Monday, April 27, 2020

Tomahawks Chaga house Cafe` – Inonotus obliquus

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I have collected Chaga – Inonotus obliquus all over the world in cold climates. Recently in Mongolia, I bought 2 kilos of chaga at a local market for about 20 bucks. It is one of my favorite natural drinks and is also really good for fire making.

Inonotus obliquus, commonly known as chaga mushroom (a Latinisation of the Russian term ‘чага’), is a fungus in the family Hymenochaetaceae. It is parasitic on birch and other trees. The sterile conk is irregularly formed and has the appearance of burnt charcoal. It is not the fruiting body of the fungus, but a sclerotia or mass of mycelium, mostly black due to the presence of massive amounts of melanin. The fertile fruiting body can be found very rarely as a resupinate (crustose) fungus on or near the clinker, usually appearing after the host tree is dead. I. obliquus grows in birch forests of Russia, Korea, Eastern and Northern Europe, northern areas of the United States, in the North Carolina mountains and in Canada.

The chaga mushroom is considered a medicinal mushroom in Russian and Eastern European folk medicine; medical evidence is emerging.

Alternative names
The name chaga (/ˈtʃɑːɡɑː/ ) comes from the Russian word of the mushroom (anglicized from чага), which in turn is purportedly derived from the word for the fungus in Komi-Permyak, the language of the indigenous peoples in the Kama River Basin, west of the Ural Mountains. It is also known as the clinker polypore, cinder conk, black mass and birch canker polypore.
In Norwegian, the name is kreftkjuke’ which literally translates as “cancer polypore”, referring to the fungus’ appearance or to its alleged medicinal properties. In Finnish, the name is pakurikääpä, combined from pahkura and kääpä translating as “wart polypore”.
In England and Canada, it is known as the sterile conk trunk rot of birch, which refers to the fruiting bodies growing under the outer layers of wood surrounding the sterile conk once the tree is dead, to spread the spores. In France, it is called the carie blanche spongieuse de bouleau (spongy white birch tree rot), and in Germany it is known as Schiefer Schillerporling (oblique Inonotus). The Dutch name is berkenweerschijnzwam (birch glow mushroom).

Medicinal research
Chaga has been used as a folk remedy in Russia and other North-European countries for centuries and it featured in Alexandr Solzhenitsyn’s 1967 novel Cancer Ward.
Research on the health effects of I. obliquus has shown that extracts of it can hamper the growth and proliferation of tumors as well as have positive effects on the immune system. Though, according to the Memorial Sloan–Kettering Cancer Center, “no clinical trials have been conducted to assess chaga’s safety and efficacy for disease prevention or for the treatment of cancer, cardiovascular disease, or diabetes”.

Id love to open up a Chaga house cafe, offering simple meals and a series of different chaga based drinks dedicated to wilderness people of the past.
Menu – Tomahawks chaga house café
  1. The Bob Wagg – chaga infused rum and a draft beer.
  2. The Dorothy Moulter – home made root beer served over chaga ice cubes.
  3. The Woodland caribou – Usnea moss infused Shackletons Scotch, a shot of chaga tea, with sparkling water.
  4. The Bull moose – equal parts Maine guides coffee and chaga infused bourbon served with a shot of maple syrup and creamer.
5. The Whisky Jack – a double shot of chaga infused bourbon and straight black Montana     guides coffee.
6. The desert rat –  Chaga infused tequila with a shot of prickly pear syrup and a chili tepin on the side.

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Chaga at the Blackmarket in Ulaan Bataar, Mongolia
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Philippines; The Bamboo fire saw


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One day in Cebu, Philippines while sitting around the house drinking a few San Miguel Beers “Jungle Wil” , AKA  Cochise rattle snake, AKA “Hell Boy” and I decided to play around with the Bamboo fire saw.

While on our way home from a beer run ,We pilfered a 4′ length of dried bamboo from a construction site near the apartment , then set to work. Using our Bolo Knives and a swiss army knife (saw) we split the Bamboo and Banged out a fire set in the style used by Hiroo Onoda the Japanese WW2 hold out that hid in the Jungles of Luzon for 29 years (My 30 year war).

