Bait Malfunction
I was recently at my Aunt and Uncle’s house for Easter. Among the many stories told was one that I had somewhat forgotten about. So I figured I may as well share it so you can laugh too.
My mother is an avid gardener, and to my knowledge has been for longer than I’ve been alive. One thing every gardener seems to be in agreement on is that earth worms are good to have in a garden. Earthworms also seem to prefer gardens to live in. My guess is that its because the soil is richer, softer and watered regularly. The down side to being an earthworm in a garden, is that fishermen (of all ages) know exactly where to find you. And they wont get in trouble for digging there, within reason.
My dad is an avid fisherman, and to my knowledge, has been for longer than I’ve been alive. One thing that most fishermen seem to be in agreement on, is that earth worms make good bait. They seem to work well and they are readily available. You can buy them. Or if you have a limited allowance and are saving up for more fishing lures, you can dig them up in your mothers garden. That is exactly what I used to do.
I remember one time in particular…
It was the day before we were to go out fishing. I grabbed an old wax paper cup. I remember it was white with a teal stripe on it… like they all seemed to have back then.
It was actually these cups that started my mother reminding me of this story. My aunt bought some for the Easter dinner and I commented how with wax paper cups, like they use in movie theaters and gas stations, will thin out and weaken when alcohol is put in them . If you have teenage kids, you can tell that there’s liquor in the cup because it will look like a napkin that has grease wiped on it. If you are a teenage kid, sorry buddy.
Anyway, back to the story.
I took this little disposable cup, and my plastic shovel, and I dug. I dug all through the garden and a little around the flower bed. Much to everyone’s surprise, I managed to avoid destroying too much of the garden, a very punishable offence in my home. By the time I was done that cup was about as full of worms as it could get. I put just a little bit of wet dirt in with the worms and set the cup in the cup holder of the boat so I would have it handy the next day.
The next day appeared and we went to the lake. We got the boat in the water, and everything all set. It was now time to start fishing. I am comfortable assuming that my entire family was happy to relieve me of some of my bait. I dont actually recall sharing but that’s just how I am with my sharing nature. Eventually for one reason or another (probably because I was catching too many fish from that spot and everyone was getting jealous), I decided to move to a different spot on the boat, and take my miniature bait bucket with me. I grabbed the cup out of the holder and just as it centered over my lap the soggy paper bottom gave out. There I was with a lap full of crawling worms and mud. Naturally I wasn’t too phased and mostly interested in finding something new to put them in. My mother yelped and almost abandoned ship. My dad was also none too happy about the muddy mess in his boat, and probably considered throwing me and my bait overboard. Being devoid of another replacement container, I vaguely recall most of my hard earned bait going over the side… What can I say? I guess some people just don’t take fishing as seriously as I do.
Posted in Fishingwith no comments yet.
Deer Steak Marinade
It’s been a while since I’ve posted, sorry about that. March tends to be a slow month for anyone who likes the outdoors, its just a long month of snow melting into mud that makes escaping a maintained road nearly impossible. So I decided for a change of pace I would post a bit of an instructive post much like my deer head cleaning post from a while ago (currently my most viewed post, thanks to Pinterest)
So this time, instead of a tomahawk or a deer head, I’ve got something almost everyone likes… food. I will share with you my super secret steak marinade recipe. It works with any red meat but I find it especially useful for deer meat, especially if you find its too gamey. So lets begin.
Wait, first I should mention something. This recipe is just a rough guide and open to adjustment and interpretation, all units of measure are somewhere along the lines of dashes, splashes, dollops, hints, and glugs.
First you need meat, you can buy it if you like, ideally go out and round it up yourself if you can
I tend to start with the meat frozen, and put it into a large container with a lid that seals.
It doesn’t look particularly appetizing just yet.
Next I like to add a bit of steak spice, any brand will work and we all have our favorites so just use that. If you don’t have a favorite or a “go to” that’s kinda strange but not a problem, just use the first one you find at the grocery store and see how you like it. Personally I like Montreal Steak spice, though I’m not sure they want to be associated with me so dont judge them based on my usage of their product. If you put too much, that’s OK because most of it will stay in the marinade when you pull the meat out to cook it, and if you think you put too little, you can add some while its grilling. Everyone has their own preference for strength of taste, I tend to put a lot of spice.
Don’t worry about putting a bit too much or too little.
Next I add a bit of BBQ sauce. I usually go with a generic BBQ flavor, but I have, in the past, had good luck with honey garlic and hickory flavor. Just about any BBQ sauce should work.
I tend to use about 1/4 to 1/3 of a cup for two steaks use what ever you think is reasonable
Next is the key ingredient, I find this is what really gets rid of a lot of that gameyness that people often don’t like in wild meat. Worcestershire sauce is the key, so add a bit to the mix. Much like with the steak spice, Lea & Perrins doesn’t know about me or my blog (probably)… So again don’t hold it against them if you happen to not like me.
I find I only need about 2 or 3 tablespoons for two steaks, and even that may be a lot
Last ingredient is any kind of cola, I believe its the carbonation that helps tenderize it, so in theory you could also use beer. If you decide to try beer, let me know how it works out (for science!). I have also, in times of desperation, had good luck with root beer, but it tends to add a bit of a vanilla flavor that some people don’t care for.
You can either use enough to submerge the steaks, or be less wasteful and flip the steaks half way through the marinade process
Lastly, put a lit on it and put it in the refrigerator for at least a day. Once you decide its time to eat it, cook it on the barbecue however you see fit. If you are unsure of how to cook steaks properly, that makes two of us. What I tend to do is turn the barbecue on and set it to high heat, once its good and hot I brush and scrape the grill portion. I then throw the steaks on, close the lid and then drop the temperature to low. That way it sears the outside, preventing sticking to the grill and sealing in the moisture, at least that’s my theory on it. All that said, every BBQ is wildly different and there are millions of people, all with their own ideas of the best way to cook a steak. Do what works for you.
