As it seems like the most logical thing to do to head back to Indian, we ended up heading north to a lake we had yet to spend any time on. Reed Lake is a full of walleye and is gin clear at all times of the year. I have not investigated further as there is only a minor population of pike in the lake. It was a cold breezy morning and we struggled to even see a fish. I was convinced this was a waste of time until I caught sight of a waldo chasing my shark bait as they had done the day before. At this juncture in our outing, Paul was doing the "Too-much-trail-mix" dance and he finally got really quiet. We finally convinced Adam he needed to beach the boat and let Paul relieve himself. As Adam positioned the boat, Paul and I dissected one of his gloves into a couple of pieces for posterity's sake...
As we tried to beach the boat in shallow water we invariably got it stuck and had to rock it back out into open water. At this point Paul was a little green around the gills. We finally were able to haul back to the boat ramp and let Paul do the pine-cone stroll to the nearest cedar tree.
Ironically, the only other boat to come onto the lake showed up seconds after we lost sight of Paul. All we could do is laugh when he returned and said that he was not the first to utilize the largest cedar on the bank.
After some sweet relief, we blasted back out onto the opposite end of the lake nearest the road. I was able to spot another fish, but this time it was actually a pike! I threw everything I had at that fish and missed two strikes... In the mean time, Adam pulled in a nice walleye by anyone's standards but a smaller one compare to our previous day's catch. We continued to work the area, and eventually Adam hooked the only pike in the entire freakin' lake. We worked to bay area until a minor fishing line/trolling motor mishap. To make matters worse, while Adam was attempting to fix said issue, a vital pin dropped into the lake below. He was able to finagle something together, but by the time he got it fixed it was time to call it a morning and head back home for breakfast.
After inhaling our food like we had not eaten in days, Paul, Adam, and Cathie packed up and headed back to Sioux Falls. This left Dad, Rachel, and I for the remainder of the afternoon. Rachel granted more fishing time so Dad and I took a chance a Baileys. It was a beautiful outing but we were not finding the fish. There were droves of small perch, but even they would not bite. Dad was finally able to catch a hotdog size perch to keep us from being skunked but that concluded our day. We headed home and called it a weekend.
We have been blessed with great opportunities up here and as much as it frustrates me to not be able to fish some of the lakes up here as of recently, he has forced me to branch out and explore what other opportunities await us.
Stay Tuned
Friday, May 19, 2017
Chasing Waldos and The Maiden Voyage
Now that our seasons have pretended to stabilize somewhat, Paul, Adam, Cathie, and Dad came up for another weekend of fish chasing. The water temps were right on the edge for walleye spawn time and the pike have spawned out already, but are plentiful.
We ho-ed and hum-ed as usual, but finally decided on an early morning trip on the water. Paul, Adam, and myself ventured out while the rest slept in. The fishing was not surprisingly slow, but we knew we would find one eventually. When Dad finally made his way out to the lake, we picked him up and headed out to the main lake on Indian as the bay had not produced. When we found a good spot we indeed found fish. Dad started us out with a nice pike!
Adam was able to put the money fish in the boat shortly after Dad caught the pike.
As our morning had been spent rather quickly, we headed back to the house for a quick bite of lunch, and to pick up Rachel and Cathie. After our lunch break we were able to hook up the Clara Lee for its maiden voyage as our boat. This boat has seen a lot of water, but she worked like a champ. It was nice to have a boat that the Mrs. is comfortable fishing in. It doesn't hurt at all that the seats in it are brand new and when she wants to take a break there is a comfy spot to do so.
We struggled to find fish in the afternoon in a different spot until Adam called me and said to haul over to our spot from the morning. They were watching the walleyes in the shallows spawning like carp. Schools would come through in waves but they were unable to boat a single one. When we came over and anchored it was the same story; they would not bite on anything. I finally figured I should strike up a pike and started throwing my shark bait. My first cast brought four walleyes right up to the boat but they did not hit. I changed to something a little more aggressive yet and it took two or three more casts to hammer into one.
