JenHunt
Well-Known Member
On Saturday the Bilsdale met at the appropriately named Hunters Hill, near Nether Silton. Meet was provided by the Huntsman, his wife, The treasurer and his wife and the 1st Whip and his wife (the secretary). Hunters Hill has a car park that leads straight into Forestry, so I had parked up early to get a good spot, and took my time tacking up and so on.
Ron then proceeded to be a complete pain for me to get on... dancing round the trailer ramp, then round the front of my truck, then round the field master's wagon ramp. Finally I climbed onto a picnic table and my friend tried to hold him while I got on. No sooner had I landed in the saddle than Ron shot backwards nearly uprooting 20stone of friend!!
The forestry here is in a small bowl on the side of the moors, and provides a nice sheltered day's hunting when we are very limited due to a combination of shooting interests and freezing weather.
We left the carpark after the huntsman had thank himself for the meet, then remembered to thank everyone else and make the usual statement about hunting within the law. Our trail layers for the day were the coincidentally named A. Foxall and his fiancée C Reynard. (A. is known by various names, including Charlie, and (in a very yorkshire accent) "Foxall as 'as a pulse!", "Foxall of a clue" - but he is very well liked really ).
From the car park we went straight up the main drag of the forestry tracks, whilst hounds were put into the undergrowth on the southern side of the bowl. The field followed on the same route after a short while. It was slow going as we made our way up the slope on frozen tracks and over the remnants of the last forestry workings. We crossed the main drag track a little while later and hounds picked up one of the trails, but weren't certain of it and stopped speaking fairly quickly. The field crossed over onto the northern side of the bowl, taking one of the lateral tracks about 2 thirds of the way up the height of the forestry.
A momentary pause for hip flasks and to listen to the hounds allowed me to let OH know where we were (as he was joining us late, on foot, following a morning instructing British Military Fitness in York). Just as I put the phone away the hounds started speaking. My first instinct was that it was wrong, but the huntsman let them carry on. The field then set off at a great lick along the track, heading back down hill gently. I started off at the back of the field, just due to having been chatting to someone on a young horse. By the time we reached the far end of the track I was up at the front, with Ron and the field master's horse arguing about pulling up! Fortunately Eric is used to this occurrence!
Once we could pull up, the rest of the field caught up and we stood in a cloud of steaming horse, in a now silent forest. The 1st and 2nd whips appeared a few moments later saying that Charlie had been "caught" almost 30 yards from the car park, about 200m (vertically!) below us! Whilst the huntsman gathered up and brought the hounds back up the hill, we took advantage of the break to try a few hipflasks, catch our breath, and catch up with the gossip.
OH appeared on foot in the midst of the break, having run straight up the hill. He'd left the car just in time to see Charlie being licked half to death by the hounds! The huntsman had appeared a moment later without his horse! He'd left the wonderful Jemima snacking on a bush some 50m up when it got too steep for her to canter down! He found her exactly where she'd been left as he made his way back up.
We spent the next hour or so "mooching about" on the higher levels of the forestry tracks, with the hounds being put in likely looking spots with no success. The cloud level had dropped since we left the meet, and the temperature had dropped due to a rising northerly wind, so we dropped down a level to take advantage of the shelter of the trees.
I left shortly after this as I had to get Ron home and turned round in time for me to get home to receive guests, OH stayed out until the bitter end of the day though. He said that hounds picked up on the other trail shortly after I left, hunting back and forth across the side of the hill, leading the field on a merry chase, eventually catching the soon-to-be Mrs Foxall hiding from the wind against some rocks! OH spent most of the day up with the hunstman, alternately running and riding as the country can be difficult to follow hounds on a horse when you need to be going swiftly in a straight line! Jemima is a wonderful horse, but is far easier to leave in a spot than to persuade to follow on, her stomach definitely rules her mind!
So, not the most interesting day's hunting, but it was wonderful to hear the hounds speaking so well and to see them working so well!
Ron then proceeded to be a complete pain for me to get on... dancing round the trailer ramp, then round the front of my truck, then round the field master's wagon ramp. Finally I climbed onto a picnic table and my friend tried to hold him while I got on. No sooner had I landed in the saddle than Ron shot backwards nearly uprooting 20stone of friend!!
The forestry here is in a small bowl on the side of the moors, and provides a nice sheltered day's hunting when we are very limited due to a combination of shooting interests and freezing weather.
We left the carpark after the huntsman had thank himself for the meet,
then remembered to thank everyone else and make the usual statement about hunting within the law. Our trail layers for the day were the coincidentally named A. Foxall and his fiancée C Reynard. (A. is known by various names, including Charlie, and (in a very yorkshire accent) "Foxall as 'as a pulse!", "Foxall of a clue" - but he is very well liked really ). From the car park we went straight up the main drag of the forestry tracks, whilst hounds were put into the undergrowth on the southern side of the bowl. The field followed on the same route after a short while. It was slow going as we made our way up the slope on frozen tracks and over the remnants of the last forestry workings. We crossed the main drag track a little while later and hounds picked up one of the trails, but weren't certain of it and stopped speaking fairly quickly. The field crossed over onto the northern side of the bowl, taking one of the lateral tracks about 2 thirds of the way up the height of the forestry.
A momentary pause for hip flasks and to listen to the hounds allowed me to let OH know where we were (as he was joining us late, on foot, following a morning instructing British Military Fitness in York). Just as I put the phone away the hounds started speaking. My first instinct was that it was wrong, but the huntsman let them carry on. The field then set off at a great lick along the track, heading back down hill gently. I started off at the back of the field, just due to having been chatting to someone on a young horse. By the time we reached the far end of the track I was up at the front, with Ron and the field master's horse arguing about pulling up! Fortunately Eric is used to this occurrence!
Once we could pull up, the rest of the field caught up and we stood in a cloud of steaming horse, in a now silent forest. The 1st and 2nd whips appeared a few moments later saying that Charlie had been "caught" almost 30 yards from the car park, about 200m (vertically!) below us! Whilst the huntsman gathered up and brought the hounds back up the hill, we took advantage of the break to try a few hipflasks, catch our breath, and catch up with the gossip.
OH appeared on foot in the midst of the break, having run straight up the hill. He'd left the car just in time to see Charlie being licked half to death by the hounds! The huntsman had appeared a moment later without his horse! He'd left the wonderful Jemima snacking on a bush some 50m up when it got too steep for her to canter down! He found her exactly where she'd been left as he made his way back up.
We spent the next hour or so "mooching about" on the higher levels of the forestry tracks, with the hounds being put in likely looking spots with no success. The cloud level had dropped since we left the meet, and the temperature had dropped due to a rising northerly wind, so we dropped down a level to take advantage of the shelter of the trees.
I left shortly after this as I had to get Ron home and turned round in time for me to get home to receive guests, OH stayed out until the bitter end of the day though. He said that hounds picked up on the other trail shortly after I left, hunting back and forth across the side of the hill, leading the field on a merry chase, eventually catching the soon-to-be Mrs Foxall hiding from the wind against some rocks! OH spent most of the day up with the hunstman, alternately running and riding as the country can be difficult to follow hounds on a horse when you need to be going swiftly in a straight line! Jemima is a wonderful horse, but is far easier to leave in a spot than to persuade to follow on, her stomach definitely rules her mind!
So, not the most interesting day's hunting, but it was wonderful to hear the hounds speaking so well and to see them working so well!
