Royals by a 7' clown, Happy Halloween

http://youtu.be/VBmCJEehYtU

I Thought We Were the Best?

Exploding Whale on the Oregon Coast

 

http://www.youtube.com/v/Vn7D-pikXNU?autohide=1&version=3&autohide=1&autoplay=1&attribution_tag=lONohdoiIBWTr5U0Z7cNwg&showinfo=1&feature=share

 

 

 

Day 3 Or. Recap

 

 

Well, as you have read, the morning started out to be a bitter cold one.  On all fronts.  However, after a little whik (the one thing we are definately better at than the ID), cheery faces once again overtook the blind.  Speaking of the blind......one of Fred's best ever might I say.  We chatted away this morning because we saw 0 ducks during the morning flight prime time, in fact, we only saw 2 groups all day.  All of which were to far to call at.  But, you don't know unless you go right!  Heck, we've had worse.  What we haven't had worse so far this year are the sammies.  Man, we love our sammies out here in Or.    Day 1 we had seared Kasekrainer topped off with an omelet, whipped cream cheese with scallions all on a Gabriels Cheddar Cheese Bagel.  Day 2 Fred made a pulled Chicken sammie with asian style slaw.  And Day 3 we had Duck Egg Salad on Pastrami tucked in a Sesame Bagel.  Good stuff this year so far.....with a full season ahead of us!  Unfortunately, last night I found out that Meghan and I got the house of our dreams and we are slated to close while the Or. Chapter is in Idaho teaching clinics on folding.  So, I will not be able to make the trek to this weird shaped state this year and pass on my wisdom.  Oh ya, FTP showed up at the blind this day while I was taking a leak.............

Idaho. 10-28-13

Long week of work with even a stupid junky ski show thrown in it.  Days away from the waters of Anderson.  Clider blasting yet another Greenie.  And the whole time me just thinking about the chance to go slay.  Today it was on.  Clider and I planned a good Monday of slaying with Ken and the boat.  Clider and Ken would take the boat and all fifty thousand of our decoys out to 'The Blind' and I would walk the path out, we would set the armada and all H. E.double hockey sticks would break out as the fat banded Greenies would pile into our blind....   That was the plan.

As Sunday rolled around, and the G-Men worked up yet another victory, we learned that Ken would not be joining us.  The forecast called for massive winds which put the mollaca on the boat.  Fifty thousand decoys would have to stay home.  Forecast also promised cold temps coming down from Canadia pushing ducks from their spots from the north. It was 37 degrees as I left the house and clear stars lit the sky.  No problem.  We were ready.

Clider and I left at 4:30am and packed light and fast.  Orion the Hunter was the only constellation fully visible in the morning sky and as we walked out a shooting star passed right through him.  A good omen for sure. We got to Anderson and out to 'The Blind' with plenty of time to set our decoy packs in the classic Nike Swoosh pattern heading away from the wind, perfectly ready to intercept all the ducks flying from right to left down from the preserve to points upriver.  We also had the wind duck spinner along which had been modified to sit in the hard clay bottom of the lake.  Clider also brought along his new custom shears which cut massive quantities of grasses to refresh the blind that I had started on my last trip out to Anderson.

Invisible

(ID 10-22-13. Went to The Point.  Shot at Greenie.  Missed.  Sat there until the sun came fully up. Waited more in vain.  Went to 'The Blind'.  Strung and built it.  Went home for a nap.  The end.)

We toasted our good fortune at being in the perfect spot as we watched other hunters set up in the 'Other Side' area we pioneered last year.  At this point I must interject into the story about my bottle.  I expected that using a cork in my classic old hunting bottle would be a good thing to do.  I filled it the night before and popped a cork from one of my Sweeties wine bottles into mine.  Right after the first toast the cork became irrecoverably stuck in the neck of the bottle and removing it provided Clider with endless fun commenting about the noises of frustration and effort I was making.  Let's just say that I won't be using that cork, and maybe the bottle, again. I drank some cork for sure.

Shooting time came and ducks were flying around in the heavy winds that moved our blocks and made the wind ducks wings scream and patter in an annoying way.  The first few wanted nothing to do with us and I think it was after Clider removed the noisy, cranking wind duck that 2 came in from the right, solidly locked up and dropping into the decoys.  Clider took the shot but missed the greenie and the two of them flew off together.  The group on at the 'Other Side' was blasting away but we were happy for them moving ducks off the safe waters there and sending them onto the lake, unfortunately not to us. 

A while later after more overflights a big honker came in and Clider, maybe thinking of evening the score with Fred G, took a couple more shots and failed to bring down the big Telefunkin U47.  It would have made a nice retrieve for Peat who, at this point, wanted something to do other then watch us chat about hunting and blow duck calls with no effect.  The Coot who sailed in from the right also drew another of Clider's shells before he realized what he was doing.  Meanwhile the guys in the the 'Other Side' area blasted away and the wind blew.  More calling and more ducks overhead but nothing wanting to land forced Clider to take a walk down to the bay on the left of The Blind.  I knew full well that this was my best shot at getting something.  When he scared up the 50+ mallards there I thought for sure at least seven would peel back and land in our blind but none of them did.  I had some more cork.

At least Peat is ready!

