OF COWBOYS,SHEEP DOGS,BIG TROUT & ICE CREAM

BY JIM & SHIRLEY WHITE

The soil at the Owens Valley cow camp was powder a foot deep. At every step the dust swirled up and covered our cameras. I drive 400 miles every year to photograph this camp. Each year it is different. This year it was murder. I really wanted to go sit on the couch along-side the cabin and have Shirley take my picture, but the nearby Cowboys vaccinating cows were watching us. I think one of them was packing heat! I don't want any shootout in this heat today.

The nearby Hot Springs creek was the only thing that looked cool today. Not enough snow on the mountains for sure.

We are standing on the handicapped fishing platform at Convict Lake shooting the early morning light on the lake and I am grousing about what a lousy place to build the platform with all the shallow water below when a 24 inch Rainbow Trout weighing at least 10 lbs.cruses by. My casting arm begins to twitch and I know now I know nothing about fish!

We photograph sheep herders, their dogs and sheep, and dream about the old days of lamb stew and red wine in the Basque sheep camps we have known. We love their dogs, and one white Pyrenees remembers Shirley from some years ago. They were in the Bode Hills right where we always find them. The Herder waves but does not come up to see us this time. He knows we need him in our shot too.

Monitor Pass was as beautiful as we have ever seen it! I use the glasses to view White Cliff Peak way to the South, just above Connel's Cow camp of old. Our memories of horse adventures in the Fish Valley of the Silverking are as strong as ever. My horse Lady died there, her skull nailed to the wall of the Soda Springs Ranger Station. Rest in peace my lady.

Shirley let out a slight sigh as the girl scooped a very small scoop of Vanilla ice cream, but then worked it into a huge ball that hardly fit on the sugar cone. The Markleeville ice cream shop closes on Oct. 24th this year. Next trip I guess we will just have to hit the old Cutthroat Saloon for a shot or two, and remember Shrimp Ebright, the old horse packer who always wanted me to stay longer. But my family and kids were waiting, and trailering horses at night over Carson Pass, well only one for that road that was for sure.

  

Crane Addiction

by Jim and Shirley White

 

 A soft rain was hitting our bedroom window as I drug my body out of bed. It was 5:00 AM and pitch black outside. I nudged my wife Shirley and said "good morning, time to go chase some cranes". "My God Jim, it is not even light outside!" "I know, I said but it will be light by the time we get there" " "Your sick", she said, "you need to get another hobby!". Yep, I know, it is some kind of addiction that makes us chase Sandhill Cranes, the way we do. The report we had was the first Cranes this year had arrived at the Consumnes Wildlife Area, with Desmond road the best spot to see them. We were there at first light, and there were no Cranes. No Cranes, few ducks, nothing but lots of Blackbirds. What to do? Lets try Woodbridge road. Maybe we will see some Otters or something? At the public viewing area on Woodbridge road there was nothing. I parked the car, grabbed the Nikon with the 150-600mm lens, and walked to the bench and sat down. A few cars drove in looked around and left. Nothing. And then I saw something move, 150 yards away, and behind some thistle plants. It was a Sandhill Crane! And then I saw 5 more, and then 10 more off in the distance. To our amazement two cranes walked out of some cover less than 100 yards away. And then to our amazement, one began to throw a stick up high into the air and leap and try and catch it before it hit the ground.

And then the Cranes began their dance! They leaped up high and were playfully poking with their bills at each other. The light was poor, but who cares? They were playing and doing their dance for us!

How could these birds know how hard we tried to see them perform? It was like they were performing just for us. The dancing and throwing the stick lasted for maybe 3 or 4 minutes and then they wandered on behind some growth where they could not be photographed. It was over.

By 10:00 A.M. we were at Wimpy Marina and were ordering steak and eggs and biscuits and gravy.
Getting up this early does work up an appetite.As we waited for our order, Shirley remarked " I really love those Cranes!" When can we go again?

