Saturday, November 30, 2013

Thanksgiving in Idaho



I have many things to be thankful for, being Expert chief among them.
My lady friend is out of town and everyone is doing family stuff, it seems like a good time to go slaying.  I’m going for an afternoon hunt, the walk in area at Killarney has been loading up in the afternoon lately. 

I headed out with Peat and a small bag of blocks around 1:00, upon getting to the dike all seemed quiet.  Once I got about halfway out I dropped my pack and went to stealth mode.  I crept up to the same spot Otis had shotten his mallard last weekend.  They were back, I took my time and when they jumped I was ready, greenie in the bag.  This was already better than my Thanksgiving hunt last year when the only bird that I saw became an NR. 

I set out my spread and found some cover with Peat.  We were only about 15 feet from the blocks and in some pretty tall reeds.  The only water was about a foot wide and 3 inches deep, but it ran for a quarter mile or so.  Mallards kept decoying in but either Peat flared them by adjusting himself when they got close or they landed with some obstacle between them and me.  I’d move and they would land right where I had been.  I moved a dozen or more times, I sure could use some help here, if I had someone else we could have split up this spot into two zones of death.

I was able to talk one more greenie into going home with me just before sunset, Peat has been getting much better with all this practice.  I’ve got a treat ready for him right when he comes back and he’s starting to pick up the big birds by the body now.  I know training is more important than ever, with three members in the same place this week he’ll need all his strength to haul in piles of double banded greenies.


I cleaned my birds and headed over to a Drew and Trisha’s place for the second Beast Feast.  Drew has some experience cooking French dishes so I dropped off some ducks the night before and he pulled out some elk back straps for the feast.  It is beyond my feeble words to describe exactly what we ate but everything was fantastic.

Idaho 11-24-13

Soon I will be hunting with teammates again

I finally had a whole day off to hunt without having to go to work afterwards, and I had been paying attention while we were out on Friday.  I wanted to hunt that channel, it had been a nice open spot with good cover and no ice, the guys there had had great shooting all day.  The weather hadn’t changed, still cold, clear and calm. 

Otis and I showed up earlier than normal so we could be the first to the channel at Killarney, 3 airboats were already unloaded.  We made our way out with almost no ice in the shallows.  No ice until we hit the channel, which was frozen solid close to an inch thick.  We continued on and started passing greenies running on the ice next to us, a good omen if I’ve ever seen one.  We busted some holes and put out our floaters and a couple full bodies.

We settled in and heard the airboats banging away a good ten minutes before legal shooting time, we waited.  The first mallard came in and I shotten and missed.  He was headed right for our small hole in the ice, which was only about fifty feet away.  Otis shotten and missed a few minutes later, we settled in with some wild turkey and decided to shoot better for the rest of the day. 

The next bird in was a solo greenie about 5 feet off the deck and ready to land, Otis took him with a single shot.  A few minutes later he missed a hen pintail which decided to fly a little too close to me, my first pintail!  We were booth feeling pretty good when a flock of seven or eight greenies committed to the little hole in the ice.  There was much shooting and they were so close, I managed to drop one with my last shot.  One came so close to the blind in its panic that I could have hit it with a swing from my gun.  While happy, both of us were a little curious how we missed so much so close.

It slowed down for a little while until a single greenie broke off from a flight and swung through the spread.  On his second pass it seemed that he wasn’t going to stay, so I shot.  This might have been luck but he dropped with a thud in the middle of the channel, Peat had to sit this one out with the thin ice.  After another hour and a half of watching birds fly by uninterested we picked up and moved. 

I had seen a lot of birds moving into the north end of the lake, which I had never been into.  A few hundred birds left when we arrived, we tossed out a small spread and hunkered down.  A few minutes later two shovelers landed on the edge of our range and then swam to within ten yards of us.  Otis jump shot one and just knocked some feathers off, I took a shot too and broke his wing.  This was looking too much like an NR scenario.  I shot a few more times but he was a small target and kept diving.  I waded after him and was trying to move quickly while he was under water.  Apparently I am able to swim with a loaded shotgun because that’s what I was doing after tripping over a submerged log and ending up in five feet of water.  Otis waited to see if I came up before laughing at me.  I looked back at the bird and he had stopped moving, Peat went and got him while we loaded up the boat.

