Oh, was I ever.
Last three years not exactly as I envisioned them.
UPDATE: Just so you know how positively nuts it can get around a big time athletic factory in the throes of a coaching search... the denizens of the interwebz are tracking private planes all over the country and creating scenarios from whole cloth. Crazy!
Friday, January 07, 2011
My Mistake. The Mystery Deepens.
A while back, I wrote a post here, titled "Winner... and still champion", voicing my amazement, and consternation over what I said at the time was the single most viewed post in the history of this blog. I wondered at the motivation of people from all over the world who would want to view an image of two deer fu... mating.
Well, Blogger has new stat tools, and it turns out that I mis-identified the December 2007 post that everyone was looking at, and had I been more observant at the time, it would have been clear to me that they were all looking at this one*:
..and it's obvious when you look at the Google search terms used that brought all these people to the site, they weren't coming (no pun intended) for the article. But, at least I have a little more respect and understanding for these sad, lonely men from around the globe.
So, case closed?
Not exactly, because when I look at the Blogger stats, I find that in their history (which, unfortunately, only goes back to May of last year), the most viewed post, by a very, very big margin... is this one!
I just don't get it. I really, really don't.
*Of course, posting this image again, means it will turn up in Google search results twice as much. Well, driving traffic to the blog, for whatever reasons, is what I want. More eyes on the blog, means potentially more eyes on the ads. There's a method to my madness.
Well, Blogger has new stat tools, and it turns out that I mis-identified the December 2007 post that everyone was looking at, and had I been more observant at the time, it would have been clear to me that they were all looking at this one*:
..and it's obvious when you look at the Google search terms used that brought all these people to the site, they weren't coming (no pun intended) for the article. But, at least I have a little more respect and understanding for these sad, lonely men from around the globe.
So, case closed?
Not exactly, because when I look at the Blogger stats, I find that in their history (which, unfortunately, only goes back to May of last year), the most viewed post, by a very, very big margin... is this one!
I just don't get it. I really, really don't.
*Of course, posting this image again, means it will turn up in Google search results twice as much. Well, driving traffic to the blog, for whatever reasons, is what I want. More eyes on the blog, means potentially more eyes on the ads. There's a method to my madness.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Field Of Dreams.
This coursing season started back in October, with a few posts, like this one, about the lack of jackrabbits in all the usual places. We had days where we'd walk and walk and only scare up one in a couple of hours, and it would usually suffer a quick fate, because it couldn't move any faster than the dogs in the unusually thick and high cover.
Things were looking grim.
Then, towards the end of October, I piled the crew in the Mitsubishi and headed out to explore an area that Margaret and I had found almost by accident last Spring while attempting to take shortcut from the highway by the Aerostat station about 20 miles southwest of Deming, to the Victorio Mountains some 25 miles west of Deming. As it turned out, it was shorter, but took about 90 minutes longer than if we had just driven around on the normal highways and county roads.
The area is huge, and is about 99% Federal and State land, leased for grazing some pretty large herds of cattle. The cover is much more reasonable than any of our usual fields this year, and the ground is as walkable as a walk in the park, meaning there's no "bunchgrass", or big holes, or boulders. It's flat.
That's all well and good, but is meaningless if there are no jacks! My first exploratory trip was to the area we'd first driven through in the spring. Jackrabbit "sign" was plentiful, but I saw no jacks. I did some more exploratory driving and discovered that there were at least a half dozen distinct separate areas where one could hunt, including a mammoth, flat plain that seemed to stretch out forever in all directions. It was time to bring in Dutch and his dogs to see if there were, indeed, rabbits in this ideal area.
The first couple of trips were fruitless, and I think Dutch was losing faith as he would prefer to go back to the old places, rather than make the long drive out to this field. But I kept at it, trying out new, different sections, and finally started getting some races. Got Dutch back, and for the last two months we've been getting in some really exciting races, with about a 25% catch rate. In that time we've probably seen and/or run close to 40 jacks, and we're really only scratching the surface. Dutch is now so confident in the fields that he has decided to run his famous Pack Hunt and Desert Hare Classic on them.
