The Orange Equipment Book

Many, many years ago, I co-wrote a book on Falconry Equipment with Jim Hodge. It has gone through 3 reprintings and 1 minor revision and we are now SOLD OUT of that last reprinting. It is time to seriously update the thing and that is my goal this summer. I should've had this in the can and ready to go a year ago, but there's nothing like being out of copies to encourage one to get busy.

Actually, here's why I haven't worked on it.... After going full-tilt in falconry for over 15 years, I dropped out for nearly 10 years. In 2000, we went to the national meet which was in Amarillo TX that year. The next year, David was born and life just got busy.  I had a great redtailed hawk- one of the best birds I've ever had- but hawking in NE New Mexico is dismal and I just started getting burned out, especially after hawking in some truly spectacular areas. I let the redtail go and lucked into a female prairie falcon which I kept for 3 years and- I'm embarrassed to say- never flew. I also let her go and then did nothing with falconry for several years. In 2010, my youngest son, Derek, was showing an interest in birds and the national meet was just down the road in Dodge City, KS, so we loaded up and went for a day.

Derek had seen a video featuring white gyrfalcons and was all interested in seeing one up close and wanted to know if there'd be one there. I said "Oh, you bet!" We pulled up to the meet after parking our Coleman camper down at the "Gypsy Hawking" place, and walked up to the weathering yard where, none to my surprise, but all to Derek's delight, there was a white gyrfalcon sunning. We hadn't been there 5 minutes when the owner of the gyr picked the bird up and came back to the gate. He recognized me immediately- remember, I haven't been to a meet in 10 years- and we shook hands. I mentioned how Derek was all excited about seeing his first gyr and the bird's owner said "Here! Hold her!" and slipped Derek's hand into the glove. Another falconer behind us snapped a picture and here we go:

Derek at his first falconry meet
(Photo- Ellen McIntyre)

We ended up going hawking with the group and not only did Derek get to hold the gyr, but we got to see it fly, helped a redtail catch its first jackrabbit, and made several new friends.  Derek was hooked. That night at the NAFEX (a falconry forum) dinner, I sat next to our Mountain Director, Paul Domski and talked to him.  "You should put in for a peregrine this year", he said.  The little wheels started churning and well... I documented it all, starting here.  And that was the start of our return to falconry.

At the NAFEX dinner, Paul Domski on the left. I'm thinking about peregrines.
(Photo- Brandi Nickerson)

We missed the 2011 meet.  I was going to take David that year, but the meet was in Utah and his blood was just super-low, and Mom and Derek were gone to southern NM.  Here's my post from that week.  In May 2012, of course, David died,  Derek was very interested in falconry then, and I took a kestrel from a nest box on the ranch and let him train it. I think this really, really helped him get through the loss of his big brother as it gave him something that's his and something new to hold on to. And he's turned out to be a talented trainer, too. That fall, we went to the meet in Kearney, NE and I was asked to play music after the country band couldn't make it. I hadn't really played guitar since David's passing and, as I talked about last week, I was pretty much brain-dead creatively.  But, I got up there and did it, had a good time, and met some new friends in the process. It made me think that, like, people actually like to hear me play and that was encouraging. I started thinking about actually practicing again.

Playing at NAFA 2012
(Photo- Scott McNeff)

I'm telling you all this to tell you this- in the course of going back to the meets and talking to falconers again, I realized that my little book has made an impact on people. I can't tell you how many people would come up to me and tell me how useful the "orange equipment book" was in their falconry progress. When our friend Heather visited a few weeks ago, she told me how a group of young falconers would gather every week and study books, including the "orange equipment book".  I met some great hood makers who told me "we learned from the orange equipment book!" Someone actually kneeled down in front of me in the weathering yard!  All this was encouraging if somewhat humorous to me. I mean, do these people know the truth about me?

At one point, I sat down and crunched the numbers and figured that I LOSE money on the book- if I spent the same time working on guitars as I did writing, I'd make more money.  Up to 2010, I'd pretty much decided to drop the book and not reprint it, but going to the meets and meeting people made me realize that it's not about the money. It's really about helping people, being a good influence on them, and contributing back to the sport. That kestrel has been great therapy for Derek and I want to say "Thanks" back to the falconry world. So, I'm forgetting about the money part and working on a revision and I'm putting some Effort into it. 

