Amendment to the Expert Status

Hence forth I declare that a NR drake is not only a minus from your total but also from your total of Drakes.  For example: today I shotten a green head bastard and it escaped my grasp, I am now minus 1 in the drake total.  All in favor say EH?

Day One Oregon Chapter

Woke up this morning to pouring rain.  I got on the

Looking out from the Old Old Spot

computer to look at some doppler radar and see if the rain would stop.  Not going to happen it said.  I almost went back to bed, but I didn't.  I gear up and I am at the lot by 6 am, cilling time is at 7:01. I make it to the water and it's up to Cilling for the King level.  Never in all my years have I seen the water this high on opening day, usually it is a moon scape with the water 30-50 yards from the shrub.  I was able to just cut out the CFTK spot and bam! Hunt ready.  

The clock strikes cilling time.  Pretty quiet.  I'm second guessing my decision sitting in the rain.  About a half hour passes and a set of mallards  drop in, next I'm drinking for missing but heck there's action.  Another set of mallards want my Dakota Supremos.  For some reason my Beneli firing stick was aiming at the hen instead of Greenie.  She's down and mine.  Multiple sets of 10-15 widgeon are dropping into my spread, I'm not wanting any part of them.  Sure I could have dropped 3 or 4 with 1 shot but they are not why I'm here.  

Zombie killing stick I found today

Did I mention that it's raining?  I mean now it's pouring.  I'm thinking the hard stuff isn't coming down for some time.  A hen mallard drops in from the right, I raise the weapon but stop, if there is a hen there has to be a green head bastard  not far behind.  Sure enough he's dropping in from the right but facing away.  I raise the firing stick and drop him in his tracks.  But it was almost a going away shot because of the way that the bastard was facing.  Greenie recovered quickly and tried jumping up again, but I was right there with 2 3/4 inch of tuff love.  Down again, and now swimming away from me.  I pull the trigger for the third installment of tough love and it goes click.  By now he is halfway to the island and out of reach.  Sadness  overcomes me, should I have tried going after him?  I'm mourning the loss in the blind.  I then say screw it I'll bet that I can make it over to that island, I've been there before.  I grab a big wading stick and try to cross.  (my waders are filled with water already because I pulled a 8 year old pair out of a box not knowing how bad they were, so I guess I had a gallon of water in the right boot) I'm now up to my waist and then up to my chest and water is pouring in from every conceivable broken seam.  I'm not going to make it.  I'm now officially negative in the drake column.  I get a sun break and call it and head home.  I saw some mallards, pintail and a bunch of widgeon, it was good.  Day one.   

Oh yeah, I was putting on a dry pair of gloves and when I grabbed my bag it wasn't zipped and all of my shells fell into 8 inches of water.

Duck Boat?

This whole not working a lot thing is perfect for getting in some great early season hunting.  I called Clider and we made a plan for yesterday morning.  He had several places he had scouted and wanted to go and I figured that, even though I'm The Expert, he should chose.  All of them were off the Medimont boat ramp or on Killarey lake and all new to me.  My only suggestion was that any place we go not involve a prolonged trip in the boat.  No open water.  No lakes or rivers.  But other than that I was up for anyplace at all he wanted to go, anyplace.

When we puled into the parking lot for The Point once again other hunters were there in front of us.  Clider blamed my regularity for our late arrival and our only other choice was clear.  We were off to The Blind.  We set up a fantastic looking spread with 2 jerk rigs and 2 spinners just in time for shooting time.  I let Clider do all the early shooting as I took a few minutes to relax and take in the beauty of the calm and foggy morning.  After he had a couple ducks in the blind I decided it was time to show him how The Expert known as Bob D does things.  The mallards came from the right and I beaded up the greenhead and shot at just the right time to down 2 at once.  I was worried at first that I had shotten a hen but it turned out to be two greenies after all.  I did have the need to down a wounded henny later in the morning but the first double I've had in years felt great being two green headed bastards.

2 for 1

Later as Clider went for a walk I one shotted a widgeon just because I promised him that I would.  The sun came out and the action slowed and we decided to call it and head back home to clean ducks.  I'll let Clider tell you about the large number of ducks he took home but the 3 that left with me became duck snacks and are now on their way to feed friends.  The greenie I shot the other day went into a recipe my Sweetie got from a co-worker.  I'm not going to pass this recipe on for good reason.  I hope to remain The Expert for a bit as I go off on vacation but with a fantastic early season here in Idaho, and the Oregon chapter about to start their killing spree, I'm just going to enjoy it while it lasts.
GBCH

More Early Slaying in the Rain

Warm weather has given way to the rains of fall and grey skies for days at a time.  That's good news for us here in North Idaho, it means winter is coming. For a while I have little to do in the work arena and lots of free time to go out and do some hunting.

