Hunting with Rich Lucibella. (Humor)

[MAD DOG]

The plan was to call some coyotes, and assassinate them in retribution for the numerous housecats of mine that they had so shamelessly pillaged.

We would effect this by acquiring a couple of the local lagomorphs as hanging bait, to be placed over the newfangled call system that Rich had ingeniously improvised from shoelaces, rubber bands, toiletpaper rolls, and about 9.6 million dollars worth of state of the science electronics.
This elaborate remote controlled coyote deceiving system would shame the best efforts of the ECM gurus of the Airforce, and coyotes would be standing in line for a shot at our call; or so I was led to believe.

But first, we had to shoot the rabbits.
Rich is prone to carrying everything from moist towelettes to mortar rounds in his "basic" hunting kit, so it tends to weigh slightly more than my usual complement of 5 rounds of extra ammo, and three squares of toilet paper.
The fun began when Rich, who was walking point in the rabbit infested area, sighted the first potential victi...er, ah, target.

The gyrations of the gear exploding from Rich's back, with the attendant arm waving and dancing to avoid cactus was alarming to me and terrifying to the rabbit, who, being a sensible sort, rabbited off.
Rich took off after it at full speed.
When he (Rich) broke cover a few minutes later, it was noted that he was rabbitless. He regained his pack, and began stalking the next one.
Once sighted, the rabbit and myself were once again treated/alarmed to see Rich dump all of his gear in a flurry of frantic flapping, and take off running after the rabbit.
This same basic scene occurred no less than six times.
The fact that Rich had a rifle with him seemed to have gone completely from his mind.
I asked him if the equipment trail was intended to help him find his way out of the brush, or if he was trying to leave a trail for me to follow.
I suggested that perhaps he would be better off trying to actually shoot the rabbit next time, as opposed to running it down...
His bizarre behavior remains unexplained.
Maybe that's just how they do it in Florida.

We finished the day rabbitless.
The 9.6 million dollar coyote calling system
required numerous hands on modifications, and appeared to be a very effective coyote repelling device. As soon as I can afford one, I will hang it on my cat's neck, thereby rendering him coyote proof.



[This message has been edited by MAD DOG (edited July 23, 1999).]

[Rob Pincus]

I can see that.

;)

[Rich Lucibella]

Miserable coyote loving curmudgeon that you are! :) ;) :)

Now tell the the nice people the following:
-Why didn't you have your own CamelBack hydrator on? (Could it be because, when you hefted it from the truck, it was empty and you wound up using mine in the AZ desert sun, me acting a party porter?)
-Why, when all the rabbits were spotted at a distance of <15 feet and a shoot time of <1/2 second did you take the 12 gauge and give me a .22 rifle with those funky sights?
-Why did you refuse to allow me to use Fluffy the Cat as bait?...I know I could have hit her, even with the gear on.

I just knew I should have rented that satellite time for spotting our quarry!
Rich

ps: And don't get me started on that quail you missed (twice), that I had to shame you on!

[This message has been edited by Rich Lucibella (edited July 23, 1999).]

[MAD DOG]

I did not miss the quail. I finessed the shot to intentionally stun him so that you could have a chance at shooting him, instead of running him down...
I must say though, that you can field dress a quail faster than anyone I have ever seen.

As far as my choice of weapons was concerned, I was carrying the twelve gauge in anticipation of the all too likely event that you wounded a lagomorph and we were charged by the enraged beast.

I never carry water when someone else is.
Their water always seems to taste better, rather like stolen watermelon.
The water bearer can also be a convenient source of protein in an emergency.

[This message has been edited by MAD DOG (edited July 23, 1999).]

[Rich Lucibella]

ROTFLMAO...again and again!
Tears coming out my eyes, coke out my nose. A classic comeback, Mr. Dog!!!!
Rich

[Rob Pincus]

Coca-Cola no doubt.. !!!!

You guys are a mess.

I really can't wait until I get to observe a Mr. Rich & Mr. Dog hunting excursion first hand.

