24,000-plus descend on Foxfield for annual steeplechase, social gathering

By Jeremy Borden

Published: April 27, 2008

Just beyond the chicken-wire fence and legions of serious-looking uniformed police there was a world splashed in Technicolor where the sundress reigned supreme.
The annual Foxfield Races are a University of Virginia rite of passage, and an estimated 24,000-plus again descended on Albemarle County on a mostly sun-drenched Saturday to observe the South in all its glory and contradiction. It’s as much an acres-wide frat party and barbecue as it is a horse race and fashion show.
Dapper Southern gentility mixed with frat antics and dress: men in blue seersuckers, pink shirts with pastel green ties; women in floral, wallpaper-like sundresses. The so-called infield was really an acres-wide catwalk featuring thousands in blinding color and Koozied beer, with galloping horses racing for money and pride in the middle of it all. The race’s “high society” section featured a much more refined scene, with chilled white wine, elaborate sun hats and freshly cut flowers providing a stark contrast to the younger crowd across the track.
“It’s like a bad Easter Sunday,” said Tim Weil, a Princeton student who came down to visit with friends, as he
sat atop a black pickup truck looking at the haphazardly organized mayhem.
“I’m a little too insecure to wear pink,” said Steve Harvath, dressed in a tame white-and-blue collared shirt. “Maybe next year I’ll be a little bit more sure of my masculinity.”
Most felt right at home: “Whenever I go to an event, I ask if it’s OK if I wear loud colors,” said Taylor Yates, dressed in a pink shirt with Technicolored tie.
There were horses, too, though several bystanders said they were still looking for them.
About two hours before the first race, horses arrived one-by-one, and owners and trainers from the close-knit horse community greeted one another under a refreshing canopy near the stables, set well off to the side from the tailgaters. The din of what most know as Foxfield was nearly drowned out by the birds in the oasis of calm.
Foxfield is, in fact, a premier steeplechase event with big stakes on the line, horse trainers and owners said. The last race carried a total purse of $25,000, though it was cancelled due to a sudden thunderstorm that interrupted what was otherwise a blisteringly hot and sunny day.
“It’s a party,” horse owner Bruce Smart said of Foxfield. “But I’m here for the horse races. It’s friendly competition, but … we like to beat each other.”
For most, though, Foxfield is a social event featuring the best of Southern food and drink. From the basic Styrofoam cooler filled with beer and a bucket of chicken resting on the bed of a truck, to the more elaborate tailgate with fresh flowers and chilled champagne. Deviled eggs, steak, fried chicken, barbecue, mashed potatoes, potato salad and cheese plates provided ample bedding for the more elaborate mint juleps or the simpler iced bourbon and beer.
Foxfield seemed to be going on without much of a hitch all day. Although private security and police perhaps put a kink in the day for some of the unruly or unlawful, most relished the hot sun and brilliant blue sky.
And then the rain came. A thick gray cloud quickly moved in around 4:30 p.m., just before the scheduled start of the last race. The sky opened up and lightning struck and fat raindrops fell, sending thousands to scurry for cover.
“It’s an abrupt ending,” said Evan Fillman, a UVa senior. But he couldn’t find a reason to let it damper his spirit.
“Beautiful weather, beautiful people … the day under the sun. Foxfields is the definition of America.”