Archive for the ‘Don Zipp’ Category

Don’s new title

Thursday, March 20th, 2008

   If/when next you see Donald Zipp, of Pincherry Rd, and Eckerman fame, please refer to him as “Don the Beautiful” or “Don of Charlevoix the beautiful”. He will be the main reason that the city’s main tourist attraction will be known and celebrated. Wonderful things are going to happen to that city, and now I can say “I knew him when”. It’s an honor Don, CONGRATULATIONS!

Born onto us this day….June 3rd, 2007

Monday, June 11th, 2007

   Hey everybody. I’ve been camping with Mark for the last week or so, so my duties here have slipped a little, and to catch up:

Sheridan Ann Zipp was born to Don and Carolyn Zipp (Don, of Pincherry fame and lineage) on June 3rd at 2:25pm. She weighed 5lbs, 4oz and 18″ long.

   I saw her last week and she’s adorable, much better looking than her dad and favors her mom.

An email from Don

Thursday, March 15th, 2007
Well….I went Steelhead Fishing this morning Mike. I was wading in the water at 7:17 a.m. The temperature was a “snappy” 18º and the wind was aggressively ” Gnawing ” at what little amount of skin that was exposed to it ,by the way, “Mr. Wind” as I like to refer to him, was kickin’ chicken from his home in the North.
So….I was using a #9 Swedish Pimple(single hook) tipped with a medium sized Shiner. My first cast went about 50′, I  couldn’t maneuver my fingers as well as I would have liked to, for the simple fact that I couldn’t FEEL them, I fumbled a tad-bit to feel the reel handle, closed the bail and P-O-W!!!! Holy shit!!! I half-heartedly set the hook and the fish was on….and so was the fight!!! For safety sake I set the hook one more time and that did it, the fish that was on the other end of my line was PISSED OFF!!! The Ol’Boy was heading to “The Beavers”. The fish was peeling out line like 10 muthas’, the drag was set way too light, so I attempted to tighten it a little bit. Well….I shoulda’ just left the drag well enough alone, I couldn’t feel a fuckin’ thing because my fingers were so fucking cold, I thought I only tightened it a little bit but no….S-N-A-P!!!!  That’s all she wrote.
First cast….Fish on!!!! 30 second fight….All over but the Jabbing pain in my frozen fucking hands on the drive back home!!!
God I love fishing.

Don Zipp talks of his unique pets

Wednesday, January 31st, 2007

When I was growing up, dogs were very important to my family, and they still are, I have 4 dogs myself, if Ilived in the country I probably would have 24!! Hopefully someday real soon I will!!

I really can’t pin-point one particular Dog out of the bundle that I or my family have had, to be really honest, each and every one of them had their own little personalities and querks that I loved and appreciated.

There is this one though that I find myself thinking about quite alot. Iwas given a female Beagle pup when I was 14, she was a holy terror on rabbits, I would put her in the top 5 of the best Beagles that I have had throughout the years. I knew I had something good in this dog, she was the dog that was going to start a new line of Beagles that would relentlesly create problems for the “Rabbits of Pincherry”. I tried keeping an eye on her cycles, as much as a 14 year old could, but inevetably Football and Salmon Season had the best of my eye at that time of year. Before I knew it “Brownie” was pregnant….Iwas devistated. My dad wanted to dispose of the puppies as they were born, there were times when he was raising Labs. that mistakes happened and he would have the Vet. come over and take care of the problem as not to taint the gene pool when the Sire was unknown, well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. At that time Brownie was the only dog our family had in the house, the Labs. were in-kennel and my Dad said it would be alright to have another dog, so I decided to keep one of the puppies and Iwould give the others away. Well time went by and nature took it’s course and it was time for the new arrivals to enter the world. This was exciting to all of us because we had no clue as to what was going to “pop” out of Brownie!! The first pup to come out was still-born, he was a long haired critter, black with brown feet and muzzle, much like a Gordon Setter. The second born was a liver colored Beagle looking thing, my Brother claimed him, he became known as Lightning. The third pup was this long-haired chocolate Lad whom I labled as “Thunder”. The two pups were the joy of the Zipp Household, when they were able to go outside for the first time my Brother and I were like a couple of 6 year-olds, for some reason those two “mutts” were like our own blood, speaking of blood….as Randy and I were watching the two pups we heard the screeching of breaks and a small “THUD”…. BROWNIE WAS TOAST. I think there was a higher power involved with the death of Brownie. As the result of her death we were able to keep both Thunder and Lightning as house-dogs.

