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  1. #191
    Real Retriever Coalman's Avatar
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    A Special Place

    10-01-14
    This is a very special spot.



    My dad's last deer hunt in a place he called home every Thanksgiving week for 60 years.

    We set him in a chair. When I came up to him he was looking through his scope down the road. I asked him what he saw and he told me "memories".



    My dad's wishes when he passed were to have his ashes spread over this area from a plane. I brought his ashes up with me last year but due mechanical difficulties the plane was grounded.

    This year new pilot, new plane. We are going to lay him to rest.

    These are Bay's first wild birds. Belle's first grouse will be dedicated in his honor.



    I miss you dad.


  2. #192
    Real Retriever Coalman's Avatar
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    2006 was the last year my dad went into Carlton Brook and the Twin Pine Camp. I hadn't been there in a few years and volunteered to bring him up seeing he could not make the trip alone. From then on until his death in 2013 his physical condition did not allow him a journey so far from home.

    What was even harder this trip was his best friend and owner of the camp was sick. Each one knew in this picture it was the last time they would see each other. Sadly Jr. passed the following year.



    It was after this last hurrah emotional trip I made a promise to my dad to keep his tradition alive. He could still live the camp life once a year through me. I have not missed a year since then, even if it were only for a couple days.

    Three years ago I swapped deer hunting for partridge hunting into Carlton Brook. For these last few years our band of bird hunters have been the first to occupy the camp each fall.

    Deer hunting is just what it is for northern ME. Tough as nails. The country is vast and by the fourth week of November a twig snap would send every deer to hiding.
    But not the birds. All I can say is WOW! A buddy of mine was in the Allagash last week moose hunting. His comment "We saw groups of 4 to 6 partridge at a time". The Twin Pine is not too far from there.

    I am really excited, excited to swing and shoot at a fleeing ruff, to hold that beautiful bird in my hand as I let Belle inhale the intoxicating smell.

    Please say a prayer for us. Most of the week I will be alone many miles from any hard road. In God we trust!

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    Scoutpout (10-18-2014)

  4. #193
    Real Retriever Coalman's Avatar
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    Maine Partridge Camp 2014

    Maine Partridge Camp 2014



    Belle is a keeper. Can’t believe the distance at which she can smell a bird. Everyday afield I learned her and she, me. By the end of the week we were Team Belle! She has no quit. Not one day down due to injury and she sure charged hard through the spruce and fir thickets.

    It totally amazes me how the dog after running into the woods and flushing as many as three grouse in all directions can find their way back to the road always in full gait. Bay does the same thing.

    Very few words were spoken as we hunted. Hand commands were our communication. I like stealth in the partridge woods. No bells, but she always had her GPS locator collar on.

    She flushed too many grouse to count. While the birds humbled my shooting skills, ten grouse graced my game bag through the week. They sure tasted good cooked on the woodstove.



    Belle’s first wild birds. These were the 11th and 12th flushes and shot # 4 and #5. I secretly think she never thought I would hit one of those missiles. That is my dad’s 12 gauge. A perfect match for her first grouse.



    Saturday Morning was my most memorable hunt with her. She is a grouse dog supreme.

    10-11-14
    The most memorable partridge of camp this week. A hundred yards from our parking spot Belle flushed a single. A couple hundred yards further a triple and all flushed into the woods, no shot. Just before we made the turn to head back Belle flushed a double, one into the woods and one straight down the road. At the shot the bird flinched and glided into the woods. All this time with Belle in hot pursuit.

    I stood where I shot and a few seconds later Belle comes back to me with a very live grouse in her mouth. When she dropped it, the partridge ran and was pounced on.

    Good girl Belle!



    Belle's first limit of grouse Monday after spreading my dad's ashes over the hunting camp. I know his spirit led the way.





    Belle's Carlton Brook Christmas Tree



    Number 3 and 4. Thanks Dad!



    And remember....never....ever...spoil your bird dog.



    Thank you to my wife for holding down the homestead in order to make my dream of a bird hunter come true!

  5. #194
    Senior Dog IRISHWISTLER's Avatar
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    Good on ye TEAM BELLE. Dave, ye Dad is surely smiling down on ye and BELLE for honoring the tradition he created for ye. A great Dad he must have been. T'was nice to see it all coming together for TEAM BELLE and the tribute for your Dad is so much of a connection to all that he loved. Dave, ye post is moving beyond words.

