The Big Freeze

I arrived home from a recent duck hunt just in time to spend the following day snow blowing and shoveling for the better part of 7 hours. All things considered I was no better off staying in Klamath County hunting ducks. The freeze is upon us now and here for the duration I'm afraid. Morning temps well below zero and a high in the teens. I had only made two trips to hunt waterfowl and now all the flooded fields are solid ice and the Klamath river also now with dangerous shelf ice and the potential for a full freeze across it's width. It has been many years since I've seen that river froze up tight as a drum, but this may be the year of a repeat performance. When I awoke at 3 a.m. Monday morning due to high winds slamming the little cabin and it's creaking sounds, I was hoping to get back to sleep for a short while. I never did and finally got up at 5 a.m. to a chilly 41 degrees inside, brrr. I fired up the wood stove and said hello to Jet and stalled her from her breakfast for as long as possible. Her internal clock is far better than any watch I've ever owned when it comes to her meal times. I got my cereal and coffee going and snuggled up to the wood stove. I mentally went through the packing of gear and cabin shut down checklist. The previous night it had snowed 5 to 6 inches and the west winds whipped up the Klamath into a fine froth of whitecaps.

On Saturday afternoon when we arrived it was brisk and quite comfortable. We took a lap around to jump our favorite ditches. We did get a nice Mallard, 2 Ring Necked ducks and we flushed a few Snipe, of which Jet made nice retrieves. In hindsight I wish I'd spent more time focused on hunting Snipe, as this was one of their last nights spent here before continuing on their migration south. Some of the ditches had thin layers of ice forming as did the flooded fields. Very few ducks in either places with the exception being the Klamath River where there were quite a few divers.

On Sunday the weather was turning colder with snow flurries, strong winds and white caps on the river. Jet stayed in the cabin as it was to dangerous for her to go in the river and I didn't want to take any chances. With her hearing about gone she is on auto pilot when a bird goes down and I didn't want her to get into trouble, or myself for that matter in rescuing her. I had a few good shots on a drake Spoonie and 1 Pheasant. The Spoonie was close enough for me to wade to it. I had to work hard to find the Pheasant, as he piled into a wide swath of tule's next to the river. This particular patch is dangerous because it has hidden water holes that are quite deep and ones footing is somewhat challenging. Tough enough for hunters but even worse for our 4 legged partners. They get more tangled that one can imagine, plus if they go front feet first into a water hole it can be life threatening. I've had to pull Jet out a time or two before when she's gotten herself into a predicament. When she gets that Pheasant scent in her head she is like a dog on drugs, she will not stop until she flushes them or I physically pull her out of there and convince her to come with me. Pheasants truly are her drug of choice.

Back to my story of retrieving the Pheasant without Jet's assistance. I spent a good 1/2 hour looking and had no luck finding the bird. I decided to walk the dike towards the old boat dock and loop around the field side of the dike in hopes of flushing the other rooster that I missed. After the better part of 1 and 1/2 hours I never did flush the second Pheasant and was now back up river from where I had dropped the Pheasant. I looped back to the river side of the dike and proceeded to go look some more for the downed Pheasant. I again "marked" the point from where I shot and took a straight line and this time after about 15 minutes I had succeeded. I was out to far before and made my way back in just a little and there he was crumpled in a pile, still warm to the touch. I was ecstatic as I hate to lose any bird or animal that I shoot. I was laughing to myself that Jet typically goes to short and now I tend to the opposite. Somewhere in there is a happy medium I'm sure. I felt like I deserved a can of Alpo for my efforts.

Throughout the day the snow squalls came and went as did the gusty winds. I retired to the cabin before quitting time and was happy to get my birds field dressed before darkness set in. The temperatures plummeted that night and I wondered if the cabin pipes would freeze and if there would be any birds left come morning. I knew with the temps being in the single digits the only open water was going to be the river. While I love to hunt the river it's no place to be by yourself in a winter storm. Even in fair weather early season hunts, I won't use my boat unless I've got a friend hunting with me. So the stage was now set for the arctic blast and big freeze of 2010. Jet and I hit the pavement at 0630 after a windy night in the cabin. The roads were glazed ice and not more than 3 miles down the road did I see my first SUV in someones front yard with a sheriffs patrol vehicle next to it. Driving north along the Upper Klamath Lake is a dangerous and treacherous piece of real estate. We drove slow and steady reaching home in a little over 3 hours for 120 miles. Happy to be home and looking forward to a good nights rest before we had to start the chore of snow removal in the morning.

