Friday, March 31, 2006

check it out

We seem to have our first cyber-stalking anti-hunter over on the hunting haiku daily web site. The individual appears to come from the Detroit Michigan area and goes by a number of monikers, including "Bumps Cassidy," "Sally Phillips," "Levon McHenry," and "Pete LaBlanc." I'm sure there will be more.

So come on over and help us fight the infidels . . . in haiku form, of course. :-) Take a look at the threads that have multiple comments.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Where is Ducking Pete?


Last I saw him was beneath reddening maples...

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Friday night at the fights

Just thought you all might be curious to read that long-time friend of grousers, Frank Zappai, is participating in the first ever Choka Cage Match at chokaonit.com Friday night, 8pm - midnight, Eastern.

The press release for the event is at http://www.prleap.com/pr/30220/ . I know you all join me in wishing Frank the best of luck in this newest endeavor!

choka on, Frank!

Monday, March 20, 2006

Hunt report: POAS for supper

This past weekend we had a nice hunt for pheasants on a string up at Keith's preserve in Phelps, NY. Along for the hunt were Ernie and Mike O, fresh from cutting wood all day in the Tidball bottomlands. Our dogge of choice for the outing was Cabin Boy's GSP bitch Mistress.

We arrived at the preserve at the appointed hour of 2:30 pm and filled out the requisite paperwork for newbies to the preserve scene. I haven't hunted pheasants on a preserve since Pete Kleinman was a graduate student . . . that's how long it's been for me. Mike O had hunted the preserve with Keith previously, but Ernie and I were new to the game.

Keith had them put out four birds for us, but we were hunting an area where there had been a large release the day before but very little killing (something on the order of 3 birds had been taken out of 20 released). So we were primed for action.

After parking the Tidballmobile our host led the way. Conditions were chilly, 29 deg. F, strong winds, with a gray overcast sky. Perfect for POAS.

We hunted our way downhill through some gnarlies and along some ATV trails. We heard a cackle at one point, and Keith went in and busted up a pair--missing shots at a hen and at a cock that soared far overhead--Mike O also took a crack at that one, and we marked well its descent for future reference.

Just uphill from that spot Missy went on point again in the gnarlies, and we heard BANG. . . . BANG . . . . then a few seconds later, BANG. . . BANG.

As we figured Keith had just killed all four of our planted birds for the day, one of us (can't remember which one) yelled out, "Hey, Cabin Boy . . . how about saving some for us?" But he had only slain one (whew!), so we followed the original hen's flight downhill toward some railroad tracks.

After twenty or so minutes of poking around along the RR right of way, Missy again went on point, and as Mike and I converged on the bird from opposite directions, the hen pheasant flushed out toward Mike and met her fate. This is this.

We continued along the right of way back toward the direction where the high overhead cock had flown. We reached a large open field and crossed it, the dog working into the wind at this point. We re-entered some woods, where Ernie found himself outside on the edge staring down at a lone cock pheasant walking in the grass. He pursued the POAS (is POAS singular or plural?), wherein said bird reentered the woods. Ernie picked up the pace, the bird ran, and down at the corner of the field where the field touched the RR tracks, the bird flushed. Mike O was in the right place at the right time and took the shot that Ernie passed up. This is this.

We again worked out way out of the woods toward the road, then recrossed the big field to reenter the woods where the birds had been released. Here we found the birds of the day. Within minutes of reentering the release area, Ernie had killed a hen pheasant with his borrowed L.C. Smith Marlin Pheasant Killing Gun, which turns out to be just the ticket for administering the coup de grace for treed birds. Moments later a cock pheasant met its doom at the hands of at least three of our group--the community bird.

At this point I had no clear kill to my credit, and so Keith said, "You the man." I followed little Mistress along a short ridge and then down into the gnarlies where she stood staunch on point in the middle of an ATV trail. I walked in boldly behind her, and as I passed her she relocated about ten yards ahead of me. Again I walked in boldly beside her, and she relocated one more time about another five feet. Absolutely textbook! I murmured to myself. As I walked in this final time, a cock pheasant cackled and flushed off to my left, and I dispatched the bird with my street sweeping SWAT gun, as Keith had earlier monikered my machine. (no Parkers for POAS for this Purist, no sirree). This is this.


The Street Sweeper--perfect for POAS

Our intrepid gang of four continued, looping around through a patch of hardwoods that held a turkey that Ernie spared when it flushed. As we made a lower sweep through the release area, Keith and I spotted a lone cock walking the trail some eighty yards in front of us. Putting the Mistress at heal, Keith walked up on the bird, released the dogge, and within another minute or so Keith had added another cock pheasant to his game pouch--although I in a moment of weakness killed his cock extra good as it was falling from the sky. "Tantillo, what are you doing ruining my supper!" cried out the astonished, chagrined, nay, crestfallen Cabin Boy, but graciously our host accepted my humble apologies for being so quick on the trigger.

