Howdy Folks!

Some of you may remember reading about my trip a few years ago to attend a Basset Hound show in Dallas, Texas. I was really intrigued by this experience - they do things differently over the other side of the pond - and it left me eager to see further American shows.

So it didn’t take me too long to accept a kind offer from friend and fellow S.E. Branch member, Patsy Tranter, to accompany her on her judging appointment to the Basset Hound Club of Southern California show.

The two day show in at the end of March took place at La Habra Heights, a suburb of Los Angeles.

Patsy was scheduled to judge on the first day and John Bink - an Australian judge - on the second.

California seemed an awfully long way to go for two days, so we thought of a few other things we could do while we were there. After a trawl through the numerous guide books, we decided that we would need at least seventeen days just to get a taster of that part of the world. This seemed only right!

So, with bulging suitcases we took off from sunny Gatwick and landed, after an eleven and a half hour flight, in a very rainy L.A.

We had decided to hire a car for the duration of our trip so that we could be as free as we wanted to be - a bit Thelma and Louise - so, at the airport picked up a huge, Chevrolet Impala. This was a powerful vehicle, packed with electrical gadgets that we were still discovering two weeks later.

Looking through the steering wheel along the endless hood - sorry, I mean bonnet (it was only later that I found the seat adjuster) - I fired up the beast and we hit the busy, five-lane freeway to our hotel. Steve McQueen - eat your heart out. The girls had arrived!

We had a few days before the dog show, so, among other things we had a V.I.P. trip to Universal Studios.

There was much to see, but for me the most interesting parts were seeing the Foley artists at work - these are the people who add all the sound effects to the movies in post-production - and seeing the original Bates Motel from Hitchcock’s Psycho; still very chilling.

The day of the show, which was held outdoors, was overcast and a little chilly. But this was mitigated by a very warm welcome from the club’s president, Candy Holman.

We had met Candy, her husband, Rob, and other Basset folk on our Dallas trip and they were incredibly friendly and pleased to see us again.

The way that the various classes are arranged differs from how it is done at dog shows in the U.K. The most obvious difference from the ringside is that the hounds are led up a ramp onto a table to be judged (for those of you unfamiliar with dog shows over here, they are all judged on the floor).

As happened at the Dallas show, applauses and hoots of encouragement accompanied the hounds as they were led around the ring. How very different from here.

Patsy had some lovely hounds to go over. She considered that the bitches were generally better that the males. Her comment at the evening dinner, which was arranged for the club members, was that she thought that sternums could be improved upon. In the States, judges are not required to write critiques on the hounds they have placed – but, it is possible for them to make general comments at the social events afterwards.

It is interesting that the hound that Patsy chose as her Best in Match, Woebgon’s Dodge City Sarsaparilla - a pretty seventeen month-old bitch owned by Donald & Pamela Bullock - won the same title on the following day under John Bink. Obviously, this young lady will continue to do very well at future shows.

At the end of the show we were invited by a lovely lady called Ellen, who was a Speciality judge at the show, to go and stay at her vineyard in Nappa Valley, Northern California.

We did not take too long to consider and accept this kind invitation!

We decided to drive north along the coastal highway, breaking our trip for an overnight stay at Carmel - a pretty place famous for its artistic community and former mayor, Clint Eastwood.

I had an image of me strolling along the beach and coming face to face with Clint in his Fedora and poncho, squinting eyes and cheroot in mouth - but I had to settle with just a quick paddle in a very cold Pacific Ocean.
(Ed. Personally, I don’t see the allure - Clint, I mean, not the paddle.)

That evening, to celebrate Patsy’s birthday, we went to a lovely Italian restaurant for supper and enjoyed filet mignon and a rather nice Chianti. (Ed. If anyone is interested, back home I had a fish and chip take-away and a flat Fanta.)

The next day we had a change of route as the coastal highway was closed due to flooding and landslides. So, we headed inland before turning north again, but this meant missing Big Sur - something I had always wanted to see.

It was a twelve hour drive from Carmel to the Nappa Valley, but the big car gobbled-up the miles - and the gas - and we passed some wonderful scenery.

Ellen, our host, owns and runs Johnson’s Alexander Valley Wines. It was fascinating to see the seemingly endless rows of vines stretching into the distance.

Besides wine production, Ellen’s other passion is Basset Hounds (Ed. Not a bad combination) and she showed us the ‘pack’ who share her home.

Patsy and I stayed in a folksy cabin on the estate; and besides tasting the lovely wine, we had great fun in helping with the hounds exercise, walking them through the rows of vines.

During the couple of days that we stayed with in Nappa Valley, Ellen took us to see the sights of nearby San Francisco.

I really liked ’Frisco. The seafront and bay are spectacular. While there, we walked the entire length of the Golden Gate Bridge and also took a ferry to the island prison of Alcatraz - ‘The Rock’. (Ed. Oh yes, many thanks for the baseball cap.)

Back on the quayside, we spent some time watching the many California sea lions sunbathing on the floating pontoons in the harbour. They are so like Basset Hounds as they each struggle to get the best positions and get shouldered out by the others in the process.

We gave Ellen a lift to the airport as she was flying out to a meeting in Kentucky - there to organise next year’s BHCA’s show which takes place, I think, in Boston.

At the airport we bade farewell to Ellen, thanking her for her wonderful hospitality over the last few days.

Patsy and I then checked into accommodation in ’Frisco for two nights before loading up the Chevy once more and heading east for our next destination, Las Vegas.

This was another mammoth drive - eleven hours! We stocked up on water and provisions for the journey as it would take us through the notorious Death Valley! Here it reached 92°F, but it was quite an incredible experience driving along the endless, perfectly straight, desert highway.
(Ed. Who’s the bloke with the mouth-organ below?)

We arrived in Vegas before nightfall and taking instructions fron the SatNav found accomodation right on the main strip.

Las Vegas was everything I had expected; bright, flashy and brash. There were, of course, the massive themed-hotels - Ceasar’s Palace, The Dunes etc - all with ranks and ranks of slot machines and gaming tables.

One place had circus performers on trapezes overhead.

We saw an amazing outdoor water feature which ‘danced’ to the sound of classical music - before finally shooting a wall of water thirty feet into the air!

Quite incredible.

We spotted the sign on one small hotel read: ‘HOTEL. WEDDING. CUBAN BUFFET.’

It was all sensory overload - but quite exciting - and all very different from dear, old, Eastbourne.

One of the reason for this Las Vegas detour was that we could drive on to see the Grand Canyon. The scale of this truly impressive landmark was fully appreciated when we took a helicopter flight along the canyon. This made this part of our trip totally memorable.

As I know I will get into trouble with the editor over a lack of Basset Hound related material, at this point I will compress the rest of our adventure.
(Ed. Yes, exactly!)

The final leg of the journey was another long drive back to L.A. - in all we clocked-up over 2,000 miles. We visited Hollywood and did the typical guided-tour of film star homes. In reality, this was a tour of film star front-gates and fortress walls. We also went up Mulholland Drive and saw the famous ‘HOLLYWOOD’ sign on the hillside and shopped in Sunset Boulevard. What a really wonderful trip.

Oh yes, then we met John Wayne and Johnny Depp.

Words and photos by Frankie Roberts.