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

Here We Go 2009

First let me wish everyone a Happy New Year and for goodness sakes let's hope it's better than 2008! I think we can all use a little optimism and good fortune in this new year.

The weather has been more than challenging the past several weeks. O.K., yes I did ask for a big cold blast from the far north back around Thanksgiving. Uummm, and we got slammed for 3 plus weeks with snow and single digit temps leaving my hunting area looking like an ice rink. Ultimately ending my duck hunting after the first weekend the storm hit. Well, I will make adjustments in the future and be more specific as to what type of weather I am asking for. Although I hope those of you down in California are enjoying getting out after those birds. Otherwise I am looking forward to venturing back to my happy hunting grounds in the next week or so. We are now having a big thaw and all the snow is melting. Thank you, thank you, thank you. The roads are no longer a sheet of thick ice or black ice and travelling is once again looking favorable without risking life, limb and dog. My body is finally recovered from the several hours of snow removal I was doing on a daily basis. Which included the roof eaves as well. Nothing like working with your arms over your head to get a really good shoulder workout in, geeze-lu-eeze! I think in the coming week I will be able to drive to the cabin, at least try blazing a trail in the wet slushy granular snow. They got 2' down there and this warm front has been quite modest there. So it may be a bit longer for conditions to improve and become huntable once again. I still have some new ideas to try on late season geese, provided there are some in the area. I have contemplated buying snowshoes for late season hunting and yet I am still without. I think they would help make the trekking easier, carrying my bag of G and H goose shells plus my Avery ground blind tied to it along with my gun and all the other stuff I take for a day of goose hunting. Anyhow, no snowshoes yet. Perhaps I will just continue to approach it as I have for the past 30 years. That walking in 18" of snow(post holing) is a good work out. Well DUH! Only problem is that the older I get the less it takes to get a good work out. So I guess it'll just be a really good work out. It doesn't take me to long to get to where I set up and I have learned how to better pace myself. After all it's not a race and it is something to be savoured. Ah yes, just savour each step and breathe deeply. Boy, and I thought I had short legs, poor Jet gets high centered in the snow.

So, if any of you have tried snow shoes for winter hunting, please let me know how they worked for you. Also any suggestions as far as brands, sizes etc. will be appreciated. I do have a plastic sled of sorts, but it can be improved upon. Lastly, a snowmobile is just out of my price range. Looking forward to hearing any and all thoughts on carring gear and how you do it for goose hunting in a foot or two of snow. Thanks and Happy New Year!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Hunting and Journaling

As the 2008/09 waterfowl season begins to wind down here in Oregon, I know that my days afield are limited. Not just because the season will close soon, but more so due to the current weather and landscape conditions.

The Klamath basin has gotten hammered with close to 2' of snow and sub zero temps over the past several weeks. Fully covering the Klamath River with a solid sheet of thick ice and what little grain there was in the fields with snow. These are the most difficult conditions to draw in birds that I have experienced. Had I one or the other to work with, (open water or standing grain) it would not pose near the challenge or difficulty which is now before me. It's like inviting your friends to dinner and not having any food or water for them. Just a well dressed table with all the accouterments of what is to come, yet never does. It doesn't take but a few invites and you end up with only yourself at a well dressed table. Those late season Canada Geese are savvy and have seen a lot of decoy sets and heard a lot of calling, the good and bad of both. Not having neither food or water to offer leaves me with sparse optimism to lure in the big boys from the north. In stark contrast to the western valleys of Oregon and Northern California. Those remain prime hunting areas til the last day of the season. Offering both food and plenty of open water for lots of late season duck and goose hunting.

