Nothing new in hunting.....how about home improvement?

As found

As some of you that know me know, I always need a project.  This spring I decided to improve the storage capacity of our mud/laundry room by adding some cabinets to the bare logs.  The first step was finding just the right style of vintage, slightly beat up, rustic and inexpensive cabinet.  I found it at a complete junk show of a yard sale just down the street.  As I was looking through the dead hoarders junk on display I asked the nice lady holding the sale if she had any cabinets.  She did.  They were in the basement of the house and it was slated to be torn down.  If I was to remove them myself I could have them for a mere $50.  Done deal.  I carefully tore them out of the basement and took all the shelving and 1950's lumber I could.  You just don't find this kind of lumber at the Home Depot, it's solid and strong.  The 2x4's have a heft nothing like the lumber nowadays. 

Above the other door too

My plan was to reconstruct the cabinetry so that it fit my space and I started with making shelves and getting them in place.  After that I built the cabinets around them using most, but not all of the originals from my pile.  (Some of the cabinet doors are left over and will be added to the shed in an upcoming project.)  A litte paint and some ingenious hardware choices inspired by my Sweetie and you have the new laundry room storage you see here.  The cost of the entire project was just about $100 and took a few days.  Bam!  With the shelving left over I plan to make a nice folding table.  That's right, folding.  Like, laundry folding.  Not that other kind.  The real kind of folding that will occur this fall when the H7HT takes to the blind.  Soon.



I am now Retired.

Don't let anyone tell you it's not possible to live your dreams.  Because sometimes dreams come true.

ThankyouFred

I have been slacking on my blogging duties for awhile now.  First off I wanted to say that I am proud of  Bob for getting in a boat, and surviving.  I hope he was exceedingly polite, please. Thank you.  I assume they restocked the river after you guys pulled all the fish out of it.

I went to Portland a while back on a quick, surprise trip.  Bob made me promise to avoid chain restaurants for the duration of the trip and it was truly expert advice.  The occasion for the journey was Monica's birthday and we had no agenda except eating three meals a day.  Following more of Bob's advice we stayed at the Kennedy School which was a pretty unique experience, definitely would do that again.  We bumbled around Powell's book store, went to both Voodoo Doughnuts and even hung with the homeless in China Town.

We got reservations at Fred's store for Friday night, Monica's birthday dinner.  My only experiences with Fred have involved strong smells, slurred speech, copious amounts of profanity, too much wiki, blood and feathers.  I heard tales of Fred having a pretty nice little place in Portland but didn't really know what to expect.

I had no idea what a classy guy I was hanging out with.  Everything was amazing, Jackie brought out course after course of incredible food.  We had everything and dessert.  Dinner was the highlight of our trip, and it was shocking to see Fred in a professional setting. Thank you for making it such an awesome night, we both had a really great time.

Cliffy, you should come out with Fred this winter, early season.  Also come play golf with shotguns in a few weeks, Bob needs someone to carry his gun.  His heart can't take too much strain.

goose

A Friend of mine heard we hate geese, so I have these now!

The Float 2014

                                                                                                                                         

Pretty.  The one word to describe this year.  

This year was like all others, lots and lots of fishing, great food, BB gunnin, beer and booze.  Amazing fishing.

Cliffy picks us up bright and early at 6am.  Rain in the forecast did not scare us off.   After a short jaunt to the put in unload and load up, on the river at 830.  The river was the crowded, the most we have ever seen, this did not sway us.  Bob this year boughtin a license and a spinner rod with the hopes of catching the biggest, the most and the best fish.  He was on mark.  First stop Bob catches the first fish.  Damn!  Next stop Bob lands another monster, truly amazing, Cliffy and I are scratching our heads, spinning reel?  It's on.  After many stops we make it to the camping pull out.

