Hi My Name Is Tank...

I want to make babies.  

2020 The Biggest Question Mark Ever.

 What will this season hold?

A question all duck hunters ask about this time of year.  Maybe there will be changes in the weather that bring ducks in quantities we have never seen before or, maybe, the weather will scorn us like the fat kid at the buffet when the pizza runs out.  Tough to say.

Here is my prediction with a little insight into this years chances.

Option #1:  The current NOAA forecast calls for a big push of cold and weather coming our way.  Just look at that Jet Stream dousing us with cold, rain, snow and ducks.  It's a beautiful thing.  Even if the ducks don't follow we can be skiing from the blind straight to the truck after hunting.  Good news.

Option B.  It rains.  Maybe it rains all the time.  No worries here as we already know how to hunt in the rain, we just bring along a hunting umbrella designed and patented by Fred G back in the 2000's.  A little rain never hurt the duck hunting totals. In fact, we have always returned from rainy days with full strap of fat mallards every time the rain pours down*.

Option #4.  Sunshine Daydream.  Sunshine brings out ducks from their rest.  They want to feed and converse and play and socialize and get shot.  Many good days have happened when the sun is shining.  It's actually a well known fact that Greenies like to bask in the sun.  A sunny day is perfect for team members to relax in chairs and enjoy the day while waiting for the flocks of ducks to be fooled by our perfectly concealed blinds.  In fact, they never even see us waiting. Boom Chackla Lacka.  Dead ducks galore.

So, If I'm telling the truth here, it seems that no matter the conditions, and no matter the weather, and no matter the fly patterns, and no matter the H7HT members, ducks will be on the run this year.  I can only hope that my freezer can hold more than 127,656,907 ducks without getting too full.  Yep.  It's going to be a great year.

GBCH

*(we never shot a full strap of anything on rainy days)

We Set a New Record!

For the least amount of posts for a hunting season.

With that being said, I have an update for some hunting Clider and I did this week.  I'm also including some pictures and info about what we have come to call 'Founders Tour Light' from 2019.

Founders Tour Light:
Idaho has been in a relative drought for the early part of this season.  Not only has the ski season gotten off to a very slow start due to the lack of moisture falling from the sky, it has left us with some very interesting conditions for duck hunting this season.  After my paddle day at Killarney that yielded little in the way of slaying opportunities, but a first Cil of a drake widgeon, I was very excited to welcome to Idaho the formerly employable Fred G.  We took a day to re-acquaint ourselves with the spot we have come to call The Tip.  It sucked.  Little water.  Nothing was flying and nothing was shotten.

before

Being deterred by that day was not possible because the next day we were to hunt with current 'Expert' and all around scouting master Clider.  He did not scout.  We did not have a real plan.  We went to The Other Side and struck out. No water.  We conferred some and came up with a plan to find water at The Theatre.  Once again, we struck out.  By now the sun was up and none of us were thinking good thoughts but yet another plan was hatched to go to the place that has become known as Hangover Bay.  Our luck was aboot to change.  All that was left of the morning we watched hundreds of birds fly near, close, potentially in range and generally away from us.  Some shots were taken and the birds that did fall from our shots were painful retrieves due to the receded water and ensuing boot sucking mud and ice we had to plow through to get them. Clider took a disappointing walk, Fred G gave up on shooting and I was ready to call it due to my inability to shoot anything.  then it all changed.

Ducks started to come in.  Not just ducks but greenies.  Lots of them.  Seems we had waited long enough for the afternoon weather to change and those ducks that ignored us before wanted our little hole in the ice to be their forever home.  We obliged.  By the end of the afternoon many ducks had fallen and we realized that the day had gone from bust to boom.  I think we all were close to out of ammo and much closer to thinking that this was a good day rather than a terrible one.  June was happy too.  For me at least, it would be the best day of 2019.


Flash forward to yesterday.

after

I had work obligations that took me PDX and had a nice working vacation and visit with Fred and the Lovely Rachel, Clider had gone to Boise and hunted with Otis and Fred had done whatever unemployed people do. Weeks had gone by without me going out.  Clider and I finally made a plan to hunt.  Not knowing full well where the water might be and where the ducks were now, our plan was to hunt somewhere by Hangover Bay.  He picked me up on a snowy New's Years Eve morning with June Bug and great expectations that we would just find the right spot near to the newly found Greatest Comfort Station on the entirety of the Trail Of The Coeur d'Alenes. (It even smells nice in there!).