Let me digress for just a moment. I have shared many photos with you all that are from the pages of my "Waterfowl Gunning Log". While it's fun to look back with my hunting friends at the success we've had, the journal serves also as a guide for what has worked in tough conditions and those wild ideas that we just crossed off the list. Maintaining a journal is an excellent way to see trends in species, numbers of waterfowl, weather and habitat. Also I can recollect as to what type of decoys I used, how many and in what configuration. So now is the time I find myself turning the pages and reading my notes from years past, hoping to find some antidote for the current situation. So far no luck, yet I do have another idea to try and I'll let you know what the results are after my efforts. In the past I have used black plastic (visqueen) over ice to give the illusion of open water on the Klamath River. I have also tried a green tarp in the field over snow in hopes that Geese would consider stopping by. Both of those attempts were unsuccessful yet I continue to persevere.

Here in Oregon, specifically the Klamath Basin where I waterfowl hunt the duck portion of the season is typically fairly short. This is due to several factors primarily drought and water restrictions during the breeding season. This has had a big impact on production of local birds and thus lowering the number of ducks using the area which I hunt. It takes generations of ducks to insure historical migratory routes. Once that chain has been broken by drought, lack of food, or nesting habitat it takes many many years to regain that portion of the migration if ever. This is the situation I am faced with where I hunt. Though the number of ducks I've harvested this season may seem like a lot to some of you, considering the number of days and hours I have spent hunting it is an average take thus far. Noting that most of the ducks came in the early portion of the season and dropped off markedly when temps began dropping below freezing around Thanksgiving. I was fortunate to get a daily limit of 7 ducks, 3 times which equated to almost half of my season total. Those were local birds and I was tickled to have such success as it doesn't happen very often anymore. Lest I not mention the days this season when I came home empty handed, of which there were several. Many years ago in the mid 80's we had good late season duck populations in the Klamath Basin, yet due to loss of habitat, water and food we no longer have such. We have lost most of the historical migrating diver population. And as far I can see we are no where even close to regaining those numbers and I am not sure we ever will.

These are observations made from years of hunting and keeping a journal of such. I still continue to be optimistic that eventually the late season diver hunts will once again return. I remember having the choice of hunting divers or hunting geese on the same day. Which one would I start my morning with and just how much plucking did I want to do? Now days it is not an option. I put in as many duck days as I can early season after my big game hunting is over, because I know soon after freezing temps arrive the ducks will be gone. Then I am left with very challenging conditions for primarilary geese only. If this were a numbers game I lose before I even get started. For every 4 or 5 days I spend in my layout blind goose hunting, I am lucky if I get a single goose. Clearly it is not the reason I hunt and put forth all the effort I do. It is for that one brief moment in time when a window of opportunity swings my way. When those distant geese finally come and circle my spread of 4 dozen G and H shells that I've been laying in for 3 plus days and decide to drop in. Just for a few minutes I forget about all the work I've done and the cold leaves my body as adrenaline surges through my veins. Their calls echoing in my head as they stretch their landing gears reaching for the ground. My heart beats faster with every vocal they make as I wait for that perfect moment to shoulder my gun in an effort to knock one down. I try not to move and give myself away, yet I don't want to miss my chance either, it's a fine line. You've put your time in and paid your dues. Now is your opportunity, perhaps the last one of the year. Make it count, stay calm, you know what to do, you've waited this long just a minute more. The next pass they make you're ready and as they stretch their feet and necks looking to spot their landing, you unleash both barrels and 2 tumble to the ground. You reload just in case you have a cripple or maybe a third got hit and needs to be chased down. You clumsily extract yourself from your ground blind and run down any cripples. You are elated with your success and rightly so. A long sigh follows and the hours and days you've put in finally pay off.

I can remember back in the early 1970's when the town of Tulelake in northern California was the mecca of waterfowl hunting. This was the place to be, bar none. There were guides and outfitters, yet they didn't call themselves the latter. There were hotels, motels and restaurants that catered to the hunters and a duck processing plant as well. Those days are long gone and I am sad to say the once booming town of Tulelake is now, all but a ghost town. Their high school mascot is still the Honker, and they still make the best horseradish this side of the Missouri.

