The Timeless Masterpiece: The NATO Jerry Can

Proper NATO Jerry cans are back, available to all 50 states including the People's Republic of California.  For some time these cans were illegal for all states because of the federal adoption of CARB requirements.  As a result an inferior version of the "Jerry can" were sold.  Thanks to Wavian and their introduction of a CARB compliant spout, the traditional Jerry can is now available.  This does mean each cans bought from now on must include a spout whether or not you already own one and thus increases the price per can $20-$30.  I suppose it's a small price to pay for proper fuel storage.  In days past surplus NATO cans could be had for as low a few bucks; those days are long over.

Not long ago I wrote about the Opinel knife and how it was named by New York Museum of Modern Art as a design masterpiece.  I don't know what criteria MOMA used to judge what constitutes "design masterpiece" but they left out the German Jerry can. It truly made no compromised to either form or function.

Fuel storage containers in some form have been around long before the Jerry can but it was the Germans, specifically an engineer named Vinzenz Grunvogel, who perfected it.  Developed for Blitzkrieg warfare, the Jerry can is truly an ingenious design.  The Jerry can has now become useful for hunters, explorers, offroaders, preppers, and collectors.

Each can is made with two stamped pieces of metal welded together.  Unlike American counterparts with rolled seams, Jerry cans' welds are continuous and where the two pieces of metal met it is recessed ensuring the can will not leak from the welds weakening from constant abuse and impacts from rubbing on the ground or stacking. The recessed gutter also allows the can to expand in changing pressure or hot environments.

To optimize space, the can is designed to be stack-able for easy transport and storage.  The wall sides are flat and reinforced with strengthening ribs that are indented into the steel so not to inhibit stacking.

Another unique feature the three handle design.  Unlike previous fuel containers with single handles, the three handle design allowed more flexibility of carry.  One man can carry each can from the middle handle.   The outer handles made it possible for one to carry two empty cans at a time with one hand or allowed two people to share the weight of a full can.

The lid mechanism is a closed via a cam lever that unlike threaded counterparts do not leak fuel nor do they escape vapors.  When pouring the lid will not fall and impede or interfere with the pour.  Another noteworthy feature is the internal breather that not only prevents gurgling and splashing but increases the speed at which the container can be emptied.  As a safety precaution on most commercial cans a pin prevents accidental openings.

The Jerry can is an iconic and timeless design.  Anyone who ventures away from civilization should own one whether for holding fuel or water.  I own several both fuel and water Jerry cans.  Fuel and water versions have different gaskets and linings.  Water versions have food grade linings and gaskets.

A word of caution for buyers of Jerry cans, beware of imitations.  Very poor imitations.  Most come from China and are not worthy of your hard earned money.  You do not want fuel leaking in your truck, so buy legitimate NATO cans.  One tell tale sign is the recessed gutter and continuous welds (not spot welded).

Not too long ago the US army adopted plastic Scepter cans.  I'm not sure why the went this direction but it maybe the fact that plastic doesn't explode in fire.  Scepter cans are threaded and therefore will leak.  Not only that but in changing barometric pressures the cans can seize up and will require a wrench tool to pry it open.  I have some Scepters as water cans, they are okay but steel NATO cans are superior. 

Went Looking For Wild Trout Only Found These Guys

Lufftwaffe Drilling On Youtube

Trinity

March 5-7, 2015

Spent three days fly fishing the Trinity looking for steelhead. Conditions were less than ideal with hot sunny afternoons, a full moon at night, and being late in the season. We only managed a few dink sized not-quite-steelhead rainbow trout during a March Brown hatch. To add insult to injury mine were all hatchery fish. All the slabs eluded us despite throwing every fly in our boxes. I missed over a dozen takes and lost three that came unglued. What a bummer. Froze our asses at night, sweated balls during the day. I slipped in the river filling my waders with water in the morning when it was 30 degrees. Yeah it was good times. Also came home with a busted shoulder. Trip was a bust.  As a tease on the last day at the last hole a half pounder danced in the air laughing at us as we stared.  With along drive ahead of us we decided it won't be worth fishing only a couple of hours on Sunday.  So we packed up and made a suicide midnight run home driving through the night only to arrive home at 6am.

Oh Yeah Part II

To The Top Of Orange County

Mike and I could care less about the Stupid Bowl and decided to take his boys on their first bumpy road adventure.  Our first attempt through Silverado Canyon was halted as the gate was closed.  I was told the gate at Indian Truck Trail was opened so we headed toward Corona to confirm.

