The Last Two Idaho Hunts In One Post. Why? Nobody Else Will.

Seeing as nobody else can break away from their busy schedule of watching TV or You Tube or X-box, I will.  See, I have a none too busy of a schedule that certainly does include letting you readers know what has been going on here at the H7HT.  Here goes.....

'DQM'  Shhhhhhhh.

Thanksgiving day is just the kind of day you want to spend with friends and family.  Sitting around the fire watching foosball after a fine meal of factory raised turkey and canned cranberry sauce.  Clider and I did just that, but not before going to the spot I like to call 'Double Question Mark'.  Once again we paddled out to 'DQM' in the kayaks and set up in the reeds about 300 yards from where we were the last time we went out just the day before.  Remember that that day Otis and Clider were at their near limit of cil'n fun, and I, Bob D. even shottened a duck or two.  That day was going to be different.  Just the two of us and a minimalist spread of maybe 15 blocks and my spinner.  The morning fly was way less than the day before and for a moment I thought that maybe I should have slept in.  Those thoughts didn't last long.

The action was incredible.  As Clider likes to say about 'DQM':  "When it's on, it's on.  When it's not, it's not."  Well, it was certainly ON.  Ducks were dropping out of the sky trying to land in our little spread like they were on fire.  From the left, right, front and especially from behind.  I had a hard time keeping up with all the action as I forgot not only my chair for the kayak, but also my chair for the blind.  Even kneeling in the reeds I was able to shoot a quick passer from the right that turned out to be only the second ever Woodie shotten by the H7HT.  He was beautiful and filled me with pride while 'The Expert' gave me a big thumbs up for dropping him so late in our season.  It was so crazy that I stopped shooting after two greenies, a henny and the little woodie.  I already had ducks in the fridge from the day before and the prospect of making 100 duck snacks for my friends left me satisfied at the morning thus far.  Clider on the other hand was not satisfied until he had shotten his limit.  If I remember correctly, 6 greenies and 1 henny.  The kayaks were full and the paddle back was happy with the exception of my bruised and hurting knees.  What a day.  'DQM' did not disappoint.

(side note. After making about 50 duck bites I gave a batch to my neighbor Chris the CIA operative. We discussed that neither of our SigOth's will eat duck due to the taste,cruelty,gamey,wild nature of them. We shared a laugh that earlier that day we all had no problem stuffing a factory raised bird with bread and celery and ate it down with abandon while the wild and humanely murdered duck was shunned.  He painted a picture of men in bulldozers herding the turkeys to their ultimate fate which I can picture in my head all day.  I now refer to my ducks as "Bulldozer free".) 

Fast forward to today.
The snow in Idaho has not been flying and rather than doing my new job of grooming snow for fast skiing on perfect corduroy I have instead been helping to fix snowcats.  A job better suited to strong young men rather than my weak-ass body.  I am, after all, in what Clider likes to refer to as my 'twilight years'.  So after a day of doing nothing other than recuperating on the couch watching foosball with my sweetie I knew I needed my other day off to be a hunting day.  After calling Clider he went scouting and decided that Anderson was the place to be.  He claimed bunches of geese and ducks sitting out on the lake and while there, it was snowing and windy and full of potential.  Neither of us checked the moon phase so when we met this morning to head out we hoped for the best.  The full moon was shining brightly and the forecast of cold and fog was nowhere to be found.

The kayak in was easy and delightful.  We set a great spread that included his new splasher decoy.  A decoy he spent top dollar on just days before.  Other than 'splashy' freezing up from time to time he looked great splashing out there with some goose blocks, my spinner and my Dakotas.  Only one problem plagued us today and that was the lack of ducks needing to move around after a night of full moon feeding.  The only shot I had all day was a perfectly set up greenie that my first shot missed and my second shot was not taken because I was looking right into the sun.  Clider on the other hand had no problem knocking down two geese.  Both times they floated right into the spread and I had to question, once again, why it is that I don't shoot those things.  Maybe it's time to learn to make jerky.  They are, after all, bulldozer free.  We pulled up and set out for home waiting for our next hunt.  Maybe someday my other H7HT teammates will tell you aboot their hunts but rest assured you will hear about mine as soon as they happen.
GBCH.

Greenies For Everybody!

Today's photo is blurry on purpose.  It's the spot Clider always shoots ducks and he does not want the throngs of blog readers to know where we are.  Did I say Clider always shoots ducks here?  Well, Otis does too, and today I was fortunate enough to be invited along with not one, but two great slayers.  The kayak ride in was interesting and somewhat challenging in the heavy duty waders I was told to wear.  After overheating paddling and dragging my full kayak it turned out none of my gear was needed.  A minimalist spread was set and it was on right from the opening bell.

