Live for the season...

Lord willing and the river don't rise...

Here's another duck hunting tale for you. This one might should go under "Stupid Hunting Stories" instead of "Funny Hunting Stories" but you know, the funniest thing about all of these stories is that they actually happened!

Probably the best spot that Craig & I ever had to duck hunt at home was practically in the city limits of Fayetteville. In fact, we would park our trucks at City softball / soccer fields & then walk about 100 yards into the County to hunt. It was 5 minutes from my house in one direction, and 5 minutes from Craig's work in the other. Normally this spot was just a big pothole - a low spot in a corn field that held water in the Winter. We had some great hunts there and killed a bunch of ducks & geese over the 2 or 3 years that we got to hunt it.

The ball fields & the field where we hunted are right on the Elk River & like many river bottoms, they flood about every 4 or 5 years. I don't remember the exact year (late 90's), but this particular January we had gotten a LOT of rain. Craig & I had planned to hunt one morning (a Saturday), but our County was under a flood warning. So the night before, we just decided that we would meet at the ball fields at daylight & see if we could even get into our hunting spot.

I can still remember pulling into the ball fields & seeing nothing but water - the entire parking lot was under water. But, I could tell from the fence & trees that it wasn't very deep. I was very relieved that the water never got over 6" deep as I eased the truck across the parking lot toward where we hunted. As soon as Craig got there, we got our waders on & headed toward the corn field.

We'd never really noticed before, but the far side of the corn field was quite a bit lower than the parking lot. The water was between knee & thigh-high where we wanted to hunt. Seems like it was already daylight by the time that we had gotten set up & thrown a few dekes out. Not sure how many we killed but I DO remember that ducks were flying everywhere!

We hadn't had time to built a temporary blind that morning so we were constantly adjusting our position & moving around a brush pile at the edge of the field. At one point, we noticed that the water seemed noticeably deeper on 1 side of the pile - almost over our waders. I remember knocking down a duck & almost not being able to reach it before the current swept it away to the deeper water - in the middle of the field. The funny thing was, that was the direction that we had come in from - we must have just lucked out & happened to find & walk in on the only high spot in the entire corn field. Odd...

After an hour or so, we also noticed that the City police were driving up & down the highway by the ballfields with their lights on. Then they stopped in front of the entrance to the parking lot (but never pulled in ) & just sat there for 5 or 10 minutes, still with blue lights flashing - almost like they were looking for someone or wanted to keep people out of the parking lot. All we could figure was that maybe someone had heard the shooting & reported it as being in the City - but then that didn't make sense either seeing how we had been hunting that same spot all season. Odd...

Back in those days, I was working on Saturdays but Craig wasn't - so I had to leave around 8 that morning. Craig wanted to stay for a while since the hunting was so good so we just agreed to go back later that afternoon to pick up the decoys. So I got my ducks & the rest of my stuff together & started out for the truck. Funny, I never did find that high-spot that we had walked in on - if anything, I thought I had picked the lowest path possible back to the truck since the water was threatening to come over my waders for the entire trip. Odd...

You know those little moments you have when you see something so shocking, or something so unexpected happens that you just feel like you've been slapped? Let's just say I wasn't prepared for what I saw when I got back to the parking lot! You remember that 6" water that was barely up to the white letters on my tires when I parked?? Well, in just a little over a couple of hours it had risen almost 2 feet! I don't think I had ever felt so helpless as I stood there - dumbfounded - staring at the water that was now covering the bottom of my doors. How could the water have come up that much, that fast & we not notice it? And better yet, how were we going to get out of there?? You see, as you exit the parking lot, the drive slopes DOWN before you climb back up to the highway.

So after frantically yelling & waiving my arms to convince Craig of the seriousness of our situation, I jumped in the truck, said a quick prayer, & started for the entrance. Without a doubt, that was the longest 200 yard drive of my life. I cannot ever remember being soooo scared in a vehicle - not scared of physical harm, but scared that I would get stuck, swamp my truck, and have to explain to the insurance company (and my wife) just how I happened to be parked in a flooded ball field! All was good till I started down that slope. I rolled the window down & hung my head out so I could keep an eye on the water level, said another prayer, and kept going. It seemed like the water was rising an inch for every foot that I moved forward. At the worst (lowest) point, the water actually came up over the hood of my truck, but it never stuttered, so I kept going - REALLY, what else was I going to do?

