[Ron]

I know most of us have at least 1 or 2 stories about the ride to the blind, there's just something about an early AM ride that is ripe for a story. I don't know if it's because were still a little sleepy or hopped up to get to the hole.

One of the funnest rides I had and did just about every weekend morning was in Bayou Meto. For those that don't know much about this place it is basically a huge tract of land with levees weaving their way in the timber to create about 33,000 acres of prime hunting. In order to get to these spots there are 2 "Ditches" that run through it, these ditches are basically the Interstate of Bayou Meto. In certain spots if a person knows where to look they can find little trails that will lead them back deeper into the timber. One such spot we went to(and a lot of others, so it wasn't that secret) had a levee smack dap in our path. The only way to get over it was to unload the passengers and jump that sucker. The "take-off" area wasn't that big so you had to be lined up good and gas the hell out of it, all the while trying to time when to let off and reach back to pull the motor up before you tore shit up. It's just a funny sight to see about 4-5 boats lined up at 4am to jump a levee. The fun was ended the next year when they decided to repair the levees....they were all about 3 feet higher at the peak...it's probably worn down by now though.

[csgrizz]

I remember a few, last year with fresh snow on and me driving, I turned the truck, and nothing happened, next thing I know me and Musician are flying across a bean field in the snow, just to make sure we didn't get stuck, I gunned it, whipped it into a slide/half donut and headed back out towards the road. Musician never even flinched. Must be his confidence in my driving skills.

I seem to remember a birthday hunt with Mr. O, DP, Musician and myself that involved a tornado warning, lightning strikes in December, 40 mph wind, and 6 foot waves. Now that was fun.

Heck, how bout the time I was cruising up the Sangamon River with Echo, Echo's owner Echo and Maggie, when Maggie decided to do a seal dive off the front deck at planing speed! That one was extra scary! Echo cut the motor immediately and she popped up 20 yards behind the boat, luckily with no injuries.

Well theres a few,

let's hear em boys

later,

CS

[Ron]

Those are good CS..

I enjoy seeing the reaction from my passengers when they haven't been in a certain area with me and don't know what to expect. That happened this year with W104 and I, we hunted some flooded timber in my old stomping ground. After the hunt I decided to take us back up the creek channel to see what was flooded. As I was speeding up the channel on full plane we got to a section that looked like it just ended into thick buck brush and trees. The closer I got the more I could see W104 up front starting to position himself for impact....about the time he thought we were done for I cut it hard to the left and buzzed up a cut in the buck brush.

Later back at the boat ramp I remarked about his faithful trust in me during that section.....his remark, I got a little nervous but figured at that speed we both would be flying out of the boat. Gotta admire someone who doesn't mind crash'n if he knows the driver is gonna get thrown also.

[Duckpoor]

Well there wassss.. that morning in the Old Boat.. you would have to know the old boat to really appreciate it.

Our local hot tub has three main arms and about a million coves and fingers . some areas are deep.... Some aren't.
We have learned to avoid the shallows and instruct all the New guys... every morning .... about their locations and the markers. Some of us take it more serious than others.

Hot Tubs make for strange Steamy.. not foggy but steamy deals. I mean ya can look up and see the stars and not be able to navigate on the lake.. we travel on those days by what we call the Braile Method . Touch and feel, supplemented by the general familarity of the lake.

Now to the old Boat.. It had led a Bad.. Hard.. Abused, life before it came to live with us. It's transome worn out from excess horse power. The side rails flattened to the point of being sharp in places and the Bottom.. ohhh... the bottom. It had developed a concave or was it convex ... no longer flat that worked just like a suck bottom decoy and made getting on plane with a load an art. Now the same ailment that cause the dificultys, also made the boat very fast with a light load and particularly if ya were running into a breeze.

This Morning I was by my self.. Pre dog even and been at it just long enought to know Damn Near everything there was to know. ..
Thats why When Orrison went to 5.. (don't leave Blind 5.. ) I went to 12; so we could "Sorta Run down there together.. "
Course in them days Roberts Outlaw Boat was with out a doubt the fastest thing on our HP restricted lake and within the first few Min he had Navigated ..... his way, away...
I am running from one marker to another, Light on ..lights off.. 0 visability .. clear as bell .... clear.. and being tired of all the laboring that fat Pig of a Jon Boat was going slow .. It hopped right up on plane and I was off .
Now when I say off: Ya have to understand, to get it managable when it was full the Motor was Kicked All the way out and even a spacer added to the tilt to get the proto type.. suction cup bottom, broke loose and free enought to go. With no load she wallowed and labored till she broke the Bonds of the suction and that was some where about 15-20 MPH and...Then the Bow lifted .. extreeeeemly and the boat shall we say ran a little free.. but to manage the bow lift it was throttle on and as the speed increased one could again see over the front and progress at a fairly Normal throttle on run down the lake.

