G20man
09-27-2004, 19:05
The Coyote pack was hungry. One rested in the shade of a Mesquite tree as the heat waves boiled up into the shimmering horizon. The other eight were deep in their den under the desert of Southeastern Arizona. The sun would soon drop behind the towering Mount Graham hiding its heat. Then the hunting would begin. The pack was caught in the balance of a desperate struggle for life and death. They did not know that the scales had already been tipped against them by their own need to survive.
It was the second year that the rain had been minimal. The cacti could wait it out. The other plant life could not and would become the first domino of the habitat to fall. Without the grasses and small plants, the rodents and rabbits became domino number two. The coyotes and foxes were domino number three. The coyote, however, has proven itself to be a resilient species with the ability to adapt to a changing environment.
The top of Mount Graham, at 10,500 feet, was a blaze with the last rays of the setting sun. The leader of the pack felt a feverish heat that he usually felt only at noonday. His survival instincts were sharp though his mind was cloudy. The Pack had to travel farther from home to find the small animals that made up the majority of their diet. He would take the pack over the soft hills to the large slow moving animals. Maybe they would get as lucky as the time before. The pack was on edge and the close confines of the den became unbearable. Two of the younger members came out of the den scrambling to avoid a fight.
Southeast a few miles from the packs den and twenty-five miles from Safford was the Sand Dunes Recreation area. Two months previously the pack had carefully moved through the 2000-acre playground for off road vehicles to get to the Bar S Bar cattle ranch. They had looked for the new calves. A cow had attacked them with ferocity instead of the fear that they had expected from these animals. The pack had brought it down and gorged on it.
Mark Winchester slowed down his Dodge truck as they entered Safford.
It was 6:45 P.M. they had been on the road for 3 hours since they had left the Phoenix Metro area where they both lived. Mark pulled into a double space at the Burger King. He got out and checked the tie straps of the trailer holding down the Polaris Quads. The sun set while they were eating. The warm, July, heat greeted them as they got back into the truck. Safford is a small town with only two stoplights on Highway 70, one of the main roads through town. They turned at the second stoplight onto Highway 191 heading South.
Mark and his hunting buddy for the past 25 years, Jason Connors, were out for a little adventure riding ATVs, All Terrain Vehicles, at the Sand Dunes Recreation area. The sand dunes are rolling hills that turn an off road vehicle into a roller coaster.
Twenty minutes later they turned off the pavement onto Tanque road. The dirt road was well maintained and they knew that they would be there soon. They pulled into the empty parking lot. There was a block building housing restrooms and a drinking fountain. Mark started untying the quads. This was only his second visit here and Jason’s first. Mark then drove the quads off the trailer. The sky was overcast and dark on this warm summer evening. The stars and moon were completely covered giving no light to help them prepare for their ride. They used small but powerful Sure-Fire flashlights, that used two, 3-volt lithium batteries, to get the quads ready to go.
Mark had recently bought himself a new Polaris Xplorer 400, a four wheeled ATV or quad runner with a 2-stroke engine. Jason would ride the older Polaris Magnum 325, with a 4-stroke engine.
Mark handed Jason a helmet and some goggles. Jason tried to use his glasses underneath the goggles. It did not work as the goggles pressed the glasses hard against his face in a most uncomfortable way. He could get by with things a little blurry. He reached into his fanny pack to get the hard case for his glasses. He put them into the case and put it back into the pack on top of the 15-round 9mm magazine. He felt the outline of the Glock model 19 inside the inner pouch. He always carried a firearm going out into the desert. The CCW, Concealed Carry Weapon, permit allowed him to discreetly carry his G-19 almost anywhere.
Putting the goggles back on and then the helmet Jason turned to see that Mark was waiting for him. Mark had his Heckler Koch P-13, 9mm pistol, in a holster on his side. Jason swung his leg over the seat of the Polaris Magnum. His thumb pressed the starter button and nothing happened. It had been okay when Mark drove it off the trailer. The battery was now dead.
“Try the kick start”, suggested Mark, “It will charge up while we ride”.
