Harassing The Wildlife

"Harassing the Wildlife" was the charge printed on the arrest warrant that had me headed to jail in Cleveland, Georgia. I had always heard that the law was tough in these here parts...and now I know it to be true!

"You got it all wrong, Sheriff! I'm innocent. I swear..." (well occasionally, anyhow, but not around my mother who would wash my mouth out with soap for sure).

"Hear me out!"

There I was. Minding my own business and that of the 60 or so high-bankers that my partner, Orange Larry and I were "crewing" for at the Fall outing at Loud Mine under the auspices of Lost Dutchman's Mining Association and the Gold Prospector's Association of America at their gold camp in Cleveland, Georgia. We had our first "shift" of thirty or so workers up and running six machines quite nicely. The water was flowing perfectly through the sluices. The rate at which we were shoveling material into the hoppers was just about perfect. We were telling stories, giving pointers and laughing and learning together- exactly what these outings are set up to accomplish. So when that first flock of geese flew over the settling pond headed right for us out of the early morning fog, I called their attention to my "team" and put my shovel, yes, my shovel up to my shoulder as though getting ready to shoot a shot gun just as they got close and were sure to fly over......low! I'll never forget that beautiful new bright orange shirt I was wearing so those assigned to the shift could pick me out in a hurry if they needed any help with any matters having to do with running a high-banker. I took careful aim with the handle of my yellow-handled #2 spade and..... Bang. Bang. Bang! Of course we are hunting for gold- not geese and so the flock kept on coming- right at me. It was a thing of beauty. A magical moment....

But as the geese flew over, the lead goose took a shot or two of his own, and with all the high-bank shift watching, he scored a direct hit on the back of my hand. Splat! I had been hit! Bombed. Wounded! Publicly humiliated in front of all my charges. I laughed with them. EEEwwww! And as to minimize matters I removed my hat and checked it for "further damage." It was clean. I had not been "hit" on the head, which I have always heard is a goose's (and a sea gulls') favorite target. I turned to the crowd. I declared, "Never fear" he missed my new hat!" I washed my hand under the waterfall at the end of the nearest power sluice and went back to work! That was fun.

But a few minutes later I again heard the tell tale honking of a second flock of geese on exactly the same flight path. Not again. The chances of getting dive bombed twice by a flock of geese has to be way less that the chances of lightening striking twice, so again I called to my comrades, raised my shovel to my shoulder and readied to "fire." Bang. Bang. Bang! I turned back to crew. I laughed. They laughed. And then pointed out that I had been hit yet again... and this time right smack dab mid chest on my beautiful, new, perfectly clean, bright if not fluorescent, orange shirt. A direct hit.

Now running a high banker is fun in its own right. But running one with a big group of friends while you have an ongoing series of "live entertainments" is even better. We all laughed so hard it actually became difficult to shovel there for a moment in time. And within minutes of the end of the first shift of the day, most of the camp had "heard tell" of the goose hunt that went wrong at the far end of the settling pond.

Some things you do in this life are simply not worth denying. The truth will out! And so I told my second shift what had happened earlier and they too had a good laugh with me as we set about to find some Georgia gold.

I reported for breakfast and morning meetings at 7 AM the following morning with the rest of the crew members. There was a warrant for my arrest waiting for me! Not a real one from a real sheriff, but one from the club's sheriff who, upon the filing of an arrest warrant by another member gets the perpetrator "locked up" in the camp jail until you can raise whatever bail has been set. This is a fund raiser for the local camp so everyone plays along. Three dollars may not sound like a lot of money to raise for bail on a charge of "Harassing The Wildlife", but trying to raise it before first light when no one is yet up and moving about is no easy matter. There for a while it looked like I would have to apply for "work release" so I could run my morning shift, but eventually even our sheriff had a soft heart and coughed up the last two bucks to "spring" me. Good old boy!

Those of you who are followers of our adventures via these posts may well remember that back in 2009 when we spent a season working at Chicken Gold Camp in Chicken, Alaska, I actually ran a contest to try to come up with a "gold" nickname to put on my engraved GPAA name badge. We had hundreds of "entries" but none powerful enough to stick. That is to say until now.

My full name is Gregory Samuel (as in my father's first name) Gundy. That would be G.S. Gundy. So some made the leap to "Goose" for my new nickname and some took it one step further, assigning names to both initials as in Goose Sh-- Gundy, which I suppose is no worse than the suggestion made by my dear wife back in 2009- that would be "dirt bag," which she still calls me, affectionately of course, to this day on occasion.