At this point, I have all the chapters in place with all my existing photos and illustrations placed. I can now see where the holes are and what needs to be filled. It's been a lot of work. I've been working until midnight most nights, but it's fun and I feel good doing it. It feels good to be pushing and driving again. It's also interesting contrasting today vs when I first wrote the book.  Here's what I posted on Facebook:

As much work as this _revision_ has been, it's hard to believe I actually wrote this thing from scratch at one point. Actually, after spending 4 years gathering information, I spent 4 months doing almost nothing but writing it and my Master's thesis. I'd work on each one for a week at a time and then switch to the other one. I took a semester off school to do this and I'd get up and be writing at 8 am, work until lunch, eat lunch, work until 3, go hawking, and then work until 10-11 pm. All of this was in DOS 3.3 and what a Godsend it was when I got DR-DOS and could switch programs w/out closing them on my big, mean 286/16 machine with a 10 mb hard drive and 1024k ram. When I was all done, I had my thesis and the book in hand. I was 30 years old and I told Georgia "I can die now."

But, I didn't. I'm still here as you may have noticed.

I'm revising the falconry book, but I not going to revise my thesis. Funny story about THAT. After graduating, I set out to get a "paper" published from my thesis ("Differential migration of Sharp-shinned and Cooper's hawks in NE Nevada"). So, I pulled data out, slapped it around, and sent it off to The Condor or The Auk, I don't remember which. It came back with "Where's N?" N being "total sample size". Well, that's a dumb thing to miss in a peer-reviewed paper! I went to my thesis to get the missing magic number and....not there. After going thru my 3 committee members, the dean's office, and independent reviewers NO ONE noticed that "N" was missing!!! Incredible. I was in full-tilt working mode by then, so I just tossed everything in a file drawer and forgot about it. I don't even know if I still have a copy of my thesis- I think I threw away the last copy a few years ago. I suppose I should go down to the barn, dig around in boxes, and see.

Yeah, Science!!!

Book progress!

And so, that's the story of the orange equipment book.  I should post this blurb from the new edition:

About the Authors
Bryan Kimsey became a falconer and NAFA member in 1983 and has flown hybrid falcons, prairie falcons, peregrine falcons, Harris's hawks, redtails, a ferruginous hawk, and Cooper's hawks. 

Jim Hodge has been a falconer and NAFA member since 1970 and has flown redtails, Harris' hawks, kestrels, peregrine falcons, and hybrid falcons.   

Kimsey and Hodge met in a trapping blind in south Texas in 1986 in which Hodge proposed the idea for this book. Kimsey thought it was a good idea and had nothing better to do so over the next 5 years he did the bulk of the writing while Hodge collected information and handled logistics and together they got the book done. The 2nd edition has been a long time coming but here it is- we hope you find it useful.

Special thanks to Bob, Ellen, Don, Heather, Natasha, Paul, Jeff, Manny, Michael, Mario, Brandi, Rich, Chris, Tom, Greg and all the rest of my "falconry family". You are great friends who have given me much encouragement.

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction: Thoughts on Creativity, Interaction, Euphoria, and Depression

I typed something to a friend the other day and it's been lurking in my subconscious ever since.  I said "I live in a vacuum and feedback is important to me".  That just kind of slipped off the keyboard but when I was awake at 4 am this morning pondering my role in The Universe, I realized just how true that statement is. I crave feedback. I find that when I make a comment or an allusion or play my guitar or write something or whatever, that I do so because I want a response. If there's a response, I get a little rush. I'm sure this response is due to bodily chemical reaction that results in an addiction of sorts. At the same time, if I'm expecting a response and I don't get one, then the rush doesn't happen and a mild depression follows instead.

By "feedback", I really mean "interaction". For instance, I love questions. Whether we're in Sunday school or shooting bows or doing falconry or playing guitar, if someone says "Hey, what do you think about ______?" or "Hey, how do you do _______?" (it's a little known fact that my first name is really "Hey"), well, that's a rush. At the same time, I equally love it when someone feeds me, especially in an interactive way.  In other words, I don't really like going to conferences and listening to speakers and not interacting with them.  I want to sit down across a table with a cup of coffee and interact. I want them to ask questions of me and me to ask questions of them. There are fewer things I'd rather do, really, than give and take.

