Session 6: Runaways

Since the last session I had a different kind of session at one of my favorite shops, Hudson Trail Outfitters. I spent an enjoyable couple of hours working out which boots to get and what other accessories would be useful.  Why do the shop assistants always recommend the most expensive options? (OK, I do know the answer to that). Well, the Asolos, individually stitched and made in Italy really did seem to be the most comfortable, so they would have to do. I also got some gaiters, unfortunately the only ones that fit me (ie. Short enough but waterproof) were red, not so great for concealment, but I’m sure they’ll get muddy quickly enough. I had also made good use of Amazon.com and had purchased a camelback, a decent compass and a book about wilderness navigation. Unfortunately, the book has not yet been read. Having ascertained that it is indeed possible to spend several hundred dollars on this game, I was ready to set out and get the most out of my new equipment. I somewhat self-consciously put on the bright red gaiters, hoping that the others did not notice all the shiny new toys I had. If they did, they politely did not say anything.

Today’s location was Little Bennett State Park, at the Horse Trailer Parking Lot. It was aptly named, as throughout the morning the trailers arrived, most with two horses, most with two women. Today was a re-certification day for two of the members, required every two years for each human/dog team. The scenario was specified as such: I was a geo-casher who had not returned, presumed to have gone off-path following a bird sighting. As the subject, I had to be “non-responsive” when found by the dog, since I was supposed to be unconscious.



Hiking up the Hill

I walked with Gemma to the defined sector, and we found a nice spot on a pretty steep hill, with downed-trees on two sides and brush on the other. I lay down on an army-surplus foam mat and covered myself with camouflage netting, two other items I had recently purchased. I made sure my blue backpack was well hidden, since last time it was the giveaway to my location.  Only 20 minutes later I was found by Vector, who walked over me, then jumped on me. I suppose I could have moved my arm to protect my neck from being stood upon, but I was trying to fulfill my instructions to the word!  Elsa and Vector passed their re-certification with flying colors. 

My view when prone

Later in the day Cino got his first lesson in searching.  Gemma, a very capable and experienced SAR member did “runaways” with me: she got Cino all excited using her voice, body language and treats, then, with me holding his collar to restrain him, she ran away with him watching, and hid partially behind a tree. As soon as she was hidden, I let go of his collar and he went bounding after her. He did not look left or right, but stayed focused on her all the time. As soon as he got to her he was rewarded with treats and praise.  We did this twice, and it worked beautifully. He went absolutely in a straight line, jumping over branches and with great enthusiasm. Because he did it so well, Gemma decided he could try the next step in runaways. This is where the subject runs down a path and then darts into the undergrowth for a short distance and goes out of sight. It is important to check the wind position since the wind must be coming from the direction of the subject, so that the dog notices the smell as he runs down the path. Gemma told me to look for the head jerk as he runs past the spot where she is hiding, which is immediately followed by his body turning. Once again he did a perfect job. All this was done with a 20 ft leash trailing, but not being held by me. I was initially worried that once he realized he was not under my physical control he might take off after some critter, but Gemma did such a good job of keeping his attention that it was a non-issue.  Great!

Next step was trailing Gemma with her GSD Tucker to find a cadaver casket. Tucker is certified as a tracking dog, and her other GSD as a tracking and cadaver dog. As we were searching for the casket, I was learning about this other skill. One advantage of cadaver is that it is stationary, but it may be spread in many different locations. Also, it may be fresh or even decades old. To train their dogs in human cadaver work requires – human remains. Apparently bones can be purchased over the internet. They use donated blood, but not their own.  They would, but our blood smells like us, and would confuse the dog. When they made a find, they scrape up dirt/soil from under the remains which has had “seepage”.  They also use extracted teeth.  The casket is about the size of a small tool box into which I did not look too closely. Gemma keeps it in her garage, where, I guess, it gently matures. As she put it “cadaver work is fun”.