    Respectfully,
    IRISHWHISTLER
    TEAM TRAD PRO STAFF
    DUBLIN DUCK DYNASTY

    Joanie Madden, Mary Bergin, Adrea Coor, and Nuala Kennedy, each an Irish whistle goddess in her own right.

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    Coalman (10-13-2014)

  7. #195
    Senior Dog Sandra's Avatar
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    Great story. Congratulations to you and Belle. Hunting memories are very special.

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    Coalman (10-14-2014)

  9. #196
    Real Retriever Coalman's Avatar
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    Few more pictures

    The scenery was gorgeous. I bet I walked 25 miles during the week.



    Rainbow after Wednesday hail storm.



    Belle at "Dad's Stand"



    When I first saw these there was one cock displaying to three hens. By the time I got the camera out he was the only one left. We never did flush these birds when we hunted that area a couple days later.



    Belle taking a swim in her namesake.



    Two heads are better than one.


  10. #197
    Senior Dog Scoutpout's Avatar
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    Wonderful memories, and what a great hunting week to make more memories. Think you've done your Dad proud.

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    Coalman (10-20-2014)

  12. #198
    Real Retriever Coalman's Avatar
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    10-24-14
    Got Belle out last weekend for woodcock. Those little doodles are hard to find. We haven't flushed one in NH yet this season. Going to try our camp in western Maine and see if they are hiding there.

    Hunters find more stuff. On state forest land I found an old homestead. Next to the old foundation was a hole in the ground. You guessed it an open well. Contacted the state and they are going to send a forester out to cap it. I didn't want Belle anywhere near it.

    Following a faint trail down an old twitch road in a cutoff I found a bone yard. Even a bear skull.



    Belle found a barbed wire fence Saturday. A big yelp, a little hair but no worse for wear.

    Our upland quest continues.

  13. #199
    House Broken Brutus's Avatar
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    Love reading your stories about what a Lab is born to do and loves doing!

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    Coalman (10-26-2014)

  15. #200
    Real Retriever Coalman's Avatar
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    10-25-14
    In life there is always something special about "firsts". Today was one of those days. The last couple times out with Belle our quarry was woodcock. Yet we flushed nary a bird. Frustrating because I thought we were in the right cover.

    So last night with Belle in the back seat and under the cover of darkness the Ford pulled into Sampson's Bay located on the east side of a western Maine mountain. Tomorrow we would hunt the "Farm" a 78 acre old homestead with a clear view of camp mountain. Old fields, seeps and choppings. Really prime regenerating forest habitat I so hoped would hold a doodle or two.

    We would not be disappointed.

    Not one hundred yards from the truck in an old apple orchard seep Belle put two woodcock to flight. Gotta admit it was a little surprising and my shooting skills suffered. Did I mention it was very thick? It couldn't all be my fault.

    We worked the remaining cover without a flush. On the road down to the bog Belle did her classic nose in the air, charge into the woods routine. This doodle offered a much better shot and the single twenty was true. Note, I had nothing to do with it.

    Belle's nose led her to the downed bird and with a classic retrieve on a bright sunny morning in the wilds of Maine, Belle had her first woodcock.



    Up and down the bog we went, nothing. Back into the pricker infested choppings, nothing. So we returned to the original seep that held the two early morning birds. Belle put up another woodcock in the same location. Did I mention before it was thick?

    There was no way after the shot I could see if the bird had fallen. I marked the flight path of which Belle had already honed into and went in search.

    Oodles to the pooch. Belle, a flushing lab, gave me a half hearted point, then pounced. Up she came with a very live woodcock. I would have NEVER found that doodle without her. Much praise was heralded on my budding bird dog.

    One last hunt along the field edge would bring us back to the truck. That is when Mr Ruff stepped in. Right by the old barn foundation a partridge exploded. Caught me off guard and I admit to shooting underneath the rapidity escaping bird. Ha, now I know where you live.

    A very memorable day for my young hunter. Four woodcock and one grouse put to flight.

    Two woodcock came home.



    Our upland quest is becoming a reality.

    Thank you Irishwhistler and Steelhead Fred. She makes me proud.

 



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