Unusual Year,Unusual Critter

To say that this has been an unusual year is a gross understatement!.

The temperature at the Lightner compound dropped to an amazing minus eight degrees one bone-freezing morning, then the drought hit and the rains came late and when they did hit, most of them went right around us!

I'd watch the storms come from every direction; a storm seemed imminent, then about a mile or so before hitting, they'd veer to the east, west, south or north! Time after time I watched them coming from the south, only to separate and go on either side; very strange weather indeed.

When we were fortunate to get an occasional frog-drowner, the ground soaked it up so fast that there was seldom any runoff. At most, the soil became loamy, but never truly muddy.

I could take hikes afterwards and never had to worry about my hikers getting "clumpy".

The pin oaks were late too; oh, they shed their leaves right on time in March, but they never leafed out until well into August.

But the oddest event wasn't the weather, but a critter- a mule deer doe to be specific. She first showed up last winter inside the four-foot high web fence that surrounds the property.

The doe was lying up in the head of a brushy draw and the dogs flushed her and sent her running back over the fence. I was hiking with them and saw her go, but instead of her running away, she stopped about thirty yards away and just looked back at me with those big, brown, soft eyes, as I got to the closest point to her.

I stood there talking softly to her, as is my habit with all critters that I approach close to. She just kept looking at me.

I'd never seen this doe before, at least that I would have paid attention to her. She was different in the fact that she was quite lean but not ribby, and she had extra long legs. Right off I nicknamed her "Rangey Doe", reminding me of some old wild Bronc or steer.

Whenever we'd see her, or jump her inside the fence, she was always alone, and the dogs would jump her usually in the same place. In every case, she'd jump the fence, then stop and stare at us from about the same distance.

In late August, just before the noon hour, I heard the dogs carrying on in the back yard. There is another web fence, five foot high, that surrounds the backyard. Huey and Buko were furiously barking at something very close, but on the other side of the fence.

What the? Since no coyote or dog can get through the outer web fence, I figgered that there was a fox, skunk or snake out there, maybe even a dreaded couti.

I got out there fast as I could, hobbled by a recent back injury while bear hunting, and arrived to see Rangey-Doe with her nose almost touching the fence! Then she suddenly stood on hind legs and pawed the air with her front legs in what I would call, a playful manner!

Upon seeing me, she stopped and stared then abruptly turned and trotted down to the outer fence and jumped. And in her usual manner, she stopped and stared back as I called to her.

A week later the dogs were again furiously carrying on, but this time right off of the back porch where we have a bird feeder on the fence. Both Jeri and I walked up and there stood Rangey-Doe, This time she didn't run away but stared at us both at ten feet!

She could care less that the dogs wanted to tear her apart. Of course, I asked her what she was doing; she didn't reply, but soon just casually turned and walked down to the water troughs, then into the brush.

It happened once more in September; the dogs were below the driveway along the outer fence and furious, so I hobble down there and sure enough, Rangey was coming towards them but outside the fence. She's just not afraid; she's almost tame.

I can't explain it. Did someone raise her from a fawn and with dogs? Why does she seek the company of my hounds when they absolutely don't like her? Many questions but no answers.

There is always something to see and do "out there' -all ya' gotta do is find it!
May the sun forever be at your back, the wind forever in your face, and may The Forever God bless you too.

Catron County Road Dispute Hits Private Property Hard

As County Commissioner McKeen states in his report about a road dispute (October Gazette), there was indeed a bulldozer run down the San Francisco River between Reserve and Alma in October. Less supportable, is the claim that it was a championing of private property rights. Nor was this bulldozing in response to a call for access by either county residents or visiting flatlanders. In 31 years, I've almost never been asked for permission to drive through this jeep-eating river canyon, and hunters on foot and horses have always been welcomed.

What they did was a deliberate provoking of the US Forest Service to create a test of the feds' right to restrict vehicle travel on any preexisting roads in this region - an illegal act of civil disobedience that we might applaud for its spirit of resistance, but an act that also happens to ignore, disrespect and violate private property in the process. Locked gates were breached and trees trampled. Private landholders are stuck in the middle of the latest county versus feds fight, a lot like a child getting a black eye from being caught in the middle of mom and dad throwing blows.

Old time respect for individual rights and private property was one of the factors that led me to choose this wonderful place for my home over 3 decades ago. A biker turned cactus hugger turned backwoodsman, there could be no better home for me than here, which is why I set aside writing and art to work hard labor jobs to pay for my own piece of dirt.

