Thursday, December 6. 2007
Call for quote. No bag limits, and no licenses required. - Posted by Roger de H.
Thursday, November 22. 2007
Would you call this an easy shot, an average shot, a long shot, or out of range? (although it's moot, in fact, because you do not want to drop a bird in those tules because you'll never find it. Shoot them when they are over open water.) A flock of Mallards as seen from my duck boat, a couple of weeks ago:
Wednesday, November 21. 2007
Video: How to melt your machine gun barrel. The manual recomments 5-10 round bursts, not 5-10 meter belts.
 That's Yankee, our friend's Large Munsterlander pup, retrieving a large, heavy Canada Goose:
Tuesday, November 20. 2007
 I think we linked this piece once, but I can't remember. It's from Munchkin Wrangler (h/t, Right Wing Prof), and begins thus:
Human beings only have two ways to deal with one another: reason and force. If you want me to do something for you, you have a choice of either convincing me via argument, or force me to do your bidding under threat of force. Every human interaction falls into one of those two categories, without exception. Reason or force, that's it.
In a truly moral and civilized society, people exclusively interact through persuasion. Force has no place as a valid method of social interaction, and the only thing that removes force from the menu is the personal firearm, as paradoxical as it may sound to some.
When I carry a gun, you cannot deal with me by force. You have to use reason and try to persuade me, because I have a way to negate your threat or employment of force. The gun is the only personal weapon that puts a 100-pound woman on equal footing with a 220-pound mugger, a 75-year old retiree on equal footing with a 19-year old gangbanger, and a single gay guy on equal footing with a carload of drunk guys with baseball bats. The gun removes the disparity in physical strength, size, or numbers between a potential attacker and a defender.
Read the whole thing. Here's a nice piece on handgun selection for self-defence.
Monday, November 19. 2007
Some things in life are foolish, inconvenient, uncomfortable, sometimes dangerous and often plain frustrating. Duck hunting is one of those things, work is another, and blogging is another, but a guy's gotta do what he's got to do. Photo is a two weeks ago. As you can see, the weather was a little bit too good for ducks, but we knocked down a few. 
Sunday, November 18. 2007
Chincoteague and Assateague. Looks like a good winter hunting destination, and probably a bit warmer than December up here.
 A good day in the field. Cold as heck putting up the decoys in the dark, in the lights of the pick-up, but it was warmer by 9.
The bulk of the flocks came in to the field from the lake, where they sleep, at the break of dawn. Some of these birds will be Christmas dinner. The rest will be other dinners. Goose is an under-appreciated fowl. It has to be cooked right.
Saturday, November 17. 2007
 Talking about autumn foliage is about as cornball, old-fogie a subject as I can think of, but this fall has been the best in my memory. Since New England has been spared heavy rains, windstorms, and Nor'easters thus far, the leaves are still on the trees in many areas. A visual feast wherever you look, and nourishing food for the soul. It's uplifting, exhilarating, and it reminds me to be grateful for being alive.
Life is wonderful, despite being poor (statistically I am one of America's "poor" - which bothers me not one whit: just a humble, underpaid journalist junior reporter at a smallish newspaper). I love this brisk autumn weather which leads the spirit to thoughts of thanks-giving. Life is good. I am going to cook the bird I shot this morning (with my Gramp's 20 ga. Parker) on lentils with shallots and gibier sauce, for my current chick beautiful, intelligent, super-special gal. Wish I had a bottle of Jarhead Red to relax her, but I have something else. (I mean a bottle.) Try to tell me that I am poor! I am blessed. Poverty is a state of mind.
Friday, November 16. 2007
 Canada Goose-looking birds come in widely different sizes and ornithologists, who love obsessing about taxonomy, have a lot of fun with the subject.
The subject comes up because we shot quite a few Cacklers in Canada in October, which were probably what we used to call Hutchins' or Richardsons' Goose. These birds are high-Arctic breeders, and only winter on the East coast as rare vagrants. Bird Dog says he has seen them occasionally on the East coast. Their CLO link here. Photo: Canada Goose with Cackling Goose For the part of the Wikipedia entry which reviews all of the taxonomy, see continuation page below.
Continue reading "Goose of the Week: Cackling Goose"
Monday, November 12. 2007
Thursday, November 8. 2007
Winslow Homer, 1892 
Wednesday, November 7. 2007
Saturday, November 3. 2007
 Waterfowl Tomorrow:US Dept of Interior, Fish and Wildlife Svc.
JP Linduska, Editor, 1964
Ducks, Geese and Swans of North America
Frank Bellrose
Stackpole Books, 1976 Flyways - Pioneering Waterfowl Management in North AmericaEdited by AS Hawkins, RC Hanson, HK Nelson, HM Reeves
US Dept of the Interior, Fish and Wildlife Service, 1984 Prairie Wetland Ecology
Edited by HR Murkin, AG van der Valk, WR Clark
Iowa State University Press, 2000
Thursday, November 1. 2007
A thanks to Jim at Wild Goose Lodge on PEI for the loyal support of Ducks Unlimited. Many satisfied customers.
Sunday, October 28. 2007
We are. I like this one, but it might be overkill.
 We believe that an unarmed home is a potentially dangerous place. As with fire insurance, you just hope you'll never need to use it.
"Shoot first" laws are growing in the US, making life tougher for bad guys. However, Bruce notes that some people would prefer being victims. I think that is the height of irresponsibility: protecting yourself and your family is the most basic duty in life.
Saturday, October 27. 2007
In Maine, last week. I should say "pa'tridge", not "grouse." In Maine, Ruffed Grouse are "partridge". In Canada, grouse are often referred to as "chickens." Hunting grouse is rough on one's legs. Famous soap opera star on the right. 
Thursday, October 18. 2007
A re-post from the distant past 
You think your dog is smart? Or do you think you are smart? Jim was famous in the 1930s, and not just for finding coveys of quail: "Such were Jim's powers that he could even look into the future and foretell coming events. For seven years in a row he was shown a list of entries in the Kentucky Derby, and picked the winner each time in advance of the race. With equal ease he could correctly predict the sex of babies yet unborn. In 1936, just before the World Series games were played, Van Arsdale, in the presence of friends, placed before Jim two pieces of paper upon which the names of the teams had been written. He explained, "Jim, I have here the names of the two teams that will be playing in the World Series. Will you show us the one that will win?" Jim placed a paw on the slip bearing the word "Yankees." Later events proved him correct." Read the whole thing, by Henry Ferguson in Rural Missouri
Limits on Canada Goose in a hayfield one morning last week: 
Decoys at sunset: 
Wednesday, October 17. 2007
Friday, October 12. 2007
 The WSJ has the old-timey story of the Southside Sportsmen's Club in the 1880s, and Long Island's fishing secret - the Connetquot River, which holds large sea-run (and hatchery) trout.
I am fortunate to have fished that stream. (Reservations required, and barbless hooks, which I prefer anyway for all fishing purposes.) Henninger's piece Where Big Fish Caught Big Trout, begins thus: Assume you are a wage slave in New York City. As respite, you favor the joys of fishing streams for large trout. You have a couple of choices. Travel 2,206 miles to the banks of the Madison River in Montana, or thereabouts. Plan B: Early on a weekday morning, load your car with a flyrod, stream waders and a box of flies, drive some 57 miles out of New York City on the old Southern State Parkway into Long Island, turn in at Connetquot State Park, in Oakdale, walk to your reserved "beat" on the Connetquot River, fat with rainbows, brookies and browns. Oh, and there's a bonus: You will have arrived at the living heart of the politics and history of the Empire State.
Read the whole thing (link above). Photo above: A big Brown we caught on the Connetquot last September. Below, my photo of my beat on the stream that day. 
Wednesday, October 10. 2007
Ducks in the AM, Ruffed Grouse in the woods or Sharptails on the prairie after lunch, then ducks again in the evening. Then it's cocktail hour. A very fine trip, if the weather is nasty and the ducks are flying. But, of course, if the weather is nasty it doesn't work for grouse. I prefer the grouse, in a way, because sitting fatigues me. The lodge:  The dock in the lodge's front yard: 
Saturday, October 6. 2007
Time to pull in the decoys and head the boat back to the barn. 
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