Strong roots in the past have helped this Virginia hunt thrive for a century.

It’s somehow poetic that a 100-year storm buried the Virginia countryside under 3 feet of snow during Casanova Hunt’s 100th anniversary season this winter.

It was cold, by South Florida standards, at 45 degrees a little after 6 a.m. on Jan. 2, when the rigs bringing the horses and riders in to the Palm Beach Hounds Quailands territory started to arrive to begin the new season.

A day spent following the hounds and wild stag—at a trot—with one of France’s most historic hunts turns into the experience of a lifetime.

He is tall, elegant and French. His hair is the color of dark chocolate, and his large eyes are framed with a thick set of luscious lashes. He’s well groomed and wears the finest leather accessories that money can buy. He’s standing with his friends by the side of a white horse lorry, and I detect a hint of restlessness in his charming demeanor as I walk toward him.

Longtime huntsmen recall their most memorable days in the field.

No day of foxhunting is complete without a round of good stories told at the hunt breakfast. And the old adage, “there are no bad days hunting,” is one of the reasons that foxhunters keep going back for more. But some days stand out, even to those who live their lives in the hunt field.

Brazos Valley Hunt (Texas) MFH and huntsman Sandy Dixon, who hunts primarily American hounds, readily recalled a day last year that was filled with quarry.

One hunt member takes it upon herself to answer some puzzling physics problems in the hunt field.

Have you ever ended a hunt feeling so proud of yourself because you rode beautifully and deduced what was happening during the entire run?

Or have you dismounted, kneeled—kissed the ground—and marveled that you survived in spite of your incompetence?