Summer Fun

Hello to one and all. I have been away from the blogoshere although not far from home. Have been enjoying a much needed hiatus from writing this summer and focusing more on outdoor adventures. I have been putting in my share of cycling road miles averaging about 125 miles per week, give or take a few. Also have been doing various summer odd jobs to help keep the frig full. Other than that I am still trying to get my house sold which is like trying to sell sand to the sandman.

Earlier this summer my friend Larry and I successfully completed our Master Hunter certification for Oregon and have since been spending time woodcutting for ourselves and his clients. Just about anything having to do with wood I enjoy and it's especially fun working with him. He spent many years up in Alaska as a Coast Guard helicopter pilot on Kodiak Island and other locations. He tells a good hunting story and I relish the opportunity to be his audience.

Hunting season for me may start with Sage Grouse in September, provided I draw a tag. My friend Dan, his son and I put in together so we'll see. Jet is still pretty much retired and will not go with us for this hunt due to the typically scorching heat. Just not worth taking the chance with her health and ageing hips. She will however go with me for some evening September Dove hunts. Those I am more able to keep a close eye on her activity and physical abilities should she have problems.

I did draw a rifle buck tag for early October but no tag for Elk, which leaves me hunting the general rifle season come mid November. I did consider archery which starts September 1 but opted to keep cycling for that month. Just having to much fun riding this summer to call it quits so early. It is a short cycling season here in the high desert anyhow, and riding indoors is not nearly as enjoyable to maintain my fitness and motivation. Waterfowl season also starts in October and I hope to have a buck hanging at my house or in the freezer by the time I reach for my steel shot and decoys.

Not much else going on right now just getting ready and staying busy as best I can. I will be posting more often come next month and the start of hunting season. Thanks for sticking around and I hope you all are enjoying a wonderful summer.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Jet's Best Years

It is with a somewhat heavy heart that I write this post. It is about my hunting companion of the four legged variety. It seems that recently when we were out waterfowl hunting that she informed me that she's had enough and her heart just isn't in it anymore. Needless to say I was deeply saddened by her news. The way in which this came about I will share with you now.

We were at Lowlands in S.Oregon's Klamath Basin to be specific. We had hunted ducks the day prior and mostly doing so by walking the many dikes and jump shooting the ditches. In the morning we waited til we had fair light and then went out spending about 3 to 4 hours walking and getting a few ducks. The retrieves Jet made were not difficult, at least not in the typical manner of waterfowling. They were straight forward, easily marked and without heavy cover or long swims required. She was working at her usual pace of "I'll get there when I get there and just hold your horses," all of which I fully understand and have come to respect of her. We had 4 ducks in my vest and headed to the cabin around 11'ish. Time to get a cup of coffee and take a break for both of us. I cleaned the birds and had brunch then we went back out for a short afternoon hunt. With very few birds in the area, all we got was 1 hen N. Shoveller. We called it a day and turned in for the night. Jet was tired and ready for her dinner, followed by her 8 p.m. scooby snack which is the norm and a good nights sleep. Well, and maybe a belly rub or two if I was so inclined. I was all to happy to accommodate as it also gives me a chance to giver her a good looking over for burs or any problems she might be having.

We got up early the next morning and I coffee'ed up followed by a bowl of cereal then out we went. We walked the back ditch first and nothing happening there. We then went to the S. side towards the Klamath Rv. and just as we started down the main road to the river, a Pheasant flushed from beneath a wild rose bush and I dropped it shooting through the bush. Now I knew why Jet was whining while I got ready cause she could smell that the Pheasant was close by. I marked her and sent her on her way for what I figured to be a slam dunk retrieve. Boy was I ever wrong. Firstly she is losing her hearing and second, she didn't follow my mark. My mistake there. So as she went across the shallow water filled ditch and came to the top of the dike she then ran up and down the dike and didn't see the Pheasant splashing in the water only 30 feet further out. There was very little cover on the dike and she had her own agenda which was scenting where the Pheasant had come from. Not so uncommon. As I was walking back to get some rocks to throw in the water to get her attention she winded the Pheasant and was on her way. I shortly heard her whining after she had been searching for the bird amidst the long stem bulrush. I saw her standing belly deep, stationary as a stone with the Pheasant a foot away from her. She had a look of "I'm not liking this and will you please come help me" on her face. I was dumbfounded and tried my best to encourage her to help herself but to no avail. She wasn't really stuck in the bulrush as much as I think she was cold and tired. Her expression was very clear that she wasn't having fun. I was not wearing waders or hip boots so I succumbed to the knee deep water to go help and upon reaching her, I patted her pointy little head and said "come on, lets go sis" then picked up the Pheasant and headed for dry land. I gave her a gentle tug at the top of her shoulders to get her moving and that was all she needed. I guess sometimes we all need a little help and I was glad to oblige her.