Clider returned to take a quick nap, something I've never seen outside of the Oregon Chapter before, and I snapped this nice double exposure photo.  Soon after we packed it up and headed to the truck for a delicious ham sammy but not before we discussed the possibility of the books, magazines, old timers, articles, common wisdom and other hunters who say that the number one thing to do is "be where the ducks want to be" being correct.  Personally I think it's a bunch of crap.  The ducks want to be where the H7HT is.
We are recalibrating......
GBCH

FTP In Da House!

Well it ain't no whale dick honey
No slitting of the throat was necisito

Sunday Bitter Sunday

Cliffy says to me today why so bitter? "Why the bitter beer face? Why you got to be so down on us?" Well I'll tell you why.  I'm sick of it, call me bitter. I'm tired of no water, no blind, no ducks, 2 mile walk in two mile walk out, sky busters, waiting in line to shoot my gun, boot sucking mud, dog walkers.  But he says to me "Fred G. we are hunting, we find the best spots we can set up a blind in hopes of that one chance of slaying a green head".  Today was frustrating, only our third day out with nothing to show for it.  We have not seen a single duck that we would want in our totals. I say to Cliffy  "why do we have to search for water and build a blind every time we want to hunt?  It's going to take us an hour today just to build a blind to hunt over a puddle of water and then we won't even see any ducks.  The Idaho chapter just show up either in a boat or a short jaunt, throw out some blocks and wait for ducks to fly in."  This is after walking a couple hundred yards in severe boot sucking mud. Cliffy says to me "were hunting."  I'm not trying to belittle the ID chapter, if I had it like that I would too be happy, I would not make excuses for our greatness, I would embrace the way of life, and death.  Does anyone realize that Frank Zappa was writing songs about Zombies many years ago before Zombies were even cool? Yeah, Zomby Woof.  He knew about the Zombies!!  I guess what I'm saying is that if I never knew of another way of hunting I would have believed that this, the OR chapters way, was the only way.  I did not encounter any Zombies today while gathering greens and branches to build a blind on the island, but if I did I know I could have taken them out with my clippers with a strong swift stabbing to the head. Sorry for the bitterness, but the bitterness is just frustration and frustration don't put no ducks up in the totals.  I don't wish any ill will.  By the way Cliffy said today that he too wants to join the OR chapter out in ID in December, lets see what we could do about that, all the members hunting in unison, well Heston Damn!

The Blind that took us an hour to build out of nothing
just so that we could be 30 yards from the water

Clider Day 4, Round Lake, bitches.

Oh man, Rocky got a limit of birds at Round.  That's seven, in one day.  That's a ton of birds, did you see how happy he looks?  I'm pretty sure he shot his first bird that morning.  I'm going to Round now too, I've been wanting to go for awhile, but the boat makes everything possible.  So freaking pumped.

 Ken and I were in the boat an hour and a half before shooting time, we were on a mission to scout out this legendary spot.  Opening day this place sounded like a war zone, we were sitting out at the Other Point listening to everyone skyblast away.  Today we would have it to ourselves, today we shoot 100 greenies.

After establishing that the short route was indeed choked with grass we turned around and took the two mile river route.  The sun was coming up behind us as Bob sent a the message that he was already set at the Point.  Upon entering the lake we started scaring up huge rafts of coot and ducks, this was already an awesome day.  The full moon had given way to a pretty amazing sunrise, Bob was still mired in fog at Anderson.  We looked around but everything was flooded reeds with solid ground well back from the open water, far away from anywhere the birds could land.  We frantically pulled into the thickest reeds we could find and threw out a small spread, hunkering down in three feet of water.  Nothing wanted in, probably because we looked like idiots.

After the initial fly was over we loaded back up and went looking for a real spot.  Rocky sent me a photo of his haul, I used this photo to figure out what part of the hill he was across from and we actually found the same spot.  It was pretty obvious when we pulled up, dozens of shot wads were floating in the shallows, spent hulls were littering the ground.  We set up in the tattered remains of an old blind and did a few minor improvements.  Birds came and birds flared.  After many repeats of this we decided to take out a sizable loan and upgrade the cover.

So sleepy

Forty minutes later we had a pretty respectable blind, so we sat down to enjoy our new fort.  Ten minutes later our first committed bird came in, a merganser came straight in from the front.  Wings set from the beginning, no circling, feet out, our blind was working.  He was about two feet off the water, maybe twenty feet at the most from my seat.  It was a solid hit and Peat brought him in.  A short while later another merganser committed the same way, this one went to Ken.  He connected and I swear the finishing shot hit square, but the little guy started out for the middle of the lake.

I ran to the boat but I couldn't get it started due to a slipped throttle cable housing.  While I was messing with that Ken watched his bird go under and never come up again.  I should mention that after Ken's last outing he had invested heavily in patterning, chokes, and practice.  This was a blow, we motored around but to no avail.

It was almost mid-day and once again everything was flaring(possibly due to the orange marking tape we failed to notice in the front of our blind).  Of note was a particularly large, fat, green headed bastard that flew by so slowly that it appeared he was about to fall from the sky at any moment.  This oafish bird smelled of freedom fries and maple bacon.  He eyeballed the blind and never altered his coarse, a straight line about fifty feet past our blocks.  The skanky looking hennie with him was obviously his bottom bitch, no doubt they were off to snort oxycontin and swill some rye.  Bob had attempted to end him earlier that morning and he decided to party it up to celebrate the missed shots.

On our way out we took all the trash from the hunters before us and headed back towards the river.  In all fairness it was mostly wads and they had collected in a nice floating raft on the week since they had been shot. Noticing a raft of ducks we tried a little raid where we drove straight into the flock, tossed six decoys as we went through their spot and then hid the boat quickly.  They circled and a few even landed but we had ended up too far from the decoys when I tried to hide the boat a little too far into the reeds.  They circled for about ten minutes and we packed it up.

