POACHER . . .

Sigi, took off with his dog and a 7X57 Mauser op[en sighted rifle looking to find out who was walking along one of his internal fence lines.  From on top of the mountain Dax and Sigi had seen a man, in a royal blue jump suit -- kind of like a uniform, was walking along the fence line where our big trophy bull kudu was supposed to be.  Sigi went down to the fence line and tried to track the blue suit man out.  Sigi found tracks where he had walked.  He found worse, much worse. Sigi found a large lion trap set in a "climb under" spot on the game fence and two large wire loops that were installed as snares on a cattle/game trail.  Sigi had a problem.  There was a poacher working his farm for game and/or cattle.  Sigi saw the lion trap was set with big jaws open in the trail then one sheet of newspaper over it and a light dusting with native red sand to hide it.  The trap was chained to a tree for when an animal stepped in it to immobilize the prey.  Sigi picked up the trap and the snares.  He then saw a hunting type dog a distance down the fence line.  Sigi's dog went into the alert mode.  Sigi knew the strange dog was from the poacher and was to run game into the snares.  Sigi threw his Mauser up to his shoulder and killed the dog with a single shot.  He was transporting the trap and snares down the fence line and discovered another place where a trap had been placed.  The newspaper was there but the trap had been dragged off with the chain that secured it.  Sigi was really really unhappy to see this.

typical lion trap

Sigi called the police.  The police came to Farm Garib at 2 p.m.  Then they let with Sigi to look at the situation.  They found where the trap had pulled loose from the fastening spot and they tracked the dragged trap and chain up the mountain for awhile. The found a juvenile oryx dragging the trap on his foot.  Sigi shot the poor crippled animal.  The two police and Sigi brought the oryx to the road and salvaged the meat.  The police found boot tracks as Sigi had.  They documented them and then went to the local private school and asked to talk to one of the male employees.  He had the same boots on as the documented tracks.  He denied any involvement in the poaching.  The police then took the director of the school aside and told her that she is responsible for the actions of the employees of the school.  She would be detained and taken to the capital city for further investigation next time there are any poaching activities on the adjoining farms.  Sigi explained to us later that an oryx might yield 300 pounds of easy meat and that could be sold in the farmers type markets for over $2 per pound.  The oryx could bring an easy $600 for a local poacher.  Daily mandated wages for farm workers in Namibia are $8 per day.  So a $600 oryx would be easy money and almost 3 months wages for honest working.  I personally have never been that close to a poacher nor his methods before, that I know of.  I was educated and appalled at the same time.

Later that evening a farmer called and asked why Sigi felt justified in shooting his dog.  It was his best hunting dog and was valued like a cow to him.  Sigi told him the dog was way off where he should have been and was causing trouble with both Sigi's hunting operations and his cattle business.  I can't believe the guy calling Sigi like that?  Perhaps the caller didn't know the guilty party was using his dog to poach?  Perhaps he didn't want Sigi to think he had anything to do with the poaching.  The man in the blue jump suit was on someone's payroll, who was actually in charge of the poaching anyway?  Lots of questions, one less oryx and dog that we know of, and no big bull kudu -- CRAP.

HERE KUDU, KUDU, KUDU, here kudu, kudu, kudu . . .

Saturday 2 July 2016

Up at 6:15 a.m. -- breakfast at 7 a.m. -- scrambled eggs, 5 pound bread, banana, jelly -- let's go hunting!

Out to hunt at sunrise, and it is beautiful out today.  Clear skies, few if any clouds, and wonderful cool air.  No pollution, no noise other than that what we make.   Namibia in the bush is a unique and marvelous place.  We are headed out to the location we were at last evening when we saw a dozen springbok, 3-4 oryx, and about 5 blue wildebeest in a small valley.  We drive to the same hill as yesterday and park in the same flat spot.  We hike ever so slowly and silently up the rocky slopes to the top of torture rocks mountain to look out over the "valley of death".  We see game as soon as we arrive on the top of the hill.  Dax and Sigi are after a BIG kudu bull today.  We see some kudu cows and calves.  We see some oryx, some springbok, and way out there in the veld are some blue wildebeest.  Yeah, Dax wants a blue wildebeest and Sigi has about 5 grazing in a small meadow about 1.5 kilometers away.  I stay in place to guide them with hand signals while they drop off the hillside and into the 10 foot tall bushed up veld.  They can walk to where the blue wildebeest are grazing and if they get confused or the wildebeest move I am in place to watch the game and give the hunters signals as to which way to go to intersect the wildebeest.

