Sometimes, It's a Long Hard Hunt

This hunting season has been very slow for me. With my injury that happened just three days before early goose season, getting out and about has been quite the chore. But it is always worth it. I have never had a hunt where I said "I wish I would have just stayed home". But, this past week, I came very close.

A friend of mine made his way up from North Carolina to do some Michigan duck hunting. He moved away from Michigan a few years back, but the waterfowl hunting out by him just isn't the same as it is here in Michigan. So, a couple of months ago he called me up and said he wanted to make a trip up here and told me to keep an eye out on the duck reports so we could have an awesome hunt. I was pumped when the time grew near.

He arrived in Michigan and took a quick power nap, then called me up for an evening hunt. He had always wanted to hunt the Holloway Reservoir, a place where he grew up fishing. I had never been there, but from what he described, it sounded like a duck haven. After a little research, I found a few forums that talked about the hunting out there, and there were a few success stories. Game on.

We got to the primitive launch site and dropped the boat in. It was pretty rocky, so we walked the boat the first 50 or so yards. After that it was smooth sailing. We reached the other side of the reservoir and found our spot, but the water level was very low. Time to test out the Mudd Buddy. We zipped across the remaining water until we got within 30 yards of where we were going to set up, then the mud changed. It went from sloppy mud to thick clay-like mud. So we got out again and pulled the rest of the way. We set up on a little point surrounded by cattails and a nice cross wind. After setting out a small spread, we brushed up the boat and got ready. everything was perfect and in place. But one thing was missing. Ducks. It was two hours before we saw our first birds, and they we a faint vision on the horizon. Every duck from then on followed the same flight path.

I was scanning the horizon when my buddy said to me "Hey. Wasn't that cinder block over there under water when we were setting decoys?". "I hope not" I replied. There was only about 30 minutes of shooting light left, so we watched to see if the water dropped any more. Then, he said he needed to use the little boys room. Now, anyone that has any experience hunting knows that the second you go to relieve yourself, whatever you are hunting will come out at that exact moment, stick out it's tongue and wave, then make it's way back out of sight. I told him that the second he stepped out of the boat, the ducks would come in. But he really had to go. Sure enough, the second his foot hit the water, a pair of woodies came in from behind. He scrambled back into the boat, but we were made and the pair got out of there. And that was the extend of our action. Last light came and our hunting was over.

But the story does not end there. Oh no, not at all. As we looked out of the boat, we noticed that more of the cinder block was indeed showing. The reservoir was being drained while we were in it. And when we stepped out of the boat, our boots hit ground and not water. It took almost 30 minutes to get the boat moved over to water that was float-able. As we made our way to our spread, we noticed that some of our decoys we actuality starting to tip because the keels were touching the bottom. Not good. Now for the trip out. Now, keep in mind that I am freshly out of a cast and am not supposed to be walking without a brace, let alone walking through a marsh dragging a boat. we wound up dragging (not floating) the boat probably around 100 yards or so. We finally reached float-able water and jumped in. We are now home free. Well not quite. We made our way back through the canals looking for our launch. But it was no where to be found. We drove up and down those canals, but just could not find it. Then it hit us. We had to drag the boat when we put it in because it was too shallow. And since the water had dropped, that canal was probably land locked. After some searching, we found another primitive boat launch and parked the boat. My friend then had a nice little walk to try to find the other boat launch and his truck. What a night. Then, to top it off, we were standing on the back of his tilt trailer to get the boat loaded and I stepped on one of the tail lights instead of the frame. The light had no chance against me and instantly broke.

All in all, I was glad to get out and hunt somewhere new. But, I was real close to saying those eight little words....

My First Regular Season Duck Hunt/MacGyver Boot

For those of you that haven't read my previous blogs, I have been down for the count since a few days before early goose season with a broken leg. I have made it out a few times but, because of other complications, I was only able to get out a few times. And it was on a pond in my buddies back yard. It was fun, but it's just not the same as actually getting out in the field.

Well, I got a call from my friend Mike and he asks if I want to head out with him and another good friend, Randy. From my reaction, anyone around must have thought that I had just gotten a call from the Lotto Commission. I quickly told him I would love to go, and he gave me a time to meet them.

I went up to my hunting closet and started to get all of my gear together. It felt too good to grab my duck jacket, my trusty auto-loader, and my blind bag to go hunting and not just to move them. But then I came across a problem. While we were going to be hunting from shore, any waterfowler will tell you that at some point, you will get wet. I am still wearing an immobilizing boot, and it will not fit in or around it. I had to make something that would not come off and would be waterproof, and not just for a bit. The weather channel was calling for rain for the rest of the day, so what ever I did had to last. But what could pull of such a feat? Duct tape? Even better. Gorilla Tape. MacGyver, eat your heart out. I made a single layer "boot" out of this stuff and it worked like a charm. It rained all day and I even took a spill at the water's edge, yet my foot was dry at the end of the night. So, add Gorilla Tape to that list of thing's to keep in the blind bag.

