The Mobile Hunting Shack, a Landowner Buddy and CRP

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010

The author's vintage 1959 Shasta house trailer allows him to hunt remote areas where little lodging keeps others away.

Years ago, I purchased a 1959 Shasta house trailer from my late neighbor Elmer. (A Navy man in WWII, he drove landing craft during the invasion of Anzio, Italy, and saw dangerous action in North Africa and elsewhere).

The vintage rig’s 17 feet has a beautiful wood veneer interior, bunk bed, booth-style kitchen table, propane furnace, oven with two burner stove, water, sink, closet, cupboards and lots of hunting pictures on the walls. The toilet is the nearest bush.

I love having the trailer because it allows me to hunt an isolated area of North Dakota that has little public lodging – which makes it an even better area to hunt. For several years, we’ve never even seen another car during our hunts. The area is well worth venturing to: in one square mile we always bag pheasants, numerous species of puddle and diver ducks, sandhill cranes, tundra swans (special permit only), sharptails, Huns, dark and light geese and doves. It is a wing shooter’s paradise. I’ve hunted the area for 14 years.

The landowner, Chris, is now letting me park the trailer next to an unused house his late uncle once occupied years ago. He’s letting me plug into the electricity and use the home’s bathroom. Now, my friends and I can stop in for hunting trips with all the conveniences. The best thing is I’m out in the country and far away from town.

On previous trips to Chris’ in the “mobile hunting shack” he had us park on a flat spot where a house once stood in the middle of a sea of grass. There, at night, we’ve heard coyotes howling, crane and geese calling as they pass beneath the stars and been awakened by spectacular displays of Northern Lights. Nothing beats staying in the country when you’re a big city dweller (Minneapolis-St. Paul). Chris understands my love of solitude.

I once offered Chris money for his kindness, but he declined. Instead, he offers us help. “You get in trouble with the weather or anything, just come over to the house. I don’t want you guys freezing out here,” he said once.

I used to bring him whiskey until one year, when I brought another bottle, he chuckled and said, “Heck, Mark, I’ve barely dipped into the one you gave me last year.” Since then, I’ve given him other gifts.

Ours is a gentleman’s agreement about parking the trailer. “It might blow over in the wind,” he warned.

“If it does Chris, I’ll be out to clean up the mess. You get tired of looking at it, just tell me and I’ll come out and take it away – no questions.”

That was good enough assurance for Chris. He knows my word is good: all these years I’ve closed his gates, stayed on field trails while driving, avoided his cattle when shooting and promised not to give him any ducks to eat (a condition of my continued presence on his land).

Chris knows I’m a PF conservationist. He’s always wanted to enroll his land in the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP), but his county’s acreage limit was maxed years ago.

I called Chris the other day to make sure he knows about the Aug. 2-27 CRP sign-up. I hope he gets in. I can just imagine what the already-excellent hunting there will be like if he turns all his land to grass!  Good luck buddy!