I never thought these fish would hit something so big, but I was catering to their aggressive nature this time of year. I caught another nice waldo in this fashion and even hammered a nice pike doing the same thing.
As the bite was a struggle for everyone else, it was decided that some would head back to the house while the second boat stayed out for a little longer.
After supper we had to try an evening bite. Because there were fish everywhere, we knew the night bite was going to be the ticket.
It took a mere ten minutes to figure out that was a great decision. We ended up having to release six walleyes over the 20 inch slot. I will not say we hammered them, but we were boating some of the most quality fish we have caught up here. Adam caught and released a hog that had spawned out already.
The true sign that we were hitting the spawning just right was fat fish I hauled in that had yet to spawn. She swam away to make more walleye!
A productive outing indeed, this trip was able to make for some full bags of fillets. I can't wait to cook some of them up!
Stay Tuned
We ho-ed and hum-ed as usual, but finally decided on an early morning trip on the water. Paul, Adam, and myself ventured out while the rest slept in. The fishing was not surprisingly slow, but we knew we would find one eventually. When Dad finally made his way out to the lake, we picked him up and headed out to the main lake on Indian as the bay had not produced. When we found a good spot we indeed found fish. Dad started us out with a nice pike!
Adam was able to put the money fish in the boat shortly after Dad caught the pike.
As our morning had been spent rather quickly, we headed back to the house for a quick bite of lunch, and to pick up Rachel and Cathie. After our lunch break we were able to hook up the Clara Lee for its maiden voyage as our boat. This boat has seen a lot of water, but she worked like a champ. It was nice to have a boat that the Mrs. is comfortable fishing in. It doesn't hurt at all that the seats in it are brand new and when she wants to take a break there is a comfy spot to do so.
We struggled to find fish in the afternoon in a different spot until Adam called me and said to haul over to our spot from the morning. They were watching the walleyes in the shallows spawning like carp. Schools would come through in waves but they were unable to boat a single one. When we came over and anchored it was the same story; they would not bite on anything. I finally figured I should strike up a pike and started throwing my shark bait. My first cast brought four walleyes right up to the boat but they did not hit. I changed to something a little more aggressive yet and it took two or three more casts to hammer into one.
I never thought these fish would hit something so big, but I was catering to their aggressive nature this time of year. I caught another nice waldo in this fashion and even hammered a nice pike doing the same thing.
As the bite was a struggle for everyone else, it was decided that some would head back to the house while the second boat stayed out for a little longer.
After supper we had to try an evening bite. Because there were fish everywhere, we knew the night bite was going to be the ticket.
It took a mere ten minutes to figure out that was a great decision. We ended up having to release six walleyes over the 20 inch slot. I will not say we hammered them, but we were boating some of the most quality fish we have caught up here. Adam caught and released a hog that had spawned out already.
A productive outing indeed, this trip was able to make for some full bags of fillets. I can't wait to cook some of them up!
Stay Tuned
An Afternoon With Randy
I have not spent enough time with my Uncle Randy. That is fact alone.
Though it was impromptu, and way too brief, Rachel and I were able to escape the chokehold of a packed Livermore house the weekend of Easter and hang out with Randy, Erin, Elsie, and Henrik. Out of the blue, Randy got me a set of wood carving tools. I not only wanted to thank him personally, I wanted to hear what brought the idea to mind. We ended up spending much of our time talking about just about everything. I enjoyed and absorbed every minute of it. Even though I have failed to spend more time with my uncle, he has had a profound impact on my life. I have been highly influenced by my uncles, and many will tell you that my personality and mannerisms show that directly. I have always considered that a compliment, and Randy is no exception to this rule. Randy has given me something my other uncles have never been able to; a non-Livermore perspective. Be it about woodworking, or personal relationships, Randy has a perspective that I have always cherished. His perspectives are often more calculated and much less aggressively motivated. Every one of my family members has a perspective that I respect, but for whatever reason, Randy's has always been one I have revered whether he knows it or not.
