Food Plot Panting Part Two October 11, 2011

We worked ahead of the rain today to finish planting; this time the bigger food plot. Another bag of Pennington seed, then over-seeded with five pounds of inoculated turnip seed, along with lime and 10-10-10 fertilizer. We'll see how she does.

The six foot tiller on the Kioti prepares a really smooth seed bed. Metering the seed was difficult with the yellow seeder on the John Deere. Turnips, rape, and clover are tiny, winter grasses are bigger, and the cowpeas are very big. Spreading this seed with any shot at even coverage was an excercise in futility. We finally settled on a setting of "7" for fertilizer and "8" for the seed. Next year, I think we'll make a small seed pass and a peas pass if we're still broadcast planting.

A quick drag with the small chain harrow behind the mule, and we're done. On these small plots, this rig is a whole lot easier to drag with than a tractor with the big harrow. Wish we had a cultipacker though. The rain started as I dragged the plot, and kept up nice and gentle all night. Some seed had sprouted within 3 days.

Thanksgiving Day--2009

Thanksgiving Day has always been a pretty big hunting day around here. We're generally not working, and my brothers are often here at the farm with us. We have all afternoon to siesta, so an early morning is no great challenge even if the Thanksgiving Eve family get together strays into the wee hours. This year it was just Dad and I on one of our favorite beaver pond honey holes. Pre-dawn and dawn low light photos are tough to do right. They never seem to do justice to the moment I'm trying to capture. That time, before the birds start calling, is quiet, serene...for me very spiritual. I'd love to share the essence of this part of the hunting experience, but really cannot...these pics are the best I can do, I suppose.

Pre-dawn in the Beaver Swamp

First Light

Sometimes we sit together; other times a few yards apart. Until first light, the only way I know Dad's there is the glow of his cigarette in the dark. When light comes, he appears in the shadows. Then we wait, first for the birds, then for the sun as it rises in our faces.

Dad in the shadows

Sunrise Over the Decoys

Cris

Cris passed away yesterday evening while at home with Christiane and sleeping quietly. He drew one final breath and simply stopped. The cancer he'd held at bay for a year and a half finally took him. His final weeks had been tough ones for Cris and his family, although he rallied somewhat last week and was able to smile and carry on conversations, giving everyone around him a final memory of the old Cris. During those moments he chided Christiane, kidded Dad, spoke to Harry, and groused with his nurses. For a few days his blue eyes sparkled, then in his final few days he lapsed into a peaceful sleep.

In a fashion typical of Cris, he directed that there be no memorial service or funeral. The man who didn’t want people singing in restaurants on his birthday for fear of drawing unnecessary attention to himself wished to go out of this world without fanfare. Cris is being cremated, and his ashes will be spread in a favorite trout stream high up in the Blue Ridge, from where all of us that loved him can look West and see him. It's a favorite, secret fishing spot of his and his father's...a fitting spot to rest.

We had years of great times together..hunts long remembered, Harry growing up, state skeet tournaments so hot you could fry eggs on the gun barrel, and just plain shooting the bull over a taste of whiskey. Last year's final duck hunt proved his last...so glad it was a good hunt. Even after he got sick, Cris never gave up living, loving, hunting, laughing. They gave him a couple of months and he took a year and a half...some of the best living of his life.

Raise your glass and toast Cris. So long buddy. We'll sorely miss you.

More Early Ducks

Saturday Morning, Oct 10

Dad and I hunted the same spot and saw fewer ducks...still all woodies. I put one down way below the dam...Flip hunted pretty hard but the bird was poorly marked and in the thick stuff and we never found it. Meanwhile Dad put a drake down ten yards in front...when Flip and I got back he recovered that bird fine. Once again it was all over quickly.

Early Ducks

October 8

We haven't hunted doves since opening day...no birds anywhere that we can find. Finished the skeet season with the closed club shoot in Sept. It's been a busy Fall. Cris has been under the weather and we missed having him here for our ducks opener.

Dad and I hunted on George's side of the creek. Went in plenty early. The corn's not cut, so we slipped into our little honey-hole by walking between eight foot tall rows of corn and then creeping to the beaver dam. The beaver made known his dissatisfaction with our intrusion before we even got set, and kept popping his tail until the shooting sent him back into the lodge. Flip fidgeted and protested that he couldn't go "play" with the beaver, but he sat tight and didn't yip.

