WARNING: This has very little to do with chukar hunting. But it does have to do with people who read and comment on this blog.
I went back to my classroom today for the first time since surgery 10 days ago, and saw some of what my students have been up to. Actually, I’ve been able to read and comment on lots of their work from home; I use Google Classroom for most of my assignments in all of my classes, which is really dynamic and allows me to have real-time dialogues with students as they work on stuff, and it eliminates the pounds and pounds of papers I used to have to lug between home and school.
Anyway, one of the assignments for my dual-credit English 101 students (they get college/university credit for the required English 101: Introduction to Composition, as well as their junior or senior high school English credit) was to create a set of posters — as a class — showing some high-level writing “moves” that I could use for other classes as anchor or concept charts to help teach these ideas to all levels (I teach 9th through 12th grade). This is a challenging assignment because they have to read a complex text (which each poster cites) about rhetoric and writing theory and apply the ideas to these posters and use other examples to help illustrate their “move.”
Here are my instructions: “As a class (work in groups; sign your names on the poster(s) you worked on), I want you to create a set of FOUR POSTERS, each poster focusing on one of the writerly moves mentioned in #3. Each poster should have “forwarding” on it, along with — obviously — which “move” the poster is describing. Each poster should also have some example of the move from a text high schoolers might be familiar with. Finally, each poster should have somewhere on it a full MLA citation for Harris’s book, including the page numbers from which information on the poster comes. Poster paper and colored markers are in the cupboards. I recommend doing a “draft” of your poster on 8.5 x 11 paper before committing your ideas to the big poster paper.”
I had no idea what “texts” they’d use as examples, and didn’t give them any suggestions. Here’s one of the four posters:
Extending and forwarding concept poster (click to enlarge).
Another poster, by Orion and Jason, on the concept of “borrowing” (I didn’t take a photo of that one; sorry) used a video I made a while back as the example text to demonstrate what a “borrowing” move looks like; their poster explains that I “borrowed” “Only Connect” from my favorite high school English teacher, who “borrowed” it from E.M. Forster’s novel Howard’s End. Here’s that video, which the kids have seen once or twice in the past 6 years (and their poster has the correct MLA citation for the video!):
Memory is strange enough when you’re thinking about your own. I hope my students remember things I teach them, but sometimes I find they remember things I didn’t mean to teach them, but that I simply shared with them.
I am overwhelmed by the comments on Leslie’s last post. It feels a little strange being so forthright about this spine surgery thing because it’s really not that big a deal (he says, as he makes a big deal, as usual, about something that’s not); as I write I’m aware of several friends living with cancer, and one about to lose the battle. It’s hard not knowing what to say about that. So I just want to say thank you to everyone who sent good wishes. They were all appreciated, even the one subtly criticizing my beard (which was actually right on).
As Leslie said, I was pretty anxious about having surgery, but feel lucky to have had a great experience all the way around. The neurosurgeon, Dr. Hajjar, did a great job. He’s not known for his affability; I saw him for 30 seconds before he operated (most of which consisted of me asking if I could play my bagpipes soon, and his saying yes) and about a minute the next morning. But it was immediately clear to me when I was aware of my body that the pain was gone.
Pre-op nurse Amy. I think I finally found my color: expect to see me in a lot more lavender next season.
