Fire!

I spent two and a half weeks camped with a friend at a trailhead near the Marble Mountain Wilderness. For awhile I averaged a trail ride every other day and gave the dogs some exercise, then spent a day around camp where I photographed and shot video footage of the deer that hung around the horse corrals. The weather was generally hot and humid. That is until the thunder storms rolled in.

The first storm arrived late in an afternoon, and was wild and western with wind, rain, thunder and lightning. The following day was a repeat except for the high wind. I learned from a Forest Service packer, via the Forest Service radio, that 21 lightning caused fires had been reported.

Fortunately none of the fires were close enough to present any danger where we were, so we decided to stay put for awhile and see what developed. The area became quite smokey from fires on the other side of the mountains, but the fires themselves were a long way away from us. After two days of sitting in camp we decided to pull up stakes and head for home.

The little valley where I live is now polluted with smoke from several fires, most of which are still uncontained. The worst fires seem to be near the small towns of Happy Camp and Orleans, on the opposite side of the Marble Mountains from where I sit, and near McCloud and the Pit River Country. Fire crews have been blessed with cooler temperatures the last two days, but breezy conditions continue to fan the flames. Rain is sorely needed, but according to the forecast there is none in sight. It looks like it is going to be a long dry summer.

Pre 4th of July campout.

The tail end of June, and the high country still closed by a lingering snowpack. Trails still blocked by downfall. It was a heavy winter.

I’m usually in the mountains before now, and I wanted to get in at least one trip before the holiday week set in and camps filled with people. Back packers and horsemen come from all over to hike and ride in our Wilderness Areas and the surrounding mountains, and the Forest Service would be directing them to the areas that are open. A phone call to the local Forest Service headquarters, and I was informed that the trail out of Lover’s Camp to Sky High Lakes was still closed. The trail had been cleared to the old cabin in Marble Valley, but snow still lay along the trail on Yellow Jacket Ridge and in pockets below the lakes. Hikers could make it, but horsemen would have to wait awhile.

I called an old friend and we decided on Shackleford Trailhead. Jim is an old hunting and camping buddy. 75 years old now, he spends most of his time puttering around camp, but he was ready to go. I gathered my camp outfit, loaded the mare in the trailer and the dogs in the pickup, and I was finally on my way to the mountains.

It didn’t take long to discover that the trails up the Shackleford Creek drainage were still in pretty bad shape. A group from Oregon, the Northwest Youth Corp, was clearing trail and doing general maintenance above our camp. This was my first encounter with this particular organization. I am familiar with the CCC’s, the YCC’s, and of course the Forest Service trail crew; but I had not heard of this group before. They did a fine job on the section of trail where I saw them working. A commercial packer took their tools and a camp outfit up the trail for them on Monday morning.

It was hot, and generally dry, during the 9 days we spent in the mountains. I don’t know what the actual temperature was, but I rode past Campbell Lake at an elevation of 5745 feet with sweat running down my face. Back home, the thermometer on my porch registered a high of 102 degrees while I was away. On 2 nights we could see lightning flashing farther north in Oregon, but we only got a few sprinkles. Not enough to settle the dust.

I fished Campbell Lake twice. It was slow, but I caught a few trout that went well with bacon and eggs for breakfast. Just not enough of them. Pretty brookies though, with nice pink meat; about as good as mountain trout get. I talked to a few people who had fished both Calf and Cliff Lakes, and no one was bragging much about the fishing.

I took the spillway trail down from Campbell Lake where it dumps into the creek. I found it still clogged with deadfall, but nothing I couldn’t jump Sis over or work around. The trail to Cliff Lake was open, and I heard that the trail to Calf Lake was accessible to horses for most of the way. Snow still blocked the upper part of the trail.

