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ter do something," she says. "And did we have enough money to go to college? only if you made it happen. "i am not college material, i gotta tell you that right now," lloyd continues. "i'm not dumb. i am terribly dys- lexic—which i love—because it gives you ability with the horses. But college wasn't my thing." instead, lloyd's "thing" was her growing natural horse sense. With money she had saved from part-time jobs throughout school, lloyd applied for a training pro- gram in england her mother had heard about. to save the cost of a flight over, she chose to journey across the pond via a 10-day sail on the rms Queen elizabeth, that historic ship's final voyage east. "ey fed you three meals a day!" lloyd exclaims even now. "And my other thinking was, 'i can swim, but i sure can't fly.' " With only enough money for a one-way ticket and a bag filled, for the first time, with "appropriate" riding attire—no more jeans and sneakers—lloyd embraced exciting new possibilities and delighted in the experience. "it was a great education, because you learned all about clipping and blanketing and wrapping horses," she says. "ey actually get their teeth done! And their feet!" lloyd completed the program in three months, but she needed a job to fund her return ticket. so in the first of many happy accidents throughout her life, she took a position as a groom for a wealthy foxhunter, and her pas- sion for the sport ignited almost immediately. "she's lady Blah, Blah, Blah—whatever she is—and lives in the manor house, and my job was to take care of her four horses," she says. "she had a retired horse named fernando and told me i could hunt him in the local packs. e first time i heard those hounds cry, a cell inside of me that i didn't even know existed went, 'oh my god!' "i hear a baby crying, and i'm running the other way," she chuckles, pausing to light another cigarette. "i hear those hounds, and i want to go with them. at was it for me. i decided i had to hunt." Lynn Lloyd's inclusive, welcoming approach to life is evident in the way she con- ceptualizes hunting. "How are we going to continue to get people inter- ested in hunting?" she asks. "We need them, so you've got to bring them in without intimidating everybody, [mak- ing them think] that they have to dress or look a certain way. Like, if I'm going yachting tomorrow, I'm going to start in my cutoffs and sneakers. If I get into it, I'll buy the 'uniform,' but you don't do that at the beginning. "I think every sport should be that way. It shouldn't be so elitist," she continues. "It's the same with some hunts who make the juniors ride in the back. My philosophy is, get 'em to the front, because that kid's going to take over some- day! Juniors don't get inspired riding in the back." Lloyd has also come up with a clever answer to the perpetual question of what to do with aging hounds: "Old Farts' Days." Around age 7 or 8, most hounds are generally retired from the pack because they can no longer keep up, but they're not ready to be couch potatoes yet either. "They're used to being the frontrunners and are now in the back," Lloyd explains. "Old age gets them, but they still want a job. So I have a whole old pack that the kennel hunts- man hunts twice a month. "That way people who are young or old or infirm can also hunt, and it's a slower pace," she continues. It's the perfect icebreaker experience for inex- perienced or cautious riders, and it's also an opportunity to just enjoy watching hounds work more methodically. Plus, the elder canines help train new hounds and hunt staff as well. "Those old hounds still have a nose," Lloyd says. "They may not be able to hear or see, but they've got that!" To read more about the concept and execution of Red Rocks' "Old Farts' Days," check out our feature story in the June 16, 2014, issue of e Chronicle of the horse. Fresh Ideas For Foxhunting GretCHen PelHAM PHoto "It shouldn't be so elitist," says Lynn Lloyd of foxhunting. c h r o n o f h o r s e . c o m w i n t e r 2 014 49 In 1973, Lloyd, then only 23, saddled up her horse and set off from just outside New York City. She had no plan other than to ride to San Diego.

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