The dreaded Christmas letter!

 

Since I am too anal and lazy to send Christmas cards, this is my contribution to the season.

While the year has been challenging, it has all been worth it and positive in the extreme. The end of last year began with Cataract surgery, followed by more eye surgery in the spring to remove a long string of junk floating in my left eye. That had me scared. My right eye is improved to 20/50 vision following the cataract surgery, but the left eye developed a lot of floaters that insisted on being to the forefront of all my vision. I am amazed that someone could actually go into the eye and suck out all the garbage, and still give my 20/20 vision back. I am now able to function without glasses except of course for reading. Grocery store cheaters manages that quite nicely.

During that period, Brenda contacted me. Our parents had been friends, and Brends and I have known each other since the 50's. Imagine that! I left WVa in 1963 right after graduation from High School. We didn't meet again until 1968 at my fathers funeral. We were both married by then. We had corresponded several times through the years,  but I had lost track of her in the 80's. I had attempted to find her again after Karen died, but had no luck. She had divorced her first husband, eventually marrying her second who had died about 13 years ago.

To say that I was very surprised would be an understatement. I had found that I didn't want to live alone. I had had a good marriage, and wanted to regain what ever of that feeling that I could. After a year of searching dating sites I met Connie. While she wasn't interested in melding our lifestyles, she was a lovely lady, and lots of fun to be around.

Brenda expressed interest in renewing our acquaintance, so I invited her to visit for a couple of weeks to see just how bad her memory was and if it matched reality. When she got on the plane to go back to her home, I asked her if she would like to come back. She did, finally arriving at the end of August with a trailer full of stuff. We have been sorting ever since.

There is no doubt that if she had not been so young when I left, (15 ) I would have never left WVa. We are doing our best to enjoy the rest of the lives allotted to us. I am extremely pleased that we have this time together. 

Falconry was a total bust this year. The Rabbits are so scarce that I really never started hunting this year. We did put in a couple of weeks, but have given it up as a waste of time, and possible breeding stock for next year.

The Ducks are infected with a "Bird Flu" this year that is fatal to Raptors, so Bud only had "bagged" birds to fly and other than being alive still, has gained nothing towards to being a falconry bird.

While it has been a challenging year, I am glad to be alive, and looking forward to the coming year. I wish you all a Merry Christmas , and a Happy New year!

Thank God for the ability to laugh at myself!

 I had thought that I would not be posting much, because there isn't that much that is worth taking your time to read this blog. However today's exercise in futility is worth sharing. Many cliches come to mind- "Some days are diamonds, some days are stones". "Life is tough, especially if you are stupid", and on and on.

I have been trying to get Hope in shape and back in the groove to stock up on food for the coming year. Rabbits are a bit more scarce than I would like, but I have found one field 26 miles away that seems to have more of a population than anywhere else. 

It is getting colder each day that passes, and I am worried that we might be getting our "normal" below zero temps" soon. Hope is holding her weight well, and I have been trying to fly her every other day. With this snow on the ground the Jacks are flushing at least 100 yards away, making it tough for her to have much of a chance to put anything in the bag. I have been taking the dogs, as both love it so much. Poor old Josie has gotten to the point that I can't keep her reeled in close enough for Hope to even get a fair chance at one. I started out yesterday, and she was so far out that the only way I could reel her back in was to fire a couple of shots in the air. I took her back home, and went back out with just Brick. We got a couple of chases, but no luck. I didn't feed her thinking that I would go to Arock today and leave both dogs at home.

It was fogged in this morning so I got a couple of things done here that need fixing, and at 1:30 we loaded up to make the drive to Arock. I left Brenda in the car, while Hope and I struck out on our own to see if the Jacks would be a bit slower to head to the next field.

These are some of the trails that the Rabbits make, going too and from the field.

I just get in the field and a Jack starts sneaking off into another field. Then another heading the same way. Hope flies in that direction, but he either hid or went on without stopping. Hope lit on a fence post, and I began that way hoping to flush him. Nothing! As I neared where she was sitting, she took off after another one out there about 100 yards. I went over to see if I could make anything happen, but nothing was moving that we could see. I eventually picked her up and went back to the first field. 

I had told Brenda to take the car to the other end of the field, with the intention of hunting towards her, hoping that she would be able to see some of the action. I managed to walk about 25 yards, and Hope flew off the fist to the ground at the base of a Sage Bush. As I stood there trying to figure out what she had seen, she gets down on her belly and crawls through the Bush. She picked something up in her beak and crawls back out. I thought that it was a Rabbit foot that an Eagle had dropped. I look a bit closer and it was a Duck head and neck that I had thrown away last week. :-/

When Bud catches a Duck he will kill it by biting its neck. He will then pluck some of the feathers off, eating the neck and leaving all the little vertebra, and head attached. When he stops eating on the Duck he will come to the fist for the better tasting Quail. I then cut the neck off to make it fit better in the freezer, tossing the neck away. I had forgotten this neck in my bag, so the next time I took Hope hunting I found a nice thick Sage to "dispose" of it.

