My Short Career as a Professional Irish Bank Diver- AKA Fox Hunting in Ireland

When I last left you, Matt had broken two fingers while trying to give Rocky a bath and I had to decide if I was going to opening hunt or if I should bow out until we can try together. One sleepless night and 3 full scale panic attacks full of “Oh God! What am I doing?!?!? I’m too old for this! I’m too young to die! Wait; am I too old or too young?? If I die can Lester (one of the puppies we raised) come to my funeral? All of these things crossed my lips at least once, and but I eventually agreed with Matt that I should go. It would be a shame not to go, Millie was ready after all, and I’d worked really hard on her, I worked on that bank, and of course I had a full flask ready to go. So maybe we can do this after all, even without my wingman.

After some more brushing and spit shine I had Matt hold Millie so I could have a picture of her looking the cleanest she will ever look, well at least until next year’s opening hunt.

Er ma gerd! Look at that beast! And the horse isn't bad either! ;-)  She is SOOO CLEAN!

 She was gorgeous! Shining white it was nearly blinding and that is a feat for any grey horse, and Millie is no exception. She’s made it quite clear that she prefers to be brunette so for her to be that pretty and clean?!? Whoo hoo! By 10:30am we were loaded and ready to go. As I said, Millie looked pretty darn good and I was looking fairly well put together myself so even if I made a complete ass out of myself, I at least looked the part! The screaming and crying as we loaded her up and left Rocky behind was so dramatic, I started to look for the camera crew. Really guys? 4 months ago you didn’t even know each other and now you both have panic attacks when one leaves the other? Oy! Young love!   
When we arrived it was time for a drink in the pub, and my drink of choice was a nice hot port. Not too sweet, not to potent, it is just right for a shot of courage before we all head off. I recently read on the site Foxhunters on Facebook something along the lines of, “We drink before we hunt to make the jumps look smaller in the field, and we drink after we hunt to make them much larger in our stories.” This is why I started my morning with a hot port and a flask full of brandy and port in my pocket. After about an hour it was time for me to do final brush ups on Millie and mount up. 

And I'm up! Millie is making a wee bit of crabby face at me, but that's because she wanted to go hang out with her NEW boyfriend, Monty.

 

It was love at first sight! Monty the gorgeous grey standing regally next to Millie making crabby ears showing her favorite expression.

Once we got in front of the pub, our distinguished chairman said a few words of encouragement to the field and thanked the pub owner for their hospitality. 

Isn't it amazing when horses and their riders share the same expression? Pat was giving the opening speech before we all headed out.

A traditional Stirrup Cup before the hunt! The pub owner Denis was very gracious to us all!

The huntsman was out with the hounds and we were ready to go. I had been told that this was a pretty slow/relaxed day that starts with a good hack up the road to our first cast so while I was nervous, I was also very excited. The time had come for me to either live my dream or die trying. And yes, John the huntsman said Lester would be able to attend my funeral if I died in the field. He even said they’d rename the fixture from Robert’s cove to Jennifer’s last cove, so with that re-assuring thought in my head off we went. 

And they are off!

Up the road, clip clop, clip clop the sound of 120 hooves hitting the pavement at a trot and a canter. The clacking noise was music to my ears! I love the sound of hooves on pavement! Millie and I were staking out our position. 

And now we're off! The good thing about a grey/white horse is they're easy to find!

It was highly suggested to me to stay near the front or the middle because the obstacles will not be as messy during the middle as they would be if we were at the end. Then I saw it… our first bank into a field and a wave of panic hit me like a ton of bricks. You don’t just jump up banks into a field, you have to jump DOWN into the field! No one said anything about DOWN! Oh hell, what is going to happen here?!? I didn’t practice DOWN! So the first few horses popped up and down and went racing across the field, I was frantically listening to pointers from anyone who would give them in the seconds before Millie decided it was our turn. Just pop up, stay level, give her her head, and then push your feet out, heels down, and lean back a little. Be sure to get a good grip on the strap! You’ll be grand! Next thing I know I’m on top of the bank and thinking, this is not what I signed up for before my world dropped out from under me and I held onto that strap as if it were the only thing keeping me from certain death, which in that moment I was sure it was. Once we landed I figured we’d leisurely make our way to the rest of the field since they were not that far off, but Millie had other plans. With a quick jerk of the reins she was free and we were barreling towards the rest of the group and I was yelping, “Shit! Shit!! Shit!!!” trying to figure out where this speed demon came from and how the hell I was going to get my reins back. The mare I bought needed to be threatened with going to bed without supper before she’d go into a slow canter! Who was this beast of a completely different speed and level?  Once we caught up with the Field Master she went back to old-reliable Mille and tried to eat some grass because all that running made her hungry. I’m pretty sure breathing makes this one hungry, but since we both just survived I wasn’t going to deny her a celebratory snack. 