I like mine cooked anywhere around medium or medium rare
So, just a quick recap:
- Put the meat into a container
- Add steak spice
- Add barbecue sauce
- Add worcestershire sauce
- Add cola
- Refrigerate for at least a day
- Cook on a grill
- Eat it
- Come back and comment with your thoughts on the recipe
One last really useful thing I will share with you, since you’ve read this far. Barbecued perogies.
Perogies are an easy and tasty side dish for almost any meal
If you’ve never had perogies… you need to go buy some now and eat them! You can finish reading this later, perogies take priority. If you’ve never had barbecued perogies, like most people I’ve talked to, this might be life changing for you. Perogies are one of my favourite foods, and always have been. I remember when I was younger, and when I come to visit as an adult, my mom would make perogies her way. She would boil them, fry some bacon, caramelize some onions and boil up some peas. All served with sour cream. This results in an amazing meal but lot of work, 2 dirty pots, and two dirty pans. When I got older someone showed me that you could fry perogies when you had them as leftovers, and that was pretty good but they tended to be greasy that way. Fried is my least favorite method of cooking perogies, but I still wont say no to a plate of them.
Last summer, while I was working on an oil rig, a Directional Driller I was working with was cooking a steak on the barbecue. I saw him pull a bag of pergoies out of the freezer and walk outside. Naturally I had to ask, and he was kind enough to enlighten me. Cooking perogies on the barbecue takes about 5 to 10 minutes, you just lay them on the grill frozen, when they start to get nice grill marks on one side flip them over. Its best to take them off when they just start to split, or if you’re really good just before they split. By the time he was done explaining himself they were ready. He offered me one and I took it… my life hasn’t been the same since. The next day I drove into town and bought a bag of perogies and I dont think I’ve gone a week without barbecued perogies since then. They are a quick side dish with minimal clean up afterward, you can eat them like finger food, and its easy to cook a lot of them if you have guests. They are good dipped in sour cream, barbecue sauce, salad dressing or my personal favorite, sweet chili sauce.
I would also recommend a starter salad or a vegetable side dish
If you have any questions don’t be shy! I would love to hear your deer steak recipe, if you care to share, put it in the comments.
Posted in How-To, Recipewith 3 comments.
Cape Reinga Road Trip: Part 2 (Dunes, Trees, and Fuel Lights)
This, as I am sure you have guessed, is part two of a two part series. I recommend you go back and begin at the beginning and read part one. If thats just not your style, allow me to bring you up to speed. Erin and I had just rented a camper van from an agency in Auckland, New Zealand and driven it to Cape Reinga. We had just seen The Cape and started heading back to Auckland to see the sights along the way and eventually return the van. Now, let us resume.
We now began our scenic drive home. On the way to Cape Reinga we had seen signs for the sand dunes, after some quick research in the guide book, we decided we had better stop and see them on the way back. We pulled into a little parking lot at the edge of where the lush green trees met the golden brown sands. From a distance it reminded me of home, it looked like at the edge of a field where the green spruce stopped on a razors edge and was replaced with golden wheat. I grabbed my water bottle filled with the previously boiled water. It was now still kinda hot, like bad tea, ideally it would have been cold.
We jumped out of the van and wandered into the dunes. A few hundred yards from the parking lot, across the dunes, there was a small patch of trees. Erin and I walked toward it, the whole time joking about it probably being a mirage. We made it to the oasis then wandered up the side of a tall dune and surveyed the area, the dunes went a lot farther than I would have expected, we were also very close to the ocean, so we decided to head that way. We climbed down the dune to a rather well traveled trail to the ocean. My water bottle kept falling out of the cargo pocket on my shorts so I decided to just leave it beside a unique rock and grab it on my way back. In hindsight that was a bad idea.
We walked toward the ocean on the sandy trail which eventually turned into a flowing stream about five inches deep and twelve feet wide. I like a nice wide shallow stream, its just so pleasant to walk in. Suddenly coming upstream towards us was a bus. A greyhound style bus, right through the stream, spraying water out each side. It was cool to see, and a little surprising. I was obviously a little confused. It stopped a few hundred feet in front of us and a bunch of people got off holding body boards, then it all made sense. It was a tour company doing sand boarding, it looked like a lot of fun. Erin and I watched for a bit and then continued our trek to the sea. We eventually made it, and went for a swim. Actually Erin swam, I’m kind of afraid of the ocean so I just waded in about waist deep.
Climbing The Dunes Is hard Work
Getting Down From The Dunes Is Quite Easy
We started heading back, the heat and salt water were starting to get to me and I was really wishing I hadn’t set down my water bottle. I eventually made it back to my water, which I had left in the sun for a few hours. I drank the nearly boiling water while we headed back to our van. Since then I have instituted a personal policy of never leaving equipment behind on a trail, either I bring it all the way or not at all.
After our sand dune excitement we headed to our campsite. It was basically a few grass parking spaces surrounded by trees, just off the main road. We had some dinner and went to bed.
The next day we had two things on the agenda, see the Kauri trees and return the van to the rental office in Auckland. We first went to Kauri Kingdom to learn about the trees and their history. The Kauri tree grows large enough that they were able to carve a spiral staircase inside of one, just to give you and idea. From there we went to a nearby Kauri forest, to see some live ones.
Giant Trees Have Always Fascinated Me
Last thing on the docket was to get the van back to the rental agency before 5pm. We pulled into Auckland at about 4:45 and I realized that I had no idea where the rental agency was. We were very low on gas, my intention was to return the van with as little fuel as possible since we pre-purchased the last tank of gas. It was also rush hour. My heart was racing, and my knuckles were white. We didn’t have any form of GPS so Erin was searching through the map trying to figure out where we were and where the agency was. Then the low fuel light came on, I was stressed and about to have a stroke. It was now 4:58 and I had admitted defeat and came to terms with us renting the van for another expensive day and needing to put fuel in it. It was now a search fro the nearest fuel station and a way to get out of the traffic. Suddenly Erin spotted a grocery store that she remembered was across the street from the rental agency. I made a quick right, and sure enough, there was the agency. I zipped into garage as an employee was starting to close the big overhead shop door. I pulled into the stall and yanked the parking brake as the clock on the dash rolled to 5:00. We were safe, although it was kind of a jerk move to come in that late when the employees are supposed to be done at 5. I apologized for cutting it so close and explained the situation to the rental agent. He thought it was kinda funny, though I’m sure by now he was tired of the usual “I’m not from here and I dont know my way around” excuse. We unloaded our gear, and out of the corner of my eye I spotted a lighter tucked away in a little cubby hole beside the stove… that was upsetting. Oh well, it was time for the next adventure.
