IT TIME REGAIN MY BALANCE AFTER DAD"s DEATH

My father, Norman Mead, lived to fullest. He seven sons and a deep spiritual catholic faith with intellect. He was converted from the Church of Christ. Norm was preserved by my younger brothers who adored him and my mother a devout Irish Catholic. They who could never bear to be without his presence and yet his extreme life style and sins being the youngest made him so adored no matter what his mental or physical condition.

Father was the consummate architect/builder, a devout family man, a gifted father and a husband whom women dream of. He married a college beauty who exorcised his demons from the horrors of the Japanese Islands fights during WWII.

Norman maintained his innocence and delighted in having everything. From his early years in Barrington Illinois to Trout Valley to Arizona where he kept his horses, hunting dogs and honey bees His children for the most part caught his love for the outdoors. He never gave up until he mastered nit, deeply embedded me with the passion to learn and be a student and neverf ever think you are better than the next person. Norm refused to become an elitist and still managing to be a bass plugger even though he made the finest Fly Rods and could tie the most elaborate flies.

Norman was a tennis player, singer, skier, marksman, hunter, fly fisherman, photographer, gem stone cutter dog trainer, horse trainer, falconer, audiophile, architect, community developer and founder of Streamwood, Trout Valley, Brigdoon and Barrington Woods Illinois and Green Valley Arizona.

He leaves this world for his next adventure. God help them

REMEBERING THE GLORIOUS TWELFTH

Ellen and I choose to marry in August 30 years ago. We choose the 12th in Lake Tahoe which also was the opening of the Grouse season in Scotland the "GLORIOUS TWELFTH." I love what comes forth from the Isle including the music, single malts, double barrels shotgun, British bikes, fly fishing and best of all Labradors.

Alas afew pics of my Glorious 12th grouse hunting in Scotland

THE FISH WHISPERers

There is one place on East coast I can enjoy...fishing the Outer Banks with "mi amigo" Bill Hogan, the pinnacle of a fisherman. William is a full tilt Outer Banker fisherman who morphed into a sophistic with knowledge that runs the gambit of politics and business to Ocean currents and fish schedules without the baggage of an urbanite or ill tempered red neck. Hogan has fished the Gulf currents off Hatteras and Oregon Inlet for white marlin and and other game fish almost his whole life. He has persuaded many to invest in the real estate of the Banks while waiting for the correct sea temps and photo period to launch his boat and chase Drum, Stripper and Cobia.

Hogan and I have crossed paths in Yellowstone and North Carolina. We fished the same fish bucket rivers that empty into the Bering Sea of Alaska. And when I leave him, there is always a residual of vivid memories. Few, except women have this affect upon me. And so when I called Bill to tell him I was driving down from D.C. to the family's beach house near Duck, North Carolina, the call forwarded to a tuna tower where Hogan and several compards were searching for the great fish Cobia, Rachycentron canadum. He said he might cutoff the chat if he spotted a cruiser but I was to come on down as the Cobia were migrating northwards.

The night before our trip, Bill came over to the house and cooked up some Cobia that surpassed Wahoo. We rendezvoused at TW's bait shop next morning and meant two of his long term Banks fish whispers. They were very intently curious of me as a six gun westerner from Reno 911. All showed southern hospitality the Outer Banks is renown for.

His boat was a inshore fisherman's dream. Hand built with an open configuration, plenty of free free board but a shallow enough draft to navigate the movable shoal of the inlet. His Yamaha got the boat up quickly and was very economical on fuel consumption as opposed to my older 350 Volvo Penta. His companions for the day were Louis and Dave and at once, it was clear that Louis's was the son of an osprey. He had a keen steady way about him and had me, this jaded travel fixated by his tales of catching stripper over an orange sized boobber drifting bait over huge fish. If there was to be fish today nothing could escape Bill and Louis's stereo vision and God help the prey. Dave, the laid back entertainer spoke of his travels with his high school buddies and relish fishing the Gulf currents and bill fish. He would meet me near our Montana fish camp this fall . His long range cruiser remained silent in Dry Dock until the glitzy northern urbanites felt more compelled, again, to flee and spend their inheritance gilt on the outer banks and connect to nature.

