My transplanted Hollyhocks are starting to bloom

Bob D.
"Expert" gardener.

A story from Cliffy, the Wannabe Climber

This past weekend, I went out to Sisters Wilderness and hiked in 7 miles toCamp Lake. My plan was to spend Friday night at the lake, wake up early andascend the north ridge of South Sister and descend the northwest ridge. ThenSunday, wake upearly again and ascend the southeast ridge of Middle Sister, descend and hike out. 5 miles into the hike to Camp Lake, I got to pull out my new Garmin 62s GPS. I needed it, the entire way was packed in snow.Thankfully, before I left, I downloaded the trail onto the GPS and just followed it all the way to the lake. Though my Jedi insights would have taken me there, I'm trying to catch up with the new world of technology. When I got to the lake and made my camp, I took a closer look at the north ridge. I decided, even with two ice tools, the steepness and exposure of a westerly traverse around a rockband at 9600 ft. was a bit much for me to solo. So, I drank whiskey to ease my vajj. After a long night with a million mosquitoes and the sounds of ice breaking off into the lake, I overslept my alarm. When I woke, I scrambled a pack together and started off for Middle Sister at 8:30. The hiking was superior. at 8,200 ft., I hit a snag. Go left or right around a rock outcrop? I chose the high road (right) and stumbled into an overhanging rock that went about 40 ft. up. No way! I thought about the 40 minutes I would have to backtrack and then the other time it would take me to get around the other side. But, before I made that decision, I looked right again. And there before me was a mock looking chimney with glacier ice on one side and solid rock on the other. I whipped out a single crampon for my right foot, grabbed my axe and before I knew it Iwas shimmying my way up. That was the best 40 feet of climbing ever. Super fun! As I got off the chimney, I made mywayup the ridge and jumped into a gully to get off the scree. I followed the southeast ridgeline until it met up with another southern ridge to form 'the summit ridge'. Once on the summit ridge, I knew I only had 500 more feet of climbing to go. However, once I got there, due to my late start, the snow was mush. Once again I felt my vajj starting to ache when I looked down on both sides. I didn't go for it. The loneliness was setting in. It was 11:30 am and I decided to glissade back to camp. I screamed down in 25 min. Seriously, I went fast! I took my shell pants off and was deciding on whether to bail or have another crack in the morning. 5 seconds later, I was engulfed in mosquitoes again, so I packed up and hit the trail well aware of the icy cold beer sitting in the cooler in the back of my truck. Mmmmmmm, beeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr. Delicious it was!

Join NOW!

It don't cost nothin'

Remember when......

Cliffy posted?
Why Cliffy, why?

Holy Heston! NFL Sunday Ticket!

For Free!
Here is a picture of my new Dish Network dish. It provides me with not only the best in satellite channels but also the best in the NFL teams. And of course by that I can only mean one thing. GIANTS!

Yep, that's right. GIANTS football every weekend. Every GIANTS game. Every GIANT crushing victory over lesser teams. Heston has blessed me with a big dish capable of beaming images from space into my home every Sunday. They will provide me with the best in GIANTS action that the GIANTS can deliver. I for one am a believer.

How can they do this?
#39.99 a month. That's how.

A Crushing

Just another crushing blow

Kellogg I Was There

 

I kicked his ass on this hole too



I kicked his ass on this hole

My recent travels took me through Kellogg ID.  As always Paige was an awesome host opening their log cabin, it's made of logs, and making me feel welcomed. Bob on the other hand, Bob could not stop talking about how much he was going to crush me on the golf course and at the range.  "Blue jackets going back to it's rightful owner" that's all I heard the days before my arrival and after I pulled in on a Monday afternoon. Quite honestly I was sick of hearing it.  There is a very nice 9 hole golf course there nestled into the side of the mountain that my good friend Bob is the club pro.  Bob plays there often, early mornings on days off sometimes picks up nine after work so it was good playing with him cause he has all the knowledge. Bob invites me to come out and play 18.  Well after that 18 Bob was dreadfully behind, I was playing shut up golf.  We decide to take a break enjoy a tasty burger in charming downtown Kellogg.  For some reason the crushing  before lunch was not big enough for I needed to crush him for another nine.  Bob then thought "if  I can't crush him on my own personal course I play all the time, at the range I surly can".  Plain stupid the boy was, something

