Idaho: Day 17

Late season spread

Well, I thought it was over.  My final day of the season out in the blind with my lone brother.  Just he and I facing down the scourge of  late season ducks, ducks with only one thing in mind, to poke out the eyes of children everywhere.  Just a perfect day of snow and scenery.  Unmatched by anything I see while sitting on the barcalounger.  But no.  It was not over.

Phone message from Clider: "You know it's the last chance we have to hunt together this season."  "We could be home early in time for you to do chores."  "Massive storm front moving in at 9am."  "Ducks everywhere!"  How could I say no?  I had already packed up my gear, cleaned the Benelli and thrown my decoys in a pile in the back of the shed but I could not say no.  I wanted to start on my bathroom remodel but I could not say no.  I really wanted to sleep in because I was tired from a great snowshoe the day before with my sweetie but I could not say no.  So off to Anderson we went.

Looking back or looking forward?

The 5 mallards that set down in our spread 2 minutes before shooting time were a great sign.  And shortly after, the 10 greenies circling forever before setting down at the end of the channel were another great sign.  But after that....  Nothing.  Of course Clider shot a Redhead in the channel on a walk to keep his feet warm, he is the 'Expert' after all, but nothing for Bob D.  The storm front never moved in and ducks were piled on top of one another out in the big waters of Lake CdA and we had nary a good look after 7:30 but...
How could I say no? 
Goodbye 2012/2013 season.
Hello new 'Expert' for 8 months.
Next year is going to be GREAT!

GBCH

Remember

Over?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=V8lT1o0sDwI

Idaho: Day 16

The man you see here in this picture is none other than C. DaFolder, my brother from the other side of this Great Nation.  He came to North Idaho to get him some outdoor time in our mountainous area and to spend some time with me, Bob D.  We spent the first day on the slopes skiing Silver Mt. in a foggy cloud that did not allow him much of a view but did let him get back on some skis after many years of traveling over snow with nothing worthwhile attached to his feet.  I must say, the guy looked pretty good for a 7 year absence from the sport.  But enough of lesser pursuits: Day 16.

A hearty meal of Honey Nut Cheerios prepared us for the trip out to Anderson.  We left early to assure us the spot on the point because it's the only open thing around there.  The ride out was tame but the closer we got the faster and harder the snow came down.  I was thinking epic thoughts. We arrived with time to pack up and head out but as we left the parking lot the light from our headlamps illuminated nothing but snow and the 3 feet in front of us.  Sweet!  We walked down the slope onto the lake bed, now frozen over, and started across with me leading the way.  The snow was falling so hard we soon found ourselves in the middle of the first lake next to the puddle that sits in the middle.  Walking back later we found our path did a perfect crescent from the spot where we left the shore, I would be lost in the arctic in no time it seems.  We made it to 'The Tip' with plenty of time to get set and I enlisted C.DF in throwing blocks and getting ready.  After the decoys were set and we settled into the blind it was time for a toast and to watch the light come up.  The snow had lightened some but was still coming down nicely and that coupled with the low cloud ceiling made me think good hunting was coming our way.

Just before the hunting bell a threesome of greenies came right up the channel.  I let C.DF know that those were the perfect shot and explained my 'baseball theory' so that he would not be known as a skyblaster here on these pages.  It was not long before another bird came the other direction from the big side of the lake.  "Take him" I say and a lone shot rings out.  A miss, but what do you expect from a guy whose last hunting trip was to the Old Old Spot maybe also 7 years ago?  I took no shots that day and C.DF took only one more, even with the greenies I scared up from the channel later, but the weather was perfect and the company in the blind was all I could ask for.  Not often do the DaFolder boys get together, but we had a snowy good time freezing our feet and sipping wikki in the blind, ducks or not.
GBCH

