The Collarbone Incident

This is the longest I've ever gone between blog updates and it's time to catch up.  The biggest news is that I broke my collarbone on Aug 28 and had to have it plated and screwed. How did that happen, you ask?  Dirt bikes is how.  If you've been following me, you know that Derek wanted to start riding dirt bikes, so I made it happen in Jan '16 by buying a set of bikes for us- a Honda CRF150F for him and a Yamaha TT-R 230 for me.  We sampled the dirt biking world, riding in the open area of the Canadian River, the mountains around Red River, our own creek, and around our little home-made track.  After all this, we decided that the mountains were our least favorite simply because of the distance and time required to get there and we like track riding best, followed by the Canadian River.

Derek was getting better on the bike and I suggested we look into getting better (read "faster and better suspended") bikes.  Which we did, by buying a '15 KX100 and '16 KX250F brand-new from Hester's Motosports in Raton.  Here's our first ride on them- Derek's first time ever actually kick-starting a bike (the Honda was electric start), first time on a 2-stroke, and 1st time on a real motocross track. This was just a quick break-in ride on the way home from the shop.  Before you critique, Derek's real riding gear was sitting at home in a box- he's wearing full padding underneath his street clothes.

Two days after this, we went back to the track to actually ride.  I was super-impressed with the KX250F and was quickly making all the jumps except for two doubles.  If you don't know what a "double" is, it's a gap jump where you leave one jump face, cross a gap, and land on the next jump face. There's not much margin for error on these things. But, my KX250F can easily do them, so after a little practice and concentration, I went for it.  I cleared the easier of the two- a 50' gap- easily and then went after the harder of the two. This one has a much more pointed landing ramp but it's the same distance.

The double jump

I reared back, gave it gas, and poooooommmmm..... cleared the landing ramp by 10'!  The hard thing about this is that there's a bowl turn immediately after the ramp and when you land there, it's kind of a harsh landing.  The best thing to do is land on the landing ramp. So, Jump #2, I did that.  Jump #3, I did that.  Jump #4.... I came out of the darkness, wondering how long I'd been lying there, what day of the week it was, and did anyone know I was there?  Then I felt a burning pain in my right shoulder and I knew I'd broken my collarbone. There was no way around it. Here's the thing (there's always a "thing", right?). The previous night I'd had a dream where I'd broken my collarbone and in the dream I thought "Oh well, everyone breaks their collarbone!"  Then, Georgia didn't want to go to the track with us because she had a bad cough and I said "You'd better go because you might need to drive me to the hospital."  Of course, I didn't tell her either of these things until afterwards.

So, I woke up in the dirt.  My bike was over there, my helmet camera mount was there, and the camera (loose from the mount!) was yonder.  Something went wrong.  What, I don't know.  I just remember heading toward the jump. Well, it'll be cool video anyway.  But guess what I found out?  The camera switch wasn't on, so no video of the crash.  Georgia was reading a book. She missed it.  Derek was on the other side of the track. He missed it.  I firmly believe that I was abducted by aliens while mid-flight, tested for intelligence, virility, good looks, and common sense and then rudely slammed back to Earth hard enough to knock the memory from my head.  Georgia and Derek arrived and helped me up,  I made it back to the pit area and, fortuitously, a relative of the track owner happened along just then. He helped load the bikes up and then we were off to the Emergency Room.

On the way to the ER!

At the ER, I got X-rayed and here's what we found:

First X-ray

Well, no doubt about it now.  That's a break. At first it looks like 3 pieces of bone with a gap in between, but after they got put back together, I saw that wasn't the case as we'll see in a minute. The crash happened Saturday. Monday, we got an appointment with Christos St. Vincent Sports Orthopedics in Santa Fe for Weds. By the time Tues rolled around, this is what I looked like:

This is kind of painful

When we got there- and the car ride down was possibly one of the most painful parts of the thing as I couldn't get comfortable in the front seat- I got fresh X-rays which revealed that the loose bone fragment had shifted around.  I was in a lot of pain, but knowing that surgery was going to happen the next day helped me tough it out.  The surgeon said "Okay, surgery on Thurs!" and left.  I breathed a big sigh of relief.  Then he popped back in and said "That's NEXT Thurs... we have an emergency to do tomorrow."  Oh, man!!!  A WEEK more of this?!  Note that I was not on any painkillers at this time as I didn't want to deal with constipation, upset stomach, and possible addiction. The Dr's prescribed Percocet and, back home, I took one to help me sleep.  I then had a nightmare in which the collarbone broke through the skin and I was bleeding to death but couldn't get out of the couch because the blood made it too slippery.  So... no more of that!  In the interim week, I managed the pain fairly well with alternating Tylenol and Ibuprofen. Once I got past the hump and the time was getting closer to surgery, I started actually getting used to it. Every time I started to feel like the pain was too much,  I asked myself the question "What Would Hugh Glass Do?" and then I didn't feel very bad at all. At least I didn't have to worry about infection from grizzly bite, you know?

