Reconnaissance and Clean Up

Headed to the Klamath Basin today to do a little prep work before all the hunting seasons begin. My friend Dan and I are looking forward to a little marsh time. I haven't been back to Lowlands since my run in with that Beaver hole late Jan. that put an early end to late season goose hunting. I am pert near 100 % and will have my eyes peeled for Mr.Beaver. We aren't done yet!

Otherwise Dan and I will be clearing Knapweed from the hill area where the cabin is, replace outdoor lighting, some general cleaning and garbage removal. Lest I not forget that we are taking our shotguns and some clay targets to intersperse amongst the work detail. Dan is an amazing shot and just a lot of fun to be with. We are looking forward to see what the waterfowl numbers are and with some luck perhaps even see Sandhill Cranes.

The recon is all about Deer, specifically bucks. Last year I shot a beautiful 4 year old tall forked horn. He was running with a 4 x 5 who obviously was the wiser and knew just where to position himself relative to the forked horn. So I am hoping that the big fellow made it through last years hunting seasons, winter and is back on our property enjoying the good life. We will soon find out.

The weather here in central Oregon has begun to have a sense of Fall to it. Temperatures have dropped and there has been a nip in the air. This change will be short lived however as by next week we'll be back in the low 90's. With Dove season just around the corner (Sept.1) we usually have a couple days of rain just prior to the opening, at which time a large majority of the Doves head south. Leaving us with a fraction of the summer's population. Then Indian summer begins and so will freezing overnight temperatures. I am hoping for at least that to help spur the Elk into rutting for my Sept. bow hunt. I continue to practice shooting my bow and am still happy with my set up. All my pins have been readjusted for my broadheads and all systems are go.

Will let you know what we see at Lowlands from this weekends reconnaissance. Til then, keep practicing and shoot straight. Have a great weekend everybody.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Spring Bear Hunt 2006 Pt. 1

I wrote about this hunt shortly after it concluded, and it is from that which I will share it with you all. So here is how it all unfolded.

The waterfowl season was drawing to an end, which was a blessing considering how dismal it had been. My hunting partner John asked if we were going to put in for Spring Black Bear tags? My reply was that "I don't know" and his reply "why not"? to which I replied, "just never gave it much thought". He said, "well I think we ought to put in as a party". Well then so we did and there were four of us in that party. So we did some homework figuring which unit we wanted and then applied for the controlled hunt in the N.Cascades unit. This was early February and the application deadline was only a day away with the draw being on the 20th. of the month. Soon thereafter we got our draw results in the mail and we were successful and now had tags. The opening date was April 1 and there was considerable snow in the mountains where we wanted to hunt. We held off for awhile until we were just about out of time all together.

John designated the weekend of June 3 and 4 for our hunt. As it turned out John was busy with work and his son Joe had other plans which left it up to Sam and I. We decided to follow through and go on our hunt. I talked with my friend Larry who gave me some areas to check and told me what to look for as far as sign and habitat. He was our resident expert since he had hunted bears successfully a year prior. I was all ears and taking notes as best I could. Then I picked up a couple maps for Sam and I to look over and we set a departure time for o dark hundred the next morning. We had the usual assortment of gear and food. Figured to camp out and hunt both days if needed, and I figured we'd do just that as I doubted we'd get a bear our first day out.

We drove separate rigs to our hunting area and as daylight broke it was another overcast gray day. We had periods of sun breaks interspersed with light rain and drizzle. The temps were in the mid 40's to low 50's and quite humid. Sometimes the clouds covered the mountains making it difficult for glassing the edges of the clear cuts and meadows. The wild flowers were blooming and the foliage was becoming denser every day with the new growth. We were driving up near snowline stopping and glassing when we came across areas that looked promising. Eventually we figured out just where Larry was telling us to go. We could see the steep hillside from across the draw. It was an old clear cut that had been burned which had pockets of brush and old snags still towering. We drove until we ran out of road and then we grabbed our packs, rifles, bins and set out on foot.

