Today is quiet and in between. I run dogs here in Cranbrook this morning, stock up and head south to Utah. The coffee is waking up just from the smell. The Blossom Dearie, dulcet. Bev and I stayed over, after a dining at Cranbrook’s schnitzel house in the entertaining company of Kristi Oikawa.

The trial featured two competitions so some of the group shots you see may be those running only for the Canadian championships, like Bev and I or others who ran for the Western Canadian Championships.



The first gather to right was straightforward, with very few dogs needed insurance redirects, spotted with horses, so very visible. The trick was, that the horse remained visible when the dogs were sent back for the second gather. Most settled on the first horse, with a cross following shortly afterwards, only a couple of dogs going back cleanly. The second gather was blind and long way back with the spotting horse buried in a swale. The sheep remained a good test throughout the trial, demanding authority and control, to move around the course. The morning started off very cool and deteriorated to hot by noon. The afternoon dogs were disadvantaged but still produced the winner late in the day, Scott Glen and Don.



On Saturday afternoon I took a spectacular break from the dog running to go fly fishing on the St Mary’s River. The scenery was breath taking. I was guided on a rafting trip starting at St Mary’s Lake and floating miles downstream, fly rod in hand. I snagged a couple of merry little cutthroats, and there was lots of swirling activity on my fly. I missed the handlers’ dinner. As regrettable as that may have been, it was worth it. What a trip.



The long trip to Utah is underway. The part through Montana was enjoyable this time with all is vistas, its bright mountain lakes and rushing rivers, looking like places you would like to stop and stay for while. I am Utah bound. A couple of days at Shauna Gourley’s, and onto Soldier Hollow.

Something in Heather’s interblog caught my attention “for those of you green with envy” Don’t be envious. The trip I am on is brute. I have covered 5000 kilometers. I have been tired and run down. I try to focus on my dogs and running them, which is what I am here to do. However, I started a course of prednisone for some runaway poison ivy, last Friday night. It is a very harsh drug to take. An addling drug.

The drive from Bowman North Dakota was about 17 hours. I rode I95 Until I tucked north on the west side Glacier National Park. The scenery was breathtaking under normal circumstances but the turquoise lakes and rivers had a hard time rising above my road weariness and generating some enthusiasm. When I crossed the border, into my home and native land, it felt like nowhere was home. Feist was restless. All the other dogs were fatigued and indifferent. I tried to stop in Cranbrook for some supplies but my rig was hopeless on the streets, (it is so big) I gave up and headed out to the trial site.



What a fantastic setting. I am now embarrassed to say it took me until the next morning to see the extreme beauty. Chemistry can be a bitch.

The rockies are draped all around us in a steady backdrop of picturesque. We are comfortably parked on an irrigated alfalfa field which some thoughtful person has recently irrigated to make less dust for us. Us. The sheepdog obsessive compulsives. The surrounding ground is honey coloured pasture, that supports Hereford cattle. There are beautiful walks in many directions that loosen up tension ridden dogs and people. Every day, when these people get up, they must hug themselves for the beauty that greets their morning



The sheep were remarkably consistent, mostly Columbian, yearling finewools. They have made a good test, demanding dogs to take them everywhere on the unfamiliar course and asking to be put in the pen, never just going. They push dogs everywhere, enforcer required. They came from a Hutterite colony in Alberta, so not a straight forward undertaking by any means. The field is about a four hundred yard outrun with 150 yards drives. The turn at the post is tight to the spectator fence, causing problems. Those who had trouble with them will be rethinking their interest in moving on to the big trials down south, in Utah and Colorado, where the sheep will be similar, but moreso.



The Gellings lead the first trial go through, Jean, with her dependable Star and husband Dennis taking up the second spot with Jan. Roz was called for grip at the pen. Clive continues to be in with a good go around the course. Beverly is still happening with at least Hemp and maybe Awel. The open running continues in the morning. All the open dogs were run yesterday. This morning hald the second open run was done, followed by the first go of the Nursery. Dorey leads the Nursery by three points. She was her gorgeous self. The balance of the open dogs will run tomorrow morning, deciding who runs in the double lift. And the second go of the Nursery will decide the Nursery champion. Sunday is our championship double lift day.