We sailed through the Oregon Inlet and headed south. All except I, went atop to the tuna tower to hunt for the cruising Cobia . The sun's angle was tough to get a fix but Louis had spotted several Cobias before they sounded. They were going to be spooky today. Dave came down probably to check to see if I had sea legs or was blowing breakfast. Bill's launch was so steady to the 3-4 foot chop, I never felt quezzy all day. Dave was giving me the the blow by blow accounts of what was happening above and we chatted how bad science had probably shut down the beach for access. I was lost in thoughts of how my fellow scientists sold out to the highest bidder, when the the boat kicked into high gear for several minutes before coming to an idle. !2 lbs lines with bright color feather resembling crabs were flipped to several large Cobia cruising a foot below the surface. These were gentle giants seemly prehistoric like a hybrid between a bottle nose dolphin and a ling cod. They seemed to smile and were curious with not a care in the worlds and certainly obliviously to what Hogan had in mind. As soon as Bill cast to the larger fish, it drove to his lure and Bill gently set the hook. He fought the fish from the tower as Dave prepared the net below. The second fish stayed with the hooked Cobia as Louis tried to entice it to strike. The smaller Cobia went after it as Bill kept the other Cobia from running the keel. Dave even threw a live eel rig but the other Cobia kept a safe distance away

These fish behave much like our Baja Dorado when we hook a bull. We keep it aft as the commotion attracts other Dorado for easy picking for a well presented fly. There is not doubt that one could cast a fly to these cruiser Cobia with a roll cast by I would not attempt it unless I deployed a 12 wt. Bill recalled the women demanding fish so we all agreed to keep the Cobia for a fish feed.

Several more runs down towards Oregon Inlet when Bill pulled the plug and we were in dock by 5:15 and sipping beer on the Sound by 6:00. This was another special day with Bill Hogan. I need to drag these guys down to the Baja. With their skill sets they'd never go into port and the Sea of Cortez would welcome them with her bounty

BACK TO THE CAPITAL

Back East... They call it Potomac Fever. Why else would anybody live there except to feel part of the power structure or isolation that is rampant within and near the beltway. Everyone is or was government employed. Once you pass through that system the isolation from the rest of the nation is so complete you must reside near your brethren. Sad but very real state of mind. But the history of years past and the founding of the nation makes up for the climate of helplessness. I can enjoy but for a few days, at best, New York in September and Washington in the spring but quickly we pine for the West's wide open spaces, dry climate and snow capped peaks.


We arrived in Dulles to a humid evening. After being picked up by my sister-in-law and depositied at the Hilton Ballston, early next morning while EJ went to see her MUM, I took the metro to the National Gallery to see the Degas and Rodin sculpture. The National Gallery of Art is my favorite Washington place and the French impressionist at the top of the list. After a decompressing day down town, it was time to visit the Gleeson clan for a family gathering. I drove done to Woodbridge in what came to be a noisy auto, a Mercedes E class. The nose level was unbelievable and the ergonomics worthy of a tractor. No wonder Chrysler and Mercedes split the sheets. I've been a fan of Mercedes all my life until now and owned Sb, SEL 4.5 , SEL 6.3 and several motorbikes but this car was the most uncomfortable machine I've ever drove. If you can not trust Mercedes who can you trust.We decided to visit Fort Meyer and the grave site of grandfather at Arlington. How ironic he is buried next to the Pentagon which he did not enjoy working within.


The Hilton was my sanctuary any got an great night sleep before the journey down to the Beach house. I parked the Benz outside the Hotel hoping someone would steal it so we could get grandmother a comfortable ride. But next morning no such luck and we were off by 9:00

We arrived at the beach house 5 hours later and the house was at 94 and the air conditioner not working. We had to try and sleep with wet towels over our face. I wanted to leave and get back home but thinking about the fishing and the friends I knew and seeing Ellen smiling made the crowds and heat worthwhile

The 1870's weapons

1870's

The war had ended, General Grant,the war hero, was President and America had turned its attention to the West where gold and unlimited opportunities were to be had. England was enjoying great prosperity under Queen Victoria and the orderly Victorian age was in full bloom. Although there were several American gun makers to meet the needs of the American wild markets, the British had managed to turn gun making into an art form as weapons gain social acceptance. American weapons were still a utilitarian instrument meant to put food on the table, protect the farm against intruders and push the native off the hunting lands. Sharps and Winchesters were long distance shooter while the Colts were the go to side arm of the Texas rangers.

America in the 1870 was akin to a bar brawl, while in Britain, the social classes demanded refinement in their weapons for use on burgeoning estate shooting and overseas stalking in Africa and India. W. & C. Scott and Sons were the premier gun makers in England during the 1870's and made guns to meet all demands. Without peer the W. & C. Scott Premier hammer gun was the finest weapon produced in Britain during the 1870's .

This masterpiece was finished the same month as Custer, the bottom cadet of his West Point Class, took on and lost to the combined forces of Sioux and Cheyenne warriors. Custer was out gunned, out manned and outflanked by Crazy Horse. Custer was so disdained by U.L Grant that many thought Grant clear the path to help Custer command the 7th to their tragic ending. Grant, the humble veteran war monger knew how destructive arrogance was on the newly formed battle fields. It took Lincoln almost 3 years to rid the Union Army of pompous arrogant commanders and place Grant in command. Similar the Indians wars were just beginning and arrogance would initially rule the day until cooler heads prevailed. Very much like Iraq with Bremmer, Rumsfeld and Chenney. Seems today after 5 years may have our Grant in David Pratreaus

This W.& C Scott Premiere hammer gun is # 2 of a pair and it was acquired from a former employee of Holland and Holland. I was in New Zealand visiting Otago University with my wife. We were walking the streets of Dunedin when I spotted this wall hanger. The gun was removed from the wall, after close inspection my juices were streaming. It was a Premier in crisp condition but the tubes needed to be sleeved. I struck the deal with the gentleman and when I return to the States I had Kirk Merrington examine the tubes. We agreed to restored it.

Presently, I use the gun on North Dakota an Saskatchewan upland game during the fall campaign and on pass shooting doves in Arizona. It shall be buried with me

WEAPONS FOR THE FIELD- BRITISH 1860-1870's

Here is a picture of Queen Victoria and her husband Albert taken in 1860. Albert soon died and Victoria went into forever mourning

Seems plausible that I only caretake these fine weapon for a brief time. They will certainly survive me as they did their previous owners. Like fine art, they are timeless and when view carefully under a magnifying glass they amaze one that human hands can construct from wood and metal to give one a grand time hunting the fields. It is amazing that these weapons meant for social events were handcrafted by candlelight

Somehow, I suppose, they will slip from my grasp hopefully find another nimrod to cherish them. I made a pack with my progeny not to let these out of my estate but maybe a fast car, a women or a trip of a lifetime could change all that. I love my Scottish and English guns. A Holland and Holland Royal Ejector is a dandy to the McNaughton 16 bore blitz action. I try to own British guns manufactured during the reign of Queen Victoria who rule at the pinnacle of British power. These weapons are an artistic representation that the stability of Queen Victoria long reign brought to Britain. Mrs Brown's rule was highlighted by her love of Ireland, shooting, dogs and her family. All values I understand albeit a colonialist.

From the 1860's.

I have had several from this era but none finer than an exquisite Scottish masterpiece made by James McCririck of Ayr, a port city of south of Glasgow, Scotland. The maker was probably the most sought after by Southern sharpshooters during the civil war and he trained many who later made guns for McNaughton and then Dickson. The McCririck 12 bore with 30 inch Damascus tubes is the only Scottish rotary under lever (Jones patents) back action hammer gun probably in existence. The McCririck is as tight as the day it was launched. Doug Turnbull restored the action and the 12 bore was re browned by Keith Keitcher. The McCririck is probably the rarest hammer guns as it is the only Scottish under lever hammer gun functioning. The fences are perfect and accented with with high profile hammers, double triggers and open chokes. This weapon was primarily used for rough hunting as driven grouse was not in fashion until the 80's. The gun has put many North Dakota and English Pheasants on the table

THE HUNTING AND FISHING TRAILS TO MEXICO

The Arizona hunting season ended well for us. The kids made it back to Reno and back to college enriched with campfires warm days and great food. The hunting dogs are gradually morphing into reptiles and love the warm days to lounge sleep and then hunt. Although they would enjoy a great chukar chase they enjoy the Mexican dove hunts and swimming in the saltwater. Our lab loves hitting the surf and body surfing back with a bumper in her mouth. The German Wirehair is a bit more passive but once she sees her big sister the lab she is all dog.

Cross the border is always a chore esp with guns but we have it down to a science and they officials in Nogales knows us and besides they think hammer gun and side by side are harmless .

We will hunt the mountain west of Cuilican and well as fishing the lakes like El Salto and Comadero. There is a campground on the ocean where I can surf fish and bass fish within the same day and then hunt ducks and doves with quail higher up. No snakes just wave after wave of whitewings. Our bird boys were cute as had every birds field dressed by happy hour.

The sunset over camp were spectacular, the oyster fresh and the Pacific Shrimp huge. The surf was just right for the hunting dogs and Belle and Fe could retrieve the bumpers for hours.... Many ask why we don't have a house on the Baja or beach. We feel it would tie us down to a spot. With a camper we can pretty much "carpe diem."

ON THE CRUSIER V TWIN NEAR TUCSON

There is no sense of freedom as the wind in your hair on a bright warm day sitting on a well running machine. It is one of those Zen times as a trout rising to a dry fly or a n explosive flush of a cock rooster or a Canvasback coming to the decs.

I've been riding since college

Mexico and Arizona

We are back in the Great Basin after 4 months on the road, writing, camping, hunting, fishing in Arizona and Mexico. We fell in love with Mexico again. This was my 45th straight year of travels there and one of the finest. I just don't know how and why the Mexicans put up with their northern neighbors. There is no place in the world as wonderful, enchanting and exotic as Mexico. The dove, hunting, quail and a new species Mexican, grouse were fabulous. It exceeds South America in almost every way. The Mexican inshore fishing for snook and pargo and freshwater bass was superb. Nothing exceeds a sunrise and sunset over the Pacific

Doves and Quails were exception this year. Better than our Nevada Chukars although we found three sites where the spring freeze missed them and they were very numerous with many young of the year birds Our double guns performed flawlessly again and our fields dogs, our buddies were at their peak after Canada. The female lab I swear speaks to us and the German Wirehair is all hunter but kind and faithful albeit a little on the diminished side. Kinda like a savant child with math or music

For the next posting we will finish off our camping hunting tales and move down into deep Mexico along the Gulf up to the highlands and travel back up the coast and on to AZ for Spring Training and data crunching. We are trying our new data mining techniques on baseball.

THE FAMILY UNITES FOR CHRISTMAS CAMPING AND HUNTING

All my children in College at the same time... it a wonder we get to see them. Cate is back from studies in England Nick and Tom are hacking away at Engineering and Ellen is busy with her forecasting software. Arizona i fine this year with plenty of birds, great weather and great camp fires. It will be a short camp only a week before the kids head back north and Ellen and I head to Old Mexico for 5 weeks on the beach.

My guns this years are the W& C Scot hammergun premiere grade that is an excellent speciem of fine workmanship. I also deploy a 28 ga which to my thinking is more accurate that then 20 bores and so we all get our daily limits with great shoots fast and furious.

This year we invite a fine young man Luke an avid shooter and student to join us. He is expereinced with camping and dirt biking and so he is an seamless addition and a delight