rhys jones

rhys jones 8 hours, 13 minutes ago on Operation Round Up transitioning to "opt out" program

You're right Mark. I thought Pat's comment was facetious, as if the Lord would sanction theft like our government does.


rhys jones 2 days, 8 hours ago on Jim Webster: Resistance to change

"If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition and then admit that we just don't want to do it." -- Stephen Colbert


rhys jones 2 days, 11 hours ago on 1 dead in rollover on Colorado Highway 13 north of Craig

Just hit the damn deer. The attempt to avoid can be more dangerous than the deer. Five deer and one elk have expired at my bumpers -- yet here I sit. The elk came through the windshield of my new (to me) Subaru, even hitting my face -- but the car kept rolling, straight down the highway, which I could see again, once I tore out a hunk of shattered windshield. If I would have tried to avoid him by swerving, results could have been much worse. Forgive me for giving little thought to the elk carcass at this point; my car was trashed, I was bleeding, and I was just glad to still be rolling toward help.

I had just bought the car, and hadn't installed deer whistles yet. I've seen those work, on numerous occasions, chasing away wildlife, or freezing them in their tracks -- and not just deer and elk, but snowshoe hares, foxes, and mountain lions (one) I've even seen horses' ears twitch, as they took off, once the sound swept by them. I have yet to see a bear in the road; I guess it happens, but they're too smart, as a rule.

Deer whistles are my first addition to any car I get, but even they are not perfect -- they might not work around corners, over hilltops, if obstructed, or if the animal is looking the other way. You shoulda heard me, last time up from Wolcott, late at night -- I was blowing my regular horn every 200 yards, in known or suspected deer areas, just to get 'em looking my way, where they would hear the deer whistles. Musta worked. Didn't see anything. I kept it down around houses.

The little interim Civic I recently got scared me, this side of Yampa, headed south, straight stretch going 65, out steps a deer into my lane, who stops -- I swerved into the other lane to avoid, approaching car still a half-mile away -- a scary maneuver, in that little car -- it swayed horribly, making me think it might roll; a rapid correction was necessary -- but the deer stayed in place, which I credit to the whistles, as I sailed by in the other lane.

I need a grant writer, to promote a pet project I've had for years to the Feds: I want to evolve a breed of deer born with reflectors in their sides.

Until that happens, deer whistles and a little common sense are your best friends on the highway.


rhys jones 3 days, 8 hours ago on The Record for Saturday, Nov. 21, 2015

You're gonna love 'er, Tim. She (or he) hasn't earned a name -- nothing seems fitting, yet. I thought Prissy (God rest her soul) was the ride to die for, never knew it could be that good -- and this is easily three times the car, at least. I made a mistake -- it's actually TOO good -- and now I've got to take care of it. I washed it just now, and saw a nick or two I never had before -- whether I hadn't noticed them, or they're new, I'm not sure, but they hurt, and every new one will.

The visual appeal might be lost on you, Tim, but the sound sure won't. She can sound like a kitten purring, or a lion roaring -- and when cruising I-70 at 90, sounds strangely like the jet I flew down to get her on.

And then there's the G's. She's lithe as a cat too, very precise handling, yet smoother than Prissy. Quicker off the line, much higher top end... even the brakes are way better, though I try to avoid those as much as possible.

I got lucky on this deal. A week either way and I would have missed it. And it was the result of a mistake ("He took your offer. I got that car for you!!" "What? I didn't want that car!!" [this guy collected Porsches, Ferrari's, and Maserati's] "Oh shit -- I need my money back now; my dog needs an operation").

All summer, I thought I was God's vodoo doll, always the victim, now I lost Prissy, love of my life (sorry Carol, Rebecca, and Linda, but where are ya now?) plus it hurt too, and for four months I was freaking, chasing it every day, hating every delay, getting nasty with the adjuster, saying (or writing) stuff no lawyer would, wondering when the nightmare would end, would I have to sue the bastards... I'm sure my tension came off in my comments, and I hereby apologize to anybody I might have offended (ahem)... anyway, the Big Guy finally came through, and took out the pins. Praise the Lord and Hallelujah!!

We're gonna go out for a trot in a few. If I see ya poking around, I'll offer you some fun. Or ring my name; I'm not too busy yet.


rhys jones 3 days, 21 hours ago on The Record for Saturday, Nov. 21, 2015

You shoulda seen the cop charge up on me, at 60 MPH (his speed), at the apex of the tightest curve on River Road, I thought he was gonna ram me -- causing me to vary slightly, over the center line, as I assessed this new threat -- and providing him probable cause, for the series of lies that followed, Court-sustained -- why I hadn't driven for eight years hence, and why I won't do nuthin wrong now. Their plan worked. I don't own the roads like I thought I did. They belong to the deer. Anybody wanna take a ride? Have a pretty blue car...


rhys jones 1 week, 3 days ago on Wildlife officials report some progress on bear issue but challenges remain

My mad mama only had one cub, so she's still out there. Bill is right -- they were feasting on poorly-secured garbage just a few doors down. So my neighbors almost got me hurt. You can't blame the bears for being bears. Whoever you are, please secure your garbage. I'm getting bear-shy.


rhys jones 1 week, 5 days ago on Colbert: The loneliness of snowboarding

Yeah Bret, you've got me figured out. All I can say is, I keep the Ski Corp job -- not for the money, I could do better -- and not for the pretty girls, relegated to dreaming there, at my apparently-advanced age -- and not for the ski pass; those can be bought -- but for the locker at the gondie building: I am SO SICK of lugging that crap around. I can get off the hill and dressed for Saturday night, in one motion, no other stops necessary -- no clump-clump for me. I hate to waste energy anywhere unnecessarily, saving it up for precise edging, angulation, G-forces, the rush of speed. No rules up there, except don't hit anybody.

Likewise the Porsche (this week, looks like). I have to wonder if my subconscious motives don't include impressing the fairer gender, hoping to inject a spark into the dormant love life. But I really don't think that's the case. I'd need a facelift, makeover, wardrobe, and bank account to go along with it. Then wear a T-shirt around, says "I own a Porsche" 'cause how would they know otherwise? Naw, that's not it. That car won't make me anybody I'm not already.

I can't describe, the pure elation of a Porsche in the curves, the precision, you can feel every pebble, in a good way; the car drives like it's on rails, NO sway -- I didn't even approach Prissy's limits, before she died an untimely death. The Honda I bought in the interim is okay, fun to drive I guess, a little wimpy, and in an emergency situation, such as a sudden deer at highway speeds, has a scary roll, or sway; one gets the feeling, it doesn't have much more. THAT'S when I really miss Prissy.

The fun doesn't even start until I hit the city limits. Then time and the miles melt away, me in my third or fourth childhood, playing with speed and G-forces again -- and the last thing I need, at such times, is an occupant of my passenger seat screaming "SLOW DOWN!!" I arrive at my destination more refreshed than when I left, even 600 miles away.

Ya got yer Staties and County Mounties out there, ya got snowboarders up there, and I try to stay well clear of all of them. But thanks for chipping in, Bret!! I thought I was due for a "you gotta avoid the downhill person" lecture.