Well, it started out inauspiciously. I was halfway up I-80, the snow was showing no signs of abating, and just as I had gotten my chains on and was starting to think I might make it over Donner Pass, I came to the road crew throwing down flares and redirecting traffic back east.
“Well, sh-t,” I said to myself. Wondering what to do, I got off in Grass Valley and went to the Taco Bell drive through. I never eat that stuff, but it looked like I was going to miss dinner at the B&B. I called Red Rock and gave them the scoop. Mirabile mirabilis, within ten minutes of my SOS, they had coordinated a sleepover at a hunt member’s home in Lincoln, urging me to come over the mountains in the morning. Things were looking up.
I arrived at my hosts’ house (I had met them only once, a year ago), and they received me like family–the kind one actually wants to see, for that matter! They gave me refreshments, a delicious dinner, a tour of their barn, and as cozy a bed to sleep in as I could have hoped for. And in the morning, their coffee was as strong as I make it at home. My kind of people, I tell you! The husband and I piled into his 4WD and headed off to Red Rock at 6:30 AM. The roads were still in relatively bad shape, but we got through in three hours. The MFH was kind enough to delay shoving off.
It turned out that Red Rock squared me away with the same livery mount–an enormous pinto, probably better than 18 hh–that I rode the first time I went out with them last year. Both of us were substantially more relaxed than we were on that first date. As we headed off, I remembered that I had assumed, a year ago, that hunting was simply an extended XC course, and consequently had ridden mainly in two point and kept my mount more or less continually on the bit, which exhausted the hell out of me and undoubtedly made the horse wonder what in God’s name I was so wound up about. (Of course, he was very forgiving.) In the meantime, I had wised up just a tad. I started the horse on the buckle and basically left him there, riding kind of like we were gathering cattle except for when we came to a coop. Mind you, it was a rather mellow day, but more about that anon.
The weather was very nice, in a High Sierra kind of way–about 20 degrees out, max, but no wind and perfectly clear skies. I guess I’m kind of blessed in getting overheated much more easily than chilled to the bone, but even so, the weather was just perfect. It was an informal hunt, so I was free to layer more or less as I pleased, but I was glad to be able to dispense with ear covering or lined gloves.
There was not a lot of action. Early on, it seemed the hounds had cornered a coyote in some vertiginous boulders, but nothing came of it. Perhaps the coyote gave them the slip. Regardless, this episode provided one of the more sublime sights of the day–the hounds bravely scaling these rocky heights like a crew of firemen or a squad of soldiers landing at Normandy, and then even more bravely jumping back down (as much as 30 feet, I think) like a bunch of flying squirrels.
Of course, everything about Red Rock is sublime, in the strict sense of the word–a sensation of profound joy that begins in an intimation of the awesome or terrifying. Everything there is ruggedness itself–the hounds, the horses, the landscape, the riders.
Anyway, we rode around the country searching for a scent for four hours or so, jumping a coop now and again, mainly just enjoying the ride, the fellowship, the land, and the sight of those hounds doing their marvelous thing. One moment in particular, towards the end, was straight out of Breughel. Alas, it was followed by our coming upon a gun hunter, who proudly declared that he had dispatched a coyote which was at that moment lying skinned out in his truck nearby. There is no scarcity of coyotes in those parts, but I did have to wonder whether this gentleman had queered our sport for the day somehow. Che sera sera, though. I have no animus for any kind of legal hunting.
Arriving back at the hunt’s precinct, we accounted for the hounds, put them away in the kennels, and headed off to an absolutely fabulous breakfast in the clubhouse. For once, I was relaxed enough to totally pig out. Even after my third hunt last year (I can only make it out at monthly intervals), I still had a little too much adrenaline to dine without gastric inhibition at the hunt breakfast, but this time was different. Indeed, the beauty of the day–aside from the myriad forms of literal beauty hunting presents to the senses–was finally being fully relaxed all the way through the hunt, even when we encountered icy patches and the horses were slip-sliding about. It was a whole new ballgame.
Aside from going into it with just a tiny bit of experience hunting under my belt, one thing that clearly made a big difference was spending the last few months working with a TB mare I bought over the summer, a seven-year-old, unraced, who might generously be described as having been “broke to buck” when I first got her. I doubt she’d had anyone on her more than a dozen times–had no ground manners whatsoever, basically wouldn’t agree to walk or trot more than once around the arena without demanding to canter, nose in the air, couldn’t change direction without pitching a bucking fit, otherwise a total spastic unless jumping (and of course, the jumping with alacrity was the desideratum that made the mare’s green BS worth working through). But I digress. My point is that this mare has become a surprisingly quiet, sweet, even affectionate girl, and along the way has turned me into an infinitely more calm rider, which translates into my being able to focus much more on everything going on in the hunt field besides my riding–namely, the hounds working and the majesty of the terrain, but also my profound gratitude for the wonderful human companions I find there.
Truly, I would give anything to be able to renounce all my existing responsibilities and hunt full-time. That being out of the question, I will look forward dreamily to my next trip to Red Rock, which is fittingly scheduled for Christmas Eve.
That’s very special as is your writing talents! Really enjoyed your report.