Love Cuts Like a Knife

As a public service to the spouses of sportsmen everywhere, I am offering up a gift idea just in time for Valentine's Day:  Knives.

Let us first examine in an objective format the current gifting expectations that represent heartfelt love in a relationship:

Gifts for Men: Nothing or a .99¢ greeting card.  An attempt is made here to reflect the perceived lifetime emotional contributions to the partnership in a monetary way.

Gifts for Women:  A weighty combination of scarce ores and pressure-formed minerals from deep within the Earth, which are then extracted and sold at retail for roughly the GNP of Honduras.

Together we can make this they year when guys of the male gender receive a modicum of equity for Valentine's Day.

The great thing about my suggestion is that your average male aspires to own his body weight in knives. In other words there is no need to be concerned about gift duplication.  15 or 20 fine pieces of outdoor cutlery are collectively known as "a good start" in terms of the lifetime need.

Also, Valentine's gifts should generate enthusiasm on the part of the recipient.  There is significant historical precedent to suggest that Gangnam Style is a  less energetic version of a guy's universal reaction to receiving a bladed gift - hence the strong value proposition of edged weapons for key emotional moments.

My own personal collection (still in its infancy) contains a favorite folding knife: The Zero Tolerance ZT0301ST.  The blade is S30V stainless steel, tiger striped using a Tungsten DLC coating which is very durable.  I really like the assisted opening mechanism (a Ken Onion/Strider design) on the 301 as well.  Handle material is 3-D machined G-10 and titanium, which is extremely strong and provides a solid grip wet or dry.

Happy Valentine's Week!  Guys: ALERT! 3 DAYS LEFT TO GET HER SOMETHING.  

Not Easy Being a Vole

There is something in a man that doesn't love a vole.  Kestrels, on the other hand, eat them like jalepeño poppers.

I have seen quite a few successful predations involving these little members of the falcon family, but never one that was initiated from level ground.  The vole emerged from some vegetation about 6 feet away from the seemingly resting bird.  It was a little astonishing to see the kestrel take a few quick strides, leap into the air, and use one quick flap of its wings to extend the jump and land directly on target.

99 problems and vole ain't one of 'em.

Image Details:
Nikon D4
Nikon TC17EII
Nikon 400mm f/2.8 @ f/4.8, 1/1000, ISO 220

Stay Frosty

Pheasants believe strongly in a few basic maxims of life.

     1) RUN AWAY!!!

Overall that is the main rule, and they do it well.  Only slightly less emphasized in phez elementary is this:

     2) HOLDING STILL = INVISIBILITY

If the unthinkable happens and rule #1 fails, a pheasant will hold still with a bravado bordering on recklessness under the belief that doing so makes them totally invisible.  I always find it pretty comical to see the expression of surprise frozen on a bird's face at this moment.  Probably it's a combination of shock that running did not work as planned coupled with an impending loss of bowel control.  Either way, it's a high alert situation.

I think this is probably the closest I've ever been to a wild pheasant with a camera.  The distance here is about 8 yards.  Light will make or break an image like this, and the morning sun was in the perfect position to cast a golden glow on this pretty little hen. 

The year's first birding trip was a lot of fun even though opportunities were scarce despite covering a lot of ground.

Image Details:

Nikon D4

Nikon TC17EII

Nikon 400mm f/2.8 @ f/5, 1/1000, ISO 100

National Geographic Daily Dozen - August 9th

I continue to enjoy the variety and unique perspectives that National Geographic selects from world-wide submissions as Daily Dozen winners.  Your Shot is a great site to check out if you enjoy diverse imagery.

Your Shot Link

It's an honor to have an image appear in today's selections.  This is a 4:1 supermacro of my friend's amazing eye.  I was drawn to the color and patterns in her iris during a portrait shoot, and appreciated her willingness to let me setup a tedious shot with off-camera lighting.

Click on the image below to see a larger size on Flickr:

Man vs Wasp

About a week ago I was minding my own business in the privacy of my back yard, when a series of events kicked off that beggars the imagination.

It so happened that while mowing my lawn, I came into close proximity of a yellow jacket nest hidden behind a 4x4 fence post.  Driven by the prop wash from the mower blade, a stream of meat bees was hurled directly at my midsection.  Leaping back and employing the types of air kicks appropriate for the situation, I was somehow able to avoid getting stung.  The fight was immediately brought to the hive, and order was restored to my domain.

The very next day I got home from work and went to check the mail.  Imagine my surprise when, upon opening my sealed mailbox, a blast of black jackets swarmed outward mere inches away from my "vitals."  In this case I performed a maneuver that would later be described by onlookers as a swimmer's backstroke in mid-air.  The windmilling effect of my arms was successful in fending off the attack, due largely to my disciplined form.