At Santa Fe- where's the bone piece?

FINALLY, the day of surgery came and I've never been happier to get knocked out.  Anesthesia is a funny thing.  I was supposed to help them move myself from my gurney to the operating table, but I don't remember any of that.  The last thing I remember is leaving the staging area and then waking up.  Back home, here's what it looked like:

After surgery

A week later, we were back and here's what I look like now.  The two "loose" screws are holding the floating chip back in place.  If you look at the X-ray, you can now see that the loose piece broke off the bottom of both sides of the main bone.  So, the main bone broke in half and an "inferior" piece then broke off the bottom of both of those. The 2 screws are holding that piece up the main sections.

The plate and the screws.

After all this, I did 4 weeks of passive physical therapy where the PT moved my arm for me.  I quickly rigged up my Bowflex machine at home as a pulley so I could do this myself.  At first, let me tell you, it hurt to move stuff. I had a definite "catch" in my muscles when bringing my arm down. My PT found this muscle and massaged the catch out and I improved a little each week. After 4-5 weeks, I went back to the Dr for more X-rays and check ups and then he approved me to do "light lifting and active physical therapy".  Well, that's good because the next day was elk season and Derek had a tag for a bull elk.  So, long story, short:

Derek's first elk! On our property, too!

Packing out an elk in the dark.
This is "light exercise", right?

After a great stalk, Derek had a 75 yard shot straight down into this bull's back and dropped him with 1 shot from his 7mm-08. We only had to pack 0.15 mile to reach the Polaris Ranger.  Granted, it was uphill, in the dark, over the rocks, but I just kept the pack strap off my bad shoulder and toughed it out.  

After this, I started active physical therapy for another 6 weeks and then, finally, in early December, was cleared for full activity.  Of course, I immediately went riding.  Okay, well, I'd already ridden a few times prior but we're not going to say anything about that, right?  I mean, c'mon, I'd only ridden the KX250F for 1 hour before the crash, I was dying to ride the thing, so I took a few super-easy laps around our front yard track.  After being cleared for good, I started working on building muscle again using the Bowflex, a kettlebell, free weights, and stretching.

Looking back, here's what I learned:

1) a collarbone break is painful, but it will pass.

2) I watched a lot of TV from the recliner. TV gets old fast- there is so much junk on there.  Two programs, though, stand out. Steve Rinella's "Meat Eater" is the best hunting show I've ever seen, hands-down.  No guides, DIY, with lots of tips on meat care, cooking, etc.  "The American Bible Challenge" was great.  I really enjoyed it and Derek and I did our best to answer all the questions.

3) Sometimes you crash when going for it. 

4) Do the physical therapy!!!!

5) I could afford a $6000 motorcycle but I hadn't counted on an additional $6000 in out-of-pocket insurance costs!  If you ride, ski, run, walk, or breathe, I suggest keeping your OOPs (<  see what I did there?) on hand!

Next time, I'll talk about the elk hunt.

Altitude is good for the attitude

Goose Lake is a high lake near Red River, NM. The rocky, steep, Jeep trail starts at 8500' and runs to 11,500'. I've never been up and Derek's never ridden real off-road trails on his dirt bike, so we planned a trip. Leaving home at around 8 am, we stopped in Cimarron NM at the Cree-Me Drive Inn, which has the best soft-serve ice cream in the world. It was too early for ice cream and burger, so we "settled" for breakfast instead. Well... my breakfast burrito turned out to be one of the best I've ever had and Derek took 3 bites of his pancakes and said "These are really good!" He rarely says things like that. After stuffing ourselves, we continued on to Red River.

Our RV park (Roadrunner RV) ended up being right next to the Goose Lake trailhead which made things easy. We pulled in at 11 am and got camp set up. After some thinking, we decided to ride the Goose Lake Trail first, then go fishing a bit, and then ride the Greenie Peak (11,400', too) and Moonlight Meadow trails the next day.

