[drivingpairs] Foxhunting ala wagonette!



Hello friends,
Thanksgiving Day was Opening Meet for the Tennessee Valley Hunt. It is always 
a big "dog and pony" show with a huge white tent on the Holston 
River--bagpipes, bonfire, art displays, stirrup cup and all sorts of other fun 
horse and 
houndy hoopla.
Thursday was gorgeous. You could not have asked for a more beautiful November 
day--cloudless sky, no wind, sweater weather. Everyone was in great spirits 
and there was a feeling of celebration in the air.

Since the founding of this hunt, I have never missed an Opening Meet. Always 
I have been mounted on my best horse--all braided up and polished. Last season 
I decided to step down as joint master and let someone else enjoy the job for 
a while--so this seemed  a good year to "do something different" for Opening 
Meet.

Instead of braiding manes the night before, John and I, with the help of our 
main groom/driver, Ashley, and our newest groom/driver, Lisa, polished our two 
oldest, best, and wisest geldings, Mo and Duke, their harness and the eight 
passenger wagonette.

We had just gotten a new (to us) gooseneck trailer set up the way we want for 
hauling, so this was to be the maiden voyage.

Horses and wagonette loaded easily Thanksgiving morning (the horses pull the 
carriage on, then we unhitch and turn them around and back them into their 
stalls for travel and tie down the wagonette.) We had practiced this only once 
the day before. This trailer is intimidatingly HUGE enough for four draft 
horses 
plus the wagonette and we live on winding mountain roads--so we were a bit 
nervous, hauling it loaded for the first time. Anyway, I digress...

We got the old guys to the meet without incident and put them to the 
carriage. There were dozens of horses and riders, four other horse drawn 
vehicles, and 
of course, the hounds.

Here's the really cool part. These two old geldings have seen it all. They've 
worked hundreds of weddings, hayrides, parades--everything, but they've never 
done a foxhunt. They stood quietly while we loaded our guests and were 
patient during the blessing of the hounds, etc. Then the horn sounded, and 
hounds 
were cast onto a drag line for the spectators to watch (normally ours is a live 
hunt, but we put on a show on Thanksgiving). Suddenly hounds opened up and 
their great Pennmarydel voices filled the river valley. They were off!

The field of horses galloped ahead of us, some twisting and bucking, everyone 
in high spirits. I studied Mo and Duke. Their ears were up--- "wow!" Their 
necks arched and they rounded their backs and became dressage Belgians! I 
watched them watch the hounds and before long I knew that they "got it"--that 
ethereal link between human and horse and hound--the thrill of the chase--they 
were 
having FUN! Weeeeee......our wagonette full of horse/hound people saw the 
connection and everyone was laughing and enjoying the chase.

All morning we followed as close to the action as possible and those old guys 
hardly ever took their eyes off the hounds. It was fascinating to me that it 
was the pack of hounds that interested this pair, rather than the field of 
galloping horses. Mid-morning, hounds were cast in a corn field and Mo and Duke 
were right on top of things, noting every peep the hounds made. Our guests 
loved it and everyone got a kick out of those horses getting into the hunt.

The chase ended on top of "champagne hill", where bubbly was served to all. 
We ambled back to the meet for turkey and dressing and all the 
trimmings--served under the tent, pilgrim style--while Mo and Duke munched hay 
back at the 
trailer. Ahhhhhhh...a perfect day in the country.

Here's to the connection of spirit between people, horses and hounds, to our 
love of the earth and to the excitement we feel, every now and then--just 
being alive with these fine creatures and our good friends! I hope you all 
enjoy 
this poem I wrote a few years ago--I thought before that it summed it all up, 
but feel now that I should add a line in it about wagonettes! 

May Hounds Run Ever

To endless years of hounds' sweet cry 
To thundering hooves, and foxes sly. 
We raise a glass to the life we love 
For grass below and sky above. 
To friendships forged on ridge and valley 
When going is deep, yet hounds still rally. 
To outreached hands, when we meet the earth, 
To reckless laughter, wind and turf. 
To the horn that calls us all back home 
To aching muscles, weary bone. 
God bless this hunt and every friend 
May hounds run ever o'er this land. 
by Carla Hawkinson

Best,

Carla 
Walland, TN 
http://www.echobrookefarm.com/ 


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