Thunder was the most loyal dog that I have had and probably ever will have, he was this half Beagle half Cocker Spaniel ( Cub, my Grandpa Zipps’ dog….had to be) that was the first and only dog to chase and kill Mink!!!! honestly people, Thunder would trail the Mink through the Horton Creek and dig them out of the bank, catch them and kill them!!!! I have it on tape. Thunder was such a laid back dude in the house that my very young cousins would grab him by the ear and literally pull him across the hardwood floor, from one end of the Living Room to the other!! Thunder wouldn’t even whine, he would just wag his tail and take the torture like a man and when it was done he would go outside and piss on my Uncle’s tire!!!

Thunder lived to be 18 years old, when I was 24 years old I was blessed with a beautiful Son, Gunnar. Gunnar was able to spend the first 6 years of his life with Thunder. I have hundreds of pictures of Gunnar and Thunder playing out in my Parents yard, or, of Gunnar following Thunder around in the creek while Thunder was catching Frogs, he’d never kill them, but if Gunnar got ahold of one….well you know. Gunnar is a tough kid, he’s seen a few dogs come and go but he still has a hard time talking about Old Thunder…. I guess as I sit here and type this little piece…. I do to.
_________________

Hooter was saved from a flock of merauding Crows!!!! My buddy Hoppy and I happened to be staying at my parents house one week while they were down-state galavanting or something when a series of events unfolded that I will never forget.
Hop and I were sitting at the dinner table when we noticed a whole boat-load of Crows going over the backyard, there was a mad feverish rush to get to the gun-vault and grab whatever shotguns we could get our 20 year old hands on!!!! After a brief struggle we were out the sliding glass door and down the back steps, shotguns in hand, and the pockets of my sweat-pants bulging with .20 gauge shells and Hoppies shorts were drooped with .12 ga. loads, we were off to kill a mess of Crows!!! As we made our way into the Pine Tree stand, the noise emenating from the flock of Crows was almost deafening. We also noticed that the flock had stopped, we couldn’t see them but they were definately in one spot. Hop and I crept our way deeper into the Pines, the farther we went , the louder it got. As we went toward the middle of the stand where a huge Maple Tree stood, it was real clear where the Crows were, they were going absolutely APE-SHIT. There must have been 100 of those Black Bastards in and at the bottom of the tree. Before I knew it ol’ Hoppy was cutting loose with my Old Mans’ Long Tom….I f I didn’t know that gun was a bolt action I woulda’ swore on a stack of Hustlers that it was a semi-automatic!!!! I joined in on the fun, there were Crows dropping from the Maple, out of the air and off of the ground, the funny thing was that they weren’t leaving. We must have killed 50+ of those things, I was out of shells and so was Hop. The really messed up part of the whole deal was that the remaining Crows were still hanging out within a100 yd. radius of us and that old Maple. One very bold Crow flew between Hop and I and was sitting at the bottom of the tree, we sat there and watched as it would hop to the base and peck at somethig and then hop back, there was something in there that the Crows wanted!!
Hop and I shooed the Crow away and got down on our hands an knees and peered into the hollow base of the Maple, to the amazement of our Powder Burnt eyes, sat tucked int the hollw was an Owl!!! Thats what was driving the Crows crazy.
Not only was it an Owl but a small Screech Owl, probably the one that would scare the living shit out of me as I was leaving my Bow Stand at night!!!! Spooky shit!!!
Hop and I could tell that the ol’ boy was messed up a bit, he wasn’t scared, mabey because he was in shock from the massive Crow attack. I was the only one who was wearing gloves so I reached into the hollow and much to our suprise the Owl didn’t put up a fight, he just latched onto my glove with both feet and held on quite tightly. Ipulled him out and sure as shit would have it, his wing was broke.
We took the ol’ boy back to the house. On our way back the two of us were laughing like hell at the fact of killing 50 Crows and ending up saving the life of a Screech Owl, Hoppy was smart enough to grab a dead Crow to skin and cut up for our new patient to eat.
Neither of us knew how to fix a broken wing for Gods sake….but we’d try and succeed!!!
For the next couple of weeks, “Hooter” as we called him, made a great recovery. About the second week Hoppy and I couldn’t tolerate him in our apartment that we were renting (PARTY PALACE/BACHELOR PAD actually), so I decided to stay at my parents place out in the country and see of Hooter would fly away soon.
My Folks enjoyed the Shit out of Hooter, I would set him out on the deck and he would just sit there and check the Cat out, and vise-versa, neither one had the balls to do anything to each other. Hooter also ate like a Son-of-a- Bitch…. we had all kinds of people picking up road-kill rabbits for him. (By the way, Hooter never ate the Crow, must not have liked dark meat).
Hooter ended up staying out at my Mom and Dads place for another week, they both liked his company I guess, Hooter must have liked theirs because he didn’t fly away!!!