We found a brush covered trail and began our ascent up the steep hillside. From below we saw an enormous Elk in the meadow when we were glassing from across the draw. We watched the elk traverse the steep slope and top out then head down the other side. That was the last we saw of it. We suspected it was a bull just from its size. As we moved our way uphill following the switchbacks we were a bit soaked from the waist down from the vegetation and looked forward to getting up to the ridge line. The trail we followed merged into a major trail and we were now out of the wet brush. We stopped for a breather and decided to traverse our way to the top and see what it looked like on the other side. When we got to the top we didn't see much on the other side in the way of Bear habitat. Quite a lot of snow, rocks and a small steep of water. We decided to drop back down to the main trail and sit awhile and glass. On our way down we saw a wooden sign and wandered over to it. It had mileage to Oakridge, Crescent, Eugene and a few other places. I'll be darned if we weren't on the Pacific Crest Trail. WOW, we found a comfortable log and sat awhile and shot the breeze. We had company in the way of a pair of Three Toed Black Backed Woodpeckers flying near us in the snags. I have remembered these from a hangman's game I played with my brother when I was quite young. I didn't believe their was such a bird, just sounded a bit much. Well, yes in fact they are real and I have not forgotten them since. Also we were serenaded by the drumming of Grouse. One was close by and the other was around the headland from us and sounded as a distant echo.

We hiked for a couple hours before we sat and started glassing some more. The rain had all but subsided and it had turned into a lovely afternoon. We had a snack and were conversing about this and that, the usual hunting drivel. We had a great place to sit and glass overlooking a large grassy hillside and beyond to the snow capped Cascade mountains. I wondered aloud if there were any bears in the area since we hadn't seen any sign. Sam replied as his usual optimistic self saying " at any time a big'ol bear can just step right out". Glancing at me with a sparkle in his eye and a mischievous grin. Mmmmm o.k. I replied and re situated myself on the log with a twinge of "what if" running through my veins and disappearing just as fast. It was almost 4 in the afternoon and as I glanced downhill on the green grassy hillside I was shocked to see a huge Black Bear moving from right to left. I said to Sam "there's a bear, a really big bear"! He said "Oh my god that's the biggest bear I've ever seen, shoot it, shoot it"! I said "I have to wait for it to clear those snags", Sam was looking at it through his scope too backing me up if needed. At this point everything was in slow motion and nothing else in the world existed. I steadied my shooting sticks took careful aim and squeezed off a round. I heard nothing but saw everything through my scope and was in even more disbelief when he dropped in his tracks like a ton of bricks!

We looked at each other and words fell short of our emotions and I said we're gonna sit here 10 minutes before we start heading down. I wanted to make sure the bear was down for good. As we sat there we were both amazed at what just happened. The bear was able to raise his front left foot a little and turn his big brown nose skyward, but that was all. He was definitely down. We gathered our gear and Sam led with his Ruger Redhawk 41 cal. on point and I followed. We crept slowly downhill, ever cautious of our quarry and the few times he did raise his paw we both froze like statues! Then looked at each other and laughed at ourselves, yea quite the hunters we are. Yet this was a serious matter until we knew the bear was dead we remained quite alert and vigil to our well being. I told Sam that while looking through my scope, I couldn't see see daylight between the bears belly and the grass. He was so big and getting even bigger with each step we took. As we got to within 10 yards Sam asked me where did I want him to aim the kill shot? I said anywhere but the head. . . try for the heart if you can. This was the first time that either of us had been in this situation. Sam fired 2 shots and the bear died quickly. I saw the life leave his brown eyes. That was hard to watch for sure.

