I’m sitting here with my ice water magic machine soothing my knee and some medicine from the snake bite kit on the rocks after a beautiful day of hooter hunting. I headed to Happy Valley for the first time today. I was heading up the hill by 530 am. I sold my 2 .22 over 20 gauges and a .22 pistol and bought at take down 10 22 Ruger. Ranger Doug helped me sight it in on Wednesday morning. I was anxious to try it. There were birds up high on the left as I entered happy valley. As I zeroed in on them and kept climbing, I knew these would not be easy ones. Up and up. The bird was in a tree behind some cliffs, but there was an access to get there. Probably took an hour from starting up from Happy Valley to get there. I was trying to locate the bird when- there he is. On a low branch. I could see his air sac all puffed out. He was really in form. I took out the gun from my pack, put it together. I tried to catch my breath and calm my breathing. This .22 shooting is a lot different from the point and blast shotgunning. I took aim, fired, and the bird sort of fell from the branch to my left, glided and fell to the ground to my right. It was not dead, so I aimed for the middle of the back – and woosh – there it goes, over the edge of the cliff. This was not a spot I thought I could climb back down to where that bird just went. Crap. I thought maybe I’d try swinging below there when I came off on the other side of the cliffs. The next bird hooting was not far. I saw him right away. I got a rest. Lined it up from about 30 yards and fired. I saw the bird drop but did not hear it hit the ground. I quickly side hilled over there along the cliff. No bird under the tree. I started looking in the trees behind the tree the bird was in when I shot. There he is. Again, I took careful aim and shot for the middle of the body. The bird dropped in a glide right down into the gully where a little jump-over creek was running hard. The spruce trees ended at the top of the gully-edge of the creek, so he had to be down there. I climbed down to the creek and… no bird. He had to be here. Where could he go? I scanned the brush on the other side of the creek and the creek itself. Nothing. Then- there he is. He rolled down hill a ways and I went over and grabbed him and wrung his neck. That’s more like it. Still – why aren’t I just killing them when I shoot? I plucked the grouse, removed the innards, and crammed snow in the body cavity. Then put it in a plastic shopping bag, took the gun apart, and shouldered my pack. No more birds nearby. I can hear one way down the valley where I went last year. I don’t want to go there again. It was a steep-ass climb down from here. My only option was to try to make my way down this steep creek coming off the mountain. It took awhile, but I slowly made my way down. I tried to side hill when I got to some manageable side-hilling to the area where I thought the first bird went, but gave up after attempting to get below the cliff. I figured there had to be some across the valley so I headed down hill to the ski trails. About half way down – there he is. A bird across the valley. I got a bead on him and noted the spot on the other hill, and made my way over there. No need to hurry. It was a beautiful spring day and nothing planned for the day but a hooter hunt. I made my way down, looking down Stephens Passage and to Admiralty Island from the top of Douglas Island. Where I was now, the water was flowing to the back side of the island. I crossed the valley and up the opposite hill. Oooh. This one is not so high up at all. I got to the clump of trees where he was hooting, dropped my pack, and put the gun together. It didn’t take long to see the bird. Not too high up, and facing my way. This time I had a solid rest against a tree. I held right in the center of the chest on a rock solid rest and fired. The bird cartwheeled straight down about 10 yards from my position. I saw it was alive, with it’s wings outspread. I thought – this is the same as the first bird. I’ll just let it expire then get it instead of shooting it again. I waited about a minute, and the bird popped up, and started running. It went up and over a the root mound of the tree it was in when I shot it. And I never saw it again. I combed the area downhill to the creek in the bottom. Back up to the tree, and back down. Every kind of different path where I thought I’d surely see it. I never did. It really hurts losing 2 birds. I’m guessing both wounds were fatal and will be an easy meal for an ermine, marten, raven, or other predator. That is little consolation to the hunter, though. This is the part of hunting I hate the most. I love the new gun. It put together easy and took-down easy. But I’ve hunted little with a .22. My friend Doug said you have to aim at vitals just like you do with deer, and not just aim for the bird in general. I think I need to try for head shots as I’ve heard others do. Sort of a heart breaking day but real life-lessons learned, even at age 52.