It was already 1:00 by the time we were halfway up the river, exploring is exhausting.  We found a way to cut half the boat time out next time, we can carry everything about a hundred feet over the bank to the same spot.  While we were investigating this plan I stumbled across what may well be the centerpiece of Bob's garage soon, we'll see what he thinks. The hot spot later in the day was once again an area that is perfect, if you have a boat blind.....


Duck Bites....

Clider Day 3, take a youth hunting!

I was a little nervous taking Cathi's son hunting, I was actually surprised she let him go.  Chase comes into the office after school sometimes, but we've only spoken a handful of times. He takes Peat out and throws the ball for him and every once in awhile he'll swing by my desk and talk about hunting.  He's 13 and pretty quiet around adults at least, and for some reason it seamed like a good idea to invite him out for an evening hunt.

Mom made sure he had a lunch packed when they met me in Kingston, complete with home made banana-nut muffins, packaged in a bright pink bag.  After a quick stop at his friends place for borrowed waders we were headed for Hidden Lake, neither of us had been there but supposedly it's the place to slay ducks around here.  After a few minutes in the car he started talking about bow hunting, turns out he's a stone cold certified killer, got an elk last season, with a bow, at 15 yards, oh and it was a giant bull!

Chase, future enemy of Greenie

We unloaded and headed out toward the little channel that leads to Hidden, it's about 20 feet wide but the grass chokes it down to about eight or nine feet for most of the mile and a half journey.  About half way out the channel we saw a kayaker picking cranberries, most likely because he wasn't man enough to kill a limit of ducks.  As we pulled into Hidden it became obvious that all the guys in airboats, that had been talking about this spot also have blinds on their boats.  We scared off a large flock when we pulled in but there was no where to hide except on the opposite side of the small lake.

We headed over and got to blind building, $42,628 later we had a pretty good hide.  Employing many of the DaFolder methods we were able to expertly hide ourselves from the empty bog.  It was strange, everything was floating, it looked like land but you can feel it moving.  This floating mass covered a few square miles, with little holes that were of unknown depth spaced out every so often.  I checked out a few holes and I couldn't reach the bottom with our boat oar.

We settled in with Chase running the jerk rig and myself on the duck flutes.  It started pretty quiet but as it got closer to dusk the birds started moving in.  Not in huge numbers, but it was nothing to sneer at, everything wanted in to that spot on the other side.  Chase fired a couple shots over the course of the hunt, trying to scare up anything but with no real results.  Might be time to pick cranberries.

Between us we managed to fill a gallon freezer bag, cranberries are a strange plant.  It's the smallest stalk with giant berries hanging off, the plant is so small it looks at first like the berries are just sitting on the ground.  After limiting on cranberries it was time to pull blocks and head back.  This was a two man job in the mucky, bottomless, bog.  With Chase picking up the blocks and myself fumbling around with the motor we got them up in about twenty minutes, pretty respectable considering the soup.  The muck was so thick that the boat had to be pulled around at times because the motor couldn't move it through the layer of scum about six inches down.  You had to pull from the edge of the bog on the floaty stuff, everything took alot of extra effort.  I'll need to get a hook of my own soon, after that experience I can't imagine pulling the blocks by myself in those conditions.  T.J. Hooker will have a new partner soon, names?

At last we were on our way out, Chase turned out to be a better spotlight operator than I was too.  Once we got into the channel, the full moon was so bright we could turn the lights off and cruise by moonlight.  We loaded up and headed back.  This was only Chase's second time waterfowling and he said he had an awesome time, even though we headed out empty handed.  I was surprised at how mature he was, we had a couple birds come around and he waited patiently for them to commit.  No sky blasters in this camp, the future generation of ethical hunters looks safe for now.  Because we are the best,

Monica cleans cranberries, I clean ducks.

Mammy.

Friend of the H7HT Rocky the Bartender (Now known as Rocky the Miner, after switching jobs to the Lucky Friday mine of Idaho) sent this picture the other day accompanied with the text that he had shotten his limit of ducks on Round Lake.  Round Lake is the very same lake that Fred G. and I went to last year during the Founders Tour and had picture perfect blue skies and no ducks anywhere.  Seems that Rocky the Miner and his miner friends went out and all 5 of them shotten their limits.  Doubtless the full face paint had something to do with it.  I congratulated Rocky and asked him about the blackout.  "I may have gone overboard on the face paint" he says.  If that's what it takes....
Congratulations Rocky!  Of course I see no Greenies in the photo, just sayin'.

Day Two 2007

Did I mention I made beef jerky for today's slay? How does a man that drives get the extra half hour of sleep? And speaking of sleeping is it not the early bird that gets the worm? These questions and more but first a word from our sponsor.