Now the work begins, and boy was that ever a job! I'll save that for Pt. 2

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

Bachelor Bucks

It seems that the older I get, the faster times slips by. I have been busy trying to get work completed before hunting season is in full swing, as well as doing some scouting and the rest of life's day to day chores. On a recent trip I was able to find this small group of bachelor bucks who weren't to concerned about my presence. This is near a rural Eastern Oregon town of which needs to remain anonymous until after the season is over, or I have harvested one of these fine fellows. They are what is termed a "bench leg" deer. That being a mix of Mule Deer and Black tail because they cross over in to each others habitat zones, and inter breed. The ears are a bit shorter than your typical Mule Deer and the forehead considerably darker in some. Yet they have fairly heavy bodies and the wits of both, making them a challenge for sure. These boys have been hanging out for the past month in the same area, and I sure hope they continue to do so into the first weekend of October when the season opens. Just thinking about them everyday makes me a bit nervous and excited. Don't know if I'll find them again or if they'll give me the slip and be gone, gone, gone. It is called hunting for a reason and regardless of the outcome, I will have a good time just being out there. The chase is what really gets me excited, trying to out wit the wily critters on their own turf. So often I am an awkward visitor at best and as those who have gone before me say, "I would rather be lucky than good any day" I am in full agreement.

There are still some things I need to get done before the season opens, like making sure my rifle and I are still on target and sighted in like we were when I put it away last winter. I shoot a Remington 7 mm Mag. and absolutely love it. It came with a Sims Limbsaver recoil pad and the recoil is very mild. I have a Leupold 3 x 9 by 40 VX 2 scope and so far it has treated me very well. I use shooting stix and sight in using them to make things as realistic as I can. I also check it on a bench and do a few off hand shots as well, just to be as comfortable as I can be. There is no substitute for shooting, the more you do it the better you'll be. Then again, when facing your moment of truth be it whatever season it is, nothing can get you prepared for the excitement of seeing that animal in your cross hairs. So stay calm, keep breathing and act like it is practice until after you've squeezed the trigger. Then get excited and twitchy.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Sage Grouse Hunt

It was a early wake up call this past Saturday morning, in hopes of catching up with a couple Sage Grouse. I sprang from my slumber just a little before 4 a.m. and proceeded to get some coffee infused asap! Jet gave me one of those looks that said, "hey do you mind, some of us are still trying to sleep"? I gave her a belly rub and told her we're goin' hunting today! Let's go girl. And with that said, she too sprang to her feet. I threw some kibble in her bowl and some cereal in mine. Then we loaded the truck and headed for Fredrick's Butte and an old lake bed a few miles E. of there. We were on the road by 4:30 a.m. and arrived at our destination just a smidge past 6 a.m.

There were a couple rigs already there and I think they were actually bow hunters deer hunting. As the sun began to brighten the eastern horizon I was getting my vest on and grabbing some water for us. It wasn't more than 200 yards from the truck when the first pair of Sage Grouse flushed at about 80 yards away. Geeze, much to far for a shot. Wow, I was a bit concerned that we may not get many shots if the birds are this wary. Jet was a long ways away from them too. We walked for about an hour before the next Grouse flushed and I fired a shot and knowing as I squeezed the trigger, it was gonna be a reach at best. Yep, nothing dropped. No feathers, bird or anything other than my wad.

It is quite difficult trying to see where these birds land. They get up just high enough to clear the tops of the sagebrush and have very rapid wing beats followed by gliding with set wings. They blend in very well to their habitat and unless you can get your binoculars on'em chances are you won't see where they land. It will be in the general vicinity that you go to in hopes of flushing them again. We took a water break back at the truck for about 15 minutes, then got going for round 2. We never did flush anymore Sage Grouse yet we saw found several areas where they had been recently. They leave a very distinctive "cheeto" look alike dropping. Right down to the color and size. Jet got excited and worked her little heart out trying to find them, she just knew they're had to be one "not so smart" bird left behind. After 4 plus hours of walking and hunting ,Jjet and I were fairly tired. We headed for the truck and called it a day. The sun was getting high in the sky and Jet was wore out. We drank some water then headed for home.