After the initial temper tantrum, and the accompanying cussing fit, I began to see the humour in the situation.

 There was no way that I was going to get it away from her, and no way that she would be able to hunt successfully with that much food in her crop. At least not well enough that I was willing to slog through all that snow to just get her exercise.

Just the fact that she was able to see the damn thing was wonder enough, but the chance that I would walk close enough for her to pick it out inside the bush was amazing in its self.

 

This is what I am hunting in There are a lot of Bushes, whats the odds that I could have found it if I was looking for it. Hope has always been able to see Rabbits that are hiding, and consciously looked under Sage to spot Rabbits that are hiding. Some times it is helpful, others not so much.

It was at this point that I could see the humour in the entire mess, and go home laughing. There will be other days!

Dec 2022

 Winter has now descended on the Rock House. We have had two small snows, enough to indicate where Jack Rabbits are living. Of course keeping in mind that the Sage leaves and stems that makes up most of their winter food supply is apparently loaded with Amphetamines.  One needs to divide the number of tracks by a factor of 50 to get even close to the actual number of Rabbits living in the area. You cannot believe the depth of trails that have been trodden deep into the snow, or the number of trails that have been left by the wanderings of Rabbits. I once read that Jacks will travel up to 10 miles for food or water, yet they are reputed to have a "home range" of 2 acres.

I went out yesterday here at the house with Hope, covering 3.75 miles and actually saw 5 Rabbits. Hope only managed to pull a hand full of hair out of one of them for our efforts. It was not all a waste of time however. I reaffirmed a cure for leg cramps, caused by the different way that you walk on soft surfaces. That is either a teaspoon of salt in a glass of water, or four Ritz crackers loaded up with mustard. I prefer the taste of Ritz to salt. I know that is hard to believe, but Mustard will stop leg cramps.

I have changed things around a bit here, by once again tying Bud (Falcon) up again in the weathering area.  Hope is living outside in the other side of the weathering area. I have not hunted Hope in the snow before. I was worried about her ability to keep warm enough to avoid hyperthermia in the past that I kept her in a more protected area at night, thus she was always freezing when we went out in the snow, and unwilling to slog around in it. I must admit that I don't like hunting in the snow either. We have not gotten any of the minus temps yet, so she is acclimated to the weather.She is out of the wind, so that helps, and for once she is hitting the ground as though the snow was a natural event. When we start getting minus temps I will put her in the shop at night.

I gave Bud the last Duck that I had purchased at the beginning of the season, so there is little reason to keep him flying. He now will be fed on the fist every day, without the hassle of trying to fly him. The hood is his problem, yet you cannot transport him without one, so that fight needs to occur every time he flies. Once I take his hood off he is fine. He flies up to the drone, takes the lure, lands, eats his food on the lure, flies to my fist to finish his meal with no indication that we just went through a hissy fit 10 minutes earlier. 

I bought 11 Ducks at the beginning of the season because of the Bird Flu that was running rampant in the Western Fly way. The risk is just too great to fly wild Ducks. I needed him to learn that his quarry is Ducks, so bagged ones are going to be the only safe way to teach him that. The deal is to send him up for the lure on the drone, but release the flying Duck just before he gets to the drone. He would then break off the drone and fly the Duck instead. He only lost two of the 11 that I tossed for him. One occurred because I waited too long to toss the duck. He grabbed the lure just as I tossed the Duck, and she flew merrily on her way up the creek. I then raised the drone up to 550 feet before I released the Duck apparently he decided to "gently grab the Duck", which promptly dodged and made her escape to the creek below the house. A lesson that he needed to learn.

So far in December I have walked 13.12 miles in search of Rabbits, catching three. Some of the reason is that Hope is not in shape, and some is how we are hunting. Josie my old Brittany is now12.5 years old.  wants to hunt, but she wants to be way out in front of us. She has a growth on the base of her tongue, and huffs and puffs like a steam locomotive. She has lost her hearing so she cannot hear the warning sound on the electronic collar that I used to use to curb her travels. I refuse to shock her, so we have been dealing with it instead. Last Friday I went to Arock to hunt, and she got lost. Luckily she still had enough of her facilities left to go to the car and wait for me. Its rolling Sage and Lava rocks so she couldn't see me and forgot where she was. I put another two or more miles looking for her. I tried to take her out yesterday and it became clear that I was just wasting my time, she was jumping rabbits out so far that I would lose sight of Hope when she chased them. She has been one of the finest dogs that I have ever had, but its time to leave her home.

There is really very little to report. Here are a few pictures that have sparked my interest recently. Brenda and I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and Happy New year, while we go into hibernation for the year .

Sunset over Idaho

Lost Snow Geese rested a bit before flying on.

They normally do not come this way. 

South Mtn in Idaho catches the last light of the day

Sunset looking South

Catching the last light of the day.