Now if the story ended there, I suppose the ending could be part comedy, part tragedy. Oh, but it didn't. Because you see at our outings we have a category drawing called "The Redemption Drawing." All persons who are incarcerated for whatever reason and who go to the Loud Jail to pay their debt to the society of gold miners in attendance at the outing are therefore entered in the redemption drawing for a gold nugget. And on this occasion, and as if I had not already had a wonderful time with old and new friends alike- my name was picked out of the gold pan and I won the redemption nugget- which looked very much, for lack of a better description, like a corn flake!

When asked to stand before the crowd gathered for closing ceremonies and explain what I had learned from my time imprisoned, I retold the story and then explained what I believe to be the MORAL OF THE STORY:

To Wit- Sometimes if you are just willing to put up with a little "crap" now and then, so long as you keep laughing, good things will always come of it!

What follows is a slide show of the pictures I had time to take while not running the high banking shifts and/or goose hunting with a shovel. I must have had a few moisture problems keeping my camera on the quad through the rain showers and I had a few pictures just not usable- so apologies if I pointed the camera at you during the outing and you do not appear in the slide show.

A final comment...no wildlife was actually harmed during the filming of this slide show! And furthermore, no wildlife, stream habitat, or negative environmental impact is ever made by responsible recreational miners. We leave our camps cleaner than we find them. We remove hazards, trash and even mercury from any streams we work in. Fish are downright happy to play in the water even right where we may be working to see what we might stir up that they would like to munch on. As our founder George "Buzzard" Massey, always reminds us- If you have it, and you didn't grow it- you ought to thank a miner for it!

Maybe they'll drop that "S" part and I can just be Greg "Goose" Gundy. I'm cool with that!

Last Day In Madikwe...by Marilyn

Our last full day in Madikwe is one of my favorite memories. It was the day we celebrated Julie's birthday. When we first arrived at the lodge I mentioned her birthday and hoped they would be able to make a cake to celebrate the occasion, but it turned out to be way more than expected!

It was an exciting day with very active game drives, tracking animals off road, and a flat tire at last light right before our festive sun-downer in the bush. We were looking forward to dinner being served outdoors under the southern skies and were surprised when the staff entertained us with traditional songs and dance.. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, especially when the chorus started chanting " Happy Birthday, Julie" and escorted her to join them for a celebration dance. A birthday cake was presented and a good time was had by all.


Some of the sights from the day (slide show follows):

Rhino

The call came over the private channel on the radio that a large rhino was spotted in the area and I carefully scanned the fields and bush in the distance not wanting to miss seeing it, thinking we would have only a glimpse at best because of the distance we would need to maintain for safety concerns. The rhino is one of the most dangerous and unpredictable animals to encounter and belongs, along with the lion, leopard, elephant and cape buffalo in the Big Five. Safari hunters prized this exclusive group because of the extreme danger associated with the hunt.

As the jeep turned a bend in the road, I saw it. Right there. Close up. On my side, with only forty feet and a piece of metal separating us. My first impression was how close we were and how huge a rhino is. The ranger assured us that this was a very relaxed animal so we stopped to observe as it grazed.

When we approached, the rhino lifted his head, listened and sniffed the air. Having an excellent sense of hearing and smell compensates for the extremely poor sense of sight. A rhino will charge blindly at thirty miles per hour if startled or aggravated.
This rhino is gray in color, but is called a white rhino - it's name derived from the Dutch word "weit" meaning wide in reference to it's wide, square muzzle with a mouth adapted for grazing, cropping short the grasses on the plains where it lives in small herds of less than a dozen.
Even though there are bushes available, the white rhino can not nibble on them because of the mouth and teeth structure.
There is caked mud on the back which acts as a sun screen and bug repellent.
The white rhino can be five feet high at the shoulder and weigh two tons.
The horn can grow up to five feet long.
We were very still for thirty minutes enjoying this animal that didn't seem to mind our presence.
We were lucky enough to meet this animal close up another day and ended the day having cocktails at sunset watching his herd of eight to ten before the darkness covered them.

We would explore the thicker bush another time in search of the black rhino, a much smaller leaf eater who prefers a solitary life and has a shorter temper and more prone to charge.

Each day was such an adventure! Other sightings that day:

The Lion Kings.....by Marilyn

They say "a picture is worth a thousand words", but it just can't truly convey the intensity of being there. A picture can't describe the deafening roar of lions prowling a mere fifteen feet away, or the quiet padding of a cheetah's feet in the dry grass. A picture can't describe the sickening tearing and crunching sounds made by hungry hyenas devouring the carcass of a downed cape buffalo. It can't describe the alarmed trumpeting of a protective mother elephant warning us to keep more distance from her baby.

A picture can't describe the stench of being downwind of a fully grown cape buffalo, five days dead, rotting in the bush, or the unforgettable odor of a male lion marking it's territory. A picture can't describe the spicy fragrance of fields upon fields of wild sage growing as far as the eye can see in Botswana or the clean fresh scent of clear water flowing slowly through the hundreds of acres of papyrus making channels through the Delta.