We had a good time and I didn't want to get either of us anymore sore or tired than we already were. Jet slept for the drive home and continued to do so for the following day, before she actually got her spring back in her step. Took me a few days to get over my soreness as well. The season is short and I doubt I will have the time to give it another try. Yet I will definately put in for tags again next year, in hopes of closing the distance.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Getting Closer . . .

With each passing day I can smell Fall is on its way. Oh, and we all know what that means! The dog days of Summer are now in their final countdown to the Fall hunting season. I was fortunate in drawing my Buck and Doe tags, although will hunt the general Bull Elk rifle season because of not drawing that tag. Oh well, just more points for next year increasing my odds of being drawn.

The ODFW has not yet decided if there will be a Sage Grouse season or not. That will be determined next week with the hunt beginning Sept. 6 thru 14 and most likely, the limit of 2 birds per person for the entire hunt. It is a controlled hunt with a limited amount of tags issued. I put in last year and drew tags for the Wagontire area.

Jet and I had a blast and hope we get to do it again this year. It was our first time last year and you should've seen my girl once she figured out what it was we were going after. Even though it was a warm morning with no precipitation for weeks prior and cruising the dusty sage brush flats, after she got a whiff and put 2 and 2 together she was all over'em. They are a challenging bird to hunt. Being ground dwellers they have incredible survival instincts. The birds we flushed got up a long ways away and high enough to just clear the tops of the sage brush. All in stealth mode too, not even a peep. Occasionally one might hear their wing beats from the initial jump into the air. Otherwise, keep your eyes peeled and go in silence. Somehow I had no way of conveying this "stealth" mode to Jet regarding her heavy breathing and increased heart rate. So I just had to do my best to keep up and be ready cause she was doin' her thing! In about 3 hours we had our 2 bird season limit. Jet flushed and was grinning from ear to ear with both retrieves. The shots were long, about 45 yards and I was thankful to be shooting lead. Both clean kills and young birds. I crock potted them and they were delicious. Often folks say to pluck the bird etc. and add some veggies, spices and after cooking, then throw away the birds and eat the rest. Actually mine were good crocked with some other stuff. I will post the recipe this month.

So what are you getting ready to hunt first this season? Perhaps bow season is underway and or LOP (land owner preference) for big game. Or your like me and doing some upland, then mix in a little big game eventually ending up waterfowling from late Oct. thru Jan. 2009. For those that has already gotten a little bloody, congratulations and I can hardly wait! Be safe out there and know your target.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Waterfowl Blinds

These photos are from a very old book titled The Duck Hunter's Bible by Erwin A. Bauer. Some of these old photos are just priceless. Does this fellow below in the barrel remind you of anyone in particular? Elmer Fudd comes to my mind.
Watch that muzzle!




I like these gentlemen with the painted landscape scene. Especially their little peep hole, not that they have a roof overhead. . .







The above photo (R.) is that of a "piano" blind. So named because of its sloping top on the back side. I have built these blinds and have had many a good shoot in them. They are very comfortable. Bench seats and corner shelves for your coffee and shells.





These 2 fellows, I just don't know about. I am sure they had some great stories to tell. Gives a whole new meaning to pass shooting, and what about retrieving those ducks?
I think Kristine at Gun Safety Innovations might have a thought or two about these fellows.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Braggin' Rights. . . part 3

Continuing with some more hunting stories about my friend Dave Keiser and his quest for a Grand Slam on North American Sheep.

The year was 1985 and the state Nevada. He put in for a Desert Sheep tag, of which there is only 1 out of state tag per year and 3 in state tags. As luck would have it, Dave got his tag on the first try. He was hunting in an area dedicated to managing sheep called Desert National Wildlife Range. Sparse vegetation and limited water availability, which meant having to pack in your own potable water. The sheep got much of their water needs met by eating cactus, grass and what little brush was available.