Friday I finally made it to The Point. My first order of business after getting all my decoys set was picking up the mess other hunters had left behind from opening weekend. I hope none of the 30 shells they left behind had found their mark and they even had the audacity to modify my build on the blind. What do they think this is, public land!?  Anyway, the rain was steady and so was the lack of ducks. The only thing I could figure was that they were staying put and relaxing after extended periods of late summer. No reason to fly when the temps were warmish and the food was plentiful. I did enjoy the diver who refused to go anywhere other than next to my Dakotas. I think she was in love.

The rain fell harder then the rain fell lighter and then stopped altogether. I pulled up and headed for the couch and to feast on the duck bites I had made the day before.  Clider and I made plans to hunt the following day and I even let him pick the spot regardless of me being The Expert. Much to my surprise he chose the pylons down at the other end of Anderson lake.  I figured for sure we would be off on an excursion to the bottom of some lake in his deathtrap of a boat.  I picked him up at 4:15 and he even had a fresh warm breakfast sammy for me. What a guy.

I figured that it would be an incredibly short walk to the cattails next to the pylons so I wore all my layers and my jacket to keep me dry in the light rain.  Good thing I brought along a 'hunting umbrella' so that after we trudged through mushy tall grasses and shrubs for far too long, I was able to stand under it and steam like a pot of boiling water without getting wetter.  We had a nice set with 2 jerk rigs and 2 spinners all working to bring the birds in.  They were certainly flying and Clider brought down 3 ducks with some nifty shooting and Peat doing the retrieving. As he set off to take a walk down to The Blind to check it out I told him I would shoot a greenie while he was gone.  And I did. A nice one shot drop on a left to right passing drake. Still The Expert for now.

After a bit of chatting and still some random ducks flying around we pulled up and headed for home, Clider had plans to go out this morning with Otis so I figured for sure my title was going to fall but I learned that he chose the relative safety of his bed rather than risk another day out in that rickety boat of his.  Stay tuned as I still have 3 days off before I go on vacation to a place where no duck hunting will happen at all.
GBCH

Thanks A Lot, Other Hunters.

Yesterday was my opening day.

Silly golfers and a regular job kept me busy right through opening weekend so I had no chance to go hunting with Clider and the 100 pound retrieving machine named Peat.  When I texted him to ask how his day went he worked around the answer, likely learned from the recent Trump debate performance, and would not tell me if he was 'The Expert' or not.  I figured he must have shotten his limit of fat greenies and not wanted to make me feel bad when my day produced nothing but hen widgeon. So I decided to go to The Point to keep with my tradition of going nowhere else, ever.  What can I say, I love The Point.

All my gear was old and untested, nothing new, gun not cleaned or shotten in months, battery uncharged on my spinner, blocks pulled from the shed the night before, I was ready. Of course I slept poorly that night so I was up early and ready for the ride. But something was off. Something disturbed me as I drove past a car pulled off to the side of the road on the other side of the bridge.  I even pulled over and cut my lights looking for signs of life near my spot.  My Spot. The place where I always hunt. The place I just freshened up for a cool $14,000 days before. Hmmm.

It wasn't until I got to the parking lot and had my gear loaded that I saw the two headlamps moving down the path. I yelled across the river and asked if they were going to that point out there. Yes, they were.  Like a rocket I was back in the Jeep headed to The Blind where we just spent many many dollars making it invisible to the birds.  I only had seconds to settle in after setting a good looking spread of Dakotas and my jerk rig. The water was flat and the cloud cover made it hard to see but I could hear birds working around the spread.  I strained to see if they were the tons of Brandt we had seen days before or fat ducks. Minutes into my my morning rituals a lone duck landed in the center of the spread 20 yards out.  I could see in the pale light a head darker than the body and that it was big enough to be a greenie.  The duck swam around my blocks and seemed unconcerned when I jumped up and pointed the Benelli its way. Even the ole' Boogely Boogely Boo didn't bother it. I sat back down and figured since I could't shoot it maybe it would bring in more ducks, they were everywhere.

After what was likely only 2 minutes she jumped and I grabbed my gun and shot quickly.... and accurately! One in the water, later to find out it's a hen Canvasback.  I've never shotten a Can before but was sad about the hen part. There was no wind and the birds weren't really working my spread so I set up the spinner off to my right. About halfway back into the blind two birds immediately locked up to land. I grabbed my gun off the bench and another quick shot downed a second bird, another hen. Patience, I needed some patience.

In no time a pair of greenies came from my left and another quick two shots took down the back bird. I let him sit there because he wasn't going anywhere and there was little wind to take him away. I was feeling better about having waited to be sure I was taking a drake and Heston rewarded my patience. Later when I picked him from the water I saw his bedazzled leg.  My first banded bird.  I think I was still grinning when the next double came in and I one shotted another greenie.  Holy Heston! I could do no wrong.

Self inflicted black eye.

As we all know from reading anything on this site, being a H7HT member never means being able to 'do no wrong'. My newfound smugness was crushed by the beautiful greenie that I missed three times coming straight in. Or the ones that flew 10 feet out slow and in perfect shooting range that I never saw until they passed. And especially the gigantic bird that must have been Greenie himself that landed while I was not looking.  He sat just beyond my decoys and was bigger by half than my Dakota greenhead block. Huge. Huge I say, and smart. Watching the blind the whole time, not being able to see me but knowing full well something wasn't right.  Too smart to mix with my blocks but still taunting me by just floating there and watching. Fully 10 minutes passed. Finally I could stand no more and figured to get the jump on him but as soon as I moved to stand he lifted off and, after an initial flight right, turned back left. I missed all 3 shots.

I knew then it was time to go. My luck had run it's course, my lesson was almost complete.  I packed my gear and with an extra 4 birds in my bag pulled hard on the string to tighten the top.  It broke and I punched myself in the eye. Hard. Yep, my day was done.

Thanks a lot other hunters. It was perfect.

GBCH

Opening Day in Idaho

The highly anticipated first day of waterfowl season/ the war on greenie has arrived.  I have my boat 100% perfect, shotgun outfitted with parts that will assure lethality, new dog blind for Peat, fresh breathable waders that were painstakingly researched online, and an Expert title to retain.

Otis and I both scouted independently, and both came up with the same location for our first battle with the green heads.  Cave lake, on the extreme west end was full of coot, and hidden among them were ducks.  We decided to take separate vehicles, since Trump announced that global warming is just a scheme by the Chinese to keep America non competitive in the manufacturing sector, we no longer had to worry about our carbon footprint. Otis could take his kayak straight from the roadside and hold our spot, and I'd meet him with the boat, dog and decoys.

We arrived and found a nice bank of marsh grass to hide in, with water up to the bottoms of our chairs it was a good thing Peat's new house had extending legs.  We put out 20 blocks and a pair of spinners, pleased with the grip we settled in with an hour to spare before shooting time.  As the minutes ticked by I noticed a few things, nobody else was on the lake, my new waders were leaking badly and were obviously junk, and my shotgun would only hold two shells with the plug.  I fiddled with the gun a bit, but soon we heard birds buzzing our heads.

About ten minutes before first light the assault began, divers shrieking overhead, and mallards in small groups coming within a few feet of the grass tops.  There was a little lull at shooting time and then Otis opened up, he got one, then two big birds.  I finally stood up and got up above the grass, there were ducks everywhere, it was a little overwhelming.  I  connected with a mallard, and even put an extra shot in her mid air because of the weedy bottom, I didn't need an nr on the board this year.  Over then next 45 minutes Otis dropped two greenies and I got a drake ringneck, identical to the first duck I ever got.  The number of ducks that came through was pretty incredible, but only a fraction actually wanted into the spread.  These were locals and they knew to stay out in the middle of the lake.

The first two birds Otis had shot dropped behind us in the marsh, it was a huge area, hard to walk in with a million places for a bird to hide.  After a considerable amount of looking by both of us, both of those ended up being NRs.  Otis learned a solid lesson on when to pass on a shot, and we both got a big work out looking.

After we settled in there we're still the occasional lookers, but I decided to remove my magazine cap to try and fix my two shell limit problem.  It is a pain to remove the little black cap thingy, you have to push it into the mag tube and then twist it exactly 91 degrees to get that and the spring out.  Well I didn't have to worry about that process, because when I fired and missed the big fat green headed bastard coming straight at me, that black cap thingy, my new magazine spring, and my new magazine plug all shot out of my gun and nearly hit the decoy marking 40 yards for us.  The water was brown and the parts were all gone, leaving me with a fancy new single shoty.

After that we waited for a while, and birds flew, but there were no more opportunities.  Otis paddled back and I decided to pack up and check out a potential walk in spot. I motored over and hoped out for a hike at the Pointe, it looks like a solid spot with lots of cover, a shallow hard bottom, removed from roads, and a beautiful view that reminds me of the majestic ballet that is Mother Nature.  As I was walking to check out a spot I was worried about being able to cross, a hen mallard popped out of the reeds forcing me to defend myself and drop her about 25 yards out.  She immediately dove, and I went out into the lake, my waders we getting noticeably wetter by the second, and she wasn't coming up.  Just when I gave up hope, she resurfaced near shore and ran inland to hide with perfect camouflage.  I walked right by her as I frantically searched the area.  I don't know if I would have found her on my own, but Peat walked up behind me with a lively henny in his mouth.

We headed in happy with day one, what more could you ask for?  Upon closer inspection I must have torn the large hole in the butt of my waders getting out of the boat, that didn't really explain all the other leaks around the seems though.  So, I just need to fix my gun, get rid of the sharp stuff on my boat, and warranty my waders. Peat's house made it through unscathed though.