Off we went! Now, remember, Derek just started riding a dirt bike in February. Goose Lake Trail started with a steep and loose shale ascent. I was about 100 yards up when I spotted a Polaris Razr coming down the trail. Turning quickly to find Derek, I promptly crashed, landing hard on my butt. Derek also crashed and couldn't pick his bike up on the slick surface. So, I parked mine, walked down, got him started, pointed out the line, and off he went. I took off, waved at the Polaris, and up we went. After that rocky start, things went well, although it seemed like we climbed forever. Finally, up near the lake we got some downhill time and in a fairly short time- it's only a 7 mile ride- we arrived at the lake. I, unfortunately, left the mount for my helmet cam at home, so I just have stills to show you.

In the parking lot at 11,500'.
Derek is glad to not be battling rocks.

Derek is growing

Goose Lake

The ring of rocks

The lake was surprisingly pretty- a crystal clear little thing surrounded by a ring of rock, snow still in place. It's a popular place and there were numerous ATV's, Polaris Rangers, and such in the parking lot. We were the only bikes, though. After some photos and observation, we headed back down, during which both Derek and I observed that we needed to adjust our rear brakes! On the ride down, my butt started hurting from the fall and it being only 1 pm, I thought maybe we should go ahead and tackle the other ride and save fishing for the 'morrow. So, we loaded up and off we went! Again!The other ride starts on the opposite end of town and winds thru some pretty fun trails. Uphill, downhill, level but with water washouts... it's a great ride up to Greenie Peak. From there, you can go back down and branch off one of two different ways to make a big loop. We rode that one and Derek proclaimed it as "much better" than the other ride. By this time, we were tired and hungry and stopped at "Anchovies Pizza" in town where we had a pepperoni- artichoke heart/olive/tomato mix. It was pretty good- not quite as good as Bruno's in Raton, but still pretty good. We'd definitely eat there again.

Sittin' on top of the world.

Derek with clouds

Wondering if we're gonna get wet (we didn't)

 After a nice night's sleep in our new Casita (3 Ibuprofen later, my butt quit hurting), we went fishing. I don't have much to report there except that there is a steep curve where fly fishing along brush choked little streams are concerned. After a rough start (I already used "rocky start"....) during which my BOA laced wading boots lace broke and I had to use a leader to shut, which necessitated rebuilding my leader/tippet, we caught nothing. The Red River was whipping and places where there's normally pools were raging rapids. We packed up and headed over to Eagle Nest to visit Eagle Nest Fly Shack and get my boots re-wired, and then grab some food. Got all that done, eating at Kaw-Lija's where we had a breakfast burrito and pancakes again. We agreed that the food was good, but not quite as good at the Cree-Me Drive Inn. Nevertheless, we'd eat there again, you betchya.

Bed-time in the Casita

Fueled with food and information, we headed for Cimarron Canyon to fish more. Amidst much line tangling and fly losing, Derek snagged 2 small brown while I had several strikes but nothing solid. Tired and grumpy, we headed home but not before stopping in Ute Park for real, 100% gasoline, no ethanol added and in Cimarron at....you guessed it!... the Cree-Me Drive Inn for soft-serve ice cream.  And a few hours later, tired, we arrived home just in time for it to start pouring rain. As I write this, just over a 1" of badly needed moisture has fallen.  This is, literally, awesome.

All in all, an excellent adventure. Derek got to ride his dirt bike off-road for the first time, we both went to Goose Lake, we ate at 3 new places, we camped in the Casita... good stuff!

Fishers of....fish

(Mat 4:18-19 NKJV)  And Jesus, walking by the Sea of Galilee, saw two brothers, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. Then He said to them, "Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men."

I figure that since more than one of Jesus' disciples were fishermen, it might behoove one to become a fisher of fish before becoming a fisher of men.  Because, like, if you can't fish for fish, then how are you going to fish for men's souls?  If you can't fish?  You know?  I mean, is this logic or what?!  So, to this end, a few years ago we set out to become fishermen. 