As I sit here and type this story I am thankful for many things, even the ability to do the not so fun ones like snow removal. Jet and I want to extend our very best to you and your family and friends for a wonderful Thanksgiving. Please take a moment and think of those who are serving this country in harms way and their loved ones. We are fortunate to live in a wonderful country and lets not forget that freedom is not free. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Be safe out there.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Thoughts About The Hardcore Huntress Contest and Do It Yourself Hunts

Alright, I have honestly stewed on this for quite some time now. That being The Hardcore Huntress Contest that recently took place. Let me say that by the lack of comments I've seen on blogs,(virtually zero) I don't think I'm alone with my thoughts. So much to comment on and just where to start?

I will spare you the nitpicking from every angle, instead touching on what I consider to be the more important points regarding the contest.

I will open with the basic premise of the contest name and what can be read into it or not. At first read, it hit me as depicting a woman who is dedicated in pursuing her quarry within her own means, not an outfitter guided pursuit. The majority of women hunters are not financially able to afford the luxury of guided hunts. That's why much emphasis is placed on DIY hunts and the rewards of such efforts. Not to mention that DIY are public lands and not leased or private game management areas. The work involved in packing your own gear and scouting months prior are far and above more rewarding than the other. Writing a check, mailing it in, driving or flying to where your guide is then being escorted to where you'll be able to have a shot is not the same as DIY in my book. While the majority of top ten women wrote of being guided in exotic countries in search of trophy animals, this was a very disappointing selection by the judges in my opinion. To me it was a direct reflection of the judges themselves, how could it not be? Instead of the judges choosing a woman who has never been on a guided hunt to have such an experience and may never have the financial trappings to do so, they chose mostly individuals who had been guided once if not several times. Ultimately choosing a winner who had also been on guided hunts. It was about the almighty dollar and the chosen few, not the majority. I am not saying that the women in the top ten nor the winner did not shoot straight, only that the majority were not DIY in the truest sense of hunting. Was I in the minority thinking this contest was about DIY and in being so was optimistic about entering? Perhaps, yet this contest in the end seemed to be more about deep pockets and not hunting the lower 48. There are shooters and there are hunters, I proudly fall into the latter. Obviously there are guides because it is a lucrative business and for those who are able to afford guided hunts that's great, just don't knock DIY on public lands.

Let me move on to the next bone, that being what seems to be a diss on public lands. Have we not already lost enough property to those who have deep pockets, anti hunters and the environmentalists? We must not lose sight of what Aldo Leopold, Teddy Roosevelt and others of their fabric have done to protect public lands, for the PUBLIC! Perhaps I am off the mark here although I bet there were more than a few top ten who took their trophies on leased or private lands. We need to encourage stewardship and protect our public lands for us to have a future in hunting and for the generations that follow.

Of my greatest disappointments were the fact that in every photo was a dead animal. Granted this contest was about hunting, yet I sorely missed the respect and dignity due the animal, let alone the appearance and lack of conscious moral character chosen by the contestants. In my opinion there does not need to be dead animal photos to show ones self as extreme. What it showed me was a lack of respect for the animal and more so about the conquest and ego of making a kill. Call me harsh if you like, but I have been a hunter for more than 35 years and I feel it is a hunters responsibility to ask, Why Do You Hunt and to be clear about ones intentions. To do anything other, is disrespectful to our quarry, our heritage and the future of hunting.

