Summer Adventure #2: Shiprock.

First afternoon in a little bit of a breeze.

My old friend, the Black Giant.

Just down the road in a spectacular area of rock formations.

South dike at dawn early in the week.

I was pretty close to the Dot all week.  Glad to be able to visit.

Mid-day view into the sun toward Table Mesa.

Celebrating Navajo tires.  There are thousands of tires scattered about the desert around Shiprock.

Hunting a vantage point with the land cruiser.

West ledge, my home for the weekend.

The "Horns of Power" moment along the West Dike from up the original 1939 ascent line.

I lusted mightily after this sign.  

South Dike in some VERY soft light on the last morning.  Utah fires were setting the illumination.

Camp Perry and the rifle team trip was an exciting adventure.  I had a week home and then flew to Albuquerque and met a friend of mine who had driven my camera over for five days at Shiprock, New Mexico.  I love the desert around the four corners area.  Very remote and deserted.  Shiprock is a supremely photographic place.  It's as distinctive as Halfdome at Yosemite or The Matterhorn in the Swiss Alps.  I slept on a ledge at the climber's cave, in the climber's cave and on top of a big split boulder on the Southwest slope.  Only had one night in Farmington at the Red Lion.  Most mornings and evenings I was on Shiprock for the best light and picked a good spot for the tripod every time.

  My goal was to actually get my big camera on TOP, or at last high enough to see the morning and evening shadows projected out.  I got close but couldn't quite free-climb the final pitches.  I did find most of the way up.  Can definitely shoot the West Morning shadow next trip, god willing.  The one climb I pushed pretty high I just took a water bottle and wore my 1977 vintage climbing shoes.  They still fit and I went up until I couldn't reverse without a rope and rappel.  Pretty lonesome up there.

  The 5X7 worked great.  I love using the old camera and film holders.

On the North nose of the South Dike puzzling out the Black Giant.

Unmarked grave on the West side.  One of two graves at Shiprock that I know about.  I THINK this might be the ashes of a climber, but just speculating.

Simple camping.  You need the water more than anything else.  I drank a gallon a day.

An awful painting we finally found a place for.

Afternoon howling dust storm.  Had a couple of these.

6:58 on a nice still morning from the West ledge campsite.

Great old lenses.  This is an Ektar 12 inch.  Needs a tune-up at Havel Camera in San Antonio, but it still clicks along.

My little home on the West side.  My camera is on a tripod just in front of my camp spot. Top of the highest talus slope on Shiprock and the climber's cave just around the corner.

Up in the Black Bowl.  The original ascent was through here.  Plaque on the right side commemorates a climbing death.  Nobody gets to this spot but the climbers and madmen.  It's sporty with a very athletic opening crux move that keeps most out.  I was picking my way very carefully.

Artwork, installed.  Hwy 550 and Red Rock road.  The wind will tear it to bits this year and the world will be a better place.

Light on the plain.

Jackson getting up to get down with his Hasselblad.

Near Shiprock in a vigorous rock formation area.  I saw this from a long way out and knew it had to be something special.  Very Brancusiian!

Bouldering.  I worked this into a black and white with my Deardorff and a wide angle.  No Toyota peeking through on film.

Jackson.

Some Navajo regard Shiprock as a sacred site, others don't.  Boulders slathered with sign in the main parking areas.  Windmill tanks and deserted buildings marked up.  Broken bottles, fireworks, condoms, trash all over.

A little Captain Morgan at another windmill grafitti site.

Jackson going snake-eyes at the prospect of having more pixels peeled off.

Stuffed Toyota.  My camera sitting on my camera pack.

Kissing bug.  This one got me.  Full of my blood.  He didn't survive the encounter to enjoy it.

Other flora included really big bats, owls, eagles, falcons.  The falcons made a diving noise that sounded like...well, an unusual sound.  Not a single snake.  Packrats after my food almost every night or scrambling around on top of the little sleeping bag cover I slept in.  Lighter poltergiesting than usual especially for spending so much time near the Black Giant on the South side.

