Outdoor Writer

Tony's Grand Yard Adventure is now over -- and earlier than expected. BUT...not without a couple stops and starts thrown in. I had Javier and Jesus set up to paint the wall Thurs. morning and Francisco with his husky Bobcat and helper set to spread rock on Fri. So to be sure everything was on schedule, I called Javier on Mon. -- no answer and no return call. Same on Tues. -- twice. Then Tues. night I called Francisco. He answered and told me he was in Mexico visiting family. I asked if he was still set to go on Fri. He said he wasn't sure but would try to get back on Thurs. I wasn't a happy camper at this point. Thus, Weds. a.m. at 5 -dark-30, I wandered back to Home Depot to search out Javier. He wasn't there. I hung around about 30 mins. and talked to several others who were looking for work. Finally when Javier didn't show, I talked to Luis (understood and spoke English well) and Ramone (no English at all). Told them I wanted the wall painted and asked if they were interested in spreading the rock. I offered to bring them here to look, and if they didn't like it, I'd bring them back. They liked it and agreed to paint the wall for $100 and spread the 26 tons of rock for $300. That was $50 less than I had going with Javier and Francisco. The first thing they did was change out the blown wheelbarrow tire. They also threw some dirt in the back planter that Javier and Jesus had forgot to do. Then I got them painting. Ellen went to get air in the tire because the filter blew on my compressor as they were doing the tire change. Another Big boom! Once the painting was done, they started with the plastic and rock. We also borrowed my neighbor's wheelbarrow again. I could tell Luis had done it before just from the way he measured out and cut the plastic. We used every foot of plastic and every single pebble! Now these two guys worked their tails off and did everything I asked them to do the way I wanted it done. As a result, I gave them an extra $100 for a total of $500. They were tickled with that. Then Weds. night I'm on the couch watching the Diamondbacks' game and thinking how ugly the two walls on the sides looked since one was white and the other yellow while the new on was tan. I decided to paint the other two to match. It was off to HD again at 5:30 Thurs., hoping I could find Luis there because he said he likes paint work. He didn't show up but Ramone did. We agreed on $100 for both walls. Even though he doesn't understand English, my limited Spanish and lots of sign language got us through the morning. We had a 1/2 can of paint left from the front wall. That meant I had to wake Ellen at 6:15 to make a paint run for two more gallons. At this point, she was the unhappy camper. Ramone finished the job in about 4 hours, and I took him back to HD so he might get a bit more work. Weds. night I called both Javier and Francisco. Neither answered so I left them both the same message -- don't bother showing up; the job is done. Javier finally called at 8:30 Thurs., and I politely told him that if he answered his phone or returned calls, he and Jesus could have made $500. THE END And...the finished project...………...

I'm still looking for that elusive part-time helper. There has to be someone out there that's wants to make a bit of extra -- AND TAX-FREE -- dollars!

The dirt inside the tree well is the same level as outside of it. No dirt to be added. I have a bunch of old tight-meshed black shade cloth that I'm going to use. I'll criss-cross from each side of the tree trunk by using a slit and center hole. The inside of the well is 4'. So they'll be one 4' piece each overlapping from east, west, north & south. Then I'm putting 8 cu. ft. of brown bark mulch on top of that. I've also given it a couple good sprays of Roundup already.

