Three Days of Hunting.

Or, "Two of Three Days We Thought Clider Had Surely Died."

Anticipation

The week long hunting trip this year was canceled due to my redirected vacation time, but that did not stop Fred G from traveling out to the great state of Idaho this year.  After all, he does most of his Greenie shooting out here and wanted to leave with a comfortable lead in the 'Expert' title department.  I picked him up at the airport with more than enough daylight for an easy trip to Anderson for an afternoon hunt.  He arrived wearing all his layers and stone sober from the flight.  Instead I took him to Cabellas, the wikki store and the grocery store and then home to sort decoys and find our guns from their summer hibernation.  Clider came over after a bike ride and we made plans for the following day. I didn't even have ice!

The Point was in order for the first day of my season and we left early so that we could set up and rebuild the blind.  Other hunters have been using our hides because water is low in other parts of the Chain Lakes so needless to say, changes had to be made.  We spent $14,680 and put out a fine spread.  The pre-shooting hour flyovers and the sheer number of ducks and geese making a racket out on the water made it seem to be a promising day. The first shooting opportunity waited until Clider took a walk to distract Peat from the fact he had nothing to retrieve.  We seem to feel it was a canvasback simply from the majestic way if floated into our spread and refused to jump up and fly away after repeatedly giving him the ole' Boogilie boogilie boo.  He swam off before Clider returned so he was skeptical.  I went like that for pretty much the rest of the day.  Clider takes a walk and scares up some ducks. Nobody shoots anything.  Peat takes a nap. Etc.

Day 2 found us going to The Blind and bringing with us the Armada of duck and goose decoys that Clider has had littering his basement for the past couple years.  He traveled in the boat with decoys while Fred, Peat and I walked out light as a feather and without a moose shell in our chambers.  We all set blocks in a random but planned fashion and then went to work on The Blind, which needed some work to blend in with the current surroundings. The most notable new thing at The Blind was the incredible volume of wet mud inside the perimeter.  It ate chair legs and boots with equal disdain. I was in the middle and sank at least 4 inches in with every sit.  It's almost amazing that shortly after shooting time I was able to jump up and blast a hen widgeon so spot on that Peat was reluctant to even retrieve it.  Less suprising is that when the first greenie came in Clider missed and Fred forgot that your safety needs to be off in order to shoot.  They then both fired at the same time and team slayed the first greenie of the year.  I owe them each $5 which I somehow forgot to pay Fred before he left.  What a dick!

Another duck was shotten but I forget by who.  I was too busy sinking into the mud while my blind mates had learned how to reline into the brush and become comfortable.  I took a walk and found an old barge that gave up some 2X8 lumber to make a bench, and then another to make a footrest. Our feet were warm for the first time all day. It cost a cool 10K for each board but it was totally worth it. The sun shone and the ducks settled into somewhere other than where we were so it was time for Clider to take a walk.  He disappeared for hours.  We decided he was dead so we called it and started to pull up blocks.  Turns out he had walked to The Point and back to randomly shoot at nothing.  We had a sammy and headed home.

Day 3 started with 2 inches of snow on the Jeep and spirits were positive for a great day just like the one years ago when the snow and wind had brought mucho patos from the sky to the grill.  The plan was to go to an all together new area but we returned to The Blind knowing full well that that was where all the birds would be going.  Less decoys and better seating greeted us at The Blind but strangely few shooting opportunities presented themselves.  It wasn't until Clider sped off in the boat that the wind picked up to gale force.  He was gone so long the only possible outcome was that he had capsized and drown so, once again, we started spinning up all the decoys and packed the blind in time for his improbable return.  A sammy in Harrison on the way home and sadly it was all over.

That night Fred G. attempted to "teach me how to fish" by learning me in the ways of making my favorite meal ever, the Sauce.  We also prepared for this lesson by drinking a bottle of Jack so it's clear that I have forgotten the process but what I won't forget it the giant winds that knocked out the power and let us finish the cooking by candle light.  Dinner and delicious wine that night with a fire blazing in the fireplace and candle light lighting the cabin was my personal favorite part of yet another great trip.  Praise Heston!