Tag Archives: squatters

Riding Fence

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Cowboys Pinedale Wyoming

If you want to see fence go to Wyoming. They have some. Miles of it in fact, miles and miles and miles of it. It stretches from here, where you happen to be at the moment, to way the heck out there. Beyond however far you can see. If you have new glasses, or have just got your eyes done and think you have the eyesight of a young eagle, you still can’t see the end of it. Stand on top of your car, jump up real high, squint and still the fence goes on. Too put it simply there is a lot of fence in Wyoming.

Ok if you’re one to ask questions about fence and fencing in general, and I suspect you are, here are some answers.

Is fencing dangerous? Fencing in and of itself is not inherently dangerous, although it is terribly unforgiving of your desire to just turn left and drive off into the pasture land, willy nilly, as it were. One exception, most fencing is wire and it’s got pickily, stickery pieces with sharp pointy edges every 8″ along the entire length of it. This is known in the trade as Barb wire (Easterners say Barbed wire which clearly identifies them as tourists, dudes and tenderfeet) and is the primary fencing material used in the west and Wyoming. These are designed to tear your brand new $120.00 jeans if you try to sneak thru it by crawling over or under or trying to jump it and missing. So be warned of that.

Does fencing block off access? Fencing does block off access. This is both good and bad. Bad if you’re one to go out onto someone’s land and squat there. Build a house maybe, scatter old wrecked windshield-less cars from the 40’s around. Put up signs saying things like “The Jones Live here. No Trespassing.” Or “Beauty Acres, We Don’t rent Chickens.” The people who really own that land don’t like that. They don’t want you to do that, Hence the Fence. The good, because it keeps things like the above from happening.

Why do they have so much fence you might ask and can I go and see it? Yes you can go and see it. Just behave yourself. There is a lot of space in Wyoming. You can drive for what seems like days and not meet an oncoming vehicle. And people somewhat like you and I (but not us) own it, all of it. Even parts that don’t look like they’d be worth owning, someone does, and it isn’t you and me. This is neither good or bad it just is, deal with it. I don’t know about you but I don’t own one square inch of any fencible land in Wyoming. I’m betting you don’t either, unless of course you’re a bonafide Wyoming landowner, and if you are you already know all this stuff.

What’s the real reason they have fencing, not the bull you’ve been handing out so far? Ok, the real skinny on fencing and why it’s done can be answered in one word, Cows. Cows is the reason we have McDonalds. There are other restaurants too that are in the cow meat business because of cows and lets face it if you want to eat cow meat while you’re out driving around looking at fences, you have to go to McDonalds. Wyoming landowners have figured this out some time ago and taken advantage of this knowledge by buying up and owning the entire state of Wyoming and then fencing it.

Why do Wyoming landowners like fencing so much? Because. That’s it in a nutshell, because they want to and can.The fences keep one guys cows on his own place and doesn’t allow those cows to mingle or fraternize with the guy’s cows next to him. Each guy and/or girl feels very strongly about this. There’s been trouble about it, so like they say “good fences make good neighbors”. Because of this it is imperative that one’s fences are in good repair, not busted and laying on the ground so cows can leave and get all mixed up with someone else’s. To make certain of this the landowner employs cowboy type guys to inspect the fence regularly for damage. This is known as Riding Fence in western or Wyoming talk. The image above shows two young cowboy trainees riding along a fence to check its integrity and continuity. This is an important job and taken very seriously by all involved. If they find any discrepancies they will immediately race home and tell the landowner so it can be fixed. Good job boys. Thanks for helping all of us better understand fence and fencing.

Pancho And Lefty – Standoff At Cascade Creek

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2015-11-28PanchoLeftyCascadeCrk8254

As the tale goes the Cascade Creek pack had killed a cow elk a couple of days ago. The carcass lay upon a gentle rise out in the meadow about 150 yards away from the highway. It had been worked over pretty good by the pack, plus a grizzly that came in and stripped a lot of the big bones that were still heavy with meat during the night. A four hundred pound elk doesn’t go very far when the big boys start feeding.

Soon the carcass had flattened out so that it was barely visible above the snow it lay upon. It looked as If there wouldn’t’ be anything left for the pack when they came back to feed later in the day. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t still sustenance to be had. There was marrow in the smaller bones that hadn’t been carried off yet. The hide could be licked and chewed on for the blood. There were still parts left to eat.

Pancho and Lefty were the first to arrive. As young bucks in the pack they were always hungry and wanted to get in there and get what they could before the Alpha and his mate showed up. There wouldn’t be much chance to eat once he arrived, he’d decide who ate and when, or even if, and his mate wasn’t any easier to get along with.

As luck would have it the Raven Clan had moved in and assumed control of the kill. They were pretty amped up as they had just driven a Golden Eagle off the carcass and they weren’t about to give up their prize without a battle.

