quot;Don’t Fence Me In” might have been the theme song for the Genesee Valley Hunt on Nov.4. Fence issues figured throughout the day, which began with one of the hunt’s best runs on a very tricky red fox and ended with one of its most unusual point-to-points, in which more horses finished than started.

To begin the morning hunt, Huntsman and MFH Marion Thorne drew through the Oneida Woods, headed west; hounds opened in the Sugarbush lot and worked their fox through the trees along the Genesee River. Their first quarry gave them the slip, but they jumped another at the riverbank. He was evidently far from home for he quickly left the river and shot uphill a mile east to Greg O’Connell’s property.

He was possibly planning to cross Rt. 39, but traffic turned him, and he led his pursuers north through the Stonehouse Lot to the gate across Rt. 39 from Leg Up Stables. Here the cheeky fellow hid in the hedgerow, throwing the hounds across the road without risking his own furry little neck. The pack wouldn’t give up and circled back to his side of the road, starting him up again.

Now the fence-loving pilot crossed the road and onto the grounds of Leg Up Stables, with its many lesson rings and turn-outs. The fences and paddocks temporarily stymied some of the hard-working hounds, but they eventually found their way over, under, and around, and kept after Reynard, who led them next into a pasture full of young horses. Fortunately, the hunt photographer was on hand to open the gate for the staff and ever-diminishing field, who burst through the surprised herd, jumping out the south side into Susan Lockhart’s property hard on the heels of the hounds.

Now the hardy fox headed south by Seth Scofield’s new home, then east through Creagans’ and Avedisians’ fields, dragging the hounds through four more fence lines. This fencing allowed the dedicated pack to keep its line, so Mr. Tricky ducked into a copse of wet woods that slowed them down somewhat while he slidout the other side and past O’Maras’ barn, into another pasture, hugging the fence line again, and went into hiding near their creek.

Out of the woods came the hounds, and several pushed the sneaky fellow across Country Club Road north to Mike’s Woods. In the meantime, nearly six couple wriggled under a gate just downwind of the line, trapping themselves in a paddock with no exit in the direction they wanted to go. Frantic to go on, and hearing the huntsman gallop up on the road, they wouldn’t consider turning around until a car follower hastened to open the gate. At that point, they saw what they had to do and streamed out in a body toward their fox and huntsman.

Now an hour and a half into the run, the fence-a-lot fox took them to Foggy Bottom Farm, yet another property criss-crossed with fences to contain its breeding stock. At long last, with some hounds trapped again and others unable to figure out which way he went, staff called off the pack and Thorne blew home. Before they could start for kennels, however, they had to dismount and throw some hounds over the fences–the cunning fellow had left his legacy even after he disappeared.


Diverging Opinions
With the thrill of a long and eventful hunt still on their minds, 15 riders prepared for the 121st running of Genesee Valley Hunt’s old-fashioned point-to-point. On fresh horses, they met at Roscommon Farm and were led across Rt. 39 to the middle of the south Oneida pasture–an area that many had only recently galloped through in the opposite direction after the fox.

MFH Austin Wadsworth gave them their instructions, with the locations of three checkpoints and the finish line, and dropped the flag. Off they went–in four different directions! A couple headed west to the railroad bed; one took the straight but hilly route through the Oneida Woods; a few skirted the woods and navigated the chest-high bog at the lower end of Oneida Springs; and several took a bead on the ancient oaks at the top of the Oneida then turned north and followed their hoof prints from the morning into the Stonehouse Lot and on to Rochester Stables.

The largest group, including Huntsman Thorne on Kansas City, whippers-in Travis Thorne on Dodger and Kathleen Hart on Briggs, relative newcomer Carrie Wehle on Circular Time, veterans Sharon Presutti on Miami Thunder and Doug Hart on QD, jumped around the Rochester stables, through the cross-country course on Minors’ farm, and into Thornes’ pasture.

As the racers jumped out on the far side of the pasture, two horses and a pony followed them out over the coop. “I didn’t expect them to do that–they stay in when we hunt through there,” said Thorne. Boldly on the other side, they continued to the pipeline, riders, horses and riderless horses, as the most direct route to the second checkpoint near the Granger Farm.

As the teeming mass spied the checkpoint and the coop next to it, they could not believe their eyes to see Billy Lloyd on Fantine jumping the coop directly at them, with Celeste Grace, on Genny Light, on the far side advising Lloyd in a loud voice “No, don’t do it!” Lloyd, who was afraid of being disqualified for passing the checkpoint on the wrong side, whipped Fantine around and re-jumped the coop just in front of the madding crowd bearing down on him, then led them on to the barway into the Big Woods field.


