Guess...

What is happening in this photo? And what species, and where?

Update:

Early Monsoon?

Magdalena mountains last weekend, by Elizabeth Campbell. This is less than ten miles from us, mountains thrusting up to nearly 11,000 feet from a plain over 6000, between us and Socorro 2500 feet below on the Rio Grande.

Topping out-- telescope on the ridge ahead.

Going down toward Water Canyon, a hummingbird appears.  Peregrines nest in the cliffs to the right.

Looking northeast from the canyon, through Lee's ranch, at Polvadera Peak.

Random Doggage

Micaela's Firat and friend in Finland

Old Photo

From Tim Gallagher.

Caption from Lane Batot: "Upon opening an insurance office in Kyrghistan, agent Smith visited a local village in hopes of raising payment rates in regard to the residents keeping exotic and dangerous animals on the premises. Agent Smith has not been heard from since...."

Blog break

I have put up so many posts because I need to break from blogging to get a real start on my next book, the much- postponed Silk Road dogs travel- science- and- more volume that is closest to my heart, and because I cannot spend so much time distracted (or at the uncomfortable desk-- I am trying out a new laptop courtesy of my friend Beth). I suspect once it is really rolling I can return, I hope sooner than later. But my meds make me infinitely distractable, and I must get control of my real work again. Wish me luck!

My summer as a bee wrangler

I was corresponding with Jessica, who sends me great books on birds from Princeton Press (THE best ornithological publisher), when we strayed into bees. (She sent me this excellent book on North American bumblebees). It later occurred to me that my note to her might interest readers of the blog.

I spent a summer not long ago- 6 years past?-- collecting native bee species at the Sevilleta reserve, hundreds if not thousands, and mounting and labelling them, for money.

The hardest part was mounting the microbees a quarter of an inch long-- too small to pin. I would take them out of the freezer to "relax", in this case thaw; determine sex (wing venation-- if you look below the box in the pic you will see my "guide"); glue them to the side of a pin; then after the glue dried and before the bee did, expose the genitalia of the males, the only way to tell some species apart--! (If you don't believe me read Nabokov on his butterflies). I sat in front of the air conditioner with a bottle of chilled Russian vodka, a stack of 35 mm film canisters full of frozen bees, and a sheet of labels, and just locked down until I had at least a full box.

It was interesting work in some of the best desert I know, for good money, work I can no longer do since Parkinsonism makes me too clumsy, but it sure made for some odd bar and party conversation!

Lucas' Links

My friend whose cyber name is "Lucas Machias" sends more links than anyone I know, and I can't keep up with him. His favorite subjects include but are not limited to wildlife art, paleontology, evolution, and sporting lit. I have decided to occasionally give him a post of links of his own; there is no other way to keep up! With no further ado:

Predator prey relationships are more complicated than we think.

Never mind winter; drought is coming; or, it can get much worse.

Very cool mule deer migration video.

We have all seen them: an amazing clueless Amazon review.

Lucas reads a lot more fly fishing books than I do. Here is one about Russ Chatham's fishing mentor.

Microscopic sandworms of Dune?

"Hitchcock would have loved it." Mutating birds at Chernobyl.

Raven politics.

The Golden Eagle's genome has been sequenced. Interesting that it indicates a good sense of smell!

For all Roy Chapman Andrews fans. Unfortunately the internal link doesn't seem to be working; I may Google it later.

Svante Paabo's book on Neanderthals is out!.

More to come, I'm sure...

Book Review #2

I have been promising a review of Paula Young Lee's Deer Hunting in Paris for what seems like forever, and I apologize for taking so long. Part of it was thinking my way through to what I thought exactly or critically. I loved it and found it intensely quotable; on the other hand I found the tone of some passages a little frenetic, full of word- drunk riffing, perhaps fueled by a deconstructionist lit grad student's love of multiple meanings.

Curiously, my friend Gerry's positive but slightly critical review here, which faults her editor for not disciplining her tendency to wander, made me realize that I like such digression! I decided my best way to give you a glimpse of her work was to summarize, quickly, then quote. Read Gerry, then my selections, and you will know whether this sort of book is for you.

Deer Hunting in Paris is called a memoir, though Gerry thinks of it as a journal. Its double subtitles stretch to a Victorian length: "A memoir of God, guns, and game meat; how a preacher's daughter refuses to get married, travels the world, and learns to shoot." Paula Young Lee is an ethnic Korean preacher's daughter from Maine, who when the book opens is living in Paris, France, from which she travels regularly to Paris Maine and Wellesley Massachusetts, to hunt with her boyfriend.