 like 23 out of 25 with the clays.  Maybe Bob was just showing me a good time?  A good time was had the following day for sure!  Friends with benefits it was.  Bob being the golf pro at his course is able to play other courses in his area for free!  Free!  A great price.   Circling Raven Course just 45 minutes away was where he chose.  A beautiful course, ultra nice carts, free towels, heated bathrooms in the middle of nowhere, and the tee boxes were kept immaculate.  Tee time is 8:30 and me kicking his ass started at about 9:30.  Pouring would describe the rain at tee time, and it took me a while to dial in the shut up golf.  Did I mention the carts had personal ball and club cleaners?  Here is a picture of their awesome club house and one of their carts.  The woman comes with the cart she is the ball cleaner, this place is great!  Call for reservations anytime!  Well I could go on and on about the place but I won't, I kicked his ass there as well.  Thanks for the great time Bob and Paige.

Canadian Night at the Zoo!

A lovely evening last night at the Portland Zoo enjoying the fine music of Los Lobos.

Check out the guy with three necks.

This is how it looked to me.

Cliffy lookin jiggy

Should I Even be Thinking About this Yet?

Some Good Lore

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The Rainbow Room 2009

A day starts off at a place we never made it to last year and this year I've been there twice. Twin Falls. Twin Falls as we all know by now is out past the Old New Spot at Dalton Point. I think it should be re-named, more on that later. Andy and I are both DL hunting (disabled not down low) so the short hike out makes for an easy on the body hike, but same difficulty rating on the bottle. The anticipation by no means is high. While we are setting up I spy a low fly'er and then another, maybe it's going to be a good afternoon. While we are sitting there enjoying the mighty Columbia, it's magnificent vastness and it's unadulterated beauty, Mr. Red Neck with shitass dog show up. I call that dog shitass because he took a huge dump right by our blind. Mr. Red Neck approaches us, "hey guys how's it going? how's the hunting here" he aks us. "I Google Mapped this here place, it seemed to be a darn good spot". (Not speaking to Mr. Red Neck but making an observation) My question to you is when for Hestons sake did dumb shits "lern" themselves on a computer? Was it the library? Why is it the Google Earth/Maps changing the face of duck hunting? Can we, being the H7HT, sue the guy in charge of Google, what's his name? I turned to him and blew smoke in his face and said "listen Hill Billy why don't you pack up the way you came in and take your stink ass dog, and he does stink, then take your "computar" back to Ikea, and forget that you ever saw this place, I think you would have better luck hunting at some damn park or golf course". He then said "Well dude don't freak on my ass I read about this place on some hunting blog...the Hoy 7 Hunting Blog!!" I said "shut up beyatch we are the H7HT, next time you see any of our vehicles make like a tree and blow!!". Senior Red Neck high tails it out of there not wanting any part of us. Hunting presumes. Time passes and Cliffy, once an expert back in 2005, spy's a set of green heads. They were flying high and not wanting any part us. It made me think, being where we are we have to make the best of what we see. If we see some ducks, any ducks we have to make the best of it. In other words we have to "Strike While The Iron Is Hot".

Twin Falls? I don't think so, the name that is, the Twin Falls have dried up I think due to global warming. I think we are almost out of water. Just look at the Mighty Columbia. I think Twin Falls should be called "The Rainbow", not like gee, but like a water spectrum. "The Rainbow Room". Have you never seen one there?

 

Status of the "Blue jacket"

Well there it is!

The Blue jacket resides in my home. It hangs on a hook in my mud room waiting to be worn by the most recent winner of the tour and I'm here to tell you, it's not me. Now I know you are asking why I'm not wearing the Blue jacket. It's because I'm not the owner. That would be Ferd G. He crushed me in the last golf outing this year. Summer tour was won in a convincing manner by the mighty Fred G. in a crushing defeat. He schooled me by at least 10 strokes. Congratulations go out to him for showing me the error of my ways in thinking that my home course was conducive to my winning.

I lost.

27 holes at Galena Ridge. 18 holes ta the Circling Raven Course south of Kellogg. I was crushed the whole time. He even beat me with a set of Wall Mart clubs! What a competitor. Hats off to the mighty Fred G. The owner of the Blue Jacket and the best golfer to ever walk the planet.

GBCH

What the... wait....NOOOOOO!

It's sweltering here in the mountains, and by sweltering I mean 85. (Apologies to those readers in the southwest where 85 might seem tame but, after all, you chose to live there.) We even had humidity too. Unbearable!