"Jameson Whiskey A Fine Drinking Whiskey Good Enough For the Hoy 7 Hunting Team"

Available in 750 ml for those BIG days

Always drink responsibly and take at least one nap

Day Two. I must admit that today I slept in just a little bit but for good reason. I got the elusive 15 extra minutes of sleep that's not suppose to come with driving. The reason being was that I was up all night making fresh beef jerky for the team. I will post the recipe later. I scrambled over to Bob DaFolders' house as fast as Lisa would take me. Upon arrival I see Bob sitting and waiting ever so patiently, Bob gets in my apologies go out and Bob says "we'll never make poker chip!" which he was totally correct because it was 5:03 and we would have to be at poker chip by 5:30, and with an hour drive it was not going to happen. Bob DaFolders silence envelops the truck like a fog over San Francisco. After we hustle to the East side of Sauvies and get in the non-reservation line the fog clears, things seem to be cool, especially since we are not the last ones in line, but the fifth to last. Did I mention I made fresh beef jerky for the team? Well after a little wait we were awarded blind number 13 in the Hunt unit, for me one of the more scenic blinds but not a favorite among hunters due to the late morning light and such. The H7HT loves a challenge. After Bob expertly lays out the blocks we settle in with the same morning rituals, whikey, smokes, chat, whikey and so forth and so on. A lot of sky busting going on and a little frustration, time for lunch. I must have put some of that stuff that's in turkeys cause when Bob was done with his sammy he went right to sleep. Well guess what happens when Bob sleeps? That's right Fred G. kills. Hen Mallard flew about 20 yards out coming into our spread and bamo, first kill of the year for Fred G. and the team, guess what that makes me? See new poll. Well a bunch of same happens, Bob is now trying to stay awake cause he don't want to miss it. Well guess what? he falls asleep again. Now right about this time my bottle of whikey is gone and I look over to Bobs bottle and see he has ever so little left. Well knowing that when Bob wakes up were just going to leave and since I'm carring the bag with all that kind of stuff in it I wanted to make sure the bag was as light as possible, so I drank his last bit of whikey, and as I did he woke up just in time to see me finish his bottle off. Remember the FOG?

Fred G.

Lore 2006-2007 Opening Weekend

Fred G Here

Yo all welcome back, hope you all had a great summer, I heard Andy B and his girl yo saved a small country in Africa from thirstation by learning how to rain dance from a small tribe in CT, now they are about to embark on adopting a small children from that same country, way to go Andy as if savin the Catrina peoples was not good enough to make us all look bad. I heard The Brother got another DUI, did a stint in rehab and is resting comfortably at his grannies. I heard Ned made another million. (FUCKER) Jenny X is a chumpion at his club. Curious....well I only heard from him when he was faced. God bless Corey Lidel. Steve O dug himself out of a hole and threatens to come back to PDX to kill, and the Bean just threatens. Day One Monday 16. With classic mis information from our team member Andy, who we will call Cliff Clavin from now on, we awoke at a bright and shine 3 am. Thats early people. Bubba picks me up, talk of lack of sleep, anticipation and what a great season it's gonna be ensues. We arrive at the check in gate at a crisp 4:15, second car in line. It seems early, because it is, we don't have to be here until 5:30, another classic H7HT blunder. Remember the mis info from Cliff. We hang with four guys in a Tercel. Finally gates open chips are pulled, Bubba pulls no. 141 ouch, Fred G pulls no. 20 which is good for 4th pick for blinds. Were off to a great start. We get to our blind do a little blind decorating, deeks out, sun up, bottle of So Co down. A little action, a few shots are takin and had, a few too many. My buddy passes out, I cleaned, pull the deeks out, wrap up the rotto, it's bluebird sky now and I get "what the fuck are you doing? did anybody ask me if it is over?" No Shmubba I just thought you would be more comfortable at home sleeping on you couch with Opra, besides half your face is beet red from passing out in the sun I say. "It's not Opra fucker it's Ellen! I got more booze and smokes." So my hunting bud "convinces" me we should throw the deeks back out. Two hours later no shots off no nothing we pack up and go home. Great tacos on the way home though, would have made Jiggity proud. Day Two Wednesday 18. See were the "best ever" cause we learn people. If we go back in time here are some things we have learned; you need a new license at the begging of the year, sometime certain ducks are out of season even though it is hunting season, and the ever popular salt will make your food taste better. Well gosh darn it if we didn't learn something today, you only have to be at the check in station a hour and a half before shoot time. So if shoot time is 7am you have to be there at? ............................ that's right 530am! We don't have to leave at 3:45 but we could leave at 4:45, that's an extra hour for Shmubba to sleep! Picks me up, were on our way, (note: remember when your mom used to or still does drink TAB? Well Bubba greeted me with a TAB energy drink this morning, I think it's for women going through the change, anyway it SUCKS! If you should visit him and he offers you one, say no thank you you FAG cause it SUCKS!) it's Wednesday so it's the day we talk about POWERBALL people, let the dreams begin! Get to the check in station, small wait, we get a new blind we never had before, throw our deeks and it's like JFK at Christmas, the ducks are going off. 7 am hits, it sounds like Nam. I'm shooting at everything, I mean everything! But I'm not knocking nothing down until I fold two that's correct two with one shot and in the same volley another for a total of 3. I am now the new and improved expert. I need respect. A glorious morning folks. You will find a recipe for duck in a mole sauce and a picture of the 3 ducks I murdered today, if you notice the middle one I just wasted, damn I'm good. Anyway that's pretty much it for now, until next week. And thanks for coming back.

The Most Prized Duck Ever!

It Almost Killed Us

YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT!

It was just over four years now that this amazing feat occurred, and I'm stating right now that it shall never happen again.  So in light of that I'm purposing another "once in a lifetime bet".  The first to bag the limit of ducks in one day.  Four of the ducks must be greenies and two must be hen mallards.  The rest could be shit ducks for all I care, you shoot'em you clean'em you eat'em is what I say, unless you have two hungry Mexicans like I do.  $50.00 Bucks.  In or out?

