#i bet the cattails were just as thick last fall

[t4tstarvingdog]

flying back to where i live tomorrow. horrible feeling i’ll never come back home though

[hpoutdoors]

Why Woodie-n’t You?

How hunting woodcock can increase your dog’s success with waterfowl.

By: Chad Fix

Most of us hunting dog owners think our dogs are the greatest things since sliced bread. We’re the soccer moms of the hunting community. The truth of the matter is 90% of hunting dogs are decent, at best; this is especially true in the duck hunting. It’s not the dog’s fault either – it’s us, the handlers.

We don’t look from an outside lens. The standard colloquialism in the duck hunting tribe: “I’ve got a great a duck dog. He’s pretty good with pheasants too when we’ve gone to the Dakotas.” Upon hearing this, I just think to myself: so he’s pretty good with pheasants in the thick stuff (cattails, hedgerows, etc.), but why is he good for nothing at finding crippled ducks that bury themselves in the exact, same cover?

I imagine if I actually asked this out loud, the conversation would go South as quick as a blue-winged teal even feels a semblance of an autumn chill. My hope would be that the conversation would be like the following conversation (or better!):

“Oh what are you talking about? He’s found some this past season. And it’s a cripple, we’re talking about here…those things are long gone…besides, they’re food for the foxes and eagles.”

(what a note of consolation at the end…anyway, back to the convo)

So if foxes and eagles can find them, why can’t your dog?

“Look, just the other day my dog made a 200 yard retrieve on the water.”

That’s, great! You should be proud of your dog, BUT what about all those cripples? It doesn’t make sense; your dog shouldn’t have a problem finding them in similar cover he finds pheasants. Am I wrong?

Please hear me out.

First off, we, as hunters, have a moral obligation to give fair chase to every animal we down. Why then is it okay to easily shrug off cripples that go into thick cover? We owe it them.

Further, you owe it to your dog. They’ll get the same praise from you – just like the time when they made that 200 yard retrieve on the water. Which only encourages them even more to hit the thick stuff even harder the next time – there’s a reward!

                                                         GIve your dog more credit in this.

Call it hypothesizing, but there’s a truth to be heard: when a dog is exposed to a certain type of cover they may familiarize the scent of it with the game they’re scenting out; if a dog has been exposed to pheasants in cattails, it may have learned that a “Good boy” is when they sniff out and retrieve a pheasant – meanwhile, not giving two sniffs to a duck because a “Good boy” for a duck is when it’s retrieved on the water or cut corn field. Essentially there could be a disconnect.

The connection can be made through exposure.

If it’s hunting season for you, the best form of exposure you can provide for your dog is through pass shooting on land. Look to add a couple of these hunts to your schedule for some needed change. My old man and I have been fortunate to pass shoot a wood duck roost for the past few years with our dogs. It has made a world of difference because it has a perfect diversity of thick cover: we hunker down in tall grass with the dogs, behind us are woods, and in front of us are cattails.

As the birds pass, they’ll fall in each type of cover – given their flight path, how fast they’re going and how long it takes / how many shots fired before a bird is dropped. Thereby giving opportunity for the pups to associate birds in all three types of cover.

After one or two hunts, your four-legged companion will get their reps in – pending you being able to drop some. If you do, be sure to put a good mark on the bird(s) that fall before pulling up on more flying overhead. Birds don’t stray too far from where they land if there is cover for them to hide in.

You want to set your dog up for success, so putting them on the exact area it falls is the best option to do such. When you bring your dog over to the marked fall, position your dog downwind of the bird, if possible. It’s a cardinal sin not to and I can’t count how many hunters just go in with their dogs without thinking that through. It’s those same hunters that were the big pheasant hunters mentioned before and the ones I wonder if they even know how critical wind plays into hunting pheasants: hunt into the wind for the dog’s sake and, secondly, because pheasants generally fly with the wind. Just my two cents, but now I’m digressing…

So what if you don’t have that ideal pass shooting spot? No problem! If you’re in the Mississippi or Atlantic Flyway, you’re in luck. There’s another migratory “woodie” you can hunt: the American Woodcock. Before snarling your nose at me, hear me out.

They are an absolute hoot to hunt. They’re the reason why my girl, after a catastrophic encounter when she was a pup, has turned the corner on becoming a solid duck dog too. “Yeah, but woodcock eat worms. That’s gross!”