Moments later, Missy was on point again, and I was designated the Gun of the Moment. Walking in boldly, I saw the bird on the ground in front of Missy's staunch point. All I could think was that the bird was crippled, it sat there as motionless as a woodcock. I walked in to kick it out, the dogge started moving, and the bird struggled to get up and out. "A cripple," says I aloud, pausing to see whether the dogge would catch it or not. The dogge did not catch it, as the bird arose in short order, and I began counting off very carefully to myself, "One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi," etc. etc.

At the count of at least four mississippi . . . give or take 1-2 mississippis . . . I let off the safety of my SWAT gun. Slowly bringing the gun to my shoulder, I carefully let the bird get out an additional several yards before pulling the trigger.

BANG.

All that was seen of said bird was an EXPLOSION of feathers no more than 18 yards away.

All that I heard behind me from the Peanut Gallery was "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY GOOODDDD!" and "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

And in an instant I knew I had essentially field dressed that bird in mid-flight.

I hung my head and turned away amidst the catcalls and hooting and hollering from the gallery. The POAS pundits were providing instant play-by-play analysis, and somewhere along the way (my mind is a bit fuzzy on the details) Cabin Boy described what had just happened:

"You put that bird through a frickin' BLENDER!"

And indeed, when Cabin Boy dutifully retrieved the bird for me--I in a state of shock, temporarily unable to function--he confirmed the diagnosis. "There's no bird here anymore JT. It's just feathers."

And suddenly, there was much mirth and joy as Our Boys realized that they had a new moniker to tag on Mr. Jim:

THE BLENDER

Needless to say that's not quite the nom de swatte I would have preferred for myself, but if the blender fits . . . .

Anyhew, I believe that that was the eighth and final bird of the day. After briefly examining the still smoldering remains of the recently departed aerially eviscerated hen, we decided to leave the carcass out in the open for hawks, foxes, or coyotes to finish off.

As it was near the end of the day, we beat a hasty retreat to the truck where Ernie provided suitable libation for us all, and there was much rejoicing. The scorecard for the day had been eight birds harvested, seven of which were suitable for bringing home and putting on the supper table.

well, that's all the hunt news that fits to print. signing off,

The Blendinator

Friday, March 17, 2006

this is a Grebe


New Policy: You must be able to identify this bird in low light conditions and resist targeting it to be able to hunt waterfowl at Canoga Creek Farms. No exceptions.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

...the sum of my African Hunt experience

here are some brag shots... apologies for being so "far afield"











Springbok, Kalahari SA 2001
30-06










Impala, Eastern Cape, SA 2004
.270










Kudu, Eastern Cape, SA 2005
.270

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

dog pic

Cagey asked for a picture of my dog somewhere along the way. Here she is as a young'n enjoying the water.

Dogge with Water Lillies (ca. 1998)

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Forget what Mr. Mike says . . .

And don't forget, he's the one who took us all on the NEQPD not too long ago (Never Ending Quest for the Perfect Dogge, for newcomers).

I made the field trip today to Syracuse to inspect the CZ Huglu Ringneck 28 gauge gun that was in stock at Gander Mountain. I now stand by my earlier statement that this gun--and the small gauge equivalents in the Bobwhite model as well--are probably the best value for a new side by side gun today on the market. You can shoot steel through them, the wood to metal fit is beautiful, the wood for a sub-$1000 gun is beautiful, you can have choke tubes--it's all there. The rounded Prince of Wales grip is my personal favorite grip style, so I'm in to that as well. So again, forget what Mr. Mike said about Huglu's Teutonic Majesty--he was undoubtedly referring to a 12 gauge gun from several years ago, not these guns being imported today.


Ringneck model

I picked up the literature. The 28 gauge gun that I handled today weighed 5.7 pounds and came up very sweetly to the shoulder, and my eye lined up right on the bead. The 28 inch barrel version of the same gun would weigh 5.9 pounds; and the 20 gauge version of the gun would weigh 6.1 pounds.

Move to the 12 gauge, however, and the gun jumps up to 7.1 pounds. This is probably a good thing, though, especially for you lads and lasses who would be shooting such a gun out of the Double Black Blind at pesky incoming waterfowl.

The only negative that I saw on the gun is that the case coloring is not quite up to Doug Turnbull standards (surprise, surprise), but also that I could see the machining milling marks on the receiver, ever so faintly. Well, you can't have everything.

And as I mentioned yesterday, the folks on Shooting Sportsman who have actually shot these guns are for the most part very pleased with them, thinking them a great value for the money. Read some of their conversation here, here, and here.

Again, the question here is value for the money. If you insist on a side by side that can shoot modern loads, has choke tubes, and you've got $4000 for a custom Spanish import, then have at it. But if your budget is under $1000, then the Ringneck I looked at today was $999 new in the box--for a 28 gauge. The Bobwhite with double triggers and English grip would be $699.


Bobwhite model

The only other guns that I can think of that come anywhere close would be used Ithaca SKB side by sides. Clearly some of the brethren have gone that route and are very happy with their guns.

But I think I may be getting a 28 or 20 gauge toy sometime soon, you know, just for fun. And we all know I like two triggers--lucky for me that's the cheaper of the two models!