[Rich Lucibella]

Thanks, Rob. I meant Coke, not coke. My heart's too damn old to handle that other stuff.
Rich

[45King]

First really good belly laugh I've had in nearly a week.
Geez, Rich, it sorta reminds me of 2 friends who decided to take a couple of girls out boating on the Savanah River. They went to the most popular landing, which is always crowded, and launched their boat. Boat wouldn't start, and upon examination, they found that the battery was dead. Idea:remove battery from truck! Great. Now the boat is running. Uh, how we gonna move the truck off the boat ramp? (with umpteen million people waiting to launch) Shuffle battery back to truck, move truck, shuffle battery back to boat. By this time, the two ladies were, needless to say, completely impressed by "The Two Stooges." These were the same two guys who, when trying to blast out a boat channel in a stream between 2 ponds, were attempting to use a posthole digger to bury their dynamite bundles under running water on a sandy stream bed. Yours truly happens along at this time, and suggests that since they have some creosoted fence posts and a sledgehammer handy, perhaps it would be easier to just drive the post in to the desired depth, pull it out, and then shove the sticks down the hole. You could actually see the lightbulbs popping over their heads. Scary to think that both guys are dentists. Did have fun with the leftover dynamite, though. Taped it to pine trees and then detonated it from about 75 yds out with a Ruger Blackhawk in .41 Mag. Did you know that it actually take 4 sticks taped opposite each other to cut down a 12" tree in this manner? One stick just knocks chunks of bark and a little wood off the tree.

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Shoot straight regards, Richard
The Shottist's Center forums.delphi.com/m/main.asp?sigdir=45acp45lc (http://forums.delphi.com/m/main.asp?sigdir=45acp45lc)

[4V50 Gary]

Rich, by Coke do you mean that black rock type stuff the English shove into their stoves to keep warm in the winter?

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Vigilantibus et non dormientibus jura subveniunt

[Long Path]

I'm still trying to figure out Rich's behavior with regard to running after the rabbits (whom I until college biology thought were of the phylum rodentia), without firing the rifle, despite the funky sights?

Next time I get to AZ, I need to look you boys up. Next time y'all are headed to Texas, gimme a sec to put on the Kevlar, and we'll go huntin'...

Mad Dog: More! More! (The guys at work are still trying to figure out why I'm laughing at my monitor....)

[This message has been edited by Long Path (edited July 25, 1999).]

[MAD DOG]

One must understand that Rich is actually a highly trained, very accomplished rifleman, and he is used to a certain level of sophistication in his chosen weapons.
The words "State of the Science" come to mind.
I admit that I threw him an unintentional curve when I handed him a rifle based on a
120 year old design.
Out of fairness to him, and a desire to remain friends, I accept full responsibility for the attendant confusion (and subsequent humor value). I feel that this is the least I can do.

The rifle in question, "funky sight" wise, was a Winchester 94/22, with the standard buckhorn type sights found on that model.
Rich was impressed by the color and pattern of the stock. I explained that walnut wood stocks usually looked about like that.
He asked incredulously,"Wood? On a gun?"

The first thing that Rich did was to try to mount a bayonet and Surefire light on it, but the mechanical facility for doing so was not a part of the basic equipment found on the rifle.
Thank God for duct tape, found of course in Rich's pack, just to the left of the 10KW emergency generator.

He was clearly confused by the sights, which required no glass, batteries, switches, reticles, knobs, lasers, detatchable mounts, or maintenance.
The tubular magazine also proved challenging, as it did not require removal from the weapon in order to reload. I reassembled the weapon after his first solo reload attempt, and explained that the bullets go in pointy end up. He had no further problems with that aspect of the manual of arms for the weapon.

You could see him fidgeting and fuming as he tried to estimate exact ranges clear out to 100 yards with only the height of the front sight to go by.
After a while he seemed to get the hang of it. He discovered that range could be estimated by running up to the last known position of the target, and counting paces...



[This message has been edited by MAD DOG (edited July 25, 1999).]

[Rich Lucibella]

MD-
Sure, I'll be the butt of your joke! ;)

LongPath-
The issue of "chasing down" the rabbit was as exaggerated as Mr. Dog's compliment about my rifle accomplishments. Fact is, we (I should say "I", since MD couldn't seem to spot one if it bit him on the vitals), had only a glimpse of our quarries before they'd disappear into the brush. This is evidenced by his own kill score with the 12 gauge.

As rabbits tend to run a bit and stop, awaiting the second shot, it became my policy to drop my (errr Kevin's?) CamelBak and move to a spot wherein I might get a shot.

Failing that, it is my follow up policy to charge headlong into the fray shooting anything that moves...and much that doesn't.

However, I swear we'd have taken several of the dangerous beasties, if only Mr. Dog had assented to my repeated requests for air strikes. Some people just don't know how to hunt!
Rich

[MAD DOG]

I am still wondering why you kept referring to the rabbits as "Charlie", and your muttered curses about "cong this" and "cong that".
Once during the hunt, I accidentally broke wind, and Rich dived behind a bush. He ripped out his tiny motorola and began screaming into it, demanding "Fast Movers", whatever those are.
"Nape the godless bastards, Now!", he cried.
"We have casualties! I have a man down.
Oh God, where are my legs? I can't feel my legs!
Send the Jolly Green, and give me an arty strike on my position! That's right. MY position! Charlie is all around us!"

