By John A. Byers
This e-book takes you either the place you predict and do not count on to head, yet you will adore the adventure! i've got a more robust realizing and appreciation for pronghorn and their Montana atmosphere. There are complexities that I had by no means totally thought of. My due to John Byers for an relaxing event!
Read Online or Download Built for Speed: A Year in the Life of Pronghorn PDF
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Additional info for Built for Speed: A Year in the Life of Pronghorn
If I am uphill from the fawn, I can simply leap into the air and land beside it. (That is how I caught the 17-day-old monster fawn that delivered powerful kicks to my groin. ) If we are on flat ground, I simply fall forward in layout position. In either case, as I fall next to the fawn, I am reaching for a secure handhold—I will have only an instant to find one. Sometimes an old fawn turns to look at me as I am falling, and manages to get to its feet and leap away. I crash to the ground and watch the little tan rump bob- 39 40 SPRING AND THE SOUNDS OF SNIPE bing away at high speed while ticks merrily jump onto me from the grass where I am lying.
For pronghorn, able to work the running muscles hard for long runs, the heat built up can be dangerous, especially to the brain. Pronghorn and some other mammals are able to keep the brain cooler than the body. The heat pollution produced by exercising muscles is rapidly transferred to blood. Pronghorn cool this over-hot blood on its way to the brain with a heat exchanger. The major artery to the brain branches suddenly into a network of tiny channels. A similarly intricate network of tiny veins surrounds each channel.
The Baja highway had just been paved, and ours was the only car on the road most of the time. At Bahia de Los Angeles, we camped in Bucky on the shingle at the water’s edge and were awakened by the breathing sounds of whales that echoed off cliffs across the bay. In Cabo San Lucas, then a dusty, out-of-the-way place, we put Bucky on the ferry for Puerto Vallarta. Soon thereafter, I spent two days lying in Bucky’s bed, delirious with Montezuma’s revenge. In Guadalajara, Bucky was by far the smallest and shabbiest of the American rigs in the RV park where we stayed.