Now, I fished in my youth, but it was bass fishing on small prairie potholes. You cast a lure in the water and like as not a hungry largemouth bass smacked it right away.  If one didn't, then you moved to the next pond.  This is radically different from lake fishing. Small pond fishing is more like fishing for men at a "We Want To Know Jesus!" conference. There are limited choices and the fish there are hungry. It's easy. Lake fishing- where there is a lot of water and many more choices in food, shelter, and depth for our sought-after fish- is more like fishing for souls at a Rolling Stones concert. It's gonna be a tough one and um...Keef!!!!  Start me up, man!!!  Sorry... where was I?  Anyway, having found justification for my fishing ("seek, and you shall find...", right?), and, um... let's ignore the fact that I only found justification after I was well into fishing again, shall we?... here's where we're at, fishing-for-fish-wise.

We started fishing after David's death. Couple of reasons for that. First, none of the 3 kids could swim and I didn't want to worry about them falling in and drowning, esp David who was physically weak. I also didn't want to spend all my time untangling rods and such. There were other things we did- archery, traveling, museums- so we did those things. Afterward, Brianna was old enough to handle herself and I got Derek swimming a bit. They both wanted to fish, so off we went.  We hit nearby Clayton Lake once or twice and got skunked. Then we discovered Gravel Pits Lake in Cimarron Canyon, a kid-friendly little pond stocked with rainbows. That's where we started learning about treble hooks, weights, and Powerbait.  Prior to this, I was using a medium stiffness spinning reel loaded with 10-12 lb test line and big spinners and spoons- bass tackle, in other words. Trout are much more delicate and it wasn't long before I had an array of Light and Ultra-Light rods and small reels loaded with 4 lb test line. 

Derek's first fish, ever, at Gravel Pits- Sept 28, 2012
Still using heavy tackle here.

Our first real success came at Lake Maloya near Raton where we all caught a limit or close to it of trout. 

Derek and Brianna on our first Maloya trip- April 25, 2013

After that, I started going to different lakes around northern New Mexico, exploring and trying them out.  We've hit Morphy Lake twice.  First time was slow- D2 and I caught 4 fish between us. It's hard to get to and I don't think it'll be our favorite lake, although Teresa's Tamales is just down the hill and a worthy stop all by itself.

Morphy Lake

After Morphy, we went back to Lake Maloya and again caught some fish. We've been back to Maloya 6-8 times and have had good fishing every time. I think it might be our favorite lake on the whole.

Lake Maloya

Derek and I went to a 3D archery shoot back in July 2014 and just weren't having much fun so we bailed early to take in some fishing on the way home.  This was our first visit to Coyote Creek and we had a great time there. We didn't catch a lot of fish, but the scenery more than made up for it.

Beaver dam at Coyote Creek 

Clayton Lake is our "local" lake but it took us awhile to figure it out. Eventually, we started catching fish fairly regularly, but it's never a given.  In 2015, I got something new- an inflatable Intex Mariner 3 boat. I've never been a boat person, but it's fun and it's really opened a new door as far as fishing goes. Shortly after this, I bought an Intex Challenger K2 kayak. I like the kayak for its lightweight and maneuverability but it's not as comfortable with 2 people and is obviously much less stable than the boat, I really enjoy using both boats to explore the waters.

Trying the Intex for the first time

Before long, we had to try fly fishing, especially after visiting smaller waters like Coyote Creek and Gravel Pits (and the surrounding Cimarron).  Using points from my Cabela's card, I got us set up with rods and reels and we were off.  There is a steep learning curve with fly fishing and at first, we were not very successful. One thing I learned about fly-fishing is that, unlike normal fishing where bodies of water are referred to as "Lake _____" or "_______ River", you call the place only by its first name.  Thus, the Cimarron River is simply "the Cimarron" and the San Juan River is "the San Juan".  Doing it this way lets people know that you "know". So if you want to sound like you, too, "know", I suggest you start referring to bodies of water by their Christian name. 

Fly fishing the Cimarron

To help get over the Fly-Fishing Learning Mountain, we hired a guide from Eagle Nest Fly Shack.  Tim, the owner, was our guide and both D2 and I learned a lot. That fall, we picked up used waders and boots from them, and applied our lessons on our own.

Learning from our guide

As of this writing, I have yet to catch a brown trout and D2 has yet to catch a rainbow on a fly rod.  We're in competition to see who can be the first to get the other's fish.

A non-guided trout

At Winfield 2015, D2 learned to tie flies.  Several of the Winfield guys are fly-fishermen and D2 and no shortage of help. He's caught trout- brown trout, no rainbows, please note!- on his own hand-tied flies.

Learning to tie flies at Winfield

Next on our list of fish to catch were walleye and bass.  Clayton Lake has them, but Ute Lake has more, so when Heather needed to zip down to Ute Lake to do a falcon exchange, D2 and I were all on board.  There, we met my ex-apprentice, Calvin, and another falconer, Mike, (that's four falconers fishing for fish, in case you lost track) and fished away.  D2 caught two keeper walleye and a couple of bass, plus Mike gave us his bass and we had a meal!  After trout, the walleye and bass were big fish.

First walleye and bass at Ute Lake

A few weeks later, we put our new Casita to use in an overnight stay at Clayton Lake where we caught several nice fish.

Casita Camping at Clayton Lake

The view from my kayak

D2 caught the big one

And then just a few weeks ago, we took the Casita back to Ute Lake where I caught several smallmouth bass, including a few keepers.  Derek didn't catch one until just before we were ready and then hooked one bigger than either of mine.

Ute Lake smallmouth

Well, that's fishing so far. Now that the weather's getting warmer, we're  moving back to the fly streams where I will catch a brown trout. We're both going to catch cuthroat, probably in the Valle Vidal, which is a place I've never been. Or maybe up in Santa Barbara creek, another place I've never been.  Later this year we have plans to head down south to combine fishing with hawking and javelina hunting. We've discussed moving to Logan (home of Ute Lake) in the winter. We can speak bilingually now, switching effortlessly from Spin-Cast to several dialects of Fly-Fishing. We have "A River Runs Through It" memorized- in my case, both the movie and the book. However, don't think that we are good fishermen, I think we still need a lot of practice. And we intended to practice. A lot.

“My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe. To him all good things-trout as well as eternal salvation-come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy.” 

“Well, until man is redeemed he will always take a fly rod too far back, just as natural man always overswings with an ax or golf club and loses all his power somewhere in the air; only with a rod it's worse, because the fly often comes so far back it gets caught behind in a bush or rock.” 

“As a Scot and a Presbyterian, my father believed that man by nature was a mess and had fallen from an original state of grace. Somehow, I early developed the notion that he had done this by falling from a tree. As for my father, I never knew whether he believed God was a mathematician but he certainly believed God could count and that only by picking up God's rhythms were we able to regain power and beauty. Unlike many Presbyterians, he often used the word "beautiful.”
― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories

Hanging with Heather

It's been awhile since I updated my poor little blog.  And that's 'cause I've been pretty busy.  Let's catch up.... In Feb, I mostly worked on guitars and rode dirt bikes a bit.  The weather was decent and we got a fair amount of riding done. Then in early March, our friend Heather stopped by for a visit. Being that she has quite a bit of ranch and livestock experience, I put her to work and her visit turned into a 6-week stay.

First course of action was building fence. I have 2 miles of fence between two pastures that was in pretty bad shape and has been since I got to the ranch nearly 20 years ago (I need to let that sink in for a minute... nearly TWENTY years ago...). I wanted it fixed up.  To that end, I bought a Danuser T3 post driver for my Case skid steer. We worked about 2-3 days/week on the fence and got it all spiffied up with steel posts, re-stretched wire, and some new braces. After some initial hiccups, the Danuser worked beautifully. At one spot, I pounded posts by hand into a dry lake bed.  Later, I drove by with the skid steer and decided to see how much further I could get the very tall posts.  I drove them an additional 2' without even actuating the "pound" part of the driver!  That's when I got impressed.

Miles of fence ahead

Stripping wire, pulling posts, driving new ones

Since Heather has experience with livestock auctions and Derek had some money in the bank to invest, we went to town a couple of times to buy cattle for him. I met with a local rancher the first time and got both his and Heather's opinions on the cattle.  When a likely bunch came up, we bid and won and suddenly Derek was a cattleman!  Back home, we branded, vaccinated, and sprayed with insecticide, all firsts for us.  We ended up buying 6 yearling steers in all. We'll let these gain weight on grass all summer and sell them in the fall, making a (hopeful) profit on the gain. This is a test run to see if we want to buy 20-50-100 yearlings in upcoming years.

I'm holding the gate shut...

.....Heather applies the iron.  Derek and Georgia are go-fers.

In addition to the yearlings, Derek has a herd of 8 momma cows and they started calving this past month. With these, we'll likely keep the heifer calves to build the herd and sell the steers this fall to generate money with which we'll buy more cattle next spring. If all goes well, by the time Derek's ready for college, he'll have a good fund built up.