Know what else eats worms? All those bluegill you caught this past spring on their spawning beds. I didn’t see you complaining after your fourth plate of filleted, fried gluttony. While I’m at it, those jumbos (perch) and crapps (crappies) eat maggots! Walleyes eat leeches for Pete’s sake. Turn your eyes to birds of a feather. The most highly coveted upland game for the table, the ruffed grouse, is found in the same cover. The first one I ever shot in my life had a garter snake it its crop! It was the best tasting bird I’ve ever had.

Pluck a woodcock and put it against your favorite duck species on the spit and see which one tastes better. I’ll put $100 down that the woodcock will taste better.

                                               Laugh all you want at their prominent beaks.                                                        There's more than meets the eye.

That’s what I told my “duck-hunting-or-nothing” buddy during the annual “Waterfowl Weekend” that he hosts for a handful of his friends and family. In years past, we hunted all day for 3-4 days straight. Normally the birds are flying in the mornings and loaf the rest of the day. I believe we’ve only shot one bird out of the 5 Waterfowl Weekends I’ve attended over the years during the afternoon hunts, and that was during the middle of a migration – sadly, we just were in a bad location.

Getting to bad, last year’s Waterfowl Weekend was atrocious. We were in between migrations. The dogs were getting restless. We were too; after the second, full day of hunting without seeing a single bird in the two different counties we hunted, I asked my buddy if we could change up our afternoon activity for the third day.

Instead of hitting the water, I suggested hitting the woods. It’ll give opportunity for all of us (dogs included) to at least get a change of scenery, do a little walking where the leaves were dropping, and maybe put some meat on the table.

My “duck-hunting-or-nothing” buddy graciously relented. When the time came, we limited out in twenty minutes. His grin said it all when we rallied up before walking back to the truck.

“I don’t know why I haven’t done that before, but you got me hooked for life. It took a couple birds to get used to shooting in thick cover, but I think it helped me to key in on the bird and not worry about the cover around me…It’s good for Leo (his 2 year old chessie) too – bird diversity in different cover only helps!”

So it not only helped him change perspectives on shooting better through cover (as this sometimes can be the case when hunting out of a duck blind), but it also benefitted his dog. Win, win!

                                                  The next day he also got his first grouse

They also have a little oily, funky taste – just like our beloved waterfowl. And, their breasts are red meat – surprisingly enough – something I’d bet our pups may be able scent as well. I could be stretching it on that, but who knows (considering their olfactory acumen). The similarities can help your dog associate that oily, funky smell to woods, bogs, tall grass, creek beds, and edges of cattails – where woodcock tend to reside. This, in turn, can help to turn on the proverbial light bulb upstairs in their noggins. They’ll be versed to associate that smell to various cover.

What if you don’t have woodcock in your area? Try to walk for snipe after a duck hunt, or if your state permits it, have a blind mate paddle around close to shore with your boat and see if you can jump any.

Another great option is getting into some dove shoots, if your state allows it. Typically you’ll be setting up on tree lines, so you’ll probably be getting some thick cover for your dog to work in. Dove shoots provide the bonus for reinforcing steadiness prior to the season.

And if you’re reading this in the offseason, then you’re in luck! You’ll have the opportunity to get in some offseason reps, then some dove hunting, and then on to the real show when the waterfowl season begins. But, first, let’s get into training.

Hopefully you have saved a duck wing or, better yet, freeze a small to medium sized duck, such as a teal, bufflehead or wood duck. If not, contact a local retriever club – they should have someone that could provide you one.

Start first with your mindset. Always put your dog in situations to succeed, especially when they’re learning something new. Challenging a dog has its time and place, but not at this point.

First, place the wing or bird on the edge of the cattails or tall, thick grass and have your dog retrieve it. Then slowly progress further into the cattails/thick grass by 3 foot intervals on a straight line. This helps keep the scent localized so the dog can find it easier. Think of it like a blood trail with deer; each spot you drop it will retain its indication that a bird was there. Your dog will then be encouraged to go deeper into the cover.

Remember to never just throw it in the cover as we’re not training the dog to mark the bird, but to scent the bird. In addition, it’ll give you the chance to bury the bird under cover, once your dog progresses successfully along.

That’s what it’s all about. Success is the greatest tool in the dog trainer’s tool box. Exposing your dog to success in various cover only makes them better.

I’ll be the first to say that my dog does not have the best nose. In fact, I be willing to say that your dog probably has a better one than hers. Remember earlier where the conversation was about finding cripples?