It was clear enough ..barley.. to allow for a on plain run .. Mabey not quite clear enough for the Kind of Full roll, Balls to the wall, Man this SOB is going now , progress I was making. Just about the time the bow settled and she took off I got just a tad uncomfortable.
Ya know how things converge to form something greater than the sum of the parts .. Well .. Forces from Steam , Speed , Geography, water levels and a slight Miss caluculation about Just where I was all converged .
As the Boat flattened out , I starts to admire how far Back the spray was comimg off of the bottom and thinking Man we are getting it now....
SHAT starts to happen ... and Time stands Still. The motor lugs just a bit and the Noise coming back from the shore changes, just as the water craft becomes a Land Craft .
Being able to relate it now has taken years of De-briefing and scene recreation because at the Moment I had no Idea ..no control and not an ounce of effect on the next 3-4 seconds.
I would guess the boat never saw 30 mph but it was darn close , for sure 25 and she was Flat out when she started slowing down a an alarming rate. The bank was just a clay beach and perhaps it was slooped gradule up a foot or two from the water line and while there was a much worse place to run aground at speed the ride was memorable.
From fullout to dead stop required exactly two and a fraction boat lengths. Lets just say all the stuff in the back was in the front and just to make the picture perfect.. it's a tiller stear set up and that startes out with the operator in the rear also... She had an open floor plan, justa back bench and a short front deck, 16 foot long overall . Due to the bottom configuration the weight placement was critical and most of the bulky Stuff occupied the rear of the boat. At the moment we "started slowing" down.. It quickly found the front of the boat and was not much of a cushion as The driver made the trip delayed justa split second by sheer mass and an automatic response to self preservation that came from within and made me let go and just relax ... Notice I said auto matic.. I had no rational thoughts or influence on the situation till I was trying to figure Just when the sand and grass got there.. It was reall quiet and some night sounds had rejoined the screen play . It seemed like the thing to do to just enjoy them for another min or two.. And I did.


This is long enough .. Some time I will tell about how I got her back in the water .. That' Entirely another story..


Thanks for the fun.

R Green

[csgrizz]

Lemme be the first to nominate this for the Hall of Fame.


Priceless DP, priceless.


You know I always wondered why you took such a keen interest and concern into my trips onto the lake, as I thought you were/are fearing I may make the mistakes of "other" newbies and crazies....you know there was that one guy that tried to take his new lower unit between the power pole and the bank, don't forget about the sand bar, swing wide on that point and there is a hole deep enough to hide a sunken battle ship there, that kind of stuff, but now its all coming together......I always thought your wisdom was based on the mistakes of others....kind of like that song

"DON'T ASK ME HOW I KNOW!"

Hehehehehehe.

later,

CS

[musician]

First: I had picked the first 2 of Grizz's stories to report on - as for not flinching - and don't ask how I know this - when the vehicle is leaving the road, it's too late to say anything that will matter. (If I remember right, after we got back on the road - I asked Grizz if he noticed the deer tracks in the field.)

Second: After participating in the Dec. tornado hunt - my second hunt with DP and Mr O - I was thoroughly x-ill-er-ated by the time we returned to the ramp. Thank goodness the temp was in the 50's. The nearby lightning strike got the old adrenaline going and I was wondering what the city boys were doing on a fine December day when us outdoorsy types were out having fun. Now I now what it would be like to jump my Harley into a lake in the middle of the winter.

Third: DP - your story is a classic - I have heard all the warnings about the lake and such but man when you speak I'm a gonna be listening!

Steve

[Echo]

Well this is a long one, but a very memorable one for me.

Back in my younger days when I was all wilded up about chasin' geese
and I was working swing shift.

I decided that it would be cool to leave after work at midnight, drive to
Rend Lake for a little mid week goose hunt. I talked two of my buddies into coming along for the ride. One of my buddies had the boat that we would need and the other buddy came along for the ride.

So I took my dog and all my gear to work with me so that we could leave right after work. We leave at midnight and make it to Mt. Vernon,
IL about 3:30 am. A little early to hit the lake, so we order some breakfast. After breakfast we make it to the boat ramp about 4:30 am.
There is a stiff 25 mph south wind, so I opt to go to the sailboat harbor,
because it is protected from the south wind and is the closest ramp to
where I want to hunt.

Now I should explain something about Rend Lake for the guys that don't
live know about it. Rend is a big shallow water lake. It is about 3 miles wide at the widest point and over 18 miles long. When the wind blows heavy from the south, it can be a very wicked lake. Big Big rollers that will eat the biggest john boat.