Nov. 23rd, 2022

 I have been to four of my normal hunting spots, finding enough Jacks to make hunting worth while. I have been keeping Hope in the shop on a perch that I put in there for bad weather. She is doing well, and becoming acquainted once again to the discipline required to be called a "Falconry Bird". Almost two years of no close contact erodes the manners of even the calmest bird. Brenda and I took her out yesterday at 1100 grams of body weight, and while she did well, her desire to follow me soon wore off.  We checked another area at Arock, finding quite a few Jacks. She even pulled a fist full of hair off of a Jack that jumped right in front of us, but she began to think about going off on her own, so we came home. 

 Today she weighed 1031 and had regained her focus. Brenda and I took her to the far side of the ranch next door to see what the Jack population was in the Greasewood field. Its an area on the beginning of the vast Sage flats that eventually goes up to the Steens Mtn.

 

While Brenda is a bit mobility impaired, she still enjoys going with us and either following along or watching from the car. She is still enthralled with the scenery and is very happy just to look at it. In my first post I forgot to tell you about her dog, a little Yorkie that she had for 13 years.  We had left her at home with Josie and Brick three different times with no problems. I leave the main door open so that the dogs can go in and out as necessary through the "doggy door". "Charley" was very attached to Brenda, and would meet us when the driveway alarm went off, signalling our return. Our last trip, she was nowhere to be found.

Our house is down over the hill and not visible from most of the State gravel pit. I think that she heard a car pull into the pit to pee, as a lot of people do, and went up there thinking it was us coming home and someone picked her up "possibly" thinking that she had been dumped. It was pretty tough for Brenda for a while, but Brick is doing what he can to sooth her and get a little lap time as a bonus. Its a pretty tough situation for her.

Jacks are interesting creatures. It is thought that their "home territories" are about 2 acres, however they are reputed to travel up to 10 miles for food or water. So an area can be covered up with Rabbit tracks but they are mostly passing through. Mostly their travel is a leisurely meander, the key is to be there when they are traveling through. I was pleased to see that there were a few "trails" through the area, and some Sage cuttings.

I once hunted a small two- three acre field in Klamath, that held three Jacks. The field that had the Sage (cover) was bordered by a large canal, and the rest by open ground. The first Jacks that I caught weighed in the 5-6 lb weight range. I only hunted this spot once a week. At the end of the season there were still three Jacks in there, but they now weighed 2.5 to three pounds. As I killed one of the residents, another would move in to take his place getting smaller and smaller as the competition was removed.

I considered leaving the dogs at home, again wondering if they helped or hurt. Poor ole Josie at 12.5 has a growth on the base of her tongue, and wheezes like a freight train as she runs all over around and in front of us as we walk. As you have probably noticed the "Jackass" Rabbits got their names by their oversize ears. As you would guess their hearing is excellent, the better to hear the Coyotes. It is possible that the noise generated by the dogs allow the Jacks to concentrate on where they are, and thus hold still thinking that the danger has passed, only to be surprised by me following along quieter.  Yeah some times the dogs do bump into one and he flushes a bit further out than I would like, but Hope does have wings and can catch up pretty quick. The problem is the amount of time that the Jack has to form a plan. I assure you they do have a plan. Hope's odds improve exponentially the shorter the "slip". Within 20 yards is almost sure death, 50 yards is a 25 % chance. So far the two Jacks that we have caught were young of the year. The big ones have all gotten away so far.

We didn't go hunting till after the mail had been delivered, so in my opinion it was the slack time of the day for traveling Jack Rabbits. We ran three Jacks before she caught the forth one. It jumped about 30 yards out and when she slammed into the ground behind a large Greasewood, I heard a short squeak. I ran down there to help if needed, and found that Hope was bracketed by both dogs. She had the rabbit pretty well covered up.  Brick was smelling over her shoulder to see what she had caught. She paid no attention to either of them. She had caught it by the head, and it was going no where. She allowed me to kill it, I gave her a chunk of meat and she moved off to eat it. All in all we only walked a mile and half. Not as much exercise as I needed, but I will take it.

I was concerned about Hope's right foot. If you remember she "Stone bruised" her right foot pad. Over the winter that talon had folded over when she sat on her perch in the mews. I was concerned that it might have atrophied and was a danger to her foot pad. Now that I have her out of the mews and on a smaller perch, it doesn't fold over as much, and she used that foot to grab the rabbit by the head.

My friend Pat Brewster has also started hunting in her area in Burns,Or. She has a female Harris Hawk as well. She also has a new dog, a German Shepard that she is using this year as her hunting companion. She has had problems with Coyotes coming to the natural Rabbit calls. Most of the Sage there is a lot taller that what I am used to, thus the Coyotes don't see her until they are right up on her. Her bird has finally decided that "Wren" is not going to cause her problems. As you can see from the photo's she is having to deal with snow.

 

Shepherds make great hunting companions. I had one in the 80's that shared a Volkswagen with Karen, myself and a Goshawk that rode unhooded on the back of my seat so she could look out the window. I suspect that this one is better trained than any of my dogs.

