The Manor Races Photographs and story by Alexander Yaggy

April 2021

Spring has returned and Covid is on the retreat. After a year of everyone in isolation, vitality showed in the fields of Maryland again as the steeplechases brought some of the first gatherings of crowds in a long, long time.

In a regular year, The Manor Races have a terrifically fun spirit. Last Saturday, despite a diminished crowd of only the great fans, plus a few rowdy tailgaters, it was positively joyous. I felt nothing but lucky to be walking the fields off Pocock Road again. Wandering through the spectator areas I ran into people I hadn’t seen since the last races in 2019 and, as they were then, all were generous. People offered food as a I walked along the parked cars. I reconnected with Dave, owner of an amazing converted Army medic truck that is basically a living room that can go anywhere. I suspect there is a full bar, a refrigerated beer tap, a widescreen TV, and probably a hidden hot tub. Indelibly in my memory is Dave shouting, “Run Alex Run” as I sprinted through revelers for the Hunt Cup finish line in 2019. He, along with his wife, could not have been better hosts for me this year as I ran around with my Nikon.

The Steeplechases remain the best spectator sport in the world. The land is beautiful, the horses stunning, the jockeys brave, and the sport intense.

Sam Robinson knows. He’s been painting them for years and is a fixture on the scene, with his easels, classic appearance, and wonderful paintings executed very rapidly. He recently wrote about his experiences with the races here > Oil Painters of America

The thing about steeplechases is that the courses are long. No matter where you are, a good portion of the race is invisible. Hills roll up and down, trees block views and, when the wind blows, one can’t hear the announcements. I’ve walked the entirety of the Manor course looking for great vantage points, and there are a number of them. Fence four was recommended to me two years ago by the jockeys as a special one, so I went there again for the first race, the 100th running of The My Lady’s Manor.

The obstacle itself, a simple black wall hard against a creek, is stuffed into a 30 foot break in the trees. I positioned myself just over the jump, in the bushes against a tree, knowing roughly where the horses would leap. Behind me was a judge and a video camera operator who was working only his second steeplechase. He remained a bit unclear on how it all worked.

I got into position and waited. Around the start time I could hear bits of announcements about the start, and then I waited some more. Far over the hills I could see the judge’s tower, but other than that just lovely fields with birds singing. And then they came, fast and high, over the fence. Behind me the camera operator told me he completely missed it.

In the roughly six minute race, it takes the riders about 70 seconds to reach the fourth, clear it, and turn the corner to the fifth. At that point, unless one can run a 5 minute mile uphill, the race is basically over for you as a spectator.

I could hear the announcer, not entirely clearly, as the pack neared the finish line during my walk back, but I was too far away to hear the crowd. Vintage Vinnie took first. But other than the brief run past my jump, I missed it all.

I live in New York City, one of the greatest places in the world, but at heart I am a country boy, happy in the fields. However, not everyone is as familiar with country living. When I made my way to the Judge’s Stand for the first time of the day, I met up with Jake, Clerk of the Scales, pictured below. For those country neophytes, he has written a book - a guide for city folk on how to live in the country. I am greatly looking forward to it, and will probably send a few copies to those I know who’ve made the move themselves.

The second race, The John Rush Street Memorial Steeplechase, was my best of the day. It is run over the same course and I suppose I tried to determine the most punishing way I could shoot it. Start at the third fence - after they clear, the horses have a good long loop of maybe 3/4 of a mile to run leaving me time to run to the 7th, crouch in the tree line, shoot some more photos, and then sprint half a mile (ok, maybe not that far) uphill to perhaps catch the finish. And I did. I nearly collapsed, but I did it. In the first photos of the Third, I love that an Outrider’s horse is watching the race from far up on the hill.

The run from Fence 3 to Fence 7 is not that bad. In the last two images above you can see the hill I ran up to the finish. That was a bit tougher, but worth it. The entire race takes just over six minutes.

It’s difficult to convey the speed the horses achieve at the end of these races. After nearly three miles, over jumps, and at the Manor, a good bit of hills, the final sprint over the two last fences is intense - particularly through a wide alley of excitable spectators. The nature of the event, with obstacles, soft turf, and closing gaps at the end means anything can happen up to the finish line. Myself, I had just run up the hill and caught the end of the second race from atop a coiled roll of snow fence. It was unsteady, as were my own legs, so we cancelled each other out.

For the fourth and final race, The John D. Schapiro Memorial, Skylar McKenna held on to the lead and triumphed, riding Super Saturday to the line. Below the entire pack of five was tight to the very end, and these shots were taken just before the final hurdle and maybe a few hundred feet from the finish.

As always, the day is spectacular. It began with a high hazy light that graciously cleared for the sun towards the end of the meet. People were happy, freed from the inside, at one of the first allowed post-Covid gatherings. Masks were ever-present but so were the smiles. A day in the country is a welcome event after last year’s forced hiatus.