Editor’s Note: Amanda might be off line for a day or two as she travels, and she wanted to make sure everyone was properly entertained. So here’s some appropriate multimedia for your listening and viewing pleasure.

First, here’s John Denver singing Wild Montana Skies.

We also have Willie Nelson, On the Road Again

And for everyone who isn’t already purple with jealousy over this trip, here are some pictures of dogs swimming at the Slash J.

Amanda will be back soon to entertain us all!

Feist is a perfect road rider. She entertains the older bitches wrestling on the back seat. She has toys that command her attention when all else lets her down. She accepts the breaks without exuberance that might lead to risky behaviour, just cheerful and happy. She wants back in the truck when the break is concluded. She revels in the brief interludes of sheep activity but leaves it freely, confident that her life will have lots of sheep in it soon. She meets new dogs and usually gets them in a high spirited game. Everything is a happy adventure. Bad behaviours like chewing my shoes, are swiftly replaced with good ones, like chewing her toys. She learns so much, so fast. I had questioned myself about bringing her. But it doesn’t seem we should be apart.

Joni and I worked dogs in the early morning. The heat has come on in the mid day, so as to make dog running unappealing. The outruns were complicated by the presence of Joni’s big black cows and calves on one side and the test to a dog’s redirect commitments was made. Success was of the eventual variety. I like to have mistakes like that happen and be corrected, in settings other than trials. Joni is a hard-working dog hand with a fleet of interesting youngsters. I would have trouble moving from dog to dog and leaving the problems of the last one with the last one. She is succeeding, where I could only train one.

We are trying the local Mexican today. I am doing some laundry, kinda like a wagon train picking up momentum before it embarks across the desert, water, supplies, rested up. Tomorrow night I start the long ride to Cranbrook, taking me through Montana.

My drive to Bowman was slow and tedious with a couple of notable exceptions. I have crossed the Mississippi in many settings, in Louisiana, Memphis , La Crosse. It a western trip’s milestone. The mark. The river of so many legends, so storied, so sung about, so much beauty of lore. I made the error of following the garmin’s directions into the St. Paul Whole foods Market for supplies. The trip might have been ok in a car but with a thirty seven foot rig it was a nightmare, through surprisingly small streets. I always expect northern cities will have big streets to accommodate the winter snow. Not St. Paul. It had stuck to the horse-and-buggy-sized streets that it got from its forefathers. Quaint but awkward for me. I turned a forgettable corner but the sight that presented itself was anything but forgettable—I was on the bridge over the shining Mississippi, stopped in the sunlight. There was some kind of fund raising walk in the oncoming lane and cops had stopped the traffic. There it was, with the view of the swirling dark water, not muddy here, with all its hopefulness of motion, its bold ride to the gulf, past and bridges spanning it and the big bluffs. None of the walkers appeared to acknowledge its glory. They seemed to be discussing fundraising. But I was star struck.

The sign marking the continental divide is a quiet affirmation of progress. The land gave way from intense cropping and occasional livestock to big herds of black cows, some mega flocks of sheep and miles of blooming sunflowers, a startling crop to see full frontal. I have never made a secret of my enthusiasm for the prairies. I have a favoured painting in my office—a prairie landscape, a field of blooming flax. Yesterday, I rounded a bend in I94 and there was the flax field, cool, blue and waving gently in the light wind. I took a picture with my phone that cannot possibly do its beauty justice. But maybe you can get the idea.





I pulled into Joni Swanke’s to a trio of dog enthusiasts thrashing out basics with some youngsters. Shannon Fritz, and Jan Stebbins. I turned loose Feist for a little entertainment.

The dogs were free and relaxed and we happy houred it, and had a great dinner that included tomatoes, surreptitiously entering the United States, from my own garden.

This morning we got twenty fresh rambouillet lambs for some high powered dog running.

Two great things today. The Chicago skyline was a wonderful inspiration. What a great looking city, buzzing next to the big lake. I suppose it needs the bumper to bumper traffic to support the inspired skyline.The guys at home got a wolf. They sent a picture of it. That’ll make me and the guard dogs happy. If they could just get fifteen more maybe the slaughter would end.

Lots of driving but the sky is getting bigger. First stop for me is chez Joni Swanke.

(Editor’s note: Nothing beats a young Joni Mitchell!)

