Back from Bunkerville – Back from the Brink – My Report from the Front Lines

I spent Saturday April 12, 2014, at the Bundy Ranch near Bunkerville, Nevada and was present for what may one day be remembered as a turning point in this nation’s history – the day the U.S. Government blinked.

The day was so emotion filled that I hardly know where to begin so I will begin at the beginning of my journey in what I am certain will be a futile effort to convey all that I saw and felt.

I had planned to head out at around day break but was delayed by some personal / domestic / logistical issues so I did not hit the road until late morning. I am a disabled Vietnam Combat Veteran and ride a seven year old “rice-burner” because I like a water cooled engine in the Mojave Desert. My bike could be a rolling advertisement for “Hire The Handicapped” campaign because it is equipped with devices like a manual cruise control because my hands don’t work well thanks to Agent Orange and a scabbard for my cane because of other “gifts” from my time in service.

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I fueled up on Sahara Blvd just before I headed north on U.S. 15 towards Mesquite and Bunkerville.  As I rode alone in the warm mid-day sun, I was lost in solitary thought; asking questions of myself. Why was I making this journey? What good could a damn near crippled old veteran like myself do if things got messy? And why had I decided at the last minute to go unarmed? And many more equally nonsensical thoughts.

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And I had the answers before I asked the questions. I was making the journey because I had no choice. Once upon a time I took an oath. I have long since hung up the uniform but never sought a way to hang up the oath. An American Patriot, Cliven Bundy, and his family were taking a stand against a “Domestic Enemy” – the U.S. Government – and I had no choice but to be true to my oath accordingly.

I may be old and nowhere near as nimble as I once was, but most of my military acquired skills are still functional. And as any combat vet can tell you, in any fire fight there are always extra weapons floating about.

Highway 15 is under construction for many miles and traffic was extraordinarily slow. I saw a number of cars turn around and head back to Las Vegas and each time I kept thinking: “Tourists” – and I will leave the rest of that thought to you readers.

But finally the 112 exit to state route 170 did appear, and I was encouraged by the number of vehicles that exited here. I was aware when I left home in the morning that the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) had ordered a “No Fly Zone” over the Bundy Ranch on the previous evening.  And I had seen reports that the cell phone towers around the Bundy Ranch had been shut down for some period of time earlier in the day. These things left me uneasy but undeterred.

The first thing any tyrant does when they are about to commit atrocities is to shut down all communications.

I was on the ground in Iran during the Islamic Revolution of 1979. I saw that revolution rise from a rumble to a roar and from people being assaulted to people being shot in the streets and the Bundy Ranch standoff had all the earmarks. But I pressed on, listening to the rumble of my lone exhaust and wondering if there was a much deeper rumble lost in the hills.

The Bundy Ranch sits down between some ridges along the Virgin River south of Mesquite Nevada. The 112 exit off U.S. 15 is a steady down hill for a short way and then turns up hill before descending to the valley floor and the Bundy Ranch. As I approached the rise south of the Bundy Ranch, I could not help but to notice what was obviously a group of militia that had set up on the high ground overlooking the Bundy Ranch and all approaches thereto. My heart swelled with pride.

Personally, I think the very presence of the militia had a great deal to do with the temporary resolution that ended the standoff; at least for the moment.

As I started down towards the floor of the valley, there was a large collection of people on the west side of the road amongst a couple of canopies and a stage with sound equipment, so I pulled over and stopped there.

As I wondered into the gathered crowd of people, I met up with some old friends and made some new friends in a very short period of time. And one of those “new friends” was a daughter of the Bundy clan who looked to be in her late teens.

She was passing through the crowd and thanking people for their support. When she approached me, the first thing she did was to acknowledge my “Vietnam Veteran” hat and patches on my vest and thanked me for my service to my country.

I was immediately overcome with such emotion that I was damned near to the point of tears.

SHE was thanking me for my service to country?

I immediately corrected her and told her that from where I stood, it was she and her whole family who were rendering the greater service to our country than I or my comrades in arms ever could.

