Friends

Gun Deal

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“Nowadays the shooter who has passed his physical zenith has a double
inducement for handing in his 30″ barrelled, full- weight, old thoroughbred, and going in for something lighter and faster- handling but in no significant degree inferior, ballistically. These old thoroughbreds are now fetching high prices– much more, in many cases, than they cost… True, the new gun may not be a best English side- lock, with all the refinements of the old, but it can be a thoroughly sound English box- lock…Meanwhile, the old thoroughbred could find a new, and perhaps younger, owner, and one better qualified to derive full pleasure from it”.

(From Gough Thomas, his Gun Book, back in 1969)

My 1879 Stephen Grant was definitely the best (Best) gun I have or likely will ever own, but its seven pound plus weight had made it nearly impossible to carry in our rough terrain.

Last year I had more jokingly than not discussed trading one of my other guns for Andrew’s unique 20 bore when he visited with his dogs.

Though it was a theoretically “lesser” gun with plain surfaces and an obscure provincial name, it was obviously of good quality and had many bespoke traits– striking wood with a lot of cast off but no toe out like a ladies gun (good for my broad face), unusual chokes (IC and bigger- than- bore “bell” for you tecchies), and five pound weight with no metal missing– I believe it last passed proof in 2002. Its most remarkable trait was its 30″ barrels; despite its light weight it swung smoothly. Though the highest quality Spanish makers are now making similar guns, it is the only vintage* smallbore I have seen with STEEL 30- inchers, though I have seen a few Damascus examples.

Andrew offered back that he would consider the Grant and we both laughed, but when my Parkinson’s diagnosis suggested a very light gun I wrote to him– he really had the only strong candidate, and by pure luck I didn’t really have a lot of money in the Grant. In the end we put together a “proposal” with ammo, a case, tools, and more including some surprises from him and a Hungarian Mongol bow and more ammo from me, and made the deal. It is the perfect example of the quote above. Andrew’s gunsmith has revealed that my intuitions are right– the Grant is in nearly incredible condition, safe for modern ammo (knew that– have shot it for years), and never had the barrels honed out or thinned. While with the slip- on leather pad he provided the “Sidley” fits me perfectly (I’ll have a leather covered recoil pad installed after the season). I should add that all my shots are at close range.

He also sent me a CD of interior photos of the Grant including its Brazier locks— a possible paying article there! So Andrew gets a London gun at an age I never could– and I? Well, Johnny UK wrote me after I mailed its specs that it was doubtless made for an opinionated older man past his greatest strength but still enthusiastic, with good taste and a limited budget. I rest my case.

*Apparently– thanks to gun scholar Doug Tate– it is a W & C Scott (good) action, possibly made in the thirties but left “in the white” and finished in the fifties.

Visitors

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Tom Russell would be too modest to say so but he might just be the best and most lasting singer- songwriter of my generation; while some annoyingly typecast him as a western or cowboy or border balladeer he is in all ways an American bard, a living link between cowboys and the beats and all manner of chroniclers and historians and poets of the “Old Weird America.”

He blew through town last week with his wife and Swiss father- in- law for a flying visit, posole and green chile, and intense conversation. We had fun (and I think “Poppi” was relieved that we ate cheese and drank wine in addition to chile, vodka, and maybe frozen quail). I’ll refer you to Tom’s vivid and flattering account at his indispensable blog. More to come I’m sure!

Rebecca O’Connor (buy her book!) came through too, with falcons and Brittany, to do some research and decide what rifle the heroine of her novel- in progress should carry through a post- apocalyptic but “re- wilded” landscape of the future. She had never shot so much as a .22 before, but with enthusiasm and only a hint of trepidation tried a Winchester .30- 30, a Mauser 7 X 57, and an SKS. Any guesses as to which she chose? She will be writing about it and sending photos– again, more to come.

New Bird

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After all the hints, he’s here– my “shotgun range” falcon! Yesterday we drove down to Bill Meeker’s breeding facility east of El Paso (and general animal friendly house– Ataika nearly went nuts trying to get to know –I hope only that!– their totally intact skunk through the bedroom door) to pick up a chamber raised tiercel Red headed falcon of the sub- Saharan race. He is only two days out of the chamber, hoods well, eats on the fist,and bites like a dog. I love him.

Pix are mostly self explanatory–will get more later in the week. 500 miles in a day brings out every bad symptom of my every condition, but we had fun with Bill and Becky, and the bird is PERFECT.

And a couple of Becky with Taik and her koi tank just for fun…

Cepe Success!