Weeks ago, I was out working in my shop and I found myself, as usual, frustrated and tired. Instead of giving up on the project and throwing it through the garage door as I fully intended, I stopped for a moment and looked at my project. As many sons do, the first thought that came to mind was, "what would Dad do here?", but this time all I could think about was Randy. How would Randy fix this? How does Randy not have holes in his shop walls? Ah yes, the whole he's a normal-human-not-a-Livermore thing... I fully regret not calling him on the spot but I have my own neurosis.
I am often a hypocritical person and when Rachel suggested that we go visit Randy, I was hesitant. I love it when people come and visit us in Clark, and I never find it to be an imposition when people do, but whenever I think about being on the other side, I am always hesitant. I don't want to be a bother and I understand people have their own things going on.
I am sure it came off as very abrupt and aloof, but I didn't bother asking if Randy was around until 20 minutes before we showed up at his shop door. No, we were not bothering him, and I hope he enjoyed our visit as much as I did.
This trip was just the beginning of many, and I hope to glean more wisdom from my Uncle Randy in future visits.
Stay Tuned
Though it was impromptu, and way too brief, Rachel and I were able to escape the chokehold of a packed Livermore house the weekend of Easter and hang out with Randy, Erin, Elsie, and Henrik. Out of the blue, Randy got me a set of wood carving tools. I not only wanted to thank him personally, I wanted to hear what brought the idea to mind. We ended up spending much of our time talking about just about everything. I enjoyed and absorbed every minute of it. Even though I have failed to spend more time with my uncle, he has had a profound impact on my life. I have been highly influenced by my uncles, and many will tell you that my personality and mannerisms show that directly. I have always considered that a compliment, and Randy is no exception to this rule. Randy has given me something my other uncles have never been able to; a non-Livermore perspective. Be it about woodworking, or personal relationships, Randy has a perspective that I have always cherished. His perspectives are often more calculated and much less aggressively motivated. Every one of my family members has a perspective that I respect, but for whatever reason, Randy's has always been one I have revered whether he knows it or not.
Weeks ago, I was out working in my shop and I found myself, as usual, frustrated and tired. Instead of giving up on the project and throwing it through the garage door as I fully intended, I stopped for a moment and looked at my project. As many sons do, the first thought that came to mind was, "what would Dad do here?", but this time all I could think about was Randy. How would Randy fix this? How does Randy not have holes in his shop walls? Ah yes, the whole he's a normal-human-not-a-Livermore thing... I fully regret not calling him on the spot but I have my own neurosis.
I am often a hypocritical person and when Rachel suggested that we go visit Randy, I was hesitant. I love it when people come and visit us in Clark, and I never find it to be an imposition when people do, but whenever I think about being on the other side, I am always hesitant. I don't want to be a bother and I understand people have their own things going on.
I am sure it came off as very abrupt and aloof, but I didn't bother asking if Randy was around until 20 minutes before we showed up at his shop door. No, we were not bothering him, and I hope he enjoyed our visit as much as I did.
This trip was just the beginning of many, and I hope to glean more wisdom from my Uncle Randy in future visits.
Stay Tuned
No gun? No Problem
This spring both Dad and I were unable to draw a gun tag for turkey season. As South Dakota does things very differently than Iowa, we were both disappointed, but there was nothing we could do about it...Or was there...
I said screw the system and applied for a bow turkey tag. These tags do not have a draw system like gun tags as their success rates are half of those from gun tag holders. As soon as I got my tag I realized I had no blind. This presented a bit of a problem. I went to work making some phone calls and alas!!! Nick had two that were in disrepair that he was never going to use. When I came down for my visit, they were promptly loaded into the car. By the grace of our Lord, the poles on the inside of both tents were the same size!!! I was able to man-fangle the new poles into the nice tent and was now the owner of a fantastic functioning tent blind!
