Don't You People Post Anymore?

I mean really?
Nobody?
Nothing?
Not even something from the Cali Boys?
Anyone?
Buehler? ....Buehler? .....Buehler? .....Buehler?

Snow Day

The imminent attack

Once again, it's been snowing. Normally in these kind of conditions I would be headed out to the ole' ski hill to do some schussing. Last time out I must have done some damage to my knee in the process of falling down a snow covered hill and was not quite up to the task of 'schralping the gnar' as the kids call it these days. But don't cry for me, I had a fallback plan.

My mighty duck slayer

The drive to The Point was spectacular. Slow, slippery and pooping snow the whole time. The whole time! I had a new weapon for my walk out with me as well. The Boruit RJ-3000 to be exact. Forever to be known as the Worlds Most Powerful Headlamp. (sorry Chucker, there's a new game in town.) The world before me lit up like a nuclear blast as I started the walk out in the driving snow. Much like driving in the snow with your high-beams on I had to work down to the lowest setting to see past the thousands of snowflakes falling around me. Although I'm fairly sure if I had pointed this headlamp straight up I could have been mistaken for the light atop the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas, I kept it pointed ahead, and that's when I saw them. Two sets of glowing eyes sitting in the grasses out in front of me on the way to The Tip. One slightly higher than the other. A mother and child cougar lying in wait for me to struggle by them in knee deep snow on my way out. They were clear as could be even through the driving snow at a distance thanks to the Worlds Most Powerful Headlamp. I did not even have a cougar shell in the Benelli, and even if I did, there were two of them.

I kept looking down and then back up at those menacing eyes. Every step bringing me closer to certain death at the hands of these beasts. For all I knew they might even be snow leopards. It made perfect sense, it was snowing after all. I wondered if I could get my pack off in time to avoid being tackled into the deep snow and eaten alive. Blood shooting out of the holes in my jugular while they feasted on my still beating heart. Still I pressed on. Then, as I looked up again to the spot where they were, the eyes were gone.

When I passed the spot of cougar/snow leopard central I saw tracks loping out onto the lake. Sure, the tracks looked like two deer hoof-prints but I know how smart these killers are. They could easily disguise their prints as deer and murder me when my guard was down. I somehow made it to The Tip unscathed and set up my blocks. Those 20 minutes before the light came up were scary. I thought about how much I would miss hunting, skiing, my Sweetie, my friends and maybe even Clider. As it turns out the cougars let me live that morning and I settled in to wait for my chance to cil something. I covered my gear with a white sheet and made like a pile of snow but as it turns out nothing was flying or even anywhere in the general vicinity for that matter. I got cold, had to pee, knock the snow off my blocks, needed to stretch my legs and generally was bored when I heard my phone alert me to a text coming in from H7HT co-founder Fred G. It was at the exact moment I decided to stand up that the lone greenie, low and looking to land, flew right down the water line mere feet in front of me in the driving snow. An easy shot had I been where I was seconds before. He even made the wack wack wack call as he looked into my eyes and slowly peeled off to fly away. The only duck I saw all day.
GBCH

Just Another Day At The Point

The Pinny as landed.

Sure I had a tinge of regret for not talking to Clider last night when I decided to go hunting this
morning. I went powder skiing yesterday and was thinking of going again today but something just didn't sit well with me from the last time I was out on the lake. Some kind of unfinished business let's call it. Some unresolved need to see ducks fly into The Point the way I knew they should. Not only that, but I had no idea if there was even any open water there. The temperatures have been downright frigid here in the Inland Empire what with the 'arctic blast' going on and all.  I didn't want to subject him to going to a locked up icy nothingness. But I just had to try.

I left early. Early enough to brave the icy roads and be ready to break up all the ice that surely was locking up the water around The Point I even brought an axe. Imagine my surprise when I stopped on the bridge with my spotlight and saw dark water around the area I wanted to hunt. When I got there I was amazed that the channel was open and that the water had gone down to the level where I could even cross to The Tip if I wanted. I was setting out my jerk rig when the first set of three mallards tried to land on me. Two landed in the 3 blocks I had already set not more than five yards away and I watched the third try to land next to me. Literally next to me. I think if my headlamp was off I could have smacked him in the chops. It went like that for the next 10 minutes. Mallards everywhere. I was sitting in my spot drawing a bead on endless landing greenies, a full half hour before shooting time. By the time the bell rang they had moved on.

I missed on the first set of ducks and then watched six fat geese fly right over me. They were so close I could have thrown a beach ball and hit them. That's when I felt bad about not calling Clider. Fortunately the next set of ducks that flew in I was able to bead up the big one and drop him in the snow to my left. I saw the white belly as I shot but didn't realize he was a Pinny until I picked him up much later. I was waiting for the fat greenie that had come along after I shot. I missed again. Shortly after I was surprised by the ducks that swam up behind me and flared when I decided to work the ole' 4 / 2 factor.

