The Bounties of Autumn

Decided on a kid hunt this weekend rather than a solo grouse trip, for a number of reasons. We went for squirrels, on the Canoga frontier. Not only did we mange a few fat Gray Squirrels, we also made a fantastic score on a Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureus).

First Born, First Rifle

A little over 25 years ago, my father and I walked out of a Gemco in California with a brand new Ruger 10/22. My first rifle. Over the next couple years, my dad and I would go to the range together and enjoy shooting, and enjoy the talking about the shooting.

A couple weeks ago, I handed my first rifle to my son.

Killing wolves for fun

Mr. Winchell of the US gov't sent me the following link from from this week's NYTimes Magazine: http://ethicist.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/08/killing-wolves-for-fun/

Here's an excerpt:

The Issue

The Interior Department has ruled that wolves have sufficiently increased in numbers in the Western continental United States to allow some wolf hunting there. The Idaho hunt began on September 1; Montana’s starts on the 15th. A case might be made for the right to hunt for food and to manage wildlife populations, but surely some of the more than 14,000 people who bought wolf-hunting licenses are interested in neither wolf sandwiches nor animal husbandry: they simply enjoy hunting. Is it morally acceptable to kill a wolf for the fun of it?

The Argument

Unsurprisingly, I believe it is wrong to inflict pain and death unnecessarily on a creature capable of suffering. (Peter Singer more broadly examines the moral standing of animals here.) While this belief might not compel us to be vegetarians, it does demand significant changes in the way we raise animals for food, and it forbids wolf hunting as a form of entertainment. To be clear, I concede all putatively practical justifications for hunting and repudiate only the idea that hunting is a legitimate recreation. It is the person who claims as much who bears the burden of proof — a wolf need not make a case for its not being shot in Montana. I’m not persuaded that hunters have made their case.

Some declare that hunting is a cherished tradition in their region or for their family. But having done something in the past is insufficient to justify its repetition. It was traditional in my family to be roughed up each spring during pogrom season, a time-honored custom in our part of Russia, and one we gladly abandoned when my grandparents emigrated to America.

Some note that hunting is a challenging activity. No doubt. As is juggling flaming axes while blindfolded. And drunk. But not everything difficult is desirable. Or ethical. Pickpocketing, too, is tough.

There are people who find it fulfilling to cultivate shooting skills, learn to track, take a walk in the woods, maybe bring the kids and make it a bonding experience or bring a couple of buddies and make it a beer-drinking experience or just an opportunity to avoid spending time with the spouse. All of these might be amiable ways to beguile the time, but none need culminate with a killing. Inflicting death is not an acceptable leisure activity.

discuss.

How to hold your breath for long periods of time

from Wiki How:

Things You'll Need

* A stopwatch
* A pencil
* A piece of paper for recording times
* A buddy, especially if you're underwater, or submerged
* A suitable body of water if you're going to hold your breath underwater

Steps

1. Do exercises to increase your lung capacity. While there is no way to increase the size of your lungs, there are many ways to increase the amount of air taken in by your lungs, and the efficiency with which they capture oxygen.

2. Lose weight. Any excess baggage reduces your body's efficiency in using oxygen.[1]

3. Quit smoking This will considerably increase your lungs' ability to release carbon dioxide and absorb oxygen.

4. Before holding your breath, inhale and exhale slowly from deep within your diaphragm. By doing this, you're ridding your lungs of low-quality air.[2] Spend 5 seconds breathing in and 5 seconds breathing out; do this for two minutes, and be sure that when you exhale, you push out every last "drop" of air.[3]

5. Take a massive gulp of air and hold it. Don't breathe in so much that you're about to pop; fill your lung capacity to 80-85% so that you still have room to relax.[4]

* Always do this with a partner watching, since you can lose consciousness without warning.
* Don't hold air in your cheeks. This method is meant for an air reserve, but you have to "let go" of the air in your lungs if you want to use the air in your cheeks, and exhaling air in your lungs usually gets rid of the reserve in your cheeks. In other words, it's not easy to switch out the air in your lungs and the air in your cheeks without letting both escape. But it can be done - see link on "Circular Breathing" below.