So, these are the present day circumstances of a well documented flyway. Perhaps I will not see the flocks of one thousand Pintails circling the fields of Lowlands as they did in the 70's and early 80's. Nor the large influx of migrating Diving ducks come December and January. The habitat and historical migratory routes have drastically changed over the course of my lifetime. Modest returns for the efforts put forth these days. No doubt raising the appreciation factor for ones successes. Hunting is about opportunity and to be a successful hunter/huntress, one has to put in the time. So as long as the season is open, then I know I at least have a chance of harvesting a goose. Perhaps if we get a big thaw, then I may even see the opportunity for a few more ducks. At the very least I will enjoy seeing whatever it is that unveils itself to me, along with learning something about my quarry and their environment.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Oh So Fast The Time Flies By !

I have a feeling that most of my duck hunting is over for this year. That big arctic blast and the continuing storms have turned my hunting area into an ice rink. No open water means no ducks. Yet there is still the opportunity for some late season goose hunting. Which is a much slower pace.

Typically my goose hunting days when in the field and not on the rivers edge, consists of a very long and quiet day laying on my backside in a ground blind in hopes that I will get an opportunity to shoot. Hence it is called a wild goose chase for obvious reasons. It also means very cold days in the snow and without Jet at my side to converse with. She stays in the cabin sleeping, and waiting for my return. Not understanding why she doesn't get to be with me. I do have a field blind for her and when it's not to cold I do bring her. She is not the most patient, especially when we aren't able get in a couple days of jump shooting ducks to kinda tire her out before hand.

When I left Lowlands (our hunting club)I wasn't able to drain the cabin pipes as they were frozen. I may have quite a mess when I return, not to mention a job too. The pipes are Pex and not pvc, so with any luck I may be alright. Think I'll pick up a roll of heat tape for when I head back down there. If nothing has broke, then maybe the heat tape will work its magic.

Otherwise it has been a good duck season with approximately 54 ducks shot and 51 recovered.
Mallard 16
Bufflehead 11
N. Shoveller 8
G.W. Teal 6
Common Goldeneye 4
Lesser Scaup 3
Widgeon 2
Gadwall 1
Snipe 11
Pheasant 2

In looking back over the season thus far, it is not difficult to see the distinction between local early season birds and the influx of migrating birds. Both in species and numbers harvested. From here on out hunting in the Klamath basin will be a process in patience and a reminder of why I pursue waterfowl. It certainly is not to limit out but more importantly to be a witness for another season's migration. As well as the great joy and pride it has given me when watching Jet do her thing. Be it retrieving crippled ducks, breaking a thin layer of river ice for Buffleheads or catching up to and flushing wiley Pheasants. She is now on "auto pilot" having learned so much in her 8 and a half years. I hope I get the opportunity to get her a few more birds this season. Then again if not that is just fine too. She seems to enjoy the indoor comforts a little more each year as we get further into winter's deep freeze. With a little break in the storms I hope to get back to Lowlands before the year is up. If not, it's always been a fine place to bring in the New Year. Maybe Santa will have sent some Honkers there for when Jet and I return.

Jet and I wish all of you a safe, warm and very Merry Christmas!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Cold Blast Freshens The Pot

I am of course referring to the fact that there were new birds in the Klamath Basin this past weekend. Finally got the big cold blast from the far north to push in some fresh waterfowl, as well as getting a lot of birds pushed off the Upper Klamath Lake.

Jet and I headed to Klamath early Friday morning ahead of the pending storm. We arrived in time to get settled in to the cabin and have a quick lunch. Then out to the field we went. We checked the back ditches just in case their might have been a fat mallard lazing about, but found nothing at all. So we headed to the Klamath River in search of divers and perhaps a pheasant if we were really lucky. The skies were overcast and the clouds were beginning to crowd the surrounding mountain tops. The wind was calm for the time being, yet forecast for 30 to 40 mph range come late afternoon. As we walked the river dike their were quite a few divers swimming in the river and even a few flying. This was a good sign. The weather was working its magic and getting things stirred up. Just be patient, only a matter of time before the show really starts.