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The ‘shrooms have arrived or, as Peculiar wrote, channeling Chaucer (“…had he lived in the Southern Rockies and been more interested in fungi than relics”):

“Whan that August with his shoures soote
the droghte of June hath perced to the roote,
and bathed every veyne in swich parfoum
of which vertu engendred is the shroum….

“…thanne longen southwestryn folk to goon on pilgrimages.”

Mike and A. , Chas and Ms. M, and other southwestern foragers are searching and blogging (and eating!) too.

I had nearly given up– our rains have been intermittently heavy enough to threaten our roof and ceiling but we had seen no king boletes, nor the two “phenological” indicators that seem to predict good crops of the King: spadefoot toads (which need warmth, four days plus steady rain, and thunder), on this level; and in the mountains, the brilliant red- with- white- speckles, “entheogenic” (thanks to Chas for that term, which my computer does not like) but toxic Amanita muscaria.

But today, on the verge of giving up, we hit the jackpot. I emailed some of my fellow mycophiles:

“Our rather intermittent rains, though threatening to bring down the ceiling, hadn’t produced any boletes yet, but today we went to the San Mateos and found, not the biggest crop we have ever seen but a full season’s harvest, ie enough to fill a 5 gallon jar after drying and enough to throw handfuls into any stew or risotto through the winter (in the best years we get TWO winters’ worth!)

“The whole bunch is in the first photo. If that doesn’t look like enough to those of you who haven’t hunted them with us, look at the Maglite and Opinel knife for scale [Click to as they say “embiggen”]. Though relatively few, they were all of exceptional quality this year, too, well- shaped and dense.”

We may find more yet but at least the season is saved! Of course we will keep looking…

(BTW sorry for slow posting lately– many photos coming plus other posts & links, but read between the lines and you will see BUSY…)

Oh and– Mike, I agree re Satan’s bolete. And we now have most flat surfaces looking like yours, covered with slices…

Doggie Disaster and bleg

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Yesterday we took the dogs out to the Indian ruin today for a run — all of them (except Lily, the ancient dachshund) together. They were so excited to be out. Before we even got down the hill to the arroyo we heard one of the dogs screaming in pain. We ran over and there was Irbis, lying down with an obviously broken leg…it was dangling from the rest of his leg, and he was bleeding where the bone had come through the skin. Best we can figure is that he stepped in an animal hole and it snapped like a stick. We carried him, screaming in pain, back to the car, rounded all the others up, and called our vet, who was not there, nor were the other Socorro vets (of course it’s the Sunday after Christmas). We went up to the emergency vet in Los Lunas, where they took two xRays, had us wait a long time, and told us that his leg was badly broken and might have to be amputated; they don’t do orthopedic procedures there, so we then (after they charged us $317 for doing practically nothing) went up to an Albuquerque clinic that is open all the time and where we know two of the vets through falconry. Ray looked at the xrays and told us that he thought he could pin or plate it together if there was no nerve damage; if the nerves are too damaged he thought it would be best to amputate it.

They presented us with an estimate of $2200 and said we would have to give them a deposit for $600 before they would even look at him further; and that the balance would be due when we pick him up on Tuesday. Luckily son Jackson and his wife Niki were with us, and they put the deposit on their emergency credit card. But we have to get the rest together. Libby’s 92 year old mother, who is in a nursing home, is going to see what she can do on such short notice — we don’t think her money is terribly liquid.


We’re feeling very depressed at the moment — we can hardly bear the thought of his losing a leg, especially as he’s just 11 months old. So we’re asking you, our friends, if you can help in any way, even with a small amount — they add up quickly. If you want to contribute, the best thing would be to call the vet’s office with a credit or debit card number — they expect to be paid IN FULL by Tuesday afternoon when we go to pick him up after his surgery. We need at least $1700(we have come up with loans of $800) to get him out, and need to repay Jackson and Niki, though they are infinitely patient. The phone number at Petroglyph Vet Clinic is 505-898-8874 — they’re a 24 hour operation. Ray Hudgell is the vet and the account number for Irbis is 4116.

I’ll be glad when this year is over! Meanwhile investigating pet insurance — this can’t happen again.

UPDATE: WE have reached our goal– thanks to all. Now we just pray there are no complications!

UPDATE 2: He is home after an exhausting day, & seems pretty good considering. He can walk to pee (though as yet hasn’t). There is no cast at all– just stitches. The plate is inside, and he has to wear an “Elizabethan” collar which he hates to keep him from biting them. But it makes it easy to observe the wound clearly.

The vets desk didn’t take down all the names who contributed so please if I miss anyone in the coming days let me know ( I will not rave on the stupidity of front desks— yet). We probably have enough credit to cover the next (3) visits.

We have amazing friends– I cannot say enough thanks, but will try.