Posted in Travelwith no comments yet.
Cape Reinga Road Trip: Part 1 (Too big for this rig)
Lately I’ve been day dreaming about a good road trip. There’s something enticing about jumping in a car with a friend or two and letting the scenery roll by at the pace you want it to. My last road trip was with Erin to her cousin’s wedding in the Okanagan. It was a great trip, and I wrote about it, but I do believe one of my most memorable road trips was to Cape Reinga in New Zealand.
I landed in Auckland, New Zealand at about 10 am local time and Erin met me at the air port. We then went to the hostel and checked my luggage into their little storage closet. I was exhausted but we couldn’t check into our room until about 3 pm. Currently, I hadn’t slept for about 24 hours, which was also somehow 3 days ago thanks to the time zones that I still cant do the math on. Despite being exhausted, we decided to burn up the hours before my afternoon nap by going for a scenic walk around the city and checking out the museum, I highly recommend both of these things. Afterward I finally got to go to bed, and it was everything I hoped it would be. The next morning I woke up early, because sleeping patterns dont travel with you I find.
Once Erin and I had some breakfast we decided that the first thing we should do on our trip is go to Cape Reinga, the northern most tip of New Zealand. We weighed the pros and cons of taking a bus vs renting a vehicle and staying in hostels vs renting a camper van. It was a quick and easy decision. I really wanted to try driving on the left side of the road, because I’m a man child, also Erin and I both enjoy camping. Camper van it is! We called the rental agency and asked if we met the age and licence requirements to rent a camper van. They said we had to be 18… Check! The driver also had to have a standard drivers licence… kinda check, maybe.. Erin and I at the time both had what is known as a GDL (graduated drivers licence) which meant that we had completed the road test, the only difference between it and the full licence is that with a GDL there’s half the demerits allowed, you can’t teach someone to drive, and there’s zero alcohol tolerance. I wasn’t sure if it was acceptable, which meant I wasn’t sure they would let us rent a camper van. This left me in a weird way, I didn’t want to ask and point it out but I also didn’t want to break the rules. I thought about it a bit and realized that I was comfortable bending the rules a bit if it was for the sake of adventure.
The following morning we walked into the rental facility, picked out the sweet van we were going to rent and filled out the paperwork. The entire time I was sweaty and nervous, it probably looked mighty suspicious. Eventually they gave us the keys and sent us on our way. We had gotten the van for just a few days, and pre-purchased the last tank of gas. Basically we didn’t have to refill it before we returned it, it ended up saving us money if we returned it with less than half a tank of gas… supposedly. I carefully climbed into the ultra compact van, first I sat sideways on the seat then spun around and carefully wedged my left leg under the steering wheel and against the dash, then rammed my right knee into the corner of the door and the dash. Over the next few days I would learn to do this at a much faster rate. This van clearly wasn’t built for a man of my height and throughout the entire trip I had this fear of getting in a slight fender bender and breaking both my legs. Luckily that never happened. After my contortionist routine, we pulled out of the garage went a block east and then headed north on the freeway.
Its A Little Less Roomy Than It Looks
Let me just make a side note here and talk about driving on the opposite side of the road you are used to. Most vehicles in New Zealand have a manual transmission, which is fine, I actually prefer a manual. The part that fouled me up was that I was shifting with my left hand, it just felt unnatural. They also have the wiper switch and the signal switch on opposite sides that I’m used to, every time I pulled up to an intersection I turned the windshield wipers on. You’d think that eventually it would stop startling me, but you’d be wrong. Driving on the opposite side isn’t too bad because all of the traffic is doing it so it feels a little less weird. The real problem I had was in parking lots when passing oncoming traffic my instinct is to pass on the right hand side, naturally I got some funny looks until they saw the side of the van displaying the fact that I was a tourist. Also coming out of lots onto the road, I tended to hug the right side of the entrance/exit which again led to strange looks. Lucky for me New Zealanders tend to be a friendly people with a sense of humor.
Shortly after escaping the city we crossed a bridge with a beautiful river underneath it. I decided I wanted to get a few pictures so I pulled the van over onto the shoulder and climbed out. Erin and I each grabbed some nice photos and jumped back into the van. I went to take off and the tires just spun on the wet grass I had parked on. Immediately I started to worry and wonder how the hell I was going to explain to the rental company that I got their van stuck. Luckily, as I am a pretty typical Canadian, I know a thing or two about driving on slick surfaces. I put the van into reverse and was able to get enough traction to back up a few inches. I then was able to get a bit of forward momentum to get me a few more inches forward. I eventually rocked the van back and forth and eventually off of the slippery grass. My blood pressure dropped dramatically once all the wheels were back on pavement. Erin of course thought it was all kinda funny, she doesn’t seem to worry quite as easily as I do.
Late that day we made it to Cape Reinga. We had done the drive from Auckland to the cape in one day. Normally its only a five and half hour drive, but I might have gotten lost a few times. Luckily I’m the one telling the story so I can leave stuff like that out.
I parked the van in what was maybe a camping spot, either way it was relatively level and under a nice tree so it worked for me. We then ran down to the beach just in time to see the sunset.
A Lovely New Zealand Sunset
Once it was dark out we headed back to the camper and had some ham sandwiches. We then went and got some water. There was a lovely sign hanging saying something along the lines of “boil water before consuming”. We headed back to the camper and pulled out the little stove and pot that came with it to prepare our drinking water. For the life of me I could not find anything to light that stove with. We tore the van apart looking for matches or a lighter. Erin and I were debating what the risks were of drinking the water as is vs not having any water when two guys walked passed our camper. I walked up and started a conversation, in my usual friendly way. Turns out they were also Canadian and more important to the story, they had a lighter they were willing to lend us. We boiled a bunch of water and put it in my, then new, stainless steel water bottle and left it to cool.
