JenHunt
Well-Known Member
Today we met on the tops of the North York Moors, in a field just off Weathercote Lane, one of our most beautiful bits of country. The area is known as Murton, and is a series of very steep sided gills, that appear on a map to roughly resemble a handprint.
I parked halfway up the western bank of the moors (as I'm chicken and won't tow up it as it is (according to OS) "steeper than 1 in 5"
and single track) and I was just getting on when our former master, his grooms daughter (14yo, 8st wet through and riding his 17hh hunter!) and another small kid came trotting up the road.
As we emerged out of the shelter of the woods the fog closed in on us and we were left jog-trotting through an almost completely blank scenery. From the brow of the hill it was nearly 2 miles to the meet, but as we turned down the last bit the fog was starting to lift, and other riders had caught up with us. We turned off the lane into a seemingly random field and were immediately met with a very generous meet.
We had a leisurely meet, waiting for the fog to lift. Eventually the huntsman blew for the off and must have blown the last of the fog away as the sun broke through and burnt the last of it off. We set off parallel to Weathercote Lane on a spit of land between the road and a very steep sided gill. Hounds dropped down into the scrub and were casting about as they moved downwards. We too dropped off the edge soon after, barely out of a walk through very dense blackthorn, following a rocky sheep track down to the bottom of the gill.
On reaching the bottom we picked up a keepers track and turned to follow the gill upwards, allowing horses to let off some steam. Before we made up much ground we were stopped and hounds and huntsman came back past us, heading down the gill again, then swinging left and up another branch of this narrow set of valleys. Eventually we came up onto the tops again, now some distance from the meet. This area is lovely sandy soil and always seems to make good going, or would if it hadn't been ploughed. It is interspersed with rough stone walls which are now mainly less than 2 foot 6, and make for some entertainment for the field.
We covered a few fields popping little walls, holding up for hounds to cast about, taking in the wonderful late winter (or early spring?) sunshine, then moving on again. In a queue for one wall my darling horse decided he'd had enough of waiting his turn, launched himself and then yanked his head down trying to snatch the reins from me as I tried to stop him launching himself into/over someone else. In the process of this my back/shoulders got wrenched and I was really quite sore. I continued a little while in the hope it would ease off, and the stationary period that followed did help somewhat, but I decided to call it a day.
At the same point, my friends horse got bored of waiting about and threw himself about, eventually landing on his backside and frightening himself a little. She climbed back on once he was upright and she'd made sure he was ok, but also called it a day at that point. We were joined by OH (who was running) and another friend who was on a short day. We had a reasonably lengthy hack back to the boxes in the sunshine, during which time I had eased off a bit but it took until I was sorting out my vehicle to come home from the stables that my neck went crack and it stopped hurting!
I parked halfway up the western bank of the moors (as I'm chicken and won't tow up it as it is (according to OS) "steeper than 1 in 5"
and single track) and I was just getting on when our former master, his grooms daughter (14yo, 8st wet through and riding his 17hh hunter!) and another small kid came trotting up the road. As we emerged out of the shelter of the woods the fog closed in on us and we were left jog-trotting through an almost completely blank scenery. From the brow of the hill it was nearly 2 miles to the meet, but as we turned down the last bit the fog was starting to lift, and other riders had caught up with us. We turned off the lane into a seemingly random field and were immediately met with a very generous meet.
We had a leisurely meet, waiting for the fog to lift. Eventually the huntsman blew for the off and must have blown the last of the fog away as the sun broke through and burnt the last of it off. We set off parallel to Weathercote Lane on a spit of land between the road and a very steep sided gill. Hounds dropped down into the scrub and were casting about as they moved downwards. We too dropped off the edge soon after, barely out of a walk through very dense blackthorn, following a rocky sheep track down to the bottom of the gill.
On reaching the bottom we picked up a keepers track and turned to follow the gill upwards, allowing horses to let off some steam. Before we made up much ground we were stopped and hounds and huntsman came back past us, heading down the gill again, then swinging left and up another branch of this narrow set of valleys. Eventually we came up onto the tops again, now some distance from the meet. This area is lovely sandy soil and always seems to make good going, or would if it hadn't been ploughed. It is interspersed with rough stone walls which are now mainly less than 2 foot 6, and make for some entertainment for the field.
We covered a few fields popping little walls, holding up for hounds to cast about, taking in the wonderful late winter (or early spring?) sunshine, then moving on again. In a queue for one wall my darling horse decided he'd had enough of waiting his turn, launched himself and then yanked his head down trying to snatch the reins from me as I tried to stop him launching himself into/over someone else. In the process of this my back/shoulders got wrenched and I was really quite sore. I continued a little while in the hope it would ease off, and the stationary period that followed did help somewhat, but I decided to call it a day.
At the same point, my friends horse got bored of waiting about and threw himself about, eventually landing on his backside and frightening himself a little. She climbed back on once he was upright and she'd made sure he was ok, but also called it a day at that point. We were joined by OH (who was running) and another friend who was on a short day. We had a reasonably lengthy hack back to the boxes in the sunshine, during which time I had eased off a bit but it took until I was sorting out my vehicle to come home from the stables that my neck went crack and it stopped hurting!