Banking in Steamboat

There we were, mid December, in our bank on main street (Lincoln Ave.) in Steamboat Springs, the town closest to where we live in northwest Colorado. Erik and I had our backs to the door when the banker we were working with looked up, became suddenly wide-eyed and developed a slight jaw drop.

Turning around, we saw an unassuming couple walking into the bank holding a leash to which was attached…. a reindeer. Green leash, red halter, magnificent antlers, this enormous ungulate (mammal with hooves) was dressed for duty, Christmas Eve only 10 days away. He calmly looked around and nodded at his audience, then turned around to face the door. He seemed to say to his owners, apparently his Mom and Dad, “make the deposit already and get me out of here…or I may be making a deposit of my own!”

Moments later he was outside again, happier with thirty-some degrees and a sidewalk to walk on than with the cramped quarters and seventy degrees of the bank.

A few Reindeer Facts

The reindeer (Rangifer tarandus), also known as the caribou in North America, is a deer from the Arctic and Subarctic.

Reindeer vary considerably in color and size. Both sexes grow antlers, though they are typically larger in males.

Reindeer are native to Northern climates, both North America and

Northern Europe and their usual habitat is the tundra

(A treeless area between the icecap and the tree line of Arctic regions).

The diet of Reindeer consists of grass, moss and lichen.

Like the mule deer that live in more temperate parts of North America, the male caribou is referred to as a buck, the female as a doe
and the baby as a fawn
.

The average size of a litter is one or two
and the collective name for a group of Reindeer is a herd. The sound they make is called a bellow and fully grown the males reach 46 inches
and can weigh up to 300 pounds

Again, like most other deer species, the females usually stay in herds, males joining only for the autumn rut. Antlers are shed at the end of winter and grow back in spring.

The broad hooves of caribou function like snowshoes!

Okay everyone, wave to our friend on Christmas Eve as he flies through the air and travels around the world.

We are thankful for just another day in the life in Steamboat,

Christmas Blessings to all,

DocDawn and Erik

www.docdawn.com

 

The Best Christmas Present

The best Christmas Present that I can remember was not a present I received, but one that my father received when he was 8 years old.

My father’s family farmed cotton in a small town north of Baton Rouge, LA. The fall of 1948 had been a very difficult cotton harvest. What they had not lost to a drought was taken by the infamous Boll Weevil. As with most small farmers my grandfather had borrowed money to purchase cotton seed and supplies and now had no way to pay back the bank or the company store.

My father tells me that my grandfather sat them down (family of 6) and explained there would be no Christmas stockings and certainly not a present. Although my father knew it had been a difficult fall he had hoped for some small token and celebration. After all; he was just 8 years old.

Christmas Eve arrived and my grandparents treated it like any other day. However, at dark my father noticed a box on their planked and splintered front porch. My Dad told the story every year with such happiness. He explains that the box looked larger than any box he had ever seen. The box was filled with fruit, nuts, a salted ham and 3 small wooden toys. The box had been left by the Salvation Army. They had been able to provide similar boxes to several families in the small community.

As far back as I can remember my Christmas stocking has been filled with fruit and nuts in holding on to a tradition that always brought tears to my father’s eyes. My father was an annual donor to the Salvation Army and I have followed in his footsteps. My father died last year, but his tradition still lives in my home today.

Hello Family & Friends!

How are you?

Free Marketing For You and Your Company!

Would you like a free marketing opportunity at the SHOT Show January 17 to 20^th, in Las Vegas?

The Shooting, Hunting, Outdoor Trade Show (SHOT Show) is the largest and most comprehensive trade show for all professionals involved with the shooting sports, hunting and law enforcement industries.   There are over 2,200 exhibits and more than 40,000 attendees at this annual event.

One of the many benefits of your membership in the WOMA is to have your brochures and/or flyers at the WOMA booth, this year located at L344 near the Press Room. Maximize the value of your WOMA membership by letting us know if you want WOMA to be part of your marketing strategy! And remember this is free!

Let us know as soon as possible if you would like to have a threefold brochure or flyer at the WOMA booth by contacting Marsha@TheWOMA.com or Deb@TheWOMA.com.

Countdown to 2012 SHOT Show

I can’t believe it’s already December 19th — just 4 short weeks away from SHOT Show’s Media Day at the Range, which is Monday, January 16th! Read more

Women in Wildlife Breakfast

Ducks Unlimited proudly sponsored the Women in Wildlife breakfast this past fall for the Southeastern Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies annual meeting. There were around 40 women in attendance, including professionals from U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, USDA APHIS Wildlife Services, USGS, and multiple state agency representatives.

Also in attendance were several university graduate students currently studying in the natural resources field, and members of non-profit conservation organizations. I represented Ducks Unlimited at the breakfast, and we all had a great time celebrating the accomplishments of women in wildlife and reminiscing about some of the hurdles we’ve faced.

Bid on a Hunt, Win a Family!

The strangest thing happened while I was at the NRA auction last May; I bid on a hunt and won a whole new family!  I’d never been to one of the big NRA convention dinners/auctions before, but my gal pal Marsha Petrie Sue, President of the Women’s Outdoor Media Association (the WOMA) and very active in the NRA, convinced me to buy an event ticket. I met up with other WOMA members there, like Anne Draper from Bear Mountain Ranch and Chris Quam of Hi Viz Shooting Systems. We had a ton of fun along with dinner, drinks and the auction.

The auction item I won was a pheasant hunt in north Texas offered by the Frantz family, scheduled for early December. As soon as I paid for the item I called my husband, who was left back in Tucson working away and taking care of our four legged children. The news made him a very happy guy, as he hadn’t had the opportunity to bird hunt in many years. In June, I contacted our hunting hostess, Stephanie Frantz.  Between her cheerful updates plus contact by her husband, Trey, we spent the summer and fall touching base on a variety of hunt details. Just for starters, the Frantz’s put us up at our own private B&B, the “Bella Grace”, near their ranch outside of Dalhart, TX.  Since the hunt was for four people for the weekend, we invited along the head instructor of our Babes with Bullets camps, Kay Miculek and her daughter, Lena, who both happen to be WOMA members as well.

Here’s where I admit that out of the group I was definitely the novice bird hunter; actually, novice hunter period. It was a case of “practice what you preach” since I’m constantly telling women to try something outside their comfort zone.  My learning curve to becoming a bird hunter couldn’t have been made any easier since Trey had everything organized in the field. He recruited his family members and friends to come along on the opening pheasant weekend hunt and be “walkers” and “blockers.”

FYI – I opted to be a “walker” when I found out that group gets to talk! Trey delivered a safety briefing at the front of the hunt, and I’m happy to report that everyone, including Trey’s 9 year old son Max and 8 year old nephew Zane, did a great job on maintaining a safe shooting line. (Here’s where I put a big THANK YOU too for Trey’s brother-in-law, Mike, who helped out with the hunt and even loaned me his shotgun when mine quit running.)

To insure that it would be a good hunt, the Frantz’s went one step further and added extra “raised” pheasants to the few wild pheasant that are still around in Texas. If you haven’t been in a coma for the last year you probably know that Texas has suffered through a devastating drought. For any game bird, the lack of water equals lack of crops and lack of crops equals lack of bird habitat.  Where this area of Texas once supported a thriving game bird population, now there are few wild birds and they are very hard to find! Wanting to go that extra step for our NRA hunt, Trey planted dozens of birds in the ½ section we were hunting. If you are thinking this made hunting easy, then you aren’t familiar with how well pheasants blend right into an abandoned cornfield.  I didn’t realize that pheasants were runners instead of flyers, especially pen raised birds. Now I know why it’s so important to have a good pointer; another bird hunting lesson learned.