Despite the ease of the trail I kept the rover in 4Lo just so I could control my speed with engine compression rather than using my brakes.  There were some areas that did engage my center and rear lockers though it wasn't that necessary.

The further up you go the more scenic it is.

The view from atop at OC's highest point 5,869' in the air.

Radio towers mostly dominate the area which to some degree takes away from the view.

Typical Mike, he forgot sweaters for the boys and himself so we headed down before sunset.  On the way out we managed some spectacular views.  Catalina Island is in the background.

The kids were panicked to some degree but ultimately muscled through and enjoyed themselves.  All in all not bad for the kids first taste of off roading (though it was hardly off roading).

Oh Yeah.

Albino Browns and Bows

My fishing buddy is now back from exile and we decided to hit up a local to see if any of the "big" fish survived.  The water is low, covered in slit and most fish were dinks to microdinks.  Chul did manage a half way decent fish.  For our first outing of the year, it was a rather dismal showing.  Most of the fish I caught I flung out of the water over my head when I set the hook.  All the fish we did catch were pale, almost albino-like.  Strange.  Last winter Chul regularly saw many fish in the 14 inch range, I guess those did not survive the harsh summer.  Damn this drought.

Alot Of Freezing Ass For No Reason

Earlier this week Jeff invited me once again to hunt his club perhaps for the last time.  He hunted it in the snow New Years Eve and even with 5 inches of snow falling there, he only managed a mallard, teal and a gadwall.  One would have suspected a better outing given all this cold freezing weather.

I awoke just after 3am and readied myself and Kaiser for our 1.5 hour drive only to find out that my battery was dead.  I've been wanting to try my Antigravity Battery for some time and this was the perfect opportunity.  Without a hitch, it jumpstarted my car.

For next two weeks Jeff is assigned one of the blinds in the upper pond, blind 3.  It's a good blind for morning hunts.  Unfortunately since Jeff rarely hunts these blinds and since the pond was regraded he mistakenly had us enter the wrong blind.   Once shooting time commenced we were seeing birds but none were shot.  Most were flying toward blind 3.  After about an hour and a half we left our blind to move to correct blind.  Of course once we got out of the blind a flock of about 20 greenwing teal flew just above the blind we just left.  In blind 3 we managed to get some shots at decent ducks but only came home with an eclipse drake shoveler.  It was 28 degrees by 9am and we froze our asses off.  We decided that was going to be it at the blind and called it a day.  This is likely my last outing at the duck club and it was a poor one.  Not the way I wanted to leave that club.

Snow In Orange County? Yes. Snow In The OC

When I got a call this morning from my buddy Mike that he had snow in his backyard, Kaiser and I had to go check it out.  Yes that is snow in the OC.   It's too bad Mike is recovering from surgery otherwise we would have done a snow run up Santiago Peak.

Kaiser Is Finally On Facebook...

...If you care to befriend him.

Tired Of Turkey

Decided to whip out some of the venison steaks Dave gave me the last time I went up to the Owens.  Served with mash potatoes and mashed peas with a herbed, juniper, star anise and chive sauce.

More Hiking With A Gun

The hiking with a gun series continues but in this case I at least managed to take home a little meat.  After driving around looking for a few huntable fields we stumbled upon a few dove roosting on a tree.  I put a sneak on them and ended up idiotically flock shooting them as they flushed.  Singles and pairs would sporadically come in.  Miss after miss I finally connected with one.  We would drive around about without any success.  We never did see any pheasants.  I did speak with a pair of hunters that did see a rooster earlier in the day but before legal shooting time.  As it sucked I chose to head home and bypass the last day.  That's it for pheasants for this year.

Another Hunter But Seeking A Different Kind Of Game

Hiking With A Gun

This is the last chance to try and get ourselves some pheasants and doves before the season closes.  My intention was on the way here to try and intercept the covey of quail Chul and I flushed while hunting turkey last spring but with the entrance loaded with trucks I decided to bypass that and head straight to the farmlands.  But before that we had stay in cell phone range to receive an important call so we headed for a restaurant for a Persian lunch. 

We arrived at the farmlands with a few hours to roam a few fields,  no pheasants were flushed nor seen.  I managed to flush a dove in a ditch, took a shot and it landed in the nearby field so we gave chase only to have it flush again with me missing him with both shots.  Other than that it was a lot of hiking with a gun.  It was time to head into town for some Thai food and call it a day.