Otis cil'd first, then Clider, then even I one shotted a nice greenie. Ducks were flying everywhere and even though I felt not well concealed the ducks just wanted in. Oh, did I mention they were all mallards?  They were.  The only shot taken on a non-mallard was a teal that Otis knocked dead and a goose that he blasted as well.  Both Otis and Clider were off on a walk when another teal landed just next to me and swam off.  Turns out it was the teal that Otis shotten and it decided that hanging out at his feet for 10 minutes was long enough. It swam off never to be seen again.

I missed on no less than 3 great greenie shots and right as we were discussing pulling up for the day I finally got my 2nd of the day.  A great day for me but better for both Otis and Clider.  Otis left with a goose and 6 ducks that may have been all greenies. Clider added to his count by taking 5 greenies and a hen.  Stupid 'Expert'.  How will I ever catch up if I continue to shoot with my gun not connected to my shoulder but braced on my elbow?  I won't.  The only good news is tomorrow we may be right back at the same area.  If I had to name it, I'd call it "double secret probation".
GBCH

Founders Tour 2017. Day 2.

How could it get any worse, right?
I set the bar so low on day 1 of the Founders Tour that we certainly could not get any lower.  I took Fred G on his first kayak ride around in circles until we got mere feet away from where we started, showed him no ducks and even managed to lower expectations to the point where even taking a shot at a duck would seem lively.  A great start to the trip.  Then we got started on Day 2.

After loading up all our gear into my trailer for the weekend retreat and solving all the worlds problems in one night of spirited swilling, we were off at a nice early 4am.  We would have had time to get to Harrison and drop off the trailer at our rental home for the weekend and still have plenty of time to meet Clider at The Blind and shoot many ducks. Heck, I even had a big surprise up my sleeve.  All things seemed possible.  Traveling down I-90 at a reasonable 65mph the left wheel of my trailer fell off.  We were lucky that it got hung up inside the wheel well of the trailer or else it may have passed us as we were spitting sparks and fishtailing off the road.  We immediately stopped on the side of the highway, pressed against a guardrail and a good solid 6 inches of shoulder separating us from the early morning traffic that could not see us until they got to the corner we were on. Crap Monkey!

I run brand new tires on the Jeep, and good ones of an identical rim/tire on the trailer so I never plan on dealing with a flat that can't be driven on or Les Schwab'd easily.  I don't carry a jack or lug-wrench.  That's a mistake.  With the tire completely off the trailer we had no choice but to not easily disconnect the trailer (it's on one wheel and a hub after all) and head off to get a jack.  Keep in mind it's 4:30am and the trailer is black.   Traffic, although light, is terrifying at 75mph on the I-90.  Fred G volunteered to stay behind with our flashing headlamps so nobody would take the corner and run into our crap that was just inches from being in the travel lane.  I turned around in Rose Lake and was lucky to have a nice lady working the Conoco gas station that lent us what we needed. "You want some kind of deposit?"  "No, just be safe young man."  Back at the trailer Fred was calmly telling me when cars would approach as I tried to reconnect the tire to a hub with 2 bent lugs.  Nearing the end of cobbling the thing together I noticed an Idaho State Trooper turning around to help us.  He pulled in behind and asked how things were going.

Sidebar: At 4:45am 2 guys wearing all camo with a broken trailer, loaded with guns and beer, inches from the travel lane, don't raise any kind of flag here in North Idaho. No further inquiry was needed from this nice Trooper and he went back to his prowler to wait out our dilemma. We were very happy he did not ask any further questions or ask for ID, license, insurance or come too close to us. Remember, the night before, only hours actually, we had solved all the worlds problems. Potential 'Big Problem' averted.

With the wheel barely back on we made it to the Rose lake exit and regrouped.  The Trooper pulled in minutes later along with yet another and merely waved as we worked on getting the wheel tight.  The stress was high my friends.  As we took off for Harrison it didn't take long to realize that our hamfisted assembly wasn't working and I needed to uncouple yet again and go back to my house to get the right socket and wrench combo to get the wheel and spacer back on tight.  I woke my Sweetie to tell her it was just me banging around at 6am and not a crazed killer in our garage. I told her about our trials and tribulations and she responded with a sleepy "oh" then back to sleep. Finally back to Rose Lake and back on the road. I was likely going somewhere between 7 and 9 mph the rest of the way to Harrison as my trust in my trailer construction skills was devastated.  Fred G was silent.

