Tori scores in the Brook trout department

Father's day outing

Adirondack brook trout bliss

bobbers, worms, and smiles

Rod Serling's take on a man's best friend - Parts 1 and 2

A few years back I was watching a Twilight Zone episode, and was moved to tears. For whatever reason, today I remembered the episode (recent grouse camp discussion?).

Here's part one:


And part two:

Quebec Fishing- EPIC!

I spent some time with Kuneytown Sportsmen's Club members and friends, on a recent fishing trip in the northern reaches of Quebec, in the Reservoir Gouin area. It was epic. Seven fisherman caught over 700 walleyes in 4 days of fishing. Many blue walleye were caught, in addition to the much more common yellow walleyes and a handful of pike. Lots more pics here.

Charlotte's First Brookie

On a recent May trip to the ADKs for brookies and turkeys, my youngest, Charlotte, nailed her first brookie, casting a Mepps Aglia from a canoe on Black Pond near Paul Smiths. She was thrilled; daddy couldn't have been more proud.

The annual May 'Daks trip usually yields pretty good catches of trout, but with the heavy winter and crazy spring flooding, the creel was lighter this year. We did catch some very nice fish in the North Branch of the Mooser River Drainage, and of course, I caught a few on Black Pond, as is to be expected there.

The turkeys wouldn't cooperate, though I did voice-call a nice Tom away from two hens with Mo and the girls with me, to 10 yards...but it was after noon. He was SOOOO dead, at least in all of our imaginations. It was cute to hear Charlotte and Victoria whisper "bang" every time he stuck out his neck and gobbled thunderously. Next time.

DOUBLE!

Nothing like waiting until the last minute. My brother, Chris, and I hunted Monday morning. Spring turkey season ended today. We had the whole month of May to chase turkeys, but due to weather, wary birds, and poor calling technique just hadn't been able to get it done. Monday was going to be it for both of us. We hunted a brand new location that we'd just gotten access to, but one in which we've see quite a few birds. Unfortunately the evening before we had a significant storm come through right before dark - 75 mph straight line winds and heavy rain. Turns out the winds knocked down what seemed like half of the mature trees in the woodlot we sat on the edge of and where we thought birds were roosting (didn't realize this until the sun came up).

Anyway, nothing gobbled from the roost anywhere around us that morning. About 6:15, Chris spots a Tom come into the field we were watching from the NE (to our right). Seemed responsive to our calling, but couldn't get him to come any closer than 100yds. Eventually a couple hens showed up and pulled him even further away. We sat there and watched the show for a couple hours. Figured we were screwed. Hens eventually decided to head to the NE (again back to our right), and toward a location that we might be able to ambush the Tom if he continued to follow, which he was. So we slowly backed into the woods from our location and tried to sneak through the woodlot. This is when we discovered all the trees laying on their sides. Trying to get into position was more of challenging then we thought. Chris and I separated as we made our way around the downed trees and to where we thought the birds would come through. By the time I got into position, the hens had already made their way through the field we were watching and into an adjacent field. Fortunately, we hadn't disturbed them. But still no Tom. Eventually I moved enough to where I could see Chris and he signaled that the Tom was still in the main field. We slowly continued to sneak into position.

The Tom had hung up in the main field, but was close. Another 10-15 yds and he should be in range. Unfortunately he decided not to follow the hens, but headed back in the direction he just came and away from us. That's when Chris noticed another bird. When I finally saw the other bird, it came running up to the Tom. They were both now 100+yds to our SW. Again we figured we screwed this all up. Chris and I stood behind the top of a downed tree and watched these 2 birds mess around in the middle of the field. Chris thought the other bird was a hen, but by it's behavior I thought it might be a Jake. Fortunately I had my rangefinder with me and could just make out the stub of a beard on the 2nd beard. Definitely a Jake. About that time I notice a hen had snuck out into the field to the north (almost behind us, to our right). Chris and I were exposed and assumed busted, but the hen just stood there. After about 10 minutes of just standing there like statues the hen began to feed. Chris then says, "hey they're headed this way and running!" The Tom and Jake must have seen the hen and were beelining it in our direction. Chris squatted behind the downed tree top and I set up off to his right. He says what's our plan - on 3 and you take the bird on the right? Sure! The two birds were on us in no time, moving left to right. They were at about 50-60 yds. The big Tom was in the lead. I had to wait until the Jake cleared the edge of the downed tree top, so Chris had a shot too. I now had a clear shot but the Jake wasn't in position yet. Unfortunately the Tom saw something he didn't like and I could see was starting to get nervous. The Jake needed to come forward another 10 feet, but about that time the Tom did a pirouette and was buggin out. No time for 1-2-3. He took my #5 Winchester Supreme turkey load right in the noggin and dropped in his tracks. This left Chris a bit out of position and he had to raise up on his knees to get a clear shot of the Jake. His shot was bit rushed, but found its mark. He knocked the bird down, but he needed a 2nd shot to be certain.

