Sunday, January 6, 2008
Entering the world of Tracking.... or not...
Today was a big day for me.
One of my goals for the new year was to teach my puppy how to track. I would love for her to be able to follow the scent to find a glove my son dropped. I got online and found a group of tracking people, one of whom informed me there was a tracking test this weekend at a location less than an hour's drive from me. Yippee! I could see dogs tracking and hopefully meet some people to help me in this journey.
Last night I had dreams about tracking, meeting wonderful people, sitting around a table discussing our dogs and dog sports.
This morning I got up early, ready to see a tracking test in action. It started at 9 so I planned to leave at 8. I decided to bring my Giant Schnauzer Atlas along for moral support. (Besides, what kind of an idiot goes to a tracking test without a dog?) Then I realized if I took Atlas, I'd have to take the puppy Phoebe. At the last minute, my 5-yr. old son Gabe also wanted to go, so we all jumped in the car and off we went.
Since Gabe had decided to come at the last minute, he hadn't had breakfast yet. My job was to find him something to eat without delaying us too much. I was looking for Wendy's, but the one we passed was closed. I realized it was pretty hopeless as we arrived at what I assumed was our destination, the empty fields of Wisconsin. There weren't going to be any Wendy's around here. Is there anything worse than a hungry 5-yr. old?
There was a very dense fog and I couldn't find the road to turn onto. According to mapquest, it should have been 3.5 miles after I turned onto highway B. There were several roads to turn onto, each with a name different than the one I was looking for, but I tried them anyway. Mapquest has never been wrong like this before! I drove all the way back to where I turned onto Highway B, reset my trip odometer and measured out exactly 3.5 miles-- there was no road to turn onto which I hadn't already checked. It was already 10 minutes after the tracking test was supposed to have started.
I realized I didn't need a tracking dog so much as I needed GPS.
I did what any normal adult would do in this situation-- I called my mommy. "Mom, does GPS work in heavy fog?" "Yes, I think so... why? Isn't your GPS working?" "No Mom, I don't have GPS and I'm gonna kill my husband if he doesn't get it for me..." I ended up talking to my stepdad who tried to navigate me long-distance with a teeny-tiny map. There weren't any locals to ask. No churches or people anywhere. My stepdad Bruce told me to keep heading east, which I was doing, and hallelujah! There was a town, with real people in it.
I stopped at the gas station to fill my famished youngster and ask for directions. After buying a can of Pringles and a sleeve of Donettes for Gabe, I asked the young cashier where this mystery road was. "Uh, I think it's back that way..." she said, not too helpfully. "Oh wait, that guy over there's been here his whole life, he'll know how to get there..."
Sure enough, the tall man knew exactly where the road was and gave excruciatingly detailed directions to get there. I guess he wanted to make sure I didn't get lost again. "Go into town. Turn left at the stoplight. Not the first stoplight, but the second one, that's really in the middle of the town. You're going to take Rte. 67 past the old Pick-and-Save and then turn right. You're going to go past Highway K, Peters Road, and then you'll come to the road. You can't miss it, it's at the top of a hill and there's a little creek going through just before it." I can't remember even 1/4 of what he told me, but I figured I had the important points and I'd best be heading on. It was now 20 minutes after nine, and I wondered how much I had missed.
A very kind woman followed me out to the car. "Are you sure you can make it?" she asked. "I live down that way, and you can follow me if you need help." "Oh thank you, I'm sure I can find it!" I said enthusiastically. I realized that the puppy had been riding in the car for over an hour and I had better offer both dogs a potty break.
As I opened the rear hatch of the minivan, I grabbed at Phoebe's collar and told Atlas to "Wait." Atlas is very good about waiting in the car until I get a leash on him. Normally. This time he jumped out and trotted right over to a man walking by and sniffed him. One thing I have to say for Cheez-heads: it takes more than a big black dog to scare them! I got Phoebe's leash on and grabbed Atlas.