So Jet was working a patch of Long Stem Bulrush and Tules next to the river. I was walking slowly keeping an eye on her, just as she was me too. I got to thinking after a few minutes that there must be a Pheasant in there. She is thoroughly dedicated to this pursuit. Bobbing and weaving and looking for an avenue when she runs into a wall of tules and continues her pursuit. I start to think that maybe that Pheasant got the better of us, and then suddenly out it jumps. Startling me and with fast wing beats and a flat body flying with a tail wind I raise my gun and swing on it squeezing off 2 shots and missing both times! Shot right over the top of it. Blankety Blankety Blankety Blank Uggh! I immediately watch with the keen vision of a hawks eye just where that fast elusive wing beater lands, and then get set for another go. I am on a mission now! It takes me about 5 minutes to finally call Jet out of the Tules so we can start after it again. I feel horrible not holding up my end of the deal after Jet works her little heart out. Anyway, I did mark it and we made a wide swing out in this field before cutting back in towards the dike. I kept Jet at heel til we both were in range and then I told her to "get'em up, find the birds" and she was off like a shot. We went into the taller cover then Jet double backed and I followed, just then the Pheasant flushed at the edge of the tall cover and this time I dropped it first shot! Finally I thought to myself and somewhat disgusted with my earlier attemps. It hit the ground running and so did Jet. I don't think I've ever seen her run so fast as she did after that bird. After about 25 yards it fell over stone dead and she brought it back and delivered to hand. I'll tell you all, I don't think I have ever seen Jet work so hard, be so focused and make such a beautiful retrieve as this one. I am so proud of her. Also relieved that I held up my end of the deal. I think this may well have been the same Pheasant that eluded me on my birthday weekend. I did the same thing, missed on both shots. So we'll call it a bit of redemption I suppose.

Anyhow, on we go after a big round of hugs and praise for a job well done to Jet. We walked the river dike and it wasn't more than 20 minutes later that the wind markedly picked up from the west.The shelf ice was beginning to stretch out from the river bank. I said to Jet that this is it, the storm has landed and is only going to get worse from here on out. We ended up jump shooting 3 Hen Buffs and a Drake Scaup from the river just as the first flakes of snow began falling. Time to head for the cabin and get the birds field dressed before dark. It wasn't much after I got those birds plucked that the wind was pushing 30 and let me tell ya' it was COLD! I gutted the birds and then rinsed them under the frost free hydrant and my hands were froze. It hurt like the dickens when they thawed. Oh boy, here we go, this is it. I asked for it and got it in spades. Hence the old saying goes; Careful what you wish for , cause you just might get it! Truer words were never spoken.




Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Being Present

I must admit that whenever I leave home to go hunting I do have expectations. I don't expect to get my daily limits when hunting birds, or filling my deer or elk tags. Nope, my expectations are about just being there and being present. A witness for whatever takes place during my brief time in the field.

When Larry and I were deer hunting last year, we had the pleasure of witnessing the migration of Greater White Fronted Geese. We were in the woods, and I remember hearing that distinctively high pitched "laugh" of Specs. I looked up and saw a flock in formation heading right for Thompson Reservoir. When I first heard them it seemed out of place, I knew what the sound was although my reference was from a different geography. I was thrilled to be able to hunt deer and be serenaded by Specs at the same time. They continued coming to the reservoir throughout the night too. It was wonderful listening to them as we drifted off to sleep. Very special.

When I was goose hunting last year I had a cool experience with Western Meadowlarks. I was heading back to the cabin with 1 Canada Goose in hand, through about a foot of snow with drifts being 2 to 3 feet deep. I saw a coyote trail following along the edge of the dike in the field. Ah, the path of least resistance I thought to myself. So I am walking slowly, pacing myself and enjoying just being there. Noticing the Northern Harrier's hunting the fields and dikes for voles and Red Tailed Hawks looking for like opportunities. The sun is breaking through the ground fog and it is starting to get warm. I shuffle my load and take a layer off, then continue.