Hoping For A Better Outing

Saturday afternoon I got a call from Jeff telling me how shitting the hunting was at the club.  Shocking, considering how much weather we have gotten.  Jeff theorized even with the rain, it's been a warm rain and it's not pushing the birds.  Despite the poor outing and with his wife away for the weekend, Jeff asked if I wanted to join him for a hunt today.   Without hesitation I agreed with the hopes of getting the bad taste out of my mouth from the past Owens trip.

Sunday hunts are late affairs for Jeff, so I met him around 10:30am.  Again we had the club to ourselves and Jeff expected the ducks to tucked away in the back ponds.  So as we approached our blind we would flush the birds but the plan would be for us not take a shot and would set up and wait for them to return.  After switching blinds, it would be hours before we would see any shootable bird.  The first bird was a lone drake gadwall that came over us, I shot first and missed with both barrels before Jeff nailed him blinding himself in the process.  Last night he sprayed his gun with WD40 as it jammed on him Saturday.  When he shot the oil sprayed all over his face.  After cleaning himself and flushing his eyes he was fine.  More time would pass before we finally had a drake mallard come within range but we both missed it.  Not long after an eclipse drake spoonie came within range and I took it.  Wounded, the duck was on the move, Kaiser and I gave chase.  Kaiser dove into the reeds to dig him out.  We got some flights but none were within range.

Final Day. Bust.

We headed north into higher elevation in search of a better outing than the previous day.  While we did see more birds, they were all located in ponds that were wide open.  Several ponds held 20 Canada geese, another 30 mallards, and another with a mix of divers and puddle ducks. Stalking them for a shot proved difficult.  Desperation lead us to flush the birds out of the ponds, and while they circled back, without any calls or dekes, we skybusted them like idiots.  Normally I wouldn't do this but I figured that since there were no other hunters around it really did no harm other than our wallets and pride.  Later in the day we moved south and managed to pass shoot a few ducks at last light but of course I couldn't hit shit.  The trip was a bust but that's how it goes sometimes.  It was nice to see some winter weather for a change.

Second Day. Hanging In There

Day two wasn't much better than the last.  My usual spots all proved to be duds.  After visiting Dave to say hi, he gave us some venison meat that he harvested this year.  Since he bagged three in so many states, I think he had plenty to spare.  We took off to check some nearby areas.

After we finished lunch, some serious winds hit the valley and so changing to fly fishing was not an option.  It took me forever to find the pond I met Bob two years ago.  It was mostly loaded with coots but did hold a few ruddies and three hen ringnecks.  I dropped the old man off at one edge of the pond and drove to the other end hoping to flush the birds toward him.  When I got to the side the two hens already took flight.  They were borderline too far but I took the shot anyways, missing with both barrels.  It did though turn the birds toward dad and he managed one shot at them but missed as well.

I drove back to pick up dad and we moved to a smaller nearby pond.  There we found some more hens, I wasn't too sure what they were but I believe they were gadwalls.  I told dad to head over to an opening of the reeds and see if he could get a shot from there while I swept over toward the edge.  When I made it there I stepped into the tules and felt the ground slowly give in.  I was sinking to my knees and while I tried to get out I sank even more.  By this time I heard dad take his two shots.  I managed to drag myself out of there by pulling myself with the tules but not before a rush of water entered my waders.  When I got out dad told me he nicked one and the direction of the flight of the birds and it looked like they may have flown to the pond we were just hunting.  So we drove back, while glassing the area I noticed a fair sized covey of quail on the far side running along the bank.  We made our way to them and after switching our bismuth and tungsten rounds for lead, we began our search for them.  I managed to take a jackrabbit in our search.  We eventually saw the covey of thirty flush wild afar.  We gave chase and managed to get them to rise but we missed our shots.  They flushed into a mass of impenetrable tules and we gave up before we ran out of legal shooting time.  Last night we asked the nice Indian owners of the motel we stayed at if the Indian restaurant was any good.  They said it wasn't bad for the area and it was worth a visit so that's what he did.

The East Side For the First Time This Season

Weather is predicted to reach us by the end of the week and with that in mind we decided to hit the river in attempt to jump a few waterfowl.  We had only little more than two hours to work with and while we attempted some old and new areas none could be found.  While heading back to the SUV we did flush a few quail and with No.5 Bismuth I took a few shots at them.  I managed to nail one but even after a gallant attempt to retrieve it we ran out of light before surrendering him to the wild.  The setting sun forced us to town for a French meal where we met a nice couple from Turlock who managed a nice 3x3 Buck earlier today.  Tomorrow we try again.