On the third day of the hunt he and hunting partner went to the S. end of their unit and set up a modest camp near the mountains. The next morning on their way uphill to a glassing area they jumped a large Ram. Not much time for talking so Dave fired a shot off hand and the Sheep didn't go far. Dave was only able to see one side of the Rams horns and knowing it was a legal Ram, yet didn't see the busted horn on the other side. All in all a great animal and nothing to feel bad about.

Well now, his next quest is the Stone Sheep and hunting an area which Jack O'Connor made famous with a story titled "A Day In Ram Heaven". This was not going to be an inexpensive hunt considering you had to have a guide. The guides in fact were the ones who controlled the permits and made the final decision, plus he had to get himself up to British Columbia.

The year was 1987, Dave and his wife had 5 kids at home and were a bit strapped for cash. He had a chat with his wife and she agreed to cash in their life insurance policy to fund the trip. They both drove up to B.C. together then she wished him luck and flew home. He then flew 80 miles into base camp out of Fort Nelson B.C. and was at the foot of the Canadian Rockies. Here the guide had his main headquarters set up next to a lake, with Moose feeding and creeks choked full of Artic Grayling. He ate more than his share of Grayling on this trip.

He had quite the trip this time. His guides were 2 American Indians, one young and one very experienced. He waited and watched as his guides loaded the pack horses and figured he didn't need to keep to close an eye on them, as they must know what to bring and how to properly pack. So with his 2 guides they headed up the Muskwa River drainage going cross country with 4 packed horses. On the way one of the horses fell and ended up dieing from its injuries. Eventually they got to their base camp and set up for the next days hunt. The next morning Dave was without coffee as the guides drank only tea. He wasn't very impressed with their packing job now, and felt maybe he'd been better off to have kept a closer eye on them when they were packing. Anyhow tea it was, and after a quick breakfast the older guide took off and Dave followed. On foot they crossed a creek and began heading up a long series of benches and waterfalls. Never seeing any Sheep this day, although they saw many Caribou as they got into a very large basin. So back to camp they went. The next day they rode up to a good glassing spot in a different basin from the previous day. As they began to eat their lunches, they were glassing the slopes across from them and saw it was full of Sheep. In total 25 Rams they sighted with their spotting scope. No time to waste they got moving downhill, crossed a creek and large ravine and started uphill. It took hours to get above the Rams and then Dave had to wait for his Ram to stand up. Finally he stood. . . Boom! Missed, just over his back. From 400 yards above the Ram he had no idea where the shot came from and was confused. Dave chambered another round into his pre '64 270 cal. and shooting off hand this time, he connected. The big Ram rolled and rolled to the bottom of the canyon breaking off about 3" of horn on the left side. The curl measured 40 1/8 Long. He didn't get a width measurement, although from the photo it is quite wide!

The Ram was beautiful and what lie ahead was a very enjoyable evening at camp followed by riding out the next day. Completing his North American Sheep Grand Slam.

The photo is of his guide with his Stone Sheep.

Well, I hope you are beginning to understand why I wanted to brag a bit about Dave. He is an exceptional individual, a great story teller and just a pleasure to be with. I might have one more tails to tell of a trip he and I took many years ago.

Field Journal: Lowlands Group

Here's a group photo with some of my friends after a morning "diver" hunt on the Klamath River in Southern Oregon. Next comes processing birds while a couple others get brunch underway. Waterfowl hunting can be fast and furious in the Klamath basin in Southern Oregon. Producing wonderful table fare and tired dogs as well as tired hunters.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Hunting In Montana

During my training in woodworking in Missoula MT. my friend Jerry and I would take advantage of days out of school. We hunted the Bitterroot River in icey conditions floating it in his canoe and jumpshooting ducks and geese. Some folks looked at us as though we has a few extra holes in our head...and we just smiled back. Maybe we got some birds that day or not, it was more about just being out in those wild places and being a part of something bigger than us.



Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt