On the outside

Back at it - finallly!

2012-01-23T06:03:00.000-08:00

Me at work!

My lack of posting has been primarily due to competing interests for my time: family, work, video, work, and more work seem to be winning out over my love of writing. This last week, while technically work related, was far from being a grind.

My friend and former boss, Jason Fimrite, had invited me on a junket to Sarasota to partake in a two day E-bootcamp. The e-bootcamp is the brainchild of Corey Perlman, an internet savvy marketer who has a lot of good advice for businesses looking to increase their presence on the web. Because the seminar is not highly technical, it is a great starting point for managers and those just venturing into the world of web-marketing.

The other thing great about the seminar was that it was held in Sarasota Florida. If one had to choose, say between Rainbow Lake in northern Alberta and Sarasota in south Florida, for a seminar location, I think the latter would win 99 times out of 3.

Via Toronto (not Viva Toronto)

The trip down was uneventful and as always, I got singled out in the screening process as a potential terrorist threat or Colombian drug lord. It’s the moustache I tell you. I am sure my picture, or one close to it, is in all the security training manuals and consequently when the security guards see me their eyes light up like kids who have just found out that there is a Santa Claus.

Anyways, after making my way through the gauntlet I made all my connections and soon found myself stepping off the plane into a warm Florida evening. Our hotel, the Hyatt, was just across from the airport and after dumping our bags we headed out to capture some of the high paced nightlife. We did not know at the time that Sarasota is known as “God’s waiting room” and is so called because of the fact that 99% of the winter population there were also present at the signing of the “Declaration of Independence.”

We did however, manage to find some excellent restaurants. We tried out some Peruvian and Mexican cuisine, skipped on a reportedly excellent Italian restaurant, and ended up in a nightclub called Ceviche. Ceviche is basically pickled fish and although not as good as gramma’s rollmops they are a very close second.

Ceviche served great food but more importantly served up some great entertainment. Cabal, is a five piece Latin/World band that rocks the place every time they play there. It’d be great to see them make their way up to the Roots and Blues festival in Salmon Arm as I’m sure they’d be a huge hit with that crowd.

But all was not just beer and hot Latin nightclubs. We did spend a lot of time learning about Search Engine Optimization and how to squeeze more mileage out of an internet site. Some of these techniques I’ll be putting to use for Jason’s newest company, Forensic Data Recovery Inc.. FDR is a reseller of the top forensic software and hardware out on the market now. And for those who don’t know, forensic software is the stuff you use to find out what was on a hard drive and when it was put there – even if it has been deleted.

I’ll be writing a lot more about FDR in the future as I’ll be working with Jason on some of the more interesting aspects of the business. By interesting I mean the going to jazz clubs and seminar in sub-tropical regions.
But a cold, grey, winter morning awaits and I must shovel a walk and head back to the salt mine.

A Cuckoo-Bee in my bonnet

2011-10-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

A Cuckoo-Bee

My blog posting has been spotty as of late but with good cause - again. I have been busy out in the field trying to get as much material captured before the long nights and short days of winter befall us.

One of the joys of coming back to my blog is that I then catch up on all of the other blogs I follow. Well worth the reading and following are these three blogs: Danial Neil - Language of trees (Danial is a gifted writer who words are worth a thousand pictures), Peter Sulzle - Peter Sulzle's Wildlife Photography Blog (Peter's pictures of wildlife are worth a thousand words), and Mel Rothenburger - The Armchair Mayor (Mel is begrudgingly one of the better mayors we have had. As I get older and more crotchety the more I agree with Mel).

But the reason I made this post is that I have recently come across a group of insects known as Cuckoo Bees. These bees behave like the Cuckoo and lay their eggs in another bee's nest and allow that parent to raise the young while they head off to the casino and enjoy life. I had always figured these insects to be some type of wasp, but no, they are in fact bees. The amazing thing about nature is that no matter how long you study and observe it - you will never scratch the surface of all its intricacies - something like trying to learn how the remote for your TV works!

Apparently not another cuckoo bee - but a striped hoverfly mimic

Not a good patient

2011-10-06T01:37:00.000-07:00

So it is1:24 in the a.m. and I am sitting in front of my computer. Not because I am particularly obsessed with writing, but because I am sick.

While those that know me, or have read more than three of my posting will nod in agreement and say "Yes, we've known that about you for a long time" I will hasten to counter with "Not that type of sick - I am really sick with a sore throat and the shivers."

I do not suffer well, or silently. That is why I have been banished from my own bed to wander the house like a lost soul looking for refuge wherever it might be. The kitchen, the TV, and the library offered little solace so I have ended up here in front of my computer seeking solace on the net.

I thought about tweeting my ailments but with five followers I figured the return on that expenditure of effort would be minimal. I could have posted the info on facebook but those types of posts are clearly designed for superficial condolences - no I needed a forum that could truly spell out the depths of my misery and in turn generate some real heartfelt emails of sympathy.

But alas and alack, the shivers have taken a hold of me again and I must go off to battle them instead of pounding out some prose that would capture the depth and project the magnitude of my despair and suffering.

Perhaps some late night "Family Guy" and a bottle of Nyquil will bring me around.

From this summer and happier times when I wasn't dying from this stoopid, stoopid sore throat!

Small Wonders

2011-09-16T18:31:00.000-07:00

So I know I haven't been posting much but that is because I am very lazy. No wait, what I meant to say is that I have had both hands broken while rescuing children from a burning orphanage. Yes, that was it. I am now typing this with a straw stuck in my left eye. It is slow and painful but for you my reader I would do almost anything.

I have compiled a little contest which I think is pretty cool and I will try to undertake it myself one of these days. The way it works is simple: Watch the following video and jot down the names of all 23 animals you see. These are little creatures so you may not know all of them. Jot down the ones you know and their taxonomic information (phylum,class, order, family, genus and species) and give yourself 10-60 points respectively for each correct entry. So the correct phylum gives you 10 while the correct species gives you 60 points (plus all of the other points you got while getting to the correct species). But if you get, say, the species wrong -you double that score and subtract it - so a wrong species is -120 but a wrong class is only -40.

I have not yet figured out what all the animals are but I have some of my best people working on it (that would be you my loyal readers). Please send me any info you have.

Take care and peace out!

Alive and well

2011-07-25T14:47:00.000-07:00

Oh it has been so long since I have put in the effort to peck out a few words for my blog that I hardly know where to start.

My absence from this forum was not planned but like so many things it was a result of a chain of circumstances. Snakes had to be chased. Trips had to be taken and then there was the matter of school and the alien abduction. Not that doesn't sound right, I think it was abduction by aliens.

I will try to post more now that the probes have been removed and my access to the internet has been restored to former levels.

What actually prompted my return was the following link

http://itunes.apple.com/ca/album/rounders-and-sinners/id450273809

Which, when clicked upon, will transport you to ITunes and Loyd Bishop's incredible presentation of the Rounders and Sinners Cowboy music CD.

If that doesn't float your boat you can check out my video below which shows all six species of snakes we have found in Kamloops - in between promoting Cowboy Music CDs, going to school, going to work and teleporting across the universe.

The Ant Hypothesis

2011-04-17T07:54:00.000-07:00

The astute reader will remember that last year I wrote about the number of ants on a Tennessee anthill (an oblique reference to The Loving Spoonful's big hit Nashville Cats). Well, I found such an anthill yesterday on my hike and I present it on the above video.

The question though, is: "How many ants?" Let's do the math.

Lots of little individuals make up a the collective

The picture above is 1680x920 giving a total area of 1,545,600 (pixels). I took a random square from the main photo of 295x239 (area: 70505), counted the number of ants (40 see below) and multiplied this by the size ratio of the two photos (1:21.93) to come up with 877 ants in the photo.

You should count 40 ants here (I looked for heads and assumed bodies would follow)

You can't tell from the photo but I would estimate that I was only seeing 1/10th of the colony at any one time - both because I think that would be accurate and because I know how to multiple by ten. So, this anthill I am guessing has 8,770 ants in it (plus or minus 7,500 ants).

The contest is still open to some bright young, or old, naturalist who can give me a more exacting estimate or way of counting the number of ants in one of these anthills.

Cowboy Coffeee?

2011-04-13T06:02:00.000-07:00

Was up early today, and wasted most of my morning on homework and workwork but did manage to get some productive time in on the net listening to some vintage Chuck Berry while searching through my vast library of photos.

Whenever I need to go to my "happy place" I quite enjoy randomly flipping through the 50K plus images I have and remembering the trips associated with the pics. Here I had a big pot of cowboy coffee going while camped out along the Graham River. We were building a spike camp and spent an enjoyable ten days swinging hammers, swatting mosquitoes and generally enjoying the life of a layabout woodsman.

While living in the northern Rockies is great for short stretches, I could see where it could substantially shorten one's life and not just from the many pitfalls associated with living with large carnivores outside your tent, but more likely from drinking the vile brew contained within the pot pictured above.

Must dash off to work now. Two more TESL classes and I'm through. My first act of freedom will be to get back to treating this blog with the respect it deserves. Til then, my friends, shalom.

Help - I'm being held against my will in reality!!

2011-04-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

"It has been many moons since I lasted posted," sighed Running Diatribe, as he leaned against the wall of his tee-pee and stared into the now dying embers of the fire.

And so it is with me. I do apologize to my follower(s) but I have been felled by a horrible disease called life. Lately "life" has required me to attend school and put in my hours at work. Don't get me wrong, both activities are immensely rewarding on their own, but together they are making for a tough slog for this old cowboy.

I did get out for a quick hike today with my sister-in-law, my daughter and her beau. We took a hike out to see the owls of Kenna Cartwright Park - in fact were hoping to see the young of the year. But none have appeared yet.

Of greater note was the story my brother passed on - and that was that he had seen the alligator lizards already this year. Now the inner-me says to treat any such announcement from any of my siblings with a great deal of skepticism. But the wishful hoping-its-really-spring me says "Ya-hoo!" Consequently I will be heading off to the secret Alligator Lizard bluffs tomorrow in hopes of getting some really good shots.

If nothing else it will give me reason - if not time - to post again.

Peace out.

PS - try changing my address to frankritcey.blogspot.com\view\flipcard

Beat like a rented mule

2011-03-19T09:42:00.000-07:00

Kristyn Harris - A real rising star

So, yes it has been a while since I posted, but as always I have a good excuse. I have been busy.

Last weekend I was tied up with performing at the 15th Annual Cowboy Festival in Kamloops, B.C. I was performing in what they call the Rising Star showcase. While rising star might adequately describe some of my fellow performers, in my case it should have been called "the not even a hope-in-hell competition."

I jest, of course. I had a great time even though I was competing against some very talented folks. We gave three performances over Friday and Saturday and were judged at each performance and then the top three in both poetry and singing went on to the main stage event on Sunday. Due to a mix up in the adding of scores (I am sure) I ended up on the main stage with 5 very good performers.

The kid, Jayden Stafford, who won the poetry was some precocious 9 year old who was reciting the poetry of Brian Salmond. The combination of the kid's delivery and Brian's poems made him a crowd favourite and I was quite content to use the opportunity to make 300 people I didn't know listen to some of my poems and stories. The fact that our local radio station, Country 103, put up $2,000 in prize money made the experience even more enjoyable and I walked away with some impressive folding money in my pockets for being a runner-up. Country 103 is a real strong supporter of cowboy and country music in our town and my hat is tipped to them.

The singing part of the competition was very close and again, it was youth and talent that took the top spot. Folks would do well to keep an eye out for Kristyn Harris a teen-aged Texan fireball that has an upbeat personality and a great grasp of Texas-swing.

Apart from inflicting my poetry on folks I have been busy with my TESL course and working for a living. Tomorrow with favourable weather I will be out making movies.

Who - who's there?

2011-03-06T10:42:00.000-08:00

Just a real quick post today as I am up to the proverbial armpits in alligators. This week will be the "perfect storm" in terms of projects for yours truly.

First I have about 6 zillion assignments due for my TESL classes. Next I have two sets of lesson plans to prepare and deliver for the ESL class I am teaching. Then, I have a huge stack of applications on my desk to process at work. Adding to the stress, the Cowboy festival kicks off on Friday and I am thinking of changing my set which is probably a very bad idea at this pint. Finally, Lisa and Nick will be by for supper tonight and I have to get some ribs in the oven and all of the other fixins that go with a sunday supper. Looks like I won't be getting off to the workshop at TRU that I was hoping to attend.

So why have I had time to hike around Kenna Cartwright Park, and to go out to Tranquille taking video of the waxwings? Why? That's a very good question. Maybe I know that no one has ever died, wishing they had spent more time at work.

Git along doggies

2011-03-02T07:09:00.000-08:00

The 15th annual B.C. Cowboy festival is about to descend upon Kamloops and I are in it. I thought it might be a bit of a stretch losing all of that fine grammar I were taught at the university but apparently, at least according to my profs, I was doing a very good job of masking any grammar that I had picked up.

Fortunately, aficionados of cowboy doggerel are not as discerning. And it is for those that I post the following:

The hundred dollar shirt

I could’a spent the money

on booze or girls that flirt

But there’s nothing like the feeling

Of a hundred dollar shirt

The girls will often leave ya

And the booze just makes you hurt

But you’ll never be mistreated

By a hundred dollar shirt

Oh, I could’ve paid the feed bill,

Or squared up with the vet

But the smell of fresh pressed cotton

Why a fellow can’t forget

With its brocade and its buttons

Why it’s better than dessert

And I’m prouder than a peacock

In my hundred dollar shirt

So when you’re feeling beaten

Whipped by life’s relentless quirt

You’ll find the perfect pick-me-up

Is a hundred dollar shirt

Bright and gaily coloured

Neatly pressed right off the rack

More like a million dollars

You got hanging on your back

And when my race is over

And they lay me in the dirt

You’ll surely see me smiling

In my hundred dollar shirt

Summertime and the living is easy

2011-02-26T12:08:00.000-08:00

I really should have been studying my grammar (a present perfect progressive structure) but instead I was flipping through (past progressive) old videos and had come across (past perfect) this one of a deer that Peter and I were doing a sneak on (present progressive). Or maybe that was "we were snucking on" - like I said, perhaps I should have been studying a bit more seriously.

Anyhow it made me think of how much I love summer, and how I wish it were back.

For summery pictures you can go check out Peter's Gallery at http://petersulzle.zenfolio.com and then you too can yearn for summer. Unless of course you are reading this in July in which case the crispness of a February morning is what you will be pining for.

Attack of the howler monkeys and deep philosophical questions

2011-02-24T06:40:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know they are not howler monkeys, but when you slow down the video the results are howler monkey-like. I just had to share this as I find it amazing to watch wildlife in a different time frame.

Our perceptions of time are fixed by our abilities to discern discreet events in our day-to-day life. For all we know, time may appear much differently to an animal with faster reflexes and keener eyes. Or what of the rock or mountain that experiences time on a geological scale. Think on that the next time you plunk your butt down on a boulder that has been watching the earth unfurl for the last million years or so.

Okay, before I get too much grief for mentioning that maybe rocks experience time in a manner different to us we must keep an open mind. I mean, if the latest crop of politicians want us to believe that voting for them will in any way change our lot in life then I can assign sentient qualities to rocks.

Ram Slam

2011-02-20T07:50:00.000-08:00

Well I said on my last post that I was wishing for something worthwhile to post today and that wish has apparently come true.

On my way out to Tranquille I stopped to watch the sheep as they were grazing along the hillside above the tracks. I had just set up my camera when two of the younger rams (about 6-7 years of age) started bashing heads.

As I watched the animals square off it became apparent that this wasn't just an isolated incident but a good proportion of the herd was taking part. The crash of the horns could be heard coming from distant rocky slopes, hidden gullies and fortuitously, right in front of me.

Watch the last part of the clip and it sounds like a single crash, but when I slow it down you can hear the two distinct sounds made when first one set of horns collide and then the next.

All in all a great day. I am heading out again today to see what I can capture.

A new job!

2011-02-18T06:35:00.000-08:00

A pair of black bears

So today will mark the end of my first week as the guy sitting in the office that has the title of Provincial Coordinator, Bear Aware Program. The job is great, at least I think/hope it will be great as right now all I am doing is trying to get enough background information on the process that I don't shoot myself in the foot the first time I am asked a question of any importance.

The mission of Bear Aware is to reduce the number of bear-human conflicts in communities through education, innovation and cooperation. So the focus is on education and it is amazing how effective the process is. I don't know yet how we get all the bears to sit still in class but I am wiling to give it a go.

I have a great office and as I mentioned the other day it is right next to where my buddy Gerry works so that is an extra bonus. Additionally my friend Pat works just down the street at Pro-Video so I should never be at a loss for coffee or walking partners.

But as much as I love my new job I am even more excited about the return of the sun. Tomorrow is supposed to be bright and crisp so I will make up for a week of no filming and hopefully have something worthwhile to post here by Monday.

Enjoy the weekend!

Rode hard and put away wet

2011-02-17T07:34:00.000-08:00

Frank - in Arabic (I hope)

Yesterday I learned that this "working for a living" thing is not all that it is cracked up to be. Now I must remain vague at this point to as to the particulars of my new job but let me tell you I have learned to say "Do you want fries with that" in a particularly convincing manner.

No, I do jest. My new job is pretty much a dream job for me and I am sure it will be a pretty good fit. Once all of the protocols have been addressed that go with a job like this I will be sharing the particulars with all six of you that are now following my blog.

But getting back to my "dies horrendus" I can, and will, go into the particulars of that.

The day started early, about 2:30 in the a.m. early. I had eaten late and like Ebeneezer Scrooge in the Christmas Carol I was fighting indigestion caused by a piece of cheese or some other irritant. Being awake and, realizing that three of my three school assignments that were due were not yet finished, I stumbled down to the computer to complete the tasks.

Some of my most brilliant work is done in the wee hours of the morning, but my muse had slept late this particular morning and I struggled through all of the assignments.

