Automobile?
We Are 'The Best'

Day three saw the first time in a long while that the top three slayers of the storied HOY7 hunting team all sat in the same blind. That's right, Andy 'Cliffy' V. joined us for a day of hunting fun. Of course this particular picture does not do him justice. Cliffy was at the pinacle of awareness and attention untill the days excitement overtook him and he had to 'bring it down a notch'. Meanwhile Fred G. was trying to 'bring it up a notch'. Perhaps if Cliffy had worn his H7HT head gear he would be more involved in this moment.
The day started out clear and warm, never a great sign of impending folding. Also the day before there had been a large windstorm. It seems that every time we have a big windstorm the next few days are less than great. I attribute that to all the ducks being blown downriver to Astoria or perhaps Hawaii. At any rate we saw only minimal ducks and got off fewer shots. Nonetheless, a good time was had by all and we made plans to repeat the process in the near future.
GBCH
(as a sidebar I would like to point out two major developments for the day. #1 There were only two sandwiches for three hunters. #2 Fred G. again drank my last sip, but I was glad he did this time.)


"Jameson Whiskey A Fine Drinking Whiskey Good Enough For the Hoy 7 Hunting Team"
Available in 750 ml for those BIG days
Always drink responsibly and take at least one nap
Day Two. I must admit that today I slept in just a little bit but for good reason. I got the elusive 15 extra minutes of sleep that's not suppose to come with driving. The reason being was that I was up all night making fresh beef jerky for the team. I will post the recipe later. I scrambled over to Bob DaFolders' house as fast as Lisa would take me. Upon arrival I see Bob sitting and waiting ever so patiently, Bob gets in my apologies go out and Bob says "we'll never make poker chip!" which he was totally correct because it was 5:03 and we would have to be at poker chip by 5:30, and with an hour drive it was not going to happen. Bob DaFolders silence envelops the truck like a fog over San Francisco. After we hustle to the East side of Sauvies and get in the non-reservation line the fog clears, things seem to be cool, especially since we are not the last ones in line, but the fifth to last. Did I mention I made fresh beef jerky for the team? Well after a little wait we were awarded blind number 13 in the Hunt unit, for me one of the more scenic blinds but not a favorite among hunters due to the late morning light and such. The H7HT loves a challenge. After Bob expertly lays out the blocks we settle in with the same morning rituals, whikey, smokes, chat, whikey and so forth and so on. A lot of sky busting going on and a little frustration, time for lunch. I must have put some of that stuff that's in turkeys cause when Bob was done with his sammy he went right to sleep. Well guess what happens when Bob sleeps? That's right Fred G. kills. Hen Mallard flew about 20 yards out coming into our spread and bamo, first kill of the year for Fred G. and the team, guess what that makes me? See new poll. Well a bunch of same happens, Bob is now trying to stay awake cause he don't want to miss it. Well guess what? he falls asleep again. Now right about this time my bottle of whikey is gone and I look over to Bobs bottle and see he has ever so little left. Well knowing that when Bob wakes up were just going to leave and since I'm carring the bag with all that kind of stuff in it I wanted to make sure the bag was as light as possible, so I drank his last bit of whikey, and as I did he woke up just in time to see me finish his bottle off. Remember the FOG?
Fred G.

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would like to address this "Premonition" story a few days back. Lets go over some facts here: Bob D. Folder is high. Me, Fred G, is the expert. And Lisa is just, what should I say...Lisa. Bob D. Folder always spouts at the beginning of the year of his ensuing greatness. He goes into the deep archives and pulls a picture of himself out that shows him holding the coveted 10 dollars for the first greenie and first duck of the year. Bob fails to remind everyone that in the past 4 seasons Bob D. Folder and I have split the 10 dollars, he also forgets to mention I have been the H7HT expert every year since he has taught me this great sport. And I quote from a story Bob D. Folder wrote last year "Day 23 was nothing to talk about but day 24 was killer. Fred G definitely takes the title of 'Expert' this year. His killing powers are nothing short of amazing. I like to think that someday I too will be as good of a folder as he is". Any way welcome back all, stay tuned for some great stories, pictures and new this year videos. It's going to be GREAT!

If Oprah can have a book club, why not have the H7HT book club?
I'm sure this book contains profound wisdom and heady analytical views from the man who brought us classics like 'Cat Scratch Fever' and 'Wango Tango'. Ted has also been known to break out his bow hunting skills in the middle of his concerts. God Bless America, Charlton Heston AND Ted Nugent.



After an exhaustive search of farms across the Pacific Northwest the HOY7 hunting team finally found her.
She left us to haul puppies and bales of hay on a thousand acre duck farm. It seems she did such a good job that the jolly old gentleman farmer (who was also a retired NASCAR pit chief and master mechanic) decided to restore her to her former glory. He started with a new 390ci plant, 9" rear and a four speed tranny with a stump puller low. Next he moved to the body where he lovingly filled and smoothed all the imperfections. New white paint and a topper finished the outside while a new blue interior complimented the color scheme. As a finishing touch the farmer installed some cab lights so that she would be easily found among all the lesser trucks surrounding her.
The farmer continued to treat her well but he knew in his mind that he could not provide her with what she truly needed. With a sadness in his heart he put her up for sale in hopes that the right people would come along. Yesterday he found those people.
With duck season approaching and the faithful GMC gone, the HOY7 hunting team knew we had our work cut out for us. How to replace the GMC (that never lived up to Lisa standards) and find something worthy of our exploits. We knew at the time that we were doing what was best for Lise but always felt the void she left. It started with VIN searches and endless hours driving the back roads. Cautious questions to local farmers. Sometimes a glimpse from the corner of your eye. Was that her? Do you think she's OK?
Then days ago as we felt the morning chill of fall in the air, something changed. At first it was just a feeling but then stronger until it was almost certain. She was looking for us too. Yesterday we spent the day on the backroads, looking, watching. From Estacada to Washington State we looked and hoped and crossed our fingers. Then, driving down a country road, we saw her. She looked different at first with her fancy new paint and stylish topper but we knew almost instantly. We pulled into the gravel driveway, past the barn and corn fields and were met by an old farmer. " I knew you'd come back" was all he said, "I've been keepin' her nice for ya."
The farmer watched as she pulled away. A lone tear spilled down his face and he quickly wiped it away. He was sad, but in his heart he knew she was back where she belonged, she was hunting again.
GBCH

Can you see what's wrong with this picture?
This is exactly the type of image we try to discourage here at the HOY7 hunting team. People may get the wrong idea of what duck hunting is all about with pics like this floating around. Perhaps this hunter has been polluted by the ethics of a few bad egg 'catch & release' fisherman. Maybe he is mildly retarded. Or it could be that he is just out to give hunters a bad name.
Whatever the reason we here at the H7HT would like you to know that we are diligently working against this kind of thing. As soon as the season starts here in the Pacific Flyway we will be out at every opportunity to make sure these evil birds cease their rein of terror. No more will they litter our landscape or defile our sense of beauty. The end is near punks, the end is near.
GBCH