 The book progresses gradually from her childhood through her relationship with her boyfriend (a contrast to her in every way,  Republican to her Democrat, wanting to get married while she doesn't, country to her city), while describing her education as a hunter. Meanwhile, she riffs compulsively about everything from the nature of hunting to cookbooks to the amazing hilarious Maine sellers' newsletter Uncle Henry's and the nature of writing. Some of her observations are serious, some inspired, and some silly, which doesn't mean they're not fun.

Each of these are best demonstrated by quotes. Silly? From Uncle Henry's, a few examples of ads :"I have an unknown sex bearded dragon... Arthritic salmon with flies in box... 3 year old running walker female trained on coyotes cold nose will run nonstop parents were cat dogs... gaggle of running gravelys too old to pull the straps too old to walk behind." Or her quotes from the index of an 1830 cookbook implausibly titled The Cook Not Mad: "BEDBUGS, to keep clear of; COOKIES, nice that will keep good three months; FEMALES' DRESS, to put out when on fire." (I want that book!)

On the writing life: "I wasn't looking for love, drugs, yoga classes, or any other 'girl' narratives attached to stories about free spirits traveling alone. When your trips abroad are being paid for by your father/divorce settlement/ publisher, you're not free. You're expensive."

Pure riffing? How about this one on Squirrel Nutkin? "The death of mice, moles, and minnows don't get most folks riled up about animal cruelty, especially since cute fluffy squirrels are doing the killing. So what if they're offering up lesser animals as sacrifices? It's the only way that the owl won't eat them, for the powerful are blessed by God, and they keep their wealth by doing His will. Only a nut rejects a perfectly profitable system that forces the poor to beg for food and pay a hideous price for the privilege. Hey ho... Nutkin! He's a red-headed rebel, a leader of the autonomous collective, a socialist- communist- Nazi- anarchist- terrorist- tree- hugger out to sow chaos in Eden. Wherefore he's the Devil's handmaiden."

Above all, and past all the silliness, she is drop-dead serious about the nature of hunting. "I now insist on eating birds and mammals, preferably wild ones shot by the man I love but won't marry, their bodies made into meat by our hands joined together. I don't feel guilty about it, sez the girl for whom a bee sting is lethal. Death is the promise. It is an intelluctable truth, for Nature is a murderous mother offering food every where we look... I am hungry. Such is the human condition. We hope and despair, rejoice and revile, celebrate and curse the profane absurdity of being apes rigged up in angels' wings."

"Angels don't eat. Apes covet meat."

Maybe I love it because I am a discursive, digressive, riffing writer myself. But I do, and I am liking it better even as I mine the text for quotes. I'd hunt with her any time, and will look forward to anything she writes.

Another Poet

Tim Murphy is not just one of our finest living poets, and the only one I know who celebrates what I have called "our Siberia", the chilly plains of North Dakota. He is a living rebuke to stereotypes: a farmer, a businessman, a Yale graduate who studied under Robert Penn Warren; a classicist who writes about dogs; a gay man who is a practicing Catholic; perhaps above all, at least for subjects, a passionate bird hunter who has written the only poetry collection I know of that is dedicated to hunting. I have written about him in my book of one hundred books. Here he talks about all these subjects and more on North Dakota TV.

Cowboy Poem

From Paul Zarzyski's Steering with my Knees, a real poem by a real poet who is also a real cowboy. And once more demonstrating that everything is attached to everything else, it is about John Moore's sister! ( I might add that Paul has drunk a few beers at the Golden Spur, but sometimes I think that EVERYBODY has).

Book review # 1

Do you want to know what a real rancher thinks? There are some excellent novels by "ranchers and..."; that is, writers who come to ranching from something else. But if there is another first- rate writer who comes from three generations on the harsh plains of eastern Montana, I don't know of him. John Moore is the real deal,  a poet and novelist who believes in saving the Sage grouse but not that government regulations are the best way to do it; who loves horses, but thinks it is tragic that horse slaughter is forbidden by sentimentalists who cause more pain than they save (actually John has written more sensibly about horses than most anybody recently).