I ended up coming down with the Flu. that following week and my folks were going down-state again, they asked me to stay at the house and watch the Dogs and feed the fire while they were gone, so I did, there is nothing like sitting by a wood-fire when you have the Flu!!!
Hooter was in the habit of going outside around a half-hour before dark and sitting on the deck, then flying out to the edge of the woods where he had a Perch, he’d stay there for the night or somewhere and be back on the porch the next morning.
The second night Hooter didn’t come back, I was sure he felt good enough to try it on his own, so I passed it on to my Folks and to Hoppy that Hooter was on his own!!!! We all congratulated each other on a job well-done and that was that.

Hooter wasn’t seen for a week, nor did I hear him at night for the week I stayed at my Folks place.
I still was feeling like shit warmed over, I was up at about 3:00 am. on Sun. morning with the Runs. I was standing next to the Wood Stove which is next to the back, sliding glass door when I heard something on the deck. I turned the light switch on and….I’ll be go to hell if it wasn’t Hooter!! not only did he come back for a visit but he brought a dead Rabbit with him!!! No shit!!! I slid the door open, poked my head outside and Hooter looked at me those big ol’ black eyes and as if to say thanks, he took off without the Rabbit!!!!

No one saw him again, but once in a while when I would be coming out of the woods in the dark of evening after a Bow-Hunt, OL’ Hoot, or one of his offspring would scare the shit out of me with a long blood curdling screech!!!

Six inches of Ram-rod, by Don Zipp

Wednesday, December 13th, 2006

   I was talking (IM’ing) with Don yesterday, and he was telling me about something that happened to him while hunting on the Sunday before. I found it quite informative and I asked him to write it up and send it to me so I could post it here. I hope you all enjoy it, but even more importantly, take it with you for future reference.

Sunday afternoon found me frantickly trying to get my dads’ muzzleloader to fire, the charge would only ignite if I put extra powder in the “Flash Pan”. My dad has had a terrible Deer Season this year, only seeing a very few deer has frustrated the living shit out of him!! So…. I took it upon my self to try and give him an extra oppurtunity at bagging a deer by tuning in his Blackppowder Gun. After running 5 shots through the rifle, each time firing 3-4 caps and extra powder in the “Flash Pan”, it was decided that the Nipple was too long and he needed to buy a shorter one, as the energy from the cap wasn’t reaching the powder-load with enough intensity to ignite and fire the weapon.
    After 3 hours of struggling with my Dads’ gun, I decided to go out and scout around the area where I do most of my deer hunting during the rifle season, and see if there has been any activity of late. I went to the area and did some walking and checking and saw enough deer sign to warrant an early morning hunt the next day (Sunday). I decided to go to my blind and sit for the remainder of the afternoon in hopes of catching the deer on their way from their bedding areas to their feeding grounds, and, hopefully put a .240 grain Hornady .50 cal. bullet behind the front shoulder of an unsuspecting buck!! well…. by the time the sun was fully engulfed by the surrounding ridges in my area, and the trees all became one large black mass of confusion, the only bucks I saw were the ones congured up in my wild imagination!!
    4:30 a.m. came as a new day with new hopes of bagging a buck with my muzzleloader this year. As I donned my hunting apparell and gathered my gear for a new day afield, there was something eating away at me that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. At any rate, I cooked and ate a piping hot bowl of Quaker Oatmeal with brown sugar,maple syrup and a pad of real butter, washed it down with a hot cup of Green Tea, put a big pinch of chewing tobacco between my cheek and gum and jumped in the Jeep to race out to my hunting blind for another day of Whitetail hunting in “My” Northern Michigan!!!!
    After a 20 min. drive out to Pincherry Rd. and my hunting grounds, there was still that “little something” chewing away at my concience that wasn’t quite giving me stress diahrea, but was bugging me a little bit. I sat in the Jeep for about 15 min. and listened to the ” Bob and Tom Show” trying to figure out what it was that was eating away at me. I honestly couldn’t figure it out and told myself that it couldn’t be that important if I wasn’t able to figure it out in the past 2.5 hrs. I decided it was time to head to the blind, I put on my hunting coat, slid my outer -layer of “snow camo.”, un-zipped the gun case that held my muzzleloader and realized that I neede to load it up after doing all of that shooting at my Dads house yesterday….I removed the gun, leaned it up against the inside of the car door jamb so I could see to pour the pyrodex into the measuring device, opened my “possibles” bag and removed all of the supplies I would need to put a new load in the gun. I poured 90 grains of Pyrodex into the barrell, put the .45 cal. sabot into the muzzle, pushed it in with the ball starter retrieved the Ram-Rod from it’s place adjascent to the barrell and proceeded to push the bullett down to the powder charge….it slid down as nice as a hot knife going through cold butter….but wait a minute!!!!!! There was six inches of ram-rod sticking out of the muzzle of my goddamned gun!!!!!! The sabot was down as far as it could go!!!!!! What the fuck Chuck?!?!?!? ” You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me you dumb cocksucker!!” “No way.” I exclaimed, there was more profanity. I had put an extra load in the gun!!!! It was already loaded from the day before!!!! 
    THEN IT HIT ME!!!! I didn’t need to load my gun after all, I didn’t shoot my gun yesterday, I was shooting my Dads gun!!!! I was thinking all along that I had to put a new load in my muzzleloader….that was the “little something” that was eating away at my concience.”What a fucking IDIOT !!” I told myself. Well….the most obvious is always the obvious,and, I was obviously screwed-blued and tattooed!!!!
    What a great morning in the Whitetail woods too….27º.  A little fog.No wind to speak of. You could have heard a chipmunk fart at around 375 yds. A deaf man could have heard a Whitetail coming from 7 miles away in the crunchy snow, for the temperature reached 45º the day before!!!! What a banner day in the woods!!!!
  

