HALIFAX - I often drive by Exhibition Park, a large arena in Halifax that is home to dog shows and winter fairs. One morning this month, I noticed two gigantic horseshoes nailed to the front of the building. They were painted gold and festooned with Canadian flags.

The horseshoes were a far cry from the Golden Arches of corporate marketing. (You'd have to be extremely dedicated to stay up all night banging them together.) But there was something about them that drew me out of my car, across a parking lot full of campers and RVs, and into the 2005 Canadian Horseshoe Championships. Some 126 contestants from nine provinces had gathered for three days of horseshoe pitching and a chance to win prizes totalling $12,165.

Inside the arena, it was quiet but for the clank and thud of horseshoes. Rows of sand-filled horseshoe pits lined the floor where players warmed up.

Players are required to wear a jersey with their name and province across the back, but otherwise the dress code was baggy pants, baggy shorts and a variety of hats: ball caps, Tilley hats and even a Stetson or two, all gleaming with pins (it's customary for opponents to exchange provincial pins at the end of a game). The women wore small gold horseshoe pendants, some glittering with diamonds."I put mine on every morning, right after I put on my cross," said one of the players, patting her chest.

Andre LeClerc, VP, Horseshoe Canada, had driven 15 hours from Quebec, pulling a trailer, to make this event. He met his wife, Sylvianna, playing horseshoes, and both are members of the Canadian Horseshoe Pitchers' Hall of Fame. He told me that at their wedding, guests clinked horseshoes rather than spoons and glasses to urge the bride and groom to kiss.

George Barton, a past president of Horseshoe Canada and another Horseshoe Hall of Famer, agreed to initiate me into the fine art of pitching. "Hold the shoe like you would a dinner plate," he said, peering through the points of the horseshoe. "Now line up your thumb with the stake. Then line up your toe with your thumb."

The horseshoe felt incredibly heavy clenched between my fingertips and I was afraid I'd drop it on my foot. With loud, embarrassing clangs, I threw the first one short, the second one wide and the third one long (missing the pit altogether).

The object of the game is to get the horseshoes on the stake. Your opponent can cancel your "ringers" by getting an equal number on the stake. If you don't "get one on," the distance between your horseshoe and the stake is meticulously measured by arcane tools, including calipers, to determine whose shoe is closest to the pole. Opponents throw about 40 shoes in a game.

"You're not concentrating," admonished Barton. "Horseshoes is 90% focus. Now, you are going to pitch until you throw a ringer-- like this." He adjusted the brim of his hat and promptly threw three ringers in a row.

I kept trying until my arm began to ache. But I never managed to score. Finally, Barton took pity and put the shoes away. "You've got strength and determination," he said, encouragingly. "Now you just need practice."

Though I felt demoralized, I had to admit there's something about the heft of the shoe and the clank of metal on metal that makes you want to try again.

Horseshoes as a sport moved into public view via rural county fairs, and was at the apex of its popularity during the Depression. These days, there are some 20,000 active players nationwide, LeClerc estimated. "But what do you see here? Mostly grey heads," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "If we don't attract the younger generations, the sport could fade out."

Though grandparents dominate the tournament, there was a small contingent of under-18s in the junior division.

Drew Becker 16, from Kitchener, Ont., has been playing competitively for about eight years. His mother, father, uncles and grandparents all played horseshoes. "I picked up my first horseshoe when I was two. After work, people at the trailer park hang out and play horseshoes," he said.

I asked him what keeps him in horseshoes. "You get to travel," he said. "Businesses will sponsor a kid like me. I've been all over the place and I've made a lot of friends."

Jalaal Curren, a blonde 17-year-old from Delisle, Sask., said, "I've been playing for five years. The kids at school say, 'You play what?' It's, like, totally invisible."

Raquel Schaefer, 16, a pretty brunette from Grande Prairie, Alta., added, "There's no school horseshoe program. Most kids don't know about it."

Curren laughed, then referred to the popular indie film Napoleon Dynamite, a paean to nerdiness: "I could see Napoleon and Pedro playing horseshoes. I could see them doing that."

Try as I might, I couldn't unearth any dirt on the horseshoe circuit.

"The only dirt you'll find is in the pit," said Kay McKay, a vigorous senior from Alberta, as she collected a loony per player to pay the scorekeepers. "The sportsmanship, the friendship and the fun is what horseshoes are all about."

McKay knows every single contestant -- has for years. So when a bald man tried to sneak past her to get to his match, she stopped him dead. "Hey, mister. You owe me a buck. Get back here!" The man slunk back, clearly delighted with the McKay sass.

Now she zeroed in on one of the female contestants. "Hey, you," she yelled. "You there. Yes, you! Go sit down. You make the place look untidy." The woman just grinned and waved.

"They expect it from me," McKay said. "If you're nice, this crowd will walk all over you."

Rummaging in her purse she extracted an envelope. "Hey, have I shown you my great grandchildren?"

The Horseshoe Canada Web site provides links to major sites:www.horseshoecanada.ca