Duck Hunting - 2007

Saturday October 6 - Monday October 8th 2007.

This year's Duck hunt was what I would consider a real "wash out".

Due to an (unexplainable) lack of interest in hunting this year, an overall deficiency of and for motivation regarding all things hunting, and an already way to busy schedule, I was seriously debating on weather or not to hunt waterfowl this year. I decided I would get some “small game” hunting in (honestly, small game is some of my favorite hunting – Grouse and Squirrel top the list, and are some of my favorite delectable, delightful little delicacies! (Say that fast three times!)

My lack of interest caused me to spend nearly a week debating if I wanted to sit out the waterfowl portion of this weekend’s hunting activities. Also, because of Ed’s very busy schedule (and his “nesting project" for his new baby due in November) we had not planned for the trip like we usually do. I had no idea who was going up, what time we were arriving, and what the plans for food were going to be.

Because of a meeting at work, Ed was not going to be up at the cabin on Friday night (for the Saturday morning hunt) as planned. We were not going to be arriving until Saturday afternoon, which left Saturday evening, Sunday morning and Sunday evening. Three “hunts”. I had pretty much decided that I was going to pass on hunting waterfowl until Ed called me on Thursday night. We ironed out most of the details, and decided since Friday was a wash; we would stay up at the cabin for a Monday morning hunt. That made the deal a little more enticing.

It was not until the last possible moment (as I drove past our local post office) that I made the final decision to “go for it” and grab the Federal Stamp. I had not even spoken to Ed, and (as stated) did not have any formalized plans as of yet - but I felt I needed / deserved a weekend of waterfouling.

I got home, packed up my duck hunting gear (I have started a new "plan" where I keep most of my "duck hunting" stuff in one Rubbermaid bin, and my "deer hunting" gear in another. It makes packing up "significantly" easier.) After packing up my car, I headed up to the cabin. Since having only bought the Federal stamp, I knew I was going to have to still have to stop for the State stamp. As I left the house (around noon), I planned a quick stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a State stamp.

Once at Wal-Mart, I was behind two other guys who were in line to fulfill similar licensing requirements. The clerk behind the desk was relieving the "regular" sporting goods "team member", and due to his un-familiarity with selling Minnesota State Hunting Licenses (and other related items like Duck Stamps) along with his general struggle with speaking English, we will sum up this trip to Wal-Mart as a "hair pullingly frustrating" hour and fifteen minutes of my life. Thank goodness the guy ahead of me in line was a "like thinking" sort of fella, and so we passed the time with talk of hunting, guns, and our experiences with gunsmiths.

After (finally) getting my State stamp, I went to neatly tuck it in my wallet with my license, and my Federal stamp when I noticed something missing... My License and my Federal Stamp! I made a quick call home, confirming my nightmare that I did indeed leave them at home. I had to make the 15 minute trip BACK to my house from Wal-Mart to get the forgotten license and stamp, then turn back around and make the 15 minute trip back (passing Wal-Mart) as I finally made my way to meet Ed at his cabin. This little "oversight" added another two hours (total) to my trip. (Thank goodness for XM Radio and my radio buddays Ron & Fez.) I originally left my house at noon. I did not actually get "on the road" to the cabin until 2pm.

With a 2pm departure, I did not have an arrival time until almost 6pm. The trip did include a grocery stop in Aitkin, and much of the grocery shopping (that we normally do together) was done "together" on cellular telephones! Ed brought up the "meat", and I filled in the rest...

When I finally arrived at the cabin I discovered that it was going to be just myself and Ed this year! This was how the first few years of my introduction to duck hunting came about. Many years was spent with just Ed and I hunting together. After having a number of years with new friends join us, it was nice to have a “nostalgic” year of just Ed and I!

(Note: I realize that some of the newer friends I have made at “duck camp” read this blog. I want it known that I enjoy the new friends I have made over the years. This observation should not be construed in any way that I don’t like having others up there with us. It was just a nice sort of coincidence that it worked out this way! It “took me back” to days gone by.)

Since we were both famished, we started in on getting dinner done right away. Dinner consisted of two "gigantic" Porterhouse steaks (BBQ'ed to perfection - thanks to Ed), Bushes onion baked beans, bakery fresh olive oil / rosemary bread sticks, a six pack of Leinenkugel's "Oktoberfest" beers and some Dr. McGillicuddy's Vanilla Schnapps liquor for a bit of dessert . The hectic pace of the day (the stress of forgetting my license / stamp, running back and forth, trying to get to the cabin on time, stopping for groceries, etc...) was all washed away as we gluttonously savored this bountiful feast.

The remainder of the evening was spent cleaning up dinner, unpacking, some catching up, and finally a hard crash to the land of the sleeping.

We got an early start in the morning. We set up in the slew on the north shore of the lake before sunrise. It was warm... Unusually warm... The morning was around 70 degrees. The skies were overcast. There was very little activity in the air. We noticed a few small flocks of high flying ducks as the darkness of the early morning turned to the first light of dawn. I sat in the boat with Ed to my left, watching a slightly larger flock of ducks that were noticeably out of range on my right when I heard Ed whisper "Mark" (our term for "birds coming in, and I've got a visual on them"). I started wondering why Ed was going to even try taking shots at these birds, when I was startled out my curiosity by three loud blasts from Ed's gun.

Quickly looking back and forth trying to get my own "mark" on what Ed was shooting at, I saw flock of nearly a half dozen birds buzz our decoys. They came in from Ed’s left and originally out of my line of sight (blocked by Ed). By the time I shouldered my "cannon" and got a bead on the now distant birds - I decided they were too far for an effective and responsible kill shot, so I watched them fly away down the barrel of my gun. As the ringing subsided in my ears, I could hear the sarcastic banter of “Mr. Smart Ass” (oops... I mean Ed) as he stammered "I could have used a little bit of help there"...

(Reminder to self: Ed’s sarcastic remark was seemingly more a result of his frustration with himself over his bad shooting than it was with my complete oblivion to what had just happened)

Well, with the first bit of excitement of the day past us, we settled back down into the boat, and resumed our vigilant observation of the fall skies. As morning progressed (with nothing more in sight) we kicked back a bit, and started to relax a little. We lit up a couple of morning Backwoods cigars, and just started enjoying the day. Unexpectedly and out of NOWHERE a single teal flew in. It flew perpendicular to us (straight in at our 12 o'clock), and landed in the middle of our decoy spread. Simultaneously, we both looked at each other in complete disbelief. Ed whispered "Take it, it's yours", so I very gingerly set the cigar down on the boat seat, shouldered my behemoth of a gun, put a bead on the duck, and slowly stood up from the seated position. I had a bead on the teal before it even noticed me. I took my shot (completely strafing the decoys) as soon as it saw me it started to take off, dropping the duck. After a short time of watching it struggle in the water I placed my second "kill shot".

We hunkered down for a few more minutes (in case the sound of the shots rousted any other birds), and after not seeing anything, and because some morning "sprinkles" started to fall, we pulled out of our hidey-hole, gathered the decoys, the downed teal and headed back to the cabin for the morning.

When we arrived at the cabin and brought up our gear, we decided that our Backwoods cigars would not be enough for breakfast, so we dug into the groceries and got to the business of whipping up a quick little late breakfast / early lunch that consisted of thick sliced bacon (and I mean THICK), eggs, hash browns, toast, milk and orange juice.

After gorging ourselves on breakfast, we decided the best way to work it off was a "grouse / squirrel hunting" walk up the ridge along the lakeshore. It was still overcast and damp out, but the morning "sprinkles" had subsided. It was a nice walk. By the time we reached the end of the trail, and had walked back to the cabin, we had flushed up two grouse.

(Note: "Flushed up" does not mean we got a shot off at them, or even "saw" them for that matter...)

Since it was still not raining, and we had walked a large portion of the property, we decided it was time to walk some of the other nearby logging trails, and miscellaneous roads. We got into Ed's truck and drove to a local "Minimum Maintenance Road". Before we even arrived the morning "sprinkles" had returned, and developed into full blown afternoon "showers". Not really inclined to get soaked, we parked the truck and fell asleep while waiting out the rain.

We later woke to find the afternoon showers had subsided, and so we got out of the truck and started up the first of two long trails. After walking both the "Minimum Maintenance Roads" flushing 3 more grouse, we took a walk down the "Thompson Trail" (an old logging road), and saw nothing.

(I later realized this would end this fall's "grouse / squirrel hunting" season with a total of five flushed birds, and zero in the "game bag".)

By this time we were both getting tired, and hungry. We headed back to the cabin, starting in on preparing the evening feast. When the dust settled, we sat down and enjoyed an evening of Bratwurst (with onions), left over Bushes onion baked beans, more (now day-old) bakery fresh olive oil / rosemary bread sticks, and a few more Leinenkugel's "Oktoberfest" beers.

Planning on an "early" bedtime, it was around 8:30 when we started bunking down... that was until we discovered a possible mouse hideout. As we started investigating the possibility of a mouse infestation, our first discovery was of two live mice under the Ed’s bunk. The first of the two mice got away, while the second met an untimely disembowelment by the heel of Ed's boot. The box spring area of Ed's bunk had indeed become their home. After cleaning the box spring of any/all foreign nesting material, a pile of D-Con they had dragged into the bunk, and one previously deceased mouse, we moved our focus to the "built in" storage bins that line the wall (between the two bunks). We found evidence of mouse activity in these as well. And as we reached the end of the row of built in storage boxes, we hit my bunk. There was some (but very little) evidence that a mouse (or mice) had been in this bunk, but it was to a pretty limited extent. After a lot of cleaning and repairing (covering and plugging the holes where we felt the mice were moving through) we finally made it to bed.

When we did finally get to bed and achieved "lights out", we fell asleep to a full fledged thunderstorm. This was significant (to me) because of all the years I have been a guest at Ed's cabin, this was the first thunderstorm I experienced there. I am a big fan of thunderstorms, and this one was memorable as the "first" at Ed's cabin, but also because of the sheer darkness and utter and complete silence normally experienced at the cabin.

I awoke 30 minutes prior to the alarm sounding. It was pouring rain, and there was a "heavy fog" that significantly limited visibility. A quick "conference" with Ed resulted in the unanimous decision to forgo hunting, and "sleep in".

Our leisure morning culminated after sleeping in, and enjoying another hearty breakfast of thick sliced bacon (and I mean THICK), eggs, hash browns, toast, milk and orange juice over some relaxing and delightful conversation.

(That is the one thing that I miss most about Ed living in Duluth. We do keep up on the phone and the email, but nothing beats just sittin' down and shooting the breeze with an old friend over a meal, some drinks, or a cigar. This was one of the best mornings I have had in a very long time!)

After breakfast, with it still slightly foggy outside and the weather alternating between "damp" and "raining" we decided to call it a weekend. Ed was going to be staying longer than I was, so (because it is so much easier to get the boat in with two people (one on the ATV/Trailer - other in the boat)) we got the boat brought back to the cabin, cleaned, and stored away for the season. We cleaned up the cabin a bit. I packed my gear in the car, and we said our goodbyes.

I was on the road by 10:30 am, arriving home by 1:30. Because I was unable to make it out to the field anymore this year, this trip was the conclusion to my 2007 Duck / Squirrel / Grouse Hunting season.

(One last note I'd like to make. This trip was also the last of many trips to the cabin in my 1994 Teal Green Ford Escort. Just a week or so after this hunting trip, I made a “Road trip” to pick up my new (or new to me) 2000 Saturn SL1. Thanks to my Escort for many safe trips to and from Ed’s cabin over the years. I’m looking forward to a number of similar trips with the Saturn!)

Grey Squirrel Cobbler

In an attempt to "spice-up" the outdoor blog, I thought I would post a recepie (once and a while) that I would like to try!

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Grey Squirrel Cobbler.

3 cups squirrel meat - boned and cut into serving pieces
1 cup onions, sliced
4 tablespoons butter
1 cup turnips, skinned and cut into small dice
1/2 cup green pepper, diced
3 cups veal stock.
1 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon brown sugar
salt and pepper
2 lbs puff pastry for covered pies and cobblers

In a high-sided skillet, brown meat and onions together in butter over moderately high heat for 20 minutes, uncovered.

Add turnips and green peppers, reduce heat and simmer for an additional 20 minutes, uncovered.

Stock will have reduced by half.

Remove skillet from heat and stir in cinnamon, cayenne pepper and brown sugar.

Adjust seasonings with salt and pepper. After stock has cooled somewhat, fold in sour cream and blend thoroughly.

Preheat oven to 425. Pour entire mixture into a deep oven-proof casserole pan, 2-quart size or larger. Roll out dough to 1/2 inch thickness and place a dough lid on casserole dish.

Dough will rest on meat and sauce. Crimp edges and cut several steam vents. Bake for 30 minutes or until crust is nicely browned.

Serves 6.

Wild at the Table
dansmailoutdoors

From the "archives"

UPDATED 08-17-07 - See below for updates!

I have unearthed some older stories that I had typed up and printed out (but never saved). I had misplaced them, and subsequently thought they were forever "lost". Alas, while cleaning out some older files today I unearthed a couple of them!

I'll get them in here in due time, but they will be out of sequence. You will need to be satisfied with this one - for now.

I present to you the first of the new entries titled "Pheasant Hunting - 2005".

Update 05-17-07 - I present to you the next of the new entries titled "Fishing Trip - 1998"

Update 08-17-07 - I present to you the thrid of the new "old" articles titled "Duck and Grouse Hunting - 1998"

Enjoy!

Duck and Grouse Hunting - 1998

Now, remember folks, this was written nine years ago, and my second attempt at keeping a hunting journal. I found this entry (along with Fishing Trip - 1998) in my first hand-written hunting book. I copied it word for word - as is. I made not grmamatical changes (even though there were a few I felt I should have made).

I still may have one or two more stories from that book to type up and post here on the blog.

Enjoy.
David.

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Duck and Grouse Hunting
October 7-9 1998

We again made the pilgrimage to Ed’s cabin for duck hunting. This year we made it for the opener. Ed, Dave G, and I were in attendance.

The first day, Dave and I set up on the north end of the lake, behind the island and in the reeds. We saw a few ducks, but were unsuccessful in our hunt. Ed set up near the beaver dam, and got a couple of ducks. On the way back to the cabin, Ed discovered a problem with his outboard motor. It was running too warm, and the exhaust was full of steam. When we got back to the cabin, we ate breakfast, and then Dave began disassembling the outboard. When we hit the point where we could not find the problem, we took the outboard into Garrison for repair.

We spent the rest of the day grouse hunting. We saw and heard one grouse. Dave and I were unsuccessful. We also spent a lot of time hunting state grounds in the area. It felt like we had walked over a hundred miles, but we came up empty. The colors were so brilliant that to even try to describe them would not do them justice.

On the second day, having only one motor, the three of us ended up at the beaver dam. We saw nothing but beavers. After an unsuccessful morning, we returned to the cabin for breakfast and back to garrison to pick up the outboard. Later that afternoon, we spent more time grouse hunting, seeing and hearing about the same number of birds. We still came home empty handed.

It was the third and final day of the trip that proved to be most successful for me. Again the three of us set up at the beaver dam. Dave and I were in the center and Ed on the far west end of the dam. Ed called in a drake wood duck, but it would not come close enough for any of us to get a good shot off. It just swam around the bay watching our decoys from afar. Then, just as quick as we noticed it, it just stopped squeaking and disappeared. A couple of ducks flew by, and I managed to get one shot off, but did not drop the bird. Late in the morning, a big black crow flew by. Dave squeezed a shot off. He must have hit the crow. All we saw was “flap, flap, drop”, “flap, flap, drop”, “flap, flap, drop”… As the crow (unusually slow) made it’s way back to the wooded area just west of where we were hunting - about tree top height. Best as I could tell, the bird dropped through the canopy of the trees - never to be seen again. When we finally went in, we went grouse hunting again. We sure heard a lot more grouse this year, compared to most years. After yet another unsuccessful grouse hunt, we returned to the cabin. Later that afternoon, Dave and I went to walk the Little Thompson Trail. On the way down the trail, we ran into a hunter and his dog. He had a grouse in his hunting pouch. Well, I figured that we would into be able to find any birds after he had flushed anything out of the area. Dave and I walked until I could barley walk anymore. We stopped at a clearing and rested for a few minutes. After resting, we turned and headed back. At this point we were heading back to begin packing up and I remember being depressed about returning empty handed. Another year went by without any game to bring home. About a third of the way back, and guy in a pickup truck drove up the trail and stopped to visit. He claimed to have seen a bird up near the end of the trail. I remembered thinking that this pickup truck driving up the road just scared off our last opportunity to get a grouse this year. Just about two-thirds way back down the trail, I spotted a grouse sitting on a branch about one foot off the ground. (About 30 feet from me). Right away I put a bead on the bird, and slowly started walking towards the bird. It took off and started flying back into the woods, then BANG! I don’t remember seeing the bird drop. Dave told me that I did drop the grouse, so I went into the woods. I located the bird. MY FIRST GROUSE! I was so happy, but at the same time I felt slightly bad. I know just how bad Dave had wanted a grouse also. We made to the end of the trail, and then headed back to the cabin.

When we got back, Ed was gone. I had figured that he had gone grouse hunting on the ridge on their land. Dave laid down, and I began packing things up. We did hear shots off in the distance. It was not too much longer when Ed came back. Ed had gotten three grey squirrels. Ed took Dave and I back into the woods, were I cleaned my first grouse, and John (Ed’s Dad) cleaned the other grouse and the three squirrels.

By the time Dave, Ed and I had our things packed up; John was ready to cook up the game. We sat down and had “snacks” for the road home. This was my first taste of squirrel, and the second time I have had grouse. I was very delicious! I would (without a doubt) eat both again (and I look forward to doing so.)

Fishing Trip - 1998

This was the first trip I had planned with the boat since dad had given it to me earlier in the spring. This was also Jonathan’s first fishing trip ever. I took the boat to Lake Fannie near Cambridge, Minnesota. Benjamin (10 years old) and Jonathan (2 years old) were also with me. Both boys were very excited as we began our adventure. The day was beautiful, the sun was shining and the temperature was not too hot and not too cold. I got the bat packed up and we began our journey.

About three-quarters of the way there, we must have driven through a cloud of pollen. I began a sneezing fit that could only be described as uncontrollable. I was unable to stop. I was desperate to locate a gas station or a store that may sell allergy medication. I did finally locate a store (in Cambridge). By this time, “misery” would not begin to describe how I was feeling. I ran into the store and was taking the medication before I even made it to the checkout counter. At this point, every second counted. I was in such misery that I forgot to pick up bait. As we drove to the public access, I remembered this “minor detail”, but thought we could do some trolling. I got the boat packed, and began backing the boat into the water. I got the kids loaded, the boat off the trailer, the car parked and myself into the boat with no difficulties.

I began pulling the starter cord for the outboard. (I had tested the motor just weeks before the trip and it started just fine.) The outboard just would not start. I pulled and pulled to no avail. I choked and un-choked the motor. Nothing seemed to work. We drifted out into a weed patch. Other boaters were starting to “watch” us. After several minutes of trying to get the motor started I finally got it running (by giving the gas tank an extra prime or two) and we were off! Another few minutes went by without any trouble. The outboard then began sputtering (still running but sputtering). A few minutes later the problem was resolved when the fast idle knob was adjusted. This problem continued throughout the day, every few minutes – another adjustment.

We found a spot that looked like it might hold some fish, and dropped anchor. Without bait the fishing was poor. We did not even get a nibble. I thought trolling might produce more action, so we started trolling along the shore (still plagued by the idle screw). Things went fine for a while. We made it to the end of the lake and began turning back. On the way back, I let out more line and after a few seconds discovered that I had let out all the line on the spool. I looked behind the boat, and saw the lure floating on the surface of the water (along with several “loops” of the fishing line arcing out of the water) between the boat and the lure. I turned the boat around and cautiously made my way back to the line. Just when I thought I made it close enough to row, but far enough to not get the line tangled up in the prop, the line quickly disappeared under the water. Knowing exactly what just happened, I killed the motor and pulled up the prop. Just as I had expected, much of the line was around the prop. I did the best I could to untangle the line – discovering that somewhere in the middle of the line, it had been broken. I opened up the reel, tied what I thought was the correct line on to the reel, and began winding. Murphy’s Law would dictate that I did indeed have the wrong line (which I did). I detached the first line and retied the other line onto the reel. It was at that point that I realized that I did not feed the line thru the face of the reel, so I had to redo the whole process. When all was said and done, I had about twenty five percent of the line I had started with. Up to this point the boys were doing a fantastic job. Jonathan began falling asleep while sitting up. In his lifejacket, he looked like an underdeveloped turtle. As he fell asleep, his head began disappearing into his lifejacket, and because it was just big enough, the jacket held up his sleeping headless body. I had had enough. I decided to call it a day, and began heading back to the public access. I wanted to burn as much of the gas as possible so I began making large circles at full speed near the public access. The motor began bogging down ant this point. (Bad Gas – to the best of my determination.) We made it back to the public access alive, and unloaded the boat (uneventful).

On my way home, somewhere in Blaine, Mn. The car began to overheat and stall. We first stopped at a “Super America” along highway 65. I called Michele to let her know what was going on, and to let the car cool down. Thirty minutes later we were on the road again. This lasted until the car started stalling again somewhere on Interstate 35 near St. Paul. I just barley made it off the freeway when the car stalled again. The boys and I pulled over in a residential neighborhood and let the car cool for an additional 30 minutes. This seemed enough, so I started out again. I made it around the block before the car started stalling, so we stopped for another 30 minutes. By this time the car had cooled enough for me to get back on the freeway and (going very carefully) we made it to the 46 th St. exit off 35W in Minneapolis. The car once again started stalling, so I got off the freeway and pulled into a residential area – letting the car cool for yet another 30 minutes. After starting out again, I figured my best bet at this point was the side streets all the way home. I took Nicollet Ave South until I got to a stoplight on a steep incline, and (of course) the light turned red. The car stalled. I managed to nurse the car into a parking lot of a school, were we sat for another 30 minute cool-down. When I got brave enough to start out again, I stayed off Nicollet and took the side streets. We made it to about 62 nd St. when the car called one last time. One last 30 minute cool-down period, and we started out towards home again. We were able to make it from 62 nd and Nicollet to home without any further stalling of the car. Once I arrived home, I had an extra fifteen minutes before having to leave for work.

What an experience. I don’t know if I would change a thing. Both Benjamin and Jonathan were fantastic, and made this “terrible” trip “bearable”. It was fun watching Benjamin try to figure out what was wrong with the car, and Jonathan not sure what was going on, but trusting me enough to just go along with everything.

What a memory!

Pheasant Hunting - 2005

Saturday October 15, 2005 – Pheasant Hunting – Nawrocki Farm

Joe, Mike and I had decided on a date to do some Pheasant hunting on the farm. During the planning stages – it occurred to me that the Jonathan and Zachary (although not old enough to hunt yet) would love going along. I checked with Joe and Mike, and they liked it – then told the boys and they were climbing the walls with excitement for the week prior. Not long after – it was decided that Benjamin may be able to go, and the necessary arrangements were made (although he too would not be able to hunt). This would be the first trip I have made to the farm since Michele’s Uncle Jack did his wildlife rehab to the creek area.

We got our start and arrived at the farm about 10 am. We met up with Darwin before we went out (he owns the house where the farm building used to be) – and visited with him for a short time. He gave us some tips, and we head out.

The corn had not yet been harvested – so we knew ahead-of-time that the hunting would be poor.

We started hunting on the North side of the farm, along the property line where a couple of rows of corn was down. We made our way down to the creek, and then headed south between the West bank of the creek and the cornrows. About 2/3 the way back to the South boarder, we ran across 3 other hunters, hunting the farm. They claim to have been given permission from “???” the guy renting the farm from Jack. Nice enough guys – and they said they would leave so that we could hunt today. Not sure if that was the truth or not, but given the Chai Vang story last year, what are you going to do?

When we reached the south end of the farm, we used Darwin’s side of the fence to cross over the creek, and work our way back to the east bank of the creek, as we did so, Zachary fell into a sinkhole up to his knee. Mud covered every inch of his leg from the knee down, and oh, yeah… Did it smell!

We doubled back now on the East side of the creek, and made it all the way to the end, and crossed the creek on a small wooden “bridge” that made me a wee-bit nervous as I crossed it – but I did – without problems.

We decided to go for lunch, and return to the far South East corner of the property where some cornrows were removed after lunch.

As we walked west along the open cornrows, we saw nothing. We rested a bit when we reached the end, and then double-backed along the same path. We sent the boys thru a small strip of corn between the road and the fields that were still standing, and as they reached the end, they flushed out two deer. I did not get to see them, but Mike (who was between the corn and the road) said that they crossed in front of him and headed south into the next cornfield.

When we finished hunting, we did have some fun shooting the guns. Mike started off by showing the boys how “loud” a 20 gauge sounds, and then I showed them a 12 gauge. Joe also put a round thru his 12 gauge. I let each of the boys (Jonathan and Zachary) have a turn with the 20 gauge. Jonathan first – could just barely reach the front of the gun. I helped him steady it, and he fired it. Zachary was a little more nervous, and tried to fire the gun with one hand on the trigger and the other plugging his ear. (I was steadying the gun). I did not allow him to do so, and he eventually fired the gun correctly. Once his initial fear was over, he did not have any other problems. We plunked away with a .22 for quite some time, and I do believe that the boys really enjoyed that.

Uncle Mike did observe how disappointed Ben looked while everyone had their turn shooting, but I for one was VERY PROUD of how he handed it. Benjamin has shown lots of maturity in the past year, and this was one perfect example. I too know how much he would have loved a turn, but the rules prohibited it, and he followed the rules to the tee. I was very proud of him for that!

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We decided we would have to come back and try again after the corn has been harvested.

The Boat

I thought I would give the Outdoor Journal a little needed boost.

Let me tell you a little bit about my boat. It was given to me by my father around 1995 or 1996 (I dont recall the date) as a birthday gift. My father owned the boat (I believe) since it was new, and bought the outboard motor used. For many, many years the boat was left upside down, and chained to a tree on a "deeded access" landing on Lake Marie, near Annandale, Minnesota. As a very young child I remember going to the lake access and seeing the boat laying there. Not too long after my parents bought their home in Bloomington (circa 1977) they brought the boat home, where it sat (upside down on it's trailer) for most (if not all) of the next (about) 10 years.

About the time I graduated high school (1987), had my own car that would haul the boat, and had a place to take it (Ed's cabin), he convinced me to break it out, fix it up, and get it out and about.

Ed and I replaced the rotten transom board, got it licensed, and took it out a few times. It sat for another (about) three years, and I broke it out to take my (then) girlfriend (now) wife and her younger brother out on a date (circa 1991 or 1992). I again got the boat "sea worthy", and had it out one time on Lake (?) in Eden Prarie. Then packed away again until (I suspect) my Dad got sick of looking at it parked in his yard, and (since I now had my own home - and a place to park it) he gave to to me as a Birthday Gift.

I have (since then) taken it out at least once (and seldom more than that) almost every year. Last year the boat never saw water, but the outboard was used (during Duck Hunting). For the first time EVER, the outboad "acted up" a bit, and I had a hard time starting, and keeping it running. That was until the (original) starter cord broke while I was trying to restart it. After hunting, the outboard got put back on it's stand, and there it still awaits some TLC.

Here are some details.

The Boat: 1968 16' aluminum Chrysler row boat. (I have the ORIGINAL manual.)

The trailer: 1974 Sears

The Outbard: 1955 Evinrude Fleetwin 7.5hp Aquasonic Model 7518 (I have the ORIGINAL manual)

Trolling Motor: Sea King (I have no further info - my father in law bought it at a garage sale. I have never applied current to it, so I am not sure it works or not. )

I'll try and post more specifics if I can, but that is the story of "My Boat"

See my previous Post...

See my previous post titled Deer Hunting 2004

I have seen a full sized doe that looked just like this (only larger) and in a natural setting (not someone's living room). A co-worker sent me these photos, and I was INSTANTLY taken back...