The trailhead was a busy place the whole time we were there. Day hikers and horse groups were in and out every day. The commercial packer took a party of 7 people to Cliff Lake for an extended stay on Thursday, and brought the Youth Corp out on his way back. A horse group from down south packed in to Summit Lake, or tried to, on the day we broke camp. I hadn’t heard anything about the condition of that trail, and I don’t know if they made it or not.

With all the activity around camp and up and down the trail, not a lot of wildlife was seen. A black tailed doe crossed the road just below camp several evenings on her way to the creek and water. Then there was the rattle snake that was entirely to close to where the dogs were tied on the edge of camp. Neither Jim or I tried any predator calling. We thought it would be a futile attempt under the circumstances.

I’ll sit out this holiday week at home and catch up on a few chores. I prefer some solitude when I set up a camp in the mountains, and it wasn’t to be had on this trip. In another week or so things will begin to settle down, and more trails will be open as this heat melts the snowpack.

Checking trail.

We went from an unusually wet spring (or extended winter) right into abnormally hot weather. In fact it has been breaking records for this time of the year. 95 degrees at my house yesterday; way to hot for so early in the season.
The dogs have really been feeling it. I sent my clipper blades away to be sharpened as I don’t normally give the dogs their summer haircuts this early, and I haven’t got them back yet. I’ve been due for a change of scenery anyway, so I thought today I would burn some gas and take the dogs down river and up on the mountain to Lover’s Camp and Trailhead. See if I could gain a little altitude and beat the heat. I would have gone to Shackleford Creek Trailhead as it is closer to home, but I’ve heard the road is washed out and I can’t get there from here!
One section of the river road almost fell into the river last winter, and it is still unrepaired. The County crew erected a barricade of sorts and called it good until sometime in the future when they can get to it. The river itself is running high and muddy from snowmelt in the high country. Some of the kayak groups that show up here in the summer to run the river could have a wild ride right now through the rocky stretches, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.
Soon after I left the river road and started up the mountain I saw a pile of bear scat. There are a few around now. This is big timber country. Pine, fir, and cedar, with some oak, chincapin, and madrone. Maple grows in the damp places along creeks, and dogwood is in bloom. Most of the rocks had been removed from the road, and I saw a Forest Service truck and lowboy parked at a wide spot, so I knew some sort of heavy equipment was working farther ahead, but I never saw it. I saw a pair of mountain quail on the drive up the mountain, and farther along I saw a deer on the down hill side of the road. I drove into Lover’s Camp without incident, but I wouldn’t have made it a few days earlier. There was a spot where a mud slide had blocked the road, and it was obvious from the color of the dirt that it had been removed just recently.
The place was deserted, so I turned the dogs out of the truck to run around while I walked down to check on the corrals. They looked to be in good shape, and the water had been turned on to the water troughs. Water is piped to the corrals from a spring, and it is turned off in the winter to prevent breaking the pipes. I didn’t see any bear sign around the corrals which surprised me. I would expect to find some there at this time of the year.
It was still plenty warm even up here, but not as bad as at home. I decided to hike up the trail about 3/4 of a mile to the fork to check things out. The trail is well shaded along this stretch, and there is a trickle of water crossing the trail every 100 yards or so, so the dogs could get a drink or even lay down in it anytime they want to. Trillium was beginning to bloom in places next to the trail.
I get a kick out of Dove and Sadie. I really thought that Dove would have to whip Sadie before now, which she could do easily enough if it came to that. Dove doesn’t want to fight, but at home Sadie is so jealous of Dove that she can hardly stand it. Out hunting or on the trail the two are inseparable. If you see one, you don’t have to look for the other. She is right there, within a few feet, or yards at the most. They are together all the time.
I’ve been wondering how Kelly, now 12 years old, is going to get around in the mountains this year. He’s really been feeling the heat with the heavy winter coat he is carrying, but when we started up the trail he lined out just like old times. I think once I get the hair off him he is going to do alright. Bear has youth on his side, and a lighter coat. It’s hard to slow him down.
About 100 yards up the trail I found the first down tree across the trail. I could step a horse over this one with no trouble. Where the trail intersected with one from the backpacker’s camp there was a single set of boot tracks. There wasn’t another human or horse track on the trail, so it was plain that the Forest Service trail crew hadn’t been there yet.
I hiked along the trail until I came to the fork where one trail goes on to Marble Valley and another crosses Canyon Creek and leads to Red Rock Valley. Right at the fork a down tree blocked both trails. I could climb over it easily enough, but the trail is blocked to horse traffic. With an ax and some work it would be possible to clear a way around one end of the tree to get a horse past it, but the Forest Service frowns on such things. Better to wait for the trail crew and let them earn their keep. They’re going to have fun with this one. It’s about 3 feet in diameter and will likely have to be cut in 3 places. It will take a team with a misery whip and a come-along to clear it from the trail. This is within designated Wilderness Area, so no chain saws allowed!
This is as far as I hiked up the trail, so I don’t know what lies ahead, but you can bet there are more down trees. Probably lots of them. It was a hard winter. I walked down to the creek and took a break while the dogs waded around in the water. I would have to want to get to the other side pretty bad to ride a horse off into that right now. Running high and swift. After a little while we headed back down the trail to the corrals and the pickup.
Back at the truck I got out an electronic caller and set it down by the corrals, then backed off to a shady spot at the camp where I have spent so much time over the years. I could sit in comfort while I ate my lunch, with a slight breeze blowing while I watched for any action. Usually there are a few ravens around to provide entertainment, but all that answered the call this day were a few Stellar Jays which lost interest after a few minutes.
When I finally decided it was time to head back down the mountain I looked around for the dogs. Dove and Bear were laying next to me. Sadie was down by the corrals poking her nose into whatever she could find to interest her, but I didn’t immediately see Kelly. The old dog knows his place in camp! I soon saw him bedded down in the shade under the low branches of a tree, exactly where he is normally tied when we camp at this spot. It was home to him.
According to the folks who make a living guessing what the next few day’s weather will bring, we have a major cool down coming. Supposed to be back to more normal mid 70's by the weekend. I think I can handle that.