The sun was shining and the ducks weren't flying so I waded over to The Tip and waited but noting much more happened. On the way out I pulled a Clider and stalked the channel. The goose was stupid and I could have ciled him but the drake was faster than my shouldering technique, while laden with pack, and I never got off a shot. I liked the fact that the river was even locked up and The Point was once again the only game in town. I made it home in time to take a nap and get ready to make duck bites for dinner.
GBCH

Hanging at The Tip

The Legend of Jenny X: Part 13

Regular readers of this blog know full well that New Hampshire redneck Jenny X is, among other things, the trap champion, master of camouflage, the father of extreme skiing and the original inspiration for the H7HT. Recently I received a note from Jenny and a couple pictures which I will share with you today.

Seems Jenny X just purchased a new Ford F150 with a snowplow attachment.  Does it even snow in New Hampshire anymore? Anyway, he now drives an aluminum snow crushing luxury truck. In addition to this it seems he also drives a 1966 Pontiac GTO as well. Not to be outdone by other GTO owners Jenny drives his GTO in the kitchen and does doughnuts in the family room, what a rebel! When I asked him why he does not own a 67 International Harvester Scout with a fully rusted lower end and a homemade snowplow he informed me that the NH redneck down the street that stole his tree stand also made off with his Scout. Way to go Jenny! Now go shoot a duck for Heston's sake, your dog is getting fat not retrieving ducks after all.

On a different note, I have a question to float out to the H7HT community.  last night I came home to find that my neighbor had plowed my driveway. Seems he has taken it upon himself to plow all the driveways in the circle with his ATV plow. (not a new f150, loser) I was upset. See, I like to take care of my shoveling/plowing needs. I like snow. I like being in snow. I like making piles of snow. I actually let the snow in my driveway pile up until I can use my snowblower to clear it. It brings me a sense of satisfaction to make nice clean lines at the edge of my driveway. What gives this mallaca the right to take away my snow time? What the heck?

My Sweetie thinks I'm a stubborn weirdo and when I talked to Clider he just thought I was an idiot. For some reason the city plows his parking spots in and he would love to have a neighbor plow him out. Too bad his neighbors are all illegal aliens, Idaho rednecks or Drew. Anyway my question is this, how can I tactfully stop this from happening? Would I sound like a skyblaster asking him to cease and desist? Do I stand in the driveway with my Benelli? It's snowing right now and while I'm at work this retired old man is likely out plowing my driveway. What the heck?
GBCH

Photo Poetry

The Blind

Snow Day

It's been snowing.
It's been snowing a lot.  But today Clider and I had no question where we wanted to be, Anderson Lake. Of course if the ski style mountain was open we would be there instead. After all, about 20" of snow fell in my driveway alone! The ride out was not nearly as bad as it could have been and by the time we got there it looked as if The Tip was the place to be.

before

Clider took a nice fall into the rocks on the way down and somehow got a piece of lumber stuck in his boot in the process but we made it out to The Tip with plenty of time to set a beautiful spread and settle on to the ice. In my mind we looked like two turds in a punchbowl but Clider assured me that we were invisible. In the long run we were fine because the ducks that were around last week were nowhere to be found today.  A few fliers came by but they wanted nothing to do with us.

after

We changed the decoys and we changed our blind but the end result was he same. No ducks wanted in. The few smarmy bastards that did come by avoided us like the plague that we were. I blame Peat. After a bit Clider took a walk, and I figured that it was my chance but, lo and behold, not even a Clider walk brought birds by.  We talked aboot how Fred G. has the best place to shoot ducks in the whole wide world and how we certainly would have better luck if Otis was with us, but in the end we just got cold and called it a day.  As a nice side note we stopped at the market on the way home and had a nice fresh sammy made for us by the friendly lady behind the counter. I bought a lottery ticket on the way back and when we win I will buy a nice Harrison house so that we could have slept in till the ducks showed up and warmed up before the ride home.  That and also to have a few extra million to spend.
GBCH

Oregon Chapter IV

Today I pick myself up by the bootstraps.  Can things get any worse?  I know that I invented the Hunting Umbrella but enough is enough.  The deluge of rain broke today and it was time to head out and make a name for myself.  With much encouragement from Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, I pack up the vehicle and head to the only place I know.  Water is up to a nice level, it's calm and cool.  I throw out a minimal spread locked together to start, I think if I'm seeing mucho pato I could mix them up later, something I learned on The Founders       Tour this year.  I build one of the best blinds I have built in a long time.  I had 40 minutes to spare so I cut out a spot within a hedge, filled it with as many branches that I could find that still had leaves, put my shadow grass scrim behind me weaved throughout.  I was looking really good Okay!  

Morning was very slow.  No morning fly only the 200 geese that I stirred up walking in by the Old spot.  Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, was on the telephone giving me words of encouragement.  I was about to send him a little love aboot the G. Men when I heard a hen off to the left.  Lord Heston give so I took, not what I'm there for but you have to make hay when the sun is shinning.  It's now past 10am and I am contemplating calling it.  Nothing has flied for hours.  