On the return trip we spotted an injured merganser which Otis took and Peat did his first deepwater retrieve to and from the boat.   I was actually warming back up even though I was soaked from head to toe.  After pulling the boat and packing up we watched a bunch of mallards land next to the walk in dike spot.  We snuck in and got within fifteen feet of the flock.  I told Otis to take his time, shoulder his gun and pick one bird.  I started moving through the bushes so we weren’t shooting on top of each other.

I was surprised when they jumped, I ended up firing through a small leafless tree without even getting my gun properly shouldered.  When the smoke cleared I had an empty gun and no birds, while Otis on the other hand had a nice fat green headed mallard that he only needed one shot for.  It was a great way to end the day, we had two new spots to add to the list and a stack of birds to clean.

I peeled off the 40lbs of clothing at the car and we went home to clean everything and have some duck bites.




Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Forecast Calls For PAIN!




Dec 2

Snow Shower
38°
19°
Snow Shower

TueDec 3

Partly Cloudy
22°
11°
Partly Cloudy

WedDec 4

Partly Cloudy
18°
7°
Partly Cloudy

ThuDec 5

Partly Cloudy
21°
9°
Partly Cloudy

FriDec 6

AM Clouds / PM Sun
20°
8°
AM Clouds / PM Sun

SatDec 7

Mostly Cloudy
20°
10°
Mostly Cloudy

SunDec 8

Sunny
20°
11°
Sunny

Monday, November 25, 2013

Open Letter From Cali Boys







Fred G,


I've waited as long as I could to write this, hoping I had some good news for you, but basically we're like the opening scene in the Hangover when Bradley Cooper's character has to call the bride-to-be and admit they lost white Doug.  Right now Kevin is lunging over the internet in slow motion yelling, "nooooooooo" trying to stop me from coming clean with my confession, but this is like therapy so here goes...

The truth of the matter is this hunting season has been down right awful for us so far.  Now, you may not think we're in such a bad spot seeing how you only have 1 duck to your name on your blog kill count (last I checked), but let me tell you, Kevin and I only have 1 duck combined and it came from a hen we swatted.  That's right, a swatted friggin hen...who does that?  Well, your talking to a couple hard up desperate duck junkies... 

Yet, if you think that's hitting rock bottom, you'd be wrong, because it gets worse...we both fired at the hen and are arguing to this day who actually hit it!  


And if you think that's rock bottom, we hunt next to a guy we nicknamed "Sure Shot" because we heard from the farmer that he was a great caller and a great shot.  Anyway, Sure Shot came in with a "limmie-limmie-limit" and asked how we did and we told them we "got a few."  We talked to him for a few minutes before we realized that our one piddly ass hen was sitting out in the open, laughing at us and exposing our fraud.  Sure Shot was not impressed.  

Sound like rock bottom?  Well, the following weekend we were talking to some guys nearby and they asked us how many ducks we shot last year in our blind since they were new to the area.  Kevin lied to their face and told them we shot 50 ducks, same lie he's been telling to the guys at the lumber yard.  The thing is, he probably shot 5 ducks last year total and I shot none...the lowest amount in the entire county, but it's not entirely our fault, it was due to the fact that we hunted out of a skunk blind.  Skunk blind you ask?  Yes, the blind literally had a dead skunk in it when we leased it from the farmer.  Yes, the farmer knew it was there, no, he didn't offer to have the skunk removed before the season started..."boys, the blind rents as is, take it or leave it."  

So we hunted from the Skunk Blind all year and I was skunked every time I stepped foot in that blind in more ways than one.  Needless to say we changed blinds this year, but here we are a month into the season and we got nothing to show for it other than having our DU memberships suspended based on our ethics.  We're at the point where we're borderline desperate.  If I don't bring home a duck soon, my wife is going to start thinking "duck hunting" is code for "stay up late and drink with my college buddy every Friday night."  I told my wife I'd shoot 100 ducks last year and that we needed to invest in a meat grinder for all the duck sausage I was going to be making.  This year I told her conservatively I'd shoot 60.  60 ducks?  How am I going to shoot 60 ducks?  I just missed a duck at 10 yards last weekend that was coming in hot with its landing gear down...if I miss a 10 yard duck, how am I going to ever make me some duck sausage?

Of course it's not like the weather has been cooperating.  It's been clear and sunny since the Opener and when we did get some weather we didn't even hunt those days.  A wise man once told us to "hunt the weather," but we haven't been listening.