So I come home from work just looking forward to a nice cooling shower and maybe some quality time watering the lawn to find this. The new Macks Catalog. I had to hide the thing from myself just to keep from reading it. If I even crack the cover it means I have to start thinking about the upcoming season. It's way too early to be thinking about this, about 3 months too early. What's next? The Cabellas Master Catalog? Are you people trying to kill me? ARRRRRRRRRGH!

GBCH.

.




Fred G.
"On Vacation"

More good news.

Excellent wetland conditions have set the stage for above-average waterfowl production

MEMPHIS, Tenn. - June 30, 2011 - The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service released its preliminary report today on breeding ducks and habitats, based on surveys conducted in May and early June. Total duck populations were estimated at 45.6 million breeding ducks on the surveyed area. This estimate represents an 11 percent increase over last year’s estimate of 40.9 million birds and is 35 percent above the 1955-2010 long-term average. This was only the fifth time in the survey’s history that the total duck population exceeded 40 million.

“The FWS has reported nearly unprecedented waterfowl habitat conditions and breeding duck population levels for 2011—the best in several years for some areas,” said Ducks Unlimited’s Chief Scientist Dale Humburg. “Full wetlands and good upland cover will likely support a strong breeding effort, particularly in the prairies this year.”

Habitat conditions across the U.S. and Canadian prairies and parklands were considered excellent. Further north, wetland conditions in most boreal regions of Alaska and northern Canada were good to very good at the time of the survey. During the survey and into early summer, many regions important to breeding ducks continued to receive significant snow melt and further precipitation, which could increase later breeding efforts and ensure brood survival. If these wet conditions continue, prospects going into the winter and possibly into spring 2012 will be favorable as well.

In addition to extensive grassland cover, one of the most important elements in duck breeding success is the amount of water present in portions of prairie and parkland Canada and the north-central United States. Total pond counts for the United States and Canada combined showed 8.1 million ponds, a 22 percent increase from last year’s estimate and 62 percent above the long-term average. This was the second time in the survey’s history that ponds exceeded 8 million.

Click Here Often

Summer Is Here!

(Lupine in my back yard)

Here in the great North West summer has arrived.  But today I also received an issue if Waterfowl Mag.  Getting ready today for my trip of 2300 miles, and I received an issue of Waterfowl Mag.  I wanted to open the magazine, look at the pictures, read the articles of slaying.  Quite honestly I'm not even sure if I should crack the spine, what could it possibly show me? what could it teach me?  Who could ever take the rank of Expert now?  I mean Bob has this tasty new spot with a new hunting buddy with a dog.  I'm thinkin I could get a lot more sleep this winter, save some gas money, have lunch home where it's nice and warm and dry.  But right now I'm not thinking about that, I'm thinking of the tasks at hand,  2300 miles and "slaying" Bob on the summer tour, it's all I have.

A Klassic

Happy Fourth of July from H7HT

A K Chucker Klassic

Go Silver Mountain!

Today I went to the 4th of July parade in Wallace Idaho. 'A day early and 40 floats short' is how I would sum up the parade. With that being said though, my employer was representin' with this well thought out and stylish float depicting a gondola car with recreational aids stuck all over it. It was driven by our head of marketing and Thomas the intern. Nice job boys!

The entire parade consisted of about 7 floats and the Search and Rescue team bringing up the rear. Not even 1 firetruck or police car finished off the parade but there was plenty of taffy and tootsie rolls being thrown from the ATV drivers and the plump lady in the 20's dress and parasol. I think she was depicting the town's rich heritage of prostitution stretching all the way into the 1980's. Even so, I enjoyed the sunshine and watching obese children running to get the candy before it went into the storm drains.

Tonight in Kellogg the circus has come to town but Paige decided we should not go after she heard the tortured blat of the elephants who were assisting in putting up the big top with their forced labor. I had the pleasure of witnessing the carnies setting up the games and rides. They looked like a well oiled machine of forced labor. Although I'm sure there will be many fleeced by crooked carnival games, someone is bound to win the giant panda and the foilbacked Matchbox 20 4X4 mirror. (I had my Lynyrd Skynyrd mirror from the '82 Durham fair for years. It still may be upstairs at my mothers house for all I know.) Tomorrow is the Kellogg parade and fireworks show, I can't wait. Someone may lose a finger.

GBCH

Nice.

Rocky says......

He found a new spot.
So Rocky ( the bartender that I hunt with on occasion) says that he found a new spot. The other day a patron was telling him that he needed a bartender for a couple days a week. He also showed him a picture of the place he hunts Elk and Whitetail deer. While looking at the background Rocky notices a large pond. "Do ducks fly in there?" The guy says that in fact the ducks do fly into the spot on a regular basis. "Can I hunt there?"

YES. Glory be to Heston! Rocky is now working for a guy with a private hunting spot. 400 acres of private land with a large duck pond. Mallards and Geese and Swans!. Nobody hunts it at all. I can't wait to build a blind and offer the guy free golf and ski tunes. Maybe we could work a deal. Maybe we could be friends. Maybe I can go there a lot.
Did I mention Rocky just got a Chocolate Lab he is training to be a duck dog?

GBCH.

Mind Scramble

Just spent a good hour watching the You Tube Channel rnickymouse.  (note: it is r n not a m)  I'm either really psyched or scared shit less.  Click on the title and check it out yo!

Will a Black Bear Sense I'm Afraid and Attack?

Hey Bubba No Trubas

Black bears are not looking for a vulnerable person to attack.  Their first concern is that THEY will be attacked.

Black bears may have the same worries people do about appearing afraid and vulnerable.  That might be why they become blustery when they are nervous. 

The erroneous belief that black bears are likely to attack is difficult for people to shake after a lifetime of seeing ferocious-looking pictures and snarling taxidermy.  Month after month, outdoor magazine artists draw terrifying pictures of bears.  The most common drawings make bears look like they react to people with anger and an unnatural snarl that is drawn entirely from the artists' imagination.  

In reality, only rare individuals attack.  About one black bear in a million becomes a predator.  For the rest, attacks are difficult to provoke.  Bear Center researchers have not heard of anyone being attacked because he or she was afraid. 

In an inadvertent test, a researcher tripped while retreating from a charging mother black bear and felt intense fear lying on his back with the upset mother standing over him.  She didn't touch him.  Although Bear Center researchers have often been afraid during their 40 years of study, they have never had a black bear come after them and hurt them.      

  

Sierra Club vs. Wyoming Rancher.

The Sierra Club and the U.S. Forest Service were presenting an alternative to the Wyoming ranchers for controlling the coyote population. It seems that after years of the ranchers using the tried and true method of shooting or trapping the predators, the Sierra Club had a "more humane" solution to this issue.

What they were proposing was for the animals to be captured alive. The males would then be castrated and let loose again. This was ACTUALLY proposed by the Sierra Club and by the U.S. Forest Service.

All of the ranchers thought about this amazing idea for a couple of minutes.

Finally an old fellow wearing a big cowboy hat in the back of the conference room stood up, tipped his hat back and said; "Son, I don't think you understand our problem here; these coyotes ain't screwin' our sheep... they're eatin' 'em!"

The meeting never really got back to order.

All Work and No Play

]

Makes Fred G. a ........

Hey Where Aren't You Going?

Thompson's, owned by the three Thompson brothers — Frank, Biddle and Edric — was founded in 1950. At one time it was the largest seasonal restaurant east of the Mississippi; the staff could serve 2,000 dinners a night from mid-June to mid-September. Cars would back up along Snow Inn Road to Route 28.


College students and locals, including a young Foster, remember the dishes they washed, the potatoes they wrapped in foil for baking, the cars they parked and the lobsters they served. And almost against their will, they remember that radio jingle, one of two created to advertise the restaurant until it closed in 1995.
"I'm going to Thompson's Clam Bar, because that's where the tastiest clams are," Foster warbled during a recent interview at his family's Harwich Port home. "The jingle was inescapable ..."
The Clam Bar changed the lives of Cape Codders forever, he said.

Patrons would wait an hour to an hour and a half for a table in the 450-seat restaurant with more than 250 workers, said Harwich resident Charles Meader, general manager at the Clam Bar in the 1980s. He met his future wife there, just one of 20 marriages he can easily remember among Thompson's employees.
Like many of them, he also worked at other Thompson businesses, including the adjacent Snow Inn, which opened in 1891, and the Wychmere Harbor Club. In the 1940s and '50s the inn's produce was grown on the Thompson family farm, now the town-owned Thompson's Field. Baird Eaton of Dennis, stepson of Biddle Thompson, tallied thousands of lives touched by the business, including all the young people working their way through college. In the 1960s, he worked at a second Thompson's Clam Bar in North Truro.