I was challenged to manage my emotions and not offend her. Frustration, disappointment and sadness were filling my body. She sat at my side loyal, tired and a bit sad herself I feel. Sad that she wasn't able to do what I asked. Labs are overachievers when it comes to wanting to please their owners. I saw her disappointment in volumes in every wet hair on her body. I loved her up and choked back the tears and decided to make a hunt out of the morning anyhow. I was soaked up to my knees and it didn't matter. What did matter, was giving Jet an enjoyable positive experience before we called it a day. After all we have been a team for many years and I wasn't going to let down my end of the deal. We walked the main river dike and eventually made our way back to the truck. She was pooped and laid down immediately. I was hoping to get an opportunity to let her make a retrieve so we could get her confidence up. It just wasn't meant to be so we headed to the cabin to dry out and got ready to head home.

Every dog is an individual with their own likes, dislikes and tolerances for discomfort. She was a slow starter yet has had many excellent years and still has a few more in her. She will be 10 in March and even though my previous 2 Labradors worked in their 13 th. year not every dog has the same drive, desire or genetics to do so. I have much respect for her and look forward to some easier hunts with her.

The road home was a longer drive than usual. I thought long and hard about what changes I'll make so Jet and I can continue to hunt together. She will get the easy days with mild weather and I'll be thankful for whatever she is willing to do. What's most important to me is that she has fun being in the field. I am beginning my search for a new family member come next spring. With any luck I'd like to find a started dog, preferably a female Yellow Labrador Retriever. Certainly not the high octane American Labrador Field Trial blood lines but rather the English Labrador field hunting lines. Will keep you informed as the search progresses. If anyone has some good leads or positive experiences from a kennel or breeder, I am happy for the recommendations and referrals. Til then we'll keep it simple and fun for Jet and myself.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Wet , Wet , Wet

Along with that Mallard that had the large tumor, I also harvested some fine waterfowl to bring home last week. It was a very wet trip from the beginning. I awoke to the first snow of the year, ugh. There was about 3 to 4 inches on the ground and I figured time to go hunting.

Jet and I arrived at Lowlands early afternoon and unloaded our gear then started a short afternoon hunt. Walked ditches jump shooting and being selective for Drake Mallards primarily. Eventually we made our way to the banks of the Klamath River and had "Tumor Mallard" plus 2 drake Mallards in my game bag. The river was chucked full of Buffleheads, and as much as I enjoy eating them I decided to leave them be.

We were also trying to kick up a Pheasant or two. The club plants 100 male Pheasants a year, well at least most years. So far we had zero Pheasants, let alone not even hearing a single cackle. Ummm, I start to think that maybe the coyotes and raptures got the better of them. Yet that many in only a couple weeks, surely there had to be a few "smart" ones still around. As we near the Willows and head in to the thick cover Jet begins to get a little birdy. I am optimistic and yet we never found a single Pheasant. Those are Jets favorite and she gets more than a bit "glazed" over when Pheasants are in the area. That is her drug of choice for sure. She goes from being this gentle, calm and mild mannered dog into a type A, "don't hear a word your saying" dog on a mission that will yield, only after she flushes that stinky old Pheasant. She is really something and we usually are both grinning ear to ear. Although on this day it was not to be. We wandered back to the cabin with 4 ducks to clean.

The next day it was overcast in the morning, and we headed to the back ditch. We did well, shooting 3 drake Mallards , 1 beautiful mature drake Gadwall and 1 N. Shoveller. The clouds were starting to let loose and the rain was coming down. Got back to the cabin and ate breakfast then cleaned birds. By this time it was snowing hard, big wet flakes that were sticking. I was not happy about that. It was the type of conditions that no matter how good of rain gear you have, you're gonna get wet. If not due to the fact that your gear doesn't breathe well, or wet from the outside in. Take your pick cause that's just the conditions. So we went back out early afternoon for a short walk and got 2 G.W.Teal and 1 N. Shoveller. We were both drenched and happy to get back to our little cabin. That was it for the day, we had our limit. I ate the Teal for dinner and they were delicious. There have been 2 small flocks of Swans flying back and forth across the river, what a sight to see. Not legal in Oregon, yet in Texas they are.

The snow turned to rain late that night and as morning broke the skies dried up for a short time. We hunted the same area as the day before and the results were similar. Shot 3 drake Mallards, 1 hen Mallard and 1 N. Shoveller. It was a short hunt, as I needed to get things cleaned up and head back home. Jet did really well. Her 8 and a half years of experience shined through. Her ability to mark fallen birds and deliver to hand was incredible. She is not as quick as she was, yet neither am I.

Our first hunt of the season was in the books and all went well. Both dog and huntress returned home safe and sound, if only a tad bit sore. My shooting was better than anticipated as was Jet's field work too. By the time we got home the first snow of the year had all but melted and the sun was beginning to peak through the grey skies.

I think it's time to head out again, really! I can hear the marsh calling my name. Catch you in a few days.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Sneakin' On Mallards

When it comes to dressing the part for social settings, I am less than inspired. That's like a duck out of water...ask my friends and they'll concur. I much prefer being in the marsh with face camo paint, wearing chest highs, 3 layers under them, slogging in semi frozen muck, mud and ice. All for a stealthy belly crawl in hopes of knocking down a pair of late season plump Mallards.