So here we are, geared up out of our minds...I got more duck calls than a man should be allowed to legally have, we got  our trailer outfitted with solar power and propane tanks, we got Gibson's lids for our blinds, a jerk string, we got fast grass, probably 300+ decoys of all species, all types of camo jackets and hats, wadders (both hip and full body), goose shells and goose flags and lay out blinds, all types of lanyards and haulers...my closet is like a Macks Prairie Wing outlet...and not a darn thing to show from it.  Kevin wanted to run my hauling strap over with the Ranger just to make sure it looked used in case anyone ever saw it...

Then again, duck season doesn't officially kick off until after Thanksgiving so here's to hoping that our season gets better soon.  If it gets any worse I may need a new hobby.

In search of the X,
Gaucho Wino  


PS. Now if you asked me about deer season I could have told you all about the buck I smoked with my bow out of a tree stand on the last day of the season, but that's a story for another time...



Sunday, November 24, 2013

Idaho: 11-22-13

Today was the first time in a while I had been out in  Clider’s new boat.  I did not die.
I met Clider at 4:30am with plenty of time to get to Killarney before sunrise and account for Daylight Savings Time.  Actually it was 4:35 by the time I got there and he had called me to be sure I was coming.  I’m usually more punctual.  We loaded up in the cold morning temperatures and made it to the lake just in front of another group of guys who had only a row boat to get out to the channel, what a bunch of unprepared mollackas right?  I changed into waders and guided Clider back into the ice crusted waters, later we found out that the heavy crunching noise the trailer made backing in was partially his license plate and a small part of his taillight breaking off and disappearing into the water.  Good thing he didn’t find out until later, it made him mad.

We were in the water first but the guys in the rowboat were off before us breaking ice on their way out to the spot Dallas and I had hunted years before.  We were headed to the alley on the far side of the lake where my boat had gone the year before and I had ripped my brand new pair of Gore-Tex waders on some rusty debris.  This time would be different, no waders would be destroyed and greenies would die.  We set out a large armada of geese, mallards and divers in a linear patter Clider has assured me would bring in every duck coming by.  There was only one problem.  No ducks.

In fact the only real ducks we saw were the group of 6 or 8 drake mallards that came by as Clider and Peat were on the shoreline warming up.  They buzzed once and headed down lake towards the guys in the rowboat.  Shots rang out and we saw only a couple ducks leave.  Nice job Mollacas!  Of course there was one other duck.  We had both walked down to the spot of the aforementioned wader ripping incident, upon our return, after I had put down my gun,  after I had taken off my gloves and as I was shifting my chair, the lone Henny that had been sitting no more than 10 feet from me in our blocks casually took off and flew away.  No biggie, I only shoot Widgeon.  The action dried up after that and we decided to head on home but something caught Cliders attention.  Another hunter, some guys in an airboat, had gotten stuck and needed a ride back to shore.  Clider was just the guy to do it.  I felt bad for Peat as he pulled away leaving us behind.  Peat was sure that he had gone forever and no amount of reassurance could convince him his master would be back.  Peat was not at all concerned for me as I pulled and wrapped all the blocks and put them in nice patches of open water surrounded by ice.  This way they would be easy to load when the boat returned.  When it did the wake broke up the ice and the blocks sailed free.  Sweet!
 
Shortly after we had a nice cruise back to the boat ramp in which I marveled at how much more stable and confidence inspiring Clider’s boat is then my old one was.  As we passed the row boat guys we saw they had set up in the waters of the channel and it seemed that of the few birds that came by that day, they all funneled right down that channel.  Could these guys be smarter than us?  Not a chance.
We are the H7HT and we are the Best.
GBCH

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Idaho 11-21-13 Or: 'The day I shotten half my limit......

Of Hen Mallards.'

Our fine and wonderful ski area is still lacking in snow and we can't open this weekend, so after some wrangling with Stephanie, I ended up with today off.  We all know full well I was going to The Point.  I checked the sunrise chart provided by the interweb people because the IDFW no longer posts the legal hunting hours in the waterfowl regulations booklet.  Sunrise, 7:47.  Seems odd but I checked twice so I left at about 5am and headed off to Anderson.  By the time I got there the Eastern sky already had a slight glow to it, and if you know my neighborhood, you know it ain't Kellogg lighting the night sky.  Doesn't anyone consider DST?  I didn't.  I rushed to set up while ducks were flying overhead.  We have had our first cold snap and there was a slight ice layer on the lake close to the shore so I set my blocks further out into the channel and got ready for the goods.