Finally making it to our home away from home we unloaded the 'trailer of problems' and worked our way out to The Blind. Keep in mind it's now aboot 10am and the morning couldn't get much worse.  Lowered bar and all.  On the walk out we ran into Clider and his Lady digging a deep hole.  Crap monkey.  Fred G and I did the best we could with being helpful and sat quietly in The Blind as Clider took care of the sad work at hand. After they left we halfheartedly threw out some blocks and tried to hunt for a couple more hours. It was unsuccessful at best.  Before pulling up and heading back to our home away from home, which paled in comparison to last years, I did have at least one opportunity to shoot at a duck.  I winged it and even after some 3 1/2" steel thrown its way it swam off. My 2nd NR of the season.  I now sat at a 0 duck count and Fred had 0 to show for two days of me hosting him.  At this point I considered the bar to be lower than ever.  Good job Bob D.  So far the worst Founders Tour ever.

However, I still had an ace up my sleeve.

GBCH
R.I.P. PtBH.

Solo Day at The Point.

Or: "Should Have Brought the Kayak"

Regular readers will know that I am, in addition to being a once and future 'Expert', a ski guy.  Well, this year I signed up to learn the fine art of driving a snowcat and grooming ski runs for a living.  The schedule is somewhat unpredictable at this time of the year and it so-happened that I had today off.  So I took the duck by the horns and went hunting.  I asked Clider if he could go so that I could have known for a fact that I would be exactly where the greenies wanted to be but he was busy with his job as just another ski guy.  I made the call to go to The Point not only because I had not done any scouting, but also because that's where I go just about all the time.  The only question I had last night was weather to bring the kayak or not.  After a day of replacing growser bars (snowcat treads) in the cold of the cat shop and then spending hours on end taking pictures in the snow so Clider could take credit for my mad photo skills, I was chilled to the bone when I got home.  The last thing I wanted to do was load up the kayak on top of the Jeep in the dark while it was a balmy 65 degrees in my house. A steamy shower was waiting so I just went with my carry bag.

Fast forward to this morning.  Walk out to warm up. Dakotas looking great in the channel. Time to properly settle. Morning fly working perfect. Everything going great. 
No ducks.
Flying.
Landing.
Working my decoys.
Nothing.

My new ride

This is where I should have brought the kayak.  In the spot Clider always wants to hunt to my left there were 50+ mallards quacking away.  In the bay to my right another 100+ mallards are quacking away.  All the ducks flying are landing in one of those two spots completely ignoring my spread. If I had a kayak I could at least go scare them up or even move my rig to go where they are. But I'm stuck on the sidelines watching.  Many geese flew right over me but I'm not looking to shoot them, I want Greenie.  So finally I took a walk out to my left and ended up in boot sucking mud up to my knees.  I did manage to put up the 50+ on the left, then taking a walk back on the path, scare up the 100+ on the right, who went and landed in Uncle Delbert's cove far away.  I figured I would just wait them out and they would come back and see me but anything that did come back went right back to where they started.  I called it a day and came home to dust off the kayak and wait for next time.  Next time is going to be great!
GBCH

First Walk OR Chapter Day One

The longest journey starts with the first step, how many times have you heard that before? No scouting necessary where I go, just plain commitment.  Last night I wasn't feeling so okay, a case of the dyspepsia I think.  Went to bed super early with the rain and wind blowing down the pipe, it sounded ducky.  I woke at 5 am packed and ready to go, rain subsided wind still blowing.  I think to myself, self, what what? How pleasant it will be to drive 20 minutes to the best hunting spot, that I know.  Make it to the highway, I'm going through the mental checklist and realize that my gun is still leaning against the wall in my house.  Seems to be a common thing with me these days.  

Make it to the lot and there are two trucks already dark.  I'm not worried there is going to be plenty of space out there plus with the deluge of water recently the water will be up, giving me the advantage.  Slip my pack on, which seemed really heavy, and scoobied dood out to the point.  On my way out two guys were on fat tire bikes coming right at me with the brightest headlamps ever, we exchange "mornings" and keep going.  I'm assuming at this point that they are shuttling gear back and forth and now my pack feels heavier.  I make it to the exit for the point and many trees have fallen over the path out and make it very difficult to make it to the water.  I said water I meant to say sand bars.  There was no water.  There were no other guys setting up.  Just me.  I make it to the point and put my blocks into the channel they look sublime in the current.  Find the best cover possible and wait.  There is no "settle" time due to the fact that I left my gun home and had to go back.  

Thoughts of wonder go through my head because I have a lot of time due to the lack of birds flying.  "Were those guys hunters?  or were they vagrants? homeless?  nice bikes for homeless people.  Are they going to smash my windows?"  I can't believe that I'm thinking about city stuff way out here while I'm hunting.  

I give it until 10 and call it.  Saw some high flyers not wanting me, probably because I looked like a polished turd in a punchbowl.  Shlep my way back to my secure car and head home.


Water Level at 7am 4ft

I Only Go For the Exercise!