The next morning we actually got to see Cape Reinga. The main attraction was a beautiful lighthouse that overlooked where the Tasman sea and the Pacific ocean mixed. It was very scenic, but also very windy.
View From The Lighthouse
The Ocean and The Sea Mixing
We then hopped back into the little van for the trip home. It ended up being far more noteworthy than the ride there, which was mainly used to determine where we wanted to stop on the way back. But this story’s getting a little long, I’ll tell you the rest next week.
Posted in Travelwith no comments yet.
Remington Redemption
I’m sure many of you are tired of me droning on and on about my obsession with old shotguns and my love of grouse hunting. What can I say, they go hand in hand so well. This week I submit, for your reading pleasure, a brief and somewhat incomplete “history” of one of the first guns in my collection.
Towards the end of my first year of university I had become a little more settled and had just a little bit of spare cash lying around. So, as any young man with extra money would do, I went to a gun show. I just figured it was about time I owned a shotgun, no sense having a licence if I’m not going to use it right? I wandered up and down several isles looking at a wide range of beautiful hunting rifles far out of my price range, and pistols that were pretty well useless to me. Then out of the corner of my eye, there it was, an old semi auto shotgun. Time had slowly turned the dark finish of the metal to a light grey and the wood on it looked like the finish had come off some time before I was born. The price was almost exactly how much money I had lying around, $200. Behind the folding table stood a tall and thin old man. The bartering began, after much back and forth the price had been renegotiated to $175, if memory serves. I filled out a lot of paperwork, at that time there was still the long gun registration. He handed me the gun, without a case, I shook his hand and I was off. Out of money and shotgun in hand I headed for the door. On my way out a lady handed me a garbage bag to put the gun in for my walk across the parking lot “we cant have people carrying guns around outside” I disagreed with her, but I figured I may as well just play along. I got to my car and had to laugh, the gun was so long and my car so small that I had to angle it from the floor behind the passenger seat to lean against the drivers side back door.
The gun I had purchased was a semi-automatic 12 gauge shotgun. It was labelled a Remington 11-48 a quick Google search reveals that it was made somewhere between 1949 and 1968 and is most likely the base model.
Old shotguns are typically notoriously cheap, I’m going to ramble a little off topic and try to explain why, if you’re not overly interested just skip this paragraph. Here we go. Shotguns made before about 1900 were designed to use only ammunition loaded with black powder. Black powder burns at a lower pressure, meaning that if you use modern shotgun shells the gun could, in a sense, explode or more likely crack apart, its extremely dangerous. It is now very rare and expensive to find black powder shotgun shells, most people just make their own if they want them. This causes the price of these really old shotguns to be very cheap, I bought a beautiful one in great shape a few years ago for about $100 and a $50 shotgun is not unheard of. Shotguns built after 1900 (ish) to about 1985 (ish), such as the Remington I am telling you about, were built when all shotgun shells had lead shot put in them, its dense and flexible meaning that the choke (end of the barrel) can be shrunk down to keep the BBs closer together giving the gun more hitting power. However, in recent decades, lead shot has been banned from use for waterfowl hunting and has been replaced with steel shot. Steel doesn’t have the same flex or density as lead, this means that the old style barrels, with too tight of chokes, can split if you try and use steel shot in them. These older guns are now rendered useless for hunting ducks and geese. You can still, however, buy lead shot and use it for non-migratory birds such as grouse, snipe, and pheasant as well as most target shot for skeets and clays. It is this loss of usefulness for waterfowl that causes these guns to have very little value, which is where I come in because I can still use it for two of my favorite things, skeets and grouse.
It was that following fall that my dad bought a house north of the city and introduced me to grouse hunting. It had been the first time in over ten years that my dad had hunted, but that’s another story and it his to tell, I have a hard time imagining him taking another hiatus that long. It was pure coincidence that I had a great gun for it, my new (to me) Remington. My dad, brother, and I must have gotten nearly 50 grouse that season their population had been on a up-cycle that year and you could almost call it an infestation.
Back In My Less Photogenic Days
Two Handsome Fellas After A Good Day
Over the winter I attempted to shoot a lot of skeets with it, I hit a few but it wasn’t pretty. That spring I got a little bored and decided to refinish the wood on the old shotgun that had been so good to me for so long. I pulled it apart and began sanding. The stock had developed a bit of a crack, so I simply glued it shut. About the time I finished sanding it, a friend of mine offered to airbrush it for me for $50, if I recall correctly (a steal of deal compared to the usual price of his work). I guess he was bored too maybe. I gave him the sanded stock and told him it was a gun mostly for grouse hunting, I them remembered that he likes hot rods and loud engines, not guns and hunting. I showed him a few picture of grouse to make sure we were on the same page. I gave him my full permission to get creative. The results where phenomenal.
Notice The Details In The Back, Such As The Mountain And The Grass
The High Gloss Finish Makes Taking A Picture Difficult
He Even Shaded The Checkering On The Forestock
Needless to say I was very impressed with the final product and this gun still get a lot of attention and compliments when people see it. I reassembled the gun after it was painted and took it out for a day of shooting. I was disheartened to find that it now shot horribly. It shot way high and way to the left and there was nothing I could do about it since shotguns dont have adjustable sights. As best I could figure the paint must have built up on the areas where the stock met with the metal of the gun and changed some of the angles meaning I would have to try sanding some of the paint off. I retired it to the closet for a while with the intention of looking into it “when I get a chance” time passed and I got busy with other things and it slowly found its way into the back of a closet.
A few weeks ago my friend Nikki and I went out for a shooting day. While there I saw that old Remington out of the corner of my eye and decided that I better try shooting it again. Maybe I would cut the barrel down and put a new adjustable sight on it and use it for a bush gun. I took it outside and fired a shot at a clay and it turned to dust. I shot another clay and same thing… it was the damnedest thing, the gun was now shooting perfect. I must have had an off day, then blamed the gun and as punishment for my stupidity I went years without shooting it. Chopping the barrel off was no longer an option to me. Nikki and I shot that gun all day and it worked well the whole time, I will admit the action was a little unreliable but I blame that on it collecting dust in a closet for about 5 years.
