a weblog sharing info on outdoor skills and campfire musing by a guy who spends a bunch of time in pursuit of both
CULTURE
WHERE -
TALES ARE TOLD OF
Welcome to Roland Cheek's Weblog
Roland is a gifted writer with a knack for clarifying reality. Looking forward to more of his wisdom
- Carl Hanner e-mail
Lee M. Talbot wrote -- Until recently, most people believed that effective wildlife conservation consisted primarily of protecting animals against wanton killing or capture. And they were right -- at least in part. Since man first appeared on earth, he has driven a number of species to extinction. But all the armies in the world cannot save an animal if it has no place to live, no place to hide, no food to eat. in the years to come, even more so than in the past, the most critical threat to wild animals will not be direct physical assault by man, but rather his destruction of their habitat . . . it is far more difficult to sell the idea of preserving habitat . . . But let's start at the beginning.
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Tip o' the Day
In my mind, kids and colts make a poor combination. Sure, colts are cute and kids are cute. Why shouldn't they grow up together? Johnny or Susy can learn to ride at the same time Ginger learns to be ridden -- right?
Nope. That cute and cuddly colt will grow up much more swiftly than Susy or Johnny. Instead of a cute and cuddly colt, Ginger soon becomes pushy and demanding and spirited and so dangerous that the kids wind up fearing all horses. In my considerable experience, "kid spoiled" horses are to be avoided like the plague -- most especially by kids.
Youngsters should always be started on older horses. Chances are good older experienced horses have rounded a trail bend and came eyeball to eyeball with a grazing bear. Or kicked over a hornet nest. Or stumbled from a hillside trail after dark. Or had kitchenware shake loose inside a packbox they carried. or suffered a saddle that rolled beneath their belly during an impromptu shuffle. An animal with that kind of experience isn't like to injure your child.
It's a rare pony I'd trust with guests until that pony was eight or ten, and had some backcountry trail experience. I would never hesitate to buy a 16- or 18-year-old horse for my grandkids; especially one who acts eager and is plumb gentle.
Most people fail to realize that a 16-year-old horse still has many good years left, provided he's used properly. Such a pony can have upwards of ten to fifteen good years left. Let's say Susy or Johnny is six or eight years old. Do the math! They'll be on their way to college by the time their beloved horse passes over the Great Divide.
Meanwhile they've learned to ride, learned to love animals, and learned responsibilty for a creature they love.
Older horses together with younger kids ae win-win in every respect, perhaps even more so for moms and dads who need not get ulcers every time Susy goes to the corral with sugar cubes in her pocket.
I know lots of kids who started with an older pony, then graduated to something more spirited after they learned how to handle horses. Then is the time for them to start a colt.
A 13- or 14-year-old young man or young woman with prior horse experience will be able to raise and train that colt to perfection. But they'll only succeed if they've, in turn, been raised to perfection by an honorable older horse who loves being pampered by their young friend.
My all-time favorite saddlehorse Buck, whom I wish someday to present in a book that will sell millions of copies to readers of this weblog, wanted nothing to do with retirement at age 25. Instead, the big pony kept trying to crowd into the stock truck as I began loading stock for a wilderness trip. I finally gave up and allowed him to go.
Buck was 29 when Jane and I sold the outfitting business in 1990. You could say Buck and I retired together. He lived three more years.
PALEFACE WEAPONRY
According to presently accepted verity uncovered in some obscure gorge amid Arica's Great Rift Valley, man's first-chosen hunting weapon was the thigh bone of an antelope. Apparently the club was grasped firmly in both hands and used to bash another antelope for a new day's supply of vittles -- and to obtain another thigh-bone club to arm Cousin Glob.
How this ingenious, head-bashing, two-legged primitive was able to run down an antelope is still an unsolved mystery, but we'll have to take it on trust that he did since there are bashed-in antelope skull scattered in the prehistoric man's dwelling -- along with several antelope thigh bones whose business ends fit perfectly into in-house antelope skull indentations. Available history is yet scanty about how long the upward curve of civilization ascended before our weapons-wielding ancestor began bashing surrounding human skulls, but I'd guess not too many moons never passed overhead before an arms race took place between cave complexes.
How long you reckon it was after the prmitive's thigh bone discovery before he began chunking rocks at antelope he couldn't catch? Then throwing sticks with pointy ends? Slings naturally followed, then tiny spears launched by a sinew cord strung between the ends of a bent branch. Soon an ingenious primitive learned better results could be had by utilizing a hardened point attached to his spear or arrow shaft. He first accomplished this objective by fire-hardening projectile points, but not to many generations passed before flint knapping was developed, and expert knappers became revered tribal members. Eventually metal arrowheads were developed, and the crossbow.