Generations worked for the Harwich Port restaurant. Foster's father was the first clam-shucker at Thompson's in 1950. Foster worked there from 1977 to 1979, first as a dishwasher, then making salads and desserts, earning enough there and later at the Wychmere Harbor Club to pay his way through Dartmouth College and graduate school. "Being a dishwasher at the Clam Bar is the closest to Dickensian hell that I can imagine," Foster said. "You leave drenched in sweat, and the smell of strong lobster butter would never really leave your skin the whole summer."

But, oh, the staff parties made up for it, he said. Then, the Thompson brothers died and their widows could no longer run the family business, Eaton said.The family sold their businesses in 1983 to J. Richard Fennell who ran the Clam Bar through 1995. He briefly opened another Thompson's Clam Bar on Route 28 in Harwich Port, but that's not the place people remember. They still drive down Snow Inn Road, looking for the original. But Thompson's lives in hearts everywhere. In the boondocks of Venezuela, Meader and his wife heard two tourists break into the Clam Bar jingle when a bus driver asked them, "Where ya going?"

(heres a little secret click on Post title)

Mucho Holmes

H7HT would like to congratulate Abraham and Genna on 25 years of marriage.  The silver anniversary was celebrated this past weekend in full style with a 20ft Hummer limo, big one Holmes, and 30 30 packs of Budweiser, mucho Holmes.  I've never in my life have seen so many cowboy hats before inside a limo.

( a typical Mexican photo, man smiling woman stoic)

"Coulda said it was a good day"

I don't even have an AK.
Paige is off visiting her sister in the big city and the yard work is all done so today I treated myself to a selfish day of fun. 9am tee time with my neighbor Chris and Rocky the bartender. He brought along Bill, his liquor rep. (Sadly no free samples) We played the mighty Galena Ridge and I shot well today. Even sank a 20+ foot chip for bird. Sweet! 80 degrees and sunny for the first time in forever, welcome back summertime.

Then off for a bike ride on the trail of the Coeur D'Alene. A path that stretches for 98 miles and comes right by the cabin. I rode about 12 miles which is plenty for the first ride of the year. On the way back a sweet climb up the gravel road behind my home. Nice. And now I'm about to have a tasty beverage in the back yard while I watch my neighbor Chris do some yard work. Sucker. To top it all off 'Nobody I know got killed in South Central LA, coulda said it was a good day.'

GBCH

The Cans. They Hate the Cans

No not really we love the cans. I'm here to set a few things straight. Last year not the expert shooting the bb gun, this year clearly the expert. I shot the most cans and gave the most shotguns away, I also made the best rules that crushed everyone on this trip. If you shoot swingy first you were granted and extra shot to use on the course. If you then clear the course with out using the "extra" shot you then gave your extra shot in the form of a shotgun to some one else.

Fly fishing trip part 4

The Cans.

As you may or may not know, there is always the can competition on our fabled fishing trip. Who is the best at shooting cans with the BB gun? I am. Bob DaFolder. Me.
Of course there will be some debate as to the validity of that statement but I will state my case here in this forum.

After a short float (due to the high water) down the mighty Deschutes river we set camp in the same spot we have camped for the last 3 years. This time there were other campers at our spot. They looked like some kind of outfitter set up as they had massive tents with a full kitchen and about 20+ people milling about waiting for their Chateau Brion and 1972 Beaujolais. We had other tricks up our sleeve. Anyway, Cliffy stepped to the plate when Fred G asked if we should be shooting the BB gun with other campers so close by. I can't remember the exact wordage but I think it was something like "Yep".

The first can went out. According to the rules you have to shoot all the cans on the course, shoot in a certain order, or complete a task to set another can. It goes like this until the rules become so complicated that nobody can remember, or somebody has to do a shotgun. It seems that about 10 cans is the limit for a given course. We had a fine one this year. If memory serves we had "easy peezy", "spinny", "long shot", "5th and Burnside", "Stella", "I hate that can", "Tom" and many more. Actually, I don't really remember any of them other than "easy peezy". But you get the idea. Needless to say we all ended up doing a shotgun or two and shot many cans. Of course being the photographer nobody had the good sense to get a picture of me doing a shotgun, but rest assured mine were cold and delicious. About 30 pictures were taken of the course, a small sampling shown here, and I think it may well be the highlight of the trip.