I sent off the assignments, slept through breakfast (which was hard as I was also cooking breakfast) and then forced myself out through the door and off to work.

I think I will have to instigate some of the Swedish protocols around stretching breaks, coffee breaks and generally getting up out of your chair breaks if I am to survive in an office atmosphere. Fortunately, my friend Gerry has an office nearby and we get to meet for coffee and plan where we will build our next fort. Gerry and I have known each other since grade three and we started out as friends by building forts together and thought "why change a good thing" and have been building forts ever since. More on the fort building later.

Work was over and I rushed back home, changed, grabbed my books and headed off to T.R.U. where I had to teach an ESL class about the exciting world of adverbs of frequency.

Sometimes I never often get the words right usually. The lesson went something like that before it started to go downhill. Despite my bumblings the students seemed to enjoy the lesson and all gave me a glowing review on the evaluation that they had to complete at the end of the class.

Then quickly on to a 50 minute dissertation on Silence and learning. I think it had something to do with the idea that a real cowboy never passes on the opportunity to say nothing. Halfway through the class the lack of sleep was catching up with me and it was all I could do to remain conscious.

The next class was our two hour grammar class which I truly enjoy but this day proved to be my Waterloo. My classmates and I were each given 7 minutes to review a verb tense with the rest of the class. Everyone else brought Powerpoint presentations, laser light shows, fog machines, and one women was setting up a trapeze and had some guy from Cirque du soliel teaching us about future tenses. I had a piece of a chalk and a shakey understanding at best of the concept. It was probably my single-most disappointing moment of my learning career.

After my less than stellar performance one of my more compassionate classmates said "You look horrible - maybe you should get some rest!"

I concurred, went home and went to bed.

The week can only improve.

(Oh, and the picture at the top of the blog - one of my student's had my name printed in Arabic for me, I am pretty sure it is Frank but I'd better check that it isn't a part of a horse's anatomy)

Fish on!

2011-02-12T21:56:00.000-08:00

I was going through my video collection when I came across this clip from quite a number of years back and thought I should post if for my good friend Robert (and when you say Robert please say it as it supposed to be pronounced in French and not as in English or as in my middle name.)

Robert is a Clearwater-ite with an impressive list of credentials when it comes to anything to do with the great outdoors. He is an accomplished heli-ski guide and one of the top kayakers in the universe. He even managed to navigate the lower Clearwater river with me in the front of a two person kayak. When he is not out performing various acts of adventure daring-do he runs a gym, teaches, and runs a river rafting company. I get tired just listing all of the stuff he does.

Robert and I were talking one day and he mentioned how he would like to take his son Robson out on a fishing trip but didn't know of a good lake nearby. I knew of the perfect lake and since I knew Robert also had a canoe and could carry it, all of gear, and our lunches I thought it would be a great idea to let him in on my secret lake.

The trip was one of those great fall days when everything went just right and Robson got to slay the fish in grand style. This was definitely a catch and release into the frying pan type of trip and although we released as many as we caught we did end up with a pretty healthy stringer of fish.

The only item of note for the day was the fact that we got caught up in one of the most spectacular lightning storms of my life. We were forced off the lake and had to take shelter under some smallish trees. Marble sized hail pelted the earth and the skies were torn asunder. Lightning bolts danced across the ridge we were on as the gods vented their full and mighty wrath on the forest. Then, like the fickle humour of a latin lover, the violence was gone, the sun returned and we were left to finish our day of paddling around the lake and hauling in rainbow after rainbow.

Quick I need a rhyme for horse!!

2011-02-07T17:00:00.000-08:00

So once again my hands are quicker than my brain. I had come across the BC Cowboy Heritage Society website and thought - hey I should enter that poetry competition again. Before you could say "dog-dieing and girl crying" I had signed up for the event.

Shortly thereafter I looked at the website to see who else had also signed up. I had recognized a few of the names but the entry that generated the most fear was some young fresh faced kid who looks about 8 years old. There was a rule in Vaudeville and that was to never follow an act with a kid and not to work with monkeys. I don't know about the latter but I definitely know about the former.

The previous year when I had entered the poetry competition there were thankfully, no junior combatants. In the musical category though there was one pint-sized singer who was not only cute-as-a-button but also an incredibly talented singer. She took home all of the hardware along with a thousand dollars to tuck in her jeans. I see she is also retunring to the festival as a main stage performer.

So now I am hoping the young poet that I will be expected to perform alongside comes down with some childhood affliction like mumps or chicken pox. Perhaps I'll get lucky and he'll be made to stay after school on the day of the festival and he just won't show up.

Lacking an effective hex to put on my competitors I may have to break down and write some really good cowboy poems. That or perhaps I can catch the end of the Star Trek marathon. Live long and prosper!!

Bathtime for Bonzo

2011-02-06T09:33:00.000-08:00

Or was that "Bedtime for Bonzo", you remember, the old Ronald Reagan movie. But I digress because this post has absolutely nothing to do with past US presidents, or present US presidents for that matter, but I did think the title did offer a unique segue to this short clip I had composed of a chukar bathing in a dust bath.

Chukar, even though they possess an uropygial gland, still like to get a good dust bath in whenever possible. The uropygial gland as you may well remember from Biology 350 is the gland that birds use the oil from to preen themselves with. Some birds don't possess this gland nor do humans and hence our need for Brylcreem and other stylish hair gels.

Anyhow, I wanted to post this short video as I have been busy with the books and preparing for a job interview instead of fun things like shooting video and writing.

33 Countries and counting

2011-02-02T11:36:00.000-08:00

Map of country of origin of my readers

I thought I should update my quest for having at least one reader from each of the 169 or so countries that presently exist on our little blue planet. The list has grown to 34 countries, and in terms of numbers or readers, here it is:

Canada
United States
United Kingdom
Latvia
Germany
Estonia
India
Australia
Spain
Norway
Denmark
Mexico
Japan
Austria
Italy
Ireland
Pakistan
Moldova
Sri Lanka
Kenya
Afghanistan
Singapore
Switzerland
Hong Kong
Serbia
Russia
France
Czech Republic
Iraq
Belize
Morocco
Ukraine
Albania
Malaysia

So what does it all mean? I think it means that there are a lot of people around the world with not a heck of a lot going on with their lives!

Actually I get quite a kick out of the fact that somewhere, some person from a completely different culture is reading my words and trying to make heads or tails out of our culture. Fortunately most internet savy readers will quickly realize that the bulk of Canadians could not be like me or the country would not run as well as it does.

As a reminder to any of my readers that might have contacts not on this list, to pass the word along to your friends to get them to visit the blog and to post a comment so I can add their country to the list.

Right now however I have some very interesting bird video to edit. In the meantime you can watch this short clip that I have made about Starlings - The Kings of Bling.

Frank's Video Vault

2011-01-31T08:21:00.000-08:00

We interrupt these normally awe inspiring postings to bring you a short commercial message. Once again I am looking for gainful employment and had directed one of my potential employers to this site to check out some of the many videos that I have produced as a way of showing what a "swell guy" I really am.

Those that are looking for the latest fix of "frank-isms" will need only wait another day or so and I'll post the saga of my latest road trip with brother Bruce and my father.

In the meantime, here are a number of videos that I think are representative of things I am interested in:

You gotta love these birds!

(I included this clip because Kenna Cartwright Park is one of my favourite hiking spots and there is a good bear track shot in this one)

Go chukars!

2011-01-27T06:17:00.000-08:00

In one of my TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language) classes our teacher had divided us into groups. These groups she had given names and for once I was not put in with the "turtles", "sloths" or "slugs". I guess teachers have become much more sensitive with their terminology since my elementary school days.

No, this past group I was put in with was the Chukars - not the most noble of birds but better than a Dodo I guess. The placement in this group was a fortuitous segue to this little clip I had composed of some Chukars that I found feeding out on the hillside on the edge of town.

I was perplexed about their penchant for hanging around for a picture as they are normally clearing out of the area at a million miles an hour. My perplexedness was short lived however, for as I was filming, an old station wagon with an equally old couple in it pulled up and they started feeding the birds. While I know a great debate rages about the appropriateness of feeding birds I tend to side with the feeders.

Perhaps God himself is particularly fond of birds. Just maybe being nice to birds might get you that extra half mark on the ledger of life needed to get you into the promised land. If that is the case I better quit writing and go top up the feeders.

Oh and PLUR out to all my new found hippie friends.

Not really a post

2011-01-24T07:44:00.000-08:00

Sorry but I am rushing out the door to an important meeting at the office (Tim Horton's) but I am also trying to keep the blog fresh by posting at least every three days.

I thought some of you might enjoy this little clip of an American Dipper, which interestingly enough has a Latin name of Cinclus mexicanus. I guess the Mexicans are reclaiming the Americas one bird at a time.

The bird is one of my winter favourites and I can spend hours watching them feed in the frigid waters. Or at least I could have spent hours watching them feed if the ice I was standing on hadn't broke. Guess it's time to get back on the diet.

Why gooder English?

2011-01-20T09:41:00.000-08:00

So this grammar class I am enrolled in is very much like looking in a mirror. Now for some of you that is not much of a problem, but for me it can be a little scary.

My subconscious mind, in an effort to protect my conscious self, still tells me that I still have a good head of hair, and amazingly, still sport the body I did when fencing in the 78 Olympics or when leading that expedition up Mt. Kilimanjaro (I should hasten to point out that my subconscious mind also likes to exaggerate somewhat with regards to past endeavours.)

The point is that looking at the real me in the mirror can be more than a little discouraging as there is this great disjuncture between the real and the perceived.

So it is with my writing and the grammar class. I have written pretty much all of my life; from my first forged sick notes in grade school to this very blog. Through it all I have always enjoyed writing. But now, when exposed to grammar and its convoluted rules I am forced to reassess. Should that participle be dangling? Does the subordinating phrase agree with the dependent and independent clauses? Should I get another coffee? These are all questions I find myself fighting with in an average grammar class.

Before, I took the Ma Murray approach to writing and was quite happy. Ma Murray was an editor of a little paper in the Fraser Canyon and she would put a bunch of punctuation marks in her paper at the beginning of the year and encouraged her reader's to put 'em wherever they wanted because she couldn't be bothered.
Now however, I feel compelled to at least to try to get it right.

While it may help with my teaching prospects, it's going to really screw up my ability to write good cowboy poetry.

The author at 18,578' mark on Mt. Kilamanjaro (or maybe not)

The Up-space class

2011-01-17T19:17:00.000-08:00

When asked today, as to what I was taking at university, I replied: "Up space apparently." (as in, the teachers all felt I was taking up space in class that could be better utilized by a decorative plant or other item of equal intelligence). The person asking the question either:

didn't understand the humour or,
understood, the humour, but didn't think it funny or,
maybe just felt a little sorry for me, and

the subject was quickly changed.

And while not taking up space I am actually learning some very interesting aspects to the whole Teaching English as a Second Language thingy. I'm not 100% sure that "thingy" is the correct academic term but it shall have to suffice for now as I don't want to stretch my brain too hard at this point in the day.

I had opportunity to sit in and observe a couple of ESL classes today and found in very fascinating. I even knew some of the answers. Some things were very new to me like the fact that run-ed was not the past tense of run. I think though, if you said that "Ed and I were about to get caught stealing apples and I hollered, 'Run Ed!'" that it might get you half marks.

I think the hardest part of the class will be getting any work done while in the actual ESL classes. The students all come from such interesting places that I find I am far more interested in their stories than if they know how to conjugate an irregular verb.

I was talking to one of my classmates and you will never guess where they were from. No really, you will never guess so I will tell you. From Ashcroft. Now isn't that cool? You live all your life thinking that the world doesn't get much bigger than that stretch of highway from Blue River to Kamloops and then out of the blue you meet someone that was actually from Ashcroft.

All kidding aside, I think Ashcroft is pretty cool in that it is a real heritage town and has lots of interesting history associated with it. Sorry but the history lesson will have to wait though as I think the teacher is noticing that I am not really following along with the class discussion. I'll finish this post later, til then - Shalom aleichem, vaya con dios, and see you later alligator.

A fear of flying

2011-01-13T12:07:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've ever made any great secret of the fact that I am a devout coward. In me there is never the "fight or flight" decision to be made. I will always opt for "flight" - unless of course, flight means actual flight in some type of machine. In the case where I have to choose between "fight" and actual "flight" I just feign death until the situation resolves itself.

I guess my fear of flying stems from the fact that I understand how gravity works. There is not much more to be said on that subject so instead I will share with you a few of my adventures when circumstances have forced me to abandon good sense and actually fly somewhere.

While working in the northern rockies I had to fly quite often. Now the normal flying that most of you civilized folks do is pretty safe. Runways are long, paved, quite smooth and usually very close to firetrucks, ambulances, and hospitals. Bush flying is quite the opposite.

Bush flying is usually done into strips that would barely pass for a cattle trail in most parts of the civilized world. Strips would make use of the natural openings in the forest and would seldom be straight, level or long enough. Mountain men seem to lose interest in building a strip shortly after they start on the project and tend to leave it up to the pilot to compensate for their own lack of industry when it comes to construction.

I should add that there was one upside to flying in the mountains. The strips that I flew in and out of were good in that they let me get closer to my spiritual self and I would routinely pick up a religion or two on approach to these strips. I had had to scour the world of theology to pick up new leads on deities that may be there to protect me on take off or landing. It was either religion or booze and most of my co-workers had dibs on the liquor cabinet so I turned elsewhere.

Nowadays I don't have much call to get into a small plane and hurl myself at some 300 meter strip of partially cleared land in the middle of a rock pile, consequently I find my spirituality waning somewhat. Perhaps I will take up snake juggling or something else to motivate my spiritual development. Til then, shalom.

At the back of the class

2011-01-11T04:38:00.000-08:00

I have, at times, awoken under a tree without a clue as to where I was. Often when out hiking, especially if the weather is fair, the day long and having no pressing engagements, I will stretch out under a tree and enjoy a short catnap.

When I awake my mind races through all of the scenarios of trees I have slept under before in an effort to put myself in the right context: Am I in Wells Gray Park? the Northern Rockies? perhaps a hillside in New Zealand? Was I hunting something? Did I have a client with me? Am I in bear country? Yes, there are a lot of questions to be answered as my mind recenters itself, ensuring that I am in the right context before embarking on any course of action.

I offer up the preceding observation as a metaphor for what happened to me last evening. A few hours ago I found myself back in a university class, surrounded by other students, and a stack of books on my desk - none of which had pictures of animals or superheros bashing villains.

Seems that last thing I distinctly remember I was being thrown from a mule as I rode along a narrow mountain pass and the next thing I know I am in the middle of a TESL course orientation. Teaching English as a Second Language is apparently what I am now being trained for. I am not too concerned at this point as I do remember one Star Trek episode where Captain Janeway kept drifting in and out of various scenarios before the time-warp anomaly was corrected and she was returned to the bridge.

Unfortunately, if I don't time-warp back to my mule and packstring I will probably have to start reading these text books. The prospect of being a student again is considerably more frightening than the prospect of rolling off a cliff face into the Graham River. Although I have survived both scenarios before, the scars from the river incident make for much better stories than the scars from being at the back of the class again.

Crossing the Graham

The coldest place on earth - a longish story

2011-01-08T07:35:00.000-08:00

On top of the world

The coldest place on earth

Having recently fought off the grim reaper I am feeling extra perky this evening and thought I would endeavour to write a longish story. I do apologize to those of you not in the mood for a longish story but one must endure reading through these things periodically if one is to build character and moral fiber. On the upside, this story should meet your moral fiber requirements for at least the next week or so.

Without much further introduction I should like to relate the story of the coldest place on earth. The timing for this story, by way of the last part of my introductory remarks, was brought about a chance opening of a folder that contained a great number of photos from this ill fated journey and nothing else. Just be thankful that I didn't open the folder labeled "Roadkill 1997-2003"

So it was in the winter of ought five that I found myself high atop a frozen wilderness plateau, about as far away from civilization or any of its trappings as you can imagine, and on that plateau I had just two things in my favour for survival. Fortunately one of those things in my favour was a sled with about two hundred pounds of provisions and survival gear and the second thing in my favour was another sled with another three pounds of gear and about 50 gallons of gasoline.

No, it would take just a whole lot of bad luck and poor judgement to get into trouble with the equipment and provision that we had with us on this trip.

I should also point out that when I say sled I am not talking about some long narrow wooden dog sled lashed together with caribou sinew but an aluminum high tech job coated with some space age ultra high molecular density plastic to reduce drag coefficients to near zero. These sleds were attached to pair of equally high tech, and high performance snowmobiles which can best be described as "goes fast" and "goes faster."

The purpose of the trip, apart from being off on a grand adventure, was to transport a pair of 18' aluminum boats into normally inaccessible northern lakes. The lakes are inaccessible except by float plane or a 20 day hike on foot - and that 20 days does not include time spent lost or swatting mosquitoes. However, when the winter snows blanket the land which is about 80 percent of the year, one can, if one is so inclined, fight their way in by snow machine. And that is what we were doing.

Ice fishing - Canadian style

The first two legs of the journey were uneventful. We had driven the 1,800 km from Kamloops to the trailhead in a long day of driving. We caught a good two hours of sleep in the cab of the truck, loaded our sleds and headed off on the trail. The first fifty kilometers was up through an incredibly beautiful mountain range and then onto the edge of a broad alpine plateau. At the east edge of the plateau was a large lake that was also the base camp for what was our outfitting territory at the time. (Please note: when I say "our" outfitting territory it is like when the greeter at WalMart says "Welcome to 'our' store")

This base camp is well stocked with warm and efficient cabins and the layover was appreciated. The trip in was pleasant as the weather was warm, about -20, the sun was bright and there was little or no wind to contest with. We double checked our gear and machines the next morning and headed off across the frozen lake and made our way up a small creek bed and then up and onto an even larger plateau.

In the northwest corner of B.C. there are a number of large, relatively flat, alpine plateaus that stretch out for what seems like forever in all directions. These plateaus are important areas for the caribou, moose, grizzlies, wolves and other northern species. These plateaus are also virtually void of all animal life once the snows come. Most mammals know that this area can not support life as we know it when the wind is hitting 80, the temperature is -40, and a hard crusted snow clings to everything. It was into this icebox that we were headed.

As long as we were moving it was alright. Dressed for the weather and fighting the large machines as you finessed your way up mountain pass or along willow-choked valley bottoms one did not worry about being too cold. But once we reached our far mountain outpost, it was a different story.

Down in a lonesome valley and exposed to all four winds was a smallish, say 10'x16' cabin. This cabin was used in the fall by hunting parties that would have ridden in by horseback or would have been dropped off by floatplane. When the weather is in around the freezing mark it is a pleasant cabin and the little airtight heater throws off enough heat to warm you and to dry your clothes. In the winter it is a different story.

Because of the lack of timber of suitable size in the area the cabin was built with the logs on the vertical instead of the traditional horizontal orientation. The upright logs were held together with wooden splines that ran their length and were to provide a measure of chinking against the outside elements. The splines probably did their job well for the first ten or so years of their existence, but by the time I got to the cabin they had sort of lost interest in what they were supposed to do. The wind, apparently straight out of the arctic circle, would rush down that long narrow valley and would cut through the cabin as though the walls did not exist.

The life jackets, kept inside for safe storage would swing violently above my head as I lay on the bunk huddled in my sleeping bag, teeth chattering like a squirrel on crack. The little airtight would being glowing red hot but unless you had actual physical contact with the metal of the stove, the heat would disappear like a politician's promise the day after an election.

All night I lay there in the bed thinking of places I would rather be than there in that ice box. I am sure that the ptarmigan outside, huddled in the snow where warmer than I. In hindsight I think it was the orientation of the cabin and the splines within the logs that created a vortex in the cabin and in fact amplified the windchill factor within the confines of that space.

To steal a line or two from Robert W. Service:

If our eyes we'd close, our lashes froze

Til sometimes we scarce could see

When morning finally came there was little reprieve from the cold. I managed to get enough heat into some eggs and bacon pressed hard against the stove that they actually cooked. We gobbled down our breakfast, fired up our machines and "got the hell out of Dodge" without looking back.

The next day we continued on our journey and made our way across yet another mountain range and finally to the frozen lakeshore where we were to drop our boats. Our return trip was much faster as we had a broken trail to ride on and were not encumbered by our heavy loads.

The original plan was to spend a second night in that little icebox of a cabin but I suggested we press on through as the warmer cabin to the east was only another 50 kilometers away and freezing to death on the plateau in the dead of night was preferable to voluntarily spending another night in the cabin.

Again, the more astute of you will surmise that I did not in fact freeze that night on the plateau but did make it back to civilization. The trip back had some adventure to it but I grow weary at the keyboard and the NyQuil is now kicking in. I shall write of those adventures another time, but for now I think I shall retire to my warm bed and dream of being in a warm bed.

Morning- the clouds have to thaw out to begin moving again

Me on the trip home - happy that I am not frozen

I must cross the river but the ice bridge is gone

Thanks John

2011-01-06T08:20:00.000-08:00

Click on the video so it plays while you read

I was listening to a set of John Prine's tunes on Youtube yesterday and figured I might as well give up on my hope of ever being a songwriter - John has taken all the good lines already.

"Broken hearts and dirty windows make life difficult to see"

"That's why last night and this morning always look the same to me"

And when he isn't being poetic he is just plain funny. If you can listen to "Please don't bury me" without smiling then you are unfortunately dead; and not in the good sense of floating around on a cloud dead - eating bonbons and catching sunbeams - but more of that walking-dead, cement jungle, type of zombie dead.

I guess the purpose of this posting is just to say thank-you to John for sharing his songs with me. The small amount of royalties he has made from the tapes and cds I've bought over the ages doesn't come close to the enjoyment he's brought me.

Once, on a particularly eventful roadtrip with my buddies Rod Hammerston and Kelly Ferguson, we had only one cassette for the 18 hour drive - fortunately it was a John Prine cassette and one just can't ever get tired of listening to and singing along with John. I'd like to say that when the cop that had pulled us over heard we were listening to John Prine that he too was a fan and let us off with a warning but that would be just lying and I'm not about to start that now. In hindsight, perhaps it was the refrains of "An illegal smile" that put our group in such a bad light and the cop in a suspicious mood.

Did I say I wasn't about to start lying? That must be the Buckley's talking. It's been another long night.

My fine feathered friends

2011-01-05T04:05:00.000-08:00

The common magpie (Pica pica)

Again, the wee hours of the morning find me unable to sleep. This time I am splitting my time between T.V. (ScoobyDoo) and the computer (pulling together video from days past).

The video editing is more rewarding but Scooby does take my mind off of the chore of trying to breathe.

Tonight's video is not all that inspiring but for some reason I find very entrancing - perhaps it is the combination of sleep deprivation and Buckley's - but I do like watching magpies.

I think the local university would do well to provide a course in using technology for field study. Setting up cameras like I did yesterday yields a lot of information about birds and how they interact, and I truly believe that knowledge no matter how obscure is a wonderful thing.

Watch this short clip of the birds and see what you can glean from the antics of our feathered friends.

My mountain friends

2011-01-03T11:50:00.000-08:00

The upside to being sick is I don't feel so bad when I take the time to dig through my archives of videos from days gone by. This latest clip I remembered fondly and thought I would share it and the lesson that one can take with it.

I was to be the last person transported out of our mountain camp up at Lady Laurier. However as the little bush plane departed with the second to last load, the weather closed in and I knew I was to be on my own for awhile. Up there in the mountains one learns quickly that plans have to be fluid, especially when it comes to travel by air.

The rain, hail and sometimes snow was relentless over a four day period and I was starting to go a little 'bushed' until this little mouse (actually a red-backed vole) showed up in my cabin. The vole looked as though he had been in a one sided fight and was obviously exhausted as he hauled himself under our wood stove. The heat from the stove was probably welcomed and he just lay there, panting and obviously stressed.

Now I know that most would have taken the opportunity to dispatch the rodent as they are the bane of all who live in cabins. They chew the leather on your saddles, they eat your porridge and they poop in the pepper. But I have recently been of the view that I should only kill that which: I can eat, is about to eat me, or is really annoying. I hasten point out that my wife reminds me that the third criteria I mention is not really appropriate and I thank her for filling in for my somewhat faulty social conscience.

So instead of whacking the vole on the head with the frying pan, I offered him up a small piece of cheese. Small to me of course but a veritable mountain to my minute friend. He finally got up the nerve to feed on the cheese and I got a good deal of satisfaction out of watching him chow down.

The vole came back periodically and each day he seem to grow in strength and his offspring are probably still up in that alpine cabin - chewing on saddles, eating porridge and pooping in the pepper.

My plane never did return and I had to ride out on my own through a raging mountain storm, through a valley choked with grizzlies, and then faced with fording a swollen mountain river. You may surmise that I had survived that trip but the truth of the matter is the subject of yet another of my "Amazing Tales form the North."

Yawn Hyper Ape

2011-01-01T17:23:00.000-08:00

Those of you into cryptology will of course recognize the title of this first posting of 2011 as a scrambling of the simple phrase well wishers pass onto one another on this first day of the year.

So will this posting be about cryptology? Of course not, but it is something that you might want to stash away in the back of your mind for future reference. You might also want to pass this blog on to any of your friends that are into treasure hunts and other such nonsense. You will of course want to remind them if they should happen to find some buried treasure in 2011, that it was you who pointed them in the right direction.

Other than that paragraph I really don't want to say too much. Well, I do want to say much more but one needs to be patient in this treasure hunting business.

So if I can't talk about treasure hunts, what can I talk about? I think I will take the first couple of weeks to plot out all of my upcoming projects for the new year. The major project is that I would like to post 150 new videos to YouTube. With quantity comes quality.

This first video is some I had taken many years ago up along the Clearwater River. It is interesting to watch how this sow reacts to catching my scent. For those not so well versed in the out of doors it is important to learn to watch the animals around you and to pick up on their actions as to how they are feeling and what they are about to do. Probably not bad advice for watching other humans as well. Anyways when you see a bear perk its ears up, get its nose up in the air, and start casting its head side to side, then you know it is getting nervous and is getting into that fight or flight mode.

Any of you that missed my best wishes for 2011 I send them out again to you - hopefully we can share some good stories, photos, and hikes in 2011.

Just wringing the last drops out of 2010

2010-12-31T04:24:00.000-08:00

Admittedly an artificial construct, but one must acknowledge the end of the calendar year.

As I look back on the year past I must admit to a couple of short comings. First and foremost was my inability to stick to my quest for a thinner me. My other quests - like cooking, baking, eating and general sloth were easier quests to hoist my colours for. Other than that I did pretty good.

I got to spend a lot of quality time with my family and a lot of me time in the hills and open expanses around Kamloops. I led a couple of alpine hikes, took my daughter fishing a number of times, went on an epic hunt with my father and fixed a couple of things around the house. I chased snakes, captured rainbows, started writing two books and shot a lot of shaky video. (Chances of books getting finished or published are somewhere between slim and hardy-har-har). Oh and I went to the Canadian finals for Canada writes!

I added a lot of real friends to my list (as opposed to just facebook friends) and I re-connected with a number of friends, many of those reconnections a direct result of this blog.

And speaking of this blog - 144 entries for the year, so about one entry every three days, or about the life expectancy of my hamsters when I was a little boy. The hamster life expectancy story will have to wait til the new year as I wouldn't want to lose the last of my followers at this late stage of the year.

I do want to wish all of my readers all the best for 2011 and I will ~~try~~ not try to be more focused in my subject matter.

My last offering is this clip of waxwings I saw out at Tranquille yesterday.

Google - the unfriendly giant

2010-12-28T12:37:00.000-08:00

2010 is ending in a bit of a tailspin for me - at least in the computing field. First, my host for my websites, HostPapa, inadvertently deleted my primary domain (www.frankritcey.com) and I have yet to hear if they can do anything about it. I guess what really bugs me about that situation is that I didn't even receive an apology for their actions.

If that matter isn't resolved to my liking I imagine I will trudge across the internet highway to somebody like GoDaddy who has similar service at cheaper prices. My hesitation to switching is that I was trying to shop Canadian and HostPapa, up until last week, had been a very good service provider.

Then to add to the festivities, on Christmas Day, I received an email from google telling me that they had canceled my Google Adsense account for suspicious click activity. From my reading of the emails they apparently, and wrongly, figured that someone that I had influence over was clicking on ads on my website with the intent of providing me income instead of purchasing the product or service the ad was promoting.

What really frosts my butt in this matter is that they don't allow you anyway to interact with them to explain your side of the situation or to implement ways to block suspicious click activity. Due to their size they can do pretty much anything they want. But in fairness to them I guess the conversation would have gone something like "No I didn't" and "Yes you did" until one of us grew tired of the exchange. I had learned many many years ago that life has nothing to do with what is fair or right - it is more a matter of circumstance and might - so I guess I'll have to let this one slide and unlike Don Quixote, I'll find other windmills to joust.

I guess the irony of the situation is that this very blog is hosted by Google and is just a small part of their immense web empire. It gets one thinking about the problems that arise when so much of our cyber-lives are controlled by single interests like Google, Microsoft or Apple.

If I can weather the last days of 2010 without suffering other internet borne malaise I promise to have something well worth reading on the first day of the new year.

No pictures - Bah humbug!

2010-12-24T06:54:00.000-08:00

2010 is coming to a close and I think I’ve managed to wring a good bit of entertainment from it.

I’ve filled up a couple of hard drives with the video I’ve shot
hiked a couple of hundred kilometers of trails: some new, some old familiar favourites.
made it to the national finals on CBC
started writing three different books
found some cool snake hunting spots
took my daughter fishing and hiking
took my father hunting to the far east (Saskatchewan)
caught some salmon with my elder brother
travelled around the province with my wife to some great music festivals
even managed to do some work stuff but that was nowhere as much fun as the other stuff

And through it all I managed to keep plugging away at my blog. Writing is what I love to do, and like a lot of other things in life, you don’t have to be good at it to enjoy doing it. I have enve made some people happy with my writing. Every now and then I will get a comment or an email from a reader saying how much they enjoyed my blog and if I could bring back the casserole dish that they left at the last family get together it would be appreciated. Okay, maybe only mom writes to say that she enjoyed my blog but it is a start.

One of the interesting aspects of the blog is my ability to track where readers are from and I have started on my quest to get a reader from every country in the world (or at least a visitor). My list to date includes:

Albania
Australia
Austria
Belize
Canada
China
Czech Republic
Estonia
France
Germany
India
Ireland
Italy
Kenya
Kuwait
Latvia
Mexico
Moldova
Norway
Russia
Spain
The Netherlands
United Kingdom
United States

So I have 24 of the approximately 195 countries that are presently defined by today’s political landscape. I am setting myself a goal of two new countries a month - a goal which should be doable.

As I get closer to the New Year I will post more goals as I find it easier to post goals than achieve them. I guess that is what I love about the season – the ability to plan for the future without having to do all of the hard work associated with all that planning. Heck, I even enjoying planning for the planning session.

I am off now to go make up some "best laid plans" and to do my Christmas shopping.

Anatomy of the perfect sneak

2010-12-22T14:35:00.000-08:00

The start of the game

Now it is seldom that you will see the words “anatomy”, “perfect” and “Frank Ritcey” in the same sentence but this is that rare occasion when they do actually belong together. Of course it is not my anatomy I am referring to but the anatomy of the sneak that I recently pulled on a small herd of normally pretty astute mule deer.

I was off on one of my hikes through Kenna Cartwright Park when I noticed what I took to be a doe and a fawn at some 400 meters distance. I didn’t think I could, or would even try to, get close to them. As I worked my way down the trail however, I spotted a third and then fourth and fifth deer and knew that this would be a good challenge for me.

When you’re out taking pictures it is a lot harder than just hunting. Even a poor shot like I can be relatively effective at distances out to 200 meters. But, even with a great big lens and a doubler, a photographer needs to be within fifty meters to start getting decent shots.

So I first assessed the situation and planned a route that would bring me within 50 meters of the deer and to do so in such a way as to not spook them. Pictures of deer bounding away I have enough of.

The deer were high on a knoll and could see me already and had pretty much 280 degrees of vision given their present position. The wind was blowing from the south and precluded a direct approach even if one could get under their line of sight.

I tried one of the oldest tricks in the book and that was to walk away from the deer, all who were watching me intently, and to then duck in behind a knoll and out of their sight. By walking away from the herd I was attempting to put them at ease and to lower their level of preparedness for flight. Sort of like getting your adversary to go to an orange alert from a red alert.

I then hiked a good distance to the east to insure that the wind that was blowing up towards the deer would not carry my scent towards them. After an hour of hiking, my scent can probably be picked up by most animals (and many plants) and extra caution is warranted.

Safely to the east I then picked my way up through a small draw and got directly behind where I thought the animals to be. Approaching the ridge I would pause every three or four steps. By pausing while you are walking, if the deer hear you, they may attribute the sound to just another deer approaching. Humans are one of the few animals that will walk without pausing and when an animal hears a steady footfall they vacate an area quickly.

After about thirty five minutes of this circuitous sneak I nervously poked my head over the ridge. There, about three meters away, was a wide eyed doe looking directly at me! She almost looked embarrassed for having such a large awkward beast get so close to her and her young. I quickly withdrew, gave a couple of reassuring bleats (like those of a lost fawn) and got my camera ready.

Poking my head back over the ridge I could see all five deer and managed to get some decent shots. As I was careful not to appear threatening in any way – slow deliberate movements and averted eyes – the deer continued to feed, albeit nervously, and then they eventually got wind of me and decided it was time to leave.

The resultant two and a half minutes of deer video was well worth the effort and was so much fun I think I’ll try it again. I'll post the deer video sometime in the next week, 'til then, keep your cinch tight.

An expert mouser at work

2010-12-20T08:34:00.000-08:00

I was out on a shoot the other day when I almost ran into famed local photographer Peter Suzle. I say almost ran into but thanks to ABS and good winter tires we avoided the crash.

Peter was coming back from his search for Great Grey owls and I was wrapping up a trip through Kenna Cartwright Park and we had both ended up by the Timber Lake road, searching the trees in hopes of spotting a Great Grey.

Finding nothing of the owl persuasion we decided to take the backroad by Goose Lake to see what we could scare up that would be worthy of our attention. There wasn’t much going on – a couple of Rough Legged Hawks and a coyote off in the distance was all that presented themselves – and those only briefly.
I figured the day could only be salvaged by a trip to Tim Horton’s and Peter said he would join me there. Shortly after I had pulled out on the highway I noticed Peter was no longer following me so I wheeled around and returned – fearing the worse. The worse being of course that he was getting pictures of something that I had missed.

Yes the worst had happened. I had driven right past a coyote hunting mice in the field alongside the Goose Lake Road and Peter was there blasting away with that big camera of his. Talk about lens envy.
I did manage to get a minute or so of shaky footage, before the coyote figured he should go hunt elsewhere. In this case I figure a bad video about an interesting subject is better than the reverse so here it is.

Please check out Peter’s photos at http://psulzle.blogspot.com/2010/12/dippers-and-coyotes.html and see what good photos are all about.

Nuts about you

2010-12-17T07:39:00.000-08:00

Talk about wild and crazy Christmas parties. Yes, please talk about them, the one I was at last night wasn't one of them so I'd like to hear about lampshades on heads and inappropriate behaviour of all types.

No, the only thing wild about the Kamloops Naturalist Club is the subject matter of their discussions. The year- end meeting is always a nice one in that we try to get through the regular business as soon as possible, have a couple of baked goodies, enjoy a short program of entertainment and get home before Doc Martin is over.