Frost on the Pumpkin
Lots of ducks were on the lake today and all of them were making a racquet out there.  It was hard to bring anything good in close.  The few that did circle in always seemed to come from the direction I wasn't looking before peeling off to land in the rafts of geese and ducks further out. After a few passes I started calling with the Highball, something I never do, and it seemed to work.  Ducks were coming to see me and I took a shot or three but missed due to a bent gun.  The sun was up now and I had my sunglasses and face paint on so the duck coming at me from the right never saw my perfect camo.  It made the standard Mallard 'wack wack wack wack' sound that they do while landing so I lined up into the sun and as soon as I saw those big orange feet down I pulled the trigger.  Henny.  Later in the day Clider reminded me that only hennys make that sound coming in.  I thanked him for being 'The Expert' and imparting on me his great wisdom.

More time passed and I did manage to get another shot or two off but nothing folded and I was getting cold.  Remembering that Clider shotten his banded henny AND a drake by taking a walk, I tried it too.  The other area was lightly frozen and as I made it back a big fat Greenie took
off from the middle of the decoys.  Not only that, but after I was packed up and ready to go I was unloading my gun wondering if I should leave a shell in for the walk out, and another Greenie flew by and looked at me the whole time. The whole time!
Tomorrow Clider and I head to Killarney.
GBCH




Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Waylon Day 1 (aka Andy vs. Sandy)


Hey Cliffy......por que your gun no go bang?  Well inquisitive reader, let me tell you a story:

Fred and I decide to take Waylon out for his first day of hunting.  We  decide an afternoon shoot out at the island off the point that is next to the 'old old spot' would work just fine.  As we are escorted out to the area by multiple dog walkers, Waylon and another dog of his same age take a liking to each other.  They happily bounce around as we make our way out.  The other dog also had an older counterpart, whom didn't like Waylon as it turns out (stupid old dog).  As we make our way down the muddy path to the 'old old spot' and turn right to head out to the point, I noticed the dogs turned left.  I turned around and their shanannigans put them in the river.  They were swimming and staying afloat in the moderate current, but they couldn't get out with the 1 foot drop off the bank.  The other dog owner gets down on his hands and knees in the mud and starts pulling his dogs out.  I lean my gun and pack against a fallin tree about 20 feet away and follow suit.  The minute we get the dogs out, they get into it!  I mean teeth exposed...the whole nine yards (Waylon's cool, thanks for asking).  After finally getting them seperated and Waylon tied up to a tree, I go back to retrieve my pack and gun.  But wait, there's my pack and no gun.  WTF?  I could have sworn I set it right next to the pack.  After a quick search, it doesn't turn up.  Could the dogs have knocked it into the river during the scuffle and I not notice?  I lean over the embankment and trench the bottom with a stick but the current was swift and the water was deep for any accurate assessment.  During this time, I ask myself....where's Fred?  I grab Waylon and we walk out to the point and see that he's already on the island with decoys set up.  After a lot of yelling, he finally gets the point that somethings wrong, so he packs up and heads over to the mainland.  Fred, master of taking over not so calm situations, gets into the river and starts poking his foot around whilst I hold onto him.  He finds it!  It's deep!  It's my gun!  Fred tries to scoot it closer with his foot, but every time the current grabs it taking it into deeper water.  We look at each other knowing there's only one option and Fred solidifies that option by saying 'it's your gun'!  While Fred buries his feet into the boot sucking mud, I start to undress thinking about the great friend I have who jumped into a deep swift river without hesitation to locate it.  In my base layers and socks, holding Fred's hand I jump in.  The 'turtling effect' takes strong hold as I try to keep my breathe in the freezing water.  I locate where the gun is with my foot and plunge.  Got it!

We hike out after a smoke and few quick sips and cruise back to Fred's place where he disassembled my gun and we started the clean.  3 hours later and You Tube videos, the gun is still disassembled as the firing mechanism won't 'pop' back into place.  Where's the gun now you ask?  I took to my local gun shop where some dude in Clackamas will come pick it up and make it right.  I almost said F it and wrote a check for $299 for the used Benelli Nova sitting on the shelf, but this gun and I were Experts one year.  It may have been just one year, but my name is on the blog as an Expert and that gun did it with me.


Monday, November 18, 2013

Andy Vs. The Sandy



I have not much to say about this.  Ask the Man.





Idaho 11-10-13

I have been remiss in my posting duties the last week or so.  It so happens that the last week and a half work has been getting ramped up, and my commitments to things other than the Blog have taken over and not allowed me to be posting as much as necessary to maintain my connection with you and the thousands of daily readers of the Blog.  I am sorry.

