Hunting Diary: Bicester with Whaddon Chase Joint Meet

Two meets and what a contrast! On Tuesday I had a day off in lieu, so headed up to the edge of the Preselis for a midweek outing with the Tivyside. By the time I got there I had a message from the MFH to say that it would be a foot day. I had intentions of saying hello, handing over some gin for an upcoming raffle, and then taking Bluey for a hack around the roads, but I found the secretary after sending some desperate “where on earth are hounds?” messages, and she sent me up a bridlepath and to the huntsman.


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Hunting Diary: Balls of Steel

So here we are at week four of the season, fourth time out side saddle, and home with four shoes in place. In sharp contrast to last week yesterday was my most local meet, in an area that I have hacked to in the past. To save “horse miles” we boxed Bluey to my grandparents’ farm about a mile away and I hacked from there. Parking at the meet was restricted by the Eisteddfod, which for those who don’t know, is a day of competitions involving singing, reciting, writing, and sometimes dancing. ¬†One of the most traumatic memories of my school days (and that is saying something) is winning the English “Chair” for creative writing and having to stand in front of my peers wearing a purple velvet cloak while a sword was almost- but-not-quite drawn over my head (and the heads of those who had won the two “Crowns” and the Welsh “Chair”) and the Head Boy shouted for peace.

Enough of that, let’s get on with the hunting report.


Using a tractor to get on Bluey. They didn’t do this in Downton Abbey…

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