6. Splash cold water on your face. It's been observed that putting a person's face in contact with cold water triggers bradycardia, or the slowing of the heart rate, which is the first phase of the mammalian diving reflex.[5] You don't need to actually put your entire head underwater, though. You can splash some cold water on your face right before you hold your breath, or try using a cold, wet washcloth (don't use an ice pack, though; the same study suggests that the shock of something too cold triggers other reflexes). Just make sure it's cold enough (21 °C or 70 °F) and the rest of your body is in a relaxed position.

7. Relax every muscle in your body. Meditate so that you can lower your heart rate. Your body will consume less oxygen that way.[6] By closing your eyes, feeling, and focusing on slowing your heart beat, it is possible to lower your heart rate significantly and increase the time you are able to hold your breath for. Concentrate on something that's relaxing to you. When you can't concentrate anymore, distract yourself by doing something with your hands, like counting to 99 with your fingers.[7]

8. Exhale slowly. When you can't hold your breath anymore, try to avoid exhaling all the air in your lungs in a mad rush. First, exhale about 20% of your air, then inhale again so that oxygen gets to your most critical areas faster. Then you can exhale and inhale completely.

9. Repeat these steps 3-4 times per session. It is not recommended to do this any more, as it could damage your lungs and body. Try one session in the morning and one session at night if you wish. Keep practicing and before you know it, you will be able to hold your breath for several minutes.

How long can you hold your breath?

While holding my breath...

A Nation Holds its Breath

On the morrow, 8:00 AM, Conley and Maya make their (in)glorious debuts on pen-raised (as opposed to Penn-Raised) birds down at Candor (http://www.ringneckpreserve.com/). Check cords, whistles, e-collars set on 'deep fry' at the ready.

Expect a full report from an unsteady (one way or the other) scribe as dusk settles over the land.

more of the good stuff

sorry I've been AWOL. Keith told me to post something to the blog. Here it is.



Bet some of you may like other "Viral Video Film School" clips on YouTube. Be sure to check out the ones on animal fights and feeding the bears.

best death scene . . . nailed it.

The camping one is good too.

ID the Mystery Tree

So I've been walking the WV property identifying the trees and shrubs, but one tree has stymied me until today. Here are some pictures of the leaves and bark, can you guess the species? It grows up to about 30 feet, in the sandy, well-drained upland soil:

Maine Waters Redux

Maine Waters

Last weekend we took the boat out on one of the many lakes in the area - Boyden Lake - for a little swimming, fishing, and picnic supper.


the serenity was only disrupted by the danged bald eagles cruising the skies and landing in the big pines along shore.

First off, Collin got a hit on his Spiderman rig too strong for him to hold onto, so I assisted.

He was pretty proud of the smallie we landed; it went backinto the depths. The perch began to hit, and pretty soon Angela caught another bass, about a 2-pounder.

A friend had mentioned fishing the drop-offs for white perch, so we went armed with worms. The fishing became very good as the sun dropped; it was hard to quit.

Now, there's a keeper!

We kept the decent sized perch (10.5-12 inches), which I filleted that night. There must be a High Life commercial about cleaning the catch... Cagey?

Heavens, they're tasty! Only hitch is the state gov has a consumption advisory on most species of warm water fish, so we end up sneaking in a couple tilapia fillets for the kids.


The perch came fast -- you could hardly keep a line in the water. Great fun for kids of all ages.

Fortunately I didn't have nav lights on the boat, so we had to quit fishing and head for the landing. Otherwise, I'd still be cleaning fish today.

That's not a fish; NOW THIS IS A FISH!

Been way to long since I posted anything on the Grousers Blog. Thought I'd share a video and a few pics I took from my Great White Shark diving trip this summer off of Dyer Island, near Kleinbaai, South Africa!

