Megan's Dune Adventure

I had taken the dogs down to my uncle Jim's place for a little visita and to pick up a cart. I was excited to get to see him, my aunt Pam, my cousin Phillip, and the dogs again.

Thankfully, my parents live right en route 200 miles from home, so I was able to head to their place Wednesday night after work and head another 250 miles to the coast on Thursday. I'm also blessed that my mother has a good sense of humor, as Rogan decided to "point" her cat on her bed by pinning it to the pillow with his nose right as we were getting ready to leave.

For the record: North Bend and Coos Bay are a LONG way from anything but each other.

DAY ONE:

When I got there, Philip had just gotten home from school. Jim was at least as excited as I was to get the dogs out and put the cart on some sand, as within an hour we were back on the road headed out to the dunes. We went by a pulp or paper mill and stopped at a road heading into the sand.

I was wondering why we only had one cart, then Jim announced his surprise: he had a 6 dog gangline together and was planning to turn me loose with his 4 old sibes and my two pointers. It's sort of like your parents handing you the keys to the car for the first time- you're excited and terrified at the same time.

Jim's dogs really know what they're doing as they hauled him clear across Oregon in 1994, but they're not exactly young any more. The wheelers and the white swing dog were 11 and the grey swing dog was 13. The LAST thing I wanted was any of the "old geezers" getting hurt.

Of course, Jim has trained his team to considerable precision and I was sweating how my dogs would react to a totally new environment. They hadn't ever been to the beach- these were truly desert hounds, having been bred and raised in Eastern Washington, and I was fully expecting them to make a fool out of me within the first five minutes.

I needn't have worried. About Jim's dogs, that is.

I fumbled with the extra lines and harnesses and helped get everyone installed, then before I knew it we were off. I had to stop within the first 50 feet to get 15 month old Rogan untangled from his neckline, but other than that things were going smoothly. Jim had told me to hang a left onto the sea wall road and keep going until we got to the wreck of the New Carissa. He had also told me to get them in a large patch of water off to the side of the trail after the first curve.

The cart was trundling along nicely through mushy sand, all 6 dogs keeping their lines tight. Even though they'd never met each other, they weren't interested in screwing around- everyone knew their job, even my two who normally only run by themselves. The sun was shining, I could smell and hear the waves, the scenery seemed to go on forever...

Where the heck is that puddle????? I couldn't figure out what Jim was talking about for the life of me. There had been a small patch of water surrounded by vegetation on the other side of a berm, but surely he hadn't meant THAT.

We took a few breaks along the way to make sure the geezers didn't overheat. Their tongues were hanging out and they were universally panting hard. The young pointers were panting a little, but recovered noticeably faster. WHERE is that darn water???

Before I knew it, we had come upon the wreck. I could see it over the sea wall and there were plenty of tracks heading up over and dropping onto the beach, so we gave it a shot.

Dulcie and Rogan immediately lost the last 3 brain cells they possessed between them.

They didn't know WHAT to make of the surf, but all the sandpipers running around in it were just too much. There had been a very large surf the previous few days and dead jellyfish were lying around all over, and I knew what our next adventure would entail (imagine puking dogs for 250 miles in the back of a SUV the next day).

I turned the team around, took advantage of the photo op in front of the tanker wreck, and sent the dogs back up over the sea wall. It was a little steep and the sand was deep, but everyone pulled like they should have. I even stopped them to get a shot- the power and control of these two sets of dogs together was amazing.

We were now headed back, but Two Crows- the big black wheeler- was definitely starting to look worse for no water. Jim had told me to watch out for him overheating, and sure enough, his throat was open and he was panting for all it was worth. I could see that there was water in a bushy section below a berm opposite the sea wall, so I pulled a desperation move: I stopped the dogs, told them to lie down, unhooked Two Crows, and leading him with a few spare necklines walked him down to the water.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH......" Whatever nonsense people say about sibes not liking water, Two Crows hadn't been told- he was visibly relieved to lie in the 6 inches of twigs and grass under 12 inches of water.

Our peace was quickly interrupted, however.

I looked up at the road, only to see Dulcie and Rogan standing on the berm trying to see what was going on, with their 3 cohorts in crime behind them. "DOWN! DULCIE, DOWN!!!"

I won't tell what I said as Dulcie and Rogan led their unmanned craft down the embankment and into scrubby pines and berry bushes.

Fortunately, the grass and brush had slowed the cart down and everyone just came to a halt when it started to head away from Two Crows and I and the dogs were pointed at us. The gangline was a little tangled in a pine sapling.

Once I got Two Crows hitched back up, the lines straight, and the cart turned around, I simply headed them all for the water hole. I figured they could use it anyway as long as we were already down there. Everyone got to lie down and lap water for a moment, then they easily popped the cart back up the embankment onto the road and trundled back to the truck.

I decided it was no use trying to hide our stupidity, so I just blurted out what had happened to Jim. "You're SUPPOSED to just drive them through that stuff! Hey, you old farts went faster with those two young dogs in front today...."

*Whew*

Back at home we had a wonderful dinner. I admitted while it was cooking that we didn't often go cruising in 6" berry bushes with the cart, as a 2 dog team would have a struggle with it. Jim and Pam were sympathetic, but they giggled. They added a few choice stories of their own.

Pam had some beautiful burgundy velour yarn she was knitting into a vest. We spent a good chunk of the evening just untangling it for her while Philip supervised. She's a smart lady- I wouldn't be surprised at all that she had planned it to keep Jim and I out of trouble.