Sigi, the PH, and Dax work their way into the veld with hardly any sound and the wind is coming from the wildebeest to them so all is right for a stalk.  As the hunters get closer to the game I loose sight of them even with my 10X40 binoculars.  They have dropped down to crawl the last 200 to 300 yards and really sneak up on the wary wildebeest.  I am waiting and watching the wildebeest still grazing in the small meadow for what seems like a very long time finally I hear a shot.  A single shot and the sound of a bullet smacking meat.  I know someone just made a great shot.  I am sure it is Dax and he has never taken a wildebeest before so I am glad for him.  The wildebeest run away from me and the hunters direction. I don't see any of them limping or any lagging behind.  Could Dax have missed?  No more shots and I still can't see the PH and my son.  I decided to hike down to them and see the prize.  I have marked my GPS with the location of the truck and if I get disoriented I will just walk back to the truck.

Once off the hill I am totally disoriented.  I don't really know where Dax and the Sigi, the PH, are in the tall brush of the veld.  I just kind of go on instinct and head toward the meadow I remembered seeing for so long with wildebeest grazing.  I walk for what seems like a long way and can't seem to encounter the meadow. I yell loudly my son's name with no response.  I turn to the right as maybe I have veered off course or walked too far.  I walk another ways and yell again without response and then decide CRAP-O-RAMA, I am lost.  Everything, every direction, seems to look just the same here submerged in the veld.  I can see above me about 1.5 kilometers away the hill I was watching from but really the various landmarks visible from the hill top are gone to me now standing among them.  I take out my GPS and start to walk back to the truck.  I come up with an idea -- I will shoot a shot and they will yell or come to me to see if I have something down.  I pick out a large tree about 50 yards away and take aim.  I shoot a .338 Win. Mag. round into the smallest knot hole in the tree trunk and paralyze the tree instantly.  {I wonder what the trophy fee is for an acacia tree?}  Just as hoped Dax came to see me within 1 or 2 minutes and asked what I was shooting at.  I told him I shot a tree and need to be un-lost.  We walked together to where his wildebeest was down and took some photos.  It was a nice one.  Dax had done his usual great job and harvested it with just one round.  He is a good shot at which I kind of am ticked.  Dax doesn't practice shooting hardly at all and is really a good shot.  I practice lots and try to be a good shot but end up occasionally providing "warning shots" as I did last evening at the springbok.  {Sorry, I am off subject.}  Dax took a nice wildebeest and the picture is below. 

location 23º12.597' S 17º38.436' E

Sigi wants to get the wildebeest off his farm by hunting them as they can share diseases with his cattle.  Due to the disease sharing possibility situation he has to have additional health testing done on his cattle when they go to market.  It is easier to just take the 5 or 6 wildebeest off the farm and avoid the expense and hassle of additional testing, not to mention the possibility of actually getting the cattle infected with a disease from the wildebeest.

Sigi sets to harassing me about the shot I took to get un-lost.  I told him I had never taken an acacia tree and wanted to put one down.  I explained how I had paralyzed it with one shot and he congratulated me and offered me a stick for my hat to  show I was a successful hunter.  Of course Dax already had his bloody stick in his hat as he was indeed a Waidmannshiel hunter.  Sigi is really a great person and so fun to hunt with.  Sigi had asked Dax if I ever got lost when hunting.  Dax answered truthfully "yes, a little sometimes." {You can look up my other documented lost incident in my blog post in December 2008 when I lost my whole pickup truck in Wyoming while pronghorn hunting.}