Cabin fever.

Here we are well into the month of March, and winter just won’t go away. We had a short false spring, just enough to encourage some of the trees to begin to bud, then winter came right back to us again. One storm after another rolls in from the coast. I’m still very limited as to where I can go with the pickup. The mountain roads are still closed due to the snow pack, and anything other than a plowed County Road is pretty much out of the question. That limits me to a few roads right here on the valley floor.

I’ve been coming down with a powerful case of cabin fever, and made up my mind that I was going to get out and away from home for at least a little while today. I decided to take a short drive over to Mill Creek Canyon and cruse an area where deer are commonly seen wintering. It started to snow before I got away from the house, but I hoped it wouldn’t amount to much. I loaded a couple of dogs in the back of the truck and kept a video camera on the seat in the cab.

I drove through the wintering area in low gear, watching for deer on both sides of the road. It was snowing pretty good by now, and I didn’t see any kind of wildlife moving around. Walking in the snow doesn’t get a guy wet like rain does, so I decided to take a short hike up a road toward some timber company land. The last time I walked this road there were the tracks of a big bobcat in the snow. There were still a couple of inches of snow on the road, so I parked the truck and turned the dogs out. We hiked up to a bad washout in the road without seeing any fresh sign at all, so I retraced my steps, loaded the dogs back in the truck, and drove back through the deer wintering ground.
I was just about back to the main road when I saw a small herd of cattle bedded on the edge of a field up next to the timber, and there were 2 deer feeding almost next to them. The deer were feeding along, oblivious to the falling snow. I parked the pickup and secured the camcorder to a window mount support for stability, and shot several minutes of footage. You can download and view a short piece of streaming video by clicking on this link.
http://photos.imageevent.com/bobmc/video/Deer%20in%20snow..wmv
Be aware that this is a 3.4 mb download, so if you have a dialup connection it will take quite awhile.