Dr. Hajjar is one of the surgeons who owns Treasure Valley Hospital in Boise. Having lived in Boise for 12 years, and having commuted past TVH on my bicycle for 9 years, and with a wife in health care, it’s weird to think I had no idea the hospital was even there. It’s only one floor, very small and tucked away in the back of a sort of semi-industrial park not far from the mall. What made it a good experience, in addition to the outcome, was the people working there. Angela and Carolyn in Registration; Kelsey the nurse aid who set me up in pre-op; the very, very affable nurse Amy who did all the computer charting and IV setup and had me do this “incentive” inhaling thing and seemed impressed with my lung capacity, and shared with us the fact that 20 years ago she’d flown through a windshield and has suffered for the last 17 years tiny shards of glass slowly and painfully erupting through the skin on her face and head; Jackie, the other nurse who IV’d my left arm which played vein hide-and-seek from the 20-gauge needle; Todd the anesthesiologist who looked like an ultramarathoner and was very calm and clear about what was about to happen; Georgette the pharmacist who charmingly cleared the path for post-op prescriptions; the OR nurse Christine who, even though she had her surgical scrub cap on reminded me of Tina Nicely, a really good friend from junior high even though she’d thrown the apple core at Kevin Hoagland which he thought I’d thrown and punched my lights out for it right there on the asphalt volleyball court (the only “fight” I’ve been in); the night shift RN LeeAnna who made me laugh at 3:50 a.m. with a story of her 3-year-old diving headfirst off of an 8-foot bookshelf onto their couch and bouncing across the living room; the night CNA Melanie who moved like a cat waking me several times without really waking me; the morning RN Matt who knew his job as well as anyone in any occupation I’ve ever met; the morning CNA Eliza who walked us to the car in the sleet and carried my stuff and greatly simplified Matt’s directions to the place we had to go to get a back brace. I mention this in case anyone in the area is looking for a good place to go for an operation. I think they even have several of those machines that go “ping!”
So, not your typical hunting account. Apologies if you were hoping for something more interesting. But I really feel compelled to say how moved I am by the graciousness of strangers, especially in a world that, if all you knew of it came from the news, would seem hopeless, cruel, and pointless.
Speaking of hopeless, cruel, and pointless: there is one thing I feel obliged to mention. Possibly the worst thing about this for me, even worse than the soreness from the surgery and the unknown recovery road ahead, is that I’m not allowed to sleep with my dogs, which also means my wife (no — she’s not a dog; she sleeps with them because they can’t not sleep with at least one of us. It’s in our bylaws). Leslie pointed out that it’s a bit ironic that the last post I wrote was about sleeping with dogs. I had no idea this was going to be a thing or I might not have had the surgery. It’s only temporary (about a week), but it does hurt. Peat told me he’s not very happy about it, especially the hurtful implication that he’s unclean; I felt it imprudent to mention the coprophagia. Anyway, I hope he’ll get over it, and I will try my best.
Finally, I’m extremely blessed that Leslie is here to take care of me. It puts a lot of things in perspective. I might learn something useful. And I hope the weather clears soon so she can take the dogs and herself hunting and get a well-deserved, hard-earned break from my sorry ass before the season ends.
Post-op meal: breakfast burrito, flourless chocolate cake, orange juice, and prune juice! A Norco-influenced pose at Bi-Mart on the way home, waiting for prescriptions to be filled.Back home with my peeps.
Haris Papadopoulos, Molly, and some evidence of a good day’s chukar hunting on Cyprus
Haris Papadopoulos contacted me through another blog of mine about two years ago with some questions about our dogs and the Brittany breed in general. He lives in Cyprus. We’ve been in touch since then, and just a few days ago he sent a report on his chukar hunting season with some photos of his young Brittany, Molly, himself, and the terrain where he hunts. He agreed to let me share his information on this blog, and even agreed to let me interview him via email. I am very grateful to him for the time he took to write responses to my questions, especially since English isn’t his first language. I can’t say enough about how wonderful it is to connect with strangers like Haris through a shared passion for bird dogs, pursuing challenging game, and the indescribable effects it all has on us. Here are my questions and Haris’s responses, which I’ve only lightly edited. Enjoy.
Please tell us about yourself: where you live, what you do for a living, where you grew up, and how you became interested in bird hunting.
I live in Cyprus, an island in the Mediterranean Sea. My hometown is Famagusta but most of my life I have lived in Limassol. I used to travel a lot because I was a professional athlete (sailor), and for 9 years I was living in Athens so I could do my preparation and have easier access to central Europe for regattas. I studied sports management but due to the fact that we own a family transportation business, I decided to help my father keep the company. Our clients travel from all over the world to visit Cyprus for summer. So, as you might understand during holiday season, I am really busy.
My family, grandpa, father, uncles, and cousins from the day I can remember, we were hunting together during chukar season. I even remember my first bird. Oh, that sound, when chukar leave the ground… All the magic is to see the chukar going up… Every time, after so many years, it feels the same!
So, as a kid I could spend time with my father only when we were hunting, and actually now, as a grown-up, I feel blessed that I took these first steps with him. He taught me not only how to hunt but also the ethics behind hunting. Even though I still go hunting with my family, when we leave the car and take the dogs out, everybody hunts alone. This way the odds are in favor of the birds.