Session 5: Long way to go

A very nice time of year to be driving north on Route 28 – the maples and the birches intensifying their reds and yellows, in a predominantly vibrant green landscape.  Cino happily in the back of the CRV, on a sunny, but chilly October morning, on our way to the Monocacy Nature Resources Area, just over the border into Frederick County. The entrance was just off Doctor Belt Road. I wondered if there really was a Dr. Belt, or whether giving a child “the belt” was considered as good as going to the doctor. 

This was Cino’s first  day-time session, and obedience was first up. A convenient large grassy space was nearby, where I found out that my shoes were not at all waterproof: the dew seeped through shoe and sock.  I thought Cino’s off-leash (well, he was on a 40 ft leash) healing was marginally less distracted than the previous session, and he did a pretty passable drop on recall. We did stays, and I hid behind a conveniently located bed of tall ornamental grasses. Cino did not budge, which was really great. Very happy for him!  I put him back in the car, and then hiked with Elsa and Vector through a stream (my feet were already wet, so who cares) to find a subject. After that, they went back to base while I found a new hiding spot and settled down to wait. I’m getting used to this and actually look forward to napping in the woods. I guess it was about an hour till I was found.  At the end of the session, Fiona suggested I get Cino out of the car for him to learn how to be pushy with people. Trouble is, he’s been trained not to be pushy.  About five people stood around in a circle with treats in their hands. I thought Cino would be delighted, but he seemed really nervous. I’m not sure if it was the location, if some of the taller guys made him feel threatened, if it was the dogs in the cars, but he had his little stubby tail tucked under as far as it would go, something I’ve rarely seen in him. They each called him and gave him treats, sometimes teasing him with them, really trying to make him work for the treats by being pushy. He relaxed a bit, but never gave off a confident demeanor. Clearly there’s a long, long way to go.

Session 4: Noises In the dark

This being my fourth outing, with some trepidation I decided I would bring Cino. I also decided that since the dogs spend most of the time in the car, the CRV would be a better choice than the Prius, since at least he can stand up, turn around easily, and I can leave the trunk window open.

I got to the location early, and as usual, was uncertain whether I had found the right place. There were two pick-up trucks parked there, but neither had any dogs in them. Instead there were two guys in camo hanging out, incongruously with a carafe of red wine and two wine glasses. Of course I went up to them (to check the name of the location). It turns out they had been hunting (hence the camo), but had been unsuccessful. I was concerned that hunting and dogs running loose do not go well together, but the hunting was only permissible before 5 pm. They were hunting doves. Well, I was quite glad they had been unsuccessful, really.  They said they were going to hang out until they had finished their cigars and the wine. I guess they were then going to drive home. Well, at least I was not going to be on the road at the same time as them in their inebriated state.

Gradually the others arrived, a good haul, probably 8 people and their dogs. First off, obedience: So I got Cino out of the car, and he was certainly a bit confused. For one, we don’t walk after dusk very much, for two, we never do obedience in the dark, and never in the dark and outside. Still, he did not acquit himself too badly.  I did the drop on recall using a 40 ft line, but unfortunately it was more like a 20 ft line, since it was all knotted up. Note to self: make sure it is free of knots next time.  Well, that was it for Cino’s activity that evening, but not mine.  He was going to have to get used to being in the car by himself for hours at a time, and this was a good place to start.

For the first time, I was part of the search party (well, I accompanied Don and his K9 Weaver).  Alan went off to be the subject and when he called to say he was in place, we took off. Don has been doing this for a decade or so, and Weaver is about 9 years old, so also very experienced.  Don used a combination of his map and a GPS device for navigation. The area was bounded by a road on one side, a creek on another and a drainage on a third.  Once we found the drainage on our left we walked more or less straight towards the creek. Don gave Weaver the “find” command, and she went bounding through the woods between five and ten yards away from us. Once we got to the creek, we walked back along a track parallel to the one we had just taken, about 15 yards away, and then turned and did the same thing for a third time. About an hour had passed, and we had not found Alan. Don was concerned that Alan was not in the specified area, so he called him on the two-way radio and asked him his location. He then asked him to blow his whistle, so that we could find him even if he was not in the right area. Weaver did eventually locate him. Her method is to find him, bark, then come back to Don, then go back to the subject and bark again. Despite Don's misgivings, Alan was in the right area. We had stopped a little short of the creek, otherwise we might have found him sooner.