So here goes:
Don't mess with me non Greenie ducks
On this day I shotten a Shoveler.  I have pictures to prove it and they are here.  I did not take a shot on the Greenie that came in before.  I felt stupid.  I then shotten at the first thing that came by, mostly to take a shot.  I folded the duck cleanly by leading it nicely and one shot took him out.  I let him sit in the water hoping that another duck would fly in.  One did not.  I thought that Clider and Ken were on the other side of the lake shottening too.  They were not.  It was other hunters.  Skyblasting for sure and missing all the time.  I waited more.  After I got cold and my wikki was getting low I packed up and left.  I went home and breasted out the Shoveler and put his tiny meat harvest in my freezer for a more appropriate time. That is all.

I will be better at posting in the future but right now Monday Night Football is on my TV, I want to watch it.
GBCH.




Sunday, November 17, 2013

The Last Three Days

It's a busy time of year, what with all the slaying and getting ready for ski season.  I built a boat blind with a little help from Ken and Otis and it's pretty easy to use too.  I'm trying to keep up on everything so here goes.

11/11

I got a pretty early start and headed to Killarney with the intentions of using the boat blind back on Hidden lake.  I tried out my new boat lights which are temporarily mounted to the grab bar, they work great for blinding Peat.  Unfortunately that's about all they're good for until I remount them somewhere else.  I headed out and promptly stuck a stick in my eye while picking up grass for the blind, I even got a perfectly round cut that took a few days to heal.  Happy to still have two eyeballs I decided to just setup in Killarney.

After an hour and a half nothing was moving so I moved to a little cove that had been loaded with mallards last year.  After setting up, divers started coming in and landing around the blocks but just out of range.  I finally got a committed group and dropped a widgeon at the edge of my spread.  I pulled back the blind and Peat went out, the back of the blind was still up and the birds came back around.  I had another bird come into the spread and connected with this one too.

The first one was stone cold when it hit the water and the second one seemed that way too, until Peat showed up.  It proceeded to beat Peat in the nose for awhile and then dive down to tangle up in the weeds.  Despite quite a bit of looking it wasn't to be found, my first NR for the season.

An hour went by and drake blue wing teal landed with his gang in the middle of my spread.  It was a perfect setup, he was close and moving closer.  I jumped, he jumped, he went down and then he dove, never to come back up.  Two NRs in one day!  I was disappointed in myself and decided that hunting in weedy water is not something I want to do anymore.  I packed up and headed for the house.

On the way back I decided to head out to Hidden and do a little more exploring.  After a mile and a half of shallow water and mud I made it out, so glad I hadn't done that in the dark.  While exploring I found a decoy and got a surprise when I went to grab it. An injured greenie was hanging out right behind the block, unable to fly.  I chased him around and finished him off.  I checked him out at home and the breasts were full of shot and starting to grey.  It made me feel a little better to have at least finished off someone else's NR.  No point in it suffering out there.

The trip back was slow and involved being stuck a lot.

11/15

Ken and I headed to the Other Side.  We set an awesome spread and watched birds for most of the morning.  Some trumpeter swans landed in our blocks, I had never seen them before. They are huge and very endangered.  They were big white decoys, but everything was in a raft about 200 yards out and that is where the rest of the birds went. We pulled out around 10 and were headed home when we noticed that the Harrison slough was loaded.

We headed out a dirt road and saw blinds everywhere.  We headed out to one of the nasty looking blinds and decided we could stay for 10 minutes.  Upon entering the blind I noticed two things, 60+ empty shot hulls littering the mud and water, and a live but winged hen mallard.  We picked up the hulls and I took care of hennie.  We had 4 decoys with us and we put them out as the small storm started getting nasty.

Lots of birds came near but nobody wanted in.  Except for a nice fat drake mallard, I pulled up my gun and had a great shot lined up as he started to land.  No matter how hard I pulled the trigger my empty gun would not fire.  We stayed for an hour and then headed for home, this seems like an amazing weekday spot.  I was feeling a little better about my NRs when I was able to salvage that winged hen.  Since I had lost those two I hadn't shot until I found the winged birds, what are the odds.  Within 20 minutes of finding that hen, birds were coming in, some sort of karma thing?


11/16

It was storming like crazy, my good friend Otis had bought waders and was heading out with me in the nastiest weather I've hunted in yet.  The drive was tense, with lots of trees across I-90 and more completely across the smaller roads.  4-6" of slush in places made me feel silly towing my boat into the storm.