Up ahead in the snow I see where the coyote tracks circled around several holes in the snow. I wonder to myself what they found if anything. As I get closer W. Meadowlarks start coming out of the holes in the snow. About a dozen of them, What? I have never seen such a sight in my life. Maybe I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing. . . I stop in my tracks to see for sure. Yea, I am seeing what I think I'm seeing. I get to within about 10 feet of the holes, and watch several more fly out of the snow. I can hear them scurrying about under the snow pack. Then silence as they realize I (a predator) am near. It has been cold for several days, in the teens and single digits. They have figured a way to stay warm by using the insulating qualities of the snow. Not to mention I bet there is an enormous abundance of insects for them to forage on in the grasses and weeds. I apologize for rousting them out unintentionally and go on my way. I couldn't help but notice their striking lemon yellow throat and belly, bordered by a black breast band. I enjoyed their song on that cold December morning. What a pleasant surprise that I will cherish for many years to come.

The next day I put out my G and H goose shells, plus my silhouettes and hunkered in my ground blind. Tossed a white vinyl mattress cover over my blind to try to blend in to the snow a bit better. I am hunting a large snow covered field with the tops of Triticale ( a cross between Rye and Wheat) visible above the snow. The weather was light overcast and warming into the mid twenties by noon. Pretty comfortable actually. After laying there for about 3 hours and listening to geese off in the distance, I was just about to get up and stretch my legs when I had a visitor drop in. To give you a brief outline of how I lay in a ground blind, just imagine a statue. I do my best to not move unless I absolutely have to. So, this visitor drops in unannounced and lands at my feet on my blind. It's a W. Meadowlark. Wow I say to myself, and become statue woman again. I heard his toenails on the vinyl as he landed. I keep my eyes on him and he starts hopping his way up towards my head. Just as lemon yellow as you can imagine. Wow, Wow, he stops on the mesh camo covering my face. I have to close one eye to be able to focus on him. O.K. now I am holding my breath and watching him up close and personal. Seeing his little toenails on the mesh as he checks out his surroundings. He does have a bit of a serious bill and I hope he doesn't start probing below the mesh. After about a minute he flies off, neither probing nor pooping just perching for a moment. I take a deep breath and say thank you for the visit. Then I was so thrilled I could hardly stand it. I had to give my friend John a call and tell him what just happened. He is one of those rare men that notices the small things and has an appreciation for such. Phew, alright now I can go relieve myself!

You know, I never fired a shot all day and this was one of my most memorable hunts ever!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

The Benefits Of Change

Let's see now, so your physiology seems to be changing a bit you say. You are nearing the age when your body doesn't seem to do anything on a regular basis as it has for the past 25 to 40 years. Your energy levels, sleep patterns, exercise regimen and concentration all seem a bit more challenging. You feel somewhat like a stranger in your own body.

Well there is some good news about "the change". At least when it comes to winter, hunting season and bears. Granted it will take a bit of adjusting initially, but lets look at the positive side of this life changing event. The benefits are numerous. To begin with think of the monthly savings, we can now put that towards fuel costs. Less time spent worrying about where the next bathroom stop is, and if you remembered to bring your travelling pocket arsenal with you. You will be as warm as a bug in a rug on a more regular basis. No longer will you have those cold feet in bed at night. Nope, instead you will become a mini Niagara Falls showering your partner with sweat. Oh so romantic. On the bright side, you will be toasty warm laying in your ground blind on the frozen tundra with the ambient air temp of minus 10 degrees F. You might even feel the need to shed a layer or two . . . or three after you've been there awhile. When you get back to camp your male comrades will comment on the sub zero temps and how cold they were, while you give them a shy smile and think to yourself "it is just right ". You become a master at layering your hunting apparel for those uncontrollable internal boiler room flare ups.