A fricken double on the 2nd to last day of the season. First time we took birds when we were together and we both took a bird. Very memorable!!!






Chris ended up taking a 15 lb Jake. Mine was a 24 lb Tom with a 10 inch beard and 1 and a half inch daggers for spurs!! Could have easily gone the other way, I just happened to be in the position to take the first bird and it was the big Tom.

Great way to end our spring turkey season!!

Dreams of Excellence

Classic piece of the Nuge on public television discussing the second amendment. That's three great tastes that taste great together. Oh, there's some NSFW content (does that make it four great tastes?).

Starts and Ends in the Kitchen

Two gobblers walked through the narrow opening between the fields, but at that distance I couldn't tell whether they were toms or jakes. I had done some calling at dawn from the front porch, but hadn't gotten a response -- maybe this was a delayed response to those yelps, two hours later. I drank the last of my coffee, put the kids' oatmeal bowls in the sink, and grabbed a camo shirt from the laundry. And down the road I went.

Keeping low, I scurried along the driveway, headed for a likely spot in the woods in the turkeys line of travel. Sat down against a too-small tree, pulled up the face mask, and gave a few clucks on the slate.

Within a minute the birds materialized over the knoll just inside the woods, coming my way. Purr, cluck. They continued forward, looking for me. About 35 yards out, craning necks, the gobblers surveyed my vicinity. A cluck from my mouth call put any doubts to rest, and they adjusted their path to put a little more distance between us as they circled around me, downhill, out of view in the woods. They weren't buying it.

A couple of clucks on the slate elicited a gobble downhill to my right. Minutes later, clucks were answered by a gobble, this time farther away and behind me.

I turned around, and gave several purrs and clucks, flapped a wing in the air and scratched it in the dirt. Cluck, purr, cluck, and I could hear the pitter patter of turkey feet running my way, downhill from me to my left, coming up the hill and getting nearer. When they came into view they were almost behind me. Kneeling, I twisted around 120 degrees to my left. The first bird stopped in an opening between trees at 20 yeards and I popped him in the head. The tom immediately took to the air as the jake flopped on the ground.

The jake was pretty small, with nubbins for spurs. That night we dined on tender turkey veal dusted with Emeril's, lightly marinated in Newman's family Italian, and grilled to a hint of pink, with a Finger Lakes reisling, wild rice & shittakes, and steamed asparagus. A couple nights later it was wild turkey/wild rice/wild mushroom enchiladas. Our first spring NY turkey, scouted from the kitchen. Natchur'ly.

Parts is parts, parceled, and PW focused on focus of cell phone camera.

courtesy of Regional Biologist Andrew Path Walker Weik and YOUR Ruffed Grouse Society.

Pest control, Princess-style

Pest control, Australia-style

courtesy of a state Hunter Ed coordinator (ain't sayin' which one).



sporting? ethical? discuss.

Bumped 1 (one) grouse ...

... on my walk this morning in WV. So, at least I got that going for me.

This is the real way to fish . . .

. . .  with swords.



courtesy of Mr Joshua "Voice of the USFWS" Winchell.

Is it sporting?  discuss.

Tired of Vicar Hogging the Blog :)

Got out fished by the wife yesterday on the Manistee River. Good times had by all!!

I got tired of looking at that dang salmo picture

Shiners and bobbers.

The primordial pike slime

It smells like springtime.

I got tired of looking at that dang moose picture.

Hey Youse Northwoodsers...

Maine ain't Minn-e-sota, but it tain't so bad, neither.

Gitcher Moose applications in. Due May 13, but why wait???

Duck Hunt - Dogge Eye Viewe

Remarkable video posted at Field and Stream

note: go to F&S for full wide-screen, hi-def goodness

Gatorade is for the Turtle Man

this is awesome.



ethical? sporting?  Discuss.

Cooking tips for Uncle Pete

clearly this guy has Dr. Dirt in mind . . . he even uses the word, "flaccid."



Enjoy your bacon.

Grousers in Vegas, Baby!

Sorry for the tardy report, but just wanted to let you know that Grousers were well represented (okay, just represented) at the world’s largest firearms and hunting trade show - the SHOT Show – held in Las Vegas in January. Path Walker ran the Ruffled Grouse Society information booth, providing show goers a wealth of information about wildlife and habitat conservation challenges and opportunities. He also showed himself to be a top salesman of RGS 200^th Anniversary Special Edition Magazine (with a reprint of an editorial by RGS first president, John Quincy “Road Hunter” Adams.

Joshua also attended the show because, well … I’m sure he had good reasons.

Anyway, after a hard days work, PW and Joshua dined at a very nice restaurant - Bouchon. Appetizers were excellent, but the entrees couldn’t hold a candle to a number of grouse camp specialties such as Pete’s Braised Woodcock Legs or Andy’s Basque Woodcock.