We got to Killarney and headed to an easy to get to spot.  Good cover, no weeds and a good wind with snow falling hard.  After settling in a trio of mallards committed, setting up way out.  This was Otis's first time duck hunting and he wasn't holding his gun when I saw them.  I told him to grab his gun as they landed right in front of me, we could still get the jump shot maybe.  Everyone jumped and we both missed.

We drank some drink and even shot a few times, divers were absolutely nuking in the high winds.  After awhile a lone shoveler came in and Otis took him with a single shot, I followed later with a merganser.  We were getting cold so we packed up and headed back.


1 Stick in the eye
2 NRs
2 Salvaged NRs
1 empty gun
1 not shottening so someone else can shotten too
8


Hopefully I'll get to hunt with another h7ht member one day.















Thursday, November 14, 2013

Dang ol'

The boat is awesome, it looks really sweet in my backyard and the bank lets me slowly pay it off over the course of years.  It didn't have a blind on it and I hadn't done a proper walk-in day so Bob and I headed out to The Point.  It's really nice out there and I hadn't been since last season.

I brought the breakfast burritos and Bob brought the sammys (BBQ sauce is awesome).  We packed light and set out a v shaped spread, plenty of time before shooting.  Bob is on an " I won't shoot anything but widgeon" thing right now so he let the big fat mallard henny go.  Nothing else really wanted in and we were left listening to the laughs of some mallards a little ways down the shore from us.

I get cold pretty easy and the light load had never really warmed me up, so I went off to scare up greenie and and brought Peat along for some exercise. After scaring up a good sized flock and sending a few near but not near enough to the blind I headed back.  That's when I noticed a pack of mallards between me and the blind, right along the shore.  I walked and crawled  and got in close enough to shoot, Bob called and gave me the tip in case I was wandering into an ambush.

When I jumped  they jumped, one big fat greenie went down and Peat brought him in. It dawned on me while I was walking back to The Point that I could have taken a second shot at another bird, I've never tried a double and a jump shot is the perfect scenario to try.  We sat for awhile longer and we decided after I got back from my next walk we would pack up, I still had to work and Bob has a couch and TV calling his name.  I asked if he wanted to come and he opted out.

Heading back along the channel and then through a bunch of brush until I came into view of some small diver ducks along the shore.  I debated it for a little while and decided to watch them before I scared them toward the blind.  While they were playing something moved between me and the waterline, there was another greenie sitting in a shoebox sized puddle in the mud.  I watched it for a minute and then jumped.

He popped out of that hole with a surprise, he'd been getting nasty with a hen.  The first shot dropped the drake cold, I had just been thinking about it so I leveled on the hen and fired a single shot.  Peat went after the hen and I grabbed the drake, my first true, intentional double!  I was pumped, both had been clean kills.  This was the highlight of my hunting career, I thought.  Something crazy happened when Peat came back in to exchange his duck for a treat.  I rolled her over and there was something I never expected to see in person, a shiny little bracelet covered in numbers.

I picked up my birds and headed back to the blind, floating along.  Bob couldn't believe I got two birds and when I showed him the band he seemed as excited as I was.  I called in and reported the band, she was a local bird, banded around the Killarney area, about 2 years old.  I know people get these all the time and some never see one ever, but I'd like to think that now that the ice has been broken the h7ht will be flooded with bands in the future.  Perhaps one day Bob will only slay banded widgeon.



Sunday, November 10, 2013

I Guess They Don't Work Anywhere.



Thankfully not here





Hunting today at The Point, I found these things in the mud zip tied together.  Maybe they were an anchor or perhaps some kind of pipe bomb, or even an attempt to plumb something in the lake.  All I can tell you is that they seemed to work no better at whatever they were doing in the lake than they did joining together cast iron and pex plumbing fixtures in my home.  Being as I was terrified of them blowing up, just like they did in my home, I left them there. Hmmmm?







Wednesday, November 06, 2013

Idaho 10/26 & 10/27






I missed a couple of days and though I'd catch up on the old before starting on the new.

10/26

I figured since I was heading to Killarney Lake by myself, I'd build a boat blind until 11:00 the night before.  It was a solo day and I managed to get to the ramp with over an hour and a half till shooting time, perfect.  It was just a 15 minute boat ride and that would leave me with plenty of time to camo up my super sketchy burlap and wood stake boat blind before shooting.  How serious could a fog warning be?  The lake was pretty small and I've been out on it a few times.