See the nice man in the red coat? That is Pat our chairman and Field Master!

Hey look! The rest of the field is here!!

Next up a few more banks and I stuck them… barely. Millie was a champ for it all. As I came tumbling near her neck she would stay steady and even slow a bit so I could wiggle my wobble back into the saddle. After a while Millie and I started getting a better understanding of each other, I learned to stay out of her way and she kept me safe. Somewhere along the way, my catholic upbringing and my awe of this transformed hunting machine caught up with me and I found myself praying for my life: 

Hail Millie full of grain, please God be with me!  Blessed are you among ponies, and blessed is the 5^th leg that appears when we need it.  Holy Mary mother of God stay with us hunters now and at the hour of our run…  Oh Shit! Hold on!!

Not sure when the halo appeared, but I'm pretty sure it was earned by watching over me!

Not the traditional prayer, but it seemed to fit along with lots of other 4 letter words, and longer prayers to God, Mary, Jesus, well hell, anyone who was listening out there and might help me survive this roller coaster. We were only an hour and half in when I started trying to give my mare away to other hunters, so I could get off this merry-go-round. Come on, you know you want to ride today! She’s awesome, it’s just pilot error that’s getting in the way! But I knew deep down I needed to stick with it and they agreed or just were enjoying the show. The full freak out happened when we came to electric fence tape. The field master shot off hell bent on jumping it and I kept saying, “I’m not jumping that, I’m not jumping that, I’m not jumping that!!!” When much to my delight a foot caught and SNAP! the fence tape was down and the chase was on! Off we went again up and down, over banks, dropping up to 5 feet off the other end and then rocketing off at a gallop as soon as the hooves touched the ground.  As we pulled up to a check I remembered I had the flask of brandy and port in my pocket. While I was afraid of getting too tipsy to stay on, I only had one gulp and passed it along to the other riders. This is a long tradition in fox hunting, to share your flask. 
 

This photo gets to be extra large so you can see the flask in the lovely lady on the left's hand. The flask belongs to me (with my HitAir vest on the right) and was filled with Brandy & Port to help us be a small bit braver, but not too brave!

When it is really cold or really scary it is a fortunate rider that has a flask. You soon become a very welcome member of the hunts, but only if you’re generous and share. This is strictly in my nature, so of course the flask made the rounds with only a twinge of fear that my liquid courage would run out before my real courage did. As soon as the flask made it back into the pocket, we were off again! So many people in the field were encouraging me and helping me along I’m pretty sure I owe at least 4 people my first born child. I really couldn’t have asked to be out with a more encouraging group they were all amazing and so helpful.

Jumping down! This was a pretty nice small bank.

And off we go!

Mille really showed her mettle when we came to a downed electric fence that was on. The fence was being held down by a metal post kindly positioned by one of the junior members. Some of the horses wanted nothing to do with it. Somebody said they could probably feel a bit of the electric on the ground and so didn't want to go near it. After watching 3-4 different horses approach and peel off, I asked if I could give it a try. This is where I realized I officially trusted Millie the Magnificent, and although I wobbled and faltered a lot on our adventure, she trusted me as well. She walked right up to the electric fence stepped right over and gave a good lead to the other horses! Well done Millie!!! Nothing seemed to bother this mare and while she huffs and puffs when we take long slow treks, she had plenty of energy to spare for the days hunt! We repeated the wire thing again at another junction and she never flinched. I just needed to tell her, it’s OK and give her a good squeeze to ask her to move off and away we went! 

Trotting off a bit. The young lady on the left won best turned out and boy did she earn in! Well done Sophie and Buckley!

The adults share flasks, the kids share candy, lol! Some are better at sharing than others.

