Dead ringers

COEUR d'ALENE - Glen Wessel stood rigid at the end of the cement pad, his eyes fixed on the stake across the park.

He breathed, raised his arm until the half circle in his hand was eye level, and evenly lowered it and flung it forward.

The air sang with the sound of metal zipping by, finishing with a satisfying clank as the horseshoe whacked the pole.

With no pageantry or celebration, he backed up to let his partner take a swing.

But his pal David Allinger wasn't letting him go quietly.

"This is a guy we call a sandbagger," Allinger said, pointing to Glen with a grin. "They come in and they win."

After a lot of practice, that is.

Self improvement and friendly competition are both big incentives every Monday at Winton Park, where the Kootenai County Horseshoe Pitchers Association practices.

Usually luring about 25 regulars, the group participates in a few tournaments a year, and in the meantime focuses on perfecting technique.

With members ranging from 30 to 93 years old, some come for laughs, some for company, some for tradition.

Pretty much all of them come for a little competition.

"Did you see that? Two girls beat two boys!" declared De Spilva as she stepped off a pitching pad and hung her horseshoes on a barrel. "I love that."

The 51-year-old joined the group after her son persuaded her to give it a shot, she said, and it took fast.

She likes how the club allows her to mingle with pitchers who have been perfecting their game for decades, she said, and are willing to give advice.

In the last three years, she has improved from 5 percent - ringing five shoes in 100 throws - to 20 percent.

"I'm not half bad, that's what's so fun," Spilva said. "And I like beating the guys. This is something I can beat them at."

Glen, club president, said it can be tricky recruiting new members.

"Some just want to play in bars where they can sit and drink," he said. "It's hard to get people dedicated to practice."

Glen has been trying to revive the group after popularity started fading a few years ago, he said.

He's trying to focus on the positive aspects of the game, like how it provides exercise for any age group.

There's also the excitement in participating in tournaments, like the one they held this past weekend.

"A few this weekend threw 60 to 70 percent," Glen estimated. "I'd say we're at or above average."

The biggest draw, he said, is camaraderie.

"This is my family," he said, waving his arms at the group around him, who cheered in response.

Under the shade of the tall pines, the horseshoers lined up at the pitching pads as they played Walking Doubles, a game where folks play in pairs.

Above the occasional clanking of horseshoes, there rose the sound of chatter and laughter, and members cheering each other on.

"Pfff. I'm tired," Dave Allinger muttered as one pitch landed mutely in the dirt.

"Excuses, excuses," teased his partner, Dave Sazel.

Allinger, 53, started playing with the group about 5 years ago, at the urging of his good friends Glen and Darla Wessel.

He likes the group because of the companionship, he said, and the skill. Most of the pitchers at Winton Park have made their choice between the four kinds of horseshoe throws, done with different weighted shoes to achieve a specific turn.

"A lot of these guys are bowlers, because it's the same motion, the same follow-through," Allinger said.

Many practice year-round, too, he said, adding that he, Glen and their wives toss shoes in the snow at their home horseshoe pits.

"We were practicing both of these last two winters, even when there was 16 feet of snow at my house," he said.

Sazel said horseshoes is a great way to meet new people.

"Nobody here has anything in common except horseshoes," he said.

Waiting to participate in the next game, Otto Brennecke looked on in a lawn chair.

Still playing horseshoes after 22 years, the 84-year-old said he has made a lot of memories with friends he met tossing shoes.

"Some of them are still good friends. A lot of them passed away," he said.

The activity keeps him going, he added.

"I've got two new hips in me, a knee that's been worked on, and I'm still walking," Brennecke said with a smile.

He's happy to see the local group has enthusiastic members wanting to keep the game alive, he said.

But he wishes younger crowds were interested, too.

"They're just too busy with their computers and watching television," he said.

Darla Wessel, Glen's wife, admitted that they had hoped to revive the club by recruiting younger members, including her 20 and 25-year-old children.

"They weren't interested. I think maybe it's just too slow of a game for them," said Darla, 51. "So instead we got other people our age to play."

She added that a few of the club's members will be attending this year's state tournament in Pocatello, and will put in a bid to host the tournament in Coeur d'Alene next year.

"One reason I think we're doing it is we want our 90-year-old horseshoers to keep playing," she said.

No problem for Garland "Ike" Bews, 93, who won the state tournament about seven years ago.

He started throwing horseshoes on his family's farm in Boise Valley, he said, taking the actual shoes the horses used.

The practices in Coeur d'Alene allow him to meet nice people, he said, and keep his pitching honed.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said with a smile of how it felt winning the tournament. "One game doesn't mean much more than the other, so long as I win."

Nancy Bartee, Dave Allinger's wife, said winning had seemed a longshot before she joined the group two years ago.

"We have a (horseshoe) pit, and he used to skunk me every night," Bartee she said of the dreaded 21-0 score. "He's say, 'Let's play horseshoes!' every night, and it wasn't very much fun."

But after practicing every Monday night, the 56-year-old said, she is much improved.

"He (my husband) only beat me by four points yesterday," Bartee said. "We have a great bunch of people down here to play with."

Practice is on Mondays at 5 p.m., from early spring through fall. Annual dues for the local group is $10.

Bartee said she is inspired practicing with individuals approaching a century of life.

"I watch Ike at his age throw ringer after ringer," she said. "He's still doing it. That's encouraging for anybody."