After an hour of driving in circles with only ten feet of visibility I made the spot.  I won't go into it much but that was the single most disturbing experience I've had in a long time.  Fog warnings are serious business, even on small water.

I set up and brushed out the boat.  Everything had to be done from the boat, the water was deep and the mud was bottomless.  I put out about a third of the blocks and sat on the floor of the boat, ten minutes after shooting time.  I had a few teal come in and swims around the blocks, I figured they should hang out and provide some motion in the super still conditions.  Nothing was moving but fog.

I had a visit from the fish police in their sweet airboat, after a full inspection they decided to take off.  They proceeded to completely blast my boat with their fan from about 10 feet away, overturning some blocks and stripping the cover off the blind.   I couldn't wade into the deep muck so I had to tear down the blind to get to the blocks.  The guy had offered to push their boat back so it wouldn't blow me out, but the woman driving said that it wasn't necessary.  I thought she must have had another way that the guy didn't know about, she didn't.

The same woman stopped by our blind a week later in a truck, I asked if that had been her at Killarney and she said it was.  Turns out that the boat was a loaner from the biologists and that she had blown the motor the same day she blew me out.  She actually seemed to be pretty nice and in retrospect she must not have spent much time in that airboat as it was a loaner.

No shots were shotten but I got back alive.





10/27

Another solo day, I'd be hunting with Bob at "the other side" tomorrow.  I got out a little late with only moments to spare before shooting time.  I set out dozen mallards, six teal and a pair of goose decoys at Mud Swamp.  Birds were flying and mallards kept setting down but always out of range.  I decided to move decoys around and still they would land out of range.

I finally decided to move to another spot and leave Peat on the floating raft of cattails where he could be out of the muck.  As soon as I settled into the new spot, about 40 feet away, a big ol' greenie settled in across the hole from me.  He splashed down and let out a content call, I waited for him to come closer, but I didn't want to lose this chance.

I pulled my gun up and he took off to the right, the first shot let loose some feathers, lots of feathers.  I hesitated before firing again, this is an easy place to lose birds.  I decided that he might not live with the amount of damage I had done and decided to shoot again. In the moment of thought he had continued moving toward the treeline and was now further than anything I had shot at before.  I put a huge lead on him and pulled the trigger, he dropped.  I'm not sure I would try that one again.

I called Peat over and we settled into another stand of cattails closer to where the birds had been working.   Another flight came by and I let off a pretty loud call as they moved into the distance.  On the third note a very surprised greenie came into view only about 10 feet out and maybe six feet up, locked and feet out. I think he might have been more surprised than me as I blasted that call in his face, he flared and before I could pick up my gun he was gone.

Another teal  landed right outside my original hide and he swam in and out of range for awhile.  I packed up everything except two hens and was getting ready to pull those when a group of hens circled and committed.  After missing three times I grabbed the last of my blocks and headed back to the car.  Mud hole is a hard place to leave, birds fly by every few minutes but they'll only come down at certain times it seems.  It had been a busy weekend but I still had Monday with Bob to look forward to.




















Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Idaho: 11-4-13

Another week of work down the drain meant another day for the Idaho chapter to slay.  Sunday had been a washout for slaying with both of us going to clean up after the CdA ski show.  I had product to pick up and Clider was forced to go along to bring home the gondola cabin trailer that they use for marketing.  A storm front was bringing cold and snow to our hunting grounds and it did not sit well with either of us. We had been in negotiations all week about where to go and of course I suggested The Point, I love The Point.  Clider wanted to make a pilgrimage to Hidden Lake on the back side of Killarney and was planning on doing his best Mad Scientist to create a boat blind for his new boat.  As of Sunday he had not finished so we planned on a walking day, perfect for The Point.  Due to the recently enacted daylight savings time we left exceptionally early for..... the Other Side.  He is 'The Expert' after all.  We brought bunches of decoys of all races and colors and drove right up to the Other Side blind and settled in for a fine, mildly cold and overcast day of potential.