AWESOME EXPERIENCE!! We must have had 10 different Great Whites visit the boat, which made we wonder how many of these damn things might be down there cruising the island hunting for seals. Also made me wonder what this new tourist industry might be doing to potentially increase human shark conflicts. Humans = Food?

Hope everyone is doing well. Sending positive thoughts to Mo and the Tidballs!! Looking forward to seeing many of your in Wisconsin this Fall!

SafariJim

Cagey Wanted Some Good Stuff

Happy to oblige...the Anniversary Salmon. Even with tilting 'im towards the camera, he was a pretty big fish. Kisses to Mo...see you guys soon.

Moira Update

Mo has been recovering well from her spine injury, despite some scary set backs, one of which required an additional surgical procedure. She soldiers on, as does the rest of the Tidball gang. We have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of friendship and love that have been such an important part of this last week. Heartfelt thanks and gratitude for all of the support and prayers. Moira is an inspiration, a strong, tough-minded combination of grace and grit. Here is a picture of her, full-out in her passion, a sporting pursuit as well. I won't speak for all Grousers, but we are sure lucky to have the spouses we have. Let us not take these things for granted.

























Now, somebody please post some of the good stuff. I am armed with a stout bottle of Scotch (from good Sir Peter), and am in need of a good story to go with it.

Horse for Sale...

...or target practice.

For those of you that don't know, Moira was thrown from this horse Wednesday night and suffered a severe spine injury. She is in surgery today, and I am suspended in the wash of all that was, is, and will be. There have been some touch and go moments, but if the surgery goes well, she'll be walking again before we know it. Appeals to whatever gods or deities you make offerings to are appreciated.

The best cure for scurvy

Sunday morning after the grouser mini-reunion found three of us - two suffering from IPA deficiency, one scurvy free - on Seneca Lake in George's magnificent Penn Yann. Slicing through a slight chop, we trolled lures at depths from 25 to 60 feet. Lightning quick, Keith claimed the first strike for his own and soon landed a 21" lake trout. I bungled the following few, but the population was quite forgiving and we eventually landed five of 13. Even Capn. George, ravaged with manly scurvy, left the tiller once to land a magnificent 24" leviathan. Please visit me in PA Furnace if you'd like to sample trout, smoked per Moira's orders.

Fruity, Fruoffy, and other F word beers

Had a nice reunion of some grousers down at the Cayuga pond the other night... cooked up some home grown burgers and kicked back enjoying the High Life...well...some of us did. ;)

A Guide to Snakes of Whip-Poor-Will Hill

Well, two snakes so far (and one lizard: eastern fence lizard, unphotographed).

I came across this black rat snake, about three-feet long, on an old logging road below the house. The dogs ran over it, twice, and never noticed.

A few weeks ago we found a three-foot timber rattlesnake just up from the driveway. This photo was taken by my brother-in law Chris, who had never seen a rattlesnake in the wild. We came across this one as we were driving back from a nice swim at Trout Pond, the only natural lake in West Virginia. My reaction when we drove up to the snake was to stomp on the brakes and yell, "Everyone, out of the car NOW!!" so we could gather around the snake and appreciate it slithering across the road. Probably not a sound behavior from a evolutionary standpoint.

Salvelinus namaycush

A 10 dollar Cameroon wrapper "Black Opal " cigar
and a + ten pound Lake Trout
on a beautiful July morning on Seneca Lake.
Priceless.

Noz on the Rocks

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Noz loves to climb the rocks in WV. Video evidence presented.

... the shock that overrides

Came across this quote I thought I should share while doing some reading...

"I whisper thanks to the animal, hoping I might be worthy of it, worthy of carrying
on the life it has given, worthy of sharing in the larger life of which the deer and I
are a part. Incompatible emotions clash inside me—elation and remorse, excitement
and sorrow, gratitude and shame. It’s always this way: the sudden encounter with
death, the shock that overrides the cushioning of the intellect. I force away the sadness and remember that death is the spark that keeps life itself aflame (p. 263)."

