A year in pictures… sort of.

I am sitting at the computer looking through pictures from the past year, really organizing them since I have put it off for a year.  The reminiscing and a photo prompt over at the Outdoor Blogger Network lead me to create this not yet end of  year Nimrod clan part of a year in pictures.

What follows is a few pictures I think they tell the story of our year.  Lots of fishing, lots of smiles and countless memories. Trust me selecting just a handful of pictures was tough but I think these display our year well. I hope you enjoy!

Get the kids outside- they will thank you for it.

Munda helping Nimrod clean some fish for supper.

Mundas first fishing trip.

Monkey at the bow.

Prepping the tent.

Checking out the baby horses at the Great relatives

Monkey pointing the way to the mushroom hole.

Munda chillin before a voyage.

Checking out the remnants of the balloon she popped.

A dandy!

Another Dandy!

Monkeys first catfish.

Nimrod's personal best largemouth caught on a fly rod.

Keeping the butterfly garden watered.

The Fishing Princess (just ask her!)

Heading out for Mundas first bow hunt.

Monkey and Nimrod heading out for an evening sit.Monkey and Nimrod heading out for an evening sit.

Monkey and Logger.

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Brief Hiatus

This time its actually a legit reason for a break.  Not only are we in the middle of the Michigan firearm deer season.  Nimrod went and decided to slice his non trigger index finger nearly in half.  Well its not that bad but the doc at the ER felt it was a good time to practice his stitching and left me with 21 of the darn things.

Short story about the finger and how no good deed goes unpunished:  Someone close to Nimrod needed a deer skinned because they have back problems and don’t need to make it worse.  Nimrod had a few minutes to spare and can skin a deer with the best.   3/4’s of the way through, I made an odd cut but no worries.  I work my way around the cut when I hear something behind me.  I turn and see nothing.  I turn back to the deer at hand and continue.   A few seconds later, at the point where knife met hide the cosmos lined up the knife continued through the hide and into my non trigger index finger.

I have nicked my fingers enough to know I can handle most of them with copious amounts of anti germ cream and band aids.  However when I see multiple layers of sub cutaneous matter that should not see the light of day I realize its not time to play macho man… especially dealing with wild game skin/meat.  I won’t gross you out by posting pictures of the mess but will be glad to share with anyone interested!

On the positive side there was no nerve or tendon damage and we were still able to make the annual trip to the Great (not so) White North.  Deer sightings are down but it still beats not being here.  I even made Momma Nature so mad she gave us some snow!

Another positive is I have to keep the finger clean so if the good Lord blesses me with a deer either Logger or Yoop will be stuck field dressing it.  I am truly heart broken about this but have to follow the doctors orders… especially when they benefit you!

While we are in the Northland I am posting brief updates on our Facebook page.  Internet time is limited and the connection is slow, like my typing right now.  Please like our Facebook page.  Posting there is less painful and won’t wear out my spell check.  Let me know your Facebook page and I would be glad to reciprocate the”like” (or is it “liking”?)

Hope everyone is having a wonder late fall/early winter.

Happy Thanks giving from the Nimrod Clan.

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Outdoor Safety

Personal safety can mean different things to different people.  You will prepare differently if you are setting off in the back country of the west over hitting the local wood lots or streams in the Midwest.  The key is preparing for what Murph can and will throw your way.

The Outdoor Blogger Network has given a writing prompt concerning scary situations and preparing for them.  A simple late fall trip to a local trout stream could turn bad if you slip and break something to the point you are no longer ambulatory.  If no one knows where you are and you have no means to signal to people where you are, you just may well turn into turtle food.

I racked my brain for times where I felt that little bit of being scared during an outing. I was unable to think of anytime it has happened.  I would like to think that my prepping and minimizing risk in the field has prevented the situation from getting to that point.  It is more likely that Nimrod is just not smart enough to realize the peril of the situation and trudged through it until I was back safely.  Either way I figured I could share a few things I do to ensure my safety or at the very least proper recovery of my body if any bad things happen.

As you know, Nimrod spends the majority of time in the rural areas of south west Michigan.  Even the largest track of land is crossed with trails and two tracks.  Walk in a straight line long enough you WILL hit a road.  Walk in circles long enough you will be disoriented and dizzy, trust me I know.  So my prepping is probably woefully inadequate for true wilderness outings.