I was just sure that we could slip around the point from the sailboat
harbor and make it to our destination. Besides it was only a couple
of hundred yards.

We have the boat loaded and the harbor is pretty calm although we
can hear the wind howling and the waves hitting the rocks on the lake
side of the break wall. One buddy was driving the boat, the other buddy
was sitting in the middle of the boat and I was on the bow with my ole
brown dog. As we got closer to the mouth of the harbor, I could really
start to feel the wind, but it was still pitch black so I couldn't see much.

Just as the bow of the boat broke the protection of the break wall the
first wave hit the boat. It drenched my dog and dumped what seemed
like the 50 gallons of water in the boat. Before I could turn to tell my
buddy to head back the second wave hit. This one came straight down
on top of me like some one dumped a 55 gallon barrel of water on my
head.

I yelled as loud as I coud to my buddy to get us back in the harbor or
we were gonna die. Wisely, instead of trying to turn the boat around
he just put the boat in reverse and backed us into the safety of the
harbor.

When we got back to the ramp our decoys and gear were floating in about six inches of water in the bottom of the boat. We barely got the
boat back on the trailer. As we were standing on the ramp letting the
water out of the boat, my buddies asked where we were going next.

I suggested that we head to the subimpoundments, due the the fact that
they were totally protected from the wind. The only issue with the subs is that the ramps are just abandoned roads and they can be tricky at times.

So we hop in the truck and head to the subs. We are soaked, our gear is
soaked and my poor dog is giving me a look that says I want to go home.

We get to the subs by 5:30 am, still plenty of time to get to a spot and
set up before legal shooting time. I hop in the boat and my buddy is driving the truck down the ramp. Come on back, keep coming, bring it
back some more, keep going, keep going. Finally the boat comes off
the trailer and I run the boat to the bank.

I hop out of the boat and head to the truck. I can hear the truck revving
but it isn't moving. When I get close enough to see what the problem is
I can't believe my eyes. My buddies truck is backed in to the lake up to
the bottom of the front doors and he is stuck. At that moment it hits me,
MY DOG IS IN THE CRATE IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK!!!!!!!

So I run around to the back of the truck and there is my poor dog, head
pressed against the top of the crate up to his neck in the water. I get in
to the back of the truck and open his crate door and he practically climbs over me getting out of the truck.

Did I mention that all of our dry clothes were in the back of the truck
also.

Now how in the heck are we going to get this truck out of the lake. Fortunately for us, we catch break number two for the day. Another
hunter with a 4 X 4 shows up and pulls us out.

Now it is about 6:15 and we need to hustle to get out there and get set up to hunt. So we grab our gear and I locate my dog trying to sneak off
with the other hunters and we head to the boat.

As we approach the boat I notice that it seems to be setting pretty low in
the water. When we get to the boat it is nearly full to the brim.

Uh did anyone remember to put the plug back in the boat?

So by the time we got the boat bailed out and got to a spot to hunt
it was about 8:00 am. Why we didn't just quit right then and go back to
the motel I will never know. I think I was suffering from Clark Griswold
syndrome.

Needless to say, our luck didn't change while we were hunting and we
didn't even fire a shot.

If anyone has any doubt that there is a God, I am telling you there is,
because I wouldn't be here writing this if he had not been watching out
for us that morning on the lake. I am also sure that he has a sense of
humor based on how the rest of the morning went.

Whew ! I warned you that it was long !

Later,
Echo

[csgrizz]

Well, Well , ...WELLLLLLLL...

All this time you claim to be feeling sorry for poor ole grizz and his bad luck, when all along.....


It was YOU that infected me with this DAMNED BLACK CLOUD!


It is all making sense now.


later,

CS

[Duckpoor]

Echo... Great Story. some of your finner moments I am willing to bet.. It just don't geta lot better than the worst crisis that we survive.. All been there ..justa different time and place but Right there!!!!!

Almost as good as being in the blind.. lots more typing but wonderful none the Less!

Thanks very much !!

R Green

[musician]

Holy shat Echo!

Great story telling - I could almost feel that cold water.

I was just thinkin' about my first hunt with you up on the Sangamon River and trying to envision if I would have ever went waterfowling again if a similar chain of events unfolded on that morning.

Thanks for sharing - these stories make the off season a little more tolerable.

Steve

[outabullets]

Good stroy. I like that you never gave up on the hunt. Crazy? yes. Duck Hunter? You betcha. I am Glad to know I am not the only one. Many of nights of preperation trip to Wal-Mart Duck hunters store of imagination. I have entered that store more times looking for something that might substitute or jerry rig my problem just to get to hunt. I have spent many a nights first to the Boat ramp and last to leave.