We set up as best we could in slushy water and little cover.  I forgot a chair and my rippler ducks were weak but Cliders new splashing duck made up for that.  We waited out the nonexistent morning fly until a chance presented itself.  A lone duck flew by and apparently Clider was giving me the chance to shoot, I wanted a perfect feet down folding moment and with us both being idiots the greenie landed in the slush outside the spread.  Lesson learned.  As the snow turned to a solid rain we adjusted our spread and had a moment of hope as ducks suddenly gave us more than a passing look.

The moment passed and nothing fell.  The rain continued to fall and things started to remind me of a typical day at The Old Old spot.  Gloves getting saturated,  rain dripping off  my hood, no ducks flying, hungry and cold.  Well of course it was time for Clider and June to take a walk and while I sat in his chair running the jerk rig trying to keep our hole clear of ice, I could not help but thinking of a nice fire and nap back at the cabin.  Not long after Clider returned telling me of the greenie he jump shot and the sickly goose he dispatched from its suffering. It was time to call it.

We did some scouting on the way home but the fact remains that I will likely not be making anymore trips to the blind this season.  Another trade show and the need to buy a comfortable sofa sometime before I burn the old one in the driveway out of sheer anger will mostly end my year. Clider may go again but I did see his vehicle in the ski area parking lot this morning as I made my way up to ski saturated snow on our ski hill.  Maybe Fred and Cliffy will step up and finish the season right.  I understand that this is when things start to get great in the PDX area.  Good luck boys!
GBCH.

Photo Exposé

It's been a busy fall, and despite assuring myself that I'd just go hunt a bunch, life has been keeping me busy with other things for the most part. Things are good, but the hunting could have been more betterer.  I've been out scouting mid day with June a few times, and even tossed a couple decoys out here and there. We went on a really long walk around noon one day and spent a few hours exploring new to me areas around Black Lake. But, but both the scouting and the "hunting" was mostly unproductive. I do have a better knowledge of the land, but not of where the birds are. June got exercise and quite a bit of practice with dummies and even a couple real birds. She is shaping up into a retrieving machine despite the lack of real bird opportunity.

Bob and I did get out and hut together at Anderson one morning, but we shotten no birds. Except the one fat greenie dropped in the thickest reeds in the whole world. I stomped around in there for a good chunk of the day with June, but wasn't able to find him. First bird lost in a long time, and it feels bad. Bob might have got a duck, but it was probably a hen widgeon. I guess he would have posted about it if it happened.

What follows are mostly a few snippets of bird watching with a shotgun. 

Fur missile getting dummies 

Drove out and watched the evening fly over a few blocks on Medicine Lake.

No action but a nice view. 

Jumped a couple Buffleheads on Black. June got some practice and I got some delicious pan seared breasts. Mo got a house that smelled like fish for 10 hours. 

Post walk. 

Scouting turned into a quick evening hunt with zero birds seen. 

June in between dummy retrieves.

 She's guarding the pile of shotgun trash left behind by actual human trash. 

Is this thing on? Dog in boat. 

Can you use this in town? 

Can you hit your car on the first shot?

Quail are surprising, pheasant are elusive, and Washington made me pay for three days to go hunt for a couple hours. Thanks Washington. 

Looked promising, got out there, saw birds all day at 80 yards. So many greenies, so zero opportunities. 

Bob D. Day Three at Killarney.

So obviously you can see my results for the day.  I'd have to call it a success because this is the first and possibly only time I will have shotten a DRAKE widgeon.  He sure is handsome. 

Clider was supposed to go with me today. We had planned a day of hunting to offset our busy schedules and, with the best of intentions set a mid week Wednesday as our time to go escape from the world around us.  Clider has been out a few more times than I have and his scouting reports are always helpful but when he called and told me he had to cancel due to work obligations, (something Fred G. knows all to well) I decided on a closer trip.  Killarney is not far and I hadn't been there this year.  I figured the kayak and I could get to the other side of the lake in no time and be ready to hunt with little trouble.

I was of course wrong.  After I put the boat in the water I picked a spot on the horizon that I knew was the other side of the lake where we had had success before.  I started paddling and with my headlamp off could clearly see where I was going.  Before long I got to the jetty that denotes the close side of the river channel and to my surprise it was massive.  The water level was lower than I have ever sen it before.  I had to paddle almost all the way back to the boat ramp to get around the jetty and out into the lake.  Great.  After a good 15 minutes of extra upper body workout I was in the clear and out to my spot.  I set a nice spread and built a perfect and comfortable blind.  The ducks were sure to come in shortly.