Then it was my turn to be the subject. Don and Alan headed back to base, for Alan to get Zed and then to come and find me. This time I was not being “placed”, and it was entirely up to me to decide where to hide. Exhilarating!  I had already decided I would place myself inside the drainage. It was quite steep on both sides, and Don had explained previously that it can be difficult to find people in those areas, since in the dark you can only see the opposite side to the one you are walking on, and scent tends to pool at the bottom, depending on wind conditions.
I had been paying a lot of attention to the directions we had been heading in, and using the moon as a partial guide, especially since the compass I had was not very good.  The moon was to the north of me, the road (and base) to the south, and the drainage to the west. I needed to turn west (left) and walk slightly uphill for about five minutes, keeping the moon on my right, then I should find the drainage. I was actually somewhat surprised when I did!  Since we would then be heading back to base, I decided to go further south along the drainage, so it would be closer to walk back later that night. Also, I was looking for somewhere at least moderately comfortable to settle down, and somewhere where I would be difficult to find. I found a ledge at seat-height, with root branches for arm rests. It seemed a good spot, so I got myself comfortable (sort-of) and turned off my headlight. I then got to wondering whether the drainage area was popular among rat families. Certainly there were a lot of scuffling sounds. I realized that the rock I was sitting on had space underneath for little critters to nest. Or maybe even snakes, but I decided it was too cold for them.
It was a long wait. It did cross my mind that maybe I should have picked somewhere where I would be easier to find.  I saw headlights after about 45 minutes, but they passed me by. Then after an hour the headlights came back, and Zed found me, so I thought Alan would appear in a few minutes, but it was not to be. It was after another half an hour that Zed appeared again, and this time I radioed Alan to let him know. Zed had decided not to indicate that evening.
By the time we got back to base, most others had left. It was about 1 am, and the debrief was brief, so I was in bed at 2 am. Much better!

Session 3: Disaster Training

It was a grey and drizzly Sunday morning: the kind when you really want to stay in bed and read a good book followed by a leisurely breakfast with the Sunday papers. Those kinds of Sundays are not for Search and Rescue people, oh no. Off I went, hoping I had everything I needed – waterproof jacket, shoes, some food and a good attitude.

Linthicum Disaster Training Area is a bizarre place. At the outset it looks like a trash transfer location, but a small sign simply with the letters K9 give away that at least part of it is something else. The tarmac quickly gives way to a very pot-holed road, with steep, short hills, such that you cannot really see where you are going until you get to the top. Over one hill was a trailer, which serves as headquarters.  Great, somewhere with a little cover, and a porta potty, vastly superior to peeing in the woods, really. Inside the trailer were a couple of smelly overstuffed sofas and a selection of dog crates. Good, I was in the right place.

But what a place: it really did look like an earthquake zone. To one side, huge cement tubes, half buried in a short hill; In front, wooden pallets, higgledy piggledy, piled 30 feet high; a huge wood pile undulating and precarious-looking; a burnt-out bus, and two boats, strangely out of place, even in this setting.  Behind the trailer was a fenced in area which looked a bit like an agility course, but with ladders horizontally high above the ground and other fearsome looking obstacles.  Apparently there are only a very few such training locations on the East Coast, and groups come from considerable distances to train here.

There were only two people (and three dogs) there apart from me, so lots of individual training. It was too slippery for the dogs to safely navigate the wooden obstacles (although one pretended she had to go up there, just for fun), so most of the work for the dogs was for them to find us in the barrels (nice and warm and dry).  But even hiding in the barrel was more complex than I realized. For a start, each dog works in a different way, and each needs different rewards. It is not easy to count 30 barks before opening the lid to the barrel a crack. It is really not easy to hold a tug toy when you are lying flat on your stomach and to engage the dog in the appropriate amount of tug play (especially when your arms are being bashed from side to side on the barrel rim, and the dogs teeth are precariously close to your fingers).  The most important thing is to make the dog really want to find you.  I was told that a good SAR dog does not make a good pet dog: they need to be a bit crazy and wild.  Each time I go I realize it is not going to be easy to do this with Cino.

