Bearly Thanksgiving

My family and I spent a lovely Thanksgiving at my brother Jim's house in Woodbury, Connecticut. We were outside setting up for our annual archery tournament and the kids and I discovered some interesting tracks in the backyard. Being trained scouts, they started following the tracks by carefully walking directly in the tracks. I managed to take this picture with my iPhone before it was stomped out.

My nephew, Jack, was the lead tracker. He followed the tracks under the porch. That made me a bit nervous since we couldn't see that there were exit tracks and under the porch would be a great place to sleep for the winter.

The bear just checked out the garbage can and moved on around the house and into the next yard.  It was something we didn't expect to see in suburban Connecticut.

The trophy held hostage in New Hampshire

It was an underwhelming second annual Boushie archery tournament. The champion from last year, niece Jessica, was unable to defend her crown due to bad weather. As for the competition this year, let's just say that very few of the arrows found the actual target, never mind the bulls eye. Arrows had to be retrieved from everywhere. (Good thing there wasn't a bear around and we had to defend ourselves. It is possible that the bear could have stepped on an arrow.

This year we were joined by Pat, my daughter Maddie's boyfriend (third from the right in the dinner picture below). What we didn't know was that Pat was a ringer. He taught kids archery in summer camp. OK, he wasn't much of a ringer. Truth was the competition was rather lacking. As I said, few arrows found the target. Besides we just wanted to make Pat feel welcome. Personally, I think he would have felt just as welcome in second place.

Indian princess aiming

bird-frying chef takes aim

I was able to defend my runner-up crown and there was no trophy to be given to Pat. Not because he didn't win, but because there literally was no trophy to give him. It was still in New Hampshire. That took care of the dilemma of what to do when a non-Boushie wins the Boushie archery trophy.

I think Jim and Pam were very happy to get their house back. The jury is still out on where the 2015 third annual Boushie archery tournament will take place. The first thing we have to do is get the trophy back from New Hampshire. The second thing we have to do is practice! I haven't shot a bow since the tournament last year. It was a sad showing. Perhaps I will make a trophy for second place - I would have won it two years in a row.

the crew, from left to right, front row, then back, daughter Katie, nephew Jack, niece Emma, me (Uncle Donut - my indian name), wife Karen, pa-in-law Norm, mom Althea, dad Sherdan, sister-in-law Pam, bro Jim, former archery teacher Pat, and indian-princess-daughter Maddie

Black Flies and Trout Fishing

(as published in the Mountain Gazette, June 20, 2013, p. 10)

Like baseball and football, fly fishing has its own season. The forest browns turn into green. The days grow longer. Your senses know the trout will soon be rising for the fly. An annual May fishing trip only adds to this normal level of seasonal anticipation.

Snowmelt in May on the West Branch of the Ausable

Once again, my dad, brother, and cousin met at the end of May to fish the West Branch of the Ausable in Wilmington, NY. Unlike last year, the trout seemed better educated this year, while our casting should probably have repeated a grade. I shouldn’t include my cousin, Jim Boucher, in that statement. Jim is a good fly fisherman and has guided us to some nice fish the last couple of years.

Normally the West Branch of the Ausable runs about 700 cubic feet per second. When we hit the river on Friday morning, the river was running at over 2,000 cubic feet per second. That’s a lot of water, but not as much as earlier in the week when the river was running at almost 10,000 cubic feet per second. Why so much water? You’ll recall that with the big storm the end of May

that ruined so many local roads and driveways also dumped over 13 inches of snow on Mount Mansfield. Well the same storm dumped 3 feet of snow on Whiteface Mountain. The Ausable is right beneath Whiteface, hence the increased flow.

When I first stepped in the river, my first thought was that if my 10-year old nephew Jack had come…whoosh, there’d go Jack down the river. As it was, wading was tough. The water was a refreshing 54 degrees, but would heat up to a boiling 57 degrees by the end of the weekend.

Our compensation for the high, fast water was that the black flies were out in full force. When I go fly fishing I can usually outfit several people. I will bring extra waders, an extra rod, reel; you get the idea. You’d think I would have brought at least one mesh head net, but nope. Luckily, the black flies liked chewing on my brother Kirk much more than they liked me. Poor Kirk. It certainly adds flavor to the experience. (Jim said that the black flies didn’t bother him. A day later, with bite welts on both sides of his neck, Jim clarified. He reiterated that the flies did not bother him, but added that he never said they didn’t bite him.) Basically, Friday beat us up. No wonder that my dad and Kirk didn’t want to go out fishing again after dinner.

Jim and I were game to return to the river to fish at dusk. We stepped out of the truck after arriving at a likely spot…and the black flies attacked. At Jim’s suggestion, I tied on a “usual” fly. It’s called a usual because it usually works. As the flies feasted we fished. It’s funny, the flies don’t bother you as much when you catch some fish. 