Always carry a compass or GPS.  If your me you carry both.  I always carry a sharp knife, a sharpening stone, a means of defense and a means of communication (i.e. cell phone or 2-way radio).  In cold months I include strike anywhere matches, air activated hand warmers, change of socks/gloves and winter headgear.  You never know who or what you may stumble upon; or what might stumble upon you.  Not everyone is your friend and like it or not there are people out there who want to do you harm.  You may also come across someone who needs your assistance to seek medical help.  Without a way to call you may not be of much help for their survival.

Building redundancy into your plan will save you when the time comes to enact your preps.  As I heard several times in the military “Two is one, one is none.”  Murph will ensure that things will break and batteries will die.  Always when you need them the most.

Have a plan and tell the plan to someone.  Before I set out on an adventure I tell Yoop the rough idea of where I am going and when I plan on getting back.  I have a map and mark on it where I plan to be.  Plans change and you may not be on the exact ridge you said but if the worst happens, this will shrink the search area considerably.  If there are major changes I will call her on my cell phone and describe the new area of operations.

This may seem like overkill but I feel I owe it to Yoop and the monsters.  Nimrod gets time to wander about Gods creation but my true duty is to my family.  I see it like wearing a safety harness when in a tree stand.    It tilts the odds in my favor if Murph decides to join me on the adventure.

I want to give my thoughts on carrying a cell phone with you while you’re out in a non wilderness setting.  I have read about people who head off the pavement and do not want to be bothered.  No doubt one reason we seek to escape the concrete jungle war zone is to get away from the annoyances of day to day life.  However most don’t think it through.

If you follow my plan, when you fail to return at the designated time someone will know something might be up.  Will they head out looking for you?  Will they just try to call?  Will they call for assistance from local law enforcement or fire service personnel?  All depends on the person and what plans you have worked out.

To pay the bills Nimrod has worked in the 911 industry for around 5 years.  I am far from an expert on the technical aspect cell phones/towers/etc but I will share what I have found out answering the call when it rings.

We are not talk about a 911 call from your phone.  Most of the time the information will come in relatively easily when the call is made directly.  If I get a call saying your late; they think something has happened; getting a pinpoint location if your phone is powered off is not likely.  I won’t say it can’t happen but will say I have never been able to get a pin point location when the phone is off.  This will turn the search into a large area, that will take time to complete.  We have a motto where I work.  “Dispatchers save seconds, seconds save lives.”  Often time isn’t critical.  However the one time it is could make a difference in your survival to hunt or fish or hike or bird watch or ??? or ??? or ???.  You get the idea.

Help us help you.  If you don’t want to be bothered in the field, turn your phone on silent not off.  Have a plan.  Tell someone where you are going to be and when you will be back.  If your plans change let your contact know and update them on what changes are being made.  These are basic ideas and may seem like over kill when your wandering the woodlots in the Midwest but your life may depend on how prepared you are.

After years and years of dealing with Murphs antics I like to think I have learned how to deal with problems with they arise.  Whether it is planning ahead of time or having what I need to get to safety.  We hope our experience and planning can help you stay safe when you are out enjoying Gods wonderful creation.

Stay safe, have fun and take lots of pictures!

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The (Broken) Process

The urge.   You know the one.  You are going to sit down and write a masterpiece.  Something powerful, meaningful.  Something that will set the world on fire.

If your me, you do some internet “research.”   You search for that one piece of data that will support your whole idea.  You search and search.  You tweak your search words, refining you word selection as you go.  You find a few things that are close.   Yet the creme de la cream is elusive.

After awhile you stop looking.  You open your word processing software and start to type.  After awhile, you reread what you have written and notice you have strayed off your topic.  Is it fixable?  Maybe.

You read your work again and another idea comes to the forefront.  Oh yea!  This is the one.  The data you need is slightly different.  You start the search again.  You have a small jump start, as the topic is somewhat related to the last one.  You tweak the search again.  But the creme de la cream is no where to be found.  You again stop looking.

Not to be deterred, you save your first rambling, never know when it may make sense to someone, and open another document.  You start tapping the keys again.  You get a few more paragraphs this time.  As you reread it you again stray off the intended topic.  Would someone really want to read the rambling?  Is there any flow?  Would a normal person be able to understand you?  You hit save again.