The new fields also came with an unsuspected bonus! With such a large expanse of flat, open land, the opportunity for great coursing photos was like nothing we've experienced in any of the other fields we hunt in southern New Mexico! The hounds actually have an opportunity to turn the hare many times, and often back in the direction of where they started.... where I wait with my camera.
The images below, are all from a single run on January 5, 2011. The dogs weren't lacking for opportunities to catch this jack, first with Willow in the lead, and later with the black and white Saluke, Bisa, who had several opportunities, but as we saw with the hare in the previous post, this field is starting to establish a reputation for strong jacks that will take anything your pack of hounds can dish out! This was another 3 minute marathon, that ended when the hare made it to the safety of the creosote bush patch on the north side of the draw, and Willow with a very sore foot.
Things were looking grim.
Then, towards the end of October, I piled the crew in the Mitsubishi and headed out to explore an area that Margaret and I had found almost by accident last Spring while attempting to take shortcut from the highway by the Aerostat station about 20 miles southwest of Deming, to the Victorio Mountains some 25 miles west of Deming. As it turned out, it was shorter, but took about 90 minutes longer than if we had just driven around on the normal highways and county roads.
The area is huge, and is about 99% Federal and State land, leased for grazing some pretty large herds of cattle. The cover is much more reasonable than any of our usual fields this year, and the ground is as walkable as a walk in the park, meaning there's no "bunchgrass", or big holes, or boulders. It's flat.
That's all well and good, but is meaningless if there are no jacks! My first exploratory trip was to the area we'd first driven through in the spring. Jackrabbit "sign" was plentiful, but I saw no jacks. I did some more exploratory driving and discovered that there were at least a half dozen distinct separate areas where one could hunt, including a mammoth, flat plain that seemed to stretch out forever in all directions. It was time to bring in Dutch and his dogs to see if there were, indeed, rabbits in this ideal area.
The first couple of trips were fruitless, and I think Dutch was losing faith as he would prefer to go back to the old places, rather than make the long drive out to this field. But I kept at it, trying out new, different sections, and finally started getting some races. Got Dutch back, and for the last two months we've been getting in some really exciting races, with about a 25% catch rate. In that time we've probably seen and/or run close to 40 jacks, and we're really only scratching the surface. Dutch is now so confident in the fields that he has decided to run his famous Pack Hunt and Desert Hare Classic on them.
The new fields also came with an unsuspected bonus! With such a large expanse of flat, open land, the opportunity for great coursing photos was like nothing we've experienced in any of the other fields we hunt in southern New Mexico! The hounds actually have an opportunity to turn the hare many times, and often back in the direction of where they started.... where I wait with my camera.
The images below, are all from a single run on January 5, 2011. The dogs weren't lacking for opportunities to catch this jack, first with Willow in the lead, and later with the black and white Saluke, Bisa, who had several opportunities, but as we saw with the hare in the previous post, this field is starting to establish a reputation for strong jacks that will take anything your pack of hounds can dish out! This was another 3 minute marathon, that ended when the hare made it to the safety of the creosote bush patch on the north side of the draw, and Willow with a very sore foot.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Scanners! Gut Wrenching.
Since this metal man was photographed on the Notre Dame campus many years ago, perhaps he is bemoaning a tough Irish loss. I wonder if he's still there?
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Perfectly Executed 180° Turnaround.
We had one of those runs the other day that tend to get more spectacular, the more time separates it from the actual event.
Dutch brought along "the incorrigible Bob Schulz" (Gazehounds & Coursing, pg 142), and Bob came with his truck box full of young, old, black, red, and silver staghounds. I brought the girls, Willow and Ashley. Dutch's gang included Phyllis, and Stretch (his new hotblood). We were at the big, open field that has produced some very photogenic runs already this season.
We had a couple of 30-second sprints that ended with a spectacular, diving grab by Willow that ended with her muzzle on the hare on the ground and her back legs straight up in the air in the first, and Dutch's Phyllis making the most of the second.