We walked and walked, and it wasn’t long before I figured out the best bet was to stick near Daisy, the Frantz’s young yellow Labrador Retriever, as she was flushing up birds regularly.  On the first day we had close to a 30 mph wind and as the walkers and/or Daisy would flush the bird, it took a fast shotgun to grab the bird before it sailed off into the distance. By the end of the first day of hunting, I had a whole new appreciation for how much work it can be to bird hunt, along with that exhilaration of the bird coming up and making a good shot. I also came to appreciate John Frantz, Trey’s Dad, who trailed behind our group at a distance in his SUV. His job was to help out with transporting hunters from one end of a field down to another end.  What a blessing John turned out to be, especially after a long cold walk, where I found my muscles very unwilling to work anymore. That’s when I decided that John and his SUV were my new best hunting aids!

I also had an appreciation for Stephanie and her family providing us with great dinners on Friday and again on Saturday evening.  A blessing was said before each meal, a big “AMEN” uttered by all present, and then the conversation and fun flowed throughout the Frantz house. The evening activities even included making of S’Mores in the Frantz fireplace, which we taped, as I’m trying to convince Hershey’s Chocolate to become a sponsor of our women’s shooting camps. After all, you never know till you ask – right?

On Sunday, the last morning of the hunt, the temperatures were pretty cold but we tried one last pass at the fields; noting that the hawks had been fairly active over the night in finding several of the pheasants as dinner. We only shot a few more birds and then decided it was time to call it a morning. While the other hunters went off to try their luck at prairie dogs, I stayed behind and did a little handgun training with Stephanie and Max at the small steel handgun range that Trey had setup at the back of the ranch. Seems the Frantz family, at least Trey and Max so far, have been getting involved in some action pistol shooting, like IDPA, which stands for International Defensive Pistol Association. Small world since the IDPA Executive Director, Joyce Wilson, just became a WOMA member last month!

I was happy to see that Stephanie was already comfortable in safely handling my M&P .9mm Pro Series semi-auto. She had a good grip, good stance and good sight picture. I was equally impressed on how well Max handled the .9mm semi-auto, though I’m pretty sure he’s been practicing quite a bit considering how much reloading Trey tells me he’s been doing. At nine years old Max already has the makings of a serious competitor, and I suspect we’ll be seeing both Trey and Max at a variety of action shooting programs in the future.  Plus, I am so excited that Stephanie is registering to attend a Babes with Bullets camp this spring!

If you are wondering what the moral of the story is, I’m not sure there is one. I recognize that the Frantz family offering the hunt to the NRA and that my being at the NRA event to win the hunt, along with having the opportunity to spend time in the field with my husband, were a series of God’s blessings. Like I said in the beginning, I bid on a hunt and I won a family, it doesn’t get any better than that.

 

Photo Credit: Gary Ferns

Coldwater Trout Tactics

I was doing a little scouting throughout a three day period of rain that we had here at the beginning of December. The first day of this rainy spell brought with it no changes in weather other than that of precipitation falling from the sky, as air and water temperatures remained unchanged. During the second and the third days of the rain, however, things were different. The winds changed from the south and increased out of the north, the tides began to fall, and air and water temperatures suddenly dropped to levels that one would generally expect for a wintertime month. I fished briefly during each of these three days, but the constant changes made for lousy success.

Up until this particular drop in temperature, our fishing endeavors so far this year have been supported by some pretty mild spring-like weather. In fact, I previously had been catching most all of my trout above sandy shallows, as the waters covering these sandy areas had remained warm enough to keep the trout there. But now that we’ve had more than a few days of constant daytime high temperatures in the 50′s and 60′s, and nighttime low temperatures in the 30′s and 40′s, I’ll now be changing from that of my old fall strategies to that my new wintertime strategies. Instead of searching for the trout bite solely above sandy bottoms, I’ll now be looking for trout also above mud and grass. And instead of anticipating lots of action along the bayside shorelines, I’ll instead now begin expanding my explorations to include the secluded back areas of marsh where the fish shall begin to dwell during the earlier part of the winter months as the air and water temperatures continue to remain cooler.

Today marked the third day following the passage of the latest cold front, and the sky above our area was in the process of clearing from being overcast to that of becoming partly cloudy. Three of the past four days had consisted of rain and today’s forecast was calling for temperatures to be in the high 40′s to low 50′s, and there currently was very little wind blowing. My first stop on this morning’s outing put me upon a concealed shoreline that’s somewhat removed from the openness of San Antonio Bay. This stretch of shoreline is a particular favorite of mine at the beginning of winter each year simply due to the fact that it offers a gradual change in bay bottom formats which is especially good for those of us who have been wading comfortable and hard-packed sand for the past six months. I anchored and moments later made my way over the side of the boat and into the water in a place where the depth was in excess of four feet and where the bottom was made-up of hard sand covered with grass. Colder temperatures and north winds had helped to make the water gin clear, and I could often see my feet beneath me. At the point in which I had entered the water, I was still some 60-70 yards (or more) off the bank of the shoreline which is entirely lined with tall marsh grass.

My first casts of the morning consisted of offerings of the nearly five-inch long Killer Flats Minnow XL (manufactured by Texas Tackle Factory) in the Morning Glory and Texas Roach colors. Doing so is a tactic of mine that I like to practice whenever the water turns cold and once the larger natural bait fish, mainly mullet, have disappeared from the bay systems for the winter. Anyhow, I continued making my way down the shoreline at the same depth that I had started in earlier, but had not had more than an occasional “bump” along the bottom for more than thirty minutes now, so I slowly began making way into shallower water. As I reached thigh-deep water, there was a noticeable transition to mud beneath my wading boots. From where I stood I was now within casting distance of the grass-lined bank, so I planted my feet and began casting in a rotational pattern from the shallow water against the grass all the way out to the deeper water from which I had come earlier. I was still throwing the large plastic minnow bait, and was looking for any signs of trout willing to compromise their concealment due to hunger pains. It was another thirty minutes before I had made my way another 50 yards down the shoreline at the same depth.

The sun was shining a little bit now as I casted my plastic lure into the shallows with the mud-laden bottom. Suddenly, my retrieve was met with fierce resistance, and the battle was on. My bait had found its way into the mouth of a beautiful 7-pounder and I was experiencing the thrill of the day. I stayed in that general area for the remainder of the morning, never relocating my position more than 5-10 steps at a time, and managed what could possibly be one of my heaviest stringers over the past several years (all of which were released, of course). Fishing has been remarkable for me since the recent turn in the weather, and I look for the months ahead to be no different. Dark-colored plastics should continue to pay off, and I won’t shy away from keying in on soft, warm mud with some dark grass mix as well. P.S. — Don’t forget that this time of the year is when it’s so very important to use a slow retrieve if you’re working soft plastics or slow-sinking plugs.

With the second-half of this year’s waterfowl season almost completely booked-up, Bay Flats Lodge is already booking spring fishing trips. This is a great time to pick your favorite fishing dates, so give us a call whenever you’re ready. All of us here at Bay Flats Lodge wish you nothing but happiness and prosperity this Holiday Season. Our sincerest thanks go out to all of our customers, and we are looking forward to continuing our relationships in the coming year. Remember to practice CPR, “Catch, Photo, and Release”, whenever possible on trophy Trout and Reds.

Captain Chris Martin

Kim Rhode Named USA Shooting’s 2011 Female Athlete of the Year

The WOMA would like to congratulate Kim Rhode (El Monte, Calif.) for being named USA Shooting’s 2011 Female Athlete of the Year. She has risen above the rest and has handfuls of hardware as a result of her impressive performance on the international and national scene in 2011.

Rhode, a Women’s Skeet athlete, is the reigning Female Athlete of the Year and has held the prestigious title for the past four years. “I’m honored to be selected as Female Athlete of the Year. I’m training hard and looking forward to the 2012 Olympic Games,” said an elated Rhode. After a fifth place finish at the ISSF World Cup Chile, Rhode won a gold medal in Sydney, securing her U.S. Olympic Team nomination (pending approval by the USOC). Rhode’s won another medal at the ISSF World Cup in Beijing-a silver medal from the range where she won her 2008 Olympic silver medal.

