Author: Martian Joe

I know you cannot group all hunters together any more than you can group all non-hunters together, but a pattern does reveal itself as season two in this ranch unfolds. The visitors of this ranch do not treat her as kindly as those that live here at least part of the time.

Last week there was an elk carcass (female) on upper Schierl that was left in the ditch. Barely twenty percent of the meat was harvested, which seems wasteful in unto itself. It was literally in the ditch where our road guy dredges up material to flatten our roads, and also ensured any remaining rot surely will sully the Spring run off. The disrespect of this animal who gave its life was blatant and heartbreaking.

I have seen several hunters drive their vehicles across private lands in the fields by Gray Place and Brophy. I have seen hunters out at night with spot lights (only once), but the depravity of that activity?

Yesterday I ventured out on a mail and package run and stopped not once, nor twice, but three times to pick up trash off Merlo. Gatorade bottles should never be found in this ranch as such. Plastic food wrappers are shameful to find shining on the side of the road.

Many hunters in this ranch are here for a week or two a year, and they are here now. I respectfully request you respect this beautiful place, and yourself, and stop tossing plastic about. If hunters are eating what they harvest, why would they want our animals ingesting their plastic? If hunters want their ranch to remain beautiful, please respect both the land and the animals. I was raised differently; if we killed it, we ate it. All of it, not a token and the rest is left to rot and waste.

It does not seem to matter how long one lives in the ranch. This place seems to draw people of a certain make up, a certain set of base characteristics, a certain core that we all have bonded with, that drew us to this land.

Wednesday I met a man that just bought a cabin here. New blood replacing a couple with a twenty plus year bond to this ranch. He invited me into his home. With friends, we interpreted his solar system, helped get a fire going to prevent an evening chill, and met a very genuine nice man who is now our ranch neighbor. He asked many questions I asked a year ago. It was nice to proffer some wisdom, limited though it may be.

Thursday I made a new and true friend, simply for, when driving by, he stopped here to introduce himself. Another friend was here, we finished our errands, and ventured up the hill to this new fellow’s special, custom, hand finished cabin he had be laboring over for seven plus years. I’ve not seem a home in the ranch yet that is more personalized, unique, and brimming with one human’s life history embedded. A manifested vision, and it is a wonder to behold.

Friday night was dinner with neighbors and friends, and a chance to get introduced to some folks in the ranch. Slightly embarrassed, but comforted by familiar friends and a familiar setting, I managed to fall asleep in the living room during conversation. Apparently, I did not rouse easily, but luckily, was not snoring.

Saturday night was dinner with other friends, a fest, a night that ended after 1.30 a.m., but was full of laughter, sharing, and love.

Yesterday was a day of goodbyes. Two men whom I am proud to call friends left the ranch. The seasons are changing. People are making winter plans. I am too, mine just focus upon hunkering down here in the wilderness, excited that for a spell, the quiet, the blanketed snow, the peace shall return to this special place.

I am lucky to get to winter here yet again.

Fall is fully upon us now. Temperatures normally drop below freezing in the overnight, rising into the fifties during the day. It feels good this year, and feels normal. We did not suddenly plunge into the depths of winter and are gradually transitioning this year.

There is much equipment to move and relocate. I have learned where the wind whips the hardest, where the drifts formed, and how brutal, blind and lost anything outside can be, left untended. Nothing is left out this year. Nothing is untended, unsorted, or has no home. This place enters a form of stasis, once the snows persist, and a man comes to rely on his equipment out here, so tending is a must.

I am also extracting and tuning for the winter. Re-greasing every fitting on Moon Bug. Changing the oil in the generators. Rotating tires on the Jeep and Tacoma. The log splitter might be safely stored for the long winter, but other equipment is just ramping up its required usages, so we shift from Summer equipment to Winter. Summer clothing to hats, gloves, and wind proof jackets… Even a shift is required in mentality – from the Summer time full of warmth, beating sun and little side by sides buzzing the open roads to one of hunkering down, chimney stacks smoking, and quiet reflection by a near constant fire.

Getting the tracks on Moon Bug was a much different adventure this year. No stress as to the seasonality; I am early for it is still t-shirt weather most afternoons, but that is okay. Early is comforting. Being late last year, amidst all the unknowns, was not.

The night before the install I had set out all the tools I expected to use, and dug the tracks out to get things ready.

We did the front tracks first for they are more difficult to install, so let’s climb the largest hill first whilst the energy reserves are highest. Heavy duty jack stands and a three ton jack with an eighteen inch lift were large improvements over last year, as was the air tool to remove the tires.

The rear tracks are larger, heavier, and bulkier and we both pondered how I managed to get them on by myself last year. I surmise cussing. I cussed far more last year than this one. It was also far less stressful for I had my friend helping. We gut laughed many times, queried what we were doing a few times, and obviously blamed the engineers and designers a time or two.

Three hours or so, break and all, and Moon Bug was tracked up. I need to adjust the steering limiters and grease up the tracks, but she is ready for the snow even if my mind is not quite. My soul is truly enjoying the extended Summer feel of the light Fall.

Last year I put the tracks on Moon Bug the first week of November, and it was late. Late as in I sat home waiting for a storm to melt to get all the gear together, and get my truck properly down the mountain for the over winter stretch ahead. Late in the sense my neighbors left the mountain on tracks whilst mine sat idle.

I am putting tracks on earlier this year, today in fact. It feels even earlier due to the milder October we’re having versus last year. In 2020 I got my first 8 inches of heavy wet snow on September 8th and October was cold, heavy, and laden with several snow storms. This year I got the mildest of snow dusting on the last day of September. Comparatively, this October we have had one storm, there are still aspens clinging to their leaves, and yesterday was t-shirt weather before dinner time.

Last year it took me seven hours over the course of two days to put my tracks on. I sat in the bellowing winds both days, struggling, learning, and precariously jacking up Moon Bug with improper gear.

Today I reflect upon last year, and I am far better prepared. A large floor jack will lift one end of Moon Bug in twenty seconds instead of layered jacking. I have air tools to remove tire and install track lugs. I have the experience of having done this before, both installing last Fall and removing this Spring.

Compared to my two day adventure last year? I expect it to go smoothly today. I have had three separate offers from friends to help me install them. I am taking one friend up on that offer today, and now? It will still be work, but I have help, company, and will have great conversations during the work. A small self reflection, but compared to a year ago, this is another good aspect of the changes the ranch can proffer a man.

The winds have returned to our little corner of the world. It is only my second Fall transition in this magical place, but the pattern has returned. Most of the Summer had moments of wind, but not like the Fall and Winter winds. Bone rattling, feet lifting, furniture moving, step ladder relocating winds. It is a sight and feeling that is still a bit new to me, but a challenge to prepare and plan for. Empty buckets or bins? Plan to descend the ridge behind the house and go hunting.

I am unsure of the speeds we reached overnight, but it was enough to waken me at one point, merely for the sounds. Up for an hour now with coffee and music, a full moon makes it easy to read the trees and see the motions, the level of violence the wind is creating.

I can happily report the house is more stable than it’s ever been. The three eighths inch thick steel plates are strong, long and tying eight logs together with thirty two three inch heavy duty lag screws. A man of technology not structural engineering, I do not know why the second window broke, but my confidence is greater heading into winter with the updates made thus far. Finding workers here is tough on short notice, so stabilization for the Winter, and finding an engineer over same to get the house inspected next Spring is the plan, unless I get lucky and find someone between gigs.

For reference, below is all that was left of my nine inch D-log under the windows. More stable than it was with this versus my new D-log, and sans steel plates? I can only hope it is more stable!