Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Fish On
Is there anything better than a bite or nibble on the end of the line? I don't care if it’s a bluegill or a tarpon that "tug" blows my hair back. I was in Florida for the Memorial Day weekend to celebrate my recent engagement with family. We hadn’t seen family since I popped the question. We also had the chance to chase one of Florida’s coveted big game fish. The day after we got into Florida, I landed a 125 lbs 70 inch tarpon. Fun!!! She gave me a 45 minute fight with a few jumps. I was spent. This is 45 minutes on heavy tackle – 80lbs test and one of those old, massive Penn saltwater reels! I couldn’t imagine using anything lighter and you wouldn’t accordingly to the Captain who took the lady and I out that afternoon. Having a sturdier outfit, as he called it, allowed you to fight the fish, get out of the gaum that can be tarpon fishing for that part of Florida at that time of the year and not exhaust the fish so he can recover to fight another day. A father son combo, the Captain and Scooter were part of the old Florida contingent - inboard engine, heavy tackle, 4 AM fishing, squirrel fish for bait, relying on depth charts, not following the crowds and very serious. Everything you would want in a guide actually. It was interesting to hear about the good ol’days when “you could walk across the bay on the backs of the tarpon” and “these tournaments, no respect for the fishery, light tackle and two stroke outboards are ruining it for everybody. I hope my grandson will be able to catch a tarpon one day.” I do too! All in all, any fishing is fun especially tarpon and I’m fired up I can say I’ve caught a tarpon; however, I don’t want to deal with all the crowds especially the douche bags with the matching outfits, tricked out boats and enough rods and gear for a Calvary. Based on what I saw, I could see a "Best in Show" type of movie about tournament tarpon fishing. Even the lady said it was a bit of shit show at times and took away from the Zen of fishing. I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Monday, May 18, 2009
She's a big one and she's gonna be a lotta
If you would have told me five years ago that I’d be pig hunting I wouldn’t have believed you. A lot of people hunt in Nebraska but it wasn’t something my folks really pushed. By my late twenties, I had done some bird hunting and thoroughly enjoyed it but no “big” game hunting. My interest in bigger game was piqued in early 2006 on an airplane flight back to San Francisco to start a job with my current company when I read this article in the NYTimes. After reading it, I knew I wanted to hunt pings for all the same reasons Pollan describes and the fact it all went down in Northern California made it possible for me.
Pan to last month, my buddy Dan called and said there was a chance for a pig hunt up near Humboldt State Park and wondered if I was interested. Screaming like a little girl, I shrieked, “oh hells yeah”. It was a fantastic trip for a lot of reasons other than the pig hunting. First things first, we were in God’s country. Imagine a gazillion acre logging ranch that had no developments to speak of save a hunting lodge and a hardly used, dilapidated homesteader house. There was not another human except our crew within a five mile radius. The place was ours...all of the green hills, forests, clear rivers and streams, blue skies, etc. The air was so fresh I slept like a king despite the howling winds and 30 F nights. I don’t remember sleeping that well since I was up the middle of Norway. Other members of the hunting group were four older guys who took Dan and I under their wings and showed us the ropes. Those guys knew the ends and outs of the land and were more than willing to share their knowledge. Their largess made the trip! I got the feeling these guys were deer hunters who like to get a pig every now and then. Not uncommon, I’ve come to understand wild pigs are low on the big game quarry list of CA.
Pan to last month, my buddy Dan called and said there was a chance for a pig hunt up near Humboldt State Park and wondered if I was interested. Screaming like a little girl, I shrieked, “oh hells yeah”. It was a fantastic trip for a lot of reasons other than the pig hunting. First things first, we were in God’s country. Imagine a gazillion acre logging ranch that had no developments to speak of save a hunting lodge and a hardly used, dilapidated homesteader house. There was not another human except our crew within a five mile radius. The place was ours...all of the green hills, forests, clear rivers and streams, blue skies, etc. The air was so fresh I slept like a king despite the howling winds and 30 F nights. I don’t remember sleeping that well since I was up the middle of Norway. Other members of the hunting group were four older guys who took Dan and I under their wings and showed us the ropes. Those guys knew the ends and outs of the land and were more than willing to share their knowledge. Their largess made the trip! I got the feeling these guys were deer hunters who like to get a pig every now and then. Not uncommon, I’ve come to understand wild pigs are low on the big game quarry list of CA.