Molly surveys the chukar terrain on Cyprus
Please talk about chukar hunting in Cyprus, what licensing and regulations are like there, if chukar hunting is popular, and what the terrain is like.
First of all, in Cyprus there is no such thing as a private guide to offer hunting experiences or trips. Licenses are under public control. Every year they publish a map and you can check the areas you can go for hunting. To be allowed to get a license you have to be at least 18 years old and pass a written exam. You are allowed to hunt only with over-under or side-by-side shotguns which means only two shots. The quota for chukar is 4 birds per hunting day. You are allowed to start hunting as soon as the sun goes up and stop as soon as the sun goes down… Approximately (during chukar season) this means between 6:15 am until 4:50 pm. Before and after these hours your gun has to be packed and inside the car.
Chukar season opens the first Sunday of November and ends last Sunday of December. We are only allowed on Wednesdays and Sundays, so approximately we get 17 hunting days with our dogs. I know it is not a lot but Cyprus is so small that if they allow more hunting days, the population of chukar, which is already decreasing, will completely disappear. But at least we can exercise our dogs from 15 July until end February, but I personally stop before chukar start to mate.
Chukar hunting is very popular in Cyprus. Our population is 1.2 million, and last year we issued 44 thousand licenses. But hunting chukars needs strong legs, big lungs and good working dogs. Usually you can see hunters around the first 4-5 hunting days when it is easier to locate the birds. After that, especially on Wednesdays, I don’t see a single hunter up the mountain.
The landscape is very similar to the one you are hunting. Rocky and low vegetation. Some Cypriot hunters prefer the woods, but I believe that is not chukar’s favorite. Through your videos I would say that the Hells Canyon landscape is very similar to the one I hunt.
Mixed bag!
Do you hunt other types of birds in addition to chukar (I noticed a woodcock in one of your photos)?
My heart beats only for chukar. BUT… There is a very big but here. Unfortunately, as I mentioned before, the chukar population on Cyprus is decreasing. Also, I believe the quota per hunting day of 4 birds is too high. So, even though I could spend all hunting season chasing chukars, I don’t. Some of my hunting days I spend on woodcocks. I do like woodcock hunting, different landscape, different conditions but if I had to choose, I could hunt chukars for the rest of my life.
Molly as a puppy
Please describe your relationship with bird dogs; did you grow up having bird dogs?
It’s not just a relationship. I can’t really find the words to say it. Dogs were always part of my family. At the beginning of this interview I mentioned that from the first day I remember, I was hunting. Same for bird dogs. My father always hunted with English pointers. He really loved them. I found some books, when the Internet was not even a thought, that showed he was ordering his dogs from British breeders. Our first pointer came to Cyprus 1978, before I was even born. So, as a kid we always had a dog around.
Molly in her second season
Please describe your interest in the Brittany breed.
Two years ago, after I came back from Greece, I really wanted to get my first bird dog. The one I will grow and train. At that time I really felt like a teenager. My father insisted I get an English pointer because they are the best, and bluh bluh bluh… You understand what I am saying. I really wanted to prove him wrong! One day at work, during my lunch break, I was watching some YouTube videos and noticed “Thanksgiving Partridge Hunt 2016.” As soon as I clicked on the video, the first thing I saw was Peat on point. After 21 seconds, I pushed the chair back and thought, Wow! All these years and I didn’t even know that Brits exist? I started watching one video after the other and I got really addicted. That was it, I contacted Bob to get some advice and I remember his words: “Get a Brit and just show it Love.”
Please describe how you trained Molly, what was challenging about training her, and how often you and she hunt together.
First thing, we learned the basics: sit and stay, ok, and give hand because I liked it. She was a bit nervous on wait, but I thought, she is still a pup, she will learn.
Molly is almost 2, so I had my first full season with her this year. Last year, when she was a pup, I was taking her with me for hunting or exercise to become familiar with the field, get the smells, and overcome any fears she might have.