Oh, my boy - Bud has refused to come to me for four days. Maybe he is catching Mice? 

 

Nov 20, 2022

 Brenda and I have mostly achieved the blending of our lifestyles, and are doing well in the process. I am amazed that this process has been without stress. Coming from the same upbringing and lifestyles I am sure has helped a lot, but the main thing is that we both want it to work, strongly enough, that we each are willing to do what is necessary to achieve that goal. That we knew and liked each other from the beginning of our lives has I am sure, formed a basis for that start. It doesn't hurt that we both are self sufficient and are quite capable of entertaining ourselves with out needing outside stimulation. The semi isolation of this area has not been a factor, rather we both like it. We do like company, but do not require outside stimulation to be happy. She loves the High Desert, and does not find it depressing. Believe me I have searched by every means available to me to find a woman with her outlook and disposition.

I have reluctantly begun my falconry training. Reluctantly because it seems that the animal world is about as screwed up as the humans. The game populations are seriously depressed in this area. Rabbits are having to contend with a "Hemorrhagic fever" that is kicking the crap out of the few Rabbits that are still around. The Duck populations are plagued with a form of "Bird Flu" that is extremely fatal to the Raptor populations. Lat check found that at least a 1000 cases of Bird Flu is occurring in the Western Flyway. I received a report that a falconers bird in the center of the state, caught a Duck on Monday and his Peregrine was dead by Wed.

I decided at the beginning of the season that I would only fly Bud, My Gyr hybrid cross, on bagged Ducks that I was sure was not infected. I bought 10 "flighted Mallards" from a Game farm, and they will be the only Ducks that he will be exposed to.

I had been hanging back on hunting Hope because the Rabbits are so scarce from their cyclic population crash, that I felt guilty in catching any at all. I just brought her out from the mews at the beginning of the month, and flew her for the first time on the 18th. I took her to my old spot at Arock and was pleasantly surprised to find that there were some Jacks there. She was a bit out of shape and wasn't able to catch any of the Jacks that we did find. I however was very pleased that we saw any rabbits at all. It seems that the Bunny ( Cottontails) was quite high, but these little escapa artist and rarely far enough from a hole to ever get caught by something as "slow" as a Harris Hawk. She did however get some good and very needed exercise. We put in 3.25 miles in covering the field before I called it quits. She had flights on numerous Bunnies and at least 6 Jacks. Everybody was faster and smarter. I thought she did well considering how long its been since she has chased anything.

Today I went to the Ranch next door to see how many Rabbits were living there. It only took us a mile and half for her to snag a really fat Jack of the year. In that time we also had chases on three other Jack Rabbits, so perhaps things are not as bad as I thought. 

I am continually amazed at Bud. This is his second year and he is still as much of a pain in the butt as he was last year. I would guess that this is my payment for being so foolish to think that I only needed a Drone to turn one of these hybrids into a dynamite game Hawk.  In the first place there is nothing wrong with this guy's genetics, the only reason that he is such a shit is entirely due to me. Somewhere I screwed up badly, either in the timing of picking him up, or my handling. Which ever is the case he has the ability to make me wonder if I still want to do this.

I could never pick him up without him throwing a hissy fit. Its truly a "love hate relationship." I pick him up, he bates, and thrashes around, screaming like I am killing him. I try to put him on the scales to see how much he weighs, He manages to bate off the scales hard enough to toss the thing on the floor. I reach for the hood and he goes off again. When I began to take his weight down in preparation to begin flying, he would twist and turn tangling his jesses to the point that he walked like a penguin. It of course is taking my life in my hands to try to untangle him. I had a total of four swivels on him so that each jess could turn and not tangle. It did not sway him at all, he repeatedly had his jesses tangled and twisted to the point that they were unusable. I left him loose for three days until I decided that it was better to have him loose, and not feed him until he was hungry enough to come to me. That way I did not have to weigh him at all. If he came to me he was at flying weight. Yes at times he does bang into the wire, but even if he looks like a feather duster by the end of the year, its still better than the alternative. He is not afraid of me, far from it! He has tried several times to bite me, to "defend" his food. He "ain't " scared.

Even with all that, he does not wander, he does step off a Duck after he has eaten some of the neck, he does fly to my fist after he has eaten all on the lure. He has never screwed off, but he is a royal pain in the ass! You would think that if I go out to get him and he doesn't come to me, I turn around and leave. One would reason that the raptor would understand that not coming to the fist meant that he wouldn't eat. Then the next opportunity it would be best to come to the fist for the offered ( on the fist) food. He seems to have trouble with that concept. He went three days without food last week because he wouldn't come to the fist to eat it. I offer, if he doesn't show some sign that he wants it, I go away. I then come back about a hour later and offer again. If he doesn't come, the next opportunity will be the next day. The temps are in the single digits here at night. Every morning in that three day fast, I would check in the morning to see if he was still alive. 

Now he has a new quirk. Today was the second time I have seen it. The drone is set for 530 feet. That is as high as it goes. It will stay there until the battery runs out, then it will land where I started it. As you can imagine at 500 feet the places he chooses to land can be pretty far away. Its not at my feet at least. The last two times he has grabbed the lure with a Quail leg and thigh, then turned it loose about 50 feet off the ground. There is a parachute on the other end of the lure line. Today he turned it loose and I guess landed on a fence post on the runway. I got the line and swung it like a lure. He came right away but did not want to land on the ground. He straffed it till he tore off the thigh, then went to a fence pose to eat it. He didn't try to go off with it, just waited till he finished the thing, before he flew to the fist to get the rest of it. The thought has occurred to me that a sick duck might be the answer to my problems.

 

  

A further elaboration!

 I orginally started this blog to keep my Mother and Sister updated on what was happening in my world. It was begun to showcase the hidden terrain of the High Desert, also known as the Sagebrush Sea. As time passed others liked the pictures and asked to be added. Some were friends that our paths had crossed at one time or another, the rest just came along for the pictures. The stories varied due to the seasons. Fall was training and hunting of the Hawks, Spring and Summer was different areas that I visited with my plane. I had always felt that my little insights into the Raptors and the terrain were worthy of your time to read them. Things changed with Karen's death. I no longer felt that I could risk my "critters" being left here in case I didn't come back from one of those trips, and of course I had visited all the "beauty spots" before and there didn't seem to be much to add. I quit the long flights, and stayed home. I have comptemplated discontinuing the blog as I didn't feel that there was much that anyone would look forward to reading. 

However there is one subject that could be expounded upon that may interest some of you. Those of you who know me personally seem to be more than a little surprised in my recent acquisition of a new mate. It little matters that it is probably amazement on most of your parts. I share that wonderment as well. Let me see if I can answer some of your questions.

Senior dating can be as fraught with peril as any exercise in human relations. I will explore some of my finding to you.

In the first place, I had a positive marriage to Karen, and the benefits of that was something that I wanted to duplicate if at all possible. The first step towards that was an attempt to find Brenda again. We had known each other since she was about 6 yrs old, and I knew that she had had some bad marriages's and was still interested in me. I didn't remember what her last married name was and the only contact that I had was a childhood friend in the same area that she had lived. He did not know what had happened with her, and was no help. So then the only recourse was dating sites.

I soon found that there was two different goals for women. The divorce'es were trying to relive their "glory years" and experience the things that they had missed by being tied down with their children and boring husbands, and basically looking for their Prince Charming. All were interested in travelling and having fun. 

The widows were looking for a stable life style with a guy that could give them some security and perhaps not be an asshole. However none of them were willing to live in SE Oregon's High Desert. Of course that was what I wanted and needed.

Brenda  knew that Karen had died, but waited three years before she thought it was appropiate to call me. Had she been older when I left WVa, my life would have most likely been different. 

If I had to guess,  I would bet that those of you who know me well are amazed that she would get rid of every thing and drive across country by herself to join me here in the "garden spot of Eastern Oregon". I haven't yet decided if that amazement is due to the country or that they know me so well?

Brenda's last husband died about 13 years ago, and she had lived alone since then. I sense that  those of you who know me well are a bit amazed that a woman such as her could commit to a life in the middle of nowhere with a man such as me, a veritable paragon of virtue and positive thinking. I can only attribute it to the fact that so far she has only experienced males that were the personification of "Masculine superiority" and by comparison I appear as a Loving Teddy bear. Lets hope that I can keep up the act. If all you have ever known is a physcopath, it seems to be normal.

Rock House ramblins

 Fall has apparently arrived, mornings are quite nipply, but the flies are still with us. They are bad enough that I am praying for a frost, just to get rid of the flies. There is lots to do to prepare for winter. The fifth wheel has only to get the water lines blown out, I am about to blow out the sprinklers. I have one trailer load of wood split. ( 2 1/2 cords). Another load will be ready soon. My wood splitter has blown out its last spark plug, so I have ordered another engine. The poor thing has served me for about 30 years. I picked the engine (a Fairbanks Morse ) out of the Railroad garbage dump. It seems that one can no longer get a "heli coil" that will fit the huge spark plug that it uses. I managed to spend most of the afternoon trying to find one for a 18 MM spark plug. All are now 14 MM. 

I am trying to get Bud back on the wing again. It has been fun, :-/ I of course need to reduce his weight, and the more that I do the more restless he gets. He was getting tangled almost daily, then of course he blames it on me. Its possible that I will need more bandaids soon. I had turned him loose in the weathering area earlier when he was fat, and decided that him hanging on the wire wasn't good, now I have turned him loose again, just to keep him from tangling up all the time. I had been using a total of four swivels on his jesses, and he still managed to tie himself in knots. If he ends the season looking like a feather duster- too bad.

Actually having him loose is a bit easier for me. He still hates the thought of a hood, so weighing him is a real pain in the butt. Now I don't have to weigh him. If he isn't hungry enough to come to the fist, he isn't ready to fly anyway. 

I spent most of the afternoon trying to find out why my drone wasn't working. I finally plugged it into my computer and found that the battery wasn't making a full contact. ( two hours lost) The battery fits so tight that I have to use a knife to wiggle the battery out of its slot. I put it on the sander last night to free it up a bit. :-/  Obviously I succeded! 

Bud wouldn't come to me earlier, but the sight of me trying to get the drone working drove him to distraction. He is somewhat difficult, but he knows that the drone has food. When I finally got it corrected, he came to me. I had set the upper limit to restrict the drone to 125 feet. When I turned him loose he didn't seem to be able to get up that high. Apparently he is really out of shape, so he screwed around at low level until it started to come down due to the battery getting low, then snatched the lure off at about 15 feet. Looks like we are off to a "roaring start".  I am not sure if I am even going to try to fly Hope. I haven't seen a Rabbit for some time now.

Brenda and I are still trying to get our stuff blended, between all the other stuff going on and trips to town its been a bit slow. We went to Burns friday to take my wood trailer to the guy who cuts wood for me, and to take Brenda's dog Charly to the vet. She has some trouble with one of her eyes. I also needed to renew my drivers license. I thought sure that they would want to see me drive since I am turning 78 years on my birthday. Then we had to drive to Eagle Idaho to get a prescription yesterday. Ah the joys of living in a remote area during a Biden administration. Its still worth it! 

We are beginning to get some nice sunsets again.

 

16th Annual Rock House Fly-in

The dwindling number of Kolb Flyers once again met in the High Desert of S.E. Oregon. As usual the ones attending had a great time. Again as seems to be the norm, the weather was good, but smoky from the fires in Northern California. The smoke rolled in on the exact date schedualed for the first arrivals, and left the day after every body went home. It never got so bad that we couldn't fly, as long as you had a GPS. The landmarks were pretty faint. The food was good, the company even better. 

Mike Markers Carbon Cub, Mike Armstrong's Kolb Mark III, Roger Hankins Firestar I, My Firestar II. John Bickhams, Bear Cat parked on the tiedowns on the hill.

This year I had some help and things went much smoother. A childhood sweetheart from WVa called me and for a change we both were alone at the same time. She came  for a visit and we decided that it was time that we join together for the rest of our lives. She loves the area, and has no problem with the solitude or the work required to make our lives comfortable. 

 

August 12, 2022

 Well I have been pretty lazy as you might have noticed. With gasoline that is way too expensive and the hot weather I haven't accomplished much more than survival so far this year. Airplane gas is $6.40 locally and it just killed the fun of flying. I had a fuel leak somewhere in my fuel system, and after replacing every thing else, I broke down and ordered two new 5 gallon gas tanks from the Kolb Factory. 

https://vimeo.com/739154369  password if needed -   Owyheeflyer

I had changed my routines with the high prices, and was concentrating on exercising and attempting to lose a bit of weight that came way too fast while I wasn't looking. With the gas cost, I stopped flying the first thing in the morning and began a walking regime for the dogs and me. Josie this year was 12 and really getting crippled with arthritis. I recently got some Hemp Oil and that is helping her get around and restored her quality of life a lot. Both of us needed to get as much exercise as we could get. Of course after walking the runway it would be getting pretty hot, and the wind comes up by about 10 AM. As you know its easy to get in a rut, and excuses are easier than doing..

I have been "flogging" myself over becoming a hermit, with little success, but Hawking season is not too far in the future, so I guess its time to get off my butt. Its been another losing proposition this last year, with the drought affecting the Duck Hawking and the Jack Rabbits have crashed as well. I quit very early last year because the populations of Jacks was so low that I was afraid that I could possibly slow the recovery by killing any of the few rabbits that were still around. The water had all dried up in the back country, reducing the amount of Ducks that were available to hunt as well, so better to quit altogether.

I am beginning to see some sign that there might be a few Jacks around by the "scrapes" (Territorial markings and dust baths) along the runway.One of the ways to locate hunting locations is by the trails that they make in the weeds. There is a tall lite brown early grass that covers a lot of the ground here, and the Jacks will make paths about 4 inches wide through it. The more paths, the more Jacks using them. They can be seen from the air and if you are close enough to the ground, you can scare them out of hiding.

So the search for some decent rabbit populations was enough for me to finally break my inertia, and get the plane in the air. Plus with my fly-in in on the near horizon, I need to be at least proficient enough to at least go along on some trips.

https://vimeo.com/739326938  Password    Owyheeflyer

This is the first of two video's of this trip and consists mostly of low level scouting of the areas frequented by Jack Rabbits.

https://vimeo.com/739292601   Same password. This one explores an old Lava flow along Jordan Creek and some of the possible Duck ponds in that area. I have never been desperate enough to have to travel that far to find Hawking possibilities. Now I am!