The weather turns.  Cold and rain, slight wind from the east.  I'm thinking it's a sign from Heston to stick it out, so I do.  Not minutes later a Tanker is flying right towards me, coming in low and slow.  It's completely white, and as I sit here today listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd and drinking a warm coffee beverage' I swear to you that I don't want to be the first member of the H7HT to fold a swan.  It lands 15 yards in front of me!  Right in front of me!  It's now swimming around my blocks, this thing is big.  My mind is racing.  Is it a swan?  Never seen a swan out here before I think to myself.  Now I am admiring it how beautiful it is and thinking even if it were a snow goose I wouldn't want to shoot it and bloody its beautiful down.  I am now doing my own version of the Mannequin challenge.  Well wouldn't you know it the thing puts its head behind himself and falls asleep, right there in my spread!  I'm thinking Heston has sent me the best live block ever.  It's pouring out.  It's going to happen any minute now I hear Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, voice in my head.  20 minutes at least goes by, it's dumping and there is a huge something in my spread.  Frustration.  I pull out my computer and ask it to give me identification for swan and snow goose.  It tells me it's a grey goose!  That's why I didn't recognize it, I drink Stoli.  I'm all aboot bloodying it's feathers now, hell I'm even thinking aboot the pillow I'm going to make! I wake the fool up with a light whistle.  He's now aboot 20 yards away facing the wrong direction, if he takes off there won't be a cil zone, I must wait for the perfect shot I don't want to risk winging it and swimming away.  Damn fool goes back to sleep.  I'm thinking how great this goose is going to look on the Christmas table.  Recipes are going through my head.  The shot never happens.  I waited 20 more minutes and it slowly swam out of shooting range.  The rain broke and I call it.  Head back to the car and met a nice woman that had a beautiful 4 1/2 year old Toller.  We chatted for awhile about how great he is, Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, you should get one, Christmas is coming.  

Another long post aboot nothing.  I did see some beautiful things today, and I did shotten a duck, unless Clider shotten it.

Proper Technique As Demonstrated By Clider.

Pointing, Shouldering, and Pulling the Trigger of a Shotgun

Pointing a Shotgun

• Because targets usually appear suddenly and move quickly, there’s no time to “aim” a shotgun. It’s designed to be pointed, with the eye sighting along the top of the barrel or rib.
• The sight is usually a bead on the front of the gun. Your eye must be in line with the barrel, so it’s important to position your head properly on the stock.
• When you bring the gun to your face, the stock should fit snugly against your cheek with your eye on that side above the centerline of the gun. If you can’t assume that position comfortably, you may need to adjust the “gun fit.”

Shouldering the Shotgun

• When you bring the shotgun to your shoulder, the stock should be brought to your cheek first and then back to your shoulder.
• A common error is lowering the head and cheek to the stock, instead of bringing the stock all the way up to the cheek. When done properly, with your head naturally erect, the gun butt always should come to the same spot on your shoulder.

Pulling the Trigger

• Unlike rifle shooting, quick trigger action is important when hunting with a shotgun. Slap the trigger rather than squeezing it.
• Because the trigger is pulled quickly and the body and gun are typically in motion, breath control isn’t necessary.
• Continue the shotgun’s swing as you pull the trigger. Stopping the swing as you shoot will cause you to hit behind a moving target.

Have You Ever Seen a Dog More Disgusted?

Not a single retrieve this year.

That's My Story, And I'm Stickin' To It.

One of many I shotten today

It all started well, hunting yesterday, not seeing much, scouting the birds at The Point, heading 

out early this morning. Heck, we were so early in fact that we had tons of time freshen up The Point with some new grasses and brush. The set looked good and all the birds we saw the day before were further up the lake. Things were flying. Clider chose to take a walk and warm up and I promised to shoot all the ducks that came into our decoys while he was gone. He must have put up 100 birds when he shotten down the lake but nothing really wanted to land by me so I tried our new tactic of changing up the look of the blocks and added the spinner. Sure enough, a greenie wanted in. He liked it so much he ended up staying.

Clider returned and left again, keeping himself and Peat warm while I held down the fort. By now greenies were just appearing out of nowhere and coming in smartly. I missed again and again and again by not shouldering my gun properly or being preoccupied with something other than shooting ducks. I got very frustrated at my ineptitude so it was a huge relief when I finally shot my second greenie of the day. Things were going well, but the day was about to get ugly.

Both of us were in the blind now and the action was terrific. I can't remember a day when The Point was working so well. The birds were almost all mallards and they liked what they saw. It was clear and cold and fairly windy. The perfect day to identify decoying ducks. The greenie came in from the right and I quickly snapped off a shot that missed. My second shot was right on point and the greenie dropped immediately. I know that I can't match Cliders totals so I looked over and gloated that at least I could shoot more greenies than he did today. That's when it happened. He looked over in all seriousness and stated that it was he who shot the greenie. What? Two shots from me, I had the hulls piled up around me to prove it, and one dead duck. What a little liar!

Should be five right?

It was tense in the blind, having to sit so close to an obvious sham artist and all. We agreed that the next downed greenie would claim my bird just to keep the peace. It couldn't have been more than 5 minutes later when a flock of mallards wanted in. A hen and drake were landing and I beaded him up and shot and dropped him. Again Mr. Filthy Liar claimed that he shot what was clearly my bird. In the end we each took one home although I'm sure that there was no way I didn't shoot both.

Birds stopped coming around and I had shotten through all my shells and some extras I found on the ground as well. A badly wounded henny landed in my ducks and also returned home with me. If only my 'friend' could shoot as well as I do maybe next time he can shoot some ducks too.

GBCH

Peat: The Spoiler.