I was somewhat cheered that one dog was not very enthusiastic, and basically was not “indicating” in the right way. He seemed confused about what he was supposed to do.  Most of the people with this group have been doing it for years, but this one woman and her dog had been doing it for only a year, therefore were still novices. They have not yet passed the NASAR SARTECH II Certification.  OK, I’m not entirely sure what that is, either. But it is difficult!

Did I mention it was rather a wet day? And by the end of the morning I had rather wet feet, even though the shoes I was wearing are supposed to be waterproof. Time to visit Hudson Trail Outfitters.  At least if I can stay dry, I will have achieved something.

Session 2: SAR at Night

Once a month the SAR training starts at dusk – clearly a lot of people are missing overnight and dogs and handlers have to be able to do their job at any time of the day or night. Once qualified, the SAR teams are on-call 24 hours a day, quite a commitment.

My first challenge was to find the site: I asked for detailed directions and received a curt email saying to look at the map – I did, and the location seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. I was kindly told there was a swing arm gate. So I drove down a single lane road at dusk, and there were plenty of gates, but most had houses behind them. One did not, so I drove up the dirt driveway into a field. Boy was I pleased to see another car already up there, and yes, there was a dog in the car. Success!

It was the first cool night of the summer, which I realized as I got out of the car. What was it I had read about being prepared? Well, this time I had failed to bring any warm clothing. OK, don’t complain, it won’t look good.

First off, I was “placed” in location. Chris, who was to search for me, gave me a stadium blanket to sit on, which was not only helpful, but helped me to stay moderately warm in the hour and a half I waited in the dark. Yes, it was spooky. Yes, live creatures were rustling around me. And this time, I had very little idea about where base was.  One thing you learn is that each dog has a different reward system. This time I was to ignore the dog on her first approach, then the second time I was to give her lots of treats. I am really glad I had my gloves on, since Xenon was pretty damn eager to get at those treats!

By the time we got back to base, everybody else was back. There was some “bark barrel” work: somebody hides in a human-sized barrel and holds the lid on tight. The dog is supposed to run straight to it, bark like crazy, and try and pull the lid off. After the dog has barked 30 or 40 times (the person in the barrel is supposed to count), the lid is opened and the dog is engaged in a game of tug. Boy can these dogs tug! I was not asked to volunteer for barrel duty this time, though I have to say it looked kind of warm inside… I was trying hard not to look too cold. Then some people got out their chairs, the snacks came out, oh, so did the case of beer. Remember, we were not close to anybody’s home. The beer was brought, I think, by the guy who is a police officer during the day.  Just about everybody partook. Then the stories started, this was around 1 am, about the time I have usually been asleep for two hours.  It was not getting any warmer.

Suddenly, Alan was at my side, with a warm coat. I definitely like this guy! At least I was no longer cold, though my feet were starting to hurt. Mental note to put my chair in the car for next time …

I had a suspicion the stories were being told for my sake. Gory ones of finding parts of bodies; stories about sleeping in a gym with plenty of people and dogs, and rudimentary sanitary arrangements; to be honest, I can’t remember most, it was rather late. At 3 am, Alan confirmed that the two hours of story-telling was almost certainly for my benefit. I was very glad he lent me a jacket!