Lotta holds going up but a lotta exposure as well.  I quit about here without my rappel rope.  Over 4000 folks have climbed the rock though it's not allowed.  The climber's experience is not at all like that of the visual artists.  I'm not sure they notice the scenery much.  They don't mention it in writing.  It's the experience of the climb for them.

Curves at the San Juan Goosenecks.  We took a mid-day trip up to see the sights and ran into lots of overseas tourists.

Indian dog calculating the sun angle.  Dogs all over.  Two big pups in a culvert at 550 and Red Rock highway.  I started to feed and water them, but they mostly needed to MOVE.  No water there for months and not going to be any.

Standing on Ansel's famous rock at Monument Valley.  The Navajo built a huge hotel here, but thankfully left the rock.  It's a favorite posing place for vacationers now.

Young european shows how its done.  Her boyfriend was iphoning her and I helped out.  Ansel would be proud!

It's better fresh.

One of my favorite old-time camera stores.  Clock is ticking.  I don't think they will be open next year.  Three out of four in Alb and Santa Fe are just closed.

Hoped to get a waterfall but the thunderstorms skirted us.  Got dust instead.  Hoped to get higher but risked more than I should have for a 60-year-old flatlander.  I did get to spend a lot of solitary time, (a real luxury!), looking at the land and trying to puzzle out the shapes, light and viewpoints.  Jackson and I would meet about 10, I'd reload holders and water, make a sandwich and be back out by 4:00.  Alone until the next morning.  The rare luxury of time and solitude.  Wonderful to be there.  The last morning in my little camp I was shocked and delighted to be confronted with two photos I hadn't ever put together before, though I had shot details.  Just hadn't looked big enough.  Same thing on the final drive out.  Jackson and I stopped to look at a series of details along the rock dike and all of a sudden I saw the whole thing, complete with a huge boulder to shoot it from.  I scrambled up and there it was.  Just not looking big enough.  Left Shiprock full of gratitude.  It's always helping unfold the internal processes.       

Can't wait to get to the film.

                                                                            

Camp Perry Garand Match.

  Firing offhand during the Garand Match.  Shot a 99 prone and then a 93 rapid-send nines out the top of the ten ring, just barely.  Held it a little too close.  That was the end of the run.  Offhand I worked hard but didn't shoot well either.  Silver Medal with a 278.

  Rarely see photos of myself shooting.  This is by Karl Shultz.

Photos from Camp Perry.

This is the best photo of the Vintage Sniper trophy ever taken.

TSRA Teams on Viale Range.

Triple Trouble.

Texas Tough Guy Mitchell Hogg.

Texas Tough Girl Emily Hogg, with Texas Tough Girl Bailey Fairchild on the right.  Infantry Trophy Match.

Minnesota Tough Guy James Pennington in the middle of the Minnesota Infantry trophy Team.

Lt Col Don Tryce getting an award at Petrarca Range for Garand Senior Match.  287!

Clay Hefner getting Distinguished Badge.

Senior EIC award winner: me.  484X11.  35th out of 1125 shooters. First of 163 old guys.

TSRA Gold Leatherneck Trophy WINNERS!  First Civilian Team in the Infantry Trophy Match!

M1 for Vets group at the awards ceremony at Petrarca Range.

Bill Aten with the Senior Carbine trophy, Petrarca Range.

Protests and Imposters.

King Air above the clouds over South Ohio, pointed toward Texas.

  The protest during the President's 100, which started the week at Camp Perry, showed the Army Marksmanships opposition to the top-20 shootoff at the end of the match.  (top 20 finishers shoot 10 more shots at 600 to determine the winner.)  We didn't always have the the top-20 shootoff.  Used to be that the person who won just won the match, period.  The first year they instituted it, the guy who won the first match protested loudly.....and lost the shootoff.  This year all the AMU folks refused to shoot.  I'm all for protests but that did screw up the scores for the other folks in the shootoff.  Also their top guy, Ty Cooper, DID shoot, kind of nullifying the protest effort.   Cooper lost to the second place guy, Jared Perry.

  In my view, it was kind of a mess.  Cooper and the second place fellow both shot perfect scores in the first match, (300s), by the way, then the second place guy, Jared Perry, beat Cooper for the win.

  Here are the results.  I'm 104th.  Right behind Justin Utley.  I needed a point to make the Presidents.

  As I say, I thought it was a mess, but the AMU will probably get their way and get the shootoff format cancelled.  If I remember correctly, the shootoff was Gary Anderson's idea.  Shootoffs are used mostly in Long Range when people tie or shoot above a certain score.  They aren't a new idea in shooting sports.

The second strange event, also involving sportsmanship and procedure, was at the CMP Games Award Ceremony after firing was complete on Saturday afternoon.  A small crowd gathered inside the Petrarca Range barn for the trophies and awards.  The ceremony started out with JJ O'Shea and the M1s for Vets group awarding rifles to some of the guys on the team.  After that we moved through various awards.  I got a wood plaque and a handshake for being High Senior with Springfield 1903.  The top woman, junior, old guy, et awards got passed out.  At the end they start giving out raffle prizes.  With the raffle prizes, you MUST be present to win.  The drawing goes on and on.  It's after 6:00 on Saturday and most folks have headed out to get home or are too tired to come down to Petrarca for chips and diet coke.

  With the thinning crowd and the CMP drawing name after name, the crowd goes wild when someone IS there to claim a prize.  They are giving away cases of ammo, new barrels, stocks and whole rifles.  There are lots of groans when someone who is known wins a rifle...but isn't there.  The last rifle comes up and is won by Rusty Hogg, our friend and competitor from Texas.  Not there.  The next name drawn was Greg Foster, our team mate from Pollock, Texas.  (He and daughter Katye were already 150 miles South in their truck.)  Alan, Rol and I were sitting one bench back from the front, where I had parked myself to get easy access to photos.)  We hear the crowd start to cheer and some guy comes walking up the aisle to get the rifle.  I'm a little confused at first, thinking Greg and Katye had stayed instead of leaving....they had plainly announced "Greg Foster, Pollock, Texas.  This guy is NOT Greg Foster from Pollock, Texas but he goes forward and claims the rifle.  By this time we are on our feet yelling:  "You AREN'T Greg Foster!" in the middle of a cheering crowd.  He lifts the rifle and actually says to us, "One Greg Foster is as good as another!" and then, "Don't worry, I'm giving this rifle to JJ O'Shea."

 We are caught flat-footed, of course but kept yelling, "He's NOT Greg Foster from Texas!" while he hands the rifle to JJ. O'Shea and the crowd begins to break for the exits.

  To the point, we were watching fraud, (He wasn't the winner of the rifle), and theft of a firearm.  I don't care if he was going to melt it down, make needles and vaccinate starving children in Africa, giving the rifle to the M1 for Vets group is beside the point.  It wasn't HIS rifle to give.  Our Greg Foster wasn't going to get it, (not being present), but somebody else WAS.  This guy stole that gun.

  We immediately headed for the the CMP folks, who are being swarmed by well-wishers and friends while the crowd milled around.  They are immediately starting to pack and roll up the set.  I got the ear of the lady in charge and explained everything as plainly and simply as possible.  Following up with a phone call today.

   Just crazy.  I've never seen anything like this before at a CMP or Highpower event.

Update:  Due to the seriousness of this situation, I hope everyone notices I have not even speculated, nor would encourage speculation, on who this man might be.

There and back again.

  Now I've eaten mexican food and slept a night in my own bed.  It's a wonderful thing to be home.  We packed the King Air like it was an American Tourister and got in the air between bands of thunderstorms.    Scott the pilot put us up on top and we sailed home without a bobble.  I sat in front all the way picking my way through the instruments until I found a few to watch and googling at the view.  Cloudy all the way though I did see the Mississippi below after an hour and a half.  Technology is an absolute miracle.  Fairly mind-bending to travel that route with such ease and speed.  We had a little headwind at first and were only moving along at 215.  At the end we were near 325.  The Mars lander got on the red planet last night.  I believe it, just based on what humans can do with the private technology available.


  

Team Day

The Silver Team was just on the other side of the center tower from the Gold Team.  I didn't bother them much, having my own cats to herd.  The Silver team was a pretty good bunch.  We'd gone for youth and getting the experience rather thatn using Greg Foster, Tony Miller and Bill Aten and going for score.  The Silver team shot out-of-competition, so we wouldn't burn any shooters that can be used as a new guy on the Gold Team in future years.

  That said, they were a pretty good bunch.  We had the most and best administrators ever.  Usually the Silver Team coaches itself, provides a scorer next door and uses a team member as Captain.  We had all that covered.  David Keys ran the shop.  I called the wind and handled the coaching on the line and Rol Coggins helped out everywhere else.  

  The team shot well, especially Greg Troxell who started off with a 99 standing at 200 in the dark.  Sitting we were OK on, though we let some points get away.  300 was a little worse and at 600 we struggled.  We were 5th out of 26 teams in the out-of-comp.  2751X39.

Results: HERE

Tower get ready to go as the sun comes up during Team Bullseye day.  Viale range, Camp Perry.

TSRA Silver Team.  Top: Rol Coggins, Izzy, David Keys, Gregg Troxell, me.

Bottom: Jason Michelli, Karl Schultz, Wes Van Bramer.

Izzy during prep period at 200 Rapid fire.

Karl Schultz at 300 yard line.

Izzy at 300 Viale Range.

Team Captain David Keys.  Great guy to have along.  David handled all the stuff behind the scope, I called the wind and tried to keep the horses calm.

Rol pitches in and helps run the line.

David and I after we wrapped up firing.

Silver Team on Viale range after firing Team Match.

Clay Hefner for an extra few poses.

TSRA Team, all of us, Gold and Silver.

More Hefner.

Sniping away with Karl Schultz.

  Vintage Sniper.  Great guns all over the range.  We started showing up around 12 as the last relay went to the pits from the Hearst Doubles and the line quickly built to a couple hundred yards of guys standing in the sun.  I stayed under the tent as long as I could and then joined Rol and Alan Long snaking around the machine gun mounds toward a table of T-shirts.  Great looking hardware all around.  Many Unertal scopes and reproductions.  M1Ds, Mausers, 1903s with every incarnation of optical sights.  Even some Mosins.

 Course of fire was 5 minutes of unlimited sighters at 300 and 600 yards followed by 10 shots from each team member.  The targets came up for 20 seconds, then down for 20, then back up, repeating until the 10 shots were complete.  Each firer would shoot 20 shots for record, 10 at each yardline for a combined score that COULD total 400.

 Justin Burns is in London but we had his 1903A4, built with this match in mind, with a Weaver K2 on it.  Karl and I were first relay so we laid out our stuff.  Karl shot the sighters and after a string of bad line commands from the tower, away we went.  Both of us shot like beginners.  Karl had a crossfire or a round that dissapeared and ruined his score.  I shot a 91 with one X.  Frustrating.

 We shot the other team- two guys with a 1903A4 and an M1D.  The Garand wasn't competitive but the 1903 shot pretty well.  The line commands weren't much better.  The other team got 6:30 for sighters instead of the allowed five minutes.  (The line people had been so objectionable that I waved one over and asked him about it, threatening a protest, just to give him something to chew on besides the competitiors.)  Rol and Alan Long next to us were shooting Alan's all-original 1903A4 and doing a good job.

  At 600 I scored out the other team as they shot worse.  This match is very equipment driven.  When Karl and I came up I shot a string of sighters and got the rifle on at 600.  Shot another 91 with a couple of Xs.  Karl shot and the same zero didn't work at all.  We had to adjust on the fly and weren't very deft.  327 with very few Xs.  Just awful.  Clay and Justin Utley had stacked up the Xs with a 1903A4 and an 8 power Unertal.  They just dropped a few points but they were steamrolled by the folks who won, along with everyone else.

Results here.  The Vintage Sniper match and everything else is in there.  Team Blackfork was 171st out of 241 or so.  Mumph.

T-shirt on Commercial Row.

The Wanderers: Rol and Allan, not wandering but standing in line.

The first T-Shirt of the matches.

Crowd of happy snipers.

