Amanda: Zamora, the End
The second trial was shortened for the sake of the lost fog time in the first one. Even with no shed, the time was not caught up. The course shortening was disappointing for everyone, including the management, but something had to give. Handlers moved out into the big field to stand at the post. The pen was dropped from the course and a single added. Running on three sheep. The shifting of the post made a surprising, radical change in the outrunning, in the approach that dogs took over the terrain.
Clive took a nonsensical track to the exhaust, once he got out of my eyesight. I trusted him to go smartly, a completely misplaced trust. He turned up behind me. Bad Boy, seemed like a nice name for him at the time.
Roz ran well with ragged timing at the drive, for both me and her which we understood would be an issue. Next time, coming out a day or two early to sharpen up dogs and me would improve things all around.
Geri Byrne led the trial with an 81 score from Saturday. The weather for the Sunday was spectacular Sunny California. Cool, but vivid and inspiring. The sort of weather for which one takes a southern sojourn. I met up with our new documentary film maker who is following a
few hands through Soldier Hollow, Drew Hadra, from Los Angeles.
Talking of a trip to this part of California and failing to mention food and wine is irresponsible so, Sandy and I met in Sonoma at Della Santina, a mutual favourite Italian place, just off the town square. The service is casual, but mindful of details, the atmosphere low key, but the food is great. Sandy had veal piccata. I had homemade papardelle with duck ragu. We had R Pinot with it and I had Panna Cotta with Italian cherries, for dessert. They make the best Cesar salad I have ever had in a restaurant.
Today, I did a very difficult tour of duty through the Dry Creek Wine area and Healdsburg. I solicited wine donations at all the wineries along West Side Road, which include many of my personal favourites, Porter Creek, Rochioli, Gary Farrell. It was a hard job but somebody had to do it. Just to keep up my enthusiastic face, I had to taste many of their reds, Zins and Pinots. Such hardship. I did a good job of making it look as though I liked it.
Sandy and I worked dogs when home on Calistoga Road. The daffodils are out, the camellias are blooming like mad, as is the rosemary. And Roz is
running more like herself or maybe I am running her more like myself. Whatever. Tomorrow I take on the airports.
Amanda: Zamora, Day One
The Zamora hills arise out of nowhere. The flattest fattest agricultural land in the USA, continues for miles. Its almond, cherry, any kind of fruit orchards and walnuts occupy acres by the hundreds. Rows and rows of flowering trees as far as the eye can see, with fresh stacks of bee hives occupying the ends of the rows. What a dazzling sight. Suddenly out of the flat are the romping grassy hills of Zamora. Some ground must have dropped away to make them and other ground pushed up. You drive through them for a few miles and things flatten out again into the rich agricultural land of the San Juaquin valley. But the Zamora hills are are tucked away in the flatness, a little undulating miracle, invisible from the flat surroundings.
The trial site is spectacular. The sheep are located up a draw about five hundred yards with steep hills up each border, that good outrunning dogs must climb for the coveted twenty pointer. Those not endowed with a local sheep dog trial environment like this one would drive by such a place and say. And say “Now there is a place for magnificent sheep dog trial.”
The weather had other plans. Several days of rain had put a lively water course into an otherwise dry creek bed at the bottom. A fog settled in early in the morning and the planned 6:30 start was delayed by at least two worrisome hours. When if finally blew off in a hurry, we started, Clive up first. His outrun was a botch. He was confused, temporarily lost and permanently lost a lot of points by the time he picked up his sheep and critically, time. The shed had been dropped from the course and time shortened to account for the lost hours from the fog. After he picked up the sheep, he was efficient in the extreme but ran out of time at the end of his shed. On the first day, no one penned and the leaders were the only one to finish their drives.
This made a trial of conundrums. You were required to rush but some of the sheep couldn’t rush for stamina’s sake. But you could not tell if yours were some of the sheep that could not be rushed until you took a stab at it. So the results show many no scores and scores in the ball park of 32 where the drive was not finished. It must have been hard for Patrick to judge.
Roz had a perfect thrilling outrun. But had a sheep cave at the post. Retired.
It has not been a particularly social trial–too cold to sit out side and the rain has been relentless. But lots of pleasant conversation in cars.
We went out to a hip meat and potatoes restaurant, the Buckhorn, in Winters. California is full of great little towns that address good food in attentive ways. Winters was one of those. Beef and a glass of good Pinot
are right for cold rainy days.