Duck suggester 
Ducks were flying and soon a lone duck came in all locked up and ready to rest.  We both saw him and shot at the exact same moment folding him cleanly in the spread.  Now, we all know that I only shoot Greenies so the widgeon that Peat brought in was awarded to me. (Apparently I only shoot widgeon now) After some more flying a group came in and we both took shots, with me shooting last and wounding a bird who promptly swam away beyond any reasonable chance to retrieve.  An N.R.!  So there I am back to zero and feeling like one for poor shooting choices.  Clider and I both took walks down the road to the cove where bazillions of coot were loafing and scared the dumb ass mud-hens enough to make them water-run to safety.  Little did they know, they are always safe from our guns.  As I was walking back an IDFW lady drove up in her truck and checked our IDs and the plugs in our guns.  She seemingly ignored the tasty delicious Bush Beer sitting next to me.  I don't know what the law of the land says about having a beer while hunting, but I say Mmmmmmmm yea.  Of course while she was there three different sets of ducks flew by and wanted in but none of them could ignore her walking around without face paint on.

Sidebar: While in CdA we stopped at the local sporting goods store and I bought some face paint on a lark.  It looks stupid and you feel like an idiot, but it seems to work.  As the old H7HT motto goes 'Stupidity be damned'.  We are converts. I will never again feel normal anywhere in public after a day in the blind with that stuff on my face.  Sure, you can wash the stuff off, but once again 'stupidity be damned'! I plan on using it on every hunt and just maybe when mowing the lawn, it will never see me coming.

A short while later I noticed a fat greenie coming in from the right.  Clider was in his flight path to my right and the greenie came in so fast that I did not, and would not, take a shot.  I believe I said something like "of course" or "why not" about him landing with a smooth splash in the middle of the spread but instantaneously Clider was up and aimed.  The bastard immediately jumped off the water and Clider folded him with clean precision.  Now, before I tell you what happened next, remember that the last few times I was out on The Point a greenie or greenies have come in and landed in the blocks.  I jump and they sit or patiently swim off a distance before taking flight.  Then I miss them with poor shooting skills.  Well this time he did a perfect 15 yard out jump and got folded on the spot.  I said (earmuffs kids) "fuck you!" aimed, not at the duck but at the man to my right.

As Peat retrieved the duck I had time to reflect on what had just happened.  My teammate, another H7HT member and the current 'Expert' had just made a perfect shot on a big green headed bastard and instead of being happy for him I was a little bitch. I know that my season to this point has been less than stellar but there was no excuse for what I had done.  I should have been, and normally am, exhilarated when one
of us shoots a duck. I was now a two time loser.  I apologized and Clider was fine but I learned something today, something I already knew.  We are a team. We are the H7HT and dammit, we are the BEST.
GBCH and slay on friends!


Sunday, November 03, 2013

Old School




Today "old school" was tossed around the blind.  "Remember when" was also tossed around.  It was good. Cliffy reminisced about the old days of the Old Old Spot.  But it goes further than that.  To the days when it was just the "Only Spot."  Cliffy was talking about pilgrimages, in order for people to understand the old days they should experience it.  Agreed.  But Cliffy talked of the days when he was introduced to the H7HT.  I had to drop a little knowledge on him, the days of the jeans and work boots.  Stocking foot waders cut offs, big bottle days.  Cutting our teeth with 20 pound guns and a Mossberg that may blow up in your face at any time.  The days of sliding on those cut off waders to set the blocks, called decoys back then, and slid on to retrieve the decoys or a fallen angel.  The seasons that would go by without even a slay, no for not trying the average year meant 25-30 days out, but we knew no better. It wasn't only the possibility of cilling, we had sun rises, snow filled mountains, hunting hawks, a beautiful walk into and out of the woods, stories of life and death.

Then non-breathable waders were the way, walk 45 minutes with a pack on and your waders were filled with water, sweat really, before you even set the decoys.  Feet soaked and cold, we'd wring out our socks in the blind, sometimes even building a fire to dry off.  There was never any bitching, we were hunting.  (you may have heard me say that about last week when Cliffly stated "but Fred G. were hunting.")  We walked forever, looking for new spots, constantly filling our boots with sweat equity. Always trying to invent new ways to slay the beast.  A camo tarp was invented, hunting umbrella, hunting lounge chairs into tri-pods, decoys into blocks, into roto deek, calling, too much or too little calling, into the whistle.  Blazing a path we thought was only for us never imagining the hold it would take on two younger gentleman, eager to learn, learn the ways of the H7HT.  Welcome.  Welcome to school, class starts at 4:30.  In the  a.m. 




Happy Birthday Cliffy


Yes we made the best blind today.  We drank the most wikki.  We saw the MOST ducks ever.  We had the BEST sammy ever.  How did you all celebrate Cliffys birthday?  Thought so...



Just look at that haircut!
from scratch EH?