Towards the end of the day I noticed that the paint was beginning to chip off around the crack that I had previously glued shut. I couldn’t let this continue, not after what had already happened. I took the gun home and put some paint over the cracking edges and Erin and I wrapped some leather around the crack, which luckily happened to be on the handle.
Anyone Can Buy A New Gun, I Take Pride In Keeping An Old One Alive
Personally I like the look of the leather wrapped handle. I am now very excited to have my old grouse gun back in action. With any luck it should get me some dinner this fall. Don’t worry, you’ll hear all about it.
Posted in Hunting, Marksmanshipwith no comments yet.
Shooting day
It had been far too long since I had a shooting day with friends. A shooting day is exactly what it sounds like, a day of shooting guns. Usually how it plays out is I pick a Saturday or Sunday and take a truck load of friends, guns and ammo out to my mom and step-dad’s farm and we shoot clays, metal gongs, paper targets and just about anything else we can think of.
This particular day was a Sunday, I invited a few people but the only person available was my friend Nikki. Everyone else was busy with the bridal show, or hockey games, or had already agreed to spend time with their girlfriend. So Nikki and I loaded up my truck with a lot of guns and ammo and headed for the farm.
We pulled in the driveway and were greeted by two excited dogs. After much petting we made it into the house and were offered a lot of food. I feel I should mention or maybe warn people that you cannot go near my mothers house without being given food. Naturally I had a snack before we began. We rounded up the clays and the thrower. As I was setting it all up Nikki informed me that she had never shot clays before.
To make life easier I started off by preemptively explaining to her that when you shoot clays you’re going to miss a lot, especially in the beginning. Most people tend to get very down on themselves because of that. I’ve had a lot of friends give up and say “I’m just wasting your ammo and skeets” for some reason people think that if they hit them I get my money back or something. As a result I have started to explain to people that a hit or a miss cost me about the same amount, which really isn’t much given the cost of shotgun shells and clays. I have also found that people tend to see better results when I get them to shoot clays that aren’t moving first, this allows them to see how the shotgun fires.
I started Nikki out by putting out a bunch of clays on the various snow banks and got her to shoot them with my .410, she quickly learnt that with that gun she had to aim a bit low. After busting a few clays that were sitting on the snow I started using the thrower. She almost immediately started dusting clays. From there she did the same thing with my two 12 gauges and quickly began to favor my old semi-auto Remington, I think she found my old side by side 12 gauge a little too front end heavy. We traded off shooting and loading the thrower, I had a hot streak that couldn’t be described as anything other than luck, I lost count but was well over ten in a row which is far beyond my previous personal best. Darrell eventually came and joined us for a bit with a short barreled defender shotgun. A short barrel like that tends to make clay shooting much harder as the shot tends to spread out more and lose hitting power, I tried using his gun for a few and it wasn’t pretty. Then after a while even my mom came out and joined us, she declined to try shooting any clays out of the air but she did shoot some clays in the snow banks with her .410, which she owns for the sole purpose of keeping snakes out of her life.
We then took a break for lunch, then came back and took a walk around the field picking up unbroken clays and standing them up for rifle targets. I then pulled out my two 30/30’s and was happy to find that my reloaded ammo worked well in both guns. I also broke out my old .22 and Nikki and I used it to throw a lot of lead against the old gong hanging at the edge of the field. I have shot a lot of guns in a wide range of sizes and I still believe that an old .22 with open sights is the most fun shooting there is.
Darrell came back out, this time with his mini-14 which is a semi automatic .223 and a gun that I am a little envious of. We all took turns using it to shatter old clays on the snow until we had used up all its ammo. We then went back to shooting clays out of the air with the shotguns, probably because it was new and exciting for Nikki and I was still enjoying my hot streak.
A lot of those unbroken clays were probably mine
A truck load of fun
Our only setback the whole day was towards the end when a shell had gotten stuck in my shotgun, it had swelled when it went off and as a result was stuck in the barrel. We were able to coax the empty shell out by tapping the action open with a wooden dowel and a hammer.
Once we ran out of daylight I loaded my cooler full of deer meat that Darrell was kind enough to butcher for me (the meat had come from my “Boot Leather Buck”). As Darrell and I were loading the cooler there was lots of “oh, you better take some of this good homemade bacon, here’s a pack for Nikki too… Oh and here’s pork chops, and some sausage” Then my mom handed us three grocery bags of food “this ones for Nikki, take this to your brother, and this one has some of those good pizza buns for Erin to take in her lunches” Like I said, you cannot go near my parents without getting food. All in all it was a good day, we did a lot of shooting, which was the goal, and we got a big pile of good food, which is always a bonus.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to clean all those guns we used, but that’s just another part of the fun.
Posted in Marksmanshipwith no comments yet.
Tyson Goes Climbing
Okay okay, so this weeks story isn’t really about going outside, but it’s still a physical activity so that probably counts for something.
Work has been very slow for me lately and as a result I have had a lot of time off. I decided that since I wasn’t working, I might as well do something productive with my time. There are a lot of things in my life I should probably improve. Instead of working on my writing, I decided to start doing more physical activities. I really want to get into shape, but I dont care for the gym, mostly because I have no idea what I’m doing when I go there. So I started swimming every morning and sometimes I would go for a second time in the evening. Then, some friends invited me to try rock climbing. I have a bad fear of heights so I figured maybe I could get some exercise and conquer a fear at the same time. It turns out that the climbing I was going to do is actually called “bouldering” you dont use a harness or safety ropes, but you also dont go much more than about eight feet off the ground, which is still plenty high for a guy like me.