Old dog - old horse - old friends.

A couple of weeks ago I had to say "Goodby" to an old dog. Casey was my first Airedale, and 100% hunting dog. Over his lifetime he looked up a tree at many a bear, bobcat, and cougar; as well as lesser game. In his last couple of years he began to fail badly. I think it was his heart that finally gave out. One evening he was fine, and the next morning he was near death. The stout heart that had carried him over many a mountain had given out. He was about 3 weeks short of 13 years old.
Smoky was a little Appaloosa that I purchased from a friend when he was about 11 years old. For a small horse, he was a walkin’ son of a gun, and he carried me over many a mountain trail for the next 10 years. When it became obvious that the longer trips with bigger and younger horses were beginning to tell on him, I let him go to a good home were he was well cared for through his retirement years. I learned yesterday that the old pony had passed on. I was not informed immediately, and as near as I can tell he must have died at very nearly the same time that Casey did. Smoky must have been nearly 30 years old.
Will Rogers is credited with once saying that "If dogs don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go". I would like to say the same about good horses. It would please me to think that maybe a good dog and a good horse are keeping each other company somewhere while they wait for me. I hope so anyway.

Opening statement.

Hunting is an activity enjoyed by many and criticized by some. To most people who participate it is an occasional pastime. To a few it is a way of life. Aside from a few native cultures in which subsistence hunting is a necessity, it is more of a lifestyle than an actual means of livelihood to the hard core hunters.

Hunting can be defined in different ways. According to Webster, the definition of hunt is “To follow or search for (game) for the purpose of capturing or killing; to pursue (game or prey) for food or for sport”. For my own purposes I break it down further than that. If I am hunting for food (not a basic necessity) I hunt with a gun. If I want the “hunting experience” with the off chance that I might actually bag an animal, I hunt with the traditional longbow and arrows. If I am hunting purely for sport, which incidentally I do far more often than the other two, I hunt with a camera.

Most people probably would not consider wildlife photography to be a form of hunting, but to me it entails all of the aspects of the hunt with the exception on the kill; and believe me a good photograph or piece of video footage can be a hard won trophy in its own right. Let me explain.

I have a neighbor who is a very good photographer. He is a backpacker, and has some outstanding photos of mountain scenery and animals in National and State Parks. His real desire is to obtain a photo of a cougar in the wild. He lives in an ideal location, and often sees cougar tracks on the old dirt logging roads behind his house, but he has never seen one of the cats. Why? What has he ever done to improve his chances of an encounter? He has an appreciation of nature and wildlife, but the hunting instinct is dormant in him. He hopes that someday while he is hiking behind his house, or in the surrounding mountains, that a big cat will step out in front of him and pose long enough for him to take a picture. In the meantime, and over a period of several years, I have treed cougars all around him with dogs and called several more with a predator call. Incidentally, none of these cats were shot with anything more deadly than a camera. It is still hunting as far as I am concerned. I’m just “shooting” different ammunition.

So who am I, and what defines me as an individual? I am a hunter, certainly. One of those who has built a lifestyle around it; but I have only two reasons to kill an animal. One is for food, and the other is to eliminate a predator which is preying on domestic animals. Another possibility is in self defense, but I have never been in a situation of that kind. I will take an animal or bird, or a fish from lake or stream, for the table; and in many ways I believe wild game is better for you than domestic meat. I do not hunt for fur, but I have no problem with those who do as long as they are harvesting a renewable resource. For the rest, it is for fun. I suppose you could call me an observer of nature as much as anything else, and the camera allows me to be in the field when the general hunting seasons are closed.

I will update these pages on a more or less infrequent basis. I may have a story about a recent hunt, or something as uneventful as a walk in the woods behind my house. I do not run my life on any kind of a schedule, and there are times when I am camped in or near the neighboring Wilderness Areas for extended periods of time, and have no access to a computer. Believe it or not, life without the Internet is still possible!