I might divulge some secret spots but there ain't nobody that gets to see my "topies" except my wife! And I'm not sure what would have scared them off. I'm having a guy with a bobcat and his helper spread the rocks and the task I needed done right now is complete. Bright and early this a.m., I drove over to the nearby Home Depot, where about a dozen workers-for-hire were lurking in the parking lot. The first two I spoke to were waiting on a pick up from someone they had worked with before. The next one didn't understand a word I said -- perhaps because I mentioned a shovel. So then I struck up a conversation in ENGLISH with a guy about 22-23 or so named Jesus (as in Hayzuss) not the guy with the cross. He was born here, went to school in Flagstaff and spoke perfect English. That thrilled me to no end because before I left home I had printed out a bunch of stuff in Spanish off a translation site in case I needed more than my quite sparse supply of Spanish words and phrases. He also had a buddy there named Javier, who was also born here and spoke perfect English with no accent. So we sat and talked for about 20 mins. and did a little haggling until we got close to the right price. I can tell you right now that they no longer work for minimum wage. Finally, Javier offered to follow me home to see the job. That was about 6:15. They agreed to do it for $200, and I told them to get their butts going, which they did by starting to dig the trench. In the meantime, I had to wake up my wife so she could go to HD and pick up a couple bags of cement to mix with the gravel I already had in my backyard. She wasn't too pleased since she doesn't sleep well but tries to do so until at least 9 everyday. By the time she got back, they had finished the digging and moving the dirt to a backyard planter. They already had my mixer and a couple wheelbarrow loads of gravel out front. Once the cement got there, Jesus mixed and Javier wheeled it to the trench for distribution atop the plastic that Jesus had already put down. They finished the job at 10:45, and I was very satisfied with the result. The only glitch was sort of humorous. I was sitting on the patio, and they were on the other side of my driveway loading dirt into my wheelbarrow. All of a sudden I nearly came out of chair when what sounded like a gun shot came from where they were. Jesus turns and say " you got a blown tire." Since he was right next to the right rear tire of my wife's Elantra, which I couldn't see, I thought that was what he meant. Nope, it was the old, dried out tire on my 40-yr-old wheelbarrow that went kaboom after I had aired it up earlier because it was flat. End result: I sent Javier across to my neighbor's to ask to borrow their wheelbarrow, which we did. AND...they're coming back Thurs. to paint the wall and tree well.

No takers, huh? I guess I'm off to Home Depot today to get someone quick.

Yup, it will indeed be a good opportunity to not only make a few bucks but to learn some things as well. Besides grunt work, he'll be doing some carpentry, painting, tile work and such. Will even install a few windows. I already own a full array of every tool about known to man. LOL I have all the stationary power saws, air nailers, a 10" diamond blade tile saw and so forth. Even have a hammer or two. Below is the project I'm working on now. The first pix is after the demolition of the Bermuda grass that was there and the grading. The 2nd one is the wall and tree well that I had added last week. The rock arrives Tues. a.m. and will get spread on Fri. That's why I need someone RIGHT now. I want them to dig a shallow trench along the block walls on both sides of the yard and around the house foundation. After the grading, the dirt is soft, so easy-peasy digging. Then we'll put down a 2'-wide plastic strip with a line of concrete on top along the walls/foundation. I already had the concrete crew do that under the forms and into the wall foundation. Then the big sheets of plastic will overlap the narrower ones. Purpose: so none of that dang Bermuda grass will creep up between the concrete and rocks. I don't want to be spraying the rest of my life. My helper will also paint the wall and tree well.