Four hours of frazzled nerves later we were done hunting and the Field Master was taking us over some banks for practice. I was exhausted and had made it the whole way without coming off, proud doesn’t even do justice to how great I was feeling. I was starting to feel like this might not have been the scariest thing I’d ever done! Maybe I could do this again! And then it happened…

Everyone was jumping down a bank and Millie decided I needed some more practice without warning me in advanced. When she took the steep drop I was not ready and POP! Off went my HitAir vest as I veered right when Millie veered left. It wasn’t actually that bad because of the vest, but my butt HURT. Now, it was time to pony up and get back on. Unfortunately my legs did not agree with this decision and while I really did want to get back on my horse nothing on my body was cooperating with this endeavor. To make matters worse I thought I had found a nice thing to climb up on to give me the boost I needed, but turns out a truck with a metal ramp is just too slick to use as a mounting block, but it worked great as a slide. So for the second time in less than a minute I found myself on the ground staring up at my very confused horse, “Dear God woman! Get your stuff together!” She seemed to say as I flailed on the ground for the second time.  This was never going to work and it was a long walk home, but God bless one of the members who got down and gave me a leg up onto my horse. Now when I say a leg up what I really mean is he hoisted my chunky butt all the way back on my short little mare because most of me felt like exhausted jelly. See, this is why it was important I get a short horse! Much higher and it would have taken a crane, or at least a really large beefy man to get me back in that saddle! 
 

HitAir vest inflated after my tumble. The vest inflates around your neck, ribs, and back to keep you safe when you fall off. My only complaint is that it's kind of a one hit wonder unless you have extra time to change your canister in the field. Not ideal for fox hunting, but you hope you don't fall off anyways.

The Field Master insisted I go up and down the bank one more time and I did while the rest of the field cheered me on. While I was embarrassed that I came off, it was really great to have all that support behind me.
 

Climbing up the bank after David gave me a lead. While Millie didn't need the lead, I was grateful for it especially since he just hoisted my ass back onto Millie.

Thank you David! Now the bad part is if you look at me I am doing that bank ALL wrong! You don't look down! You look up! You sit up and you put those legs out! I need to practice this until it becomes second nature. Had that bank been larger it would have been face plant # 2 for me.  I'm pretty sure I did it right the other direction because it was steeper that way than this way and I didn't face plant again.

 Once I successfully navigated the bank, I asked the Field Master if we were done moving for a bit. He asked if it was because I was going to get off my horse, to which I replied, “Hell no, you son probably got a hernia hoisting my butt back in this saddle! I’m not getting off until I have to! I just need to adjust my stirrups so they’re even.”  He approved and shortly after I was set, we headed off down a path next to a ridiculously steep drop off to go back to the pub. While the path was steep, and the drop off more than a bit nerve racking, the view was the best I’d ever seen, even better since I was seeing it from the back of my sweet surefooted mare. 
 

My view from Millie before heading back to the beach. In this shot are Dane and Sylvia, 2 of the most helpful and wonderful members of the hunt. Dane sponsored us as club members and has schooled Matt (it's now 2 weeks post-broken fingers as I'm writing this) on how to do banks and drops so he is better prepared for hunting this week than I was. He has offered to give me a lesson (or two!) as well so that I can be a better hunter and hopefully avoid face planting again!

Matt caught the field heading towards the path near the edge of the cliff on our way back down to the ocean

There we are! Near the back of this portion of the pack getting ready to make our descent. My little sure footed mare did so well on the narrow path!

The last part of the day was to take the horses in the ocean to wash them off. Millie walked right in like she was made for this sort of thing and proceeded to try to dig to China in the sand and surf. Being the diva that she is, I think she liked splashing everyone, especially me. Sadly I don't have any pictures of this because we made it back to the beach before Matt could drive down, so instead I'll share a few other fun photos from the day and shamelessly plug my website at the same time.

One of our whipper-ins Therese holding onto John the huntsman's horse as he works the hounds on foot

Here is Avril and Monty, Millie's boyfriend for the day. Aren't they fabulous?!?

John calling the hounds back to him. I love this shot so much!!

One of the awesome things about Ireland is you never know when you'll come across some neat old ruins!

Hopefully you’ve enjoyed my tale of hunting in Ireland. I tried it again the next week and managed to take a dive within the first hour and a half so I think I’ve given up hunting on horseback for a bit. My tush is pretty bruised up and my courage has plummeted. This past week Matt went out with Dane to practice and I think more than anything I need a lot of practice before I try again. Maybe with a bit more practice I’ll be comfortable enough to try it again, but even if not, I still enjoy watching those who hunt well  on horseback do so and especially love watching the hounds work no matter where I am. Tally ho!

A Hunting we will go! Or, um, er.. make that A hunting I will go?

