NEW ORLEANS — For waterfowlers, the news is official: Those record-breaking rains that created the flooding Mississippi River have left the northern breeding grounds in such great shape we can expect a bumper duck production this summer.
Then why was the president of Ducks Unlimited in such a glum mood recently?
Because the political conditions in Washington for the future of duck hunting are at their worst level in decades. Maybe ever.
The controlling Republican caucus in the House has renewed its attacks on the two most important waterfowl conservation programs. It plans deep if not total cuts to the North American Wetlands Conservation Act, and big hits to the conservation titles in the Farm Bill, including the critical Conservation Reserve Program.
Bottom line: They're hitting ducks in the uplands where they nest, and the wetlands where they spend the rest of their lives.
"I'm kind of stunned this morning," said Dale Hall, CEO of DU, the sportsmen's group that is the largest and most effective wetlands conservation organization in the world. "Just a few days ago it looked like we were making progress, convincing more than 100 House members that these programs were good for the economy, not just ducks.
"Then our folks in Washington called to say the mood had changed, and they were now talking about zero-out NAWCA in addition to deep cuts in CRP.
"It looks like we're right back where we were in the spring."
Last spring is when the newly installed GOP majority in the House decided the nation needed to drastically reduce the deficit. At first it seemed like the axe was being swung blindly, taking a slice out of everything. But the bill that passed had a distinct ideological bent: Anything to do with protecting fish, wildlife and the human environment was critically wounded if not killed — while subsidies to powerful business interests such as energy survived.
NAWCA saw all of its $47.6 million budget eliminated. Waterfowl managers say it is critical to the survival of waterfowl hunting because it is the major vehicle for protecting the nation's dwindling base of wetlands. Over the last 30 years it has protected 25 million acres of waterfowl habitat leveraging $800 million in government funds into $2 billion in matches from private partners.
The House bill was blocked by the Senate, and after long negotiations with the administration, the compromise that passed included $37.5 million for NAWCA.
Wildlife and hunting advocates felt they were making some headway with the House GOP by presenting an economic rather than environmental argument: The $5 billion a year the nation spends on various conservation programs puts $14 billion back to the treasury in taxes from people who make their livings in the industries supported by those programs.
"We kept telling them the cuts they want to make in these programs will just make the deficit worse," Hall said. "I really thought we were making some progress, because of the support we were getting on that letter."
That confidence was short-lived.
As the week drew to an end, the conservation lobby learned the budget-cutters were going back to their hard-line tactics of the spring. And as they turn their attention to the Farm Bill — one of Congress' most pork-laden vehicles — the conservation titles such as the CRP are getting most of the attention. That's because CRP, which pays farmers not to plant, doesn't have the support of the commodities markets, which support subsidies for cash crops.
"It's a fight we're going to have trouble winning," Hall admitted. "The commodities lobby is very powerful."
"The changing picture in the House is very troubling."
Louisiana's sportsmen should be especially troubled. Our GOP members have been voting in lockstep with these cuts. Many of them are members of the so-called Congressional Sportsmen's Caucus. If they keep supporting these kinds of moves, they can change that name to the sportsmen's carcass.
"With over 100 members of Congress in that sportsmen's caucus, it makes you wonder how something like this can happen," Hall said.
"What they're trying to do makes no sense — not for wildlife, and not for the deficit. We're going to have as big a fight on our hands now as we did in the spring."
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Information from: The Times-Picayune, http://www.nola.com
Today is a dismal, overcast, marine layer, chilly day. Nothing better than jumping on the Duc and head East my friend. Have not been to the Clack in about two years. The "Clack" or Clackamas River is a beautiful windy river with and average highway running along side of it. The Clackamas River arises on the western slopes of the Cascade range near Olallie Butte, between Mount Hood and Mount Jefferson in the Mount Hood National Forest. Flowing generally northwest and then west for about 83 miles, it joins the Willamette River at Gladstone. The river falls nearly 4,900 feet between its source and it's mouth. The Ride started off pretty uneventful then turned to near death and kidney crushing debauchery. As I'm riding usually I don't take a lot of pictures, I'm trying to change that, stopping and starting at high speeds sucks. I saw some beauty and needed a picture, so I stopped. I wanted to take a picture of the river from a bridge, picturesque right? Well there were 5 kayaks in the water shooting the rapids as you could see, but note the one in back, the red one, upside down, upside down for what seemed to be 30 seconds or more. His buddies didn't realize their buddy was drowning, so I called out "Hey I think your buddy is in trouble!" After a few more goes he is able to bail out. When he got to the edge he was not elated "woohoo did you guys see that?" He was you could tell scared shitless. Remember the story of the time a boy named Tommy saved my life? I think it was the same for him. The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful except for the 7 mile dirt road someone sent me down.
fore I left, I downloaded the trail onto the GPS and just followed it all the way to the lake. Though my Jedi insights would have taken me there, I'm trying to catch up with the new world of technology. When I got to the lake and made my camp, I took a closer look at the north ridge. I decided, even with two ice tools, the steepness and exposure of a westerly traverse around a rockband at 9600 ft. was a bit much for me to solo. So, I drank whiskey to ease my vajj. After a long night with a million mosquitoes and the sounds of ice breaking off into 
the lake, I overslept my alarm. When I woke, I scrambled a pack together and started off for Middle Sister at 8:30. The hiking was superior. at 8,200 ft., I hit a snag. Go left or right around a rock outcrop? I chose the high road (right) and stumbled into an overhanging rock that went about 40 ft. up. No way! I thought about the 40 minutes I would have to backtrack and then the other time it would take me to get around the other side. But, before I made that decision, I looked right again. And there before me was a mock looking chimney with glacier ice on one side and solid rock on the other. I wh
ipped out a single crampon for my right foot, grabbed my axe and before I knew it Iwas shimmying my way up. That was the best 40 feet of climbing ever. Super fun! As I got off the chimney, I made mywayup the ridge and jumped into a gully to get off the scree. I followed the southeast ridgeline until it met up with another southern ridge to form 'the summit ridge'. Once on the summit ridge, I knew I only had 500 more feet of climbing to go. However, once I got there, due to my late start, the snow was mush. Once again I felt my vajj starting to ache when I looked down on both sides. I didn't go for it. The loneliness was setting in. It was 11:30 am and I decided to glissade back to camp. I screamed down in 25 min. Seriously, I went fast! I took my shell pants off and was deciding on whether to bail or have another crack in the morning. 5 seconds later, I was engulfed in mosquitoes again, so I packed up and hit the trail well aware of the icy cold beer sitting in the cooler in the back of my truck. Mmmmmmm, beeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrr. Delicious it was!