Along with advances in both delivery system and the projectiles themselves, the bow and arrow reigned supreme until some maverick oriental learned to get a BANG by mixing potassium nitrate, sulphur and charcoal; then some meddling European came along with an idea to channel the explosion so as to push a projectile at high speed.
As most cynics could expect, gunpowder first came into vogue for battering down castle walls and terrorizing cities. But soon enough man(kind?) learned that smaller versions of cannons could be hand-held and carried by a one man to kill another from an enemy's opposite line.
I'd imagine all would've been well if paleface weaponry had remained as weapons of choice for us to kill each other, but thoughtless folks soon branched out to killing other living things. Eventually weaponry became so refined much of America's wildlife fell before its incessant roar -- until thoughtful folks banded together to impose limited hunting seasons and bag limits.
Still, technology marched on, though much of our latest advances aren't legitimately used for hunting: infra-red sniper scopes, body heat sensors, two-way radio communications, etc. Rifles, rifle scopes, and rifle projectiles were developed that permitted killing shots to be made from one mountain to another mountain in the far distance. Some folks beame so disillusioned with the lack of hunting challenge inherent in using today's sophisticated firearms that they reverted to yesteryear's hunting tools: the bow and arrow.
I go back far enough to remember when archery hunting was in its infancy. At that time, liberal archery seasons were established and Fish & Game Agencies used the few bowhunters of that day to "haze" deer and elk from farmers haystacks and oatfields. Then, few hunters were capable of pulling longbows powerful enough to drive an arrow home against a bull elk. Fewer still were accurate enough to affect wildlife population dynamics.
Technology never limited itself to firearms, however. Today there are fiberglass compound bows with sufficient mechanical gadgetry on the drawing mechanism to permit the bow to be drawn by weaklings. Too, there are sophisticated sighting mechanisms to aid accuracy. Coupled with those developments aid delivery are machined and fluted arrow shafts and scientifically developed arrowheads that are deadly to touch.
And there's a growing cadre of bowhunters taking to the fields and forests.
So where's the problem?
Perhaps there is none. But where does it all end? Today's technologically improved bows, sights, and arrows are approaching the capability of 19th Century firearms. It takes only a portion of the skills and strengths of a longbowman to use today's archery tools to deadly effect.
So what? Nothing . . . except I sometimes ask myself if the technological developments will ever end? I was, am, and always will be a hunter. But I believe the prey should have a chance.
Who knows? I may come back as a bull elk in my next life.
Roland Cheek wrote a syndicated outdoors column (Wild Trails and Tall Tales) for 21 years. The column was carried in 17 daily and weekly newspapers in two states. In addition, he scripted and broadcast a daily radio show (Trails to Outdoor Adventure) that aired on 75 stations from the Atlantic seaboard to the Pacific Ocean. He's also written upwards of 200 magazine articles and 12 fiction and nonfiction books. For more on Roland, visit:
www.rolandcheek.com
Recent Weblogs
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
For more info about these and other Roland Cheek books
There's a bunch of specific info about Roland's books, columns, archives and radio programs. By clicking on the button to the left, one can see Roland's synopsis of each book, read reviews, and even access the first chapter of each of his titles. With Roland's books, there's no reason to buy a "pig in a poke."
for detailed info about each of Roland's books
Read Reviews
Read their first chapters
For interested educators, this weblog is especially applicable for use in history, relationships, and government classes, as well as for journalism students.
Roland, of course, visits schools. For more information on his program alternatives, go to:
NEXT WEEK: MOUNTAIN WEATHER - FEW BETWEENS
www.campfireculture.com
The Phantom Ghost of Harriet Lou is a 352-page book about "the creature" that Roland claims "took me to the wildlife dance." Packed with exciting tales from the years he both hunted elk, and guided others to their lifetime dreams
The best of Roland's 2,700 newspaper columns and radio program scripts. Mostly humor, all personal
Dance On the Wild Side, the story of Roland's & Jane's life together, from childhood sweethearts through five decades of wild adventure!
Two exciting books about the creature Roland says "keeps me dancing."
Learning To Talk Bear is Roland's best selling book, now in its 5th printing. The book describes Roland's own learning experience about the great beasts, profiling several different animals throughout portions of their lives.
Chocolate Legs is an entire book about a single charismatic Glacier National Park grizzly bear who became infamous, with ink spread across Associated Press and the New York Times.
Montana's Bob Marshall Wilderness 9 X 12 Coffee Table book, with 97 full color photos on 80 pages, PLUS 10,000 words of "how-to," "where-to" text about the Wlderness one Chief of the U.S. Forest Service called "The Crown Jewell of Our Wilderness System," and another called "The Flagship of America's Wilderness Fleet." The first book ever published about that splended land God insisted on keeping as his own -- just the same as in 1982, when Roland photographed and wrote the book.
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