Way back in the Bronze Age, I experienced riding through the Lake Seneca dog gauntlet.

A friend and I were touring upstate, dropped down to the lake at Watkins Glen, round around it, then climbed out the west shore north of the Glen. The lake is like fjord with a steep in initial climb then levels off a bit as you enter the gauntlet. It was about a half mile stretch and as the first dog gave chase, Leigh and I used whatever reserves we had to book. Normally farmhouse dogs drop you at the property line, but not here. The noise brought every dog to the road to see the fun and as we passed they joined the chase.

We might have made it, except that after about a half mile, the road turned for the final climb out of the valley, and we had nothing left. Time to dismount and mount a defense. The dogs surrounded us, and having proven themselves the winners, turned and headed for home en masse. To this day, almost 50 years later I remember that chase, and the (imagined) sight of them exchanging doggie high fives and maybe some milk bones to settle their various side bets.