The Pacific Northwest is great for a number of reasons, but foremost for its many opportunities for ripping animals out of the ground, cutting them to pieces while still alive, and then eating them. It's brutal in the way that doesn't bother you because so many other people are doing it.
So, we went digging for Razor Clams (so called because they carry straight razors for self-defence, à la Bad, Bad Leroy Brown). The easiest way to dig for the clams is using a clam gun. The model we used was a 500-calibre job loaned to us by a coworker.
After obtaining the necessary license, and getting to the beach an hour and a half before low tide (which meant we were up at 4:damn:30 in the morning), all that's needed is to scour the beach looking for clam signs.
This is a "show." You might need to click on this picture to enlarge it. The sign is a little dimple in the sand, located in quadrant IV of this picture, at about (1, -2). A little tricky to see, no? At least it was light out and not raining. Our first time we were looking for these things with a Coleman lantern, a case of Black Butte Porter, and a willow divining rod.
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