This is from 1988. SHUFFLE OFF FOR BUFFALO Copyright by Tony Mandile Charles Jones roamed much of the West and Midwest during the late 1800s and the early 1900s. His earned the nickname "Buffalo" because of his skill at hunting the American bison during the time the big animals roamed the plains by the millions. Although Jones isn't exactly a household name, his legacy to Arizona is still quite evident today. At the turn of the century, he decided to introduce elk and buffalo into Arizona, choosing the North Kaibab Plateau as the site for his experiment. Jones planned to sell the hunting rights for both species. He also intended to crossbreed the bison with domestic cattle, winding up with a hybrid animal called either a cattalo or beefalo. Supposedly, these critters would provide the same benefits of beef cattle but would be much hardier, capable of living through weather and on land unsuited to domestic stock. Though the elk transplant never materialized, Jones did bring buffalo to Arizona. Jones and his friend, lion hunter Jim Owens, had captured a herd of buffalo in the Texas panhandle in the 1880s and moved them to Kansas. Later, part of the herd wound up in Monterey, California. Jones transferred 35 from there by way of Lund, Utah to the North Kaibab in 1905. He brought another 87 from the Kansas herd to Arizona a year later. Jones eventually became disenchanted with raising buffalo and rounded up as many as possible in 1909. He drove the buffs into Utah and sold them. Unknowingly, however, he left some strays behind. These became the property of the Grand Canyon Cattle Company, owned by none other than Jimmie Owens. By 1927, when the state purchased the herd for $10,000, the stray buffs had increased to 98 animals. The herds inhabiting Houserock Valley and the Raymond Ranch, established in 1945, are the descendants of those. According to the historians, the American bison might have existed in Arizona during prehistoric times. In contrast, estimates of their numbers living in the rest of the country during the 19th century often mention billions. In reality a truer estimate would be in the millions. When Lewis and Clark explored westward, they told of masses of buffalo, sometimes numbering more than 20,000 within sight of their wagons. The explorers also related how the huge herds darkened the Great Plains and seemingly made the land look like it was constantly moving. Other accounts tell of the concern the settlers had for their own safety as they occasionally used up several days moving their wagons through a single herd. Before the white man began his move West, the buffalo's only enemy was the American Indian. For them, the big mammal meant survival. The meat from one could feed an entire village for days. The hides became clothing and shelter. Because the buffalo provided these basic necessities of life and were so numerous, the tribes depended on them. They followed a particular herd for months at a time and developed ways to harvest the beasts with the primitive weapons available to them. Stampeding a herd to its death was a favorite technique. Indians on horseback drove the animals off a steep cliff or into dead-end canyons where they systematically dispatched them with spears or arrows. Some Indian hunters covered themselves with a buffalo hide and stalked into the herd or waited patiently for one to come to their imitation call of a calf in distress. Yet, while the Indians used the buffalo to survive, the white man was responsible for its downfall. Expeditions, made up of hunters from eastern America and Europe, came out west with the express idea of slaughter in mind. To them, the final tally of dead bison on the ground was a sign of their success. When train travel across the Great Plains later became a reality, the slaughter continued. While crews laid the tracks for the iron horses, hired buffalo hunters kept them supplied with meat. Usually, they removed only the choice parts and left the rest to rot or as food for scavengers. Once completed, the railroads provided a new sport. Shooting the animals from a slow-moving train turned into the entertainment of choice for westward-bound passengers. Naturally, given the weapons of the day and inexperience of those shooting the large creatures, many buffalo died a lingering death after being wounded. Finally, in the 1870s, a new boom helped put the American bison closer to extinction. With the advent of a revolutionary tanning process, the trade in buffalo hides expanded. The leather was far more durable than cowhide, and the grand buffalo population made it fairly easy to obtain. Both the white man and Indian quickly entered the hide-trading market. While the Indians continued to use the entire buffalo, the white hunters usually removed the hide and left the rest. Most were shipped off to Europe for tanning. In 1884, congress finally passed legislation protecting the buffalo from further damage. Unfortunately, by then it was too late. The slaughter had taken its toll earlier. Already in 1883, few bison remained on the Great Plains. Some historians say the population in the U.S. had dropped below 800. Since than, the buffalo number has increased to about 30,000 in North America. Thanks to Charlie Jones, about 200 now live in Arizona. The first state-authorized buffalo hunt occurred in 1927 at Houserock. The Arizona Game and Fish Department (AGFD), the new custodians for the animals, handed out 17 special permits and took the lucky hunters onto the buffalo range to kill an animal. Every year until 1961, the department allowed the state's sportsmen to cull the excess animals in this way. Although most fully grown bison average between 1,500 and 2,000 pounds, some can weigh 2,500 pounds or more. Consequently, killing one in the field was merely the beginning of the hard work to follow. The animal had to be skinned, quartered and transported back to the ranch headquarters. Considering the weight and bulk of the buffalo, this sometimes was difficult. In 1962, no doubt to ease some of the post-kill chore, the AGFD drastically changed the hunting method. The result was a hunt more appropriately called a "shoot." Each hunter who drew a permit also received a date and time for the "shoot." The department then rounded up the excess animals for culling and placed them in a large corral. Here, the "hunters" waited in three-man relays to shoot in the order their permits specified. The first hunter took his choice of three animals that were moved into the shooting pen. The second killed one of the remaining two buffalo, and the last hunter wound up with the third. A top shooter from the game department served as a back-up if a hunter only wounded his target. For the price of the permit, the AGFD provided the skinning and processing and gave the hunter the head, hide and one quarter of the meat. He also had the option of buying the rest of the meat for the same price per quarter as the permit fee. If he passed, anyone willing to pay the price could buy the meat. In 1973, the corral shoot became the focus of much controversy when the movie "Bless The Beasts And The Children" showed in America's theaters. The AGFD had allowed the filming to take place during one of the hunts. Unfortunately, the filmmakers had shrouded their intentions in a bit of mystery. The final editing made the hunt appear like an inhumane slaughter and raised the hackles of people across the nation. In reality, though truly not a hunt, the procedure was efficient. Dispatching a wounded buffalo was easy, permit holders had a 100 percent success and the harvesting of surplus animals was exact. Because of the criticism, however, the department reacted by returning to the earlier method. Another change came about in 1981. The price of a permit went up, and hunters kept the entire animal. The "Catch 22" was each hunter was responsible for taking care of his trophy; no longer did the department provide skinning and processing. A year later, the first REAL buffalo hunt occurred at Houserock Valley. A permit holder no longer would have a game department employee holding his hand in the field. The entire process of killing a buff and getting it out of the field became the hunter's responsibility. Because fences surround Houserock Ranch to keep the buffalo from roaming across northern Arizona, the hunt sounds quite easy. In fact, it can be very difficult. The ranch encompasses about 60,000 acres, including some rugged hills, deep canyons and large stand of trees. To make matters worst, the Arizona Wilderness Act of 1984 changed a large chunk of the ranch into part of a national wilderness area --- closing it to vehicle use. Thus, a hunter within the wilderness boundaries must either ride a horse or walk. Of course, when he kills a buffalo he must get it out the same way. At Raymond Ranch, the first hunt occurred in 1950. Because of its size --- about 14,700 acres --- all hunts remain like the original one at Houserock; an AGFD employee goes afield with the hunter to help him harvest a buff. Beginning with the 1989 season, nonresident hunters may take part in the state buffalo hunt for the first time. The new regulation limits the number of nonresident permits to 10 percent of the total available in any calendar year. It also stipulates no more than 50 percent or two tags for a hunt number will go to out-of-staters. Fortunately for residents, the nonresident fee might discourage some applicants. The price for an adult bull or any buffalo is $3,750. One specifically for a cow will cost $2,250, and a calf permit will be $1,200. In comparison, a resident pays $750, $450 and $240 respectively. The odds of drawing a tag are not as bad as some people believe. Although the permits usually average about 50 a year, first-choice applicants have about a one-in-six chance of being drawn. Compared to some of the elk and sheep hunts, those are pretty decent odds. Arizona's buffalo population averages about 200, about equally divided between the two ranches. The number of permits normally reflect how many animals must be harvested so the herd remains within the limits their habitat can support. In 1987, the department authorized 41 permits --- 26 at Raymond Ranch and 15 at Houserock. First choice applications numbered 217. Last year, about 300 hunters vied for the 61 permits available for the October season. Although the buffalo population and present day hunting pales compared to what they were a century ago, we should be thankful the magnificent animal still survives. We should also be thankful to Charlie "Buffalo" Jones. Without his folly, the bison, in all probability, never would have set foot in Arizona. ----- 30 -----