09 Sep ‘06

Saturday, September 9th, 2006
Today’s blog entry is an email I just got from Don Zipp, notorious fisherman, hunter, father, landscaper, bullshitter, and now, head football coach…
HI MIKE!!!!
    I HAVE TURNED A BUNCH OF MISFIT CHARLEVOIXANITE KIDS INTO MY FIRST WIN AS A HEAD COACH !!!!!!
    I HONESTLY CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THOSE 18 KIDS ARE THE SAME 18 LITTLE PUKES THAT MAKE ME SO GODDAMNED MAD AT OUR PRACTICES !!!!! I AM SO DARNED PROUD OF THOSE LITTLE BASTARDS THAT I ACTUALLY SHED A TEAR OF HAPPINES IN FRONT OF THEM TODAY !!!! UNBELIEVEABLE !!!!!!!
    I STARTED OUT BY CALLING AN 18 BOOTLEG AS OUR FIRST PLAY FROM SCRIMMAGE, MY QUARTERBACK, THE ONE AND ONLY CHARLIE HAMILTON, EXECUTED HIS FAKE LIKE Y.A. TITTLE, AROUND THE END HE WENT, 62 YARDS FOR A TOUCHDOWN!!!! THE CROWD WENT BANANAS!!!! THE BOYS WENT NUTS, WE SCORED!!!! BUT IT WAS CALLED BACK BECAUSE OF TWO CLIPPING PENALTIES!!!!! I WAS FURIOUS!!!! I REGAINED MY COMPOSURE AND CALLED A 26 PITCH PASS, FUMBLE ON THE SNAP!!!!!!!! LUCKILY WE RECOVERED….I WAS EXTREMELY PISSED AT THAT POINT!! ONCE AGAIN I RESUMED MY LAID BACK DEMEANOR AND CALLED ANOTHER 26 PITCH PASS…. EVERYTHING THAT I HAVE TAUGHT THOSE KIDS CAME TOGETHER IN WHAT SEEMED LIKE SLOW MOTION….THE SNAP WAS GOOD, THE FAKE TO THE FULLBACK WAS PHENOMINAL, THE PITCH TO THE TAILBACK WAS N.F.L QUALITY, HE TUCKED AND RAN TO THE LINE OF SCRIMAGE AND LAUNCHED A PERFECT SPIRAL THAT WOULD HAVE MADE TERRY BRADSHAW WEAR PANTY-HOSE!!!, THE BALL SHOT THROUGH THE AIR LIKE A MISSLE….RIGHT INTO THE NUMBERS OF NUMBER 11, THOMAS SUTTON,THE FLANKER. MAJESTICLY HE PRANCED INTO THE END-ZONE FOR TOUCHDOWN # 1. I WAS A VERY PROUD COACH. WE FAILED TO GET OUR EXTRA POINT,BUT, IN THE END, VICTORY WAS OURS, NEVER TO BE TAKEN AWAY!!!
    ANY-HEW….WE WON. JUST WANTED TO PASS THAT ALONG!!!!
    THANKS NOSTRODHAMOUS….OH WISE ONE….THANK YOU
Congratulaions Don..