foot!! One young Irish girl was completely drenched and looking a little worse the wear after her horse had gone in the ditch too.

We were starting to trust our wonderful Irish horses and the prelude to this ditch experience had been jumping a five-bar gate. I had always wanted to say I had jumped one of these large gates, so after the huntsman cleared it, I just “kicked on”. One of the other girls followed me and we galloped after the huntsman into some very thick brush. In moments he returned, saying the hounds were heading back. I turned with him, whispering to my cohort to wait until someone kindly moved the same 5-bar gate to lean away from us. The huntsman was too keen to wait and took the gate at a flying gallop. His horse promptly somersaulted as it hit the gate, which was still leaning in our direction. He flipped out of the saddle and landed face first in the soft Irish turf. Both jumped up and he had remounted after a quick once–over and was quickly off after hounds. Luckily for us, the gate was now leaning in the right direction to safely jump back! It had been a long day and the hounds had split. The hunt staff were going in two different directions and we could hear both groups still speaking. We decided to join the riders going in and the thought of hot port and sandwiches was most welcome.  

Thursday was a day off and many of us went to the Cliffs of Moher to see the spectacular west coast of County Clare. Some went east to visit the Irish National Stud and all of us looked for gifts to take home. I simply walked into the Blarney Woolen Store opposite Bunratty Castle and ordered seven beautiful Irish cable knit sweaters and thankfully shipping home was free!

Thursday evening we visited our favorite pub “Larkins” in Garrykennedy, County Tipperary, to celebrate Lynn Lloyd’s birthday. Shar, one of our ladies who lives in Las Vegas and knows the inside of a bar (remember “Cocktail”) decided to teach the Irish lads a thing or two about making Vegas shooters. Many Guinness’ and Irish cocktails later we were thanking the owners for their generosity and wonderful hospitality. They encouraged us to come back and bring lots of friends. Between the excellent food like fish and chips and grilled salmon and seafood chowders to mention a few dishes, we promised to give high praise at home and encourage our fellow foxhunters to come to Ireland.

Oliver Walsh of Flowerhill Equestrian Center supplied us with wonderful horses for the week. They were excellent jumpers and easy to rate for the less experienced. All of the hunts were welcoming and worked very hard to give their American guests an excellent taste of Irish foxhunting.  I can not wait to go again. Thank you Renee for an excellent adventure.

All other photos by Barbara Smith

Hunting in Ireland Day 2

This was the end of our second hunt with County Roscommon. The hounds had accounted for their fox and we were headed home. Our fieldmaster, Oliver had had a fall and called for someone else to blow for hounds. We think maybe broken ribs! Anyway, this guy, on the chestnut, finished the hunt and brought the hounds home. A local hunter told me that Roscommon has become very popular and hunters from all over come every Sunday to hunt with them. I met not only a fellow from Wicklow, named Mick!, who drove 3 hours each way, but also Johnny Geogaghan, from The Blazers who rented the "American Bitch Pack" horses 15 years ago! I reminded him of our trip in 2000 and that we had bought two horses ( Christy's Beckham and Rodney). He remembered us and asked how they were. Whiskey, the wonderful mare that Isabel and I rode is retired but still alive. We are going to go with him on Thursday with the Blazers. Today was walls and fairly stony ground. No "swimming" thankfully. We had skirted a slough or lake ?? the first day and literally my horse's feet left the ground and I was swimming momentarily. Ponies in a field that we passed escaped, and came with the hunt, proceeding to swim across the lake, looking like Chincoteaque ponies. It was an incredible picture with swans, riders up to the boot tops and the hounds tetering on rocks to try and stay out of the water.

heading to Ireland

2014 was an adventure filled year for me and I am hoping to continue this wonderful journey on into 2015. An opportunity to go foxhunting in Ireland fell into my "lap" and "twist my arm", I could not refuse. Looking back for old pictures I realized it was 15 years ago! that the American Bitch Pack ( a lovely group of women from Marlborough Hunt Club- so dubbed because we were so impressive!) conquered Galway, Ireland. We had a great time and so many wonderful memories were made... never forget some of the walls, the drops, Christy over the big hedge, the green of the fields....
The Irish horses were brutes but fantastic!


Now, I have the privilege to go hunting with friends from Nevada ( Red Rock) and Montana (Big Sky). I have gotten to know this great group of people when hunting out west the last 2 years and when they said I could join them I was thrilled. So, leaving Tuesday for some action filled days in the Emerald Isle. Mike is keeping the home front and being very supportive. Thank you, dear. I am so looking forward to seeing my cowboy friends, hats, boots, fringed chaps hunt across Ireland. Somebody ought to warn the Irish!! We are hunting twice  with Co. Roscommon and going to their Hunt Ball, then the East Clare Harriers and North Tipperary Hunt.
I have been working hard on my book about riding in the Mongol Derby and soon the new foals will be arriving. This came at the one moment I could actually leave for a bit and as things never go perfectly in any case, when adventures seem within reach, I am of the firm belief that at my age, I better go now!

Renee, note the small gap when you wait for the others to knock 'em down.