And yes, it does sound like Chevrolet.
This was a bit of a homecoming for me, the first time I hunted in the north of France it was with this pack. I was there by accident, sent after stopping for hunting directions into the saddlery in Chateau-Thierry. When I hove up in the forest, I was a couple of minutes late. I was taken in by two women in a little car, one of whom spoke much better English than I did French. It was a good day, and the courree in the darkness wasn't the end of it. The night was one of those icy, clear skied, star spangled ones that make the trees crack. After the hounds had their reward, the horn players kept going. People brought out wine, logs were thrown on the bonfire, and it continued into late in the night.
My non-English speaking pilot and her husband took me back to their house to make sure I had good directions out. When we went in, the place was exactly what you would expect- deer horns, hunting prints, typical.
But here's the thing- it was an apartment. And not just any apartment, but one of those soul destroying Le Corbusier "machines for living" tower blocks. Amazing.
Anyway, we drove up to the meet, again in Compiegne. Husband of pilot was the first person we saw, followed shortly by pilot herself. Her English was no better, but my French slightly improved.
And she makes the BEST apple crumble I ever put into my mouth!
Her car was full though, and there were three of us, but she found us someone to follow.
We were made welcome, and we could see at a glance our guide would be excellent. In every hunt Ive seen in France, there's been a Niva.
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And that Niva has been there, right far more often than wrong. So, with a cry of Cherchez La Niva, we moved off.
They were slow to find. Lots of busy roads caused the typical problems.
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I am sure he said, “You women wait here, I am just going out to get bread for breakfast. I will be right back.”
When hounds did find the deer, they stuck.
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Back to the meet. Some of the hounds were patient...
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Some more focussed.
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After the curee,
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the humans had their own
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with food and wine by the fire. No one bit anyone, at least not that I could see. I met two people who had hunted coyotes in the U. S., with the same pack but some 15 years apart. Small world!
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