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Art Eatman · November 30, 2001, 04:13 PM

Long Path wandered out to Terlingua to see if he could help me find a Mighty Mule Deer. Well, MD 1, us 0.

(An inch of snow and temperatures in the twenties discourage me from sitting on a rock, awaiting Mr. Mulie. Driving around several miles of jeep trails and seeing no tracks crossing the road indicated the deer preferred bed to wandering, as well...They were smarter than we.)

Driving from home back to my hunt camp in convoy with LP, I was suddenly taken with the notion of partaking of one of my favorite beverages from the cooler in the back of my pickemup. I stopped and opened the door.

With the door not yet fully opened, a coyote jumped from some brush below me, across a dry wash and stopped in another clump of brush. "Rifle, not beer," sez I.

So, I sat down and waited. Sure enough Mrs. Wiley decided she should move on out of her clump and practice being elsewhere. After about fifty feet, she stopped, turned sideways, and looked back at me--which is what I'd been counting on, since that's what coyotes generally do.

Big mistake. This field test of Mr. Federal's '06 Premium High Energy removed more coyote chest than allowed for survival.

It is obviously contra-survival to ignore Satchel Paige's advice.

, Art

PS: LP got a nice javelina, but that's another story.

November 30, 2001, 04:13 PM	#1
Art Eatman Staff in Memoriam Join Date: November 13, 1998 Location: Terlingua, TX; Thomasville, GA Posts: 24,798	Coyotes Got A Bad Habit Long Path wandered out to Terlingua to see if he could help me find a Mighty Mule Deer. Well, MD 1, us 0. (An inch of snow and temperatures in the twenties discourage me from sitting on a rock, awaiting Mr. Mulie. Driving around several miles of jeep trails and seeing no tracks crossing the road indicated the deer preferred bed to wandering, as well...They were smarter than we.) Driving from home back to my hunt camp in convoy with LP, I was suddenly taken with the notion of partaking of one of my favorite beverages from the cooler in the back of my pickemup. I stopped and opened the door. With the door not yet fully opened, a coyote jumped from some brush below me, across a dry wash and stopped in another clump of brush. "Rifle, not beer," sez I. So, I sat down and waited. Sure enough Mrs. Wiley decided she should move on out of her clump and practice being elsewhere. After about fifty feet, she stopped, turned sideways, and looked back at me--which is what I'd been counting on, since that's what coyotes generally do. Big mistake. This field test of Mr. Federal's '06 Premium High Energy removed more coyote chest than allowed for survival. It is obviously contra-survival to ignore Satchel Paige's advice. , Art PS: LP got a nice javelina, but that's another story.