Welcome Our New Member.

Andy!

The man formerly known as Clayton (AKA Clayton the poacher) will heretofore be known as Andy. The name Clider gave him.  It is becoming a tradition that the newest member has the responsibility of naming the New Guy.  Clider, named by Cliffy, received that honor as someone finally took up the challenge of joining the team.  Andy was just a skier with a bad knee when he called and told me that he re-purposed a Browning over under as his new duck murdering device.  And like any new hunter we asked him to come hunt with us in the tradition of showing people how we do it here at the H7HT.  Turns out the crazy bastard said yes.  Big mistake.

You will soon hear about how Andy braved the elements to take up the mantle of the 4th spot vacated by Cliffy this year.  Seems Cliffy's boss at the candy store wants him to run around with lollipops and pop rocks falling from his hands and out of his pockets at all hours of the day.  It must be tough for Cliffy to get 'The Sugar' while a new guy slays his birds.  And slay he did.

This picture is the only one I could take as he was generally shooting the whole time.  The whole time!  Notice the 'steely' glint in his eye as he shot steel for the first time. Sure his old over under may have only shot 2 3/4" lead but after shooting some ducks with real mans ammo he realized that becoming part of the H7HT is the greatest accomplishment of his life*. Welcome Andy.

GBCH.

*likely not the greatest accomplishment of his life.

I Only Shoot Greenies

My seat is in the reeds up close on the left.

Day 3 of the regular season comes on the heals of a strange weekend.  I have no photos from the Founder's Tour, and I was in a strange place mentally during it.  I will leave the story telling to the founders, and I will touch on why I was out of sorts in a forthcoming post.  The only thing I have for you here about that weekend, is that I wasn't shooting very well.  In fact, my shooting was possibly the worst it's been in years.  I shotten at a lot of locked up and great looking birds, but after around 30 shells, I had two greenies in my hands.  I'm not complaining about the birds, they were working all day, it was me.

Another note from the tour was that scouting works, and that I should do it.  So after a long lunch on Tuesday I had a solid plan for what to do when contractors kicked me out of my office to do work on Wednesday.  I was on the road at 1:00, and headed to Spot X.  Bob D was exhausted from taking care of Fred all weekend so he passed on the opportunity  to get "limits of greenies".  Who can blame him, I mean Fred G walked in Bob's shoes for an afternoon and it nearly killed him, imagine doing that for a whole week. Napping was earned fair and square.

I had determined that this spot was where the birds would be loading into for the night, so imagine my surprise when easily a thousand mallards took off at the sight of my kayak. I was fairly sure I just scared everything out for the day, but at the same time I've seen birds keep coming back to the place they really want to be.  I threw out my little spread, hid my boat, and settled in for what was to come.

After just ten minutes or so my first henny landed just 25 feet away, followed by two more singles.  I only shoot greenies, so naturally I waited.  It wasn't long before a pair of drakes landed close by and then swam into the spread.  I booglie booed them and managed to knock down the one on the right. It was a little touch and go, but was able to finish him off a ways out.  The two feet of boot sucking mud made every step a chore, and I found myself wondering why I didn't hop in my boat.  After I was completely soaked in sweat, I settled back in and waited.

More hens came in, and then what can only be described as a mallard tropical storm descended on my blind. I was surrounded by hundreds of mallards, maybe a thousand. they were moving in every direction, and they were landing just a few feet from me by the droves.  I was so taken in by the whole thing that filming it seemed more appropriate than shooting, but in my struggle to get the camera out I was identified by the swarm and they started leaving. I picked one out and dropped it with a single shot.

Over the course of the next two hours there were a few lulls, but birds were working for the most part. Singles and doubles were committing left and right. My furthest shots were at maybe 50 feet, and the closest were at 20. I had a henny get so close I tried batting it away with my barrel.  After my weekend of misses I had come to the conclusion, I have gotten used to shooting close. I passed on a lot of shots, not wanting to assume a gender, and I only shot at birds I was confident about. I bagged every bird I shot at, even if it took a few shots.

Just 15 minutes before the official end of shooting for the day I was able to start pulling up my spread.  It was a good thing too, I had a Zumba class to get to, and there wasn't enough time to stay till the end, and hit class.  I think I  might be the only person in history that went straight from the duck blind to Zumba.

My name is Clider, and I only shoot Greenies!

Day 1&2 of the regular season.