Well, my pup had a 95% success rate last season at finding crippled waterfowl. Since your dog has a better nose than mine, this translates to you and your pooch having an even higher percentage of success! In turn, you’ll have more meat in the freezer. Plus, who wouldn’t want to add more fond memories with our best friend? There’s something to be said about seeing your dog come out of the gnarly stuff with a bird you downed; if you have even the faintest of pulse, it’ll give you goosebumps.

Versatility is the name of the game. Think outside the box for a change. Quit being a soccer mom!

                                                         This won't be a sight you loathe

[bluebrightly]

Yes, it’s word play, but seriously, the unseasonably cold weather here in the Pacific northwest seems thoroughly unreasonable, to me at least. (We could talk about the futility of pairing reason with weather, but that would be another conversation). Seattle’s airport, Sea-Tac, marked its snowiest February on record before we were even half way through the month. The airport might get its coldest February on record, too. We’ve been locked into a nasty pattern of snow and cold for most of the month now, with more snow possible this week.

Winter weather in this part of the world normally consists of a tedious parade of gray days with plenty of drizzly rain and temperatures hovering around the mid 40’s F (7 C). We don’t have a lot of below-freezing days, and when it snows, it usually melts away in a day or two. Usually. But “usually” is just a memory, now that we’re stuck in this unreasonably unseasonable February.

Combine at least six inches of snow on barely plowed roads, temperatures consistently at or below freezing, and a declared state of emergency and you’ve got the perfect storm of difficult winter weather for our area. Then there were the cancelled flights, schools closed for days, impassable highways…we just don’t do snow that well. In these conditions a lovely walk outdoors has become a rare treat. I hadn’t realized until now that I’ve become spoiled by the region’s normally mild weather and the easy access to extraordinary natural habitats.

Of course, what we’re experiencing is nothing compared to many places in the US, Canada, and other places where snow is serious business and cold lasts all winter long.  When I lived in New York I was used to shoveling out my car and slipping and sliding down the sidewalks. Since moving here though, I’ve acclimated to a different reality and I’m just not used to real winter anymore. Imagine my distress when for a week, my go-to coffee shop either didn’t open at all or closed early. During the worst of it, when Seattle suffered through its “Snopocalypse” I had my own crisis, i.e. “OMG where am I going to get my espresso?”

Lest I sound unreasonable, I don’t expect any sympathy, especially from my hardy friends in colder places. This is actually more about a sense of wonder that our blue, spinning earth continues to bring us so many surprises. May it always be so, and may nature always have the upper hand.

***

It all began innocently enough with a light, rather picturesque coating of snow on the third of February.  At home, perfect little bird tracks in the snow and tiny ice balls in the nets protecting the fruit trees were a delightful novelty. The roads weren’t bad that day. Even the dirt road to Cranberry Lake was navigable, so I set out on a cold, careful walk in the woods. The forest was enchanting that afternoon, but my fingers got numb very quickly. I was grateful I had a warm home to return to.

  1. A dusting of snow at Cranberry Lake.

  2. Sword fern plants bowed down under coats of mealy-looking, icy snow in a dark corner of the woods.

  3. The birds were busy, leaving a maze of tracks in the thin layer of snow under the feeders. I singled out one little hop for a black and white.

  4. An enclosure to protect young fruit trees against deer was dotted with balls of ice.

  The next day it was bitter cold and the roads were icy. I took pictures indoors, photographed a deer through the window, and caught up on things at home.

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  Soon the roads improved and the sun came out, but it was still very cold. I drove to a local park one day, hoping the road around it was passable. The boat dock sustained storm damage but – Yes! – the road was open. I drove happily through the woods at the proscribed 10 mph speed limit, stopping to photograph a twisted Maritime juniper tree. After 20 minutes in the cold I retreated back to the parking lot. Hearing the vibration of blasting music coming from a car, I muttered curses under my breath. Then I saw two young women sitting in their car, watching the sunset, and they seemed to be having a great time. Suddenly I realized the music was from the Bach Cello Suites! My frown turned to a smile. What prompted them to choose Bach instead of a hit from this week’s Top 100? I don’t know, and maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised by their choice. I gave them a thumbs up and a big smile. What a nice send-off to that icy-cold day.

  6. Looking up into the dead branches of a Maritime juniper tree. Imagine standing under this noble tree while listening to a Bach Cello Suite.