Lastly I will touch on the aspect of glam hunting. Is there really such a thing? Well, from the results of the contest it seems so. Considering the major sponsor being Tahoe Sports Ltd. who will be filming the winners hunt and airing it on VS, they do have a interest in what appeals to the viewing public. I just ask that there be less emphasis on eyeliner and more on hunting. I don't feel that a woman's pursuit of hunting is any different then a mans. The goals are the same, the weapons used are the same, the efforts exerted and the shots made. Other than men being physically stronger there are no other differences in the pursuit of hunting. Hunting is without gender bias until the marketing intercedes. Can you tell I'm not a fan of pink camo?

I want to suggest that perhaps the next time a Women's Hardcore Huntress contest is launched that there be clearly defined guidelines. Better yet lets have a contest for the woman hunter who saves all year or for years, to hunt in her own state with a friend on public lands doing it on their own without guides or outfitters. Gee, what a concept. I bet there'd be a lot of wonderful stories with much less bravado, more humility and respect to the animals.

Let me close by saying that I have thought plenty of times about going on a guided elk hunt, yet a part of me feels that by doing so I would be giving up instead of stepping up to the challenge. I don't want to buy a Bull Elk, I want to earn it. I will get my bull elk on my terms doing it myself when I have paid my dues the hard way and have risen to the task. For me that is what hunting is about. Here's a link to my Extreme Huntress Contest essay and what extreme hunting means to me.

Congratulations to the top ten contestants and the winner. Truly have a great hunt.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Hardcore Huntress Essay

As we get close in on Nov. 1st. when the top 10 Hardcore Huntress finalists are posted on Tahoe Films Ltd. website, I thought now is a good time to share my essay with you. Regardless of the outcome I hunt because I am passionate about it. Hunting is a large part of what makes me tick and has enriched my life beyond words. I am thankful to those who have helped with my questions early on in my blogging and have become friends through the pages of Women's Hunting Journal. A few individuals in particular I wish to extend my sincerest thank you to;

Cristina Acosta, for her encouragement, support, guidance and inspiration. Color Conversations

Daphne Hougard, who has an amazing eye for capturing women in action through the lens. DaphneHougardPhotography

Suzanne Schlosberg, for her expertise in writing, editing and knowing the right questions to ask. Suzanne Schlosberg

Without further ado, I present my Hardcore Huntress Essay and photos:

My dad began taking me upland hunting and waterfowl hunting in southern Oregon when I was 10 years old. Those excursions set in my mind search patterns for doves, mountain quail, pheasants and waterfowl. Though my dad died when I was only 17, the values and ethics he instilled in me while hunting shaped my actions in the field and transcended the hunt to enrich all aspects of my life. He taught me that a responsible hunter is a steward of the land and its resources.

About 15 years after my first hunt, I reached a time in my life when I needed to clarify why I was hunting. The taking of life had become too heavy of a burden. For several years I stepped away from the field to better understand my motives. Each autumn, I felt the change of seasons pulling me back. I missed the sounds of the marsh at daybreak, the annual migration and witnessing the arrival of a new day in landscapes rich with life. Whether I went afield with a weapon or not, I learned that my father had nurtured the heart of a hunter.

I reentered the field on a lovely October day. My sabbatical had served me well and I found myself renewed, my senses magnified. When hunting, my pace harmonizes with nature's rhythm. I become the predator, putting aside my own comforts. A successful hunt might end with 4 days of goose hunting lying motionless in a ground blind, and not firing a single shot, or spending an October night in a freezing- rain lost in a mountain forest.The challenge of surviving in the wild, the tensions between predator and prey and beauty of nature fuels my passion and commitment to hunting that keeps me in the field more than half the year.

Hunting is about paying dues and putting in time. I have stalked for hours with the scent of elk in my face encouraging me along when my leg muscles were screaming. I've hunted bear during a sodden spring in the Oregon Cascades. Hiking ridge after ridge in tick and mosquito infested vegetation in hopes of seeing bear sign. I was rewarded with a one-shot kill of a big 7 square bruin with my 7mm Remington Mag at over 200 yards downhill. Dropped him in his tracks and then the work began. The rain pounded all night. I was so tired I could barely chew my sandwich.