Hi Amanda, Stopped by to send my annual Christmas greetings. Promise I won't stay long. 😁

Thank you. You're probably one of the few who miss me. 😉

You ain't kidding about father time. If I had known I would still be alive at 77, I would have taken better care of my body. 🤣

Barely! 😉 See my reply to Snapshot.

I don't stop here very often except to wish folks well for the various holidays. I'm getting ready to sell ALL of my hunting, fishing, camping and golfing gear shortly, but I'll likely use Craig's List and eBay and then maybe post any leftover items here to help Amanda pay the bills with a 5% kickback. I don't look forward to the selling because I have LOTS, LOTS of stuff.

About as well as expected at 77 I guess. 🤣 Thanks for asking. I had a bout with colon cancer at the end of 2017 with 21 days in the hospital, but the surgery was a very successful one in getting rid of it all. And I'm now on oxygen 24/7, which has basically ended all my hunting, fishing and golfing. But I still get out of bed everyday, exercise a bit and do stuff at home - even out in the wood shop and yard. I just have my 100-ft O2 thingie attached. Fully retired from the writing business about 6 months ago, so deadlines and dealing with editors is a thing of the past. So how's about you? Still down in Wildcat country??

I'm trying to get in touch with Ryan Nenaber. He paid for a "How to Hunt Coues Deer" book via PayPal, but hasn't replied to three emails I've sent over the last week to the email address he used with PP. The mailing address he provided is in Fort Huachuca. Anyone know if he's a member here?

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL

I had posted about Bill's condition on my FB page this morning, and Amanda let me know about this thread here. Yesterday I posted the following on a different hunting site that Bill and I have been contributing to for about 15 years. It's similar to what I wrote on FB today. "Although Bill is a couple years older than me, he and I go back a long way. We have often had private discussions here and on other sites because we both shared many of the same medical issues and the medications to treat them. Ironically, we had such a discussion here only a few weeks ago, and those messages were still in my Private messaging area. The last thing I said to him in that exchange was, "Stay well, my friend." So this latest news both saddens me and also shows just how mortal we are." So now with the latest news, I send condolences to Bill's wife, Jean, and the rest of the family. He will no doubt be in a better place.

...and happy holidays to all my friends here.

Happy Thanksgiving to my friends here.

To all my friends.....

The photo was taken in 1978 about 100 yards down from the driveway to the resort we owned at the north end of Vallecito Lake, about 20 miles northeast of Durango, Colo. I shot it early in the morning after an overnight snowfall. The mountains in the background, several of which are "14teeners," are within the Weminuche Wilderness Area. Lots a memories from there, too. I killed my first bull elk on a DIY horseback hunt there in 1965. Over three years we lived there in the 1970s, I covered many miles on horseback guiding fishermen and hunters in that spectacular part of the state. Granite Lake -- one of the many in the Weminuche My youngest son Scott and I atop the Continental Divide at Donut Lake. 14teeners in the background. Scott is now 53 yrs. old. The local game warden climbing to the Divide while he and I were on an "unofficial" fishing trip.

I believe I spent my two cents here a long time ago.

Just stopped by to wish all my friends here a very HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Since there's no General discussion section here, I wasn't sure where to put this, sooo...here it is. If no one here has ever read any of the C.J. Box FICTIONAL mystery novels, you might give them a try. Box is a very capable, Wyoming-based writer with a nice style for easy reading, and for the most part, I'm found very few factual errors in them in regards to the hunting/outdoors aspects. His books, listed below, are all based on Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett, who usually gets involved in solving some sort of murder in each novel. There are lots of well-developed characters within each plot, too, and many of them carry over from one book to the next and even beyond. So if you decide to read any of them, I suggest you read them in order. The list starts with his first and goes from there. You can also read sample chapters on the C.J. Box web site. Open Season Savage Run Winterkill Trophy Hunt Out of Range Blue Heaven Free Fire I'm now about 1/2 way thru Free Fire, which takes place in and around Yellowstone NP. I read all the rest over the last year, and they were all good. -TONY

He isn't a B&C ram, but he's dead, tagged and at the taxidermist. Killed with my .264 WM in the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge on Dec. 7, 2012. Thanks to Tom Joiner (TJ) for all his help and companionship. If anyone here ever gets a chance to hunt with TJ, DO NOT pass up the chance. It will likely be one of the more enjoyable experiences of your lifetime. More later. (L to R) -- Tom Joiner (TJ) TJ finishing up the skinning job. The 175-yd uphill shot was from the hill at about 9 o'clock off TJ's shoulder on the left side -- his right shoulder. Used a 140-gr. bullet in the .264. DRT! The spoils, destined to be summer sausage, hanging in TJ's walk-in cooler Now let the sniping begin.