Jason cranked on it. Mark walked around to the left side and verified that the gas valve was on. The fourth kick the engine sputtered again and started. Jason worked the gas lever with his thumb to keep the engine running. Mark jumped back on his quad and they were off. Jason knew that Mark had the more powerful quad but was determined to stay up with him. The rolling hills were covered with trails, around, over and in between them.
They had gone about a mile constantly turning, one way and then and another along the trails. The darkness was complete except for the lights of the quads. The goggles were dirty and sweat was rolling down Jason’s face. The brush and hillsides continued to rush by them as they sped along. It gave Jason the eerie feeling of being in a tunnel or on an amusement ride.
They stopped on top of a hill. They removed their helmets and felt the breeze on their sweaty faces. They looked up but could not see any stars. There were no landmarks visible except some distant lights. They were confused and lost.
“We just have to keep riding”, said Mark. “The Parking lot should be that away”. He was pointing, unknowingly, in a Southern direction while the lot was to the West of their current location.
Mark took off racing ahead in the direction he had pointed. Jason followed in pursuit. It was hard to maintain a bearing as the trails would twist and turn them around rather quickly. Mark was steadily opening the gap between them. Jason punched the gas lever to increase his speed but the engine lugged down instead. He was working the throttle while the quad’s automatic transmission jerked him forward for a few yards and then the engine died.
Mark had gone two hundred yards before he noticed that Jason had stopped. He turned around and went back yelling over the engine noise. “What happened?”
“I don’t know”, said Jason. “I kept giving it gas but it would not go.” Jason pressed the starter button, no good. He stood up, kicked the kick-start and they were off again. They had ridden for an hour without out finding the parking lot.
They had stopped several times trying to figure out where they were without any luck. They seemed to be driving in circles, everything looked the same.
They had seen a dog near the empty parking lot on the way in and had mistaken it for a coyote. The animals before them now were definitely coyotes. Mark gunned his quad leaping ahead of Jason who had been trailing in the rear. They followed them over one little hill driving up into the group of coyotes expecting them to scatter like normal. But these were not normal Coyotes. Like dogs chasing cars, suddenly they were nipping at the tires of the quads. Mark broke to the right going over a small hill breaking out of the pack and Jason followed him. It was too dark for Mark and Jason to know they were being followed. Jason was going down the backside of the next little hill and had that sinking feeling as the 325cc engine of his quad started to lug down again. He worked the throttle but the quad lurched to a stop. Mark continued on without realizing Jason was stalled again. Jason thought he heard a low growl from behind him in the darkness.
He removed his helmet to be able to hear well. He reached into his fanny pack and withdrew the surefire flashlight. Pressing the button the light illuminated the 16 glowing eyes of the pack and two dark forms. Immediately some the eyes blinked out as he saw more of the dark shapes take form while moving to the right and left. He moved the flashlight to verify that they were starting to flank him. He heard the growl again as the one of the Coyotes directly above him on the hill began moving towards him.
“What are they doing?” Jason thought to himself.
Jason could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up as the wave of fear and danger washed over him. His right hand opened the fanny pack and withdrew his G-19. The Trijicon night sites of the Glock glowed with the Tritium inserts.
Jason wondered what had happened to Mark but was afraid to look towards the distant sound of the quad. Swinging the light back and forth 180 degrees he watched the coyotes surrounding him. He saw that one on his left had moved in close. He raised the Glock, centered the three dots on the coyote, using his left arm for support, still holding the light. His finger pressed the trigger engaging the safety lever within it. Boom! The shot shattered the silence. The coyote jumped with the sand geyser that showered him.
“I missed”, shouted Jason within his mind. The coyote growled and kept coming.
Everything turned into slow motion. The coyotes were rushing him from 3 sides but he could not move fast enough to shoot. He got back to the middle group held the sites on another coyote and pressed the trigger again. Boom! This time he heard a yelp as the 124-grain, Federal, Hydro-shock hollow point broke a front leg just above the knee.