However, impotence cures in such a situation can be administered to determine if the man has decreased DHEA levels. free samples of cialis Also known as wolfberry, goji berries tend to be reddish in color and are viagra buy no prescription respitecaresa.org a bit elongated. I do an extensive exam to determine the root of the amaranth and cheap viagra chafed it in a great and sanitary location. Male redundant prepuce is too long or tight underwear excessively stimulate the side effects of viagra glans penis can cause the premature ejaculation. At first glance you would believe that it would be a pretty unequal fight, what with the wolves being 100 lbs plus and the ravens weighing about three, three and a half tops, but size can fool you. Sure the wolves had pulled down a four hundred pound cow with very little trouble and they could easily snap a raven in two with those powerful jaws, but first they had to catch them. And the ravens had one point in their favor. Wolves cannot fly.

The ravens also had those long pointed beaks. They could peck at a massive bone until they cracked it to get at the marrow inside. It would not be too troublesome to take out a wolf’s eye if it came to that. So there you have it. The wolves surveyed the situation deciding on how much energy they wanted to spend evicting the squatters and the ravens knew that if they were tenacious enough they could pester the wolves into leaving. It was the standoff at the Cascade Creek kill.

Finally the wolves decided that there was enough left on the carcass that it would be worth the battle. They charged into the flock repeatedly, the ravens would lift up just out of muzzle range and settle back just as quickly once the wolf went after another bird. It looked like they could do this all day, but the wolves being wolves were still hungry and they didn’t let up. Finally the Ravens called a truce and moved back out of lunging range, content with nipping in and stealing little morsels that were dropped by the wolves. The wolves tolerated this until the Raven would get too confidant, then they would make short lunges to run it off.

The one-sided battle went on for several hours until the wolves had eaten their fill and wandered off to find a resting place to settle in and sleep off their meal. The Ravens knowing this would happen moved back in on the carcass and went to work. This was just a battle, the war would go on for as long as there were wolves and ravens. Right now it was mostly a draw.

Pancho and Lefty were lucky. They had the kill to themselves for much longer than usual and they did not waste the opportunity. They ate as much and as quickly as they could. The Alpha and the rest of the pack had slept in and didn’t get there until much later in the day. By then most of the drama was over. The carcass was just about picked clean and it was another day in Yellowstone.

Hey! What’s The Holdup?

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We just received an urgent message from one of our summer residents regarding the weather up here on The Institute’s grounds. Normally our summer people, in this case the Bluebirds, begin arriving at the end of February, first of March and find themselves up to their tail feathers in snow and cold. This winter however has been different with milder temperatures and almost no snow.

Apparently what is making the bluebirds itchy is the fact that now that satellite TV is so prevalent, even down in central Mexico where these guys winter over, they can watch the Weather Channel and figure out when they should start back. The Eastern bluebirds don’t have a problem. They watch the east coast getting dumped on and they go “No way, Jose. I’m good right here for another month.” They have no problem hanging out down here catching rays and eating Maguey worms until things break up North.

Our Mountain Bluebirds are of hardier stock and they’re tired of the good life down there in mañana land and they know how tough it is to get reservations in the better places. Their wives are reminding them everyday that egg time is getting nearer and if they want that good nesting box down by the pond where all the bugs are they better get their feathery little butts in gear and get this show on the road. Hence the cryptic message “Hey! What’s the Holdup? You guys ready, or what?”.

Well our response was “Hey yourself! We’re not in charge of Spring, buddy, if I was you I’d be gone already.” There is no holdup weather-wise as far as the Institute is concerned so we sent word down, the gates are open, and if you want that nesting box by the pond you better have your deposit here by the end of the week or we turn it over to our timeshare people and they’ll put it out there for bids. This is a cutthroat business. There are a flock of a lot of bluebirds out there and only so many nesting boxes so this is one of our critical times to maintain our cash flow. The Institute as you know is a non-profit endeavor but we do have expenses and if we don’t make our bottom line, people go home, you know what I mean? We love our little feathered friends but if they don’t pony up you’ll find them walking down the road dragging their little egg sack behind them.

Now that the word has spread that the weather’s ok, and we’re open for business, the deposits are pouring in and we expect to see out little blue buddies in a week or so. The only problem we have is the squatters that have hung around all winter, I don’t know where, someplace warm and out of the wind I guess. They sneak in the first warm day regardless of the date and set up housekeeping in our dryer vent way up high on The Institute’s wall where you can’t get at them. Last year we hired a team of Barn Swallows to evict them and that solved the problem. We lost about a week and a half’s rent but it could have been worse. The Barn Swallows made up for it, they pack about 30 of them in that space and as we charge by the head we came out ok.

Below is a shot of the offender that now hangs on our undesirable board. He has been put on the very bottom of the list for the next 11 years and since bluebirds tend to only live around 9 years he’ll be setting up housekeeping down by the landfill for the foreseeable future. The words’ out pretty good now “No Line Jumping!”

Squatter2218

Now onto the next big problem, where to put all those Barn Swallows.

