Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The Day That Changed My Life



It really was just meant to be a fun weekend in September 2007 with my sister Jann, good friend, Bev and our horses. We hauled our horses up to Red Rock Hounds north of Reno, NV to participate in a hunter pace – basically a timed trail ride with some fences to jump enroute.

I had no idea how Preston's and my life would change after that weekend. Actually, Preston had no idea his life was changing until about 4 months later......


Jann and I had recently re-connected with a childhood friend from back east. Lynn Lloyd had been in the Reno area for close to 30 years where she had started the “world-famous” Red Rock Hounds in 1980.


We weren’t sure about the actual hunt part, especially me. I didn’t know how my show hunter would take to the exuberance of the hunt field. But what harm could come from a hunter pace?

Well, none actually, unless you consider the radical 180-degree turn my life took at the end of that 8 mile loop up and over the sandy hills and sage brush and through the meadows and streams of the breathtaking Ross Creek Ranch in the Red Rock valley north of Reno. As we galloped across the finish line we could’ve been winning the Triple Crown for all the smiles we had on our faces and the thrill we felt. No, we didn’t win anything in the hunter pace. But we won something much more important that day; the renewing of an old friendship and the introduction to a stunningly exhilarting sport and a group of people that truly feed my soul and heart.

We did join the hunt the next day and, no, my show hunter didn’t grasp the concept very well – or, to be honest, not at all. But in spite of the whirling dervish of a ride Nathan gave me, I knew I had found something I wanted to pursue.

Imagine the indescribable feeling of being one with your horse as you gallop across the landscape (non-horsepeople, you have no idea what you're missing!) that is wide open and virtually free of human habitation. You mingle with wildlife as you go up and down the hills and valleys. The hounds that accompany you are amazing to watch as they work together to cover every inch of ground with their noses looking for that special scent. There’s the sound of horn that is used by huntsman to communicate to the hounds – one person in complete unison with dozens of hounds. Then there’s the coyote that flirts with the hounds – daring them to spot him or catch his scent. And, if they do – the merry chase is on! The hounds break into full bay in pursuit of the clever coyote until he gets bored with the chase and ducks into a hole or leaps to a high perch to lose his scent to the hounds. The “field” of people and horses follow as closely as possible to the hounds. All the while you are sharing this invigorating experience in the company of your closest friends and family.

At the end of the run we all stop to take a breath. The hounds happily gather around the huntsman with big grinning smiles and lolling tongues. The horses catch their breath and take a cool drink. The humans refresh from the flasks we all carry. The camaraderie between the people, horses, hounds, the wildlife and the beauty of the open space is unsurpassed. We love this sport, the wildlife, the hounds and horses and the land that is so special. We are all conscious of the sensitivity to the balance of nature – always careful to minimize our impact where we hunt. Always respectful to the wildlife whose home we are passing through for the day.


Let me clarify something about the term “hunt”. I often receive quizzical and sometimes disapproving looks when I mention that I am an active fox/coyote hunter. Let me be very clear. The term “hunt” is not to be mistaken for “kill”. Perhaps we should modify the terminology to be “chasing” rather than “hunting” as that is much more descriptive and typical of what the sport entails. We are hunting for a scent and the actual physical presence of a coyote (or fox if in other geographical regions) – not with the intention to kill. So, please do not judge my sport by what your assumptions are. Keep an open mind and I think you will find that fox hunters are a group of people whose goals are very much in unison with environmentalists and animal welfare advocates.

Llynn Lloyd, Master of Red Rock Hounds addresses the Fox Hunting naysayers quite eloquently in a recent interview published in The Chronical of the Horse. When asked "If you could sit down with an anti-hunting representative, what's the one thing about your sport you'd want to try and make them understand?" Lynn replied, "That hunting is actually a huge part of our soul as a human being. In general, no matter how deeply it's buried in the mind, we are hunters. And that the fun thing about mounted hunting is that we have all the fun of the chase without necessarily ending the life of the quarry."
This sport that grabbed me has also drawn in my sister Jann, my husband, Preston and several other friends. We are now a family of fox/coyote hunters.

Preston became "hooked" several months later when we went with Red Rock to a joint meet in Ridgecrest, CA. He went along for the ride without a horse. As we were driving home after a fun-filled 4 days he told me that he didn't want to be standing on the ground any longer. It didn't take me long to find him a great mount in Baxter. Less than 6 weeks later he joined his first hunt.

During the past 2 years we have had the priveledge of hunting on some of the most beautiful land in Nevada and California as well as a memorable trip to the traditional hunting territory of Virginia last year.

We are just starting our 3rd year as members of Red Rock Hounds. At the commencement of our 3rd season I found myself on the ground due to a riding injury several days before Opening Day. It's been a long 6 weeks but next week I should be back in the saddle. I can already feel the wind on my face as we take off in pursuit of the hounds......


Tally Ho!!






Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Horse and Rider Separation Syndrome – I Hate When That Happens

Ahhh…..28 years of exciting marriage for Preston and I. Definitely not boring, not normal (what is “normal”?), not always blissful. But definitely exciting most of the time.

What better way to celebrate the beginning of our 29th year of marriage than to continue the tradition that we started on our 25th – horse camping in this secret little place called Euer Valley just north of Truckee. Extreme quiet. None of the trappings of civilization – no lights, no electricity, barely any running water and certainly no cell phone or email coverage. Just what we were looking forward to after the hectic craziness of the past few weeks.

It was a true Smith-style vacation; Preston, me, 2 horses (Baxter and Smarty), 2 dogs (Bracken and Abby) and 1 cat (Louise). We set up camp in our usual spot in South Meadow Friday evening then went for a quick ride before relaxing around the fire.

Saturday morning we went out for a ride – just a leisurely one because Smarty is still recovering from the injury she had in March. We were cantering slowly along the valley floor when Smarty stumbled to her knees and I catapulted off and landed hard head first on the road. Now, you gotta know, falling off is nothing new to me. You can’t ride horses and not separate company once in awhile. Usually, it’s a jump up, dust off, quick assessment of the body – nope, no broken bones, just some dust and bruises. Hop back on and back to the business of riding.

But, ouch, this one wasn’t a bounce-back kind of fall. First thing I noticed was that I couldn’t breathe – got the wind knocked out of me – but after a few gasps the air gets back in. I still wasn’t inclined to get up after I could breathe again. The meadow was spinning around my head and I had some serious ouches in places I wasn’t sure of yet.

Once I got up I told Preston I think I needed to go to the ER – not usual for me to say that. He wouldn’t let me get back on Smarty to get back to camp so we walked – me in circles some of the time – I was a little directionally challenged. By the time we got back to camp I had a good inclination my collarbone wasn’t quite intact. I couldn’t shut my mouth and my lower jaw was a little shifted to the right. And, I felt a tooth that was a bit jagged – don’t know where the top half went.

Preston put the horses up and got the truck unhooked from the trailer. I couldn’t move my arm without some serious discomfort. Preston asked me if I wanted to take off my helmet. I told him no cause I thought my brains might fall out.

We headed out of the valley….bump, bump, bump, ouch, ouch, ouch up the rutted dirt road. At the ER at Tahoe Forest they got me right in and took xrays of my jaw and clavicle. The best part was the warmed blankets they covered me with – I was so cold!

Yep, a fractured clavicle (collarbone) and slightly dislocated jaw. The jaw would work itself back in place over the next day or so. But the clavicle…..6 weeks in a sling. And, nope, no riding. That really hurts!

After a stop at the drug store for good pain meds we headed back to camp. Preston suggested we might want to break camp and head home but why waste a perfectly good camping trip because of a few bruises and broken bones? We stayed the night.

We had a modified 28th anniversary celebration with cocktails and pain medications. I asked Preston if he thought I was more beautiful at this moment than on our wedding day. He still hasn’t answered that question. Sweet guy, he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

Since I couldn’t climb the little ladder to our gooseneck bed I slept on the table-converted-into-a-bed with the dogs and Louise. Thanks to the pain meds and wine I slept surprisingly well. Until I tried to move the next morning! Who took my 49 year old body and replaced it with a 90 year old one that had just been hit by a train?

I’m now on Day 4 of this latest adventure and you know what? A fractured collarbone $%^&ing hurts! I’ve found it does help to scream “OUCH” at the top of my lungs when a stab of pain hits. If the pain is particularly severe add an expletive of choice – that helps even more. For an even better relief effect let out a good laugh after screaming and yelling.

I can barely move my right arm and can hardly lift anything even with the left. The collarbone is a pretty amazing piece of engineering. It is completely connected to all upper body movements. For example, if I lift something with my left hand the lifting is balanced out by the entire collarbone – yes, including the broken right side. I can brush my teeth, eat, wash my hair and type with my left hand but not much more.

Preston has been a great nurse. He has even been cleaning litter pans – what a guy! He’s even helping me get dressed. I did find that’s he much more experienced at taking bras off then putting them on – today when taking my bra off I found that it was on inside out!

As much as this hurts and as lousy as I feel I know it could've been worse. I'm just grateful that in a few (short?) weeks I'll be back in the saddle!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

A $34k Boost in Funds for the New Shelter


Now that I’ve had a little over a week to recover I wanted to take a few moments to reflect back on FieldHaven’s fundraiser.


The first annual (hopefully) Classics, Cats and Cabernet fundraising event held at FieldHaven on August 29, 2009 was, from all sides, a fabulous success!


We were decidedly nervous about hosting an event of this scale given the lousy economy, the short planning time we had and just the format in general. If we hosted it would they come? Did the community really care enough about FieldHaven to support us? Would people come to spend an evening at FieldHaven?



Our first hurdle was attempting to secure sponsors. And, yes, that was a big hurdle. The board voted on moving forward with an event just a few short months ago in late April. As we quickly discovered, most companies put in their budgets for charitable contributions much earlier in the year. Combined with our poor timing and the general economy, very few had extra funds to sponsor our event. But several companies and individuals were able to dig deep and support FieldHaven. To them we extend our deepest gratitude!



Ticket sales were launched in mid-July. The emails and mailings went out. I waited for the flood of ticket sales. And waited. And waited. Finally, on about the 5th day I thought that Paypal must not be working. So, I bought my own tickets using Paypal. Bing! An email came into the FieldHaven Paypal email box almost immediately. That made my heart sink but we all kept the faith and if you were here you know that between 350 and 400 people showed up on party day so those ticket sales did pick up.


Many new people were introduced to FieldHaven through some great press. The Lincoln News Messenger published an article that really told the story of the new shelter campaign. Several radio interviews, including an interview on Insight at Capital Public Radio and a PR interview with Walt Shaw on KNCI, gave the event even more exposure.


The party was fantastic! What an incredible feeling of love and support we all felt. The attendees braved stifling heat – about 102 - to ogle over the very cool classic cars and wood boat, sip wines, sample some incredible foods, listen to wonderful music and bid on the wide array of auction and raffle items. And, of course, spend time with all our adoptable and sanctuary cats. Even a few kittens came out of their foster homes to charm the party-goers.

The music provided by the very fun group, Brazen Hussies and the Bad Boyz, was absolutely perfect for the setting and format. Even the horses appeared to be rocking out as 2 horses tried to dance with each other over the bars of their paddock causing me to make a mad dash to the barn to break up the equine rumba before a leg could become caught.


The food and wine turned out perfect in spite of some stressful moments in the weeks leading up to the day. We heard great comments from attendees that the variety of wines and different foods was extraordinary. A huge debt of gratitude to my close friend Jane Cozart and caterer George Carreras for coordinating the food offerings. And, to the restaurants and food vendors who served and endured the heat to cook their specialties!


Greg Patton MC’d the day, corralling the audience to bring in some very successful live auction dollars. Greg had some fun with a couple of the unique auction items we had including a sight-seeing Bayou trip and several wine-tasting and tour excursions.


FieldHaven volunteers really stepped up to the challenge and made the day a complete success. Being an inaugural event there were a lot of “loose ends” in spite of all of our best planning. The flood of auction items exceeded our expectations so we were up until the early morning hours of Saturday cataloging and displaying donations. We anticipated a lot of bottled water would be needed but an hour into the event we ran out. In the middle of printing last minute signage the printer cartridges ran out of ink. A volunteer picking up some of the wine found that the store had sold some of our put-aside wine. My cat Louise appeared to have escaped the house in the morning. Every person on the property was helping me search for her – until she was found snoozing in one of auction item boxes in my dining room! All of these challenges were met with a deep breath and a quick plan to take care of the situation. The volunteers in this organization continue to amaze me at how competent, dedicated and caring they are. I am humbled and honored by the very fact that they are part of FieldHaven. This day could not have happened without them.