We procure our normal spot.  We unpack and set camp.  I am immediately back in the water throwing flies.  My first cast I hook up a massive white fish.  It fought for nearly 20 minutes until I thoroughly exhausted it, we were undecided if I should even throw it back due to how I punished it.  Would it survive after such a battle royal?  Well I gave the big guy some mouth to mouth and revived it back to life and off it went up river, cause that's the way fish swim, to live to die another day.  Cliffy had some stank on his hook a couple of times, teaching these bastards not to F with the H7HT.  We start some damage on the cooler to make props we could put down with the Daisy.  There was also much wikki flowing too, it was so cold, which we welcomed on the scorching desert day.  Cliffy was on fire!  Knocking cans silly, making Bob and me drink over and over again.

Dinner arrived not a moment too soon.  This year was Mexi.  Pork Rojo tacos.  Delish.  After we all helped do the dishes we were back on the Daisy.  Still Cliffy was master, punishing every can like it was his red headed step brother.  These two guys even felt bad for me, remember that time I did all the shotguns?  Well they just volunteered.  Soon enough all of our bottles of wikki went dry.  Darkness fell upon us like goose poo on a golf course.  We sat up by the fire and told stories of slaying ducks and watching stars shoot by us.  After several hours we call it and hit the hay for the most restful night sleep, bellies full of chili rojo with beans.  A light rain lulled us into slumber.

We awake and have an awesome breakfast.  Farm fresh eggs, homemade sausage, griddle cakes with fresh strawberry jam and hot coffee.  We pack up and hit the river for some more catch and release, and there was much to be had by everyone.  Seems as though if our flies were wet there was a monster on the other end.  We get to the pull out high from our river experience.  As we are pulling out we hear other fishermen cursing the river coming out with no luck.  Of course they came out empty the H7HT caughtin all the fish.  

Yet another great float.  Beauty.

Do the DU, Monica is bonafide!

Won't be long now.

Three days from now

I sit on the prow

Of the fishing raft how

I try to fish now

 

 

My Captain Cliff

Bridges the rift

Between my old skiff

And the hunting I wish

 

That my days did hold

And while I still fold

The new dreams are told

Are of fish all cold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That elude my grasp

 And swim right past

The rod I cast

Never to be last

 

Of my desire to be

A fisherman thee

That gets maybe three

Of the elusive fishee

 

 

Maybe I can win

A fish that can swim

And a beer that gives in

To my ongoing grin

 

I'm not the only one thinking about the annual H7HT fishing trip.  You are too.  You say to yourself, "I wish I was going down the mighty Deschutes river and challenging fish to their final demise", but alas, you are not going.  We are.

All three of the Charter Members will soon be packing their gear and heading to the Warm Springs Indian pow-wow for a 2 day float trip.  We will fish.  We will camp.  We will shoot a BB gun with amazing accuracy.  But most of all, we will represent the H7HT.

It's spring and many people will be thinking about riding their bike or playing golf or working in their garden.  Not us.  We will bond. (disclaimer: I have been thinking of all those things.)  The Fish we catch will fry on the grill with amazing ease and the beer will be consumed with the same fervor. We will teach all other fishermen on the river how to be Men and they will look at us with respect and envy.  Furthermore, we will be Kings.

So just be aware of how you are missing out on this.  Be jealous. Be resentful.

And the following day be happy you are not the one with a big hangover counting the hours until you reach home.  RESPECT.
GBCH.

Notice the fisherman in the background, looking dissapointed.

Old School. New Old Spot.

These things need to be stopped, and we're just the guys to do it.

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/woman-claims-injured-pet-duck-sues-owner-275-000-article-1.1767496

The beauty of the Fishing Trip.

Floating Happily.

The beauty of the fishing trip is the float. Soon after the mighty Deschutes River has given us a relaxing and reinvigorating overload of water and fishing and scenery, we set about making a campsite worthy of Kings. Camping chairs, BB gun course, homey tents and a kitchen worthy of the finest Chefs and Captains of the food industry.  Soon after, the magic begins.  Dinner and  movie.  The 'movie' being shooting cans that have just been liberated from containment of their liquid oppressors. The conversation inevitably turns to the upcoming hunting season.  The season of the Greenie.