 

Wild Along Our Coast

by Jim and Shirley White

The shrill high scream sounded like the higher notes of a pipe organ in distress! It was a bull Tule elk in the Pt. Reyes National Seashore telling all that could hear,"this is my territory". It was thrilling to hear,even more thrilling to see him run-off the two huge bulls that tried to move in on his harem. We watched our screamer run around in circles, rounding up all the young does into a remarkably tight band. He was the proud owner of a really nice herd of females, that is if he can just hang on to them.

I know of no other place in California better to break in my new wildlife lens, a 150-600mm Tamron zoom, for my Nikon bodies. It was last Wednesday, all the Motel'ers were still in bed, no traffic at all on the Pierce Point road so we had it all to our self. Unfortunately, a dull grey fog hung over everything. Not the best light, but wildlife was every where. In three days we saw Coyotes, hawks,Shore birds,lots of Elk, deer, Cottontail rabbits and quite a few "dicky birds" to photograph. Camped at the Olema campground, we had lots of homemade stew, Truckee sourdough, and some good red wine. God does bless the poor, sometimes wicked, and always enthused wildlife photographers.

       

Death on the highway

by Jim and Shirley White

Driving at 65 mph on I80 east near Cisco Grove, I barely saw the roadkill out of the corner of my eye. I saw a small mass of an animal with long dark brown fur, long orange or yellow guard hairs across it's shoulders and down it's back. Not much different than the Wolverine I have seen. Seconds before I had been looking to the north at the Black Buttes and thinking about Byers Lake, where someone had photographed our local Sage Hen creek Wolverine crossing the ice a few springs ago. I shouted to Shirley, "they have killed our Wolverine". Not sure if it was a Wolverine or maybe a small cub bear, I had to go back and check. I pulled in off the road near the animal and guessed it was a cub, California Black bear. A closer exam proved that it was a bear cub.

Very fat, heavy, maybe 100 lbs, I drug it off the highway, more out of respect for the bear, than worry about the motorist. I could almost guess the history of it's short life. Back in the 1970's two DFG  bear biologist, Larry and Dick had helicoptered into the Granite Creek drainage south of here, following the radio signals from a female bear that had denned under a big log, with 10 feet of snow on top, right along Granite Creek. While digging thru the snow to change the batteries in her radio, the irate female had burst thru the snow just behind them and scared them so bad they almost did not jab her with the syringe with the drugs. After she went to sleep, an inspection of the den produced two small cubs with their eyes closed, about the size of a squirrel. Following the mother with her cubs from our airplane the next summer, we watched them go north, cross the freeway, and go all the way to Grouse Ridge and the Byers lake drainage. The freeway was new then, the deer herd fairly large, and records kept by Cal-Trans at Kingvale recorded about one thousand deer killed on the new I 80 each year. In late August that year, how the mother bear and her cubs made it back across the freeway and back down into the North Fork of the American river had to be just luck. The years have some how come and gone and also several generations of our mother bear. But in my mind, my little friend killed on I 80 yesterday, "I must have known your Great Grandmother." Get out of our way, or die. Are we in too much of a hurry to care any longer?

 

 

The Coyote with the pretty brown eyes

by Jim and Shirley White

We had been staked out for hours yesterday on the Beaver pond in a remote part of Sierra county. Trying to get more pictures of the baby Wood Duck chicks we have been following. Tired and on our way home, we were traveling east on the Jackson Meadows road and were only about 3 miles from highway 89 when we saw him. A skinny, half-starved coyote climbing up the steep bank from the upper Truckee river. After seeing many wild coyotes thru the years my first comment was he was starving. He walked out on the highway, head held low, a really dejected looking animal. The car ahead of us slowed to a stop and we pulled off and parked behind him. The creature walked slowly up  to the car when I saw something about his head that just did not look right. Ears too big, face not pointed, muzzle too long. I said "it must be a half-breed". I have seen them before, but never with a collar around their neck. It was a skinny, half-starved dog! The guy in the car ahead got a rope and I got down low and spoke softly, and he walked right up to me. I put my hand along side of his head, and he stopped, and pushed back against my hand. I saw some fresh blood on his right front foot, a wound he had just got coming up the steep cliff. The fellow in the car ahead wondered where the nearest house or cabin would be, and I said about 10 miles at least. Our dog was lost and had been lost for a long time.

