Edge

When I was 10 or 11, my parents started putting me on the Greyhound From Tucson to Gage, NM to help the grandparents out. They put me to work around the ranch for .65 cents an hour. I'd board the bus in Tucson with one suitcase, a ,22 Remington and a brick of .22s. Within 2 weeks, I'd be bugging the old folks for a ride (72 miles roundtrip) into Deming for more ammo. My how times have changed.

Anyone hunting, 4x4ing along the Mexican Border in the last 40 years had their movements watched by Fat Albert, too.

African or European?

Yesterday we (MULEPACKHUNTER and I) rode about an 18 mile loop thru the Eagletail Mountains north of the anvil. Didn't see squat for animals or sign of bighorns, just a few deer tracks and a chipmunk. Certainly was a good ride in a beautiful spot, though. Was shocking how the water at Indian Springs dried up or was consumed by cattle since just a few days ago when the water was abundant. Still plenty of water in the AZGF catchments.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Mountain Lion.... Your very welcome. But please understand that the wealth redistribution of the tasty mutton was for all to enjoy, including someday, we pesky human hunters. Why allow only your cousins and that crazy uncle Leo of yours, over in the Kofa Range, enjoy the feast? Your thanks and gratitude may be somewhat premature, however. When we released those zany, madcaps into your backyard, the rams didn't give a d@mn and the ewes seemed rather askew. But that's ending now and the sheep are re-banding and herding up. More eyes and ears at the waterhole and fewer solo acts mean you'll be working harder for your meals. And by exploiting these wooly, tender loins, you've exposed yourself for some much needed kitty cleansing. Perhaps if you hear more hounds at bay, you'll find a little less time for that procreation, recreation? Fewer felines means more sheep, more deer and safer trails for those hippie hikers. If you're still around next fall, there will be another sheep release. I'll be looking for you there (looking thru my 3-9x Redfield, that is). Sincerely, AZGF

thanks, learned something new. me and mulepacker heading to the Eagletails tomorrow......

I know some info on this topic, my step-daughter is a AZGF biologist that worked on the capture/release of these sheep. She also has the ability to track them via satellite. I think a biweekly update is fine. And if a sheep dies on a given day, it's way too soon to expect answers the following day. The collars give off a mortality ping if the animal hasn't moved in 24 hours. But you get the same ping if the collars come off, and they are designed to come off if the animals collar gets snagged, they out grow it, or in 24 months, whichever comes first. And each mortality ping means that collar is tracked down by a ground crew and if there is a dead animal, the animal is carried back to the lab for necropsy. This takes time. The first ram that died perished from cardiomyopathy. But when ground crews found it, a bear was happily munching on it, Should they have run to the mics and claimed a bear was the culprit, when in reality, bears and mountain lions scavenge. Perhaps AZGF has put a little too much faith in the wildlife corridor improvements made. Seems every time AZGF helps some critters, others pay the price. They build catchments and conduits to help game survive and travel about. But the predators quickly adapt too and use these man made improvements to help catch their prey there. In GMU 37A, AZGF writes about mountain lions.... Mountan lions lounge in the overflow tubes of the AZ Canal to ambush wildlife... Duh.

I've spent 5 out of the last 9 days in the northern Eagletails, GMU 41. No sheep and none on my game cams. They're probably further south. I got no 41E on my AZGF map, where is it?

"Why do McDonalds have a brail menu at their drive thru's??" So blind folk can make poor food choices, too.

Why does my hunting license have a box marked SEX, but no boxes for YES or NO?

If you want to PM me your number, I'll call you if I spot a lion. I rode a trail last Wed and when I rode it back out again found lion tracks in mine so they were 6-8 hours old or less.

Back when I was knee high to a grasshopper, the family was up at Reservation Lake, hunting trout. It was noonish and dad had the charcoal grill going. It's not a big lake and on the opposite side from us, a bear walked out of the woods and waded into the lake. We all watched in wonderment as that bear tried to catch his lunch by tossing fish up onto the shore as we human siblings waited for our burgers and the parents cooked steaks. The bear wasn't having much luck trout tossing but he did get a good whiff of our grill. So he started swimming. "Oh, aint nature grand?" Mom commented as that bear started dog paddling straight towards us. Narratives such as; "He will never make it, it's too far across the lake." and "Don't overreact, he's just out for a swim." Soon gave way to..."Jean, get the kids into the camper, I'll save the food." Mom safely stowed us kids into the overhead bunk as dad joined us in the camper, carrying the grill with him. In true caveman form, he wasn't giving up that meat without a fight. Meanwhile the bear was just coming ashore with a big grin on his face, some 30' away and shook off like a dog. He cantered straight up to the back window of the camper, stood on his hind legs and peered in. Dad had unholstered his 1911 and was holding it point blank at the bears face. Mom was pleading with dad not to shoot unless he had to, dad was telling mom to "shut-up." I think that bear sensed a bad outcome for him if he pressed the issue at our camper, so he sauntered over to the camper beside us. Those trout hunters had just left the screen door closed and they were still out on the lake..... The bear had no trouble pushing the screen door in, then went ahead and completely trashed their camper. The bear reemerged from the camper with a Tupperware container of fried chicken, which he pounced on till it popped. Then that bear grabbed a drumstick and laid on his back and held that chicken leg between his front paws and munched away. But all fun must end and the sound of the neighbors boat coming on shore, sent the bear scurrying away with as much chicken as he could fit into his mouth. We exited the camper with food intact but a little dizzy from all the fumes. Dad had saved our lunch but nearly poisoned us in the process. Love ya, dad.