Nothing.  Nothing at all for at least the first hour of shooting time.  Nothing quacking, nothing flying, nothing at all.  Then the Russians showed up.  They set out from the boat ramp by paddling their boat until the water got deep, loudly speaking their Commie language and laughing, until the motor was started.  After that they fished from spot to spot until they crossed in front of my blocks 500 or so yards out.  Then the sun finally broke the surface of the water and ducks came in. The first set surprised me but the second did not.  The widgeon came with a group of 5 and I winged him with my second shot.  I waited, not moving and spooking him to swim away, he finally came back to me and just as I was ready to put him down the mallards came in.  Dropped the Greenie with one shot, finished the Widgeon with the second and missed another on the third. 

Then nothing at all.  for 2 hours.  I pulled up and as I ate my sammy on the tailgate the Communist fisherman came back to port.  Turns out they were rather nice, we chatted aboot fishing and hunting and water levels and such.  Then I left.  day 3.

Ahhh Says the Only Man That Can Cil a Duck on His Birthday

Cliffy and I decided to get our acts together and go hunting, go figure two weeks after opening day.  Weather has been cold here but no precipitation and none in sight.  

We leave at an early 5 am to procure our spot at the sanctuary. With a 6:24 starting time we thing that will give us plenty of time to hike out, find a spot, build a blind and have time for the ever important settle.  We arrive at the lot only to find a homeless person sleeping in their car, no other hunters are there.  "Strange" I thought.  We hike down to the water  and when we arrive we find no water.  Maybe the reason there are no other hunters?  Or maybe it's bring your childrens hunting day?  

We tack on some extra hiking time and finally find a spot that has water close enough to land where we can build a blind without having a 50 yard shot.  Throw blocks out, build a blind and 2 minutes to settle.  Some encouraging birds fly through our spread just as the bell went off, and then a few more.  Then the sun rose and blistered our still spread and shone a light on us.  Nothing more.  Dog walkers walked through our area not noticing us though.

On the walk out we reminisced about the days of old, prickers, water and being youthful.  Cliffy the only man that Cil on his birthday.

GBCH

It's Good To Be Back?

 So.
After wondering if I would be done with the blog forever it seems that Clider has spurred me into action.  He actually posted something about his hunting exploits and I have to admit I felt a little twinge of jealousy.  See, I like writing about all the good and bad things that happen out there in the blind.  All the moments when fat banded Greenies come floating down into our perfect decoy spread, locked up, waiting to meet all 3 inches of steel coming from the Benelli I hold in my cold frozen hands.  Other times I think about sitting at my computer wasting my time trying to entertain the thousands of readers that we don't have.

Well, I chose the Blog.  I chose to not waste my time, because for me at least, this is my way to remember and catalogue all the ways I enjoy myself out in the blind.  Out in nature the way Heston intended.  Freezing cold and trying to remember what time I have to get home in time for Judge Judy.  And sometimes it actually works out the way we hope.  Benellis blazing and ducks folding. So, without further adieu, welcome back old friends.  Here goes.

These photos show how the second half of my day went.  The fist half was spent kicking out some yard work and picking up my Sweeties car from its month long fixes at the mechanic.  Now, the Escalanch is free to spend its time with the kayak on top, waiting to burn lots of gas going out to hunt rather than being a poor choice for a daily driver.

I took my car to Cabellas wonderland of 'stuff I need' and boughten two decoy riplers with the gift cards my dear Mother gave me for being such a good Son.  Thanks Mom!  Turns out that the boys at Duck Commander will give you a free duck call if you send them a copy of your receipt.  I sent them a nice note thanking them and also inviting them to check out the Blog.  (Welcome New Readers!)  Then I came home and starting thinking.  "What else could I be doing?" I asked.  Clearly the only answer was to wash my Dakotas in the sink and set them out to dry on the counter overnight.  washing them with a hose seems pretty disrespectful to me afterall. The last time Clider and I went out a couple days ago they were not so pretty.  That's right!  We went out last week!  Didn't hear aboot that?  Well, that's because I didn't blog then.  Aren't you glad I'm back?

So, stay tuned.  I'm going out sometime this week to try out my new motion bag.  3 different rippling decoys and a newly streamlined jerk rig with the cleanest Dakotas around.  I'm going to slay for sure.
GBCH

Don't call it a comeback?

It's been a while, a lot has happened since my last post. Peat, our dear friend and retriever of many would be NRs passed suddenly, leaving a large hole in our hunting presence.  Junebug moved into position as new dog, second best retriever, and all around good girl.  I changed jobs, which led to a sharp decline in hunting days for 2018/19. My "mud boat" was sold and I moved into a kayak, which I then sold in order to get a larger kayak to fit the second best retriever. But now it's time to bring back the blog, at least for one post. We'll see if it sticks.

Junebug- New dog. 