Good music is like this and that's why I like playing good music. I've been in jams with two or three good players who listen to each other and we've traded breaks back and forth for hours, sometimes playing the same tune for 10-15-20 minutes. I remember one jam in particular with two young hotshots from South Plains College where we did exactly this. I played something, one of them built upon that, the next kid took it somewhere else, it came back to me and I modified it, and around and around and around we went. The incredible Anne Luna (I call her "The World's Best Bass Player" for good reason) was playing bass for us and had to leave momentarily to go pop a blister on her finger; that's how intense that jam was. And that, folks, is an extremely satisfying thing. It's also fairly rare but once you've experienced it, you'll seek it out for the rush.

Then there's musical situations where no one listens and there's no feedback. I can remember several gigs like that but one in particular stands out- we were playing at an arts fair in Boise ID.  There was a large lawn space in front of the stage and people would go out of their way to walk around that space. No one stopped to listen to our little band (and I don't think we were THAT bad!). Worse, no one in the band was listening to each other. It came time for me to take a solo and I stepped up to the mike and continued to play rhythm. No one raised their eyebrows or winked or did anything other than continue to stare at their own instruments. Now, I suppose one could say "Well, you should be playing for yourself!" and you'd have a point, but I don't have to lug my guitar to the car, drive an hour, unload, and stand in the hot summer sun to play for myself. I go out so that I can reap what I sow. And when I expect to reap and it doesn't happen, it's extremely unsatisfying. I can't play "background music" for this reason. If one, just one, person listens and I can have a "conversation" with that one person, I'm happy, but to sit and play without that interaction... ugh. Unsatisfying. Downright depressing, really- no one cares!  Well, not really, but that's what it feels like.

I enter guitar and mandolin contests largely for the feedback. There you are in front of a panel of "blind" judges. They can't see you, don't know who you are, and you're there just to play and see how you stack up. This feedback either encourages me to continue- if I do well- or it spurs me to work harder- if I do well, but not quite well enough to win. It rarely totally discourages me because I hate to quit, especially when I've set a goal for myself.  I do music videos and put them on my YouTube channel for this same reason- I want feedback.  I got this comment the other day and it just made my day:

Bryan, your demos remind me of the great Jimmy Connors,who back in the mid 1970's demonstrated that he could crush the daylights out of a tennis ball,just using a cut off broom!You could basically make any guitar sound fabulous and I doubt anyone will disagree.

As a guy with hearing aids in each ear who's been deaf since age 6, this is very satisfying feedback. It says "you're doing something right".

You might consider this "ego building" but I disagree because it's equally satisfying if someone feeds me. Like I said earlier, I love it when someone say "Have you considered _____?" and then proceeds to feed an already existing interest.  New interests are harder for me to accommodate because my Interest Jar is already pretty full and bringing in something new means something old's gotta go, but when someone brings something to the table that expands an existing interest, that is very satisfying. In fact, if I don't get fed, I'm going to go seek A Feeder. This is really why I take lessons, and it's why one on one lessons are better than a book- interaction. I need both Feeders and I need to Feed. When one's missing, I'm not satisfied.

Now, the creativity part.  I create things- whether they be musical or written (like, um...this blog) because I want interaction. I want to enrich someone's life with something that I've created but I also want to know that I've enriched their life- feedback! To know that I've enriched someone is a very satisfying thing. To be unable to do this is unsatisfying.

The first year after David's death, I had zero creativity. I played almost no guitar- my primary instrument, where I expect myself to create- but focused on mandolin. There, I played Celtic tunes by rote with no variation, no improvisation, and no creativity. No creativity meant that I had nothing to offer.  Nothing to offer means no feedback. No feedback means no satisfaction.  No satisfaction means depression. Depression means no desire for creativity.  It's a vicious cycle. The one thing that would draw me out of that cycle was someone asking a question. When someone asks for something, it means that they want help and helping people is satisfying. Satisfaction drives depression away. Temporarily, at least.  I noticed that, for the first time in my life, the euphoria of satisfaction would be followed by a depression, the only way out of which was to wait for another question. That first year was tough.  There were times when I'd be in the shop, the darkness would hit, and I would have to crawl under my workbench, curl up, and suck my thumb for awhile before I got a grip on it and starting looking at the sunny side again.

