Aug. 16, 2003 My Dad’s Last Antelope Hunt (85)

It would have been Ok but Myran was getting married at the end of the week. I didn’t have much faith in my dad’s motor home getting me back in time for the rehearsal dinner.

My dad said it was in good running order so off we went. He picked me up. The air conditioner was making a lot of noise but I was not to worry. About ten miles out Dad forgot his tools to change the belt if he broke one. We stopped and he went in to get some end wrenches and a pair of vice grips. As we were going over Mt. Hood, it was kicking and bucking a lot. I didn’t think we were going to get over the pass. The air conditioner never stopped screaming. I said it might have water in the gas. The air was turned off to give it more power for the hill. Over the hill we went. When we turned the air back on, it stopped screaming. Now it did not work. There was a parts house in Madras. It was time for Gasahol and a new belt for the air conditioner. They didn’t know what size to sell us so no air today, maybe in the next town. It never did get fixed on this trip.

We bought gas in Bend. The sign said, “turn right” but left was the way we wanted to go. It had been a long time since I was last in Bend. I went straight and lost am I. I knew where I wanted to go be dead reckoning but there was no road that way and this freeway was in the way. I finally found an overpass and a lot of side streets. I found the one I wanted but it was under construction and a mess. We left the main part of town and then there was nothing but sagebrush. I turned around and went back to the last gas station. It was $1.98 a gallon. It was about a 100 degrees and I was warm.

There was so much traffic that I had to turn right and then make a left, turn around and then make another left. Did I mention it was very warm? We finally got on the right road and were quickly out of town. There were no cars to speak of and the high desert looks just like it did the last time I was there. Another 150 miles and we will be at Wagontire where we will turn off and go into the desert. One of our stops was to look for Obsidian on Glass Mountain. We found all we wanted. It was all over. You just had to know what you were looking for.

There is Chickahominy, a lake where we used to catch a lot of fish. We were planning on fishing it and spend the night. NOT. The ramp was high and dry and the lake was low and gone. There was no lake just a little pond about the size of my house. They drained the reservoir. We went on to the hunting grounds.

We stopped at Riley and got a drink and gas. It is cheaper out there in the middle of nowhere by about a dime. We went on to Wagontire to eat dinner. They were watching a TV with some movie where the aliens took over the teachers’ minds and bodies. They were trying to consume the kids’ minds. They killed the teachers who had their bodies consumed and that killed the aliens. Then there was no trace of the aliens or the teachers. The kids went back to normal. Everything went on like nothing had happened. You have to see it to believe some one could watch it. My chile was good.

The motor home was missing a lot less as we headed up the hill off the main road out into the desert. The dust is here to stay. The road to where we were going to stay was good. Now the question is where to stay? We took a side road and went up a little bank and into the sage. There were small juniper trees about 20 feet tall. It was off the road and out of the way and out of the dust from other cars.

There were some guys out driving around shooting rabbits in the dark. They put there light on us, determined we were too big to be rabbits, and went on their way.

We got up before it was light and got ready to go hunting. As we were driving along, I saw an Antelope in the road. I told my dad and he got out to shoot it. I drove off. You have to be 50 feet from the vehicle. Just as he got good aim on it, the sun came over the hill and the antelope stood in front of it. Just a little hard to see. So off we went to look for another one.

I am still thinking in the back of my mind that Myran will be getting married in a week. We are on a dusty road and there are a few hunters around.

We drive down this lakebed. The dust is thick. At the end there are some Antelope and a BUCK standing there. My dad took aim and shot the Antelope. It flared up on it back feet and then fell over. It made a lot of dust so we drove over to it. It got up and my dad shot at it but it got away. We saw it running about a mile away. I tried to track it. We walked about thee miles in the direction it went. We never saw it again. My dad was getting tired so we made a lot of stops for him to rest.

As we were driving along there were these three lakebeds. My dad put up a target and popped off a round. It was off about a foot so he moved his scope and then it was only off about a few inches. The last time he shot it was on. That was when I found out he only had eight rounds left. This could be a problem.