Oh, god! The first year I thought I’d made a terrible mistake. She was so nervous, so anxious and I thought that I got a flushing dog instead of a pointing dog. I read so many books and thought I tried everything. I remember one day I planted a quail and I had her on leash. As soon as she got the smell she was trying so hard to flush it that she was crying… That day I said, Ok, I have to email Bob again for some advice. Indeed, he was right: she was just young and passionate. We finished the first season without a single point. We went back to the training field all January until mid-February… We were sleeping together, eating together, watching movies together, and sharing the same passion together. But we were missing that point.
I will never forget 12 February 2018. 6:53 am. First point on chukar! I got on my knees, took her in my arms and started crying. Before my eyes, my baby girl was growing up.
From that day everything changed. We started our training sessions mid-July for this season. Was very hot, but we didn’t stay out for long. Maximum 1 hour because with more than 30 degrees Celsius [86 Fahrenheit], she was not able to stay for more. A hunting day can last 8 hours if we don’t hit the quota early in the morning, so she has to be well prepared for this. One hour during summer could easily be 4 hours during winter.
This season, Molly still hunted with so much passion, but through experience she is learning how to turn passion into smart hunting. Point after point, she understood that in order to shoot a bird she needs to point. She needs to show me the way. Without her I cannot track, and without me she can’t get.
Please describe the best hunting day you have had with Molly, and what made it special.
You know sometimes it is not the numbers that can make the best memory. That day was different. Every time I cover approximately 12 to 14 kilometres [7.5 to 9 miles] and Molly three times that with a lunch break… Since we’d been getting so many points during training I was seeking something more…
Hot and light wind day. Half way you can find 5 pine trees on one side of the cliff (not very steep), where there is good shade to get some rest. We started walking around 6:30 am and we didn’t see a single chukar, and by then it was already 11:00. So, as I was resting, Molly went on the back side of the cliff to get some water from a stream coming down. After 2-3 minutes I heard the beeper on my Alpha, and I could see her on point. I said, No way! I jumped up, put on all my gear again and started to run. Indeed, not only Molly was on point but she blocked her first chukar! Pointing and blocking are different. In Cyprus, it is very rare for a chukar to be blocked so that the hunter will be able to get within a distance of 2-3 meters and then flush the birds himself. Her nose was so close, her eyes were so big. All her body was shaking. We were so happy to get that one and I was so proud of her. My Molly, my gun dog, my princess!
One of the purest pleasures I know is, upon getting into bed, having Peat collapse himself onto my left side, pressing his back against my ribs and torpedoing his head across my armpit, his nose inches from my face, and his relaxed amber eyes peering into mine as he sighs his little wheezy “tired old man” sigh.
Angus, the gentleman, consented to forego the bedtime “hole shot” to Peat once the younger dog proved trustworthy enough to join us on the bed, which was at about three months. Whether Angus was happy about this self-relegation I’ll never know; he doesn’t seem to have held it against me, and I miss having him in my armpit (I wrote about cradling Angus at bedtime in Gray’s Sporting Journal in 2015), a kind of sacrifice of intensity in our relationship that I worried would happen while we considered adding another dog to our household. True enough — it did. So the pleasure of Peat snuggling up against me isn’t quite so pure as it sometime seems.
Both our dogs spend most of the night with us in bed. They occupy different places, moving around, changing positions from fully stretched out (it’s amazing how long they can make themselves and how much king-size bed real estate they can commandeer) to curled like a furry donut, recalling the small circles of dirt I’ve seen while elk hunting which coyotes have carved out of snow for their beds in the woods. Often, they’ll each head to bed before we do, as if to let us know they’d prefer we join them, even though it’ll be 7:30 or 8; usually, this is a day they hunted or got a lot of exercise.
Bedtime, on a hunting day…
Angus prefers my side of the bed, at the end where my feet would be, with his head near the edge, and he’s always there while I’m getting ready for bed. Often I’ll sit next to him on the bed while I floss, and put my nose to his while I’m doing my cat-cow stretches on the floor before getting into bed. He expects me to move him toward the middle of the bed, which I do as carefully as I can — we both have arthritis in our lumbar area — and then I give him a neck, back, shoulder, and hip massage, which he seems to enjoy and I like to think has helped allow him to hunt hard without noticeable reduction in effectiveness well into his 12th year of life. I’ll finish by rubbing the inside of his ears, which always elicits a sigh of satisfaction, and giving him a kiss on his forehead.