Jason and I arrived at the indoor climbing… center?… wall? place? We arrived at the climbing place, it was indoors and man made. It was my first time there so I had to fill out a waiver and create a profile. I firmly believe that any activity that requires you to fill out a waiver first is automatically a little bit higher on the fun scale. Next I had to rent some climbing shoes. Climbing shoes are basically soft, tight fitting, and have no grip on the bottom. Luckily at the top of the back rack they had a few pairs of giant shoes to fit me. The person getting them for me of course had to make a joke about my big feet…
Finally we got in and met up with our other two friends. Initially I was quite intimidated and didn’t have much of a clue what was going on. At first I just stood back and watched in hopes of learning something. Lucky for me my friends were quick to explain how the numbers and labels worked. It turns out there are routes marked on the walls, they have a start and an end and you are only allowed to use certain holds in between. Finally after watching everyone in our group complete the same route, I decided to give it a try. I was successful, mostly because it was one of the easiest routes in the whole place, but it was still a good feeling. We spent the rest of our time there trying various other routes, some with more success than others. I was pleased to find that everyone there was friendly. For some strange reason I always imagine in my head that people good at something will have no patience for a person who’s new.
My moment of triumph for the day was completing a route that was a bit above my skill level (lets be honest though, it was still a pretty easy one in the grand scheme of things). It required the full use of my wing span and I ended up about eight feet off the ground, which is plenty high up for a guy who’s afraid of heights.
Almost done
Both hands on the last hold means I’ve completed it
By the end of the day my finger tips felt like they had been smashed in a car door, there’s a reason I know that feeling. My forearms felt like the skin around them was shrinking, I guess that’s just what happens when you exercise for a change. The next day I could really feel how much work my shoulders had done. Bodily pain and fear of heights aside, I had a lot of fun and have actually gone again since. I plan on making this a weekly activity, at least until work picks up.
Posted in Otherwith no comments yet.
Christmas Catch-up 2: Wannabe Ski Bums
This is the follow up to last week’s post. If you’d rather skip it, the short version is that Erin and I got engaged and went to some Christmas parties… Also I got very sick at some point. Now that you’re brought up to speed, let us begin.
The day after Nikki’s party I drove Erin, Jason, and Shannon to Lake Louise for a ski trip. We met up with two more friends of ours Amber and Ryan. We arrived late in the day and sat in the hot tub before getting some food at the last restaurant in town still open that time of night.
The next day we hit the slopes. It was cold, about -25C in the morning, but luckily we all have good gear. I’m especially glad I had my Icebreaker Merino wool base layers and socks, worth their weight in gold when its cold outside. After a few runs together we decided to split up, simply because we are all at different levels of skill. Jason, Ryan, and Erin disappeared onto the mountain. I hit the green runs because that’s all I can do, and it wasn’t uncommon for me to bump into Amber during the day. Shannon made herself comfortable in the Chalet and read a book. It was nice knowing there was always someone there to relax with if you got tired… or injured. The chalet there is quite beautiful. On my last run of the day my recently purchased helmet paid for itself. I was going down the easiest run on the hill, its labeled as such. I was carving on my board and I went over backwards, I slammed my tailbone onto the hard pack snow then my head whipped and the back of my helmet smucked the ground. I laid there with a sore rear, a sore neck, and a head that felt okay. All I could think was, why was I so stupid as to wait til now to buy a helmet. I should have bought one years ago. I slowly made my way down the mountain to the chalet and waited for everyone else to filter in. The hot tub felt good that night. For the next few days I had to sit down slowly and when lying flat on my back I couldn’t lift my head up without using my hands for help.
Photo courtesy of Erin
Photo courtesy of Erin
We intended to hit the slopes the next day as well, but we woke up and read -30C on the thermometer and decided to head home instead. Good thing as I was still rather sore from my spill the day before.
The next thing on the schedule was New Years. We started the evening at Erin’s parents discussing the wedding and various options… Friendly heads up, fellas: if you ever propose, the next year of your life will be all about weddings. After that we headed to a friend’s cabin to visit more friends, see some New Year’s fireworks, have a chat with some friends around the fire pit, and then head home for sleep. I had a long day ahead of me.
We stayed just long enough for me to get this awesome selfie with Jason
The next day was the drive to Fernie, it was me, Jason, and Ryer. We arrived late in the day and I was amazed at how nice of a town it was at night. The Fernie Alpine Resort, the little community on the mountain side, looked like a miniature village in a department store window… they should consider adding a train. We checked into our room and realized that three guys, will have to share a room with only two beds and no couch, it worked out that each guy got one night with the bed to himself.
It was small, but at least it was clean and ski-in ski-out
The next day, we hit the slopes. I was amazed to see how big the hill was. I was limited, by my skill, to about one sixth of the available runs, maybe even less, and that was still enough for me to have a great time for two days. The first day was mostly me plowing down the green runs, lucky for me all the staff were super encouraging. I got a few thumbs ups when I made it off the chair lift without finding my way onto my rear. Actually everyone there, staff or patron, seemed to have the same “we were all knew at some point” attitude. It really takes the pressure off. Towards the end of the day I was starting to be able to carve. I still had a bit of spook in me from my spill at Lake Louise though.
At least I look kinda cool in all my gear
I didn’t think to take a lot of pictures, I was too busy having fun
That evening we drove into the town and had dinner at a steak house. I got to try a swordfish steak, it was delicious. We then went to a pub but found that the DJ was somewhat lacking. So we moved on, somehow we found ourselves at a reggae bar. At first it didn’t make sense to me but then I remembered that there is a lot of snowboarders who love reggae, honestly, I kinda like it too. Ryer was laughing, to us, at the old white guys dancing and stated “if I’m ever that guy, kill me” he then had a few more drinks and joined them… I was wondering how serious he was earlier. Jason and I debated weather or not we should put him down. We opted not to, for now…
The next morning Jason and Ryer seemed to be having trouble getting out of bed or moving quickly. Funny how that happens sometimes. We eventually found our way up to the hill, I returned to my green runs, while Jason and Ryer made their way farther up the mountain. Towards the end of the day though, Jason decided to hit some of the easier runs with me. I was able to find a few pockets of deep powder and really go all out, since powder makes falling a much less painful affair. I must say I was really impressed with my progress, a few more days and I might have been willing to hit a blue run, maybe.
