D-Day: War's over, man. Wormer dropped the big one.
Bluto: Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Otter: Germans?
Boon: Forget it, he's rolling.
Bluto: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... [thinks hard]
Bluto: the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go! [runs out, alone; then returns]
Bluto: What the fuck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh? "Ooh, we're afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble." Well just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I'm not gonna take this. Wormer, he's a dead man! Marmalard, dead! Niedermeyer...
Otter: Dead! Bluto's right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part.
Bluto: We're just the guys to do it.
D-Day: Let's do it.
Bluto: LET'S DO IT!

Day Twenty Three. Part I

This is the story of day 23. A sad day in the HOY7 hunting team world. With great promise, but also a certain ammount of trepidation, the two founding members of the HOY7 hunting team set out to get in some final duck slaying of the year. It was bitter cold and windy on the mighty Columbia River that morning. A layer of ice formed a ring around the water and the wind driven waves had created an icy froth that looked like snowbanks on the early morning shoreline. A full moon lit up the sky and an unusualy clear ceiling allowed us to go about the business of setting up for the day without artificial light. Fred G rebulit the blind that mother nature had broken down in the past days and I set the blocks, a morning ritual that had become as steady as the rise and fall of the tides.
After I had laid down the last block I realized what an artistic photo opportunity was in front of me so I carefully removed our trusty Olympus camera from my pocket, wraped the safety string arround my gloved hand and found the right angle for the shot. A full moon backing our decoy spread and the icy shore was going to be the right look so I removed my glove in order to operate the controls. I like to believe the sound was like a "blooonk" but it could have been a "psssssht" just as eaisily. Either way the camera was now 2 feet down in the cloudy churning waters of the Columbia. "Help" I yelled, and my trusty hunting partner came running from his morning duties. I handed him my jacket and rolled up my sleeves as far as they would go. Droping my hand into the nearly freezing waters was a shock at first but I knew that this particular model of Olympus camera could take some exposure to the bottom. I swept back and forth as long as my tollerance would allow time and time again untill my arm had turned a chilly red. It was at that moment that I realized the photos for the last day of hunting had come to an end.
I'd like to believe that this is the view our camera is now getting. Or perhaps the beavers are using it as decoration inside their loggy palace. Or, Heston willing, that some other person found it as the water cleared and enjoyed all the historical photos of the H7HTs' season contained within. At any rate, this will be the last picture for a while. Stay tuned for part II of the last day of hunting: Lunch.
GBCH

Go Giants!!!

PLEASE CLICK ON THIS LINK ABOVE. FOR HESTONS' SAKE.

Day Twenty Two

Or as we like to call it "Killin' for the King". Being as close to MLK day as we could get Sunday hunting was in the mix. Also in the mix was long time H7HT member Andy "Cliffy" V. Being a Sunday we all had the chance to sample the goods at what has come to be known as the Old Old New spot. We set out extra early to take the long walk so no other hunters would crowd us in our quest for the best spot. The same spread from day 21 was used and the blind was improved to accommodate the presence of Mr. 357 magnum.

I'd like to tell you that we all slayed like on day21 but it was just not happening that day. Sometimes all you get is the fine conversation and camaraderie that comes with hunting. We left a little early due to the serious 'lack of things', ducks for example, and headed home for stage two of our day. Stage two turned out to be much better as we watched the New York Football GIANTS try to lose to the Packers of Green Bay.

Andy did kill something after all. This is the plate of delicious chicken wings he demolished. Turns out he needed the energy for his Bionic hip surgery scheduled for today. Good luck Cliffy, try not to pollute the operating room too much and ask for a wheelchair so we can use the ADA blind at Sauvies.

GBCH.

Five Duck Taco

5 Ducks cleaned and back bones removed:
1 Drake Mallard
1 Hen Mallard
2 Drake Ring Neck
1 Gadwell

2 each red and yellow peppers seeded and chopped
5 habanero peppers seeded and minced
3 dried thai chili peppers
2 onions chopped
4 tablespoons minced garlic
1 vanilla bean scraped
10 ounces cranberry preserves
4 ounces mexican bitter-sweet chocolate
2 cups coffee
1/2 cup raspberry vinegar
3 cups stale bread torn up
4 cups chicken stock

In a large dutch oven brown duck on both sides. Remove and add peppers, onions and garlic and cook until slightly caramelized. Add remaining ingredients and cover. Simmer for 2 hours or until very tender, sauce should be thick if not remove duck and continue to simmer until thick. Cool, then pull meat from bones and shred then add back to pepper mixture. Serve over rice or with flour tortillas.

New Old Spot

Circa 2003

A beautiful sunrise to a perfect day

I was right! (Or, Day Twenty One)

I was right! I did shoot me a nice fat greenie today*!









*Problem is that my hunting partner Fred G also shot a greenie today. Before I did. Along with 4 other ducks. Damn.

So, today was day 21 and the season is quickly drawing to a close. We left at 5:30 for the old old spot and on the way out decided to try a new area of the Mighty Columbia. We set up out in the willows on the tip of the high water mark, a spot we perhaps should have tried sooner. I was chock full of ideas this morning. A new decoy spread, telling Fred how to build the blind; which I could tell he appreciated, advice on how to use the whistle call he has; which I could tell he appreciated and even ideas about where to sit. Boy I was full of em'. You see I planed to cleanly take over the lead this morning by greasing the first greenie of the year, and in the process become $20 richer.

There were a few fliers in the early morning but after a beautiful sunrise the ducks started coming in earnest. The first kill was all FGM with a double takedown of bluebills. At first there was some disagreement as to who shot the second one but being a team we worked it out. I missed 3 times. Then a fat ole hen mallard got taken, again by FGM. I missed 3 times. After that a big bunch of Greenies came flyin' in and again Fred folded while I missed 3 times. Now at this point I have to say that I was not the happiest guy in the world. Down 4 ducks and out $20 on what is likely the second to last day of the season, not good. So I did what any adult would do: told Fred to shut the hell up and sulked. At this point he shot yet another duck which I can't even remember right now. Oh yea, and I missed 3 times. AAAAAAARGH.

Well the ammo was running low and the day wasn't looking good for old Bob here so there was only one thing left for me to do. Murder the next Greenie that came by. I did. So you see I was right, I folded a greenie today. With that and a totally average but highly delicious sandwich under my belt I have to say that this was clearly the best day of the season. 6 kills for the team and a successful new spot with great hunting. I only wish Fred G could take a nice picture of me with my duck. Sorry folks but I am not afflicted with the "crazy eye" as the picture implies.
Oh, and one other thing. If you ever decide to clean ducks in your garage take a tip from Tony Soprano, put down a nice drop cloth so it doesn't look like that scene from "Carrie".

Thanks for stoping by and remember GBCH.

I Like This Thing Called Haiku

Ambient Slowly Drives Me Down

Lisa Has Full Tank

Mr. Greenie Shall Die Soon

Day 21 is BDFs' day for $$$$$$$$

Yep, I'm feelin' it. $20 richer tomorrow for the first Greenie of the year!

Day Twenty

New Link Alert

Water level dropping fast.

See new Water Level link below.

More Deep Thoughts

We Present Our Arms

Fred G. Christmas present from his woman

The Model 1100 Classic Trap brings the light-recoil comfort of a gas-operated autoloader back to competitive trapshooting. Each polished blue receiver is graced with an original pattern of scroll engraving, and accented in gold with a beautiful bald eagle, the symbol of American freedom.

The Model 1100 Classic Trap carries a 30" low-profile, light-target contoured vent rib barrel with standard .727" dimensions. Included are three specialized Rem™ Choke trap tubes: Singles (.027"), Mid Handicap (.034"), and Long Handicap (.041"). The fore-end and Monte Carlo stock are semi-fancy American walnut with deep-cut checkering and a high-gloss finish.