Peat the retired sheet wrestler
Peat’s bedtime routine also begins before we get into bed, but is far more dramatic than Angus’s. Peat is the first “sheet wrestler” we’ve ever had. For the first couple years of his life, whenever he jumped on the bed — whether it was bedtime or not, and this could be several times a day — he’d violently pull the covers and pillows of the fully-made bed nearly clean off so only the fitted sheet remained intact. He still does this, but not quite as frequently. He also sheet-wrestles the couch, although we don’t keep sheets on it; instead, he removes the seat-back cushions and pillows, violently and haphazardly ejecting them from the sofa, clearing a space for himself about the size of the interior of a VW bug. We believe he’s trying to make a nest for himself, but his approach is like Genghis Khan on crack. Once finished, and it’s anyone’s guess what precisely might create the signal of completion in his brain, he collapses into a ball with a huge sigh, gives us a look that says, “Why must you make me do this every night?” and goes to sleep.
A Modest Proposal: Peat must barricade himself from all potential interlopersA half-baked effort for a fully-baked dog
One of the good things, and there are a few, of being an insomniac, is that I get to witness my dogs sleeping on our bed more than someone who is a sound sleeper (such as my wife). I love seeing them dream, sometimes with their tails quivering happily as though they’re slaloming through sage on a fresh partridge scent. Angus, much more than Peat, occasionally whimpers while dreaming, sometimes desperately, which worries me and makes me reach over and gently pet him to interrupt what might be a canine nightmare. But who knows? Still, I consider it one of the great gifts of bonding with a dog to be able to imagine what they might dream about. This will always matter to me.
Peat dreaming of alectoris plethoris
Leslie also loves sleeping with our dogs, but she doesn’t get to witness the experience as much as I do because she’s, well, asleep. But she knows it happens, and often falls asleep serving as another one of Peat’s particular sleep-foils. He’s got his particular positions with her as he does with me; with Leslie, Peat takes advantage of the fact that she sleeps on her side, which gives him more surface area to collect body heat (at least that’s my guess).
Peat in his usual place with Leslie, often after I’ve gotten up to go to school.
I realize not everyone sleeps with, or approves of sleeping with, their bird dogs. The reasons for not doing so might be moderately persuasive to an open-minded person: their restlessness can interrupt your sleep cycle; it makes them soft; you can get meningitis and giardiasis from them (I often wonder about this since both our dogs are both saprophagic and coprophagic); it’ll ruin their ability to tolerate temperature extremes; it will damage their olfactory receptors; and they’ll ruin your sex life. I’m sure there are other reasons, but I really didn’t do much research on the question because I’m not actually interested in changing my behavior because I am pretty close-minded about this. First, my sleep cycle can’t be any more interrupted than it already is, and it has nothing to do with dogs on the bed; I’ve had insomnia as long as I can remember, at least 25 years before ever getting my first dog. Second, if my dogs are “soft” from sharing my bed, I shudder to imagine what a hardened version of themselves would do to the local chukar population; I fear chukar would go extinct from “point-fright.” Next, given the frequency, for more than a decade, of wet, bacteria-laden, often feces-infused canine saliva from Angus’s (and now Peat’s) licks and kisses, and the fact that I’ve never gotten sick from them, I’m not too worried. Maybe I’ve developed an immunity or something, or it could just be luck and I’ll actually end up dying from a kiss, like Jesus did. I can think of worse ends. Fourth, it does seem my lazy dogs are overly sensitive to heat, especially in the early season. But I can honestly say that I’ve never considered their endurance to be a limiting factor on my hunts. If anything, it’s always and only the reverse. And as far as cold goes, I’ve seen them shiver a few times, but — again — they can endure much more than I can, and it’s not like I’d ever ask them to go hunting by themselves when it’s 20-below. Fifth, similar to the “softness” question, if my dogs’ noses functioned better than they already do, I’d feel so sorry for the birds that I’d probably have to stop hunting as it would no longer be “fair chase.” Finally, well, I’d better not talk about the last thing.