I don't think I have ever been so relieved to get out of a bad situation. I felt like the weight of the world (or at least the weight of a Chevy Z71) had been lifted from my shoulders as soon as my tires hit dry pavement! But I couldn't celebrate just yet since my buddy was still under water. I pulled into the parking lot of the business next to our ball field & started blowing my horn - just to be sure that Craig had, in fact, understood the seriousness of the situation. I guess he had because it wasn't long before I saw him get in his truck & start for the exit. He managed to get out about as well as I did & drove over to meet me in the other parking lot. We counted our blessings, did a quick visual inspection of the trucks, and decided that they would need servicing at the very least.

Believe it or not, neither truck showed any signs of water in the air intake, oil, or rear ends. Don't think we could have been any luckier. This was one time that I was VERY thankful that I had had to quit hunting to get to work! I have a feeling that the outcome would have been much worse if we'd even stayed for just 30 more minutes!

A turkey, a farmer, and a little cross-country run...

Ahhh, I'm afraid that this is one of those stories where we'll have to use some aliases - wouldn't want my friends to get into any trouble :)) This is a humorous little tale about 2 young gents who just didn't know how to say no to that oh so seductive sound, the turkey gobble!

Chuck & John were best friends who had grown up hunting together. Back in the old days, there just weren't that many turkeys around. So it was actually a rare event to find a gobbling turkey during season that was not A) being hunted by someone else, or B) completely covered up with hens. Well this particular Spring, Chuck & John were hunting on a small tract in land in "Snotty Hollow". And, as it so often happens in turkey hunting, all the action was on the wrong side of the fence. Day in and day out Chuck & John would sit on their side of the fence trying to impersonate cute-sounding little lonely hens. Of course the gobblers would answer nearly every cluck & yelp, but they never even entertained the thought of getting close enough to the fence to offer Chuck or John a shot.

I'm sure that all you real turkey hunters out there understand - a man can only take so much. After several days of listening to the symphony of turkeys sounds coming from across the fence & KNOWING that no one else was hunting that particular piece of poultry paradise, our friends Chuck & John had had all that they could stand. So the next morning, they got up extra early, crossed that cursed fence, and headed strait into the heart of turkey-town. Their destination was a wooded hilltop that overlooked a green hollow. They knew from listening from across the fence for the past several days that this was the spot where the action started every morning. The gobblers would roost on that hilltop, fly down in the woods, and then slowly peck their way to the pasture where they would meet up with their hens.

Daylight found the boys set up in front of 2 large hardwood trees on that hilltop. The gobblers were there, just as Chuck & John knew that they would be - the only problem was that they flew down the hill instead of up on the top. But, no problem - Chuck & John had all day if necessary - there was NEVER anyone else around on this particular piece of property. I'm not sure exactly how long it took, but eventually the boys were able to call the birds back up to their location. 3 or 4 gobblers made their way up the steep hillside, gobbling the entire way.

This particular morning, Chuck was doing the calling & John was the trigger man. Chuck was set up just a few yards behind John, be he still had a great view of the action. I'm not sure how to best describe what happened after John shot, but it was something like pandemonium. Turkeys were flying in every direction and then they heard "HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! WHO'S UP THERE?!?!?!",uh... yep... there was 1 VERY unhappy sounding farmer at the bottom of the hill yelling at Chuck & John... huh?... where did HE come from? There is NEVER anyone else around on this property! Well, John turned to look at Chuck & Chuck turned to look at John, both with eyes as big Saucers. About that time, our turkey hunters hear a tractor crank up, engine racing, heading their way. Funny, the boys both reached the same conclusion without ever speaking a word - RUN!

Just imagine 2 young men in full turkey hunting garb (including: vests loaded with every decoy & call available at the local Wal-mart, and knee-high rubber boots) running a 5K cross-country race and you'll have some idea as to what Chuck & John looked like as they made their escape. Oh and did I mention that the angry farmer & his tractor were between our wayward hunters & "their" fence? So as they high-tailed it across 500 yards of open pasture with Elmer Fudd in hot pursuit, they were headed AWAY from safety and towards yet another farm about which they knew absolutely nothing. They did know however that they were headed toward the nearest cover & that the tractor couldn't get across that next fence - so that was EXACTLY where they wanted to be!

Surprisingly, the boys made it across the pasture and over the fence before the farmer & the tractor could make it up the hill. Not sure exactly how long they kept running AFTER they dove across the fence and made it to heavy cover, but I DO know that they kept running until they practically collapsed from exhaustion! And eventually, Chuck & John circled around & finally got up the nerve to walk up the edge of the road to where they had parked - knowing the whole time that the Sheriff, or worse yet, the farmer would be waiting for them at their trucks. But, once again our boys lucked out and managed to get away clean.

