Friday, September 28, 2012

16 days to go

Spent the afternoon with Willy rigging his new fleet of flocked decoys while Peat tried out his spot in the boat and I listened to Willy's amazing calling skills.  Seriously, it won't be long now.  GBCH

Hmmmmm?


The Bottom Line

It seems that when tequilas decide to add flavors to the spirit they tend to develop infusions that are more exotic than many of the flavored vodkas. Often when this happens the flavor has a place in tequila-drinking cultural traditions. Such is the case for Gran Centenario's Rosangel Tequila, which is infused with the same hibiscus flowers that can be found in Mexican cuisine. The result is a delightful, floral spirit that is possibly the best infused tequila to date.
Gran Centenario Rosangel Tequila
Fred G....do you agree??????







Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Scouting Report

With only days to go before the start of the 2012 season I have been on a mission to scout out new places to hunt.  The new H7HT watercraft has opened up new possibilities for slaying action.  Who knows what areas are now accessible to the 12 foot camo sneak boat?  Only one way to find out.

I went to the Idaho Dept.of Fish and Game website and started looking for information about the places never before available to us.  http://fishandgame.idaho.gov/public/docs/wma/coeur.pdf   The map called Wildlife Management Areas looked good so I clicked on it and my mind was blown away.  Is this whole area in green WMA area?  A phone call was next in line.  I reached a guy at the F&G office who had nothing to do but tell me everything I wanted to know about wing-shooting in the CdA WMA.  Turns out that the closure on Thompson Lake (the other side of the road from my normal spot on Anderson, the one where all the ducks hang out and taunt me) only affects that lake.  The other areas in red, the ones we thought were closure areas, are perfectly fine to hunt.  In fact, they are THE places to hunt.  All public lands managed for the enjoyment of water-fowling and other hunting/fishing applications in fact.  He went on to tell me that some of the areas are private property and some of the landowners in the non-red areas allow hunting too, just have to ask for permission to go.  Moreover, any lake is good to go as long as you hunt from the boat and not from the shore.  Some of the marsh lands are private and, due to seasonal flooding/drying, are OK to hunt from a boat too.  Holy Heston!

After another half hour of him going on about other idiosyncrasies I also learned that I could go to the property records and find out exactly, down to the foot, where the property lines were.  Before I hung up I asked one more question.  What about Round Lake?  Yep, WMA too.  Also Heyburn State Park is one of the only State Parks to allow hunting right there in the park.  Holy Heston!

So on to the scouting report.  Dry.  Bone dry.  Lower Killarney, Cave lake and Swan lake were all dry in the areas that hunting is allowed.  So at work I started talking to Ron the Marshal and he told me a little story about duck hunting years ago with an old man he knew.  He and the old man, let's call him Mitch, well he and Mitch used to take a boat into the lower end of Round lake and take limits of mallards.  Mitch made him promise to never reveal the spot to others.  Mitch is now dead.  Ron showed me the spot.

With only days to go I now have to get to that spot and build a blind and look for where the water levels will let us retrieve birds if Peat is not yet 'birdy' enough.  So little time....
Unless of course we were reading the 2011 Fish and Game rules...
Then hunting season starts Oct 13th, just like everyone else...
Only 3 1/2 weeks to go.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Waylon at 5 Weeks & 4 Days

 A little over 2 more weeks!!!!!!!!!


Just to Clarify.......


The rainbow trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss) is a species of salmonid native to tributaries of the Pacific Ocean in Asia and North America. The steelhead is a sea-run rainbow trout (anadromous) usually returning to freshwater to spawn after two to three years at sea; rainbow trout and steelhead trout are the same species. The fish are often called salmon trout.[1] Several other fish in the salmonid family are called trout; some are anadromous like salmon, whereas others are resident in freshwater only.[2]
The species has been introduced for food or sport to at least 45 countries, and every continent except Antarctica. In some locations, such as Southern EuropeAustralia andSouth America, they have negatively impacted upland native fish species, either by eating them, outcompeting them, transmitting contagious diseases, (such as whirling diseasetransmitted by Tubifex) or hybridization with closely related species and subspecies that are native to western North America (see Salmo marmoratus and Salmothymus obtusirostris salonitana).