We drove back to camp. I had left my wallet in the attic of my tent and thought if some one raided our camp they might find it. Driving without a license is not a problem. There was hardly anyone out there in that dust and heat. Most of the lakebeds are dry and the antelope are looking for water and have to wade out in the mud to get a drink. I walked to several and they were dry. We saw antelope running a lot of times, too far to shout. Around the mountain we go to look for them and the road is a little rough. The van is low and it hits on about every rock in the road. Banging here and there I am thinking the oil pan it down there. It would be a long walk out. About five miles of this at a walk speed and we were off this road. I was happy you could see the road we wanted but it went back and forth a lot.

Back on the main road and over to a lake bed that had a big herd on it the day before. There were three out there and they were just standing around. I told my dad which ones were bucks and he started to crawl toward them. He only had a two-power scope on his 300 H & H Weatherby. When he got up as close as he could, he could not tell which ones were bucks and came walking back.

We went back to the truck and drove to the other end of the lake and parked. We were walking along and one came over the edge and looked at us. I walked back and forth to keep its curiosity up and my dad found a sagebrush big enough to get a rest on. He shot and the antelope just stood there; he shot again and it went down. It was moving a lot trying to get up so I said, “shoot it again!” He shot three more times and finally hit it. It was down for the count. We walked up to it and its whole side was gone. There is not much meat on them and they are not very heavy. We took pictures and then just picked it up and put it in the van. A little problem happens; the hole gets down and dumps blood all over the van. What a mess. We took it out and scraped the blood out as best we could then turned the buck over and put it back in. The dust is cleaner in camp. If you don’t like being dusty you don’t want to be here.

Back at camp we cleaned it, skinned it, put a sheet over it to keep the flies from blowing it, and put water on it to keep it cool. Yes, it is still hot.

The next day we broke camp and headed out. The Van is doing great after hammering it for about five miles at ten miles an hour the day before. I am happy that we got my dad an antelope and I will be able to get to Myran’s wedding on time without hurrying.

We pulled onto the black top and it sounded like a bolt came off the flywheel. It was making a very bad noise. We went for a mile then it banged a few times and then another mile and it banged again. We stopped and I crawled under it. It looked like some one was hammering on the dustpan that covered the flywheel from the inside out. We made it to Wagontire and filled up. It was cheaper there than in town. The hammering kept getting less so we decided to make a run for it. As we went along, it kept getting less until it stopped. The gasohol must have helped the motor; it was running great. The air broke the belt so we are still warm.

We got home and divided the antelope. It was all shot up so there was a lot of hamburger.

I can say I was worried a lot, but it turned out to be a good trip.

My dad took a hose to the van and cleaned it out and sold it for $800.. All I can say is “there is a live one out there. You just have to find him.” I would not have given $200 for it. I am happy he got that much for it.

It was a great hunt with my dad and I would do it again.

Aug. 7, 2003 – Focus on the Family
National Bike Ride

Well, well, well! How did I get talked into this ride? I was at church for a memorial service. As usual, I was giving every one a bad time about going for a bike ride. They think I am a real strong rider and will make then look really bad so they shy away and make up excuses for not riding with me. I eat this up, but someone does burn me once in a while. Yes, I deserve it. The pastor put me down. I was blowing and making excuses and he was smiling and still going.

Marie Wachlin was at the church and I was giving her a hard time. She took me up on riding that day and then she asked me to go on the Focus on the Family bike ride. I had never done Portland to Seattle. The other three times it was Seattle to Portland.

Five years ago I started riding sponsored rides and it was one of my first rides with my kids. It took two days. Matt called it an “everlasting weekend.” We went 140 miles the first day. I was so spent. Ilene drove us home and we spent the night. I was zonked out. The next day Ilene drove us back to the same spot and off we went.

Yes, back to the training. It went well and I could see a lot of improvement in Marie’s riding. We went out one day and it was near 100 degrees. We went slow but Marie did good. We went only 20 miles that day. There are not a lot of riders out when it is that warm.

Marie and I did the bike ride for Focus on the Family. Her husband, Norm, drove the four of us to the orientation meeting. We found that the Focus people really put a lot of time into making it a good trip for us.

Marie and I conned Norm and Ilene into volunteering their time while Marie and I rode. They were supposed to give us a rub down every night (Right!). The volunteers did wash our jerseys, spandex shorts, and socks every night so we all looked (and smelled) the same. They kept track of our luggage every day, made lunch for us, and kept our water bottles filled.

Well, back to the meeting.

The meeting went well and we met Barbara and Robert Henderson there. They needed a ride back from Seattle with someone who had room enough for their tandem. They also needed a place to park their van. The bike fit into our van and their van fit nicely in our driveway. Myran came home that night and asked what the van was doing in our driveway. I am surprised he even noticed one more car in our driveway. When it gets full the lawn is next and when the family gets together it is full too. I always say the grass will come back.

The Journey was the object of the ride. We are the lucky ones that can and do the rides. It takes time to get in shape so you can be with great people who ride. I was going to ride with Marie but it never did work out all that well.

The first thing I did was pump up my tires. The pump ate the stem so the Support person put a new tube in my back tire. No, I didn’t do well that morning. I got the front one too.

I started out riding with Marie but as we started into Portland, I stayed back with Tom. We brought up the rear as Marie and Laura road ahead. Marge, Tom and I waited for her to rest. As we started down the hill, Marie and Laura were walking up the other side. I thought, “This is not good.” Marge was all out so I knew Tom would find out what they were doing. I kept up with Marge and away we went looking for green arrows. Well, not me. I was in the back. She missed one some place but since I live here, not a problem. Ha. I knew where we should be but didn’t know the route. The map Ilene gave me, my “support” person, would help. Not! I could not see so out came the glasses. The names did not match at all. Then Marge says, “This map is for tomorrow.” This is going to be one of those days.

We found the group by a short cut. I thought it was a short cut but Marge didn’t think so.

The afternoon was going good and I thought I would walk over the Longview Bridge. They were working on it and every truck in Oregon and Washington thought it was time to use the bridge. I don’t even want to know what they would have been thinking if we road 6 miles an hour up that bridge. Good fortune was with us at the top. Someone stopped at the top and held the traffic back. We got on our bikes and coasted down the other side. The rest of the day was talk and ride.

That night Tom talked about Milestones in his life and that we should have milestones to work toward. The two most important used words used in prayer “But God” was talked about.

Day two ride went well. Marie was to learn that what you say will come back to haunt you. At our lunch stop, she came out of the little Girls room and made the statement that the seat in there was a lot better then the one on her bike. Two people, who did not ride, came up with this idea of getting her a toilet seat for her bike. I am not saying names but her husband and my wife drank coffee together a lot. One of these people and I (the other one had to do laundry) went out and bought a kid’s padded toilet seat for her. We gave it to her at dinner. If you pull a prank and can’t admit to it, it is too mean. I like people that tell you what they are thinking then you don’t have to guess. One other thing happened today. My bike turned over 12,000 miles and it was time for CHOCOLATE!

Day three and my milestone was coming. It started out so good and I was riding with Marge letting her lead; then she would say, “You lead but don’t kill me. Well we all know what kind of rider I am. I was looking at this tree, that big body of water and double garage doors that sag. Yes, I missed the green arrow, but Marge and I made great time going down this great hill. At the bottom I flagged down a Police officer and he told us how to get back on track - 17 blocks. There was no more downhill (darn) and my tire went flat. I am on my bike lost and it is a great day for riding. NO big problem. Marge calls Support and says we are lost but are going the right way and will be on track shortly. The Support drives up behind us and my milestone comes to reality. We put my bike on the sag van L so we can catch up with the group. We are 15 miles back!


There was so much that I did not put down on this trip. Marie says I should put more senses in my writing and she is right. The smell on the third day made me hunger for seafood.

The rest of the ride went well. We gathered at a gas station so we could all ride in together. Tradition is that someone from the group rides in first leading the rest. This year it was me. What a great honor to be elected to be the one to ride in first. I felt so proud leading such a great group of people who were riding for such a great cause.

I drove back to Portland in our Van with plans of riding the Bridge Pedal with Barbara and Robert. Oh yea, my kids just love to do it too. We all met down in Portland, bought our tickets and over the bridges we went. There is something about standing on top of a Freeway bridge six lanes wide and looking over the town. There were 17,000 riders, every kind of bike, and even little kids, 16 and 25 miles long. The weather was great for the ride.

I just feel so happy that I can ride my bike. When you ride, you can stop and smell the roses. The good part about being retired is you don’t have to be back at any particular time. I like doing things now because there might not be next year. I am a very fortunate person and like to have fun with all I meet. I believe God looks after me in all the things I do.

Memories of the ride
By Byran