Prophesy

Connie has been with me the last few days, and we have been able to hunt on two other occasions. Hope has been firing on all cylinders, and none of them has been unsuccessful or all that drawn out. Today was Connie's last day with me, and we had one more hunt before she has to go back home.

Hope has been a bit on the heavy side of the scale, but so far it hasn't affected her style or success rate. I felt that on a couple occasions that she would have tried a bit harder if she had weighed a bit less. However she still killed, so who can say.

She was hanging on the wire and calling this morning and I felt that she might be a bit lighter than the 940 that she weighed the last hunt. I had fed her a Bunny head, as well as a chicken leg and thigh from some "laid out" hens that I disposed of. I had stripped off all the fat, and they were a bit skinny, so I was quite surprised when she tipped the scales at 980 again. I believe that "CRAP" was the expletive that came from my lips when I saw the scales. Ah well,  attitude is more important than weight when it comes to hunting.

As we were driving up to the field, Connie remarked to the dogs, who were getting more and more excited as we neared out hunting spot. " She will take off from the perch before we even get into the field and catch a rabbit, then we will let you dogs run back at the ranch when we get back". Myself, I pictured walking our butts off trying to find a dumb one that wasn't smart enough to evade her, drenched with sweat in the process.

We had arrived at my expected hunting spot, crossed the fence, and turned to cross into a bordering field, when Hope blasted off the perch burning for all she was worth, did a wing over and slammed into a Sage, from which came the wavering death song of a Jack Rabbit. I think I said "Damn" this time.

She was buried pretty deep into this one. I had to get down on my knees to even see the Jack.

I gave her her tidbits, and then a bunny front leg and rib cage.

She had caught him by a back leg on what would be the calf on a person, and was able to hold onto that until I got there.

This was not a young Jack. He was rolling in fat, and quite hefty. We took the long way back and let the dogs get in their run before loading them in the car for the return trip home. Some times it happens that way.

Sunrises, sunsets, and a bunny or two.

This is our Sun Rise, Quite nice. It is interesting to see the shift in where the Sun comes up and goes down.

I've hunted Hope twice in the last couple of days. Once at the Ranch in the Grease Wood.

Again she was quite heavy at 984 grams. This is the third chase of the day.

Yesterday we went to Arock to give the Ranch a chance to regroup. She was down to 943. We had a couple of slips at Jacks and this poor Bunny made the mistake of running from the dogs, back and right in front of us.

I'm not sure what happen to the settings on my phone, but these are the worst

pictures that I have seen from it so far.

The Bunny was pretty far into the giant Sage. I had to do a bit of digging to get them out.

I tried to kill it by breaking its neck. Apparently I am used to Jacks as I pulled his head off.

I gave it to Hope and went to find a rock to sit on.

When she finished with it she came looking for us. I called it good, being happy to kill just one critter.

Not a healthy enough population for me to get greedy.

This is our Sunset for tonight. A little weather coming in.

This is our Sunset for today. Quite nice!

Oh Deer!

Well, Its that time of the year again. Every thing is trying to fatten up for the coming winter, and for Deer the "rut" (breeding season) is close at hand. This is the only time of the year when the Deer show up here at the house. Contrary to popular belief, Deer are for the most part a pretty scarce commodity here in the desert. Yes there is generally a Doe or two that lives down by the Creek in the giant Sage brush jungle there. They come to have a protected area to raise their babies, and are generally very spooky and secretive. The only time I see Bucks is in the fall. The ranch below me used to sell tags to hunt the Trophy Deer that hang around the reservoir that pools on his ranch. I think that they have quit doing that, but when I first came here there was a guy that would fly in by Helicopter to shoot one of the big Bucks that lived there. He didn't want the meat, only the head and antlers.

This guy doesn't fit the "trophy" name for "bragging rights" but he is still about three years old and a decent buck that most hunters, who are hungry, would not turn down. I would personally just like him to go away.

He first showed up on the 14th about 5 in the afternoon. I shooed him off, and he went down to the creek to wait for darkness. I originally thought he was after apples, but its not apples that he wants. He wants the leaves and buds off the ends of the tree limbs. On a regular apple tree it wouldn't be a problem. My trees are dwarf Trees and one of the guy's can reach about halfway up the tree.

Yesterday he showed up in the afternoon, and I ran him off. 30 minutes later he was back again, and every 30 minutes after that. I peppered him with the shotgun, I shot him in the ass twice with a pellet gun, but I still had to run him off when I went to bed last night.

This is the result of his feeding after I went to sleep. Before you ask, I don't need any more venison in my freezer. I still have most of the venison left from the last Deer that I harvested during season. 

I am going to check the zero on my pellet gun today. His cohones are going to be in jeopardy when he next comes. I understand that Deer steers tend to grow some pretty spectacular antlers.

October 15, 2018

 The Steen's with a bit of snow.

Some Antelope between the road and the ranch.

I attempted to hunt Hope yesterday. When I weighed her she tipped the scales at 1,035 grams. That surprised me so much that I checked the scales to see if they were reading zero with nothing on them. They were, and her weight didn't change when I set her on them again. The last time she got anything to eat from me was on the 12th, and she should have been under 950 grams. I can only surmise that something made the mistake of getting inside the weathering area with her. She still came to me, and in fact had been calling, indicating that she wanted to go hunting. Normally she doesn't make a sound unless she thinks that I am going to pick her up. Well I didn't need exercise that badly, so I put her back in the pen and did other things.

I went out this morning to check her weight and found that she weighed in at 987 grams. Just to be clear last year she did not kill at any weight above 930 grams. Not that she didn't try, she was just too heavy to make the turns necessary to make a kill, and she actually didn't try as hard either. I have actually seen raptors that would not hunt if they were more than 15 grams over their "hunting weight". Apparently she has not heard this, and so doesn't know that she isn't supposed to hunt when she is overweight.

I decided to go in spite of the fact that she was chubby, reasoning that I really didn't have anything better to do, and the exercise might just help my chubby condition.

Just for grins I hooked up my airplane camera to a contraption that holds the camera on my chest in the hopes that I could get some shots that would be worth showing to you. You really do not understand just how much your eyes and brain compensate for your ungainly body movements, until you strap a camera on your chest. You don't walk, you waddle!

I was quite surprised with the vigor that she exhibited in chasing the Jacks that we jumped for her. For all intents and purposes she was lean and mean, doing her best to catch these elusive critters. The only time that her excess weight was noticeable was when she flew after one that took to the open, running up the 20 degree bare hillside. She tried, but it was just too much climb to keep up with him.

One of the shots that I did capture was of a Jack that was hiding inside a scrawny little bush in the open. The dogs missed him, but Hope saw him sitting still, and took off after him before he realized that he was made. She would have caught him too, but he ran through another scrawny little bush and she was too close to dodge, so crashed into it.

https://vimeo.com/295275937     password  owyheeflyer

The way that I hunt Hope is to gorge her when she kills. I then wait until she comes back down to weight before I take her hunting again. This works quite well as far as the bird is concerned, since I don't have to worry about regulating the amount of food that I give her, I just wait until she gets at a weight that I like, then we go again. It also has the advantage of saving me time and gas money           ( which is a problem since there is no close reasonable supply of fuel ) It also enables me to keep the hunting pressure at a minimum on a dwindling prey base. It also makes for a serious hunting raptor that knows if she doesn't kill, she doesn't eat. I can count on one hand the number of times that I fed her on food other than that she herself had killed in the three years I have had her. If she doesn't kill, I just go hawking again the next day, and with her being on the heavy side I could go for three or four days without feeding her if I had to. It gives you a hunting hawk that doesn't screw around. 

October 12th, 2018

The day dawned bright and clear. Not a cloud in the sky, 29 degrees. I weighed Hope after my chores were taken care of, not surprised to find that she still weighed 967 grams. She was still anxious to come to me, so off we go.

I decided to try a field that I hadn't flown in at least a year. During the height of the Rabbit explosion of three years ago, there was no need to go anywhere else. That field held all the Rabbits that one could wish for and more. Its had Cows on it all fall, so the cover is a bit less than other spots on the ranch.

I turned the dogs out and we began, under the watchful eye of the resident Red Tail sitting in a tree along the fence line. We hadn't gone very far before Hope took off after a Jack in between the Red Tail and us. She put in four different shots at him, with Josie running interference for her, turning the rabbit and not letting him hole up under the Greasewood bushes. He still got away, and Hope returned to the tee perch, ready for another. The Red Tail had seen enough and decided to go some where that this dervish did not hunt.

We jumped two more Jacks before we got to the creek. All managed to avoid her talons. A forth Jack was flushed, and Hope took off after him, slamming into a Grease Wood bush. I listened for the sound that would indicate that she had caught him, but there was nothing. I leisurely began walking that way, and was a bit surprised that she did not jump up on top of one of the bushes. As I neared where she had disappeared Brick went on point on a thick Greasewood bush. I assumed that it was on a hot rabbit "form". ( area dug out under the Sage where the Jacks rest and watch) He seemed to be sure that something was in there, so I looked opposite him, but could see nothing. He still insisted, so I looked on the other side and there buried in the Greasewood was Hope. I looked a bit closer and she was holding a very dead Jack Rabbit. Not sure how she did it, but he was stone dead. She of course had him by the head. Perhaps a talon went into his brain through his ear. Fine by me!

I of course had left my phone in the car, when I began hunting. After returning to the car I decided to take a "selfie" as there was no other way to record the kill. Of course I was trying one handed, with a hawk on the other hand, blood on my fingers, not to mention a wad of rabbit hair, and I can't see the screen because the sun is shinning on it. I decided that I need to put the camera in "selfie mode", so that I can possibly frame the shot, but I can't see or find the little icon that does that. I know where it is though and try to use my nose to punch the button. (Picture a guy with blood dripping off his fingers, holding a Hawk that is eating something on his fist, slamming a phone into his face)  That didn't work, so I went over to the car after four or five useless attempts, laid it on the floor and punched the button with my fingers. I then found out that my arms weren't long enough. To sum it all up, it was the usual cluster #$%&, but I got something.

It appears that Hope has a new flying weight. Not sure now what the ceiling of that weight is. She came to me at 870 and is now hunting 3 1/2 ounces heavier.

I am quite pleased with the way that the dogs are helping out. I am sure that at least one of my field trial friends cringe at the way that I abuse these poor dogs, by training them to hunt Rabbits. However that is the beauty of this breed. It doesn't matter what you want to hunt, if you can convey to them what you are looking for they will find it for you. Josie has learned that when Hope flies, she is chasing something. So when Hope takes off, Josie is right with her, and forms the other leg of the hunt that can supply enough distraction that the Jacks are at a disadvantage, and thus gives Hope a better chance of succeeding. Three of those four shots that Hope had at the first Rabbit came because of Josie.

Oct 10th

After our hunt on the 6th, Connie and I began loading the cars to go to Burns for the night. We were going to Keizer to pick up a set of mews ( Hawk houses) for Pat Brewster. They had belonged to Sarah Morrison, while she was living at home. She had moved to Montana, so her parents, Scott and Sandy, wanted their yard back, thus making them available.

Connie helped me line up the truck to connect the car trailer and we prepared to head out. Connie had put her cat in her car, and I, Tiger and the dogs in mine. Chili, her cat promptly stepped on the door lock, and of course the keys were in the car. It took about 30 minutes to unlock the car with the help of some wedges to pry the door open far enough to get a rod inside to open it up. I managed to not screw up the door, or maim said Cat, either while or after opening the door.

One of Connie's friends had left a bunch of stuff at her house, so we loaded it on the car trailer to take with us the next morning when we went to Salem. Upon arrival in Salem we unloaded that stuff at a friends house and then drove to Sandy and Scott's House and loaded the mews on the trailer ready for our departure the next morning. We made it back to Burns with no problem, and I left the trailer with all the material at Pat's house and came on home last night.

Hope was begging for food when I got home yesterday, but I decided to not feed her until today. She was hanging on the wire begging to go hunting this morning. I thought that she must be starved. When I weighed her she was 968 grams ( more than an ounce heavier than I prefer her to be when we hunt. She will generally try, just not hard enough to actually catch something however. I didn't have anything else that I wanted to do, so I decided to go hunting anyway.

I drove to Arock and tried a new portion of the field that I usually do not hunt. There were a few Jacks, but all were jumping way ahead of us, and she wasn't able to catch any of them. There just isn't as many Jacks this year, and I was trying to find where the ones that were still alive were hanging out. In about 1:45 minutes of walking I had jumped only about 8 Jacks. All at long distances, and Hope had missed all of them. Not by much, but enough that they all went free. I decided to turn back towards the car and eventually jumped a Bunny. Hope burned after it and slammed into the ground at the entrance to some rocks. A feeble little squeal announced her success. I killed the Bunny, tore off a front leg and gave it to her. When she got off the Bunny, I picked it up and walked off. When she finished it she flew to the perch and I went on hunting.

As is usual when I have attempted to double on kills, it takes her a bit to get back to her original enthusiasm. She was not putting her all into the chases as she should, so I sat down, and made the dogs stop and rest. She was sitting on a bush where she had given up on a half hearted chase after a Jack. Pretty soon she flew towards us and landed on a Sage about 10 feet from us. She sat there for a bit then hopped down to the ground and began walking towards us. I was quite surprised when she walked up to Brick and started swatting him with her wing and acting aggressive. It would appear that she was not happy that he was sitting down on the job. We got up and started out again. Within about 75 yards we jumped another Jack that ran behind us. Hope gave chase, slamming into the ground. soon his death song floated back to us. This time I gave her her tidbits, and a large chunk of Jack, taking the Jack off to be gutted. I kept out the liver for her. She soon joined us and was given the liver, as well as another large chunk of Jack as her final reward. I of course managed to go off without a camera, so nothing could be recorded for the blog.

We walked for 2 hours and 45 minutes on this hunt, but we came home with some food. Good trade.

 

Oct 6th, Hope Number 8

It rained lightly, just like we need it, all night. Things are beginning to look a lot better. Perhaps some of the roads that have been pounded to talcum powder can begin to solidify.

Today was Hope's hunting day, so after breakfast Connie and I loaded up and drove to Arock for a quick hunt. It sprinkled all the way there , but thanks to a small opening in the clouds it stopped when we arrived at our hunting spot. Hope was what I considered to be quite heavy still, but thanks to a low pressure system, wanted to hunt, really intensely. She even resorted to flying ahead to where the dogs were nosing around over and over. She is usually quite content to wait on her perch for something to run.

We were not finding anything at all in the usual spots. I decided to circle around the Lava outcrops and circle back around towards the car. Halfway around she took off on a high flight towards the Lava then a wing over from a height, and a Jack's death song wavered on the air.

This is her trademark grip. The fight is over this way. They cannot drag her through the brush, they do not get away, no matter how long it takes the fat guy to lumber up to help.