Two years after David, I wasn't crawling under the workbench as much and I started playing guitar again, but there was nothing there.  No creativity, just kind of making my fingers move again over stuff that I knew. I went to Kaufman Kamp as a mandolin Kamper, but I placed myself in "Intermediate" instead of  "Advanced" because I couldn't think yet and I didn't want to be challenged.  I just wanted to get moving again. I did very little jamming- mostly listening- but it was that year that I found "The David Mandolin" and that was satisfying.  At Winfield that year, I also did very little jamming, but I started getting my ears back and more importantly, my desire to create via music.

Now, three years after David's death, I feel like I'm gaining my creativity back but only in the past few months. The friend I mentioned at the start of this long post visited us, provided a lot of stimulating discussion about mutual interests, which, in turn, stimulated me to play a lot of guitar and mandolin during which I announced to whoever was listening "I feel like I can play again" by which I really meant "I feel creative again!". After the friend left, I told Georgia "I got fed this week."  That was a satisfying week, followed, of course, by a depressive crash, but not as bad as previous depressions, (helped quite a bit by us leaving to attend a family reunion which was also pretty "satisfying", all in all).  I held on to the good, focused ahead, and kept the creative rush going.  Furthermore, this "feeding" helped me realize how important it is that I, too, get "fed". Between pastoring (Sunday morning, Sunday sermon, Weds eve), Internet guitar forums, guitar customers, and etc, I do so much feeding that it drains me. Normally, I can recharge, but when a bad event happens- in the past 4 years, I've dealt with a lawsuit, severe drought, David's death, and Georgia's cancer- I don't recharge and it just wipes me out.  I need to find people to feed me.

Well, this has been a long post with not very many pictures. It's been said to me that I tend to write posts about stuff that happens and not touchy-feely stuff, so here's a touchy-feely post for you. I've been thinking about this topic a lot lately- thinking about the creative urge, wondering how to fight the post-euphoric crash and maintain a more even keel, and well, here we are.  Your comments and questions are welcomed!  :)

Here's an obligatory picture.

L-R:
Martin D-28 1937 Authentic
Proulx OM/D
Krishot F5 mandolin
Proulx OM/D
Martin D-18 Golden Era

And here's a couple of applicable Bible verses which it would do me well to remember:

Php 4:8 NKJV  Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.

1Th 5:21 NKJV  Test all things; hold fast what is good.

Northbound!

The Family Reunion finished up this morning and after the usual packing and loading, we set out for a side trip to White Sands National Monument.  The original plan was to spend the night in Alamogordo, but I was itching to get home because I have a bunch of incoming guitars to work on and so at 3 pm, we struck out across New Mexico, heading north on a 375 mile trip.  If all went well, we'd be home by 10 pm, which is late and tiring, but it's worth it to be home.  All went well and we got home right on time.

Mandolin picking at White Sands

This time, I shot 15 seconds of video every 50 miles.  Darkness caught us about 120 miles out so I couldn't get the best part of the trip- close to home!- but I did manage to catch the Union County sign in the dark.

Gonna post this up real quick and hit the sack!  This might be my shortest blog post yet.

Southbound

We drove south to El Paso today (a 460 mile trip) and as we went through Alamogordo, I told Georgia (who grew up there)- "There's Harris' hawks here now".  This is interesting because Harris' hawks didn't used to be there and have moved into the area in recent years. Derek perked up and started pointing out raptors on the telephone poles. I said, "No... they won't be up there. They're more likely down in the lower trees like... um... those mesquite" and then I point to 2 Harris' hawks sitting in a mesquite tree.  Ha!

Decades ago, we were at the Sonoran Desert Museum near Tucson. I had yet to see a wild HH so I asked the lady there "are there any Harris' hawks here?" She says "not very many- they're pretty rare." We get in the car and drive about a mile and there at the top of a saguaro is a large adult HH.