I have already regaled you all with my tale of getting into fox hunting and how wonderful everyone has been in this fantastic community (click here for the last story), but everything I have said before has led up to the apex of my horsey life- Fox hunting in Ireland. I’ve been dreaming of this ever since I was a small child wide-eyed at the pictures of the magnificent riders in red coats, the beautiful ladies riding sidesaddle chasing across the country to the hounds soundlessly crying out on my walls.  My appetite was whetted in Maryland where Matt and I rode with the Goshen hounds. They are a very inclusive club and had a spot for everyone. Want to run like the wind and jump anything in site? First field for you! Want to get a good gallop or canter in with smaller jumps and a bit of maneuvering? Second field for you! Finally, do you want to watch the hounds work from above and take it easy learning the way of the sport? Then it is 3^rd field for you! 

Matt and I all dressed up for a fun day in 3rd field with the Goshen Hounds with our trusty horses Bailey and Izzy.

Matt and I rode primarily in 3^rd field unless there were only 2 fields that day so we rode second field way in the back because Matt was very new to horses and I wanted him to have the best eexperience possible. The joke was that we were both like bad pennies, we always turned up.  Coming to Ireland I knew that the hunting was different. While in the Maryland there were lots of stubble fields, woods, and coops (triangle shaped jumps), along with “natural jumps/obstacles” (logs that fell down and creeks) that we have to get around, I knew Ireland was full of things called, banks, ditches, and drains but had no idea what this actually meant. To prepare for our future endeavors as Irish fox hunters Matt and I took some lessons at a local riding school so Matt could learn how to jump and I could gain some confidence back. If you’re ever in Kinsale, Cork Ireland, I HIGHLY recommend Kinsale Equestrian Center! Zoe is AMAZING! After about 8 months of lessons we were both in better shape and better riders, though I was still more than a bit chicken over jumps. After a few high-velocity emergency dismounts that ended in lots of pain and broken stuff, I have a hard time trusting that I’ll make it safely onto the other side of a jump while still on my horse and without a bucking fit as the piece de la resistance. But after the 8 months we decided it was time to purchase horses for hunting.

Our criteria was not very long, we wanted something old enough to know better, 8-14 yrs old sounded about right. We wanted something that had hunted before because if we were going to be inexperienced hunters, we wanted horses who were smart enough and had done it enough to make up for our lack of experience. I wanted a short horse so that it was less of a distance to get on or possibly fall off. What can I say, I’m always thinking ahead! Lastly we wanted horses that were affordable so that we would have enough money left over to be able to house, feed, and clothe them according to the lifestyle I think they should have.  We were very lucky to find 2 horses that fit this criteria very well after a few interesting tests. The first horse we tried for Matt decided he missed his pony friends and took off like a bat out of hell with me holding on for dear life. Yes, you heard that right, me holding onto the horse that was supposed to be for Matt. Why was I on this horse you ask? Because I’m the more experienced rider and hopped on all horses first before I let my precious husband get on. So as this 17hh horse hurtles faster and faster towards his barn with no breaks or notice of me on his back I had pretty much so decided this guy was probably not for Matt. The horse did eventually stop and once his pony was allowed out with him he behaved very well so Matt thought he was grand! Didn’t I think he was great?!? No dear, this one is not for you.  This was just the first of 2 horses who ran away with me while I gave them a try. Needless to say none of them came home with us.  But then I met Millie.

Does this horse make my butt look big?

Millie was advertised as the safest mare in the world and completely bomb proof. She was 12 years old, hunted for many seasons and the kid who owned her wanted something with a bit more pep. Perfect for me! I rode her up and down his road and she was a gem! So we made a deal for her and took her home for a 2 week trial. Around this same time one of the members of South Union Foxhounds mentioned he was selling his horse whom I had seen many times hunting last year. Rocky was a rock star in the hunt field and seemed like a good match for Matt. Too slow as a whips horse, but knows his job in the field. So after about 2 months of looking we found our mounts and it was time to get to know them.   

 

Welcome home Millie and Rocky!!! I swear she's not that short! It's just the angle and the tall grass!

Millie being a typical mare decided that she needed to immediately go into raging heat and shake her bon-bon at Rocky nearly any chance she got. Rocky seemed confused by the whole matter and ignored her at first. Once he realized what in the world she was about, as soon as she waggled her lady bits at him he’d drop his man-parts and waggle them back at her much to my chagrin. This was further embarrassing because they seemed to do this most often when the neighbor’s kids came over to visit. What’s he doing? Oh never mind, that’s how they say hi, kind of like when dogs sniff each other’s butts. Yes, she did just try to pee on his nose… I’ve got nothing. 

Hi Handsome! You seem interesting!

Actually I hate you now and am pinning my ears because I am a fickle mare!

Right away Matt and I started taking them out on treks around the roads nearby and after a few fields were harvested our kind neighbors allowed us to take the horses into the field and get in a good canter or two. 

