Fox hunting - a personal impression (From Gazette & Herald)

Fox hunting - a personal impression

Every season brings something to look forward to, no matter how cold the days or long the nights, and, as summer ends, I often find a project to keep me busy during the winter months.

I have done potholing, navigation lessons, had a go at A-level French, and learnt to ski on dry ski slopes.

This winter was going to be the last season before fox hunting is finally banned. I had last ridden with a hunt over 30 years ago - when I was young and fit and not bothered about a bad back. I only went a few times.

Then family responsibilities, limited income and other pursuits brought my interest in horses to an abrupt end. I had enjoyed the experience of fox hunting then, and now I wanted to remember what it was like. So, I decided to see if I could learn to ride to the right standard again, and have another go before it was too late.

Riding schools are often very laid back, and one learns slowly, and I was worried I might not progress fast enough. However, Alison Brown's Friar Hill Riding School at Sinnington was brilliant - each session was an hour of intensive training, with very little rest, and, after 12 weekly lessons, I thought I was ready.

Like all the best adventure sports, there is an element of risk and danger, which makes it all the more exciting and worthwhile. So, I was rather apprehensive when at last I met the Saltersgate Farmers' hunt a few weeks ago.

The start was highly civilised, with punch, pastries and buns served to followers on foot and riders, smartly dressed in red or black coats sitting on immaculately groomed horses with plaited manes and varnished hoofs, while children helped and played, and the hounds sniffed around looking for crumbs. It was like a classic scene from Country Life.

Then we moved off, and the first fox was spotted. Very soon, we passed through a gate into some forestry land north of Pickering, and then plunged down a steep bank at least 20 feet high. It was the first of many thrills. You had to keep your nerve, as well as your balance, as the horse slid gracefully down the slope to the forestry road below.

The Saltersgate hunt is supposed to be one which doesn't do much jumping. All of a sudden, the hounds took off and I found myself not far behind the master, galloping along a very narrow overgrown trail, with thin branches and undergrowth coming at me from all sides, and, further on, two large fallen trees looming in front. There was no time or room to stop. We just had to jump.

Then there was another long trail, with another fallen tree, which we had to duck under. We rode backwards and forwards along this at least three times. There were some followers in cars watching for us at one end of this trail, and every time we met them, they told us they had seen the fox going the other way!

For a beginner, the riding was strenuous and tiring. As the afternoon wore on, I was aware that my riding technique was getting worse. There was the last and longest canter, which seemed to go on for miles. It was a truly exhilarating ride, but it left me feeling sore and aching all over. I was glad to find that I was not the only rider with a bad back.

I stayed to the end without mishap. The hounds lay down, looking exhausted. Like all dogs, they wanted attention, and came to have their heads patted. They are surprisingly friendly creatures.

So, what made the day such a wonderful experience? It certainly wasn't the blood. We didn't catch a fox, and anyone who wants to see blood is likely to see more of it if they go shooting or fishing than they ever will on a fox hunt. There is nothing very macho about riding a horse - if it's power that turns you on, you can get more speed out of a motorbike.

While we may admire and respect the cunning and natural beauty of foxes, farmers see hunting as an important way of controlling a serious pest - but I was only along for the ride.

For me, fox hunting is an adventure sport which is all about animals. The master cannot know where to cast the hounds, unless he understands the ways of the fox. To a beginner, nearly all the hounds look the same, but the master and the whippers-in know them all by name.

The hunt has the landowners' agreement to gallop freely over the countryside. No animal loves the chase more than the horse - once they're off, it is difficult to make them stop or slow down. The horse is not a machine or a vehicle, but a fellow creature with a character and mind of her own. Every now and again, she will turn her head and look at the rider out of her big dark eye - it's a way of asking for a friendly pat on the neck. There is a sense of being close to nature.

You won't enjoy hunting unless you like the English countryside. You can't enjoy hunting unless you love animals.

Updated: 16:23 Wednesday, March 26, 2003