Day 1 of duck season saw me up in the mountains camping in a yurt, and chasing deer and elk in circles.  It was the first time since I started hunting that I missed opening weekend, and so I figured I might as well miss two weeks worth and give Bob D and crew a little head start.

Day one for me started out with boats and Bob, an unusual combination for a man that hates boats.  But there we were, paddling out to a spot just East of the blind.  We set a small spread, covered up the boats and got ready for the slaying. It wasn't long before greenie numero uno of the 2017 season came in from the left, and Bob decided to just let me have it since I had a late start.  I took him up on his offer and landed my first bird.

With one on the board things were looking up.  Soon another greenie came in on my right, and as he was about to land, I pulled up and completely whiffed it.  He laughed his way out of sight and we went back to waiting.  As the day went on I was able to keep my shooting to a minimum and pull down another two green headed bastards. Sitting at 3 and O, I watched a nice fat, slow greenie come in from my side. I let it pass over to Bob's side, and he just sat there looking down so as not to disturb it at it lazily floated above our spread. Bob D decided to let greenie live another day and didn't so much as shoulder his gun.

We enjoyed the great weather for a little while and then headed back the car.  It was a great way to start the season, and it set me on a path that I will try to maintain for as long as I can stand it. I am Clider, and I only shoot greenies.

Day 2 of  the season was really just an hour and a half.  I had done a little mountain biking and decided I'd try my hand at a quick evening hunt.  I headed up the road to SPOT X, place that I'm not going to identify on here anymore, as it only takes a couple people to overload it and god knows how many locals are reading this.  I did a lot of kayak dragging due to the water being low, but after a lot of messing about I was finally out on the water.

10 blocks went out in minutes, and then I settled into my chair and waited for the onslaught. It was at this time I remembered how important scouting was.  Nothing was flying, and after an hour I hadn't even seen a seagull. The time was winding down for the end of shooting time, and the wind was ripping away all my body heat.  The sunset was beautiful, and I was about ready to pack it in when a trio of divers came into view fully locked up. They landed far out away from me, but it gave me a little hope.

Just ten minutes before it was time to pack up a pair of mallards made a B-line for my tiny spread. I waited until they were about 5 feet off the deck, and then unloaded my first two rounds in front of the greenie. He was battling the wind, and so my shots were well ahead of him.  I corrected for the crazy amount of wind and dropped him him right into my spread.  The day was over, and I was happy to have seen ducks, let alone be taking one home.

Bob D. The 'Expert'.

 Hey it's me Bob D again. Seeing how nobody else in the H7HT goes hunting once the season is under way it's only natural that I have become The 'Expert' in only 2 short days.  This morning I had a choice to make between kayak hunting again or going to The Blind and seeing what kind of problems the big wind and rain storm caused the other day.  After loading up a cougar shell the walk was downright pleasant and, other than the knowledge that the same 3 1/2" red shell shooting bastard had been to our ridiculously expensive blind before us, everything looked great.  I put out a jerk rig, spinner and all my beautiful Dakota decoys and settled in for what was sure to be a banner day. I was treated to a silent morning that slowly woke up and gave me the pleasure of whistling wings greeting the morning light.

The second set of ducks flying after shooting hours had one with a bright white belly and I took the shot. One shot one splash.  Only problem was that it was a widgeon. Seems I'm great at shooting widgeon.  The next set that came in had another white belly and in my race for power and glory I two shotted another widgeon but this one hit the water and ran. Well, it swam actually.  My grandfather Clyde was watching from above and surely mad as hell as I waded out at least 200 yards before the water was up to my chest and my waders had no more to give. I had to let the bird go. My first NR (non retrieve) of the season and a sobering lesson about taking only the good clean shots and knowing your ability to retrieve.  I was feeling down.

After watching a few sets fly by and getting back into the spirit of things by beading up some brandt I was ready when the first greenie came in, looking to land in my perfect spread. One shot, one splash. I missed on a nice greenie coming straight in because I only saw him at the last second and after a few more sets came by I was ready for anything. The second greenie came by shortly after and although he was fatter than the first he was no less dead after a nice second shot of 3 1/2" power.  At this point I was now The 'Expert'.  See, only drakes count and an NR is a negative towards that count no matter the bird. While I was happy to be The 'Expert' I would rather have only 1 greenie and no NR's at all.  Grandpa Clyde and all.

After the greenie that snuck up behind me while I was taking a comfort break, I watched lots of birds fly into the Pylons at the end of the lake. Perhaps Clider and I will go there tomorrow.  I guess waiting for snow has it's rewards.