After dinner, which did include a flight of nice port and a quite good profiterole, PW and Joshua took a romantic stroll along a Venetian Canal, window shopping for high fashion accessories. A stop at a rare-book store convinced Andy that maybe his family’s first edition Jungle Book might not be the best thing to have his kids use as a chew toy.

All in all, an epic Grousers visit to the City o’ Sin. Enjoy the photographic evidence.

Andy manning the Ruffled Grouses booth.

Andy manning the fork.

Andy manning the Venetian canals (O GrouserSolo Mio?)

Joshua searching for the next Grousers Fashion Trends.

Colorado needs elk hunters

This from our friends in Colorado:

2/14/2011
Division of Wildlife

DOW looking to elevate elk license sales

DENVER -- In a new effort to promote elk license sales and support the rural communities that depend on hunting, the Colorado Division of Wildlife is launching a national marketing campaign aimed at challenging hunters to elevate their game by tackling a Colorado elk hunt this fall.



The "Elevate Your Game" campaign targets hunters age 30 to 65 using football terminology and themes to raise awareness of Colorado elk hunting opportunities. The integrated television, print and web campaign, developed with Denver-based 5-Stone Advertising, is designed to reach millions of hunters across the country between mid-February and April 5.



Division of Wildlife Director Tom Remington said that while the campaign has a national reach, it's designed as a proof-of-concept pilot project to test the effectiveness of marketing to resident and nonresident hunters alike. The goal of the campaign is to increase elk license applications for the limited license drawing as well as sales of leftover and over-the-counter licenses later in the year.



"The Division of Wildlife's ability to manage big game for Coloradans and visitors depends on hunters," Remington said. "Hunting supports tens of thousands of jobs in dozens of communities across this state. Investing in new ways to encourage hunters to hunt in Colorado is just a smart thing to do.

"

The Division is believed to be the first state wildlife agency to pursue a national hunter recruitment campaign of this type.



Hunting, angling and wildlife viewing are important economic activities for Colorado and stimulate tourism to rural areas of the state. Wildlife-based recreation has an annual economic impact of $3 billion across Colorado and ranks along with skiing as the top tourism drivers. Hunting and fishing generate $1.8 billion, supporting 20,614 jobs statewide each year. In the state's top five wildlife-dependant counties, hunting and fishing account for between 5 percent and 12 percent of total jobs.



However, during the past five years, the Division has seen the number of Colorado elk hunters decline by 37,500. Reversing this decline has become a top agency priority. An evaluation of the 2011 campaign will help determine if investing in direct outreach to hunters can convince more of them to hunt in Colorado.



The campaign features a 30-second television spot that will run for eight weeks during prime time on The Sportsman's Channel and The Outdoor Channel, two premier national cable channels whose programming focuses on wildlife recreation. In addition, 5-Stone produced two 15-second web ads that will run on popular hunting and fishing web sites, such as FieldandStream.com, OutdoorLife.com and NorthAmericanHunter.com. 



A third campaign element is a full-page print ad that will adorn the March issues of Outdoor Life and Game and Fish magazines, which have a combined circulation of 1.3 million. 



Each of the campaign ads will direct hunters to a dedicated website, HuntColorado.org, which features a section on planning a Colorado hunt. In addition to web-based ads, the site hosts a video that guides hunters through the license application process and a second video on planning a Colorado big-game hunt. Other links will direct hunters to the Colorado Tourism web site for information on accommodations and the Department of Regulatory Affairs to find a registered outfitter.



Tyler Baskfield, the Division's communications manager, said that the Division has increased its emphasis on customer service, with new products and services to ensure hunters get the information they need. 



"We're challenging hunters to 'elevate their game' with a Colorado elk hunt, so we're raising our game in customer service to make the whole experience of hunting in Colorado as enjoyable and as easy as possible," Baskfield said. "We have world-class hunting and we are ready to provide world-class customer service to match.

"

Hunters who visit the DOW web site will find an interactive on-line version of the new, user-friendly big-game brochure and links to "Elk Hunting University," a series of articles on the DOW web page that give hunters skills training and planning tips for their elk hunt.



In addition, the Division has staffed up its call center with special customer service representatives who are knowledgeable about the Division's licensing process and Colorado hunting in general. Called "Hunt Planners," these hunting experts will provide the local knowledge and insider tips that can help ensure an enjoyable and successful hunt.



Al White, Director of Colorado Tourism and the former state Senator from Hayden, said that the DOW's marketing campaign is an example of Gov. Hickenlooper's focus on supporting sustainable jobs in Colorado communities.



"I'm very excited about the direction the DOW is taking with this approach of actively marketing and soliciting hunters to come to Colorado," said White. "I think the return on this marketing investment for the state will be phenomenal."



"Hunting is a critical element to the Northwest Colorado economy and until now, our success has been based on word of mouth and trade shows," added Craig Chamber of Commerce Executive Director Christina Oxley. "This is a bold move that will benefit the entire state. Kudos to the DOW for being a true community partner and taking this proactive step.