All these sights, sounds, scents and emotions are locked forever in my heart and mind; only my pictures can be shared.

We knew these lions were on the hunt. We could hear them a short distance away as we cautiously snaked our way through the thick brush. The moon was near full, but, it was still very dark and our excitement was high....our eyes eagerly following the beam of the spot light as it scanned for any sign of action left and right of the jeep. We were already pumped up from the afternoon game drive, but, we wanted more!

We were looking for "The Boys", the oldest and largest pair of lions in the preserve. They are brothers both wearing the scars of battling with each other on a regular basis to claim the much sought after title of King. They have been inseparable since birth whether hunting or relaxing. They are massive, handsome, and strong - forces to be feared and respected. They were elusive as well on this particular night.

We returned the next afternoon and tracked them to a small tree where they were still resting from the previous nights activities. We knew we would be rewarded for our patience and watched and waited over an hour. It was only a matter of time as the sun set and the air cooled before the first of the two stretched, yawned and walked directly in-front of the jeep to settle down in the road about fifteen feet to our left. Lions are very social and sleep close together, often draping a paw over the face or back of another. When the second lion awoke alone, not knowing where his brother was, he started a series of locating grunts that increasing got louder and louder and were answered with the same intensity. The grunts turned into a roaring duet between the two while we sat in the middle . It was amazing. It made the hair on my neck stiffen and I could almost feel the vibration in the air. It was chilling, awe inspiring and unforgettable.

We were fortunate enough to have a repeat performance two more times then learned from the ranger that he felt the days were numbered for the pair. They are twelve years old and will soon not be able to defend themselves against the younger males that are getting stronger and bolder. It is only a matter time before they will be challenged, beaten and killed, probably by one of their own sons, and the cycle will continue as it has for years.


The four following pictures were snapped as darkness fell, explaining the somewhat eerie look of the pictures...

Birthday Crab(cake)

Yes, there is much more to come from Safari-land. But it is coming slowly as working with sooooo many photos is a daunting challenge for Marilyn, as she is not accustomed to this here blog thing. So meanwhile, I'll put up a mini bit about our two week stay on the Chesapeake, where we got a chance to celebrate Marilyn's birthday. Those of you who know her well know she eats her much beloved chocolate, sweets and treats ONLY on a Sunday. Way more discipline than I have, so more power to her. While there is only one day a week to eat the specialty items, every day is open season for her most favorite of all food groups- CRAB. And the main thing to do around here, maybe not the only thing, but close to it, is to go crabbing. So we got us a long handle net, a couple of hand lines, some chicken necks (bait!) and a bucket to put what we catch in until we get around to cooking it and eating it. And in truth we did catch a lot of crabs- blue crabs. But there is a size limit on crabs here, and we couldn't seem to catch any that "fit" the crab gauge which had to have to check whether the crabs are "legal" or not. In two full days of crabbing, we only caught one that measured up. Disappointing, yes, but still a lot of fun and we met a bunch of nice people hanging out on the dock. What do they say? A bad day crabbing is better than a good day at work? Or something like that!

So as it became evident we were not about to catch our own birthday feast, we decided to drive in to West Point where there is a fresh crab dealer and we met the boat coming in. Blue crabs are sorted by size and sex. Males in one basket, females in another. Then the male crabs, called jimmies, are sorted by size, numbers 1, 2 and 3, with size 1 being the largest. Price wise, #1 crabs were twice as much as #2 crabs, but after looking them over we went with the largest of the lot and selected a half bushel of #1 jimmies to take home for "Crabaganza." For one thing it is easier to clean the larger crabs. And once we finished eating our fill, and picking out the rest of the crabs- of which there were many- we wound up with two and a half pounds of picked out lump crab meat- which sells in the market for way more than we paid for the half bushel. So not only did we have an all you can eat crab feast- we came out ahead (well, sort of).

If you would care to see how to tell the crabs one from the other, CLICK HERE for a really good identification chart.

On our walks around the area we took some interesting photos and same is true when we went driving around the bay area to see what there was to see. Following is a still or two and then a slide show from our stay here. Have to put this place of the "Definitely Would Come Back" list.




Now let's all sing the second verse of the birthday song: "How old are you now, how old are you now....."

Into Africa......Marilyn's post

Where did the dream begin??? Was the seed planted fifty-plus years ago while three little girls played for hours with the collections of plastic jungle animals lovingly given to them by their grandmother? Was it the hours spent watching Merlin Perkins on Animal Kingdom? Or was the x-tra special treat of going to the movies to see Tarzan the catalyst? I don't know. Bett remembers always wanting to go on safari to Africa since childhood. I don't ever remember needing to go on safari but I do have a love of animals and nature and locate every zoo, wildlife park, and national park on my RV travels with Greg.