Jim had put me in a good spot where we could see at least two trout rising. I managed to catch (and release) them both. The “usual” did not disappoint – and I probably would not have selected it without Jim’s suggestion.

So where’s the picture? I knew my dad and brother would not believe I caught anything, so the first thing I did upon bringing my first fish to net was to take a picture with my iPhone, which was in a zip-lock baggie. You can see the fish, but the photo won’t win any awards.

Sherdan and Jim trying to find less educated trout

Saturday started out with more of the same, biting black flies and no fish. Jim loves to fish, but he always tries to put us each in a good position to catch fish. I had my opportunity Friday night and that was it for me catching fish. Dad caught his fish Saturday morning.

Kirk almost hung it up after that morning. His waders were leaking and his feet were wet and cold. The black flies continued to torment him and he wasn’t getting as much as a strike. It is amazing how much better the world looks when you are well fed and back in dry clothes. Kirk’s second effort in the afternoon (in new, waterproof waders) got him his trout.

Kirk lands a nice rainbow trout

Once we had our fish, Jim went to work. He caught 5 or 6 nice rainbows. I believe they were trained fish who recognized him, recently released hatchery fish, or otherwise gullible, easy fish left over from last year. Jim certainly highlighted the fact that there were fish in the river, high water or not, and they could be caught.

  

While trout fishing comes each year to the North Country, no two seasons are the same. My dad and I told my brother, “You should have been here last year.” “You should be here next year” also applies. The only way to make sure you are on the river when the conditions are perfect is to make sure you are on the river consistently. This is true even when “consistently” means the one family trip each year. Happy days afield.

Send me your best game camera photos with some background information – general area the picture taken (unless it is a trophy animal), time of year, etc. I’ll include the best ones in to the Mountain Gazette over the next several issues.

Please visit www.sportingafield.blogspot.com for more news, musings, and interviews or to leave questions or comments.

Bird Dogs are more expensive than planned, Part 2 of 3

Katie and me riding in the car.
Katie:  "Daddy, we thought that Mommy would be really happy with the puppy, but she wasn't.  She was really mad.  But it isn't my fault right?  Because I'm just a kid.  You're big and you should have known better.  Right?"
Me:  "That's right honey.  It is Daddy's fault.  He should have known better."

Katie loves the new puppy

Burdock was a good puppy.  He was very sweet and easy to house train.  I took a week or so from work to start his training.  Coworkers commented that I took more time off after getting the puppy than I had taken off when my girls were born.  That may be true, but my mother-in-law didn't offer to come over to help out when I brought the puppy home like she did when the girls came home.  And while Karen had no interest in anything puppy-related, she had stopped working (outside of the home) and reluctantly picked up with puppy care when I was at work.

Burdock's arrival put a distinct chill in my relationship with my children's mother.  In fact, for the better part of a month Karen and I hardly spoke.  It was a time of quiet reflection.  One day, while I was at work, Karen was bringing Burdock back into the house after he took care of his puppy business and she found Maddie "choking" on a Barbie shoe.  At least that is the story.  Karen seemed to think it was rather thoughtless of me to expect her to watch both a two-year old and a puppy.  I found it somewhat ironic that I'd get in trouble because the two-year old was chewing on things and not the puppy.

Something had to give.  I really liked that puppy, but I new the children were very fond of their mother.  Would it be the puppy or the wife.  I considered my options.  There weren't many.  I told Karen I'd get rid of the puppy.  The Soviets won the Cold War.

Brother Kirk gets a new pal

I didn't feel right advertising or trying to sell Burdock.  He was a very good puppy and I hated to see him go.  Katie wasn't too happy about it either.  She kept reminding me, "but Daddy, I really love that puppy."  It was a fun time, really.  Then I got an idea.  I wondered if my brother Kirk would like a puppy.

So I called up Kirk, who lived in Connecticut at the time, to see if he'd like a great little puppy.  He said he'd have to ask his wife Anita.  I told him that I thought it was a good idea to ask his wife before bringing home a puppy.  (I may be slow, but I can be taught.)  Kirk got back on the phone and said he could have the puppy, but he had to promise Anita she could have another baby.  I don't know whether that is true or not, but they did have another daughter after Kirk got Burdock.  I used to tell my niece Jessica that she needed to be very nice to Burdock because she owed him a lot!

We drove up to Connecticut to visit my parents and to meet Kirk to give him Burdock.  Kirk said he was getting dagger eyes from Katie as he led Burdock away.  Katie was certainly sad to see her puppy go, but I'm sure she never gave Kirk dagger eyes.  She didn't learn how to do that until she was a teenager.

Bird Dogs are more expensive than planned, Part 3 of 3

Burdock was gone and my fragile marriage was restored.  I asked Karen that since I had gotten rid of the puppy was she going to return her new shoes?  To paraphrase, her response was, "no!"