Opening archery weekend came and went without a flinch from my part. In fact, the Saturday opener, I was busy fishing pike.
The weekend of the 8th, I was given permission from the Mrs. to hunt turkeys until my brains started oozing from my ears. I got up at the un-holy hour of 3:30am as I was unable to sleep anyway, and I had an hour and a half drive ahead of me and I did not want to be late. As usual, turkeys take a bit of a strangle hold on me and I get a bit antsy. I hoisted up my blind, diddy-bag, and bow and headed to my scouted corner. The wind was howling, despite a forecast of mild winds for the day. I got about halfway there when I realized I left my bow release in the front seat.
Damn....
I dropped all of my gear and hauled back to the car at the top of the hill. This fat guy may not looks quick but I managed to make it there in short time and short breath. I was reaching for the door handle when I felt in my jacket pocket; my release.
Double Damn....
I picked apples all the way back down to my gear and finished the last leg of my walk. I snuck into the sheltered area without so much as a flea-fart of a sound. I knew if there were birds here they were going to be close. I set up the blind as quickly as possible and made sure to stake it down. Even though it was sheltered, the wind was bucking for sure. After strategically placing my two hen, one jake decoy setup, I buried myself into my hide. If there were birds here, they were not going to know what hit them!
I waited for the distant (or hopefully not so distant) sound of a timber rattling gobble. I was prepped and ready to go 40 minutes before legal light, and by sun up I had not heard a gobble. It was a beautiful morning to enjoy God's great earth and I did! I had a pair of mallards try multiple times to land in my decoy spread. In all of my years of turkey hunting I had never seen anything like it. They did eventually land about 40 yards out in front of my blind and proceeded to squawk like I was invading their home. I was also greeted by a small group of does that made their way to 35 yards before deciding they did not like what they were seeing. They turned tail and left me to myself for the remainder of the morning. At a little after 7am I heard a faint gobble. I knew exactly where he was; right where I had killed my bird last season.
I was in the blind for the long haul and knew if there were any birds on the entire property, they would eventually end up right at my tent. Uncle Al was supposed to join me at some point in the morning and I was unsure of when. I got a call from Al saying he was not going to make it out this morning after all. As I was on the phone with him, the gobbler was sounding off on the other side of the hill near one of my treestands.
As the minutes passed, I could hear him strutting back and forth at the base of the hill, gobbling every few minutes. I tried clucking at him to get his attention but the wind was putting a hamper on my game. At a little after 7:30am I could hear the gobbles becoming distant and I knew where he was headed...Away.... I pulled all of the stops and let-er rip. I took my slate call and extended my arms out of the blind window and scratched until my ears were about to bleed.
He gobbled.
I scratched again.
He gobbled again.
I knew at that moment I had this in the bag.
Each time he gobbled, he was significantly closer. When he crested the hill and gobbled, I gave some soft clucks and purrs that would make any shy gobbler swoon. When he didn't gobble back I knew he was much closer. I grabbed my bow and waited for him to poke out of the woods next me on the logging road. I was not five feet from the logging road and fully expected him to take that path, but once he caught sight of my decoys he was on a bee-line. He gobbled once at forty yards. When he started spitting and drumming within 30 yards the whole tent would pulse; I could feel it in my chest. I could hear his wing-tips scrapping the ground as he was strutting closer and closer.
Finally, I see him come out of timberline and head straight for the jake decoy. In full strut, 20 yards in front of me, I realize, "this is actually happening".
He had no idea I was there as I drew back my bow. As I settled my pin into the right spot, I released my arrow at this giant gobbler in full strut, 11 steps from my blind.
WHACK!
As my arrow hits him, he drops a little before hopping into the air. He walks a limping loop around the spread and walks right back to where he came out of the woods. Just as I lose sight of him, I hear three wing beats and that is all she wrote!!!
I sat in my blind for a few minutes reveling in the magnificence of the morning. I was honestly a little bummed that my season ended so quickly. I hunted for a grand total of an hour and forty minutes and my entire season was over.