Another time, I was driving down a remote NM road with a friend talking about redtails and describing the brown tail of the immature. I look out the passenger side window and surfing along in the truck's wake is... an immature RT hawk. It stayed with us for 1/4 mile and my passenger got a great look at the brown tail of an immature RT hawk.

It's almost like magic sometimes.

On the way down, I decided to video the scenery to sort of document the changing terrain- and boy, does it change from our house to El Paso!  We went from high plains grasslands, down through the pinon/juniper country, then through yucca country, and finally into the rocky Mexican desert of El Paso.  The yuccas went from ground level to 10 feet tall or more, the rocks went from sharp round volcanic to sharp flat granite.  The hills go from smooth and rolling to mostly straight up and down. And the moisture went from snow to non-existent. If' we'd gone through Taos to pick up the alpine stuff, I think we could have crossed most of the major life-zones in the U.S. on this trip. Here we go....

First, we stopped in Las Vegas for a brunch at the excellent Charlie's Spic 'n Span.  We started off with fun stuff:

Appetizers

Followed by a most excellent green chili breakfast burrito. This was one of the green chili things that you could smell a good 12" from your nose. I had no trouble eating the whole thing and drinking 2-3 cups of the coffee.

This is New Mexico Food

Properly stuffed, we hit the road again and promptly missed our exit.  No worries- we just proceeded on down the road and took NM 3, a small and lonely road also heading south.  That's where the video record starts.

Following are some comments I jotted down:

Duran is leaving the high country and starting out through the central grasslands. There's less moisture here and more yuccas.

The Corona area is full of pinyon/juniper and used to be full of deer- might still be. Once when Georgia and I were still dating, we were driving up to the ranch and going through Corona about 2 am.  I was asleep, G was driving, and I suddenly woke up, grabbed the steering wheel, yelled "watch out for the deer!!!", and then fell asleep again.  I can't believe she stuck with me after that.

Approaching Carrizozo, the country is definitely moving into the tall yuccas. It's getting drier and the grass is getting much sparser.  I did raptor surveys for 2 years in the country to your right (west), all the way to the AZ border.

Running alongside the Jornada del Muerto or Journey of the Dead Man. This is a flat, dry basin running most of the length of central New Mexico. It's home to White Sands Missile Range now.

Just outside Alamogordo is where we saw the Harris' hawks.  Note the tall yuccas and tall mesquite trees. The soil is sandy and this is some seriously dry country.

At the end of this journey, these are some seriously steep mountains.  Hueco Tanks State Park- a famous bouldering area is just around the ridge to the right.



Coming.... "Northbound"!

Dig a hole, dig a hole in the meadow

Or in the pasture at least.

We're getting ready for another cattle season- my 20th- and this involves turning all the mills and pumps and making sure they all work.  Last year, a leak developed in the pipeline that feeds 7 tubs in 3 pastures and we needed to fix it.  I wrote:

This is our Ranch Job for the day. This well takes water to 5 tanks scattered thru 3 different pastures and the pipeline has a leak. Our Mission- whether or not we accept it- is to find the leak and stop it. After some manipulation of valves and water pressure, we verified the leak, did some digging and found the culprit. Later today, after things have dried off, we'll issue the appropriate correction which we will accomplish by means of blowtorch and clamp pressure, followed by dirt and shovels. If all goes well (<= see what I did there?), this draining leak will be stopped.

Finding the leak was the problem, but I solved it by turning the pump and getting some pressure in the line.  Within minutes, water was bubbling to the surface and we then dug.

Derek at the hole

Mission accomplished (I hope). I unscrewed the screw-in attachments a little, which gave me almost 1/2" more length, heated the pipe, jiggled everything together a bit, added 2 hose clamps while pipe was still warm, and so far, so good! And I see why I had to add these connectors in the first place... one side is 1 1/4" black pipe and the other is 1 1/2" so I had to use a step-down connector.

Leak stopped

Climbing mill towers (note Ranger!)

Raccoon tracks at mill

I was making my morning cup of fresh-ground, pour-over coffee one morning when I noticed:

Moonset to the West and....