I decided to go scouting on Saturday in order to knock out another smooth greenie limit on Sunday.  Mo and I hit the road and glassed everything up to the Swan Lake viewpoint.  We even went for a walk near Medimont in order to enjoy the weather and get a look into some hard to see areas. There were quite a few birds in the marshy end of Medicine lake, but everything else was devoid of life.  It seemed like everyone was hunkered down in the hard to scout areas out of sight. No matter, I had a spot, and I know it rarely gets hunted.

I woke up, rolled out of bed, and started getting dressed.  It hit me then, half dressed, standing in the nearly dark living room. "Go back to bed, that spot is a mucky mess and there is no cover.  Plus, it seems like nothing wants to work it if you blow the morning fly", thanks brain.  I stood there motionless at 4:30 for five solid minutes.  I was already up, the pan was warming up for bacon, and the kayak was loaded.  I should go, this spot was loaded with mallards and gooseys and I'm going to be busy this week so I should get out while I can. My can-do attitude won, and I was out the door a few minutes later.

I arrived at my spot, launched the kayak and started paddling.  Soon I ran out of water, and discovered that I could drag the boat through the mud as long as some of my body weight was supported by the boat. Every step was up to my knee in thick smelly mud.  After 200 feet of sweating and slowly dragging I set out my twelve blocks and covered my boat up with nasty grass from the muskrat hut I was wedged against.  Ten minutes before shooting time the jerks out at Hidden Lake and Killarney decided they couldn't wait any more and started what would be almost continuous shooting for the next two hours.

Once the sun came up it became obvious that I was a picture perfect representation of that classic "turd in a punch bowl"look.  Birds wanted nothing to do with me, and as the sun came up it would only get worse.  I packed up my gear and dragged my way back out into the lake.  I moved my setup down to a slightly less terrible location and hung out there for a little while, but the birds knew what was up so I packed it in for the day.

On the way home I swung out to Bull Run and drove all the way back to the end of the road. Here I was greeted with the sight of several acres of wetland completely covered with mallards. I thought about leaving them, but I know the weather is going to change very quickly. So, once again I did the boat drag, this time at least it was on dry land. I scared up the most birds I've ever seen in one place and set out a six block spread.  Everything moved out to the center of the water and left me alone.  Board, tired, and soaked in sweat, I did the long haul back in and finally went home.

Today was a reminder that some places don't get hunted because they are terrible and almost impossible to hunt.  I almost scouted that Bull Run area the day before, and it turns out my theory about everything being in hidden areas is correct.  I could have taken ten more minutes and done the homework the day before, and I think it would have resulted in today  being one of craziest days ever.  Today did reinforce the importance of proper concealment, scouting, and listening to my own brain.  Birds are educated, cautious, and sticking to out of the way areas, at the same time the water is dropping and the grass is starting to lay down.  The winter snow blast is coming, we'll see what happens next.

Founders Tour 2017 Day One

Founders Tour 2017 started off like every other tour started.  Provisions of ammo, new gear, vittles, and, life blood.  We arrive at Bob's cabin and get our gear ready for the first epic day of the tour.    The weather is supposed to be extremely ducky, cold weather pushing snow from the north.  I'm informed that our first day out we are going to go out on kayaks to a real tasty spot on Kilarney Lake.  I'm a little skeptical, never having been on a kayak in the pitch dark of the morning.  Without daylight savings time in effect yet we wake up at a reasonable hour of 4:45 am.  Now Kilarney is not as far as Anderson Lake, maybe half the distance and since we are completely packed, we're in the water by 5:30.  Not having used a boat like that I jump in and start paddling while Bob is parking the truck.  Thinking I know where we are headed I point myself in the direction and I'm off.  5 minutes later Bob is calling for me to follow him apparently I'm headed in the wrong direction.  Upon catching up to him my headlamp goes dead, now it's up to me to follow him in the pitch dark.  After 30 minutes of paddling in the dark Bob seems turned around, reasonably so it's very hard to see anything out there, a smart person would have found a point in the sky or horizon and head for that.  Bob decides this is where we're going to hunt until the sun comes up some.

6:00 am now.  An hour and 4 minutes for the all powerful settle* time before the opening bell.  As we sit there we notice that trucks are dumping off air boats at "a" boat ramp.  Seeing that we paddled left from "our" boat ramp that there must be another boat ramp on the lake, which we know there is not.  Turned around we are.  When the sun breaks the morning sky we realize that we are directly across from the boat ramp that we pushed off from this morning, approximately 100 yards away.  Some how we paddled around for 30 minutes to be 100 yards from where we started.

Bob's next decision,  pick and head to where he wanted to be in the first place.  Pick up, reset, and, sit.  By actually moving it set the bar that much lower.  Nothing seen nothing shotten.  But what a day!

*Definition of settle.  The time Bob DaFolder likes to have before the opening bell to let things settle.  A point of contention with all members of the H7HT.

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