Day Nineteen

Oh Death were art thou? Day nineteen started off like every other day we had visions of slaying, we were greeted with visions of water. As you could see the water is up, 7.3 feet to be exact, it's that time of year. Being the best we adapted. We built a beautiful stand up blind and put out an awesome spread of deeks. Where I'm standing is a small island that is flooded with about two feet of water, so we found a spot on the tip of the island and built a great blind. With a stiff wind behind us the spread of blocks that Bob threw out was amazing, notice the blocks on both sides of the blind forcing the ducks to land in the middle. We stood the WHOLE TIME, THE WHOLE TIME! (that one is for you Ned) We had one set of mallards fly by on my side, Bob said I should have taken them down, but being unselfish as I am I was hoping that they were going to come around and fly into our spread so we could both fold. Wonderful sammys and conversation ensued. About an hour later another "hunter" decided to set up behind us, (not seeing us because of our expert stealthiness) I know what you're saying what kind of "hunter" shows up at 10:30? I don't know. After listening to his awful constant calling and the threat of him shooting over our head we decided to pack it up. The beauty of the day was not lost on us, it was an almost perfect day; sunrise, perfect placement of blocks, blind, sammys and coversation, the only thing missing was death.

Recreational Interlude

To those of you that may have known me before we formed the world renown HOY7 Hunting Team, you may wonder what happened to my skiing roots. Well let me tell you they are alive and strong. That's right Jenny X! That's right Brother! That's right Nedly! I am still the best boarder you know.

Woke up this morning, and despite the lingering pain in my back, went to the mountain. If you knew that there was an 18" dump last night you would too. (Well maybe not Bubba Kuehl, he's a pansy) Got up extra early and was there for first chair despite not having my chains or all wheel drive. That's right! You know what I would say to Jenny X. right now? "What you gots!"

The snow was pounding down all morning long and I rode as hard as my old man bones would let me. After several face shots and one rag doll fall it was back to the car for the trip back down the mountain and to prepare for another day of folding action tomorrow. Stay tuned for my hostile takeover of the "Expert" title.

GBCH

Day Eighteen?

Damn that Rhomboid Major. I'm missing the hunting day because of some lame back muscle. Not only that, but my team mate is out there hunting without me. I'm sure he will claim multiple kills when he gets back but let's remember that without photographic proof or a witness they are hard to prove.

So remember, if you see a Rhomboid Major lurking around your neighborhood, call the Police, they are up to no good.

Fred G. here

With Bob out I had to go out and represent the team. So I packed my own lunch and me and Lisa headed out to the Old New Old spot. With gun in hand I headed through the woods and came across two white tailed deer with their eyes shinning at me like two headlights. Ever come across two huge buck deer at 5 a.m.? Me neither kinda scared the crap out of me. Got to the spot threw my blocks out and waited. Then I waited some more. Nothing. No morning fly. I then proceeded to build a great stand up blind and then took off. It was a short day, but at least I went out. Maybe it was fate that I saw nothing, but at least I went out. Oh yeah no pictures or nothing of my day see day five.

Happy New Year from the HOY7 hunting team.

Thanks for being safe this holiday season.

Don't be like Bubba Kuehl, shown here.*

Mr. Heston would be ashamed.

*Image perhaps not actually Bubba Kuehl

Day Seventeen

Day seventeen was a long time comin' so we did our level best to make it a "Big Boy" day. After long work weeks for us both we decided on the new old new spot for some late season folding action. Also if you happen to forget that 2008 requires a new licence for a new year, the new old new spot is perfect. So off to the Mighty Columbia we went.
The first order of business was to set up a new blind and throw out some blocks. Fred G. had spent some quality time in his library that morning and knew of the perfect decoy spread to use so he rearranged my set up and in the process tangled up many of the deeks. (we didn't much care later) The morning fly happened all by itself and we were caught again and again not ready for the folding chances we were given. This prompted a new rule. Always stand for the morning fly.
Later we both took a walk to shrug off the rainy chill and again both missed folding chances. I missed because of the super choppy and windy scenario I encountered on the shipping lane side of the island. I chose not to shoot at the 6 Greenies that flew when I came out of the willows. I don't think I could swim with the barges in order to retrieve them. Fred G. had yet another gun malfunction on the other side of the island. While shooting at some wood ducks some errant lumber got stuck in his Super Black Eagle and rendered it useless. After a field teardown and reassembly he was back in action.
After returning to the blind a lone hen flew into our spread. Fred jumped up and pulled the trigger, click..... Must have gotten some field teardown lessons from Steve-a-rino. I pulled the trigger and blamo.... See the pic above.
Later we ate lunch and took a long nap to counteract the effects of the one beer we shared in the blind. We awoke just in time to not have to cross the rising waters in the dark and successfully made it back to Lisa unharmed. All in all a great "Big Boy" day.

GBCH