Taking Over
By this time, two of the loose horses had thought better of this unorthodox endeavor and pulled themselves up, but one stout fellow, an Irish hunter belonging to Doug Swanson, was loathe to miss the fun and continued with the rest.

Emerging on the other side of the dip south of the Big Woods, Marion Thorne was in front but knew her three-quarter-bred was no match for the Thoroughbreds who were cruising behind her, taking advantage of her knowledge of the country. She was hoping they would make a mistake and miss the open gate near the last checkpoint.

No such luck for Marion as Wehle’s Circular Time, who had been competing in the hunt race series all fall, threw it into high gear and opened up a solid lead coming around the third checkpoint. Lloyd, still on his adrenaline high from his death-defying jumping exhibition, was hot on her heels, but settled for his second second-placed finish in two years. Thorne and Kansas City edged out Kathleen Hart on Briggs for third, with Swanson’s Roper, the independent, coming in seventh.

Wehle, in her third point-to-point, finished in 18:25 and received the Cary Cup, presented by Thea Lango Killeen in her 54th year of making the presentation, at the reception at the Homestead. Upon receiving the Cup, Wehle quipped, “Having to pull up for the loose horses to jump out in front of me probably gave my horse the breather she needed!”


New Horizons For Rombout Hunt
A dozen members ventured northwest of Hyde Park, N.Y., on Oct. 26 for a second mid-week meet to test the coverts in Clermont, N.Y. It was the second time Rombout hunted the newly acquired country bordering the Rojan Creek in southern Columbia County and, as in 2005, the conditions were challenging.

Riders met at the home of Diane O’Neal, an ardent local land conservationist. MFH Suzie Cannavino hacked north on Buckwheat Road with a pack of steady hounds to the Stonington property. Cannavino has been hunting the hounds since the retirement of professional huntsman Vincent Tartaglia earlier this year.

Cannavino cast hounds in a small wooded lot, adjacent to standing corn, where the wind whistled through the dry crop waiting to be harvested. After this drew blank, we crossed Buckwheat and headed along George and Marsha Davis’, who have allowed the placement of trails on their land in order to connect to O’Neal’s.

Here, we dropped down toward the Rojan, and hounds drew a cornfield and wooded bank on the opposite side moving south. We came upon the Bowery, an estate with a Dutch manor house built in the 1600s. Hounds moved past kennels housing Irish wolf-hounds and through beautiful barnyards and pastures.

Continuing south, hounds cast themselves along the banks of the Rojan and west through corn to Larry Saulpaugh’s. These vast cornfields cover acres and acres of fertile land in this floodplain. Moving through Saulpaugh’s, hounds brightened, and Rombout Spirit ’00 headed into the tip of the standing corn. At one point, Rombout Actor ’99 came out with great determination and then some hounds followed as hounds opened in the corn and were immediately honored. Wild, wooded virgin banks connect terraced fields of corn flanking the Rojan.

The field watched and listened until several tally-hoed watching a small coyote break cover and move swiftly up the rugged bank to another standing corn lot. These hounds hunted this corn for well over an hour. The field was repositioned several times for the best vantage point, galloping along wide-open thoroughfares used to move harvesting equipment. A whipper-in on the dense side viewed three times, and the fieldmaster watched the coyote as it passed almost immediately behind the huntsman.

Finally, the coyote was getting pressed and crossed Commons Road. While we have permission to follow, trails have not yet been developed, and the field was dismissed as the huntsman went in to blow for hounds. The field had a lovely hack back, galloping along the flat, rolling fields with level, firm footing. The territory differs dramatically from the hilly, wooded and rocky terrain in our south country. All members agreed that the day could not have gone better.

Rombout Hunt’s formal season opened on Oct. 8 with between 45 and 50 riders meeting at MFH Cannavino’s Gone Away Farm in Hyde Park. Hounds found almost immediately, but the quarry ran across land that had not been hunted in several years.

The country was rough with dense coverts and limited access. It was a day full of galloping along paved roads to try to stay with hounds. It ended in a wooded stand with a pack of coyotes running hounds in circles.

Members and landowners retired to the new Rombout kennels for a catered formal breakfast and tour of the recently completed facility, where an engraved plaque was installed to recognize and honor Vincent Tartaglia’s contribution to the move. Vincent retired in mid-September.