Nelson, R. (1989). The island within. New York: Random House.

An Evening at the Ponds

Warm Water...good for the soul. Enough of the snooty trout, let's get muddy.

Joined up with Mr Bill's clan for an evening of dog training, burger flipping, and kid fishing.

Hannah has a new 'biggest fish', with an assist going to Ben...not Arkansas class catfish, but hey...

And even McPhee went for a swim.

15 minutes of fame?

Hate to blog right over such an...uhm...inspiring post, but here is a piece that my friend Pat Durkin just wrote for NRA's American Hunter magazine on Heberlein's deer / grouse camp 'Up North' in Wisconsin. Some of you have been there, others may be soon.

You'll notice the genesis of Conley's name. The story of me and the farm girl is true, but by today's standards would probably be rated PG-13.

Jim has assured me that pasting in a screen grab of the first page and then a link to the full article will work:

link to download full article.

If it doesn't...blame him. 'Course he's the one who's gotten me this far.

Excellence in nature reporting

hard to know whether this is for real. Enjoy.

Rain.

Ask me how my "2 dads, 4 kids, 2 wives" fathers day tent camping and trout fishing trip to Kettle Creek (Potter Co, PA) went this weekend. Nary a High Life man in sight, but I enjoyed frying bacon in ankle deep water.

Truck

in honor of Father's Day.



Some of these are just making me laugh out loud.

Fish sticks

Josh, those Miller High Life ads are fantastic. I've just spent the better part of (cough) an hour watching a ton of them. Here's one that I like:



say . . . didn't you just buy a hunting cabin with a cappuccino machine?

Ice Fishing

Wow, two posts in a day for me. A record.

Keith's earlier posting of another in this commercial series enticed me to revisit these classics:

For Your Bogsuckin', Mudbattin' Pleasure

American Woodcock Population Status Report - 2009
with love, from the good folks at USFWS (you know, people like PW).

Red Tide Hits Downeast Maine

Brody ("... from the muddy place") arrived in Bangor yesterday evening on a Northwest flight that originated in Missouri. Geographic location of breeder will weigh more heavily on pup choice next time around -- shipping a verb can be expensive! Things have changed since I paid $25 for Butch puppy's flight from Detroit (but he did share the crate with his sister).

So far, so good. Eight weeks old, first of his clan to hit the highway. Seems like a bright little devil. No accidents on the floor, didn't cry the whole night, pretty mellow (so far), and the bride and boys love him.

Pointing golden retriever? Well, officially he's a red setter (http://www.nrsftc.com/), owing to an injection of English into the Irish ancestry in the 1950s.
His dad's a field trial stud from Kansas (http://pinehollowkennel.nrsftc.com/), mom is a hunting dog from MO. He should be about 50-55 lbs (Spy's 53); he's got bits of white on the toes of his rear feet and specks of white on his armpits and chest. He'll be at rookie camp this fall. Hard to tell just yet if Spy's nose is out of joint.

Crashing the Hatch

Penns Creek, PA at Green Drake time. Hallowed ground. Maybe the Hendricksons on the Upper Delaware come close, but this really is the holy grail of eastern flyfishing. Approach on your knees with the proper reverence.

Serious guys taking themselves seriously, reminding me of the great line from Greg Brown..."looking like everything just kinda stuck to 'em the last time they walked through ol' LL Bean..." Hushed latin whisperings overheard..."ephemerella grandis...quid pro quo...sic semper tyrannis..."

