Autumn Hunting with Gilbert

Autumn is the most colourful time of the year. The evergreens as their name implies stay green all year. The deciduous change colour, their leaves green,  gold, orange red and brown.  The leaves fall and trails become carpeted with the crinkling cracking old leaves.  It’s a cycle, a message of nature.
I left Vancouver after the Friday morning clinic.  I had to first drop my Harley Davidson Motorcycle at Trev Deely for winter storage.  They feed him oil toddies through the winter, play Doobie brothers, Third Day, Steppenwolf and Led Zeppelin in the night, have girls dressed in leather bikinis wash and shine him, then give him back to me in spring ready to ride. After that I loaded the white Ford F350 pick up truck.  I thought about brining the KLM 690 enduro but white the weather was supposed to be sunny I feared frost and snow.  Also as the hunting season progresses I tend to strip down to basics.
I only had my Ruger 30:06, Ruger 223 semi auto and over under 20 gauge.  The 223 was as much for target practice as a back up rifle. I always have a back up rifle since the gunsmith I only used once gave me my Browning 30:06 back firing when I put it on safety.  Thankfully I had tested it out in the woods before the morning hunt so didn’t shoot any of the fellows I was with. I had another rifle and that served. I did give the gunsmith a piece of my mind and didn’t go back to him again.  That was on the Island.  Reliable Guns here in Vancouver have only done praiseworthy and Reliable work.
I enjoyed the drive up with Gilbert, beating the regular traffic jam at Langley.  I had a William Johnstone Western Audio book and enjoyed the tale of good guys and bad guys, good women and fallen women. I stopped at the Villager having phoned ahead for a room. That’s the motel I had in my mind when I booked it but they had no reservation and I didn’t remember which other motel it could be. I checked out the Villager in the summer, finding it pet friendly and really well run. Fortunately they had a room.   7 pm and I  was already unloading.  The pub next door had a great burger and an extra paddy of meat for Gilbert. We watched tv in the room and enjoyed dinner before an early night.
I was up at 530 and at the A&W which opened at 6 to get my thermos of coffee, an egger and sausage sandwich and hash browns.  I’d forgotten Gilbert’s sweater, having had him groomed at Dogtopia that week. It was frosty and cold with a light wind.   I wrapped him in a blanket and carried the blind old guy with me to the side of a cut, upwind.  Sitting in ambush in the woods I watched the sun came up.  Not a sign of game.  After an hour with Gilbert shivering I decided to walk up the trail.  It really was serene and beautiful. I had Gilbert’s leash tied to my belt. He followed right along behind trusting, with that endearing high wide stepping walk he’s developed.
I read a fellow saying he didn’t like the term ‘hiking’ for his time in the woods preferring  ‘saunter’ as it was more sacred word. I wasn’t ‘stalking’ .  That required more effort, a kind of tai chi stopping and starting slow motion movement in the woods.   I wasn’t hiking either.    Slowly sauntering, seemed to describe it. I was stopping for Gilbert to maneuver any obstacles as we moved through the forest. It was a lovely time. The colours so divine, the scents of earth and forest so rich.  I was warming up too so I  stripped off an over coat leaving it hanging on a tree for  pick up on the way back.  I’d seen a grouse but didn’t shoot it for fear of frightening other bigger game.
Later in the day I saw another grouse. I stopped the truck then, reached for the 20 gauge shot gun,  stepping out of the truck  and loaded the gun as I went.  Just as I was raising it to my shoulder the bird flew off leaving me only a tail on shot, least likely to succeed, especially at that distance. I then let Gilbert out. He was so excited.  Despite his blindness he ranged out through the underbrush and woods sniffing up a storm and trying to find another bird to raise.  That’s been our pattern. Usually I shoot the one I see then he raises several more.  Today there was only that one but I was so moved by the intrepid little fellow plowing blindly through the bush in search of game..
No more birds and no big game. I shot some targets.  It was so warm in the afternoon I was able to go shirtless.  I’d taken Gilbert for a walk using the clicker that my nephew Graeme gave me for the blind dog. Gilbert responded well to the clicker and following behind me and whenever he got off track, listening for the clicks and correcting his course.  It was a long grassy trail through a pasture.
 Eventually we headed back into town.   I was able to find Gilbert a black and red sweater coat hoodie at Everything Pets. I had a delicious meat pie at Thomasinas where the delightful owner is running for Council.   I stopped by at the hunting store for more targets and couldn’t resist buying a little knife made locally.  I hardly had time for a half hour nap  before it was time to head back out for the night hunt.
It was 5 pm.  Aunset is about 630 pm. Hunting is over about a half hour after official sunset because of darkness.  All the hunting spots around Princeton are about 20 minutes drive.  I was loving my Cabelas lined moccasins but made the effort to put my Romanian hiking books back on. Night hunts are more serious affairs.  Still bending and lacing boots gets harder every year.
I drove around the woods passing a regular convention of other hunters doing just the same thing. We’d wave at each other, sometimes stop and chat. No one was seeing any bucks. Lots of doe but no bucks.  With the bright moon and the sunny hot days the bucks tend to stay up high and not come out till after dark. The views were wonderful though. I loved the dusk with the moon coming up and the sun setting.  I saw a couple of really fast rabbits at end of light disappearing a second after their shy appearance.
Back at the motel my neighbour had a buck in the back of his truck. A handsome young man with beautiful blond wife and what looked like a younger brother. All us old guys had been talking about there being no bucks. Here was evidence to the contrary.  A dedicated hunter who was going to feed his family in style that winter.  There were a half dozen does on the lawns in the town too, spies, taking note of the hunters and their trucks to pass on the information to their male colleagues. So much for old guys saying they’re not catching fish or shooting game because of Climate Change:)
Next morning I planned to head back to the city on the  back woods logging roads as opposed to the highway.  I packed everything in the truck and checked the room one last time before driving to A&W to fill my Thermos and get another egger and sausage and hash browns to go. I finished the Johnstone audio book and now had begun a Bill Brooks Audio Western.   I iistened as  I drove on the highway to the logging road.  That’s when the hunt began and I had to turn off the gunfighting and give my undivided attention to looking for game and avoiding driving over a cliff.  The sun was beautiful coming over the mountains.   At the top I was surprised by two does crossing the road. I was out of the truck loading the rifle in case a buck was falling. No such luck.
Then a bear crossed the road running full out down hill.  Another black bear going the same speed crossed the road going up hill. Neither left the woods and bush except to cross the road and by their speed I guessed that someone had already shot at them this season.  I expect they were ‘prejudiced’  against us and objected to sound of the truck.  They would need to have some sensitivity training before either would embrace ‘diversity’ after this season’s experience with the strangers in their midst.
Another lovely autumn morning.  When I finally come out on the freeway I enjoyed the ride home with the audio book and a thermos of coffee .  I was back before noon.  As yet no big game for the butcher or freezer.  But definitely Gilbert and I had a good hunting weekend in the autumn woods.