My neighbors are every bit as odd, painfully honest and full of attitude as I am, and I love them for it. But most of these good folks let out a John Wayne laugh when they hear about the county wanting to do repair and maintenance on this old wagon trail down the river! They remember how I used to go to the Commission every year for 15 years pleading for them to work on the "road" so I could get the beat-up old vehicles I could afford into my land. 15 times I pleaded my case, 15 times I was told they were letting it go and wouldn't be grading any crossings no matter how hard it was for me to get home.

Today, right before I wrote this, some friendly enough fellows from the Alma offroad vehicle club drove around our gate and moved trespass signs in order to come ask about access. They had accepted the encouragement of certain people to drive on down here without bothering to be told they were getting into the middle of a big county/federal battle, or that they would be considered in trespass by several of the landowners whose land they would be crossing. I felt sorry for them, fellows just out to have a good time, suddenly facing my irate wife who had her cooking interrupted! If they feel set-up in this process, well, they just might be right.

I do not personally believe in nor would I ever participate in litigation of any kind, I should make clear right now. I do not readily celebrate that fines said to exceed $60,000 will be levied against the county by the USFS and other agencies that feel harmed, more costly private lawsuits against the county will have their day in court, and yet more scant county funds will go to paying lawyers and penalties - and yet I have to accept that it's OK if that's how voters here want their dollars spent. After all, the United States was founded on expensive rebellions over matters of principle, and this latest move on the part of the commission is no less driven by principles of rights. The zealous Commissioners can strike a blow for me while they are at it, against the corporate backed Obama government and its endlessly expanding intrusion into our daily lives.

Unfortunately, whatever the merits of this debate on either side, the county's freedom to protest federal road management also happens to infringe in this case on the rights of private land holders - who should by all means have the right to prevent people from entering or damaging their property.

Whatever goes down between our ticked-off Catron County and a half dozen equally ticked off federal agencies, this issue of private land also needs to be considered and respected. And any innocent, well meaning folks considering taking up the general invitation to drive a disputed trail, should only fairly know the situation, and know that they will be considered to be trespassing if and when they make such a choice.

This isn't just about "roadless" versus access, trees versus pavement, or even county versus forest service. Would anyone reading this like to have their gates and signs ignored, and strangers driving trucks and dozers through their front yard?

As an American citizen who busted his bottom to pay for his "yard", I feel entirely patriotic in asking that it be respected.

Now go ahead and give the government hell, boys . . . it's the least you can do.

The Crux of the Condor
by Dexter Oliver

Wildlife Consultant & Writer
Duncan,Arizona

I like California condors. It's an exhilarating feeling to see a bird with a nine and a half foot wingspan glide thirty feet over your head while it checks you out. Knowing that they had their heyday 12,000 to 36,000 years ago during the Pleistocene Epoch adds to their unique condition. The fact that they are as ugly as original sin and reek of the dead carcasses they feed on doesn't detract from their appeal. Because they are so out of tune with the complex madness of the modern world it is easy for me to feel a certain kinship with them. We are both endangered species.

I like them so much that I use the image of a California condor on one of my business cards, right below the words "Action Wildlife Services". But I am enough of a realist to know that the planet has changed since the demise of mammoths, mastodons, giant sloths, saber-toothed cats, and other megafauna the scavenger birds fed upon. Back when humans were lucky to have a cave to dwell in but didn't have to worry about inflated mortgages. Unfortunately the condors haven't been able to adjust to overwhelming human activity and loss of major food sources.

The condors' range shrank to our Pacific coast and population numbers dwindled to just 23 when the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (FWS) gathered them for captive breeding in zoos. That was in the 1980s. The big birds did fine in this human conceived environment, propagated well, and soon had excess numbers that were then put back out into the wilds. Next year, 2012, will be the twenty year mark of this reintroduction attempt by the federal agency and partners such as the Peregrine Fund and the Ventana Wildlife Society. So far the project has cost 35 million dollars. Despite a recent spate of magazine articles willing to claim a glowing success (although they all still want you to send money to help out) the reality is easy to see if one looks closely enough.

California condors have had a tough time of things since the very first release efforts back in 1992. They died from forest fires, dehydration, malnutrition, being shot, golden eagle attack, coyote attack, ingesting lead bullet fragments from hunter gut piles, from chewing on lead battery posts on cars, as well as swallowing antifreeze from radiator hoses they sliced open with their powerful, sharp beaks. The birds were imprinted on all things human way too much and they turned into pests and vandals around the areas where they were turned loose. A vast array of personnel, both federal employees and volunteers have to feed them, chase them from people's homes and school yards, and give them "human aversion training". They need to be monitored constantly with radio telemetry and they have both transmitters and large numbered signs riveted onto their wings to facilitate this.