Opening day came and went a while back, but no one could be bothered to go duck hunting. Otis was in town for a few days and decided we should give it a try to see if we still enjoyed it. So, I headed out and did a bit of scouting and found lots of little birds scattered around the normal spots, and one swampy zone that had mallards spread out in small numbers, with more birds circling.

Since Bob D has decided not to hunt this year, it was an easy ask to borrow the back up kayak. Otis and I headed out in the dark to try this spot that we've only hunted once before. Junebug had to stay at home for this one, as there was absolutely no where for her to stand outside the boat. At first it was brushy, and the boats were heavy. Then it was muddy, and the boats were heavy. Then it was still muddy, and finally we could paddle. We had to hop out and drag our boats through some of the smelliest mud I've been in to date. The whole time we were kicking up mallards, and I began to think that all of the birds that left would be leaving for good.  The grass was short from what we could see, except in places with almost no open water. So we decided to set up next to a 15x20 open puddle, with our blocks only inches from us. It was dark and finding a good spot was impossible with every step being a workout. Things look further away in the dark, but in this case it was easy to reach an arm out and adjust the spread. We hid the boats in another tuft of tall grass and settled into our hole with water up around our waists.

Open water, nice. 

We were concerned about the boot sucking knee deep mud and and weeds being a great place to rack up NRs, but we decided we would only shoot up close. As shooting time hit, so did the birds. Otis and I each got one in the first few minutes, and then all hell broke loose. There were so many opportunities that we stopped shooting and just watched at times. A literal duck tornado descended on us, with greenies landing everywhere around us. I decided to just let Otis shoot, and sat back to enjoy the swirling ducks, the sound of feathers cutting the air, and feet splashing. When half of the tornado was down, Otis started shooting. It was pure chaos. Birds were flying within in inches of our heads at times. We wanted to get our birds, but there were too many opportunities. We each kept holding back expecting the other to shoot, which lead to neither of us taking some excellent opportunities.

After about 30 minutes, I had three birds to locate and Otis had two. The first one I went for was the only one I had concerns about finding. A hen mallard was laying feet up, and she had a band on her leg. The next one was a fat greenie, also where expected. But the third, a greenie I thought, was no where to be found. Otis and I each looked for a while, and finally after working up a massive amount of sweat, I had to take a break. Otis brought back a hen mallard that had sailed behind us, and another that dropped 15' in front of the blind. This was my first NR in two years, and I was pretty bummed.

After the initial 45 minutes, the action slowed to a crawl. We didn't want to take anything remotely long, we missed opportunities because we were talking, and the grass the made up our blind wasn't really thick enough to hide us anymore. We had a turd in punchbowl theme to our spread, and everything smelled in line with the theme. We stayed at it until 9:30, when I scooped up a bonus widgeon that had been flirting with our spread for a while.  That was a nice cap to the day, so we decided to look for my NR again before we started dragging our boats around to clean up. As we left the tiny bit of open water where our blocks were floating, Otis looked back and told me to stop. At my knees was the missing bird, a hen widgeon who's brown feathers had her blending perfectly with the churned up mud and weeds.

Wings are collected and cleaned for a USGS study. I'm hoping to fill a lot of these envelopes this year. 

We finished packing up and headed back home, all birds accounted for thanks to "expert" marksmanship and sticktoitiveness.  On the way out we dragged out boats past a big open piece of water with tall grass butting up against it, an ideal place to set up next time. The band, well no one filed the paper work for the band yet, so I'd guess it was banded locally this year. Junebug is primed and we'll be heading out solo soon, somewhere with plenty of place for long walks on the beach.

Only the smartest birds get caught and banded. 

Unless Anyone Responds To This Post....................

this is how I will do my Blog updates from here on out.  If you miss the story telling, tips on how not to be hunting ducks, great timely updates on my hunting follies and wonderful pictures to go along with the story then just sit there and do nothing.  If however, you like the Blog, and want to see it go on in its current path, then all you have to do is comment in the comment section and tell me why you love it.  You can even remain anonymous.  If you are Fred G., Clider or Cliffy then I'm not buying it.  You must post.
Here goes:

So for this season I hunted with Clider for a day, Fred G. for a couple and by myself for a couple more.  I shot some things and I missed a lot.

Just When Clider Thought He Was That Good.

Recently uncovered proof that Clider was not the first.  This does not bode well for him as he is now going to be hunting less than ever before.  So sad.  Good luck at your new job bike boy.

Clyde McKinley Campbell.  O.G. Expert.

Nick, the dog.  Ethel, my Grandmother.

The Build of 'The Blind' Two Thousand and Eighteen.