Decades afield have taught me that hardcore hunting is conscious hunting. The success of the hunt is not measured in hearts rendered idle, but in the total experience. Preparation, dedication and knowledge of one's prey and one's self ensures that the hunt is a privilege to be enjoyed, savored and appreciated regardless of the outcome.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Giving Thanks , Everyday

This post is about an individual who had a major influence in my life. Inspired by Kristine over at OBS and about giving "Thanks" this season. Firstly, thanks Kristine for the challenge as I have wanted to write about this for quite some time. Now, the time has come.

As I begin to write this I am flooded with memories from many, many years ago when I was quite young. It didn't take me long to realize that I had my own drummer and wasn't much into dolls or dresses. Mom wasn't thrilled about the latter. Anyways, had it not been for the quiet soft spoken man I called "Dad", I don't how I'd made it to where I am now. Being the youngest of three and the only girl, needless to say I hung out with the boys. I will touch on a few of the highlights so as to not get to long winded.

The beginning of a huntress, somewhere around 1968 I do believe. This was the Christmas dad gave me my first shotgun. A real double barrel side by side 410 gauge, with double triggers, auto eject, straight English grip and amazing fine point checkering. There was no makers name on it, only "made in Belgium". Mom sighed again. I was thrilled beyond belief. He had gotten it when he was in New York city at a business convention. He bought it at went to Abercrombie and Fitch. Back in the day when that was, the outdoor sporting goods store of fine distinction. Not long after he taught me the basics and I passed my Hunter's Safety class with a 96%. Only missed 2 questions, the best test I ever did take! We spent many evenings hunting Doves in September and then waterfowl come October and November.

We had a summer cabin and this was where my dad and I would spend many hours pitching horseshoes. He was good and threw a 3/4 turn shoe and I threw a flip. We both pitched from the same distance and I am sure he let me win on more than one occasion. So when I started pitching professionally a few years back, it was with great fondness that I returned to the horseshoe pits.

He was in the lumber business and had a shop in our backyard. He built a river boat with my brothers when I was quite young as well as many other items. That was where I got my introduction to woodworking. He would bring home bundles of Pine kindling all dimensioned at 2"W. by 3/4 T. by about 14" L. I would build chairs and tables out of the kindling and even though the chair seat was the same height as the table top, he told me "good job, very nice". Oh and how that made me fill up with pride that my dad complimented my efforts. WOW!

I realize that my mom had a big role as well and can not leave her out. She was the rock for my dad and kept the home front running smoothly. Never a meal missed, nor a dinner that we all didn't sit at the table together and enjoy. They were a team and I give my thanks every day for the gifts they shared as well as the values they instilled in me. I feel their biggest gift to me was one of allowing me to be me and pursue my interests regardless of "social gender norms". They were supportive and even though they have been gone for many years. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of them both and give thanks.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Code Of The West

Alright, you are gearing up for the big game season and you've got some green horns or flat landers in your party. Not the experienced, tried and true hunting partner you've had for the past many years. Which means ultimately there are going to be some bugs that need working out. What I am referring to is the split. So someone in your party harvests an animal and there was no discussion before hand about splitting up the meat . This can either break friendships or create long lasting ones. It is a serious topic which needs to be addressed before leaving home.

Imagine, you just worked your a-- off helping to pack out a big Elk that your friend shot. This was on the next to last day of the season and everyone is celebrating up until the conversation turns to sharing the spoils. Soon you realize that you won't be getting your share. Instead of making a big deal about it you keep your mouth shut and remember to never hunt with that person again. You are more than a bit peeved and rightly so.

Anymore if I hunt with someone new I make a point of discussing it thoroughly. If you are all out there for the same reason and put forth an effort than it ought to be split fair and square. With my friends we call it the code of the west. My hunting partner John and I are about fairness and reciprocating. We make sure if we hunt with a newby that we are all in agreement about sharing of the meat. That way there are no surprises or hurt feelings and everyone has a good time.

Just curious to hear how the rest of you big game hunters and huntresses address this or don't before you head out. Have you had some hurt feelings or folks you won't hunt with anymore or both? What are your codes of the west ?

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt