PLAYER "A".....PLAYER "B"

For those of you who keep a copy of the USGA's Decisions on the Rules of Golf on your bedside nightstand (I know many of you do. And who would not, for it is scintillating reading) you are familiar with the terms Player A and Player B. When rendering a decision on the Rules, the United States Golf Association (USGA) and The Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews (R&A) refer to players as A, B, C and D. Thusly protecting the names of the innocent as well as those who should not be allowed to breed.


This is the story of my guiding in the 2-Shot Goose Hunt competition this year. If you are following the blog (and if not...why not?) you already know Tom's son, Grant, won the 2-Shot from Tom's favorite pit, the pasture pit at Lingle. I was guiding the lake pit. Tom's second favorite pit. The lake pit is located in Wyoming on Tom's property southwest of Henry. I should have been suspicious when my hunters were not at the draw party on Friday night. The guides draw their hunters and then a (if you are an IRS agent please stop reading now) Calcutta auction is held on the teams. Proceeds go to the Wyoming Home for old Angus Bulls.

The Lake pit has had four shots fired many times. I was very hopeful. The firing order of my hunters (Player A and Player B) was determined by a coin flip on the first tee. Conducting the coin toss ceremony was Ingrid E. Newkirk, National President of PETA.  Player A won the toss and was to fire the first tee shot. There is a game plan to the hunt.  I call the shot because I want the geese to be no more than 15 yards from the pit feet down and it needs to be a big goose.  I should point out that a goose may not be shot while sitting on the water. However, the rules do not preclude having a toe nail in the water.  I want the geese so close so that even an artist from Minnesota could not miss. "Go Bears!" (reference to the movie Fargo)

Not long after legal shooting time we had the first small bunch of geese respond to my Tim Grounds Super Mag. It was obvious to me that the geese were smitten with my goose talk. They were coming to point blank range. Similar to hitting a 7 iron from 165 yards to six inches.  A gimme "birdie" for sure. (How do you like that play on words, Ingrid?)

A single goose rocketed out of the sky as if he had a rock tied to his feet. He was coming to toe dunking distance. The goose began his descent from 200 yards above the spread. I told Player A to get ready. I am thinking "please don't shoot my decoys!" This bird is reading the book. Somewhere around 80 yards in the bird's descent, Player A lost control of all bodily functions. One of the worst sounds a guide can hear is the sound of a lid sliding back before you call the shot. The next milliseconds play out in slow motion. The words get caught in my throat. I am about to scream at Player A "NNOOOO!"  Player A stands and fires a shot at aforementioned  goose at the 80 yard mark. Of course goose flies on. Ingrid rejoices from her perch in the cattails. Game Over. Flagrant violation of the rules. Team disqualified. If you miss a shot in the competition you are usually done. We would now have to bag two geese with one shot to get back in it. Player A, now referred to as "Jack-in-the-Box", clearly has a total disregard for the traditions of the game as well as for the USGA and the R&A.

I must confess that Player A did regain his composure enough to miss his second shot at TEN yards.  This goose was in the chair having a pedicure! A stifled chuckle came from the cattails.

As we sat in the pit lamenting our misfortune with player A, Player B wants me to look at his shotgun. Like I haven't seen a shotgun in guiding hunters for over 20 years! But this gun is special. It is a Winchester Model 12 that his father bought in 1939. Seems to me that firearms might have made a few improvements in the last seventy two years! However, being the "professional" (another veiled reference to golf) that I am, I feigned interest. As he hands me the heirloom I notice the safety is off. This constitutes an egregious violation of Rule #1..KEEP YOUR FRIGGING SAFETY ON IN THE PIT! I have had one gun go off in a pit and after the dust from the IED settles you look for fallen soldiers. Aside from needing personal wipes, no one was injured.

In no uncertain terms, I referred Player B to Rule #1. A few moments later we had geese working. I alerted Player B to put a peg in the ground. He was about to be on the tee. The group of four Canadas all bellied up within 10 yards of the pit. Ingrid covered her eyes. If they were any closer you could whack them with your lob wedge. Player B had learned from Player A's foible and remained seated until I said "Go"! B slid back the lid and stood to fire. The geese were so close and so tightly packed, I let the possibility of a double, or the rarest of the rare, a triple enter my mind. I know better than to have those fantasies. They are always followed by heart wrenching, debilitating pain. Player B never fired.  He couldn't get his safety off. Ingrid's whimper was soon replaced by a guffaw.

I will not go into all the sordid details. Player B rose to shoot EIGHT TIMES and never fired a shot. I suspect he and Ingrid are engaged in some sort of sordid love affair, which surely involves a greens keeper and a midget of yet to be determined gender. At the conclusion of the hunt you have to check in your geese, of which we had none. You also have to report how many shots were fired. I reported Player A had two whiffs and Player B had eight balks. I apologize for the baseball reference. I looked through my bedside copy of the Decisions Book and as I suspected balks are not covered. A golfer never balks.

I recommended to the tournament committee that Player A and Player B never be allowed to enter the competition again.

At the conclusion of Saturday night's Awards Banquet,  I was walking through the parking lot on the way to my truck when I witnessed three people walking hand in hand in hand. Was it the Three Musketeers? I knew in an instant I had been set-up. It was Player A, Ingrid and Player B. I was but a pawn in their diabolical scheme.

THE GOOD GUYS FINISH FIRST

Tom Harpstreith

The annual 2-Shot Goose Hunt has been held in Torrington the second weekend in December beginning in 1988. My late friend and mentor, Tom Harpstreith, was instrumental in the formation of the hunt. Tom was a driving force behind the continuation and growth of the hunt. The rules of the hunt are 2-Man teams get two shots per person. A perfect score would be four geese. If there is a tie, it goes to the four geese with the highest total weight.

The 2-Shot is a major supporter of many charities in Goshen County. Proceeds from the hunt fund scholarships for deserving local students as well as providing financial support for enhancing local waterfowl refuges and many other community initiatives.

Tom was obsessed with winning the 2-Shot either as a guide or as a participant. As a shooter in the event he never drew a quality pit. Tom has the premier pits in Goshen County. When he was the guide, his shooters were always less than stellar. Consequently no wins.

This year Tom's son, Grant, won the competition as a guide from Tom's favorite pit west of Lingle, WY. He and his two shooters were the only team to record four geese!

My dear friend you did it! There is a snicker in heaven today.

GEESE LOVE GREEN GRASS AND CORN

You don't have to be an avid ornithologist nor a devoted waterfowl enthusiast to know that Canada geese love green grass. Drive by almost any golf course and you will see geese. Out here our green grass is winter wheat. Following the bean harvest in September many farmers plant those fields with winter wheat. The primary purpose is to prevent excessive wind erosion of soil during the winter months. The benefit to the geese (and to us) is the green shoots of the wheat emerge just before the "snowbirds" from the north come to spend the winter in our tropical clime. They are on it like their city brethren take to Kentucky blue.

When it gets really cold here, and it does occasionally, they go for the corn. Corn is a higher octane fuel for them than green grass. Kinda like their own green energy ethanol initiative. Van Jones must be so proud.

Sometimes geese want corn so badly they pay no heed to their natural instincts. They figuratively and occasionally literally lose their heads. They don't listen to their gut instincts. For this goose, corn was responsible for a real pain in the stomach. Literally!

Dave Kalinski, Mayor of Silver Summit, Utah, and goose with corn fetish

                    

FROM PRACTICE SQUAD TO JUNIOR VARSITY

If you have been following this blog you know of the journey that my puppy Molly has been on. From being banished to Utah and then back again; to having issues during training; to getting her first "live fire" hunt a couple weeks ago.

She was doing fine on marked retrieves on the river but was having issues with blind retrieves. I knew what she needed was to have success on the blinds. This past Wednesday may have been her breakthrough.

I had two clients and we were targeting geese. Molly was named to the starting lineup. You are on your own girl. No back up today.

It was quite warm in the morning and the geese started coming off the roost shortly after shooting time. The first bunch was six Canadas. They dropped into the pocket at 20 yards. Shortly after I called the shot, four geese hit the ground. Molly was sitting outside the pit in the decoys. She remained rock steady just like we had done hundreds of times in training.

Ken - Molly - Nate

Three were dead and we had one walker. I assumed Molly had marked all of the geese, but I wanted to get her on the live one first.  I walked her to the side of the decoy spread. Heeled her up and gave her a line. She fired out like a 1500 fps shot shell. She was at slightly less than warp speed when she ran over the goose. She wheeled and picked up the goose and brought it to heel and delivered to hand. Maybe all that practice is finally paying off. She nailed the three other geese in similar fashion. Proud Papa indeed.

As I took her back to her assigned location in the decoys, she kept looking to the north of the spread. When I told her to sit she came around to heel and it was obvious she was locked in on something. Then I saw it. A fifth goose had fallen and she marked them all. I gave her the command and she retrieved the fifth goose. The last three geese for our limit were retrieved in the same manner.

Proud Papa and Labrador Retriever

Limit by 8:30 and a Labrador Retriever that may have grasped the play book.

FRIENDSHIP

"Happiness is time spent with a friend and looking forward to sharing time with them again."
Thomas Jefferson


I have been truly blessed throughout my life with close friends.  I receive phone calls or texts almost daily from a number of my high school friends. We are very involved in each other's families. We share the accomplishments and the travails of our lives and those of our children.


Many friendships have been formed through my hunting and fly fishing associations. From fellow fly fishing guides to cherished friendships with many of my clients, I appreciate them all.

This time of year is now twinged with sadness as well as great joy. The joy is the arrival of the waterfowl. The sadness is for the loss of my good friend Tom Harpstreith. From the middle of October to mid February, Tom and I spent almost every day together. It was never an issue that Tom was closer in age to my parents than to me. Our love of the outdoors and the anticipation of upcoming waterfowl seasons honed our friendship. Tom taught me everything I know about hunting Canada geese. One of his many "Tomisms" was "I have to hunt every day because every day is different."