You are the first one up in the mornings (cause you no longer sleep) and have the fire stoked, coffee made and are ready to go. Your male comrades are baffled by this "new you". You once enjoyed coffee in bed and was the last to get up. They scratch their. . . well you know. So they need some time to adjust to not having to do the typical early morning chores. Trust me, they adapt very quickly. As for going on trips in bear country just think, you're no longer the BAIT. You are much safer and the playing field has definitely levelled a bit. Now is the time to go on that wild Alaskan adventure you've always dreamed about, where you're out numbered by Ursus middendorffi. Just as long as you are not the slowest one in camp, you have nothing to worry about.

In conclusion, you will enjoy a whole new perspective on everything. Your new found ability to adapt to your own internal global warming by proper layering of your clothes. Saving on your homes heating bills in the winter. Not being bungied to restrooms sporadically. Having more awake time to get done what you weren't able to the night before. More cash for gas and groceries (yea right). And finally, being able to go on that trip of a lifetime to Alaska.

Hell, life's never been better!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Review: LaCrosse AlpahaBurly Sport Insulated Boots

I recently spoke with a representative at LaCrosse Footwear, to find out what they'll be offering women hunters this Fall. I was surprised to learn that they are discontinuing a few styles. The good news is that the model I have they are going to continue providing. Specifically the AlphaBurly Sport Insulated 18" Realtree Hardwood HD 800 Gr. boot, style #200037 (soon to be style # 200044) as of July 2008. I bought mine last Fall and used them a lot throughout the waterfowl season. Firstly, they are offered in whole sizes only, so go up to the next whole size if you wear a half size. With that said, mine are awesome and show no signs of abuse after their first season afield. I replaced the factory foot bed with my own custom orthotics http://www.footform.com/ and the fit is wonderful. I found the Alpha Burly boots to be nimble, lightweight and not cumbersome. The sole has sufficient traction and support, so as not to be flimsy in any way what so ever. The fleece lining has held up to my abuse and shows no sign of wear. There is an adjustable gusset at top back with a cam buckle if you want them snugged up, for real nasty mud. They weigh in at 5.5 lbs. per pair. I used mine for late season goose hunting and my feet were toasty warm. Even late season goose hunting in my layout blind, & on snow for 4-5 hours at a time. My backside got a bit frosty, but not my feet. In conclusion for women hunters, I highly recommend the AlphaBurly boots. Especially if you're wanting something other than hip waders or your leather field boots for hunting. http://www.lacrossefootwear.com/

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Disclaimer: No financial gains were made for this review.

Late Season Goose Hunt

There is goose hunting and then, there is Goose Hunting! This falls in the latter of the two. The storms had passed and gave way to clear skies and sub zero temperatures. The Klamath River was froze solid and the geese were hungry. Fortunately for us, we had some standing Barley to draw them in. It was in the mid 1980's and gas was a $1.20 a gallon and a dozen eggs only .80 cents. We could get pretty far on both in those years. We hunted hard and put in our time in the pit blind. A 4' by 8' steel box buried below ground level, and yes it was cold! Hunting with my best friend we would smoke Swisher Sweets and tell each stories and watch the smoke billow around us. Playing tic-tac-toe with spent shells on the walls of the pit, waiting for the faintest sounds of Geese off in the distant. We answered them with authority and invited them to our little patch of snow. They answered with urgency and dropped in with reckless abandon...cupped, committed and you'd better be ready! We had geese landing arms distance from our pit blind. We were happier than pigs in ....well, you know. With perma grins and flushed with adrenaline we were warm once again. There was about a week during this particular season when we (about 6 of us) would take turns in the pit shooting limits of geese. Big late season northern Canada Geese. I shot so many I got tired of plucking them. Although when I lay my head on that down pillow (from those very birds), all that remains are the warm memories of good friends and simpler times. Oh, and how I miss both.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt