Four Winds pheasant 2008

Today I snuck Isaac out of school to go hunting while his mother and the
rest of the kids were in New York with the Pope.
       We hunted the Four Winds Pheasant Club in San Jacinto with our
trusty pointer, Victor.  It was Isaac's first hunting excursion and he did
really well.  We had the entire facility to ourselves.  We were greeted by
Lee and her husband Ruben, who gave us our field and essentially, the run of
the whole club.  There was no wind and it got hot early.  The grass was
pretty high and there were foxtails in many of the fields, which made it
hard on our metropolitan dog, so we stuck with the greenest field closest to
the shack. The shack is virtually obscured by swarms of flies the size of
Milk Duds.
       Early into the hunt, Victor pointed on several birds that flushed so
perfectly that we had to let them get away, though our guns were blazing at
the empty spots adjacent to the fleeing creatures. One of the pheasants that
escaped our warning shots was snagged by a huge red-tailed hawk that left us
the head of that rooster, just to show us who the real hunters were.
       We started to settle down and hit our targets (mostly chukar).
Victor got pretty winded and was gagging on brush after a few passes through
the field, even though we kept him watered down.  After a while, we put him
in the shade with some cool water and started exploring adjacent fields that
burped out a few more stray birds onto the gravel road between the fields,
where we spotted them and gave chase.  Isaac did a good job of spotting
birds and made some excellent shots with his 20 gauge auto. Being less of a
sportsman, I went with the double 12 gauge Weatherby, which I had the good
sense to modify by welding on a bayonet lug.  I found I was more accurate at
that range.  Once they are impaled on the end of the blade, you really can't
miss them when you pull the trigger.

    
   Ruben and Lee were very patient with us hanging around the fields to
pick off stragglers. They did a great job of cleaning our birds, as our
exhausted dog watched their satellite TV with an ice bag on his head and
sucked on a large tropical cocktail. While our hosts and dog were so
occupied, Isaac and I uploaded slugs and snuck over the barbed wire to try
and shoot one of the dairy cows from the next ranch over so we could have a
mixed grill.  The dairy farmer got pissed, even though I showed him the cow
stamp on the back of my hunting license.  The guy was a real grouch about
it, so we decided to let him keep his damned cow.  Like he doesn't already
have enough.  I am not sure we could have got it onto the roof rack anyway,
because we were pretty tired from the dogless chasing of dangerous birds.
When we got home, Victor got a nice scented bath and massage.  He is now
reclining on his dog bed with an FDR style cigarette holder as I type this
report.
 Tomorrow evening, we are forcing our neighbors to come over to eat some of
the jumbo squid and tunas we have previously slain, along with smoked
chuckar and roasted pheasant now marinating in anticipation of their own
invitation to this feed.
       We only feed our neighbors things that we kill, which is why that
cow would have really balanced the meal.  Better than that
missing-cat-casserole we had to whip up for the neighbors when the fish
didn't bite before the last barbecue.  I didn't have the heart to tell them
just to take down the sign taped to the gate, offering that reward, with no
questions asked.  They did get some of it back, along with the sherbet we
fed them after the meal to cleanse their palates.  Good times.
These are the days.

pheasant and chupacabra 2007

Bob Carlson, his son John and their dog Cole joined my son Isaac, our dog Victor and I on a pheasant hunting trip to the Four Winds Pheasant Club in San Jacinto to kick off this years upland bird club season.

     The weather was seasonally appropriate - with temperatures just below freezing to start off the sunrise, followed by the beginning of a Santa Ana wind that brought clear skies and a warming breeze by mid-day.

      It was Cole's first hunting excursion.  He is a tall, one year old black lab pup that displayed all of the youthful enthusiasm and easy distraction one expects from a learning dog.  He followed Victor around as Victor did a good job of tracking, stalking and holding point on lively birds that didn't want to stay put.  Victor's stamina was noticeably better than last year, when he was benched as a result of inhaling a foxtail early into the hunt. This time, we took frequent breaks so that he could recharge his nose and his enthusiasm.

      We also fared better as shooters on this occasion.  We were able to get all 12 birds that flushed for us, which was a significant improvement over the birds that escaped our hail of gunfire on the last hunt we were on.