After a bit of practicing, and trial and error, we succeeded in getting an ember and I was able to blow it into a flame. It was good training but seems to me to be a more difficult method to make fire then the Hand drill or Bow and Drill.

Our friends at the pastolon Aeta negrito village near Subic bay use the Bamboo friction fire method to light all of their fires. I was told by my friend Miguel that Matches cost money, but Bamboo is free in the forest – sound logic.

I have seen my friends Miguel and Tata make fire many times, but it always takes them about 40 seconds to a minute to get a decent ember. A minute or so is still a hell of a lot quicker then I can make one in, The last time I tried this type of fire making it took me about ½ an hour to get my fire going.

Tools:
  • Bolo Knife or axe
 Step 1. Select a thick, rugged piece of Dried bamboo. Split the bamboo down the middle with a knife. When you kneel on the ground, the length of bamboo should be tall enough to be wedged between your stomach and the ground.

Step 2. Cut a second piece of split bamboo that is slightly shorter than the 1st.

Step 3. Prepare a place to build the fire. Clear a spot on the ground or find a         shallow, dry hole. Place dry leaves and dead wood in your spot.

 Step 4. Hold the first piece of bamboo firmly against the ground with one edge wedged against your stomach. Cushion the edge of the bamboo with a rolled-up shirt or jacket.

Step 5. Saw up and down with the shorter piece of bamboo. Hold the shorter piece of bamboo horizontally over the vertical piece. Saw for several minutes until a well-defined groove is created.

Step 6. Scrape the back of the bamboo with your Bolo knife to create a tinder bundle (see photo). Put the tinder inside the piece you are using as a saw. Cut a bamboo shim the length of your hand piece. Hold the shim over your hand piece with a thumb on each end.

Step 7. Continue sawing until a hole burns through the shim. Blow gently into the bamboo to ignite the tinder. Light the leaves and dead wood with the ignited tinder.


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Philippines; The Aeta of Luzon

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tata and antonio cropped

I was lying on my bamboo bed in the cool of the early morning jungle dawn. I wrapped myself in a bed sheet that I was using as a blanket and using my pack as a pillow. I’m not sure of the time but it was barely light when I saw my good friend Tata Kasoy  enter the hut and make a “pire” for “Kopi” and to cook a few bananas for breakfast.
It had been raining all night, and I had barely slept. We had seen a Philippine cobra the day before during our hike and thoughts of it were still in my head. Also, the uncomfortable humidity and my wet clothing were all combining to make a comfy sleep impossible.
The previous morning My Adventure buddy Jungle Wil and I had met our Good friends Miguel and Tata  at the trail head near Pamulaklakin, after exchanging gifts and sharing a meal of coffee, sardines and rice cooked in bamboo, I realized that I had forgotten my Bolo knife in Cebu so I traded my mini mag flash light and 6 batteries to the lead forest ranger for an extra bolo of his, it is a cool looking knife and the sheath is made from PVC plastic heated and cut to shape then held together with screws.
Anyway, we redistributed our loads and packed up then headed down the trail.
We hiked for several hours deep into the Aeta territory; we entered the territory of Antonio the younger brother of Tata . I had no idea we had entered his land but suddenly Tata spied a faint trail leading off to the right and said “dis trail my brother” we followed it for a long while then tata began to shout in Aeta to his brother that we were in his territory.
After a search of about 10 minutes we managed to locate Antonio, he just materialized from the trees wearing black clothing and sporting the longest bolo relative to his size i had ever seen. We were invited to his Jungle camp for More “Kopi” and BBQd bananas.
Antonio’s camp consisted of a hut made of a bamboo frame covered by plastic and was basically 2 platforms with a star fire in the center. I like it and felt comfortable there and would have enjoyed sleeping there for the evening if Tata  and Miguel had not made other plans.
After swapping news with Antonio and having a bit to eat we packed up and headed out, due to the amount of rain over the past few days it was important to head up the trail and make a river crossing before it was too strong to do so. Our Aeta friends said “big water come”(heavy rain) several times so heeding their advice, we shouldered our packs moved out at a fast pace up the trail.
The small stature of our Aeta friends belies their speed and agility in the forest, both Jungle wil and I keep in shape with regular running and mountain biking but on the jungle trail we had a difficult time keeping up with our guides, they walk fast but do not miss a single thing like useful plants, animal tracks, or signs of non Aeta in the forest. There is a major problem with Illegal Logging on Aeta lands and these guys mount regular patrols into the jungle to protect their property.
We seemed to climb and climb as we headed deeper into the jungle I cannot recall a single level trail, it was difficult going due to the mud and heavy rain, upon reaching the river we made the crossing without problems but it was evident that the water strength was building and it would soon be impossible to cross.
After a hike of several more hours we reached an area of the Aeta territory that was pretty far back in the woods, it was only about 4 pm but it was nearly dark under the jungle canopy. We set about constructing a jungle shelter and covered it with some blue tarps we had brought along.
Tata Kasoy and Miguel strung their Duyen or Hammocks as we call them and set up their rain protection made from grain sacks sewn together, it was great to see the clever use of available materials and it is interesting to note that Miguel and Tata always wear the Head lamps we gave them even when it is not dark. I asked them about this practice and was told it is so they are always ready.
it is a good thing they had the head lamps because by the time we made camp, built a fire and settled in for the evening it was full dark even though it was only about 5 pm. We had a good evening, chatting and singing(oldies and filipino songs) away the hours, dining on corned beef, boiled bananas, bamboo rice, “kopi” and Emperador brandy.
Jungle Wil and I had brought along a spice kit that contained tobasco, rock salt, garlic, and sugar. It was a big his as well as the Hands of tobacco we brought along, Miguel rolled cigarettes and smoked away the hours while Tata liked to chew. I chewed a bit of tobacco myself while sipping brandy.
It was an excellent to be back in the forest again with my 3 friends enjoying their company. We were drinking and singing while sitting around a small circle of light in a remote forest; it is a scene that has been played out a billion or more times throughout the history of mankind Im sure.
Being there at that time in that location with my 3 good friends is a memory I will always cherish and I am looking forward to being able to return to the jungle for more adventures.
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KNIVES OF ASIA

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During my travels around the world I have had the privilege of using many different types of knives made locally by the folks who actually use them. Some are beautiful and show artistic talent as well as clever use of available materials, others are made for pure function, no frills. Here are photos of some knives I have used and collected in far off places like Nepal, Philippines, Thailand, Indonesia, and one small dagger from The Sudan.

sudan dagger
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Toms thoughts on Knives

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THERE are many schools of thought on the types of knives/ Axes/hatchets/ and Tomahawks to use in the outdoors. Some people like expensive blades, some are frugal and don’t want to spend too much on a knife. I tend to be on the frugal side. My personal favorite knives are any type of Swiss Army Knife, that has a scissors and a saw. And my faithful old Green River knife, “Old Butch” .
I picked up “OB” In a junk shop in Moab ,Utah for $6.00 back in 1989 and have been carrying it ever since. A lot of folks like the Mora knives from Sweden, I dont really care for them due to the fact the handles and blades tend to break under normal use, and especially in the cold.

I have been all over the world and spent time with many native peoples and have seen knives made from old saw blades , punched out of an old army mess kit, or made from bearings and leaf springs from old trucks.  I have studied knife making and blacksmithing in Thailand, Nepal and The Philippines and have seen many skilled knife and tool makers, But a lot of these craftsmen are not skilled in the use of the blades they make – some are, but not all.

My conclusion is that its not the tool or knife, or how much it costs, or the maker, but your familiarity and skill with it . That takes practice.

For a while now I have been considering a replacement for my veteran Green River Knife “Ol’ Butch”. I ambled my way over to Trapper Jon’s Knife Shop in Sierra Vista, Arizona to visit Jon for a while and take a look at all the knives he has on offer in his shop.

I was a little shocked and amazed at all of the “Survival Knives” that there are out there in the world. There were numerous Xb15/commandosurvival/navySEAL/bushcraft knives in Jon’s shop but all of this techno new age gear tends to get on my nerves a bit. I seem to always gravitate to the older style knives like the “Old Hickory”, Case and of course the knives by Green River Forge.

The prices for the majority of these techno blades was to say the least – shocking to this old drifter. There is no way I would pay $300.00 for a knife. I have been using my GRK  since 1989, I bought it in a shop in Moab, Utah for $6.00, this knife has been my constant companion for all of my wilderness adventures and numerous trips around the world. I borrowed the name for my knife from Big Foot Wallace the famous Texas Ranger and Scout from the early days of Texas history. Mr. Wallace had some colorful names for his animals and equipment.

Back when I was working as a wilderness guide/instructor it seemed to me that all wilderness instructors to include those at the Boulder Outdoor survival School (B.O.S.S.) used the Green River knife. And, if I remember correctly Cody AKA “the aboriginal” wore one also. Now, I greatly admire and respect Mors Kochanski as a teacher, writer and wilderness Bum but, I credit (or blame) Mors for introducing the Mora knife to the American survival community.  Mors showed up at the B.O.S.S. Sponsored Rabbit stick rendezvous in Rexburg, Idaho back in 1990 with a Mora slung around his neck. The next thing you know all of the B.O.S.S. Guys and gals were wearing one also. The Mora is a good knife for certain applications but cannot compete with a GRK.

While working as the Lead Survival and Impact Instructor at a Wilderness therapy program in Utah, I had to luck to spend a lot of time in the field, either with the youth or in my off duty time with some like-minded staff. On one such outing with the youth we were crossing the desert to a place call “Bloody Hands Gap” (due to the red painted hand prints under an overhang in the gap between the rocks), I found a dead horse and skinned out a good sized chunk of hide and took some sinews from the tendons. The hide I scraped and dried into raw hide then soaked it and sewed it around “Ol’ Butch” to make the sheath. Once it had dried the hide made a custom fit on the handle and blade. I have been using this same sheath almost as long as I have had the knife. I keep a saddle makers needle stuck into the stitching on the back of the sheath for making emergency repairs on my gear – that is if I’m not in Agave country.

I wear my knife slung around my neck and inside my shirt depending on if I’m hiking or riding a horse or mule. The wearing of a neck knife is not a recent idea invented by the internet GURUs, it has been around for centuries and was the primary way of wearing a knife for most native Americans. I used a leather strap at first but those soon rot from sweat etc. I now use a narrow piece of webbing held in place with 2 short pieces of para cord (550 to you sticklers). The webbing was found in the desert south of the Chiricahua mountains of Arizona in an illegal alien lay up site, the 550, I got from the dumpster on the army base.

The handle of my old knife appears to be Walnut wood, Back in those days, as in today, I have been using the handle as a socket for my Bow and Drill fire sets. I usually carry 2 or 3 tinder bundles, and a spindle or two with me in my pack, if need be, ill make a board and bow. String can be made from a number of sources.

I have read that people frown on using the handle for a B&D socket because it ruins the handle…haha, I have been doing it for 23 years now and it is still serviceable and will take me down the trail a bit further, I’m sure!

People who make statements like that are most likely the arm chair outdoors men who only play at survival or wilderness subjects and follow the video survival “Gurus” I have been seeing lately.
I do very little in the way of maintenance on this old knife other than oiling the blade with what ever I can find to oil it with. Recently in Thailand, I used the fat from some cooked chicken skin to grease up both the sheath and the blade.

I have used the back of the blade as a striker for making flint and steel fires and use either old pieces of charcoal from a cold fire pit or some horse hoof fungus to catch the spark. The stones I just keep an eye out for as I hike, my favorite stone to use though is petrified wood but the Utah flint is excellent stuff as is the Mississippi river chert.

To sharpen my knife I usually use the river stone method taught to my by my Aeta Negrito friend in the Philippines, it works well and makes carrying a stone unnecessary, you simply pick up one in the creek bottom. While in Thailand I watched my lady friend sharpen my jungle knife on a large chunk of coral in the front yard of her house, apparently her family has been using this stone to sharpen all manner of edged tools for several generations.

I’ll be taking two knives on my next trek, a Swiss army knife and “Ol’ Butch”. I like to keep it simple and uncomplicated. From what I have read and seen it looks like folks now a days are really into survival but seem to be more gear oriented then skill oriented. To me that is sad – The more you know in your head the less you need to carry on your back. It is my hope that at least a few of the more hardy and independent thinking true adventurers out there will “cut” the gear umbilical cord which tethers them to society, grab their favorite knife and hit the trail.

In closing, Ill paraphrase Dick Summers, Mountain man in the book “The Way West” by A.B. Guthrie – “I can travel from hell to breakfast with nothing but a rifle and a good horse, and get there by suppertime without the horse” .

Substitute the rifle for a knife and the horse for your own feet and hit the trail, practice skills, live the wilderness life and be the first you!

When I’m out and about in the woods, mountains or deserts of the world I usually carry only 4 knives;
tomahawks knives
My old Green River Butcher knife,Any type of Swiss Army Knife with a Saw and two cutting Blades,Old timer Whittling Knife, for making spoons or what ever I may need,Case “Hobo” with detachable Spoon and Fork.

These knives have served me well and I find it unnecessary to carry more. My personal knife collection is pretty small,  maybe 20 or so but they are all the same type. I go for function and not flash, opting for what works instead of what looks good. I’d never pay big bucks for a blade, too me that is silly and a waste of your money. I do appreciate the beauty of the custom made knives though.
Occasionally I’ll have to get a jungle knife or machete depending on where I am in the world. There is no real difference between those two blades except location and local lingo.

Also, I never carry a sharpening stone or steel in the field. I witnesses numerous Filipino and Thai Jungle guides sharpening knives with just a river stone, I paid attention to them and can now sharpen my own blades fairly well with the “jungle river stone method”

A word on hatchets , Axes and Tomahawks;
When in the Maine northwoods, I always have an axe, generally a 2 pound Snow and Neally . Also have some tomahawks and hatchets around for small jobs.  My good friend “Trailhawk” in the Philippines carries a cool looking little hawk made by a local blacksmith in Cebu.
Once in Thailand, mountain blacksmithing mentor Saijung Kaipo made me a tomahawk looking hatchet in less that 2 hours, complete with handle. Saijung reference was a drawing I made in the sand. The end result was a sturdy “Hawk” that was light and easy to use.
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Tom in Sri lanka – a true Tomahawk adventure

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“The only thing that makes life worth living is the possibility of experiencing now and then a perfect moment. And perhaps even more than that, it’s having the ability to recall such moments in their totality, to contemplate them like jewels.”
~ Paul Bowles

The Ocean waves slam against the sea wall just a few feet outside the windows of my hotel. There is a clap of thunder and lightning brightens the sky. For most of the night I have been drinking Arak, a distilled coconut alcohol. I look out my window and In the distance through my blue alcoholic haze, I see nothing but darkness. I’m in Colombo, Sri Lanka, formerly known as Celon.

A couple years ago when I was working in Kuwait I had a 4 day weekend and sure as hell didn’t want to waste my time by staying in Kuwait. The country of Kuwait is the most boring place I have ever lived and it seems that everything is illegal.I hopped on the next thing smoking outta there and that was a Plane to Colombo Sri Lanka. It took about 4 hours to fly from Kuwait City to Columbo.

I passed through the customs check without incident, walked outside was immediately accosted by several taxi drivers claiming to have the “Best taxi in Colombo”. I picked a quiet and unassuming looking driver that was standing just outside the swarm of other drivers.

His name was (is) Sunil, turns out I made a good choice, I told him I needed to go to the best 5 star hotel in Colombo. He dropped me off in front of the “Celon Continental Hotel Columbo”, I thanked the man, paid him his fee plus a tip, then asked him to wait while I checked in. He agreed so I slipped him a few extra rupees for the wait.

I proceeded to check in, drop off my bag, grabbed my camera then hit the door. Sunil was still waiting and I hopped in to the Taxi. We headed out, I asked Sunil his rate for a 1 hour tour of the city, I cannot remember the exact fee but by western standards it was a ridiculously low fee. It is a practice of mine to hire a local guide whenever I’m in a foreign city/country for the 1st time, so far it has worked out well. As luck would have it Sunil was a Local guide also and had a cousin with a van and, for a fee, we could tour the countryside the next day if I was interested.