Now before you think that this is just the drunken musings of 3 good ole' boys out on a fishing trip, I challenge you to grab the BB gun in your garage and start a can course. That's right, it's the best fun EVER. Well, the shotguns were ice cold and the the light faded as Cliffy bowed out. Seems that he was just getting ready for the next mornings fishing. Fred G and I broke out the headlamps for some extra difficulty marksmanship skills. Once again I'm not sure who won the competition but I must believe that it was me. I am 'The Expert' after all. Strangely enough our neighbors to the south never asked if they could join in the fun. Pusses.

GBCH

Anger Issues?

You tell me!

Haiku

symbiosis in
posting has begun today
let there be a light

It's Rodeo Season

This Man Threatened Me

He said if I didn't post there was going to be hell to pay!

What's the Delay Kenny?

Saturday night was ride naked all over the world, it was to help raise awareness, I think the only awareness was naked people and smelly seats.  Kathy and I tried going home on Saturday night and as we left we noticed a bunch of naked people whizzing by on bikes.  Maybe whizzing is the wrong word, but you get it.  Needless to say we could not get home because the ride which encompassed Hawthorne, Belmont, Cesar Chaves and SeGrand had approximately 11,000 riders this year.  We were stuck in the middle of an ass tornado and could not get out for over hour.  Just wondering how the naked ride went in our Kellogg chapters area?

Set and Looking Good

Hoping for some good weather this year.  Leaving Saturday the 9th, first stop Sumpter OR, for some drinking and dancing with the Saing-Froid Club.  Next stop Missoula to ride along the curvy Clearwater river, I also would like to see Montanna.  Arrive in Kellogg ID on Monday for some cool tasty libations, after that I kick Bob DaFolders ass in everything...everyting.  Leave on Thursday and head to Canada to pick up a tasty piece of ass, you all have heard about the girls from Canada.  Ride along a 100 mile lake, drink some of that Canadian beer, and find out what it's all aboot.  Then it's back to the states, back to where it all started, aboot 2011 miles in 2011, one sorry ass.  May Heston be at my side.

View Larger Map

Thanks to Jenny X for this uplifting story.....

The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories.
There were all the regular types of stuff: Spilled milk and pennies saved. But then the teacher realized, much to her dismay, that only Janie was left.
"Janie, do you have a story to share?"
'Yes ma'am. My daddy told me a story about my Mommy. She was a Marine pilot in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife.
She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break, and then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 Iraqi troops. She shot 15 of them with the pistol, until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands."
''Good Heavens,' said the horrified teacher. What did your Daddy tell you was the moral to this horrible story?"
"Don't fuck with Mommy when she's been drinking."

Fish on?

The float is on and we are down river, past the bum fire under the bridge, and floating nicely. Cliffy is looking for a place to set the boat down so that the fishing can begin. Cliff and Fred have a $5 bet on the first fish to be caught. I'm out. Just taking pictures, 1000 to be exact. Both of them think I don't have the gumption to take 1000 pictures but I'm sure I've got the sauce.

As we pull into the first spot I take out the telephoto and short lens. My two intrepid fishermen settle in to their spots for some casting action and I start up the Nikon. Pic here, pic there, everywhere a pic. Fred G is looking like he's got something and I zoom in on what could be the first fish of the trip. He battles a swift current and a mighty beast and pulls the kingfish into shore.

Now here's the rub. The fish is lost in the reeds on the grab. Does it count?

The pictures son't show a fish or a grab. I leave it up to you, H7HT readers. Where and when is a fish "caught"? Do you need to bring it on shore? Have a picture taken? Just reel it in? Touch it with your hand? I'm not sure so I leave it up to you, vote in the comment section below and money will change hands.

GBCH

freshly cut grass has a scent all it's own

it wafts from down the street through open windows

evenings are lit with light once reserved for mid-day

children scream and play well past dinnertime hours

summertime is here


thoughts still turn to freezing mornings in the blind

layers of wool and neoprene protect me from the chill

mallards fly in unison and anticipation is great

a sight I won't see for far too many days

summertime is here


.

Perhaps?

