Summer's coming...
Changing rhythms and, best of all: sheepdog trials
Here on the Isle of Wight, we live according to many rhythms. There are the four seasons of course, plus the daily tides and winds that affect where we walk. If it is high tide, we stick to the paved Esplanade and watch for rogue waves crashing and splashing over the walkway. If it is low tide, we are teased by the vast expanse of sand to walk closer to the sea.
But there are other particular-to-the-Island rhythms we have learned as well, most of which stem from this being a popular tourist and holiday destination. Ensuring the Island is ‘visitor-friendly’ is of paramount importance to the economy.
For example, ongoing maintenance of the two-lane road network winding around the Island is one of our local Council’s most visible activities. During the winter months ALL the roads get torn up for the usual reasons: potholes, electric and gas utility upgrades, replacing/fixing water mains, ‘improved’ roundabouts, etc. We get notice for the biggest jobs that will take days or weeks of diversions, but almost every time we go out there is a new surprise where the road has been suddenly torn up. Sometimes it is just for a few hours, often it is for a few days. Unless it is an emergency repair: those happen late at night at the top of our street, with loud jackhammers, bright lights and shouting.
In the summer, they stop fixing the roads, whew! The tourists arrive hourly by the ferry-load in three locations; the roads are jammed and it’s slow to traverse anywhere again. Pete has named these two seasons “Can’t drive” and “Shouldn’t drive”. Luckily for us we don’t need to drive daily, blithely ignoring a lot of the mess. We do need to cross the Island to visit and take meals to Pete’s mum twice a week so we do get our small ‘tasters’. My mantra is that the diversions have been an opportunity to learn about many new roads and alternate ways to cross the Island.
As the spring warms up, the older adult Coach/bus tour groups from across northern UK and Europe arrive, followed by the school groups, all seeking sun (my Spanish friends will chortle at the idea of this).
Starting with Easter Break, through periodic school holidays, and the six-week-long summer break, numbers on the Island swell and we increasingly zig-zag through flocks of tourists on our daily walk down the Esplanade. Now there are long queues for ice cream, and the arcades and mini-golf courses are filled with joyous noise and activity.
It is wonderful to see all the restaurants and attractions open up again, and to see people smiling as they enjoy their annual jolly holiday. Now the striped awning chairs come out with bright umbrellas and wind-breaks. Pale pink skin splays on clean beach towels. Kids run in excited circles waving shovels and banging light plastic buckets against their knees. The older visitors are darker and wrinklier, happily absorbed in books. The teens run into the water with barely anything on, screaming when they first encounter the very cold water, but stay in anyway to romp with their friends.
This time of year means all the special events organised for tourists start piling up, including the major ones like the Round the Island Sailing Race, the famous Isle of Wight Music Festival, Garlic Festival, Ventnor Fringe, Scooter Rally, and so much more.
We spent this past Sunday at one of the smaller events—the Isle of Wight Sheepdog trials, one of my personal favourites—which was every bit as wonderful as last year. For those of you who missed it, here is a description of what happens at the Trials:
Watching dogs and sheep
Once again, the weather was glorious, and we soaked up the opportunity to sit in the grass with the sun and a gentle breeze.
We arrived after a good many runs had been completed. The first six contestants we saw couldn’t get their sheep into the pen before time was called, and several of them missed getting their sheep through one of the three gates entirely. There were some very feisty sheep, and perhaps these were early-career handlers. It was good to be reminded how difficult it is to guide five sheep through complicated choreography across a large field. The crowd was reminded several times not to clap before the end of the session, as it could distract the sheep and the dogs.
Finally, just before the lunch break, there was a breakthrough, as one of the world’s top handlers from Wales—Aled Owen and his dog Tom—quietly stepped into the field. It was a master class in dog and sheep handling. Tom sprinted up the fields around the edges in the shade to hide from the sheep. As he reached the sheep, only then did the whistles from the handler begin. The sheep obediently (it seemed from our vantage way, far away) started trotting towards the bottom of the hill where the handler and all of us were waiting.
The dog steered the sheep around the handler, and back up to the gate on the left of the field. They passed through that gate like thread through a needle. Then the dog kept them moving together across the field towards the far right hand gate. Through the gate and around they went. Now the dog had to guide those sheep back down the field to the handler, where the handler had to split the sheep into two groups. The final step is to bring them back together to herd them into a small pen.
All went reasonably well until it was time to go in the pen. Once again, the sheep seemed to be having none of it. But after some staring, a few quick flicks by the handler, patience and quick stealth movement by the dog, the sheep gave up and went in. The crowd stood up on its feet and roared with appreciation, rounds of clapping from everyone. It was joy at seeing such mastery. Also a relief to see that it was possible!
Now we are filling up our calendar with the dates of all the activities and looking forward to a summer of special events. If we aren’t attending, at least we know which dates we don’t want to go near that part of the Island. We might complain a little, but we do love living in a place where so many people say they have had some of the best days of their lives. ❤️ 🐑 🐕 🏖️
I am truly grateful for your time spent reading these posts. Every week it is a blessing, so a big thank you again from me.
Let me know if you live someplace that changes population over the course of the year, and if you have to deal with tourists, what are your strategies? Do you resent it, just deal with it, or something else?
I know there are lots of doggy people out there, and I hope you let me know something fun they have done to amuse you this week. And I know there is at least one sheep person[😉]. I love all the stories you animal people can tell me!
Looking forward to hearing from you and seeing you again next week.
xx Sabrina
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Love this.
Sheep are such contrary things, especially if there's a dominant sheep in the flock. If she/it decides no, then the flock will follow indiscriminately. We have an expression 'There's always one...'
But working dogs are the most exceptional beings - they're born with the trait and have such eye. Our sadly departed Border Collie could do everything on his own - and lived to do it. Much harder though to trial through multiple obstacles than just round up, retrieve and return the mob to the boss.
In terms of dogs, let's just say our JRT is fed up to the back teeth with Mum and Dad STILL being in the city while Mum recuperates. Wastes no opportunity to bark at nothing because he's bored, despite two daily walks. He keeps racing downstairs to Dad's mud-covered ute to stand by it, looking longily at the car door - a true sign he's done with the city.
On summer and the island, you are far more placid than we would be. Husband and self get very antsy at the summer onslaught here on our own island. We retreat and map difficult-to-get-to coves - anything to avoid the influx. Heave an absolute sigh of relief after Easter when summer sinks and the tourists flock elsewhere.
XXXX
Let's see, I live 75 miles from Yellowstone NP. And here in Bozeman we either get them coming or going. We've got the busiest airport in the state, setting records year after year. The pandemic put us on the map as many fled the big cities, thus boosting our population to 53K. I think there were about 25K when I moved here in '82, and many of the roads outside of town were still gravel.
Rule #1: don't go to YNP between Memorial and Labor Days.
Rule #2: stay off the roads to YNP. Thus, we head for the backroads.
The saying here in Montana is "There's 2 seasons, Winter and Construction". Or "This year Summer will be on a Wednesday". We also have an additional season that's sandwiched somewhere between Winter and Summer running concurrently with Spring, called Mud Season.
The other day our rescue Bernese Mtn Dog, Jim, ate 2 entire (peels included) bananas off the counter. He also got into a plastic container of supplement powder to no ill effects. However, we waiting to see if any of the container will pass or stay in his gut. He does well for long periods and then we have a minor setback. He's our long term project.