Goodwill hunting

Meet Tasmania's Northern Hunt Club, where no animals are harmed, women lead the field and a glass of port (or local sparkling) warms the heart, even on the frostiest morning.

- WORDS by SUSAN CHENERY

Through the mist come the fine horses, galloping alongside icy rivers, trees winter bare. The thud of hooves on the ground, the excited hounds running, noses to the ground, looking for the scent. It could be a scene from an 18th century English painting. The formal riding jackets, ties, boots, white jodhpurs. The glorious scenery, the steaming horses. But this is the muted palette of the Tasmanian Northern Midlands, and this is the largely female Northern Hunt club.

“The majority of the committee and working members of the club have been women for as long as I remember,” says the secretary, Hayley Atkins. “My grandmother was one of the founding members.”

Hayley was three when she was first put on a pony and led around the hunt. “As soon as they could ride, they were coming with us,” says her grandmother, Sandra Atkins. Hayley has since been a national level show jump rider. She admits to being “a bit of an adrenaline junkie”.

Sandra joined the club in 1961. Now 84, she still rides with the hunt every week. She is a bit shaky on the ground - she needs a crutch after three hip and two knee replacements - but on a horse she flies along. “I try not to fall off,” she says with a snort of laughter. “Some people just fall off. My instinct is to stay on.” She mainly tries to stay on because she doesn't want to have to walk home, she jokes. But it's a horse sport at high speed; accidents do happen.

Sandra is also a crack shot. “I’ve been shooting most of my married life to earn money by selling the meat to go to the mainland, and by competing and shooting.”