Penny and I went for our first bike outing yesterday and like the bike adventures I outlined in March, it was exciting.  First of all, the disc brakes on my mountain bike, which I took apart this spring replacing rusty discs, need adjustment. (I miss my bike tech son, Rich)  So the initial downhill was a little faster than I'd like.  Got to learn how to bleed those brakes.

 My system is called the Springer and it works quite well.  The dog has room to run and a big spring tends to absorb most of the lurches and spurts -- but it does help if you're an experienced cyclist.  So we launched down the driveway and down our dirt road and cruised up the rather flat dirt road that runs along the brook.  Full of energy, she pulls like crazy and I hardly have to pedal.  After ten minutes, we slowed down and I found a shady place and let her drink out of the clear water flowing down the ditch.

I've watched my Vizsla run a lot -- too often away from me ignoring my calls but that's another story -- and dogs tend to run in spurts.  They cruise, sometime gallop, but then stop and sniff and explore.  I try to simulate that activity by not running her continually -- but varying speeds and stopping fairly frequently for a break.  I also stick to dirt roads or if on pavement, ride so that she can run on the shoulder.  One of my favorite places is our local airport, during periods with no activity, where I can ride the edges of runways or taxiways and she can run along on the grass.  (I'm a pilot so folks let me be)

Here's a picture of our camera shy Hungarian hound before we launched today.  The Springer is hooked up and ready -- and while she doesn't look interested, once I put the iPhone away, she was raring to go.

On our normal route, the initial downhill ends up being a climb at the end of the workout. Penny slows down and walks and I have to pedal and half-pull her up the road.  It's probably funny to hear me panting "come on, girl -- here Penny" as I try to coax her into a faster climb.  What I need is a hot dog on a stick to hold in front of her -- we'd make it back up in record time.  

For me, cycling with a dog is not really a good workout for me but it's a good way to get her some aerobic exercise.  Dogs seem to love it and it's really is a lot of fun to fly down a dirt road with your canine buddy stretched out in a flat run.  Carry water and a collapsible water dish and "bike like a dog."

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Asleep on our couch, my Vizsla Penny just gave out a little bark -- perhaps she’s reliving the encounter yesterday with the biggest moose I’ve ever seen.  She and I were about halfway through a soggy trail run on a route we often take when just ahead in the pines was this big black thing. He lifted his head, I saw the massive rack, and the dog took off toward him. He wheeled and started running off, then wheeled and she screeched to a stop.  Then they both were off again, charging up the hill, leaving me yelling and breathless, and scared witless for my dog. She looked pretty small behind the big guy.

About ten minutes later, Penny returned - legs caked with black mud - tongue hanging out, but unmarked.  We bushwhacked home a different way and another adventure was over.

Last week, it was a coydog.  Running down the trail, I spotted some movement in the tall ferns up ahead as did Penny and as she charged off, a big shepherd-sized coydog scrambled away with the red dog right behind.  I yelled as they raced off - hoping that the coydog would not turn on her and fight.  After a ten minute disappearance, Penny came back tuckered out.  Every so often she would stop and sniff the air as we wended our way home.

These two recent “adventures” got me thinking of some of the other encounters we’ve had out back.  Of course, the little ground birds drive her nuts, flitting from limb to limb, as she chases the through the underbrush. Likewise, the red squirrels often sit about 15 feet up and chatter at her as she goes ballistic, barking and trying to climb the pine tree.

We’ve had a couple of meetings with mama partridges who explode off through the brush, dragging a wing and staying just ahead of the racing red dog, letting their chicks (which I ofte see and hear) disperse to safer environs.

And then there are the porcupines.  Last year she met one up close and personal in a woodpile and came home with several quills in the nose.  Lesson learned?  Not!  Just last month, she treed a big fella in a spruce tree, barking and jumping as the guy ambled up the tree and perched on a limb.

Penny, an AKC Vizsla, was born and bred in Kansas by a guy who raises hunting dogs.  After a litter or two, she was sold to a couple in Boston who couldn’t handle her in urban confines and gave her to the rescue group.  That’s where we got her -- fourth place for her.  As I see her chasing anything that runs, I can understand how she flunked Bird Dogging 101.  But living and exercising with her is always interesting and you never know when the next Wild Kingdom adventure will start.

coydog by wikimedia commons   moose photo by gailfisher   porcupine photo by clarity

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A Vizsla is part of my exercise routine -- I run, ski, snowshoe, and cycle with her.  But I’ve never considered our early morning walks part of that routine -- until this morning when I thought, why not?  The outings, 20 to 30 minutes long, are at a hiking pace for me -- of course she’s either stalking or racing -- and are a good mental and physical fitness start to my day.

Every morning, rain or shine, dark or light, Penny and I go for a walk in the woods.  After a couple of cups of good coffee (Capitol Grounds House Blend) and some yogurt, I head downstairs to meet my ready-to-go canine companion.  She jumps and barks as I struggle to tie up boot laces and then she’s out the door on a search mission just in case there’s an early rising red squirrel.

These spring mornings in northern Vermont are special.  While the temperature just after daybreak was about 33 and the grass and dandelions were soaked (not a problem with my all-weather boots -- Zappos), the woods were full of calling birds.  Wood thrushes, robins, chickadees, and a white-throated sparrow were those I identified.  Need to get out the CD again to sort out the warblers.

If you follow this blog, you know that I own a Vizsla named Penny who like most of her breed, has an insatiable need for exercise.  We got her through a rescue group when she was three and three years later, she shows no tendency to slow down.  She’s quite unreliable off leash and there’s no way I can run with her -- she’s way too fast for me. 

The first spring I owned her, I took her out for a couple of bike rides on the dirt roads in our neighborhood.  I just had a leash held lightly in my hands and things went well -- until the first squirrel darted out of a stone wall.  Suddenly my handlebars were yanked, I was in the puckerbrush, and she was running free.  It wasn’t a pretty sight.  It became very clear that do-it-yourself restraint systems were not the answer.