My ancestors, I’m pretty sure, slept with dogs, and some of them probably still are sleeping with them. I’m talking about those medieval knights (I realize I’m assuming I’m descended from at least one knight like this) whose graves are adorned with brass rubbings showing them in their armor, with the two most important things a knight could own: his sword, and his faithful dog. The dogs are always at the feet of the knight, which makes sense aesthetically and otherwise. The best sense it makes to me is that it’s a bridge from then ’til now: the two most important things I own, when it comes to chukar hunting at least, are my gun and my dog.
A brass rubbing I did in England in 1978, now hanging in my classroom.
The question always arises: were these loyal dogs buried with the knights? I’ve heard that they were but then that brings up the terrible question, what if the dog was still alive when the knight died? I couldn’t find any answers to this on the Internet, so I’m betting the dogs’ bones aren’t actually in the graves with the knights, but rather that they’re symbolic. Of what I’m not sure, but probably they symbolize what dogs would symbolize on anyone’s memorial today: loyalty, unconditional love, one could go on. Maybe even the poet Billy Collins’ ideas about what dogs think of their owners might pertain.
Curious what your dog might think of you? You might be surprised.
I doubt I’ll be buried with one of my dogs. I think I’ve asked to be cremated, and unless an awful coincidence occurs and my dog and I shuffle off this mortal coil at the same time I’d be horrified if someone even thought of dispatching my dog so he (or she) could go with me. But I wouldn’t mind if what was left behind of my brief stint on earth was some kind of evidence of my love for these creatures (which might seem over-the-top to those lucky bastards who’ve had dogs their whole lives; I didn’t get my first dog until I was 38), and — if I am lucky — their love for me.
A few years ago I posted something about what’s in my vest, partly to seek advice and partly to offer it. I got lots of great ideas from the comments on what to include and what to jettison. I haven’t learned much since (both good and bad, I guess), but thought I’d do a quick update; if nothing else, it gave me a chance to remember what I’ve stashed away in my vest. There were some surprises, but nothing dramatic.
The innards
I’m still using the Badlands Upland Vest, and this is what I carry in it on most hunts. It all fits without much trouble, and there’s actually some more room in some of the pockets. It’s just that there’s not much room for bulkier things like extra layers, or a shell, and not really a good way of attaching an extra jacket or a rain shell onto the pack without a modification of some kind, or a goofy strap attached somewhere… Anyway, from upper left:
Midland GXT1000 radio. Important note on this radio: I was about to look for a different radio because I got sick of these running out of batteries in the middle of every hunt, even when I didn’t have them turned on the whole time. It turns out they come with a battery pack that’s super low amp-hour rated (something like 1200 mAh), and I found a suggestion on a forum of dumping the battery pack and replacing it with rechargeable Li-Ion batteries, which I found on Amazon for cheap; they’re 2800 mAh, and I haven’t had to recharge them all season! And this radio works great at long distances, even without line-of-sight.
Dog treats.
Toilet paper in ziplock.
Cell phone: sometimes I bring this instead of a camera, but the zoom sucks, so I use it mainly for ONXMaps I’ve downloaded for the area I’m in to show property boundaries, especially when I haven’t hunted there before.
100 oz. Camelback bladder: I’m an unconvertable bladder guy, and this time of year rarely fill it since the dogs eat lots of snow and I’m just not that thirsty when it’s 20 degrees, windy, and I’m slogging through 6 inches of white stuff. In the early season, though, I routinely run out, and often determine the end of the hunt based on my water supply.
Garmin Alpha: this is my third season with the Alpha and TT15/TT15-Mini, and I’m sold (after criticizing people who used them; I’m open to eating crow, and developing a taste for it). I will say that the first TT15-Mini I bought for Peat lasted only two years, which is unconscionably short for the $300 collar. I tried replacing the battery, did a bunch of trouble-shooting and research, asked Garmin if they’d repair it (no response!), and ended up just buying another. The original TT15, honking big, is still working fine with no issues (knock on wood), but it’d really be too bulky on little Peat’s neck.
Leatherman Wingman: heavy, and heavy-duty. I could ditch this for a lighter pocketknife, but I’ve used a bunch of different things on it already and just feel safer knowing it’s there.
Stainless curved locking forceps: haven’t had to use these yet, and hope I don’t.