The best part: no tracking odyssey, no miss, no injuries to me.
As I crept out of my tent blind, I was greeted by the scent and sounds of spring. There is not a whole lot I enjoy more than getting up at an unholy hour for turkeys.
After packing up and hauling my gear and bird back to the car, I headed over to Al and Karin's to show them my morning's gift. As I usually have some turkey left over, I was hesitant to just throw this one into the freezer. Instead, I discussed with Al and Karin whether or not they wanted it, and upon further discussion it was decided they would have it for Easter dinner. I went head first into plucking this magnificent bird.
Brian and a friend were around after putting the dock in at Lake Cochrane, and he was able to instruct me as to how he would like the bird prepared as he was going to be doing the cooking. He had me pull out the back bone, as well as split the breast so it lays flat when its cooked. I may have to try this some time!
After cleaning up the bird and getting it in the freezer, (for only a short time), I was on my way back home.
I don't know that there are any outdoor adventures that I enjoy more than spending time in the turkey woods. I am beginning to enjoy deer bow hunting again, I have begun to appreciate watching the dogs work on the prairie, and I have been hypnotized by the waterfowl scene here in South Dakota, but it all comes back to turkeys. Whether I am running and gunning solo, or sharing the hunt with someone, I just cannot get enough of it. Yes, it is selfish of me to feel almost cheated that my season ended so swiftly as many others are not quite as lucky, but there is nothing like having a gobbler sound off in the timber. There is no sensation like having a bird spitting and drum within feet of you. I will look forward to my next turkey adventure as soon as the last one has ended.
Stay Tuned
I said screw the system and applied for a bow turkey tag. These tags do not have a draw system like gun tags as their success rates are half of those from gun tag holders. As soon as I got my tag I realized I had no blind. This presented a bit of a problem. I went to work making some phone calls and alas!!! Nick had two that were in disrepair that he was never going to use. When I came down for my visit, they were promptly loaded into the car. By the grace of our Lord, the poles on the inside of both tents were the same size!!! I was able to man-fangle the new poles into the nice tent and was now the owner of a fantastic functioning tent blind!
Opening archery weekend came and went without a flinch from my part. In fact, the Saturday opener, I was busy fishing pike.
The weekend of the 8th, I was given permission from the Mrs. to hunt turkeys until my brains started oozing from my ears. I got up at the un-holy hour of 3:30am as I was unable to sleep anyway, and I had an hour and a half drive ahead of me and I did not want to be late. As usual, turkeys take a bit of a strangle hold on me and I get a bit antsy. I hoisted up my blind, diddy-bag, and bow and headed to my scouted corner. The wind was howling, despite a forecast of mild winds for the day. I got about halfway there when I realized I left my bow release in the front seat.
Damn....
I dropped all of my gear and hauled back to the car at the top of the hill. This fat guy may not looks quick but I managed to make it there in short time and short breath. I was reaching for the door handle when I felt in my jacket pocket; my release.
Double Damn....
I picked apples all the way back down to my gear and finished the last leg of my walk. I snuck into the sheltered area without so much as a flea-fart of a sound. I knew if there were birds here they were going to be close. I set up the blind as quickly as possible and made sure to stake it down. Even though it was sheltered, the wind was bucking for sure. After strategically placing my two hen, one jake decoy setup, I buried myself into my hide. If there were birds here, they were not going to know what hit them!
I waited for the distant (or hopefully not so distant) sound of a timber rattling gobble. I was prepped and ready to go 40 minutes before legal light, and by sun up I had not heard a gobble. It was a beautiful morning to enjoy God's great earth and I did! I had a pair of mallards try multiple times to land in my decoy spread. In all of my years of turkey hunting I had never seen anything like it. They did eventually land about 40 yards out in front of my blind and proceeded to squawk like I was invading their home. I was also greeted by a small group of does that made their way to 35 yards before deciding they did not like what they were seeing. They turned tail and left me to myself for the remainder of the morning. At a little after 7am I heard a faint gobble. I knew exactly where he was; right where I had killed my bird last season.