With tears in his eyes, he turned to me and said, "I always knew I would die in battle. It is my destiny. Save yourself, forget about me. That's an order, Gump."

The only thing to do was to butt stroke him with the 12 gauge.
When he regained what passes for consciousness with Rich, I forced him to eat a couple of salt tablets, and drink some water.
He calmed down a bit then, but kept muttering, "The Horror, the Horror..."

[.]

Sigh....

Any body-count on spiders, stuffed prarie dogs and tents?

I'm not sure why Rich ran up to Fluffy's last know VIC, but after this diatribe, I know why I would... Safety!

Didn't anyone tell you guys about putting out a pan of water mixed with chem-lite juice? The 'yotes just lap it up and then glow in the dark. Ya don't gotta break any laws by jacklighting! Bonus for night tracking is just following the glowing tree trunks...

[Rob Pincus]

Mykl,

Let's keep the Army secrets to ourselves, okay buddy.

Knowledge is a dangerous thing, and those two obviously are too well armed already.


MD,

If Rich goes into another one of his episodes, might I suggest threatening him with a "trip to the hole" if he keeps it up. Whisper into his ear that he is going to "take a ride" and he should snap out of it.

[This message has been edited by Rob (edited July 26, 1999).]

[MAD DOG]

Actually, whether or not it was the method approved and used by others he hunts with, I really enjoyed butt stroking him with my 12 gauge.
It is a technique that I am comfortable with, and it had the desired effect.
That pop psychology stuff ain't for me.

[Rob Pincus]

Well, maybe I'll just have to try it your way, MD.

Rich,

When are we going hunting ??

[fal308]

ROTFLMAO.
You guys are getting almost too humorous. :)I damn near spilled my breakfast on my keyboard. I may have to quit eating while reading more of this.

[Hilton]

Rich:
You clearly required the company of the "tactical hunter" on this venture so that I could have cleared the danger areas of the threats, uh rabbits, before you entered. You did remember to slice the pie around trees and mirror around big rocks first, right?

[MAD DOG]

In our latest episode:

Rich Lucibella calls me at work, about 1300.
He asks, "Is this triple A?"
"Yeah right,pal," was my witty retort.
R: "No, really, I need some help. We're sort of stuck in the mud."
K: What do you mean?
R: Well me and Harry were trying to cross Big Chino Wash...

At this point in the story I must elucidate. Big Chino Wash is a seasonal river. It is rainy season here. Monsoons. Ark building weather. It is, defacto, a low spot. Rainwater collects there. Mud collects there.
Biblical rains = Biblical mud.

K: Bwahahahahaha! You're kidding, right?
R: No, I am not kidding. So, uh, can you come and pull us out?
K: I just dislocated my right middle finger.
(I really did. Got it caught in the grinder. It hurts.) I will come out once I have heeled up.
R: No, Please! I really need you to come and pull us out.
K: Alright, alright. I'll be there in about an hour. You realize of course that you are some 35 miles from me right now?
I have to get some chain, shovels, and a camera...

I arrived on the scene to see Rich and Harry caked in wet and dry mud. A lovely red Chevy Blazer was buried in the mud up to the door frames beside them.

K: So, did anyone mention to you two that when it rains around here, all of the low spots, particularly the washes, get sort of muddy?
Oh, that's right, I told you that a week ago, Rich.
Bwhahahahahahahahahahaha.
Oh, hello Harry, how you doing? Long time no see.

I immediately stuck out my hand to shake. Harry has a very manly handshake.
Firm. Strong.
My screams as I realized that he was crushing my recently dislocated finger were distinctly unmanly.

I pulled them out.
They are buying me dinner tonight. I can't wait to see what adventure may come of that.

[Rob Pincus]

If I didn't have two plates full of stuff to do on this side of the country, I'd be on a plane with a video camera. You guys are having too much of a good time.

[Long Path]

Rob, if that flight connects through DFW, you'll be flying in with me. Just need to find an air-worthy hard case for my pistol and a rifle or 3. Gotta stock up some fave handloads for Wyle E. Coyote, and some high-speed film for the wabbit-chasing.

Maybe the Kevlar vest... hmm? Yes? Yes.

[Futo Inu]

You guys are hilarious.

[Rich Lucibella]

Don't pay the Ransom!!! We're back!

This thread may go down as the funniest in TFL history.
Hilton-
Welcome home. Coulda used you to cow the rabbits and coyotes into submission....Hilton's thousand yard stare actually works out to a thousand yards.

Rich

[Rich Lucibella]

As for the "stick in the mud" issue:
The "Harry" referred to by Mad Dog is none other than the legendary SEAL, Trainer, Protection Specialist, Hollywood Tech Advisor and TFL Moderator, Harry Humphries. Harry and I were on a secret mission: to spend two days together without winding up in jail.

Given his background, Harry always moves toward water. I knew this. I didn't know how literally he follows his instincts. Harry directed his rented Blazer in a bee line over open country direct toward the semi dry wash...he paused only long enough for me to utter the words "Well, if you think we can make it..." and plunged in. We got about eight feet across and two feet down....straight down!

Three ranchers were sitting in a truck on the other side watching. One stepped out of the truck and said, in his best Mountaineer accent "Saw it right off", got back in and drove away.

Harry suggested that we carry the truck out. Harry picked up his end. I picked up the telephone. Mad Dog to the rescue. The day was saved.

The following day, we headed cross country and returned to the scene of the crime during a deluge. I'd had the presence of mind to buy tow straps and take two cars. Through no fault of his own, Harry's Blazer sucked right into the mud of a rutted track....it appears that the 4-Wheel drive of these vehicles is barely acceptable for dry gravel. I had to pull it out with my car.

Ignoble use of a Mercedes, you say? Poppycock. Bolderdash. Horse Hockey. It worked just fine.

In any case, we stayed out of jail. Harry's off to straighten out some Hollywood movie set or quell some small foreign war. I'm stuck with my gretest tormentor....Mad Dog McClung.
Rich Lucibella

[MAD DOG]

I have been commissioned by TFL to fabricate 20 "Lucibella got stuck here" signs.
We have already used ten percent of them...
I have a feeling that they will get used up pretty quick.

Rich has one of those Mercedes SUV thingys.
I call it the "Buchenwald Buggy".
In this case, I think that "SUV" stands for "Stupid Underpowered Vasteofmoney".
Power everything, miniscule motor, and enough ground clearance for even the most agressive shopping mall parking lots. Impressive.
Less than a month in Arizona, and it is already falling apart. The rear left quarterpanel is coming unstuck, and the car actually has dirt on it.
The fog lights have disappeared. Scraped off going through a Taco Bell drive through, no doubt.
And yet:
He has a near religious belief in it's mystic ability to remain unstuck.
He is on the road now, and I made it clear to him that once he was more than 100 miles from me, he was entirely on his own, getting unstuck wise.
Godspeed, Rich.

[Long Path]

Ah, the new M-Class. Unibody. Built in... Georgia? Arkansas? One of the two...

Reputed to be held to tolerances far in excess of an XT Gremlin or of a Ford Pinto.

But so cute!

[Art Eatman]

Well, some folks just haven't fingered out that Mercedes and Poochies are Germany's revenge for WW II...

Mercedes and Cocaine: God's way of telling you that you have too much money!

[Rich Lucibella]

In the interests of truth in product reviews:
- I'm not a fan of the ML430.
- It's butt ugly.
- It has few power options
- It was designed to compete with the Explorer, Pathfinder, Land Cruiser etc....not the Suburban Class vehicle.
- It's too low to the ground.
- The 4.3 Liter, Eight provides this vehicle with better torque and HP/Weight of any vehicle in it's class. Plenty of power. Great mid range and high end torque. 5,000 lb towing package....unusual for a normal sized SUV.
- I have yet to get stuck in it, but did pull a Bronco out that was following me.
- The other makers (including Navigator) each rushed to produce more powerful engines as a result of the 430.

Now I do understand Kevin's idea of luxury transport. In fact, I've commisioned him to purchase a 12 year old, beat up, 3/4 ton Chevy Pickup just like his for my own use. I'm looking forward to driving it in the AZ outback. As for taking it 2400 miles from FL to AZ? I'd rather go Greyhound. ;)
Rich

[Art Eatman]

Well, Lil Toy has 238,000 miles on it now; it's gettin' broke in pretty good. I don't care much how far into the back country some critter will get you; it's the gettin' back that counts. Ain't had to walk or holler, "Help!"...

Hey, get whatever truck-critter you want. I'll convoy along, and bring my help-them-folks chains along... :)

Art

[Long Path]

Art: Likewise for my F-250 diesel with 231,000 miles; she's just beginning to get broken in. What it lacks in traction (2WD), it makes up for in torque. I just leave the towstrap on the rear bumper all the time, now. Every so often the come-along comes out of the toolbox...