Did they learn their lesson? I think so - I'm pretty sure if you asked them today, they'd say that the moral of this little story is "always wear running shoes when you go turkey hunting!" :)) Oh, and what about the turkey that John shot at???? HE MISSED!

Lost in translation

I'm pretty sure that this one's been told on this blog before, but it is definitely worth repeating - a CLASSIC!

Why is it that you cannot go on a hunting trip without stopping at a Wal-mart somewhere along the way? Well, my 2008 Alberta bear hunt was no different. After Tannice (the Lady cook from camp) picked us up at the airport in Grand Prairie Alberta, we just had to make a stop at Wally World for some snacks & other last minute stuff before heading to camp. The store wasn't overly busy, but as so often happens, Will (one of the guys hunting with us) was nearly run over by another customer's shopping cart as he rounded the end of an isle.

It just so happened that the other shopper was an attractive young Lady. She immediately began to apologize for not paying attention & almost over-running my pal Will. Without giving it a second thought, Will began to waive off her apologies saying "you're fine - that's ok - don't worry about it...". You can imagine his confusion when she turned beet red - blushing, mumbled a thank you, dropped her head in embarrassment, and quickly retreated. Still confused when we got back to the truck, he replayed the entire sequence of events for Tannice, asking her "what would you think if I'd said the same thing to you?" Of course her answer was "oh I'd think you just told me I was HOT!" So not only did our stop at Wal-mart teach us that our friends to the North don't use all the same little phrases that we do here in the South, but we almost got Will a date for the week as well! :))

Did you get one?

This year was 1987. "Back in the day", we didn't have many chances for either sex hunts during our regular Statewide season. So being deer crazy, we often looked elsewhere for additional opportunities at doe hunts. One of these opportunities was the Wildlife Management Area at Arnold Air force Base (AEDC) in nearby Tullahoma, TN. This particular year, Dwain, his brother Dwight, & I drew tags for the rifle range - and it just so happened that this was the first year that the rifle range had been hunted in something like 15 years.

Let me tell you, I have never before or since hunted a place that had soooooo many deer! The rifle range wasn't high-fenced, but it was definately a safety zone. The deer of AEDC knew that they were safe once they entered the boundaries of the rifle range - or at least had been for the last 15 years. I don't really remember scouting, but I think Dwain had gone over earlier in the week to pick out our stand sites. We were probably hunting 200 yards or so apart and another 200 yards from the truck. I do remember being settled high in a pine in my climber well before daylight. As soon as it got daylight, the games began! There were literally deer running in every direction and more shots being fired than on the best opening day dove shoot you can imagine.

AEDC was shotgun or archery only, but muzzle loaders were allowed also. This was before the inline revolution, so we were all still shooting old "Hawken" style muzzle loaders. I had a scope on mine - it was actually a pistol scope that mounted way up on the barrel (so it would clear the hammer) in place of the rear sight. This set-up was just slightly better than iron sights.

I heard Dwain shoot right after daylight & then it wasn't long till I had an opportunity. A group of does came through, I picked out a good, still target & fired. The smoke cleared... no deer - so I climbed down the tree & started looking for blood. About that time Dwain came walking up - "Did you get one?" He had in fact killed a doe, heard me shoot, and had come down to help me look for mine. No sign - obviously a miss - no big deal, LOTS of deer here! Dwain said he'd just walk to the truck & wait for me to shoot again before going to check in his deer.

So, I climbed back up my tree & settled back in. Wasn't long before another group of does ran by - did I mention that there were a LOT of deer here? I waited for them to stop, picked out a big ole doe, shot, waited for the smoke to clear... nothing! I climbed down the tree & started looking for blood. About that time Dwain came walking up - "Did you get one?" No sign - obviously a miss - no big deal, LOTS of deer here! Dwain walked back to the truck to wait again...