Traces of ancient aboriginals found in Ontario lake bottom

Use of a geology-style drill pioneers a novel method for detecting the presence of past civilizations

By Randy Boswell, Postmedia News June 6, 2011

A team of Canadian scientists has used geology-style drill cores from an Ontario lake bottom to gather evidence of toolmaking and perhaps even duck hunting by ancient aboriginals about 10,000 years ago -the first discovery of its kind in North America, and one that could point the way to further breakthroughs in underwater archeology around the world.

The scientists found more than 150 tiny flakes of quartz in the lake's murky depths -strong evidence that an ancient shoreline, submerged long ago, was used by some of Canada's earliest inhabitants as a site for manufacturing spear points, scrapers and other tools for fishing and hunting.

Dropping in.

Cliffy picked us up bright and early at 6am and we were right and ready to go. the coolers were packed and the BB gun was loaded. I wondered aloud what it was that we were missing and nothing came to mind, could it be that we had forgotten nothing?

A couple hour drive through the mountains and plains of Oregon to the Warm Springs reservation put us at the boat launch in time to see many other boaters ready to fish the waters of the mighty Deschutes. Cliffy informed us that this years permits and water levels were higher than any in the years past. The other fisherman were no problem but the record high water made for tough fishing. Riffles and eddys had become challenging fishing spots. Elevated boating skills were a must. No problem, we had 'The Expert' of all things fishing and the 05-06 H7HT 'Expert' to guide us.

We set off into the river and prepared for some mighty fine fishing, icy cold Budweiser beer and stunning photography form yours truly.

Stay Tuned....
GBCH

Neat Gardens West Coast

This is what my yard looked like after a member of Neat Gardens had his hand at it.

Game Bag

Where is Heston when we need him?

NEW ORLEANS — For waterfowlers, the news is official: Those record-breaking rains that created the flooding Mississippi River have left the northern breeding grounds in such great shape we can expect a bumper duck production this summer.

Then why was the president of Ducks Unlimited in such a glum mood recently?

Because the political conditions in Washington for the future of duck hunting are at their worst level in decades. Maybe ever.

The controlling Republican caucus in the House has renewed its attacks on the two most important waterfowl conservation programs. It plans deep if not total cuts to the North American Wetlands Conservation Act, and big hits to the conservation titles in the Farm Bill, including the critical Conservation Reserve Program.

Bottom line: They're hitting ducks in the uplands where they nest, and the wetlands where they spend the rest of their lives.

"I'm kind of stunned this morning," said Dale Hall, CEO of DU, the sportsmen's group that is the largest and most effective wetlands conservation organization in the world. "Just a few days ago it looked like we were making progress, convincing more than 100 House members that these programs were good for the economy, not just ducks.

"Then our folks in Washington called to say the mood had changed, and they were now talking about zero-out NAWCA in addition to deep cuts in CRP.

"It looks like we're right back where we were in the spring."

Last spring is when the newly installed GOP majority in the House decided the nation needed to drastically reduce the deficit. At first it seemed like the axe was being swung blindly, taking a slice out of everything. But the bill that passed had a distinct ideological bent: Anything to do with protecting fish, wildlife and the human environment was critically wounded if not killed — while subsidies to powerful business interests such as energy survived.

NAWCA saw all of its $47.6 million budget eliminated. Waterfowl managers say it is critical to the survival of waterfowl hunting because it is the major vehicle for protecting the nation's dwindling base of wetlands. Over the last 30 years it has protected 25 million acres of waterfowl habitat leveraging $800 million in government funds into $2 billion in matches from private partners.

The House bill was blocked by the Senate, and after long negotiations with the administration, the compromise that passed included $37.5 million for NAWCA.

Wildlife and hunting advocates felt they were making some headway with the House GOP by presenting an economic rather than environmental argument: The $5 billion a year the nation spends on various conservation programs puts $14 billion back to the treasury in taxes from people who make their livings in the industries supported by those programs.

"We kept telling them the cuts they want to make in these programs will just make the deficit worse," Hall said. "I really thought we were making some progress, because of the support we were getting on that letter."

That confidence was short-lived.

As the week drew to an end, the conservation lobby learned the budget-cutters were going back to their hard-line tactics of the spring. And as they turn their attention to the Farm Bill — one of Congress' most pork-laden vehicles — the conservation titles such as the CRP are getting most of the attention. That's because CRP, which pays farmers not to plant, doesn't have the support of the commodities markets, which support subsidies for cash crops.