With no prior scouting Clider and I ended up at The Blind. The arctic blast is on and things are starting to freeze up. We contemplated The Point but the water looked open and I forgot my chair, so The Blind it was.  The ice had started to form so we set the jerk rigs and little else out to the left in open water. Morning birds came in waves and the clear starlit sky was beautiful. Unfortunately for us not much wanted to move after shooting time arrived.

We broke ice, moved the decoys and worked the birds that did come near us. Clider had no problem bringing down a fat goose that came in from behind us. I ducked so he could shoot behind us and his lone shell bounced off my head right before the thud of a massive goose landing on the ice made me look up. The big tanker was mere feet away. Peat, aka the spoiler, gingerly walked over and checked out the bird before Clider brought him in.  Not much happened after that and we put off pulling up after some birds starting moving.

Peat decided that he would be more comfortable if he was in my lap being pet so he wrangled his fat body into my space. Just then I saw the lone bird locked in and coming from my side. I knew it was coming in because I had all the time in the world to watch with 100 lbs of spoiler in my lap. Of course I played the good teammate and told Clider, who immediately dropped the bird. That was the action of the day. At least it was just a hen mallard.

On the way home we took the back road and scouted The Point where we saw bunches of ducks right where they never are. They were in the bay, channel and right out front, all in the cil zone.  We are headed there tomorrow.
GBCH

Duck Confit

Ingredients

• 4 skin-on, bone-in duck legs
• 2 tablespoons Chinese five spice
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 5 sprigs thyme
• 4 garlic cloves, crushed
• 4 cups duck fat (lard can be substituted or a combination of bacon fat and lard)

Directions

1. Using the tip of a knife, prick duck leg skin all over. Rub with five spice, salt, sugar and pepper. Place in a dish, cover, and refrigerate for 8 hours or over night. Remove from refrigerator 1 hour prior to braising and cover with warm water.
2. Preheat oven to 250°F. Wash dry rub off of duck legs and pat dry. Arrange duck, skin side down, in a roasting pan, or large Dutch or French oven. Add garlic, thyme, and duck fat or lard.  Cook until the meat is tender and the bones easily wiggle when pulled, 1.5 - 2.5  hours.
3. If not using duck right away store in fridge in duck fat.

The Rain Song. Oregon Chapter part II

(no pictures due to the driving rain)

Cliffy and Waylon pick me up at 5:30 to head out to our awesome spot out on the Columbia.  We make it to the gate and out to the  water, I set up a sweet blind on the Point a few doors down from the CFTK day.  Cliffy sets a great spread. We hunker down and wait for the opening bell trying to keep whatever we can dry.  Clider glides by in his kayak and Waylon wants him for a retrieve.  Ducks are everywhere.  Mallards dropping into our spread and then the bell goes off.  Just after the bell a set of green head bastards and their bitches drop in, Cliffy raises his fire arm and drops a green head bastard and his woman with two swift shots, Waylon knows what to do and does.  Another fine double retrieve by the pup.  My turn I'm thinking.  Then another set drop in, three in two leave, the pup is now working overtime and brings me back a green head bastard, what a sight.  This is the day we have been waiting for.  The weather is pushing ducks down from the north, it's like it's working by itself.  The driving rain is cold and a soaking us but we don't care. We are in the middle of it and it is great!  Widgeon are everywhere! 8 drop in from the left where I am sitting but I'm not there for Greenies half bi-polar cousins but it was just took easy and tasty, I raise my Italian harpoon and take two with three shots, both drakes. Did I mention that it is going off!  You can see that it  is starting to snow in the higher elevation, what more could happen?   Starting to seem as though it's drying up even though the rain is pounding us.  Cliffy's second set of gloves are soaked I'm chilled to the bone and so is the pup.  I decide to walk over to the cove with the pup to see if anything is doing.  I'm gone five minutes and I hear Cliffy calling with the whistle, they love the whistle.  I don't know how many widgeon there were but I did see one fall from the sky.  Waylon immediately leaves my side, he knows where he's needed.  I continue to the back side of the cove.  The rain and wind are blowing in my face.  I sneak around the corner and spy a his and hers trying to hide from the H7HT and get out of the blustery weather.  I jump them and the hen is in the front but today is her lucky day, I'm here to pass judgement on her man and so I do.  I sentence him to death.  I make it back to the blind and Cliffy is just smiling.  I notice that there is an "extra" duck in the blind.  Great he shotten a 2fer.  This day is totally unbelievable.  Possibly the best day ever had by the H7HT in Oregon.  Ducks are still flying, but nothing seems to want to commit anymore.  What did I learn on the Founders Tour?  Change the spread, so I did.  With the weather so bad I huddle the blocks together and even pull some out.  About 10 minutes later 6 green head bastards drop in and 4 leave, a team slay!  What hasn't this day had?  About 45 minutes passes and now it truly is drying up, the sun is breaking through and it seems like a good time to pull it up while the rain has stopped, plus we are chock full of ducks to clean.  I get home brew a pot of coffee drop in some baileys and clean some ducks.  Now reality sets in.  See 11.13.16 and insert here.

Cataldo Slough Part IV- The Recrushening

Temps are dropping, and snow is starting to accumulate around town.  It's too wet to ride bikes, and there's just barely enough snow to take a few runs.  But a storm is brewing, and soon skiing will be at the top of the priority list, so time to slay while the slaying is good.