And then there was us. Four or five dads, a mom or two, and five kids rampaging through the woods at the top of their lungs. Falling in, dropping cameras, throwing rocks, playing tag, occasionally making a cast or two. Random screamings. Real life. Bet the fancy guys hated it, but they probably needed it too. I know I did.

another new bird dog

all this talk of bird dog puppies has made me nostalgic . . . . Some of you grousers have been around long enough to know that the first bird dog I hunted over was our Boston terrier Lucy, and I killed one of my first-ever grouse at Connecticut Hill with Lucy's help sometime in the early 90s.

well boys and girls we're back in the Boston terrier business at Chez Tantarlow--meet Henry, named after another famous transcendentalist Bostonian who will remained unnamed.

Henry belongs to my daughter Sophia, who saved up her own money for quite some time to get him.

Don't know how he'll be on grouse, though.

Welcome Maya!

On Memorial Day weekend we came home with our new pup, Maya. My daughter Emma picked the name based on sound rather than meaning. But the various meanings (spring, renewal, rebirth) feel like good omens to me. I’m looking forward to some renewal and great days ahead. Maya, Emma, and me (maybe Ben, too, if he picks up his sister's love of dogs).

Maya is a black and white Llewellin with a half mask. The breeder thinks she will be heavily ticked, like her half sister in the photo (black is the new white!).

I am technically co-owner and co-trainer in this enterprise. I get the back end and the part that wakes up at 5am. I also get October and as much bird dog as I am willing to create. Emma gets to be a 12-year old raising a puppy and training a best buddy. I am buying Emma a set of hunting chaps and a check cord. My "No Father Left Indoors" campaign is off to a great start.


A poem just for Maya
By Emma

When I look at the rain,
I think of the saddened tears rolling off of God’s face
When I look at the babies running around and screaming,
I think of all of the mothers at the spa
When I look at the color yellow,
I think of the giant sun that is warming the hearts
and souls of others
But, when I look at my English Setter
I think of the most beautiful, elegant and graceful
dog in the world
But, the one thing that is the most important about her
is that she is my very own

New pup

A long lost member of Grousers will soon return with dogge news (the Afore mentioned Grouser is pictured here at about the time his dissertation replaced all recreational activity except the occasional visit to a bear den). Looking forward to rejoining the fold.

Landed

Kids just love the outdoors.

Twenty-seven hilly acres of sandy soil in Hampshire County, West Virginia. Huckleberries, white and chestnut oak, Virginia and Scotch pine, sassafras, hickory and honey locust. Big boulders and wet-weather creeks. Deer and turkey sign everywhere.

After many years of dreaming about it, Karin and I finally have a place to release our kids into the woods. It’s quiet there, except for the phoebe, great-crested flycatcher, chipping sparrow, pileated woodpecker, and Carolina chickadee calls – and the incessant, insistent voices of the whip-poor-wills in the evening and early morning. The house on the property is very nice, came with a cappuccino machine and has a mountain view.

The kids have already constructed a lean-to against some boulders and dammed-up a creek to make a swimming hole. My first projects are to sow native wildflower seeds over the septic drainfield, and pick out a couple trees for next season’s deer stand.

The dogges are loving the place. Nos takes particular joy in clambering up boulders to survey her new domain, Stella is excited about the infinite variety of things she can get her nose into.

The habitat looks bearish (huckleberries galore, natch), neighbors have reported seeing el bruno, but I haven’t noticed sign. No bear season in Hampshire County, but one in nearby Hardy.

On a morning walk this past weekend, I bumped a whip-poor-will. She only flew 10 feet from me, perching on a fallen log. I stared at her for a bit, then looked for her nest. I found two eggs laid on bare ground to my right. I retreated and walked back to the house to make myself a cappuccino.

Sibley’s guide says whip-poor-will chicks can fly off into the woods within ten days of hatching.

Cool.

"Why Hunt" video

pretty well done video from California Waterfowl on "Why Hunt" . . . . Enjoy.

Why Hunt from California Waterfowl on Vimeo.

Post yer Kids Fishing over Memorial day Weekend!!

Here's mine... this was Friday. There will be more if the weather holds. Click here for more of the story.

