Capturing a Vole

Voles are small, burrowing rodents known for creating intricate tunnel systems, or "runners," beneath the thatch of grasslands and gardens. These runners provide them with a safe haven from predators and a network for foraging. Voles primarily feed on a diet of grasses, roots, seeds, and bark, and they are particularly fond of tender plant shoots. Some people call them meadow or field mice. Voles do not hibernate and are active day and night throughout the year, even under the snow in the winter months. They are found throughout Montana. Unfortunately, they found just what they like in a modest flower garden we have just off our back deck.

To catch the voles, I recently purchased a live trap and set it among the plants in the garden, baited with chunks of walnuts. After first catching three mice in the trap, I finally caught a vole. Although similar to mice, voles are dark brown, fuller-bodied, and have a much shorter, fuzzy tail. Their round head, beady eyes, and tiny ears are also more typical of a hamster than a mouse.

After capturing the vole, I took it for a ride in my car (something it did not enjoy, as indicated by the way the critter ping-ponged about in the trap) and then released it in a gulley about a mile from my house. I have posted a photograph of the vole I trapped.

Trapped Vole

—Mitchell Hegman

The Bridge Test

You don’t want to fail the bridge test. The test is not complicated. To pass the test, you simply need to cross over a bridge without causing it to collapse. Yesterday, I wanted a septic pumping truck to pass the bridge test because it was crossing the bridge on my cabin property.

A typical septic system should be pumped every 3 to 5 years, depending on usage. My cabin septic system sees very sporadic use and has never been pumped to clear the sludge that collects at the bottom of the septic tank.

Septic pumping trucks are heavy. A rig with a fully loaded tank may weigh up to 30,000 pounds. By comparison, my truck (the heaviest vehicle regularly crossing the bridge) weighs something near 4,000 pounds.

The bridge is of wood construction and is subject to natural deterioration. For example, I had to replace the decking material in 2018. Given the weight of the septic rig, I felt mild concern about the truck crossing the bridge. Before crossing on the way onto my property, I had the driver inspect the bridge for his own sake. “This is a real structure,” the driver said. “I am comfortable with crossing.”

Thankfully, the septic truck passed the bridge test in both directions, as proved by the photographs I am sharing today.

The Septic Pumping Truck at Work

Crossing the Bridge on the Way Out

—Mitchell Hegman

Clearing the Road

Cabins, boats, campers, and all-terrain vehicles all have one thing in common: regular maintenance of one form or another is required. You have to “pay to play,” as the adage goes.

One of the maintenance issues at our cabin is keeping the primitive road clear for travel. This entails mowing the grass (and, sadly, wildflowers) that readily grow in the narrow mountain valley. On a less regular basis, the trees that have volunteered alongside the road must be trimmed to allow the free passage of vehicles. At this point, some of the trees are holding hands above the roadway.

Yesterday, Desiree took to the trees with a pair of nippers and a bow saw. This is hard work, but Desiree loves anything to do with plants or trees. By the time she was finished, I had a truck filled high with branches from the pine, fir, and willows attending the cabin road.

I am sharing three photographs from the day.

Desiree Cutting the Willows

Desiree With Trimmed Branches

Looking Across the Bridge

—Mitchell Hegman

Getting There

People who say that half the fun of going somewhere is getting there have likely not flown economy class from the middle of Montana to the Philippines.

—Mitchell Hegman

A Perfect Moment

Sleeping, my wife is impossibly beautiful. Her arms, which are rivers in her waking hours, have entirely becalmed. Even at rest, that natural smile of hers graces her face. I stand over her for a few moments, watching the wan light of predawn play softly upon her closed eyes and cheeks. It has taken eons to reach this exact point of this morning, but it was worth it.

—Mitchell Hegman

A Rock of Known Value

Generally speaking, I think I love rocks more than the next guy. I started collecting rocks as soon as I could clutch my hands, and I have been collecting ever since. Just yesterday, I picked up a thirty-dollar rock. Well, technically, the tire of my car picked up the rock.

For a rock to be properly and permanently collected by the tire of your car, it needs to fully penetrate the tire, which this rock did. In piercing the tire, the rock began a slow process of deflating the tire in question. Fortunately, I made it to the nearest tire shop before the tire went entirely flat. Thirty dollars later, I left with a repaired tire and a rock in my hand. Though the rock is neither pretty nor unique, I will be adding it to my collection as a matter of principle.

My Thirty-Dollar Rock

Proof of Value

—Mitchell Hegman

The Survivalist in Me

If you have read my blog for any length of time, you are aware that I am a fan of the reality program Naked and Afraid. Survivalists on this show are released into the wild naked with only one personal survival item. Typically, a pair of survivalists is given a fire starter and a pot. They are then allowed to supplement with a personal item. A hatchet, knife, or machete is the first logical choice granted to one participant. The second survivalist might add paracord, mosquito netting, a bow and set of arrows, or fish hooks and line. I have even seen duct tape carried by a survivalist.

Desiree and I are always teasing each other about how long we might survive in the jungle or desert if plunked out there naked. “I think I have a good hour or so in me,” I told Desiree the other day. “But in order for me to survive long-term, the producers will need to place me someplace where root beer float trees grow.”

PHOTO: Discovery Channel

—Mitchell Hegman