We settled on a fee for a guided tour which would include the town of Kandi, the Botanical gardens, an Herb Farm, a tea plantation, and an elephant farm. Sounded cool. Standing outside my hotel the next morning at the appointed time, sipping an excellent cup of Celon tea I was surprised to see Sunil and his cousin arrive on time!

In most 3rd world countries they are habitually late. For instance, if a shop opens at 10 am, they show up around 10:20 or so, drink tea, chat with friends then finally open the doors at say just before 11.
Being from the west I find their casual approach to time a little annoying but it is something you have to deal with if you want to live in Asia. It is the same in Singapore, Philippines, Thailand etc. similar to the “manana” attitude of the Mexicans or “Rez time” in the USA. Anyhoo, we proceeded out of town and up into the mountains toward the town of Kandi. We were driving along for about 15 minutes or so when I spied a Billboard advertising “Tomahawk brand mountain bikes”, we pulled over so I could snap a pic.

Along the road were many young ladies all dress in RED selling Cashews, I also saw Local men with birds and forest animals for sale. Once, I saw a guy with several porcupines for sale, I didn’t ask why but I’m assuming they are a food source. We plodded along and stopped at the agreed on places, my favorite being the Botanical Gardens outside Kandi. I was informed by Sunil that the film “Bridge on the river Kwai” was filmed at the gardens and along the local river – kinda cool, it’s one of my favorite old movies.

The Tea plantation was interesting, I did the entire tour, sampled all of the teas, bought 1/2 a kilo of fresh tea, took some pics etc. We had been touring the whole day and it was about a 6 hour drive back to my hotel so we agreed to head back. The entire day of exploration cost me about $30.00 and it included my guide’s fee, lunch, beer, tips, tea etc. a pretty good deal.

When I arrived back at the Celon Continental I partook of the excellent dinner buffet, and took in the Fashion show at the hotel. I grabbed a brewski and ambled across the street to the beach, I sat on some rocks in the darkness, drank my beer and listened to the surf breaking on the rocks.
It had been a great holiday weekend so far the only thing I was dreading was going back to Kuwait.

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Buffalo in New Mexico

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Back in April of ’05 I had just returned to Arizona after being gone for a year working in the tiny Middle Eastern country of Qatar.
The company I worked for was the 2nd worst employer I have ever had. Anyway, being back in the USA I tend to get bored quickly so I began to look for something to do.
I was riding my mountain bike around town and saw a 1999 blazer for sale. I bought the thing then drove it to my storage locker. I broke a bottle of San Miguel beer over the hood then Dubbed it “war pony” after the car in the movie “Pow wow Highway”, then loaded it down with guns and gear. I took both wheels off of my mountain bike and managed to cram it in the “War Pony” also.
My old Friend Alan managed an Organic Beef ranch along the Canadian river, near wagon mound New Mexico. I decided to Head over to his place first to see what was going on. Besides, My favorite riding Mule, Arlene was at his place and I wanted to see her again. She was the best mule to ever walk a trail.
Wagon mound is about 600 miles or so from Douglas, Arizona. I headed north out of Douglas toward Rodeo New Mexico, then made a right on HWY #9 going toward Columbus, NM.
The town of Columbus has the distinction of being the only town in the USA invaded by poncho Villa back in the day. I don’t know if that is true or not because I heard stories in Douglas of how Poncho would cause trouble on the North side of the border in that town also. At the Gadsden Hotel in Douglas you can see where some chunks have been knocked out of the marble steps, I was told this happened when Poncho Villa rode his horse into the Hotel and up the stairs to the 2nd floor. True or not, I can’t say, but that is the local legend.
I continued to drive east through the towns of Hachita and Animas. It is interesting to note that the Apache Indians were still raiding ranches in this area until the late 1930’s, they had a stronghold in the Jaguar mountains of Mexico about 60 miles south of Douglas, Arizona near the Mexican town of Nacori Chico in Sonora.
You can find more info about the Apaches in the book They never surrendered: Broncho Apaches of the sierra madre By: Douglas V. Meed. you can find it on Amazon or at your local library.Once I got to Columbus I stopped at the poncho villa state park , I find it funny that New Mexico has a park dedicated to the Guy who shot up the southern end of their state for years….From Columbus, I headed north toward Deming on HWY 11 and passed through that town then took the Hatch cut off (HWY 26) which will take you to interstate 25 north.
I continued north on the interstate to Santa fe then from there got on HWY 68 heading toward Taos.Taos is another town in the western USA that has a wonderful history but was over run by tourists and artist over the years and is now like tombstone Arizona, a very obvious, over priced tourist town.
I spent a lot of time around Taos and the Hondo river near Valdez, and the Bull of the woods area. It is a beautiful place and gives you access to Wheeler peak, the highest point in New Mexico. I love that area, If I was to ever live full time in the USA, Taos would be at the top of my list of locations.
The Kit Carson Museum in Taos is worth the 5 buck entry fee, lots of cool stuff there. Upon my arrival in Taos I parked my blazer in the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant then ambled over to the central plaza for a bite to eat and a cup of Joe.
My intent was to head to the Bull of the woods trail head at the Taos ski area and camp for the night. I had the Idea to hike to the top of Wheeler peak(13,161′) the highest point in new Mexico.
I headed out of town toward Valdez and the Hondo river area en route to the Ski Basin. Along the way I picked up a hitch hiker who went by the name of Linjon, he said he was a Ute from Utah and he came to New Mexico to work for the summer. He was a pretty cool cat, and sporting a six pack of Schlitz “tall boys”, I wasnt in the beer drinking mood, but , it didnt take Linjon more than 5 seconds to crack open a “Tall boy” and pass it to me asking “Wanna beer?”.
I dropped Linjon off at the ski area and drove off to park my car in the Shade of some aspen trees. Next I hit the woods and did a quick scout to see what was about. Later on in the evening, Linjon came back to my camp with an arm load of Budweiser beer so I helped him drink a few then hit the sack.
The next morning it was a cool 48F when I hit the Wheeler peak trail, it was fairly steep and I didnt see another person until closer to the top of the mountain. I was surprised at how easy it was for me to ascend wheeler, I thought after being in the middle east at sea level for a year it would be difficult, but it was not so.
It was an uneventful hike to the top I did spy some Big horn sheep and a few antelope , I took a few pics at the top of wheeler then started to descend the trail I had taken up, but then got the idea to bushwhack back – Big mistake!! hahaha, I hit some horrible rock slide areas, snow, very steep slopes and soon regretted the folly of my decision to bushwhack back.
It in fact took me longer to descend then it did to get to the top!
Plus side? – great scenery, no people, trash or noise, and plenty of snow melt for water. I had a good time on that hike and arrived safely back at my truck in due time. I hopped in my truck then drove down to the hondo river and set up camp for the night.
The next morning I headed up HWY 64 toward Cimmeron and Raton, I knew Ted Turner had bought a bunch of Land near the Valle Vidal wilderness and put Buffalo in there , something like 3000 head. That is Way to many Buffalo for that area, but, what the heck if you got money you can do pretty much what you want.
My plan was to get some pics of them if possible, Not far up the road I spied a huge Buffalo Bull standing about 50 meters from the road inside the fence.
I pulled over, whipped out my camera and walked up to the Gate – about that time the old Bull charged the gate and gave it a decent head butt! There was a loud bang, lots of dust and some snotting(by him) and Farting(by me) . That kinda spooked me a little but I managed to get a pictures of him.
In the distance I could see other Buffalo on both sides of the road, Hopping back in my Blazer I headed up there to get some more pictures. It was a beautiful sunny ,cool day and I really enjoyed being there and seeing those Buffalo. I was amazed at the amount of sound a sizable herd can make. Back in the days when Millions of these animals roamed the American west , it must have been deafening to ride into a herd on a hunt.
And in addition, after seeing 1st hand the power and speed of the great beasts I can appreciate the Native American buffalo hunters and how they rode into a herd bareback, shooting them with a bow and arrows. That took Guts. Anyhoo, it was getting late so I hopped into the Blazer and headed up the road looking for another adventure.
Up the road a ways I picked up a hitch hiker named Chris, he definatly had the “Grunge thing” down pat, Chris told me he was going to the rainbow gathering , and was going to sell the jewelry he makes for cash to fund what ever supplies he needs. He was an interesting rascal for a “Hippy Backpacker”. He loved to smoke, either tobacco or weed, and if he wasn’t smoking one, he was smoking the other. In the 2 days we were together, I never saw him NOT smoking. I believe he actually breathed more smoke the O2.
I asked Chris if he wanted to be dropped off where I turned to head into the Valle Vidal, or come along and spend the night in the wilderness area. He decided to come along and check it out. We drove the 26 or so miles back to the wilderness area, then found a decent place to camp not far off the main road. I simply pulled the blazer in and used it to sleep in, Chris set up his tent. We built a fire, cooked some grub, drank beer,sang songs, swapped war stories, and generally had a good time, All the while, Chris smoked weed and ciggies to his hearts content.
The next morning we made Montana guides coffee, hiked around a bit then headed out. I didn’t want to drop Chris off in the middle of nowhere so, I took him up to Raton and dropped him off at the interstate after loading him down with some food and water. He wasn’t a bad dude for a Hippy. I swung south on I25 toward Las Vegas, NM, and Wagon Mound. I had little difficulty locating my friend Alan at his ranch on the Canadian river. As luck would have it, Al was saddling up to go check on the cattle and asked me to come along. I was privileged to ride “Chief” a 17 hands tall tobiyano paint, he was one of my favorite horses in Alan’s remuda.
as we mounted up Als horse began to buck, he rode that hoss and bucked him out, spurring the shit out of him until he settled down. Alan and me are the same age, but, I dont know if I could have bucked out that horse. I would have been thrown clear for sure, but ol’ Al stuck to the saddle like a burr on a wool blanket..
We rode out to check the live stock, and as we rode other horses and Mules came along and I saw Arlene out in the field, I gave her a whistle – the one I always used to call her in the past. Her head shot up, she looked my way, and began to trot towards chief and me. I dismounted, and threw my arms around the old girls neck, and gave her a hug. it was good to see her. she was a savvy old gal, and brought me through some tough country, day and night one her own, with me as basically baggage. I will admit, I had a tear in my eye….
She nudged my pocket , I dont know how she knew I had them, but I dug out the peanut butter flavored granola bars I brought for her, peeled back the wrappers and let her munch away.
It was good to see her again ,Ill never forget her. And people who think animals dont remember, of have feelings for people are just wrong, very wrong. Alan told me she went blind in one eye so he retired her to pasture. It is good, she earned it.
We found the cattle, and cut out one sick looking cow then drove her back to the stock pen. Al doctored her up a bit, then threw out some hay and supplemental feed. We headed to the barn and unsaddled the horses. After stowing the tack we went to the house and broke out some of the Organic beef that Alan was selling. We grilled it up outside over a fire of Oak and juniper wood we dragged up. It was good beef, I just sprinkled mine with a little salt and knawed on it Apache style. After a while Alan broke out some cheap whisky he had in the house, and we proceeded to do our best to polish off the bottle. What a good time! Just 2 dudes, drinking whisky, searing beef over a fire ,and swapping war stories in one of the prettiest places in the South West USA.
The Next day , we went out to and loaded two beeves Alan had cut out for slaughter. We drove them to the slaughter house for processing then went into Santa fe to make deliveries of Beef to the local organic markets and restaurants. It was good just to hang out, I basically just sat in the refer truck and did nothing while Al did all of the work. I know he had a hang over, because I had a massive one, it was enough to kill a draft mule.
After making deliveries we did some shopping, then headed back to the ranch. We sat around the fire swapping lies and drinking cheap whisky until the early hours of the morning. I was truely hurting the next day when I had to get up early and headed back to Arizona. Unfortunately, I had taken a job with a security company in Kosovo and had to return to the “Man world”. It was a long drive back to AZ, filled with much contemplation….there were several times I almost turned around and went back to New Mexico, but, I ended up driving back to Az, and flying out of Tucson, bound for Kosovo. It was a mistake on my part but, that it is another story.
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