I will not go on too long about his newest book, Looking for Lynne, because I have blurbed it, as follows: "John L Moore, rancher, horseman, poet, and serious novelist, is unembarrassed about the cowboy way; relentless in his examination of politically correct dogma, and darkly humorous. Looking for Lynne is suspenseful and sad, funny and moving and true." But as I have emphasized his seriousness, let me give you a little of his dry wit.

"Have any of you boys been to Elko?" Garcia asked.

"You mean the big cowboy poetry gathering?" Barney said.

"That'd be slumming for Renaissance men",  Joe joked.

"Slumming?" Garcia. "You don't like cowboy poetry?"

"Barn Wall's got nothing against cowboy poets," Ezra said. "Except that half of them aren't cowboys and fewer are poets."

"What?" Garcia said. "I don't believe this. I love cowboy poetry."

Nothing wrong with it," Joe said. "Except they need to cull the herd. They've been reproducing too quickly and overstocking the country."

Another Quote

A man can never have too much red wine, too many books, or too much ammunition.

(Attributed to Kipling by Paula Young Lee,  though I have heard a similar one attributed to Jeff Cooper-- who well may have gotten it from Kipling).

Caption?

Update: gwood got it in comments with "Use enough gun!"-- homage to Ruark....

Feathered Tyrants

Are we finally having the sense to use feathers as the default condition on at least Theropod Dinos? New and new- ish examples of these smaller relatives of T rex would seem to argue "yes".

Add caption

Brian Switek muses on the state of the arthere.

See also the website of John Conway, the most startling and maybe the most interesting interpreter of Dinos I know of. Currently you are confronted by the scariest "birdy" T rex around when you go to his site.

(He also has the sense to depict his big predators with their mouths closed. John McLoughlin, one of the pioneers in depicting and imagining birdlike Dinosaurs, has been complaining about fossil carnivores with mouths agape for about 30 years).

Utter Image Fail

How do they think that cartridge shoulder gets out through the barrel? And why should we take someone promoting their agenda with anything this dumb seriously?

Central Asian Dogs and Falconry

First, a wonderful film from Kyrgizstan-- in English!

Next, an amazing album of photos by our friend Jutta, who traveled there this spring. I have already posted a few of her photos.

Another film, from Turkmenistan. Notice the smaller Sakers there, more like Prairie falcons than Gyrs. The style of hunting is much like ours, only they use camels (and wear rather different hats).


The next video is on Vimeo and I don't know how to imbed it so will just give a link. It is Soviet- era and not the best quality, but has some glimpses of local falconry I have not seen anywhere else.

Quote

"Some read that they may embellish their conversation, or shine in dispute; some that they may not be detected in ignorance, or want the reputation of literary accomplishments: but the most general and prevalent reason of study is the impossibility of finding another amusement equally cheap or constant, equally independent on the hour or the weather.”
(Dr Johnson)

Coursing Poem

The sporting poem lives-- in several forms, but I like it that it does in our own vernacular and non-academic culture, not just as a barely- living remnant in England. By Dave Isely, of the threatened California coursing culture, sent by his wife Robin:

More Recent Arrivals

This Bullock's oriole showed up today to grab nectar out of one of the hummingbird feeders.

And this lazuli x indigo bunting hybrid showed up later in the day. I put up a post about these hybrids last summer.

Spring Storm

I woke up to this early this morning. At 2 PM it appears to be finally stopping. I can assure you the hummingbirds are not very happy about this. As we always say here, we can use the water.

Quote

 Jefferson grinned. "You strike me as a 'glass half-empty' kind of guy, sir," he said.

 "I'm a 'the glass is half-empty and filled with poison' kind of guy, actually," Wilson said.


- John Scalzi, The Human Division

Grazing & Grouse

 

Jim and I have noticed that sage grouse broods seem to be larger, and do better, in pastures where our sheep are grazing. Our observations are anecdotal of course, but we figure there are a couple of reasons why grouse do well with livestock grazing. The presence of our guardian animals (both guardian dogs and burros) discourages the use of these areas by predators while the herd is present. When our herds leave a pasture, the predators return, re-inhabiting that space until the cycle begins the next year.

The other important factor is the fresh manure from livestock that provides for a localized increase in bugs – important for survival of sage grouse chicks.

A new research project in southeastern Montana found that sage grouse did 
better in pastures with livestock grazing than in pastures without livestock 
grazing. Here's some highlights of the research:


• Nest success was higher for nests in pastures with livestock concurrently 
present (59%) than pastures without livestock (38%). Researchers observed no 
direct negative impacts (such as trampling) of livestock on nesting sage grouse.