...sunrise to the East

Always a nice sight here on the plains:

Storm on the horizon...

...gave us 1/4" of rain.

And now we just wait for cattle, more rain, green gas, and Lord willing, a good season.  There will be some new challenge this year, I'm sure of it.

Springing Forward...

...after "Fall-ing" back.

As is the routine, it's been a long time between posts.  My last post was elk hunting in the fall. Winter has now come and gone and spring's on the near horizon. It's time to spring back and catch up. Here's what happened over the winter:

First, here's how we ended the fall- LOTS of old grass.  This might be the best end-of-season I've seen in a decade.  All of this grass is still here come spring and it held the winter snow in place.

Sitting in a sea of grass

We got a wood stove installed last fall and it was GREAT!  It's a Lopi Endeavor re-burning wood stove.  This is not your grandad's wood stove where most of the heat goes up the chimney.  This one recirculates gasses and reburns them, for a near 90% efficiency rate.  It cut our propane bill by 2/3 and, while it didn't keep the entire house toasty, it did give us a "hot spot" in the living room where we could sit and be warm.

Pre-stove

Post-stove

Falconry-wise, I started the season with a fresh-taken female prairie falcon.  We didn't get along well- to be fair to her, I was trying a different training technique- and ended up parting ways.  After some effort, I trapped a passage redtailed hawk- only my 4th RT in 30+ years of falconry- in December and flew her for the rest of the season.  She's an interesting bird in that she follows and flies beautifully, but doesn't seem to know what bunnies are.  Because she tries to swallow all of her food whole, I think she'd mostly been a mouse hawk until I trapped her. I'm going to molt her and fly her another season and then probably let her go. I have a Cooper's hawk in mind and possibly another prairie falcon.

2 weeks out of the trap.  She loves me (not).

5 weeks out of the trap

Falconry was mostly a disappointment this year, but that's also mostly my fault since I was fooling around with the prairie falcon and didn't get the RT until December and trained until mid-January. By then, the surviving bunnies are smart and hard to catch and we don't have that many anyway. We had some good flights but ended the season score-less.  We did make it to the North American Falconer's Association Meet in Lubbock TX and I was hoping for a good week of hawking there, but Derek took ill the first day and spent the whole week sick in bed.  Because of this, we bailed mid-week and came on home where he continued to run a 100 deg fever for a full week.  So that was a bummer. At the meet, though, I did win the pole perch I'm using in the above picture, talk to a lot of people about the upcoming revision to "Falconry Equipment", visit with friends, eat some good food, and more or less relax a bit.

January and February rolled by with the main excitement being the birth of our first grandchild via Quenten and Brianna in February. In January, the ranch got a new 2014 Polaris Ranger XP 900. I've been looking at these for years, and the time seemed right to get one, so we did.  It arrived Jan 2 and between then today (March 12), I have started the ranch Ford F250 a grand total of 3 times.  If the Ranger stays reliable, it should prove to be a very useful vehicle.

Cutting firewood from the new Ranger

In March, our friend Heather, falconer/horse/dog trainer stopped for a visit on her gypsy way from Texas back to Montana.  It ended up snowing nearly the entire week, trapping her here, and we played games, talked training and music, watched movies, and had just a generally good time.  Derek made a new friend and learned a lot about training animals. We really enjoyed having her visit and were sad to see her go.

Derek and Heather compare falcons

Also in March (the 7th and 9th, to be exact), Georgia and I observed our 29th wedding anniversary and I passed 53 years old.  Here's what I said about that on Facebook:

As of today, Georgia and I have been married for 29 years. That's, like, almost 3 decades. There are countries that haven't lasted as long (I don't know which ones, but it sounds good on paper). We've been thru celebrated births (3 kids), tragic deaths (buried one of them), cross-country moves, dramatic career changes, a lawsuit, poverty, (relative) prosperity, cancer, conversions, college, drought, near-disasters, a few easy years, and more (that I can't remember), and are still kicking along. 