We got to the hunting lodge around 5 PM on Friday. Before we driving onto the property, we stopped at the gate and had a celebratory beer. I was thinking these guys were alright. To get in the country mood, I selected Drive-by-Truckers for the ride in which took us about 30 minutes on logging roads. Once at the lodge, everybody emptied their trucks and got to the business of drinking beer, practiced shooting at a make shift range and strategized about possible areas to hunt. At roughly a hundred yards, Dan and I both nailed an empty Corona bottle and steel hanging shooting target, respectively. Not bad for two guys relatively new to this sort of hunting and using guns that were new to us. So as not to waste the remaining sun light, we jumped on the ATVs and rode around the hunting lodge. On a ATV, Dan is happier than pig in shit. Who knew a Rochester boy would embrace country livin? It was great to see. JHead, who would be our guide on Saturday, suggested we head up to this ridge. Once there, we walked down the opposite side we came up on and spotted a pig. Unfortunately, we were too busy talking about shed antlers to really get a good shot on it. But, seeing a pig so fast into the trip gave me hope. We headed back to the lodge to a great campfire and food a la Pierce and son. I have to mention the camp fire which was probably the best one I’ve been around. The masonry in this fire pit was such that all of the smoke was drawn up and back so the smoke was never in your face but you got all of heat. Apparently, an old German mason laid the brick a long time ago. Clearly, the work of a master. There wasn’t much talking at the dinner table as we all were pretty hungry. One of the guys asked, “I wonder what the poor people are eating now”. We all just smiled and laughed and kept on eating. We went to bed with our bellies full and a nice pile of empty beer cans.
Saturday I woke early to a cold wind and Dan bitching about how sick he was. A few cups of cowboy coffee and standing near the fire warmed us up and we were ready to go. Dan and I jumped into JHead’s truck and we were off. We got the full tour of the property in search of pigs. I reckon we saw about 10 different microclimates in our pursuit – grasslands, redwood forest, above the tree line rocks and scrub, oak savannas, chaparral, coniferous forests, wetlands, etc. About three hours into the drive as we rounded a bend, JHead slammed on the breaks and said, “Pigs”. Quickly, we all got out of the truck to take a look. 500 yards away where three wild hogs – two rust colored medium ones and a big black one. These pigs were more domestic then Eurasian. I didn’t really know the difference until my second pig hunt. More on that later... Standing there, JHead told us which one we should go after. The smaller of the three would be our target as it would be easier to haul out and taste better. With that and yours truly leading the way, we stalked those pigs for over 300 yards straight down the mountain hiding behind trees, bushes and rock outcroppings as cover. It was the longest and quietest 300 yards of my life. My heart was coming out of my chest. I wanted to bag a pig. I got to 180 yards away and decided we couldn’t get any closer without spooking them. Dan was behind me and he finally caught up with me. We got on our bellies and inched a few yards closer to the lip of a ridge overlooking the pigs. Safeties off. “1….2…wait.” “It is on 3 or just before?” “Ok, let’s practice.” “1, 2, shot.” “Got it?” Got it.” We waited about a minute, which felt like an hour, until the target pig got into position. It never really did though. Plus, to make matters worse, the pigs were getting skittish because cows were slowly encroaching. “Ready?“ “Ready”. “ 1, 2” Bang! We both missed. I saw my bullet hit the mud just below the chest and almost behind. I don’t know how close Dan’s shot was. The pigs scattered and we got to our feet pissed but fired up. JHead was planning on meeting us around the mountain we just walked down. The entire walk back to the truck, Dan and I were kicking ourselves for missing that pig. Lessons learned – when you got shot on any pig, take it. Counting down with your buddy never works.
The rest of the afternoon was spent driving back and retelling our stalk and miss. JHead was impressed with our stalk. Dan and I were still riding the high of having the chance at a pig. We caught some shit from the other guys about missing but was consoled by the fact 180 yard shot is no layup. Beginners luck I guess. After a bite and some rest, we decided to make another go of it. From the bottom of the hill of the lodge, Dan and I walked in one direction and Deike and J going in the other. After another hour or so of walking, Dan and I didn’t see another pig or fresh tracks so we headed back to the lodge. After a beer, we got a call from J saying they got a pig. JHead and I got jumped back into his truck to go help J out. J’s was a perfect 150 lbs boar cleanly shot. We helped to dress it and schlepped it back over a mile to the truck. We all got packed up and started to head back to the lodge. I was in the first car back to the lodge and when we got there, we heard three quick shots. Jhead and I immediately turned around to meet the rest of the crew. Deike bagged one. J said he hit one. With light fading fast, everybody helped J find what would have been his second pig. They never found it. I stayed with Dieke. A butterball of a pig - 180 lb cleanly shot sow with plenty of fat. I found out that it was his 69th birthday that day as well. What a present! I helped him gut it and carry it out of the ravine. He had a bad back so I ended up carry it out of the ditch. I was exhausted but floating from all the adrenaline.