"
For a downloadable copy of the 2011 Big Game Brochure, visit the Division's web site at: http://wildlife.state.co.us/Hunting/



To view a copy of the new on-line, interactive brochure with video tutorials, please visit: http://www.flipseekpubs.com/publication/?i=59966



Elk Hunting University may be viewed at: http://wildlife.state.co.us/Hunting/ElkHuntingUniversity/

Petunia the Piglet

Geezum, I leave you guys for a few minutes, and look what happens to the neighborhood.

Looky out. I 'spect they'll be coming for y'alls guns and dogs next.

Big Game sign-ups

Don't forget to put in for the moose drawings in Maine and New Hampshire. They are both open now. I have put in for them both, and will put in in August for the PA elk hunt.

How did we miss this TV show?

Kill It, Cook It, Eat It.

"Ever wonder where your food comes from? In each episode of "Kill It, Cook It, Eat It," a diverse group of participants is challenged to procure their main course the old-fashioned way: by hunting and killing their chosen prey, butchering it in the slaughterhouse, helping to prepare it in the kitchen, and ultimately sampling it at the dinner table. Some may enjoy the process while others recoil, but for each diner it's an intense journey that just may change their perspectives -- and appetites -- forever."

Carried by Al "Warm and Fuzzy" Gore's TV channel, CurrentTV, no less.

Mountain Lion Hunting in the Cascades vol. 4

My hunt has come to an end. Today was a difficult day with rains and fog, though there were some great moments. The Pacific Northwest woods are certainly moody.

I spent the morning hunting back down by the Toutle River

and turned up nothing, though it was worthwhile in terms of scouting for future elk hunts. And the scenery was nice until it began to pour.

I was impressed with the mossy-rain-forest that was accentuated by the drizzle, and the aromas!

After lunch, it was back to the Toutle

River wildlife management unit high country. As usual, I saw many elk, including multiple big 5 x5 bulls, one of which I stalked just for fun within 100 yards. Boy, do cross-hairs on vitals with a quartering away shot on a 5 pointer at 100 yards get your heart pumping!

I also came across this tree that shows markings of a bear that had been scratching, and then was startled to climb the tree quite high. I have marked with red lines each claw mark on the tree.

We set up for predators first in a clear-cut down low next to Silver Lake. We had

a bobcat come in to about 200 yards, but it darted around some stumps and never gave a clear shot. Later, we set up on a narrow razor-back ridge. There were elk below us in all directions . When we commenced calling (electronic jackrabbit squeals), they scattered. About five minutes later, I saw 5 black tail deer running right to left below me about 200 yards. They stopped periodically to look back, and then sprinted ahead. My guess is cougar, and so thought the guide. An anxious 5 minutes passed, hopeful that the big cat would show, but alas... my hunt ends.

A final sight-seeing rarity occurred. Coming down from the high country, I saw a piebald black-tail deer, which was quite extraordinary. Despite the lack of a feline trophy, I have seen and experienced in intimate ways an extraordinary landscape, I have learned a great deal about elk, drank some great wine and coffee, and have met some interesting and memorable people. That is enough.

Mountain Lion Hunting in the Cascades vol. 3

Hemingway says (about Africa) that "what's true at first light is a lie before noon." I learned some about that yesterday, and apparently so did my guide. It was announced this morning that we would henceforth focus upon the low country for cougars and other fur-bearers. Adaptive learning at its best.

My "guide" showed me an area on my map (good thing I brought that) where locals were reporting a marauding cougar. I was dropped off at an old logging tote road, and bid a good day. This is the luxury of the bonus payments for 1 x 1 hunts. But the wilds were mine, and I planned to enjoy myself, come hell or high water.

I came close to scoring on coyotes twice, but was lukewarm on the idea of shooting them. I saw bald eagles, flushed a grouse, jumped some black tail deer, a dozen mallards on some ponds, and

saw lots of good elk sign. I also saw what was later confirmed to be cougar scat.

I also killed a porcupine. I had come around a bend on an old logging road and there about 100 yards ahead was a furry creature moving about. I hoped bobcat, but an inspection with the 3 to 9 scope showed it to be a porcupine. I was told by my illustrious guide that while on timber company land (which I was -- the Weyerhaeuser St. Helens Tree Farm) I should be sure to shoot any porcupines I encountered. This poor fellow died instantly from a 7mm wsm at 145 yards. His quills will make many flies by a local fly tier.

Tomorrow is my last hunting day.

I hope to return to this area along the Toutle River, not only for the hunting, but to scout the Trout fishing.

Mountain Lion Hunting in the Cascades vol. 2

Decided to go for higher altitudes today, find some snow, and then find some tracks. We headed for the ridge and canyon section between the north and south forks of the Toutle River, which peters out to the east at the base of Mt St. Helens. On the way up we saw more elk, and lots of rubbing trees. I set up in a few clear-cuts and tried calling for cougars or any furbearer, but to no avail.