The first home-grown calf of the year

Another thing we did was go hawking.  Since I met Heather thru falconry and since she brought 3 Harris' hawks with her, flying them seemed the logical thing to do. We flew them mostly in my Cedar Creek canyon which is a pinyon/juniper lined canyon. Bunnies aren't plentiful, but we got 2-4 decent flights every time and caught 1 bunny and a jackrabbit. We also saw a Barbary sheep ewe with a very small lamb in the canyon, a first for everyone. And we got a lot of much needed exercise! I think we fired up to fly Harris's again and I've put an order in for 2 birds for myself for this fall.  So, hopefully, we'll have some news on that later this summer.

Jackrabbit down!

And then we went fishing.  Being originally from Minnesota, H has some fishing tricks up her sleeve including The Art of Filleting, something which we'd never done. We fished pretty much once a week and caught lots of trout.  Derek caught his first walleye, smallmouth, and largemouth bass all in one day at Ute Lake.

Derek with walleye and bass

The above fish, about to be 'et.

I left out a bunch of other fun things- "walking" up to the top of the local mountain (pretty sure I said "climb" but everyone thought they heard "walk"...), looking for prairie falcons, playing Scrabble, visiting Las Vegas NM, feeding cattle, sitting in front of the fire talking, listening to music, and more, but I think you get the idea. We all learned a lot of things from each other, had fun, and it was, in short, A Most Excellent Visit.

Sitting on top of the world....

Alas, all good things must come to end and, in no time at all, it was time for Heather to head home to Montana. After lunch one day we said our "see you in awhile"'s (no "goodbyes", nope!), sent her down the road, and started getting back into our normal routine. That, of course, was quickly punctuated by incoming cattle (going into the pasture which fence we'd just fixed) and just like that, another ranching season begins.

Until next time

First one off the truck

Feed us!

And that brings us up to speed. Every year is an adventure.  What will this one bring?

There is one more thing. We observed what would have been David's 15th birthday with a visit to his grave. Tears were shed, funny stories were told, and- as always- we try to look forward in hope.

Back in the saddle again!

Awhile back, I wrote this on my web site:

I started riding dirt bikes in Jr. High in 1973 with a Honda XR75 and continued to ride through High School (upgrading to a Honda XL125 which I immediately tricked out for dirt riding). I raced a Suzuki RM125 during my last two years of High School (79-80), but sold it to buy my 1st Martin guitar. I bought a very used Honda SL175 (for $175!) while in college and rode it for awhile, but then was bikeless (a sad state of affairs) until about 1987 when I got a 1984 Honda XR200R. Not long afterwards, I bought a 1984 Honda XL200R as a second bike for commuting and for my wife to ride. I sold both bikes about 2 years later, to buy falconry telemetry (these hobbies are all inter-twined!). A long, dry period lasted until March 21, 1998 when I bought a brand-new 1996 Honda XR250 with proceeds from various writing projects, including the Falconry Equipment book (see what I mean about being intertwined?? <g>). The first thing I did upon getting it home was go out and catch some air!  That got me going again and since then I have been bike-less for just a short period.

In Fall 2010 at age 48, I decided it was time to hang up the dirt bike boots while all my joints and bones are still intact.  It was a great ride!

Well, never say "never", I guess.  After a 5 year break, we're back in the game.  Derek, you see, had been making noise about wanting to ride dirt bikes. I think there's a lot to be learned from them besides the actual riding skills (which are useful in themselves). There's mechanic work, trouble-shooting, economics, time-management, and more. I freely credit my dirt biking with many of the skills I have today, a large chunk of which have enabled me to do guitar repair.

Talking about dirt bikes during Christmas, we did a little quick research and settled on a few candidates- the Honda CRF150F or Kawasaki KLX140 for him and a Yamaha TT-R 230 or Honda CRF230F for me. A quick look at Craigslist later and I found a single buyer selling both an '08 Honda CRF150F and a Yamaha TT-R 230, for an excellent combined price. The Santa Fe Yamaha dealer was open and we took a look at a new TT-R 230 and they even had a used CRF150F.(for too much money). That visit put the TT-R 125 LE on my radar, too.