Right at legal time bunches of woodies came piling in, mostly in twos and fours, but some bigger groups too. The suckers came, as they always do, screaming in through the trees, fast and furious. You only get a second or two to commit, mount the gun, and get off a shot before they're either past up the creek or down on the water...no circling and quacking for these guys...you'd better be ready and quick about it.

We got in plenty of shooting but only two down for sure, with one lost. By 7:30 it was over. No pics today.

Last Ducks This Season

Saturday, January 24

There's been just enough thaw to open a little patch up the creek...moving into place through the darkness the only sound is cold water flowing over the beaver dam thirty yards on our left. The temperature's comfortable and dull clouds overhead seem to muffle all sounds...skating on waders I work to the open water and set up the Mojo and a couple of black decoys. Cris and Christiane have joined us for this, the last morning of the duck season. Still trying to balance my way across the ice, dodging the dog who's skittering ahead, then underfoot, behind me I hear a thud and a curse. Cris has tumbled over his dove stool backwards into the mud. He flails for a minute like a junebug on its back before righting himself onto the stool. I hear giggles from behind gloved hands, first Christiane, then Dad....

Flip and I set up on the left, Dad on the right, Cris and Christiane in between...and we wait. This is the quiet, expectant time...each of us knit together as hunters have been for thousands of years, and also alone with our thoughts. This time before the light, before the ducks and guns, is calm, thoughtful, and comfortable. It's one of those parts of hunting I can't explain to the uninitiated, and wouldn't really care to try if I could. Just before legal time I hear the first circling quacks and chuckles. The first group of four or five pitches in just after legal...I take one fat greenhead and Flip makes a quick retrieve. By now we're covered in ducks. Threes, tens, big groups all pile in without regard for the splashing dog and wading handler. Cris puts one in the thicket behind me, then two more out front. Dad another, and we have four down nearly at once, all drakes. Flip does his job like the thoroughbred he is.

After working Flip on the birds I end up near Cris and squat in front on the ice as another bunch works its way in. As they flare, Cris kills one more, a funky hybrid of some sort that none of us can identify.

Then, as quickly as it began, it's over. If we were ballplayers, we'd be high fiving like crazy over the shooting we just shared....but we're not ballplayers...we're hunters, so we stand and savor the moment as we watch the light fill the swamp and warm the ice. Christiane's popped her first caps at ducks....cool! I pick up Mr. Mojo for the last time and begin to contemplate breakfast and benelli cleaning. What a great day! What great friends to share it with!

jts

The Mob after the Hunt

Was That Fun, or What?

Oh Vanna....!

Tres Hombres Benelli....Ole!

What a Great Day!

Yep, M. R. Ducks

Three Below

Saturday, Jan. 17

This from the NWS and Weatherunderground.com

Louisa - Northside, Louisa, Virginia (PWS)
-3.1 °F
Clear
Windchill:
-3 °F
Humidity:
81%
Dew Point:
-8 °F

I didn't know we lived in Alberta...

Too cold to take the camera. Dad and I set up on the only open water we found, a small piece below a beaver dam about the size of our dining room. Cold, cold, cold. Didn't see bird one, so quit early and here we are back at the house at 0733.

Last Doves

Saturday, January 10

Dad and I hit the same spot as yesterday. Nothin'. Dad shot at one high flyer that was circling and really wanted in across the creek....desperation shot. Funny how much difference one day can make. Yesterday we saw maybe a hundred birds in there...today, nada.

Perry slipped in behind us and farther down the creek. I flushed a hen mallard from the swamp straight to him. He said it was the first bird he'd shot in three years. Never thought I'd see a three year drought with one of those brothers....we all get busy with softball or other things our kids are doing. It was nice to see him there. Root's getting pretty old and gimpy...Perry says he's twelve...old Labrador.

Sparks has closed for good. There'll probably be more of that with this economy struggling. We went up to the Mineral Restaurant for breakfast after the hunt. Picked up another beagle pup, Jack, from Allen this week....more on Jack later.