Julie has traveled the world and rated her safari in Tanzania as " the best of the best" and wanted to share the experience with her sisters. She proposed, planned and made possible the most perfect adventure always to be appreciate and never to be forgotten-a celebration of life and sisterhood and the perfect way to celebrate HER 59th birthday. Truly: one of the best twelve experiences of my life!

I don't especially like flying and the trip was long---fifteen hours non stop from New York to Johannesburg and five smaller planes to get to the remote lodges, then a return trip of over sixteen hours to return to JFK. To be honest, the flights were smooth and I had a really great time with the girls. Did you know the drinks are free on an international flight? By the way, I did break my long standing "no pee on the plane" rule.
The planes did get smaller. Julie actually became the co-pilot. No drinks were served. I went back to my " no pee on the plane " rule!

These are pictures of my hut and the lodge at Madikwe Safari Lodge in South Africa. The three lodges were totally different in design, but were all remote and very intimate with only eight to fifteen private huts or tents. Don't let the term "tent" fool you! Even the tents were huge and luxurious with a king size bed, beautiful African wood furniture, animal skin rugs and bed spreads and en-suite bathroom with flush toilets. Believe it or not, we were really in the middle of the game preserves with nothing else around us but bush and animals!

Each of the huts had a small plunge pool on the deck. Because this area is much drier and many of the watering holes dry up later in the winter, often the elephants wander onto the lodge property and drink from the pools.
Stay tuned for more of the safari....

Misty Mountain

From our Fourth of July headquarters at Misty Mountain in Greenwood, Virginia we took advantage of a break in the stormy weather and drove through part of the Shenandoah Valley to the Blue Ridge Parkway- a twisty, windy scenic road that literally runs along the ridge of the mountain range and looks out over the Shenandoah Valley. We'd been on parts of the parkway in other states but this was our first foray in Virginia. Very scenic. Very pretty, albeit a hot and hazy and foggy day owing to the thunder storms that have plagued us since we arrived. Each time it rains, the coach is nestled in a couple of inches of standing water- no danger of flooding as the water gets carried away by the stream that flows through camp. But wet, none-the-less.

Admittedly I was hesitant about taking pictures and working them up for the blog today. Not that I don't like taking pictures and working with them, but Marilyn returned home from South Africa and Botswana with something on the order of two thousand digital images that we are editing for later use- and let me tell you - that is a whole lot of images to work with. Still, we found some nice material at the ridge life farm museum at the visitors center up on the parkway, so here come a few images from the today's jaunt....

The old farm house had some locals playing ridge music on the porch. Inside we got a first hand look at what it took to survive the ridge in the winter in the "old days."

The barn was made of native logs and hand cut wood shakes- hayloft and all....
And here, Marilyn stands by the "bear proof razorback hog pen" used to hold the hogs over winter or before slaughter after they had been allowed to range in the woods over summer.

And more scenes from the "working" farm museum....including root cellar, spring house, lye filter and more.

Fire In The Hole....

A five hour run found us in Virginia for the the Fourth of July weekend. Good to be pointed in a direction other than sitting still again. All in all it was a smooth trip (hurray for that) but we saw a couple things along the way that made us realize the wide range of experiences different people have on the same road we travel. One guy drove down the road with his passenger's bare feet sticking out the window catching the breeze, even though it was a mighty warm one. Another guy's car broke down and was picked up by a roll back truck, which promptly blew a tire- catching three surrounding vehicles on fire and, although we managed to pass by before the emergency vehicles arrived on the limited access Rt 81 it was still a bit of a touch and go situation. In case you are wondering- all vehicles not involved in the fire one way or another had to continue on in order that the emergency vehicles could reach the scene. In the 94 degree heat along the way today- no one needed that along the highway camp fire at all!

Life On Roatan- Last In The Series

Well I certainly didn't go into any great depth on the Roatan series, but I just wanted to give our current friends a look at our life on the island. I 'd like to wrap up the series with a few of my favorite shots of Marilyn during those years and also just a few of the more scenic images that I am sure will never ever leave me. It was not an easy decision when it came time to leave the island, and those days will always be some of the finest moments in a lifetime of adventure....

after a dive....
spider woman?
her swing chair on the reef deck...
the view from the reef deck...
a star in clear salt water...
traveler palm off the reef deck...
Bailey's island from the reef deck...
gate to the back porch...
pond and waterfall I built beside the first casita behind the main house in a rare time of "fog"

hummer and orchids, seaside
iron coast ...
call bell made from scuba tank...
green lizard on red ginger...
So far, for us, only Alaska can rival the beauty of our Island of Roatan.