Except for the squeak of course.Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Miles Davis Coleman; August 24, 1994 - March 27, 2009
Miles Davis Coleman was born in a pink single-wide trailer outside Frenchtown Montana on August 24, 1994. Nicky Battaglia, Polly Cote and I found lab pups in the Missoulian for $200 and being that carpal tunnel had ended my two summer seasonal career as a wilderness ranger with the Forest Service, I thought it was a great idea to purchase my first hunting dog. I still remember the phone call…Yep, a pink trailer on the side of the hill, just get off at the Frenchtown exit, you can’t miss it. Sir I’m looking for a hunting dog. Well my bitch hunts…no I understand what you’re looking for, I’ll see what I can do.
So we arrive at the pink trailer around 10 AM and I am cordially offered a beer, which I believe I accepted. So the “breeder” takes us back to the dog pen where he has a mallard drake dangling over the pen by a bungee cord and there is a little black pup with a piece of duct tape on his tail trying for all his might to try to chew on the mallard. So the breeder says, well after I talked to you and since you said you wanted a hunter, I hung the duck in there and that one with the duct tape on his tail was the first to go after it. That’s your pup right there.
So sure enough, I took the little guy home where he somehow survived college, epilepsy, forestry, seizures, pipelining, the dog pound, dog fights, running away multiple times, and a bunch of other moves until he finally ended up at our little house in H-town. The yard became his turf and he was there to bark and protect it. He also had his main squeeze, Selma.
He was not the best hunter in the world due to his squeak and his not so soft mouth when it came to pheasants, but Miles would retrieve ducks in any weather conditions. He’d fight through ice flows, and afterward shiver for hours in front of Mr. Heater, but never held back on trying to retrieve a bird. I had to lock him in the truck one time when it was 20 below and the river rocks were sticking to his feet, but he still wanted to hunt. He would hunt waterfowl, upland, or anything else that would flee from him, but beyond that he was a great companion and therefore a great dog.
Last night we took him for a walk and fed him a rib eye. Today I had to put him down and it was one of the saddest days of my life. He was just a dog, but he was also my best friend and had always been there for me for the last 14 1/2 years.
Wherever he is, I hope there’s a hunting blind and the birds are locking up and tipping their wings, and I also hope whoever he is hunting with shoots better than me. Rest in peace Miles, you’re already missed!
So we arrive at the pink trailer around 10 AM and I am cordially offered a beer, which I believe I accepted. So the “breeder” takes us back to the dog pen where he has a mallard drake dangling over the pen by a bungee cord and there is a little black pup with a piece of duct tape on his tail trying for all his might to try to chew on the mallard. So the breeder says, well after I talked to you and since you said you wanted a hunter, I hung the duck in there and that one with the duct tape on his tail was the first to go after it. That’s your pup right there.
So sure enough, I took the little guy home where he somehow survived college, epilepsy, forestry, seizures, pipelining, the dog pound, dog fights, running away multiple times, and a bunch of other moves until he finally ended up at our little house in H-town. The yard became his turf and he was there to bark and protect it. He also had his main squeeze, Selma.
He was not the best hunter in the world due to his squeak and his not so soft mouth when it came to pheasants, but Miles would retrieve ducks in any weather conditions. He’d fight through ice flows, and afterward shiver for hours in front of Mr. Heater, but never held back on trying to retrieve a bird. I had to lock him in the truck one time when it was 20 below and the river rocks were sticking to his feet, but he still wanted to hunt. He would hunt waterfowl, upland, or anything else that would flee from him, but beyond that he was a great companion and therefore a great dog.
Last night we took him for a walk and fed him a rib eye. Today I had to put him down and it was one of the saddest days of my life. He was just a dog, but he was also my best friend and had always been there for me for the last 14 1/2 years. Wherever he is, I hope there’s a hunting blind and the birds are locking up and tipping their wings, and I also hope whoever he is hunting with shoots better than me. Rest in peace Miles, you’re already missed!
Friday, March 20, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Philly's Toll Booth
Yep, Philly's dream has come true. There will soon be a toll booth [in a sense] for anyone wanting to go boating in Idaho, including Idahoans. Below is the Section of the proposed law that is applicable:
all vessels shall pay an additional fee each calendar year as follows:
(a) Motorized vessels:
(i) Ten dollars ($10.00) per vessel registered in the state of Idaho prior to launch into the public waters of the state;
(ii) Twenty dollars ($20.00) per vessel registered outside the state of Idaho prior to launch into the public waters of the state.
(b) Nonmotorized vessels: Five dollars ($5.00) per vessel prior to launch into the public waters of the state.
(c) Commercial outfitters with nonmotorized fleets exceeding five (5) vessels shall be
afforded a prorated group rate of thirty dollars ($30.00) for six (6) to ten (10) vessels; fiftyfive dollars ($55.00) for eleven (11) to twenty (20) vessels; and one hundred dollars ($100) for twentyone (21) or more vessels.
(2) Upon payment of the fee as provided in this section, the payor shall be issued a protection against invasive species sticker that shall be displayed on the vessel in a manner as prescribed by the rules of the department. Stickers shall be considered in full force and effect
30 through December 31 of the year of issue
The Bill passed out of the Idaho House with a 63-5 vote in favor, and it sounds like it will make it through the senate. Here is a link to an article about it: http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2009/mar/16/idaho-house-backs-20-boat-fee/
Monday, March 09, 2009
Thought we needed more ice fishing pics
I have been seeing all these ice fishing pictures this year and I was wondering why the Helena folk post nothing but stinking trout photos. You live in prime walleye country and your wasting your time with the trout. Here are some pictures from my trip to Fort Peck. We did catch one lake trout but it was on accident. I won our betting on who would catch the biggest walleye with a 9 pounder, the pike was 14. Thanks Walt, I finally get to post with all the other shit talkers on this blog. Hopefully I will catch more fish that rate your attention. I did catch a steelhead this year but I didn't have a camera, it did taste good.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Case of the Mondays
Today I had a case of the Mondays. It was one of those epic March Montana days where the thermometer read 55, but in the sun it was easily 70 by mid afternoon. The sunshine and the ice fishing report, where there were allegations of good Kokanee fishing, mixed together were the knockout blow that caused me to have to take the afternoon off. A 2009 fishing license, a six pack of Bud Light tall boys and an afternoon of ice fishing proved to be a quick cure for a case of the Mondays.
The fishing wasn't worth a damn (one tiny perch and three bites), and the ice is starting to get super sketchy around the edges...but it was a great way to end ice fishing season. Yep, I'm done with the ice and Ican't wait to get on flowing water.
The fishing wasn't worth a damn (one tiny perch and three bites), and the ice is starting to get super sketchy around the edges...but it was a great way to end ice fishing season. Yep, I'm done with the ice and Ican't wait to get on flowing water.
So I'm not going to lie to you all, I am super fired up for spring. I am ready for warmth, camping, big fires, hiking on a dry trails, and the sheer thrill and enjoyment of some fine whitewater in the company of friends.
Anyhow, this beautiful March day makes me lament about a few previous March experiences on water that occurred on similar beautiful spring days. On a few occasions, the endings were not as happy, but I feel I must spew these stories since someone may learn something from my ignorance as a youth of March boating...
The age old saying is that there are two kinds of people, those that have flipped boats and those that will flip boats. There are also usually river features that cause the flipping or general carnage, and sometimes those features are named after you if you are idiot enough to have carnage in a place where carnage does not typically occur. On the Lochsa alone, there is Artie's rock, Heff's wave, Tripper's eddy, but the Lochsa is a manly river where anything can happen. A little known fact is that there is a rock named after me on the Blackfoot. The reason why it is so little known is because it is only really exposed in the dead of winter at the lowest of flows, which takes us back about 13 years.
So it was the spring of 1996, and Philly was learning to kayak, and he was jonesing to float anything he could. It was a beautiful March day, and he convinces me to go float the Blackfoot with him. He convinces me that we'll just go up the road as far as it will allow us and we'll launch. I have basically no experience in a canoe and very limited experience being the captain of any kind of boat, but as a good roommate, I agree to go. To try to make the best of the situation, I invite a girl that I am trying to woo. We go up the road until we get stuck and put the canoe and kayak in...I am fully outfitted in my long underwear, since that is the best I have, and the gal had the same plus a fleece coat. Anyway, to make a long story shorter, there is a large rock in the middle of the river that I and the gal bump, and the lean away...causing us to swamp the canoe. All I remember after that is Philly laughing so hard that he could only save the gal and not me as I had to swim the canoe to shore. Twas a horrible experience and I lost a Teva, but I lived to tell the tale.