I can't wait to discuss the upcoming 'Expert' and how I will be that guy.  The cliffhanger of who will be the winner of the coveted 'First Greenie' and 'First Duck' of the season and maybe who can catch the most fish while hungover on the float out.  It won't be me.  I'll be relaxing in the boat.  Enjoying the float and trying not to interrupt the majesty of what I see. It is a beauty that is a long time coming.  I can't wait.  GBCH

GDMF Clider. The 'EXPERT' at everything.

http://player.vimeo.com/video/71281747

Until next year.

Double the Horses!

I am currently involved in a project that will allow Bob and I to fly to the blind at breakneck speed, clearing obstacles with ease.

"Can you please point the light in front of us please, I can't see, please....Thank you"

Turkey Season

Starts Tomorrow, Bob won't go.  Doesn't like the idea of waking up early, hiking in, setting up a decoy and calling birds in, also wiki.

It's On!

BUT NOT IN THIS BOAT
 

Seventeen!

Last night Clider and I went to the D.U. benefit dinner at the Wallace Elks lodge here in the Silver Valley.  It’s been a while since Ducks Unlimited has had a chapter in the valley and we wanted to go and represent the H7HT well.  Tickets were $35 for the event and prime rib dinner and there are always many prizes to win.  Long time readers will remember that I won a hunting rifle at the last D.U. dinner I attended in CdA years ago.  We hoped to bring some of that magic with us.  Going into the Elks Club was like stepping back in time and the upstairs was filled with guns and merchandise to win and lots of people.  Clider commented that people in the valley do benefits well, and he is right.  Fundraisers of all kinds, whether for organizations like D.U., the NRA, scholarships or for individuals in need,  are well attended.  I guess there were about 150+ people there and everyone was ready to spend. 

We both bought the $100 booklet of tickets and started in on the raffle prizes.  I was smitten with a cedar clad mailbox and bid heavily on that.  Clider, in addition to spreading his tickets around,  went after only the goose floaters.  He claims to have enough decoys already.  I bid into lots of different decoys and other items but had my eye on that mailbox.  Surely nobody else was interested and if I put enough tickets in I would win.  Rocky the miner was there too and Clider and he chatted as Rocky mindlessly tossed tickets into the mailbox raffle, no doubt trying to steal my prize.  We both had 3 gold tickets for a special raffle and I went for 3 different guns, Clider went for two guns and a layout blind.   

Other money raffles were the $20’ goose band’ for a beautiful D.U. edition Benelli autoloader with gold inlay, the $20 ‘shot game’ for another gun and the $10 ‘envelope game’ where everyone wins a prize.  We were all in.

After a long line for dinner of prime rib, overcooked beans, mashers and puffy rolls we were ready to claim our prizes.  The live auction was first and I tried my best to convince Clider that he needed every item that came up for bids to no avail.  The first gun went to a non-H7HT member sitting next to us and raffle prizes started flying off the shelves.  A twinge of remorse came as I watched some nice flocked greenies, that would have looked great in our spread, go to someone else.  The first big money raffle was the ‘shot raffle’ and Clider was in.  The announcer mentioned the gun name followed by the number 17.  The very same number as on the bottom of his shot glass, winner!  Microseconds after saying the number 17, and as Cliders hand was going up in victory, announcer man follows with the caliber.  Seems the 17 was the model number, not the winner.  And so it went for the next hour or so.  The H7HT sat by and watched as other people walked off with our stuff.  Rocky the miner won the layout blind and a fine thermos and we were happy for him.  A guy sitting at the table behind us got my mailbox.  We’re pretty sure from his reaction that it went straight to the pile of stuff in the back of his shed. My old boss at DSM won a BB gun and Kids bow hunting kit for his daughters and a big spender from up north won tons of goods and services.  The time finally came for the ‘goose band’ raffle.  I prayed out loud to Heston for us both.   The beautiful Benelli went to an old man near the front and all the other prizes had found good homes too.

