<script async src="//pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script> <script> (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({ google_ad_client: "ca-pub-9056490289876710", enable_page_level_ads: truWhat would you say was the perfect fox-hunting country? Rolling grassland and perfectly tended coops? Open prairie and hard-running quarry? Frosty desert or humid cotton fields? I have seen them all over the past two months, on an 8,000-mile adventure from California to Maryland and back, and I still could not give you an answer. There are swift hounds and skilled huntsmen across America, hand-in-hand with unparalleled hospitality. Now back in England, and (almost) over the jet-lag, I am flicking through the pages of my hunting diary and scrolling through hundreds of photographs to tell the tale.
Setting off from San Francisco
It all began at the Tejon Ranch in
California, where vast open countryside and superlative hound work drew fox-hunters
from all over to the 2018 Hunt Week, showcasing no
fewer than seven packs. Encompassing 270,000 acres of billiard-table-flat
farmland, rolling cattle pasture, mountains, valleys and wildflower-strewn
desert, the Tejon Ranch once hosted a meet of the West Hills hunt of Los Angeles, home
pack of Spencer Tracy and Walt Disney. When the West Hills lost country to the
LA sprawl, it amalgamated with the Santa Fe further south, and Tejon Ranch seized the opportunity to add fox-hunting to its growing equestrian
portfolio. Today, the hunt is flourishing in the hands of Tyce and Hilary
Mothershead, ably assisted by their four-year-old daughter Finlay. After
hunting the North Hills of Iowa for eight seasons, Tyce left freezing
winters behind to take on Tejon, then using mainly Penn-Marydel
and crossbred American hounds. Now, together with Peter Wilson of the Grand Canyon Hounds in Arizona, he is fulfilling the principal of breeding for your
country by crossing sight hounds with foxhounds to produce a pack undaunted by
the dry, scentless grass of California. The sight hounds negate the need for
good scenting conditions by viewing the quarry, and the foxhounds bring the
necessary drive, determination and stamina to give a run, backing up the sight hounds’
initial view. Purists may be sceptical, but it only takes half an hour behind
Tyce or Peter to see that it works.
Tejon Ranch, with the I-5, the main interstate
through California, to the left
Setting the bar high
After a night catching up on the gossip at the
Mothersheads’ house, the Tejon hounds started off the week on a day on which formal clothing was discarded for whatever was
comfortable in the heat. The meet, or fixture in American parlance, was in gently
sloping foothills beyond almond orchards, the vast agricultural plain to the west hidden
in the heat haze. Thankfully, the whoopie wagon, a truck fully stocked with
beer, Coke and water, was on hand all week. Views of coyotes here are frequent
and superb, with staff and field often able to see the whole pageant of quarry,
pack and followers at once, and such was the case with the last run of the day. Just as some of the field had made the peculiar suggestion of turning for the
trailers visible in the near distance, a coyote was viewed just ahead of a herd of cattle and we were off without
a second glance at the boxes, flat out across the turf. My magnificent draft x
Thoroughbred Dutch responded to my excitement with enthusiasm; we took a coop
and thundered in pursuit, to catch up after a breathless gallop with a very
happy group of hounds and huntsman. Tyce
squeezed frosting into panting mouths to restore the hounds’ blood sugar, and one
sensible chap even claimed the icebox as his private pool as the rest of us watched in envy. As always, Chink,
mainly Saluki and the red-coated flag-bearer for the sight-hound cross, was at
the forefront of the action.
Me and Dutch, in casual attire
Courtesy of Cathy Evans
A much-needed splash!