We load the wildebeest and head back to the farm house.  In route we see a very large trophy kudu bull on a hillside.  We drive considerably away from the kudu bull and then stop the truck.  Sigi thinks we can go after the trophy bull from our location and he won't expect us.  We will have to hike up on a small mountain then ridge-line for about a kilometer back towards his location but we should be above the kudu we are after and we will be able to get a shot at him.  Tobis, the tracker takes the truck and heads to the farm to process the wildebeest meat.  We set out up the mountain.  I am old and not in good physical shape both from laziness and from recent treatments of chemo-therapy and radiation-therapy.  Dax and Sigi are 37 years old and seem to be jogging up the small mountain we are on.  I tell them to go ahead and I will stay low and try to catch up as I am able.  I promise to not get lost, and I will go to where we got off the truck with my GPS mark if I get close to being disoriented and I will not scare the kudu away.  I have already "limited out" on acacia trees today.  I gradually make my way up the mountain.  I am on top but can't see Dax or Sigi.  I walk the ridge-line to the east and glass a valley below.  I see springbok, and oryx.  No kudu.  I decide to walk to the west and start on the ridge-line to the west.  I hear a shot.  I hear another shot.  Both sound like they hit meat with that tell tale splat sound.  I continue to the west and then see Sigi standing on a crest of the mountain west of me.  I hurry over and he tells me Dax has an oryx down, supposedly, and there is a poacher on his farm he is going after.  I am to go help Dax find the oryx he has down and wait for Sigi or Tobis to come pick it up.  Sigi takes off.  Dax and I meet just under the cusp of the top of the small mountain.  He shows me the brush area where the oryx is supposedly down.  We start the decent looking for oryx and that big kudu bull if possible.  We get down on the valley floor and Dax tells me the oryx was at 309 yards from his shooting position.  A do-able shot.  We look around and I find the oryx laying behind a large bush.  I call to Dax and he comes over.  It is very dead.  We congratulate each other lots.  We set it up for some photos and I take them for Dax.

location 23º12.903' S 17º36.439' E 

While moving the oryx around for the photos we see the bullet lump from one of the shots is just under the skin on the far side.  Dax borrows my knife and cuts if free.  The bullet comes out as another perfect Barnes .338" caliber 225 grain Tipped Triple Shock four petal mushroom.  Later in the day we show it to Sigi and he tells us rather PH-philosophically, "Germans make the best guns but Americans make the best bullets."  {I think our Rugers are pretty darn good guns too!}

SPRINGBOK 2016

Friday 1 July 2016

Up at 6:00 a.m. today. Dressed and ready for adventure.  Breakfast at 7 a.m. was typical Farm Garib hunting breakfast -- scrambled eggs, bacon, 5 pound bread*, banana, apple, were all very good.  We went first to the rifle range to check the zero on our rifles.  We had just traveled 8 - 9,000 miles and who knows where our scopes would put our shots fired.  Dax shot first and his rifle was more or less right where it had been on the other side of the world.  I shot and my rifle and the scope needed to be moved down 2 clicks (1/2 inch).  My point of impact at 100 yards is about 2" high.  That puts me right on at 200 yards and only 8" low at 300 yards.  We are off . . .

We drove around and saw some but not lots of game.  We got down from the truck and went on a springbok stalk for about 2 - 3 kilometers.  The springbok kept moving and hiding among the bushes so we could not get a shot.  There were also dozens of hartebeest intermingled in the area watching and counter moving on us so getting a good shot on a springbok was tough.  There were too many game eyes and noses around for us to get in close.  Sigi, the PH, and I went after a "management" (meat) springbok stalking.  We kept behind some big bushes (almost 6' tall) for some distance, like 400 yards, and finally arrived within 200 +/- yards of a springbok ram that thought he was a great lover.  He had a harem of about 6 ewes with him and was in the process of romancing all of them at the same time.  I looked through the scope on 9X and he had layered horns denoting age but the horns were not so wide, not "gold metal trophy" grade.  Sigi, said he didn't want that particular springbok to leave so many seeds behind in the herd on his farm so I was tasked with harvesting this Romeo.  He was all around the various ewes running back and forth.  He was trying to mount them for breeding and I couldn't get a clear shot for what seemed like a real long time.  Actually it was only about 10 minutes, but when you are poised on the shooting sticks and watching through the scope it is a real long time.  Finally the springbok gave me a front quartering shot and I took it.  He went down on the shot.  I quickly reloaded and waited for him to get back up, but he had expired.  The Barnes 225 gr. .338 caliber bullet traveled from his front shoulder through his entire body and was up against the hide on the rear opposite quarter.  Great performance.  I felt fortunate to have harvested this springbok for meat and also fortunate the bullet was recovered.  We gave the animal his last bite ritual and showed respect to a worthy opponent in the hunt.

location 23º12.903'S 17º36.439' E

We loaded the animal in the truck and took it back to the house for processing.  Later in the week some of this animal would be served for dinner, delicious.  While at the house we had lunch of springbok meatballs, from Sigi's earlier harvest, with gravy, potatoes, green beans, tossed salad, bread, cheese, and lemon pudding for dessert.  Great lunch.  We went back to our rooms for a "medio dia" nap and returned at 2:30 p.m. for afternoon coffee and cakes.  While we were having coffee (diet coke) two of Sigi's friends came over to say hi.  There were Ronnie and Herman.  They were old friends of  Sigi. Ronnie was also a P.H.  Herman was a famous soccer player in Namibia.  Sigi later told us Ronnie had trained Sigi some at the first of his career and had helped him lots with where Sigi is today.  Cool!

