For the more mature of my readers, remember when you were a kid and all those wonderful Westerns were on TV? The Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry. Or even the horse programs like Fury, My Friend Flicka, Mr. Ed. I’d would watch any program that had a horse in it, like Wagon Train, Bonanza, Gunsmoke, you get the picture. All these cowboys had fabulous horses. John Wayne had the same two horses that he used in most of his movies. His career was longer than their life span, I guess. Other than a movie here and there, horses are hard to be found on TV.
As we move through life, we lose people. As we mature, we lose them faster and closer together.
I’ve had some wonderful mentors in my years of horses. The “old timers” had a grasp on horses that the “new comers” will never have. With some, these horses were part of their lively hoods. My first husbands grandfather had work horses. He would use them to haul ice from the lakes to be delivered to customers for their refrigerators. Horses weren’t pets in those days. They were necessities to survive, and make a living. Now I’m not talking about this happening in the country in different states, although it did, he had his business in Staten Island, New York. Yup, right there in one of the five boroughs of New York City. What a different life it was back then. But he had wonderful “homemade” treatments for all that ailed the horses. He did things the “old-fashioned” way, and they worked. He also died and took all that great information with him. He wouldn’t let on to any of his potions.
Well a couple of weeks ago I lost another mentor, who did share his knowledge. Michael J. Torpey, Master of Hidden Hollow Hounds. This man was a hoot! And boy could he dance. Mostly I learned so much from him about Fox Hunting.
When I first joined HHH it was a small, unrecognized, pack with very little territory, but did we have great runs over beautiful country. Then we acquired more land to use and became a recognized hunt. My friend Vincent, who was a Joint Master, wanted us to be recognized, Mike liked it just the way it was. He was very strict on what was proper and what wasn’t. Only small pearl earrings were allowed. No other jewelry. Hair nets were a must, no compromise there. Everything was done “old school.” They weren’t the best bred pack, but they could do their job. I loved watching them run a fox across a freshly plowed field, or gallop after them through a field of pumpkins after Halloween. Pumpkins do crush under your horses feet. At first I was scared that my horse would hit one and it would roll, and therefore we would too, but that never happened.
He taught us all so much, not only about hunting, but a lot about training our horses for the job. We’d have clinics on Saturday in the off-season that would prepare us for anything we’d encounter on the hunt field. Drop jumps, coffin jumps; I loved watching people’s faces the first time they would try one of those. Basically it would be what you see on cross-country courses now.
He gave me and Nancy the opportunity to become Whipper-Ins, and we had a great time doing it. We would practice and show in Hunt Team competition at shows along with our Huntsman Lew.
Mike was the Master and Hunstman until it got cold, and the doctors didn’t want him out below 40 degrees because of his heart. Lew would take over as Huntsman then. When Lew was out-of-town, I would hunt the hounds. Now there was an experience and a half. It looks so easy until you have to do it. Now the hounds only knew me as the person who called them off a scent, so why would they listen to me when I was the Hunstman? They wouldn’t follow my horse, they were looking for Mike and his white horse. So Mike put me on his horse until they got used to my voice. When they acknowledged me, I was able to use my own horse. To this day when I call in my own hounds and Jack Russell, I still use the same words and tones as I did back then. He gave me opportunities that served me well through my years of hunting with different packs, in other states.
He was a tough old dude who didn’t have patience for stupid. He would talk about other Masters whose names were well-known in the Hunting industry and tell me they were a bunch of “Horses Hind Ends (my choice of words, not his.”) I would smile and think he just was very set in his ways and didn’t think much of others. Well thirty years have passed since then and I have ridden under other Masters who are well-known, and guess what? Many were not, but many were. He was right. I told Mike that several years ago, and he was not even a little surprised.
He lived to be 97 and has taught many people to ride and hunt. He would be at every show in the area, just sitting, just watching. Occasionally he would just sit there and shake his head. He was wise in the sense he didn’t volunteer his knowledge, unless he was being paid. That is something I have a hard time doing. I’m more in trying to help the horse, so if I can pass something on to a rider or owner, I just do it. I’ll keep working on that one Mike.
He was a great horseman and mentor. Mike, you will forever be in my mind and on my heart. Someone should blow “Gone Away.” It won’t be me because I never really mastered the horn. I can get by, but he deserves better than that.
Thank you Mike for all you taught me, and the good times we all had.