When we reached the snow line, we immediately found plenty of sign, but all bobcat. Ever the undaunted opportunist, I switched into bobcat hunter mode and felt my optimism levels rise as we gained altitude. We were driving on a road that was covered with between 18 inches and 3 feet of snow, that had repeatedly frozen and thawed, so that it was a hard, thick cake. Every mile or so, when I saw what looked like fresh sign, I would get out of the vehicle and walk the tracks until I reached a good ambush location, such as an old log landing, where I had long shots in multiple directions. Then, I would set up a calling scenario and let 'er rip for about an hour. Twice I had motion, but

both times behind me and I never got a good look at what was coming in.

As the sun climbed higher, it warmed the ice road, turning it into a slushy luge course that made for some absolutely harrowing moments, one of which ended the days hunt. We narrowly averted a skid into a snowy bowl that would have been UGLY (as in a mile straight down, probably rolling many, many times, before coming to rest abruptly against the tree line resulting in sudden death.) In the process of not dying, we got stuck.

I remember looking up at the sun and thinking two things. One: This is the kind of thing that is characterized by cascading effects which can end in cold numbing death. Two: Slow death might be worse than sudden death.

I looked at Ray, my guide for the day, who isn't a guide at all, but a nice guy nonetheless. I had been telling him for about a mile that we were making a big mistake by challenging "chewy" snow, especially as high up as we were, and with the sun's warming rays. He said, moments before we almost slid off the planet, "If it weren't safe, I wouldn't be doing it. I ain't gettin' stuck. I don't want to have to walk out of here any more than you do." Truth is, he couldn't walk 100 yards in that snow. But I could, and would have to, for 6 miles.

So, after my mini-day dream, where the sky was beautiful and the snow was as white as a virgin's veil, and two things occurred to me (as above), I looked at Ray and said "It's 2:00 pm. The snow will only get worse for the next hour or two. We can try to get this thing unstuck, but, when we fail, I am going to have to hike out of here to get help." He nodded, cursing aloud, lamenting the straights he had put us in, and acknowledging repeatedly that he should have listened to me. I tried to ease his discomfort. "Its a beautiful day. How bad can it be be?" He looked at me with a small amount of fear in his eyes, and said in a low voice, "We are over 20 miles from a real road, it'll be dark in a few hours, there is no cell phone reception here, and I don't have the right extrication gear. I am sorry I got us here, but now we're fucked."

I though hard about this frank assessment. It occurred to me, as it often does in these kinds of situations, that at least, there were no snipers. And nowadays I add, no IEDs. However, Ray was right in stating the hard reality of our situation. I asked him how far he could go. He said "I'd be a fool to leave this truck. They'd find me wadded up." That, of course, left precious few options. I needed to ruck up quickly, get down the mountain, communicate our situation to someone (like the outfitter in charge) as soon as possible, and get Ray off this mountain to prevent him a very cold night at minimum (I shuddered to think of that ridge at 2am). Hoo-ah.

A quick inventory ensued. 4 bottles of water, a rifle, a handgun, 2 oranges, a stick of salami and some beef jerky. I checked my pack. Survival gear, 1 first aid kit, emergency blanket, whistle, compass, GPS (Rhino w radio), and a couple of knives. Good to go. I took a GPS reading and recorded the coordinates. "Ray, I'll take half the water, an orange and the pistol. I'll be down by dark I hope, and you'll be outta here by midnight. Stay warm, don't leave this position- you're on your own" (I'd been wanting to use that line for years). I shook Ray's hand and left at 2:15 pm.

It was pretty simple. I'd either make contact with someone at the first available cell phone signal and set the gears in motion, or I'd spend the night out here, and so would Ray. I tried to leave it right there in my head, and ignored the nagging realities of cascading effects. I recalled the last place I felt the vibration of my phone receiving email or text messages was about two miles a way, on a ridge where one could see Mt. Ranier, Mt. Adams, Mt. Hood, and Mt. St. Helens from virtually the same spot. I checked my battery --going low fast with the temps and the constant searching for signal. I shut it off and began my march, snapping a photo of the stuck truck before leaving (above).

After about two miles, I arrived at the ridge. I checked signal, dialed the outfitter, and afterwards my wife, and related the situation, gave coordinates, and assessed options. Once that was accomplished, I was relieved. Now that someone knew where we were, we were in good shape. It took me about three hours to get down to below snow line, and the outfitter was arriving as I was taking off my pack. After a tense exchange with him, he was convinced that he couldn't simply run up there and fix things John Wayne-style, without making a bigger mess. I made it clear that I had no intentions of going back up there having just come down plus 5 miles, just to get stuck and have to spend the night in the snow. We debated for a few minutes, but my photos, description, and GPS coordinates convinced him easily to call in reinforcements. Ray was rescued from the ridge before 11 pm.