The very last game was the ‘envelope game’ where everyone wins a prize.  Clider got a Cabellas coupon and a duck call.  I got a cabellas coupon and a baseball card.  On the drive home we figured that the event raised many thousands of dollars (Thirty? Forty?) for the ducks, and wasn’t that the reason we were there in the first place?  The H7HT doesn’t need to win all the time like we do in the duck blind, we just need to be there to help the ducks and D.U. with our hard earned dollars.  As a consolation prize Clider loudly blew his new duck call for the entire ride home.  Sweet! 

When I got to work this morning I looked up my baseball card on the interweb as a joke.  It’s a 1959 Bazooka Billy Pierce card, he played for the White Sox and was a hall of famer in 59’.  The first hit was from Ebay and I clicked on it.  Identical card to mine in a plastic case selling for $1,200.  Winner!  Then I looked around more and realized it’s worth from $6 to $20 in mint condition, the one on Ebay must be a misinformed joke.  I can still hear Cliders duck call ringing in my ear.

GBCH

Do you Dove Hunt?

Would you if you were driven around in one of these and never had to leave the comfort of your seat?  H7HT trip to Texas?


More contraptions here:  http://truckyeah.jalopnik.com/a-photo-essay-of-the-intense-trucks-texans-use-to-hunt-1550481825/@tcraggs22

Local Woman Narrowly Avoids Mallard Rape

This was in my Facebook feed this morning, they were trying to break into Monica's cousin's house!  No one is safe from mallards

"For those of you that know me, this almost ruined my morning. They were blocking the door to my house. I almost stepped on him. Ugh."

Update 03-03-14

Sure, I've been skiing.  Sometimes even with Clider. But what have the other H7HT members been up to?

I don't know either because none of them seem to be posting.

Maybe I can keep all the thousands of readers up to date on my exploits better and maybe, just maybe, the other authors will too.

Heston Bless.
Bob D.

Inversion.

A temperature inversion is a thin layer of the atmosphere where the normal decrease in temperature with height switches to the temperature increasing with height. An inversion acts like a lid, keeping normal convective overturning of the atmosphere from penetrating through the inversion. The temperature at any given location is determined by a number of factors.  However, with all things being equal the temperature goes down about 3.5 degrees per thousand feet of elevation gain.  So here at Silver Mountain Resort the temperature at the top should be about 9.5 degrees colder than at the base.  In addition, our base area is higher than most of the surrounding land so we are often up to 10 degrees colder than Kellogg.

An inversion is when the air at lower elevations is colder than higher up.  Inversions are most likely to occur on calm nights following days with moderate temperatures.  Cold air is denser than warm air so it flows downhill and pools in the valleys.  This is over simplified, but you get the idea.

So why don't we have inversions all the time?  Three reasons:
A. When the air is consistently cold without dramatic daytime warming, there isn't enough difference in density to cause the air to move downhill. 
2. When it is windy, the air is sufficiently mixed to even out the density.
D. It's been butt ass cold, so this inversion is from 2 weeks ago.  Enjoy the picture.

G, A, F, (octave lower) F, C

On my last day hunting in the great state of Idaho I dropped a big ole' tanker of a goose.  When I came home I knew I had to cook that thing up the right way, the way the former 'Expert' of years gone by showed me the last time we cooked a goose, on the Barbie Q.  Lots of daylight was left and I had some chores to do around the homestead so I started to shovel left over snow.  Then I started to think.  Where would I set the mini Webber so that I could have a good place for slow cooking the beast I had wrapped in bacon.  (Turkey bacon cause of my weakened heart)  I had an idea.

After much shoveling, and a thought that the Webber looked like a UFO, I created this.  It means something.  Dark side of the moon baby!  (for those of you that don't get this, watch some classic movies for Heston's sake)  This means something!
 

Done.

Late last night I had a vision.  More of a thought.  What is an unpopular dick like myself going to do tomorrow?  I don't have any good books to read. Being the last day of hunting I figured what the hell, I'll go slay some ducks and become the sole possessor of the coveted second place.  Second place is truly coveted because we all know the reality.  Awake with a small head tickle pack up the gear and head out.  I get in the truck turn on the radio and do you know what song was playing? No not "Susie Q" from CCR cause that would be real scary, but "Sunday Bloody Sunday."  An omen right?!  I arrive at the lot and it's packed, never seen it this packed, there was even a vagrant breaking into trucks, and police.  A pretty chilly walk with a stiffy in my fay.  Walk past a few guys setting up and get the exact place that I wanted.  Threw out my blocks, made a decent blind, and all the other morning rituals.   I'm feeling really good about making the effort to be there.  The stars are out and there is a terrific moon. Morning fly was sparse to say the least. A large flock of mallards (I have no idea but it sounds really good) fly down towards the Old New Spot and in passing they were greeted by a friendly round of sky busting with a round of expletives from said sky busters. Did I mention that a couple of Malakas set up across from me?  Every time they did their busting it would rain on me because they couldn't shoot in front of them they had to shoot at me.  That was the way the morning went.  Me sitting there watching these wankers shoot at everything that came close, including brants.  They finally picked up and left at an especially early time of 8:15, probably due to cold, out of ammo, or because they were lit up like a christmas tree.  They packed up their one duck that they blasted out of the sky about 150 yards out and made like the wind and left.  I think finally maybe I can now do some hunting.  Not really. A lone green head bastard flew through my spread and then some pintails.  With a lighter malfunction and a dry bottle I decide to call it a year.  Can I say it was a bad year?  Yeah I think so.  Congratulations to Clider.  Hopefully next season  Idaho can make it to Oregon so they could see what it's really like to hunt.

GBCH

Clider?

 

The Real Founders Tour 2013

The whole truth and nothing but the truth.  

I was greeted at the airport.  

Then we hunted.  

Then I was dropped off at the airport.

Add caption

I used to hunt with this guy
His name was Dallas
He threw a baseball 
Like a old man's phallas

One duck he slayed 
In all of our days
It was not a Greenie
And for that he pays

He's not a slayer
Nor a good payer
of the ducks we hope for
We sing a prayer

When they come in 
We hope we win
To cleanse their sin
And bring them in

Yet at the end
Clider pays in
And will cleanse our sins
For next years wins

GBCH

Everyone is wrong,

1. What is wind chill temperature? back

A. The wind chill temperature is how cold people and animals feel when outside. Windchill is based on the rate of heat loss from exposed skin caused by wind and cold. As the wind increases, it draws heat from the body, driving down skin temperature and eventually the internal body temperature. Therefore, the wind makes it FEEL much colder. If the temperature is 0 degrees Fahrenheit and the wind is blowing at 15 mph, the wind chill is -19 degrees Fahrenheit. At this wind chill temperature, exposed skin can freeze in 30 minutes. 

2. Can wind chill impact my car's radiator or exposed water pipe? back
A. The only effect wind chill has on inanimate objects, such as car radiators and water pipes, is to shorten the amount of time for the object to cool. The inanimate object will not cool below the actual air temperature. For example, if the temperature outside is -5 degrees Fahrenheit and the wind chill temperature is -31 degrees Fahrenheit, then your car's radiator will not drop lower than -5 degrees Fahrenheit.

Idaho: 1-14-14 The Last Day.