Otis scouted on Friday and decided that the way far back part of the slough was the place to be.  We headed out with some extra time to make the extended paddle.  I was armed with my new kayak paddle, a throw away from a friend.  We shot through the pipe again, it's a blast and I'd recommend it to anyone.  Once out on the South side we transitioned from water to a half inch of slushy on top of the water, soon there was no open water in sight and I started to wonder if this was going to work.  It was cold and snowing lightly, the thought of breaking ice all the way back was weighing heavily on my mind as we finally popped out into some open water.

We had our small spread of 6 ducks and 8 geese planted quickly.  It was time to cut some grass and pull our camo nets over ourselves and the boats.  We were laying back in our boats, nestled up into the flooded grass, it was five minutes to shooting time.  The mallards started to circle and drop in, dozens of them, and close.

It was at this time that someone decided to drive their mud buddy equipped boat into our spread and blind us with a light bar.  They wanted to know who we were, how we got there and if they could hunt with us.  It was now legal shooting time and the birds were desperately trying to get in, birds were everywhere dozens within fifty feet of us.  I reluctantly told them our names after some silence, and Otis said they could hunt with us if they ditched the boat.  They had a pretty crappy attitude for people that were royally screwing up our day.  After a snarky comment or two they took off and headed to the other side of the slough, where they didn't take a shot for the rest of the day.  We would have been fine with them hunting with us, but grilling while we're sitting there blinded by their lights, and scaring everything off was a bit much.

A few minutes after our kickass locals took off, a flock of six or seven mallards came in from directly behind me, they were only about four feet above my head and scared the crap out of me.  Otis was about fifty feet away and not scared.  He dropped a hen and a drake stone cold dead about twenty feet in front of him.  After another set of birds coming in and two missed shots, I decided to move near Otis and turn the boat around.  Laying in your boat allows you a very small viewing area, so lots of times the birds are only 20 feet away before you know they're there.  I've had a little practice shooting from my layout blind, but I've got a lot of work to do on the act of sitting up and shouldering.  Otis had another opportunity and dropped his second henny of the day, again landing just a few feet away.

The rest of the day consisted of half hour to forty five minute

breaks where nothing is flying, and then ten to fifteen minutes of action.  A single drake came in from the right, Otis shot and knocked a couple feathers off but he was picking up speed and altitude.  Otis couldn't swing any further from his position, so I took a shot and dropped him. Otis had another set come in and dropped his second greenie just outside the spread. A few more sets came and went, getting within shooting range but not committing.  I shot and  missed on a pretty solid  opportunity on a crossing pair.  About an hour later another pair cam in straight at me, fully committed, I waited until they were about eight feet off the water and solidly hit the drake. My follow up shots knocked a few feathers off the henny with effect.

Another hour went by with a mix of geese and ducks coming by, a few checked us out but many passed high overhead.  Otis had a set nearly land on him and managed to take another greenie, I didn't see them until Otis shot, at that point it was too late for me to do anything but watch.  A half hour later another set scared Otis as they came in from behind him, I saw them right before they were about to land and managed to get my third and final greenie of the day.  We moved ourselves and our spread quite a bit throughout the day, and we never had an opportunity to shoot at the same time besides that single greenie.  It was a lot of fun besides the whole awkward stand off thing in the morning, but even that wasn't too bad in the end.  I don't know if days like this are going to become the norm, but I'm sure enjoying and appreciating them now.  Otis shot five mallards, and he didn't lose a single one, things are looking up.

Mega post

When your day job involves sitting  at a computer and typing all day, posting can seem daunting.  So, I waited until I had a relaxing evening with some refreshing beverages to sit back and tell my stories.  Unfortunately it's been so long now my memories are fading a little, so I'm relying on photos heavily for this.  It looks like I posted on opening day, so here goes the rest of it.

After opening day was in the books, I decided to go to Swan Lake to crush the massive flocks of birds I knew were dying to go home with me.  After navigating the foggiest conditions I have ever experienced, and getting lost on the lake twice, we(I) set every mallard decoy I owned near the entrance to the lake along with some geese, we then settled in for the morning fly.  I connected with the first two birds to come in shortly after shooting light, two hen mallards in two separate flights.  I don't know how many birds I passed on after that due to concerns about going over the henny limit.  I did manage to drop a greenie right in the spread though, I remember that, it was satisfying.  After a while it became walking time, I went on an extra long one and put the drop on a large flock of mallards on the next point over.  A greenie was carefully selected so that no hens would be at risk. I booglie bood them and got my man. As Peat was doing his duty, the flock came back and I managed to drop another greenie into the center of the bog.  We headed out in the boat and managed to locate the bird in the middle of thick weeds and deep mud, a perfect cap to a long day!

Melissa (AKA the Skirt) decided to join me for a day at the blind.  Having never shotten a shot gun, or having been in a duck blind before she easily blasted a greenie with her only shot ever.  Turns out duck hunting is easy.  I decided that ripping it's head off was a good way to finish her first bird, so I did that.  I also decided to miss everything else that came in.  There was weather that day, wind if I remember right.  Melissa now owns camo waders and has a long term loaner shotgun, I imagine you'll be seeing more of her in the future.

Captain Sean Micheal Murphy offered to take me for a spin in an aeroplane, so we flew up the chain lakes and checked out the area from 1,000 feet above.  It was really cool, and got me super excited to go murdering at Swan lake. In the morning Peat and I headed out and set up in the same spot as before, and just like last time I crushed it.  Greenie after greenie fell into the spread.  I limited out on banded drakes and headed back just 45 minutes after shooting.  It was a bummer to put in the driving and boating time, for just 45 minutes of action.  Wait, no, these pictures actually tell me that it was sunny and there were no birds anywhere at all.  I think I took a nap and got a sun burn....

Somewhere in here is a half told story from Bob D, the former co-expert.  He said I'd finish it, and I'm not going to make a liar of him.  It was a busy day, he shoten two greenies with a single shot, and I pulled a single greenie out of that same batch.  I also was a total asshole and got my first NR in over a year, it made me sad.  I did feel redeemed a bit by pulling off a two shot double on a pair of wideon that were blasting through our spread going mach schnell.  According to pictures I also shotten a few hennys, luckily Bob D took care of what was almost my 3rd hen mallard for the day.  There is also another hen wideon in there.  I was having a pretty solid day minus the NR, we both talked about how great we were on the way back to the car, it was great.

Melissa was back for another day out, and this time we headed to Cave Lake.  We set up just west of where I spent opening day.  The birds weren't really working much, but I managed to drop a greenie and a henny over the course of the day, despite a lot of missing.  It was a beautiful day, Peat hated wading in the muck.

The Cataldo Slough is bisected by scenic I-90,  Otis advised that I go out and shoot some birds there, so I went.  After stepping into four feet of water instead of 6 inches, I took my 4 floating decoys and the dog stand out with me, abandoning the shells and full bodies I had packed out.  It was really cold, really wet, really exhausting, and really pretty.  I got a few pictures of a pretty sunrise and went home.

The Cataldo Slough part deuce, the deadening.  I walked out and Otis kayaked, it's not as deep in some areas, which is nice to know.  There were no birds at all, we went home.

The Founders Tour was awesome.  Despite the low duck counts, we had a good time due mostly to the amazing menu and stellar accommodations.  Also confirmed that the spread needs to be adjusted if birds are not committing.

Otis and I hunt on Thanksgiving every year now, this year Melissa, Otis and I hunted on Thanksgiving.  We headed to our new super secret spot, the swamplands right after you cross the river.  Turns out that is totally huntable, and walkable.  Otis had seen some birds here the day before, so we headed about half way out into the marsh and set up.  Before we had our guns loaded there were birds darting back and forth above our heads, we were a few minutes late and missed some pretty good opportunities.  After a few missed shots we settled in and waited for the goosies.  I ended up heading to the trail of the cda's to pull my socks up and was just sitting down to do so when the geese arrived.  They were getting ready to land on Otis who was now 150 yards away.  He dropped two birds and I was able to pick off a third as they made their escape.  Otis was only able to locate one goose, even with the three of us looking for quite awhile.  I missed some more, and then we went home.

Canada Turkey

I bought a Kayak, I have no Kayaking experience.  Heck I didn't even get a paddle, I'm borrowing a canoe paddle.  Black Friday rules!

The Cataldo Slough part III, Blood Bathening. This actually happened today, current post!  I went scouting yesterday and noticed some geeses on the slough, Otis was back in town and I was itching to try out my new boat.  We launched, and my very first experience was to pass through the pipe under the freeway.  It's about 5 feet around and a couple hundred feet long, and it ramps downward as you hit the halfway point.  Super fun, you kind of rocket out the far end in the dark, Bob D would love it.  We set our spread, 6 goose floaters near me, a spinner and 4 ducks near Otis, 150 yards away.  Otis cracked off two shots at shooting time and so did I.  He knocked down a henny and a greenie, I missed.

Birds were committing left and right.  A few minutes later I dropped a greenie, and then another, and a third over the course of an hour.  I had a jerk rig but no blocks near me, so I hooked up two of my greenies to the clips and that's when they really started to want in.  A few minutes after adjusting the spread a greenie locked up and came gliding in, I acted in self defense and clobbered him with a single shot at about twenty feet. At this point Otis had taken up a spot just around the corner from me about 50 feet away.  There was a large cloud of feathers hanging in the air still when the geese came around the corner, I missed but Otis dropped two.  I did a lot of missing from here on out due to bad decisions, bad technique, and trying to operate the jerk rig in dense cover right up until it was time to shoot.  Mallards were all over us and in large floacks.  We had groups of fifteen to twenty five near our spread fairly often.  Otis managed to knock down two more mallards, a hen and a drake.  I went on a little walk and while I was out Otis managed to drop another goose.

The birds stopped decoying at this point so I pulled my jerk rig of horrors up and re-positioned the geese, we then both moved over near Otis' little spread.  Within a few minutes a lone suicidal greenie came in and Otis cleaned his clock.  We had another greenie land a few minutes later, one of a large flock that refused to land with him.  Once they made it clear they wouldn't commit I jumped him and barely got him with the second shot.  At this point I have to disclose that Otis may have lost a greenie, a hen, and a goose.  The goose dove down and tangled up, the other two glided off into the bushes, this seems to be a theme with Otis. To be fair, he isn't sky blasting, these were all pretty close shots.  It's just this thing Otis is really into right now.  Grandpa Clyde would hate Otis. Today was one of the best days of hunting I've ever had, lots of locked up greenies, I even started passing on hennies in search of a greenie limit.  I feel like a real expert right now, just need to work on my gun pointing skills.

Meat Shopping

Cyber Monday? Doubtful.

The holiday season is upon us and all the good consumers of The Merica' are out shopping for things they need. Well, I needed a little peace and quiet. The forecast called for snow and cold and what better way to take advantage of Cyber Monday than getting up extra early to drive through a snow storm to a duck blind? I woke to rain and no snow but by the time I got to the highway exit my luck changed. The roads got worse and I realized that I need better tires on the Jeep, but even with the slush I made it to The Blind with plenty of time.

Early morning perfection

The conditions were perfect and I made an effort to not disturb any snow cover as I set my decoys and settled into the blind. Dakotas looking great and the jerk rig was stretched out to nearly max length. The water was still so I knew that the jerk rig would come in handy and I planned on using it more than my calls. The recent article I read about changing up your calls (not your calling but your actual calls) made me break out 'ole raspy' for the day. I have been less than impressed by the effect my calling has so I figured to try more motion, less calling. The Blind looked great, matching all the other snowy reeds, and I tucked myself into the corner.  I even brought my white cover jacket to match the part snow, part reeds look that surrounded me. Once again I was invisible.

Unfortunately my invisibility made no difference. The ducks just weren't near me. I had a passing shot on a widgeon that I missed and another couple that flew by to take a look I didn't see until too late. In fact, the only good shot I had was the 5 ducks coming in that I missed because I was texting. I had the phone in my hand and pulled the trigger while still holding it so it wouldn't be dropped into the water. Obviously I missed. Not long after the rain/snow stopped I pulled up and headed back for a sammy and a chance to retrieve my Mojo charger from the palatial estate we had stayed at last week. It was incredibly difficult to overcome all the security measures built into the home but somehow I prevailed.

On the way home I started feeling guilty about not asking Clider if he wanted to join me but later I got a text from him implying that he had slayed some ducks somewhere else today. Maybe he should feel guilty about not asking me? Well, there's always next week.

GBCH

Founders Tour 2016-2017

The Altar

As you all know by now, the Founders Tour is a time when the OG's gather in the Idaho for a week of cilling pato and solving the world problems. This year when Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, picked me up at the airporto there was much promise in the air.  Frigid temperatures, rain and snow were in the forecast.  After getting our supplies in Spokane we head to the cabin to gather our gear, which Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, so graciously stores for me, for our next day slay.  We head out to the Point for an OG slay day, it's chilly with no overcast and the harvest moon is bright.  We set a great spread and settle in for the mass amount of ducks that are going to be dropping in any time now.  The morning fly before cilling time was great, the world was waking up with a little frost on it's belly and wanting to warm up.  There was a shot that brought  down some feathers but that is it,  as soon as it started it was over.  We pack up our blocks and anticipation for the next day.  Another fantastic day.  On our way back to the cabin Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and I stop by our new digs to see what kind of provisions we will need for our three night stay.  The cabin is perfectly stocked with everything we need.

Waiting For the Mass Amount of Ducks

The next day Clider joins us and we hunt the Blind.  The water is up to levels that I have never seen before.  Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and Clider built an A-1 blind complete with a bench that puts you right into the action.  We unpack our Blocks and Anticipation with some promise of Fowl weather.

Definition of Fantastic Day-

A fantastic day is a day that you spend with your buddy watching mother nature, talking aboot world events and solving the world problems, and maybe seeing some ducks.

Bob Da Folder, Deucey Champion,
Taking the 5th

With another exciting pre morning fly behind us it is time to do what we came here for.  The weather was cooperating, slight drizzle to full on rain with a mix of wind, perfect. Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, was the first to fold a drake widgeon, he's now tied for Expert status.  Clider drops a drake widgeon.  Clider is now the Expert!  What a season un-Folding right before my very eyes, it's on! I get into the action and take a drake to pull me out of the negative and into even at "0".  He was one tuff dude, I dropped him with a breast shot that spewed blood in slow motion.  When he wen't down he had the energy of a man leaping over a small creek with a Mossberg in his hands wearing jeans. I put two more shots into him, no effect, swimming away.   Clider was not going to have any of this disrespect, not in this Blind.  Clider jumped out of Blind and was after him putting three more into him, finishing the job.  The weather was perfect, it's looking like this week is going to be great.  Many stories swapped a few walks taken, some shottens taken at Greenie and missed.  Then out of nowhere a drake Teal flies in at mach speed and Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, drops it in its flight path! He's now tied for Expert status!  This is unbelievable! But wait, the drakes woman is right behind him and Clider puts her with her man behind the bench, still tied at co-Experts.  The day is getting long,  with a warm 19th century pot belly stove stoked with white oak waiting for us, we decide to give it another 20 minutes.  Well in that 20 minutes a made for t.v. National Geographic special on migration of ducks starts playing out in front of us on life's big screen.  Ducks everywhere!  Waiting for the most opportune time was key.  A fat bottomed hen mallard drops in and with 2 3/4inches of ruffianly love she is down, easy-peasy retrieve for Peter the Butt.  We pack up, Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and I head back to the deluxe cabin on the lake, to clean Clider's ducks. Clider heads back to the big city to sell his Ninja Turtles.  

Widgeon Doing the 5K

Clider meets us at the parking lot in the morning to hunt the spacious blind at the Point.  The morning weather  brings us nothing special, where had all that ducky weather that we experienced yesterday gone?  With the non- weather brought non-ducks.  Another day of watching nature.  We head home and head to the local drinking hole for some burgers, beers and foosball.  After the delish lunch we  drop off Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and head out for some scouting.  We head out to Round lake and find five thousand wigeon feasting on the lakes offerings.  What a sight, it was if the lake was boiling, the sound was deafening.  We found the spot where we all shall take our limits tomorrow.  We head back to the cabin and find Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, with Tom Foolery and have a night of good food, stories, and debauchery.

The next morning came early. After an easy hike in we put up make shift blinds and throw out a spread.  Settle in and wait for the five thousand birds to fly over our spread  to take our limits.  Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and I sat in peace, nothing.  Waiting for Clider to come back from another  one of his epic walks Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and I decide to call it,  we decide that it would be nicer to do and evening fly at the Blind.  Lo and behold Clider makes it back to us, alive, with another drake widgeon, the new Expert.  After giving Clider a respite from his epic journey we head back to deluxe cabin by the lake. We refuel, do some modest cleaning, pack the truck with our belongings, and head to the blind.  We set out a minimal set of blocks and enjoyed a blue bird evening.  

Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, and I make it home for some MNF, clean sheets and  showers.  We decide that we will take Tuesday off do some shooting at the dump, sightseeing and some junk shopping.  I found many great deals on some vinyl.  That evening we  decided to play some Deucey and enjoy some delish sauce and ramble over the weeks events.  Another great Founders Tour.  I even made it to the airport 2 hours before my plane took off.

This is where Clider works

Founders Tour 2016

It's that time of the year again when Oregon comes to Idaho.  Unfortunately this year Cliffy was unable to attend.  His new job dancing around a candy factory with giant lollipops in his hands and edible office equipment and cartoon co-workers was just too delicious to pass up. We missed you Cliffy & Waylon.  So, it was just Fred G. who showed up and of course we did our best to cradle him in the lap of luxury.

With so many stories to tell, and my teammates bursting at the seams to post on this very blog, I will concentrate this post on describing our Harrison vacation spot.  It's classic H7HT. As you remember we were able to secure a rustic home built in 1917 very close to our hunting grounds on Anderson lake.  Fred and I stopped on the way back from the airport and picked up the keys from the nice lady who owns the home. The keys came with a roll of packing tape (more later) and the directive that we could eat any foods there and partake of any adult beverages we would find.  What a great start, right?

We hunted the first day and stopped by the cabin to check and see what we might need for the following 3 nights we were going to spend there.  Then, back to my home to pack, enjoy some fine Chinese food and get a good nights rest.  The next day we hunted again and retired to the first of 3 nights in the charming hamlet of Harrison.  Fred G prepped the kitchen surfaces while I added layers of comfort to some of the multiple bedding and seating surfaces.  We had a great wood burning stove for warmth and a music system to rival the finest record studios.  We also chose to pass on the offer of free liquor, who knew that CostCo made tequilla?   After dinner we slept in total and complete comfort.  Clider joined us the following day.

He too was impressed with the accommodations and Peat was so pleased the he chose a couch to make his own while we were out.  That night the dinner was designed to never have to touch any kitchen surfaces just so that we could keep the pristine nature of the counters and surrounding areas as found.  I used the packing tape to reinforce the security system of the back door and we spent the night in splendor once again.

After the next days hunt we balked at yet another night in Harrison.  Too much of a good thing can spoil a hunter.  We packed and left. For some strange reason Fred had opted not to use the shower facilities while there and I contemplated throwing out the sheets and blankets that I had brought.  Even Peat was likely relieved to get back home.  We returned the keys without contacting the owners, but when we had picked them up she let me know if we would write a review she would knock the cost of a nights stay off our fees.  I chose not to because strangely enough the only thing that came to mind was a pack of matches.

Another oddity is that we chose to take no pictures of the home, sometimes just the memories are the best way to reminisce. In lieu of an interior pick I have included a picture of one of the days hunting exploits. GBCH

Poetry

Thick fog outside,

 40 degrees.

Long walk to the water.

My age is starting to creep up on me,

With a heavy pack I'm feeling old.

The sky starts to lighten,

Black turns to rose.

My heart starts to beat faster, 

My energy and strength are renewed.

I see ducks in the distance, 

Starting their morning flight,

I no longer notice the deep water.

As I keep the ducks in my sight, 

Slowly I start to call.

They turn my way,

Spy my blocks,

The safety they display.

They circle once,

Then twice.

They drop their gear,

They are going to land.

What joy it brings.

Seven feet from the water,

Just before they land,

I bring my Benelli to my shoulder,

Steady it with my hands.

I squeeze the trigger slowly,

Let my steel fly.

My aim is true,

My shot is perfect,

I watch the ducks fall from the sky.