The Maiden Voyage of The Bokeh Maru – Days 11 & 12

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Phototrip7793New headquarters of the Oregon chapter of The Institute

Day 11 Rest & Rehabilitation

Today was spent in cleaning out and burning the few personal effects left from our missing crew members.  Old ginseng wrappers and cans of open beverages with unreadable labels. Remains of old unidentifiable meals that looked organic in nature but frankly could have been anything. Even a few pitifully constructed weapons in the form of sharpened sticks and socks filled with gravel that had been hastily constructed for the ill-fated mutiny that was put down by my trusted but now missing head of security, Big Lemon Kowalski. Remembering the carnage brought about by that big toothed but lovable lug, brought a warm glow of remembrance.

I found a few poems written by our Candace Flavours, known to us as ExcuseMeMs for most of the trip, that she had written to Big Lemon. They were so warm and caring they nearly brought a tear to my eye. Thinking her cold and callous and well, just plain mean, I would never thought her capable of harboring such tender feelings. Here is a partial excerpt from one.

My dearest BLK I love you mostly for your big yellow tooth

And not because you won’t wear your shooths

and tho I love your tattooed feet

they are less fragrant, but you know that, my sweet

I want you always to be mine

Or I will kill you

Love, your candy buttons

There was more, running on page after page ad nauseam, but they are personal and I shan’t share any more of them with you even if you were to pay me money in the form of cash, check, or money order, as I have too much respect for her now that she is gone. They were tender and moving and in some cases extremely explicit in nature, with many of the acts so detailed and graphic that they could only have been Chinese because of all the perverted stuff that comes out of that godless mis-begotten country, but no matter how much you beg, cajole or send me large amounts of money in the form of cash check or money order, I won’t budge. I mean it, so don’t ask.

Now that I seem to be bonding with my new site manager and his lovely wife I am beginning to feel the loss of my last two crew members, less and less each moment . In fact our new Mrs. Assistant Site Manager made us an extraordinary home-cooked meal tonight in which I may have over-indulged somewhat, and being in the throes of calorie saturation found myself unable to remember what, old what’s her name looked like. Or that monkey-faced big toothed baboon she had been mooning over.

Perhaps I’ll think about that tomorrow.

Day 12 New Digs

Today was a new day and a fresh start. After convincing our newest major employee to give up that tissue sample and DNA material, I assured him that we would cover all his legal expenses if any thing were to come of our future business dealings. Fortunately he didn’t ask me to sign any documents attesting to that fact so we headed off to look for a suitable site to create our new headquarters. It wasn’t long before we noticed this incredible find. It was remote, had a single power-line coming in, and seemed mostly abandoned so we proceeded to acquire it under the Oregon law of Finders Keepers.

Giddy with our initial success we immediately began to make plans to get started with the remodeling needed to keep wild animals out until winter made it too difficult for them to brave the storms and attempt to gain entrance.

First on the agenda, besides breaking down the front door to gain entrance, was to begin making notes for the materials needed to secure the premises from, like, the afore-mentioned wild animals and possible old owners who may be testy due to their poor planning and could be lurking around to cause mischief in one way or another. So it was lots of fast scribbling and quick note taking as the ideas poured forth in a flood of enthusiasm. Luckily our new assistant site manager knew how to write, so much progress was made this morning. Soon trucks bearing loads of flattened cardboard boxes to replace missing window glass and magic markers to write warning messages on the cardboard saying “Don’t Even Think of Coming In Here” and “Stay out! We mean it” and other cryptic messages such as

“The State of Oregon allows the use of deadly force in the protection of private property if the new owners, hereafter called the squatters, deem it necessary to keep out previous owners, hereafter known as previous owners, who didn’t think it was a good idea to leave someone home to protect the property they have now lost.”

would be arriving if they could ford the creek and climb over the snow fence. Of course the drivers would have to be blindfolded to protect the location of our newest headquarters but that was a surmountable problem.

There were many other tasks to be taken care of such as finding out why there were so many bleached bones lying about the well, and what was that black crust around the edge, and why there was that persistent scratching sound coming from behind that locked door leading to the basement. We decided that it was nothing as the low guttural moaning that accompanied the scratching was receding, and it appeared that what ever it was seemed to be going to sleep for the night.  We decided to leave the new Assistant Mrs. Site Manager there overnight to guard the place as we needed to get back into town and round-up some of these supplies and to make sure we had a hot meal in preparation of the next days activities. We left her with a flashlight, the .22 with the few shells we had left, a power bar and the warning not to open the door to the basement.

I had few qualms about leaving them in the morning as I had to continue my journey homeward the next day. They seemed more than capable and I was sure if Mrs. Assistant Site Manage was ok in the morning all would go well and the newest site would be up and producing useful data soon.

The journey was soon coming to an end and I was already waxing nostalgic about it but there were at least two more days to get home yet so anything could happen. Tomorrow I would enter Utah and head South. Stay tuned.