At 3:00 p.m. we drove out to hunt parking at the base of a hill that offered a view in all 360º of the veld from on top.   The hill was very rocky and hiking up was slow and deliberate.  We saw from the hill top warthogs, oryx, and springbok.  We noticed one of the oryx was a big bull.  We watched as the oryx grazed from 399 to eventually 310 yards.  Only problem being the bull oryx didn't get close only two females.  There were springbok intermingled with the oryx.  Sigi saw a nice trophy ram in the group of springbok.  We waited and watched with lots of patience.  The springbok were headed in our direction.  We were on a hill top about 150 yards higher up than them on the veld floor.  The sun was starting to set and the darkness comes quick in Namibia at this time of year.  I was laying on the rocky hill top and in a position that a person could consider as painful.  If I had not been hunting and just working I am sure my feeling would be classified as pain.  I had cut my finger on the rocks and was bleeding some.  When I adjusted my scope I left a blood trail on the eye bell.  I was waiting for Sigi to give me the OK to shoot the big trophy springbok.  We watched until he gave us a broadside view and Sigi told me to take him.  I had lazered the range at 222 yards so I held right on his shoulder and pressed the trigger while in sudo-pain.  The rifle went off and the springbok jumped and ran to the south some.  I had missed ???  I call it a warning shot.  I reloaded and fired again this time anchoring the animal.  I had an illuminated red dot in my Leupold VXR scope and it really helped in this particular low light shooting situation.  We hiked down the hill to the animal and gave him his last bite rites and took some photos.  He was a good one.  Later, we found out he was considered a gold medal springbok.  I was very pleased with my all springbok day in Namibia.  Dax had not fired a shot at an animal and I felt badly for him.  He was there to hunt too.  We had been waiting for the oryx bull to come in for Dax a shot but the springbok ram was the only game that came into range.  I am thankful.

location 23º12.748'S 17º38.104'E

Sigi told Tobis, our tracker, to go get the truck and we would take some photos.  I thanked Sigi for his patience with me.  We drove to the house and delivered the animal to the crew for processing.  Dinner was Farm Garib style with thin sliced lunch meats, cheeses, good bread, bisque of springbok, pickled peppers, and water to drink.  We sat around an outdoor fire and Sigi's little boys, Janne and Xander, entertained us with their antics.  Oh, to be 3 1/2 and 2 years old again. . .

It has been a long and fruitful day.  Tomorrow will be even better I bet, I am off to shower and to bed.  6:00 a.m. will come real soon for me an older man.

*5 pound bread is full of seeds and whole grains.  It is sliced real thin and is wonderful.  It is dense and heavy so I named it 5 pound bread because a standard sized loaf could weigh 5 pounds.

Barnes .338" 225 gr. bullet post springbok

HUNTING NAMIBIA 2016

It all started last summer, 2015.  In April 2015 I was diagnosed with cancer under the skin on my head and left neck.  I had to undergo surgeries on three different occasions then chemotherapy and radiation therapy.  Needless to say I was a rather sick puppy from April 2015 to about February 2016.  I lost about 35 pounds total during the ordeal.  Not that I couldn't have used some lightening up, but loosing weight via surgery (cutting off flesh) then chemo and radiation is not pleasant.  {Next time I need to loose weight I am going to hire a real cute female personal trainer and join a gym.}  All the weeks I was vomiting in my darkened room in the basement I was thinking about my happy place.  We all have one.  Mine is on Farm Garib in Namibia hunting plains game with my dear friends the Leuhls.  I promised myself if I survived this treatment and the disease I would go hunting again across the sea.