You take a break, grab something to drink.  Go do some deep thinking on the thinking chair.  Then it hits you.  The best idea you have had.  You finish your thinking and go back to the computer.  You open another document and you stare at the white screen.

After a few minutes you realize your stuck.  You reach for a hunting magazine for inspiration but realize you left them at the thinking chair.  Instead you click over to your favorite outdoor site.  You check in with your buddies.  See what the latest catch or kill is.  You check out the latest gear.  You catch up on unimportant emails.

You close the sites and go back to your blank document.  You tap out a few sentences.  You read them.  They are worst than the first two times.  You erase them and try again.  Same results.   After staring at a blank screen for another few more minutes.  You realize that you are stuck.  Hopelessly stuck.   What to do?

Click over to Outdoor Blogger Network and find another blog to read.  At least someone out there isn’t having a mental block.

A special thanks to, Johan, for letting us use this piece during a time when Nimrods head isn’t quite right.   Thanks!

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Happy Birthday OBN!

In the every expanding and redundant world of electronic communication you occasionally find a means that fits what you need perfectly.  The Nimrod crew doesn’t need phones that are smarter than we are, nor do we need a way of posting to Facebook, Google+, Tweeter, youtube, Vimeo, or whatever else all with the click of a fake button.

Awhile back Nimrod was looking for a way to promote the diaries to other outdoor bloggers/enthusiasts as well as motivation and help with the Diaries.  I tried a few websites but never felt it was a good fit.  Then I found it.  “The One.”

It seems so long ago; seems like yesterday.  The place is the Outdoor Blogger Network.  Tomorrow, Oct 18th, they are celebrating their one year anniversary.  Crazy.  It seems like it was last night I was debating if I wanted more people actually reading the Diaries.  Wait it was.   Anyway, in celebration they are having a series of giveaways to members.  Check out the post on the OBN for more details.

If you have an outdoor blog I highly recommend having it listed in the OBN Directory.  Its free and will give your blog more visibility to the outdoor reader.   I have not taken full advantage of the exposure but know the exposure on OBN can be priceless.   Check them out if your looking for a great outdoor blog to read (don’t worry I won’t think your cheating).  The OBN Directory  has it all.  If they don’t start up the blog and add it to the OBN Directory!

OBN:  Congrats on the first year! We look forward to many, many more.   And thanks for putting up with those of us on the Nimrod Diaries.

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Nimrod on Checking Acorn Crops

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Monopoly, Murph and Mental Batteries

Murph, Murph, Murph. My favorite guy to hate and bash. After a few months of summer without seeing hid nor hair of him. Much to our my chagrin he has decided to return to the Nimrod Ranch.

The working weekend was long. Work had my batteries drained. I was pulling from power reserves that seemingly didn’t exist. Yet like everything, good or bad, it comes to an end. In this case it was a good thing. A very good thing.

Nimrod had one day off in a seven day week and it was upon us. I knew to make the best of it. Yoop, Monkey, Munda and I did several things around the ranch. Campfires, marshmallows, games of monopoly. Just hanging out doing fun family things. The Nimrod battery was recharging smoothly.

One particular game of Monopoly between Monkey and I was a classic example of keeping your mouth shut. Nimrod was laying his best tycoon to poor Monkey. After the third time of landing on St James Place and paying for the hotel, Monkey was ready to call it quits. Ya know throw in the towel. Bow to the Monopoly master.

Trying to instill some perseverance into the young lad I suggested we play a little more. After all the mini miser had a few houses on Boardwalk and Park Place. Telling him you never know what can happen he agreed to play on. My next roll landed my boot on Park Place. Nearly $1000 later and using my money to buy hotels for his dark blue spaces he rolled the dice. He landed in one of the few spaces that were not covered by houses and hotels it was my turn again.

I rolled the dice, confident after a few more rolls I would be the rightful winner, landing on Chance. Drawing the card, all the while looking forward to adding $10 to my cash pile for getting second place in a beauty contest. I flipped it over and read it. I don’t know the exact look on my face but I saw the elation in Monkeys’ eyes as I put my boot on Boardwalk, following the directions of talking a walk on the Boardwalk.