[dukmn80]

Funniest ride to the blind would have been when several years ago. It was another foggy/steamy morning on the lake. We took off from the boat dock and couldn't even run on plain it was so bad out. After a hour of riding circles we ended up back at the boat ramp we started at. It seems like it was starting to get light out by time we could see enough to get to the blind. I can't remember if we shot a duck that day, but I can still remember that boat ride.

[Austinm]

As much as I would like to grace this forum with harrowing stories of braving tsunamis, ice storms, and so called “hold my beer and watch this” moments I am afraid I will never top these old heads here. So I will come with a different approach one of humor, competition, and ingenuity.

Now as some of you know, I like most of us who don't have private duck havens (DP). Us po boys without have to fight tooth and nail to get to our beloved "honey holes". This is generally at the farthest point from entry to a hunting area. In addition in our minds this spot is the only place the ducks will land that day. This "honey hole" in our minds is worth anything to get to including fistfights, footraces, and whatever our clever-desperate minds may conjure up.

For me this place was a walk-in spot and it truly was a honey hole about a mile trek from the gate through a fairly well kept road. Now as we also know you can try to beat each other there but eventually you know your opponent. For instance over beers the night before in contemplating the hunt we say " I know those sons of bitches in the red chevy truck with that dumb ass guy pissin on the ford will be there at 2:00 we gotta leave by 1:15 to beat him.

On the other side of town the guy in the red truck is sitting in his bar with his buddy saying well I know the good for nothing bastard in the black ford truck with the stupid guy pissin on the Chevy will be there by 1:30 so we better leave early. It is a vicious and cruel cycle that generally finds us all at the entrance at about dark the day before racing for the “honey hole”. So here is the dilemma it is not to get there early but how to beat the other guys to the spot when you arrive at the same time. This is where I capitalized.

I devised a plan for my buddy and I to take our mountain bikes and split our gear up. We will pack light outrunning the other 2 groups of hunters to the blind. I called the game warden that night to make sure it was legal. Laughing he said “yes, we really gotta make some more WDU’s for you boys”

Next morning there we were all at the same time as if it were a lineup for the Boston marathon rushing to put on our waders and shoulder our guns. Then we awed the masses as we dawned our bikes. We must have looked like Hannibal crossing through the Alps with his elephants. It was that look a man must give when he realizes he brought a knife to a gun fight. Needless to say we won the race and our shots that were sweet sweet music to us must have sounded like nails on the chalkboard to them. Our senseless rambling over countless beers had paid off we were the men of the hour. That day we were pioneers of duck hunting, like the invention of camo or decoys we had upped the anti, tipped the odds in our favor.

-Austin

This post has been edited by Austinm: 18 January 2007 - 08:24 PM

[Duckpoor]

OOOhhhhh Austin... its good to have ya back!

R Green

[csgrizz]

Well some have heard this story, but it is a must tell in the wake of Austin's story. Austin, this one's for you!

Similar situation...a walk in area, 1.5 miles from parking lot to the "spots" four groups are drawn at the club house then you all sprint to your truck drive down a one lane road sideways around the corners with water on both sides, slide to a stop in the parking lot, pile out and RUN the mile and a half (of as far as ya can), until you claim your hole.

Now the problem with this is , when I got into it, I was in my prime as a soccer player and tip top shape and so were the rest of the "youts" in our party. So most every day, we dominated, with 3 guys carrying all the gear and the "runner" jogging ahead to claim the hole. Hollywood was the one that got me in on all this crap and our prime "opponent" was a Russian guy who cussed us every morning we hunted back there.

Finally, he came up with your idea, and he is piling out with a bike! He had one fatal flaw that you didn't....

As the runner, (memory has slipped not sure who it was) is flying down the dirt road, he gets passed up and left behind by the russian on his bike...HOWEVER, the runner is shocked to see the little flashlight on the bike continue straight at the "turn" in the road.

By the time the guy on the bike realized he had taken a wrong road, he was crashing into a pile of brush at the end of the new bulldozed path...and I am sure he said SOB!!! in his native toungue...but we still got the best hole, and whacked em good once again.

To top things off, the last memory I have of the russian was me and holly up there drawing out first...after they changed the law where there was no more racing, you just get drawn and pick your spot. The russian gets drawn second and glares at us as he picks his spot. We smack em dead, all our ducks cept for one off duck I believe, and the only brown duck was a banded bird that hollywood made sure the russian knew about...

The following day the russian gets drawn first...and snatches up OUR spot from the day before and again gives us the death glare...so naturally we take the spot he was in yesterday when we hammered em.

YOU GUESSED IT, We smacked em again, he didn't kill but one duck.

Ahhhhh, I miss the ole Russian...(may he rest in peace)


later,

CS