Got out both Sat and Sun hooter hunting.  Took my friend Charlie out for his first hooter hunt on Sat.  First we drove up to Eagle Crest and on the way there, Charlie said his co worker had heard birds over at a spot on Admiralty so I turned right around and said let’s go there.  We went back to the house and got the boat, but in my haste, I forgot the punt.  The tide was only going to be flooding for about 2 hours after we got there, so we had about 4 hours of hunting before we needed to be back to the boat or it would be dry.  Got Charlie onto 2 birds but he missed both.  He won’t soon live that down.  Not very far shots shooting a mammoth semi-auto 12 gauge (Browning, maybe?) that was his great grandfather’s, I think. When we got back to the boat ramp, the same bird that was hooting when we left was still hooting.  I figured I ‘d go back and get him on Sunday. Sunday, I got that bird in a very steep place that of course was a lot further up the hill than it sounded from the beach.  Then the next bird was even further up, and that bird was way very in the tree.  I kept plinking at him with the open-sighted .22 but could not connect and ran out of bullets and too high to think the 20 gauge was going to do anything more than irritate him.  It was a long walk back but the pouring rain actually felt good. I had my friend Doug look at a Henry AR7 survival .22 in Anchorage that I planned on putting a scope on.  He said he thought it would be too small for me.  I think I’m just going to bite the bullet and get a Ruger 10/22 Takedown stainless and put a scope on it.  I’ll sell the two .22 over 20 gauges and a little Jennings .22 pistol to help pay for it. A lot of hiking for 1 bird in two days.  But, I had the doctor look at my knee on Thurs.  He said nothing but arthritis causing the swelling and gave me a shot to reduce the swelling and pain.  And funny, but both knees were not sore or achy after Sunday, not just the one that got the shot.  Gotta keep moving while I still can.

A guy advertises on Craigslist.  Just changed to a heat pump.  I have 200 gallons of heating oil for a good deal, and the tank, too.  So I think- if it’s $2.00/gal, that would be a decent deal.  Turns out the guy just wanted it gone as he’s selling the house.  $20 bucks he said.  So,  I get on the trapline for jerry jugs, and collect 20 with the ones I have.  Sara and I spend 2 hours filling 20 jerry jugs yesterday till dark.  Today I went and got the balance.  200 gallons of oil will last us at least a year with our little house and toyo heater. I got home and Sara and I went to Mudrooms, Juneau’s winter monthly story telling night.  One of the best nights of stories.  The governor – yes, the Alaska governor Bill Walker – told a cool story of growing up in Valdez.  Another friend who was in Sierra Leone in the Peace Corps while I was there, told a story of a mutual friend who we lost to cancer a couple years ago.   The governor commented that this was the first time he was on stage in blue jeans – I love Juneau, he said.  I thought as he strolled in with no entourage – how nice it is to live in a place where the governor doesn’t need security.   I think he’s alot like Jay Hammond in that he can just speak plainly and there’s not a political agenda with every sentence.   He’d never draw the crowds down south that Sarah Palin does.  Thank God.