DAY 2:

My truck was supposed to go to Les Schwab that morning for tires, but Pam warned us not to say anything too loud- apparently Philip was going to be sorely disappointed if he found out he had to go to school while we went to "Lester's".

Jim just chained my dogs in the back of the truck with the crew when we left so we could run dogs while my truck was in. They still pretty much ignored each other as we headed out to Horse Falls, which seems typical for harness working dogs when they know they're going to run. Kai, the bald- faced wheeler, took the opportunity to taste test the tieoff rope wound around the driving bow... which prompted a significant outburst of Jim's wrath through the back pickup window. Kai didn't seem particularly repentant, but he did leave off the rope.

I accidentally hooked Dulcie to a neckline instead of a tug line while we were putting everything together. Jim started muttering about cheechakos (translated "greenhorns" for those not familiar with Alaska), and I think my face turned red- I knew better but had been in a hurry. Jim loaded us up with a few plastic bags to clean up trash while we were out there and sent us on our way with some instructions on a possible route that left me even more confused. Oh well, the weather was beautiful- a nice day to get lost, I figured.

Following his advice from the day before I geed the dogs over into the first water hole I could find. Apparently the wind picks up the sand from behind the sea wall and deposits it much further back into the actual dunes, making a low- lying area thick with grass, kinnick-kinnick, cranberry, and scrub pine... and significant pools of brackish water.

Getting braver with this very controllable team, I spied a road of sorts in this deflated area and decided to head out onto it. As it turns out, this was the "all- weather" road as Jim calls it. I guess "all weather" includes severe flooding, as most of it was under water. We had an adventure getting back out to the sea wall road, but we did it. All the dogs were putting everything into their harness and working honestly for the dork behind them on the cart.

Ever had to walk in loose sand with carhartts soaked to your knees? Ever waded in carhartts? I've got a great idea for anyone that wants to market a new aerobic exercise....

We went a little farther and I made an abortive attempt to cross the wall onto the beach, then backtracked to a good trail through the wall I'd seen before.

Sure enough, Dulcie and Rogan were having a hard enough time paying attention in front of new dogs in a new place, but the open beach fried all their mental circuits once again. I chickened out and headed back for the road. Crossing the sea wall, we found some garbage and started filling up a sack.

As we were headed back, we ran into Jim cleaning up garbage as well. Then he invited us to go back through the brush and water to a specific area in the dunes.

Dulcie's ears suddenly fell off for all intents and purposes. Here was my bold, stubborn little leader having to get drug along by Jim. Nuts.... why couldn't he have seen how she expertly lead the team through the brush and swamp off the "all-weather" road? <sigh>

Jim directed us to a post to tie off to so the dogs could take safe break, and we climbed a dune and looked across a small bowl and the dunes beyond. He was clearly a master of this environment- everything looked the same to me, but he was pointing out landmarks in every direction.

Finally, he suggested we head south east through a large bowl he had mentioned earlier. We gave him a good head start, then trundled after him.

Whether the driver was a Cheechako or a plain ol' idiot is debatable. We lost him almost immediately. However, we did come across another set of dog tracks that looked promising- they looked like they were headed in a general southerly direction back to the parking lot. I thought they might have been Jim's tracks from a previous day at first, but the cart tires had a different tread pattern.

Finally I stopped the dogs in an open area below some very large dunes and climbed on top to see if I could spot Jim wearing his bright red coat. Nothing appeared when I climbed a dune with a good view to the west and the ocean. I thought I heard a shout, so I tried yelling back, but didn't get a response.

Nice day to get lost indeed.

I then decided to climb another dune behind me so I could look to the east. I crested the hill and Jim was right there in the bowl he had talked about. I thought later I should have gotten a picture of him standing there, but trust me- I KNEW I was an idiot at that point. So did he I'm sure. If a picture is worth a thousand words, it's probably good that I left that one out.

The team easily climbed the dune and swung by Jim as he walked towards the south side, and he pointed out the ATV road would become obvious as we went through. He also gave me the keys to the truck so I could water the dogs when we got back.

On our return jaunt, I accidentally made the only wise decision of the previous 48 hours: I ran the dogs through one last puddle just before we headed into the truck, which gave them a chance to really cool off. I think Jim was a little surprised when he came back to discover my brain had any use beyond keeping my ears apart.

The truck was ready when we came back, so I followed him home and started gathering everything up for the 5 hour drive back to my parent's place.

The nice thing about being related is that even if you're the stupidest Cheechako on the planet, you still have each other's best interests in mind. Jim loaded me up with harnesses, dog coats, ganglines, and about a million dog boots. I couldn't and still can't thank him enough, especially for the boots- we go through a lot of them. He also gave me 4 leather collars with brass bells on them that made the dogs sound like something out of a Scandinavian fairytale. I plan on having some fun with those. :)

We loaded the cart on top of my rig and cinched it down every way we could think of. Fortunately a storm was coming in from the southwest and pushed me most of the way home.

*********************

What can I say? I'm really glad Jim gave us this unique opportunity to try driving dogs in the dunes. His team worked hard but was entirely controllable, making this adventure possible. If anyone wants to give it a shot, I'd say plan well... your training WILL be tested, as there's nothing to tie down to when you stop, few clear trails to follow, and it's an entirely different environment for most sled dogs.

Jim has been a great mentor, encouraging and challenging me at the same time, and providing a visible benchmark for performance in his own dogs.

Just wait until I get him lost in the snowy mountains of the central Casacdes... he'll look like a real Cheechako. :)