Timber Doodling

Morning was gray and wet, but that's perfect for hunting woodcock. No trucks parked in our chosen spot so we had the area to ourselves.  Splashed our way off the road into the perfect habitat - 2"-4" saplings, blackberry tangles, grass and reeds, and most importantly, boggy sloppy ground.

We knew we were in to birds because of all of the sign -noodling marks in the mud and "splash" but decided not to include a photo of upland poop for once. 

Couple of old adages about hunting woodcock. .. if you're not moving trees and brush out of the way with your arms, wracking your gun barrel against a tree as you swing, or struggling to walk due to the mud, vines, and tangles, you're probably not hunting in the right spot.

Always hoping for the "magic bb" to actually reach the birds in thick stuff like this. 

 But the mojo was working and the birds were there.  Final tally was we moved 15, shot at 11, and bagged 3, a stellar day in any timberdoodler's career, much less on his first hunt ever. Guess Wade just picked the right wing man.

Please,  no photos. 

Atchafalaya

Our trip into Louisiana was like surfing,  sometimes riding just ahead of the rain and sometimes engulfed by it. Nice weather for a duck.  And hopefully great weather for a timber doodle hunter.  Our logic being the little doodlers had to hunker down all day Thursday and will be out and about this morning.
We stopped for licenses and intel at the LDFW office in Opelousas where we met Jason, an avid woodcock hunter. Birds have been plentiful but cyclical this season. Out came the maps with very specific highlighted areas plus obligatory dog and hunting stories.
Steady rain restricted anything but scouting, but we were able to eliminate tens of thousands of acres of swamp and find exactly where we want to start.

Information kiosks also provide shelter from steady rain.

Found a comfy motel by a diner in Livonia and shut down for the evening. 511 miles certainly isn't the longest first day of a hunting trip but rain plus Houston made it enough.

When I can look out the room door and see my wingman, the rig, and Penny's Diner for supper and breakfast, the mojo is working. 

First time enthusiasm for a morning hunt is tempered a bit with trepidation.  A little scared to find out how much agility Kali may have lost. Not concerned about her ability or drive, just with how much her little aging body can keep up.  Suspect I'll be lifting her in and out of the truck the rest of the trip as well as onto the motel beds, but I guess she's earned that after all the miles and adventure.

Call Me the Breeze, I keep rolling down the road...

Great night

The meal of Ptarmigan we had by the fire was summarized two ways. "Unlike anything we've ever eaten before" and based on the setting and moonrise, as "philosophical".

Seat of honor fireside. 

Perfectly seared Ptarmigan breast and NWT jambalay-eh!

Moonrise over the river defies description and quell conversation. 

Frosty morning required premium seating by the fire.

Queen of the camp.

A Poplar place to camp

We passed up a civilized campsite (where they were literally raking the leaves) for something a bit more rustic and scenic. Since Poplar Grove Creek had been so wonderful in Alaska, we headed for Poplar River and established the best camp I have ever experienced. Fire pit amongst the cobble, tents up the bank and plenty of wood.

Doing what we do... Burf cooking, Emil fishing and me documenting. 

Equipment check- new water filter works. 

Kali likes camping. 

NWT

While helping a couple change a blown tire on the Dempster, the lady told us NWT wasn't as pretty as Yukon, mostly trees and big rocks. We were more intrigued by the two bottles of wine she insisted we accept as thanks, but by the time we arrived we knew she was correct.

It's not that the NWT sucks, it's a verdant wonderland, but the Yukon is so epic, it is difficult to compare. There's plenty of wildlife as well.

And our interaction with folks continues to be enjoyable. The ENR ranger who sold us our license was very helpful and also fluent in the First Nation dialect for the region. Fascinating to listen to.
Can also report that the rig required an oil change and tire rotation. No problem as we found a family-owned garage with hunters and a daughter that runs the computer and pulls tires off trucks. Couple of hours to get the work done, but drank in their coffee and experience.

September 7th, what's in your forecast?

Greeted with snow flurries as we packed up and the higher we traveled the heavier it fell. Making our way back along the Alaska Highway provided numerous photo ops and some fun driving.

 And a glimpse of our first stone sheep.

Does this make my butt look big?

Not as much to report as we retraced our steps into Watson Lake but new ground in the Northwest Territory awaited.

Campbell Highway

Highway is a dubious term in Yukon, several hundred sloppy miles of potholes and random pieces of iron on the road, but we managed to have fun regardless.

Found some nice Grayling. 

Great fighters

Beautiful Creek culvert was loaded with fish despite its diminutive size. 

On the Klondike

Ran out of roads north so began our gradual descent south on the Klondike Highway.

Anything to get to the fishing. 

Fishing the Klondike. Ask Burf! About the bears he heard he heard and his appropriate response. 

Plenty of grouse in Yukon! 

Grayling from Too Much Gold Creek. 

And Big Brown Bears!

Arctic Circle

It's a long way from home and temperature was below freezing but we made it.

Kali had another great day. Maybe the only gun dog that has ever hunted south of the border fence AND north of the Arctic Circle! 

Very proficient for walking on Arctic snow. 

Burf!'s sourdough will now always have a bit of the Yukon. .. water from Glacier Creek north of the Arctic Circle plus Yukon flour. 

Twenty one

Kali scored her 21st upland species with terrific points and retrieves of Yukon willow Ptarmigan.

Plenty of opportunities. These birds were in a First Nation's reservation so all shots were on film. 

Dempster Hwy

Had to provision in Dawson before heading up the gravel Dempster towards the Arctic Circle.

First crossing of the historic Klondike River.

Beautiful Tombstone Peak in the distance in the Tombstone Territorial Park. 

Stopped into the park office for some intel. Not often you meet a park ranger that tells you where to kill park birds or recommends drinking a lot of beer before bed so you wake frequently to look for the Northern Lights. Just love Yukon! !

Top of the World Hwy

Crossed the border at Boundry in snow flurries with standard conversation with RCMP about why Texans are chasing birds 5000 miles from home. Epic drive across high tundra with views that boggle both from beauty and distance.

Only ferry access to Dawson across the mighty Yukon River. The captain is truly an expert. 

After the show at Diamond Toothed Gerties.

And yes, Yukon must mean "no wifi" in Gwitch'n is why there's been no posting until this catch up opportunity.