Tuesday, October 26

"Elmer Fudding"

0430: The obnoxious Alarm goes off . "We have to walk up the mountain in the dark", Kathryn says, "so we can watch the trail the bear cross to get to the blackberries when the sun comes up". I stumble to the bathroom grumbling, while Kathryn hits the coffee maker. She knows that she'll have to shoot me (a bear without coffee) if I don't have it soon. Especially after the previous night of imbibing at the local watering hole while schmoozing the locals for info on where the deer are. Luckily this coastal home is wired so that music plays throughout the house, thank God that Micheal Buble is here to serenade me awake.

Empty the bladder, wash my face--without soap, comb out my tendrils, attempt to braid my hair, brush teeth, and layer up in my new hunting outfit! Woohoo. For my inaugural bear hunt Kathryn presents me with a shiny new camo knife for my belt. I was thrilled to have more bling added to my ensemble.

Day pack, with wipes, flashlight, hand warmers, granola/protein bars, compass, bone saw, survey tape, water and gloves....CHECK

0530: All loaded, jump into jeep.

0545: Arrive at hallowed grounds. Quietly get out of vehicle, load weapons, put on pack, don a flashlight and head up the trail. Quietly... walking almost sideways...mid trail to soften our footsteps. My boots are new, and of course one has a squeak. I follow Kathryn in the true form of Bugs Bunny, mimicking Elmer Fud as he hunts for wabbits. Shhhh....be vewwy vewwy quiet....squeak....thud....squeak...

Mind you, it is pitch black in the coastal forest. It's dense, it's windy, and the sounds of this forest are much different from the sounds of the Central Oregon forest I grew up with. It's noisier, bushes crackling, grass rustling, leaves dancing, more nocturnal animals moving about the landscape. My ears were not accustomed to these noises and therefore my hearing was on overload as we are ascending the mountain trail in the dark. In my head I was screaming, "What was that? Or that? What the heck made that noise? Is that a bear? I don't even have a pistol in the event a Cougorilla or Wild Mountain Gazora should spring from the bushes to eat me. It’ll take some time to get my hearing "filter" in order. I wasn't scared of the noises, only wanted to what crepuscular being made them.

0600: Kathryn stops, She asks, “Ok, have you hunted bear?" ..."Nope, Never hunted teddy bears!" She says, "Ok, so you might hear grunting, or growling in the blackberries, or crunching and smacking as they eat." I nod my head and we again ascend. thud, squeak, thud, squeak.

My senses on overload, beams from the flashlight illuminate the trail where I acutely observe that the sea of blackberry bushes are within two feet of us!

Hmmm....my mind reels....it's pitch black, climbing a trail within 2 feet of where these 200 # plus animals might be startled, have been known to growl and charge, and I have no weapon. I ask Kathryn if she has a pistol. "No, why?"

I said, "Well................ I just want you to know that if anything so much as farts in those bushes in this darkness, that all you're gonna see outta me is a$$ hole and elbows!"

She giggles and says, "If you scream, I'm gonna be pissed."

I promised I wouldn't scream like a girl.....in my mind praying that I wouldn't have to keep that promise should the need arise.

Monday, October 18

The preparation for duck hunt

I pull into Pacific City at 9 pm on Friday, driving like a bat out of hell, feeling like my hair is on fire.
I unload all of my "supplies" to which my host states, "Sheesh, ya moving in?" "NO!" I sarcastically retorted. I have never been duck hunting before and you weren't exactly forthcoming with information,GIRLS NEED SPECIFICS, therefore I thought it best to be prepared. The host scoffed and said nothing further. I must admit, that I had sprawled my belongings all over his front room while attempting to get some semblence of organization.
My host lovingly refers to me as "That Girl or This Girl". I know he knows my name because we're friends on Facebook.This "girl" is making you lasagna tomorrow and spent over $100 in ingredients, I thought to myself, deal with my effin mess for a bit. I'll clean it. SHEESH!
Neoprene waders, CHECK,Layers and layers of camouflage clothing, CHECK, Neoprene gloves, CHECK, 2 boxes of waterfowl 2 3/4 #2 shot gun shells (not sure what the numbers and measurements mean at this time). CHECK, Camo burlap, CHECK, Life Jacket, CHECK,Sleeping bag, hand warmers, long johns, and munchies. CHECK CHECK CHECK...I wish they made tooshy warmers......

Alarm goes off at 0330. GOOD LORD that is early, I swear I just put my head on the pillow. This hunting stuff is messing with my beauty sleep. The bags are forming under my eyes, hair stringy and disheveled.

 I WONT FIND A HUSBAND OUT THERE ANYWAY....








Wednesday, October 13

Preparation

Preparation and knowledge is key to any endeavor, and of course the right outfit. A gal must be prepared and fitted properly for her excursions. Now, Goodwill is my shop of choice for camp clothing items on a budget. You find over-sized sweaters, snow pants, vests, jackets that can be soiled without worry. There used to be a sea of camouflage in Goodwill, and now not a stitch. I enjoy Bimart for all of my fishing needs, and I know my father used them for his hunting supplies. So off I went….


Tip #1 Bimart does not have a women’s hunting, clothing section. Do not be discouraged when you have to wear a LG men’s pant to accommodate those lovely hips and thighs ladies!. You will be pleased when your waist is swimming, because then it’s time to accessorize. After all, “frosting yourself” can be fun in camo!. Picking out your camouflage depends on the area that you are hunting; refer to your local guide service for the pattern they recommend .You will need a good belt that will hold your new “hunting-bling” (knife, bone-saw, compass, flashlight…etc) maybe a day pack for bottle of water, protein bars, whistle, rubber gloves ( in case you kill an animal) , survey tape to mark your spot, first aid for yourself…etc ( we’ll get into that at a later date)

Tip #2 Good boots are a must! A good mid calf boot is an item you cannot afford to be cheap with. Danner, Carhart, Wolverine, ….do some research, see what you want out of them and then try some on. I tried a pair and walked around the store shopping for another hour before returning them to the shelf to get an idea on how they feel. Then treat them per manufacturer’s instructions. This doesn’t mean treat them to lunch, this is to weatherproof them, soften them and give YOU extra protection while wearing them.

Tip #3 DO NOT wash your huntin’ gear and use your snuggly, fresh fabric softener. It smells wonderful and feels soft to us ladies, but it is an assault to nature’s nose and all that live there. They will flee in terror from your crisp, fresh linen scent. I washed my new gear with soap, and then did an extra rinse. There are products to purchase and wash your gear in that are considered “scent blockers”. And for those that are bow hunting, you can stuff your clothes in a bag full of grass clippings for a month and spray urine all over them. (It’s special made for that) Personally, I am not at the point that I am ready to bath in “Pee de Deer” or roll in fecal material in order to “bag my game”. I will however, refrain from my bath and body works lotions and body sprays.
More to come....

Tuesday, October 5

Reaquainting with Mother Nature and her Offspring.


Growing up in rural Central Oregon, camping, fishing, and hunting were normal pursuits. My daddy had a pistol in my hands at 5 years old. We were taught life and death lessons, sometimes by harsh means. I remember a camping trip when I was young (maybe 6, my brother 4 ish), where we had a bowl of dog food out for the camp robbers who would eat from our laps, eventually the squirrels and chipmunks partook of the feast, tails flicking, scurrying about, quarreling with one another. We very much enjoyed our interactions with the forest creatures. Then, one of us kids was found playing with a firearm (I think my brother) Daddy took that pistol and shot one of our beloved furry creatures. With tear filled eyes and heads hung low we were made to LOOK, and SEE what the firearms DO. That sweet little thing was split wide open, innards exposed with the undigested dog food, still warm with the remnants of life. Firearms were NOT toys, they are made to KILL. LESSON LEARNED.
We were educated in hunters safety, how to track, keeping quiet in the woods, survival techniques, dressing your bounty, while laughing at the dogs trying to bury it from the ground up, or watch in awe, appreciating the circle of life as the coyotes and turkey vultures descended on the field dressed entrails, cleaning the forest and providing sustenance. I would "gut" my own fish and bait my own hooks. “Girls were just as capable as men!”,my father would say. I never killed an animal while hunting with my family. Only once, did I shoot and field dress an animal as I was taught, though it involved a spot light and a 22 and the season was unclear. However, it was for a needy family.
I have a held an internal love affair with the outdoors despite life’s twists and turns that have prevented me from truly embracing and enjoying its pleasures. I promise to take time, rekindling my almost forgotten relationship with the natural world by introducing myself once again, allowing the exploration of one another during brief, yet highly passionate encounters, to quietly listen to its breathy voice dancing in the leaves,  succumbing to the cool, dewy kisses as the glowing orb awakens from its nocturnal repose,allowing the sunsets warm embrace as it adjourns,  musing to the sounds of heavens tears or time for abeyance listening and watching the roaring waters. When I am scorned I promise to learn from it. I promise to respect nature’s offspring and their world, by packing out what I bring in, only shoot if I have a clear shot, and will love it with all that I have. This marriage between me and the outdoors has lasted my entire life and will last until after my death, after all….it will encase my body until it can no longer be defined. I will simply be one with the earth, my spirit free to be with God.
I hope you enjoy following my progress of this relationship renewal. I will share my stumbles, falls and accomplishments. I welcome any insight that you might provide me.