Back at the lodge, the group was in a great mood. The beer was flowing as quickly as the retelling of the hunts and shit talking. The fire was roaring. The boys found some already cut madron earlier in the day. I never seen grown men excited about cut wood. I come to find out that is great wood for a fire. It burns super hot and leaves little ash. But it is almost a shame to burn as it makes for beautiful cabinets. I digress. All was right with the world. It was time to skin the hogs. With a separate cleaning shed and hanging hooks, the property is dialed in to handle large game. With two man to a hog, we got it done in no time in about 45 minutes. J asked for some help and I dug right in. It was about 45 F out but I didn’t notice as I was on point to clean this hog. It feels good knowing I can properly clean and dress a hog or deer now. The last thing I remember of the evening is JHead telling me to go to bed. He said I had a beer can in my hand and a smile on my face asleep in the chair near the fire.
On Sunday, I got Dan to the airport without incident. Back at my place as I was getting the smoke and dirt off me, I wasn’t thinking of why I didn’t get a pig. Rather, I was thinking of when I was going to be able to have the chance again and how great it is to get Dan out of Manhattan. It was a bang up experience and the fact that I shared that with my friend Dan and new friends J, Pierce, Deike and JHead made it all that much better. I hope I’ll get to hunt with those guys again.
Saturday I woke early to a cold wind and Dan bitching about how sick he was. A few cups of cowboy coffee and standing near the fire warmed us up and we were ready to go. Dan and I jumped into JHead’s truck and we were off. We got the full tour of the property in search of pigs. I reckon we saw about 10 different microclimates in our pursuit – grasslands, redwood forest, above the tree line rocks and scrub, oak savannas, chaparral, coniferous forests, wetlands, etc. About three hours into the drive as we rounded a bend, JHead slammed on the breaks and said, “Pigs”. Quickly, we all got out of the truck to take a look. 500 yards away where three wild hogs – two rust colored medium ones and a big black one. These pigs were more domestic then Eurasian. I didn’t really know the difference until my second pig hunt. More on that later... Standing there, JHead told us which one we should go after. The smaller of the three would be our target as it would be easier to haul out and taste better. With that and yours truly leading the way, we stalked those pigs for over 300 yards straight down the mountain hiding behind trees, bushes and rock outcroppings as cover. It was the longest and quietest 300 yards of my life. My heart was coming out of my chest. I wanted to bag a pig. I got to 180 yards away and decided we couldn’t get any closer without spooking them. Dan was behind me and he finally caught up with me. We got on our bellies and inched a few yards closer to the lip of a ridge overlooking the pigs. Safeties off. “1….2…wait.” “It is on 3 or just before?” “Ok, let’s practice.” “1, 2, shot.” “Got it?” Got it.” We waited about a minute, which felt like an hour, until the target pig got into position. It never really did though. Plus, to make matters worse, the pigs were getting skittish because cows were slowly encroaching. “Ready?“ “Ready”. “ 1, 2” Bang! We both missed. I saw my bullet hit the mud just below the chest and almost behind. I don’t know how close Dan’s shot was. The pigs scattered and we got to our feet pissed but fired up. JHead was planning on meeting us around the mountain we just walked down. The entire walk back to the truck, Dan and I were kicking ourselves for missing that pig. Lessons learned – when you got shot on any pig, take it. Counting down with your buddy never works.
The rest of the afternoon was spent driving back and retelling our stalk and miss. JHead was impressed with our stalk. Dan and I were still riding the high of having the chance at a pig. We caught some shit from the other guys about missing but was consoled by the fact 180 yard shot is no layup. Beginners luck I guess. After a bite and some rest, we decided to make another go of it. From the bottom of the hill of the lodge, Dan and I walked in one direction and Deike and J going in the other. After another hour or so of walking, Dan and I didn’t see another pig or fresh tracks so we headed back to the lodge. After a beer, we got a call from J saying they got a pig. JHead and I got jumped back into his truck to go help J out. J’s was a perfect 150 lbs boar cleanly shot. We helped to dress it and schlepped it back over a mile to the truck. We all got packed up and started to head back to the lodge. I was in the first car back to the lodge and when we got there, we heard three quick shots. Jhead and I immediately turned around to meet the rest of the crew. Deike bagged one. J said he hit one. With light fading fast, everybody helped J find what would have been his second pig. They never found it. I stayed with Dieke. A butterball of a pig - 180 lb cleanly shot sow with plenty of fat. I found out that it was his 69th birthday that day as well. What a present! I helped him gut it and carry it out of the ravine. He had a bad back so I ended up carry it out of the ditch. I was exhausted but floating from all the adrenaline.
Back at the lodge, the group was in a great mood. The beer was flowing as quickly as the retelling of the hunts and shit talking. The fire was roaring. The boys found some already cut madron earlier in the day. I never seen grown men excited about cut wood. I come to find out that is great wood for a fire. It burns super hot and leaves little ash. But it is almost a shame to burn as it makes for beautiful cabinets. I digress. All was right with the world. It was time to skin the hogs. With a separate cleaning shed and hanging hooks, the property is dialed in to handle large game. With two man to a hog, we got it done in no time in about 45 minutes. J asked for some help and I dug right in. It was about 45 F out but I didn’t notice as I was on point to clean this hog. It feels good knowing I can properly clean and dress a hog or deer now. The last thing I remember of the evening is JHead telling me to go to bed. He said I had a beer can in my hand and a smile on my face asleep in the chair near the fire.
On Sunday, I got Dan to the airport without incident. Back at my place as I was getting the smoke and dirt off me, I wasn’t thinking of why I didn’t get a pig. Rather, I was thinking of when I was going to be able to have the chance again and how great it is to get Dan out of Manhattan. It was a bang up experience and the fact that I shared that with my friend Dan and new friends J, Pierce, Deike and JHead made it all that much better. I hope I’ll get to hunt with those guys again.
Father Lee!
I’m giving serious consideration to having my buddy Gene ordained in the State of CA to conduct my nuptials. The stoic face, black robe, white collar, smell of Coors on the breath, rubbing his chest as he reads the vows and instead of saying "I do" he'd have the lady and I purse our lips together and do a quick double nod.
Hard not to think of Gilch when I see Jason Segel.
I have a Plant Earth segment idea - man encroaches on the wild and the wild thrives. My office building invades a nice swath of beautiful wilderness. I see turkeys, deer, hawks, coyotes, kestrels, vultures, etc on a weekly basis. My cube mates and I have been keeping tabs on a particular hawk. A red tail hawk we think. This hawk is a stud and seeing him rebuff two large crows in mid-air and winning is good stuff. My personal favorite is when he perches on the window ledge with the days fresh catch. I'd want Keith David to do the voice over.
Last time I did sake bombs the sushi restaurant burned down that night and has since not reopened. Last time my buddy Drew did a sake bomb he ended up with a spark plug. Not sure what the morale is there.
RIP Wayman Tisdale.
Michael Vick deserves another chance in the NFL. He is no saint but I would be pressed to find any saints in the NFL. Madden, maybe?
Not entirely sure why the Catholic Church has its panties in a bunch over President Obama speaking at Notre Dame. Aren’t there bigger fish to fry? If I was in the Catholic Church, I’d be more worried about the Pope’s comments about condoms and AIDS in Africa. Terrible.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Really Neat Stuff
Why do freshwater boats have carpet and saltwater boats don’t?
Perfect Sunday morning = reading Sunday NYTimes, Major Dickinson’s Blend from Peets is starting to kick in, fire in the fireplace and Versus marathon of fishing shows on the tele.
The new career direction my buddy Gilch is on sounds promising. I hope it’s a fruitful one.
What’s up with the gladiator revival in women’s shoes? I didn’t particularly like them in junior high and my feelings haven’t changed since.
Below is a super cheap, environmentally safe and effective cleaner for just about anything. This recipe is from Dave Letterman's mom which my madre swears by. Cleans almost all surfaces. The alcohol kills germs and makes if dry fast. You can cut recipe in half to make a small bottle. Otherwise, pour in a large spray bottle.
4 cups distilled water
1/4 c rubbing alcohol
1/4 cup white vinegar
Couple drops Dawn dishwashing detergent
Perfect Sunday morning = reading Sunday NYTimes, Major Dickinson’s Blend from Peets is starting to kick in, fire in the fireplace and Versus marathon of fishing shows on the tele.
The new career direction my buddy Gilch is on sounds promising. I hope it’s a fruitful one.
What’s up with the gladiator revival in women’s shoes? I didn’t particularly like them in junior high and my feelings haven’t changed since.
Below is a super cheap, environmentally safe and effective cleaner for just about anything. This recipe is from Dave Letterman's mom which my madre swears by. Cleans almost all surfaces. The alcohol kills germs and makes if dry fast. You can cut recipe in half to make a small bottle. Otherwise, pour in a large spray bottle.
4 cups distilled water
1/4 c rubbing alcohol
1/4 cup white vinegar
Couple drops Dawn dishwashing detergent
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)