What a Difference a Day Doesn't Make.

It's been raining here in North Idaho.  lots of rain.  Huge quantities of rain.  The downside is that barely any of that precipitation fell as snow up on the mountain.  Rain, great for duck hunting but bad for working.  With my three whole days off this week I spent yesterday morning at The Point. Clider had recently slayed all the greenies in the area of The Point but I went anyway in hopes that one or two had remained unscathed.

The rain was light and winds were low as I set out my blocks into the channel.  T.J. was with me which meant I could throw them as far in as I wanted because the water there was so low.  I also brought my jerk rig and hucked it across to the water on the other side. Spinner spinning, blocks working, cover was great and I still had 15 minutes to simultaneously have a few moments to reflect on the solitude of the morning and wait for the inevitable attack of the cougar that was surely stalking me.  Things were good.  The only slight problem was the sheer and utter lack of ducks flying anywhere.  Clider had in fact, killed them all.

Stupid environment!

Just then a greenie and his hen landed off to my left on the other water.  Far from my set but surely close enough to shoot if I was quick and true.  I didn't even get through the first Boogelly before they peeled up and I was able to get 2 clean shots off that missed them squarely.  That's it for ducks that day.  One whole diver came over to say hello and I contemplated shooting him just to ease the boredom.

invisiblenessitude

The boredom

had an upside though.  I had plenty of time to get a good look at The Tip, and with the following day in mind, think of the perfect placement for a new blind.  I called E.F Hutton and made sure my portfolio could handle the $785,362.07 I withdrew to build the perfect hide on The Tip.  The main issue was crossing the channel repeatedly through the knee deep boot sucking mud topped with 3 feet of water.  I took all the extra stakes from last years 2nd blind, rebar pulled from the mud and even found where some mallacka had cast off the 6 stakes that made up The Tip blind we built last year.  Other conscientious hunters had left a bunch of cover material along with the 100 hulls Clider picked up and I used that along with some fresh cut brush to create the most invisible Tip cill'n spot ever.  Soaked and tired I made it back to The Point just in time to clean up the 50 hulls other conscientious hunters had left there and carry everything back.  (As a side note, I considered leaving all my gear hidden there since I would be back tomorrow but, as you all remember from that one single post 10 to 12 years ago, it's a bad idea.)  I made it home with an aching shoulder and increasing wind gusts outside. I even got a call from O.G. H7HT member Jenny X.  He told me all about the fact that he hasn't shot a duck in years but now has a shooting range in the basement of his home.  Trump 2016!  One minute after he hung up the increasing gale force winds knocked out the power at my house.

There's no other way to put it, it was absolutely pouring rain and windy as shit when I woke up.  The good news is that one of my Sweeties 'magic pills' had cured my aching shoulder and I felt great as I stopped to see Jerry at the gas station. The lone customer at the store was also a duck hunter and we shared a look as he walked in the door like we both were the most hardcore people on earth.  Rain X working overtime, Black Betty got me to Anderson with time to spare just in case the entire blind I built yesterday had been blown to the other side of the lake.  My faultless construction technique and the many dollars I had spent were only out-shined by the fact that the wind was from the south, perfectly at my back.  My blocks danced in the wind and I knew that every greenie in town wanted to be in the shelter provided by the channel.  Not even the relentless cougar would be foolish enough to brave the gusty conditions I was sitting in.  I waited.

The one duck that flew in from behind me was navigating like it was having a seizure as it tried to land in my spread but by the time I saw it the wind had blown it to Canada. Hours later it suddenly stopped raining and the wind died down, sunshine behind me.  I thought for sure ducks would be moving and landing soon but nothing happened.  Either the storm front pushed them away or Clider had, in fact, slayed them all.  I called it.  For Heston's sake, start snowing!

GBCH