The always effervescent John Zuback.

Your humble coorespondant.

Serious hardware.

Justin Burns killing machine.

Clay Hefner, Texan.

Vintage Sniper Match upcoming....

Seven Wild Swans just off the pier, feeding.

Across the bay.

Marina sign at the end of the pier.  Hundreds of boats tied up.

  Rare morning off.  Got up and wandered down to the docks to see the bay.  Seven wild Swans were feeding just off the end of the pier.  Looked like three adults and four youngsters, though the youngsters were pretty big.  Don't get to see a lot of Swans in East Texas.

  Vintage rifle this afternoon.  Karl Schultz and I are shooting.  Going to be interesting.  We are firing justin Burn's rifle that he built for this match....about the time he got transferred to London.  At least his rifle made the match, huh?

  Haven't shot one photo with anything but my phone.  I can't seem to get the zoom working since Katie updated it.  Probably just cause trouble.  Might take a real camera to the Vintage Sniper.

Old Man and the Rifle.

Scott Bronson from Tuba City, Arizona and I on Viale before the LEG match.  Scott is a Navajo so I asked him if we ought to do an X-Ring Way or an AR-15 Way.  He said we could try but if we got it wrong it would probably rain corn and toads, so we didn't.  Both of us still shot pretty well.  I shot a 484X11 for 35th place.  Scott shot a 475 and got 10 points toward his Distinguished Badge!

Cheaper than Scott Fuller and Dave Watters, a Texan who lives in Australia.

Scott Bronson from Tuba City, Arizona.  During the LEG Match 200 rapid fire.

Some young man from the Coalingua Rifle Club.

Range food.  Pickles, banana chips, olives, painkillers.

Emily Hogg.

Random Bransomness.

Reading results.  I beat up on old people.

Your 2012 CMP Senior Trophy Champion at our favorite restaurant.

  Under the berm walkover in the middle of Viale pits, on the catwalk is a clift swallow nest.  There's one frantic youngster on it, just hours away from flying.  The crowd this week has run his parents off though they make frequent passes flickering by like arrows in the air as the gunfire crackles.  The odds of him being alive in 24 hours, unless the parents can pack in the food between cease-fire and dark, are about 10%.  I'm going to see if he is there tomorrow.

  We fired the 50 shot LEG match today on both ranges.  About 1100 folks fired.  When we rolled out it was dark and spitting rain with lightning in the West.  The wind was gusting enough to interfear with walking.  I figured on a two hour rain delay at least but the sun came up, the sky lightened and the wind dropped.  They called us to the line and away we went.

  It's a long day on the range with six relays and alibi strings being shot after every rapid string.  The sun was out most the time, I put on full protection and ran the water through.  Makes for a long day.

  I shot well on several yardlines.  96 standing, 100X6 sitting, 97 at 300 and then I got to shoot first in a terrible wind at 600.  I took an educated look and decided it was 3 1/2 minutes of left wind.  I was off by a minute.  First shot was just in the 7 ring at 3:00.  Put on 4 1/2 minutes of wind and away I went.  Once I got in the X ring I shot as fast as I could, finishing in about eight minutes.  20 shots.  They ran a snappy target.  Finished with 484X11 which was about 35th overall and won the Senior Trophy.

  Winning the Senior trophy, as John Rynard would say, is like being the fastest mule at the Kentucky Derby.  Still, they have to give it to somebody and I did manage to beat Don Tryce.  Pretty crazy to get this old.  I'm compensating by mocking young shooters for their youth and inexperience.  I was five times the age of a 12 year old who was firing on my point.  12 years.  Holy cows......er....calves.

  Perhaps my goal should be to win anything that has "senior" or "vintage" in the title.  I'm still National Vintage Military Rifle Champ for a few days and now I'm the CMP Senior Champ.  Maybe I'll get a handicapped parking tag to go along with it and spend my time griping about young people, the good old days and the government.

Update:  163 old men shooting the Senior Trophy.  That's a lot of handicapped parking.  Ended up 35th of 1148 overall competitors.

  I hope that two week old chick under the overwalk made it to Thursday.