“Taking up the horn was a natural thing for me after whipping-in and mentoring under Vincent for 25 years,” Cannavino said. “I love watching the hounds work. I can tell as soon as they start to be interested, and it’s thrilling. I have some very good staff and with the return of Michael Sersching as kennelman, it has allowed us to continue.”    Donna Ross


A Guest Takes Over
Sept. 30 turned into a day to be remembered by all who gathered at the old Iron Bridge fixture in Landrum, N.C. The morning, with a clear sky and mid 50s temperature, whispered the chance of a good hunt. This Tryon Hounds fixture holds a variety of game from gray foxes to coyotes, so hopes were high.

Guest professional huntsman Kurt Krucke from Flat Branch Foxhounds (S.C.), with the permission of Edgar Cato, MFH of Flat Branch, brought nine couple of his finest hounds to the meet. Chip Anderson, professional huntsman for Tryon, grounded because of two broken arms, made sure, the day before, that Kurt was familiar with the territory and primed for an exciting day.

Kurt cast his hounds in an area of low scrub and vast fields along the Pacolet River. The hounds worked the cover diligently, but didn’t pick up any game. He moved on into a wooded ravine. While the hounds worked this cover, Chip, road whip Wes Sweet, and Flat Branch whipper-in Clare Buchanan followed the sound of Kurt’s horn along the road to the north. Whips on horseback watched from both sides of the cover and the south side along the river.

I’ve heard it said, “You can keep a huntsman out of the saddle due to injury, but you can’t keep a good one from hunting.” Anderson proved this to be true with the first view of the day. He arrived with Wes and Clare at the top of a Thanksgiving Hill, a beautiful meadow on Slater property. Chip saw a handsome, almost black coyote standing not 25 yards from him. Stunned, he watched. The coyote stood still, listened to the distant clatter of horses, then collected his wits and quickly trotted off. He crossed the road and disappeared down an embankment into deep woods.

A loud “tally-ho” from Chip and the hounds were swiftly brought forward. They struck the line quick, moved as a unit through the meadow on one side of the road, across it, and into the cover on the other side. Hot on the scent of the viewed game, the hounds disappeared. Whips scattered to cover the various directions the coyote might go.

Whipper-in Reed McNutt raced to the bottom on the east side, and I galloped to the bottom on the west. Kurt, MFH Kerry Holmberg and MFH Dean McKinney, who had been to the south in the ravine when the hounds struck, flashed down the middle. The horn and huntsman’s voice cheered on the hounds. The cry of a pack at full throttle spurred on the coyote.

The fields of riders led by fieldmaster Sara Holmberg and MFH Louise Hughston followed, grins on their faces. The pack broke across a large pasture, moving as one. The sound of their voices echoed down the valley.

Once again, Chip was in the right place. Afforded one of the prettiest views in the world, he watched as the coyote turned and came up the Green Valley of Gallagher’s bottom, the hounds running in full cry not 50 yards off the coyote’s brush. They coursed through the paddocks and up the steep hillsides, popping out onto and over the same road at Fox Central. (This is an area known for fox viewings, hence its name.) It may have to be changed to Game Grand Central.

Chip and Clare cheered the pack on as they came into view. I charged up the drive and came to a screeching halt as the back hounds began to cross in front of me. The hard beat of hooves approached from behind, and Dean McKinney came blasting past. Off we went. I followed him up the drive and across the road. Chip pointed the way the coyote had gone.

Kurt, Kerry and Dean followed the hounds, while Reed McNutt took off west toward Fagan’s Crossing, and I went east to cover Slater’s fields. The coyote raced through the woods, the hounds hot on his heels. The hounds were screaming now. I listened from afar, hoped he’d turn my way. No such luck. He crossed the Pacolet River with hounds close behind. Kurt, the field and the whips forged the water and continued the pursuit.

With the morning sun now fully up, the heat of the September morn was taking its toll on riders, horses, and hounds alike. The coyote put some distance between himself and the pack. The hounds had a loss and checked at the Fairview Lake. They decided not to re-cast. Kurt began to horn them in. Dean and Reed helped gather hounds. Chip and gang raced by car to the far side of Fairview Farms to help.

The run, from beginning to end, lasted for almost an hour. At the speed everyone had to go, it was probably a good thing it ended when it did. Horses were lathered, riders were hot, and Kurt’s hounds had performed spectacularly.

Of the nine couple that started the chase, only two couple weren’t there at the end. I looked for them on the north side of the river. They rejoined the pack as we hacked back to the meet. A few of our members had prepared a surprise tailgate breakfast. All gathered around and relived over and over the thrills of the hunt. Chip, being a true sportsman, congratulated Kurt, declared it to have been one of the finest hunts ever. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.    Deborah Bundy