There were two notable crashes on the trip, both in quick succession. The first was when Jason tried to stop short when I was sitting down with my board on. He would have stopped in time but he hit a very small sapling barely sticking out of the snow, instead of falling on me he opted to jump over me. He landed on his side and the ground exploded in a cloud of snow, limbs and skis. He didn’t get hurt so it was hilarious. We regrouped, and I explained where the deep powder was a little further down the run, I also warned him of the ruts. He took off ahead of me and in the distance I saw his skis come about a foot off the ground. Maybe he wasn’t listening when I told him about the ruts. He landed like a champ, it was very impressive, I thought he was headed for a second crash. I came into the powder with some speed and carved like a wild man. I was very pleased with myself until I tipped over and punched my fist into the packed snow underneath. I buried my hand wrist deep but my board and body kept moving. It was pretty painful and I’m not sure how I got out of it without a broken wrist. I certainly let out some noises and words that I hope the kids in the nearby ski school didn’t hear. We finished our run and got to the bottom just in time to see the chairlift close. Oh well, we had a good time while it lasted right? We headed to the hotel to find Ryer having a nap, I guess for some strange reason he decided to pack it in early. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. We made fun of him a bit, and hit the hot tub.
That evening we went out for dinner at a place called “The Brick House” we had tried to get in both nights before. The first they were closed and the second they were far too busy. We were all hungry after a long day on the hill so we may be biased, but we all agreed that that was the best meal any one of us had eaten in a long time. I didn’t realize french fries could be that good, they’re french fries… how many recipes can there be? The service was also very good. We decided to hang around after dinner. Ryer and Jason enjoyed a few pints, we swapped some funny and embarrassing stories as well as recapped our days. Then we headed back to the hotel for some sleep. The next morning we were sad to see we weren’t snowed in and instead we had to go home. Ryer also made a point of informing me that I snore very loudly and that Erin is a saint for putting up with it. We loaded up and hit the road. I was happy to be in my own bed again, but I’m already dreaming about my next snowboarding trip. I would like to go back to Fernie, especially once I’m a better rider, it just looks like there’s a lot of mountain to see there. Maybe Erin and I can find some time to go before summer hits us.
After only two snowboarding trips I can really see why so many people choose to live the “ski bum” lifestyle. Working on the ski hill and snowboarding all day seem very enticing and I can’t say I would ever look down on someone who chose that lifestyle.
Posted in Snowboarding, Travelwith no comments yet.
Christmas Catch-up
As is a common problem with most people, I found myself quite busy over the Christmas holiday. I may as well just bring you up to speed, some of this is interesting, some is just relevant, and some just.. is. If you want the short version, just scroll to the end and read the italicized part. This post turned out really long, so I split it in two, this is obviously going to be part 1, part 2 of course will be out in about a week. Anyhow here we go.
My work was done and I left location as though my tail was on fire, about a week before Christmas. I was sad to not be at work or making money, but I was also glad that I could be home for all the various Christmas celebrations. On the docket for the holidays were: Erin’s immediate family Christmas, Erin’s mom’s family Christmas, Erin’s dad’s family Christmas, my step-dad’s family Christmas, my mom’s family Christmas, then a get together with our friends a few days after Christmas, a ski trip to Lake Louise just before New Years, a friends party on New Years, and then a ski trip for me and two friends at Fernie right after New Years. Its all kind of a blur so I’ll try and put it in the right order, but no promises.
The family Christmases were all fun and friendly. My step-dad’s family had their celebration on the same day as Erin’s dad’s family. I opted to leave Darrell’s party a little early to make it to Erin’s. It was great catching up with both families, I got to see both of my step brothers which is an unfortunately rare occasion, especially at the same time it seems. Erin’s family was quick to show me just how bad I am at poker, despite her very young cousin “helping” me by pushing in most of my chips on every hand. Her scheme of bet big, win big was working okay until Erin’s dad decided to clean house.
The following day was Erin’s immediate family Christmas dinner. It consisted of her parents, siblings, grandparents, and an aunt. We had a delicious turkey dinner and lovely conversation. Immediately after dinner I began to feel unwell and excused myself to the bathroom for the remainder of the evening. It turns out I had caught a stomach flu. I hid in the washroom on the brink of vomiting while Erin, her parents, and siblings opened their presents. Shortly after the somewhat rushed get together, on account of my condition, we went home. I spend the night in the bathroom, quite literally. I was so ill that by the time I made it back to bed I would have to return to the bathroom. So I grabbed some blankets and a pillow and slept on the cold linoleum floor. That night I was so sick and feverish that I became somewhat delirious. I had recently been reading a family history book my mother gave me that told all about her family and their forging of the prairie west. I had lost track of my place in time and for a portion of the night was worried that I would be too ill to take care of the homestead in the morning…. I live in a duplex in the city. I was also vomiting so aggressively that my dry heaving would make it difficult to breathe, seemingly, for long periods at a time. This coupled with my recent listening to a podcast about the first World War which described in detail what chlorine gas does to a person, which is surprisingly close to dry heaving to the point of suffocation. All this managed to give me weird nightmares about trench warfare, sleeping on a cold hard floor probably didn’t help much either. Three days later when I was able to make it down the stairs and out into the world I was joking with Erin that I had traveled through time, started a homestead, and died in The Great War. I was basically Doctor Who.
Christmas eve I was able to attend Erin’s mom’s family Christmas. I was a little shaky from my recent flu. but I survived the evening. It was another great evening and I was concerned that all the laughter would be hard on my still recovering body.
Erin’s family knows how to party
Christmas day came and the plan was to drive from Erin and I’s house to my mother’s, then to my mom’s brother’s for Christmas, then back to my mom’s where we would spend the night. Christmas morning we were informed that my mom had a flu very similar to what I had just recovered from. I hope her homestead did better than mine… Erin and I decided that we would just drive to my Uncles and back that day, two hours each way, instead of staying at my mom’s. No one wants company when they’re sick. Once the plan was made, Erin and I got out of bed to open our presents, she got me a spork and a camouflage Buff. I got her socks, a bottle of Bailey’s, and an engagement ring… Did you see that coming? She sure didn’t, she thought I was kidding.