Today was the day Clider and I were supposed to be returning from Portland Town after Cili'n for the King.  We were unable to make the trip due to my poor choices in automobiles and mechanics.  I hate the XC 70. We did get the chance to have one last day at Anderson Lake and we made the best of it by leaving with just enough time to set up and watch the first ducks of the day spin over our heads as we settled in.  I was reaching for my bottle and gun while Clider was loading a shell.  They were majestic in flight and we marveled at not only their beauty, but the fact that they were actually there.  When they left we toasted the morning and the H7HT.  As we sat, they took off form the spot where our decoys were.  We never saw them land.  Greenie!

There were actually ducks flying and many geese around but none of them wanted to come and see our hastily put together blind and perfect decoy spread.  The spinner did not have a charge which was just fine and we had the jerk rig set and working.  We spoke of not calling but we just had to make the attempt and I, for one, think that it made the difference between them coming to us or the many geese sitting on the ice in the middle of the lake.  Of  course they chose the lake, but don't you feel like you're doing something when you're calling?  I do.  Clider had to take a walk.  I took a shot at passing geese, way far away, just to shooten my gun.  Of course I missed.

I always feel that Clider taking a walk is for the best.  I get to sit and wait for the ducks to be scared up and fly right into our spot.  I also get to take a nap, which is just what I did.  I woke to the sound of ducks but what happened is that I saw nothing anywhere and was worried that Clider had died on the ice.  A good 15 min. had passed and I had no idea where he and Peat were.  After a few minutes I saw them sneaking out onto the ice a good 1000 yards off and attempting to jump some fat bastard geese which then took off and flew in my direction.  Being that all the geese that had flown anywhere near 'The Tip' never came in I felt that I had nothing to look for.  I was wrong.

Leaning back, and being comfortable, I heard the geese come from my right.  They settled down right into the blocks 20 yards to my right and I had only a Black Cloud Close Range in the chamber.  Then 4 big ole bastards lofted down from the left and as the spun over my head I shot.  Wing shot fold.  Quick as a Benelli totin' machine I shotten again, this time with a 3" 2 shot shell and the big tanker was down right on the grassy knoll behind me.  I was up and after him in a flash.  He played dead but after I put my foot on his neck and smashed him into the mud he knew it was Bob D that had him.

Tomorrow I eat goose. (perhaps wrapped in bacon and on the grill just like the former Expert taught me.)
All in all it was a good last day on the hunt.  Heston blessed me with a final day Cil and it was good to hunt with the 'Expert' once again.  Fred G and I are tied for 2nd place and that is a good way to finish and knowing that the Oregon Chapter has at least a couple more chances to slay gives me hope that they will try.  And maybe they will even tell you aboot their exploits here on this very Blog.
GBCH.

Idaho, the last month or so...

Cold in the Idaho

It has been cold and nothing is flying, but the h7ht season goes to the bitter end.  Fred may have been right when he declared the Idaho season over.  I'm just going to sum up the last few weeks here, I know I've been out at least once a week, sometimes twice but it all kind of blends together now.

Otis and I arrived one morning in a spot that was holding ducks and gooses the day before, as we put out blocks another group of hunters setup across from us maybe 300 yards away.  Some divers came in but we didn't shoot because we were holding out for our limit of greenies.  After twenty minutes about thirty mallards came in and started landing in the spread, we both shot and both scored green headed bastards, Otis's was especially fat and mean looking.  After this we had some geese set up a couple of times and our neighbors would wait until the birds were committed and then shoot into the water to scare off our birds, real nice guys.

Otis and Peat getting away from our crappy neighbors

Another day we set up over the pass on Coeur d'Alene lake, tons of birds came in and sat about a 100 yards from our blind, refusing to come closer.  After a long wait we packed up and moved back over to Medimont, three more hours of nothing flying.  On the way back we stopped by Killarney to find over a hundred birds sitting on the edge of the channel.  We care fully snuck in and Peat scared them off.  We knew it was a waste of time but we sat down anyway, nothing had been flying all day.