After both dogs had relieved themselves, I returned to the back of my minivan. Phoebe has a tendency to get carsick and today was no exception-- a big pile of pre-digested dog kibble awaited. Oh well, there'd be time to clean it up later.
The fog was as thick as marshmallow fluff and I wondered if I'd ever find this place. I was exactly one hour late by the time I finally arrived, but I was ecstatic just to have found it. I grabbed Atlas and Gabe, leaving the puppy behind in the van, and went looking for the trackers. We walked to the back of the house, peering into the fields around. I couldn't see or hear anyone. Hmm...
We came around to the front of the house, and a woman appeared from the front door and told me that the tracking had been suspended due to the fog. Everyone was waiting in the house. "With their dogs?" I asked curiously. "No, the dogs are all in the cars." So I left Atlas in the car and headed with Gabe into the house.
There's nothing like walking into a group of, say, 20 people I've never met before, who are doing something I know nothing about. Trying not to make a fool of myself. Praying that someone would say something--anything to me. I suppose nearly everyone in the group was equally shy, because nobody said a word to me. If only I could figure out whose house it was, and find the guy who invited me to come!
It seemed like forever (probably a couple of minutes) before a woman looked at me with my little boy in tow and asked if I was here to track. I explained my story and slowly people warmed up. Mostly I sat and listened to others as Gabe crawled around me as only a 5-yr. old can do. Finally, they announced that we were ready to start the first track, and anyone who wanted to watch-- if that was possible with the thick fog--should follow along.
We had to drive to get to the first track. A row of cars took off following the leader. At one point I couldn't see the car's tail lights in front of me, but then they reappeared at a stop sign. The lady jumped out of her car and motioned to me. "Which way did they go?" she asked. I had no idea, I could barely even see her car in all this fog! She turned left, and I decided to turn around and go home. If I couldn't see the car in front of me, I wasn't going to see much of any dogs tracking. It was already 11 AM as I headed for home.
Tracking is sure a lot harder than I thought.
One of my goals for the new year was to teach my puppy how to track. I would love for her to be able to follow the scent to find a glove my son dropped. I got online and found a group of tracking people, one of whom informed me there was a tracking test this weekend at a location less than an hour's drive from me. Yippee! I could see dogs tracking and hopefully meet some people to help me in this journey.
Last night I had dreams about tracking, meeting wonderful people, sitting around a table discussing our dogs and dog sports.
This morning I got up early, ready to see a tracking test in action. It started at 9 so I planned to leave at 8. I decided to bring my Giant Schnauzer Atlas along for moral support. (Besides, what kind of an idiot goes to a tracking test without a dog?) Then I realized if I took Atlas, I'd have to take the puppy Phoebe. At the last minute, my 5-yr. old son Gabe also wanted to go, so we all jumped in the car and off we went.
Since Gabe had decided to come at the last minute, he hadn't had breakfast yet. My job was to find him something to eat without delaying us too much. I was looking for Wendy's, but the one we passed was closed. I realized it was pretty hopeless as we arrived at what I assumed was our destination, the empty fields of Wisconsin. There weren't going to be any Wendy's around here. Is there anything worse than a hungry 5-yr. old?
There was a very dense fog and I couldn't find the road to turn onto. According to mapquest, it should have been 3.5 miles after I turned onto highway B. There were several roads to turn onto, each with a name different than the one I was looking for, but I tried them anyway. Mapquest has never been wrong like this before! I drove all the way back to where I turned onto Highway B, reset my trip odometer and measured out exactly 3.5 miles-- there was no road to turn onto which I hadn't already checked. It was already 10 minutes after the tracking test was supposed to have started.
I realized I didn't need a tracking dog so much as I needed GPS.
