AKAMac
Member
The fantasy hunt thread got me thinking about H&H Hunters adventures he has shared with us. I'd like to hear some more. Here's mine.
Me and two friends spent two weeks hunting the Colockum area
of Eastern Washington in 1993. I lived in Tacoma then. Me and
Bob in motor home towing jeep, Brian driving his Toyota. Bob, from Ohio, and I had cow tags. Brian, from Oregon, had an any Elk tag.
We arrived on the opening day of upland game and ran into a Rancher that showed us a camp site with a spring. I took my dog and shotgun and drove to Wenatchee for ice. B&B stayed behind to level motor home, set camp and start the venison roast/stew cooking.
On the way back Molly and I spotted Chukar. We jump out of the jeep, she sets up on heel and off to work we go. 25 min later she retrieves the third bird. 200 yds from camp, Grouse! one shot one bird, one happy camper and dog. I pull into camp with questions about hearing a shot minutes ago.... "Help me unload the Jeep guys", the trip has started!
4 days till Elk season.
Next day, scouting the area for Elk we find that in two days there will be hunters in the wheat fields for three, one day hunts. Figuring the resident herd will scoot, we decided to find escape routes and likely shooting lanes as the fields are stepped from the Columbia river to the closed area North. We decide on a likely transition area and look for other species to hunt. Ducks and geese are on the menu.
3 days till Elk season.
Bob, Molly and I take the canoe. Brian and Bunky use his skiff. We're off to the Columbia river. During our scouting trip we had sighted a small sand bar
forming a cove in the river. Bob and my destination was there. Brian went his own direction with his Lab. We launch at O dark thirty and begin our slow trip south to the rhythm of paddles making wakes.
As far as landscape recognition goes, I'd like to think I'm pretty good. As far as reality is concerned, I'd like to blame my lucky streak on just that, I'm lucky.
Bob and I, mainly me, rejected sand bar after sand bar. O dark thirty had become O light soon and we had decoy zero in the water. "Look, that's the bank" I say with conviction. Canoe lands and the sound of wings whistling is interrupted only by the splash of decoys hitting the water. We set the decoys to the sound of Molly whining and birds flying. Bob braces the canoe behind a dead fall. The game is on!
Let me start with a description of our "five minute blind".It consisted of a tangle of wild grape hastily cut and pulled over us. Molly, dutiful as ever, wined and watched as winged retrieves flew by with nary a shot. When the second hand was close enough for hangrenades, three shots and one dog are on their way. Molly makes her lab-esque entrance into the slow moving river, her high pitched cry letting me know she had them marked. The first two she bypassed, they were DRT, the third was crippled and was her mark. Good girl.
By 8am we had seven in a nice mixed bag. Bob spots a lone Tiel, flying down river, fifty yards out; he was the only one with gun in hand so, 1 and 1/4 ounces of #2 steel is sent on its merry way. One broke-wing Tiel and one tired Bavarian Shepard are now in a race to the I90 bridge sumteenth miles
away. Chinese fire drill! Get canoe into water, start for what is now only a portion of head sticking out of the water. Shepard's will float, very wet tired ones don't. They sink, albeit slowly. We make the rescue and get the bird about 500 yards from where we started, that river REALLY moves in the middle. Tired wet dog, two winded hunters in the middle of the Columbia laughing our butts off.
Can it get any better? We still have to pick up our stuff at the "FMB".
Back at the bank, our backs against the sun warmed rocks, cold cans and sandwiches in our hands. Life is soooooo; "*** was that?" Bob asked.
"Shhh, Chukar, load-up." Loaded, safety off, 1 2 3, up we pop to sight of oh so many gray birds. I swear I heard Molly laugh, this is the stuff she loved, upland game again. The din quiets to the sound of Molly with scent. I look at Bob shake my head, there is no way in hades I'm climbing up that. He
laughs, nods, and Molly comes back with the first of HER four birds. So much for a mid morning lunch.
Life is so good!
I'm looking at the two bands we got as I type this.
Day two count, 9 ducks (Brian got 1), 8 chukar, one grouse.
2 days till Elk season.
With dinner a pleasant memory and our pantry none the less for wear, we decided to venture back to the river.
Geese on the river bank at creep in distance, we decide to jump shoot the river. We make our stalk and are rewarded with three honkers, jerky is now on the menu.
Bob and I decide to walk the bank south in jump shoot mode. Brian packs the geese and goes into cook mode.
We cruise the north side in a relaxed mode; We have already had a good three days. As we reach a long open area bereft of obstacles and drift, another hunter showes with his dog. Our spell has broken and all bets are off. Molly peaks at the intrusion and just as quickly goes birdy. I decide to follow her while watching said hunters dog break for us. Chukar up Chukar down in the river. Molly gets to the wet first and hits the hydrus five yards from the dry as alien lab and hunter join the game.
Me: "Get your dog back"
Him: " Heel"
Me: " He's swimming her back, call him off."
Molly brakes free of the hydra and circles the lab in what I would call a: "If think you can?"
I offer to sink the offending party as Bob and Molly use paw/hand signals to retrive bird. Laughs are had and questions are made about Dogs and breed.
Life is good!