About twenty minutes late the cloud of birds started working it's way towards us, we weren't hidden very well but we just sat there.  Another flock came into view, both were close fifty mallards each.  They circled and flared, over and over again.  It was loud, really loud.  They were right over our heads, forty or fifty birds had already landed 40 feet in front of us.  It was so overwhelming that it took a second for my brain to register that it was time to shoot.  The first two shots went through a dime sized hole between ducks, it seemed physically impossible to miss but I managed to do it.  The last shot was careful and slow, a nice big greenie.  Otis pulled down a hen.

We sat back down still shaking with excitement when they came back.  We had some great pass shot opportunities but we knew they wanted to land so we waited.  They landed out of range and we sent Peat out to scare them off again.  They came back a third time and all but one settled in out of range.  The first shot missed the second shot missed and the third shot, the third shot connected but by this time it was behind me and dropped into 12ft tall grass.  By a stroke of luck it happened to be lying next to the trail we came in on.  Birds want to be where they want to be, it took a lot of work to get them to leave.

I have gone alone quite a bit lately, I set out a spread but there is nobody to see it.  After and hour and a half or so I pack up and start hiking, along the river, along the sloughs and basically anywhere I know of that holds ducks.  Mallards, buffleheads, geese and a few goldeneyes are all that is left, so if I stumble across something it's usually a greenie as the hens seem to have pretty much vacated too.  Most of the time there is nothing but sometimes if I spend enough time walking the freezer will start to load up.  Peat gets restless if we don't get enough activity during the week, so jump shooting has become the name of the game lately.

Hiking with Peat yesterday

Yesterday the river reached a new low and I was unable to put the boat in anywhere.  Peat and I setup near the ramp at Mud Hole and waited, packed up at 8:30 and then hiked from 8:30-3:00. We got two gooses on the river, a greenie in the channel at the point, a goldeneye on the river near medimont and two bufflehead on killarney.  I snuck up on a goose at the end of the day on the river near killarney.  After stalking him down river for a ways I was finally close enough to jump him, but before I could move he died like the one Peat pulled out of the river last year.  He just laid his head down and gave up.  I stepped out from behind cover and sent Peat to bring him in.  The goose immediately came back to life and flew away, stuff like this happens a lot.  But I have figured out how to creep up on ducks pretty well, geese are nearly impossible, I think I just got lucky yesterday.

I am already excited for flocks of decoying birds next fall, I am putting meat in the freezer and it's more a lot more fun than grouse hunting but I really miss decoying birds.  There have been some misadventures in the boat,some falling on ice, frozen guns and Peat isn't super excited about submerging his naked butthole in freezing cold water, but I feel like I am starting to think like a duck.  I have had a great season  and am still hoping for some sort of ciling for the king trip.  Either way I am super pumped about next season and the boat blind, I have a list of places that I have explored this year and the blind is going to be the ticket.  Fred and Cliffy need to come up early enough to get out while everything is still holding water, together we will slay.  We may need to make a couple trips to get everything and everyone in but I think it's going to be awesome.

The bufflehead decoyed, the rest were hiking birds.

Easy money.

My Sweetie has been dog sitting, yes, that's a dog, for her brother and sister in law over in Coeur d'Alene.  I went over yesterday on my day off to keep her company and to test the waters of their Redwood style hot tub.  It was delightful. We had a nice fat cheeseburger and after a good soak drifted off to sleep but not before she told me about the turkeys that would wake us up in the morning.  See, her sister in law feeds the deer in her semi suburban back yard and I think most H7HT readers would agree that that's a recipe for disaster.  The deer have become so accustomed to being fed they no longer have any inhibitions to people.  My Sweetie, as per the arrangemet for dog sitting, has to feed the zoo as well and they have been eating from the bowl in her hand.  Bad for wild animals?  Bad for their instincts?  Bad for the neighbors?