Despite the on-going feeding of still-born domestic calves to the birds they still have died from starvation. This can sometimes be faulted to the condors themselves because they have a rigid pecking order and the older, tougher birds often keep younger ones from the food. In Tibet, there are members of a low caste, called domdens, who handle human corpses for "sky burials". This involves putting the deceased on a high spot to be devoured by vultures because there is little fuel available for cremation. In our country it is federal employees and their lackeys who lug carcasses to high points to feed our own endangered members of the vulture family.

Another way these released birds have met their end is by colliding with electrical power lines. Five have died this way since the first releases with three dying in the past ten years near Big Sur. Because the project is flailing every which way to come up with the "success" that has been touted for years, the feds will do anything to try and keep the project afloat. This has recently meant threatening the Pacific Gas and Electric Company into burying about three miles of high power line where the three condors met their fate. The endangered species act (ESA) was invoked and used as a hammer over the electric company.

The work started in August 2011 and should be done in October (our tenth anniversary of another great federal success, the war in Afghanistan) at a price tag of 4.2 million dollars. A drop in the bucket compared to what the Department of Defense has flushed down the toilet in the Near East but still …

Interestingly enough, three state biologists and a helicopter pilot, flying a deer survey northeast of Big Sur, collided with power lines and were all killed in 2010. But the transmission lines there weren't buried.

Back in 1991 north up the coast of California, one of the country's most famous rock concert promoters, Bill Graham, and his pilot died in another helicopter that hit high power lines but those transmission lines weren't subsequently buried either. The list could probably go on but I think the point has been made. And since condors can fly 150 miles a day, burying three miles of power lines, at such a cost, seems like grasping at straws. Which is not uncommon with federal reintroduction programs.

Arizona got into the act back in 1996 when California condors were first released near the Vermilion Cliffs and in the Grand Canyon. Since there have not been enough food sources for these birds in this area for a long, long time one has to wonder if "reintroduction" is an accurate word to be using when describing the on-going open-air zoo that the project really has become.

2011 marks the second year of condor puppet shows on the south rim of the Grand Canyon and selling caps and tee-shirts with condor imprints has become a cottage industry. But this all smells oddly like a freak show at a county fair, where one might view a two-headed calf. Ted Turner once contemplated releasing condors on one or more of his New Mexico ranches but the realities such an action would have to deal with seems to have proven too much.

I worked as a FWS employee on the condor project north of Los Angeles in 2000 and quickly learned that the public was being fed a lot less than the truth about any of what was happening. The feds had freezers full of dead condors and files full of local newspaper stories reporting all the failures within the program. The personnel involved didn't seem up to the task at all. They were, however, competent enough to go on routine calls to use a "Super Soaker", a large toy water gun, to chase condors from people's homes that had been broken into; or where vehicles were torn up by the birds that would chew on anything man-made. These were free-flying but certainly not wild animals.

I got to trap and handle fourteen of the condors, replacing old tags and transmitters, and they seemed resigned to this indignation since they had all been through it before and would be again.

We had to chelate (pronounced kee-late) one, treat it for lead poisoning which is intensive hands-on work that you don't like to see done with what is supposed to be a wild animal. Everything I saw proved to me that if the birds were left on their own, as in a truly successful reintroduction, they would all be gone within less than a year.

Since we have them breeding so well in zoos, where they do just fine, why subject them to all the drastic problems they face outside of cages? (Hopefully we won't have another situation like Europe did during World War II when zoo animals, endangered or not, were eaten by starving people.)

The answer, after twenty years of playing around with this stuff, is that we're now doing it for folks to have jobs and to make money off the backs of dead and dying "nonessential and experimental" condors. Successful reintroductions, like elk and river otters in Arizona, mean getting people out of the equation as soon as possible. If that's not possible then there won't be any fulfillment.

I had been hired for a two year gig with the condors but by the end of three weeks I knew the inside scoop, not the mistruths fed to gullible reporters that I still see coming out in magazine articles. I had enough integrity to resign my position. Not surprisingly, I recently saw another job opening for that same job.

Dexter K. Oliver is a freelance writer and wildlife consultant living in Duncan, AZ. There is a chapter on the California condors in his book, "Tracks in the Sand: Tales From Outside City Limits".