Bowhiking

Bowhunting season ended yesterday. No elk, nor deer, hanging in my shop. But I sure enough got my exercise in, which is how every hunting season goes for me.

Here's Mike Baird bugling from above the Imnaha River. He gets a feather in his cap for his bugling skills, which did bring the elk in....we just never got a shot. Also, he gets a feather in his cap because he found a feather and put it in his cap.

Saw this guy when I was tromping through the woods. Which is one reason I like the bowhunting. Get to see things you normally wouldn't.

Wallowa Lake kokanee

This here is up from Wallowa Lake right next to the cabin I've been moving. Right where I dip Bula's water bowl. Wish I could take the stream along with the cabin but I don't have a trailer big enough.


Got some video too that I'll splice up when the splicing's right. That big guy chases off the little guys. Bully.

Log Cabin Rescue Mission

Some people save whales. Others rescue kittens. Me, I can't stand the thought of old log cabins being euthanized.

So this cute little bundle of logs from Wallowa Lake will live on after I finish moving it, replacing some rotten logs...then drawknifing it back down to natural and putting it all back together.

Sounds easy. Probably would be with an energetic crew and a crane. Instead, I have me. A crowbar. Some rope.


I did have Andy Fairchild help yesterday and he knows his stuff, even if he's never moved a cabin before. Neither have I. We managed to not get hurt, the roof and top logs got safely on the trailer and it's coming together nicely....I mean: coming apart nicely.

Here's a cool time capsule message written on one of the logs: Somebody Sprague signing his name, with the date August 11, 1920. I think that says 1920 anyway. '26?


And here's an interior shot. Fireplace will be repurposed into a pile of rocks. There's a limit to what I'm willing to move, and I don't have the same attachment to heavy rocks as I do old log cabins.

Hot chicks in diapers

More photo imagery from the Salmon River last week. In this particular moment that's been captured forever in time, we see the river diapersuit modeled by Elizabeth, Karen and Dionna.

Stunning. Simply stunning.

Constructed of two durable yet elegant personal flotation devices, the PFD diaper ensemble is ideal for floating around gigantic eddies on a hot, hot day while drinking a beer or cocktail that can be stowed by sort of cramming the drink in between the upper part of your life jacket.

Sadly, there's also a men's version. It looks like this:

Not as stunning. It's just not.

The river diaper is strictly for floating. Not pooping. We practice Leave No Trace camping and strictly adhere...to....uhm.....

Is that a piece of corn right there up near the top?

Salmon River landscape ruined by a bikini

I tried to edit out that lady in the picture because she just gets in the way of the hills and pretty sky I was trying to focus on, but, whatever, I guess it'll have to do.

That's Karen, exploring around on a beach in the vicinity of Flynn Creek Rapid on a float last week.

Slicing apples from 40 yards and moving to Sherwood Forest

Before I hear from People for the Ethical Treatment of Apples, let me just say this one was old and wrinkly.


Week before bow season opened, my bow was shooting happy. Then I notice fraying on one of the new cables put on three months ago. Mysterious because I can't figure where the chafe would come from. Off it goes to Floyd the bow mechanic.

New cable and guard, and I expect some tweaking to be necessary, but can't get it sighted in right and finally notice the center serving has unwound and crept up the string on me, migrating the D loop up and out of whack....

I watched every youtube video tutorial there is, tried a new loop setup, learned some new knots, moved every pin and allen screw there is after changing one thing to accommodate another -- then my field points were right on but when I shot a broadhead it was all over the place.

A couple sheets of paper tuning later, backing off the poundage, raising the rest, new spark plugs and an oil change later--it was a great relief to finally get the Martin Panther shooting right and see a chunk of apple fall off from a broadhead at 40 yards.

Take that, fruit.

Update: I guess I have to move to Nottingham now.

I was standing behind the old '67 Buick in the yard, shooting across at the bag and having a chat while slinging some arrows at the same time, not doing a very good job at either activity....but I was consistent enough to hit one arrow with another and Jacey says, "I think you messed up that other arrow."

