Steve Horswell
Member
For your reading pleasure. I will, from time to time, post additional misadventures...SRH
Tales of the Old Crony---The Other Hunting Crony
The three of us were tucked back in a pocket of The Slough awaiting another Opening Day. That day, The Old Crony and I were accompanied by the intrepid hunter that my wife refers to as “Your Other Hunting Crony”. Although uneventful, our journey across The Slough had been slowed somewhat by darkness, lush vegetation and mosquitos. Nonetheless, we were ready early and were waiting for some light and some birds.
The light certainly came but the birds forgot to show. Most likely, the meager number that had been there were driven away by the pre-dawn armada of duck boats moving around The Slough. The occasional shots in the distance offered rumors of ducks but we didn’t have any need for our calls or shotguns. After enjoying the great late summer weather for several hours, we packed up, and returned to the launch area.
Although we were all disappointed by the lack of action, getting skunked deeply affected The Other Crony. “Hard core waterfowler” is an understatement in his regard. He gets more birds than most hunters by out-working and out-shooting them. Rare is the hunting day that he doesn’t hunt from first light to last light and all the hours between. And he can shoot---his success in the field mirrors his high trap and skeet scores. He generally has two guns in the blind---a 10 gauge side by side and a 12 gauge auto. A ballistics expert, he shoots custom handloads he develops for specific situations.
So his pontification while loading our gear should have come as no surprise, “If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the mountain.” Roughly translated, this meant that we should spend the afternoon going to the ducks. Sensing a float trip in the making, The Old Crony begged out as he had “storm windows to wash” and “gutters to clean” that afternoon.
Mid-day found The Other Crony and I floating The Creek in my canoe; he in the bow, I in the stern. We spent the afternoon slowly working our way downstream toward out take-out. As he had surmised, there were ducks to be found in out-of-the-way places. Some even found their way into the canoe! Of course, there are always a few hiccups on any float trip. Although I felt right at home walking the streambed when the water got too shallow to float, he didn’t share my enthusiasm for dragging the canoe. While many of the day’s details have faded over the years, I can still vividly recall him trying to do the limbo in a canoe in order to avoid a live electric fence. It certainly put a little extra spark in the trip.
To be continued…
© All rights reserved. Steven R Horswell 201
Tales of the Old Crony---The Other Hunting Crony
The three of us were tucked back in a pocket of The Slough awaiting another Opening Day. That day, The Old Crony and I were accompanied by the intrepid hunter that my wife refers to as “Your Other Hunting Crony”. Although uneventful, our journey across The Slough had been slowed somewhat by darkness, lush vegetation and mosquitos. Nonetheless, we were ready early and were waiting for some light and some birds.
The light certainly came but the birds forgot to show. Most likely, the meager number that had been there were driven away by the pre-dawn armada of duck boats moving around The Slough. The occasional shots in the distance offered rumors of ducks but we didn’t have any need for our calls or shotguns. After enjoying the great late summer weather for several hours, we packed up, and returned to the launch area.
Although we were all disappointed by the lack of action, getting skunked deeply affected The Other Crony. “Hard core waterfowler” is an understatement in his regard. He gets more birds than most hunters by out-working and out-shooting them. Rare is the hunting day that he doesn’t hunt from first light to last light and all the hours between. And he can shoot---his success in the field mirrors his high trap and skeet scores. He generally has two guns in the blind---a 10 gauge side by side and a 12 gauge auto. A ballistics expert, he shoots custom handloads he develops for specific situations.
So his pontification while loading our gear should have come as no surprise, “If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the mountain.” Roughly translated, this meant that we should spend the afternoon going to the ducks. Sensing a float trip in the making, The Old Crony begged out as he had “storm windows to wash” and “gutters to clean” that afternoon.
Mid-day found The Other Crony and I floating The Creek in my canoe; he in the bow, I in the stern. We spent the afternoon slowly working our way downstream toward out take-out. As he had surmised, there were ducks to be found in out-of-the-way places. Some even found their way into the canoe! Of course, there are always a few hiccups on any float trip. Although I felt right at home walking the streambed when the water got too shallow to float, he didn’t share my enthusiasm for dragging the canoe. While many of the day’s details have faded over the years, I can still vividly recall him trying to do the limbo in a canoe in order to avoid a live electric fence. It certainly put a little extra spark in the trip.
To be continued…
© All rights reserved. Steven R Horswell 201