Sour Grapes

Friday, March 10, 2006

...a meager contribution


God knows, and even Tantillo knows, that my gun knowledge is limited and that my gun collection, is, er, colorful. However, I have "kilt" a few things with my "colorful" guns and even fancied myself in the new gun market recently, having "kilt" enough to justify plunking down real money.

I bought the Marlin LC Smith in 12 gauge sxs. I regret it.

Now, I am am instinctive shooter, especially since Josh enlightened me at a firing range somewhere in the DC metro area by suggesting I become a left hander. (Why, because Uncle Sam found it useful that I sacrifice my right eye ...long story...perhaps next grouse camp.)

So, I shoot left now, and this LC Smith kills stuff. I beat the snot out of it the first two weeks I owned it killing geese mercilessly. I hit what I aimed at. But not well, not enjoyably. Bottom line is I don't enjoy this gun one bit.

First, hate the single trigger. Second, hate the inability to select barrels (important when I need a "fuller" choke to take the banded geese closer to Jim so they don't escape unscathed due to Tantillo Balistics Blundering) ;).

Third, and most important, the cast. Its a bad deal. Not well published or advertised, but clearly there, and not favoring lefty's. Lots of crippling shots, lots of ugly connections. Birds fell, I was shooting solo, the dog retrieved 'em, but they weren't the clean stone dead drops from the sky I have become accustomed to. Switched back to old favorites and I was back in "enjoyable" form. This is important to me, all science and ballistics aside.

Finally, it is stocked long (or else there is something else going on) which means the trigger guard beats my hand to a pulp (reminiscent of one of Pete's guns).

So, in response to an embedded comment somewhere in the impressive 19 comments to the recent Grouse Gab post, I'd say avoid the LC Smith Marlin thing.

True, I broke the gun in on waterfowl ('cause I have different guns for upland, of course!), but I think my impressions would be the same in any case. With that, I slink back to my amateur's armchair and await more action from you pedantic pugilists.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

GROUSER NEEDS GUN HELP!!

Hey lads and lasses,
sorry to have been out of the loop lately--was felled by a bug of some sort and spent the last 48 or so hours in stuporific doze under a mass of quilted blankets.

Anyway, just in case nobody's up-to-date and current on reading their 5 Smart Guys comments, Superior Shooter this morning pleads with us to help him address his off-season gun woes. To wit:
Maybe the esteemed panel can suggest a new gun for the house (grounds for divorce on my end if I get caught!)? What is the best left-handed poor-man's aint-got-no-good gun dog gun that you can recommend? I'll not impose any limits on the conversation but I'm currently limiting my looking to the Ithaca 37, the 870, the 1187, a "loose" citori and possibly a new Ohio born NID (all in 20 ga). Note that the last two choices require some lucky tickets at the next Red squirrels sportman's dinner potluck and bbq.
For the sweet love of the almighty, will someone here please help the not-so-humble one figure out what his options are? Also, if Superior would provide us with more detail about the RUMORS that he's passing on about Ohio-made New Ithaca Doubles in 20 gauge, that would be much appreciated by yourn' truly.

I know we've got some lefties out there--and I'm not just talking Al Franken fans--so let's pony up some good gun advice for the shooter.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

A "Core Business" post


Some of y'all might remember, last Fall, when a flight of woodcock arrived in the Finger Lakes Nat'l Forest neighborhood,monsignor Tantillo exhorted Cabin Boy to get to a woodcock covert immediately. Later, Tantillo whined about feeling guilty about hammering the same coverts over and over, ad nauseum navel-gazing blah blah blah.

Anyway, I digress...

Point is, my dogge Artemis had the hunt of her young life on that day, and I am grateful that Jim had previously introduced me to his FLNF haunts.

So, so long 'til huntin' season.

Welcome to 5 Smart Guys who Hunt and Mr. Mike

I want to take the opportunity this morning to welcome two new "smart guys" to the blog, which brings the total of smart guys up to . . . >5. (see Pete, numbers are my metier.) Blackbird is a student of mine with a keen interest in hunting and an almost pathological curiosity about the sociology of blogging. We also welcome Superior Shooter, whose most distinct character trait is an almost t0o-painful-to-watch humility. Stop groveling Super, tell us what you really think of yourself. I think you will find that Supershooter will sling the b.s. with the best of them.

Anyway, welcome to grousers.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Newly discovered Elmer Fudd classic haiku!!

This is an exciting find: Elmer Fudd's long-lost haiku classics, now lovingly assembled in a haiku chapbook and available for sale online. Check out the autumn artistry in these gems:

Buds form in the woods
Be vewwy vewwy quiet
I'm hunting wabbits

Oh boy, wabbit twacks
Whaddya know? No more bullets
Summer mosquitoes

And who could fail to be impressed by the verbal pyrotechnics Fudd exhibits in this haiku:

Wild ducks migwating
There's something scwewy wound here
Locking and loading

All in all, an impressive collection. Highly recommended.

Knocked down on fwesh snow
That wabbit must have twicked me
Uh-hah-hah-hah-hah

Jim

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Careful, it's rough out there, Bambi

Two deer locked antlers in a fight in Indiana and then drowned when they fell through the ice of a farm pond. For details and photo, read the full article.