On to the hunt. We set up on the shoreline of a small lake that is a local favorite for ice fishing. Mike and Randy had been out squirrel hunting and noticed a good number of wood ducks on the back side of this lake, so they decided to check it out. After a little scouting, they picked out a few good blind spots, and a new hunting spot was born. After throwing out a small decoy spread, we sat back up in the weeds and began the wait. And the majority of the night was just that. Unfortunately, we were hunting a small lake that backs up to a larger lake. And on that larger lake were some over zealous duck hunters. So, most of what came by us was moving at mach 5 and on a mission. Over all it was a good spot, it was just the wrong time. And there is no such thing as a "bad time" in the blind. There are just those that you get to pull the trigger a little bit more.

Another Update

It has been some time since my last blog entry, so I figured I should put up a little update. Since the last entry, I have gotten a few new casts, putting my cast count up to eight. I guess I am a little hard on casts. I even had the nurse that put most of my casts on threaten me with a pink cast if I were to break any more. She kept true to her word. My seventh cast was neon pink, which my daughter loved.

My leg is healing wonderfully, with the only complication being that I lost most of the feeling in my left leg from the knee down. The feeling is coming back, though. The numbness is only in about half of my foot, from the middle of the foot to the toes.

I am also now out of the casts and into an immobilizing boot, which I will be in for another month or so. After that I have an appointment with a neurosurgeon to address the nerve issues. Yeah, not gonna happen. Color me old fashioned, but I just don't trust someone cutting and manipulating the nerves around my spine.

As for now, I am still pretty much out of the hunting game until I get the okay from my doctor. I was able to get out for opening day of waterfowl season. Once again, my good friend Brent came to the rescue and took me out to a blind that overlooks a pond behind his house. We didn't see a ton of birds, but I did get to pull the trigger plenty. I unfortunately shot the worst I have shot in a long time. I am going to chalk it up to the lack of practice this year.

Hopefully, I will get the okay to get out before the firearm opener here in Michigan. On a different note, if anyone has experience modifying a boot immobilizer to fit on the outside of waders, please email me.

It Feels Good to Get Out

Well, last week I got yet another new cast, and this one was going to be my salvation. I was getting a walking cast that I could actually walk on. I have had a walking cast for a while, but it was just because I kept breaking them and they needed something that could stand up to the awesome power the is me. But this one was for real. And when the doctor came in and told me, I couldn't help but grin ear to ear.

The second I got home, I started making the plan to get out. My brother in law was out hunting, so I called him to make sure that we weren't going to be hunting the same land. He told me he was actually heading in and going to grab his son, and that they would swing by and pick me up. Rock on.

So I gathered up all of my gear and waited. I felt like a kid in bed on Christmas Eve. I must have gone through my gear a dozen times while waiting. Then I heard the car pull up in the driveway. The closest thing I can use to describe my actions was they were similar to that of a dog that knows it's master just came home from work. I had completely forgot about my leg. I had not taken any pain medication as I did not want to go into the woods with a firearm while feeling those effects. But, for the moment, the pain could not have any farther from my mind.

As we are getting ready, my brother in law got a phone call. It was his work, and guess who was called in? Well, it looks like it's going to be just my nephew and myself. We can do this. So, my wonderful wife drops us off in the back of 7 Lakes State Park, and we make our way into the woods. I can feel my heart pounding to the point where I can hear it. We cross the wood line into the woods and pick out a nice log to sit on and wait. After about 25 minutes, we move to another spot. After another 25 minutes and nothing, we move again. The rest of our night went about the same. We would wait 25 minutes or so and move to the next spot, seeing the occasional hunter and a few crows. By the end of the hunt, we had made it all the way to the front of the park, and we only saw one chipmunk.

The next day, I was in more pain than I had been in for a long time. And it was more than worth it. Not only did I get a young hunter out, but I myself felt like a new hunter going out for the first time.

Early Season Blues

We all have our "thing". For some people it's shopping. For others, it's gambling, or alcohol, or newborn babies, or any other number of things. It's that thing you live for. The one thing that, no matter how bad things are going, will lift you up. Make you whole. For me, that one thing is waterfowling. Now, don't get me wrong. I love hunting and the outdoors. But there is just something about waterfowling that makes me whole. I would even venture to say that it borders on a religious experience.

And nothing has driven that thought home any farther than this week. If you have read my previous blog, you know that I had a mishap with a deer blind and broke my leg. So here I sit. First two days of early goose season. I should be in a blind with good friends. But I am not. And, from what they and their pictures tell me, this is the beginning of an awesome season. Mike and his group have put down more that 30 birds in the last 34 hours, one of them with a band. Now, I don't want this to sounds like I am angry. I find some comfort in knowing that they are out enjoying the sport that I love so much. But I can't help but to be jealous.

In the last 48 hours, I have felt a void that I have not felt in years, not since I started hunting. I guess it is true about what they say about "not knowing what you have until it is gone". And it's not even gone. It has simply been delayed. I know that the cast will be off by firearm deer season, so I will have some regular season waterfowling to do. And if my cast "modification" idea works, I might even be able to be in field by mid next week. But that is still a week away. A week of a two week season.

To pass the time, I have tried to read up on decoy spreads, shooting tips, and any other information I can bring up on my computer screen. If I can gain more knowledge about the sport that I am missing, the I will be all the better when I recover. But I still find my mind drifting to despair. I know you probably think this sounds like a little kid throwing a tantrum. And you would be right. That's what I feel like. Our adult lives are based on what we can control. Your entire being revolves around what you make happen, be it the littlest detail or a life altering decision. And while it was my bonehead move that put me into this predicament, I fell as if I have lost all control. Like maybe there is something I am missing. Something I can be doing to make this better. But in the end I know that I just have to be patient. When this is all said and done, there will be more seasons. This is not the end, but it sure does feel like it.

Getting Ready For Deer Season; Season is Already Over

This past weekend, I headed north with a friend of mine (and two new friends) to work on some property that we are going to be hunting this year. Now, for those of you that know me, I have never shot a deer. In fact, I have never even seen a deer while deer hunting. When I am small game hunting, I dang near trip over them, but never when I am chasing the great Whitetail.

We started off by tilling up a few small plots (maybe 1/3 acre) that had been planted with clover earlier, but he didn't remove the oak leaves before he tilled, making it very acidic. Unfortunately, about half way down the trail, the drive belt snapped on the tiller. So, the rest of the day was up to us and our trusty rakes. Fun. After the leaves were picked up, we laid down a hefty helping of lime, followed by more clover, another random blend, then some neutral fertilizer. On to the next plot.

The next one wasn't nearly as bad. No leaves here. The clover here is coming up pretty well. The problem we were having was lack of sunlight. We had to remove some trees, but which ones? The problem we faced was the types of trees we were dealing with. The majority were white oak and cedar, with a few poplar in between. The poplar can go no problem, but the white oak and cedar are two major attractants for deer. So, after careful consideration, we cut a select few, making a few funnels with the fallen trees as we go. Now it's time to cut the shooting lanes for this plot. Next to this plot is the shooting house called "the condo", mainly because of the room you have to move around, and the Lay-Z-Boy chair that has replaced the overturned bucket. Part of this trip was to install another window on the one side so you would also have a shot into the food plot about 40 yards away, as well as the on in front of the shooting house. After an hour or so of clearing, we are good to go. But just to make sure, we all pile into the shooting house to check for ourselves. And it is in the next 30 seconds that my season ended before it even started.

As everyone piles out of the shooting house and down that ladder, someone made the comment about being careful coming down the ladder. Which is always a good idea, but how bad could you really get hurt falling from this thing? The top step is only at five foot at the most. So I start to make my way down. The, the next thing I know, maybe four foot off the ground, I'm falling. I don't know how it happened, but it did. I tried to bring my legs down, but my right foot became caught in the ladder, leaving my left leg the only one to break my fall. And that it did. The second I hit the ground, I heard the "crack!" come from somewhere in my lower leg. My buddy yells, "what the hell just happened?! Did you fall?". To which another friend replies, "yeah, he did. I tried to catch him, but it happened too fast.". "Are you all right?". Not wanting to ruin the rest of the work we still had before us, I replied, "Yeah. I'm fine. I just need to move around so it doesn't get stiff. I can walk this one off". With the adrenaline and initial shock, the pain was not bad at all, so I just kept working. But after a bit, each step became harder and harder, until eventually it was too much and I had to sit the rest of the day out. The other guys worked like madmen trying to get the rest of the work done so we could get out of there, and after a couple more hours, all of the work was done. Well, everything aside from the window because Brent forgot to bring the hinges and enough OSB (I told you I wouldn't let you forget that move :)). After that, we made our way back down south, with a little side trip to drop me off at one of the local hospitals. So, I sit here writing this on opening day of early goose season with a cast that will be with me for quite some time and my broken tibia. But all is not lost yet. I'm working on an idea for and epoxy coating and Mossy Oak Duck Blind burlap for the new cast I get next week. Wish me luck...