Tomorrow, we will return to the snow, but will not attempt to drive so far. I hope to find a good transitional spot to be well positioned for either mountain lion or bobcat. Stay tuned.

Mountain Lion Hunting in the Cascades vol. 1

First day of a 4 day hunt for mountain lion in Washington State (Mt St Helens area, Toutle River Valley)... no lions, but lots of elk and blacktail deer today. Had the crosshairs on two different shooter bulls at 100 or so yards. What a rush, even though season is closed.

That's Mt Ranier above, and Mt St Helens in the background below. Saw some cougar sign in the clear-cuts, but no lower elevation snow means tough hunting. Spot and stalk mixed with liberal predator calling set-ups in likely areas. At least the scenery is trophy-class.

Wicksall setter breeding planned

I know most of you guys with two year old dogs aren't in the market for a new pup, but perhaps some of our intrepid readers may be interested. The dam is a litter mate of my Phoebe. Here's the info:

I’m responding to let you know that a breeding is planned for late Feb. with pups ready to go in late June. I have attached pics of my Daisy and her sire Bandit who I also own. She’s the one next to me but as you can see the two are carbon copies. I have also attached a pic of the sire I plan to use for the breeding, Ben, who is owned by a guy that works in the same office I do. Both have passed the Penn-Hip with flying colors and Daisy is registered with FDSB, Ben will be within a month. Ben is a great uncle of Daisy which I want so I can hopefully have access to this same bloodline in the future. I do not plan to keep a pup but the sire’s owner wants first pick.

I’m taking reservations now and asking $550 and $600 with $100 down to hold a pick. I’ll refund the $100 if you change your mind but it’s the only way to develop a priority list for those serious about it. There are a few others ahead of you but you would be pretty high on the list at this point. I don’t anticipate them lasting long since I recently heard that several other breeders in the L.P. including both Bandit’s and Ben’s breeders are not planning any spring litters.

I can send Daisy’s pedigree but I need to scan it in which I have not done yet. I have the pedigree of one of Ben’s littermates if you want it but his will not be available until he is registered. This bloodline has quite a mix including Bondue and some Llewellyn. The line was developed by a group of woodcock banders in Mich. who wanted close working, cautious dogs. That’s what you will get- these dogs don’t range much over 50 yds. in the thick stuff but will stretch it out on the Montana prairies when they can see the handler better. There is no field trial in this line. The offspring should run 40-55 lbs. and if they are like their parents they will be very personable. I want them to go to hunters only but they make great family dogs too. My two greet my whole family every morning and act like they haven’t seen us for a month the way they carry on.

Feel free to call me at work or home if you wish to talk more. Also let me know if you want the pedigrees and hip results. I also have more pictures- Ben made the cover of the MI hunting guide in ’08 with his owner and owner’s two daughters (bottom photo).

Daisy is owned by Jim Caron of the Michigan DNR, in Crystal Falls, Michigan (U.P.), and I can put anyone who's interested in touch with Jim. thanks everybody.
Jim

Tori wants a beagle...

January Harvest

I've been exploring a bit lately, searching for coverts closer to the new farm. Yesterday felt like Christmas when my neighbor suggested I use his property as a gateway to the public land just over the ridge. Hunting right out the back door!

Drove across Half Moon Creek with high hopes and parked the car next to a dilapidated deer camp . Within five minutes dog and I were drawn to a copse of young white pine. She pointed, then relocated, muscles slowed by whatever hormone it is that paralyzes an excited pointing dog. Another solid point.

I stepped forward as the grouse broke from top of a pine, five yards high and 15 yards ahead. Up went the SKB. No snag of the gun butt on my clothing. No forgetting the safety (as I had the day before). Stock planted solidly to cheek. Smooth swing from left to right. All very deliberate.

The bird tumbled. Pure joy. I called back the excited dog. Lilly, here! She had not seen the bird fall and was well beyond, having followed its trajectory. Returning to me, she winded the grouse, picked it up and came straight over. Perfect. A beautiful cock bird with full ruff.

Canoga's Tiger Lilly, fit to explode with excitement, SKB and

Grouse

The remainder of the hunt yielded no more birds, but we found some very nice cover. All five minutes from my stoop. And access to 100s of acres of game commission and Penn State land. I plan to return soon, taking advantage of last night's snow.

Cock bird, skinned and quartered, with crop contents (raisins, bar berries, greens)

Experiencing the sublime

concealed in demarcation

quarrels over birds

in the goose fields

A confessional history lesson: on interdependence, reciprocity & proof

It is the New Year, and I am all for a bit of stock-taking and cleaning out the closet, some musing and reminiscing, and perhaps even some meddling. I note that multiple posts have gone up, been commented on, and have come down (perhaps they end up in a lock-box on YouTube- special handshake only, or on the Solo Grouser blog...). This has been noted by other Grousers as well. One Grouser was in the middle of watching the latest Ballet Boy-esque, mealy-mouth criticaster, greedy's greatest block-buster when it suddenly disappeared! But I saw it, and the highly ethical comments, and I am in a mood to bury a hatchet, one way or the other.