I did what any normal adult would do in this situation-- I called my mommy. "Mom, does GPS work in heavy fog?" "Yes, I think so... why? Isn't your GPS working?" "No Mom, I don't have GPS and I'm gonna kill my husband if he doesn't get it for me..." I ended up talking to my stepdad who tried to navigate me long-distance with a teeny-tiny map. There weren't any locals to ask. No churches or people anywhere. My stepdad Bruce told me to keep heading east, which I was doing, and hallelujah! There was a town, with real people in it.
I stopped at the gas station to fill my famished youngster and ask for directions. After buying a can of Pringles and a sleeve of Donettes for Gabe, I asked the young cashier where this mystery road was. "Uh, I think it's back that way..." she said, not too helpfully. "Oh wait, that guy over there's been here his whole life, he'll know how to get there..."
Sure enough, the tall man knew exactly where the road was and gave excruciatingly detailed directions to get there. I guess he wanted to make sure I didn't get lost again. "Go into town. Turn left at the stoplight. Not the first stoplight, but the second one, that's really in the middle of the town. You're going to take Rte. 67 past the old Pick-and-Save and then turn right. You're going to go past Highway K, Peters Road, and then you'll come to the road. You can't miss it, it's at the top of a hill and there's a little creek going through just before it." I can't remember even 1/4 of what he told me, but I figured I had the important points and I'd best be heading on. It was now 20 minutes after nine, and I wondered how much I had missed.
A very kind woman followed me out to the car. "Are you sure you can make it?" she asked. "I live down that way, and you can follow me if you need help." "Oh thank you, I'm sure I can find it!" I said enthusiastically. I realized that the puppy had been riding in the car for over an hour and I had better offer both dogs a potty break.
As I opened the rear hatch of the minivan, I grabbed at Phoebe's collar and told Atlas to "Wait." Atlas is very good about waiting in the car until I get a leash on him. Normally. This time he jumped out and trotted right over to a man walking by and sniffed him. One thing I have to say for Cheez-heads: it takes more than a big black dog to scare them! I got Phoebe's leash on and grabbed Atlas.
After both dogs had relieved themselves, I returned to the back of my minivan. Phoebe has a tendency to get carsick and today was no exception-- a big pile of pre-digested dog kibble awaited. Oh well, there'd be time to clean it up later.
The fog was as thick as marshmallow fluff and I wondered if I'd ever find this place. I was exactly one hour late by the time I finally arrived, but I was ecstatic just to have found it. I grabbed Atlas and Gabe, leaving the puppy behind in the van, and went looking for the trackers. We walked to the back of the house, peering into the fields around. I couldn't see or hear anyone. Hmm...
We came around to the front of the house, and a woman appeared from the front door and told me that the tracking had been suspended due to the fog. Everyone was waiting in the house. "With their dogs?" I asked curiously. "No, the dogs are all in the cars." So I left Atlas in the car and headed with Gabe into the house.
There's nothing like walking into a group of, say, 20 people I've never met before, who are doing something I know nothing about. Trying not to make a fool of myself. Praying that someone would say something--anything to me. I suppose nearly everyone in the group was equally shy, because nobody said a word to me. If only I could figure out whose house it was, and find the guy who invited me to come!
It seemed like forever (probably a couple of minutes) before a woman looked at me with my little boy in tow and asked if I was here to track. I explained my story and slowly people warmed up. Mostly I sat and listened to others as Gabe crawled around me as only a 5-yr. old can do. Finally, they announced that we were ready to start the first track, and anyone who wanted to watch-- if that was possible with the thick fog--should follow along.
We had to drive to get to the first track. A row of cars took off following the leader. At one point I couldn't see the car's tail lights in front of me, but then they reappeared at a stop sign. The lady jumped out of her car and motioned to me. "Which way did they go?" she asked. I had no idea, I could barely even see her car in all this fog! She turned left, and I decided to turn around and go home. If I couldn't see the car in front of me, I wasn't going to see much of any dogs tracking. It was already 11 AM as I headed for home.
Tracking is sure a lot harder than I thought.
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