During the entire day FieldHaven was bursting at the seams with the good will and love of a community who turned out to support a wonderful and worthy cause.


And, at the end of the day each and every one of the FieldHaven kitties was comfortable in their respective beds in the Cat Trailer……….dreaming of the new shelter we will be building someday soon.


Cats, Classics and Cabernet raised nearly $34,000 towards the new shelter fund. Many thanks to our sponsors for their support. Stay tuned for information about Cats, Classic and Cabernet 2010.



You can view photos from the event at
and

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Provence, France - Day 7 - Fitting it all in!

So glad that little bug I had lasted only a day as Friday, our last day in Provence, was packed with plans to fit in as much as we could.

First we re-started Thursday morning as Sarah, Vicky and I went into Goult for a morning walkabout with the kitties. We finally got to speak with Simone, a French cat lover, who we had seen all week but couldn’t talk to. So wonderful that Vicky was able to talk with her and get stories on the various cats about town.

Next, we headed to the last Market Day in Bonnieux . More treasures were found then we were off to wine tasting at Chateau Saint Esteve de Neri , the winery and vineyard of the owners of the mas, Alexandra and Allan Wilson. Allan poured us samples of their wines while engrossing us with stories of making the transition from a British banker to a Provencal vintner and the challenges of international wine sales.

The winery and vineyards were in the country village of Ansouis . Surrounded by lavender and sunflower fields and olive orchards, it was the quintessential Provencal countryside setting – so perfect for our last day in this heavenly piece of the world.

After leaving the winery in our Mercedes bus (the one with the scrape down the right side) with Sue, Sarah and myself on board with Preston driving, we attempted to follow Fran, George, Leann and Paul in the VW to another perfect little restaurant in a perfect little village. But, alas, the bus just couldn’t keep up with the VW and we lost the lead car. What was the name of the town we were going to for lunch? No idea.

We took a casual drive in the general direction of the unknown village. After a few “wrong” turns and few photo-op stops near the sunflower fields in full bloom we came to a(nother) darling village; Cucuron. This looked like a good candidate for a very Provencal lunch.
Preston started heading down a street when I saw a sign that I interpreted as “no trucks”. Preston didn’t heed my warning – we’re in a bus not a truck. OK but don’t say I didn’t tell you.
Less than a minute later our little bus was shoe-horned between ancient stone buildings with the street just in front of us narrowing even more. In centuries past the street could accommodate a horse drawn wagon. But in the 21st Century? This was definitely the sort of street those itty bitty SmartCars were designed for.

Our dilemma was that the only way out was to back out. We had already made 2 turns down this street so narrow I could wash the windows of the houses sitting comfortably in my bus seat. It wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that at any moment one of the above-mentioned SmartCars could come careening around the corner and slam right into the back of us. Please, we don’t need any more French Fender Benders! Even Preston, who is always boldly showing off his backing skills with our 30+ foot horse trailer, was a bit nervous in this situation. I knew this was so when, as we were backing out, I saw the most darling cat sitting in the most picturesque window sill just outside my bus door. I asked Preston to stop so I could snatch a few photos and he said “NO”! Darn.

We successfully backed out. Preston , once again, showcasing his backing skills. As we backed out I re-pointed out the sign with the picture of a truck with a red line through it. But what do I know?

The rest of our visit to Cucuron was incredible. We found an incredible town square with a large pond in the center surrounded by large shady trees and several restaurants with picturesque outdoor seating. We sat outside and had a lunch of the most incredible salmon.
After a leisurely lunch we meandered our way back to the mas, stopping along the way for some photo ops, to buy some wine and a quick trip to the lavender factory to get some take-home gifts.

That evening, our last in Provence, we were treated to another catered dinner by Helen. The dinner was preceded by a cocktail hour with a guest; our friend Laura from the French Fender Bender incident.

To say that Laura provided some color to our cocktail hour is an understatement. Laura is from New York City but spends 3 months every summer in Goult. Laura is married but she doesn’t live with her husbands nor does she let that fact keep her from…..exploring. She described how she lives her life by the “4-F principal;” Friends, Family, Financial and …..well, use your imagination for that 4th F-word!

After dinner we made one last trip into town to watch the sunset by the windmill. Back to the mas for packing……

Click here To enjoy photos of the day.