Falling temps and rain were the prediction for the afternoon, but since it was the last day of late doves we thought we'd give it a try. Went over to the Bibb place and set up in a bean field. The birds were working a line between the beans and a patch of picked over corn. We sat against some power poles, but it's a big field and hard to hunt with only a few guns. About three the rain started and Dad headed home. Flip and I stuck it out for another hour before we'd had enough too.

Big flocks were flying, maybe twenty to forty in each, but they were few and far between, and they never seemed to light where you wanted them. I killed three and called it a season. We headed home to the fire and some hot chocolate.

Right Spot at the Right Time.....

Friday, January 9

Dad and I hunted the same spot as with Cris and Christiane last weekend. Loads of ducks this morning, and we ended up with two drakes and two hens, all mallards. Flip's getting much better this season at working the scent and hunting cover to recover birds. He did fine today.

Where'd they go?

Wednesday, December 24

Hunted in the same spot as last time. Didn't see bird one...go figure.

Widgeons

Saturday, December 13

December's full moon is always nearer than the others for the year. This night's was special....closer than any time in the past fifteen years. At its perigee, near setting as we approached George's field, the moon hung bright and clear....fourteen percent brighter and thirty percent bigger than normal. No need for flashlights setting out this morning. Those who think hunting is all about the killing have never spent time with these two hunters when the cold is so crisp as to catch your breath and the moon so bright and beautiful as to make you wonder at God's glory.

We set up by the beaver dam on George's side. Realizing now that most who visit don't know about George's and Edward's and other secret spots gives me pause to explain, and so I will in the next post.....for now, George's side of the creek is next to a big field that this summer was thick with soybeans on one side and forage sorghum on the other. On cold, frosty days like this you could walk all the way to the edge of the beaver swamp, a small pond astride a smaller creek, in your bedroom slippers without getting wet or muddy. From this side, you face east into the rising sun, so duck identification and first light shots are tough. Beyond is a large marsh, full of boot sucking mud and hat-floater holes. The spot in front of us was calm water, just above the beaver dam and full of acorns, a favorite morning spot for whatever puddle ducks move through.

This morning we were lucky. Plenty of birds were trading up the creek from their roosts on the lake, and although Croc yipped in her excitement, the ducks decoyed well. I killed the first mallard drake into the dekes and another minutes later that fell into a cedar bough twenty feet up a tree...thankfully he eventually tumbled down without assistance and Croc made her second retrieve.

A pair of widgeons decoyed and we put both on the water....both drakes....widgeons here are more unusual than they once were when there was plenty of hydrilla in the lake, before the damned carp were put in. That both were drakes seemed even more unusual. Croc made a long retrieve and hunted hard to find the first, which had gone out of sight up the pond. Then she nabbed the second one from where he had scooted under a big cat brier patch....good girl.

Widgeons, called baldpates in some regions, are pretty birds. Smaller than mallards, they get the baldpate moniker from the appearance of their heads. Gray with a green streak across the eye, the color fades to a pale, almost white crown.

Widgeons have very pretty chestnut, black, and gray hackle feathers on their backs and the tops of their wings. I should have saved these for CG, my fly-tying buddy.

As always on bluebird mornings, the birds were done flying by 7:30, so back to the house we went for breakfast and coffee. As we crossed the yard, I noticed the sun highlighting the American holly in the yard.



What a fine morning....what a great place to live.

The Ducks are Finally Here

Saturday, December 6

Hunted on George's side....colder than a well digger's grave. Finally, Ducks! Right at legal time pairs, threes, and some big groups started piling in. We didn't put out dekes....no need when you're set up in the honey hole.



The ice was bothering Flip, so he cheated by returning on the beaver dam. At one point we had too many birds down...confused him a bit.



All mallards today. Didn't see a woodie or black all morning. We'll rest this spot a few days and bring Cris next week.



All in all, the best day so far this year. Keep 'em coming!

Stella!

Wednesday, Nov. 19



Bob and Robert came early for ducks. We hunted George's side and saw two groups of woodies early. Later, I walked them up and Dad killed one on a pass shot. Flip winded the little drake before I sent him...the bird had fallen into a thicket of briars....no problem for the dog....great retrieve.