Day Two Oregon

Well this picture and video pretty sum up the day two.  Cliffy and I met on the island at 4 a.m and headed to the East Side.  For those of you that don't remember the East Side is a first come first serve except for the reservations, which we think were going to make every year.  You line up in your vehicle and wait, obviously the earlier you get there the chances of getting a better blind or a blind at all is greater.  Sometimes you can burned, the "dudes" in front of us got there at 11 p.m the night before, we got there at 4 a.m.  See what I'm saying?  We end up seventh in line behind 18 reservations, it's a great spot to be in.  

We arrive at the check in window and Cliffy the stud that he is pulls Mudhen 6, it's like he knew 7,8 and 9 had no hunt able water.  Blocks out and Leroy at the ready to bring the little devils in.  Pre-morning fly was pretty good which turned into a so-so morning.  Cliffy doing his best to get on the board with a few missed opportunities.  Me, I have not shotten my gun in a season plus here in Oregon.  Lunch, the second best sammy of the year so far, called a gut bomb, did  little to help.  The sun is shinning brightly, good enough for me to take a respite.  I awake to some crap ducks wanting us, I, Fred G. unload my gun, perfectly no less.  Gun shouldered and looking down the barrel seeing red.  It felt really good even though I did not want to fold any of them.  We then call it, all we are seeing are crap ducks, nothing else.  We decide to pack it up.  It was a beautiful day, moon setting over the west hills, seeing ducks, not a lot of sky busting and beautiful blue bird day.  Next up, taking Waylon out on Sunday to introduce the boy to the H7HT way.

Idaho 10-17-13

Bob D. here.  Got me a bonus day off today from working hard all week for The Man and you know where I was going.  Clider had to go to meetings or some garbage like that so I loaded up the trusty Swedish hunting vehicle and headed out bright and early.  Good thing I went Swedish this morning too, missing the big elk standing dead center in my lane, around the curve, in the fog, at 50mph would have been nearly impossible in the truck.  I was wide awake after that and both the kitty and the raccoon that attempted suicide seemed trivial afterwards.  I expected stars when I got to the parking lot at Anderson but I had high clouds and light fog, perfect considering the full moon I never even checked for that was shining brightly when I left home.  Time to load up a Cougar Shell and get going.  I'm not sure if it was me or the cougar that scared up the large group of geese resting in the bay but the ruckus was a welcome noise in the blackness of morning.  Stuff was here.

We had checked The Point last week and knew that all it needed was a quick freshen up to be ready for the year so I cut some brush to cover the stakes that were obvious and did a quick check to make sure everything looked right.  One goose decoy went far to the right as far out in the open water as seemed prudent.  He was the confidence block and also a reminder to any ducks coming from the backside that the bay was a good place to be. Twelve mallards went to the left backed by the spinner that I left in the off setting, no need for the noise and distraction of that guy until the sun was shining.  I settled in and toasted the breezy chill of the morning air.  I also had time to remember how quiet and peaceful it is on The Point in the predawn darkness, kind of like duck hunting Church, so I toasted Lord Heston too.  Ducks were waking up and making noise about 300 yards further up the lake on the left shoreline and I was feeling good about my choice.

I learned something about myself this morning.  Something I already seemed to know.  My name is Bob DaFolder and I only shoot Greenies.
Divers were landing in and around the spread, doing their little dance where they swim dive and splash around, and I welcomed the movement in the area.  A few bigger ducks came by but seemed disinterested and after a bit I moved my decoys further out into the open and turned the spinner on.  I watched the first set of 3 circle in and I looked for the telltale green head but I saw only brown.  They landed outside the blocks and one peeled away and swam into my decoys.  I watched as she slowly swam up to another hen decoy and lightly peck the body of the fake with her bill. She recoiled after the tap and looked confused.  I expected her to fly away but she just started to eat and swim within my decoys, soon after she tried the peck again only to have the same reaction.  A pair of mallards circled in from the right and the hen landed but the drake moved off and left her to join the other. Then the two hens from before came swimming back and they all had a nice breakfast while chatting and mingling with my blocks.  I could have jump shot and taken down at least one of them, they were just 10 to 15 yards away, but I wanted Greenie,  Minutes later the drake swam over from who knows where and the hens were only too glad to join him.  Perfect I thought, but he immediately started to take them in the other direction and I knew I had to move or lose them.  I jumped. They jumped. I shot, three times.  They flew.

All hell broke loose then as all the divers and all the other ducks on the lake took to the air.  I had missed my chance but I knew they would be back.  Ten minutes later a lone hen comes in locked up straight away.  I did not shoot.  She starts the dance all over again and I wait for the Greenie that never comes.  Shortly after the sun breaks through the clouds and everything stops.  I head for the sammy back at the car and a nice afternoon couch nap without a duck to show for my day. It was perfect anyway.
I am Bob DaFolder and I only shoot Greenies.
GBCH

Day 1, part 2 of 2 of 1/2 of the Idaho Chapter

"Eyeball to eyeball with the man in the black pajamas"

It would make sense that there would be ducks loaded into Mud Swamp.  It's the continuation of the preserve, has identical cover and water depth, it looks right, it's really hard to wade through and the preserve is loaded right now.