 One other car stopped and offered a gold miners pan full of water. The driver in the car ahead said he had some kibble dog food in his trunk. Now who carries dog kibble in their trunk in the back country? The dog wolfed the food down, and drank his fill of water out of the gold pan. He walked up to the other driver's  car and looked up. You could see he really wanted in the car. The driver that offered the water left and said when he got cell service he would call the Sierra Co. Sheriff's office. I knew from other experiences like this, no one would come. Too far in the boonies, too many more important things to do. To leave the dog along the road, was to kill the dog. If he made it to the highway, he would be hit by a car for sure. Not a really pretty dog, no one would want him.

After talking at great length about what we should do,the guy in the car ahead said he would make room in the back of his car, he just could not let him die after what the dog must have been thru to survive. End of story. The guy who took him saw the desperate look in the dog's eyes, and said there was no other answer. He had to take him and give him a good home.

Although it is had to believe, there a some good people out there. It has been a long time since we have met one....but we did yesterday! We slept good last night.

 

f8 and Be There

by Jim and Shirley White

It is another very hot summer day in the foothills of Placer Co. Not a cloud in the sky. The waterfowl have all gone north, the deer,bear and other critters in hidden in the "bush". What is a Outdoor/Wildlife type photographer to do? I have no idea where to get some satisfying wildlife/outdoor photos today. Our first rule....get off your ass, pack up the photo gear, and get out there. It ain't going to happen in my refrigerated living-room!

 We have got to have a little pleasure first. Eggs and fixings at Katrina's at 0700. Where is there the most wildlife in this part of California? It is in the valley for sure. Where to go? I don't know. The refuges are barren, not much in the rice fields, a few Egrets and Ibises, but we don't need pictures of them. Hit the old familiar places and play it by ear I guess. We go to East Nicholas and I stop and think. During my Warden days where did I find the most pecker necks? The East Levee road just to the south-west. Up on the gravel levee road and the drain-ditch is full of Water Hyacinths. So full of plants waterfowl will not use it now. We turn east, cross the ditch and travel on a dirt farm road out into the thousands of acres of rice fields. The really green rice, without heads yet, is barren of wildlife. How about Coon Creek way to the north? I have not driven there in 40 years or more. One set of tire tracks in the road ahead tells me the rice rancher's water tender must travel this way. We cruise slowly along the creek road and thru a small opening I spy eyes watching me! I back up and there he is, a baby Black-Crowned Night Heron! He is standing in shallow water in a beautiful setting. I have never seen a BCNH baby out of it's nest before. This one is looking at me like I might be it's mother. Shirley and I fire our shutters at 6 frames per second while we have the chance. You can hunt the wildlife web sites and not find a shot like this one. A real prize for sure.

We move on and let the chick have it's peace. Nothing to fear from us for sure. I'm wondering where I am now out in the many rice field roads, when around the corner of the tule's up ahead appears this white pick-up. Time to play cool, like we belong here and it is just a real nice day. The driver smiles and has a slight frown that must be a question or two. I shove my 2 foot-long lens out the door and tell hem we are wildlife photographers, trying to make some bread today and having a tough time. He smiles and wonders out loud if we had seen all the white-herons on big tree along the creek? He called it a "roost". I said it must be a "rookery" and if he is going that way would he show us the way.

 One mile back along the creek at least 100 Large White Egrets were in the trees with babies stuffed in the nests everywhere. They are at least 100 yards away and Shirley and I are ready to climb to fence and get closer, when our new friend mentions all the black Angus bulls he saw along there the last time he was here. I show him what the babies look like on my LCD and he is amazed. 

When we figure out how to handle the bulls, we are going back. Just another case of f8 and be there!

Sierra Valley High

by Jim & Shirley White

Sierra Valley California can be a place of wonder. It has wildlife, rivers and ponds, farms and live stock. Add some clouds and it can be an outdoor photographers dream come true.

We have had some wonderful experiences in Sierra Valley. We go there in the middle of winter, spring and summer. We could tell stories. We prefer to just take pictures and remember. Just a few days ago this is what we saw.

A true California wonderland.