Courtesy of Cathy Evans
Happy hound: the great hunter and sire Chink stretched out in the shade
Courtesy of Cathy Evans
Hilary and Tyce returning home
Courtesy of Cathy Evans
Three more excellent days followed courtesy
of Red Rock of Reno, Nevada, Juan Tomas of New Mexico and Grand Canyon. With Red Rock and Grand Canyon, we hunted the Globes to the north of the Tejon country,
a paradise of steep rolling pastures and canyons interspersed with water
troughs vital to cattle, horses and hounds alike. You need a horse with stamina
for these long inclines, a horse such as my chestnut Leo, kindly lent, as Dutch was, by the Mothersheads. He was described by Hilary as ‘obnoxious’ and Tyce as
‘aggravating’, and I admit his habit of tossing his head to both sides whilst
galloping downhill was a little disconcerting, but we stayed together and he
certainly never ran out of steam!
Leo's ears
Tejon hunt country. Otherwise known as paradise
Both packs of hounds proved their quality on those long grassy hills. On the Sunday, Red Rock responded to a holloa by whip Hilary on a distant ridge and swooped like a flock of birds in tight formation up and over and along a ridgeline, in full view of the field. Despite temperatures being a lot higher than their native high desert near Lake Tahoe, they refused to give up and left most of the field far behind as we slid down near vertical slopes, plunged across dry creek beds and negotiated narrow ravines. A pause at a cattle trough was extremely welcome for hounds and horses alike, and Angela Murray MFH, who has recently begun to take over hunting hounds from Red Rock founder Lynn Lloyd MFH, was thrilled with their performance, as she should be.
Red Rock flag flying proudly at the meet
If you zoom in, you can see Angela and hounds in the distance...
Tyce, Finlay, briefly eschewing her father's quad for her mother's horse, and Hilary,
with Mike Campeau MFH snatching a brief nap in the background
First flight field master Carolyn Colson on the handsome
quarter horse Tomahawk, whom readers may recall
from an earlier blog entry!
Angela Murray MFH and Lynn Lloyd MFH of Red Rock,
with Finlay (hiding), Hilary and Tyce Mothershead
A nasty moment
On Wednesday, after a slightly quiet
start, Grand Canyon were on a strong line when they passed a water trough, and
Peter seized the opportunity to water hounds, after which he simply laid them
back on and they swept on in full cry. Water helps scent, rehydrating the
hounds’ noses (airport sniffer dogs in hot countries have benefitted from the
regular application of wet cloths), but to pick up a trail again so smoothly
was extremely impressive. Sadly, only Peter, Tyce and Hilary were witnesses, as
the rest of us were forced to take the long route after an unexpected and
horrible accident. Grand Canyon whip Jimmy Boyle, who would be embarrassed to
hear me say that he is one of the best in the business, suffered a rotational
fall when his horse misjudged a coop and somersaulted over, breaking his
clavicle. It could have been far far worse, and although he was swept off in
an ambulance, he was defying the doctors to walk out hounds the next day.
Knowing he would not want anyone to give up their day for him, I and a few
others seized the opportunity to continue, as more civic-minded types took
Jimmy’s horse home. A long gallop ensued, scanning the horizon
for a glimpse of hounds and staff. Eventually, we spotted them far ahead, silhouetted against a bank of mist and the mountains in centre of the ranch.
They had given their pilot best, but all were well pleased with their work.
Unusually, no new customers were spotted on the two-hour ride home; given the
heat, they were probably snacking on grapes in the orchards and chewing the
irrigation pipes, a habit that renders them jolly unpopular with the farmers.
We were swift to echo their example in seeking sustenance, feasting on
delicious beef provided by Grand Canyon back at the ranch and relishing a seat
in the shade. In February!
Lynn Lloyd MFH leads Adren Nance MFH up a bit of a hill
Spot the whip! Whipping-in here is akin to being in the crow's nest
on board ship, scanning the sea of grass for the enemy
Tyce (left) and Peter Wilson of Grand Canyon plot their next move
Keep going? Okay!
Spotted! Staff on the horizon
Heading in with a job well done
Hearing-aid fail
In between, Juan Tomas took a turn on
the gently rolling fields leading up from the orchards of the plain. Despite it
being far hotter than the high desert from which these hounds hail,
the pack proved its quality under its relaxed yet determined huntsman Adren
Nance, with unrelenting work and a couple of good runs, one of which surprised
a group of Mexican farm workers with its proximity. Surely the highlight of
their week. Leo was far better behaved with the addition of a standing martingale,
although he could never be described as boring. The day had an extra dimension
for me when the warning bleep of low batteries sounded in my hearing aids. Just
before we jumped a coop, they failed altogether, leaving me
reliant on sight and the good nature of my fellow followers. Fortunately, I had
both elements in abundance, although, naturally, few could resist the odd
tease. I would repeat the jokes, if I knew what they had been… Remarkably,
the question of how deaf people should alert people to their presence in the hunting
field was posed in a Facebook group that very day, with some people suggesting
a tail ribbon or armband to mark out the affected party. Personally, I would
abhor any distinguishing tag. Simply tell people: if necessary, the master
could make an announcement at the meet, and any good field master will take
note without being either dismissive or patronising. Hunting people are nothing
if not helpful, and I have always found it far less embarrassing or awkward for
all concerned to be upfront and honest about my deafness – with a smile!
Adren Nance MFH, huntsman of Juan Tomas from New Mexico
Setting off. No adjustment has been made to the colours in this shot!
Contemplating a Man from Snowy River descent. Moments before,
two bald eagles had been swooping below us
Hilary in her happy place, the far horizon
Wil. E. Coyote, beware! A record-breaking
trial
Roping demonstrations from the
multi-talented Tyce, Superbowl Sunday at the Red Rock house, melt-in-the-mouth
ribs at the home of Shari and Tony Hopkinson and an afternoon at the Tejon outlet
stores, ridiculously clean and urban after the ranch, filled up our rest days,
and we were all ready to go when the first day of the Performance Trial dawned.
Part of the American Master of Foxhounds Association (MFHA) Hark Forward tour, which
encompasses the whole of the US and strengthens the ties of friendship that
bind the hunting community together, performance trials see a small number
of hounds from each visiting pack, in this case five from five, hunt as one group
under the host huntsman, who will not enter his own pack. Each hound is
identified by a number on its flank and judges, drawn from staff and the MFHA,
ride alongside the pack and note the deeds of individual hounds into a voice
recorder. Marks are given for Hunting (finding the scent), Trailing (working
the line), Full Cry (self-explanatory), Marking (telling the huntsman where the
quarry has gone to ground or, occasionally, the kill) and Endurance (look it
up). Over two days, the top hounds for each category are worked out, and
finally the best overall hound and best overall pack are revealed.
Lynn makes the acquaintance of a bear at the Hopkinsons' home. As you do.
Thank you Shari! Delicious lunch
Tyce (left) and his roping partner Art, aged 83
At Tejon, Tyce carried the horn and
the visiting packs were: Santa Ynez Valley Hounds (huntsman, Claire
Buchy), Red Rock Hounds (Angela Murray), Santa Fe West Hills (Terrel Paine),
Big Sky Hounds (Renee Daniels-Mantle) and Grand Canyon (Peter Wilson). Sadly,
Adren had to dash home to New Mexico for work (he’s a lawyer in real life;
imagine, a proper job!). Fred Berry MFH of the Sedgefield in North Carolina flew
in to represent the MFHA, and, to combat the effect of the blistering temperatures
on hounds more used to snow, a caravan time of 6am was set. Accordingly, we rose at 4am to reach the barn, groom and tack up, and were ready
to leave at 6am at the head of the procession of some 18 rigs that wound down the
Grapevine Pass to the plain and through the orchards to the fixture. It must
have been quite a sight for the drivers of the many giant semis (lorries) that thunder
along the interstate every day.
The pioneering method of stencilling numbers on hounds
initiated by Renee Daniels-Mantle MFH (right).
initiated by Renee Daniels-Mantle MFH (right).
They stayed on even after a dip in a pond
I had originally intended to move on to
Colorado before the trial, but I was forbidden to leave and took little
persuading to stay longer. One consequence was that there were no horses left,
but I had an excellent alternative: clinging onto the back of Mike Campeau’s
quad bike. As master of Tejon Hounds and vice-president of Ranch Operations,
he knows every ditch and rock, and proved to give me a ride every bit as
thrilling as the four-legged version. I did hint that my parents might not be
very pleased if I didn’t come home, but it turns out to be true that quads can storm
up vertical slopes…
My view, on four wheels rather than four legs. Equally exciting!
A stylish pair, I think you'll agree!
Courtesy of Diane Antisdel
The sun rose over the Tejon mountains as
we mounted up at Alamo Solo, but there was a pleasant freshness to the early
morning air. We set off south, Mike and I taking the westerly flank. Almost
immediately, we saw one coyote scarpering into the orchards, followed by another
that ran through a herd of cows in front of the pack, covering his scent and
threading a fenceline to the safety of the almond trees. Hounds spoke on that trail,
but ran north, on what we feared was the heel line (backwards), but Tyce
trusted them enough to let them work it out and, sure enough, another coyote
got up. No doubt, it had relied on us assuming hounds were running heel and
leaving it alone, but it had left it too late and all three mounted fields had
a splendid view of full cry. I, meanwhile, found out just how fast a quad can
go at the behest of Mike’s capable thumb.
Fred Berry MFH admires the pack after the first action of the weekend,
with Grand Canyon Clint to the right
Claire Buchy, huntsman of Santa Ynez, was resplendent,
although surely warm, in her formal French coat
Shari Hopkinson on the sometimes excitable Simon,
formerly a stunt horse. Western attire is welcome out here
The ever cheerful Jill Christensen and Annie Bradfield, visitors from the
sadly disbanded Los Altos Hounds and, perhaps, new members of Tejon...
Another world: the lush green foothills of Tejon's mountain backbone
An oasis, thankfully not a mirage
Troy and his tired charges travel home in style
Partying and well-earned praise
What makes a hunt ball? It certainly isn’t
tailcoats and diamonds: the Blue Jean Ball that night was held in the covered
arena and cowboy hats and warm cashmere jumpers were de rigeur. At sundown, we were reminded that it was still February.
Fred thanked Tyce and Hilary and praised the stand-out hounds of the day, then
a few dedicated souls took to the dancefloor. It was a gathering that encompassed the spirit of hunting and Hark Forward, offering the chance to shoot the breeze with visitors from Virginia, New Jersey, Iowa, Virginia - including Jake J. Carle II, revered and always amusing former huntsman of the Keswick - and even Wiltshire, UK.
Prize-giving under the heaters
Jimmy Boyle, up and about despite his crashing fall, and
Ed Magor, visiting with Hen Hine from the Tedworth in England
Good friends: me with my wonderful host Shari;
Angela Murray and Renee Daniels-Mantle
Fred Berry and Tyce Mothershead flank the award-winning huntsmen
of the day, Claire Buchy, Peter Wilson and Angela Murray
Finlay likes to add her own kind of energy to photographs!
Sadly, the prospect of a second 4am start put the kibosh on a late night (we should just have stayed at the barn), but we were rewarded by a beautifully cool morning a few hours later. A touch of cloud cover thwarted the sun and the haze had dissipated to yield spectacular views. Hounds worked their way up a creek to the lush, green foothills, earning marks for Trailing, but unable to open up to Full Cry. Grand Canyon Clint and Lolo did a sterling job of finding the faint line, with Santa Ynez Eager and Hubert taking it on. After a brief whoopie wagon break, as the sun cleared the cloud, we drew west towards the plain and put up a young coyote that streaked past us, the leading hounds on its heels and the whole pack showing what Full Cry really means. Mike spun the quad at full speed in pursuit, and I don’t think I breathed for the next few minutes. Another superb day. More coyotes had been hunted and marked than at any trial the participants had attended, testament to the richness of the land and the quality of the hounds.