I was in the blind for the long haul and knew if there were any birds on the entire property, they would eventually end up right at my tent. Uncle Al was supposed to join me at some point in the morning and I was unsure of when. I got a call from Al saying he was not going to make it out this morning after all. As I was on the phone with him, the gobbler was sounding off on the other side of the hill near one of my treestands.
As the minutes passed, I could hear him strutting back and forth at the base of the hill, gobbling every few minutes. I tried clucking at him to get his attention but the wind was putting a hamper on my game. At a little after 7:30am I could hear the gobbles becoming distant and I knew where he was headed...Away.... I pulled all of the stops and let-er rip. I took my slate call and extended my arms out of the blind window and scratched until my ears were about to bleed.
He gobbled.
I scratched again.
He gobbled again.
I knew at that moment I had this in the bag.
Each time he gobbled, he was significantly closer. When he crested the hill and gobbled, I gave some soft clucks and purrs that would make any shy gobbler swoon. When he didn't gobble back I knew he was much closer. I grabbed my bow and waited for him to poke out of the woods next me on the logging road. I was not five feet from the logging road and fully expected him to take that path, but once he caught sight of my decoys he was on a bee-line. He gobbled once at forty yards. When he started spitting and drumming within 30 yards the whole tent would pulse; I could feel it in my chest. I could hear his wing-tips scrapping the ground as he was strutting closer and closer.
Finally, I see him come out of timberline and head straight for the jake decoy. In full strut, 20 yards in front of me, I realize, "this is actually happening".
He had no idea I was there as I drew back my bow. As I settled my pin into the right spot, I released my arrow at this giant gobbler in full strut, 11 steps from my blind.
WHACK!
As my arrow hits him, he drops a little before hopping into the air. He walks a limping loop around the spread and walks right back to where he came out of the woods. Just as I lose sight of him, I hear three wing beats and that is all she wrote!!!
I sat in my blind for a few minutes reveling in the magnificence of the morning. I was honestly a little bummed that my season ended so quickly. I hunted for a grand total of an hour and forty minutes and my entire season was over.
The best part: no tracking odyssey, no miss, no injuries to me.
As I crept out of my tent blind, I was greeted by the scent and sounds of spring. There is not a whole lot I enjoy more than getting up at an unholy hour for turkeys.
After packing up and hauling my gear and bird back to the car, I headed over to Al and Karin's to show them my morning's gift. As I usually have some turkey left over, I was hesitant to just throw this one into the freezer. Instead, I discussed with Al and Karin whether or not they wanted it, and upon further discussion it was decided they would have it for Easter dinner. I went head first into plucking this magnificent bird.
Brian and a friend were around after putting the dock in at Lake Cochrane, and he was able to instruct me as to how he would like the bird prepared as he was going to be doing the cooking. He had me pull out the back bone, as well as split the breast so it lays flat when its cooked. I may have to try this some time!
After cleaning up the bird and getting it in the freezer, (for only a short time), I was on my way back home.
I don't know that there are any outdoor adventures that I enjoy more than spending time in the turkey woods. I am beginning to enjoy deer bow hunting again, I have begun to appreciate watching the dogs work on the prairie, and I have been hypnotized by the waterfowl scene here in South Dakota, but it all comes back to turkeys. Whether I am running and gunning solo, or sharing the hunt with someone, I just cannot get enough of it. Yes, it is selfish of me to feel almost cheated that my season ended so swiftly as many others are not quite as lucky, but there is nothing like having a gobbler sound off in the timber. There is no sensation like having a bird spitting and drum within feet of you. I will look forward to my next turkey adventure as soon as the last one has ended.