  7. The svelte mid-section of another maritime juniper tree.

  8. As the sun set that day it left an orange glow behind the Olympic Mountains, 60 miles away.

  A few days later there was another round of snow, this time in the form of big, wet flakes falling softly overnight, leaving clumps of the cottony stuff everywhere. It was still snowing that morning but I set out for the coffee shop anyway, creeping along on clean white roads. Hardly anyone was out. After getting coffee I drove around March Point and tried to photograph the snow falling but there was little light to work with, and once again my fingers numbed in minutes. Back at home, I noticed our little creek was an important source of fresh water for puffy little Dark-eyed Junco’s that were endlessly flitting back and forth between feeder and stream.

  9. This little creek is dry as a bone in summer.

  10. Cattails wore top hats of snow over their fluffy seed heads on March Point.

  11. Leaning stakes probably mark old shipping lanes at March Point, where oil refineries share space with herds of cattle and a Great blue heron rookery.

  12. The snow thickened over Fidalgo Bay, smudging the horizon.

  Three days later, more snow fell….is this getting repetitive? You bet it is! I prowled around the yard again….

  13. A Sword fern seems to shrivel and shiver in the cold. These hardy, evergreen ferns should be OK except for clumps damaged by the weight of wet snow. I believe those clumps will gradually recoup as new fronds emerge to replace the ones that broke under the snow.

  14. How long before these petite clumps of snow fall to the ground?

  After that  snowstorm, another bout of cabin fever hit me so I made my way to Deception Pass State Park at a snail’s pace. The parking lot hadn’t been plowed but since it’s on a busy inter-island thoroughfare (and maybe because there are restrooms there), vehicles had been driving into the lot, leaving deep tracks in the slushy snow. I steered my little car along the tracks, stopped, and got out. The staircase under the bridge had been trampled just enough – I could walk down the stairs while clutching the railing (and feeling thankful for waterproof boots). Under the bridge is a network of trails that traces the forested edges of Deception Pass. Only a dusting of snow had filtered down through the thick canopy of trees there. The path was easy to follow but it was dark and cold in the woods. Again, I didn’t last long but just being in the woods, gratefully breathing fresh air, was a treat. A tiny mouse raced past me, oblivious to my presence. He pawed at the snow, searching for food, and then ran off into the dark woods. I thought about my warm home….

  15. The forest is dark on a perimeter trail at Deception Pass State Park.

  16. Last year’s Ocean Spray flower (Holodiscus discolor) drips with melting ice and snow.

  17. The water racing through the pass that day was a cheerful turquoise color, and the view through the tall trees across to Pass Island was delightful.

  18. The leathery, evergreen leaves of Salal (Gaultheria shallon) cheer up the forest floor in winter. The orange leaves are dead Redcedar leaves from the drought we had last summer. All the snow we’re getting now will help prevent drought in the months ahead.

  19. The mouse. I enlarged and lightened the photo as much as I could, and it’s still hard to see him…that mouse was tiny!

  Steps away from the parking lot is the Deception Pass bridge, which has a pedestrian walkway. It’s usually a spectacular view from the bridge, high over the rushing water, but on that day the view was reduced by moisture still hanging in the air. Far out on the water I could barely make out some cormorants, gulls, a few seals, and one sea lion – all working hard for their living.

  20. Snow on the rocks below the bridge at Deception Pass.

  21. North Beach from the Deception Pass bridge. No one walks the beach on this snowy day.

  22. A phone photo taken on the road home that day.

  One day I ventured off the island to Mount Vernon, a small city with a good food cooperative where I like to shop. On the way I passed acres of fallow, snowy fields. The sun is bright out on Skagit Flats. The orderly rows of crops with their striped furrows converging on the horizon was pleasing to see.

  23. A bus for migrant workers sits in the field, waiting for Spring. It looks like this is one of Skagit Valley’s famous tulip fields – you can see them coming up. The snow won’t bother them a bit.

  24. Afternoon sun throws a maze of shadows on a farm building.

  The snow has melted a little now, but it’s still below freezing at night and not much above freezing during the day. Friday I took a walk at Bowman Bay, part of Deception Pass State Park.  I lingered on the trail until sunset. The tide was out and a lone Great blue heron was busy foraging in the quietly lapping waves. The sun felt good.

  25. A Great blue heron picks its way through the riches of low tide.

  ***

Unseasonable and Unreasonable Yes, it's word play, but seriously, the unseasonably cold weather here in the Pacific northwest seems thoroughly unreasonable, to me at least.