Butt Cold

Hello,
It was the coldest day I've been out so far, butt cold.  I've been eyeing a place to hunt about half way between home and Anderson lake for awhile now, no hike and shallow water that doesn't freeze.  I decided to go check it out today, being that the weather was calling for calm and clear.
        After sleeping for an extra hour I loaded up Peat and we hit the road.  It was a quick set up only having to walk about 200 ft from the parking area.  I was settled in by ten till, listening to sounds of a few ducks starting to fly.  About 5 till a pair set down dead center in my spread,  perfect set up.  The pair of coot decided to walk straight up to me and then poke around on shore for awhile.  Other than that, the theme for the day was nothing moving anywhere except for some ice fishermen.  A little hiking in the channel that runs to the river and still no shots had been taken.  A lone bufflehead swung by to watch me pack up the spread.
      I left by 10:00 so I figured I should go do some exploring.  Killarney Lake was the next stop, which was just a giant sheet of ice.  As I pulled in to the lot there were three guys loading up an air boat, they had been skunked too and said they might just call it for the season.  I asked them about a dike that I  always saw people parked next to and they said there might be some birds out that way.  Nope, an hour later and no birds anywhere.
      On the way out the road comes within about a hundred feet of the river.  I figured why not take a look, I was still wearing my waders and Peat can always use some exercise.  I started waking toward the river and noticed it was about a 15 foot drop down to the water,  I could see quite a ways and again there were no birds.  Until five mallards exploded from the base of the bank, scaring the crap out of me and forcing me to defend myself.  I'm not sure if I've ever emptied my gun so fast before.  When the feathers settled one greenie was floating dead as a door nail about 30 feet out in the river, I'm pretty sure the switchblade he was plotting to use on me is at the bottom of the river now.  Peat launched down the bank and brought the bird back much faster than any before, it was a moment of pride.  He hurdled up the steep embankment and brought the bird straight to me, no dawdling, no dropping.
       That greenie had died quick and clean, a real expert slay.  While breasting him I noticed a hole dead center in his chest, upon closer inspection one pellet had gone through the breast and heart.  Peat is going to open up so much new terrain for the Idaho chapter, only 12 more days to train with real ducks.
   

Uhhh Uhhh Uhhh

 

Idaho: Day 15

There we were, sitting on the ice wearing white sheets over our heads and looking like big white turds on the surface of the lake.  I felt stupid sitting out there in front of a mini river full of decoys and watching the light come up around us but Clider said he knew they would come in, and he's the 'Expert' after all. After he took a walk to the puddle behind us, the one where all the morning fly ducks seemed to be going, some came my way.  I shot wildly at them struggling to shoulder my gun while dealing with wearing a big sheet.  I missed.  When it was my turn to take a walk the Gadwalls that came in were no match for Clider's one shot double fold.  Of course that was after I heard his first attempt go "click" from 100 yards away, but I digress.  Did I mention we were wearing sheets?

Other than a few other random ducks that flew while seated, and the inevitable ones that flew while we were packing up, not too much happened.  The weather was warm and the rain front that was to move in at 9:00 did not happen.  So we packed it up and went on a scouting trip towards Thompson Lake and the CdA river beyond.  On the walk out a lone Canadian was floating badly on the river.  He appeared almost dead and was only able to lift his head weakly when we went towards him.  Thinking he was another hunters N.R. Clider sent Peat after the big bird and Peat brought him in.  Good Dog!  After some debate as to what killed the Canadian I decided that if he was full of holes, and since Peat brought him in from a place that none of us could have gotten him, Clider can deduct a N.R. from his own totals.  If he died from natural causes or some new strain of bird flu that we are all infected with now, the N.R. totals remain unchanged.  We will see.

In any event the new spot we looked at seems nice.  It's frozen over now but next season could prove to be yet another new look for the H7HT.  I can only hope that when my brother, C. DaFolder, comes to visit we are able to limit out and get me a little close to the 'Experts'  insurmountable lead.  He, of course, will be hunting every day until the end of the season. 


GBCH

New Stuff.

Looks fast eh?

Today I traded an old chainsaw for an old trolling motor.
Does it work?
Do I have a deep cycle battery?
Will it fit the boat?
Will I ever use the boat again?
Is that a roto wing from 3 years ago?
What is 347 divided by 96?
All these questions and more will be answered in the spring.
Stay tuned.....