I learned quite a lot on this foray. The first is that its going to be pretty "tough sledding" as far as Jack Rabbits are concerned. However the Duck Hawking should be good, I have at least five more ponds that I can hunt on. Now if Bud had his head screwed on straight then all would be well on the western front. However although he is a striking looking boy, its gonna take more than just good looks to put a Duck in his feet.

As you can see, he is about done with the molt. Just four more covert feathers on the wing that I can see. Nothing missing that would affect his flight. Done or not we will begin our training to hopefully be on the wing for opening of Duck season.

On a personal note, I have a new Lady in my life. Her name is Brenda. She is from the same little rural community in WVa where I grew up. I have known her since she was 6 years old. Our parents visited and fished together a lot. Their Church was one of the Churches that my father ( a Methodist Minister ) served on his circuit. She was always as "cute as bug", and grew to be a beautiful woman. However our paths diverged before she was old enough to be be able to date. My path took me to Calif. where I married Karen. The next time we met was at my fathers funeral, in 1968. She had married the only kid in my child hood that I truly despised. Apparently she concurred in my opinion of him as the marriage only lasted a couple of years. Her second husband died 13 years ago. We had been in contact over the years via computer, but lost track of each other. After Karen died I attempted to find her again, but not knowing her last name, it proved impossible. She called me this spring and was still interested so we arranged a visit in June. The attraction was still there so we decided that she should come here so that we could share the rest of our lives together. She is now on her way here with the few things that she doesn't want to do without in her car, and a U haul trailer. She mostly gave away most of her stuff, or traded it for help in clearing out her home. She asked me if I needed a big screen TV. I told her that I had one already. She began her drive West yesterday. My TV died this morning. :-/

As you may know I had been seeing a lovely lady named Connie. I had hoped to someday convince Connie that life with me wouldn't be all that bad, but living with me was not in her plans. I understood that condition from the start and accepted that it would be that way, so it was not a surprise. I always enjoyed Connie's company and her spirit. She helped me more than I can relate. Its been tough to have to learn to live without Karen, but with her help, I can now do so, however I want a partner to share what ever days I have left.

 

25th of June,2022, Interesting times!

 It has been interesting to say the least, very troubling would be more accurate. Covid was a mess, but I, and all the ones that I care about escaped it. The political situation however has impacted all of us more than necessary, with the blunt club of "Climate change". In an attempt to force all of us to change to electricity, which the infrastructure cannot support at current levels.  I am sorry that I even have to mention politics, but it has affected all that I do.  Gas for my plane currently is $6.45 a gallon. I can only quote "Lets go Brandon!"

It has been an interesting spring. We had no moisture other than the snows that caused a few interesting days. It didn't snow all that much, the wind just rearranged it in interesting patterns and places. Then in May it began raining. Not hard, just continued to lightly rain most every day. It did wonders for the country, the grass and mostly the weeds grew like crazy. Not hard enough to fill all the ponds in the back country, but it helped at least get some water in them. The entire month of May as well as the first part of June were cool and rainy. I cannot see any fruit on any of my Apple or plum trees. As a consequence of the weather, I have read more library books than any winter I can remember. Bless the "Library of Eastern Oregon", an online library. Now it appears with the fuel prices, I will again be reading a lot of the time.

During one of the "cool" nights, I found this guy out in the open to try to recharge his system in the weak Sun. A very hansom and robust specimen of Horned Toad.

https://www.bing.com/search?q=oregon+horned+toad&form=QBLH&sp=-1&pq=oregon+horned+toad&sc=1-18&qs=n&sk=&cvid=ACAEDE2FFE8E471EB51D8C6EFB0EB0E8&ghsh=0&ghacc=0

They are a bit hard to see.

Just as I got the weeds cut down in my garden and rotor tilled it so that I could put in some plants, The Mormon Crickets made their first appearance here at the house.

https://www.bing.com/search?q=mormon+crickets&qs=HS&sk=HS3&sc=8-0&cvid=D1890871820445F193F774895F10CDD8&FORM=QBLH&sp=4

According to the above link they can take up to five years to hatch, but I have not seen them here, and I have lived here since 2006. 

This is something that you have to experience, words cannot convey how many of them there are. They turn the roads brown just from the squashed bodies. They seem to tend to travel in the same general direction, so my hope is that they will move out of my area soon. On my walk this morning they were all walking North. Since the creek is only about200 yards to the South of me, perhaps they will soon move out of my garden.

I did go fishing for the first time in last week. The trail down to the River was really rough as could be, but the fishing was good. The water was low enough that there was a strip of land to stand on. I took my fishing buddy, Sue, with me. No one had fished the spot that I like, and it took no time at all to have more fish than we needed on our stringers.

I kept enough for three meals out and buried the rest in my garden for the plants that I intended to put in the garden.