 But I wanted to shop and think. The biggest issue in buying a used dirt bike is the title. Here in NM, you have to have a registration sticker to ride on public lands (.e.g. US Forest Service) and since nearby Red River, NM is a fun and popular are to ride, I sure don't want to exclude it. However, bikes in Colorado and TX don't have titles. Problem. But,the original pair that I saw on CL's did have titles and long story short, we drove down there one Thursday and bought them. Even better, the following Monday, we got them titled!  Some gear and jetting later, we're riding.

Fresh off the truck

Derek's never ridden a dirt bike but he does have bicycle and ATV experience. He's picked it up pretty quickly, learning to use a manual clutch and shift gears. His Honda is a great bike- I wish I'd had one of these to start on!  Likewise, I'm really happy with my Yamaha.  I'm not going to do much jumping or racing anymore- we just want to putt around and have fun.

Got gear?  Got dirt!

It's good to be back on the bike.

The Life of a Guitar Repair Wizard

I know some people think I'm like this Guitar Repairman Wizard or something, but this week, I had a bad day in the shop and, my blog needing an update, I’m going to tell you all about it.

A while ago, I got in a '67 Martin D-28 that just needed a neck reset and some frets. Easy job.  I did the frets and did the reset.  When I strung it up to check the action to set the saddle height, the front of the stock bridge snapped clean off. In 15 years, 150 guitars/year, I've NEVER had that happen. So I informed the owner and offered to make him a new bridge for free. I don't like making bridges- it's one of my least favorite things, especially when I have to make an _exact_ replica of something in order for it to work. I just hate blowing it and wasting a bridge blank. Irks me to death. Anyway....

After spending most of the previous day meticulously measuring and fitting the new bridge(*) to fit precisely in the stock footprint, and drilling the pin holes in a nice precise clean line so that they’d line exactly with the stock pin holes, today I was routing the saddle slot, which I always do last so that I put it exactly where I want it for good intonation.  Something felt funny. The router was making strange noises and I could feel it struggling. “Well, it’s a hard piece of ebony”, I thought. Then I took another look and noticed the router bit wobbling, so I quickly stopped the router and got it out of the way. Turns out the bit had worked its way loose from the router collet and dug deeply, widely, and sloppily into the bridge, ruining it. I've NEVER had that happen.

I decided to try to fill and re-cut the slot just to see how good I could make it look. Hours later, it looked great, so I strung the guitar up, but guess what? The bridge was .020" too low. The  stock bridge was really tall and I never got to test my reset 'cause the stock bridge broke as I was putting a test saddle in it. For guitars to work correctly, the neck angle has to agree with the combined height of the bridge and saddle. My new, repaired, bridge was too short, making the new saddle too tall and.... it just wasn't gonna work. So, 2 days worth of work went down the drain.  If you’re paying attention, you’ll note that, being too short, this bridge was really doomed from the start. The wayward router bit just finished the job.

I just hate going to bed with unfinished work, so after throwing tools and crying and tearing my shirt, I pulled the meticulously made repaired bridge and started on another one.  After spending all evening on it, I got a new bridge made and fit before quitting for the day so hopefully I've managed to take 1 step forward after 2 steps back. The next day I successfully cut a nice saddle slot in Bridge #2 and the guitar is currently strung up, awaiting final adjustment. I’m not claiming “success” just yet, though.  Not until a week has passed. 

This little mark is all that remains of the jagged slot

The original bridge, cracked

L-R: The new new bridge, the wobbly slot bridge, the original.

Bridge and saddle together determine string height-
they have to match the neck angle.

I watched a couple of these and felt better about my "bad day".

(*)In case you don't have a clue what I'm talking about, this is another bridge (that I made). The wood part is the "bridge", the bone part in the middle is the "saddle", and the black things are "pins".

A Good Day

Another Good Day

To make this right, you gotta get the curves in the wings just right- clean and sharp with a C shape. The overall height of the bridge and saddle have to match the neck angle of the guitar perfectly. The holes for the pins have to be the perfect distance from the saddle and perfectly spaced and in line. In the case of today's guitar, the new bridge needs to fit precisely into the old footprint on the top- that means that all curves and widths have to be exactly right. If they're not, I re-do it.

These bridges look good. I got lucky those days.  I’ll take lucky. It's what Wizards are made  up of. Luck. Luck and ebony dust.

Oh yeah.... the book is done! I took a couple of boxes to the North American Falconer's Association meet in Kansas and sold a bunch of 'em.

Unloading off the truck

Loading into the Ranger

1st box opened!

In case you go looking for it:

Falconry Equipment book