I turned right instead of left, NASCAR be damned.  We headed up the road and found an empty lot at the trail head.  Upon exiting the vehicle it became obvious that mallards in the area were moving around and partying hard, it was loud.  We pulled out 8 blocks and left the boat with the giant pile of decoys behind, just two guys, two guns and one 90 pound duck hungry hound named Peat.

After a short hike in perfect sunny conditions we found the source of some of the noise.  A small hole, ringed with reeds and full of mallards.  We scared the birds up as we entered the boot sucking mud and hurriedly tossed the blocks out.  Quite a few birds came around and flared so after awhile we jockeyed the decoys around again and waited.  More birds came in and flared before landing in the next hole over.  I decide to wade over and scare them up hoping that they'd move back to the hole where Ken and Peat were waiting.

After scaring up the birds I looked back towards Ken and realized that there was a very obvious giant black lab hanging out behind a few blades of grass, it was time to find better cover.  I was about to yell to Ken to follow my tracks when a flight of 3 teal care ripping in.  They circled and dropped in, buzzing around the hole.  It was a fairly close shot and down went the first bird of the season, a beautiful green wing teal that Peat retrieved in some really thick reeds.  We found where the birds wanted to be, no decoys needed.

Peat's first retrieve of the season

After another half hour and a few missed shots everything dropped off, it was after noon and we were both hungry.  We headed into town, had lunch and decided we had enough energy to head back out around 3:30.  After sleeping in the park we headed back out, this time with a few divers and a pair of honker decoys in addition to the original eight.


We returned to the second hole where the birds wanted in no matter what.  Getting in is a little sketchy, it's slippery, thick with weeds, too deep in places and you end up standing in chest deep water the whole time.  We set up and waited as it started to rain, it wasn't long before our first birds committed, 3 more teal wings locked and feet out.  Ken and I each fired a shot and each dropped a bird.  Peat hadn't seen either of them but he took direction much better than usual and found my bird out in fairly open water.  This hen was beautiful a one of the coolest looking birds I've seen.

Soon...

 After that the action was constant, we missed a few great opportunities for some more birds but it was amazing to see.  A lone hen mallard came in feet out and never left.  A hen and drake mallard came in fully locked up about 20 minutes later, the greenie was perfectly lined up with my hide and made for the best setup I've had so far.  He was a nice mature bird, and Peat brought him in to put with the rest.

Peat, the Best retriever in the Idaho chapter.

This was the best day of hunting I've had and I'm still excited 3 day later.  We happened across the right spot, where the birds wanted to be, blocks or not.  The hole is small, so when something commits you have an excellent opportunity to shoot.  Standing in the cold water, gets tough, and moving is hard, but this is my new favorite spot.  Mud Swamp is also located under the duck super highway.  As we entered the last 45 minutes of legal shooting the birds stopped landing and then they stopped flying low.  Like someone turned on a faucet suddenly the sky was full of ducks, all on their way to do something important.  We watched thousands of birds fly over, it was the biggest gathering of anything I've seen.

 Ken and I hiked out and headed home, I think he is totally committed now.  He said he had a great time even after spending almost all day hunting from the pre-dawn to dusk.  The teal Ken downed ended up being an NR, it was too thick with weeds for Peat and we had to call him off for his own safety.  Ken made a long and thorough search for his bird, through some of the thickest stuff I've been in to no avail.  There were a few missed birds, possibly partly due to his new and before unfired Super Nova, it seems to be bent just like Bob's.  To be fair his last gun, an 870, fits and feels completely different.  Ken was disappointed in loosing his teal but he says he will be practicing for our next hunt.

I had breasted out the first teal and and put her on ice during the day.  I always pluck and clean larger birds whole, it just seems right, but that second teal was so pretty I felt obliged to do a full dress on it too.  Maybe it can be some sort of mini turkey for Thanksgiving.

I'm honored to be part of the H7HT, and I really appreciate being brought into the fold of the Best.  I hope I have another day this good again, I won't forget this one anytime soon.

Idaho Founder and Future 'Expert' Day 1

Bob D. here.  My first day of the season was a long time coming.  Especially long due to the fact that all the other main players in the H7HT were out before me and had their opportunity to shoot Greenie before I did.  What a shame.  I need a job where I can hunt every day and not have to report to the Boss.  Maybe 'Lottery winner'?

Clider resets

So knowing full well what Clider and Ken (H7HT name forthcoming) had been up to I picked up Clider and Peat at 4:30 for the ride to Anderson and beyond.  The F250 and it's questionable carburation system preformed flaw less ly, and we showed up at the Other Side with plenty of time to put out many mallard blocks, jerk rig, spinner, teal pack and several geese. I am hunting with Clider after all.  The furthest blocks were only about 30 feet from the shore because the water drops off quite quickly and even though we had a good dog TJ can only reach so far for retrieval. We finished just 5 minutes after legal shooting time.  We set back into the holes we cut into the brushy roadside and waited.

Future so bright.....

It was very foggy and still but there was a nice chill to the air which is somewhat unusual for this early.  Ducks, mainly small ducks, flew near us and some buzzed the spread looking but not landing.  We called and tried to entice them out of the fog by trying different cadence and whistles along with the standard highball.  Nothing.  After a while I could tell Clider was getting antsy to go to his new favorite spot, the 'Mudhole'  We packed up and moved over to the Mudhole which is only about 1/4 mile away.

I'm sure you will soon hear about the slog that it is.  Let me just say that ballancing on a floating raft of cattails is interesting to say the least.  Ducks moved around when we were setting but noting wanted us.  Nothing that is except the roten Henny that landed out of range on the other side of the hole not once, but three times, and proceded to quack away with no effect on bringing Greenie in to see us.  Bitch.  Soon after we packed up and headed back to the truck.  On the way Clider chastized me for not being 'The Expert' but I still shared with him the delicious sandwhich I spent hours making the night before.

Enclosed are some pictures of our day and I must say it was great to be out in the blind again.  Not only are the wikki and treats good to see again, but the Pedes Usque Conseres is what it's all about.
GBCH

You Forgot Your Stupid Poem

"Time To Kill"

by Bob Da Folder

*

*

You packed up and left the truck over an hour ago.

Sometimes if the moon is still bright you don't even

need a headlamp to make your way out to the area

where you want to set up. It's cold out but the long

walk with the pack on makes you sweat inside your

waders and under all the layers. As you set your

decoys in the still water surrounding your blind, your

body cools and you can feel the chill in the air again.

Finally, with everything complete, it's time to wait

for sunrise.Just before the first light of day you can

hear the whistle of ducks flying near you. Wondering

what they are is almost torture. Are they the fat

greenies you hope to see again at first light, or are

they another brand, something you have never seen

before? Not long now till you start to make out shapes

and can see a little bit better as the sun comes closer

to the horizon. Now, as the other creatures of the woods

wake up and start to move around, you know that the

time is here. Time to kill.

*

*

Circa 2006

Blech!

Well well well.  Look who's back.  The Hoy 7 Hunting Team.  I really thought you guys would have given up by now.  You babies had a boat last year and you thought it was going to be the bomb, slay machine the one thing that you thought was going to put this drunken debauchery over the top.   Come to find out you were too scared to even put it into the water.  Sound familiar?  Shower? Jeans?  And and this Clider guy. Who is he?  I see him.  Him with his million block's.  His new boat.  A dog. A DOG for Heston sake!  Really?  You guys think after what, 13 years your going to find me?!  My middle name is invisible.  

Anyway. I wish you luck it is always fun to elude you guys year after year, after year.  That's a picture of me by the way.  I was in Columbia for the winter.  Man never saw so much c-berf in my whole life, I think my heart stopped a few times.  Well that's a picture one of my buddies took of me while I was faced, that's some of my new bling.  Pretty dank eh?

  

Day 1, Part 1 of 2 of 1/2 of the Idaho Chapter

The dark is dark

I have been anticipating the first for quite awhile now, the boat has added to the excitement and the nervousness.  Bob was supposed to join me but last week he decided he'd rather work than go sailing on opening day, boats make him nervous.  Luckily my good friend Ken decided to join me for the first day of the season, with all his new gear as this is his first year ducking for real.  You might recognize Ken as the man who got a Norther Shoveler on his first/only hunt last season.

We loaded up the boat the night before and in the morning we set out for the Other Point.  With all the blocks we were still able to cram 2 people and a giant smelly dog in, after all, the more decoys the better.  We set out an impressive spread complete with the Jerk Rig Mark II and a small flock of geese.  We had the immediate area to ourselves and it was feeling like everything was coming together for a perfect hunt.

Blocks as far as the eye can see!

The Best flocking!

Ken manned the jerk and I did a little calling, waiting for the banded greenies to start funneling in.  Birds were on the move, and the spread was working perfectly.  Perfectly for seagulls.  We sat listening to the all out war that appeared to be breaking out on Round Lake. Sky blasters, no doubt gong through case after case of  shells, wounding countless birds.  We settled in and watched some high flyers, it started getting sunny and soon it was t-shirt weather.  We loaded the blocks back on the boat and headed back to the dock, figuring we'd stop by the point and do a little scouting for my first day out with Bob.  Anderson was completely deserted so we loaded the boat up and hit the road a little after 10:30.

It had been a great morning, the boat hadn't drown anyone, Peat stayed nice and warm, and we got to watch a few ducks move by.  I'm just a little curious about Round Lake now, it sounds crowded, but maybe not during the week?  As we pulled out of the boat ramp I noticed the preserve was completely full of birds, and they were moving back and forth between the little swamp areas.  Maybe we had time for a little hike into the Mud Swamp? Bob and I had hiked out that way last year and it's basically a continuation of the preserve that's legal to hunt, it's in the main flyway and had looked promising before. Part 2 soon...

Day One Oregon Chapter

Furlough scare of 2013, I actually thought that the government was trying to shut us down, and why not we are The Best.  Come to find out we hunt in a place called Lewis and Clark Park, not Lewis and Clark Refuge, which was closed due to Obama and his hate for guns and the working people.  I wonder if he hates the "cans" too.  First post of the season and I've already mentioned that we are the Best.  So we overcome that.  Next up, removal of a dam that floods the condos. Apparently Obama don't like no low income housing either.  With the removal of the dam it floods the slough even more than usual, good right?  Not when you have more hunters with less places to hunt from because of the flooding.

                                                                                               Clowns with Guns

Day One.  Cliffy and I decide to leave my house at 5 a.m.  Well, if we all know Cliffy, which we do, we know that the boy is punctual.  5 a.m. actually means 4:45 which is good cause nobody can sleep on the first day of hunting, nobody!  I load up and the conversation of how this is going to be the best year ever ensues.  Colder earlier, wetter, geese flying over my house in the middle of the night, Cliffy mentions the water is way down, colder, duck counts are up...What! Wait! Did you say the water is way low?  What happened to the mass flooding?  A river running through it? The perfect opening day on the island surrounded by water and green heads?  I guess that it has to rain for that scenario which it has not for some time.   Thanks Obama, global warming.

