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

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