Yesterday, Fred and myself ventured out to the mighty Columbia to take a crack at getting our final CIL(s) in for the 2015-2016 migratory waterfowl season. A day I will always remember.
The morning started at out as usual, me picking up Fred at 5:30 in the morning. This time, and the first time ever, I was late and not the usual 15 minutes early. You see, I had the awesome experience of dining at the Old Spaghetti Factory via a gift card that needed to be used up and to say the least, nothing sat well with my stomach. While trying to keep on time, I kept having to run from getting ready in the garage to the bathroom. After picking up Fred, who was waiting patiently in his driveway, we stopped off at the market so I could grab some liquids to try and rehydrate on the drive out. Just as we pull in to the parking lot another truck arrives and the hunter approaches us (on his Cannonade mountain bike) giving us the low down on the water levels and what is flooded and commenting that with the little available dry land that we should maybe hunt together. Seriously John John (the new deemed hunters name), you think we need your report on what conditions are like or think we need your expertise in our blind? We're the H7HT! You know, THE BEST.....EVER! Pfff, rookies. Then I puked again.
Dragging ass, we finally make it to the final stretch before peeling off the dog walker's highway when we see John John riding his bike in the opposite direction. Turns out, he has to make 2 trips because he can't carry his gun, waders and blocks in one. Once again, pfff rookies. With my last breathe, we reach the $6 blind that Fred and I built on the first day of KFTK. Ducks (plural, many) were cruising at an extremely low altitude, even landing in the spread that Fred was still in the water setting as I was sprucing up the blind on the only dry spot there was. Come cillin' time and puking while holding my butt cheeks together so as not to fill my waders with ass vaumit, John John finally made it out and was setting up right next to us as I'm sure he had read our minds about being THE BEST......EVER. I was holding on to the 'antsy' Waylon with all the ducks flying and what not, but when he heard noises next to us and wanted to inspect, he pulled me straight out of my chair causing an extremely uncomfortable muddy and wet experience. Shortly after, we had a small group of Pintails buzz our spread. We couldn't get our guns aimed quick enough to ensure that we would get a cil shot so we had to pass. As quick as the morning fly started, it ended. Few ducks were moving and John John decides to call it after an hour telling us the excitement was to much for him to bare. Two trips later, I assume he was on the road headed home. The next few hours weren't too bad though. We had a greenie come in from the right fully committed until he noticed us standing in the blind doing our morning yoga stretches, we had a Merganser swim through our spread that only Waylon noticed and gave us a heads up about, and 2 Canadians fly over head that were in hand grabbing distance.
With the tide coming in and we we're now in ankle deep vaumit diluted water, Fred lets me know that he was ready whenever and that he was on my time. Only having stomach cramps and no recent sudden explosive urges, I offer to give it another 30 which Fred agreed upon since we did make the promise to Waylon that he would get to do his job today. Within the next 10 minutes, a lone drake Pintail came straight at us locked and loaded. While sitting in his chair with his feet down (like the duck), Fred pulled the firing mechanism on his Italian death machine. It took one more quick shot to ensure that the pesky invader from the north didn't dive under water. After a couple decoy mishaps and a quick stick throw, Waylon finally locked onto the deep retrieval to possibly save Fred from a dreaded NR. After another 20, we pull everything together and head out (and of course Waylon knocks my gun over and into the mud). We met a variety of interesting people whilst walking to the truck, and my favorite was the lady who asked "excuse me, is that a 'hunting' dog?". I said "why yes, he is a 'hunting' dog". She then said "shouldn't you be wearing 'orange' if you're hunting with your 'hunting' dog". I explained that you don't wear orange while duck hunting and her facial expression to that made me ignore her following comment which I think was just 'oh'.
A great day to possibly end the season and, as alway's, another exciting year!
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