1 day to Elk season.
Me and two friends spent two weeks hunting the Colockum area
of Eastern Washington in 1993. I lived in Tacoma then. Me and
Bob in motor home towing jeep, Brian driving his Toyota. Bob, from Ohio, and I had cow tags. Brian, from Oregon, had an any Elk tag.
We arrived on the opening day of upland game and ran into a Rancher that showed us a camp site with a spring. I took my dog and shotgun and drove to Wenatchee for ice. B&B stayed behind to level motor home, set camp and start the venison roast/stew cooking.
On the way back Molly and I spotted Chukar. We jump out of the jeep, she sets up on heel and off to work we go. 25 min later she retrieves the third bird. 200 yds from camp, Grouse! one shot one bird, one happy camper and dog. I pull into camp with questions about hearing a shot minutes ago.... "Help me unload the Jeep guys", the trip has started!
4 days till Elk season.
Next day, scouting the area for Elk we find that in two days there will be hunters in the wheat fields for three, one day hunts. Figuring the resident herd will scoot, we decided to find escape routes and likely shooting lanes as the fields are stepped from the Columbia river to the closed area North. We decide on a likely transition area and look for other species to hunt. Ducks and geese are on the menu.
3 days till Elk season.
Bob, Molly and I take the canoe. Brian and Bunky use his skiff. We're off to the Columbia river. During our scouting trip we had sighted a small sand bar
forming a cove in the river. Bob and my destination was there. Brian went his own direction with his Lab. We launch at O dark thirty and begin our slow trip south to the rhythm of paddles making wakes.
As far as landscape recognition goes, I'd like to think I'm pretty good. As far as reality is concerned, I'd like to blame my lucky streak on just that, I'm lucky.
Bob and I, mainly me, rejected sand bar after sand bar. O dark thirty had become O light soon and we had decoy zero in the water. "Look, that's the bank" I say with conviction. Canoe lands and the sound of wings whistling is interrupted only by the splash of decoys hitting the water. We set the decoys to the sound of Molly whining and birds flying. Bob braces the canoe behind a dead fall. The game is on!
Let me start with a description of our "five minute blind".It consisted of a tangle of wild grape hastily cut and pulled over us. Molly, dutiful as ever, wined and watched as winged retrieves flew by with nary a shot. When the second hand was close enough for hangrenades, three shots and one dog are on their way. Molly makes her lab-esque entrance into the slow moving river, her high pitched cry letting me know she had them marked. The first two she bypassed, they were DRT, the third was crippled and was her mark. Good girl.
By 8am we had seven in a nice mixed bag. Bob spots a lone Tiel, flying down river, fifty yards out; he was the only one with gun in hand so, 1 and 1/4 ounces of #2 steel is sent on its merry way. One broke-wing Tiel and one tired Bavarian Shepard are now in a race to the I90 bridge sumteenth miles
away. Chinese fire drill! Get canoe into water, start for what is now only a portion of head sticking out of the water. Shepard's will float, very wet tired ones don't. They sink, albeit slowly. We make the rescue and get the bird about 500 yards from where we started, that river REALLY moves in the middle. Tired wet dog, two winded hunters in the middle of the Columbia laughing our butts off.
Can it get any better? We still have to pick up our stuff at the "FMB".
Back at the bank, our backs against the sun warmed rocks, cold cans and sandwiches in our hands. Life is soooooo; "*** was that?" Bob asked.
"Shhh, Chukar, load-up." Loaded, safety off, 1 2 3, up we pop to sight of oh so many gray birds. I swear I heard Molly laugh, this is the stuff she loved, upland game again. The din quiets to the sound of Molly with scent. I look at Bob shake my head, there is no way in hades I'm climbing up that. He
laughs, nods, and Molly comes back with the first of HER four birds. So much for a mid morning lunch.
Life is so good!
I'm looking at the two bands we got as I type this.
Day two count, 9 ducks (Brian got 1), 8 chukar, one grouse.
2 days till Elk season.
With dinner a pleasant memory and our pantry none the less for wear, we decided to venture back to the river.
Geese on the river bank at creep in distance, we decide to jump shoot the river. We make our stalk and are rewarded with three honkers, jerky is now on the menu.
Bob and I decide to walk the bank south in jump shoot mode. Brian packs the geese and goes into cook mode.
We cruise the north side in a relaxed mode; We have already had a good three days. As we reach a long open area bereft of obstacles and drift, another hunter showes with his dog. Our spell has broken and all bets are off. Molly peaks at the intrusion and just as quickly goes birdy. I decide to follow her while watching said hunters dog break for us. Chukar up Chukar down in the river. Molly gets to the wet first and hits the hydrus five yards from the dry as alien lab and hunter join the game.
Me: "Get your dog back"
Him: " Heel"
Me: " He's swimming her back, call him off."
Molly brakes free of the hydra and circles the lab in what I would call a: "If think you can?"
I offer to sink the offending party as Bob and Molly use paw/hand signals to retrive bird. Laughs are had and questions are made about Dogs and breed.
Life is good!
1 day to Elk season.
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my special half double gun will shoot "pellet loads"...#9 works real well, yes I passed onto H&H Hunter this valuable tip.
