The further misadventures of a novice

As you know every thing in the desert revolves around food and especially water, since that will concentrate the food. The creek down below the house is nice, and I wouldn't like the property as well if it were not there. However it supplies a never ending list of things that like to eat Chickens and Pigeons.

The first year we were here we had a Badger kill 18 of my Chickens on Christmas Eve. He dug into the Chicken Pen, killed all he could and then dug a burrow to wait until he could stand to eat a bit more Chicken. Every fall or winter I get at least one Raccoon taking advantage of the abundance of protein here.

This year it was two Bobcats and at least one big Raccoon. One or the other dug a hole through the roof of my Pigeon house and almost decimated my pigeon population. They killed more than 20 birds. I had been counting on the excess of Pigeons for help on the winter food supply for Jessie the Peregrine.

With the help of my "trapper buddy" we set a live trap that he had bought just for catching Bob Cats. Well, we caught a Boar Raccoon in it and that rascal bent it enough out of shape to get out. In the mean time I rebuilt the roof of the Pigeon house and put a metal roof on it.  I set about trying to catch the varmint, any way I could.

One day before Christmas one of the passing raptors killed a Mallard Duck down on the creek. The next morning the carcass was gone, so I knew he was still here. Time for plan B. I had bought a steel trap on one of my trips to Cabelas, so I did all the research I could on line, and proceeded to set that trap for him. It took a few days but he came through again and got caught in the trap. I could see the area where the trap was from the house, and could check it with bino's from the window.  After a few days I went to check it and see about replacing the bait. Well the area was pretty torn up, and my trap was pulled through a Greasewood bush that I had wired the trap to, but it was empty. What ever had been trapped, pulled its foot out of the trap jaws. I had put a "trail Camera" where it could see the trap, and it showed a Raccoon peering in to the camera. In checking with my mentor I was told that Raccoons are very hard to keep in a trap. He suggested a rock for a drag rather than tying it hard and fast. I considered that option and decided that I didn't like the idea of searching through the Sage looking for a critter dragging a trap. I decided that nothing could uproot a Greaswood bush, so I used some aluminum wire that I found lying around the house, to secure the traps that I set to the Greasewood bushes.

I was so disgusted with the trap that I had bought from Cabelas That I ordered some bigger ones from a Trapping supply store on line, as well as some stuff to neutralize the smell.  Nothing is as simple as a bullet, but one does as is needed for the problem at hand.  My problem was that these guys were moving through in the middle of the night. When I sold my Coyote skins, I bought some prepared scents that were geared for Bobcats. Raccoons are merely a nuisance, Bobcats are worth something. I knew from tracks after a snow fall that a Bobcat some times moved along the the creek heading over to the ranch across the road.

When I got the new traps prepared I went down and replaced the one with the Cabelas trap and set a new one a bit further up the creek where I could see it from the house. I set the trap in as I would for a Bobcat, and put the scents in that I had bought. Not all that surprisingly, Skunk makes up most of the lures ingredients. Cats for whatever reason really like the smell of Skunk spray, be they domestic or wild. All through most of the rest of January nothing happened.

Then at noon on the day of the super bowl, I got up and did my usual look out of all the windows, of course looking for anything to shoot. I was quite surprised to see a big Bobcat down in the Sage coming up the creek towards the house. My rifle was right by the window, but I couldn't get a clean shot there so I went out to the rifle rest where I normally shoot, to try to get an angle that I could shoot him. Karen and I each saw him two more times, but so quick and fleeting a glance that I could never get my sights on him. He was not alarmed or even knew that we were trying to shoot him. They just move very stealthily from cover to cover, and it is rare to even see on in the wild at all. They blend so well that when they stop they literally disappear. Finally somehow or the other he disappeared and I never got a shot or another sighting of him. He apparently jumped the creek and got into the heavier cover and moved on up the creek heading for Tami's.

This morning I decided to check the traps and see if the baits needed refreshing. I was alarmed to find that I had again caught something, but this time the trap and the critter was gone. The ground was torn up all around the Greasewood bush, and I could see where sharp claws had dug up the ground. I of course assumed that I had caught and lost a Bobcat. I had wired the trap to the bush with a piece of the Aluminum wire that I had found here at the place. I liked it because it was very easy to bend. I never in my wildest dreams thought that a critter could break it, but there it was. Feeling like a idiot as well as a cad, I went back to the house and got the dogs which were my only hope of finding it.

Now my two dogs are designed to find birds, but they were my only option. Josie seemed to be interested, Betsy sniffed the spot and dismissed it immediately, but I was hoping that if they came face to face with the critter they would have sense enough to somehow let me know.  I drove on down the road on the quad while the dogs ran all over the Sage looking for birds. They do cover a lot of ground and I was hoping that on one of their trips back and forth one of them would find it. I was not happy to think of the poor thing out there with a trap on its foot. No chance to survive at all.

I got down the road about a half mile, and did not see Josie. She had been last seen at the end of our fence. It is a place that the Deer like to sleep in as there is quite high Sage and good places to hide. So I began to back track and eventually Josie came down the road looking for me. I was bummed, as I had hoped that she would have the critter bayed up and holding it for me. Her predecessor would have done so, but she was raised differently. I decided to go through the cover anyway just to make sure. I had walked through most of it and was standing there watching the dogs for some sign that the object of my search was here. Josie came around a big bunch of Sage and I heard something strange. I almost dismissed the thought, but decided to check it out. As I rounded the bush I heard a chain rattle. I hurried around expecting to find a Bobcat, but there was a Coon tail sticking out of the bush instead. I had caught it by the hind foot. I am not sure that I could have found it if the trap had been on the front foot.

I called Josie and she was a bit interested, but she had run right by it, and what alerted me was the Coon growling at her as she ran by. It never occurred to her that was what we were looking for. Betsy came by and barely even glanced at it. She apparently doesn't point Coons since they don't fly.

As you can see it is not a very big one, weighing only about 15 pounds. They can get up to 30 or 40 pounds.

So having my nose rubbed in it, I have decided to listen and use a rock drag. I am also using some much more serious steel wire. I cannot explain why I always do things the hard way, apparently it is a pattern that I am not going to break this late in life. Sigh!


 

More shooting

As you know I have gotten into Predator hunting this year, having nothing else to fill the short winter days and ease my "blood lust" requirement. With my replacement rifle, came a desire to reduce the size of the hole on the opposite side of whatever I shot. You ladies might want to skip this one, unless you are interested in shooting.

I am a "Reloader", having made my own shells and sometimes bullets since the late 60's. I had some H 380 powder that was reputed to be one of the best for the 22-250 that I am shooting. I decided to use the Hornady 40 grain Vmax bullet, whose main feature was that it was explosive. I did find a pretty good load that was 3677 fps. and just one big ragged hole at my 50 yard sight in distance.

I thought that that was pretty good and I shot about 6 Coyotes with them. Every thing was fine if I could hit in the shoulder as the bones caused the bullets to blow up not exiting the other side. Some of my shots were in close- 75 to 100 yards, and the only problem that I had with that was one poor Coyote that I shot that was facing me and about 20 feet lower than where I was hiding. The bullet hit the backbone and opened her up for about 14 inches. That is when I started shooting them in the shoulder. One nice feature of this bullet, is that the Coyotes never moved after the shot. If I hit them they were dead, generally dropping in their tracks.

Of course Coyotes do not willingly go to the skinning shed, so some of my shots were at pretty long distances. That meant that I had to now carry a range finder when I went to call Coyotes. I got to where I was using an "Alaskan Back pack" (frame big enough to pack out Moose) to carry all of my crap.

My next adventure concerned a Coyote that was suspicious of my calling, and began to edge away. I knew that I was going to have to take my chances with what I considered an extreme distance. My rifle was sighted in at 100 yards at this time. I raised the sight at the top of its back, and pulled the trigger. I didn't see what happened, but I heard the bullet hit with a "whack". I kept my eye on the last spot that I had seen her, and was actually quite surprised to eventually find her quite dead. I had hit her just under the spine and another sewing job was in store for me when I got her skinned. I paced it off as I walked back to my stand and ended up with 325 paces.

My next evolution was "Point blank range". In essence that means sighting the rifle in at the distance that will give you the least amount of variation both over and under out to 300 yards. For the loading that I listed above that was 245 yards. That resulted in being 1.7 inches high at 100 yards, 2 3/4 high at 200 yards, 4 1/2 low at 300 yards. Sounds pretty good right?

The first thing that began to cause some doubt was a Coyote that I finally called in one 4 degree morning at daylight. It was pretty close, about 125 yards was my guess. I aimed at the middle of the shoulder and was quite surprised when He left the area at a high rate of speed. There was an inch or so of snow on the ground and I tracked him for about a 1/4 of a mile, and could find no indication that I had done any more than cut a few hairs off his back. Now I know where my sight was when I pulled the trigger, and it was on the shoulder, perhaps a bit high on the shoulder, so the bullet had to have been still climbing when it got to the Coyote. A Coyote is about 7 to 9 inches from top of the shoulder to the bottom of the chest.

My next problem came with "Frankenyote" of the post before this one. I can't be unhappy about how that came out, but the fact still remains, that I can still screw it up. I just resigned myself to giving it a lot more thought before I pull the trigger. The only problem with Coyotes is that there just usually isn't much time to waste when they finally show themselves.

My trapping - predator mentor had an old Remington 788 rifle in 22-250 that he had put aside for one of his son's 223's. He was having a problem with clean kills with the 223, and wanted to have his 22-250 operational again. I offered to work up a load for his gun.

I have been trying for 6 months or more to buy some more of the H 380 powder that I had used for my loads. I don't know if you have tried to buy anything to either shoot or make something to shoot. If the president has accomplished nothing else, he has spurred a run on guns and bullets. It is almost impossible to find bullets and powder. It just isn't on the store shelves, and you can't back order powder either. So I decided to use a different powder that I had, and rarely use. It is a bit faster burning than the H 380. I picked a starting load that was comparable to the one that I had worked out for the H 380, thinking that the comparable load would be pretty close. Actually it worked out to be the best load for the gun. I produced a five shot group that was less than 1/2 inch. I shot the group through a chronograph and found that the bullets were traveling at 4000 feet a second. That means that the "Point blank range" sight in was for 260 yards. At that sight in, the bullet was .49 inches high at 50 yards, 1.7 high at 100 yards, 2 1/4 high at 150 yards, 1.7 high at 200 and 3 1/4 low at 300 yards. I no longer need a range finder.

Just the addition of 300 fps reduces the bullet drop and the fluctuation of its path by a really significant amount. Plus the added speed will contribute to the explosive properties of the bullet by that much more. I had been a bit disappointed by the speed of the H 380 load, so I decided to see how my rifle liked the different powder.

I found that the exact same loading of 34.5 grains of IMR 3031 would produce this 3 shot group. The group measures .320 outside to outside. That is less that 100 thousands more than the diameter of the bullet.

I didn't waste much time in changing all my loaded ammo to this load. Now all I need is one Coyote to volunteer.

Frankenyote- Frank for short.

Well the tanning process is complete, and Frank has joined Roberta (winter ) on the left, and Bob (a summer) Bobcat on the right.

Its fairly amazing how quick and well the tanning process went. I suppose when you don't have to wait for someone to get around to your project it goes a lot faster. All in all it took two days. The hide is nice and supple, and of course the surgery is well hidden by the luxurious fur that Frank was sporting before he ran afoul of me.

Gun sights and boredom

The weather has moderated to the point that the below zero temps have given way to low teens. I have gone out several mornings trying to call in some Coyotes, and have met with utter failure each time. Enough so that I have been catching up on my reading and unfortunately watching the steady decline of America on TV. There just aren't that many Coyotes this year. The only place that you can find them is with the Cows. There isn't enough food out there in the Sage to make it worth while, so they move into the ranches where the food supply concentrates.

Out of desperation I ordered a book off of Amazon for my Kindle that of course guaranteed that I could kill more Coyotes if I read it. What the heck, I was out of reading entertainment and anything to lower the learning curve of predator hunting would be a worthwhile pursuit.

One of the chapters concerned rifles and the best point to be sighted in. Now most rifles are sighted in for 100 yards. As most normal hunting situations are at distances like that or closer. Here the nearest tree or obstacle to sight is likely in a neighbors yard. As most of you know that the bullet as it leaves the barrel of a gun start lower than the line of sight, then arc above the line of sight, crossing again at predetermined distances and eventually dropping to the earth. How flat the bullet shoots is governed by weight, speed and ballistic co efficiency. I will not go into it in detail, but for instance a hunting rifle bullet can, with a 100 yard sight in, drop as much as 26 inches out at 300 yards. That of course makes it difficult to hit anything unless you know where it will cross the sighted line. The key of course is to know how much it drops at any given distance..

In essence there is a distance for sighting for each bullet by caliber, weight and speed that the bullet travels, that gives the least amount of variance. Coyotes are very cunning, as evidenced by history and Indian folklore. They do not willingly give up their hides. Lots of them hang up in the 200 and 300 yard range. If anything looks a bit out of order, they fade away without being seen. Sometimes what you do see is pretty small, so exact accuracy is of paramount importance.

I shoot a 22-250 rifle with a 40 grain explosive bullet that is traveling at 3672 feet per second. My reloading manual showed a 245 yard sight in as the best sight in range. That would mean that at 50 yards the bullet would be 3/4 of an inch high, 1 3/4 high at 100 yards, 2 1/2 high at 200 yards, and 3 1/2 inches low at 300 yards. The theory being that a straight on sighting would hit the kill zone on the Coyote no matter how far out it was. Sounds good- right?

My normal sight in is 100 yards. If they are further out then I hold a bit higher. So far this year I had not missed even out to 321 paces, but what the heck, I can handle improvement, most likely need it.

As you can imagine I was interested in trying all this out. Now, I have a good view of quite a bit of the area around me. I can see a 300 yard area below me that sometimes a Coyote will cross to get to the Creek, and up to 350 yards on the other side of the creek. I have been watching since early October and have seen nothing, other than Deer down there. So on a snowy morning I decide to go across the road and get set up before daylight to call there, I know that a local Bobcat sometimes hunts there and Coyotes use the area as well.

The temperature was 4 degrees. Now I used all my earnings from last year to get me set up for just this type of hunting. I can stay warm enough to spend 45 minutes sitting on the ground, but movement can sometimes be a bit of a challenge. I use a "stadium" type seat, and can lean back a bit, but sometimes the elevation that the Coyote shows up can cause a bit of a challenge to get the sights on the critter. Finally after about 45 minutes a Coyote appears on the creek bank below me at about 75 or so yards. I admit I was a bit shaky, but the sights were on the Coyotes shoulder when the trigger broke over. The Coyote squatted a bit and took off at high speed. Sometimes they will run a bit if the shot is not immediately fatal. If you can track them they will pile up after the adrenaline runs out. There was an inch of snow, so tracking was not going to be a problem.

I walked back to the truck, and drove to the other side of the creek and began my tracking, expecting to find the Coyote piled up in the heavy sage. Well there was no blood at all, and after about 500 yards or more he finally quit running and began walking to another part of the ranch where it was a bit less exciting. A total MISS! How in the hell did that happen? I just don't normally miss. Just ask my dog, she will tell you that. She thinks I never miss. The only thing I can imagine is that I was a bit high on the shoulder when the trigger broke, and the bullet just barely missed the top of the back. Well crap! That wasn't supposed to happen. Back to my cave to sulk.

I decided that the charts were wrong, and the bullet was not performing as it was reported to be. I shot groups at 100, and 200 yards and found that they matched the book exactly. A hard pill to swallow. Being of genuine W.VA. redneck stock, shooting has always been one of the things that I excel in and pride myself on. Oh well, I decided not to tell my dog.

Finally shame at my slothfulness crept in to the point that I could no longer ignore the guilt, so a new plan to hunt a new area that should have a bunch of critters that had never heard a varmint call before and would be waiting for me to come gather them up.

A bit of a glitch occurred when I woke the next morning to find that a pretty brisk wind had blown in about a half inch of snow. I decided to wait for daylight before I started out so that I could look the country over to find a good spot. The wind was of course in the wrong direction for what I had planned, so I was pretty sure that it was a waste, but what the hell, I was already dressed.

I started up the hill from the house just as the Sun came up, and immediately turned back for the camera that I had forgotten.

 Already the day was better, just being able to see the Steens  glowing with the rising Sun.

I spent an hour watching the empty landscape, suffering just enough to ease my conscious about my slothful ways.

I returned home determined to ignore the suspicion that I was growing old and worthless. About mid morning I decided to call an old friend from the area where we used to live. I spent about 10 minutes talking to his lovely wife, and had just began talking to him, when I see a Coyote pop out of the brush across the creek. At first I was a bit amazed at the sight. I have not even heard a Coyote howl for months. I hung up, grabbed my rifle and went out to the hot tub to use if for a rest. I know that the top of the hill is 350 yards away, so I figured him for 300 yards. I couldn't see enough of him at three power, so I cranked the scope up to 9 power, held just below the top of his back, thinking that it would drop at that range. I touched it off and could hear the "smack" of the bullet and see the Coyote drop. Better!

 This is a camera view from where the Coyote was standing.

 The hide looks pretty good from here. The bullet I have chosen, is very explosive. The idea being that the bullet enters, blows up without exiting the other side. This requires a solid hit, and if it hits a bone, the hide damage is minimized.

 This is the first indication that the bullet hit a bit high. After returning to the house, I dug out the rangefinder and found to my surprise that the range was only 265 yards. Crap, the bullet hit just where I aimed.

  Remember I said that when the bullet hits a bone, even at that range, it blows up. Unfortunately in this case it took out the same amount of hide. At first I was inclined to discard it, but I cannot do that. I have been boning them and freezing them to feed to Yogi. She hates them, and likes the taste. It saves on my food bill for her, and salves my conscious at the same time. I decided to see how bad it was. As you can see the damage was fairly substantial, but due to the scarcity of things for them to eat, the hide was not all that fat. I have been wanting to tan one to hang on the wall to add to my "Redneck Ambiance", so this was a pretty good candidate for that.

 If any of you are wondering, a Coyote will supply 28 meals of hawk food, 30 if you don't blow them up. Its an ironic change of events that the top of the normal local food chain is now feeding those that he would normally prey on. First rule of Redneck- don't waste anything!

The hide fleshed quite well, and it only took 30 minutes or so to sew up the hole. Since the hide will be in a "tube shape" and turned hair side out, the missing part shouldn't matter all that much on the wall.

I think I will call him Frank. I just finished another fleshing session and will begin the tanning process this evening.

Throw another log on the fire!

Winter is progressing right along, although it has been pretty boring so far. As you can see we had a "blizzard" and it snowed almost an inch.  You may recall that rainfall here averages 4.5 inches a year. Thankfully being retired I could stay inside with the exception of the "critter chores", and getting more firewood.

With the advent of the snow I can see just how many rabbits we actually have here this year. Perhaps 3 or 4 are still alive and coming around the house. Pretty big let down for me. We had about 60 using the place this spring and most of the summer. Then in August they just disappeared. We also had several coveys of Quail and now we have perhaps 20 or so. They are coming in to the place to help the Pigeons and Chickens with their feed.

The weather so far has been pretty good. The coldest mornings have been still above zero.  A couple of mornings it got down to 4 degrees when I hunted Coyotes. Not much joy on that front either. It seems that the Coyotes have crashed in this sector as well as the Rabbits.

Most of the winters that we have spent here, it has stayed pretty good until the middle of Dec. and is pretty cold all through Jan. It seems to be right on schedule this year. The temperature this morning was -13 Degrees.

The biggest problem with minus temps is water for our critters, and during these minus temps, I end up carrying water. It is a blessing that I don't have to go outside unless I want to. It is compensation for being so old.

I have been a bit concerned about Jasper however. If you remember he is the little Kestrel that Tammi flew in 2011. He has chosen to stay here again this winter.  Last year the wild male that lives over at the ranch next door, managed to freeze himself to a metal rafter in their barn.

I primarily worry about him finding enough food when the temps get below zero. It takes a surprising amount of calories to keep such a little guy alive. About the only vermin that I ever see around here is a few Mice and Kangaroo Rats. The Rats are nocturnal, so a few Mice and whatever birds he can catch are about the only options.

Mice are a piece of cake for a Kestrel. Birds however are a different matter. Most can out fly a Kestrel, and most Kestrels do not ever try, unless they are desperate. Jasper hunts them regularly. He just needs to wait until they are distracted, and when things get tough, Jasper gets tougher.

When we were hunting him, it was here on the place, and mostly we hunted the Chicken pen for the Sparrows that were helping the Chickens with the food that I gave them. Last year I supplemented his food with an occasional Starling out of Jessie's food supply. I could tell when he needed some help, because he would sit on the power pole by the house. I fed him fairly often last year during the coldest part of the year.

He stayed here at the house until the Spring when he moved over to the ranch and courted a female that came by and stayed with him. I do not know for sure all that happened, but I think that the female that he paired with died when the young were just beginning to fledge. We found her when two young Kestrels of the year were found on the ground by one of the houses.

Young raptors have about a two week period where they are pretty helpless after they fly from the nest. We put a nest platform in the trees where they were found so that the parents could feed them. It never happened, so Tammi became a foster mother to them. Right about that time Jasper showed up at the house again.

All the rest of this year Jasper kept his distance, but stayed here at the place. I would see him most days sitting on the wind sock or his house that I put up for him last year.

When we were hunting him, I was in charge of the bagged game, so he was used to me whistling and waving a bird at him. He has shown no interest in me at all since last winter. When he has been hunting the pens, he would fly to the power lines when I approached.

This morning with the minus temps, I was concerned for him. I admit, I stayed in the house a bit longer until the minus temps came up above zero. Not much use in pouring water in tubs that would freeze before the Chickens and Pigeons would get a chance to drink. When I did finally go out, he was on the Chicken pens hoping to find a stupid Sparrow. He flew however up to the power pole while I was out there. I decided to see if he remembered and was hungry. I went into the house and picked up a half of a Starling and went back outside. I whistled the call that I used and waved the half Starling. He began bobbing his tail, so I knew he wanted it. I tossed it in the ranch yard, and as soon as it was in the air, he was off and on his way. He swooped down picking it up and flew off to a convenient perch to eat his meal. I don't mind feeding him occasionally, he has earned it.

One of the compensations of the winters here are the sunsets. Here is one as it developed. With the exception of sharpening the pictures, they have not been "photo shopped".

Jessie gets to hunt again.

Today is a bit stormy, and the wind is blowing. The low pressure is making Jessie very unsettled and more aware of her hunger. All in the wild are acutely aware of the weather and either feel the need to move on their migration and to stock up on food. Us humans just want to throw another log on the fire, and perhaps pour a little whiskey.

When I went to get Jess this morning, she started in begging me to either feed her or take her hunting. I decided that we would give the ranch a try and see if there was any new visitors.  I have kept her weight in the lower range of her response weight, and while she doesn't like it, her manners are better that way.

After noon, I had no more excuses left, so I talked Karen into going over with me. The wind had picked up a bit more by then. I snuck up to the little pond in the Sage feed lot on the other side of the barn. This is by far the best spot on the entire ranch to "Hawk" Ducks. It is only about 30 feet across and sunk down below the level of the ground, with tall Sage all around. If one is careful, you can sneak up close enough to see if there is anything in it.

I turned her loose after confirming that there was at least a couple of Teal on the pond. When the wind is blowing like it was today, she rarely goes up very high, rather skimming and zipping around. When I turned her loose a couple of wading birds took off, making me wonder if I had actually seen Ducks on the pond.  She really didn't give me that much indication that there was any thing there at all. I finally ran up to the pond, and found that there actually was Ducks there. One Mallard, four or five Teal. The Mallard and a Teal left the pond, with Jessie in pursuit. She in my opinion did not try all that hard to catch any thing. The Teal were still on the water, and was scared enough to stay there with me crouching at the edge of the bank behind a Grease wood bush. When she came back over, I forced the Teal to leave and they swirled around just above the Greasewood jinking and dodging any attempt to catch one of them. Surprisingly there was still a Ring Neck on the pond.

These little critters are almost impossible to get off the water when a Falcon is in the air. I went to the edge, no more than 15 feet away, and the Duck only ran on the water to the other end. I began throwing rocks at it and it finally took off into the wind. Jessie came swooping in down underneath the Duck and scooped it up, carrying it over the fence and landing on the other side.

While the flight was successful, it had very little that falconers strive for. but as one of my departed friends once said when confronted with what falconers call a "Rat hunt",  "Dead on the ground, is still dead,  and still count as one."

As you can see from the neck in these pictures the Duck has been dispatched. Jessie broke the Ducks neck, but nerves are still firing, and the Duck can thrash her around quite a bit.

The diver Ducks bleed a lot, I suppose that it because they get most of their food under the water, but whatever the reason. She always looks like she has been bathing in blood by the time she finishes.

When we got home, I gave her some new bath water, and as usual when she gets bloody, she wants a bath. It doesn't matter how cold it is, she is going to get soaked. I waited until she was done, and sitting on her perch shivering, I picked her up and put her on her perch in the shop and turned the heater on.

Here is a short video of today's flight. You can hear the wind, and I did not try to narrate the video.

https://vimeo.com/79840770   password ( owyheeflyer )

It doesn't always work out the way that you want.

 I have been working hard here at the place. I installed an electric gate on the driveway. Its always a pain in the butt when the rancher next door turns his cows out. There is little feed for them, and the smell of my hay stack requires that we keep the gate closed. Karen and I both hate opening and closing gates. At one time someone who lived here had an electric gate, so the idea has been lying there rotting away my resistance. Finally Costco had a sale on the one that I needed, so there went some more of my "summer wages" It took me most of a day to get it installed. I had to load up my cutting torch in the quad trailer to rid myself of some of the earlier attachment points. Everything seemed to be working satisfactorily, then the wind came up yesterday. I was a bit surprised at how much resistance a 20 MPH wind can cause. I had to adjust the "closing force" to counteract the wind.  Then I spent some time wiring the hanger with some flood lights so that I can see the area that I skin Coyotes.

I decided that it was time to do a bit more hunting, so I set my inner alarm for 5 AM. When I woke this morning, I grabbed a couple pieces of toast and headed to Bogus Creek.

I got there just as the Sun began to light up the sky. Coyotes were howling their greeting to the Sun down the creek towards the line Shack. The wind was also blowing that way, so I decided to go upstream to a couple of little springs, and try my hand there.

                                The moon set as the sun rose in the sky.

The normal set up to call Coyotes is to find an area that has some Coyotes, find a good field of fire, facing into the wind, with your back to something to block your outline. Now I am new at this, and the learning curve is pretty steep. As they say, " Even a blind Hog finds an acorn now and then", and I have been pretty lucky so far, and an accurate flat shooting rifle will go a long way to even the odds. Now someone who has never matched wits with Willy C might think it is a piece of cake. Not so!

The last Coyote that I called got suspicious out about 200 yards, and the rifle turned the tables for me. I have been told that one should have both a rifle and a shotgun when calling. Well I don't want to carry a shotgun along with all the other stuff that I carry.

The longest area of visibility was down wind, and about 100 yards maximum. In front of me I had about 75 yards before Lava domes cut off the view. I started the call, and about 5 minutes into the series, I could see a Coyote coming on the run, straight at me. I tried to get the rifle up, but the scope was set on 9 power, before I could readjust, a 3/4 grown Coyote ran up to the decoy, realized that it was a fake, turned and ran back the way that he came. Disappearing just as fast as he appeared. The descriptive term- "Bear Cub with mittens" comes to mind.

I had to laugh at the mental picture of what my reactions had been. I hoped that he would stop somewhere out there to look back, but he never did. I then cut to a "Coyote pup in distress" call, hoping that would make him look. I was scanning the area, and saw a large full grown Coyote cross the creek below me. He was obviously headed down wind to see what his nose could tell him. I had to turn over on my belly to try to bring the rifle to bear on him. I kept thinking that he would stop to check things out, but he never did. He dipped over a little ridge between us, and when he peeked over, he was about 60 yards out, and directly downwind. I never saw him again. Coyotes 2, pilgrims 0.

I went down the Creek towards the line shack, and stopped in a few places to call, but apparently all were sound asleep somewhere else.

I had been looking forward to calling at the shack, as I was sure that it was the spot to redeem my morning with, but I never saw a thing.

All was not a loss however. I find as I get older, I tend to loose things on occasion. Knives have been the obvious age indicator for me. For a while I was losing them on a regular basis. I even attempted to counteract this tendency by buying cheap ones, two at a time. Well this morning I discovered that I am not the only klutz running around without adult supervision.

So I spent the morning looking at Sun Rises, Moon sets, not seeing another soul, but seeing vast distances, and beautiful vistas. Finding that I am not the only one who can't keep a knife. Not to mention the exquisite pleasure of being outsmarted by Willy Coyote.