"It's a fight we're going to have trouble winning," Hall admitted. "The commodities lobby is very powerful."

"The changing picture in the House is very troubling."

Louisiana's sportsmen should be especially troubled. Our GOP members have been voting in lockstep with these cuts. Many of them are members of the so-called Congressional Sportsmen's Caucus. If they keep supporting these kinds of moves, they can change that name to the sportsmen's carcass.

"With over 100 members of Congress in that sportsmen's caucus, it makes you wonder how something like this can happen," Hall said.

"What they're trying to do makes no sense — not for wildlife, and not for the deficit. We're going to have as big a fight on our hands now as we did in the spring."

___

Information from: The Times-Picayune, http://www.nola.com

Fly fishing trip 2011. Part 1.

So there I was, ticket in hand to fly out to the big city on the 2011 fly fishing trip. It was a long winter and nothing was more anticipated then the trip west to reunite with the less skilled hunters of the H7HT for some spring R&R. (I am the 'Expert' after all) As I drove to the airport my mind raced with the possibilities of this trip. Would we catch fish? Could we surpass the level of camaraderie of previous trips? Would Cliffy be attacked by a rattlesnake in his sleep? All valid questions but only one thing was truly important, who would shoot the most cans. More on that later.

The flight was uneventful and Fred G picked me up at the airport as planed. I immediately settled in at his home by eating most of his potato chips and having a cold chicken leg while he was hard at work. I took Lisa for the day and then it was off to my old employer to get a sweet 35mm digital SLR camera from old friend and poor golfer Clayton with which to take, what I planed to be, 1000 pictures. I thanked them for loaning me a tent last year for this trip, and would have asked to borrow another one but for one thing. Fred G. never returned it the first time. Nice! I finished the evening by eating a delicious dinner of Vodka Sauce at the best restaurant on the western seaboard, 3 Doors Down Cafe'. Of course Chucker "V Beered" me 4 times that night but I had been prepared for his shenanigans and came away unscathed.

The next day I spent some quality time with Lisa and the result is seen in these pictures. Fresh wax and full detail. Hey, what are friends for. Look at her shine. I even fixed the rear view mirror which came in handy later. Seems I did not leave any gas in the tank after all my driving to and fro. Upon going to the gas station after I left, Fred G. promptly ran out of gas on the way and cursed my name, until that is, he realized I took the time to reinstall the rear view mirror. Everything's cool.

On a related note: Fred Meyer only sells recycled BBs, made from plastic. What the heck is wrong with these Liberal, cheese eating, micro car driving, hipster idiots at Fred Meyer? Plastic BBs? Might as well be shooting them at targets made from hemp fiber and hummus. Idiots.

Stay tuned......
GBCH

An important message from the H7HT

Due to the agreement of May 21, 2011 the founding members of the H7HT have decided to make important changes to this blog, please read carefully.

1. Discontinuation of Facebook participation.

2. More posting of informational updates on the Blog.

3. The resumption of 'Tom Foolery' on a day to day basis.

Thank you for your time and may Heston be with you,
The H7HT.

The "Expert" is coming to town!

WIll it happen again?

Closer all the time....

31 days and counting

It's been a while since the last postings from us at the HOY7 Hunting Team. Cliffy had Ebola, Fred G with the nightmare of 'screaming turbos' and me stuck in mud season made for little to post about recently. But all that's about to change. It's only one thin month form the annual H7HT fishing trip down the mighty Dechutes river. This year promises to be better than ever. Why? Because we said so.

In the years past team members have been plagued by the lack of catching fish, sleep apnea, cold propane that refused to light, too few BBs for the BB gun, callous road signage, bad hair, hangovers and all sorts of other maladies. This year is going to be great! So stay tuned to find out all the preparations and plans for this years trip.


GBCH

Photo Essay: Spring on the Prairies

Photo Essay: Spring on the Prairies

Click on photo tour link above.

Early waterfowl biologists called the Prairie Pothole Region of the United States and Canada the "Duck Factory" because of its incredible productivity for breeding waterfowl. Dotted with millions of small "pothole" wetlands, this region remains this continent's most important waterfowl breeding ground. In especially wetland-rich areas, duck breeding densities can exceed 100 pairs per square mile. Following is a visual tour of the prairies and why it's so important to conserve this region's wetlands and grasslands for waterfowl and other wildlife.