Mark heard the first shot and stopped, wondering what Jason was shooting at. He looked back just in time to see the second shot. He was shocked by what he saw. He turned his quad around in time to see a coyote hit Jason with a flying leap, knocking him down from behind. He was over a hundred yards away. He pushed the throttle wide open.
It was the second year that the rain had been minimal. The cacti could wait it out. The other plant life could not and would become the first domino of the habitat to fall. Without the grasses and small plants, the rodents and rabbits became domino number two. The coyotes and foxes were domino number three. The coyote, however, has proven itself to be a resilient species with the ability to adapt to a changing environment.
The top of Mount Graham, at 10,500 feet, was a blaze with the last rays of the setting sun. The leader of the pack felt a feverish heat that he usually felt only at noonday. His survival instincts were sharp though his mind was cloudy. The Pack had to travel farther from home to find the small animals that made up the majority of their diet. He would take the pack over the soft hills to the large slow moving animals. Maybe they would get as lucky as the time before. The pack was on edge and the close confines of the den became unbearable. Two of the younger members came out of the den scrambling to avoid a fight.
Southeast a few miles from the packs den and twenty-five miles from Safford was the Sand Dunes Recreation area. Two months previously the pack had carefully moved through the 2000-acre playground for off road vehicles to get to the Bar S Bar cattle ranch. They had looked for the new calves. A cow had attacked them with ferocity instead of the fear that they had expected from these animals. The pack had brought it down and gorged on it.
Mark Winchester slowed down his Dodge truck as they entered Safford.
It was 6:45 P.M. they had been on the road for 3 hours since they had left the Phoenix Metro area where they both lived. Mark pulled into a double space at the Burger King. He got out and checked the tie straps of the trailer holding down the Polaris Quads. The sun set while they were eating. The warm, July, heat greeted them as they got back into the truck. Safford is a small town with only two stoplights on Highway 70, one of the main roads through town. They turned at the second stoplight onto Highway 191 heading South.
Mark and his hunting buddy for the past 25 years, Jason Connors, were out for a little adventure riding ATVs, All Terrain Vehicles, at the Sand Dunes Recreation area. The sand dunes are rolling hills that turn an off road vehicle into a roller coaster.
Twenty minutes later they turned off the pavement onto Tanque road. The dirt road was well maintained and they knew that they would be there soon. They pulled into the empty parking lot. There was a block building housing restrooms and a drinking fountain. Mark started untying the quads. This was only his second visit here and Jason’s first. Mark then drove the quads off the trailer. The sky was overcast and dark on this warm summer evening. The stars and moon were completely covered giving no light to help them prepare for their ride. They used small but powerful Sure-Fire flashlights, that used two, 3-volt lithium batteries, to get the quads ready to go.
Mark had recently bought himself a new Polaris Xplorer 400, a four wheeled ATV or quad runner with a 2-stroke engine. Jason would ride the older Polaris Magnum 325, with a 4-stroke engine.
Mark handed Jason a helmet and some goggles. Jason tried to use his glasses underneath the goggles. It did not work as the goggles pressed the glasses hard against his face in a most uncomfortable way. He could get by with things a little blurry. He reached into his fanny pack to get the hard case for his glasses. He put them into the case and put it back into the pack on top of the 15-round 9mm magazine. He felt the outline of the Glock model 19 inside the inner pouch. He always carried a firearm going out into the desert. The CCW, Concealed Carry Weapon, permit allowed him to discreetly carry his G-19 almost anywhere.
Putting the goggles back on and then the helmet Jason turned to see that Mark was waiting for him. Mark had his Heckler Koch P-13, 9mm pistol, in a holster on his side. Jason swung his leg over the seat of the Polaris Magnum. His thumb pressed the starter button and nothing happened. It had been okay when Mark drove it off the trailer. The battery was now dead.
“Try the kick start”, suggested Mark, “It will charge up while we ride”.
Jason cranked on it. Mark walked around to the left side and verified that the gas valve was on. The fourth kick the engine sputtered again and started. Jason worked the gas lever with his thumb to keep the engine running. Mark jumped back on his quad and they were off. Jason knew that Mark had the more powerful quad but was determined to stay up with him. The rolling hills were covered with trails, around, over and in between them.
They had gone about a mile constantly turning, one way and then and another along the trails. The darkness was complete except for the lights of the quads. The goggles were dirty and sweat was rolling down Jason’s face. The brush and hillsides continued to rush by them as they sped along. It gave Jason the eerie feeling of being in a tunnel or on an amusement ride.
They stopped on top of a hill. They removed their helmets and felt the breeze on their sweaty faces. They looked up but could not see any stars. There were no landmarks visible except some distant lights. They were confused and lost.
“We just have to keep riding”, said Mark. “The Parking lot should be that away”. He was pointing, unknowingly, in a Southern direction while the lot was to the West of their current location.
Mark took off racing ahead in the direction he had pointed. Jason followed in pursuit. It was hard to maintain a bearing as the trails would twist and turn them around rather quickly. Mark was steadily opening the gap between them. Jason punched the gas lever to increase his speed but the engine lugged down instead. He was working the throttle while the quad’s automatic transmission jerked him forward for a few yards and then the engine died.
Mark had gone two hundred yards before he noticed that Jason had stopped. He turned around and went back yelling over the engine noise. “What happened?”
“I don’t know”, said Jason. “I kept giving it gas but it would not go.” Jason pressed the starter button, no good. He stood up, kicked the kick-start and they were off again. They had ridden for an hour without out finding the parking lot.
They had stopped several times trying to figure out where they were without any luck. They seemed to be driving in circles, everything looked the same.
They had seen a dog near the empty parking lot on the way in and had mistaken it for a coyote. The animals before them now were definitely coyotes. Mark gunned his quad leaping ahead of Jason who had been trailing in the rear. They followed them over one little hill driving up into the group of coyotes expecting them to scatter like normal. But these were not normal Coyotes. Like dogs chasing cars, suddenly they were nipping at the tires of the quads. Mark broke to the right going over a small hill breaking out of the pack and Jason followed him. It was too dark for Mark and Jason to know they were being followed. Jason was going down the backside of the next little hill and had that sinking feeling as the 325cc engine of his quad started to lug down again. He worked the throttle but the quad lurched to a stop. Mark continued on without realizing Jason was stalled again. Jason thought he heard a low growl from behind him in the darkness.
He removed his helmet to be able to hear well. He reached into his fanny pack and withdrew the surefire flashlight. Pressing the button the light illuminated the 16 glowing eyes of the pack and two dark forms. Immediately some the eyes blinked out as he saw more of the dark shapes take form while moving to the right and left. He moved the flashlight to verify that they were starting to flank him. He heard the growl again as the one of the Coyotes directly above him on the hill began moving towards him.
“What are they doing?” Jason thought to himself.
Jason could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up as the wave of fear and danger washed over him. His right hand opened the fanny pack and withdrew his G-19. The Trijicon night sites of the Glock glowed with the Tritium inserts.
Jason wondered what had happened to Mark but was afraid to look towards the distant sound of the quad. Swinging the light back and forth 180 degrees he watched the coyotes surrounding him. He saw that one on his left had moved in close. He raised the Glock, centered the three dots on the coyote, using his left arm for support, still holding the light. His finger pressed the trigger engaging the safety lever within it. Boom! The shot shattered the silence. The coyote jumped with the sand geyser that showered him.
“I missed”, shouted Jason within his mind. The coyote growled and kept coming.
Everything turned into slow motion. The coyotes were rushing him from 3 sides but he could not move fast enough to shoot. He got back to the middle group held the sites on another coyote and pressed the trigger again. Boom! This time he heard a yelp as the 124-grain, Federal, Hydro-shock hollow point broke a front leg just above the knee.
Mark heard the first shot and stopped, wondering what Jason was shooting at. He looked back just in time to see the second shot. He was shocked by what he saw. He turned his quad around in time to see a coyote hit Jason with a flying leap, knocking him down from behind. He was over a hundred yards away. He pushed the throttle wide open.