Mike Doe
I will miss Scott. I first met Scott in SARA. In the late 1970' and early 80's, we did a fair share of missions together, often in the middle of the night, hiking up a canyon rich with smells unique to the southwest, and for a variety of reasons.....the usual. More recently, we were on bat research trips with Bob and Debbie Buecher. We would wander through the desert night, tracking beacon-tagged bats. Or humping gear and ropes up a southern Arizona mountain range to change out data loggers in a cave. I recall a trip we did a couple years ago. It was north of Roswell, New Mexico. We found ourselves camping on flat, treeless land of gypsum karst, in freezing temps, with the typical (it seems for southeastern New Mexico) hurricane-like winds. Scotty had planned to toss a pad and sleeping bag on the ground and realized he would be in for a miserable night. So I offered to share the camper on my truck. This sounds nice except the sleeping space, in caving terms, is a "crawlway". I barely fit. But somehow, encouraged by the deteriorating weather, we managed to wedge ourselves into what little space there was. We didn't dare to open the camper windows (actually doors) for fear they would get torn off in one of the many, truck-rocking, wind gusts. Suffice it to say, we were able to get reasonable sleep, in spite of the low air flow and two, slightly gassy, old guys.
I will sincerely and dearly, miss Scott. He was a thread in a tightly woven part of my life.
I smile when I say this: "I'll see you later Scott."
Mike Doe