February 2016 came around and I was actually feeling some better.  I was thankful to the Lord I might be on the mend.  My PET scan had shown no identifiable cancer and I was able to eat and drink a little.  I went on the internet and started looking for air tickets to Namibia.  I contacted my Namibian friends via e-mail and they said come on over -- late June or early July.  I asked my son, Dax, if he had time to go with me to hunt for 10 days or so.  Kind of like asking a little kid if he were in the mood for a candy bar but still I ask.  Dax had some comp. time and some vacation saved up so we were a pair to go.  I got the tickets on South African Airlines with USA connections via Jet Blue and Virgin Air.  South African is a top notch firm and Jet Blue -- blaah and Virgin Air -- sucks.  Next time I won't use Virgin Air.

Wed. 29 June 2016 Dax and I rode the Salt Lake Express shuttle to the Las Vegas Airport, boarding at 6 p.m.  The shuttle ride was nice and comfortable.  We checked in for our flights.  We left Las Vegas at midnight.  We traveled through the night to NYC and JFK then on to Johannesburg and finally to Windhoek arriving at around 11:00 a.m. on Thurs. 30 June 2016.  We had been on the airplane for a seemingly very long time.  Waiting at the airport for us was my brother from another mother, Hans Peter Leuhl.  What a friendly face and such a fun guy to meet us at the end of a long and exhausting trip.  We loaded up in his SUV and went over to his home to see his better half.  Frauke, is a first rate person and has been a great friend to me for almost 10 years.  It was really fun to be with them in their home again.  They traveled to my home in 2014 to visit and it was my turn to visit them  What a fun time we were going to have for 10 days or so. 

Peter and Frauke are kind of retired from farming and hunting so they live in town.  We drove out from town to the farm to start the hunting adventure.  We arrived on Farm Garib at about 5 p.m.  {Look at Google Earth to see the area with lat. and long. as:    23º08.078'S  17º37.976'E}

Our Professional Hunter, PH, Sigurd Hess, Sigi, was waiting in the drive when we pulled up.  It was nice to see him again.  He has helped me hunt before and is really a super nice fellow and great PH.  He constantly is cracking jokes and speaks 4 or 5 languages equally well.  He is quite a guy.  Not to mention he is 37 years old and really hyper -- like a teenager.  He always has energy to go out and do what needs to be done.  He is the kind of guy I like to have around to take care of my old weary bones.  I am not that tough any more.  I kind of get tired and can't see or hear as well as I used to.  Sigi, takes my failings into account when he helps me hunt, I really can't commend him enough.  He is fun, fair, and professional  --  what else is there in a PH or friend for that matter.  Did I mention he has an educated, hardworking, nice, and beautiful wife and two great sons?

Sigi the cook, Sigi on the upper P/U rack scouting, Sigi amigo

The stage is set.  The characters are all present.  The game is waiting for us to come find them.  I can hardly wait until tomorrow to start the adventure I have been thinking about for so many months.  We are given a real nice dinner of oryx steaks, gravy, pasta, tossed salad, cheese, superb bread, and sodas.  The food is so good at Farm Garib I think a significant percentage of why I keep going back is the food.  Evelyn is the cook when there are hunters on the farm.  She remembers me and gives me a sincere hug.  She is just like so many people in Namibia and especially on Farm Garib -- really friendly and pleasant to be around. We eat well and get to bed.  Tomorrow we go hunting!

BIG TRIP TO NAMIBIA

Just back from a BIG trip to Namibia hunting. I still have jet-lag to degree but it hurts so good. Kind of a pre-view type photo for up coming posts.

High Ho, High Ho, . . It's Off to Chizzle I Go ! !

I disappeared out of work a few hours on Monday afternoon and went to meet with the Southern California contingent of Chizzler Hunters Anonymous.  We got together on the western edge of a circular and proceeded to mow down some crop stealers in wholesale fashion.  Bill and Brad are find shots and seem to know the ropes in chizzler reaping.  Basically, the idea is to 1.  Take no prisoners, and 2. Try for doubles to conserve ammunition when possible.  Here is a photo of the fine chaps from Shamu Town.

Preparing to reap.

88 yards from the squirrel-o-matic

MR. BOB ENDS HIS CHIZZLER SEASON

Trying to make it to cover . . .  too late

On Friday, 6-3-2016 I went to Enterprise at 8:10 a.m. to join up with Mr. Bob and go for his last chizzler hunt of the year.  He had to return home within the next 24 hours.   I was hoping this was going to be great event for him and me.  The conditions were more or less perfect for hunting varmints.  The weather was in the mid  to lower 80º's and there was little or no wind.  The sun was out but it wasn't overly hot.  I could feel it was going to be a great day for hunting farmers' profit stealers.   Not to mention -- I had been working all week and as I have said many times: WORK GETS IN THE WAY OF HAVING FUN!