Brookies in Jefferson County

After meetings at Fort Drum and Jefferson County Extension yesterday, I slipped away for a few hours in the afternoon for some Brook Trout fishing. Had 7 on, four of which I landed, all decent fish. Caught 'em on a little terrestrial imitation of the black flying creatures that were dining on my forehead. Felts Mill Creek is a very pleasing pastoral bit of water, and 15 minutes from the extension office.

Welcome Izzy

Beer camp has a new member as of 5-7-09 and her name is Izzy. She is a small yellow lab, about 55 lbs., that Carol found through a dog rescue program in the Rochester area. She is between 6 and 8 years old and very well trained already. She comes with an existing dental problem that lead to the removal of 14 teeth earlier in the week but it appears she is handeling that well as she is eating good and shows no signs of discomfort. hopefully this will give her a soft mouth when it comes to hunting. She is very alert to birds and small animals in general. Carol is thrilled to have a dog back around the house and we look forward to enjoying her for a long time too come.

Geneva firearms auction May 9

for those of you with money or curiosity or both . . . Hessney Auction House is having a big gun auction in Geneva, NY, this Saturday, May 9.

Here's the link to the catalog listing on the web: Lots 1 - 400 are guns and decoys; lots 400 - 1200 are army surplus.

Lot 262

Great Shad Fishing Adventure of 2009

Fishing was slow--Lou caught 2 doinky little shad and I caught, as my friend Rob says, "fvck all". A comedy of errors: Fri aft Lou picked me up from the bus from NYC--we rushed back to the motel, got gear ready, and were ready to blast off to the river. Checked boat trailer lights--nothing. The aft fishing degenerated into trying to trouble shoot the trailer: checking wires, connections, etc. Cussin' Pete and Reigel the whole time for the trailer still not working right. Of course, Fri pm at 6 no real place is open, so we got to know the folks at Walmart automotive real well. Jen was kinda cute with her horse tattoo 'n all, and I did get one classic line from her:

"we don't really have any tools here".

Nice.

Finally got the bright idea to find a Lowe's (up in Port Jervis) with a utility trailer parked out back. We plugged in Lou's truck to the trailer. Nothing. A problem with the truck, rather than the trailer. Sorry Pete, sorry Eric.

Choked down a truly crappy dinner at Apple Valley (never again), had a couple of beers and fell asleep exhausted. Next day, by God screw the trailer, we were gonna fish. And we did. And not much happened (see above). Except that the motor wasn't running so well. Seemed to not be getting gas, and some disturbing white smoke. Middle of the day, Lou cut out to go to the NAPA store to get a new relay converter box for his lights. We fished until dark with one small shad that barely fought.

Back to the hotel with a pizza. Let's work on replacing the relay box. Yeah right.
His wiring system had 5 wires, this box had 4. No biggie says Lou--we'll just cut this red one. Say WHAAAAT? And the helluva it was, it actually worked. Triumph!! Boat loaded for the morn, ready to go--THIS TIME, we're gonna kill 'em. On the water early. Full of coffee and hope. Load the boat, stow the gear, and...yank the starter cord on the outboard. A lot. Nothing. Smell of gas. Lots of gas. Hmmm...gas dripping in the river. That can't be good. Open the cowling. Squeeze the pressure bulb. Hmmmm...why is gas spraying all over the inside of the motor every time the bulb is squeezed? Seems to be coming out of that little crack there...

Checkmate. I told Lou it took me back to being 8 yrs old and wanting so badly to fish while my grandpa screwed around with machinery---lesson being that these things never work right.

Thus endeth the great Shad expedition of 2009. Better luck next year?

Lou--who is currently all geeked up on Springsteen because he is playing State College (!!!) on Friday night, made the following changes (6 letters only!!) to his classic "Badlands". To wit...

Shadlands, you gotta live it everyday

Let the broken hearts stand

As the price you've gotta pay

We'll keep Fishin' till it's understood

and these Shadlands start treating us good

I guess we have to go back!