2015 Fly-in and Varmints

Our fly-in this year was mostly in name only. It was really more of a "Friend reunion". John Hauck and Nell drove out in the spring, They ended up staying a while so Nell could recuperate from a fall that she took off the trailer steps. They then toured Alaska until it started getting cool, then came back to the house for the fly-in. Boyd Young drove out, because of vacation restraints and iffy weather for his return. Karen's niece Mici took the train and Mike was kind enough to take her for some rides in the cub. Toby had a run in with a tree while his plane was on a trailer, and had to turn back. Mike Marker and Jan flew in with a new Carbon Cub, and Roger trailered over. These folks are the core of the group, and every body else was occupied with other commitments. While we missed them, it was a much easier and relaxed time for Karen and I.

We had a few good days, and then the weather that Boyd was worried about came in, so we relaxed and just enjoyed each others company. Every body has slowly trickled back to their homes. The last, John and Nell, left Yesterday to continue on with their slow travel back to Alabama. We all had a great time, and Karen and I really enjoyed each and every one of them.

Over the last week or so, I noticed that I was losing baby Chicks. After a lot of trouble and three setting hens, I had managed to get four Aracuna chicks to hatch. My old Roster is infertile, so I had to depend on Tammi for hatching eggs. The Chicks although pretty good sized begin to disappear. Then the other day  I saw where a varmint had grabbed and carried off one of my older hens. I am actually missing three Buff Orphington full grown Chickens and three young chicks. Of course my first thought was Coyote. There have been a bunch of pups hanging around the place, and I thought that one of them was sneaking into the yard and grabbing them. I  noticed today that the nest that one of my hens had been setting, and left four addled eggs in, was now empty. Brick was sniffing around the area pretty intensely. I now know that he was smelling the Coons and the left overs from the rotten eggs.

I have been watching pretty close but haven't seen anything until today. Josie my little female Brittney, is my eyes. Her vision is much more dependable than mine. She doesn't bark, she just "Uff's" when she sees something. She is a great watch dog, and is so much more valuable to me because she doesn't go nuts and run around barking and scaring every thing off. She just watches and alerts me to potential problems. She has slowly become so much more valuable because of this trait. She warns of of Snakes, chases off the Harriers and Ravens if they get too close, and now seems to be developing into a "seeing Eye Dog" for her apparently rapidly aging owner.

This evening we were sitting outside by the hot tub enjoying the evening, when she began to "Uff Uff" while looking across the creek. I got the bino's and looked and looked, but could see nothing. Finally I expanded my search and saw the Coyote that I had been looking for, going up the Creek. By the time I got ready to shoot him, he was out of sight up the creek.

The sun set had lit up the few clouds that we had, with their full colors, and I took a few pictures of them.

I stayed outside and read until it begin to get dark. I then locked up the Chickens against the varmints, and gathered up the dogs to go inside. Josie was sitting in her regular spot on the couch, and I had walked over to close the door. She began "Uffing" again while sitting on the couch. She wouldn't quit either. I let both of the dogs out, told her to show me what she was upset about, but Brick, ( aptly named, due to the thickness of his lovable head) kept trying to get her to play. Eventually I saw something in the Elm Tree that didn't belong. When the smoke cleared these are the responsible parties to my Chicken losses.

I owe the Coyotes an apology apparently. I have had more Chicken and Pigeon losses to these guy's than I care to remember. They are relentless once they discover a food source. Its too bad for both of us, but there can only be one outcome, I just got them before they did too much damage this time.  It is normally much more difficult and I usually have to resort to traps to get rid of them. Of course I would prefer to not have to kill a mother and pups, but sometimes there is no recourse. A couple of years ago one actually tore a hole in the roof of the Pigeon house to get to the birds inside.  Perhaps now things will settle down a bit.

Fire camp and irrevent observations!

Things have been a little slow on the fire front, at least the part where I get to make money. The rest of the West seems to be burning down around us. They just didn't see fit to call out the company that I work for.

First, let me say that the most hazardous part of the job for me personally, is going to sleep while driving all over to get to little podunk places that mostly no one other than locals have ever heard of. In the middle of the night mostly. The worst thing that you can hear is, " You can't miss it". Perhaps I am unusually talented in that area, because it seems all too easy for me to actually do that. At least I will worry that I will indeed do it for several hours driving on strange roads with headlights that are much too dim to be able to see all the things that one needs to see.

My last and first trip this year was to a little place called Cold Springs, Nevada. It consists of a sometimes open, combination store, restaurant,Motel, RV park. All in one building. If you punch it in to a GPS it directs you to a spot that is at least 125 miles away.

My truck is a 3800 gallon Kenworth water tender. It is a good truck, only 18 years old, and it runs like a scalded cat, tracks good on the little roads. However the headlights are somewhat dim or perhaps its my eyes that are dim. Its tough to see unless it is really dark. The area that I went to fits that description to a tee. Its called the "Loneliest road in Nevada". Nevada has the worst road signs and the smallest mile markers of anywhere I have ever been. I checked coming back home in the daylight and I still couldn't read them at highway speeds. So the entire trip was a guessing game. I brought my GPS with me, but handily forgot the power cord so the battery went dead before I left the main hwy. If not for my cell phone and its map application, I might still be looking for smoke.

I have a "kit" that I keep ready in the shop. All I need to do is add in my personal bag and I am ready to go. Tent, Cot, a little ammo can that holds a stove, coffee, aspirin, and so on. Of course we never get a call during the middle of the day. ( If called after hours, the BLM only has to pay half of a day.) This one came in at 4 pm. I tossed all my stuff in the truck and headed to Winnemucca Nv. where the truck is headquartered. Provisioned it and headed towards my job site. I finally arrive at my first turn in Battle Mountain at 10:30 at night, and remembered that I didn't bring my sleeping bag. There are no sleeping bags available at that time of night in Battle Mtn. The only thing open was a "Dollar Store". The only thing close to what I needed was some comforters and some "Micro Fleece" blankets. ( I think that is code for blanket fuzz.) I bought two fleece, a pillow, and the comforter. All were quite reasonable. Most likely because the objects were so bright and flashy that no other store could sell them, only the desperate. Mine was large pink flowers. Luckily it was dark when I used them.

I arrived at 12:30 AM and finally managed to put my tent up, and turn in to get some sleep. Up at 5:45 AM and check in at the IC. I was assigned to provide water for the Heli tac unit. They had two light Heli's and one medium consisting of a Huey H model. Each had a 100 foot circle that we needed to keep wet to keep the dust down. There were two of us assigned, so our only problem was to get enough water to accomplish that. The BLM had found a rancher that allowed them to dig a couple of ponds and divert a spring creek (Probably the very one that the area was named after) into them so that we could fill our trucks out of them. Mud holes really. Once we got the water situation solved it was pretty easy. A heli would lift off and we would water the circle that they had been using.

The fire was back up in the Mountains quite a distance away. I never even saw smoke from the fire the whole time I was there. The Heli crews were providing support for the hotshot crews that were posted out on the fire lines. They would ferry the 21 person crews in to the fire lines and then provide them with support in the way of supplies and food. Occasionally hot food. In three and half days I worked 47 hours.

The way that this works is that they send in a crew to begin to set things up. Then the contractors arrive as well as the hot shot crews, that do the ground grunt work. As the fire either progresses more and more people and crews arrive. When they can get a fire line around the actual fire to the point that it is "contained" then the crews that are not needed are released to either go home or to other fires. At that point another group will do what ever rehabilitation that is needed.

Fire camp is pretty interesting. The fire crews are made up of young guys and gals that are very tough and very interesting. Tough beyond belief. There are "hot shot"crews made up from the various Indian tribes, Some of them are from various BLM and Forest Service's and a few that are inmates that have had the option of earning some "good time". They have it the toughest, because of the restrictions put on them. They can't smoke, chew and they always answer with a Sir, Or Ma'am. They stay to themselves. However to me the most interesting are the crews with the girls on them. Perhaps two sometimes only one girl, and she is just as filthy dirty as any of the guys. You know then that she isn't just a pretty face there for support. They work just as hard as any of the guy's, neither asking or giving any quarter. They may or may not lack the delicate grace of the local beauty queen, but they have what it takes to stand with you, come hell or high water. My choice any day.

Almost everything is contracted out. Water tenders, Helicopters, Cats, even the toilets and a guy to clean them. The kitchens are generally inmates cooking and serving the food. You have never seen more respectful behavior. They try their hardest to earn the privilege of working on the fires. I think I heard some one say that they got $3.00 a day. Every one that I saw beamed with pride if you complimented them or their work.

Unlike most Govt. job holders, most of these guy's and gals seem to be pretty competent, and professional. Of course there are some that are not, but on the whole the only idiots are a lot higher up than the line people.

For the water tender part of the fire work, it seems mostly to be that we are there on conjecture. If we are supporting fire crews, they will station a tender as close to a fire as is safe but handy. The objective is to refill the "Engines" that actually go out on the line either putting out spot fires, or refilling the "piss cans" that the crew wears on their back. A tender may sit there for 14 hours and not deliver any more than a couple of hundred gallons of water. One of our tenders that went out to a fire in June did not give any water to anyone the whole time he was at the fire.

Working with the Heli tac crew was pretty steady work. We could wet about three pads before we ran out of water. It took me 55 minutes to refill with water and get back. By that time the other tender would be out of water and be on his way to fill up. I liked that better than just trying to stay awake.

The fire was back in country that was so rough that they were sending in crews and dropping them off for 24 hours to dig the fire lines around the fires. We were sending them the supplies that they needed to accomplish that.

  https://vimeo.com/136967817    password-  owyheeflyer

This is one of the French "A Stars". The first load out was just a normal load on a short line. The second was to an area that was very dusty, so the loads were sent out on a long line. The video's were taken on my cell phone.

The camp was in a field that had dust about ankle deep. It was hot and sweaty. They placed Porta Potties at various distances around the field. I am not sure how many of you have ever had the "pleasure" of using one. Don't get me wrong, they can be a life saver, but just like sex, after it is over, one has time to think. If they are kept clean, there is little stink, depending on how hot it is, and how many people are using it. They are crowded and have a tendency to rock around on most fire camp ground. Not a good thing if they are pretty full. They are mostly (at least the ones that they get for fires) dark green, which is a color designed by nature to absorb sunlight to make things grow. The TP holder is on the left side, and a plastic trough or receptacle is on the right for guy's to stand up and urinate in. The best have an open weave plastic floor so that the "dribbles" don't soil your pants when you drop them.

I have spent a lot of time ( can't help myself, but to wonder at the workings of other peoples minds ) wondering about the rational of supplying toilet paper that you are guaranteed to stick your finger through if there is less than 3 layers of said paper. My belief is that it is thought to save money by buying the crap paper that no one else will. ( It is not my intention to be indelicate here, but to examine the foibles of the mind.) I am very picky about the TP that we buy. I prefer that my hand washing after the fact be more of a healthy habit than a necessity. On the whole I generally use about a three feet piece of TP at home, on the job you could be talking about 10 feet or more. Is the institutional stuff actually three times cheaper than something that works?

The next thing that drives me crazy is to just slap something together that has no thought to the lay out or the ergonomics of the thing. You know- work smart, and all that. It is my opinion that most of the population is right handed, and even if you are not Muslim you will still wipe your butt with your left hand. That action requires that you lean to the right and a bit forward to access the affected parts. This means that your nose is very close to that urinal that I mentioned earlier. If you flinch and pull back- skid marks! I wonder if there is any call for Porta Potty designers?

"Plum Betsy"

Losing Pets is always hard, and Betsy is no exception. She was our first Pointer. Prior to her arrival we had Britney's, and a Setter. The country that I had always hunted in was too close for such a far ranging dog, but since I was due to retire, all that would be changing. It was my intention to spend a lot of my retirement in the Desert, where a Pointer would be best suited.

Randy Carnahan's nephew had some pups from a dog that they optimistically called a "walking Pointer" meaning that you might be able to keep up with them on foot. So at 7 weeks of age she joined our pack.

Unfortunately the Setter (Indy ) was a bit of an imprint, so Betsy's life was a lot harder than it had to be. She really never learned to play. Every time she tried, the Setter snapped at her, so she was a bit stunted socially. I cannot say how much was Setter induced, or just genetically caused. Still she was a loving pup, with a nose that could not be believed.

With a little training, a shock collar with a mile range and a call button she soon learned to stay within sight while she was hunting. She never required a shock, the buzz of the call was enough.

In 2006 we moved to the Desert in a location that she could be free. Most of my hunting is with a Falcon, but we did do a bit of gun work occasionally and her nose and pointing ability made her a joy to work with. Her main value to me and where she shined the most was hunting with Jessie the falcon. Deserts are notorious for their Eagle populations, and the danger that they represent to a Falcon cannot be underestimated. Betsy loved hunting with Jessie and when Jessie took something to the ground Betsy was not far behind. She would guard her back while I was lumbering my way to them. I could always count on her to be with Jessie, and to protect her.

On one such trip Jessie decided that she wanted to kill a Goose. She knocked it to the ground alright. I was about three hundred yards away up on a hill. When I arrived, Jessie was off the Goose on the ground backed up against a small bank. The Goose was standing in front of her about three feet away with its wings spread to its full 6 foot, and Betsy was running around behind the Goose barking and distracting it. My arrival caused the Goose to try to fly away. Betsy was chasing it and Jessie took off and grabbed it by the head. Without Betsy, none of this would have happened and Jessie would have likely been injured.

At that same pond we once flushed a flock of Swans. Jessie disappeared and while I was looking for her, I could see Betsy about a 1/4 to 1/2 mile away circling the Swan on the ground. Through binoculars I could see Jessie stooping and diving at it while Betsy was keeping it distracted. Thankfully Jessie finally decided that it might be a bit too big, and broke off. Somehow Betsy kept up with the flight and was there to help if she was needed.

Of course she wasn't always sweetness and light and there were times that I could have willingly strangled her. At some time in the development of this breed, they were bred for guard and fighting dogs, so at the least little thing she would bark, making me jump out of my skin, but she had my best interest in mind.

As I said its always hard to lose a pet companion, but she gave us 11 years of love and service, and although there are tears on this keyboard, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. 

She is buried down by the Creek with Curly (Britney ) and Blue ( Siamese and Ragdoll Cat ) She was a "Good Girl"!

Rats!

Once again the Desert is blooming and of course when it does the critters take advantage of the bounty. I have been fighting the Mice all spring. In fact my bucket traps have been supplying most of Jessie's ( Peregrine Falcon ) caloric intake. On those I used a roller, and it worked well for the Mice. The Rats however are too big to catch with that and I have had to enlarge and use other techniques for them. Some of the Bushy Tailed Wood Rats are up in the Grey Squirrel range when it comes to size.

In a normal year I can keep up with the Rat population with a couple of live traps. Of course then I have to kill them in such a way that they will be safe food for Jessie. No shooting allowed! Of course since they don't do all that well at holding still, the challenge is a bit more than I am capable of with any thing less than a shotgun. Josie the Brittney, has filled that niche quite well. She does have a tendency to  ( torture) play with her victims a bit however. The rats however are enough of a serious problem that they cannot be allowed in human habitation. The big ones ( Bushy Tailed Wood Rat ) has a scent gland that is guaranteed to stop up your sinuses in nothing flat, not to mention the damage to wiring and insulation. Any way- Trust me, you too would be just as ruthless if you had them over running your living area.

    
She likes to grab them by the tail and carry them to a safe spot to play with. Part of their escape mechanism is that the tail will come off the tail bone if not held really hard.

She is off, and away from any possible escape spots, at least until it bites her. Then all bets are off.

This is a supplement feed barrel for Cows. I have a board that is hinged so that if the Rats get out to where the apple is, it tips and they fall into the water below.

This is the nights catch. Two Bushy Tailed, one Desert Wood Rat, one Mouse.

Here is a short video. Password is -  owyheeflyer

https://vimeo.com/131104192

Desert wanderings

My friend John Hauck, and his Lady Nell, are out for their yearly visit They stopped by for a while, on their way to Alaska. John had bought a new Polaris Razor and of course wanted to do some trips around the area while they were here.

Our first trip was to the Sheepheads in an area called the fingers. My last video featured them when I flew. My reason for going was to see if I could get a line on the Bighorn Sheep that live there. I keep hoping that I will draw one of the lifetime tags before I get too decrepit to find them. Of course they were not at home this time. We took a picnic lunch and had a picnic as far out on the end that I could get Karen to ride without total rebellion. ( She can only stand just so much fun )

Coyote Lake appears to be almost full of water.

Cow Camp 

It was a nice trip but a little dusty. We had a good time and I can recommend smoked Chicken sandwich's on a high ridge as a good way to spend the evening.

We have been having some pretty hot temps for the last two days. Yesterday we had rain all around us. The day dawned nice and cool, and with the rain, the dust wouldn't be so bad. I decided that it would be a good time to visit the Prairie Falcon nest out in the desert on Rye Grass creek. It is seasonal, and there is some erosion that left a small cliff that a Golden first nested in, and eventually abandoned. There has been a Prairie Falcon there for at least two years.

We trailered the Razor out to the dirt road that would take us out there and began a 12 mile trip across the Desert. The storm yesterday that gave us the Red Rainbow wasn't all Verga. It had rained quite a lot on the road that we had to travel. We drove as close to our destination as we could get, then set out on foot to the nest area on Ryegrass Creek. It was a bout 2 miles over some pretty rough ankle turning rock gardens to get there, only to find that Ravens had taken over the nest site. Apparently the Prairies had not survived the winter, and it didn't take long for the Raven to move in.

 The nest is in the head of the little eroded canyon.

Taking a bit of a break.

With the only water around, the Indians apparently had hunted the area quite a lot. Apparently they had sat on the rim to wait for something to come by to drink. Therefore they quite likely spent their time making new arrow heads, or shooting the ones that they had at various game. Whatever the situation, there were quite a few chips and some arrow heads. 

You can see one of the Ravens in the right side of the picture.

John spent his time looking for more Indian bullets.

The old Eagles nest from the top of the cliff.

This is the little water hole at the base of the cliff.

This is the first Barrel type Cactus that I have seen here. Prickly Pear can be found, but I have never seen a round Cactus in this area.

Of course the rain has caused the Desert to bloom. These being some Trumpet type flowers.

Red Rainbow

This evening the sunset took on some colors that are even pretty remarkable even for here. As usual the storms circled around us. Rain every where except here at the house. The sunset was our compensation prize apparently. Verga ( rain that evaporates before it hits the ground ) was surrounding us and a rainbow formed within it, but was only blood red. None of the photo's are enhanced other than a bit of "sharpening" of the image. They were taken with between one to two F stops lower.