When I arrived in the parking lot of the motel where Mr. Bob stays I was greeted not only by my dear friend Mr. Bob but also there were 5 other fellows there.  The were fine looking chaps about my age and I was pretty sure they were chizzlers hunters as well.  When I exited my truck I announced to them I was from PETA and wanted to take all their names.  The was a round of laughter at my foolishness.  Turns out they were indeed avid chizzler hunters from Southern California.  They had come up for a few days to help the farmers in Iron County eliminate profit eaters and thusly put away a significant pile of chizzlers.  I was glad to meet them and we were brothers in arms almost instantly.  The majority of them were firemen or retired firemen.  I have a "warm" place in my heart for firemen.  Bounty Hunter 6 and Mr. Bob are both firemen.  They risk their lives at work for you and yours and even your property.  They are not paid enough nor given enough respect.  One fellow was a beverage distributor and I am glad to make his acquaintance also.  They were all great guys.  Sorry they had to leave for home so quick.  I would like to have hunted with them this year.  Maybe we can connect next season.  I need to watch their style and learn some new tricks in reaping chizzlers.

Mr. Bob and I went to a new circular pivot spot and set up the Reaper Trailer.  We got into the squirrel-o-matics at around 8:35 a.m. and the rodent targets came out for their morning constitutionals.  Mr. Bob and I started to deny them their "constitutional rights" and administer to them "last rites."  I shot as fast as I dared always concentrating on breathing, trigger control, sight alignment, and follow through.  I was counting hits out loud as was Mr. Bob for the first while.  I racked up 46 hits out of my first 50 shots.  Not that my shooting was extra special, just the targets were slow moving, pausing lots allowing for my dead-rest target hold, and really not that far away.  I actually took 5+ chizzlers with my .22 handgun.  They were so close I could shoot them over open iron sights with my almost legally blind eyes, like 5 to 9 yards out from the Reaper Trailer.

Most of the brass fired

I only talked to Mr. Bob while we loaded magazines.  I was amazed at how many chizzlers there were in the small section of the circular we were hunting.  There was actually almost no alfalfa growing in the area as it had all been eaten by the chizzlers.  Mr. Bob and I agreed we had never had shooting like this before.  The Reaper Trailer with the squirrel-o-matics on top makes for a super platform to see and shoot from.  I calculate we were firing from a height of about 8 feet above the ground.  We had a distinct advantage as to visibility and angle of pursuit.  I have shot 1,000's of chizzlers from the bed of my pickup truck using a squirrel-o-matic over the years but the extra 4 feet of elevation afforded by the Reaper Trailer is perfect.  We shot and loaded magazines and shot some more.  We were taking down hundreds of chizzlers and more just kept coming.  Bounty Hunter 6 has told me about situations like this he has enjoyed but I had never experienced one for my self.  It was amazing.  I fired over 500 rounds in the 3.5 hours we were hunting.  Think about loading magazines, firing through a bolt action and using over 500 rounds in 3.5 hours.  It was quick and it was terminal for hundreds of chizzlers. 

Head shot while trying to peak out

Camp fire meeting, notice no alfalfa

I was shooting a .22 LR and Mr. Bob was shooting a .17HMR.  We both use Savage rifles.  Mine is a Mark II heavy barrel with a Burris 4.5-14X 42mm scope.  Mr. Bob shoots a Savage M93 stainless in .17 HMR with a Leupold VX-2 3-9X 40mm scope.  I like the Burris scope as it has stadia lines on the vertical crosshair for different distances.  The rifle is sighted in to hit dead center at 50 yards.  The first stadia line is for 75 yards, the second one for 100 yards, and the third is for 125 yards.  The scope works well for me.  The rifle is accurate and if I do my part the mechanism is exact.  When I miss I know where the fault lies, and it is not with glass or steel.

Mr. Bob is gone home for now.  Bounty Hunter 6 is fighting fire in Alaska. I am here by myself and accompanied only by those who can steal some time to help the agriculturalists in Iron County.  It is a tough job but someone has to do it.  I volunteer.