So this post is wordy. And long-winded. And there are no cartoons. My apologies in advance. I hope to dispense with a facile bully-pulpit and a large blind spot (for the non -gender confused wordsmiths, facile means: Appearing neat and comprehensive by ignoring the complexities of an issue; superficial),while at the same time, fixing something, or at least setting facts straight, once and for all.

The following is both a confession and a history lesson that apparently is needed.

The bottom line is, sometimes I feel guilty about the fact that I facilitated a reality where many of my out-of-town friends hunt my neighbor's properties, even when I am not with them. I worry that those neighbors accommodate this situation because they are, in fact, very generous and big-hearted people. I worry that such an arrangement is not fair, and that such unfairness may jeopardize important elements of interdependence in my community. I am sure those friends would say that I should not worry. That is why I count them as such good friends. And yet, I do worry.

My continued emphasis on reciprocity comes from an honest concern about fairness and interdependence. Before I came to Canoga-land, I counted some of the original "5 smart guys" my friends. Since I met them in 2001, they have become some of the best friends a guy could have. When I arrived in Canoga-land in 2002, I met some other great people through Mike O'Connor, who taught me as much about ducks as Ernie has taught me about geese (in truth, they tolerated me because they loved my dog Fiona--just ask them).

My neighbors (Ernie, O'Connor, David, Robert, and Brent) were and are very generous with me here in my neighborhood when it comes to hunting, farming, or other neighborliness (like when Mo was hurt-these neighbors and friends met every imaginable need, like I hope to do for them some day). It is my neighbors/friends who originally hosted a complete stranger in Criticaster/ Greedy/Ballet Boy (on my request) and others at their hunting spots, or their farms. My Canoga-land neighbors have become some of your (original 5 smart guys) friends--that is great. We've all become Grousers of a sort. That truly makes me happy. But I live here in Canoga-land, and while some Grousers do, many, most of you don't. The Canoga-land denizens are all people that I deal with all year long, not just two weeks of hunting season. Like it or not, there is a give and take, there is reciprocity, everywhere in the world.

There are two coinciding historical events that complicate, or at least add complexity to this; (1) my decision to strike out on my own to hunt waterfowl so as not to burden my neighbors and friends with greater numbers of hunters and decreased satisfaction regarding calling, decision-making, etc., and (2) my good fortune in having been invited to hunt the Morehouse baitponds by the property owner.

There was a time when repeated complaints of "too many people" came from the land of the dozer pile, and "too much calling." Being the newcomer, and sensitive to the wishes of the elders in my community, and not insignificantly, the owners of the location and decoys for field hunting geese, I gave thought to how I might go on my own. I spoke of this conundrum with Eric, the very first person I met here in Canoga-land, who hunted only a few times at the dozer pile. We decided it would be best for all parties involved if Eric and I joined forces and struck out on our own. We invested in our own rig, pooled our decoys and invested in more, and secured properties other than my own property, mostly away from where my neighbors liked to hunt.

An exception to "away from where my neighbors like to hunt" is the location of the Morehouse baitponds. It is right next door to the dozer pile. I am fortunate to have been invited by the owner of the Morehouse bait ponds (Marty) to be one of the few people that have permission to hunt there, along with Eric, who happens to be my hunting partner, friend, and right-hand man to Marty. Marty enjoyed a memorable opening day hunt with me in one of my duck blinds on Cayuga Lake--come to think of it, so did my good friend Ballet Boy, the same day.

That exception, the fact that Eric and I can hunt the Morehouse ponds, has caused problems for me (and certainly Eric, too), since I can't give other friends permission to hunt there. I have permission to be there, but not to bring in others. So, between the original problem of too many hunters and decreased satisfaction, and the ensuing conflict over access/privilege regarding the Morehouse ponds, it was clearly best not to take advantage of the goose hunting wonder that is the dozer pile. Why? Because it doesn't seem fair. I care about that. This decision was not without its downsides, in that certain social rituals would be missed, like the post-hunt campfires (which have become more infrequent in any case).

So, prior to whatever it is that Ballet Boy is inadvertently or purposefully stirring up in my community, the situation was this:

* My friends and neighbors from anywhere, including the southern end of the lake, have a standing invitation to hunt my blinds in Canoga Marsh. Most have taken advantage of that and I hope will continue to do so. Is there reciprocity expected? Certainly. Most everyone who hunts those blinds participate in it's maintenance and upkeep, including camouflaging it and decoys.

* I have a standing invitation to hunt the dozer pile with Ernie and O'Connor (unless there are too many other people, like family members, which should always have priority).

