It was at Nonami Plantation, Albany, Georgia. I had flown to Atlanta alone and driven in a rental car south to Albany to see a bit of the Masters Championships, a Bucket List trip. The grave of Sam Ellis had drawn me like a magnet to the spot. There by chance was Robin Gates, standing waiting with his mount’s reins in hand to handle his next-brace entry. Also there following the running in a vehicle with his lady was the entry’s owner, Mr. Butch Houston, and a very special retiree of the Field Trial Wars, the setter Shadow Oak Bo.
We talked for ten minutes, of times I had seen Bo, the first at Coney Lake his first all-age year, when as reporter I was following Bo’s brace in the Lee County Open All-Age from the passenger seat of Luke Weaver’s red Dodge Ram pickup when Robin found him pointed handsomely dead ahead and shortly after he had bumped a bird to be lifted, and the last time in a six-find race at Chinquapin. In the first encounter the gallery had moved on, and Robin had after their departure administered a correction to Bo as Luke and I watched unseen from the truck. “That setter may be a good one, he didn’t flinch,” Luke had said. A prophecy.
Soon Robin departed to meet the gallery and handle his entry, which won Runner-Up. I had marveled at the beauty of Nonami, and Blue Springs, and Wildfair. At lunchtime at headquarters at the Potter Community Center I had enjoyed chats with Steve Standley, Ferrel Miller, Greg St. John, Gary and Joy Lester, and Kentucky transplants the Beanes, father and son. I had ridden the dog trailer behind the big John Deere and wondered at the beauty of the plantations. Next day, I returned to Atlanta and braved its Airport, jammed with traveling humanity, scary for me.
I had first seen Robin at South Hill, Virginia, in 1976, ably handling his shooting dog string in the Easter Open Shooting Dog Championship. He was just twenty. Now Robin and Bo are elected to the Field Trial Hall of Fame, an honor well deserved by both.
Another great story. Dad loved Robin.