On a different March day, I went and visited Josh and Philly in Sandpoint aka Sagle Idaho. We spent the day skiing up at Schweitzer, and came down and Philly was half tuned, but all excited about kayaking. So we went to some po-dunk lake and Tortoise and I piled in a canoe with our ski gear still on...Having had multi après ski beverages, we did not have the appropriate balance when Josh paddled up in his kayak and proceeded to rock us until we overcompensated and swamped the canoe. Thankfully, Josh was nice enough to tow us to shore, but at least in our hypothermic state, we flipped him over. I only wish that we pulled his skirt before we flipped him
On a happier note about 4 years ago, Walt and I went over to the Lochsa the first weekend of March with Autumn and Liesel. And although the gals had to pluck ticks off themselves, it was 70+ degrees the whole day,3500 cfs, and very few on the river.
2 years ago, over St Patty's day, we had a similar experience of beautiful weather and great water. Keith showed up late and only had 2 hours of sleep under his belt, but proved to be an excellent copilot until he lost the cap to the Jack.
I love spring! CMON Spring!
Anyhow, this beautiful March day makes me lament about a few previous March experiences on water that occurred on similar beautiful spring days. On a few occasions, the endings were not as happy, but I feel I must spew these stories since someone may learn something from my ignorance as a youth of March boating...
The age old saying is that there are two kinds of people, those that have flipped boats and those that will flip boats. There are also usually river features that cause the flipping or general carnage, and sometimes those features are named after you if you are idiot enough to have carnage in a place where carnage does not typically occur. On the Lochsa alone, there is Artie's rock, Heff's wave, Tripper's eddy, but the Lochsa is a manly river where anything can happen. A little known fact is that there is a rock named after me on the Blackfoot. The reason why it is so little known is because it is only really exposed in the dead of winter at the lowest of flows, which takes us back about 13 years.
So it was the spring of 1996, and Philly was learning to kayak, and he was jonesing to float anything he could. It was a beautiful March day, and he convinces me to go float the Blackfoot with him. He convinces me that we'll just go up the road as far as it will allow us and we'll launch. I have basically no experience in a canoe and very limited experience being the captain of any kind of boat, but as a good roommate, I agree to go. To try to make the best of the situation, I invite a girl that I am trying to woo. We go up the road until we get stuck and put the canoe and kayak in...I am fully outfitted in my long underwear, since that is the best I have, and the gal had the same plus a fleece coat. Anyway, to make a long story shorter, there is a large rock in the middle of the river that I and the gal bump, and the lean away...causing us to swamp the canoe. All I remember after that is Philly laughing so hard that he could only save the gal and not me as I had to swim the canoe to shore. Twas a horrible experience and I lost a Teva, but I lived to tell the tale.
On a different March day, I went and visited Josh and Philly in Sandpoint aka Sagle Idaho. We spent the day skiing up at Schweitzer, and came down and Philly was half tuned, but all excited about kayaking. So we went to some po-dunk lake and Tortoise and I piled in a canoe with our ski gear still on...Having had multi après ski beverages, we did not have the appropriate balance when Josh paddled up in his kayak and proceeded to rock us until we overcompensated and swamped the canoe. Thankfully, Josh was nice enough to tow us to shore, but at least in our hypothermic state, we flipped him over. I only wish that we pulled his skirt before we flipped him
On a happier note about 4 years ago, Walt and I went over to the Lochsa the first weekend of March with Autumn and Liesel. And although the gals had to pluck ticks off themselves, it was 70+ degrees the whole day,3500 cfs, and very few on the river.
2 years ago, over St Patty's day, we had a similar experience of beautiful weather and great water. Keith showed up late and only had 2 hours of sleep under his belt, but proved to be an excellent copilot until he lost the cap to the Jack.
I love spring! CMON Spring!
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