Also on the radar, on Monday, I will be 53 years old. I long ago ran out of the good years for Martin D's ('34-38) and am now fixing to run out of good years for Telecasters ('50-54). After this, I'll be living in Stratocaster Years ('54-64). If I make past those, I suppose I'll have a few years of Fender Blackface amps ('64-67), the volume of which I'll undoubtedly need at that point, providing I can even hear at all by then. I don't know what I'll latch on to if I make it past the Blackface stage. Guess I'll cross that bridge then, if. None of this will make the least bit of sense to non-guitar-weenies, of course, but it's how I put history in perspective.

This past week, Derek's cows started giving birth, bringing more excitement.  We lost the first one- whether due to a still birth or the snow storm, I don't know.  The 2nd was one born the next day and is doing well, as of this writing.

Derek is now a cattleman

The cow that lost her calf tries to claim this one.  We separated her out.

And now, having caught up, let's take a look at Ranch Life in the next post!

Elk Adventure 2014

A few years...scratch that.. FIVE years ago, I achieved a life-long goal when I took a cow elk and last blog report, I talked about hunting.  Now, the cow elk was pretty cool, but I love bull elk antlers and so my next goal was a bull elk, even better if I could call one in and hear it bugle at me.  Elk license in hand, that's what we set out to do last week.  Here's my report.

Scouting, Friday:

My long-time falconer friend, Michael Melloy came up from ABQ to go hunting with me.  During scouting on Friday afternoon, we hiked up to some areas that Derek and I had located while turkey hunting back in April.  On the hike in, we bumped into- almost literally- a medium sized black bear that was feeding along the slope.  Mike had his camera out, I had my .40 S&W out.... we had a stare down until I played Bear Whisperer and said "Yo, what up, homey?" and he eased off (although we bumped into him again later).  Unlike April, we saw a couple of turkeys, too.  On the trip out, Mike spotted one small 4x4 bull sparring with a couple of cattle. He's not the elk I'm looking for so we just ignored him.

Bear on hillside

Day 1, Saturday:

Mike and I headed out in the early morning and watched a nice bull with some cows moving away from some other hunters.  We pursued, but we lost them in the timber.  The weather quickly got warm, so we just sat and glassed for a long time.  After awhile, a spike came up from the lower elevation, again probably pushed by other hunters and we followed him a little bit before deciding to head home and trying to trap a prairie falcon for Mike.

Saturday's view

There's an elk!  In that canyon 5 miles over....

Day 2, Sunday:

We did church and then after a solid "Mexican Steak" at Sierra Grande Restaurant, we were ready to explore some new country in the afternoon. We bid Mike farewell, as he had to return to his day-job, and Derek and I headed out. We hiked up a ridge and glassed both sides where I found a good bull about about a mile away across two canyons. The wind was not in our favor and it would be a brutal haul getting him out, so we decided against going after him (and back home, I confirmed that he was on private land).

Working the other side of the ridge, we found lots of rubs but not much fresh poo, and no elk. Saw a couple of mule deer and I heard my first coyotes. I have some new hearing aids that give me a lot of "sound" and I swear those coyotes were RIGHT THERE. Derek thought they were close, too, mabye just over a hill we'd just walked over, so we took a look but didn't spot them in the falling light.

Heading back to our ATV's in the dark, rocky, rough downhill, we got caught up in a herd of Longhorn mommas and calves also moving down the hill. I didn't know this herd and didn't want to get speared by a big protective cow with 6' long horns, so we moved to the side, over-shot our ATV's by about 3/4 mile, and ended up getting a ride back from the rancher.  It was tough walking down the ultra-rocky mountain in the dark- one of my least favorite parts of hunting- but we made it out alive. It was 10 pm when we got home.


Day 3, Monday:

I had a lot of work to do, including shipping a guitar and reorganizing some gear, and Derek and I were both tired from the previous evening, so we decided to take a break until Tues.  I got my work done and spent a lot of time fooling with Google Earth, finding the much desired topographic overlay that I'd been wanting for a long time.  Derek went to his first 4H meeting and all in all, it was a good break.  We spent the night at church, it being just a few minutes away from our destination on Tues.