I am trying to organize for west. I spent Saturday toiling in my garden to catch up for time lost during Kingston. I do not have to imagine what the weeds will be like in five weeks when I come back. I know they will be fantastic. But I seeded new arugula, lettuce, peas , beets, spinach, bok choy, anything with a taste for frost. I slow roasted a few trays of tomatoes and froze them. All the usual rushed things I could spend a month doing if I just stayed home. So many details commanding attention when you leave a busy farm.

But this is my sport. I have to be in it. Someone wrote today, describing Kingston Sheep Dog Trials as “summer theater”. We are all the players. Good one.

I will start off on Wednesday night, passing Toronto in the comfort of late evening, with four dogs. Clive and Roz are my main runners. Monty has gone to Barbara Ray for the fall, to have a crack at the big ticket dog items before us. Dorey is my Nursery runner. I will be challenged to keep her happy and occupied for a full month on the road. She just turned two. There isn’t much for Nursery dogs to do at Meeker or Soldier Hollow. At home she can hang, garden, chew, dig, and be a dog. The road is full of constraints for a youngster, even if they have done it before. I will bring my bicycle and try to give them a good run each day but some how, it doesn’t change the wearisome quality of road life. Feist, my twelve week old, is coming , to charm me and to help the pup become a road warrior. Sheep dog handling makes road riders of us.


If I don’t sound enthusiastic, it’s because I am not. The driving. And my home is loved. Beverly Lambert is a week ahead of me. I see she is not blogging so I will have to take over reporting for her. Maybe my writing for her will make her so anxious she will take over for herself.

I had a long twenty four hours of travel, a milk run to Ottawa from Regina.
The drive up from Plentywood, Montana in the morning was gorgeous but the Regina plains looked like rice paddies. They might better take up that crop this year if they could. I had a couple of hours to kill in the morning, so I checked out the MacKenzie Art Gallery in Regina and a couple of small galleries. I am a complete fan of the prairies. Home was reached at three a.m. and it never looked better.

The Dakota trials were ones to which I would gladly go back, given the opportunity. The extremity of them was a marvel. The outruns were colossal. I don’t know how such space could be found here. And of course the sheep were very demanding of any dog encountering them. For uninitiated eastern dogs, a shock. Without travel to such places, I don’t know how you could get the experience. The western fine wools get doggy easily. By the last day of Slash J, they had become quite civilized compared to day one, never easy, but significantly tamed down. Besides that they would die around here of foot rot or wet weather, they never stay crisp, like they were at the onset of the trial. The weather played a huge rule in the outcome of the trial. If the wind came up, there was very little chance of successfully handling through it. I loved getting my dogs on them. Each of them knows more for having been there.

All these people hosting these trials, Rene LeBree, Joni Swanke, Tom Kok, Barb Ross, Gloria and Harry Kerr, work hard at keeping people entertained and provided with high sport.
Some more pictures from the trip:
Wild Dakota Sky
Slash J 2011
Big One 2011

I hate having to win by weather but I suppose it could have worked against me too. I ran second. The wind came up with a vengeance and no one else really could make it.

Prairie Fire!

Didn’t get as warm as yesterday, I think, and there was a strong wind at our backs all day. The running was very good on the smaller course with at least one score in the 90s and many scores in the 80s. Alas, none of them were mine.

I wasn’t disappointed with how either of my dogs worked. A pen would have gotten Nel in the double lift and Hemp was a good boy with poor steering on my part costing us the fetch gate. So tomorrow I will be spotting sheep for my friends in the double lift.

I missed a lot of the running as I arranged to buy a dozen sheep in Bowman at the livestock auction. This involved a lot of to-ing and fro-ing. I’m going to stay out here for an extra week and train my dogs on my new sheep. Then Joni has offered to sell the sheep for me. Sure is nice in places where people actually keep sheep. I’m looking forward to getting Joe and Odinn up to full speed. I have Odinn entered in the rest of this season’s trials and I want to try and get our teamwork smoothed out after her long layoff with her injured toe.

I hope someone posts who is in the final. I’m afraid the only ones I know are Jean and Dennis Gellings, Joni, Alison, Bud and Ron. They are running back fifteen so I’m missing a bunch. Sorry to be such a poor reporter. I did manage to get my new puppy picked out so my day wasn’t a total bust. Pictures to follow tomorrow.