Stay Tuned
Winter to Spring
Once I caught my giant pike, my drive to get out and push the envelope on questionable ice diminished greatly. I have spent far less time spring fishing this year than last also because of a snafu with our government no longer allowing access to some of my favorite lakes. That is for another time and place...
Being a long time overdue here are some highlights to winter switching over to spring:
After visiting with Wayne Cochrane out at their family property, Rachel and I did some mild shed hunting. We did not manage to find a single antler, but an awesome coyote fatality duck decoy followed us home.
The weekend of March 12th, Lou and I headed out to Nick and Lisa's place to do some hardcore shed hunting. As often seems to be the case that time of year, the weather did not exactly cooperate, and we cancelled the shed hunting trip. Ethan joined in for some shenanigans both on the river and in the yard. Because there was still a fair amount of ice floating down the river, fishing was borderline futile but we tried anyway. We spent most of the time out shooting ice chunks with the pellet gun and fishing frozen shrimp out of our pockets... Thanks Poindexter...
The other portion of our time was spent cutting down (or attempting) trees in Nick's grove. He wants to restart the project and the old grove was mostly elm and silver maple. Some great slab indeed followed me home!
I believe the only pic I got of the entire weekend is waking up from a dead sleep with Lou curled up at my feet. She is a much better sleeping companion than Mocha; that's for sure.
As the season generally dictates, each year the ice is a littler different. When Megan, Ryan, and the kids came up for a visit the weekend of the 18th, we were kinda landlocked. Unfortunately, we were unable to do any fishing during their three day stay. No worry, we found plenty to do with the kids. A couple of snowball fights, some Frisbee with Lou, and starting my plants with the kids were some of the activities.
Probably my favorite part of the weekend is how well Mocha and my niece Myla got along. They adored each other! Mocha would follow her around as she shed food scraps like most children do. When she was well fed she would lay on her side and welcome whatever hugs were heaved her way.
The last week of March I was able to finally find a shred of open water and invariably found my pike. Nothing gigantic, but open-water fish nonetheless.
With the transitioning of winter to spring, it was nice to see open water again. I fought for a longer winter this year for whatever reason, but have greeted 50-60 degree days with open arms. Now that it has started to warm up, I have been chomping at the bit to get my gardens started!
Stay Tuned
Being a long time overdue here are some highlights to winter switching over to spring:
After visiting with Wayne Cochrane out at their family property, Rachel and I did some mild shed hunting. We did not manage to find a single antler, but an awesome coyote fatality duck decoy followed us home.
The weekend of March 12th, Lou and I headed out to Nick and Lisa's place to do some hardcore shed hunting. As often seems to be the case that time of year, the weather did not exactly cooperate, and we cancelled the shed hunting trip. Ethan joined in for some shenanigans both on the river and in the yard. Because there was still a fair amount of ice floating down the river, fishing was borderline futile but we tried anyway. We spent most of the time out shooting ice chunks with the pellet gun and fishing frozen shrimp out of our pockets... Thanks Poindexter...
The other portion of our time was spent cutting down (or attempting) trees in Nick's grove. He wants to restart the project and the old grove was mostly elm and silver maple. Some great slab indeed followed me home!
I believe the only pic I got of the entire weekend is waking up from a dead sleep with Lou curled up at my feet. She is a much better sleeping companion than Mocha; that's for sure.
As the season generally dictates, each year the ice is a littler different. When Megan, Ryan, and the kids came up for a visit the weekend of the 18th, we were kinda landlocked. Unfortunately, we were unable to do any fishing during their three day stay. No worry, we found plenty to do with the kids. A couple of snowball fights, some Frisbee with Lou, and starting my plants with the kids were some of the activities.
The last week of March I was able to finally find a shred of open water and invariably found my pike. Nothing gigantic, but open-water fish nonetheless.
With the transitioning of winter to spring, it was nice to see open water again. I fought for a longer winter this year for whatever reason, but have greeted 50-60 degree days with open arms. Now that it has started to warm up, I have been chomping at the bit to get my gardens started!
Stay Tuned
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