• Brood success was higher for broods hatched in pastures with livestock (79%) 
than without livestock (61%). The researchers noted: "The mechanism driving 
this is unknown; it may have resulted from behavioral avoidance of livestock by 
predators, or reflect predator control efforts in areas with livestock."


• "Our results provide further evidence that livestock presence on the landscape 
can benefit nesting and brood-rearing sage-grouse."


• Mortality to adult hens was attributed primarily to avian predators (40%), 
followed by mammalian predators (27%). No mortalities were attributed to 
collisions with fences or power lines.
• "Our results concur with research elsewhere that livestock grazing is 
compatible with sage-grouse conservation."

The photos of grouse with cattle and sheep that accompany this post were taken on private land here in Sublette County, Wyoming. They demonstrate something the Montana researchers came away with: "Traditional family-owned ranching operations, the predominant local stakeholders in the Core Area, have historically managed land in a manner that is compatible with sage-grouse conservation and are 
well-poised to collaborate with wildlife and range professionals to maintain and improve sage-grouse habitat."

The research was conducted by Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks, in partnership with the Bureau of Land Management.

Observation

John Davila, one of my oldest NM friends, is an unreconstructed Catron county rancher, an unconventional soul who used to raise game chickens in the old days, not to mention cattle and stranger things.  I bet he likes the quote from a distant relative, 20th century philosopher Nicolas Gomez Davila, courtesy of David Zincavage's Never Yet Melted:

"The modern world will not be punished.

"It is the punishment."

Recent Arrivals

I saw our first lazuli bunting of the season yesterday and our first broad-tailed hummingbirds arrived last Sunday (these are recycled pictures, not the actual arrivers). So maybe we will have summer this year after all.

Of course they are predicting a foot of snow for Sunday.

I Quote Myself

Grouchily, from 2006, on the then- proposed coursing ban in CA. I may or may not elaborate...but I would not take back a word. Nor is its relevance particularly narrow.

"Calfornia and the current government of the UK are in the lead of the west's trying to ban death, injury, history, tragedy, and hurt feelings. Not only will it never happen; lives human and animal, and traditions and practices hundreds and more years old, are being destroyed by those ignorant of everything from biology to history. Loni Hancock by her own admission never heard of coursing until a few weeks ago, and her exposure consists of one short video with misleading commentary. Can she stand up and tell me that she knows more about my hounds than I do, or loves them better? You would put me in JAIL, and kill my dogs, because I do this?"

Local Color

Bar owner Darryl Pettis, new mayor Diego Montoya, and some library donations from Darryl -- because I can, and because I support both. (I am on the library board).

Not a secret, but I bet Libby and I are the only Magdalenians who have been there other than her: Diego's mother came from Waltham, Mass. Montoyas? I live in one of the oldest houses in town, dating to the 1870's. I am the first non- Montoya to own it,  albeit I have had it for more than a few years, and my electric bill address is still "Montoya Rock House". Though this may be the first time Dieguito ever heard it!

(Albuquerque Journal photo)

Found Poem

Recently there has been a small revival of the odd early twentieth century writer Robert Chambers, especially his "King in Yellow" a sort of pre- Lovecraft, atmospheric, semi- horror tale with a fin- de- siecle air about it-- think old Howard crossed with Beardsley or Wilde, though not as good.

I saw  a battered  copy of his 1904 In Search of the Unknown, supposedly about its narrator's search for and discovery of extinct or legendary beasts,  and picked it up, hoping for a cryptozoological version of Lovecraft. Besides, it had a cool cover:

 It was appallingly bad; overwritten, hysterical, without the vaguest notion of storytelling, animals real or imaginary, or far places. But in the front was a short poem, rather in the school of Kipling, that was worth the few pennies-- not great literature, and I am not sure I agree with its last line, but-- well, see for yourself:

Sounds like an idyllic childhood to me-- sounds like my childhood, or Ed Wilson's. Nor do I really buy the "murder to dissect" school"--  but then, I bet Chambers didn't as a kid...

Branding at Deep Springs

Ranching is not just some archaic way of life practiced only by Neanderthal reactionaries, as some urban columnists have recently implied. The unique and innovative Deep Springs College is also a working cattle ranch, and always has been one. In a splendid photo essay, Jack Frishman captures the spring gathering and branding.