Now with $2000 less in my money pile I began to wonder what was going on. Moving from a position of certain winning to being several behind in the chip count I was left perplexed. After a few more rolls I landed on another of the Monkey owned, hotel laden, properties I payed out the remaining bills from my deleted money pile. Lessoned learned by young and old. Never give up, you never know what might happen.

After the butt whooping in a game for people a few years his elder we continued on to a supper for grilled burgers and sides. Life is good. That battery is nearly full. However part way through the weekend I knew this day off was going to take more than normal to get the batteries back to full charge. The additional drain that was put on my batteries needed a bit of an additional boost to get back to full charge. Anyone who has been in Nimrods shoes knows you can’t leave you batteries only partially charged, you have to get them back to 100%.

Knowing this I had told Yoop the evening was going to have to be spent on some moving water with a fly rod in my hand. I knew the right place for the final charge.

After a great supper and more family time I set off to finish the charge my batteries needed. I drove to a near by creek that happens to be known as the best brown trout fishery for many miles. Time was not on my side. A storm front was moving in at the same time the sun was settling in for the nights rest. I parked the Turse and prep’ed the fly rod for some fun.

Another guy was leaving. We exchanged the normal greetings followed by the standard question of “Did ya catch anything?”

I received a reply of “I caught a limit but if I told you where I would have to kill you.”

Its always good to find other fisherman of a like mind.

I returned to getting the rod ready and opened the trunk to get out some leader material. I moved this and moved that but couldn’t find the leader. Odd since it was left in the trunk after the last Nimrod Crew fishing trip. I looked again, checked under the seats but the leader was missing in action. I looked at the 4 feet of leader on the rod, at the clock and at the sky.

Nimrod is widely known for his decision making ability. Good or bad I make a decision and tonight it was to fish on with a short leader. Figuring it was getting dark, a storm was moving in so the fish would care less about a short leader and more about eating some dinner before the water over flows from rain.

I set off for the creek and meet another guy leaving. This guy was carrying a fish. A big fish. I walked over toward him to check out his catch. A gorgeous steel silver steelhead. He too was tight lipped about where he caught it but made a comment about not snagging it. Since I never even asked about what he was using some flags flew off in my head. Having no proof either way I left the water to flow under the bridge and continued on to finish recharging the internal batteries.

I started at the dam, tossing a caddis fly spin off. After a few minutes I got a raise but missed the hook set. I smiled as the internal battery reached it fully charged point. I continued to fish and worked my way down the creek. Not far down stream I found a hole with at least six visible steelhead feeding violently in an unpredictable cadence. Also a loan chromer sitting idly up stream of a dead fall not far from the others.

Not being one to pass up a chance for fame I offered each of the Oncorhynchus mykiss every fly I had in my fly boxes. Nimrod tried every angle and drift I could think of and successfully pull off with the overhead trees. The Oncorhynchus mykiss continued their unpredictable feeding pattern, all the while predictably ignoring what ever was at the end of my mini-leader. Ignore the fact that if one actually took my offering they would have headed for the log jam, broke off the mini-leader and left my fly reel in smoking pieces. Still would have been a blast.

A short time later I headed for the Turse not run off by rain but the lightning and thunder that accompanied it. There is something about swinging a 9 and a half foot lightning rod that doesn’t appeal to even Nimrod. Call me what you will… electrified I won’t be.

Until next time remember to never give up and don’t leave your leader and tippet at home.

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Summer Trip to Yooperland.

I know, I know. You have been waiting and waiting. Thinking about asking me whats the hold up. Wondering if the great outdoors has some how disappeared from the Nimrod ranch. Alas my friends it has not. Work has kept me busy and being Daddy Nimrod has stole the time needed to type out Diary entries for your reading enjoyment. But to quote a great rock song “Here we go again (on our own).”

A well earned summer break has brought the Nimrod crew to the Great Not So White north. Turns out it was in conjunction with Mother Nature deciding to punish the inhabitants of a large portion of the USA. While picking some litter from a Yooper stream I realized mother nature was showing those who have repeatedly not taken care of her what they face if they continue to trash Gods beautiful creation.