GBCH.

Day One as Reported by Bob DaFolder

Today was a very strange opener for me here in the great state of Idaho.  I will list all the things that do not coincide with a normal opening day for me but one thing should come as no surprise, I went to The Point. Well, two things actually, but more about that later.

First off you will be surprised that I arrived at The Point by boat. I hate boats right? Not my new kayak though.  I was loaded up and ready to go this morning in my new sit on top kayak with all the necessary gear for a regular day.  The paddle out was simple as can be and saved me tons of time and hassle over the normal walk out.  I didn't even need a cougar shell in my Benelli because no cougar can swim as fast as I can paddle.  Stupid cougar.  The kayak easily held 10 blocks, my roto, a tripod chair, gun, my gear bag and even extra clothing in the off chance I had to take a swim.  The fog coming off the river and lake was no match for the worlds most powerful headlamp and after a few minutes of vertigo I learned to look at the water in front of the boat, not the fog. The trip took only a few minutes. I arrived quickly and not covered in sweat.  The kayak was simple to hide and set up was easy.

Second thing was that I had not built a blind at The Point yet.  Unfortunately someone else had spent what I can only assume was a buck fifty building a crappy blind by cutting down big chunks of tree branches from way too close by.  They required a good remodel and in addition a cleaning of 3 1/2 shell hulls from their likely poor shooting.  I settled in by myself.  That's the third thing, I was alone.  Normally Clider would not miss the chance to be the first Idahoan to shoot, cil and claim 'Expert' status.  Seems he was too busy attempting to shoot bambi or elkie or maybe a grouse.  Who can really say what he's been up to. He never posts anyway.

I saw ducks, brandt, geese, divers, mergansers that I thought were Pinnys at first, but I never had a good shot at any Greenies.  They were around but not interested in The Point and my decoys.  It was a nice morning and after a bit I decided to check in with my phone which was dead.  Realizing that people might be worried about me the kayak saved the day.  I paddled back to the Jeep and plugged in to recharge and calm any fears that I was dead hunting alone. The fact that you can get to the parking lot and back in only a few minutes was an eye opener. I dig my kayak. It was typical point hunting after that.  A few chances but nothing good and no ducks fell.

This brings me to a new possible X-factor in the land of the H7HT.  Old friend of ours and owner of a shitty ACL/MCL, Clayton, has decided to buy himself a gun.  Well, another gun really. This one shoots shotshells rather than military rounds.  Seems he wants to be a slayer.  It also seems that he has an Uncle who has a penchant for murdering ducks as well.  He went out opening day and immediately solidified his reputation by dropping two pinnys and something else.  Of course this year you are only allowed one pintail so that makes him C.T.P. right off the bat.  Maybe, just maybe someday he will hunt with other H7HT members and learn the ways of our team.  Until then he just has to stay Clayton The Poacher.  Included is a picture of the two of them in a boat on the Oregon coast coming from a day of shooting more ducks than the whole team combined. 'Me and my Uncle, went riding down, south Colorado, west Texas bound'

Stay tuned.
GBCH.

Breaking News.....

Fred G. predicts Trump gains presidency while he was 'Expert' years ago. What's next, greenies fall from sky? Cliffy quits job to join Founders Tour? Peat willingly retrieves ducks? Bob D. falls in love with deep cold water? Clider decides scouting 'for pussies'?  All these questions and more will be answered, or not, in the coming weeks.  Stay tuned.

How Can We Afford This? Volume.

Another $400,317.96 spent rebuilding and improving The Blind this year in preparation for the new hunting season.  Clider and I carved some time out of our busy schedule to cold start the boat, fire up the dog, head out to Anderson and get the party started. (No, I don't use the Oxford comma!) The pictures you see here reflect the half way and a complete build out phase of The Blind and another of a beautiful sunset with ducks flying close by.

Speaking of ducks, there were tons of ducks flying around and loafing in Anderson today. Many of them were mallards and lots of them looked fat. The little area just east of The Point which always seems to hold ducks is now in play thanks to the new kayak situation. I'm sure there will be more to report on that matter soon enough.

On the Founders Tour front, it will be happening early this year. The unfortunate news is that Cliffy will not be able to attend due to something called a job.  Here at the H7HT we do not agree with jobs that keep you from slaying. Let's start a petition to get Cliffy fired. Also, new digs have been booked for our home away from home. Although we will be hard pressed to beat the luxury and class from last years accommodations we will be steps away from the lake and have a shower that does not make your skin crawl. Literally.

Let's get this party started!
GBCH

Something Hunting Related This Summer.

The last couple days I have been experimenting with my fear of duck boats. As you all remember I once created the finest duck boat to ever grace the water of North Idaho.  Then I sold it because I was afraid.  Then Clider bought a boat and immediately made mine look pedestrian.  Well now I think I may be in the market for a boat of a different kind.

Last year not only was I jealous of the sheer totals that The Expert put up, but also of some of the places he was able to hunt.  When Clider did post, which wasn't often, you could count on at least one photo of some awesome place he reached by virtue of his sit on top kayak.  I certainly didn't want to try it in the middle of frozen water wader flooding death season, but now it's 95 degrees out and the lakes and rivers are totally swim-able. So yesterday I borrowed his other boat.

I like it. For 2 days I've been plying the waters of Killarney and Anderson lake trying to see if I'd feel more comfortable moving at the speed of Nanny and Grampy.  It seems stable and easy to maneuver but of course I'm not wearing 7 layers of clothing and deadly waders. I was able to climb into the boat from a floating position and I really had to rock and lean into the thing to fall out of it,  Hmmmmm? Today I cut some branches from our massive pussy-willow out front and brought the sprigs with me to plant some in front of The Point and The Blind. It's more likely they will become a snack for a moose or deer than grow into perfect duck blinds from which we can slay massive quantities of ducks.

So there you have it. Something hunting related this summer.
GBCH

Certain Non Death

What We Should Have Done Differently. By Bob D. (Former Expert)

Part One:

In the following picture I will use the perfect 20/20 vision of hindsight to explain what we should have done differently. This may become a reoccurring feature just because there is nothing to blog about these days. I also like to this as a way of seeming smarter than I am, here goes.

On windy days ducks congregate in small groups nearer to the shore to escape the wind. We should have grouped our decoys closer in towards shore in a small but close groups. We also should have shotten every duck that flew in range. They generally make one pass unless things look perfect.

I'm a 20/20 genius!

Where Are They Now?

Peat the dog? I remember him as just a young pup with so much potential. At first he only wanted to be with the Idaho chapter H7HT members on any excursion.  He amazed me by going into the water and brought back ducks I had shotten. Peat even got to know Waylon who clearly was more 'retreiver' and 'molester' then Peat and his muddled lineage. His good boy factor never wavered but his desire to wade into the coldest of cold waters rivaled my own. Then, as the years went on, I realized he was just there to distract me from shooting ducks by sitting in my lap and pretending to be bored. Where is he now?

Chet? Aw Shit!

It's as if a member of the H7HT family passed away today. Chet provided us with the perfect role model of how you should treat your team members. Pure disdain. He also provided us with tons of verbal material designed to scorn and ridicule. We will miss him terribly. We are now offically 'stewed, butt wad.'

Remember When I Shot Ducks?

Yea, those were great times.

The Final Chapter 2016-2017

The Germans bombed Pearl Harbor today.  

We are going to meet Alex at the lot at the usual time.  When we arrive there are 5 vehicles already there, what happened to our little spot? Was today not a Sauvies day?  What are all these people doing in our own private refuge?  

Cliffy dropping the beats

Water is way down when we arrive at the river.  Guys at the point, guys in the cove.  We set up where we set up last week which actually was pretty nice because the water was a little further out and our blind wouldn't be right up on the water.  We put out the full armada of blocks and due to the swiftly moving river they look sublime.  Cliffy builds his best blind of the year.  We settle in with 10 minutes to settle.  One set of ducks flies through, then another and another.  Morning fly is epic.  The bell rings and the fly zone is open and traffic is heavy.  Many people calling, many shots being taken.  Probably the best last day fly ever, it's just getting these bastards to commit.  The wind is whipping them right past us.  Cliffy decides to put out Leroy and now it's on, me on the whistle Cliffy on the roto.  Birds are now taking interest and wanting us.  A set come in from the left I stand and shoot as well as my comrades.  A single falls out of the sky, hen Mallard.  Waylon gets his first and only retrieve of the year.  He did a great job swimming out, recognizing and retrieving.

Not as cold as CFTK but due to the moisture it feels colder.  We are trying to put a full day in taking advantage of the last day, so we are walking and drinking hot Irish coffee to stay warm.  Birds are still flying doing their best to survive the last day of "The Purge."  Just as the movie dried up so did the birds not to mention that the wiki dried up too due to a miscalculation.  We call it.  Over.

Congratulations to Clider the 20016 Expert, he put his time in and deserves it.  And Bob DaFolder, Deucey Champion, putting up your best year in years, great job EH?  Cliffy your enthusiasm was outstanding this year thanks for getting me out there week after week.  Already looking forward to the Founders Tour of next year.

Time to Lose the Clown Paint

Cillin For the Donald Oregon Chapter

Cliffy and I get to the lot a little early because of the competition we have been encountering.  Well, we are greeted by three trucks.  Everyone is busy loading their packs and blowing up float tubes, Cliffy and I Scooby Doo right out of there in front of them, if it's one thing we know is "Be Prepared."  We make it to the field and we are talking aboot how cool we are because we just Scooby Doo'd everyone in the parking lot and we are going to have the choice spot with the water way up.

I give a spy back to see where the Mallakas are.  Wouldn't you know one set is right behind us, and gaining!  What the hell!  It's not like Cliffy and I are lolly gagging, we're walking a  good clip.  They pass us.  In all my years I have never been passed on the walk in, or the walk out.  Cliffy explains to me that it is because we are getting old.  No I say, No!  One Mallaka is only caring a gun, the second Mallaka has a small backpack and the third Mallaka has a bag of blocks with like 8 small bodies.  Meanwhile I have 16 FULL sized blocks, chair, bag of clothes, ammo bag and wiki.  We get to the water, we caught them, they are confused aboot the water, they don't know where to go.  As soon as they see us they get moving, moving in no direction. I know where I am going.  I B-Line to my spot and claim it ours.  These 3 Mallakas are not going to take our spot.  

It's raining pretty good but considerably warmer than last week, we're talking 34 degrees.  I set the blocks as Cliffy builds the blind, I know that sounds crazy but with the Blind of the Year already under my belt I decided to let Cliffy enjoy the puzzle.  Wind and rain.  A quiet morning fly.  The fourth Mallaka walks in front of the blind just caring his gun joining his buddies.  Cliffy and I scratch our heads, he must have won a bet that he can show up at cillin time with just his gun and hunt.  There are the 4 Mallakas to our right, 2 different Mallakas across the river from us and then there is the guy on the island with a dog.  Oh, how do I know he has a dog?  A few opportunities to pull the trigger were lost due to not looking in the right direction.  With the fooseball waiting for us on the television we decide to call it.  Cliffy stated that next week we are going to stay out there all day.  What ever it takes Cliffy, guess I'm packing a big boy bottle.  GBCH

CFTK 2017 Oregon Chapter

 After disappointing news this year that the Idaho chapter would be sitting this years CFTK out due to trials and tribulations and with Bob DaFolder, deucey champion, illin from being sick, Cliffy and I set a 5:30 pick up time.  In case y'all been living under a snowball, PDX was hit with 10 inches of snow a week ago, which in turn makes for icy everything because we don't plow or put down salt here.  The ride out still was a little sketch, with fresh memories of spinning the Tacoma on highway 26 many years ago, Cliffy and I crawl to the lot to meet Alex.  We are the only ones there. It is butt ass cold, 24 degrees, winds ripping down the gorge at 20-30 mph with high gusts in the 50's, probably the reason that we are the only ones there. Who else would drive such conditions?  We load up Alex with his own pack so that I can carry 18 blocks and with Clffys 8 that would give a great armada.  We head out and we break out of the comfort off the woods into open fields, where every breath you take freezes to your face.  I can't believe that we are looking forward to the comfort a spot out on the Columbia not facing the wind.  

We reach the mighty Columbia only to find ice.  We try hiking out to the point in order to find some open water breaking through 12 inch ice crush the whole way.  Struggling with every step, what looked like open water was only smooth frozen ice when we got to it.  Maybe the reason no one else is here? It seemed to be forever. We decide to head back, hunt from the corner throw some blocks on the ice and pass shoot the morning fly then head home.  It almost looks really promising.  We put some blocks on the ice by the bank, hunker down and wait.  3 sets of mallards fly through our spread before cillin time.  Hey not so bad everyone thinks, maybe we are not total idiots. 2 other sets of hunters head out to the point, idiots we think. One had a little red wagon with his 8 small blocks in it and was carrying it  because of all the ice.  Idiot. 

