LaurenGallops

We try to do it all, all the time, and we do get around. However, sometimes we come up face-to-face with the bruising reality that we can only do so much and we certainly cannot be in two (or more) places at one time!

Therefore, we hark to certain photographers to fill in the blanks. Our ‘stable’ of tried and true shutterbugs includes:

Jordan Koepke

Douglas Lees – no website (but he has email and a cell phone!)

Michelle C. Dunn

Beth Harpham

Brittany Hannah

Wish we had a photo of everyone together, but will dig out pix for each of them…

JORDAN KOEPKE

Jordan does more than take great photos – she’s adept at photoshop and has fixed some jpegs for us, thereby saving our ‘derriere’ on more than one deadline-demented occasion. She’s fun to shoot with, and doesn’t look as if she’s a wife and mother with two young girls who keep her running when she isn’t planted in front of her mac, editing pix. She’s always ready to pitch in when we send up our SOS, and her generosity knows no bounds. If she has it, she lets us use it.  Based in Warrenton, VA, Jordan (who grew up riding) knows horses in many contexts: hunter/jumper, breeding and in hand, foxhunting, and her portraits are top drawer. Jordan is the official photographer of the Warrenton Horse Show. Also, for several years Jordan shot the pony breeding ring on  Saturday (jumper side) at Upperville. She’s available for weddings and special occasions, indoors or al fresco. If yours truly ever gets married, it will be on horseback and Jordan will shoot us – making art out of memories…

Jordan Koepke at Morven Park, photographing the Centennial Field Hunter Championship Finals. There was another image of Jordan and Douglas Lees, hustling up through a ravine, but in the interests of fair play... © Lauren R Giannini

DOUGLAS LEES

Douglas Lees has carved his niche in sporting photography and his favorite subject for more than 40 years has been racing over fences.  He won two Eclipse photo awards: the first in 1978, with a neanderthal film comera compared to today’s digital SLRs, and again in 2007. He also earned three Honorable Mentions and credits all of his honors to “luck and persistence.” Born and raised and still living in the Warrenton, VA area, Douglas shot three of his five Eclipse standouts at either the Virginia Gold Cup or the International Gold Cup Races at Great Meadow in The Plains. When we need something, even if it means trolling through print negative archives, Douglas does it. He also shoots foxhunting, fishing and pretty women, not necessarily in that order.

Two-time Eclipse Award winner Douglas Lees, wearing one of the more flattering hats in his collection of headgear. © Lauren R Giannini

MICHELLE DUNN

Michelle Dunn has been a kindred spirit and great friend since we first met in the press tent at the Rolex Kentucky 3-Day Event in 2006. She’s been like a high-tech mother hen to this photographer in particular as we tackle that marathon called Rolex, and she too steps up to the plate when we need a photo. Based in Ontario (CAN), Michelle serves as the media person for the Royal Horse Show and Royal Winter Agricultural Fair each November. She’s also the primary photographer for Marty Bauman’s Classic Communications’ team at every Rolex. She’s one of the kindest-hearted members of the press, but she’s also no-nonsense: do not ever break a rule at Rolex or you’ll find yourself stripped of your numbered pinny  – it’s for the safety of horse, rider and press, of course. Did we mention she’s like a high-tech mother hen? We got to see her for just a few minutes during the Alltech World Games when Michelle and Patrick bopped in during the second week for a couple days before heading back to Canada to celebrate their Thanksgiving. Michelle has saved our derriere more than once, and always has an encouraging word for us no matter how crazy-busy she might be.

Michelle Dunn and Patrick Field actually stood still after the conclusion of Rolex 2010 so that we could snap several pixies, digital memories. © Lauren R GIannini

ELISABETH HARPHAM

We ran into this foxhunting enthusiast and crackerjack photographer in 2006 whilst gathering material for the Focus On Pennsylvania issue for Sidelines. We needed pix of all the disciplines and sports and two of Beth’s images remain in our mind as  TKOs: Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and a cubhunting photo of the Cheshire huntsman and hounds reflected in a pond. Since then, we have endured a photo-centric friendship that has been uber-enjoyable. Beth wasn’t sure if she liked us at all, however, after we got her roped into doing her Chasin’ blog for Sidelines (she credits Erin with being patient and kind, but we contributed similarly in the first frenzied days of blogger-itis while she figured out how the heck things worked – even though we were up to our ears in deadlines and had several more years in the deadline-dementia department). Beth too has always been beyond generous with her photos – whether shot at Rolex, Fair Hill, or any of the southern horse trials. She makes our job so much easier by being where we can’t – as much as we’d like to be there, but oh well, still dealing with the constraints of being human… Be sure to check out her blog, Chasin’.