Amanda: California, Here She Comes!
Zamora has all the trappings of a great trial. Range ewes, an idyllic setting on soft green hills, and this year a great judge, National Champion Patrick Shanahan.
I am going. Travelling with dogs nowadays is done against all odds. Airlines refuse them for all possible reasons. Normally I can fly from Kingston, connect in Toronto and go straight to San Francisco. But for the winter, the planes from Kingston are too small to accommodate dogs. I have to drive to Toronto and fly from there which seems straightforward but, assuredly, it is anything but. Traffic north of Toronto, airport parking, manoeuvring dogs, customs, and security equal pain. And that does not include the San Francisco end.
I was considering my chances of not looking like a fool given all this combative effort. I have not had a dog around sheep for a month and half. Even if the dogs run fine, one has to question my capacity to have any timing with them. I am likely to run badly.
I will tell you how I feel about the experience at its conclusion.
I am leaving Clive in California for month, with Sandi Anderson. It will save me pushing him through the airports twice and he will be available for west coast bitches should anyone think he can do something for their breeds
I can’t wait to be there, all the same, in the California rain and mud. Zamora, here I come.
Amanda: Michael Gallagher’s Cap Videos
Cute videos taken by Amanda of Michael Gallagher’s Cap at home. Rock that Iphone!
Amanda: Pictures
Amanda’s albums:
http://picasaweb.google.com/ajmilliken/Switzerland#
http://picasaweb.google.com/ajmilliken/Ireland#
http://picasaweb.google.com/ajmilliken/EniscorthyMart#
Amanda: Finishing Up
The winner: Serge and Ellen, with Frank and Allistair Lyttle
We had a Swiss classic, Rosti, for supper, something to do with the great divide between the Swiss Francais and the Deutch. The Gerbers, were wonderful hosts, with their cute smart kids, Martina and Sylvan. I seem lucky that way. I don’t know why it is.
Very early this morning, Daniella took us halfway to Zurich, and Stephanie picked us up, with Alsidair Lyttle, for the final push to the airport. We had an unremarkable flight to Ireland, but the weather in Ireland is remarkable–the coldest November on record. These last couple of days have set new record lows for the dates at minus seven when we arrived in Dublin and snow everywhere, just like Switzerland. The drive down to Wexford was taxing, since the snow removal is not the most happening and why would it be? They hardly every have snow.
I have booked a hotel at the airport, me and Bev’s new bitch O’Dinn. I am bringing her home to Bev. I love Bev. The forecast is for more snow which will cripple the traffic here and I thought I would give myself the whole day to get to Dublin—my flight leaves at six Wednesday morning.
I am really looking forward to getting home to my beautiful dogs. But I am going to straighten up their pet passports so I can make a break for the UK sometime and go dog running, and maybe even on the continent.
Amanda: A Swiss Trial
Until yesterday. I have been a tourist. Maree and I took a trip to Berne with Sandra Huebli at the wheel. Maree likes hardware sorts of stores and I was hunting for a music box that played a Debussy tune. Frank was busy doing clinics all day every day. We met him in the evening wherever he was, with highly enjoyable peeks at Swiss living in the Emmanthaler (named for the great cheese). The first night we went to Carol Staehelin’s who had hosted the day’s clinic. There were some enthusiastic dog hands who ate a scrumptious Swiss meal, with potatoes done two ways for the Irish among us. Next day, Sandra drove us to Interlochen, for a real tourist day out, although too much cloud cover obscured the spectacular Alps from view. Sandra’s son is a full-blown chef in a hip village, not too far away and we all enjoyed a Swiss dining experience, Maree learning to make spaetzle.
Next day, Maree and I trained to Lausanne, my old school stomping ground, for Thursday. We bummed around. There wasn’t much to remind of my school days.
Yesterday I clerked for Frank at the trial, which was much more interesting . The hands were mostly from Italy and Switzerland, with a few Germans, Dutch, and Belgians. The scores were low. The course was big and snowy. The sheep were mixed breeds. Most ran out of time on the crossdrive, Only two or three finished. I missed Serge van deer Sweep’s winning run this morning as I was shopping for some new Wellingtons in nearby Lyss. He scored 96.
Daniel Brechbuehl's two-holed whistles
Everyone is so kind, and last night was no exception. We had another great repast at the home of Ruedi and Elizabeth Siegenthaler. They have inventive solar/wood heat systems that I covet.
A new trial started this afternoon. We have already seem a good run by the new continental champion, Urs imhof and his bitch Ela vom Bettmerhorn, with a 92. A Swiss. The trial continues tomorrow.
Here’s a video illustrating the colorful language of Italian dog handling.
Amanda: En Suisse
I am in Switzerland.
I overdosed on chocolate from a well-appointed confiserie at the airport. We were picked up at the airport by Danielle Gerber. I am not sure what the country was like through which we drove, since it was cloudy and dark and I fell asleep. It took a couple of hours to get to Heinz and Madeleine Stucki’s House to deliver a Gyp pup from Ireland. They had a beautiful house, timberframe, and fabulous smells coming out of the kitchen. Heinz spoke no English. Danielle is fluent, and Madeline spoke English, and I even tried French, which went surprisingly well. We had a great dinner, scalloped potatoes, cabbage with apples, delicious stew and–this was great–stewed chestnuts. We are headed back to Danielle’s and bed. Danielle has a mate to Bev Lambert’s new Irish bitch. Can’t wait to see her.
Editor’s Note: Bev Lambert has just purchased a new bitch from Ireland on the recommendation of her suicidal friend Amanda. Let it never be said that Amanda doesn’t go out of her way to help her competition beat her!
Amanda: Training and Judging
November 20
I would like to send pictures but the only place to unload them has dial up. Maybe they will have high speed in Switzerland and i can download a lot.
Frank took out all the dogs. His daughter Clare ran the beautiful Gyp and made music. Frank has lots of young dogs. I am happy to say that Don went left and right and stopped a few timed at twelve. When I come back, he will be a real dog. Toddy’s Sweep is a justifiably popular sire in this neck of the woods Good way with sheep, great outrunners and very biddable. Tomorrow I am judging a trial at Toddy Lamb’s.
November 21
The trial at Toddy’s was run on lambs. They were a little sulky and surprisingly panel shy. The cold rainy weather could not have helped their dampened spirits. The out run was about two hundred yards. The drive was two or three hundred yards. There was a split before the pen. The Irish structure their nurseries in two tiers, “A”and “B” dogs. The “A” dogs are the real juniors and when they place in the top three, must move up to the “B” class, where a shed is required. In addition there is a beginners class, much like our novice class, with one drive panel and back to the pen. Nursery dogs must be three years or younger by January 1st. Some of them were very good and capable of running Open. In fact some of them have run Open, and since they can run agewise in Nursery, they do. Kinda good insofar as they get a bit more experience in the off season, leading up to full on Open trials.
I judged the B class. There were a some great young dogs. Ned O’Keefe ran the winner in my class, Tess. His twelve-year-old son ran the same bitch in the beginner class for a smashing run. He was a spectacular combination of tiny and capable. I have never seen a little kid run like that. He was good. Toddy Lamb won the “A” class with Dusty, a dog he trains for Joe Ryan. I was very taken with bitch named Purdy, of all names, a small spirited black one. She ran well around the course under the direction of Martin Welsh and then they distinguished themselves spotting sheep under the trying circumstances of the beginner class. She drew a smile from more than one spectator. The trials were a lot like ours, with all the usual suspects doing all the same shenanigans only with an Irish sound. I got really cold, despite my best efforts to stay warm and the Rayburn looked very compelling, at the end of the day.
Amanda: More Dog Shopping
Last night, Maree had a spa night at the health place in Wexford. We
needed it. Today we continued with the purge but between lots, I took out Frank’s young Don and just got him to get behind his sheep a few times and
then put him away. Yesterday we took him to Toddy’s to take advantage
of his round pen, which only confused young Don. Toddy has a gang of
quieter sheep, which made easier for me. I always forget, from one
young dog to the next, how much running around there is at the
beginning–chaos, until you get a bit of order bestowed upon the job.
Maree and I took off in the afternoon for a couple of real errands and
then looked at the dogs at Ned O’Keeffe’s, at New Ross. He had a great
looking bitch just turned two, who already had won an open trial. I
have alerted my friend who is interested and we will see if it comes
together. I really went to look at a young dog, eight months old, but
he was just a bit too young for me. I need something ready to train
and this one was a galavanting young pup. The scenery on the way there was spectacular.