The Cold War was over, but was I happy?  I really enjoyed Burdock and I was now bird dog-less.  How could I ever grow up to have an outdoor blog without having a bird dog?  What to do?

Maddie helping to pick out a new puppy

They say that money can't buy love.  That may be true, but money did buy me a second chance at a bird dog.  As part of my contrition, I agreed to several home improvements Karen wanted.  We installed hardwood floors upstairs and put in a full bath in the finished basement for guests - both significant investments at the time.

In the months following Burdock's relocation to Connecticut, Maddie learned to play with toys rather than trying to eat them and I had been a very good renovating husband.  I thought the time might be right to ask Karen if we could get another bird dog.  She said sure, like nothing had ever happened.

Katie with Tupper on our way home

I called Del Rossi and told him that my brother had been taking care of Burdock and had become very attached to him so we decided Kirk could keep Burdock and we'd get another puppy.  That seemed to be a better story than I had to give the dog away, but six months later I was in the market for another puppy.

Karen was a good sport and the whole family drove back to Cap May, New Jersey to pick out a puppy.  The girls played with about 5 puppies for quite a while.  Finally, one puppy just walked up into Katie's lap and fell asleep.  Katie looked up at me and said, "Daddy, I want this one."  And that is the one we got.  We named him Tupper, after Tupper Lake, where both my parents are from.

Karen learns to love again

For me, Tupper was a great dog.  He was easy to train and was a solid hunting companion.  He also developed into a tremendous office dog, joining me each day, without fail, in my home office.  He didn't work overtime, but was solid throughout the day.  He is gone now, but he is remembered fondly and is still missed.  I never would have gotten Tupper if I hadn't given Burdock to Kirk...and without Burdock...Jessica?  Who knows?  Things seem to have worked out fine.

Bird Dogs are more expensive than planned, Part 1 of 3

Back in our days in Virginia, when I was just a budding sportsman wannabe, I had a dream of having my own bird dog.  I researched breeds and research breeders.  Occasionally, the anticipation of an event ends up being far different than the eventual reality of it.  This is especially true if you don't share your puppy plans with your wife.  Trust me; this I know.

First, some background.  My wife Karen had decided that she'd like to leave work and stay home to raise our daughters.  Katie was 5 and Maddie was 2 by the time this was economically viable.  I figured that with Karen staying home, there couldn't be a better time to get that Brittany puppy I had always wanted (since I talked myself into it).  While we hadn't discussed it, I was certain Karen would warm up to the idea of a puppy once she met the little fella.  I mean, who doesn't love a puppy.  Heck, I'd even take some vacation time to house train the pup Karen's last week of work.

I found a good breeder up in Cape May, New Jersey - only about 3 hours from where we lived.  Katie was in on the plan.  No 5-year old ever kept a secret better than Katie and boy was she excited.  I told Karen I was taking Katie "fishing" for the day.  (Note to new fathers, if you lie to your wife don't involve the children.)  We had to swing by my office in DC on our way out because my coworkers had held a puppy shower for me and all the new dog stuff was in the office.  Katie thought this was a great adventure.

Where was Maddie you might ask.  Maddie was at daycare oblivious to my evil plans and trying to ingest small toys.  This would also play a part in my inevitable downfall.

Katie and I arrive at Quail Hollow Kennels and it is time to pick a puppy.  Steve Del Rossi brings out the litter I was interested in and Katie and I pick out a nice puppy.  He is a cute little orange and white Brittany.  We name him Burdock.  We are pretty certain Karen will be surprised and delighted.  She was certainly surprised.

Burdock's arrival.  Katie is happy, Bentley is not impressed

When we arrived home at the townhouse all the neighbors came out to see the new puppy.  I am sure all the neighborhood wives were wishing they had such a spontaneous and thoughtful husband.  Boy, wasn't Karen the lucky woman?!

Katie and I bring Burdock in the house to get him used to his surroundings so he will feel comfortable peeing all over the floor.  The phone rings and it is Karen.  Everything was going great until I answered the phone.  I'm talking with Karen and Burdock decides that he should say hello, so he starts to bark...just a little.  All of a sudden my sweet bride is silent.  "That better not be a puppy," she says.  "What?  That noise, I'm not sure what that is," I lie (again).  "Huh," I think.  "She doesn't seem to be too pleased with this yet."

Now the neighbors know that this puppy is a surprise to Karen, so they decide to wait outside for Karen to come home from work to see her reaction to my thoughtfulness.  Karen arrives, looks at the puppy, looks at me, drops off her work bag and leaves the house.  Katie picked up on Karen's mood right away.  She was a very perceptive child.  "Daddy, Mommy didn't seem happy to see the puppy."  I fed the girls dinner and waited for Karen to come back home.  She eventually did, with new shoes, the result of some shopping therapy.