We pull into the lot.  One truck, two trucks, turn the corner three more trucks.  We are there two hours early to procure the island and there are already five trucks in the lot!  Does not look good.  Water down, five sets of hunters out before us, what the hell?  After a 30 minute hike we make it out to the water,  it all feels so familiar.  The early morning light of Camas shining on the river, the silhouette of the surrounding trees, the cool air on my face after a long hike in.  I stop a moment to soak it in, it feels good.  Hello old friend.

We pass a few hunters on the point on the way to the island, we really don't have any hopes of getting the island.  I see across from the island two guys setting up, I can see where we hunted last years opening day someone setting up, a large party on the point setting up, and an old man pushing a cart wearing sweat pants with a dog named Angel on the path out that we pass.  I don't see anyone on the island!  We wade out the 100 yards, this year more difficult than ever before.  The new river has dumped a lot of silt there so every step you take you sink 8 inches.  I'm the first to arrive, Cliffy still struggling with the silt laden water, and notice the water is going to be an issue, not enough.  We set up in a spot we don't think we are going to get "rained" on by the other two groups around us.  Our blocks look awesome, the water is going out fast and it makes our blocks appear that they are swimming.  Our blind, an old one from last year is refurbished pretty easily and we look good.  We're set.  

not actual picture of hunters

Rituals are taken care of, now we wait.  Being an hour early the rituals keep coming and coming.  We toast to our fallen soldiers of the past and the future.  We toast the Lord Heston and our Idaho chapter.  We bless the beautiful blind.  Morning breaks through the sky and the orange Mt. Hood light is turned on, it is time.   Not too long into the morning cil time a set of ducks fly through.  Good sign.  Toast again.  Then a set of merganser fly through, eluding us but headed to the clowns behind us.  Seconds later it is raining down on us, no pouring down on us.  I guess the early morning light played a little trick on our depth perception, the guys behind us are much closer than we thought.  Cliffy mentions that if we should have to take a leak we should walk in the other direction, good idea.  Well the clowns missed all three.  Clowns because they are just that.  They didn't know how to call and didn't know what they were calling at.  After a few more fly by's it gets quite.  We all know what brings them out though (if you read the blog you do) so we give that a try.  This is where I let Cliffy lay some storyage on y'all.  We give it a few more hours and pack it up and head back through the silt laden water.  All in all a great day.  We saw ducks, got the spot we wanted and a beautiful sunrise.  We're meeting at Sauvies Wednesday at  4 a.m.

Prepped and ready!

$250,000 blind construction.

Hunting season is close at hand and there's still work to be done.

With that in mind Clider and I headed out in the new boat to build us some blinds. I'm happy to say that the new boat is 2 feet longer and much wider than my old boat.  This makes for a more stable feeling ride and more room for the essentials, like thousands of decoys.  The GoDevil motor has been refurbished and seems ready to run forever.   I'm also happy to report that I no longer have to worry about the boat, it's Clider's job now.  The photo here shows the newly minted Captain and his first mate at the helm of the as yet un-named boat.  We were off to Anderson and loaded with all the gear to build blinds with one small exception, but who needs twine anyway?

First we turned downriver towards Lake Coeur d'Alene to see what was at the end of the river.  As it opened into the lake we were pleasantly surprised to find many spots on which to hunt.  Most of these needed only a pair of clippers to be ready to go, and not knowing exactly where the water would be when the time was right, we built nothing.  Tall reeds and grasses line the shoreline and the floor of the lake is solid and level, gradually sloping away from the land.  As long as the water (which was a good 2' deep) stays up for a while this area is in play.

Back at Anderson we first stopped at 'The Point'.  All the stakes and most of the twine were still in place from last year so we moved on, knowing that all that's needed is a good refill of cuttings the day of the first use.  Further down the shore line we came to 'The Blind'.  Here is where the main building needed to happen.  We put down 5 or 6 stakes in the water and hammered them to a good sitting level.  The large brush we cut from further down the shoreline and sunk into the ground with the aid of pilot holes and my sheer hugeness.  These will form a backdrop that we can fill with whatever grasses are matching the current conditions.  The problem that we have had with this blind is being seen from the backside as ducks are circling.  The saplings hopefully will cure that. With the addition of some twine and seasonal grasses we will be right at the waters edge for prime slaying action.  Let's hope the water stays up for a while.

Looks like nothing, right?

Another spot we hunted last year was on the other side of the lake from 'The Point' and I'm going to call 'The Other Side' from here on out.  Birds seem to like the area and last year we had a good couple of days there.  It's right next to the road and has super easy access but the lake floor there is sticky mud and slopes away from the shoreline quickly.  Not a problem if you know a dog named Peat.  I happen to know a dog named Peat, coincidence?  We looked around for the spot to drive in more stakes and realized that the cover on the short hillside was good all by itself.  All we had to do was go into the low scrub brush and cut out a spot for chairs and gear, the brush was the perfect height already.  Another blind ready to go.

After a quick motor back to the truck we were headed back home.  Along the way a bumper that holds the front of the boat in place on the trailer flew off and bounced over the car behind us.  Clider had to walk back down the road and find it and then worry the rest of the ride back if more things were going to fall off, like the boat.  Did I mention how happy I am that he has a boat and not me?  Now we are one step closer to opening day which is good, cause it's only a week away.

GBCH