The Hitchhiker

Early Spring in Yellowstone

It’s early spring in Yellowstone, actually it’s nearly the end of the month and where the rest of the country is looking at early flowers and sunshine, up here it’s cold, the snow keeps falling and food is hard to find.

This grizzly and her cub are up early and looking for supper. Problem is there isn’t much in the way of food right now. Snow covers everything and the ground is still frozen so digging for ground squirrels isn’t on the menu yet. Hopefully there’ll be some winter kill around. A nice frozen buffalo that didn’t make it through the winter would be welcome. Anything dead at all in fact would be welcome, she’s hungry and the cub needs its milk so she’s got to get something going in the way of sustenance.

The cub doesn’t know quite what to make of all this white stuff or the cold for that matter. It’s been snuggling with mom for so long that it’s a real shock to discover cold paws. Luckily mom has been through this all before and doesn’t mind the cub’s climbing aboard to get out of the cold wet snow.

As this is the very end of May, tomorrow will likely bring bright sunshine, rapidly melting snow and food. There’s edible grass under the snow, and on the southern side of the hillsides the ground is warm enough that she can dig out some unlucky ground squirrels, and the cub will be off her back and scrambling around discovering it’s new life out of the den. No need to hitchhike anymore.

Old No. 6

Old No. 6 – Bull Elk – Yellowstone National Park
Memories of an old friend

I was wandering thru my wildlife portfolio when I happened across an old friend. Old No. 6 as he was known by one and all was a huge bull elk that frequented the area around the Mammoth Hotel in Yellowstone National Park. If you have ever visited Yellowstone in the Fall and seen all of the elk that wander freely about near the hotel and headquarters area you would have seen Old No. 6 majestically parading around the edges of the herd, striding through the collected cows with his incredible span of antlers held high as if he owned them, which he did by the way. At least until the Rut, the mating season, was over

He was magnificent in every way. Over 700 lbs. of pure ornery not to be interred with prime Yellowstone bull, he brooked no interference by man or beast at the best of times. At the worst of times everyone was advised to run away. Quickly and Far. Many times if he simply saw you, standing around daring to make eye contact, you were considered interference and he would try to convince you of the errors of your ways. Several eager but soon to be regretful tourists suffered a series of perforations at the ends of those needle sharp antler points and had to be treated for those wounds quickly lest they expire. As far as can be determined there were no fatalities due to confronting Old No. 6. but then they haven’t searched everywhere.

One of Old No. 6’s idiosyncrasies was to charge and attempt to fatally wound any vehicle that he deemed to be too close to his cows and calves. There were a certain number of body shops around the U.S. that owed a portion of their revenue to Old No. 6 for the holes in the body panels of the vehicles brought to them for repairs after a run in with cantankerous old No. 6. After a while he got famous enough for his bad behavior and intolerance of fools that the prestigious BBC and others came to immortalize him on film. Sadly he received no remuneration for his stardom which may have added to his curmudgeonly behavior.

Several times his behavior became so intemperate that the Park Rangers had to tranquilize him and saw off his antlers to prevent further mayhem. This event didn’t injure him in any way other than to make him even more furious but in an impotent way. It’s difficult to maintain your rep as the baddest bull out there when you have no antlers. This did little to change his attitude but it did slow down the ambulance rides and body work necessary after one of his tirades. But beyond that troublesome little fact of his anti-social demonstrations he was loved by the millions that saw him. Whenever he decided to take a break he would be immediately surrounded by the local Elkeratzzi who would take his picture. One of which was yours truly who is solely responsible for the image above. Now that he’s gone I’m glad that I took it. If he had seen it I think he would be pleased to be presented as a quiet, kindly soul, just taking a break from living life on his terms.

Christmas Greetings 2018

It’s that time of year again. A time when the whole world, plus or minus a few folks, stop what they’re doing to celebrate the season that brings everybody together for better or for worse. A time for gift giving, fellowship, families, catching up, or if you’re alone a time to reflect back on Christmas’s past.

I wish each and every one of you, yes even you, and you know who you are, a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Please continue to visit BigShotsNow during the new year. Hopefully we can create some new visions and stories to entertain you and even put a smile on your face. Tall order I know, but I think we’re up to it.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Christmas Festival at Bent’s Old Fort – The Blacksmith

One frigidly cold night at Bent’s Old Fort out on the nearly deserted plains of Southeast Colorado, it was 12° in the plaza. It was the celebration of Christmas and the fort was decorated with evergreen boughs brought down from the mountains and hung on all the post holding up the second story deck. There were ribbons and Christmas decorations in the various rooms and the festive feelings of the holidays were everywhere. Under the empty cloudless sky brimming with stars whose light did little to provide warmth, log fires burned around the grounds valiantly trying to keep the cold away and provide light. It worked if you stood right up next to the fires, so close you risked setting yourself on fire, but at the time that didn’t seem like a bad idea. It was the annual Christmas Festival at the fort and the crowds filling up the central plaza hadn’t been there long enough to let the cold seep into their bones.

Shadows of the people casually milling around the open plaza were cast up onto the towering adobe walls. Mountain men and women carrying lanterns with candles inside kept tours of guests moving from one room to the next as their various occupants within explained their jobs, their lives, and how things were when the fort was in use back in the early 1800’s.

The rooms quickly filled up as the groups entered and clustered together for warmth. As the rooms were not heated in many cases, the more people gathered together the better and warmer it felt. Some places had small adobe fireplaces in the rooms that gave off heat as long as you kept them stoked with the split wood that appeared to be in endless supply. For some reason it took the tours a little longer to go through those heated rooms than the ones that were unheated.

There was one place however that was very popular. The Blacksmith shop. The roaring fire in the forge, the ringing of the hammer against the anvil, the lanterns hung about with their glowing dancing candlelight, the gathering groups of people all eager to soak up the warmth of the shop. Many questions were asked of the blacksmith and his assistant, so many in fact that the tour leaders had to move one group out so the next could enter. It was amazing how much folks wanted to know about the art of blacksmithing especially when someone would open the door letting that refreshing 12° air into the room. The door would quickly be shut and the blacksmith would pull the chain on the huge bellows and the fire in the forge would come roaring back to life again shooting sparks up the adobe brick chimney like a Roman candle.

The project in the shop that evening was creating delicate hammered iron hooks, hand-fashioned and bent and pounded into shape by the skilled hands of the blacksmith. Knowing the exact color needed in the heated metal rods he would pull them out of the fire, place them on the anvil and strike with his small heavy hammer until they were formed exactly as he needed them to be. The process was fascinating. It was mesmerizing and almost hypnotic watching the gorgeous red metal slowly fade to a darker shade until it had to be placed back in the forge and be reheated.

The Christmas Festival at Bent’s Old Fort was a wonderful event. After a while the crowds seemed to forget about the cold as the warmth of the season and the good fellowship of the folks sharing their love of the fort and its history spread throughout the plaza. All of the guests seemed to have a great time and enjoyed immensely the atmosphere of a treasured part of history. If you get the opportunity to attend the Christmas Festival at Bent’s Old Fort don’t miss it, the memories will stay with you forever.