Originally posted on October 11, 2014, by cruisingrunner
I’ve gotten used to the dogs. Throughout most of the south pacific islands that we’ve visited, stray dogs are prevalent. Mostly, they ignore you, but I’ve gotten used to the occasional run in where I have to assert myself as the alpha dog and yell, “no!” and then wave around whatever I’m carrying (a loaf of bread, a VHF radio, whatever) like I really mean business. Supposedly dogs in Tonga can be a real menace, but so far, I’ve managed to come out of every interaction as the top dog on the totem pole.
But when running on the island of Ha’ano, it wasn’t dogs I was having to worry about. No, it was cows. Yes, you read that right. Cows. Just like the dogs don’t like me running around or near their territory, these cows didn’t particularly care for my presence anywhere on their island either. While I was still on the boat I looked ashore and saw cows, grazing I suppose, on the beach where I had been previously landing the paddle board. However, I wasn’t concerned and I set off for the beach anyway. They are only cows, after all. As I approached on my paddle board I was a little unnerved that all five cows were standing quite still and had their gazes fixed exactly on me. Now, even though I grew up in an aggie community where there was a big cattle ranch, I do not have much experience with cows, but my general impression is that they would simply ignore me as they and I went about our separate businesses. As I got closer, they still did not avert their gazes, until I reached the beach, and then they all followed their apparent leader back off the beach and into the brush. The “leader” was larger than the rest, with horns, and when as he turned around I got a good view of the fact that he still had all of his parts. This was no steer for slaughtering, this was a bull for making more baby cows. A bull. Crap. It was like a family out for a picnic, papa, mama, big brother, little sister, and maybe grandma or something, and I walked in and disturbed their meal.
I sat down and changed my shoes, and I had no visual on where the cows and their papa bull had gone off to. And as I got up and walked towards the “road” for my run, I still didn’t know where they were. Until I did. Suddenly I was face to face with one of them. Not the bull, but not one of the smaller ones either. And she started mooing. Not the lazy mooing I’m used to hearing in the far off distance, but more like moo yelling, and it was clearly directed at me. She moo yelled, and moo yelled, and I had no idea if she was calling the papa bull or what, so I just backed away and when I was far enough she stopped mooing and I turned around and ran. I was actually afraid of a cow. Anyway, my entire run was consumed with what would I do when I got back if they were blocking my path back to the beach. Or if they sprang out of the bushes and attacked me along the way. Cows springing. Funny. When I got back after my run, I spotted the papa bull on the other side of the road than the path to the beach, and he spotted me too. He just watched me, as I never turned my back on him, and as I made my way down the path and away from the road. I don’t know where his moo yelling mate was, but he let me go in peace.
And then yesterday on the island of Uoleva, I had birds to contend with. Little white birds who took exception to me running on their end of the beach. They cawed at me and when that didn’t scare me away, they started bomb diving me. Two little white birds took turns flying at full speed to within a couple feet of my head.
Why are all the animals in Tonga against me getting a good run in?
Running on Uoleva has been difficult, because it’s a very soft sand beach, and my calves and glutes are sore as a testament to it. My foot hasn’t been hurting me, but I haven’t really been making the progress towards longer runs that I would like, so the prospect of a half marathon next month in New Zealand is looking pretty dim.
-D.
Gresham Family Exodus 