goodhors
Sep. 30, 2007, 11:36 AM
I found the following in a post on another group. Sounded like Upperville was THE place to be, with a wonderful turnout of the Coaching folks on exhibit. Lovely bit of writing by the author of the article. Made a great picture in my mind. I sure like hearing the sound of 16 hooves going along, with a little Coach horn melody to lighten your sprits.
Thanks to Carla for her posting.
This was posted yesterday on Foxhunters Online re: the 2007 Coaching Event
in Upperville, VA. I thought everyone here would enjoy it. It was
unsigned.--Carla in TN
Someday, I hope to have a carriage. When I am old and
grey and my bones too broken to mount my hunters on
cold frosty mornings....perhaps I shall have instead
a sassy little cob that I can hitch to a modest cart
and off he will smartly trot, carrying me down dirt
lanes and across grassy fields, over many happy miles
and adventures or so I plan....while in the meantime,
I have mornings such as today's to inspire me.
The 2007 Coaching Event at Upperville was beyond
compare. The air was crystal clear, sparkling if you
will, with the freshness of an early fall morning.
Foliage was tinged with hints of golds and oranges and
scarlets, and a chilly breeze whipped the high grasses
in the open fields surrounding the Salem showgrounds
where nearly thirty four-in-hands were gathered in a
celebration of times gone by, a vivid look into the
past and a reminder of what life was like decades ago,
when carriages ruled the roadways.
One by one the gleaming carriages pulled forward on
the grassy center to await their turn to cross Rt. 50
and enter the Upperville showgrounds. Teams of four,
perfectly matched bays, greys and chestnuts, not to
mention a team of black and white spotted geldings or
the adorable fuzzy buckskin coloured Fjord ponies who
had traveled the furthest to the carriage meet, took
their place in line.
Sheer elegance oozed from a team of long-legged black
Dutch geldings, all trimmed with high white stockings
and blazes, and the four Shires from Aryshire Farm
were magnificent in their height and symmetry.
Ladies were adorned in every hat imaginable, sporting
tweed or plaid blankets for warmth. The gentlemen
drivers were equally immaculate in their suits and
bowlers or top hats, whips at hand as they casually
waited their turn, and of course each carriage had at
least one well dressed footman to head the horses.
As each team was called they surged forward, the
horses eager to move off in the brisk air. More than
one waiting team needed a footman to head them while
they paused, and some needed the quiet hand of a groom
to calm a nervous wheeler. Others nearly reared with
excitement when their turn came, and the collective
grace that flowed between a team of four prancing
powerhouses of horses was thrilling to see.
After crossing Rt. 50, each carriage paraded down the
narrow avenue in front of the grandstand, accompanied
by applause from an appreciative crowd as a brief
description of the carriage was made. Then they lined
up again before returning to Rt. 50 where they turned
right and then left onto Willisville Rd. to begin
their morning's jaunt.
Sixteen hooves on the pavement as each carriage
clattered onto the road, sixteen hooves to beat a
rhythm, to sear a song in your soul of iron against
asphalt, sixteen hooves and the incredibly joyous
music that swelled and filled your senses with a sound
that could not be denied, could not fail to touch the
heart of any horseman, sixteen hooves and legs
striking forward in complete unison as they trotted
off, off into the distance and into their private
world of yesteryear.
A world where carriages ruled the roadways.
Thanks to Carla for her posting.
This was posted yesterday on Foxhunters Online re: the 2007 Coaching Event
in Upperville, VA. I thought everyone here would enjoy it. It was
unsigned.--Carla in TN
Someday, I hope to have a carriage. When I am old and
grey and my bones too broken to mount my hunters on
cold frosty mornings....perhaps I shall have instead
a sassy little cob that I can hitch to a modest cart
and off he will smartly trot, carrying me down dirt
lanes and across grassy fields, over many happy miles
and adventures or so I plan....while in the meantime,
I have mornings such as today's to inspire me.
The 2007 Coaching Event at Upperville was beyond
compare. The air was crystal clear, sparkling if you
will, with the freshness of an early fall morning.
Foliage was tinged with hints of golds and oranges and
scarlets, and a chilly breeze whipped the high grasses
in the open fields surrounding the Salem showgrounds
where nearly thirty four-in-hands were gathered in a
celebration of times gone by, a vivid look into the
past and a reminder of what life was like decades ago,
when carriages ruled the roadways.
One by one the gleaming carriages pulled forward on
the grassy center to await their turn to cross Rt. 50
and enter the Upperville showgrounds. Teams of four,
perfectly matched bays, greys and chestnuts, not to
mention a team of black and white spotted geldings or
the adorable fuzzy buckskin coloured Fjord ponies who
had traveled the furthest to the carriage meet, took
their place in line.
Sheer elegance oozed from a team of long-legged black
Dutch geldings, all trimmed with high white stockings
and blazes, and the four Shires from Aryshire Farm
were magnificent in their height and symmetry.
Ladies were adorned in every hat imaginable, sporting
tweed or plaid blankets for warmth. The gentlemen
drivers were equally immaculate in their suits and
bowlers or top hats, whips at hand as they casually
waited their turn, and of course each carriage had at
least one well dressed footman to head the horses.
As each team was called they surged forward, the
horses eager to move off in the brisk air. More than
one waiting team needed a footman to head them while
they paused, and some needed the quiet hand of a groom
to calm a nervous wheeler. Others nearly reared with
excitement when their turn came, and the collective
grace that flowed between a team of four prancing
powerhouses of horses was thrilling to see.
After crossing Rt. 50, each carriage paraded down the
narrow avenue in front of the grandstand, accompanied
by applause from an appreciative crowd as a brief
description of the carriage was made. Then they lined
up again before returning to Rt. 50 where they turned
right and then left onto Willisville Rd. to begin
their morning's jaunt.
Sixteen hooves on the pavement as each carriage
clattered onto the road, sixteen hooves to beat a
rhythm, to sear a song in your soul of iron against
asphalt, sixteen hooves and the incredibly joyous
music that swelled and filled your senses with a sound
that could not be denied, could not fail to touch the
heart of any horseman, sixteen hooves and legs
striking forward in complete unison as they trotted
off, off into the distance and into their private
world of yesteryear.
A world where carriages ruled the roadways.