As Found

Clider was unable to help me build up 'The Blind' this year due to his recently being fired from his job. So, this morning, I went it alone.  I'm fairly sure I just built the best blind ever.  When I showed up only 3 wooden stakes remained from all that we have built in the past and those were all backboard stakes. 

Meet Mike Singletary

I moved a floating mass of aquatic weeds and debris from out of the space 'The Blind' would occupy and got to work.  Unfortunately this fall the H7HT only had $4.86 in the kitty to spend on construction and I had to re-purpose things from my yard as the bench and posts to support it.  I used the old 2x6s that my kayak sat on top of from the little trailer that went to California this summer after the Jeep was sold.  It's now only big enough for 2 1/2 hunters and kind of rickety with the posts underneath being just old 2x4s nailed together.  I figure the combined weight of all the Greenies I shoot resting on the bench will be enough to sink them further down and solidify the bench in the mucky bottom.  Also, knowing full well that we needed more space I constructed Mike Singletary, a small stand alone blind off to the right of 'The Blind' where an extra hunter can sit.  Much like the Chicago Bears vaunted star defensive player by the same name, any hunter sitting there will have their eyes bugged out by all the ducks flying from the left.  Something we sorely missed with the old construction.

Can't even see it, can ya?

Not having Clider around to cut massive quantities of brush was a downer but somehow I was able to cut enough to cover the set-up and get it to blend in with the surroundings.  We must remember to bring out some shears to cut grasses that are fresh when the season starts in 2 weeks.  What is there now will surely be browned out, but it's a good start.  All the mucky floating mass of aquatic debris was put right back where it belonged up against the fresh cover.  As I pulled out and looked back I could barely even tell where the new cilin' spot was.  Nice job Bob D!

As reward for my efforts on the way home I channeled my inner Crazy Andy Bykowski and called in to KPND for a radio contest they were having.  Lo and behold I was caller #9 and won myself a download of the new Tom Petty box set retrospective that's not even in the stores yet. Sweet!  Unfortunately for me I have no idea what a download box set of music requires but I'm going to try my best. After all, I believe it was Tom Petty who sang Breakdown, a song clearly about what will happen to other H7HT members after seeing the massive quantities of Greenies I shoot this year.
GBCH

Our First Ever Video. It's A good One.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UR4Lc64RimA

Nice Haircut Dork.

Remember this guy?  He was a fresh faced kid from P-Town who just moved to North Idaho.  This guy worked for Dave Smith Motors, the Worlds Largest blah blah blah etc, and he dreamed of one day finding great spots to go hunting for ducks.  He went to the D.U. dinner in hopes of meeting other hunters and learning the ropes of the great lands of the North.  Heck, this guy even won a rifle that day!  Man, he was so full of potential.

Then he met Clider, introduced him to hunting and was never 'The Expert' again.

Well as Stephen King once said, "Sooner or later, everything old is new again."  Bob D. is back in contention as the greatest duck hunter to walk the face of the earth*.  Clider will undoubtedly be working way too much to hunt and Fred G. still lives in P-Town.  Cliffy is a giant question mark and Andee is an even greater enigma.  Remember this face.  It's the look of potential, and I got it!
GBCH


*Only H7HT hunters walk the earth. All others crawl.

Bob D. looking Good With the Old Winchester.

But Fred G. Looking Tired.

H7HT, The Old Days.

Dallas.  Not really a member, but certainly a client.  He could throw a baseball real far.

Money Well Spent?

Is it coincidence that the new boat I just boughten for my Sweetie could also be used as a duck murdering machine?  Only time will tell.  Say hello to the Tamarack Angler by Lifetime kayaks.  It's a 10' kayak with just enough room to be overloaded by a few dozen decoys, some wikki and an old Remington 870.  And it's even the right color too.  There were others that are bright neon green but this one is a nice shade of dark water green that will disappear nicely into the background.  Get ready to do some paddlin' if you're coming to my neighborhood!*
GBCH


*hardly anyone ever comes to my neighborhood anyway

H7HT The Old Days. A Retrospective.

The First

Happy Birthday Former 'Expert'.

soon

In The Interest Of Posting Things. Shooting by Old Guys.

Shooting better than all others

Behold C. 'Deep Freeze' DaFolder. H7HT member and my brother.  Here he is visiting our local shooting range on vacation last year.  Not only did he shoot better with my own youthful gun than I did, he also showed his son how old men take their time and pull the trigger smoothly. Maybe, just maybe, he will visit again and shoot at least one duck for old times sake.

This may be the first in a series of me posting just for the sake of posting.  Last year was despicable.