There were people from all around the local areas of Nevada, Utah, Arizona, and California. And there was one fellow biker who had driven two days from Oklahoma City to be present when the situation dissolved. And I met a nice young fellow who introduced himself as the son-in-law of John Wayne whose conversation I enjoyed greatly. He is in the movie industry and assured me that there are more than two thousand constitutional conservatives currently active in Holly-Weird where I once worked.

One thing that impressed me was the presence of the militias. They were dispersed throughout the crowd, easily identifiable (almost as easily as were the DHS plants), and armed – some more heavily than others. I think what impressed me most about the militias was the character of all those that I met and spoke with; down to earth, rational, blue color working folks who universally hoped that they would not be called upon, but were quietly prepared to face whatever course of action the government chose to pursue.  These people were not ancient old war horses like myself, but younger people – men and women – ranging from what appeared to be late teens possibly up to their mid to late thirties. The younger generations; the hope for a future for our country.

There was great excitement and joy when it was announced that the BLM had agreed to release the Bundy cattle. When Cliven Bundy made the announcement, he invited everyone to walk with him down to the river to welcome the cattle home. I stayed until we could see the Bundy cowboys round the bend in the river guiding the cattle home. And then it was time for me to head back down to Lovely Las Vegas; night driving – especially on my bike – is hazardous for me.

After Action Analysis:

As this situation began to evolve, I felt the same trends and tremors that led up to the revolution in Iran while I was there, and I prayed against all odds that it would not be someone on our side of the issue who committed the ultimate stupidity and fired the first shot. God was with us, and that did not happen.

I thank the militia, Fox News and the social media for keeping that from happening. As is always the case, only Fox News covered the situation once it became a standoff. Fox News brought the matter to the public who responded, and it was probably the on-the-ground presence of Fox News that caused the “No Fly” edict from the FAA.

It was the social media that launched massive searches that tied this land grab to the shirt tails of Whore House Harry Reid and his sucklings. And that alone, most likely played a significant part in the decision of the government to back off for the moment.

When I approached the area and saw that convoy of vehicles from the Clark County Detention Center, which had passed me at high speed with flashing lights a short while earlier, I understood that they were preparing to take a considerable number of prisoners should the situation arise.

When I saw the militia on the high ground above the Bundy Ranch, I was encouraged that there would be no “sneak attack” by the forces of evil and those who were unarmed near the ranch would have some few moments to seek cover should the need arise.

When I entered the crowd and the demonstration site, I was encouraged, amused and disappointed.

I was encouraged by the fact that so many people had come from so far away to support the Bundy family in their righteous struggle. I was amused at the awkwardness of the “plants” from either the BLM and/or the DHS and/or the Clark County constabulary. Those guys just never seem to integrate smoothly with folks like us. 

And I was disappointed.

  • I was disappointed that there was not a better showing of the Oath Keepers.
  • I am a member of that organization, but I did not attend as a member of anything other than a group of one American Patriot; me, myself, and I.
  • I was especially disappointed in that the Oath Keeper leadership issued a call for all Oath Keeper Bikers to roll out in support of the Bundy family.
    One Oath Keeper Biker did…from Oklahoma City.

When I got back last night, I got an email from someone inside the militia group(s) that were there. I cannot publish that email in its entirety, but there is one part that I think is of significance:

There were in excess of 1,000 BLM/DHS hands on the ground. We also targeted three from Kraft ( with the skulls on their baseball caps. One of my guys got close enough to an 18 wheeler to see several Mini-Guns inside and an ass load of cases of ammo & AR-15’s.

I have no reason to doubt what these people claim to have seen and if I am not mistaken, I know exactly which 18 wheeler they are referring to.

Intel has been flowing in all day. There is probably more supposition than fact floating around out there right now, and I try to follow standard protocols to validate everything that I can. This I do know: The Bundy Ranch Standoff is far from over.

The Government has temporarily stepped back from the brink – but only long enough to develop a new and more violent battle plan.

I know with absolute certainty that were it not for the militia, the demonstrators, and Fox News, this standoff would be over and Whore House Harry Reid and his sucklings would be once again nursing on the carcass of American freedom.

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