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.