Monday, September 17, 2012

40 Miles On the Deschutes


The two Oregon Chapter members of the H7HT went seeking Steelhead Salmon.  The five day adventure started off in a small town of Maupin Or. at a put in just below Shearas Falls.  Sherars Falls was the site of a crossing point for local tribe as well as a sacred fishing grounds for local tribes.  Seriously happy we didn't have to raft through them.  We started off early Sunday morning after camping at the put in to ensure an early morning start.  The float started off with a small detour as Cliffy forgot his reel for his spey rod, so after a short walk back to the truck we were on our way.  The initial float was a 12 mile, 3 hour float down to our camp site.  We arrive at our site, a beautiful spot with about a quarter mile of our own water, sandy beach, and views that rival any Ansel Adams photos.  We set up camp and hit the water with our flies.  The wind was ripping down river making it very hard to get our flies out into the middle of the river, even with our hefty 13 foot Echo Rods.  We turn to our trout rods and hit our own personal riffles, I catch the first fish of the trip, a small 6 inch trout that could have been bait for the big steelheads we were hoping for.   With the wind making the afternoon fishing most difficult only one thing to do, crack some brews and have a few margaritas and wait for the wind to break and hope for some evening fishing.  We tried to throw some flies later in the evening, but with happy hour and the wind we find it impossible to stand on the slick rock.  We decided to call it and make our first of three awesome dinners, grilled rib-eyes with tomato onion salad and grilled romaine.  Evening came early for some and some stayed up searching the hills for the elusive big horned sheep and the skies for Orion and Hercules.  


After a sleepless night filled with howling winds and howling freight trains we awake with calmness.  Cliffy is up, coffee is made and the steelhead await our offerings. We swing flies for a couple of hours with no luck, what are they hungry for? Well we're hungry for steak and egg sandwiches with bloody marys. Who else is eating like this on the river now?  Nobody. The afternoon is warm and breezy.  I build a hot tub by arranging some rocks in the water to form a pool, meanwhile Cliffy tried to decipher the steelhead code. A tasty dinner of grilled albacore tuna and summer squash risotto with finocchiona is devoured, again no room for jiffy pop. We're relaxing by the water enjoying a midge hatch and watching guides drop off clients in their jet boats, placing them in almost impossible spots to fish in. We talk how we could offer these guys a way better experience, just in food alone. Margaritas, rib eye steaks, grilled tuna, rose wine and cold beer. Way better than the hot dogs and beans or maybe deli sandwiches they are being fed.

I go to sleep every night and awake every morning with beautiful visions in the hills reminding me of what beauty is.  It makes the night more restful even with the cargo trains passing every three hours.  The night skies brought the milky way and the big dipper as I wait for the morning to come.  Afraid to pee or get water to quench my thirst due to the beast crossing through our camp.  


Day four I awake sleeping better due to the lack of water spilled in my tent.  Calmness has overcome our   camp,  no winds, warmth, fresh coffee.  Today the salmon are ours.  We set out with fish sticks in hand, this is it, today we will get what we came for.  We have been watching the salmon hold behind rocks for two days now, we have changed out our flies over and over, today they will want our offerings.  We wade to our spots, we cast, mend, drift and strip over and over.  We do this over and over for eight hours, we are dedicated to our art.  Nothing. Breakfast, morning bloodies, lunch, all that is left is  another great meal to end our trip.  Grilled pork loin rubbed with herbs and plum with ghost peppers, fresh cranberry beans with smoked bacon.  Dinner is served, delish.  As we eat the last nights meal we are still focused on the hills around us in search of the elusive rams.  There they are!  Five of them feasting on the hills bounty, walking on the steep hills covered with rock as if they were walking through a field of flowers.  Darkness envelopes our camp for the last night, the night sky more luminous than nights before due to the moons lack of candle power.  Big Dipper, Orion, Hercules, Vega all saying goodbye.  


 We awake to a chill in the air, watch the rams butt heads and pack up the boat for a 28 mile wet ride home.  The captain led us through the rapids flawlessly, a little wet for the wear but safe.  We reach the take out and pack up and head home.  We didn't get what we came for, but didn't we?





Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Bring on the Armada.

