An afternoon of "Chasing Tails."

 It's called "Fox Hunting", but that is bit of a misnomer. In Ohio, "hunting" means guns and dead creatures. And, despite my, at times, unwise choices of equine hunt partner, I haven't yet died, and neither do the creatures. The weapons are limited to goofy, chatty hounds and a horn (the kind you blow in to make noise, not rhino or anything).
You could attempt to change the term to "Fox Chasing", but that implies regular fox participation. Every so often a fox does make the day special by leading the hounds on a futile chase, but more often it is a deer or rabbit or somesuch, which the hounds are not allowed to chase. Mostly it is just a great amount of fun chasing tails. I guess ideally, the hounds chase the tail of the fox, the Huntsman chases the tails of the hounds, the Master of Foxhounds chases the Huntsman followed by the field of riders chasing the tail of the horse in front of them.
It could just be called less mysteriously, "running around in a queue."
But that doesn't sound nearly as rousting as the real deal! It can be cold, it can be wet. It can be cold, wet, windy, muddy... and it still makes you glad to be alive!

And, now, it is something enjoyed by The Boys. Youngest and his mount, Baily have found their stride in the hunt field, and are starting to enjoy the sport. When last we climbed in the truck to drive home after an afternoon of chasing tails, I asked him this; "On a scale from 1-10, how much fun did you have?" 

He answered,  "A lot of fun!" Which, you may note, is not a numeral between 1 and 10. I persisted, and got "A 9! It would've been a 10, except..." and he went on to describe in fine details little subtractions from 10 that pared, ultimately, down to 9.  Which means, a lot of fun.

 Our great group of Pony Club riders getting ready to set off. 

It was a Pony Club Hunt, so a day set aside to invite these young riders to come try the sport. The young members of a field are called "Juniors" and they typically ride at the very back of the field of riders, chasing the last tail. On Junior Hunts or Pony Club Hunts, the young riders are invited right up behind the Master, and allowed to hunt at the front.
The riders from our own Hunter's Run Pony Club chose to ride mostly in the first and second field, the first being the main field staying right with the Master of the Hounds and the Huntsman. The second field follows the Field Master for that field, who takes it a bit more slowly.  But it is still very exciting, and you get to see most of the action. Which is to say, hounds running about, the Huntsman talking to them by voice and horn, and then dashing off, or turning around, or standing, and then dashing off again. It sounds like a 3, but it is a 9, for sure.

As they prepared to go off in the sunshine, we could see the Ohio sky warning of rain, and by the time they set off it was raining sideways. 

The Huntsman gathered the hounds and told them it was time to activate their noses! (Dogs have 220 million olfactory receptors. Humans have only 5 million. And, scent hounds are the most sensitive of canines! ) The hounds set a brisk pace, and they were off! 

An hour an a half later, rain and sun playing peek-a-boo, they came cantering back, covered in mud. 

Youngest managed to close his mouth, but nothing else was spared. Chasing tails means having mud thrown in your face!

A few baby wipes later, slipping into clean boots and a clean jacket, Youngest was ready for the "tea" held after the hunt. This, no doubt, adds to his high estimation of the Hunt. Good Food. 

A lively day in the countryside, a full belly and a warm truck for the ride home, and it didn't take long for me to lose my travel companion. Thank goodness for podcasts!