Larry eventually arose from his beauty sleep and met us at the house for a rabbit hunt after we finished our big post-ducks breakfast. I went home and got the puppy and Bob turned his mob out by the machine shed. We probably jumped five or six rabbits. The dogs had trouble keeping on the trail....too dry? Stella did fine. She doesn't know what she's about yet, but she kept up with the rest of the hounds, and at least she knows she's a beagle now. Robert killed one rabbit and gave the pup a snootful...that got her plenty excited!



Another fun hunt with good friends. Hey, any day in the field's a good'un!

jts

Last Day of Early Ducks

Monday, Oct. 13--

Dad and I hunted the last morning for early ducks on George's side of the creek. Beavers have built a new dam and flooded the "honey hole". Looked really promising, but again, no ducks. Immediately adjacent Will has just chopped some forage sorghum silage, but there were no doves on the wires as we left. I scouted the Bibb place. They're shelling corn in the bottom, but again, no doves. Dunno where they are.

Amy and I took a long walk around the loop in the afternoon and got up a big gang of turkeys in the bottom, near the lower turn. They flew down the lake toward Kevin's. Next project is a clean up at the cabin for winter.

Saturday, Oct. 11

Despite seeing no birds yesterday, we had to try 'em at least once in the early season. Dad and I hunted Edward's. Heard just a few Woodies squealing. Saw one lone duck about dawn and quit early.....still worth the trip. I wonder if the lack of ducks up here has anything to do with the water being back to regular levels in the lake...dunno.

Switched gears for the afternoon. Will and Willie arrived in time for a dove hunt in the sunflower field, which is pretty picked over. Saw very few doves. I shot at one and thought I missed. Saw Will walk over under the sycamore. Turns out I hit the bird and it went into the tree. Will said it hopped up and down for several seconds and fell out of the tree. Flip got the bird up and it flew across the pond, where he hunted hard and made a good retrieve.

Things were so slow we traded guns for fishing poles. I hooked a big bass, but lost him at my feet while trying to lip him out of the moss at the bank. Oh well.

Friday, Sept. 19

Called Dad, who said there'd finally been more birds in the sunflowers. Drove out for an impromptu hunt, arriving at 4:15 and hunted until about 5:30. Fall weather's arrived, along with big flocks......ten to twenty at a crack. The shooting was fast and so was the wind. We each lost several dead into the treeline....shot at thirty yards and windblown into the trees behind us. Since I was rushed to get to Goldmine, I left Flip in the pen. Croc pulled double duty picking up for both of us. On the way back I noticed the dogwoods were just taking on some color. Fall will be in full swing soon.

September 3

Storm's coming. With Hurricane Hannah threatening for the weekend, Dad decided to hunt today rather than resting the field till Saturday. We hunted from about four to six. Still slow. I stood and watched the doves piling into the uncut part of the church pasture....landing on the sunflower stalks in the thick stuff instead of coming up the hill to the mowed part. Interesting.

Dad killed a fat pigeon. Asked if it counted as two doves since it was so big, or as none. "Whatever you want it to count as, I guess." I killed eight doves.

No pics today....forgot the camera. Gave half the dove breasts to John and Shelby. Never saw any more of the pigeon....mebbe Croc ate it.

jts

Opening Day

What a great day! Cool enough to be comfortable in the shade....that's a switch. Awesome company.......

• Christiane's first dove hunt, in the shade with Cris in the 'hot' corner;
• Jay and Kathy, unfettered by obligations and savoring retirement time;
• Larry's first dove hunt in years, 196 days and a wake-up to retirement;
• Bill and Greg with the human retrievers Robert and Tyler;
• Neighbor Brian with daughter Courtney and trusty Buttercup;
• Ed from church;
• Kurt, Dad and I representing our clan;
• Croc and Flip doing better than average for an opener.

The birds were slow; Colemans' started chopping corn. Dunno, maybe that pulled the birds some. Everybody got some shooting; we cleaned and grilled maybe thirty birds. We'll rest the field and try again Saturday if the storms allow. Missed Will and his boys.....they'll be along Saturday.

Getting Ready

Monday starts a new season. Today the first of the sunflowers were mowed. Neither of us said it....no need.......both thinking of her today.

The dogs are ready and invites are done. Everyone got your license and shells?