A Glorious Morning for the 126th Opening Meet of The Loudoun Hunt
Trucks pulling horse trailers kept arriving. Some fortunate riders who live close to the meet, hacked over. It is THAT Time of the Year – Opening Meet! There is a cheer and anticipation unlike other meets. What is special about today? Tradition, the hard work leading up to this day, and the anticipation of the combination of formality with fellowship.
Perfection! The term, “perfection,” used in the same sentence with the word, horse, can get tricky, but everyone aims for perfection or as close as possible, even if for just a moment, especially for t his day.
The well turned out riders in their formal attire, the horses with their braided manes and fancy clips, are finally clean and sparkly. For the moment. The pageantry of Opening Meet starts days before the appointed date. Horses are bathed, their hair clipped, their manes pulled, their hooves polished, their tack cleaned, trucks have been washed and trailers have been rearranged, jackets have been picked up from the cleaners, boots gleam, and breeches are spotless.
On the morning of the meet, most riders begin before dawn preparing their horses and organizing their tack and clothes. Time flies. Arriving on time is a must. All want to present an elegant classic image.
The horses, on the other hand, have spent the night rolling in the grass or in their stall, scratching their necks to release any pre-braided portions of their manes, and if they can find a nice fresh pile of manure, especially if they are a grey horse, roll extra hard to leave contrasting spots and stains. They eat their breakfasts knowing that this is a special day. They can smell and feel the upcoming event.
With stains defeated, horses tacked up and loaded, riders dressed, trailers packed, and lists checked; the truck engines start and the trailers slowly pull out. On to the Meet!
Arriving early assures the plumb parking spots. The larger rigs covet those spots for ease of unloading, loading, and leaving. At the meet, tables are set with festive tablecloths, shot glasses, bottles of port, and cookies for the stirrup cup. In the meantime, each trailer is a small hub of energy – horses eagerly stamping their feet and giving an occasional whinny; riders tying stock tires, putting on their vests and coat, pulling on their gloves, and reaching for their whip; they finally lead their horses from their trailers, adjusting tack before mounting. This is an important process and no steps can be omitted without a consequence. Finally, girths are cinched and riders mount.
There is congeniality, greetings, and a toast to the day’s hunt. The masters and huntsman confer on strategy and direction. Finally, the hounds are released from their trailer. With tails (“masts” in fox hunting terms”) wagging, sniffing, and hound camaraderie, they settle down and await their orders from the huntsman. Announcements, compliments and gratitude to landowners for the privilege to hunt their land, the masters lead off in search for the elusive fox.
The art of the hunt is steeped in tradition that is hundreds of years old. Upholding tradition is paramount. However, today, on a nearly 80 degree day, the traditional Melton hunt coats were waived. Visitors re always welcome to see the hunt off. Loudoun Fairfax Hunt Joint Master, Donna Rogers and Middletown Valley Beagles Huntsman, Alasldair (Ally) Storer, were among the day’s guests.
Fox hunting today is not hunting with intent to kill, It is “hunting” in the hope of viewing the fox, watching the hounds work, riding across beautiful open country, while riding one’s favorite horse, and enjoying good fellowship.
The Loudoun Hunt was established in 1894 making 2020 its 126th season. Joint Masters, Lawrence T. Dale III, Mary Sell, and Carroll Galvin took the field with huntsman, Ron Johnsey, and their pack of American fox hounds. Tally-Ho! (That is the call when the fox is viewed).
Those spotlessly clean horses with their polished hooves and the riders with their clean shiny boots will return with leaves in their pockets, mud splatters, and sometimes a few cuts and scrapes on noses and cheeks from low-lying branches and brambles. The conversation will revolve around which way the fox went, and how the hounds worked, while sipping appropriate refreshments and enjoying bites of tasty delights that had been lovingly prepared the day before. And the fox(es)? They snicker on a log that all those humans on their horses and their dogs were no match for their cunning and agility.
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