Back up to the launch of the adventure. Yoop and I loaded up Monkey and Munda for the journey to the promise land. Rather than packing the rifles we brought our fishing poles, including Nimrods’ fly rod. Would anyone leave the fly rod at home when your going to the middle of some of the best trout streams in the State if not the world? Of course not even if you have no experience fly fishing for trout and the creeks maybe a hair over grown with trees and grass.

On the morning of the launch, I got out of work in the wee morning arrived home to pack the Yoopmobile. Normally we would load the lil’ Nimrods and point the beast north shortly after Nimrod arrived home. Not this time. There is a certain destination the Nimrod crew uses as a halfway break. Its also a long time favorite store for hunters and fisherman as they head into Michigan’s northland. Just so happens this certain slice of heaven (Jays Sporting Goods if your interested) was having its annual sidewalk sales with items in every department up to 80% off. Yea thats right; hunting and fishing stuff up to 80% off… 20 cents on a dollar. It was a closeout sale so we wanted to get there around opening or else we could miss out on a deal. Ya know the fugal Nimrod clan had to check this out.

We set sail about 7am, pointing the Yoopmobile east, then north, then east. Its not a straight cardinal direction to the northland but it works. Monkey and Munda did well on the first leg of the journey only bickering the majority of the time. Nimrod drove the first 50 miles. Far enough to get Yoop out of the concrete jungle of the GR into more laid back less crowded roads she could do less damage on. After that Nimrod crawled into the co-pilots seat and sunk into a pillow. Turned on the MP3 player to a new Wild Michigan Radio podcast. Go figure the main man Duran keeps you entertained throughout the show (both hours) and Nimrod didn’t get the much needed shut eye.

Before we knew it the ship was about to land on this slice of heaven. I had never been to this sale but Logger went a few years back and said the deals were out of this world. I was stoked. After we parked, Munda and I skipped hand in hand to the front door. “There it is Johnny!”

Before opening the doors we admired a sweet 3-D mural of deer and trees and other stuff on the side of the building. I started to get chills all over and I couldn’t open the door to the promise land. Yoop looked at me like I was nuts and said move I need to get to the little girls room and off her and Munda went.

Monkey and I worked our way the same direction. Checking out the sale items as we went. The true reason Yoop allowed me to attend this sale from the heavens was Nimrod is in the market for another compound bow. Late last summer Nimrod was playing lumberjack at Base Ops, clearing out an over grown tree line for Grey Beard and Knitter. You may remember last years hiatus entry. Since then every time I shoot Kabekona the pain shoots from my wrist like rays of light from the setting sun; except it lasts for a few weeks. I reluctantly came to the conclusion if there was going to be a 2011 Bow season I was going to have to change something.

Sadly that meant selling Kabekona and buying a compound. I hate to see the longbow go. She is gorgeous and shoots like a dream. Yet times change and we can change with them or miss the main event… Michigans Greatest season!

After some haggling, getting the shaft and then finding a competent employee at the second store location I walked out the door with a brand spanking new compound bow package and less one longbow. While I hate to see that longbow go, turns out the store manager was a traditional archery guy and will be taking good care of her. The total cost of $59 (thats right: fifty-nine dollars!!) out the door made letting her go much less painful. On the way to check out I meanders over to the fly fishing bins. I glanced at Yoop and she gave me a look. I had seen this look before but never really figured out what it meant. I decided not to push my luck made my way to the check out counter.

The rest of the trip was pretty painless. The wild ones in the back seat did well. Watched a few movies, bickered back and forth. You know typical family trip things that happen on summer vacation trips (of course Book and I never fought on trips as lil ones).

Munda woke up from a nap just before we arrived at the Mackinac Bridge. I preped Yoop by giving her a dose of sedative and handing her an unbreakable stick. If you didn’t know Yoop isn’t a fan of bridges. Especially ones that span around 5 miles at a few hundred feet over the surface of water that is a few hundred feet deep. I give her a hard time but she takes it in stride. Remind me later to tell you about crossing the Mackinac Bridge in winter with a few inches of fresh snow on the bridge deck and the weather eerily similar to a blizzard. Never knew a women that could bend quarters with her hand. I think squeezing them so hard they heat up near the melting point of the metal.

Anyway while we were crossing, Monkey was asking a bunch of questions as we crossed over the Big Mac bridge. He saw the expansion joints and asked what they were. Wanting the young man to be as knowledgeable as possible I explained how the expansion joints moved back and forth. I emphasized the lesson by joining my fingers on each hand and moving them back and forth, as the expansion joints will.