Now, Dutch has a bad back, which has curtailed a lot of his walking in the field over the last month or so. He generally walks with us as far from the trucks as he feels comfortable getting, then waits while the rest of us make big loops in the desert, looking for more jacks to chase. He then watches with his binoculars, and kind of acts like a de-facto "judge". It was during this "resting" period that the third jack jumped. Immediately in front of me, as it turned out, and it wasn't the most fortuitous of starts, as there were no less than two hounds right in front of him.. in his path of travel.
Somehow, the hare negotiated that obstacle, with a hard left turn that left the dogs with their jaws snapping at air. And the race was on.
When you hear the term, "survival of the fittest"... this is the kind of critter they're usually talking about. For nearly three minutes- more than a mile and a half- the hounds chased, and turned this jack until they ran out of our site into the draw to our south. Even then we knew the dogs were still turning it, because we could see periodic puffs of dust arise from the horizon. Finally the dust stopped, and we knew that either the jack had been caught, or it had made its escape into the heavy creosote bush field across the draw. It was several more minutes before the very knackered pack of hounds made it back to the trucks. Bloodless.
Later, when we were reliving, and embellishing the tale of the third race over steak and enchiladas at The Campos' Cafe, Dutch remarked that there was one time when he saw Phyllis running right next to the hare, and was looking right at it, when it doubled back, and gained some serious separation from its pursuers. He thought that was pretty spectacular.
When reviewing my images from the day, I was very happy to find the exact sequence that so impressed Dutch. And so, without further ado-
We can only hope that this hare, having survived the best our hounds could throw at it, survives further attacks from coyotes, and golden eagles, and bobcats, and other predators, to procreate, and pass these amazing survival skills on so we can continue to have exciting chases for years to come. Here's looking at you, kid.
Dutch brought along "the incorrigible Bob Schulz" (Gazehounds & Coursing, pg 142), and Bob came with his truck box full of young, old, black, red, and silver staghounds. I brought the girls, Willow and Ashley. Dutch's gang included Phyllis, and Stretch (his new hotblood). We were at the big, open field that has produced some very photogenic runs already this season.
We had a couple of 30-second sprints that ended with a spectacular, diving grab by Willow that ended with her muzzle on the hare on the ground and her back legs straight up in the air in the first, and Dutch's Phyllis making the most of the second.
Now, Dutch has a bad back, which has curtailed a lot of his walking in the field over the last month or so. He generally walks with us as far from the trucks as he feels comfortable getting, then waits while the rest of us make big loops in the desert, looking for more jacks to chase. He then watches with his binoculars, and kind of acts like a de-facto "judge". It was during this "resting" period that the third jack jumped. Immediately in front of me, as it turned out, and it wasn't the most fortuitous of starts, as there were no less than two hounds right in front of him.. in his path of travel.
Somehow, the hare negotiated that obstacle, with a hard left turn that left the dogs with their jaws snapping at air. And the race was on.
When you hear the term, "survival of the fittest"... this is the kind of critter they're usually talking about. For nearly three minutes- more than a mile and a half- the hounds chased, and turned this jack until they ran out of our site into the draw to our south. Even then we knew the dogs were still turning it, because we could see periodic puffs of dust arise from the horizon. Finally the dust stopped, and we knew that either the jack had been caught, or it had made its escape into the heavy creosote bush field across the draw. It was several more minutes before the very knackered pack of hounds made it back to the trucks. Bloodless.
Later, when we were reliving, and embellishing the tale of the third race over steak and enchiladas at The Campos' Cafe, Dutch remarked that there was one time when he saw Phyllis running right next to the hare, and was looking right at it, when it doubled back, and gained some serious separation from its pursuers. He thought that was pretty spectacular.
When reviewing my images from the day, I was very happy to find the exact sequence that so impressed Dutch. And so, without further ado-
We can only hope that this hare, having survived the best our hounds could throw at it, survives further attacks from coyotes, and golden eagles, and bobcats, and other predators, to procreate, and pass these amazing survival skills on so we can continue to have exciting chases for years to come. Here's looking at you, kid.
Scanners! Weather Ball Red....
The title of this post should be more than ample hint as to the location of this town setting from my college days in 1974. My feeling is that many, if not most of the buildings in this shot are long gone.
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