Dawn over the mountains. The Moon stayed out to watch, too
All those lights are hunt vehicles, and there were many more!
Cracking on
A touch of Irish green amid the drought
I could never tire of this landscape
The ever-elegant and capable Hilary Mothershead,
the kind of whipper-in every huntsman dreams of
A satisfied huntsman
The most wonderful thing about these
trials is that a bunch of hounds who have never met before can work so well
together; humans, watch and learn. That evening, huntsmen and masters paid
tribute to their canine colleagues, Tyce reading the scores that had been so
painstakingly compiled by Amy Lessinger of Red Rock and Hilary. Several hounds
garnered special mentions: Big Sky Baritone, who never gave up; Red Rock Yelp,
who showed great ability to control the line when trailing; Grand Canyon Kobalt,
involved in everything; and Santa Ynez Hubert, whose voice you couldn’t fail to
hear.
Crowned overall winners after the two days were:
Hunting: 1st, Grand Canyon
Kobalt, 2nd, GC Lolo, 3rd, GC Clint, 4th Red
Rock Yelp
Trailing: 1st, Santa Ynez Valley
Hounds Hubert, 2nd SYVH Eager, 3rd, SYVH Éclair, 4th
SYVH Easy
Full Cry: 1st, Grand Canyon
Kobalt, 2nd GC Clint, 3rd GC Lolo, 4th GC
Komet
Marking: 1st, Grand Canyon
Lolo, 2nd, GC Kobalt, 3rd, GC Clint, 4th Red
Rock Yelp
Endurance: 1st, Grand Canyon
Lolo, 2nd, GC Kobalt, 3rd, GC Clint, 4th, GC
Komet
Grand Canyon Lolo took the overall prize, followed by her pack mates Clint and Kobalt, and, to no one’s surprise and everyone’s delight, Grand Canyon won the pack title.
Full results, with ranks 1-10, can be found on the MFHA website
Champion hound Grand Canyon Lolo
Grand Canyon Clint, second overall. Apologies for the quality of the photograph,
the only shot I could discover of him was in a corner, far away!
Fred Berry MFH with Grand Canyon Kobalt, third overall
Santa Ynez Valley Hound (Sir) Hubert, winner of the Trailing category
and huntsman Claire Buchy's favourite
Grand Canyon Lolo, also Huntsman's Choice:
"Consistency is key, and Lolo never stopped. She was always there,
and made the whole run up and down the mountain on the first day"
Looking at those scores, the Arizona
pack seems to dominate, and there is no doubt that Peter Wilson has done a
superb job in his vast open desert where stamina and drive is crucial. But it
should take nothing away from the other packs. All should be proud of how their
hounds had performed for a strange huntsman in a strange country, and it
brought a lump to my throat to see Claire moved to tears at the praise
for her beloved Sir Hubert and Renee so thrilled at how her fledgling pack, founded
only five years ago, held its own. Peter, when invited to speak, noted his
pleasure in attending and deflected compliments with typical modesty onto Lynn
Lloyd, founder of Red Rock, who was the leader of the drive to widen the pool
of stud-book registered hounds. Red Rock is all running walker hound - Lolo herself is ¾ walker - but there was resistance to listing them next to the established English,
America, Penn-Marydel and crossbred types. Next stop: to register the sight-hound
crosses. After all, everything was new once!
Living legends: Lynn Lloyd, founder of Red Rock Hounds, and Claire Buchy,
who had never hunted, let alone carried a horn, before she took on Santa Ynez
The new kids on the block: Renee Daniels-Mantle, first huntsman
of Big Sky Hounds, and Lynn with Angela Murray,
to whom she has passed the horn
Leading the way: Tyce Mothershead of Tejon and
Peter Wilson of Grand Canyon
Four female huntsmen and a couple of blokes.
What had Tyce said to Lynn?!
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Up next: across the mountains to Colorado
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