One amazing side effect is the turkeys.  I walked the dog (the Lab) so that she could sleep in this morning  and I heard the turkeys up on the hillside.  When she went out to feed the deer a line of turkeys, 25 to 30 deep, came along for the buffet.  They yielded to the deer but not by much and ate like little piggys.  I watched in amazement as dinner for the next 3 years chomped away just feet from me.  I was standing outside on the deck and they had no fear.  A slingshot and some triple BB would have done the job and I wondered if Clider would have gone into epileptic shock.  Being 'The Expert' he would have been able to easily hand catch a turkey, thus adding to his legend as the Rambo of the H7HT.  I have included these pictures to prove what irresponsible game management can get you. 
GBCH

Not shown, the other 10 deer, including a 4 point buck.

Oregon Update

Mucho apologies about the lack of posting on my end this past month,  but thought I'd give y'all an update for those interested:

Well moving, working and house shopping has dominated most of my time though I have made it out a few times.  Let's revisit December shall we.  We had  a very cold December.  Water would splash up on the  blocks bills and freeze, wet gloves would freeze.  I even got mud in the buckles on my pack and guess what....it froze too!  It may have not have been as cold as Idaho, but it was damn cold for the Oregon Chapter.  The first day, Fred and I attempted to wade out to the island but we both ran into quicksand.  Ya, quicksand!  Fred got stuck while in the water but was able to sit down and wiggle his way out.  I was stuck on dry land with one leg buried almost up to my thigh. It was probably a funny sight trying to watch Fred pull me out with a stick from the distance, but I assure you it was no fun.  Finally, after Fred's suggestion, I layed on my stomach and was able to push my way out with my free leg.  We hunted from the mainland that day and took no shots.  The next time we went out, we also hunted from the mainland.  Fred built a stellar blind and the closest we even came to seeing a duck was on our hike out looking at a man wearing U of O swag.  Though he looked tasty and easy to clean, we kept walking.

Then there was Friday, first hunt of the New Year.  I took the day off from work and headed out to Sauvies with my 9 fingertips.  I got in line 3 hours before shooting time.  Though I was back....way back in line, I felt optimistic with it being the New Year and all.  I felt like I was going to get on the board.  When Finally getting into the check in station, I took the last blind...Mudhen 7.  As I remember, this blind sucked.  Lots of weeds in the water and no place for ducks to lock in, but I took it anyways as I knew where it was in the dark and there was only 30 min to shooting time.  To my suprise, water was way up.  The blind was surrounded by it and the weeds were under it.  Things were starting to look up.  I busted out Leroy and looked everywhere for his pull string with no luck so I went just straight decoy.  Gun shots started ringing just as I was finishing up my spread and loading my gun in the foggy haze.  10 minutes into the hunt a big fat greenie came in.  I'm talking a big fat greenie too, not a little skinny one, more like Fred's goose.  When his feet came down and he showed me his man boobs, I raised my weapon, put my bead on him and took a moment to enjoy my first pre-kill of the season.  I clicked my safety into the 'CIL' position, I uh I uh I uh clicked my safety.......c'mon safety, click into the 'CIL' position!  Nope, greenie was gone and I was stuck with a gun that had a jammed safety.  I spent the next 20 min of prime time getting my safety unjammed.  Then the skybusting started to come alive.  There were lots of ducks moving all morning up until 10:30 when I left, but I just couldn't take it anymore.  The guy next to me was taking 60 yard shots, the guy across from him was taking 60 yard shots and the guy across from me was shooting at birds on the water 50 yards out.  No duck wanted to stick around and choose a spread to land in.

Let's revisit my season so far real quick- had my gun knocked into a river by dogs, got stuck in quicksand, mud in pack buckles that froze, man wearing U of O swag starting to look tasty, 9 fingertips, can't find Leroys pull string, jammed safety that cost me the biggest/fattest greenie since ancient Rome and 0.0 ducks per Cliffy.  I hope for some new mojo in time for CIL'in for the King.