* Mobile field hunts coordinated and hosted by the Illegal/Cagey gang are usually limited to four people, a number we feel is optimal for concealment and effectiveness/efficiency of setting up and taking down the spread. On occasion we accept invitations to other properties to double up spreads, which may mean more people.

* Deer hunting and turkey hunting is different.

So, what I have learned while living here in Canoga-land is that reciprocity is a good and worthy thing. It is a cornerstone of interdependence. It is how agrarian communities operate, how rural communities stick together. The reciprocity remarks I have made to Ballet Boy are to be taken as gentle reminders of how the system actually works. Yes, everybody seems so generous! Thank an ancient agrarian cultural construct called reciprocity for that. Now, so that unbelievers who are experts in ethics and right and wrong living can feel more comfortable with this history lesson, here is a wordy excerpt:

Independent thinking alone is not suited to interdependent reality. Independent people who do not have the maturity to think and act interdependently may be good individual producers, but they won't be good leaders or team players. They're not coming from the paradigm of interdependence necessary to succeed in ... organizational reality.

Stephen Covey, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, 1989

Whatever the reason for the skewed discourse on goose hunting (which has gone a bit beyond friendly competition by anyone's measure and can arguably be looked upon as fomentation of animosity and side-taking) I want to distance myself from all of this and say publicly that I am deeply grateful to Mike Ernst, Mike O'Connor, Brent Murray, and Robert and David Thompson for their generosity to me, my family, and even my friends since 2002. This extends beyond hunting, and all of these men and their families know what I am talking about. I know that each of you would brush this all off and dismiss it, saying that my friends are your friends and are welcome anytime. That is why I am thanking you.

To my friends from out of the immediate area, I love it that you love it here. I love hunting with you here, or anywhere. I love it that you are friends with my neighbors! I love friendly competition, and grousing as much as the next guy. Hell, I love YOU guys. Ballet Boy, you know I have skin that is plenty thick (Rhino, elephant?). I know you do too. I know I am an interloper to Grouse Camps and Cornell and all that you hold sacred, and that legitimacy is negotiated. I know sometimes it makes you as mad as Hitler, er, I mean hell. But all of that aside, let me know if I am ever messing with your community and your place in it. Rattle a bit, like I have been rattling. And try to tread lightly, and not on me.

I'd like to bury the hatchet on this over-exaggerated and overly-sensationalized-by-media mogul-Tantillo rift, and I would certainly like to get back to the quaint notion of friends hunting. I am sure that my sentiments will be satirized once again, and that is fine. But I said what I mean, and this post won't be taken down, privatized, etc. at least not by me. I may not throw a journal, but I will certainly let the words stick, come what will, cost what it may.

I was asked by Jim once to comment on why I hunt, and I said: I for one don't hunt to prove anything, but to get back to an elusive something. Thanks to this landscape, and unconditional friendships that solidify within them, I always feel a level of fulfillment, of being "at my limit" in the satiated sense. I am proud of my farm, and my hunting, and my friends. Viva la Canoga.

Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps there is proving. Perhaps the "hero of every hunting story" problem that Rich described is a reaction to the fear of not being a hero in any story at all. Perhaps hunting helps us prove that we can be heroes, through mastery and persistence. Perhaps, when the noise of "constructive criticism" and the onslaught of suspicion by even your closest allies that you really are illegitimate, a fraud, a fake, an imposter and interloper, becomes almost deafening, perhaps it is then that the proof, the antithesis, the null hypothesis, is in the well placed shot and all that went in to it and becomes of it. The irony is that perhaps that cannot be shared or truly appreciated except for by a very few.

All well and good.

I want to end this though. I would not have posted the picture of opening day waterfowling had I known it would lead to these perturbations. I regret it now, and all that has gone with it. There shouldn't be hard feelings about the privilege of hunting. Life is way too short for that in my opinion.

So, Ernie and O'Connor, I am sorry about any rift. I "left the party" because I thought it was what was required. Afterall, you weren't the first Grousers to have kicked me off into the stormy sea with the infamous phrase "You're on your own!" My absence now should not be taken as a slight, despite all grousing and what not.

JT, despite your acerbic efforts to stir the pot and find enjoyment at others' expense disguised as good clean fun, I love you like a brother. I am absolutely convinced that you understand the difference between personal ribbing and the whole interdependence thing, and that you will respect my feelings about this as a matter of principle.

Finally, let us ponder the words of T. S. Elliot-- "For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning."

So I hope to put the so called rift, the worries of reciprocity, and all the rest, to rest, at last. I welcome thoughts on this from those involved.

Anyone else, sorry to have bored you. Happy New Year Grousers.

New Year's Eve--Picking the last drake

Awesome times in 2010. Closed out the year with more limits on ducks (see the movie- best with sound).

Totals- 48 geese/ 67 ducks-- total waterfowl in 2010 second half- 115

The smoker is in over-drive