Yoop squeaked something about keeping hands on the steering wheel. I glanced over to her and for the sake of saving the dashboard from permanent finger marks from her hands, I put my hands back on the wheel. Some people just don’t get the importance of an on the spot lesson. A few hours later the Yoopmobile pulled into Loggers driveway and our fun really began. More to come, hopefully sooner than later.

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Fidge and Nimrod School a Horse

We’re back at to tell the final story of the Nimrod UP Thanksgiving/ Deer Hunting trip. We left off awhile back reliving the exciting moments of Yoop and Logger putting some classic Yooper smack down on some deer.

The next day Fidge arrived in the great not so white north and it was decided the young man and I would head out to Loggers deer condo. We loaded up and headed toward the woods. We stopped at a small store on the way to load up on Vernors and Snickers. When we turned off the main highway it was game on. Like Clark Kent stepping into the phone booth, Fidge and I instantly had our game faces on. There was no doubt in our minds that we were coming back to Loggers empty handed.

Once we got near the condo, I parked the truck. Fidge gave me a funny look and asked “Aren’t you going to drive up to the condo?”

Perplexed by the question it took me a second to realize he wasn’t joking. I replied “Are you legs broke?”

“No”

“Then no I ain’t driving to the condo. Grab your stuff and let’s get walking.”

After a debate about whether the heater was needed on a fall like winter evening we settled in for what we knew was going to be a great night for some Nimrod venison collection.

After what seemed like 30 minutes, I checked my clock and confirmed it had been 30 minutes. Nothing yet.

About 5 minutes later I was woken from my slumber by what I first thought was a raccoon scrounging through a garbage can. I slowly opened my eyes and looked toward the sound. I was somewhat relieved, as well as annoyed, to find the noise was Fidge tearing into his Snickers and Vernors. I thought about asking if he could be any noisier but was scared to find out the answer.

“See anything yet?” I whispered.

“Just some birds.”

“Me either.”

This routine continued on for most of the evening. At one point Fidge woke me asking “Is that a deer on yourside?”

My pulse quickened and I lifted my binos to peek.

“Nope. That’s a horse.” I replied without thinking.

“I thought they got rid of their horses?” He questioned.

The fog cleared from my head and I remember he was right. I looked again and it was a deer, a huge deer about the size of a small horse. Not one of those miniature toy horses either. It was a small Clydesdale. I looked harder and saw some normal sized deer crossing behind the horse; suddenly the plan to not return empty handed look more reasonable. We only needed the horse and crew to cross the opening, follow a ridge line a couple hundred yards and then pop out for a simple 80 yard rifle shot. Game on!

Fidge and I sat perfectly silent waiting on what was coming next. The anticipation built as time passed. So did the noise level in the condo. Between Fidges flatulence and crinkly snickers wrapper and me waking the dead when I opened the condo window, there was no way horse and friends knew we were there.

Turns out horse and friends had different ideas. They felt it better to parade back and forth across the opening never coming down the ridgeline and therefore never offering us a shot. By dusk Fidge and I counted about 15 deer. Were they the same ones, taking turns walking the cat walk? Who knows? We didn’t return empty either. We brought the trash from the condo back to Loggers. Don’t want those pesky raccoon rifling through the trash.

Check back soon for the belated finale with Nimrods lever action bowhunt!

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Easter bunny delivers!

Hope you don’t mind a quickie. Life is rolling on and on here at the Nimrod Ranch.

Turns out with the selling of the Heep and me being forced into driving the Turse has forced me into a corner. The lil ol boat Monkey and I used on our excursions to the numerous small lakes around the ranch doesn’t fit on top of the Turse.

So I set out on a short journey and the other night the Easter Bunny delivered our new vessel. A 15 foot canoe. We have plans for her maiden voyage and she is yet unnamed.

I am open to any idears for names for her. Shes not the sleekest boat in the water, but a pretty green with three seats. If you have an idear post a comment or post something to our Facebook Page. While your there click on “Like.”

Oh by the way, the Easter Bunny bringing the vessel home was more than a cliche… check out Yoops Bunny Wagon!



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