It was a very Virginia day. Very Vah-jen'-ya. Old money. Colonial Southern. Lots of women in tall black boots, riding boots that aren't used for riding. Many, many hats adorned with flowers and straw and floppy brims. Men with pipes and sweater vests. "Tailgating," if you will, but not with hot dogs and cans of Bud Light. Fondue sets, champagne glasses, smokers, brie platters, catered spreads.
We loved every minute of the Montpelier Hunt Races. Stunning horses, their muscles billowing up close as they leapt over steeplegates right in fron of our eyes. On the grounds of the Montpelier estate, home of James Madison. My college buddy Sarah and her husband Lane invited us, as newly residented Virginians, to join their gang for a beautiful fall day at the races. Friendly wagers, managed by Lane, made the short runs all the more interesting. Our favorite was the runnning of the hounds to start the races. The kids played beanbag toss (which is called "cornhole" in these parts), the grown-ups chatted and reminisced. We were hoping to see Molly's penpal, Thomas, whom she had met just over a year before at Lane and Sarah's Virginia wedding. Suddenly, with little warning, Rebecca got quite sick, and we needed to make a swift exit to avoid spreading her germs. (The week before, 3 in our household had weathered the pukey storm, and we did NOT want to share with the other partygoers.) So we missed the last two races, and very unfortunately--we learned later--narrowly missed Thomas and his dad.
Despite this disappointment, we loved our day among the monied Virginians, and hopefully, we can return next fall for a redux!
Click here for pictures. You won't be disappointed!
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