One of the views from our hacks around the area

Things were shaping up well and we were right on track for opening hunt in November. We applied for full membership to the club and were graciously given an “Intro to hunting” meeting with a member who was sponsoring us. Many of the rules of hunting were the same in Ireland as they are in the states though some of the terms are a bit different so I was glad of the lesson! The weekend before opening hunt Matt and I stumbled across a “practice bank” where we could leap up into one of the neighbor’s fields. Ah ha! A great place to practice banks! We leapt up into the field and away we could go! Millie and I sized up the bank and took our leap. Two bunny hops up and Millie and I were up! Before I could congratulate myself on my first bank Matt and Rocky came crashing up. This not only surprised me, but Matt as well. Turns out Rocky REALLY doesn’t like being left behind.  To see if Millie had the same predilection Matt and I went around and he tried the bank first on Rocky. After he went up, Millie hung around with me at the bottom as if she had nothing better to do than stand around and chew on my boots. Did I mention that the way she makes her boredom known is to turn around and nibble at my feet? Oh, well that’s her way of saying she’s annoyed at me. She has more personality than most humans I know and knows how to express herself very well. Her main expression is, “FEED ME NOW OR FEEL MY PONY FURY!!” which I’ve come to understand is the typical battle cry of most mares.  I took her nonchalance as a good sign and edged her towards the bank where she scaled it like a cat and we went on our merry way.  What have I been worried about? These banks are easy! Well, at least that’s what I thought…

Millie gives the stink ear when she's eating. No she is not sharing... EVER!

Fast forward to the day before opening hunt, and I’m a bundle of nerves. Sweet God, what had I gotten us into? Will we die? I bought one of the newest safety features in horse riding called a HitAir Vest which is like an airbag for your horse. When you and your horse unintentionally part company, a rip cord is pulled and POP! You now have an airbag that goes around your neck, back, and ribs! Brilliant! 
 

Me modeling the latest in safety gear  for horses over my hunt coat of course! Might as well get the whole picture!

While hunting is always a bit of a dangerous sport, this will at least make it a little less traumatic.  I had shaved both horses the day before taking nearly 3 hours for both of them and it was time for them to get a bath so they’d be sparkling clean and plaited ( pronounced- platted). This summer we purchased a wonderful device called a “hot water boy” on the recommendation of a friend. When I heard the name I was actually hoping we were getting a housemate, but it turns out it’s just a little box that heats water so the horses get a nice warm shower no matter what the weather is outside.  

What I thought I was getting on the left and what really came on the Right. Sometimes the names just don't live up to the expectation. Think I can sue for false advertising?

 While Millie wasn’t thrilled about her bath she was a good girl and let me wash her up only turning around to bite me on the butt once, once again a trade mark of her people. 

While technically a Connemara pony (though she is horse size at 15.2hh) I'm pretty sure a sheep got into her lineage at some point. This is only after observing the amount of hair I was able to shave off her as you can see above.

After I went inside to get a couple of things ready, Matt began washing Rocky. About 10 minutes later I hear, Whoa, Whoa, WHOA! AAARRGGGHHH!!!!! BANG!! S&#$!!!! ROCKY!!!!!! Rocky pulled back on his halter, broke a board which scared him to death and caused him to run away. Matt went after him and I grabbed Millie thinking he might come back to his girlfriend. After what seemed like forever, we caught him and brought him back to the stable where I immediately checked him over. Poor baby was so scared! Matt popped by and mentioned we may need to go to the hospital because it turns out while Rocky was fine, Matt’s middle finger was bent at a weird angle and he was bleeding pretty soundly. Whoops probably should have checked the husband as well as the horse, but I just assumed he could take care of himself. Our ever kind and patient neighbors helped get him cleaned up and told me where the nearest Swift Clinic was.  So rather than finishing up the horses, off we went to the clinic. 2 X-rays and 3 hours later we were back and Matt was diagnosed with 2 fractured fingers and some pretty nasty skin wounds from God knows what. I insisted they give him a tetanus shot just in case and off we went back home.

 

Hey there grossly swollen finger! Oh and that chunk taken out on the right side? Not a bother, right?

Umm, that middle finger is supposed to be straight, not curved like that. Ouch!

Hard to see on the ring finger, but a tiny fraction on the top flange and it's easier to see it on the middle finger.

 While all of this was going on Matt kept insisting that I stick with the plan and go hunting myself and he’d follow on foot.  I had no idea what to do, but since this is already pretty long…TO BE CONTINUED…