If by 'mess up' she means getting all Robin Hood and shooting one arrow right down the shaft of the other, then get Friar Tuck on the phone and tell him to get ready because we got some robbing from the rich to do.


I'd feel a lot better about this if it was a bullseye that got duplicated, but, ah, well. I seem to be shooting low, after all that applesauce talk.

Review: Carter Niemeyer 'Wolfer'

Here's my recent Chieftain column with a book suggestion I'd like to see as standard issue for everyone involved in the back and forth of the wolf debate here in the Wallowas.

My review gets reviewed at a coyote, wolf and cougar blog here. It includes the line, "With all due respect to Mr. Rombach...." thanks. Always like it when I'm given all due respect, except, heeeeey....they couple that with "...who states that he was completely without knowledge of Wolves prior to downloading the contents of Wolfer...."

Not completely without knowledge. I know you don't capitalize Wolves in the middle of a sentence like this person, so I got that going for me. Which is nice.

Also, with all due respect, if by 'downloading the content,' they mean I bought a copy of the book like I said, then OK.

Review is below.

And Furthermore

Jon Rombach

I’ve stayed out of the wolf debate up until now because I don’t really know anything about wolves. But it sure doesn’t seem like that’s a requirement for joining the discussion, so I might as well wade in here.

I ordered the book ‘Wolfer’ by Carter Niemeyer after reading a review that described Niemeyer’s career as a government trapper turned wolf specialist, in charge of both introducing and removing wolves, depending on the circumstances. He developed enemies on both sides. Gained allies that started out as foes and had other working relationships start friendly before going south.

Well, that’s the guy I want to hear from. And by page 2, he was already making sense with this line: “Wolves are not all the things people want them to be, good or bad….”

I say this book is worth reading, for this alone: Niemeyer spends a good deal of time walking you through the business of determining whether a cow is dead because of a wolf or not. It’s a crime scene, essentially. And an autopsy. Animals tend to stop living now and then for reasons other than either a wolf or a slaughterhouse bolt. There are telltale signs when a wolf kills another animal, just as somebody who knows what they’re looking at should be able to determine when a wolf was not the cause of death, or has been eating from a carcass that was already dead from disease, previous injury or whatever punched it’s ticket. He relates cases where wolves were in the vicinity and that’s all the evidence some folks needed—despite no wolf tracks among the other tracks at the scene.

Wolf haters and wolf lovers will both likely find passages they’ll despise and embrace in this book. Here’s some that stood out for me. Page 183: “Hearings are a sign that the government has already made a decision. Taking public testimony is just a way to ease folks into an idea and let them blow off steam about it.”

Page 203: “In the wolf business, there’s no changing people’s minds, so there’s no point in arguing with them or trying to stop them from doing something illegal or just plain stupid. I’ve never known a wolf hater to become a wolf-lover or vice versa. When questioned, few people have neutral feelings about the subject, and those who are tolerant of wolves are usually afraid to express themselves.”

Page 182: “…wolves weren’t guilty most of the time.”

Page 331: “It was another case of wolf advocates being the wolf’s worst enemy.”

208: “No matter what the decision was regarding wolves, no one was happy….”

352: “The wolf issue has brought out such hatefulness in people. I want them to see that it doesn’t have to be all one way. It can’t be.”

So there you go. That’s my contribution to the wolf uproar. Read this book if you want. It’s not great, but is worth reading if you think you may find yourself talking about wolves.

If I’d grown up in Iowa and was fascinated with fox hunting and taxidermy, I’d go ahead and say ‘Wolfer’ is great. But Carter set out to write a memoir and he did, complete with reminiscing on an Iowa childhood, pursuing foxes and mounting animals. I had to brush by these to get at his wolf experience, which is why I bought the book.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go tie flagging on the collar of my elderly, 14-year-old husky-mix dog so I can take her on a stroll and explain to startled passersby that, no, that is not a wolf. She might lick your hand if you hold it out, but she’s not going to hobble over on her bad hips and tear your throat out. You’d be surprised how many times I have this conversation. Unless you’re Carter Niemeyer.