GBCH

First Or. Hunt of 2013

Ladies and Gentlemen, last Sunday, Fred G and myself ventured out to the Old Old Spot and secured the 'point' to slay.  We went to slay for Odin.  In years past, we have gone killin' for the King.  This past Sunday, we went killin' for Odin.  Odin was a mix of Husky and something something something.  He was Katrina rescue dog, that for obvious reasons, didn't enjoy the water.  But nonetheless, was the obedient companion of our good friend Lynnette (and faithful Blazer buddy of mine) for many years.  He went to eternal rest this past Sunday morning.  With the H7HT's dedication to Odin's memory, we ventured into wonderful conditions.  Cold, slight wind, perfect water levels........spooking flocks of mallards while setting up.  Wikky was tipped in honor and CIL'n time came.   Yup.........we saw some ducks.  In fact, even a couple Pinnies responded to Fred's whistle and would've added to the tally if it weren't for those stupid Brants.  But anyways, good times were had and sammies (elk, pork, turkey and blue cheese meatloaf wrapped in bacon on a toasted bagel with 2, yes 2, fried eggs) were devoured.  Not quite sammy of the year (needed salt), but still delicious.  Right now, I am packing to visit our friends in California to hunt 'pit style' blinds in the rice fields outside the Develin Refuge in Northern Cali.  Hopefully, it won't be 75 deg. like last.  However....I plan to slay.....I plan to come home 'expert'.  Look out u'da'ho!  The seasons winding down and the target has been set!

School of Ice

 I have spent a lot of time and energy hiding myself.  Ducks can see very well and the last thing you want to do is be obvious, Right?

My good friend Ken has been getting more interested in duck hunting lately, especially after I gave him an expertly slayed hen mallard a couple weeks ago.  A week ago he showed up with a beautiful Remington 870 wing master, wood stock, perfect bluing, beautiful gun.  So Sunday we went to the place where I spend my days off, the point on Anderson lake.  Home to a wonderful new blind, expertly crafted by Mr. DaFolder and myself, the point is also home to some of the only open water that you can wade into around here.

We showed up extra early to avoid anyone who would poach our spot.  The drive was sketchy but that mentally reassured me that no one else would be making the trip out to our blind.  There was a lone truck in the lot but no footprints, I was a little concerned until we got out there.  Two inches of fresh snow covered everything, it was reasonably cold with a light wind and still snowing.  The creek starts about 50 yards from the blind with a shallow pool about 20 yards across and then flows by the blind and  through a narrow channel out to the Coure d' alene river.  This channel is anywhere from 6- 10 feet deep right now and curves about 200 yards back to the river with high banks on both sides.  Everything else was dry or frozen with the  exception of a slightly thawed section behind us.  That spot is about 5" deep and has two thawed strips that are about 1' wide and 40' long, basically just two mud holes.

With plenty of time to spare I set out a pretty large spread, geese in the opening, a plug of drakes and the roto just in from that, a space with plenty of room to land, feeder drakes and a bunch of hens near the blind and a group of teal  in the fast moving parts of the channel.  Each one was carefully placed I even managed to drop (unbeknownst to me) one of the roto's legs in the channel near the teal.

We set up and watched ducks land just out of range, in the opening, several flocks came in and that's where they wanted to be.  We had shotten our guns at a couple of circling buffleheads and mallards but they were a little quicker than us.  After a beautiful morning fly the action had cooled down, no kills but at least we had fired our guns.  Ken was enjoying the whiskey and excitement, the weather had gotten a little nicer too, no wind or snow.

At this point I realized that the little mud puddle behind us was bustling with mallards again, Bob and I had seen this on our last trip.  I grabbed a few of my good feeders and two of the full bodies and we went over to the mud hole.  From the cover to the hole was about 50 yards, further than my comfortable shooting range.  We kept watching birds come and go but nobody would come near us.  At this point it was time for desperate measures, would they care if we sat out on the ice in complete view?

So we sat out on the ice about 10 yards from the hole,snow cover jackets but max-4 pants.  This feels stupid, cars can see us from the road, sitting like dicks in the middle of the ice.  The first duck lands in the far hole 10 minutes later 35 yards away. She gets up on the ice and walks around for a little bit, this is the perfect opportunity for Ken to slay.  Ken scares the bird up and waits, I think it's too late, then Ken places one perfect head shot in the Northern Shoveler.  She drop stone dead and Peat goes out for the retrieve, all of the shot hit her in the head and neck.  Ken had never fired that gun before that morning.