A couple of Clif Bars: sometimes I forget to re-stock these and for two reasons it’s never a problem. First, Leslie usually carries extra food and I’m a decent moocher. Second, as my friend Dale said in response to my earlier post about this: it’s a hunt, not a picnic, and you’re not going to starve on a 5-hour hike.
Butane lighter: I used to carry a magnesium fire stone with built-in flint, but last night I tried using it (never had before) and could not for the life of me start a fire with the thing, even in the comfort of my home and after watching the instructional video. Oh well. I was never a Boy Scout.
Ziplock with dryer lint, which is supposed to be a good fire starter. I didn’t try igniting this; maybe I should.
Ziplock with some bandages, wipes, and antibiotic ointment.
ChloraPrep Triple Swabstick: someone recommended this, and it’s expensive so I’m not sure where I got it, but it’s light, doesn’t take much space, and might come in handy.
Quikclot Advanced Clotting Sponge: someone recommended this, also expensive, but it seemed like a good idea to have just in case. With Murphy’s Law determining so much of the cosmic order of things, I feel better knowing it’s there.
Headlamp: I’d forgotten this was in my vest, but am glad it’s there.
Space Blanket: I just like saying “space blanket” and think having one in a chukar vest is appropriate beyond description.
Extra hat and gloves: depending on the season, these might or might not be in my pack, and possibly I’ll trade them out for warmer or cooler items, depending…
Shells: we’re now a two-Benelli family, and Leslie has commandeered my 12-gauge Ultra Light (but I’m about to reneg on that deal and return her 20-gauge Montefeltro) which impacts the weight and number of shells one might have in the vest. Right now there are 20 1-ounce/7.5 shot 20-gauge shells in my vest, but I can only fit 15 12-gauge shells in the same pocket. I’ve only needed more than 15 shells once this season (and ran out that day in the middle of lots of birds!), and have averaged just 4 shots per hunt for my 33 outings this season (but 6 of those hunts were skunks).
Extra glasses: I need cheaters for fine print, which I’d need to read to use any of the first-aid stuff. I don’t carry extra sunglasses, but they’re on my hat about half the time on each hunt, so I counted these as “carry” items.
Idaho Sportsman’s Combo license: this is a photo-copied and laminated copy of my hunting license on one side, and my driver license on the other. I’m honestly not sure if that’s legal, but don’t like carrying my heavy wallet in my vest and don’t like moving my driver license from one place to another because I’ll eventually lose it or have to tell the ISP that my DL is in my bird vest. Does anybody else do this?
Oregon non-resident license: I should have my head examined for buying this, but I had the best of intentions.
SPOT Gen3 emergency beacon: a very cool device that can be a life-saver, and your pal at home can track you on a computer (if you like that idea). Beware of the annual subscription cost (mine was $225 this year), and that you’ll need a Search-And-Rescue membership on top of that. I have an auto-renew SAR membership for Leslie and me that costs $35 a year through GEOS.
Spare batteries: these are AA, and I’d forgotten they were in my vest, but I guess I thought I’d use them for my radio if the batteries died. The headlamp uses AAA, so not much use there…
Duct tape: I have a 1/2″ roll I got for taping dog booties more securely onto Peat’s wee feet, but had forgotten about the several feet of regular width tape wrapped around a short pencil.
Finally, dog booties from Dogbooties.com, out of Anchorage, Alaska. These things are amazing, and cheap. They stay on, don’t slip on ice like the rubber ones do, are super durable, and come in all kinds of cool colors. Plus, they’re super easy to install and remove. Peat spent about 4 entire hunts in these things (just on his front paws), and got used to them very quickly, and was not impaired or hampered from them.
So that’s that. The only modification I’m thinking of making right now is to figure out how I can bring the honking Nikon D7000 with 18-300 lens along with my gun and vest so I can hunt and take good photos. So far I haven’t been able to figure out how to do that, and with my back issue it’s probably a good thing I haven’t tried. Greedy? Next year I’m thinking of giving the Wingworks vest a try… the Badlands is hard to beat, but the price for its streamlined-ness is that it’s tough to get birds in the pouch when the pockets have a bunch of stuff in them. So I’m thinking of next year already.
I’d love to hear from people about their ideas for vest essentials, or if you think I’m missing something crucial or should get rid of something…