So, H7HT co-founder and current 'Expert' Fred G asks me the other day if I'm getting all antsy for the upcoming season.  See, my season starts here in a few weeks, 19 days to be exact.  And I told him that with so much going on this time of year it's hard to be anxious just yet.  One job is coming to a close, another getting ready to start, our first real vacation in years, the possibility of Jenny X in town, scouting and blind building not to mention getting the boat all figured out, it's a lot going on.  Then I got home to a package waiting on my doorstep.  It's from Cabellas. Huh?

I open the box trying to remember if I ordered something online after having an adult beverage, something I thought I could not live without.  But then I see the packing slip with the note attached from 'The Expert'.  Some fresh goose decoys with a note explaining that now that the boat is complete it needs some new accoutrements. Sweet.  Confidence decoys for making the spread even more realistic.

So yesterday I completed all my chores and started in on the box.  I pulled the geese and attached the heads, measured the line and strung the weights.  Got all my old blocks from storage in the shed and dumped them on the floor.  Some had lost weights from the Anderson lake mud and needed to be replaced.  Some needed a little paint touch up and they all needed a good bath.  And where in the name of Heston did I put the wings for the spinner?  As I worked on the fleet I started to get a little anxious and began to think about the days coming up.  Now, with the boat, the possibility for new places to hunt and the chance to see other angles of the lakes.  Willy and Peat have been training and an actual retriever is in the mix.  Rocky the bartender has a boat and plans to hunt more this year.  Fred G, Jenny X and my brother C. DaFolder all plan to make trips to the Panhandle for some slaying action.  And to top it all off, this morning when I woke the temp was 34 degrees and a light frost was on the ground.

So today my sweetie and I had a good pancake breakfast and are off to Killarney Lake to put the boat through it's paces.  Time to see what the other side of the lake looks like.  The side where everyone says all the greenies are.  The side I could never get to before.  The side I'm excited to see.  19 days.


GBCH

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

Finally.

Where to begin?  It's been a long road of trials and tribulations in the quest for making the H7HT watercraft friendly.  And now, praise Heston, the voyage may be complete.  Today I picked up my boat motor and actually took it onto the water and actually got somewhere.  Again, praise Heston.

Looking back to the beginning of this whole fiasco I never thought buying a boat would be so much trouble.  It started innocently enough with the purchase of a old aluminum boat.  Willy and I went to pick the thing up months and months ago.  March I believe.  It was old and crusty and the Communist I purchased it from was the only one that told the truth about anything I was to buy from that point on.  "It floats" he said, and sure enough, it does.  Then the fun began.

Stripping and sanding first the trailer and then the aluminum boat itself.  Primer, and then more sanding, and then a good coat of 'duck boat green', which in itself was a challenge to get.  I remember going to Cabellas on the only weekend day of the year it was closed to try to buy the paint.  What fun.  Now Fred G. was here and it was time to lay down the most custom paint job ever.  The results still to this day amaze me with their perfection.  Now the boat looked the part but we were still months away from putting this thing on the water to see if it would actually float.

I watched Craigslist and saved my pennies and went out and bought a motor.  My neighbor and I had used his little 2hp for a trail run and the boat neither sank or went fast.  I knew I needed more power.  From the bowels of Post Falls, ID. I made the genius decision to trust a man that lived in a trailer park and had children with snotty noses.  He sold me a Hiawatha motor from 1948 with the promise that it worked perfectly.  Wrong.  Then, thinking I could rebuild it I bought a book about old motors and how to get them running like a top.  First chapter?  Don't buy a Hiawatha.

Keeping my eye on Craigslist again I looked to do some horse trading for a better motor.  Mistake #2 was trusting another person who told me this motor worked perfectly and had been recently serviced.  I took it to a mechanic who promised me a 2 week turnaround for a tune up and fresh everything.  2 weeks, I can live with that.  So here it is 4 weeks later and today I finally picked up my motor.  Mechanic guy addressed the bad plugs, gummy carb, broken impeller and general lack of maintenance but could do nothing for the poor compression on one of the cylinders without a major rebuild.  Trust nobody.  Ever.

So, after all that, after being a disgruntled pissy sourpuss for weeks, I finally was able to take the boat on the water. 
I like it.



It might not run perfect but it goes from point A to B without me feeling like I'll be rowing my way home.  I think we will be able to get to new and exciting places to hunt and maybe even back again.  So, after all that has transpired and all the trauma and waiting and disappointment, we have a boat.  Praise Heston!