Countless hours are spent preparing blinds and pits.  A thousand decoys have to be moved from storage to their respective locations. Furniture and heaters hauled to each spot and the salamanders, toads, snakes, frogs and spiders that have been inhabiting the pits all summer must be relocated or eradicated. Hours of cutting grass and tweaking the camo on the pits and blinds. Those hours turn into days of preparation. 

I could not do it without a group of my friends from Utah and Colorado.

                                                                  

Petey Peterson, Dexter, Eric Lobdell, Cass, Garrett Klein, May, Joe, NP Dave Kalinski (Off being Polish)


These friendships were born many years ago on the ski slopes of Park City. They were cemented by a love of waterfowling. Every November the crew makes the eight hour drive to Torrington to help with setup and then again in February to help take down the spreads and store them for the following season. When the guys heard that we had lost the river blind to the flood, they built a new one.  It is not easy to build a blind to Tom Harpstreith's standards, but they did it.

The highlight of the trip is having dinners with the Harpstreith family. Tom's wife, Lovie, has continued the tradition of hosting the Utah gang for dinner. Lovie is an amazing chef. She has attended numerous cooking schools in Europe. She learned her craft well! The downside is the dinners always occur the same week as Thanksgiving. If this continues, I may lose my position in the "Chippendale's Western Revue".

I don't think that the arrival of my friends from Utah and the arrival of the waterfowl is a coincidence.

Thank you Eric, Garrett, Dave and Petey.

Thank you Tom.  For everything. We miss you, my Friend.

FROM BAGDAHD, KABUL AND THE TRACTOR SUPPLY TO THE NORTH PLATTE

I had the great pleasure of guiding the Staggs brothers the past three days.  They drove from Memphis, TN, to hunt the North Platte. Leonard runs a Tractor Supply store and his brother, Logan, is a Marine recruiter.

Logan first contacted me in July of this year.  He indicated they were interested in an October duck hunt. I told him we normally don't have mallards until the middle of November.  Logan told me he had contacted several other guide services and no one mentioned we don't have ducks in October.  I didn't need to ask.  We communicated several more times by email during the fall and we settled on Nov 17, 18 and 19.  

When they arrived in Torrington,  I went to the Holiday Inn to meet them. I have never had hunters who were more excited to hunt than the Staggs brothers. Logan told me that he had done tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. All the time there he dreamed of hunting the river he had heard so much about. 

He and his brother, Leonard, had been on several guided waterfowl hunting trips before that were less than successful.  Needless to say they had high hopes but were understandably cautious. 

My Dad, Michael, joined us on the first morning. When we had finished setting the decoys, I took the 4-wheeler back to our parking area as the brothers were behind the blind organizing their gear.  Most of you know that Michael is quite good with his Carlson duck call.  It was about five minutes before shooting time when the first flock of mallards came up the river. Dad gave them a high ball and they broke down immediately. He continued to coax the flock of 100 mallards with distant greeting calls, lonesome hen and low end closing calls. The flock circled downwind and dropped over the trees and into the decoys. Most of them were inside twenty yards.  Ducks don't decoy like that in Fallujah.

The Platte River specialist, Dani, was the lab on duty for the morning.  I will put her up against any dog on the North Platte.  After thousands of retrieves on this river she knows where the ducks and geese are going to go before they do. We had a wing tipped drake heading downstream. As Dani got close to the bird, he began to run/fly/swim as fast as he could. Just like an LA auto chase, the chase always ends the same way. After a 300 yard run downstream, the drake made a fatal error of heading to the bank. Never ever ever leave your vehicle and run! Dani and the drake disappeared into a log pile. A few minutes later, Officer Danielle was coming across the sand bar with the duck in handcuffs.

The day continued pretty much the same way. A limit of mallards and one Canada goose. The second day was a carbon copy of the first. Limit and a goose. I did manage to trick a flock of 500 into the decoys.  200 landed in the decoys, There wasn't room for the remainder. We did not shoot. I don't need to educate that many at one time.  Pretty sure the brothers had ever witnessed that!

Saturday, the third day, dawned with a couple inches of snow on the ground. I love snow and mallards. When snow is on the ground mallards have the need to feed. The sky this morning looked like the Santa Monica Freeway at rush hour. Ducks were moving in every direction. The feeding chuckle sounded like an OWS chant minus the drum circle.  By 8:00, ten fat greenheads were doing the bicycle in the decoys. Another great day on the North Platte.

                            Leonard and Logan Staggs with North Platte Mallards


The Staggs brothers were on the road back to TN by 9:00. Safe travels and hope to see you again.

SLEEPLESS IN FAIRBURY

Last night I had the pleasure of talking to two of my very best  friends Kaylee and Cassidy.  They live in Fairbury, NE. They have the nicest mommy and daddy. I am blessed to have all of  them as friends.  I stay with them on their farm during the snow goose season.  Kaylee and Cassidy are also good friends with my son Brayden. When Brayden visits the farm they show him the chickens, goats and cattle. Several times they have had to put new born calves in the bathtub to get them warm. Their mommy is not happy when that happens.

I can't wait to see you girls in February.