I proposed with this cheaper ring, then her and I could pick out a ring we both really liked
This is the ring we decided on and are currently waiting for it to be re-sized
Erin was a little mad at me for going over budget on Christmas, but she forgave me pretty quickly. We decided to stop in at Erin’s parents before going to my uncle’s to show her parents the ring and tell her siblings. Her parents weren’t surprised, since I asked their permission previously. We called Erin’s grandparents and aunts etc, and everyone was very excited, there was a lot of joyous yelling on the speakerphone.
We made the long drive to my uncles and called a few close friends to give them the good news. We informed my family when we arrived and naturally everyone was excited. We had some dinner and played some cards, Erin won.
We hit the road before it got too late and made it back in time to visit Erin’s family at her uncles house. He was busy working Christmas eve and missed the big family get together, because Firemen have unfortunate schedules. I was happy to finally get to bed after that long day.
A few days later it was our friend Nikki’s Christmas party. We had asked people not to tell anyone about our engagement, we wanted our friends to hear it from us first. We arrived first with Jason and Shannon (our roommates and friends). Erin had her ring on, but Nikki didn’t say anything. Eventually Nikki handed Erin a napkin for her food and leaned in and whispered “I see that” We all laughed because at the moment Nikki was the only one in the room who hadn’t been told. She was excited for us and we told everyone else as they filtered into the party.
We exchanged funny Christmas stories, played some games, and had some drinks. A friend of ours had brought some homemade apple moonshine which tasted just like apple pie, and went down about as easy. I was driving everyone home that night and couldn’t have more than a taste, luckily I won a bottle of the stuff in the gift exchange. I am currently saving it for a special occasion, for example: the day I decide to drink a bottle of moonshine. At some point someone suggested we play twister, everyone was wearing either denim jeans or a dress. Lucky for us Nikki had a surplus of short shorts, which she handed out to all the guys and gals, and for some reason we all put them on and played twister. It should come as no surprise that I’m not good at twister… also short shorts are not a flattering look for me.
The next day we hit the road to Lake Louise. Which was the start of a whole other series of adventures that include a new years party at a cabin and a trip to Fernie. This post is already getting a little long so I’ll tell you all about the rest later.
So the short version of this story is that I got engaged and went to a lot of Christmas parties . I am now going to be very busy planning a wedding, any suggestions for venues?
Posted in Snowboarding, Travelwith 4 comments.
Bits, pieces and pugs
Hey everybody, I’ve been working a lot lately and unfortunately haven’t had much of a chance for a real adventure. That doesn’t necessarily mean I don’t have anything interesting to ramble about.
As many of you are aware, I shot a deer this year. It is my largest deer to date and I am very proud of it, to the point where I’m basically bragging. Anyway, I’ll try to refrain from that on this post… no promises. The meat for this deer is currently hanging in my step-dad’s shop waiting to be butchered in to tasty roasts, steaks, jerky and all other kinds of goodness. The head has been turned in for CWD testing, which is necessary for any deer taken in the area where I got mine. Before I turned the head in I cut the antlers, and skull plate connecting them, off. I’ve had a plan for them for a while now, but this week I finally got around to actually doing something. Here’s what I did.
First I skinned any fur, fat or meat off of the bone connecting the antlers together (skull plate). It was a little on the gross side but Rose, my dads pug, kept me company and was very interested in what I was doing. Next I took some plain table salt and rubbed it on the skull plate to absorb any moisture left on the bone or any flesh that I had missed. I then left the antlers in my dad’s shop for a few days where it could dry out. While it was drying I rounded up some supplies, I needed a plaque to mount it on, so I took some aged wood off of an old grainery. It came from the same area as the deer did, and I think that’s kinda neat. Next I needed something to cover up the skull plate. I went to a thrift shop and for $5.49 I had a nice plaid flannel shirt, it was perfect.
Most of the supplies for this project
I cut the reclaimed wood into a piece about 8×10 inches, I opted to use a small piece of wood like this to make the antlers stand out more when its on the wall. I have seen people use larger pieces of wood and it looks great, as far as I’m concerned there’s very few wrong ways to do this.
Next I cut a sleeve off of the thrift shop shirt and wrapped it around the skull plate. To make it stay in place I used hot glue, just under the base of the antlers.
Hot glue is amazingly versatile
I then cut the excess material off at the back and glued it down too. I then drilled pilot holes into both the plaque and the back of the skull. Make sure to cut the fabric with a knife before you drill, otherwise it will catch in the drill bit and ball up, its a mess. From there I put some screws in from the back, through the plaque and into the skull plate.
Lastly I needed a method to hang it. I used some short screws to attach picture hanging wire and I was done.
The back, when its all done
The front, when its all done
Now I’ve just gotta find a good place in my house to hang it.
I also think, for a laugh, I should share this.
I’m sure many of you have seen this photo before.
She’s Not Much Of A Retriever But Shes Got Spirit.
Its from an older story of mine titled “Blast from the Past”. I also posted this photo to my instagram account with the same caption. Someone felt the need to post the following comment (along with a few others but I especially like this one)
“Oh look a deranged killer that could of been helped but is now a terrible thing forcing the other to obey him or else he will be killed too the other one is a poor pug in terrible murderers hands”
I think English may not be their first language, so I wont harp on the syntax here. I think what they are trying to say is that they feel sad that Rose, the pug, is being forced to kill animals or risk being killed by me for not performing.
This might be my favorite”hate mail” (ish) comment I have ever gotten (and there are some tough contenders in this category). I find it absolutely hilarious. Some of you are likely laughing right now, and some of you might need an explanation. So allow me. Rose, has never killed, flushed, or retrieved anything… ever. Her being a hunting dog is true, in that she comes with us when we hunt, but really she just wears an awesome camo vest and tags along with us. Anyone who thinks shes in danger of being put down for not performing has never seen how much my dad spoils her. He openly admits to preferring her over his kids, that’s ok, we understand, because we kinda like her more than we like him.
It’s Important To Have A Fishing Buddy
Rose is also a rather accomplished fisherwoman. Her and I hope that doesn’t upset anyone.
This is just a bonus photo I had lying around
Posted in Huntingwith 3 comments.