Ariz. Game And Fish responds to jaguar report

The Arizona Game and Fish Department has responded to a report the Department of Interior's Inspector General issued about the death of Mach0 B, the jaguar that died after being handled by the department.

The department is responding to a redacted report, which leaves many details missing. It's clear, however, the department isn't thrilled with the DOI's involvement when there is already a federal investigation into the death underway.

Read about the response from Outdoor News Daily.

Arizona Game And Fish Responds To IG Report On Jaguar

Column: Safety key when learning to ski

Slope safety

'Let go of the rope,' and other warning ski tales

I'm a walking poster for ski safety and the perfect example of why helmets should be firmly affixed atop all noggins while on the slopes.

So, as we get ready to observe National Safety Awareness Week beginning Saturday through Jan. 22, I share a few reasons I can personally attest that safety is a worthwhile goal on the slopes.

It all started with my first trip to a mountain some 27 years ago.

A herd of us from my junior high advanced (yes, advanced) PE class rode the yellow weenie to Purgatory - now known as Durango Mountain Resort - in southwest Colorado.

A half day of lessons were required before we were turned loose to terrorize other skiers the rest of the day.

I didn't even wait for the ski school to end before I started the destruction.

My first trip on the rope tow should have been reason enough for the instructor to send me back to the bus.

We were half way up the bunny hill when I lost my balance. But instead of falling over and scampering out of the way of other skiers, I held on, trying to regain my balance.

I ended up falling anyway, pulling the rope with me just enough to knock over another dozen skiers as well. They had to stop the rope tow until everybody could collect themselves.

At the top our group instructor just looked at me and shook his head as he said, "that's one I've never seen before."

We spent the rest of the morning mastering the snowplow - or at least trying to. We snowplowed our way down the hill over and over, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't snowplow my way into a stop.

I could turn, and if I turned far enough, I'd end up going uphill, which would bring me to some semblance of a stop, but I couldn't bring myself to a controlled stop without a fall.

The one thing I mastered that first morning on the snow was falling down. I couldn't even get up very well but when it came to falling, I was a master.

I began to use a controlled fall as my own personal method of stopping, despite the instructors constant yelling to turn, turn, turn; pressure on this ski, pressure on that ski, blah, blah, blah.

It would always end up the same.

Fall down, dig skis, pole grips, fingers, everything into the snow until the sliding stopped. Then I had to figure out how to get up.

That worked for the most part until, late in the morning as my confidence grew, I zoomed down the slope - top to bottom without falling - turning back and forth to control my speed.

But then it hit me.

The rope tow line was too close and I didn't have enough room to fall and slide to a stop.

I threw myself down in a panic and slid frantically toward the group of people whose eyes grew wider as they tried to scramble out of the way.

I went into the crowd like a bowling ball and pins exploded in an array of skis, poles, goggles and who knows how many body parts.

I've heard it described as a yard sale on the snow.

It took five minutes for people to gather their gear as people traded poles looking for a matched set.

I was done for the morning.

Through a combination of shame, peer pressure and a little bit of a formal recommendation from my instructor, I slunk off toward lunch.

The second half of the day went much smoother.

An experienced skiing friend took a handful of us to the top and pointed down. "Let's go," he said, and took off down the slope.

He kept us on green and easy blue runs, but it was still a little more difficult than the bunny slope on which we had been.

The "tough love" ski lesson worked. Soon, we were all making clean runs - except when it came time to stop and I slid toward my friends who would scramble out of the way while hurling insults.

Still, I was in relative control, maintaining my speed and changing direction as necessary. I even began to keep my skis parallel for stretches, snowplowing only when necessary.

But I still couldn't stop.

That became an issue when we tackled a more difficult intermediate trail and I found myself skiing back and forth across the run to control my speed.

However, in one area I started going too fast and hit an ice spot.

I tried to turn, but my skis chattered across the ice.

Panicked, I threw myself down into an "emergency stop" slide, but I just kept sliding downhill toward the trees at the edge of the run.

When I hit the powder at the side of the trail, my body flipped around and I went into a tree backwards.

My upper body thumped against the tree as my butt settled deep into the tree well.

My feet - with skis still attached - were in front of me and about head high. I couldn't move.

I had hung on to my poles during the train wreck, but they were of little use.

I tried rolling over, but the depth of the powder and the fact I was wedged against the tree, kept me from being able to wiggle into a position to get up.

Because I was always the last in the group - so I would know where to slide to a stop - my friends were long gone and nobody else was coming by.

And because I was buried in the powder and the branches of the tree hung nearly to the top of the snow, I doubt I could be seen.

I must have sat under that tree for nearly a half an hour before I was able to use my ski poles to release my ski bindings and free my feet.

I tossed my skis out onto the trail and was able to finally wiggle myself into a position to crawl out of the hole and back into the daylight.

Fortunately, eventually, I learned how to stop and slowly taught myself to ski with some measure of skill and style. Well, skill, anyway.

Darren Marcy is a local outdoor enthusiast. Contact him through his Web site at www.DarrenMarcyOutdoors.com.

There's an app for that

Audubon has release iPhone and iPod Touch apps featuring the Birds of New England.

Read here for more details.

A funny FTC disclosure

The Federal Trade Commission has decided you're too stupid to know when someone is blowing smoke up your backside. They're worried that bloggers, tweeters, Facebook friends and others might mislead you about a product endorsement without revealing whether or not they have been compensated or received incentive to say nice things about the product.

If you're a blogger running a small site without a ton of traffic, and little to no income, you might be tempted to say, "so what." But the FTC, like other government agencies without enough to do, has put some teeth into the law. Big teeth.

So most bloggers and other social media types are trying to take the new law seriously and comply.

One outdoor company, Deneki Outdoors, decided to have a little fun with its FTC compliance disclosure and I think they've done a great job with it.

Read Deneki Outdoors' FTC disclosure here.

Official: Largemouth bass ties record

It's official, the 22-pound, 4-ounce largemouth bass caught on Lake Biwa in Japan has tied the record for the the biggest bass ever caught.

Manabu Kurita caught the monster on 25-pound test line with a blue gill July 2.

Six months later, on Jan. 8, the record was confirmed by The International Game Fish Association.

Kurita's fish ties the record that George Perry set on Montgomery Lake in Georgia June 2, 1932.

Jaguar decision expected from feds

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is expected to issue a decision soon on whether to develop a recovery plan for the jaguar in the Southwest.

The feds are bound by a court order to issue a decision on managing jaguars and the case is seen as a test by conservationists as to whether the government will work to protect a species that ranges across United State's borders.

The big cats range is primarily south of New Mexico and Arizona into Mexico and Central and South America. They once ranged into Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California.

Once believed to be extirpated in the United States, a hunter running mountain lions in New Mexico treed a jaguar and took photos of the big cat. That spurred a study that has resulted in two cats being identified.

One of the cats, Macho B, was captured in a snare in southern Arizona, but died shortly after being tranquilized.

The Outdoors World Loses a Legend

The Outdoors World Loses a Legend in Charlie Meyers Field & Stream

I ran across this Field & Stream notice this morning about the death of Charlie Meyers, longtime outdoor writer at the Denver Post.

The outdoor writing world is missing a little piece of itself this morning.

Reporter fired for questioning Vail's snow total ethics

Some of you might remember a story about a Dartmouth College study on how snow totals reported by ski areas don't always jive with snowfall totals reported at nearby weather stations.

Of course the ski areas defended their accuracy and denied stretching the truth, err, snow.
Still, it was something many people think probably happens -- at least to some extent -- at most resorts.

So, I found it interesting to find this article about a reporter in Colorado that was fired for what he claims was writing a column calling a major resort -- Vail -- on the carpet for what he perceived as misleading claims about snow.

You can read the article here.

New Blog Site

I have launched my new outdoor writing and photography blog site.

Check it out at: darrenmarcyoutdoors.typepad.com.

You can also take a look at my Outdoors Vermont blog at rutlandherald.typepad.com/outdoorsvermont

I'll still be posting things here about outdoor writing and photography and the general outdoors.

Don't forget my new Web site address at www.DarrenMarcyOutdoors.com.

New Year's Column

Check out my New Year's column.

At some of the worst moments in my life, it was the outdoors that helped me hold it all together. And during some of the best points in my life, it is the memories of the outdoors that really stand out as being among the best.

Read the column here.