20 Minutes later another group came in, as they set their wings I placed a shot.  The bird rocked and then coasted over me, I rolled on to my side and fired twice more, both misses? He just kept gliding away toward the river.  A few seconds later a cloud of feathers lands around me, I must have connected.  I hoped up and headed to the river expecting to find a wounded bird floating. Nothing,  Giving up, I starting circling back along the channel path when I saw a black spot out on the ice near the bike trail.  Peat brought back my drake gadwal, two big holes above the breast and a dozen in the butt.  I don't know how that bird kept flying but it made it quite a ways.

Tiny merganser is huge compared to the bufflehead that was swimming in the big spread as I approached.  One of our pellets must have hit him earlier in the morning as we were shooting at his friends and family. He was so small I didn't want to shoot at him so i tried to grab the very much alive diver.  The bird wouldn't have it, straight under water, he was fast and fairly healthy.  After 5 minutes I realized I needed to use the gun and loaded up some 4 shot. First shot and he went under, while I was looking for him I thought the roto leg at the bottom of the channel had been blown off of the bufflehead and felt like a total ass-hat   Realizing that that leg was the size of the whole bird I started looking down stream. 20 minutes, a bunch of sweat and 6 shots later I finally connected with the little guy in the cda river, about 30 yards out.  One pellet had hit his tiny little dome, Peat brought him in.

Ken and I moved out on the ice near our original spot, the action had relocated.  Sitting on the ice makes it hard to follow birds and turn with them, that is the only reason we missed a limits worth of birds.  It was a busy day full of learning and this Wednesday I will put my new found knowledge to the test.  White bed sheets and a milk crate will hopefully provide me with an unapproachable lead.  Watch out, 8 months ago Ken didn't do much running  now he is training for Ironman.  When he gets into something he gets into something,  Future H7HT?

I am 1 bird away from Fred and Bob's combined total,  just saying.

A Little Waylon For Your Viewing Pleasure

Idaho: Day 14

Yesterday Clider and I went a’ slaying.

It had been much of a cold and dry week since the last time we were out and we both worried about the water levels out on Anderson.  It seems to be the only game in town right now unless you want to risk certain death and head out in a boat to the big open water of Lake Coeur d’Alene.  No me, not there, no way.  So after deciding on a time that gave the ‘Expert’ a few more minutes of rest we headed out into the cold.  Fortunately no other hunters had made plans for The Point that day.  We had the place to ourselves which was good because most all of the water on the lake, and all the surrounding areas, had frozen over.  Clider set his multitude of good looking decoys and I let him, he is the ‘Expert’ after all.

We had decided to sit on opposite sides of the slough to minimize our profile and also to have more area which to see all the inbound ducks that were coming with the morning fly. It proved to be a great idea for me.  Right at the bell a lone greenie came straight in and turned to the left, my side, and showed me his big white belly.  Quick as a former 'Expert' I raised my gun and folded him with one shot.  The retrieve was simple.  After that action we waited for quite some time before the next birds came by and unfortunately they wanted little to do with us.  The best look was a group of 4 that came from behind us and beyond them a group that wanted to come land in our slice of water.  They wanted in until Clider took a couple shots at the first group that is.  No blame though, I would have done the same.  Even with both of us taking walks to stay warm no other folding was to be had that day.  I could tell Clider was frustrated but I felt pretty good after last weeks N.R. to have a one shot - one bird day.

Clider plans to bring another new hunter out on Sunday so we spent the rest of the morning building a $89,000 blind out at the extreme end of the point's other side, an area we called 'the tip' last year.  I hope Clider and Ken have a murderous good time while I work away at my mountain top retreat.  Another goodie from that day, I saw what looked a lot like a Mojo wing at the bottom of the water in the slough, turns out it was.  I pieced together losing it 3 years ago (or at least one just like it) in that very spot.  I left the wings of my new roto on the clump of grass you can see in the photo.  When I came back days later only one was there and I figured the other was gone forever.  The odds that it blew into the tiny river, sank and stayed there for years with all the water flowing in and out with the seasons, is slim but I can think of no other option.  It looks the right age and is in the exact spot I lost it.  Hmmmmm?  Heston at work?  I like to think so.