Back stateside, Rhode etched her name yet again in the Sizemore trophy with another National Championship title. She concluded the year with a bronze medal at the ISSF World Clay Target Championships in Belgrade, Serbia, and her first ISSF World Cup Final gold medal in Al Ain, United Arab Emirates. “This is an exciting time for me,” said Rhode. “I’m honored to receive this Athlete of the Year award and appreciate the support of my great sponsors who share in this honor with me.” Rhode is well on her way to achieving her next goal of accomplishing five individual Olympic medals in five consecutive Olympic Games. If she accomplishes that feat, she will add her name to the history books yet again.

Road To Russia…Via a Tiny, Little Town in Northern Italy!

Today marks the third week I’ve been in Europe for the start of the 2011/2012 Biathlon Season. For those of you who don’t know, biathlon is a combination of cross country skiing and rifle marksmanship. Biathlon is a sport that pits skier against skier, biathlete against extreme weather, and shooter against the challenges of mental and physical exhaustion. It’s exciting, an obscure sport, but exciting none the less!

Week 1: Ostersund, Sweden

My first week in Europe found me traveling from my wintery home in southern Colorado, to an unseasonably warm, almost tropical Sweden. Normally this time of year winter is not hard to find in Scandinavia, but winter conditions were lacking in almost all of Scandinavia and central Europe. The only thing that was consistent from my previous travels here was the sun, which sits very low on the horizon and makes it look like dusk for much of the day. My twin sister traveled with me, as we both compete for the U.S. Biathlon Team together. When we left Colorado, we packed for what would be a 5 month journey across Scandinavia and Europe for our competition season.

When we arrived to the biathlon venue, we found a strip of snow snaking it’s way along the 4 kilometer course bordered in a sea of green grass and lush green forests. Nothing looked more out of place than the ski trail that we’d be training on for the next week. The snow that made up our little winter wonderland was made the previous year and stored in huge piles in the forest under a blanket of sawdust and tarps. Biathlon is the most popular winter sport in much of Europe bringing in millions of dollars and thousands of spectators. The biathlon venues cannot afford to take a chance with the weather, so snow is stored up to make sure the event can still be hosted without delay or cancellation.

At the end of the first week, we had our first big test. A European Cup, or “B” World cup race. A warm up and qualification for the World Cup that would start the next week. The morning of the race, we awoke to snow dumping out of the sky. Winter had arrived just in time. While it was great to see the fluffy white stuff, the once hard and fast ski tracks were now an ocean of deep powder, and the wind was whipping furiously. With the excitement of the first race, I struggled on my first two loops through the deep snow. The wind was relentless when I came into the range, and my confidence wavered.  I floundered a bit on the shooting range, where I’m normally consistent and accurate. With a disappointing finish, I missed the cut for the World cup, but would have a change within a week in Italy to make it back up there. My twin sister, Lanny, found a steady rhythm on her skis and shot well in the wind to secure a spot on the World Cup. I promised her when I left I’d be up racing again with her soon.

Week 2: Obertilliach, Austria

We left Ostersund, Sweden at 4:30 the morning after the race. We drove 12 hours from Ostersund to the southern tip of Sweden to the port town of Goteburg.  We then took an over night ferry to Kiel, Germany where we would once again spend 12 hours driving through all of Germany and then on to a small town in the mountains of Austria. I’ve driven much of Germany before, but to see the full length of it from a car window in one day was pretty neat, even though most cars are traveling close to 90 miles an hour on the autobahn! We arrived in Obertilliach, Austria late that night. We had seen little to no natural snow since leaving Sweden. We would once again be training on a strip of man-made snow. This week was an off week from racing and consisted entirely of training. The week was training as usual, with the only exception being the enormously adventurous journey to dinner every night.

In certain parts of Europe, the rich tradition of St. Nicholas takes center stage this time of year, as St. Nicholas Day falls on the 6^th of December. In the southern parts of Bavarian Germany and the german speaking Tirollean parts of Austria and Italy, the tradition of St. Nicholas also involves that of his helper, the Krampus. While St. Nicholas would reward kids who had been good, the Krampus would ultimately scare the bad kids in hopes that they would practice habits of being good. The Krampus resembles something of a devil mixed with a hairy goat. Their masks are extravagant and extremely expensive. The Krampus, which are typically made up of the younger male population of these small towns, dress up in their frightening attire, and wielding small whips, walk the streets at night in search of any unsuspecting children, or American biathletes on their way to dinner.

We’d leave the safety of our apartment with our senses heightened, and weave our way through the old houses and barns on our way to the restaurant. Every once in a while we’d here the sound of bells, followed by a scream. Even though the Krampus had the upper hand, they were required to wear a gigantic bell on their back. That way, any victims would at least be warned to their presence. We arrived in Austria on the 29^th, which meant we had a week until the big day…St. Nicholas. While I’m not sure the length of time before St. Nicholas these Krampus start terrorizing the streets, I did know that we had at least a week to try and avoid them. The first night didn’t fair so well when a Krampus, who had to be about 12 judging by his size, took on the tallest and biggest guy on our team. My teammates large frame towered over the little Krampus, but it didn’t stop the little devil from whipping my teammates legs repeatedly until he decided to run off. It was actually quite comical to see, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of the whipping. Later on that week, another male teammate was cornered,  He did his best linebacker maneuvers to get around them, but received one or two good hits from the Krampus.

The last night we were there was the eve of St. Nicholas. This was the night when St. Nicholas, accompanied by the Krampus, would go from house to house where there were children and give them candies and treats. We did put on a pretty good sprint to make it to the restaurant that night with the Krampus on our tail. I’d have to say that I’ve never had that much excitement heading to dinner before.

Week 3: Ridnaun, Italy

On the 6^th we traveled the two hours from Obertilliach, Austria to Ridnaun, Italy. The drive took us through the rugged Dolomite mountains. We awoke that morning to freezing temperatures and every ski slope on the drive was a flurry of blowing white with all the snow guns making snow. Most ski areas remained closed with no natural snow, but with the colder temperatures, the resorts were determined to open soon for their eager customers. Ridnaun, Italy is a small town at the end of a valley, high up in the mountains. For anyone who’s been there, it remains their favorite place to travel to in Europe. The food is outstanding the people are incredibly friendly. Everyone in this valley speaks German, although most of the town signs are written both in German and in Italian. Some of the older folks in town still feel more ties to Germany than to Italy.

We arrived to a wonderful meal and a warning that winter was on its way. We went to bed that night with clear skies and a bit of skepticism.  In the morning, everything was white and snow was dumping from the sky. Winter had finally arrived, only a month after we’d been hoping for it. The ski tracks were soft and the shooting points uneven, however, there was an air of giddiness among the biathletes. It was like that feeling of seeing a bunch of kids playing around in the snow for the first time. Most of us are long past our childhood age, but are obvious fans of winter because of our chosen profession.

I have been doing biathlon for over 12 years now, which means I’ve been living out of my suitcase for the last decade. I’ve been zig-zagging across the globe in pursuit of what most other biathletes are after: the perfect race. Biathlon is a very unpredictable sport, and the winner of the race one day can end up at the back of a 100 person field the next day. There are variabilities like wind, snow and freezing temperatures coupled with physical ability, mental prowess and the uncertainty of dueling competition. We have close to 35 races in a year and it’s likely you won’t be “on” for all of them.

One thing all biathletes pursue is that race where everything comes together; your physical ability on the skis and your mental strength in the shooting range. The excitement comes as you ski as hard as you can for several miles and then, with your heart rate at over 180 beats per minutes, shoot at a target the size of a silver dollar from half a football field away. That’s what makes biathlon so exciting, and that’s why it has captivated huge crowds of people in European countries. Some of the World Cups will draw more people than the Super bowl will in the United States. Kind of hard to believe that people would get that excited about watching athletes ski around in spandex and toting guns, but it truly is exciting and I’d encourage you to check out a race. You can watch the races live at http://eurovision.digotel.com/ibu/index.html.

This weekend the racing will kick off again here in Italy. With winter now here to stay, it’ll make for one exciting, and very unpredictable event.

-Tracy & Lanny Barnes

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