Wendy Glenn

I don't have a lot  of facts at my fingertips about Wendy, and those who loved her have better things to do than run them down for me today. I don't need them, really.

Wendy was the organizing half of one of the most perfect teams I have ever known. She took care of the schedule and  telephones and later the computer and the business, though I'm sure she would have been happier on a horse.

I first heard about Warner as a houndsman, from some of the lion and bear hunters who still hang on against the odds in my county. He was the second generation in his family to pursue this vocation, one that is probably more expensive to maintain as a pro rather than as an avocation. He and his dogs were spoken of with respect in a society that gives such respect grudgingly; a rare and hard way to make an odd living does not always translate to graciousness. I was intrigued, as I have wanted to hunt lion on horseback since I was about 8. He and I had many mutual friends, including the great western photographer Jay Dusard.

When we met, we hit it off well (as everyone seemed to with the Glenns). Before I could act or write on the subject, Warner struck track on the first verifiable jaguar in the US in decades, and became a public figure. His photos, before he hauled his last hound off by the collar to let the cat run, became legend. He and  Wendy had started the Malpais Borderlands group shortly before that serendipitous find, to act as a sometimes unlikely link between ranchers and conservationists, and the great cat became its symbol. There is a book about it- I even contributed a small part.

They stayed the course, and if they sometimes found various allies a bit odd, they never said. Before the group, they had hosted hunters and outdoorsmen across the political spectrum; I remember Warner's telling me of a time when the most liberal Supreme Court judge visited at the same time as a man who was possibly our most conservative member of the House. I dared not ask if they got along, as Warner was so obviously fond of both. They had no ideological program. The only person I ever heard Wendy speak critically of was the failed lit major Kieran Suckling, founder of the cynically named Center for Biological diversity*, who ate as so many did at their table only to announce, after dinner (class act, Kieran) that although the land could not have had better stewards, he hoped to put them off their land and working "real jobs" soon. I don't have the heart to deconstruct all the stupidity in that.

I see I am speaking of the two, still. They were inseparable. The "Last Mountain Man"-- Jay's phrase-- and the best facilitator I ever knew, the friendly hand that kept more than a few strange allies working in harness, were as close as two rather different people could be. But it is Wendy who could call and get people to DO, or give (sometimes large) sums of money to a necessary end. I wrote to Jay, who said she was the strongest woman he had ever known, that she was a great woman but also... sweet, a rare combination.

If you believe, as I and a few others against all odds still do, that the land is best and finally only preserved with the active participation of those who live on it,  read up on the Malpais Group and the jaguar, raise a glass to Wendy, and donate a buck or two to an organization founded by old- fashioned hunters and Border ranchers that is dedicated to the preservation of real biodiversity, with the hair on.

Photos by Jay Dusard.

*Do NOT confuse Suckling's clueless troublemakers with the Berry Biodiversity Conservation Center at the University of Wyoming-- good guys.

Wendy Glenn, 1940- 2014, RIP

I will have a lot more to say tomorrow. Wendy and Warner Glen,  with unfailing humor and hard work, run-- ran?-- a model ranch in SE Arizona, and by force of personality they have forged unlikely bonds between ranchers and  conservation groups. Wendy was the voice of not just the Malpai Borderlands, but for all Southwestern conservationists who are smart enough to ask questions rather than stand on dogma.

Niki climbs

My daughter- in- law married a man,  Jack (Andrew Jackson) Frishman, who is himself the result of TWO people with a climbing lineage falling in love. Grandpa Ken Adam was on a T shirt depicting him rappelling from Lower Cathedral Spire in Yosemite in the 40's *. So it is pretty natural to want to learn how. And besides, she hiked to the top of Mount Taylor while quite pregnant with Eli...

It will be interesting to see what HE does.

 She can shoot, too...

 * The other was Doug Peacock, who went to our bar wearing a T shirt with an R Crumb portrait of Ed Abbey's character Hayduke. It is not a really good shirt to wear in cowboy bars, but the Spur is pretty mellow. Wade Dixon (extreme cow culture and an old friend) pointed to his T-shirt and said to him: "I never met anybody wearing his own face on his T-shirt before!"

Training

Very busy and a bit under the weather, so expect photos and no long text. Here are pics of Daniel's recent training. Call me provincial-- I didn't know they had places like that in California.