My First SAR Training session

The first thing I found out was that to train in search and rescue you have to find the training sites.  Well, if you can't navigate to the start point, how are you going to find your way around in woods, streams and fields?  I set off (without my poodle) in plenty of time for the 9 am start. The drive took about 45 minutes, the last part of which was up a rather pot-holed dirt track.  And there I found a couple of SUVs and a pic-up truck. So I parked my Prius next to them. I can just imagine what they thought: this one won't last long. And out of the Prius came a middle-aged woman, shortish, and not, well shall we say, not very athletic looking. OK, so here's a picture of me, with Cino (OK, so I like dressing him up, too).
The first task was to work on orienteering. We were divided up into two groups of three. Each group had a US Geological Survey map with two x marks, for each group. We had to place a marker at each of those points, then retrieve the markers the other group placed. No use of GPS devices (why not?) just map and compass. So off I go, with Alan* a retiree who started this about two years ago and is not quite certified, and Bob, a young guy, tall and skinny, with long, long legs. Ho Hum, I thought, let's see if I can keep up. Well, it was a challenge! It was hot (last week in August), steep, and we went through the undergrowth, those places which normal people do not walk. Briars, logs on logs, poison ivy.  But so interesting! Ask anybody who has ever been walking with me if I have a good sense of direction, and they will tell you I do not. But suddenly I was really starting to understand the map, the contours, what to expect.  Bob hardly used the map at all after glancing at it to start with: he has an innate sense of direction, probably helped by an ability to look at a map and know he will be walking uphill for 5 mins, then there will be a gully on the left, followed by a stream a little further on, and an old stone house on the right. And he gets this by glancing at the map. I was grateful I was with Alan who clearly had to work very hard to plot the route.

After about an hour we got to our first x point, which Bob confirmed by using the banned GPS.  And I believed I knew exactly where we were. Actually, it is easy if you are following two other people.

I know this is getting long and boring - well, it was quite long, but the boring part came a little later. So, we got back to base, and felt we had done quite well, better than the other group, of course!  Then it was time for the dogs to have a little fun. The Search.  I knew that I was going to be the "subject", and Bob told me to go and hide "near that old burnt out car we passed on our way back".  OK, I thought, that's only about a 5 min walk, I can easily find it. After all, I've walked that way before, I have a map, and now I know how to use it.  Ha funny ha. Off I went, with a two-way radio and borrowed camo net (and my water, which I had not taken earlier. One learns all sorts of things doing SAR, not least that one is supposed to be prepared, and nobody will tell you what to take). I walked down a path before turning left - but then I was in a field, and I was not supposed to be in a field.  So I double backed and walked down another path, which kind-of looked right. Funny how things look different when going in the opposite direction.  Gosh was I pleased when I found the car, about 15 minutes later.  I found a comfortable spot between two trees and settled down to wait. Another thing I had forgotten to ask: how long would I be waiting for? Well, I could watch the birds. Listen to the scrabbling (please let it be a squirrel, not a rat). Wow, a pilleated woodpecker! Now what?  How long has passed - about 1/2 hour. Change position. Woops, sitting on poison ivy.  Hmmn, maybe I should have brought a book?  Another hour. At least I could hear some exchange on the radio. One subject had been found. Well, at least the radio is working. 1 hour and a half. Hmmmn. Wait, do I hear a bell? Is that Zed thundering towards me? Yes, he jumps right on me, then heads back into the woods. Here he comes again! Yes Zed, good boy, go fetch! And again, this time with Alan.  So we walk back to base, and everyone is there. We go round the group, each person saying how "their" training went that day. Well, said I, really interesting! I've never sat by myself in the woods for an hour and a half, before. I enjoyed it! And what is more, that was true. Maybe some of them think I won't be back, but then, they don't know me - yet.

* All names of people and dogs have been changed for their protection!

Why I Decided to Try Search and Rescue

I needed something new in my life. Something which would be a challenge, interesting and most of all, involve my fab standard poodle, Cino.
I have done obedience with him, he gets bored quickly. I tried tracking last year, but its all on-leash, and not very interesting, really. So, why not Search and Rescue? What could be better than helping to find somebody lost in the wilderness? Why not see if my dog could do this? I went on my first training session just over a month ago, and am still going - so that's something! But more and more it seems as if my darling poodle is not really the right kind of dog for this. No matter. I will pursue this until somebody tells me not to. I won't give up. So this is the story of each weekend's exploits.