Baby it's cold out side.  The team is pretty spread out due to lack of cover.  Pre-morning turns into morning and the light is better.  I spy that just beyond the ice we are sitting in front of is open water, and due to my scouting last week with Bonz' its shallow enough to walk in.  I move the blocks into moving water and BAM! we are legit.  We are set, we are looking great!  The feeling of not being the smartest turns into feelings of Einsteintudeness.  We see lots of ducks and geese, did I mention that Alex actually has his goose license? Nothing is committing, the wind is ripping pretty good.  Cliffy comes over to chat and have a sip of wikki.  We are chatting for awhile and Alex comes over to join us for some chat and some wiki.  Did I forget to mention that the wiki Alex drinks is actually made by his wife? Maybe a sponsor for next season?  www.clearcreekdistillery.com

A ton of geese are flying and you know what fly in geese.  We are standing there and clouds of mallards are swarming us.  The sky was literally filled with black.  Honestly there were three clouds of ducks holding at least 100 each. I'm yelling "SHOOT SHOOT!"  Well this takes me back to the day that I witnessed a mass migration down at the Old New Spot.  When I was paralyzed by seeing so many ducks that I could not lift my gun.  I could not do it and Cliffy too was paralyzed, but Alex was not.  He literally just had to point his gun into the air and pull the trigger.  He did and it went thump on the ice.  We sat in awe, speechless for minutes.  The only disappointment besides not raising the Benelli, was that Alex didn't shoot his limit with one pull of the trigger.  We sat in hopes that all those bastards would be back.  A few warm up walks.  Wiki now dry.  We call it around 11.  Cliffy mentioned that it was his best CFTK ever, I would have to disagree 2015 was the best so far for me.  2015 we had three guys vying for Experts status, saw more birds committing and was beautiful, maybe not as beautiful as this year.  It was a great day though, sorry the Idaho chapter missed it, they too would have appreciated what we saw today.  Two more weeks left in the season, expecting very high water next week with all this melt off and 12 inches of rain expected.

2016...

2016 The slowest posting year ever.

Yellowstone at Christmas

Oregon Chapter VII

Remember the days when we always say "get a license and we'd be happy to take you hunting with us"? Well for a couple of years now Alex has been inquiring about the H7HT and their ways.  Well you see Alex is already an outdoor enthusiast.  He is an avid upland game hunter, waterfowl hunter and fisherman, which means he already has everything he needs.  We get our schedules straight and Cliffy and I take Alex out to the best hunting spot there is to put him on some ducks.  We meet him at the gate at 6 a.m. to begin our adventure.  Low and behold there are already two trucks there before us.  No problem we think, plenty of room out there for all of us to hunt.  It's a chilly 26 degrees with a stiffy in the fay walk out.  We make it to the point where we are greeted by another hunter who informs us that there are 3 more parties around the corner.  We head back and find a grand spot to build a blind for 3 people and a dog.  Alex and Cliffy throw the blocks out and I construct the blind of the year.  With a strong east wind the guys throw out a backwards "C" for the many ducks to land in.  Morning rolls by and I'm dropping lore on the new guy.  "Used to be like this, the water was never this high, Mitch, blah blah blah."  A score of birds flew by a couple times even wanting us, but like I said the lore was rolling and nobody was paying no tension to what we were there for.  We get smart and focus on what is before us.  Sure enough a green head bastard flies through our spread, turns back into the wind and lands in our spread with his gear down.  Alex says with his full choke that he could take him if somebody would boogly whoo him.  I did my best and he jumped, Alex put 3 inches of very cold steel into him, but not enough.  Alex jumps out of the blind like a champ and is in the water not wanting an NR.  He puts 4 more shots over his head as the bastard is getting away.  Soon Alex was at wader limit and the pursue was over.  Green head bastard one, Alex minus one.  The cold got to us and after a few warm up walks we decide to call it.  We pack up and head back.  Surprising enough Alex said that he'd like to join us again, couldn't be for the amount of ducks, must have been the great stories.  Oh yeah since Cliffy isn't going to tell you how he put his jacket on Waylon because he though he was cold, and then Waylon decided to retrieve a block wearing his jacket, soaking it, I will.  Good Dog.

Blind of the Year

Yep.

Here I am. Here I am looking angry. Here I am having a beverage. Here I am after not seeing a duck.  Here I am after not seeing any open water to hunt. Here I am.














Maybe next time.
GBCH