      This was Isaacs second time shooting at live targets and he is getting much steadier.  He is now over 100 pounds and is long enough to handle the full size Berretta 12 gauge auto I brought our for him to try.  He mostly stuck with his 20 gauge Remington auto in the field, since it is a really quick swing.

      After we got our birds, we were able to relax and shoot some trap

with the club's clay thrower while our charming hostess Melanie cleaned our birds. She did a great job and was as friendly and helpful as ever, stopping in to check on us while we took tailgate breaks back at the truck in between walks.

      When we got home, we gave Victor and our car a much needed bath, before I set into a frantic "iron chef" cooking assault to prepare the six pheasant we took home for the neighbors and my folks.  I prepared the birds a few different ways. I even got my mom, who professes to hate the idea of hunting, to wolf down a few platefuls and then take home some more in a foil doggy pouch.

      We were too tired to clean the guns, which I left out so the three year old boys would have something with which to distract themselves while the adults enjoyed after-dinner beverages in the warm Santa Ana night.  This turned out to be fortuitous, because the hill behind our house began to give off some eerie noises.  The little boys got quite scared, because they recognized the sounds as the peculiar yip of coyotes, which they fear as a neighborhood animal that is perfectly willing to eat them.

      They began crying for me to get the guns out of the cases and shoot the coyotes.  We were knocking back our fifth bottle of excellent cabernet, but the boys' pleas were so urgent that I found it hard to resist, especially when they dragged my double Weatherby out to the table on the porch where all of the adults were gathered around our portable Mexican fireplace.  It was so cute - it took both of them to carry it out to us.

      Although I was beat, I didn't want to let the young ones down.  Even Wendy wanted me to do something about those annoying predators, although they have done some good in terms of harvesting our neighbors small and less desirable pets.

      I went back to the garage, where I have a commercial freezer.  I took out a couple of vacuum sealed freeze-dried dead monkeys from the supply that we always keep around to bait predators.  They are an excellent universal bait – equally effective on land and sea - especially the ones we marinate in garlic cheese sauce.  Everyone knows that dogs love cheese, so cheese flavored monkeys are

a natural.

       I hydrated and thawed them out a bit over the chimney of our portable fireplace, which seemed to turn off some of the wives who previously had been acting kind of frisky, since "Desperate Housewives" was on later that evening. I hopped the fence and hung

the primates by their tails (these were new world monkeys) from a wooden cross bar we have mounted about 40 yards up the slope past our back fence.

      I duct-taped a flashlight to the gun barrels and waited, with my two fascinated three year-olds laying in the dirt by my side, whispering their inquiries so as not to spoil our chances amidst the darkness of this ambush.

      The coyotes came skulking in, but then scattered before they were in range. We heard a low, moaning sound and saw a much bigger shadow heading at a peculiar gait toward the bait monkeys.

      I hit the flashlight, even though it was out of effective range.  Just as I did so, a frightened Chupacabra let out a weird bark and retreated from his advance on the bait.

      I turned to scream back down to our group to get them to look up at the creature I had momentarily frozen in the lights.  It had dark, coarse fur and looked like a large, ugly dog with bad teeth.

No one was on the patio.  One of the women shouted through the screen door that "Desperate Housewives" had started and I should come down and watch.  I looked back up the slope and the creature was gone.

      There was nothing to do except come back down the hill with the little ones, who were chattering about the strange creature they had just seen.  They wanted to look it up in their animal picture book.

      I left the monkeys on the post, since once you rehydrate and thaw them out, they really won’t last.

      I sat down and watched the rest of the show as the boys went to bed.  We were the only ones that saw the creature.  It's good to know that there are still a few of them around. It's probably just as

well that we didn't get a shot off.

These are the days.

mammoth area report for 2007

        My 13 year old son Isaac, 16 year old Ryan Downs and I went
fly-fishing on Hot Creek on Thursday.  It was the first time for the boys
and everyone caught quality fish - browns and rainbows - on small size 20
nymphs split-shotted below an indicator. Hot creek is strictly catch and
release on flies with barbless hooks, which enhances the experience and the
"native"
quality of the fish, who are wary of the offerings of the fly fishermen who
constantly ply this water. We were in the canyon below the ranch. The creek
was running great, but the weeds were starting to get a bit thick.  I caught
a 16 inch brown, along with smaller browns and rainbows. All of the fish we
caught were good sized, with most around 12 inches or so and no real dinks.
Isaac ended the day by catching a nice brown all on his own, without the
assistance/direction of our guide, Josh Hueron.  Josh was very knowledgeable
and dedicated, even if he was a bit of a nag about technique. It was a
beginning lesson and he wanted us to appreciate everything at whatever
moment a particular thing needed appreciating. He put us on fish and
dispensed with a lot of lawn-casting practice, so we could maximize our
time.  We went straight to the creek and he taught the boys on the go. He
seemed a little bummed that the fish were not biting as aggressively as they
had been earlier in the week, but we were having a great time, even if we
were a little clumsy. Josh's expertise and help made it a great experience
for all of us and the boys learned more than I could have taught them in
between untying snarls and retying flies (probably the wrong ones). I would
always recommend getting a guide for fly-fishing, especially on the first
day of a multi-day trip. After we finished, we headed off to Grumps for
giant burgers and refreshments.

       Day two - we went to Lake Mary and rented the fanciest pontoon boat
that the Lake Mary Marina had to offer - $225 for four hours. Isaac and I
had reserved it the previous day from the concession when we scouted the
scene at the basin lakes.  I tried to reserve it for the whole day, but no
deal.
I tried to get a deal on renting two pontoon boats over the course of a day,
but had to pay for two separate half day rates.  I couldn't even get them to
throw in a free rental net, which turned out to be just as small as my
stream net anyway.  I bought some lures and bait from the shop and observed
that no one else was getting any kind of deal from these somewhat
wieneresque guys who worked at the marina.

   We had ten people, so the seating room on the expensive boat was
appreciated.  We trolled needlefish and kokanee lures 4 to 5 colors down to
catch a lot of planter sized rainbows. I brought my portable depth
finder/fish finder, which really made it easy to find the fish, most of
which were holding at 28 to 35 feet in anywhere from 30 to 60 feet of depth.
Several of the kids, including my twin three year olds, Tommy and Davie,
caught their first trout.

       We were off the lake by 11.  We went back to town and scarfed like
pigs.
Wendy and Annie stayed back at Annie's massive house in Mammoth with the
napping little boys. I took the five older kids back for another more
standard pontoon boat that we had reserved for the 3:30 to 7:30 pm time
slot.  This one cost $165 for four hours and actually fished better than the
fancier one, which had a CD player, but less access to the rail in the
stern.

       At this point we knew where the fish were, but could not make bottom
there with the 30 foot anchor lines that boat had. The kids wanted to throw
the light rigs and bait fish. We used the depth finder to anchor up in 28
feet of water at a spot where the wind pushed us toward the drop off at the
end of the lake closest to the outlet.  We threw toward the deeper water
where we had metered many fish, but they  also swarmed beneath us in the
shallower water from time to time.  We creamed the trout on inflated night
crawlers on #10 hooks, tied to five feet of 2# test fluorocarbon below a
sliding water-filled bubble, with a swivel stop at the top of the leader.
This set-up casts well and sinks slowly through the water column and the
zone where the fish are feeding. We caught browns, brooks and rainbows and
released all that were not damaged.  We ended up keeping eight and releasing
many more. I got to practice my knot tying skills quite a bit on Friday.

       We left that spot and headed back with the trolling lines back out.
We picked up a few more on the troll, which was easier on the release
because we were mouth hooking the fish on lures with single hooks. We were
twenty-five minutes late bringing back the boat, as we ended up chasing down
a floater that we had released.  Isaac was able to revive it and the kids
all cheered as it eventually swam away from Isaac's resuscitation efforts.
After we got our deposit back and were loading our gear up in the parking
lot, the surly marina attendant (not the nicer guy who had been there all
day) yelled for me to come back down to the shop.  He allowed me to wait
while he took a phone call and then demanded another $75 from me for being
late as he waited for one more boat to return (we were not the last boat
in).  I gave him the dough without another word and decided, after spending
close to 500 bucks there that day, that next time I would try the other
concession across the lake (Pokonobe), which seemed to have nicer pontoon
boats.  We decided that the motto of the Lake Mary Marina should be "We
aren't the only fishing concession on the lake.  We just act like we are."

       Saturday, we took the day off from fishing and went to the Devils
Post Pile.  Wendy and Annie took the little boys back from there and I took
the older kids to Rainbow falls and Red's Meadows, where the end of a long
hike was met with the best ice cream we ever ate and a beautiful bus ride
back.
The San Joaquin was running full, cold, and clear and the falls were right
out of the postcards.

       Sunday was our day to leave, but everyone was sleeping in from a
gluttonous
13 year birthday celebration for Whitney Downs at Robertos.  Isaac and I
snuck out for one last try at Lake Mary without the company of all of the
sleepers who had had enough of early rising to catch fish.  We decided that
since we only had an hour and a half to fish, that we would go big on the
lures. Neither marina was open early. We rented a small boat at about 7:50
from the very friendly and helpful guy (Lou) at the Pokanobe Resort.  We
trolled bigger lures 5 to 6 colors down.

       We could hardly go more than a hundred yards without getting bit on
a large Mepps Syclops.  We caught and released several nice sized trout and
then Isaac got one that took a lot of line and ended up almost straight down
in 70 feet of water.  He gradually brought it up and we decided that we had
to keep that one, which taped out at 21 and 1/2 inches.  It was Isaac's
biggest trout to date. It was a bright, beautiful fish, with all of its fins
and tail perfectly intact. We decided to head in, since the rest of our
group would be stirring and we had a big breakfast date at The Stove that
morning.
        
       On the way in, I got bit again and an even fatter rainbow screamed
off line and fought at the surface, jumping several times at long distance
and circling the boat as we tired him out.  The gold single siwash hook
Syclops was red hot that morning and has always been a producer for me.  We
were in by 9:15 and Lou came out to see if there was something wrong with
the boat because we had come in so quickly. We explained that the fishing
Gods had been so good to us that we had to quit early to preserve our karma.
We showed him our fish and he took our picture. There was a Sunday morning
service in progress on the large outdoor deck at the resort.  We walked
right beneath it as we  came down the dock and momentarily distracted the
flock from their devotions.
 
       These are the days.

Catalina 2007 Sarah's 30# yellowtail

 Isaac, Sarah and I went fishing on Saturday on board Larry Marks' 25 foot Parker "Legal Limit"  at Catalina on Saturday. Our boat was in for repairs and Larry generously offered to take us all out to inaugurate the season.  I woke Sarah up at 2 am so we could get to Larry's slip in San Pedro for a 4 am departure.  She wanted to go back to sleep but I made her endure five minutes of pain to get down to the truck and go back to sleep. Isaac slept through his alarm, but was up like a fireman in his fishing clothes within seconds of being awakened. We pulled out from Cabrillo Marina a little after 4.  The ride over was flat calm.

    We got squid from the Long Beach Carnage at the east end of Catalina.  We proceeded to the backside and set up at the squid grounds outside of the Vees in about 120 feet of water.  Temperature was 60 degrees, with darkness giving way to cloudy gray .  The current was light.  Sarah was using her custom wrapped spinning rod that she inherited from her great grandmother (I wrapped it for her in her lucky colors that she picked out);  an Okuma spinning reel filled with fresh 15# line, and a squid she spent a great deal of time selecting to use as bait.

    She hooked up into a screaming run and this yellowtail immediately pulled her rod down into the water to the lowest guide and ran underneath the boat.  She hung on and pumped it up over the next thirty five minutes, including getting wrapped around the anchor line twice during that timeframe .We guessed right and managed to unwrap it both times at the bow pulpit.  It was spent when she brought it to gaff.  I think Sarah was as well.

    It was not the first yellowtail that Sarah has caught by herself on this outfit, but it is the largest so far.  It weighed 30.1 pounds on a digital scale.  I have never caught one that big.  Our thanks to Larry for showing us such a great time and gaffing this memorable fish.  Sarah also caught the biggest bass later in the day.

    I  took Isaac out two days earlier (Sarah was sick) and we went night  fishing for giant squid.  He caught one that was just short of five feet long.  We had a Memorial Day BBQ and fed 48 people on what my kids killed.  The season has officially begun for us.  

These are the days. 

Thundershirt --- Are you shitting me?

 I was watching some late night obscuria on TV with my bride recently when a commercial for a product we never heard of entered our consciousness. It was an ad for a product called the “Thundershirt.”  Apparently, it makes your pet calm and fearless.   


It is a vestment for your dog with scientifically proven tendencies to relieve animal anxiety caused by thunderstorms, fireworks, strangers in weird hats, other animals and countless additional sources of irritating animal behavior.  Examples of bad dog actions were shown in a montage of “before” vignettes in which animals (mostly dogs) ripped up upholstery, barked like they were possessed, urinated on sacred family treasures and generally spazzed out.  As soon as they were strapped into the Thundershirt, which looks like a segmented Velcro life vest, these dogs immediately calmed down like they had smoked a pound of Humboldt.                     

      

   BEFORE

        

                                     AFTER                                                

   

Naked dogs that were previously shown freak-barking and going into grand mal seizures at the sound of Rice Crispies being exposed to milk were displayed, clothed in their new Thundershirts and Rastafarian dog hats, swaying to the sight and sound of 4th of July fireworks that now only barely kept them serenely awake.              
Cats actually being launched from catapults calmly accepted their journey with the quiet cool of the Apollo 13 commander once they were fitted into this stylish space suit    The testimonials flowed as folks who you know probably inflicted their ill-behaved pets on everyone they knew, suddenly copped out to  previously owning hell hounds. Now  they could gush their thanks to the inventors of this product for transforming their unruly beasts in to the loving companions they had always unreasonably insisted their victims recognize existed behind this unfortunate mask of  mouth-foaming terror.  
         
Now you can take your vicious animal to church, a fancy restaurant, or a letter carriers convention, confident that your dog will behave like a valium chasing Harvard professor.                      

Victor

My dog Victor is fine, but I was thinking of ordering a bunch of these things for myself and my family, especially for the long road trips we take.  I think perhaps I will get a bunch of vests to stock up in the office closet---- -you know, for clients. “Hey we just got the call that the jury is back with a verdict on your murder for hire trial in that tragic flamethrower death of your wife.  Why don't you and your girlfriend put on these stylish vests and stroll on over to the courthouse with me?”   
        
Your doctor could have them on hand for you when you get that diagnosis you’ve been dreading.  “I’ve got some good news and some bad news…..the good news is that you can keep this free vest I just had you put on instead of that pesky and embarrassing hospital garment you've been  wearing for all those tests.”      

I hope you all get a chance to see this add.  It’s just the darndest thing and the applications for human use are really limitless..  It’s what Newt Gingrich wears to marriage counseling and Captain Mario Schettino wears instead of a life vest.   


My only question is why didn’t they invent this vest for the rest sooner.


These are the days.

Southern California Orcas

In this time of cold water, we've had more killer whales than we usually get in southern California waters. The remarkable abundance of forage fish and squid off southern California waters for at least the last 15 years has increased the marine mammal populations dramatically, so it is not surprising for us to have a greater showing of the orcas. The dolphin population has grown exponentially and the seal lions are like houseflies, so perhaps the black and whites will stay to police the sea dogs.
It may be that the salmon stocks the orcas usually shadow are depleted enough for the orcas to loiter in our cold waters.
It could also mean that the cold waters are causing the salmon to loiter down here and the orcas are with them.
We have had occasions in the past when the orcas showed up in late winter and hung around for a few weeks before salmon started getting caught in our local waters in early April.
In any event, it seems pretty cool to have them here for whatever length of time they may be visiting us. There are few more dramatic displays of animal power than these beasts are capable of demonstrating.

Here's to hoping that this might portend a salmon season for southern California this April. With all of the marine closures above and below our border, we could use it.
As for salmon season below San Francisco, here’s the deal:
Open April 2 - September 18, 2011;
2 salmon per day of any species except coho;
23 inch minimum size (total length).

These are the days

Land Ho!