Day 3 found me on high alert after back-to-back encounters with the stinging horde.  Emerging from my garage, my eyes probed the recesses of the yard for telltale signs of flying insects.  In so doing, my gaze settled upon a dry patch in the lawn.  Having satisfied myself that the coast was clear, I grabbed the garden hose (which is kept on one of those wall-mounted spools).  Peeling off about 6 feet or so, I cranked on the water.  Overall my sprinklers do a good job, so the hose had not been used in several weeks.  A species of wasp that remains unidentified had actually built a nest inside the tubing!  Instantly, I was holding in my grasp what amounted to a roman candle from Hell which was literally spouting wasps as the whole system pressurized.  Flailing the hose in a figure 8 I lunged backwards.  Parry, parry, thrust, thrust.  Good!

If you feel that such a string of events could not possibly continue into the 4th day, your abilities as a prognosticator leave much to be desired.

What happened actually defies description to a certain extent.  I will attempt to describe it in the interest of documentation, but everything happened so fast it's difficult to put the experience into words.

Towards evening, I went to let the dogs out into the back yard.  As my pointers ran out and the door shut behind me, the most horrendous whirring of wings became audible.  Looking towards the Huey-like sound, a W.O.U.S. (Wasp Of Unusual Size) attacked me seemingly from out of nowhere.  Now, I have spent a great deal of time in the outdoors and this was an alien species the likes of which I had never even conceived of.

 

Multiple inches long, and sporting some considerable biomass, the wasp came right at me and rammed into my chest.  After rebounding, it charged again without hesitation.  Flitting like a wood nymph around the yard, I grabbed a round-nosed shovel and adopted a batter's stance.  Still, the beast came.  I swung hard, and the blow connected with a sound similar to hitting a marble with an aluminum bat.  "DOOOOING!"  My foe was launched about 25 feet out onto the grass... and immediately rose up again on wings of hate.

I struck a second time, downing the fiendish creature yet again.  Without hesitation I delivered a Spartan-like stabbing motion with the blade of the shovel that cut the wasp in twain.  To my amazement, the front half then went airborne and seemed even more agile without the payload of its abdomen!  The horror!  The horror!  Leaving little to chance my next blow decapitated what I would later discover is the Giant Pigeon Tremex Horntail Wasp, Tremex colombo aureus.  It turns out this species, AKA the wood wasp, cannot sting at all and I was in little danger (they can, apparently, deliver a solid bite).

Later in the week I encountered another Pigeon Horntail in the same area and took the photograph you see above.  The sharp protrusion that looks like a stinger is actually an ovipositor for laying eggs in bark, and is what gives the wasp its name.

Since the events described herein, I have switched to offense - trapping and spraying all manner of stinging pests in my yard at an alarming rate.

They started it.

SOG Trident

Fishermen and sportsmen in general tend to be blade-intensive personalities.  I am no different and over the years have accumulated roughly the bulk of an adolescent pachyderm in knives.

One of my favorites for all around use is the SOG Trident, which is available in a variety of finishes.  The tiger stripe version is particularly badass.



Not only is this model a great size for EDC (every day carry), but it's perfect as a fishing, camping, or hunting implement.  I also really like keeping a Trident in each of my vehicles because it's an outstanding emergency tool.  The notched handle creates an ideal seat belt cutter, and the butt where the pocket clip attaches is robust enough to use for breaking glass if needed.

The handle is Zytel, which is a light weight polymer that affords an easy grip wet or dry.  Partial serration of the blade again adds to the versatility.  SOG has also incorporated an assisted opening mechanism making one-handed access to the blade very snappy.  A safety is present as a precautionary measure, locking the blade in the closed position when not in use.

Going price: About $59 bucks - a nice bargain for an edge with this many applications.

Soft Water

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming, because it's frankly still hard to believe that for the past several weeks I have been fly fishing mid-elevation stillwaters in Utah.  During February.  No ice holes required.  As in casting a fly line and having its entirety land on liquid where there would normally be 14 inches of solid ice right now.

The Hell you say?  Well, in all past years of my lifetime you would be entirely correct in calling BS - but not THIS year.  Hungry trout have been tearing the chenille off my flies right down to the bare hook because no one has told them there's another month of Winter supposedly going on right now.



It has been butt-numbing cold at times, but this is OPEN WATER we are talking about.  The cure to cabin fever. 

Not only that but in the town of Circleville a guy named Mike, proprietor of Butch Cassidy's Hideout, makes something called a Hash Stack.  It's a conglomeration of hash brown potatoes, ham, sausage, bacon, and 2 eggs smothered in country gravy.  One eats this breakfast, and then fishes all day with  no additional nutrient requirements.

Early in the season I am giddy to fish and don't spend much time behind the lens. While rivers are certainly available all Winter long, stillwater trout on the fly at 6,500 feet in February... it's just unheard of.

Here's to places of extremes.  See you on the water.