I would put a rug sack over that sleeping bag. If you don't want to buy a bedroll cover, an old pant leg works good.

Oh my yes, a hungry bear definitely came in for his meal, I didn't have to wait long for that. Must say that was the first time I smelled a bear before I saw it. It came in from behind me, shuffling his feet like a locomotive thru the woods.

Once when I was about 12, my dad and I came across a deer that had been killed, partially eaten and somewhat buried by a bear. Dad asked me if I wanted my first bear and I was afraid to say "Thank you, but NO," If I had said no, dad may have replaced me with my sister as one of his hunting partners. A big pine had blown over about 20' from the kill, it's roots took enough dirt and rock with it to make a nice looking fox hole to lay low in and wait. Dad gave me his 30-06 Game Master with extra clip, .357 Ruger, a walkie-talkie, 5 cell flash light and a thermos full of hot, black coffee.Then dad left. Walking back to the jeep he said, "Nice knowing ya, son" and "Don't tell your mother." Yup, dad left me there to battle the bear alone and grow the heck up, I reckon.... Heck, I thought I'd done all that growin up stuff when he taught me at 9 how to fist fight while wearing roller skates. Love you, dad!

I was laughing so hard I think I accidently clicked on the dislike button. Sorry.

yes azgf is doing aerial surveys of south central thru se AZ thru early Feb.

I'd like to try that lost beef call...bet it works great. I was probably about 8 years old when my dad started teaching me to call. 45 years later, I'm taking a renewed interest in calling and I'm using the same hand me down call. It's a distressed rabbit. It worked, called in lions, bobcat, coyote, various birds and even deer. The deer let their curiosity get the best of them. Another hunter convinced me to carry a squeaky toy, too. I've seen predators stop dead in their tracks at the sound of a Hello Kitty chew toy.

I have bobcats in my backyard....

Without going back and reading the story again (I heard it first hand), Let me assure you the only thing that's smells like fish, is the fact that the dweeb whom wrote the story is not an outdoorsman or hunter. He took journalistic license to the point of the absurd. It was about like sending an auto mechanic to do a climatology report. Last I heard, the head is hanging at the community college classroom in Blanding, UT where Max's son is an instructor. I love Mrs. Johnson with all my heart, but honestly, Max or his son should've been interviewed for the story, not that the hick reporter would have got it right...Knowing Max, I'm sure he was busy tending to his 5,000 acre farm and herd of Foxtrotters in Eastland, UT. The head is an SCI record, not WSI. There is no WSI nor do I recall that mistake made, but it wouldn't surprise me. The reporter never even bothered to mention the SCI score. The head was discovered at an outdoors expo in Salt Lake, not an SCI Convention. Max's son is a teacher and hunting guide and had a booth there displaying the head and his Alaska guiding services. Max is not concerned about the money this deer head may be worth, he believes his treasure awaits him. He is a devote Christian and loving family man that I have great admiration for. Oh and as a side note, the buck had been scored before by Boone and Crockett but received some lesser score.

Heading that way for archery deer, any boots on the ground there recently?

And a light weight tarp over ya in that hammock if it's cool or wet. Always nice to be up off the ground, specially when those crawley things come out. Anybody remember what happened to Lucas McCain when he woke up with a visitor in his fartsack?

I feel your pain. Took a friend of my wife's on a scouting/hunting ride thru a wilderness area with our small group of horsemen. I'm the only one with a rifle and tag. She too slammed the truck doors and yelled several times and when we started our 20 mile loop, kept trotting out ahead of our group, foiling any chance I had of seeing game. Heck she didn't even know where we were going.LOL At one point, even after a couple of lectures, the rest of us stopped and watched her meander nearly 1/4 mile out ahead while singing to herself. We had a good laugh but had to break our own silence and yell at her to come back before she was out of audio range. I can't recall the last time I met someone so keenly unaware. But we all had a good ride thru Gods country, placed some trail cams and that beats any day I've ever spent in town.

Most of the essentials have been mentioned, let me add one. Socks. Dry, clean wool socks. Even if your boots are waterproof, your feet sweat, bring 3 pair minimum and change 'em daily; just like Lt. Dan advised Pvt. Gump.

When I was 13 or 14, dad and I were hunting deer near Hannigan's Meadow. Walking down an old logging road, it was windy out. There was a steep canyon below us and steep hill beside us. Had to take a leak, told my dad so and handed him my rifle. He stepped forward about 30' and kept his back to me as he started glassing the hills ahead. I felt I'd made a big mistake giving dad my rifle when I could have just shouldered it. Suddenly a black bear walked into the road between dad and I. He'd been climbing up the canyon to our right and was now walking between me and pop. I didn't make a sound. The bear walked over to a tree 15' to my left and was sniffing it and circling it. Then he lifted his leg like a dog and began pissing. A couple seconds later his eyes met mine and he realized he wasn't alone. He woofed at me a couple times, then spun around on his heels and shot up the hill. So for an instance, we two strangers met there in the forest, answering natures call as one..