Was going to get up about 4 am, head out at 5 am and be hiking up to a spot at Eaglecrest at 530, as the sun came up at 6 am.  I didn’t leave till 530, and on my  way up the trail – corked!  Another hunter had the same idea I did, only was on time, so the first one into happy valley.  I hiked up to the lead in to happy valley, then went up a side valley so he could hunt the area as the first guy there.  I didn’t hear any birds nearby- they were all booming in happy valley, of course.  I kept climbing and crossed a snow chute – then heard the nearest bird.  Back across the snow chute!  The bird was in a finger of spruce trees running up the mountain side, and in an outside lower branch of a small evergreen.  I was glad I was scanning the branches as was about to enter the trees from the snow chute or I might have flushed him.  I got that bird about 730 am.  I plucked and cleaned the bird, filled the body cavity with snow, and put it in a plastic shopping bag in the pack.  The next bird was back across the chute.  Maybe 2 chutes.  I forget.  Didn’t take all that long to see the bird.  I lined up and shot.  It didn’t go right down, but sort of glided to some scraggle trees below and nearby.   I looked and looked and only saw a few feathers that dropped right where the bird was sitting, but no trail of feathers.  I searched high and low and no bird on the ground.  I was about ready to move on when I saw what I swore was a grouse head on a spruce branch below me.  The head wasn’t moving, but it sure looked like a grouse head.  I looked like a bird sitting on a nest.  I shot at the head and sure enough – it was a grouse.   All I could see was the tail and the wings flapping heading downhill.  Downhill was all snow and then some alders.  I slip-slided down the snow chute and again, no feathers.  Nothing.  I worked my way down and down and no sign.  Bummer.  I was thinking about heading to the truck when I heard another hooter to my right, so I headed that way across the big alder patch and patchy snow.  As I neared the other grouse hooting- I couldn’t believe my eyes.  There was the grouse, shot through the neck, in a little snow depression.  It was an absolute miracle I was side hilling on exactly the right level where the grouse had died.  It was not in the direction I last saw it leave that branch.  I felt it to make sure it was warm and not some other lost grouse.  It was my grouse.  Now I was happy. The next bird I saw, I saw only what I thought was the tail.  I started hooting to get the bird to hoot and see the tail bob, and that bird hopped a couple branches around the tree and I could now see the head and neck.  He was looking at the hooting sound.  Never seen that before.   I had a clear shot.  Like the other bird, this one glided down to another set of trees.  I never found this bird or saw one feather fly.  I do not know what I’m going wrong.  Maybe the old ammo is not good for some reason.  I’m going to get some number 4s for the next hunt. After looking for that bird in a branch for about an hour, and plucking and cleaning bird number 2, I headed down because I didn’t hear anymore birds.  When I got down to the ski slope, I heard 2 birds up the hill. If I’d kept side hilling, I might have heard them.  I worked my way  below the trees to look up the hill to see if how high up the hill the birds were hooting.  It was way up – where I’d just come from or higher.  Too far.  I was done for the day. Saw a few fiddle heads poking up.  Heard other shots around the valley.  Saw some young dads with their young kids getting out to hooter hunt at the lower slope.  Vehicles parked at every pull out all the way down the hill.  Looks like lots of people out hooter hunting, and from the sounds of it, birds for everybody.  

Went to our cabin yesterday.  Pulled all the crab pots.  A few juvenile king crab but nothing to keep.  Got up first light this morning and planned to run about 12 miles north to a place I’ve deer hunted.  There was a boat anchored at the cabin last night I assumed was hooter hunting so thought they’d picked it over for the short term. When I got to the beach to pull in my boat, I could hear hooters over on Admiralty- enough to know it would not likely be better north of here so better just go right here.  Apparently, the boat last night didn’t get them all. I idled over to Admiralty, and as I got to my  anchoring site – I saw a deer on the beach.  As I got the anchor and line ready, I saw 3 or 4 other deer on another part of the beach. I would seee another deer in the woods and lots of sign all day. I anchored the boat, rowed in in the punt, and headed up the hill.   I got the first one not very far up the hill right away.  Didn’t take any time to find him in a short tree and in the open.  Easy shot.  When I put him in my pack, I could hear 2 or 3 other hooters so figured it would be a good day.   The next 2 birds I saw right away again.  Both I shot but could not find.  I hate that.  The birds were high up in the tree.  The first I shot at twice with for 2 and 3/4 low brass skeet load, which didn’t work, I guess.  Then I put in a high brass – 6 shot? – and the bird went down.  I saw a trail of feathers but never found the bird.  I spent a long time looking above and below the feathers, but didn’t find more feathers or the bird.  When there is still snow it’s a lot easier to track because you can see blood, too.  The second one  I shot and never even saw feathers.  Maybe it was too high.   Now, I only had one shell left for grouse, plus the double OO buck shot and slug I carried in the side by side.  I pulled out the VHF and listened to the weather.  I was thinking I’d just take Monday off work and come back.  The weather robot said rain the rest of the week.  And, 15 kt N winds coming up today.  So, I figured I better stay on the hill and try for one or two more with the ammo I had left. The birds were “thick”, for hooters, anyway.  It was not much more than a 10 to 30 minute hike from one bird to the next.   The next bird I saw way up. I could just see the tail bob when he hooted.   After not getting the other 2, I said this one was too high, so I moved on.  And that’s a rare thing.  Not very often are there this many birds in ear shot. The next 2 or 3 birds I could not see.  Trees weren’t really in tough spots.  Just that the birds were high and I could not find them. I finally staggered out about 230 pm.  I’d anchored off the skiff and paddled in the little punt. I was worried about trying to paddle out in the punt since I was about the max load for it and I could definitely  see me rolling it.  When I got to the beach, the skiff was just barely floating, even as far out as I’d anchored it, so it must be right around low tide.  The punt was high and dry by the little creek I’d left it tied off up near the woods with a line.  I dragged the punt down the tiny tidal creek until I got to where it met the saltwater.  I tried getting into the punt to paddle out the short distance to the skiff and thought – you are gonna roll this in the waves trying to get there.  The skiff was only out about 15 yards, and I already had wet feet, so I just waded out to the skiff, towing the punt by a line.   The surf was about up to my thighs when I got to the skiff.  I climbed over the transom, lowered the outboard into the water and started it, then walked out onto the bow and pulled the boat out to deeper water towards the anchor.  I pulled the anchor, and then quickly put the outboard in gear and idled out to deeper water, when I pulled the punt alongside, put my pack and gun aboard, then pulled the punt onboard.   I beat into 2 footers most of the way home, but just took my time. It must have been near 60 today.  People were out and about all along the Douglas beaches. Only 1 bird, but a great day.

Okay.  I usually don’t fess up on my hooter hunting spots because it’s alot of work and not much in the way of sharing if both people like grouse.  But today I’m making an exception.  Drive out N. Douglas, past the False Outer Point parking lot about 1/3 mile until you come to the pull out for the N. Douglas trail on the right.  Park there, and go across the highway and start up the hill.  You should hear a hooter as you put on your pack.  The first one is not far.  When you get to the first one, you’ll be able to tell that the bird is in a tall ass spruce tree growing in a little gully between two little hills.  Now, start the round de round.  Go around the base of the tree, and slowly work your way away from the tree to get further away and gain all manner of different looks at the tree.  Do this for about 2 hours and give up and try the next bird uphill another 1/3 mile or so.  Repeat what you did for bird number 1.   When you give up on bird number 2 and start downhill because your knees are so stiff and you forgot your ibuprofen,  you’ll hear bird number 3 about a 1/4 mile to your  right.  That is up to you to write about.  I just couldn’t do it.   Of course, my course down hill brought me by bird number one.  And now I had an even different perspective than the first 2 hours.  I was on the uphill and looking into the tree tops.  Surely I could see the bird now.  Nope.  Lots and lots of downhill on the way out.  Now I know what people older than me used to say – it hurts more going down hill.  Yikes.  I’m stiff.  Back to the house, grab the wallet, and head to the store by the bridge.  1 bag of ice and a little bottle of snake bite medicine.  Fill a glass with ice, put in half th snake bite medicine.  Then fill the magic cooler with ice and water.  Struggle to get my socks off, jump into a hot shower.  Get out, put the magic wrap from the ice water cooler on my knee, sip the medicine, and listen to Syracuse come back from 16 down to beat Virginia.   Swear I’ll never hooter hunt again, and start planning for the next hunt.  Anywhere but that spot out N. Douglas.   It’s all yours.