Beth Harpham and Nifty, her field hunter, ready to go out and shoot the mock hunt during the 2010 Junior North American Field Hunter Championship in her home territory, where she hunts with Mr. Stewart's Cheshire Foxhounds. © Lauren R. Giannini

BRITTANY HANNAH

Among our ‘reliables’ has been Brittany Hannah. Unfortunately, after graduating from college and encountering the realities of making her way in the world from her home in rural Georgia, Britt decided to head up to the Big Apple to try her photo- and videographic wings. We think she’s considering moving up there for a job… wow, better Britt than yours truly as we stopped doing big cities yonks ago. Our paths crossed at Rolex in 2006 when Britt was in her first year of college and we got along great from the git-go. She has been terrific to work with, lots of fun, and evolved into our “kid sister” to boot. No photo exists at this time that can be considered flattering, trust us! They’re all from Rolex where exhaustion rules, especially at the end. Yo, Britt, if you follow this blog, send me something with a NYC horse (live or statue) in the background – or get one taken when you get home, and I’ll insert it in this post – better later than never! Good luck, kiddo: drop us an email once in a while so we know how you’re doing…

JIM MEADS

This leads to talking about a photographer whose work we have admired for many years. He has no email (that we know of), shoots with a film Leica, and lives across the big puddle. Jim Meads is a tall, rangy Brit blessed with long legs and incredible stamina. He is about to make photographic history right here in the USA, in Virginia, in early December when he shoots his 500th unique hunt.

In 2009, on Saturday of the Virginia Hound Show, about 250 people attended the Virginia Foxhound Club’s buffet luncheon in the tent on the lawn in front of the mansion. Jim Meads received a lifetime achievement award for his photography of the chase around the world, as well as for being a key photographer for many years at Virginia and other hound shows.

There will be a reception for Jim in Upperville, VA on Dec 4th, the evening before his historic and unique 500th hunt. The reception offers heavy hors d’oeuvres, open bar, champagne toast, and a unique Meads poster. You can get in on the action by attending the reception for Jim in Upperville on Dec. 4th and also by riding to hounds with Loudoun West on Dec. 5th.

Please RSVP asap for the reception (it’s vital for the caterers to have an accurate headcount so they can provide ample refreshments), $20 per person, to Gia Anderson at Morven Park: (703) 777-2414. If you’d like to cap with Loudoun West ($100), all are welcome but please call Jt-MFH Donna Rogers at (540) 338-4031 and leave a message with your name and how many people in your group.

Sponsors include: Horse Country Saddlery (Warrenton, VA), the Museum of Hounds & Hunting NA, the Masters of Foxhounds Association, the Irish Draught Horse Society of North America, and the many friends of Jim Meads. Any other questions, please call Marion Maggiolo (540) 347-3141.

Jim Meads with his lifetime achievement award and Harcourt Lees ex-MFH, also a photographer and father of Douglas Lees, at Morven Park during the 2009 Virginia Hound Show, in front of the mansion's portico flanked by life-sized lions. © Lauren R Giannini

TALLY HO!

CEqE and you shall find…

Well, that isn’t how “seek” is spelled, but it sounds just right. Continuing Equestrian Education has been a bit hit & miss the last 10 days, thanks to leaf mold allergies (ours) that delivered knockout-punches like you wouldn’t believe. Between sinuses and lungs, we have been hard put to breathe, but we’ll live, sort of, thanks to a regimen of Neti pot, garlic, raw onion, cayenne and other hot spices, and specific herbal teas.
Our pony, on the other hand, is growing winter coat like there’s no tomorrow (and it’s in the 60s this week), plus putting time into his CEqE.

Last week, on Tuesday, we took Peter in the ring for some circles, serpentines, etc – bareback – because there’s a saddle issue that needs to be addressed asap (more on that another time). Well, Bryan was about, and while we had Peter threading his way in an impromptu pattern around the jumps, Bryan took two sets of un-used standards and constructed a chute.

This is how the chute ended up, but at first Bryan didn't have the "breast bar" rail to close off the front. It was open so we could walk through a few times and stop and walk through.

So Peter walked through several times. Bryan narrowed it gradually so that it was a lot more confining. Note, in the caption, the phrase “this is how the chute ended up” – unfortunately, we didn’t have a camera on us when this impromptu lesson begain, so we weren’t prepared (another lesson of a different sort). Visualize what it was like, because it’s a great exercise for trailer loading.

After Bryan made the chute narrow enough so that the standards scraped at our leggings, he had us stop and just chat idly, then walk out. Several times, no worries. Then, he put up the breast bar rail while we circled to re-enter the chute. Peter stopped a bit shorter, and Bryan very quietly rolled the rail toward him and back, toward him and back. For the pony it was like a game and from our ever-present pocket-stash of hay extender cubes we supplied Bryan with treats to reward Peter. He also got plenty of audible praise.

Then Peter had to back out. Then we circled and walked in and stood, then backed out, and back into the chute/stall and then Bryan left the front and went towards Peter’s tail and leaned on his hindquarters. Pony just stood there wandering what was next on the agenda and when would he get more treats…

So, after about 15 minutes of this, it was the end of a nice little under saddle session that will help Peter cope better with loading into a trailer.

The leaf mold allergy escalated into bronchitis and it was all we could do to keep breathing. So from Wednesday to Friday we stayed close to home, used the Neti, ate a lot of heavily spice chili-style soup and blew our nose so much it just about glowed in the dark. On Saturday we got energetic and headed back to The Fine Equine in Amissville. We raised a small dust cloud grooming the little dickens and tacked up for a ride in the ring. He was a good boy.

Sunday we went back out, by golly, but we were so exhausted it was all we could manage to groom, do some bowen/bodywork and then climb on Peter from the tailgate of the Fine Equine truck and ride him back to his paddock (yes, we had on our helmet – we know the rules).

Monday, day off for Peter – we thought we were getting better, but felt far worse. Tuesday we went out and learned that Bryan had parked the trailer up in the yard near the main house – Peter’s field is right there at the driveway. Wish we had a sound byte – maybe we’ll hook up the recorder one of these days so you can listen to Bryan talking about Peter.

It seems that Peter fancies himself the social director of the Fine Equine establishment. No one drives in or out of the driveway to the house and cottage without Peter’s knowledge. The day the trailer got parked back there, Peter came up to the fence and Bryan said, okay, young fella, come and get on the trailer. No worries, Peter marches up the ramp and stands there waiting for the bus to embark on an adventure.

So, this was the update we heard on Tuesday when we wanted to ride, but had barely enough puff to do cursory grooming. We grabbed the helmet, marched the pony to the tailgate and rode him back to his paddock with a couple of figure of eights thrown in where the drive opens up. No worries, again.

Today, we were feeling sort of strong – at least determined to make the most of the gorgeous day – lower 60s, really pleasant – how many more can we hope to enjoy? Bryan showed up about the time we went off to fetch Peter. He brought a lovely little sporthorse in the barn – large pony – and started grooming her. Asked us if we were going into the ring and we said, yeah, cuz we don’t go on adventures without a horse-pal for Peter. Bryan said he was going about a mile and a half down the road and we were welcome to come along.

Hotdiggitydawg – yes – an adventure!

Peter was quite taken with the mare (whose name Bryan mentioned, but we missed completely, being totally blissed out on the gorgeous weather and riding somewhere instead of circles and serpentines etc in the ring), but he was also interested in the scenery on each side of the driveway. He was great along the shoulder of the road. He didn’t know what to make of certain bits of landscaping, but his behavior remained very calm and reasonable. Cars passed, going in both directions. No worries.

We met Cammie who gets off the school bus at 211 and their road. Bryan could have taken the truck, but he thought it would be more fun to ride the sport-pony and have Peter tag along. Cammie got to ride, Bryan shouldered her hot-pink bag manfully and walked along behind as the pony procession headed back.

It was a great outing. Peter got passed by not one, but two regulation-sized blaze orange schoolbuses – one in each direction – and a motorcyle and a bunch of cars. He was really reasonable about everything – not perfect, but really good.

We’ve always known he had it in him, but the most revelatory part of the return trip was when he managed to get in front of the sport-pony mare so that he was leading the parade. He was so much happier out in front. In his not so humble opinion, everyone was in their right place, and he was doing his job to lead the herd. Such a braveheart, really. We also suspect he was showing off for that little bay mare who, with her rider, wasn’t impressed – they jogged ahead to take back the lead.

Anyhow, we’ve got to dig out the really old little digital camera (therefore relatively expendable) so we can carry it with us and shoot between Peter’s ears – much more fun than trying to paint pix with words.

Oh, heavens – here’s a photo from last summer – proving that the way to a pony’s (brave)heart is through his tummy!

Sometimes, eating a treat off something that a pony might just find a bit scary is a good way to defuse the object forever in the equine's brain... from late summer 2009: after Peter got started under saddle with Linda Tellington-Jones' method at FlyAway Stables with Pam Woolley.

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Yeah, we’ve only just begun, but half the fun is getting there!

As the old saying goes: che va piano va sicuro… which loosely translated into the vernacular means: slowly, slowly catchee monkey.

We’re really going to miss Milo – a chestnut gelding who was Thoroughbred through and through. He was a crafty old fellow, opinionated, but essentially old-fashioned – he wouldn’t really hurt a human, but he managed to let you know exactly how he felt. Milo had a heart of gold, especially for his human partner, Mark.

Together, Mark and Milo expressed that quintessential connection between horse and rider. Not that Mark can be called the most accomplished horseman on the planet, but he certainly proved himself to be one of the most responsible and caring horsekeepers that we have ever run across and we have seen thousands over the years. Mark really looked after that horse’s well-being. He asked questions to the nth degree, researched the internet and tapped into the brain of anyone who seemed at all knowledgeable about whatever subject he happened to pursue relentlessly.

We first met around 13 or 14 years ago when Milo was having some minor soundness issues and the vet wanted to do joint injections. Mark called us in for a consultation. It was the most amazing third degree – and we found ourself drawn to this horse and human. The latter didn’t know a whole lot, but by golly he would move mountains to ensure that his horse Milo felt hale, hearty and happy.

Oh, noble steed! Milo and Mark - taken about 15 years ago, in what Mark calls their "lean years" but look at that man, he's smitten - totally smitten. By the way, Mark just about "rescued" Milo who had spent a year in a stall for a fractured bone in his leg - something about the "look" that Milo gave him and they just clicked from the git-go.

It’s history now. We did the whole nine yards: palpation, observation – you can see a whole lot from the side, front and back views when the horse is walking – felt for sharp edges of molars way back in Milo’s mouth, studied his feet. That’s where the problem seemed to be: his hooves. You look at the whole picture – shoulder and hip angles, the pendulum swing at the walk – Milo had way too long a toe, very low heel, and feet a tad small for his build. We made some recommendations, pleading with Mark not to tell his farrier that all this feedback came from his horse’s massage therapist, but you know how men can be.

The good news is that Mark could see what we pointed out to him – and he acted on it. His horse needed better-balanced hooves, period. Mark went through a few farriers before he was satisfied.

We developed a real affection for Milo and Mark, who called us out several times a year to make sure that all was well with his beloved steed. We enjoyed going out Callithea Farm, managed by horseman George Sengstack who looks after all the equines, field and full boarders alike, as if they are his own children (we nicknamed him ‘Gorgeous George’ because he’s a lovely person and a really good-looking guy. George really works with his boarders, whatever the issue might be: layup for an injury, soaking an abscess, nutrition (soaked hay cubes instead of hay, a different feed, supplements) – whatever.

At Callithea we had the honor of working on a number of horses: Milo, of course, Portrait, Embezzler, Hawk and Chancer, to name a few. Each one had a lesson for our bodywork, but Milo, most of all, taught us about elderly, sensitive, thin-skinned but hardheaded horses. He was a class act all the way.

Milo gives Mark "that look" - don't bother me, laddie, cantcha see I'm busy - somebody's gotta clean up this hay, won't do to let it go to waste...

Over the years, Mark became very comfortable calling – and when we didn’t answer, leaving messages: “Hey, give me a call – I have a question for you.” We made sure to ring back when we had plenty of time, because when Mark was on a quest for know-how for Milo, one question always led to a discussion of the various points of our answer, which usually led to several more, but that was okay, because we loved that funny old horse and we were happy to help Mark.

They were so funny together – especially after Milo got Mark trained. So often, when we got to the barn, we’d view Milo grazing all by himself on an open stretch of grass (he had his favorite spots). If another horse was first in the queue or we were on a schedule (because of deadlines), we’d give Mark a head’s up to keep his horse close by. Inevitably, we would be ready for Milo and he’d be off in the farthest patch of his favorite grazing, and off Mark would trudge.

One day, Mark met us at the barn, telling us that he had to leave right away and that Milo was loose, grazing. The halter had an unusual short stretchy Velcro shank: it started out looped over his head, but eventually fell to the ground. Milo would step on it, then very carefully maneuver his feet to free his head to keep grazing. When we finished with the other horse, we went off to fetch Milo.

That worthy gave us the fish-eye, and managed to keep eating while staying just far enough out of our reach. Nuh uh, no way, Milo seemed to say. So we trudged back to our car and grabbed a baggie of hay extender pellets, one of the only treats safe for our Connemara, but enjoyed by all horses, even the carrot- and apple-loving Milo. Shaking the baggie, distracting him from eluding capture, we snagged the lead shank, gave him his treats and then did his bodywork al fresco while he grazed, because for Milo that was the equine version of decadence. What a horse…

Milo specialized in lawn care, especially clover control. His 'at liberty' presence often alarmed new boarders who would go running out to capture the loose horse until Mark or someone else said, 'Naah, don't worry about Milo - he isn't going anywhere!'

In a way, you could say that Milo trained all of us.

Most of all, he was Mark’s horse. He could pull like a freight train on trail rides. Mark even admitted on occasion to feeling truly terrified when his horse decided to canter (gallop). He just perched up there, grabbing mane, a passenger. But he realized that Milo would slow down eventually and never once did he run Mark into a tree or other solid obstacle. So, when Milo wanted to have a nice little run, away they went.
Mark allowed Milo a free rein, so to speak, and in return that horse gave his own brand of love and devotion. They made quite a pair.

The other night we got a call – Milo was colicky and hadn’t responded to Banamine. Mark was optimistic, but quite concerned. Last winter we had a conversation about Milo’s age and how long realistically he might last. That’s a hard one to call and we don’t have a crystal ball, but while we made the best possible responses we felt frustrated because there is nothing worse than mortality to break up a great pair. We also told Mark that sooner or later he would get another horse, but he shook his head and said he didn’t think so. (That sentiment, thank the horse gods, has changed.)

The next morning, however, Milo, now 28 at least, wasn’t much better. His vet for 10 years, Liza Wagner, who trained in Traditional Chinese Veterinary Medicine, too) had come out to the farm to check on Milo. He was still impacted, and Dr. Wagner suggested taking him to Morven Park where he could be on fluids and get the kind of diagnostic care he needed that she couldn’t provide on the farm.

It wasn’t good news at all when Mark called us a little after 5. Milo had all sorts of advanced problems and the vet at the Marion duPont Scott Equine Medical Center didn’t pull any punches. Mark and George, who had hauled them there, listened with sinking hearts. When it came down to the wire, Mark decided that there was only one place for Milo to cross the rainbow bridge – and that was back home at Callithea.

So that’s what happened with the sun going down on November 2nd – Milo flew home, because that horse was all Thoroughbred and had found his wings again. It’s a tribute to his heart that he showed no signs of distress until his cancer hit a very advanced stage. And it’s a credit to Mark’s devotion to that horse that he wanted to remember him the way he was when they let him off the trailer and turned him out – he galloped and pranced over to his buddies. Some others in the big field came to investigate, too. It was an impromptu equine Shiva for Milo, who felt no pain thanks to the drugs administered that day.

Milo departed peacefully. Dr. Wagner said that of all the horses she had helped to cross over, Milo went the easiest. He was grazing and relaxed, and lay down happy with a mouthful of grass.

When we paid our respects later that evening, Milo’s coat felt as light as feathers – so familiar – that bright chestnut coat, as fine as thistledown. It had triggered some heated discussions about rain sheets and blankets when the weather was bad. Milo was stretched out near his favorite grazing and tasty clover will bloom in his memory.

Just back from trail ride, Mark's ready to party at Callithea and Milo - well, that worthy steed is thinking about going over to his favorite grazing and doing a little lawn maintenance - sort of like a little par-tay of his own ...

Mark and everyone who knew and loved Milo are understandably heartbroken. Milo was the lucky one – he went out still compos mentis and pranced for his pasture pals one last time. The horse was just as valuable and revered as any world-class performance horse. Mark will get another horse eventually, probably sooner than later (we whispered to Milo to expedite his successor’s arrival) and then a new equine legend will be in the making.

Milo will probably ‘drop in’ and coach the new horse on the proper care and handling of its human – and all will be right again for Mark and George and the community of horse-crazy kids of all ages at Callithea.

Go on – hug your horse.