The Mighty Assistant Hunter takes a break

Day 4, Tuesday:

With instructions from the rancher, Derek and I headed out to a new place, getting a good early start from our church vantage point.  Riding along in the dark down a new road, we only got lost a few times.  At the start, I'd noticed that Derek had his pack tied to the rear of his ATV.  I told him "I like to tie mine up front, so if it falls off I'll see it".  He thought it was snug so off we headed, me leading.  When we finally got to our destination and dismounted our steeds, I heard Derek's "UGH!!!" and sure 'nuff... the pack was gone.  We headed back and I left him to look in a meadow where we'd taken a few wrong trails while I headed down the main road.  About 2 miles later, I found his pack.  But, no big deal as the sun was just up and I was able to do some glassing of the nearby hillside on my way back to him.

We wisely GPS'ed the ATV's and then headed up the mountain.  Before long, to our surprise and delight, we found an old jeep trail leading up the mountain and we gladly took this road up.  About a mile up, Derek grabbed me and said "I hear a bugle!"  I bugled and cow called and Derek said I got a response, but we couldn't get the bull in and it went on downhill.  We hiked on up to the top of the mountain and glassed from several locations without seeing anything. Discouraged, we decided to head down.

Tuesday's office view

About a mile and half down, I spotted an inviting little glade out of the sun and decided to take a rest break.  As we plopped down, Derek said "try your call"  so I gave one little cow call on my Primos diaphragm and a bull exploded _right behind us_. We scrambled across the trail and I hid behind a boulder with Derek about 10 yards behind me against a tree.  We called again, including a short, weak bugle from me, and the bull in the woods answered back with a scream.  Derek whispered "He's coming!!!" and we sat still.  Suddenly, the woods echoed with a screaming bellow that sounded like a very angry Brahma bull. I wear 2 hearing aids and can't hear bugles unless they're close and, believe me, I heard that one!!! I heard the breath intake, the resonance, and _everything_. It was LOUD!!!! I saw a sudden dark spot appear in the trees not 10' from where we'd been sitting and there he was... not 50 yards from us.  He stayed in the trees, out of sight, so after a minute or so, I motioned for Derek to do another cow call on his Primos Hootchie Mama, which is a squeeze-type call. That did it. The bull erupted from the timber, heading straight for us.

Before the hunt, I'd said I wanted a 6x6 350 bull, but Derek and I discussed this earlier and decided that the closer to the road we were, the smaller the bull could be.  As the bull bolted toward us, I had just a split second to make a decision. In my scope, I saw 4 really good points, a good spread, and good height. Given the proximity to a road (1 mile!), this being the next to last day, the first bull in my sights, the fact that at this distance a quick kill was virtually guaranteed, and the fact that- cool as they are- you can't eat antlers.... I put the crosshairs right at the junction of the front shoulder and neck and let my .280 rip at the whopping distance of 30 yards.  The bull ran in a complete circle and dropped just behind some trees.  I looked back at Derek and his eyes were like saucers! We waited as long was we could stand (30 seconds, at least!) and approached the huge animal.  That's when I discovered that the bull was a solid 5x5 with tiny 6th points. No monster, but a perfectly respectable elk for a public land, Do-It-Yourself hunt.  Derek repeated over and over "Wow... he's BIG!"

First (and probably last!) bull elk

Loaded up and ready to go

Funny hoof 

My daughter and new son-in-law were at the house and graciously offered to come help pack out. SIL being a former packing house butcher, I eagerly accepted the help.  Derek and I quartered the elk and then went the mile to the ATV's and 4 miles back to the HQ to pick up Brianna and Quenten and my game cart.  Another mile hike up the hill and Q got to work boning the meat while I worked the elk's head loose from his body. We got back to the parked ATV's right at dark and made it to the restaurant for a greatly appreciated supper.  Back home, the meat went in our walk-in cooler for processing later this week.

Elk Packer Selfie

Whew.... that was tiring just typing all that!  What an adventure.  I'm happy to report that my knees held up great- thanks maybe to Tommie Copper and Pro-Tec knee braces, maybe thanks to more exercise over the summer?  Who knows.  I felt good.

I have two more hunting goals coming up: 1) I still want to take a duck with a prairie falcon and 2) I still have not taken any big game animal with my bow. Bowhunting mule deer in January, and hoping to catch a duck with my new falcon.