Thursday my friend J.Bickham, arrived with his two grandkids. They had been to a fly-in in the Idaho back country and were on their way back to New Mexico. It was nice, but they didn't stay long enough.

Its likely to be a quiet summer! Hopefully yours will be better.

The first decent day all year

 Mike Armstrong, a pilot that I helped in 2020 ( I believe) called me and wanted to get an idea of the weather on the Alvord. He had a friend with a T Bird ( Lite sport) plane that he wanted to learn to fly. Well the weather was miserable for the next three weeks after that. He called again last Wenesday and upon checking the forecasts, he decided to come this weekend for their attempt.

I have not flown since September due to my need to fly Bud. While he didn't manage to kill anything, he was at least sticking around, in fact on one of his trips he flew a big circle around the outside of the Ranch for about 30 minutes, then went home. Leaving me out in the field like a spurned lover.

 Starting a Falcon is not at all like starting a Hawk. A Hawk will be hitting on all cylinders within  a month or it will never be worth anything. A Falcon takes at least three years to reach its full potiential. I was content that Bud had stuck around for his first year. Actually a long time out would be beneficial for both of us.

 By then I had burned all the nonethynol gas that I spockpiled when Biden was installed in office, so my incentive to fly was almost non-existant. In Sept all the junk in my left eye had broken loose and my vision was miserable. I couldn't see a falcon anything over 400 feet in the air. There was no question that I wasn't fit to fly.The plane gathered dust all winter. I had a gas leak somewhere and it was dripping off my tail boom. At the last fly-in, Roger helped me take the tanks out and inspect them. They seemed to be ok, so we re-installed them. I still had the leak! The only thing left was a "gascolater" that was supposed to seperate the water from the gas. I had built it from PVC fittings, and glued it together with standard PVC glue. I assumed that it was seeping gas through the seams. Well, it did not. It appears that one of the tanks have a small crack somewhere. So in essence I really didn't care if I flew or not. I find that a unsettling thought.

Mike, I was sure, needed some support.  I needed to go to the Alvord! I of course had two choices, I could either fly the 80 mile trip, or I could drive, take three times longer and put in 160 mile trip. I chose the plane as I wanted to paint the pool while the weather was good. I could also see again, so a flight was the only thing that made sense.

Toby Parker had dropped by after spending the weekend at a Hot Springs about 40 miles south of me. He decided that he would stop by the Alvord as well before going home.

I forgot to charge the batteries on my Virb camera, so it quit on the return trip. I noticed when I edited the video, the Garmin program that I use for the main cut of the raw video has developed a twitch in its programming. I questioned as to whether or not to attach it to the blog, but even though you may have seen the same scenery many times before, some of you may be as forgetful as I, and enjoy it anyway.

  https://vimeo.com/710548610 I don't think that it requires a password but if it does its - owyheeflyer

After remembering to switch the gas selector to an actual tank, the plane roared to life, I warmed it up and departed for the Alvord. 

In the early years I had entertained the idea of buying a T Bird for my first plane, but decided that it wasn't sturdy enough or have the performance that I required. I am very glad that I did so. It was very flimsy and almost impossible to put together. The owner asked me if I was interested in flying it. I had no problem in telling him that I would decline.

                                                                                  Mike Armstrong

He had been taxxiing it but had never lifted off. This time he did manage to take it off the ground, much to our surprise and dismay. Mike's as well my heart rate went up quicker than the plane. He flew around for about 10 minutes, then, as he made a right turn the wing dropped, touched, which slammed the body of the plane down breaking off a wheel. Ending up with bent tail supports. He was unhurt, at least physically. However its tough to crash your dream. Mike had no problem at all with his Mark 3. I saw him safely in the air, and headed on home.   

I tried to fly over the plane with my virb to give you a picture, but the battery was dead, so this long range shot is all I have.

The boundry Hills on the East end of the Alvord

A departing shot of the Steens

I got all my stuff together and started spraying on the new pool paint. Imanaged to spray one coat on and after a bit roll a coat on the bottom of the pool. Of course thunder heads were building all afternoon. It did not rain however. I will let it dry for a couple of days then begin filling it for the summer.

Yesterday morning after an early morning walk, Josie was panting up a storm. I decided that it was time for her haircut. It looked like I had been shearing Sheep when I finished. I was thinking of quitting for the day as she was getting pretty tired of holding still, and while I was considering it, she had decided that I was finished, and left me standing there with the clippers.

Today, (tuesday) I took Nikki to Burns to the vet to get her spayed. I left her at the Vets at 8 am, went shopping, had lunch with my dear friend, Pat and her mother. Gathered up Conie's three cats, then Nikki and made our way back home. I may never get all the cat hair out of my car. One cat on my shoulder another at my right arm on the center console, the other under my feet, and Nikki in a cat kennel.

This particular post is a hodgepodge of a bit of every thing. Months of nothing at all, and with a little sunshine things go to overdrive in one heart beat. I dithered for a couple of days trying to decide if I wanted to bother you with all this. Still not sure its worth while at all.