As I was in charge of last night's entertainment, I forced the group to watch a few of Loyd's and my video productions and I subjected them to a wild animal quiz. The quiz was harder than I thought and the best score was 5/10 - I'll be posting that quiz here at some point so I can't give away much more than the fact that it is tricky.

The videos I presented were well received and the people laughed and clapped in all of the right places so we obviously got it right. Loyd's production of "Nuts about You" was particularly well received and one of the members recounted to me of how when she had first seen the video on Youtube that it brought a smile to her soul for the rest of the day. It is that type of response that we are always looking for. Fame and money is nice but making people happy is the real reward of the composer or writer.

Frank's World

2010-12-15T18:24:00.000-08:00

I'm setting some type of record here - twice now I've written on the same subject. And that subject is the spread of my blog, like some insidious weed, across the world. Since I've started recording my visitors I have amassed a total of 18 countries and some 76 cities.

I have noticed that I haven't had visitors from Norway or Sweden yet, which is surprising as I have relatives in both countries and you would think that there would be a least a glimmer of interest in what their representative off in the new world was up to.

I am also interested in how the search engines work in flagging this blog about Norway and Sweden. My guess is that if I say something bad in the same sentence with the words Norway or Sweden, a flag goes up in some ministry of tourism office and a cyber agent is sent out to investigate - at least it would if I were in charge.

Of course there is nothing bad to say about either country but having now used the word bad three times, the lights and sirens are going crazy across the Atlantic and the cyber-elite are being scrambled. When they get here they will breathe a sigh of relief, post a message to say "Hi" from their respective countries and another potential threat to tourism will have been quelled (or is that quashed or perhaps squashed? - Ellen, if you are reading this, please elucidate.)

Resistance is futile - I will eventually have a reader from every country in the world!

On the road to Moldova

2010-12-14T18:37:00.000-08:00

So where is Moldova? And if any of you say - in the back of Frank's fridge I will send you out of the class.

Once again I am stumped by the what, where, when and why of another small European country - but not, as the astute of you will have notice, not stumped as to the who of Moldova. My blog showed a recent visit from that country and it came from an old friend of mine - Alanna Jorde. Not to say that Alanna would be old, because she was only like six or seventeen when she started work at the newspaper at which I was also employed.

Alanna is like the Lois Lane of the newspaper world and she travels all about our planet, writing about politics and N.G.O.'s and all types of interesting stuff. She is a fast pen for hire and her full credentials can be found at Red Lotus communications.

So another country has been added to my growing list and I've had a chance to catch up on some of the travelings of an old friend. I did a quick google of Moldova and learned a number of interesting things but I would love to receive a comment from a native or ex-pat of Moldova.

Moldova is the dark green country - what is the light green country?

Things I have mis-seen

2010-12-11T07:04:00.000-08:00

No, I didn't have a stroke - but that would help explain a lot of things I guess. I just have this habit, as do many when they get to be my advanced age, to mis-hear and to mis-see things.

I don't know that this failing of the faculties is purely physical or if perhaps your mind does it just to add a bit of interest to your life. Take for instance the other day while out hiking along Tranquille River: There, up ahead in the alder thicket was a bear, out well past his hibernation date. I sneaked and ninja-ed my way up along a prickly rose thicket only to get close enough to take some very good footage of the dark end of a culvert. At least for ten minutes of the hike I was having fun.

And this morning added to my fun. I rolled out of bed and hit the computer to catch up on all of my very important messages and to jot a quick entry into my too often neglected blog. As is the case, when one signs into the management section of the blog I am presented with all of the brilliant things my friends and folks I follow have written.

One blog I follow is Mel Rothenburger's. Now for those of you that aren't Kamloopsians, Mel is a long serving editor of the local paper and ex-mayor. I had never been a big fan of Mel's - mainly because he has actually done the two things I always thought I would like to do (if it wasn't for all the work involved). Mel was one of the great mayors of Kamloops - not Peter Wing or Kenna Cartwright great but definitely close. During his term in office he managed to tone down his right wing tendencies and was in fact a mayor for the majority. Mel is also a very good writer and so I like to follow his blog as it helps me get fired up for the day.

So I was very intrigued when I saw his latest entry about the RIH versus Lighting. (The RIH is our Royal Inland Hospital) and the "Lighting" I supposed would be the on-going controversy about how much we spend on the christmas lights for the city. "Ah - ha" I muttered to myself, "that old scrooge will suggest we get rid of the lights to help finance the hospital!" I was already formulating my witty riposte to his ill-formed plan.

It took me about half way through the article before it dawned on me that the post was in fact about 'lightning' and not 'lighting'. I read the rest of the article but, like the bear-turned-culvert it had already lost its appeal.

Lunch with an icon

2010-12-06T12:52:00.000-08:00

Okay, maybe I didn't have lunch but the icon did and I was there, so that has to count for something.

The icon of course was the great Canadian Beaver. That furry little pelt upon the back of this, America's second largest rodent, is what spurred the settlement of Canada and without which there would be no basketball, Tim Horton's or Superman comic books. We may have been responsible for more but I only mention the most important items. Quick - what is the largest rodent?

Our lunch date was up on the Tranquille river and I, in an escape from the keyboard, had made the hike up there on my own. The chilling winds kept most of my usual companions curled up around a glowing TV set and I was forced to be my own company (quite frankly, I'm probably not all that fun to hike with - I just wouldn't shut up or let myself get a word in edgewise) but I was all that I had so I, and my other personalities, made our way up alongside the river.

I had gone up there with the hopes of getting some footage of an American Dipper and apart from a fleeting glimpse of one making its way up the river I was to be skunked on that particular quest. But on my way back I decided to check out what I thought were a set of beaver tracks just upstream of the lodge. Sure enough, when I got there a large black form was waddling down the ice. It slipped into the open water just upstream of the dam and I quickly positioned myself for his return.

I was quickly rewarded for my stealth with the beaver's return. His poor eyesight and my ninja like ability to appear like a tree - albeit a big fat tree - allowed me to shoot for nearly 90 minutes. I watched as he chewed down numerous trees and saplings and marveled at his resistance to the icy cold waters. Finally something spooked him - perhaps another hiker along the trail away from the river or perhaps he caught wind of me - whatever the cause, he dropped everything, scooted across the ice and dove under without a backwards glance.

Oh, the answer to the rodent question - the capybara

A lesson about eye-care

2010-12-05T08:02:00.000-08:00

Okay this is almost embarrassing but too funny to keep to myself.

As an admitted hypochondriac I have a tendency to attribute my latest ache or pain to something rare and almost always terminal. It comes from an over active imagination I guess - that or a tumour in my reasoning lobe of the brain. But there I go again.

So for the past couple of weeks I have been suffering from acute migraine attacks. These are a first for me as apart from all of my other maladies I seldom if ever have suffered even the slightest headache. But something has triggered these migraines and I have been trying to figure out what the source of the pain is.

I had been thinking it might of been the result of too many hours in front of the computer screen and my failing eyesight. Consequently I have been cognizant of my vision and so it was with great consternation that yesterday, while working on my computer, after an 8 hour stint at the keyboard, that I started to notice little black dots moving across the range of my vision. Now I have experienced the little "floaters" that you sometimes get across your field of vision but these were much more pronounced - darker and moving much faster.

I blinked, took a break from the computer but the black dots persisted. I was sure that a tumour was encircling the optic nerve as I sat there and was obviously on the start of the long dark road to oblivion. The dark spots spun and grew more frequent and greater in number. Now instead of one or two spots there were four, five, six - my sense of foreboding deepened. How would I break this to my friends and family? If blinded would I be able to play the piano like Ray Charles? My mind spun.

The dark spots started to become clearer. As I had mentioned, my near vision is not that great, but every now and then these black dots would take form - almost like they had wings! Wings! That was it. I remembered the banana peel I had discarded in my waste basket a couple of days (maybe weeks) ago and the resultant batch of fruit flies which were now invading my room would more easily explain the black dots before my eyes.

It appears that I don't need extensive radiation treatment - I just need to take out the trash more often.

So where the hell is Estonia?

2010-12-02T21:29:00.000-08:00

Now I am not going to print the map with Estonia marked on it, because I wonder how many of you might know where Estonia is without going to google maps. Apart from my brainiac uncle Jim and his equally astute sister aunty Ellen I doubt that many of my readers could confidently tell me what two countries border this small-ish country.

Well, at least one of my readers should know where Estonia is, as I have just had a new reader log in from that country. Perhaps it was my friend Alana who is off jet setting in that part of the world as an international reporter. Probably not though as she was supposed to be gong to Moldavia, which is a little out of the way.

Perhaps my Estonian visitor can give us a quick recap of what is going on in your country these days or answer a question I would ask of any of my guests while out in the mountains, and that is "What is your particular part of the country famous for producing?" In Oregon it is cheese, Idaho is potatoes and millionaires, and Michigan it is brainiacs. What is it that Estonia produces?

This getting readers from all over the world is fun and informative. Next time I have to play trivial pursuit against uncle Jim he'd better be ready!

Welcome Latvia

2010-12-01T16:14:00.000-08:00

Latvia - one of my more recent acquisitions

Last week I had put out a call for new viewers and, as promised, I am now sharing some of the new acquisitions. According to Google analytics I have had 6 visits from the country of Latvia, which I must admit a huge ignorance of.

Latvia is not that far from Norway and even less of a swim from Sweden and being so close to the land of my ancestors you would think that I would of at least had a passing acquaintance with the country. But no, til now, Latvia has escaped my radar.

So now I have to ask my reader or reader(s) from Latvia to let me know what, if there were one main thing a person should know about your country, what would that one thing be? Now if someone were to ask me that about Canada I would have to say that we are home to some of the last wilderness places on the earth. Others would say that we are famous for being the birthplace of Tim Horton's and some others would say we were famous for our moose hunting. It all depends on what you are interested in and that is what I am interested in learning from my Latvian readers - what is it that makes you proud or excited about your country.

Has anyone of my readers ever visited the country or met a person from there? Please inform me. I could google it but then it would take away from the mystery and intrigue of the country. A prize of an original "Rounders and Sinners" CD will be sent out to the first reader to comment from a valid Latvian address.

But I must return to my programming tasks. I am working at developing a Joomla based website and thought I was doing so well with frankritcey.com until Loyd let me know that it doesn't work with Internet Explorer 8. I'm thinking that Bill Gates better get on this problem as I don't think I'll be able to figure it out - feel free to visit the site with any other browser and let me know what you think. I know it's pretty rough right now but what I am working on is the proof of concept. It's sort of like building a house - you get it up first and then make it pretty with paint and trim at the end.

Ice water - A story of survival

2010-11-29T11:41:00.000-08:00

Loyd and I were out filming a few days back and the weather had turned cold - about -20 or so and the ice was forming rapidly all along the river.

One of the beaver ponds looked pretty safe so I crossed out on it to get some different angles of a pond that one is usually restricted to the edges of. Now I would not recommend this type of action to the general public but as I like to point out - I am a trained professional. Okay, maybe not that trained and probably not that professional but I always assess any situation I am moving into with the follow factors to consider:

Risk: This is the probability that what you're about to attempt will turn out the way you want.
Uncertainty: This is what part of the equation that you don't know - if there is a large factor of uncertainty one needs to assess the other factors in the equation.
Payoff: What is the reward for taking the action - Being able to say that "I did it" is usually not enough of a payoff for me, but perhaps "getting that perfect shot" is.
Penalty: This is what happens when the risk doesn't pay out a reward but instead you fail - this to me is the biggest part of the equation.

In terms of me deciding to walk across the beaver pond I knew the risk was low for me falling through - about a 10% chance, the uncertainty was low as I was fairly confident in my assessment as I had been across a number of similar ponds under similar circumstances, the payoff wasn't that great but still held some benefit to me as a photographer, and the penalty if I'd fallen through would have been cold feet as I trudged the kilometer or so back to my vehicle. So I went out across the pond.

I made a similar calculation once up on the Graham river out in the middle of nowhere and I guess I'd forgotten to carry the zero or something but I'd decided to cross the river in an area that I thought was both frozen and shallow enough to make the crossing not that dangerous. I was wrong on both accounts.

I was by myself, about five kilometers from camp, it was minus 20 and I was just out exploring. This was during the time that I was building the lodge and I was living up there on my own so there was no chance of a rescue. I'd got about four steps out onto the ice when it just opened up and I fell through to my armpits in some incredibly cold water.

Cursing my bad judgment I tried to extricate myself from the river but my snowshoes kept getting stuck under the ice. I realized I was in a pretty bad jam - in that cold flowing water I had about 10 minutes before I'd succumb to the cold so I had to do something and something very quickly. I threw off my pack back towards the shore, reached into the water and grabbed the tip of one snowshoe and managed to get that shoe up on the ice. I was now pretty much completely soaked. I rolled, squirmed and kicked until the second shoe came free.

At that point I had to make a quick calculation and this time it had to be right: did I stop and try to build a fire and thaw out and then make the trip back to the lodge or did I just head out for the lodge and hope I'd make it before I froze. I chose the later and you are probably quick enough to surmise that I made it, but it was pretty close.

Dog trotting along the trail kept my body cranking out the heat, but my clothes, wet as they were, were very efficient at wicking away this warmth. By the time the cabin came into view my feet had gone numb and I was getting worried.

Ever since that day on the Graham River I have been pretty good about performing my risk vs. reward equation and I guess when you get older the risk has to be well worth the reward.

Taking a winter dip

2010-11-27T15:29:00.000-08:00

Just a real quick post as I am extremely busy doing nothing. I got out for a short hike with dad this a.m. and we saw the bighorn sheep that have moved in to the base of the mountain behind my folk's place. We also saw close to 50 chukar, 4 mule deer and your assortment of winter birds.

I did get some poor video of a dipper along Tranquille river and saw a Varied Thrush, which to a non-birder means very little but is somewhat noteworthy for those of the ornithological bend.

Apart from that I have been busy working on my Joomla coding - just learning by doing so it will be a little rough for the next couple of websites but I should get better at it. You can check out my first attempt at www.frankritcey.com - Eventually this site will evolve into a community forum where my buddies and I can post reviews about outdoor gear and service providers that we have found good, bad or ugly.

And apart from that I went for an interview about taking a course at TRU to become certified as an ESL teacher.

And apart from that I have been working on some quantum mechanics equations that I think I may have finally solved - or was I just thinking that I should do that but instead went and read some more of my Green Lantern comics? Probably the later.

My request for readers from around the world has pretty much gone unheeded - but thanks to those that have sent some links. I've picked up readers from Belize, Latvia, Ireland and Australia - only 189 more to go!

Help me travel the world

2010-11-23T08:32:00.000-08:00

My not so impressive visitor stats

So I have a new quest, which is of itself not that new in the general sense of the idea, but new in the particulars of this quest. Those that know me know that new quests for me pop up at about the same rate of sunrises and sunsets - and on a good day maybe twice that number.

But I digress - my new quest is to have my blog read in every country that Google reports from. I have recently install some analytical software from google so that I can see where my visitors are coming from and it is from the above map that I got the idea that it would be nice to be able to say that I am a world-wide read author. The present title of "Best on the block", well actually "Best on this side of the block" doesn't really do much for me.

Perhaps it is from watching one too many sci-fi flicks where there is a mad scientist wanting to take over the world that has sent me on this quest. But it is a quest never the less.

So here is the assignment for each of my loyal followers: please copy this address-

http://frankritcey.blogspot.com/2010/11/help-me-travel-world.html

and send it off to at least one of your friends that lives outside of Canada - the more obscure the better, and encourage them to visit leave a comment on my blog. You can also click on the facebook button below and share the link with your friends. This could be interesting for all of us to see how fast this type of social networking takes off.

I will post the results from this experiment weekly and we can, as a crowd see of fast we reach our goal of world domination.

Now I must go and think of something pithy to write so your friends won't be too mad at you for sending them to this website. I know I'll write about the big man eating rat I just caught in the basement!

Birds on the brain

2010-11-21T09:08:00.000-08:00

These are some of the birds that were feeding on the ground after the bears destroyed their feeding stations. Watch the little house finch on the left as he puffs up his feathers to ward off the cold.

The house sparrow on the right I think is a young bird as you can still see the yellow around his beak. The yellow I think is an adaptation to trigger the feeding response from the parents. Fortunately for the kids the parents are hard wired to keep feeding no matter how old the offspring - hence my predilection towards visiting around lunch time at my folk's place.

For the cat lovers

2010-11-16T08:33:00.000-08:00

I have wanted to do this project for some time, but inertia and general sloth have prevented me from going through all of my video and actually pulling the pieces together. But a pot of coffee and an attack of acute insomnia has allowed me to finally pull the Cat-sitter project together.

The Cat-sitter project (CSP) is a video I have put together to keep your cat and or dog occupied while you are off bungee jumping or playing bingo. While it is a poor substitute for actual human interaction it is better than leaving them to amuse themselves by shredding the drapes or chewing up your collection of Frank Sinatra albums.

The clips shown here are just a sampling of the contents. The full hour version just has a lot more birds hopping around and is designed to keep your pet in suspense until the climatic ending where . . . (well I can't tell you how it ends because that would spoil the surprise.

Those with pets could help me out by letting your Fluffy or Mr. Spock watch this video clip and let me know how they react and if there is a part they like best (watch the time counter on the progress bar to let me know about where the interesting parts are). The full length version will be available online and in pets stores everywhere - unless I get bored and go off to produce another CD with Loyd.

An ethical question

2010-11-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

As I get older I find myself asking more and more ethical or metaphysical questions. When I was young I would ask myself questions like: "I wonder if I can jump all the way across this ravine?" or, "I wonder how long before I hit the bottom?" and "How long before the para-medics arrive?" Now that I am older I ask more the "meaning of life" type questions as I have figured out most of the other more immediate type questions.

So it was when I was reviewing this little clip of some type of black millipede-isk creature that was making lunch out of a worm.

At the time, one of my neighbour's children and I were being treated to this raw act of nature and I was trying to explain to the girl that this is what happens in the real world: "One day you're just cruising along, enjoying your life, and the next you're being ravaged by some dark mysterious force that you have no control over."

As I was posting the video though I had pangs of guilt associated with the fact that I could have saved the worm earlier and that by posting the video I hope to realize monetary gain at some time from the act. Google shares the ad revenues with a few of the more prolific or popular posters on the net.

So the moral questions are:

1. Is it right to save the worm, because in so doing you either starve the predator or condemn another insect to death because the predator will just move on and kill something else in order to survive?

2. Should we assign any morality to watching two animals duke it out in a life and death struggle? This is a hard one as I am sure when I was being charged by the grizzly sow up in the northern Rockies, that I made one or two calls for intervention from whatever greater forces happened to be watching this particular channel.

Other people's views are greatly appreciated although not necessarily adopted. This is one that I am still ambivalent about but at some point will make up my mind as to what is my stance on the issue.

Hard water fishing

2010-11-11T09:42:00.000-08:00

So - I am feverishly going though my old video files looking for some footage of a fishing trip to Foot Lake but keep getting sidetracked by all types of other gems that I come across.

What I find so interesting is the number of subjects I will have on a single hour of tape. As an example: one tape had everything from a treatment of the American Dipper, Christmas dinner, a hike to Triple Decker falls, a series of birds and squirrels at my feeder, a "polar bear" swim in the North Thompson river, a cat hunt and a time lapse of a full moon. No wonder I have a hard time staying focused on any one thing - there's far too many exciting things to sample at this great buffet we call "life."

I took the time to pull together a bit of a fishing clip from the one tape and I present it here as a way of demonstrating that not all kids these days are tied to their Iphones and xboxes. It helps that the kids in the video have parents that are the epitome of activity and that they have been raised on a diet of adventure and physical fitness.

On another note - the lake on which we caught this great trout has been changed over to a "trophy" lake and you are not allowed to ice-fish there any longer. This is typical of a bureaucracy that caters to the whim of the elitist fly fishing lobby. Really, maybe a handful of people are energetic enough to make the trip into the lake, and with a two fish limit, how many fish does the no ice fishing rule save: four or five? Hardly worth the cost of preventing the odd group of fishers that want a ski and wilderness ice fishing experience.

Martin up!

2010-11-09T07:47:00.000-08:00

When I was just a teenager I worked with a man who would always say "You know my friend Martin - Martin up you idiot" and then he would laugh uncontrollably at his wit. It was then that I swore I wouldn't become a raging alcoholic - at least not on the job.

But that little aside aside this post is about another martin a Pine Marten (Martes americana). This particular one had taken up residence in our cookhouse at Big Meadow and at first I had thought a bear had gone through the place.

Martens and cabins don't co-exist too well - unless one of them is dead and stuffed on the wall. We tried that - but everytime you would destroy one of the marten, another would take its place. I knew there had to be a better solution. One day I decided to live trap the offending creature - haze it, and then return it to the wilds. I had figured that such a stressful experience would make the marten hesitant to return to the cabin, but keep it in the area and keep other un-learned marten from entering my cabin.

The marten was an easy beast to trap and was obviously quite upset with being so caged. I took pity on it though and gave it a small piece of sausage for its troubles. It quit snarling long enough for me to feed it and I was careful not to get my fingers taken off in the process. I tarped up the cage and took the marten off into the meadow and released him. He took off like greased lightning and almost beat me back to the cabin (and I was on a pretty fast snowmobile).

I set the trap a second time and this time when I found the marten inside, he was quite relaxed about the whole thing and was sitting there patiently waiting for his bit of sausage. I fed him again and let him go. After the second time though, he would not return to the cabin. I watched him on and off for about three years after that - him patrolling the perimeter of our camp for squirrels and mice and never again venturing into our cookhouse.

Calling all moose

2010-11-08T17:23:00.000-08:00

Well I have finally got around to it. Okay, almost got around to it if you must be precise.

I have got my moose calling website up and running. Okay, almost running - sheesh you'te being very picky today aren't you? Sorry that was a rhetorical question and I didn't really expect a response. But if you'd let me get on with my original thought we could get through with this and get onto finding our latest Bob The Postman clip on CBC radio 3.

So I have put together this site on calling moose - why would you want to call a moose should be the first question the astute reader should ask. The primary response seems to be to shoot it and eat it but I am tending towards more of the call it, video it, post the video on Youtube, make lots of money from the clip, and then I can go out and buy a big beefsteak so nobody needs to get shot. Well nobody but the cow I guess, so we're probably no further ahead than we were when we started. Life was much simpler before Youtube, the wheel, fire and speech.

But the point of even mentioning that I have this new website is to also mention how it was put together. I outsourced it. Signed up to Elance.com, posted the job, chose a contractor from about 12 billion and six responses, and then sent them the specs and a bunch of mockups of what I wanted.

I won't say the process was painless. The time difference was a factor - India is 12 hours ahead of us, so if I wanted to talk I had to be up at 3:00 a.m.. The language was a bit of a factor but the people I worked with had a pretty sound grasp of our idioms and really worked hard to please. In the end I got a Content Managment System built in Joomla which would never have happened if I were doing it myself.

If I can just sell three ads to outfitters who want to be associated with the site and make a buck a day off of the Google Adwords that I have attached to the site, I will do alright. The long term goal is to get a hundred or so of these sites that generate a cash flow so I can just sit around, write stories and take pictures of muskrats out at Lac Dubois (still have to post that clip here).

Anyhow - please go check out the site - www.moosecaller.ca and then check it again in another three weeks when I have got around to getting the hunting stories and pictures actually posted along with the other stuff.

Must go and see how my remote magpie cam is doing.

Magpie at feeder

A test of reason

2010-11-01T07:48:00.000-07:00

KNC hiker with anthill in foreground

The following is a problem I am thinking of donating to the science department at TRU, just to let the students put some of their new found problem solving skills to the test - and a chance to win a free lunch, which is always appreciated when you are a starving student (although these days there are not quite as many starving students as there were in my day - and even in my day we always seemed to have money for a burger and a beer, although sometimes we would skip the burger and just have two beers)

Here is the problem. You are hiking along and come across an ant nest. The large pile of woody debris and the black and red insects scurrying about tells you it is some type of Formica (quite possibly Formica obscuriventris) but that is not what intrigues you at this moment. Your hiking companion, one of those liberal arts types and most probably a Poli-sci major, says “there must be a million ants in there!”

You know there are not a million ants in there – but just how many are there? You realize at this point that if you can devise a way to calculate the size of this colony (plus or minus say 10%) your biology prof would have to reconsider that substandard mid-term mark she gave you.

Here is the challenge: devise a methodology for estimating the population of ants in the anthill. The methodologies should have the following characteristics:

Time efficient (so tagging individual ants is out of the question)
Cost effective (side scanning xrays are also a non-starter)
Minimally intrusive (Spraying the hill with raid and counting the bodies won’t get very high marks either – although one may have to sacrifice a few ant mounds to verify your original assumptions)
Accurate – a methodology is no good if you can’t rely on the results to reflect the real world.

I don’t know what the prize will be yet but I am thinking either a hot new 4x4, a lunch at Hero’s, or maybe a copy of “The Camp Fire Leader’s Book”. The monetary value is not quite as important as being crowned the methodology champ of biological science.

But now I must get back to counting the control . . .

And now for something completely different

2010-10-27T06:27:00.000-07:00

The above video is just my way of sharing a beautiful fall day up on the Tranquille River, which is part of the Lac Du Bois Grasslands Provincial Park. The colours are almost mother nature's way of saying "Sorry for what I'm about to do to you"

I am not a big fan of the winter months. Not like some who believe that you have to go hungry to enjoy a good meal later, I think I can quite enjoy my summers without having to live through a winter.

I am still working with my software, trying to get just the right settings to show what the new Sony NexVG10 can do, so please hang in there while I figure out all the bells and whistles of the new system.

What's new pussy-cat?

2010-10-26T06:20:00.000-07:00

Actually I should of had a picture of a pussycat to go with the above title, but I am at present too filled with sloth to look through my volumes to find the aforesaid pic.

I think it is the dark dreary days of fall that have been getting me down - those and the six fudge brownies and the coronas that passed for supper last night. Oh, and about the fudge brownies. . . .

I guess that is what I should write about today - how not to make fudge brownies. Even if the recipe doesn't call for it, a seasoned chef, such as myself, should know to lightly grease and flour the pan before adding the dough. I didn't and I ended up with and upside-down -sideways wreck of a pile of baked brownie goo when I went to release it from the pan. Still very delicious but not very presentable. Loyd and I fell upon the mess like pirates on a merchant ship so as to destroy any evidence of my mistakes.

I had to quickly rebuild the project as I had promised my good wife that I would bake something for her drum group. This time it worked perfectly. My secret - add a cup or two of chocolate chips to the mix - which gives it that extra blast of sugar and chocolaty goodness. Here's the recipe for

Frank's no-fail fudge-ee-ohs brownies!

Melt 3/4cup butter in glass bowl in microwave

Add two cups white sugar and beat in

Add big splash of vanilla extract

When mixture is cool add three eggs and beat til smooth

In a second bowl mix together

1.5 cups flour

.5 cup cocoa

1 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp salt

1-2 cups chocolate chips

Mix the contents of the two bowls together

Turn out on a lightly greased and floured 8x11.5 pan

(or whatever your smallest cake pan is - I like to use the blue glass one that I keep next to the flour bin)

Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes

When the brownies start to pull away from the edge of the pan, they are done.

Remove and cool before cutting

And for no particular reason, other than I have just finished it, here is my latest clip from the world of youtube.

Not another ghost story

2010-10-21T12:34:00.000-07:00

Every now and then something happens that really sends a chill down your spine. I'm talking about one of those moments when you feel totally ill at ease and even skeptics like myself feel like there is another entity present in the area even though nothing can be seen or sensed within the physical realm.

So it was the other evening when I went out into the hills south of town to get a time-lapse shot of the sunset with my new video camera (the Sony Nex VG10).

The area I had visited needs to remain vaguely described for reasons which will become apparent later. One of the reasons I can state now is that there is no need to panic otherwise sensible people.

This area I was in was the approximate site of the disappearance of a group of hikers from back in the 60's. The local story is that the group had gone out on a warm fall afternoon to commune with nature as was the habit of the flower children of that era and perhaps to partake of the low grade reefer that was available in those days.

Three days later, when they had not yet returned a search party was dispatched and their VW micro-bus was quickly located, but not a sign of the hikers was ever discovered. Rumours persisted for many years about aliens, wood spirits, and military experiments in the area, but of course nothing was ever proven.

Records of the disappearance were quickly lost and as none of the hikers had any permanent links within the community, even the oral history of the disappearance almost died away. I had heard the story personally from an old rancher in the area some fifteen years ago when I was pursuing a story of a completely different nature - a story which would be an interesting enough yarn of itself but would merely serve as a digression now.

I passed the story off as a fanciful yarn and had all but forgotten it until this last evening. After capturing the image of the setting sun I compressed the time sequence and on playing it back got this very weird sounding audio track.

I don't believe in ghosts but this thing gave me the willies. One could almost argue that these are the sounds of something, or some "ones" long since departed, that are still trying to communicate with us on the other side.

I don't think I'll be heading back to those hills by myself in the evenings for quite some time.

Ram a lam a ding dong

2010-10-10T17:56:00.000-07:00

Okay this post has nothing to do with the 50's hit by "Big Wheelie and the Hubcaps" (Or whoever it was that did it - and I don't have the luxury of googling the info right now - maybe one of my fine readers can comment with the right info on that one) but there I have digressed immensely and created yet another run on sentence that would have my old English teacher spinning in his grave (if he were in fact in one and not running about like some modern day Don Quixote).

So where was I? Oh yes, the ram thing. I went out for a hike today to get an idea of where the rams were and to test out my new camera. I found these two young rams who, by way of their youngness - and a gale force wind, did not hear me approach, and I managed to get some decent footage. Now my brother tells me if I were to just swing by Mt. Paul I can get much easier footage through the page wire on the sheep fence along the highway. These sheep are much more civilized and are used to human stalkers.

I may try the Mt. Paul sheep another time but I like the challenge of getting on to these "wild" Kamloops lake sheep.

Anyways, hope you enjoy, and Mr. Fieber, you can stop spinning now.

Math to the rescue

2010-10-07T20:22:00.000-07:00

How many times has a student, bored to tears, in a math class, said "When am I ever going to use that?"

Now I have been a part of that group, but that was in fifth year university and the formula in question looked as though someone had thrown up a bowl of alphabet soup on the chalkboard. And, "No" I have never had call to use one of those formulas, but I think it did build character or something.

A formula one does have call to use though, are the simple geometric formulas for various shapes. My latest hike out to Kenna Cartwright Park proved this as I pondered the plethora of pocket gopher spoils. The spoils being the dirt pushed out of the burrows that they are constructing with great fervor these days out in the grasslands.

I said to myself - "Self," I says, "Just how long are those burrow?" One could find a long bendy stick I guess and shove it down one of the holes but that process is fraught with danger (especially for the pocket gopher). So instead I turned to math.

I calculated the volume of the spoils, and then calculated the length of the cylinder that had the diameter of the burrow and the volume equal to the volume of the spoils.

The result was that a relatively small volume of dirt was representative of a very long burrow. Of course there are a bunch of assumptions as to the compaction of the soil and the lack of variance in the size of the burrow, and a host of other things that some masters student can tackle when they write their definitive work on the burrowing habits of the pocket gopher.

The video below demonstrates both the math and the fact that I have too much time on my hands.

Almost in a new snack bracket!

2010-09-20T20:18:00.000-07:00


Almost as much as I made when I shoveled coal in Cape Breton

So about three months ago when I decided I would try the Google Adsense program, and when I signed up for YouTube to put ads on my moose calling video, it was more as a lark than as a serious business venture. But if you look at the screen shot above you can see that I almost made enough today to pay for an extra large double double and an apple fritter.

All kidding aside though, I now see the potential in this framework. Maybe a little too much like the little boy who was such an optimist that, on receiving a bucket of horse poop for his birthday, began running around looking for the pony.

Well, I am off looking for that pony now. I will be expanding my exposure on Youtube - which is rather ironic because I have been expanding my waistline sitting at the computer - and I will be launching a number of soon to be hit websites. You will be able to tune in to such sites as: Ask Frank (in which desperate readers send in their questions to which I will reply - "Do I look like I care?"), or "How dead is it?" in which peole can send in shots of roadkill and I will tell what it was, when it was hit and by what. The list is almost endless and this new phase of mine will probably be marked as the point at which the internet died!

Now off to outsource another couple of sites to my new-found friends in India and that will be the subject of my next posting.

Can't win in the photography game

2010-09-19T17:24:00.000-07:00

Golden mantled ground-squirrel

So, on one of my trips this summer we had occasion to take a shortcut on a backroad over the Purcell mountains between Kootenay Lake and Cranbrook. It was on this lonely stretch of road that we came upon a golden mantled ground-squirrel and then, a little further down the road, a pride of Pikas.

Now I don't know what the proper moniker for a group of the little rodents is, but "pride of Pikas" has a nice ring to it.

Anyhow, I got some photos, not great by any stretch of the imagination, but good enough to share with my less critical friends and of species rare enough that I was feeling pretty good about my efforts.

I returned home, uploaded my photos and fired up my email and got ready to send off the aforementioned photos. Before I could though, I noticed an email from my friend Peter (the real wildlife photographer) who had been down in the the southern mountains as well.

I opened his message and was shocked to see that he had trumped me without even trying. Not only did he have golden mantled ground squirrel pictures and Pika pictures but he had a picture of a golden mantled ground-squirrel eating a Pika! At that point I realized I had better stick to the video stuff and leave the still photos to others.

Pika (not being eaten by a golden mantled ground squirrel)

Slowly working my way back

2010-09-16T19:50:00.000-07:00

It seems like a lifetime since I last made an entry into my blog. Fortunately the reasons for my absence have all been good.

August was pretty much taken up with music festivals and I've got a whack of great performers that I want to introduce you to. (A "whack" being more than a bundle and less than a slew) And the road trips to the various festivals provided me with enough fodder to load the literary cannon a couple of times over.

Sandwiched between all of that was a summer full of birding, filming, and a hike or to into the mountains.

So now when I finally have something to write about I no longer have a teacher who wants a 500 word essay on "What I did this summer"

And as I don't really have time for this entry - just waiting for the mothership to contact me - and that's yet another story - so instead I'll get you to watch this little film, Loyd, Peter and I put together.

Just back from the Trophies

2010-08-11T05:58:00.000-07:00

It's been a hectic summer and will get more hecticer I am sure! ONly have time to post some quick pics from my trip across the Trophies/Table and Battle mtns. The story will follow in the fall when I have slowed down.

Great bunch of 11 Dutch that I guided on one of the "great" hikes of North America. Unfortunately the bugs and weather took turns tormenting us.

A really good hike

2010-08-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

Peter Sulzle - famed wildlife photographer

How can you tell if you have been on a really good hike? For me, success is measured by whether or not they have to send out the search party. So, by all accounts, last evening's/night's hike was a total success.

My friend Peter (whom I shall write more about later) and I decided to head up Wheeler Mountain to get some sunset shots and possibly some photos of the bighorn sheep that sometimes congregate on the cliff tops. The trip is not particularly arduous. But having said that, I should add that the road to the hike can be perilous, the hike itself is steep and dry, and there are numerous opportunities along the way to fall or impale one's self - so arduous no, but if I had a better vocabulary I could come up with a word that would convey: stupid, strenuous and little chance of a payout.

So Peter and I set out on this trip with a yet to be determined adjective and, with that optimism that all photographers/videographers have, we started to look for things to shoot. At this point I should introduce Peter. Peter is an excellent photographer and you can see some of his work at: http://www.blurb.com/books/599990. He is also one of the few people in Kamloops that likes to go on some of these more "adjective yet to be determined" hikes; more importantly he doesn't complain if I stop to take ten minutes to round up an ant to feed to an antlion. Just as you can't mix birders and hikers, you can't mix photographers with just about any other subset of humanity - we just need our time to stop to get that all important shot.

From the outset we knew the trip was going to be good. We found a tree full of dragonflies, a sandpit with spadefooted toads, a new nesting site of the collared dove, blue grouse, chipmunks, rare butterflies (okay maybe not rare but neither of us knew their names), nighthawk young, fresh bear tracks, a deer mouse, antlions by the handful and a great sunset sequence.

Yes the hike was long and made harder with the thick pall of smoke that hung in the summer evening like the air in a 50's roadhouse - but it was worth it. Especially since, once we had won the top of the Wheeler cliffs, a strong breeze started and the air cleared and the perfect sunset sequence presented itself (I'll post once I get around to processing it).

We waited until the sun had set and hiked out through the now growing darkness, marveled at the nighthawks wheeling overhead, and then marveled at the loud thunk my truck made while sliding down the rough gravel track that was once a road.

It was this loud thunk that sort of knocked the wheels off of our adventure. I am no mechanic but I know that front-end thunks and a subsequent growl are usually not good. The vehicle was still drivable - but only at about 20kmh. So it was a long slow drive back to my folk's place where we had left Peter's vehicle. When we got back there was a note from my father saying he had gone to look for us. Since his vehicle was still in the driveway I knew he had pressed my brother into service. A quick call to my brother's house confirmed this and through the marvels of cellular communication we were able to call the search off.

I left the wounded vehicle to rest at my folk's place and Peter had to drive me home. So I dragged myself into the house, tired, dry, dusty and sporting a few new cuts, scraps and pulled muscles but I had a tape full of video, a chip with a some good shots and another great hike under my belt.

The red planet

2010-07-29T09:14:00.000-07:00

Okay, maybe it wasn't Mars but it sure was red. Here is a clip I posted of the new moon rising over Rose Hill in late July. I don't know why but Adobe couldn't handle the speed thing - or maybe my camera dropped some frames, but half way through it takes off pretty fast. The wolves howling were from a clip from somewhere else but seemed to add the necessary ambiance.

I'm Back - but just for a moment

2010-07-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

One of my forest friends

I haven't posted for awhile but I have a good excuse. I've been swamped at work, and when I haven't been working I have been making good use of the daylight with trips up Tranquille River and out through Kenna Cartwright Park.

I have got some pretty good video footage of coyotes, chipmunks, fires and lightning storms that I will share with you once I get time to process it and post it to YouTube.

In the meantime I will leave you with these couple of pictures pulled from my video, just so you know I haven't been shanghai-ed and shoveling coal on a slow boat to China.

The trickster - Kenna Cartwright Park

What, another contest?

2010-07-13T10:57:00.000-07:00

So here it is - watch this short video and name the three mammals, three insects, two types of berries, two flowers, one bird and one lichen that are featured in the video.

If you get all twelve then you are a top notch naturalist. Ten or more and you are in the top 99.5% of the world's naturalists. Seven to nine right makes you a good student of nature. Three to six correct and you can still go hiking with me. If you know less than three of these items, and live in North America, then it is time to get off of your couch, lace up the boots and get out for some face to face time with mother nature!

Somebody owes me some MAD money!

2010-07-08T22:40:00.000-07:00

I think the similarities are obvious (Alfred E. Neuman left, and author right, circa 1966)

They say if you look long enough you will come across your exact double. I was hoping mine would be more in keeping with a character like Sam Spade, or Archie of Nero Wolfe fame. But no, I am going through some old family photos and I see that Mad Magazine had shamelessly copied my image to use as their mascot.

So, I did some quick thinking and I figure my likeness has been used nearly 173,208 times in the Mad Magazine (yes I googled it) and that, at a nominal rate of $127.80 per use - the standard modeling fee, pro-rated for compound interest - I should be in line for a image use cheque in the neighbourhood of $2.1 million dollars.

Once my cheque comes in, I'll put up my feet and I'll be the one saying "What, me worry?"

Holy Guacamole Batman!

2010-07-04T17:47:00.000-07:00

Peppers, garlic and onions before the beef.

I just realized it has been a fortnight or two since I have posted a recipe, and having just finished an incredibly delicious meal with my daughter, I thought I would share this little culinary gem. The following is my Mexican inspired, somewhat local meal plan.

It is basically a nacho dish made with local beef - check out The Chop N Block, for some of the best local beef around, fresh produce, picked up at Gourmet Greens, and some Fresh is Best tortilla chips. I will have to talk to the owners of the other two shops as they don't have a website yet, but we won't hold that against them. I like to shop with local merchants when they provide me with service, quality products, and fair prices and all three of the aforementioned do just that.

So the process is simple: heat up your cast iron skill with a light swirl of oil and saute the following chopped items: 3 or 4 cloves of garlic, half an onion, half of each red, green, yellow and orange peppers. Once the vegetables are about half way done, add .5 to .75 kilos of lean ground beef, brown and season with: season salt, garlic powder, Montreal Steak Spice and a shot or two of Frank's Hot Sauce.

While the meat is browning, make your guacamole. I use: 3 ripe avocados, 1/2 tomato, 1/3 onion, juice from half a lemon, couple shots of Tabasco sauce, pinch or three of salt, 2 or three cloves of garlic (optional and not traditional). All of these ingredients are chopped coarsely and then blended together with a power blender. I season as I'm building this as it varies with the size of your avocados.

To serve, it is just a layer of tortilla chips, a layer of the meat mixture, cheese and a big dollop of guacamole on top. Served hot with a nice cold beverage and a view of the North Thompson in the valley below, it could not get any better.

Happy Canada Day

2010-07-01T06:49:00.000-07:00

We stand on guard for thee!

Not a lot of time to write this morning as I am heading off for the park to take in the festivities. I did have to make a quick entry to say that I realize how lucky I was to be born in a country as great as Canada.

Unfortunately there are many that have not yet clued into the fact that Canada is something special, and by their indifference we will suffer. Show your fellow Canadians that you care about your country: volunteer at something, pick up litter even if it is not yours, reduce, reuse and recycle, hug your kids - do anything that shows you care about those things that make Canada great. Then when you are singing those words about "standing on guard for thee" you can really belt it out because you have done your bit to protect our great land.

Now I shall go off to enjoy the patriotic fervor and hot dogs at Riverside Park.

Peace - eh?

Orange and Yellow

2010-06-29T06:24:00.000-07:00

orange form of the Prickly Pear Cacti flower

the more common yellow form of the Prickly Pear Cacti

Here's an interesting question to the botanists in the group. Why does the Prickly Pear Cacti sometimes produce orange flowers instead of the more standard yellow?

There are many possible answers: differences in soil, differences in genetics, differences in age. While each might be a good answer, logic and observation would tell us that each proffered reason doesn't make sense. If the variation was due to soil, then all of the cacti in the one clump should exhibit the same colour. If it was genetic, then again, the cacti in a group should all be showing the same characteristics (most cacti reproduction is from budding - or so I believe). Finally, if colour were age dependent then there should be a whole lot more orange cacti, or at least as many as the age distribution would suggest.

No, there is something much more interesting going on in the world of the cacti. I offer up the question to some bright young mind heading off for an interesting stint of studentism at our beloved Thompson Rivers University.

Or, if one of you kind readers know what is going on, please feel free to comment and let us all know.

P.S. John Foster wrote: In the Genus Acer, the variation in the colour of fall leaves has to do with sugar, moisture and pigment content. I just read that one explanation for variation in Opuntia flower colour also has to do with moisture and sugar content. If flowering is asynchronous, then indeed moisture, and sugar content would influence colour.

Hicktown?

2010-06-24T10:07:00.000-07:00

The view from here

Nothing says "hick town" more than coming into an airport and having to pay to use the WIFI connection. But before I get into that I should state that I will be posting this rant from the airport in Calgary because I know that it, like so many other real city airports has free internet connections for its travelers. I was off on another business trip and wanted to check some emails but find that YKA still requires you to ante-up before hopping onto their broadband.

The cost isn't the issue, it's the principal of the thing.

Don't get me wrong. I love Kamloops. Kamloops is by far the greatest city in the world in which to live. Now I haven't seen all the other cities but I have seen quite a few and apart from some cervezca inspired love affairs with villages in Spain and Mexico, nothing comes close to being a Kamloops.

But, and there is most always a but, but if we are ever to shake off our image of being a poor cousin to Kelowna or a whistle-stop on the way to the Rockies then we have to step up to the plate. We have a very strong tech sector in town but who knows it? Wouldn't it be wise for the city to fill in the WIFI dead zones with free public access. Sure, you could have a little splash screen that welcomes the user to "Kamloops - where ideas grow" but other than that the service would be free.

As a tech traveler, internet access is one of the top items in my checklist in rating cities, hotels, restaurants and airports. Yes - the Kamloops airport is tops in its facilities, staff and convenience but consider the following scenario:

A business traveler is checked into the airport and needs to check a couple of quick emails before returning to the head office. He is about to make up his mind as to whether or not to relocate to Kamloops but his deliberations are paused as he has to fork over his credit card number to get onto WIFI. WIFI which, up till now, he has been getting for free on his cross Canada journey. Kamloops is not as tech-friendly as he had been led believe. His new office ends up in Road Narrows Saskatchewan.

While the aforementioned scenario is admittedly a bit of a stretch, the impression left on business travelers is not. Free, community sponsored WIFI in strategic locations is a smart investment in our future.

P.S. Arrived in Calgary, booted up, logged on using my facebook account, and hopefully the airport mined all of my data to learn what type of traveler was using their system and we are both the happier for it.

P.P.S. Flew out of Grande Prairie (population about 40K) and their municipal airport had free WIFI. Greatly appreciated the gesture so I think I may open my latest internet venture there. :)

The mystery of the glacial sandwich

2010-06-21T21:46:00.000-07:00

Red = Silt layer, Blue = Glacial debris?

Bluffs on the east side of the Tranquille River

Now for something completely different I offer up the following mystery. On the hills to the east of the Tranquille river is an exposed piece of real estate. Like some giant turkey club sandwich, minus the turkey and all the good stuff of course, is a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded in a riddle (or something like that).

The gravel bars could have been deposited by either a river, or more likely a glacier and the silt could have been deposited when the lake covered the land. That would explain the bottom layers of the sandwich, but why the next two layers? My understanding was that there was an ice age that covered this area a couple of years ago, but this sandwich seems to suggests that the ice age was duplicated at least once and possible twice.

Or is there some other explanation for the gravel deposits: was it giant pocket gophers, or perhaps aliens experimenting with terraforming? I for one am flummoxed. And I am sure there are not many of you that can truthfully say that you have had occasion to say the word flummoxed, so "Ha" on that one as well. Unless, of course you can come up with the real reason behind the giant silt and gravel club sandwich sitting out behind our fair city, in which case you can say "ha" to me, and I will be your most humble servant as always. . . FR

Addendum:

I wrote to, and got a quick response from Ken Klein of Thompson Rivers University. Ken is the resident geologist at TRU and he writes:

I would have to look at the glacial debris to determine if it was a delta or ice deposited - my best guess from the picture is glaciofluvial delta deposits covered by lake sediments then more delta and then more lake sediments. Glacial activity in the interior was very cyclic with many periods of warm alternating with cold - hence the researched salmon remains of about 17-19,000 years of age. Water and Ice levels fluctuated with deltas being inundated with rising water and lake deposits....then becoming exposed and recovered with delta material - if the coarser material is glacial ice deposited till then it simply marks advance, retreat, melt, advance, retreat, melt etc........that is all I can attest to from the photo....Ken

So I guess I was somewhat close is my guess-timation I just did not know that so many glaciers visited our area.

Happy Father's Day Dad

2010-06-19T16:35:00.000-07:00

Dad on Battle Mountain from a hike we made a few years back

Father's day, as a commercial venture, falls behind every other holiday in terms of sales. Perhaps only beating out Groundhog day, which really isn't much of a holiday, father's day seems to be a bit of a lame duck.

Not that retail sales alone should be the measure of success - although I am sure there are some fathers out there that would appreciate a large screen T.V. or a new set of golf clubs as a measure of respect. My father won't be getting either of those as he has the former, doesn't use the latter, and I couldn't afford either. Instead he will be getting the pleasure of my company out for a hike up along the Tranquille River. But then there is a good chance that he may be gone on a hike of his own, in which case it may be a belated father's day gift for sure.

My own son was home for the weekend last and he suggested we go for a hike. That was perhaps the greatest father day's gift he has yet given me. While I am sure the pencil holders he built with their macaroni motifs were made with great love, they compared little to the act of going out on a hike together.

Hiking together is a way of saying, yes I enjoy the same trails that you do. Of course by trails I am speaking metaphorically and one could substitute the term "life and all of its glory" for the more mundane bit of clod that we tread upon.

I'm quite proud to say that I still enjoy the same trails that my father treads. Perhaps even more proud to say that he still hikes along those trails with a gait that many, twenty years his junior, would have a hard time matching. So while the other fathers will be getting their slippers and easy chairs, my Dad will be getting a ride out to yet another trail on which to go exploring. It'll be a few years yet before he's ready for slippers.

My kids who also hike the same trails as I

We now pause for this ad from our sponsor

2010-06-16T17:30:00.000-07:00

Almost a hundred-aire

The astute reader will notice that I have added ads to my blog. This is as much an experiment as it is a get rich quick scheme. Hopefully the experiment will be a much more resounding success than the get rich portion of the plan has been to date.

I was setting up a Google account for a new business I am working for and I came across an account I had forgotten I had set up. Thoughts of untold fortunes raced through my mind as I frantically fought to remember my password for the account. It wasn't much of a stretch as I use the same password for everything and once I could remember my birth-date I was into the account.

The above balance did not quite move me into the tax bracket that I wanted so I started to think about how I could monetize other aspects of my on-line life. My blog struck me as a good starting point. The ads that google serves up are supposed to be based on your content and as I write about so many different things it will be interesting to see how well they match ads to site content.

Each month I will post how much money we have made. When I get my first pay-cheque I will do something wild and crazy with it: either donate to clean up the Gulf coast or buy some beer. I think I'm leaning towards the later. So please, everyday, after reading my blog - click on two or three ads and watch the pennies roll in!

Funny Pages and Renewable Energy

2010-06-14T05:13:00.000-07:00

Lots of good reading material like this at the new Kamloops "Funny Pages"

There's a lot going on this week in Kamloops. First, we've got the big Kamloops Energy Fair at MacArthur Island on Saturday the 19th. Check it out at: Energy Fair. I've attended this event in the past and it's always nice to go around and see what new technology is out there. If you're at all interested in sustainable energy you owe it to yourself and the planet to become better informed.

The other big event, and perhaps only big to me and certain other cool people, is the grand opening of a store called Funny Pages. Funny Pages is located at 373 Victoria St. Kamloops (right beside Zacks) and is a great source for old-school comic books. I am an avid reader of the golden age comic books - you know - the ones where the lines between good and evil aren't yet blurred and good always triumphs. I'd give you a link to their site but I don't think they have one. For the any collector this will be a great sale as all their comic books are half off. I plan on loading up. Funny pages is also a great source for vintage vinyl which seems to be making a resurgence amongst collectors.

My posts must be short these days as I am in the midst of many paying projects and must crank out a few more websites and marketing campaigns. I will however have some video to share once I get around to uploading my latest shots of some young crows in our backyard.

A long ways from home

2010-06-10T14:57:00.000-07:00

Adrift on a sea of concrete.

It's been awhile since I posted to my blog but then things have been busy. I have been on the road for quite some time and am hunkered down in a concrete bunker in the beautiful hamlet of Kitchener. Now those with a keen ear can hear the sarcasm in my voice.

I know it's not nice to bad mouth another's home but I'm afraid that I just can't warm up to the notion of the asphalt kingdoms that we produce. Urban sprawl from the center of the hive (Toronto) spews out in all directions, much like a plume of BP oil. Unfortunately though, unlike the BP plume, this sprawl will never be capped. I'm hoping those brave Manitobans will be able to construct some type of dike at their borders that will force the super-city to turn back on itself and force the toxic plume of civilization eastward.

Wait now, the sun is poking out again and the city doesn't look quite so bad. Perhaps I am just bitter from the food poisoning I got last night. It has been awhile since I felt that rough and so, like a snake who has been handled a little too roughly, I want to strike out and bite anything close to me. Sorry Kitchener.

I've met some nice people here - mainly cab drivers. It is interesting how each city gets its cab drivers from a different part of the world. Here, they are from Russia and the surrounding countries. My last cabbie was a very happy and well spoken Serbian who was bent on saving us some cabfare by taking every shortcut imaginable. His best maneuver consisted of scooting across 3 lanes of oncoming traffic, cutting across a lawn, through a parking lot and zipping across 5 lanes of traffic and coming to a screeching halt in the parking lot of our hotel. He managed to knock 5 cents off the previous fare and about 5 years off my life.

I think I now know how Geronimo felt when he was taken from his homelands and imprisoned in the east. He told his captors "The pinyon-jay pines for me." I would like to think that the yellow bellied racers are missing me but I know better. Geronimo never made it home. Hopefully I'll fare better.

A recipe to share

2010-06-06T06:32:00.000-07:00

"Graffitti from Barcelona -

A picture that has nothing to do with a Pineapple Carrot Cake Recipe"

A friend asked for this recipe and I hate to admit but it is pretty much an "as-is" recipe from the internet. I have made a couple of crucial changes: adding raisins, more eggs, spices and substituting brown for white sugar and upping that a little. As with all recipes, you need to make it your own somehow.

I first made this one up in Big Meadow and every one of the workers had a complaint when I told them what was in it. Somebody didn't like: raisins, pineapple, or walnuts. However, after the meal, not a single piece of cake was left, and it had been a very large cake and there were only four of us at the table!

PINEAPPLE CARROT CAKE

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon nutmeg (optional)
Pinch of allspice (optional)
2 cups brown sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
4 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups grated carrots
1 cup flaked coconut
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 (8 ounce) can crushed pineapple, drained
1-2 cups raisins (soaked and drained in hotwater)

Frosting:
1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese
1/4 cup butter, softened
2 cups confectioners' sugar
teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Remove butter and cream cheese from refrigerator and allow to warm up to room temperature 30 minutes in advance.
Wash, peel, and grate the carrots
Mix together flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and spices as desired
Beat the eggs, add the sugar.
Add the flour mixture to the egg mixture gradually. Add oil and vanilla. Beat for 1 minute at medium speed of electric mixer.
Using a wooden spoon (or other large spoon) stir in the grated carrots, coconut, crushed pineapple, raisins and finally the walnuts.
Mix well and turn out into a buttered and floured 9x13 inch pan.
Bake at 350°F for approximately 45 minutes or until cake is no longer moist in center and begins to pull away from edges of pan. (The toothpick test won't work on this cake!).
To prepare frosting, beat cream cheese with butter and a few drops vanilla extract or rum; when completely mixed, beat in the confectioners' sugar until the frosting is a spreadable consistency. Frost cake while still slightly warm.

Quick Robin - to the Bat Cave!!

2010-06-04T08:06:00.000-07:00

Dr. Cheeptham points out a possible location to test for new microbes.

Well we weren’t going to the bat caves, and it was far from being a quick trip, so I pretty much got the title wrong – but I did get you to read this far. Back in my newspaper days I learned that the editor/page layout guy’s job was to get a title that grabbed the reader’s attention and need only be remotely related to the subject matter.

So, assuming that you are still with me on this one I can now launch into the story of our trip to the BearCat caves. I had been planning for months to take the Kamloops Naturalist Club to the BearCat caves as I wanted a hike that was a little more strenuous than our standard fare. I also figured that I had best take a pre-scout of the trip to ensure that the hike went without incident – it’s a good thing that I did.

Between the Mountain Pine beetle, the Douglas Fir Tussock moth, and a severe winter storm, the forest surrounding the caves had been decimated. Blowdown was stacked over 2 meters high in places and even the deer would have trouble making their way through the forest now. It was a long slow hike to the caves but we pressed on and were well rewarded for our efforts.

The we in this story, included myself, my father and a new conscript to our adventures: Dr. Naorwarat Cheeptham (Ann). Ann is an expert in the field of micro-biology and is a professor and researcher at TRU. I had heard of her studies and had invited her along to see if this particular set of caves was suitable for her studies. What she does is very interesting and my understanding of the process is as follows: she collects, and analyzes new strains of microbes found in extreme conditions (in this case, caves) and from these microbes they can find all types of agents that may have uses in medicines and/or extend our knowledge of the “nature of things.”

One of the areas of research that I think is extremely cool is the idea that microbes might be able to communicate with others through the secretion of certain enzymes that signal the existence or lack of food. At a philosophical level this would change our perception of what a sentient being was and would be a great blow to vegetarians the world over.

The hike, although difficult, was pleasant as father was along to point out a great variety of plant life and animal sign to Ann. This kept the two of them occupied while I forged ahead trying to find the path of least resistance through the heaps of blowdown. Our finds of interest were: Morels, Chanterelles, slime molds, Calypso orchids, Indian paintbrush, and a great variety of mammal poop.

Eventually the caves were reached and Ann and I made our way through the most accessible passageways while father remained above ground. Please note: It is always advisable on a trip like this to keep at least one person above ground to go for help in case the crew gets stranded below. The caving went without incident and after checking out the cave’s suitability for further research (it is) we ascended and fought our way back through the fallen forest to my faithful Ford.

Sneaking up on the dangerous Morel

A splash of gold amongst the greenery - which is my way of saying I don't know what this flower is!

A feast for the senses

2010-06-01T05:48:00.000-07:00

Lisa in the marcado - spelling of which may be wrong -or as the Spanish would say "wrongo"

I don't know if it is just because one is taken out of their usual surroundings that the senses are raised to another level, or if it really is the case that everything does taste better in Spain. I was flipping through my photos, as I often do, searching for inspiration, when I came across these from the marcado in Barcelona.

Now I had been in Spain last year, visiting my daughter Lisa and she had taken me on a tour of the big city and at the end of the day we stopped by the marcado to pick up the groceries for the next couple of days. This was the highlight of my trip.

The Spanish know what good food is all about. Fresh produce from the farms, fruits from both Spain and neighbouring countries, meats of every type imaginable, seafood - some of which I had never seen before, and chocolates and sweets of every variety.

My senses were in overdrive. The grit and coolness of a fresh carrot, the brilliant reds of washed tomatoes next to every hue of green of the cilantros, parsleys and other herbs that I have no idea of what they were called or used for. The sounds of hundreds of people content in their business of buying or selling food. And the smell of fresh fruits, vegetables and meats: smells which, while strong, were not overpowering. Sometimes the smell of a market can be a little too strong as they often are in the warmer countries where refrigeration is the exception and not the rule.

It took us about an hour and a half to make our way through the market, checking out all the different offerings. At the end we had four bags of fresh everythings and it cost us about twelve dollars.

You could even buy beer on tap at the market. My love affair with Spain had started.

fresh, cured, salted or in sausages - meat is available in just about every configuration possible

Man eating plant - or should that be plant eating man?

2010-05-28T06:14:00.000-07:00

A Sun Dew - insectivorous plant from Wells Gray Provincial Park

When you think of the carnivorous plants you think of the jungles of the Amazon and the hot steamy climates of the south. But, there are carnivorous plants right in our own backyard - that is assuming you have a big backyard that includes Wells Gray Provincial Park.

A number of the bogs up in the park are home to the insectivorous Sun Dew. The Sun Dew, like the other insectivorous plants evolved this way to make up for minerals lacking in the soil, and consequently, are found in bogs exhibiting very similar characteristics. I guess the bog nature is a substrate that is basically dead plant material with no, or very few, minerals present.

As kids we would bring plant specimens home and try to feed them. The show wasn't quite the snapping and growling and great struggle that we had envisioned. For the most part, the Sun Dews could only hold very small insects and it was somewhat like watching paint dry.

Next time you're out and about and come by a potential Sun Dew habitat, typically a pond that is slowly transforming to a marsh, get down on your hands and knees and see if you can find this diminutive predatory plant. Remember - don't get your fingers too close!

How crowd sourcing can solve a 50 million year old mystery

2010-05-25T21:02:00.000-07:00

A rare fossil of a worm, or perhaps the tongue of an alien?

More probably a root and some leaves from McAbee

So, in keeping with my vow to keep the posts a little different I present project #928. On a recent trip to the McAbee fossil beds I realized there is a serious problem facing paleontologists. I mean besides having to fit the word paleontologist on a business card. The real problem is the huge number of specimens that they need to muscle their way through to find the gems. There are literally tons of fossils in the area and it would be next to impossible for one team to review, catalog and collate all of the data associated with even a relatively small collection.

So my solution is brilliant (if I may use such an adjective and still remain my modest self) and surprisingly simple - which, while out of character for me, makes the adoption of the process much more likely. I say "employ crowd sourcing".

So, in a nutshell, or whatever they had for nut shells 50 million years ago, the solution is this: photograph all of the fossils in the collection at high resolution and record where in the stratum the fossil came from. The idea is to build a three dimensional matrix so one can approximate the forth dimension (time) for where these fossils existed relative to one another.

Step two is to serve up the fossils via the internet for people to analyze and catalog for the researcher. Field guides, and computer tools could be built into the system to help the amateur paleontologist with the task at hand - as well, pattern recognition could be built into the software so the computer could pick out ginkgo leaves and the like.

The paleontologist could, taking a break from redesigning his business cards, review the data from the crowd and quickly hone in on fossils that are being flagged as having items worthy of review. As well, an elaborate reconstruction of the environment as it existed at the time of the fossils could be built - the relative number of plants over a huge sample size could help with the reconstruction of how the ecosystems worked back in the day.

One day, a forward thinking paleontologist will come up with the same idea, and probably win a Nobel prize for it, but you my kind reader, will remember that you actually heard the concept here first.

Forget Superboy - Watch out for The Jaguar!

2010-05-22T16:32:00.000-07:00

A very rare issue of a 1963 copy of The Jaguar - valued at about twelve cents

I was doing my octa-annual house cleaning (or whatever the proper term for every eight year period is) when I became sidetracked. On my night-table, were a stack of my golden age comics. Now some of the comics were still in those crazy collector bags that people feel save the comic from the ravishes of time - and I'm sure if I had an Action Comic #10 I would be sure to employ a little more care - but for now, I believe comics were meant to be read.

And so I started flipping through the pages of a great variety of comics and had a really good read. Not only were the stories amusing, but the era that they hearkened back to made one feel all nostalgic. I think I was most nostalgic for an era when you could use the term "hearkened back to" without being labeled as prehistoric.

What is interesting in the history of comics, is that you will notice the appearance of the Comic Code Authority stamp on the front cover of comics from the 50's onward. This was to avoid the tremendous pressures that morality groups were bringing to bear on the the youth of the nation. Prior to this self-regulating code, comics were getting to be a pretty good read: gore, hot steamy plots, and lots of stuff the adolescents of the time craved (and in fact still do).

I don't know when publishers got brave enough to dump the code but I will check that out and report back just like Clarke Kent would. In the meantime I am off to find out how the Jaguar defeats Mr. Big Brain.

Grease is the word

2010-05-19T20:40:00.000-07:00

Back in the day I was a greaser. Or at least I wanted to be a greaser. My hero was "John Milner" from American Graffiti, and if I smoked I would have kept a pack twisted into the arm of my t-shirt just like John did. Come on you gotta remember John, he was the guy with the 32 deuce coup and had the big race at the end of the show. But I digress, I wanted to be like John but since I was a delicate child all I could do was dream about being cool like him.

Whenever we had a 50's dance theme - I was there. I had practiced my jive moves till I was almost as cool as John, but with all that pseudo coolness comes great risk. A risk which I shall now illustrate.

It was in grade ten and as part of the lead up to our big 50's sock hop, a group of us were putting on a jive dance demonstration on the stage in front of some 400 of our peers. My partner was a cute and bouncy cheerleader who was definitely well typecast for the part (and I hasten to add it was not the girl in the above photo as this photo is some 2 years past the event I am about to describe - and that is not to say that Cindy was not a cute and bubbly cheerleader but if you are patient you will understand shortly why certain names must be kept secret)

Anyways, we were halfway through "Rock around the clock" and the cheerleader and I had centre stage. The series of moves we were about to execute were ones that we had down cold. She had her hands planted on my shoulders and I had a tight grip on her hips - and in a display of athleticism usually reserved for Cirque du-soleil performances - she bounced off that hardwood floor and swung up on my left hip - lifting her in perfect time with Bill Haley's driving beat I swung her over to my right side - pleated skirt billowing. Our movements were as one and I was now swinging her upwards, her legs arched high above and her face almost touching mine. Timing was critical here: hold the pose too long and her skirt would tumble down, but I had to hold the pose long enough for dramatic effect, and then for the grande finale she was to swing back down towards the floor, continue between my legs, her hands would slide from my shoulders, along my arms, we would clasp hands, I would do a quick crossover and pull her back between my legs and up to the thunderous applause of the audience.

The overhead stance was excellent, but I could feel my grip coming loose as she started the arc back towards the floor, I managed to hold on as she, smooth as silk, slid between my legs - my quick crossover went alright but as I tried to pull her back between my legs I realized things were going wrong. My hands were sliding up her arms and I had snagged the baggy letter-man sweater she was wearing. Instead of bringing the bouncy cheerleader back up I just had her sweater - she, quite topless had continued to slide across the stage and, fortunately for her, off to the stage left. I just stood there, holding the lifeless sweater like one would hold a dead cat. The laughter was deafening.

It would be a few more years before I would attempt cool again.

Square jawed and nerves of steel

2010-05-18T21:50:00.000-07:00

I collect stuff. Not so much any more, but I still collect stuff. My collecting has slowed down mainly because I have run out of space to put stuff. If I were to get some new stuff I would have to get rid of my old stuff - and my old stuff is pretty cool.

So instead I will start to use my blog to share some of my old stuff with you. The picture above is from an ad in an Esquire magazine and it is a classic. The ads in Esquire are for: booze, cigarettes, and stylish clothes for square jawed men who are smoking and drinking and doing manly stuff all at the same time.

Esquire had lots of women in the magazine but they were mainly there to bring more cigarettes and booze to the men as they were far too busy doing their manly stuff. I think that is a big reason why you see so many women from that era, widowed and wondering what happened to all the manly men.

Perhaps a steady diet of Johnny Walker and Marlboros wasn't the best health regime going. When I was growing up I could never figure out why it was that my dad didn't smoke and never had anything straight-up, on the rocks or even shaken and not stirred. But then he is now 85 and can out walk pretty much your average Canadian in almost all age groups.

Perhaps I'll go for a hike tomorrow - but first, a nightcap - perhaps a 7 and 7?

Hands-on science

2010-05-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

Snake we saw on a Naturalist Club field trip

There are two main trains of thought in the world of naturalists. The first groups subscribes to the notion that nature should be respected and viewed from a distance, with minimal interference. This group comprises about 98% of the naturalist movement. The smaller group, is comprised of the remaining three or four percent of us who are not good at math and less than good at keeping our hands off of nature.

I have been an ardent supporter of the idea that if you want people to become interested in a cause it has to be something that they can see, taste, touch, hear and smell. If you want a kid to get interested in nature - let him or her catch a mouse, pet a snake, or scoop up a jar of tadpoles. Yes, you have to do it respectfully, but you still have to do it.

The "hands-off" attitude to nature will only ensure that the kid turns towards the X-Box or PlayStation for their recreational fix, instead of getting plugged-into nature.

While I don't advocate the wholesale removal of wildlife from the surrounding environs, I think our laws could be lightened up a little to allow people to maintain small terrariums that they could then use to study wildlife and to develop a bond with nature.

Who would be more passionate and understanding of the need for wetlands than a kid who has raised a salamander or a frog?

When we were children we often had a terrarium with local specimens. We would feed and study these animals, and when we grew tired of collecting the worms, ant eggs, grubs or mice that they required we would return them back to where we had got them. As it stands now, you can't have an ant farm without a permit. That is just wrong.

I think its time the naturalist movement took a look at our laws and brought a more common sense approach to legislation and brought in some laws that would encourage kids to poke, probe and study nature. It will be these children that grow into the naturalists of tomorrow.

Redwinged blackbird protecting its territory

Western Toad: Buffo borealis - or something like that

2010-05-13T07:20:00.000-07:00

Western toad - note the white stripe down its back

Actually the Western toad is Bufo boreas but I like to make up names, especially if you have to do it under pressure. Bufo is Latin for toad - which I am sure we all remember from our Latin classes - and boreas or borealis is Latin for "northern." I like the borealis monicker as it evokes images of the Northern Lights.

If you check out the Canadian Wildlife Service website you will see that the toad is a species of concern. Which means they are worried but not too worried. Sort of like when you are trying to decide if you should eat the egg salad sandwich that has been out on the counter for an hour - you're worried but not too worried. Myself, I always eat the sandwich.

The toad is interesting for a number of reasons. It is relatively long living amphibian unless it gets run over by a car or stepped on by a horse - which seems to be the #1 and #2 causes of early demise in a toad. They don't get eaten much due to the fact that they are poisonous (and very fattening). Apparently, the poison affects your blood pressure, lowering it, and brings on hallucinations, vomiting and excessive drooling - I suspect it is the secret ingredient in a lot of beer.

This photo of a toad out by my garden I especially like because of the composition. by going to a panoramic frame the toad's size is exaggerated and you get the feeling of being down at his or her level. I will be going on safari at some point this spring/summer to film the mass toad migrations of Wells Gray Park. The event happens quickly and is a bit of a hit and miss thing but if timed right it is a truly spectacular sight.

Must hop along now.

Paper, stones, scissors

2010-05-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

Check out the age on this latest kidney stone I passed (magnified 2x)

Okay, I'm only going to talk about the stones part of the title today, so please no complaining afterward.

I am feeling crappy and, as it has been my experience that people in general and my friends in particular don't like to hear me whine, it will be a short post. I think I have passed enough kidney stones recently to open a small rock quarry. In fact I have posted a picture of a stone that has apparently been around in my system for quite some time.

Things will be better today I am sure.

In lieu of my posts making you happy I would like you to check out the link to David Francey's music on CBC Radio 3 and give him a listen. I know it works for me

Help requested from techno-geeks

2010-05-11T06:04:00.000-07:00

Water flows into the silver manifold on top and the cooler water drops down the vacuum tube, as it heats, the hot water rises and is moved along in the manifold by pump pressure.

I am working on my solar system - no I am not building my own solar system with planets and moons and such, which would be sort of cool, but no, it is more appropriately a solar heating system.

The system works very well and I had the water in the tubes to the almost catastrophic melt down point, just to see how hot I could get it. My exhaust venting worked well and the stress test was considered a success. What I need to improve on the system however is my monitoring.

At present I have two analog thermometers that tell me the water temperature coming into the system and the temperature leaving the system. I would like to set up the following sensors which could relay the information back to my computer without wires: pool temperature, water temp entering and exiting each solar panel, air temperature, wind speed, intensity of sun light, water flow through solar system.

With those metrics collected I could then determine optimal configurations for heating the pool - the biggest consideration being when one should cut the water flow through the tubes and when should the pool cover be in place.

The next step will be to automate the process so I can present the data on a website for use by others who wish to follow suit.

Where I need the assistance is in finding the hardware that will let me do this with a minimal amount of fuss and dollars. If any of my readers have come across a good source for these types of projects, please let me know. You can post a comment here as they get emailed directly to me.

But the sun is now cresting Mt. Paul and I'd better go out and tend to my solar system - I think I'll put the moon over here . . .

Fat lady sings - Cowboy poet dies!

2010-05-10T09:51:00.000-07:00

The CBC techies hard at work

Brent giving me an intro

Perhaps the title to this post is what I should have used as my six word entry in the final challenge of Canada Writes 2010. But I think it would have taken a lot more "perhaps' " and "what-ifs" to have had much of a chance against the other talent in the writing competition.

When all was said and done I think the whole exercise went much better than I had anticipated. My fixation with beer helped cover up and/or explained some of my lapses in writing and seemed to strike a chord with most of the judges and the audience. The irony of course is that my beer consumption rate is far below the average consumption rates for the typical Canadian male.

That is the beauty of being a writer though. You can create your own worlds, your own realities, and if you are good enough - you can invite others into those worlds.

I'm back in Kamloops now and I'm gearing up for some new projects: I have a pilot to prepare for a children's nature show we are trying to pitch to the learning channel. I have a radio play that I am wanting to pitch to CBC. I am burning incense and offering up chickens in a bizarre voodoo ritual with the intent of securing an interview with the people at TRU for a job as a research assistant. On top of all of that I am getting my solar system up and running and am trying to figure out how to spread the gospel about the benefits of augmenting the grid.

The solar project is going to take some work as I want to design a system that will automatically collect data from the system and post it onto a website so others wishing to invest in solar can see what the potential rewards are. For now I have a very low tech solution - I have thermometers on the intake and outflow sides of the solar panels and can record the differential in temperature. This differential, when multiplied by the volume of water going through the system will tell how many calories the system produces - a calorie being the amount of energy required to raise one gram of water one degree celsius.

So with my plate overflowing with projects again, I must sign off and get to work.

Peace out - keep your cinch tight and enjoy!

On the road to Winnipeg

Forget Snakes on Planes - Try kidney stones on planes!

2010-05-07T09:52:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here, quite comfortably I hasten to add, in the well appointed Delta Hotel in downtown Winnipeg.

Addicted as I am to maintaining my blog I spent the ten bucks it costs to get a connection for the internet and am happily catching up on my emails, blogs and other posts. Quick aside: Why is it at the Super Eight or the Blue Bell Motel in Fort St. John you get free wireless internet but the more expensive the hotel the more they charge you for what should be a free item?

So the trip out was quite eventful. Apart from our plane being two hours late in Calgary, I had the unexpected joy of attempting to give birth to a four pound kidney stone. Those that have had the joy of kidney stones will know of which I speak, for those that haven't - try to imagine a rabid ferret trying to gnaw it's way out of your lower intestine. The trip seemed to take forever but we finally landed in the (and I don't know what colloquialism they use for Winnipeg is but you can insert it here) city and we were met by my bleary-eyed in-laws. It was shortly after midnight their time.

I am afraid I was not much fun as we made the one hour drive back to their place. Unlike the strong silent types I am more of a free spirit when it comes to expressing my pain and I was howling like a coyote with a leg in a steel trap. Their threats of taking me to the local vet/doctor must of had some type of physical effect on me and the stone finally stopped. As long as it doesn't start moving between now and the end of the taping of the show tonight I will be fine.

I met up with Marc and Jason at the hotel and had a good time chatting with people equally as warped as I. Both Marc and Jason are like Brainiac from the old superman comic books - okay maybe they are not super-powered evil types but they are super smart and actually know stuff - I just know how to make obtuse references to stuff and they actually know what an obtuse angle is.

We made our way over to the CBC building where we met up with Saundra Vernon the other contestant and after quick introductions made our way up to write our one hour challenges.

Jill Walker, who looks after all of us contestants said I looked horrible but after I assured her that this was in fact how I normally looked she allowed me to continue to write. I was in fact feeling a little under the weather but had brought my secret weapons along: Mars bars and Tylenol. The tylenol would cut the pain and the Mars bar would provide mental alertness by depositing large amounts of sugar into my system.

I can't tell about what I wrote or how brilliant I was or wasn't but I did make it through the two hours and with the writing behind us we went out for supper and some drinks.

It was great being around people who shared the same sense of humour and could follow your logic no matter how convoluted it might be. I will sign off now and the next post will be after the competition and then we will never speak of the mother corporation again.

Now I'm really gone!

2010-05-05T06:41:00.000-07:00

Me and Ricco before being famous

So I checked my email this morning and I had a very good song suggestion by one of my co-workers from many years back. Alanna, with whom I worked in the newspaper business, has gone on to become a writer of incredible talent and covers international stories like the jet-setting heroines in those spy-thriller movies.

When I knew her however it was a much more mundane beat - reporting on the beer-belly league of men's hockey in Clearwater, BC and covering the escape of farmer Brown's prized Hereford. I sold ads for the paper and was allowed a small column on page 43 under the stipulation that I had to sell enough ads to make a 44 page newspaper. She has gone on to much better things - I went into the mountains and learned how to ride a horse.

Anyhow, she suggested I rewrite the words to Hallelujah and I did and here it is:

Two more beers Bro

Now I’ve heard there is a secret bar
Where rock still plays, and not so very far
But you don’t have the cover charge, do you?
What beer was this
The fourth, the fifth
I had a fall, I need a lift
But better yet I’ll have two more beers bro
Two more beers bro
Two more beers bro
Two more beers bro
Two more beers bro

The scotch was strong, some say over proof
Next thing you’re dancing on the roof
But security and cops overthrew you
They cuffed you
And wino bill
They harshed your vibe, and your buzz they killed
And from your lips I heard the “two more beers bro”
Two more beers bro
Two more beers bro
Two more beers bro
Two more beers bro

me and Ricco after being famous

Farewell and adieu

2010-05-04T21:00:00.000-07:00

Sunset last evening over Kamloops Lake

I had hiked out to my favourite little corner of Kenna Cartwright Park last evening - to get some more footage of the owls, stretch my legs and try to get my fix of bugs and snakes.

The weather had been miserable all day and there was a major round of hockey going on, so consequently I had most of the park to myself. The owls co-operated, the lighting even turned out to be all right as the storm passed and some of the setting sun's rays made it through the dead pines to illuminate my subjects.

After the obligatory 30 minutes of an owl sitting in a tree doing pretty much nothing, my mind wandered and I ambled off looking for other subjects. I found a Meadowlark staking out his territory and while filming that process I was treated to the chorus of coyotes from down the bluff.

But I must now pack my bags and get ready to head out for the bright lights of the 'Peg. I'm hoping they still take B.C. dollars at par out there. I will be back in a few days and will have great tales of excitement and "daring-do" from my sojourn to the city.

Remember, never say whoa when you're half way into a mudhole!

May day - May day!

2010-05-03T10:05:00.000-07:00

campfires are always a good source for inspiration

Okay, that was the distress call used back in the old days of radio and is probably still in use today - although I have not seen it employed in anything that didn't have Humphrey Bogart as the leading character. It is a crude derivative of the French m'aider and was something that was easily recognized over the cruder radios of the day and when repeated three times meant the caller was in "grave and imminent" danger.

So it is with me as I am staring at a blank screen and trying to think of pithy things to write to prepare me for the upcoming Canada Writes competition. Unfortunately I am pith-less today and all I can come up with is parodies that involve Captain Kirk, Spock and the ever outraged Bones.

I had put out a call to my facebook friends to send me what they felt was the ultimate Canadian song and will be rewriting those all day today. I found it amusing that the folks at CBC gave one of the finalists in the east the Anne Murray classic "Snowbird" to rewrite - obviously the contestant did not heed the advice given a few posts back and missed a great opportunity to wow them with a song about a dead cat.

I have a few good tunes in my arsenal now but don't wish to share them on the off chance that one of the producers sees that I have already covered the tunes and would have an unfair advantage over my fellow writers. On the other hand they might just take pity on me and give me that foot or two headstart that my gym teacher always gave me when I had to race against the other kids.

Well I will churn out a few more songs and then turn my attention to capturing some video from my last field trip.

Just need a good rhyme for Klingon.

Let the sun shine!

2010-05-01T10:02:00.000-07:00

free heat - well almost free - probably a 3 year pay back where I live

I know I don't strike many of my new acquaintances as being much of an environmentalist - especially since over half of my wardrobe is camo - but I do believe in doing what I can to make things a little easier on our planet.

I will have to, at some point, trade in that big diesel burner I drive - but it was a necessity in my past life and I can't afford to part with it quite yet - the book value is about $12 and I doubt that I can buy a hybrid (even a used hybrid) in that price range yet.

So instead I make a difference in other ways. One of our vices is a swimming pool that came with the house we bought. One of the biggest costs of running the pool was getting it up to a temperature that everyone in the family thought was appropriate - somewhere between poaching eggs and boiling lobsters - and although I am more of the luke warm type of guy, I was overruled and we paid the piper in terms of a large gas bill.

A cursory exam of solar systems led me to believe that not only could we cut down on the greenhouse gases, we could also cut down on our expenses and I set about researching systems that would work for us. I shied away from plastic components as I knew they would not weather well in the sun and was worried about the freeze and thaw cycles of Kamloops. I settled on glass vacuum tubes that were relatively inexpensive and could be installed without a lot of fuss or muss.

I tracked down a dealer in Kelowna -Okanagan Home Center - and was quickly a fan of the proprietors Dave and Cheryl Kelly (email: okanaganhomecenter@shaw.ca). Dave and Cheryl are good people to deal with and seem truly concerned about your satisfaction as a customer. They are committed to the solar industry and have tons of experience with pools and spas and had lots of good advice for a neophyte plumber such as myself.

It took me only two days to construct all of the panels (there is of course - some assembly required) and to plumb them into my water system. The system is incredibly efficient. I will post a video of how you can take water at about 10 degrees Celsius and raise it to the boiling point in about 35 minutes. Because ours is a large pool and we are high on the mountain where the nights get cool we need a fair number of solar panels to get the pool up to the temperature we want. Right now I have 5 panels and will probably add another 2 to get us into that slow boil range that is so soothing on old bones. Homes in the valley would probably get away with about 2/3rds of the panels that I need.

Check out the WSE Technologies website - that's where the stuff comes from and then give Dave or Kelly a call and they can get it out here before you can say "Al Gore was right".

Scrabble anyone?

2010-04-30T07:55:00.000-07:00

what was the score?

Scrabble, or as we like to call it "Fight in a box", is a great game for those long winter nights. Actually it's a pretty good game anytime but there are many other outdoor interests that seem to trump the game throughout the summer.

My grandmother was an avid scrabbler and I can remember sitting around the huge kitchen table playing with her and my aunt and uncle. Having about 8 words in my vocabulary at the time I was at a distinct disadvantage but I was content to wait for the letters "P","I" and "G" to appear so that I could try to spell hippopotamus - the more astute will figure out that spelling was not my strong suit.

As the years progressed I improved marginally and now realize that there is no "G" in hippopotamus - unless you are using it as a verb of course. You should also have surmised by now that playing Scrabble with me makes for a long evening.

My best scrabble game ever I recorded in the above photo and I doubt that I will ever have such good fortune ever again. As my father was wont to say "Even a blind pig stumbles on an acorn now and then".

My question to those that have the power to figure out such things - I haven't found it on the net yet - is to figure out what the highest possible score a person could make in a scrabble game. The secondary challenge is to find out what the single largest score on one play could be. For an interesting read check out this Slate article on the highest score in club play.

Prizes will be awarded but the prize list has changed slightly - that thing that was moving around in my pack is no longer moving so shall now be offered as a second prize instead of a first place award. The first place prize will be my Edgar Rice Burroughs biography.

"The smell of formaldehyde" - or "As the twig is bent"

2010-04-29T08:36:00.000-07:00

RW Ritcey and Herb Green

I was sifting through my copious volumes of photos this morning, looking as I do for inspiration for something non-typical to write about when I came across this photo. In it are Dad and his friend Herb Green both of whom have changed remarkably little in the almost 50 years that have intervened since the photo was taken.

What struck me as interesting, apart from how well the two friends have weathered the years, was the similarity of the items in the photo to what I have surrounding the heap of papers that make up my work station. Sitting above my desk is a dissecting microscope fairly close in vintage to the one pictured above and a grizzly skull sits on a shelf off to my left - I'm assuming the skull in the photo is a grizzly simply by the size. And while my collection of jarred specimens is not nearly quite as impressive or orderly as those in the picture - the interest in the collected items is similar.

Dad was one of the first scientists to study the flora and fauna of Wells Gray Park and, as the daycare options were limited in those days, we kids got to tag along. At a very young age we were exposed to things like tagging moose and the subsequent picking of "moose ticks" off of all the participants in the exercise. And as we were living smack dab in the middle of the wilderness at the time, a lot of Dad's projects followed him home and we were raised concurrently with an interesting assortment of study subjects that quickly transformed into family pets.

Apart from our strange collection of critters one of my earliest memories is of the smell of formaldehyde. Formaldehyde was one of the most common preservatives back in the day. Everything from embryonic moose to giant water beetles would find their way into jars of the stuff to be preserved and studied at a later date or sent off to provincial collections down in the far-away Victoria. I was always fascinated by the specimens hovering in those liquids and for some reason never pictured them as being recently demised but instead could always picture them as running or swimming about in their natural world.

To this day, if I get a whiff of formaldehyde my mind goes back to my childhood and one specimen in particular - a yellow bellied marmot. Now the animal itself was not preserved in formaldehyde but it had been stuffed and I don't know if the hide had been cured in formaldehyde or what but it definitely had a different smell to it. The specimen had quickly become a surrogate for a stuffed toy that had been left behind when we had moved to the big city and I would cart that thing everywhere with me. We must have been quite a sight for our neighbours - that strange red-headed kid from the mountains, toting around that dead animal. Much to my dismay though, I had forgot my stuffed marmot outside one evening and the neighbourhood dogs tore it into a million pieces - bits of my marmot were scattered up and down the street. Without my trusty, but admittedly unnerving-to-others companion, I was forced to start making friends with the city kids and I started to make the long transformation into a "townie." But that is a subject of a whole different posting.

I still love to poke and prod about the natural world but now I find the digital camera and video camera are good alternatives to the jars of formaldehyde or stick pins.

"Lippy" the moose -dad's project and my buddy!

Yellow canoe - emerald waters

2010-04-28T07:08:00.000-07:00

The Red Wheelbarrow

by William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens

I had a very good English professor at UBC way back in the dark ages, I think shortly after Shakespeare had packed it in and just before disco, whenever it was it was a long time ago. She had taught me many things but one thing she had told me was that the mark of a good poem, such as The Red Wheelbarrow, was that after reading it - would you ever be able to think of white chickens without the red wheelbarrow?

I think, had she not told me that, it would have been very easy for me to think of a white chicken without that damnable wheelbarrow but now I am forever linking the two.

So, good reader, I present my own experiment. After reading, the Yellow Canoe, and some ten years hence, let me know if you can ever come across the term yellow canoe without thinking about the emerald green waters.

The Yellow Canoe
by Frank Ritcey

so much piled
within
a yellow
canoe
top heavy
with beer
slicing through
emerald green
waters

yellow canoe on Clearwater Lake

Not another contest! Yep another contest.

2010-04-25T21:16:00.000-07:00

So I'm very excited about this latest project I am working on and I thought I would share some of the excitement with you my loyal reader(s) - I never know whether to refer to you in the singular or the plural - but today I am assuming that there will be many following the post because it is a Sunday evening and not much good on television.

Anyways, I have been working on a developing a set of models for predicting population growth of introduced species based on different assumptions. Now I know this has been done half a billion times by half a billion scientists, and that some of those scientists have spent a fair bit of time and effort in developing their models but I figure half a billion and one models can't hurt. So I've started playing around with some formulas and came up with this first equation to show what a population could do, when you have a high reproduction rate, low mortality and no limits to growth. You can think of Cane Toads and Australia to give you the type of scenario that I am presenting.

The exponential growth of an unchecked high reproduction rate and low mortality

As you can see from the graph, that although all of the coefficients in the equations are constant, the resultant population explosion is exponential (that is because we apply these constants to the previous breeding cycle's product - and in effect have an exponential equation). The equation that I use is very basic, where we determine the new additions to the population by: IP*SR*BSR*BR*(1-MRY) and add that to the existing population, after accounting for mortality IP*(1-MRA). There is some other stuff going on in the real equation - to account for things like rounding up to account for fractions of species which doesn't work in the real world - but this is the basic equation to tell you what a population would do if there were nothing else to consider. I will explain that:

IP=Initial population and
SR=sex ratio (what percent of the population is female) and
BSR=breeding success ratio (eg. how many females in the population get bred)

- the rest will become clear after the next model.

Since we all know that a population can not grow exponentially forever, I adjusted the model to allow for a feedback mechanism that accounts for a limit to growth. This limit is what is called the "carrying capacity" of the ecosystem. So my new model employed a dynamic feedback structure to one of the coefficients to say that when the population grew towards the carrying capacity of the ecosystem, the birthrate would fall off as a result of increased stressed to the pregnant females.

Again, although this is a simplistic model, it does demonstrate the idea of a limit to growth and how one can represent it in a relatively simple equation.Over the next week or so I will adjust the equation to account for catastrophic collapses (as when there is a drought) and then try to find a dataset that I can test my equation against.

Now for the competition: The first person to explain what all of the variables in the following equation stand for: IP*SR*BSR*(BR-(pop/UPL*BR))*(1-MRY)+IP*(1-MRA) will win your choice of a "Rounders and Sinners" CD or "the thing that has recently quit moving around in the bottom of my backpack."

For those not interested in hurting their brains on the sharp corners of logic they can kick back and watch an outing with the Kamloops Naturalist Club.