My Hunt Cup Runneth Over

Off a road and off another road...shopping strips, gas stations and drug stores disappear.

I stare out and see a horizon of blue and green and empty of what depresses me.

Having said that, I try to avoid looking at Andy's hat.

It's tailgating but this isn't parking at the Firecracker 500 where all come to watch a left hand turn.

There is such beauty in seeing a man or woman on a horse.  Unlike most of traditions that are forgotten, the elegance of the pairing, I'm positive, will last forever.

I'll be dead forever but today I'm alive and I will suck all this in like a Partagas Lusitania.

It's a small crowd - Is that possible?  Off the radar where crowds come only to  promenade their Lilly P and get drunk while they selfie.

Pretentious free, it's all amazingly simple.  Granted, the ethnic diversity is limited but it's so soulful.

A windswept soul. I once asked a tax attorney, what business could  a man deduct everything and keep outta jail.  "Horses," he said.

He added it went back to the early 19th century when business had a lot to do with horses.

And the laws just never changed.  But people do.

Our horses are bits of plastic and steel but we can still fly a flag.

Still, can you ever look this good in a Toyota? Personally, I don't think so.

I love watching rich old white people.

Mostly because it beats watching poor white people.  They like watching a 500 mile left turn.

When I bring a camera, I try to shoot what no one else is shooting. In this case -- the race.

For me, I love the sound I first heard at Keeneland almost 20 years ago.  Hoof on turf and I know it sounds like it did 200 years ago -- 500 years ago -- 1,000 years ago.  A forever soundtrack.

Sometimes I just want to close my eyes and listen to the horses, the wind, the cheering...It is traveling back in time when there was so much elegance despite poor plumbing and dentistry.

Special thanks to the Main Line Sportsman for the invitation & inspiration of the Pennsylvania Hunt Cup

My Fantasy Tavern

Not necessarily famous or a tavern

Less than an hour from Famous Jim's...

In the town of Coatesville,

With a interesting parking lot

and plenty of views...

Is The Whip Tavern

Not so big

But snug...

and warm.

Like the best taverns are.

 Tucked in.

A real tavern is hard to find.  Make no mistake about it. In a world of hyped up ersatz with insipid beer and food owned by mysterious LLCs, it only seems right to celebrate finding something real. I stumbled on The Whip in Coatesville, PA and remember it being praised by Andy of The Main Line Sportsman.   Sitting in a corner by a fire I wondered what it is about a good tavern that sets it apart from a bar.

A roaring fire helps but there's more.  There's serenity in the horsey art. Familiarity in simple wooden stools. Softness in the light -- I almost feel like I'm being tucked in.  I can sit here and look off into space forever sipping a pint rather than guzzling.  Not that I like drinkinig alone but friends in a good tavern are a distraction.  I might miss some navel gazing insight of self awareness as I relax with myself.

A tavern has a lot in common with an English pub. It's really not the place for martinis or cosmopolitans or the attitude those cocktails come with.  Whenever I'm in a good country tavern...I like to think of myself as a farmer. Not a big farm.  Something small and about a mile away.  I have two pints and walk home... careful to  keep a distance from passing carriages.  Gravel crunches under my boots as I take out a pocket watch and figure the walk'll take a half hour or so. I put the watch back in my overalls, shove my hands in pockets and breathe in the honeysuckle of Chester County.

A Manhattan Farmhouse

"In the northernmost part of Manhattan, the Dyckman Farmhouse Museum is the oldest, and the only remaining, farmhouse in Manhattan, built ca. 1784 by William Dyckman, of Dutch descent. It was turned into a museum in 1915 and restored to its late 18th century appearence, as was customary in the early 20th century." Exploring Historic Dutch New York, edited by Gajus Scheltema & Heleen Westerhuijs

It's an odd sight in the BronxManhattan. Dyckman Farmhouse offers a cool spot on Broadway shaded by 300 year old trees and plenty of space to move around in. Deserted on weekends, it's dusty 'living history' that's 18th century Williamsburg boiler plate but it's an amazing find here in NYC.

Take the A train to 207th Street and walk south on Broadway to 204th. Admission is $1 a person. Check out the website and Summer hours here before you go.

4881 Broadway at 204th Street
212.304.9422