So, once again, I climbed back up my tree & settled back in. I don't remember how long I waited, but once again - it wasn't long before another group of does ran by (LOTS deer here!) I waited for them to stop, picked one out, shot, waited for the smoke to clear... you know the routine by now... Dwain came walking up - "Did you get one?" This time after we found no blood, Dwain asked to shoot my gun to make sure it was on. He picked out a white spot on a tree about 50 yards away and fired. By this time I was secretly hoping that the gun was in fact off by a foot or more - that would be the only logical explanation for missing 3 deer in 3 hours, right? Of course, his shot hit EXACTLY where he had been aiming. :((

I made the long journey back up that pine tree one more time. Thankfully, I didn't get any more shots & was spared any further embarrassment. I did however drive back over the next morning, climb the same tree, and shoot a doe right at daylight. She dropped at the shot - at a distance at least twice as far as any of the 3 I'd missed the day before - go figure...

Story Time

Once again here we are in my least favorite season - "between" season. After deer season & before turkey season. This time last year I passed the time by blogging about my "Top 10" hunts - this year I think I'll tell some funny hunting stories. Many of these have never been told before for fear of prosecution embarrassment and in some cases, I may have to change some names or a few minor details to protect the guilty innocent, but regardless I think you'll enjoy! :)) Here's a duck hunting story to get us started:

TENNESSEE WILDLIFE!

For a long time, Craig & I lived on the river during duck season. In fact, there were several years where we cared more about duck hunting than deer hunting. Even on the best years, our local duck hunting was marginally good, at best. Being a couple hundred miles from the nearest real flyway, we found that the most effective way to hunt ducks at home was to float the river (Elk) & jump shoot them.

I'm not sure how well I can translate this into words, but this kind of duck hunting is a whole lot of hard work! These float trips would often begin 2 or more hours before daylight in below-freezing conditions. We would have to load the boat, motors (outboard & trolling), gas, battery, guns, shells, food, drinks, paddles, life vests, dry bags (full of extra clothes in case we got wet), and anything else we could fit in. Then we would drive 45 min to an hour to drop off a truck at the "take out" point. Finally we'd drive to the "put in" point and wait on daylight to start the float. Once underway, we'd stop at the first cane break & spend another hour cutting cane to camouflage the boat. The whole idea was to make our john boat look like a floating brush pile. We'd ease down the river under the power of the trolling motor until we spotted ducks or geese & then cut it off & try to drift down to them. Once close enough, we'd jump up and shoot as they flushed. Lots of fun & surprisingly productive under the right conditions.

Like any good thing, there's always got to be an idiot or 2 who mess it up. Over the years, we'd run into a couple of other river hunters who were less than gracious. Guys who thought that just because they had a bigger motor, they could pass you to get first dibs on the fresh ducks. See, once a flock had been flushed, they were pretty much done with the "floating brush piles" for a while.

Memories of some of these less than scrupulous hunters were still fresh in our minds as we were floating one September during the early wood duck / teal season. If memory serves me right, we already had 3 or 4 blue wing teal down and were on the second leg of our float when we heard it - an outboard - quickly closing in. GRRRRRRRR! :(( Idiots! - trying to pass us to get in on OUR birds! Huh - we'll show them! So we fired up our motor & took off down river. After about a mile, we killed the motor and started hunting again. A few minutes later... here they come again :(( We fire up our motor and take off again. After about a mile, we killed the motor and started hunting again. A few minutes later... here they come again :(( [OK - By this time we're starting to get just a little irritated]. About that time, we came up on a gravel bar that required us to get out and pull the boat across. We had just started doing that when our "friends" came motoring around the bend. OH, this is going to be good! We're going to tell them exactly what we think about them trying to hone in on our birds. We were busy trying to drag the boat across the gravel so we really weren't paying attention as they approached. But, as soon as we heard the front of their boat hit the gravel we turned around ready and eager for the confrontation.

What I saw when I turned around was so completely opposite of what I expected, it took my brain a few seconds to process the shock. Instead of the burly, gruff, shotgun-toting redneck I was expecting, I got a badge shoved in my face, attached to a slightly less than amused Officer who just happened to be yelling STOP, TENNESSEE WILDLIFE! Yep, that's right - the whole time we thought we were trying to outrun the competition, our friendly employees of the TWRA thought we were trying to outrun them! Oh my... uh... whoops! We're really sorry Officers, we really weren't trying to run away from you. Ha! Luckily, they were understanding after we explained what we thought was going on and actually had a pretty good sense of humor about the whole situation before it was over. I even remember offering the Officers a snack & a cold drink if they'd hang out on the gravel bar for a while to give us a head start so we could get back to our hunting - they declined. :)) After a pretty intensive search, I think we ended up with a warning ticket because one of us had forgotten to sign our duck stamp, but that was it - CERTAINLY could have been worse considering how far we had "run" from the law!