There are - in my admittedly limited experience - (at least) two types of huntmaster (HM) jobs. I started HM at lure coursing trials a year or so ago, and think it's a great gig. I get to eye-ball every hound that enters the field, I have an up-close view of every course, and I get to make a contribution to the club's efforts in putting on trials. There are job duty specifics (such as timing the Tally-ho!) that take some brain-work, and if I'm going to be outside all day I'd rather be moving than sitting on my butt. My own hounds get a lot less attention when I'm HM, so I prefer to only do it one day of a trial. All it all, it's a good fit for me.
Other than yelling Tally-ho!, HM in lure coursing has nothing in common with HM in OFC. And I'm now doing that, let me tell you, it is the ultimate no-win role.
At the beginning of the season I read an article, published some fifteen years ago, saying (I'm paraphrasing) that if there were lots of rabbits the field got the credit, and if there were no rabbits the HM got the blame. Having been both Gallery and HM, I'd wager that's a basic truth.
My first few HM apprentice experiences were full of advice and bemusement... there are no wrong choices, I was told. When rabbits are few and far between, the Gallery certainly second-guesses and stage-whispers their dissatisfaction. Opinions are like noses: everybody has one and they all smell. Some are good, some are bad, but I get no takers when offering to hand over the job mid-day.
OFC is about the chase, not the catch. from the rulebook:
"A get-together of owners, handlers and hounds for the purpose of evaluating performance of the hounds on live game on its own ground." The jacks have every possible advantage: a head start, incredible speed, agility, and terrain familiarity. We honor most those that get away - and virtually all do.
The HM is allowed to walk dogs on the line, and I have discovered that my neck and shoulder muscles are much more sore now that I HM. I think this is because, in addition to 160# plus of dog in my hands and a ruck sack with 20# of water and provisions, I'm constantly scanning - right, left, right, left, repeat - for movement. My head and eyes are in constant motion, and my muscles aren't used to it yet. Gallery placement, formation (tight in the trash, looser in open areas) steering a dozen or so people plus dogs to some murky target on the horizon, keeping hunt dogs evenly forward, and constantly looking for game. The HM must have a good memory - what ground has been covered, or not, what was productive, where the rocky areas and arroyos and fences are, where the judge is or should be, where we're going next, and oh yes where are the vehicles because at some point we're going back there. Some people carry a GPS; I don't - excess weight is to be avoided and frankly, I prefer the open field to be a technology-free zone.
There are also no right choices. In my humble and inexperienced opinion, it's orchestrating chaos.
When something moves I have a split second to find and identify it - bird? gopher? cottontail? jackrabbit? If a jack, I next look at the hunt dogs, are they sighted? If no, I have fraction of a split second to decide if the dogs can GET sighted. I may yell RABBIT LEFT then TALLYHO!! and watch for pre-slips. As the hounds in my hands transform into hysterical hairy helicopters and I hang on for dear life while desperately trying to maintain my footing, I scan the Gallery to ensure there are no loose dogs, confirm the judge is doing his job, order everyone to take three steps back, or get down or shut up or all of the above or whatever else is necessary... Be wrong and the hunt dogs are slipped on the wrong species. Be late and they lose the the jack in the cover. Be downwind and the far handler that's hard of hearing (or running off at the mouth) misses the slip. Be anything short of pretty perfect and you're a heel. Get it all right, and you're just flat lucky.
And luck plays a spectacular role in OFC. For example, if your dog is in blue (hence on the right) and the rabbit breaks out on the left and goes left, you are unlucky. It is a rare dog that can overtake and dominate a course from the outside position. If the rabbit breaks in high cover and is quickly lost... If the rabbit leads your dog on a merry chase across bad terrain and your dog is injured... If you walk for hours and hours and never see a jack... If it is a short course and your dog doesn't have the opportunity to demonstrate endurance, the score will reflect that... and you are unlucky. But if the rabbit breaks in the clear, and your dog is sighted, and the lay of the land is such that you can see most of the course, and it's a good rabbit and makes honest dogs work hard and then gets away, and your dog comes back sound, you are very lucky indeed. Bad luck is easy to come by, good luck much harder.
Of course, a good day in the field requires much more than luck; good planning and common sense are absolute necessities. Bring out an unconditioned or untrained dog, come out sans proper supplies and knowledge, fail to be prepared for bad luck, and you're stupid - not unlucky: stupid. If luck favors the well-prepared, we are all able to stack the deck in our favor.
One frustration, for me, is the lack of data on jackrabbit behavior. Considered a pest species, there's not a lot of empirical information available on where to find them, how they behave at different times of day or based on temperature, wind speed, season... There's plenty of anecdotal information, some of which is probably accurate, but lots of just plain baseless opinion too. I am left to wonder if jacks would be easier to find if we understood them better.
I suppose I will make a decent HM for OFC for a couple of reasons: I'm loud (an indispensable talent when the Gallery is screaming RABBIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and hounds explode in frustration at the end of taut leashes), and I don't care if I'm wrong. A bad day in the desert with dogs beats the socks off a good day doing most anything else.
Want the job? It's yours, I'll walk over here with my dogs and keep my eyes peeled. Don't want it? Don't blame you, it's a no-win job.
Nothing like an 11-mile slow-motion trek to give you respect for the Huntmaster.
ReplyDeleteHaven't read anything much about learning the ropes since it all went underground, and I miss it. Back then you could kind of get a feel for OFC from new and more seasoned folk's hunt reports, and you had some kind of idea what to expect if you ever got "out there" yourself.