Amanda: a note from the dead zone
On Tuesday, the running began in the rain. There were strange patterns of weather all around us and Dorey could hear nothing but thunder from somewhere. She ran like a stranger. All her flanks were hesitant, all her stops late. Thunder phobia is a vice that gets you eventually and Tuesday was Dorey’s day.
The weather remained oppressive all day with occasional breaks in otherwise uncharacteristically heavy rain. It is a desert here, for heaven’s sake. Sage brush and cactus.
After a disturbing USBCHA director’s meeting on Tuesday night, I was not myself. Poisoned. I ran Howell in the morning. He ran out beautifully and brought them well, and then I drove the fetch, to conclude his Nursery career. He will just have to be a good Open dog.
The sheep have been difficult and pretty even with a few sorry draws with a single offending runner. For the most part, they were uniformly difficult and no pens were ever easy.
Thank goodness for my crowd of friends. I don’t know what I would have done without them. Wednesday night, Joni and Blake Tietjen found the new restaurant that the chef had opened, replacing his former good one in downtown Carbondale from a few years ago. Carbpndale is finals town with all the accoutrements except good cell service and wifi. Whole Foods is about three miles away with a big Starbucks next door (not that we need that, our coffee is better). We have wined and dined with a very effective camp and endlessly good supplies. Mary Minor and Sandara Massie brought a tent that has civilized our outdoor activities. The barbecue has been very lively. The parking people call us the South Beach community.
Today was the final day of four days of preliminary running. Monty ran well enough to secure him a spot in the semi-finals tomorrow. Lots of cautious hands with decent runs, have played it safe at the pen and not tried. I went for it. Monty took it like a pro. He ran quite fluidly today, talking to me the whole way around. He is up thirty-ninth tomorrow.