Thundering hooves and feathered hats

Being a fan of the writer Dick Francis I knew that when I came to England one of the things I had to do was attend a horse race. While researching upcoming races near London I found out about Ladies day, a day where people dress up and wear amazing hats, taking place at Plumpton racecourse in East Sussex. It seemed like a great way to spend a day out, so on Sunday Alice, Valentina and I took the hour long train ride to the racecourse. We got our first view of the course when the train pulled into the station and we walk toward the entrance. A fence closed off a grass covered track where the jumps were being set up for the races that afternoon. As we walked further we passed one of the course bars and some vendors selling food, then we passed through a small entrance and we were in the racecourse. Stands composed of seats, private boxes, bars and a restaurant stretched out along one side of the track, the bookmakers set up their stands, ready to take bets from the people trickling in. Upon crossing to the center of the course we found more bookmakers, another bar, a stage with live music and rides to entertain the young children that had accompanied their parents to the event. Taking out our racing programs, we used highly scientific methods such as the colour and name of the horse to pick our favorites to will in each race. This wasn't necessarily so we could bet on these horses but rather so we would have a horse to cheer on. We moved up to the rails and soon the first race was underway. The horses lined up and as the starter's flag went down they took off.

Only half the course is visible from the stands or from the center course so there was a large screen to watch the race on. As the horses rounded the corner at the far end of the course all heads turned from the screen and watched as the horses races closer, going over jumps along the way. The sound of the horse's hooves was like thunder, growing louder until they passed in front of us.
We were only feet away and I could see the muscles in the horses' legs move, I could hear their breathing, and could almost feel their instinctive desire to be first as they did what they had been bred and raised to do, run. There was a blurred rainbow of colour from the jockeys' shirts and if you caught a look at their faces you could see their focus as they urged their mounts faster toward the winning post. In the first race my favorite, Kahfre, won and I was filled with pride at my ability to pick a winner, this was my only winner of the day, although another of my choices placed in the second race.
In between the races there was entertainment on the stage, competitions for the best dressed lady and gentleman, and plenty of conversations going on about which were the best horses in the next race. A dramatic moment came during the third race when the horse Whatdoyoucallit fell after going over one of the jumps. The horses behind were forced jump over the fallen horse and his dismounted jockey, resulting in one of the following horses also falling. As the screen showed the fall there was a collective gasp from the crowd and my anxiety was high until the end of the race when they showed the uninjured horses being led off the track and the jockeys walking in their wake.
The afternoon progressed with races every half an hour, although none were as eventful as the third, and after the seventh race the crowds began moving out of the course, passing the occasional littered unsuccessful betting slip. The day was highly entertaining and throughout the day I could not help but share in the excitement of cheering on "my horse" and the nervousness as the horses and jockeys went over the jumps. If anyone has the chance to go to a race, I would highly recommend it and hope that you find it as enjoyable an experience as I did.

Kate Hilliard
UC Santa Cruz
Go Banana Slugs!