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Report from the Field Manor Farm, Wateringbury Well we had a good time on Sunday. A lovely warm sunny day, great for riders, although not ideal scenting conditions for the hounds. Our host at Manor Farm made everyone most welcome with mulled wine and hot sausage rolls at the meet which were well received especially by Charlotte who did very good impressions of a hamster. This was followed by a stirrup cup at the end of the first line. Yes, Sunday was a rather liquid affair. The second line wasn't without incident. Some of us became detached while helping one of the visitors who had a problem with her horse. We were 'bombing' along trying to make up lost ground when we nearly plunged into the back of the field who had made an abrupt halt. Hounds Checking? Lost the line? No! Brian Stern's spectacles had fallen off! Everyone tried to keep their horses motionless while Steve Leang and a few others rooted around in the bracken. Amazingly someone (the eagle eyed Steve) spotted them; thankfully they were unbroken. Poor Brian, it wasn't his day. At the end of the line his horse decided to roll and dropped onto it's knees despite onlookers making rather discouraging noises. It was one of those difficult decisions: when caught off guard, do you get off or try to rescue the situation. You end up trying to do both unsuccessfully. In this case poor Brian left it just too late to dismount and as he swung his leg over to get off, his horse took heed of the noise and stood up flipping Brian over onto his back on the floor. The third line was great. I knew the country well, it's quite trappy and you need to keep your wits about you and not loose sight of the horse in front because they can disappear around the corner very quickly. On one particular area you ride down a headland and into what I can only describe as corridor between fields about six foot wide with a horse gate next to a hunt fence, after which you have to turn immediately left through a gap in the fence and onto the edge of a cultivated field. The chap in front of me went through the open gate and straight on into what appeared to be a bridle path. It's not! for after about 20 yards it turns into a bramble thicket. After a kerfuffle he reappeared at the other end. His horse's bridle covered with pieces of hawthorn. His hat askew and face bloody from the brambles. Jolly kind of him actually, as now he's cleared a path it won't be so tricky next season. We finished hunting just after 4pm. It's so nice now the evenings are drawing out; it means we can all enjoy tea and drive home in daylight. A very sociable and thoroughly
enjoyable day. Pauline Holmes |