THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 185 



OVER THE STIENS ON A DESERT GREYHOUND 



By Warden F. W. Triska. 



The writer, accompanied by Miles A. Brecount, of Burns, had what 

 was considered a novel experience recently — a trip over the Stien 

 Mountains on two Harley Davidson motorcycles. This narrative might 

 possibly appeal more forcibly to the readers of the Sportsman if 

 they were acquainted with the country we passed through, this being 

 the first time that the feat was ever accomplished by other than a 

 saddle horse. 



We left Burns on August 14th for the Narrows, arriving there at 

 8:45 p. m., after traveling a distance of thirty miles. We were up at 

 5 o'clock the next morning and, strapping our guns to the motorcycles, 

 were off for the Grain Camp, one of the Hanley ranches, some twenty- 

 two miles distant, for breakfast. We traveled the Canal Road, which is 

 a highway constructed on the banks of a canal some thirty miles long 

 running along the Blitzen River. We reached Grain Camp at about 

 7 o'clock, a trifle late for breakfast, and had to be content with a light 

 repast. This was hard on two young men gifted with healthy appetit s. 

 Our next stop was at the P Ranch, eighteen miles distant, where we 

 sat down to a "buckaroo dinner," to which we did ample justice. After 

 looking over our "Greyhounds," and taking some good-natured gaff 

 from the boys at the ranch, we left for Home Creek, also one of the 

 Hanley ranches, located about twenty-five miles south of the P Ranch 

 on, the east side of Catlow Valley and with an elevation of 9800 feet. 

 We then went to Three Mile Ranch and inquired about the road to 

 Smith's Flat, a lower plateau of the Stien Mountains. After obtaining 

 the necessary information, we set out for Milton Modie's Camp, distant 

 twelve miles, the road being nothing but a mere horse trail. It was 

 here that our .real experiences began. 



My motor lights being out before we reached Modie's Camp, I 

 had to be guided by the rear light on "Count's" cycle. We were getting 

 along famously, however, when within a mile of the camp the lights 

 in the windows began to show up and I undertook to "cut across coun- 

 try" and beat "Count" into camp. I was rapidly nearing the lights and 

 going at a fairly good rate of speed, when I ran into a washout caused 

 by a cloudburst. I did not stop for the washout, but kept right on 

 going. The motorcycle did, however. After gathering myself together 

 and abstracting the motorcycle from the ditch, I towed the machine 

 into camp and found "Count" enjoying a dish of cold rice. He in- 

 formed me that he never knew rice tasted so good before. Making the 

 raise of a blanket from a trapper who was stationed at the camp, we 

 turned in, sleeping so sound that had not Mr. Modie awakened us 

 and told us it was raining we would never have known it. It had 

 been raining an hour when we were aw r akened. We moved under the 

 cook tent and slept until the breakfast bell rang. After eating a hearty 

 breakfast, we went out and shot some sage hens, which are very plen- 

 tiful in that locality. 



The Stien Mountain Reserve line being only about three miles dis- 

 tant, we concluded we wanted a deer, so leaving our motorcycles and 

 chartering two saddle horses, we lit out for the east rim of the moun- 

 tain across the divide. The elevation here was about 8000 feet. Sta- 

 tioning our horses here we descended about 1200 feet over an almost 

 perpendicular rim, at the bottom of which I saw the ears of a coyote 

 and "blazed away," hitting him in the hind quarters. I was a little in 