By the time I get to my destination I have sweat buckets and am now thoroughly soaked. Also known as a "science experiment" wearing chest high neoprene's. I pause for a few minutes to make sure I am where I need to be and also to catch my breath. My Lab is hyper alert and ready to crest the top of the dike.....and have a personal hunt of her own. It has taken us an hour and thirty five minutes in all to get here. We can hear the Mallards making their feeding sounds, moans, purrs and little grunts. It gets me deep down in my belly with excitement and anticipation. I am in awe when I get to be this close and they have no idea I'm there. I savour the moments a bit longer than when I was in my youth. Realizing just how special being right where I am, in this exact moment in time. Unless you've been there it is not easy to explain. It's the moments that feed your soul and tell you that this is where you're most at home...where you belong.

Guess I overdressed a bit, didn't need that fleece vest after all. The sky is a cold flat gray with intermittent snow showers. I have 2 ducks in my vest from an earlier sneak and I am starting to think about brunch and a hot cup of coffee. Not to mention getting out of these waders... a bit clammy, yes indeed! I peek over the top of the dike one last time to make sure we are in the right place and the ducks haven't moved to far in either direction. Yep, we're good. O.K. READY, my adrenaline begins to spurt and my pupils dilate as Jet leads us over the top of the dike. There is a split second when the ducks are motionless, realizing they've just been had and yes, I am a predator. All hell breaks loose as there are not just a few ducks, but about twenty or so. Screaming "quacks" and feathers flying and water frothing all give way to a double on Drake Mallards.The silence has been broken. Jet plunges in and retrieves both birds still wanting to retrieve more, looking at me for directions. The ducks circle and I reload. We hunker down in the tall grass on the side of the dike that isn't snow covered in hopes of getting a passing shot or two. Jets coat begins to freeze after swimming in the ditch. She is still twitching with adrenaline and fully charged up, her eyes focused on the small flock.

After a few minutes we see the last of those ducks leave our area, so we begin the long walk back to our rig. I give her another hug and tell her what a great dog she is and she starts her happy dog tail tuck and runs circles around me. She's happy too. I can feel the warmth of those drake Mallards against my back through my hunting vest and waders. I re-adjust my vest on my shoulders as the weight of it tugs backwards. Walking back to the rig I replay the sneak in my head and feel like "Charlie Brown" (female version) after pitchin' a no hitter! The fact that we got 2 ducks is wonderful, although what strikes me more is having gotten that close to listen to them without them knowing it. Very cool indeed. I forgot about how wet and clammy I was in these waders. Ah, its all coming back to me now...a little squish between the toes. The snow is starting to come down hard out of the north and my tracks out are almost covered completely. The wind begins to pick up and I lower & tilt my head leeward, so as to catch the snow on the brim of my hat and protect my eyes. The temp is dropping and our timing was good. Don't know just how big this storm is....could be a doozy! Be good to get my birds cleaned, have a bite to eat and hunker in for a while. Jet is ready for a hot meal too, and she'll be asleep before the water boils for my coffee. We'll dry out and see what tomorrow brings.....just hope things don't freeze up to much, need a little open water. What a fun women's hunt, all be it yours truly and her best friend Jet. I think women hunters can be just as stealthy as than their male counterparts, if not even more so.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Two To Tango

Over the years I have spent plenty of time hunting solo with my dog. Those are special days afield. The pace is typically a notch slower and my focus is more on her and the present moment and taking it all in. There is really nothing quite like watching your children grow and learn, be it 2 legged or 4. This past waterfowl season Jet came into her own and I am so proud of her. She has taught me more than my other two Labs I've raised and hunted with. Perhaps a bit of maturation process on my part too. There are some benefits to A-G-E. She taught me to see things from her perspective, that is about 18" off the ground. Life does look different from down there. For the first 2 full seasons I was hunter and retriever. Boy I sweated buckets in those neoprene chest highs in October, crossing muddy ditches while she sat on the bank and cheered me on.....or so I thought. Then we continued our travels and every now and then I'd dump a duck out of my vest 'cause I knew we'd be coming back this way. So when we did return I'd get her excited and tell her to "find the bird" and gesture with my hand in the general direction. I was able to see the duck before I sent her so I knew it wasn't a "wild goose chase" yet. After much encouragement she'd find the duck and bring it to me. I would love her up and make a big deal out of it, just to build her confidence. She was pleased with herself as well, running in those puppy circles with such joy. Brought smiles to both our faces. This year was her 6th. in the field and it was special. Her favorite are Pheasants I think because they have so much scent. Anyhow when she is foot tracking them her tail goes left-right-left-right etc and when she is on the hot scent she starts helicoptering her tail. That's my cue to get ready 'cause all hell is gonna break loose any second and I best not let her down. You all know what that look is ...right?

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Dog Beds and 40 Winks

This past Christmas offered an opportunity that I just had to capitalize on. That being one of breaking in my niece to my dog Jet. More so the hairy facts of cohabiting with your 4 legged best friend. Jet was enjoying the visit from my brother and his family during the holidays, especially with small children whose hands are at her mouth height. She had whatever we ate plus her usual fare. As you can see from the photo she was very careful and yielded her space without hesitation. No doubt fine etiquette for this woman's best friend.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt