Urban Outcast Music #36 - The Things I Regret by Brandi Carlile
It didn't result in much protein for the freezer but Oak and I managed four bird trips to Eastern Washington this season. Incompetence was only partially to blame as we left the comfort of our favorite haunts and ventured out to new (sometimes charred) ground.
Round 1: The Larch Hunt
This is ancient history now but in early November we headed up to the property to look for grouse. It was a perfect morning for walking in the woods but the few grouse that Oak flushed were in such deep cover that only the sound gave them away. We tried all of the promising spots and then the less promising ones but came up empty handed. The best find of the trip were 5 larch trees hiding at the base of "The Knob"! I had been eyeing the larches across the creek for two seasons and pondering the effectiveness of gathering larch cones for transplanting. It was very exciting to see these beautiful trees already established and I will be sabotaging their neighbors so that they can reach their full potential. Of course, now it occurs to me that I will be waiting until next fall to do anything about it because I cannot spot these trees in their green phase...
Round 1: The Larch Hunt
I gave Oak the afternoon off and went to work on a grand fir with my bow saw (still only have a chainsaw in my dreams). Eventually the tree was down and cut into rounds that I could drag to the truck for a year's supply of marshmallow roasting fuel.
Our final task for the day was to start construction of a meandering trail through the 15 acres of wetlands. Since I always end up crawling through it, I want at least one escape route that doesn't involve meeting a bear nose to nose. A couple hours of effort netted us about 75 yards of a trail that only a grouse would find spacious but Oak got a pretty good start on mulching the brush.
Round 2: The Thief Hunt
For Thanksgiving Wednesday we returned to the Desert unit to look for ducks and pheasants. The wrinkle for this trip is that I wanted to follow my normal stream to its mouth at Potholes lake. Along the way we dropped one rooster onto the other side of the water but despite Oak's repeated swims across, the bird couldn't be found. We marked it on the GPS and continued downstream, flushing deer but no more birds.
Right at the lake, Oak pulled off his first solo hunt by flushing a red tailed hawk off of a duck. Tragically for the duck he was still alive while the hawk had been working in from his back. It was a little gruesome but the breast meat was still good. Into the bag went the bird and we only had to deal with some minor indignation from the hawk. Back at home I found that it had been a really bad week for that duck as he had also been shot...
Lake is a little misleading for what we found. The lake was at the lower edge of its maintained range so we found a lot of barely connected ponds and the familiar sand dunes. What was unfamiliar and joyous were the hordes of ducks flying back and forth. With that many eyes, we weren't sneaking up on any of them but I did get one teal that flew a little too close.
Round 3: The Frosty Hunt
Phase 2 of the grand plan was to march across two miles of sand to get back on a stream. Definitely one of those ideas that is better when you are plotting it at your desk... We ran into a bunch more pheasants but the high winds were making so much noise in the reeds and messing with Oak's nose that he looked more confused than I have ever seen him. Near the end of the loop a rooster came out to the edge of the cattails, 5 yards from Oak working away in the brush and doubled back behind him before diving back. Back at the truck we lightened the load and approached the GPS dot of the lost rooster (from the right side of the stream). Just before we got there, I dropped another rooster and despite another half hour of searching we couldn't find either downed bird. I'm going to hope we found a particularly brilliant bird that realized if he hits the dirt, the shooting stopped (and he fooled me twice). On the walk of shame back to the truck, lightning struck twice and Oak flushed a small hawk or falcon off of a dead woodpecker. We did not eat that one.
Round 3: The Frosty Hunt
New ground, new hope. Although that hope was cut in half when we got enough light to see that all of the ponds/lakes were frozen solid. Over 9 miles walked without a shot fired but Oak had pheasants airborne in the first 3 minutes and kept up a pretty steady stream of hen pheasants and quail. At one point he flushed a rooster up into a tree and even with his cackling, I couldn't get deep enough into the thicket before he wised up. A light dusting of snow also let us see very recent activity including this pheasant being stalked by a coyote (although I really hope I've got it backwards and there is a coyote killing pheasant out there).
For the afternoon we headed downhill to see if we could find some open water along Crab Creek. Even if you don't see birds, its a great place to be strolling and checking out the formations and steep valley walls.
The plan worked to the extent that we repeatedly saw some spooky ducks jumping way out in front of us. A recent fire meant that the only cover was right against the creek but luckily that was plenty for a wily rooster to be hiding and my one shot for the day dropped him. Oak and I both thought he was deep in the brush but about 30 seconds later he came floating down the creek. It took a surprising amount of hollering to get Oak back but he was excited to demonstrate the trademark lab lunge from the sand bank.
Round 4: The Walking Dead
Father Time came out to visit after Christmas and he brought his pack of dogs so that they could see some quail and ducks. I was on the tail end of my three weeks of fever and he was coming down with what turned out to be pneumonia so we were not operating at full strength. I won't commit all of our failings to writing but I think the above picture is a good example of our slowed wit - if you have three pointers on a solid point, you do not have your gun on your shoulder or a camera in your hand... Regardless it was great to share my home turf with the old man and I hope to convince him to return for a rematch soon. Maybe a little earlier in the season when some of the lower IQ birds are still about.
The two noteworthy events were a porcupine attack and a piebald deer. The porcupine did not like being followed into its den by two of the old man's dogs and the little brittany got the worst of it with many quills through her lip and some buried in the gums... Thankfully Oak and I have avoided this kind of field operation, it is no fun for any of the involved. The piebald deer was spotted in the early light as we were headed to our last hunt. I thought she was an albino or a goat... but she was running with mule deer and my dad had heard of this particular recessive gene. Apparently it is present in about 2% of whitetail deer but beyond the dangers of a high vis coat, the gene also comes with some genetic abnormalities so it is very rare to see one of these deer live to maturity. This was a first for both of us and almost as good as spotting Bigfoot.
