John A Hallock, Editor


'Bringing the Great Northwoods To You!'

Woodsman's Journal

A Woodsman's Journal
By John A. Hallock, woodsman

(I live in a log house way out in the north woods of northern Wisconsin with my wife Lori and two daughters Kate and Maggie. There is a pack of dogs, two cats, and never a dull moment. We drive 30 miles one way to take the kids to school and do our grocery shopping. I fish and hike and hunt ... a lot. This is an accounting of my time in the woods. I should have started this journal 15 years ago when we built the house as a lot of adventure has passed under my stand already, but then I'm counting, the good Lord willing, on a lot more adventure in the years ahead.)

This is an evolving story. To read it from the beginning scroll down to the bottom first.

2007/2008

October 10, 2008 (Friday)
Overcast, 50 degrees, slight breeze

It’s really just a dress rehearsal, this first bow hunt of the year. But the fact remains ... bow season is FINALLY here. Even though the first hunt of the year is like the first waffle, it’s a throw away. And like I said, this first hunt is really nothing more than practice. At least it is with me, take note ...

It was 3:00 PM when the process began. I removed my newly washed hunting clothes from their air tight plastic container and hang them on hangers from the rafters of our deck above the patio. And every bow hunters knows, you just can’t bring enough clothes along. By the time I was finished the place looked like wash day in the Bronx. Then I gave everything a couple squirts of Dead down wind. That and a couple hours or so of flapping in the breeze would make me scent free. This year I took extra care to remember everything. Nothing left to chance. I was focused.

Once the clothes were hanging out I went out to the driveway to take a couple of practice shots into a target hanging on a couple bales of hay. I’ve had a sore elbow and not shot in over a week. But prior I’d been right ‘on’ from 25 yards.

I stood quietly, bow in hand, and imagined a big buck standing in front of me. I drew back seeing those thick, wide antlers, I could see it stomp a nervous hoof, see the hair bristle along its back, this was it, the moment of truth. Now I tried to concentrate on having everything all lined up, everything straight, the pin, the peep, the kisser button (jeez, it sounds like I’m describing a dirty movie). I tried to make sure my arm was straight and I drew in a breath, I moved the pin in front of the target, paused a instant, then touched the trigger on my shooter. My Matthews sung like Strativarious himself were playing it, the arrow zoomed off the rest and, and ... Missed! Missed! Missed it all, the bull’s-eye, the outer rim, in fact it missed the whole target. Missed! Thank goodness it’s still just a dress rehearsal.

I adjusted my elbow, (a crocked elbow has screwed up more bow shots than buck fever), and my next five shots all hit right ‘on’ again. This is why I always take a couple of shots before I got into the woods. After practice I showered with scent free soap, toweled off with a scent free towel, put on sent free underwear and socks (oxymoron?), then ran outside to finish dressing. I pulled on my hunting pants and shirts, coveralls, and boots. It felt good to be in them again. At that instant nothing else in the world mattered, for the hunt was at hand.

I remembered everything. Hat, extra sweatshirt, hunting jacket with hunting tag hanging on the back, doe call can, grunt call, flashlight and bottle of water. I usually forget the flashlight and water on the first two or three hunts. But not this year. This year was the year of the big buck. The year I would concentrate like never before in an effort to become, forever, the buck hunter. Buck hunting is as much a mental game as a physical one. I had to be right in the mind, thinking sharp. But I was ready. I would leave nothing to chance, I would be an experienced woodsman and buck hunter on the move, in the woods, big bucks take heed. the woodsman is among you again.

It wasn’t until I was packed up and on my way to the stand and a good way down our deep woods driveway that I realized I had forgotten something after all. My BOW! Yes. I couldn’t believe it myself. I remembered absolutely everything that I would possible need to make my hunt successful and comfortable except the darn bow. Sheesh, it’s a good thing it’s really only dress rehearsal.

With a lowered head I looked around to make sure no one had seen me. But then who could see? I live way back in the woods. There are times when there is no one here but me, Lori and a pack of dogs. But you guessed it, she saw. She sees everything, she knows everything. It’s scary.

When I returned for the bow she met me at the door and said, “when I saw you leave without the bow I thought maybe this year you were going to jump down out of your stand and jump on top of the deer with your knife between your teeth.” Then she winked. I wonder what she meant by that? That’s right. She has long legs, a warm smile and no sense of humor. I am hunter, see me blush.

I retrieved the bow and finally made it out in the woods to my stand behind the house. It only took a trip and a half to make it all the way out without forgetting anything else. That’s not too bad for a first hunt. I put down my stuff and began to get organized before climbing into my 16 foot ladder stand. That’s when I noticed a glove. That’s right, a glove, as in ‘not a pair’ of gloves. There is suppose to be a pair but one was missing.

“Shoot!”

So much for sneaking in. Even though, it was probably warm enough to sit a couple hours without a glove. But then I couldn’t imagine my glove, one of my favorite hunting gloves, laying along the trail or driveway for some crazy, little red squirrel to find and steal. A couple of years ago one of the little buggers dragged one of my hunting T shirts all the way across the yard. Another few feet and he’d have been hauling it up the tree. And now I had to go back and find the glove. I did find it too, on the table all the way back on my patio where I got dressed. It must have been there all along. I just missed it. I mean, it’s a lot smaller than the bow.

So if you’re keeping score, that is now two and a half trips from the house to the stand. Now I was really sweating. Hot! So hot I figured I wouldn’t need the extra sweatshirt and left it off. Big mistake. Or should I say Brrrrr mistake? How soon we forget. It gets right cold when the sun begins to fall behind the trees.

It was a typical first hunt. I forgot a bunch of stuff and I didn’t see anything. It was a cool, quiet afternoon. No birds, no squirrels, and mostly, No deer! That happens every once in a while. It was glad to get it out of my system early. After all, it’s only dress rehearsal.

Be huntin’, be shootin’!

Tuesday, April 22, 2008 Windy, Partly Cloudy, 52 degrees

A Great Recipe

Spring has sprung. Last weeks heavy snow is long gone. It was 75 degrees yesterday. Not as warm today but warm enough that I can sit on the deck and watch the ice go off the lake. Last night's warm rain and today's big winds are opening the lake like a can opener. There are long narrow streams of water cutting across the black ice. I wonder what it looks and feels like from below the surface? Are the bluegills getting as ready for me as I am for them? Do crappies know how good they taste dipped in egg and rolled in flour and breading and pan fried to a golden brown? That settles it. I'm heading to Sportsman's Headquarters in Minong to buy some pan fish lures for my ultra light spinning rod. Besides, John will have a good joke or two to tell. These are just a few of the many thoughts of early spring time.

Well, the decision is final, I'm getting a woodstove and I'm going to heat my house starting next fall with wood as much as I can. Those greedy bastards in Washington have me running scared. That's what happens when you elect an oil man president who you'd like to drink a beer with, you get an oil man who you'd like to drink a beer with and sky rocketing fuel prices, and least we forget, the price of beer is going up too. How high can these staples of life go before January 09? So much for serve and protect.

Anyway, the cost of propane is almost $2.50 a gallon. I guy could go broke just trying to stay warm. Seeing how this is their last year in Washington there is no telling how hard they will bleed us before they're gone. What if propane goes $5.00 a gallon next fall? Or higher? Not me! I live in the woods. It's time to get off and on. Just another reason to be out in the woods. I've cut, hauled, split and stacked for three days now. I've got a couple of good stacks going already. And even though I've got sore muscles where I don't remember having muscles it's really cool being out in the woods harvesting heat. The whispering pines over head, the smell of fresh cut oak burning in my nose, sweat pouring down my fore head. I never felt so alive as when I'm cutting wood in the woods by myself.

Besides heating the house next winter, cutting wood serves another purpose. It's great exercise. Add a few years to my life for a change. When you think about it, wood cutting and crappies, now there's a great recipe.

Friday April 11, 2008 32 degrees, overcast and then some.

Let It Snow ... Again

Snow! Lots of snow. As much as we've gotten at one time since December, 7 or 8 inches of wet heavy snow on our deck when I went out at dawn. No school today. Everyone else is sleeping in. It's still snowing. The birds stayed late last night before the snow. They crowded the feeders and spread out beneath them picking at fallen seeds. They were back early this morning. I shoveled the deck, (actually I just pushed the snow off, there was no picking up this stuff known as heart attack snow), and filled the feeder with sunflower seeds.

I noticed one of the sapling apple trees in my yard was hanging with ice and snow. I was afraid of this. I brushed it off and knew I'd have to go brush off all the trees we have planted throughout the family 25 acres. I figured they were probably all hanging low.

I started the apple tree rounds about 8:00 a.m. I moved past my dad's cabin and uncovered the four trees there. It's hard to say for sure, but I think they appreciated it. From there I hiked up the snow covered driveway. Nearly a foot of heavy, wet snow makes me realize how out of shape I got over the winter. I figure there was still a good inch of Christmas cookies on my belly.

There wasn't much moving in the woods. I saw a few squirrel tracks in the snow between trees. It's breeding season (again) for the squirrels and you rarely see just one set of squirrel tracks as the males are chasing every female they can find. It's kind of like closing time at a night club, or so I've heard. Once I got up higher on the ridge I came across turkey tracks. Like I've said before it won't be long before these prolific breeders will fill the woods like pigeons fill a city park. As far as I'm concerned there are too many already. No deer, no deer tracks in snow.

It took more than an hour to make it up and down the hills to uncover all the apple trees. Every tree was doing okay but the one dead one from last year's drought was another story. A big oak top snapped off and fell on top the dead one. Killed the little fence around it too.

I took photos of my stands. They look so lonely this time of year. For 3 or 4 months in the fall I sit in these stands almost every day. Some days the autumn wind, a north wind, blasts through he woods. The trees sway and, some of the older ones groan, while the stand moves with the tree and creaks like my old bones do. I ride it out in my stand waiting for a buck to show up in the storm like a sailor riding the waves in search of the great whale. But that is all for another time. Now is spiring not fall ... let it snow, anyway.

Thursday April 10, 2008 30 degrees at dawn. Cloudy

Wishful Thinking

By afternoon the wind was roaring through the pines with an out of control bluster, with enough force to snap of limbs and tree tops. My neighbors took a jackpine shot the roof. The shingles held, the gutter didn't. Hold on, Old Man Winter is making a last assault. At least I hope it's the last one, he can be resilient. The weather guys are saying there is a blizzard on the way tonight and tomorrow.

The woods seems all the more wild and mysterious right before a big storm. But for some reason that's when I want to be out there the most. I went out into the woods around 2:00 p.m. to check the permanent tree stands and buds on the apple trees. Though, nothing really needed checking. I just needed a reason to get out into it.

The trees all survived the long, cold winter, so far. Heavy snow could break them though. I didn't realize it was raining until I noticed my sweatshirt was getting wet. It was more of a mist than a rain or snow. It was just dying to freeze, but the temperature is still hanging around 33 or 34 degrees. I have a feeling this is just the beginning.

I didn't see any deer but I did find lots of sign. There were squirrels and birds scurrying about, storing up on food before the snow came. I climbed up into the stand and looked out at the woods like I've done thousands of times. It's always good to be in the stand out in the woods. I sat quietly for just a few minutes before the gusty wind swirled through the tree tops and rocked the stand. I climbed down the ladder and looked back up at the empty chair. Only 5 months and change until bow season. That's less than half a year. Ah, keep a good thought.

This time of year reminds me of fall. The woods are naked but for the pines. No leaves. No snow, for now. It's in the 20s, 30s, and 40s, the air is damp and chilly. I close my eyes and listen to the wind, feel the bite of cold on my nose. I can imagine that big buck with an 8 point rack, thick beams, long tines, and a swollen neck. He comes busting through the brush looking for trouble, looking for me! It smells like fall today. Maybe it's all that snow on the way. Yeah, that's it. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.

March 7, 2008
COOOLLDD Again! It was -18, that's below zero, at sunup. Clear, blue sky, light wind.

It Scares Me Too

Spring is just around the corner, I can feel it in my bones, or maybe that's just how far this winter's chill goes, all the way to the bone.

Well the numbers are in, deer hunters in Wisconsin harvested more than half a million deer in 2007. It was us bow hunters who put the numbers over 500,000. It was the second record bow kill in a row. It was the third largest deer harvest in Wisconsin history. Deer hunting and the herd have never been healthier.

This, of course, is just further proof that using bait for deer, even the small amount of a couple gallons, is good for the deer, deer hunting, and deer hunters. (Though I don't think a 5 gallon limit would hurt anything.) In fact, I've said it before, baiting is the most effective deer management tool ... EVER! To say otherwise flies in the face of facts. Let's compare last years numbers to 2002 when the Wisconsin DNR subscribed to the "Chicken Little" deer management philosophy with Chronic Wasting Disease, and managed to temporarily ban feeding and baiting deer. In 2002 the bow kill was a little over 54,000 deer, while last year 2007 the total bow kill will be over 115,000. A dramatic difference.

Here's what we need to look at before we even talk about banning baiting in the north woods. CWD is not spreading, in fact, like I said, the deer herd has never been larger or healthier, except in places where the DNR is running wolf packs whose numbers are mushrooming.

It's time to put the deer baiting issue to rest once and for all. If the DNR manage to go against facts and tens of thousands of hunter's wishes and traditions and get baiting banned again, I'm sure it would be a program and policy built on fear and threat of arrest, it would be the single worse deer management decision yet. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, their cure is worse than their disease. It scares me, too.

March 6, 2008
It was minus 12, as in below zero, when I got up at 5:00 am. It warmed up to 6 or 7 below at sunrise but then got breezy. Blue sky.

Dogs And Coyotes Don't Mix

Last winter I don't remember plugging my car in more than a half dozen times. I only plug in the block heater if the temperature is below zero when I get up in the morning. But this year is much different. This winter I stopped counting below zero mornings when we hit 30 and that was a couple of weeks ago. I'm thinking about adding a wood heater to my heating arsenal. Suddenly all that dead and down oak out in the woods has a different look to it.

The cold takes its toll on outside activities. It's not that I'm not use to being out in this kind of weather. Below zero is a fact of life in winter in the great north woods. I've cut firewood at 30 below and sat in tree stands with my bow at 20 below. I've sat on the ice jigging for crappies at 25 below with my back to the wind. When my daughters were younger we'd be out in the snow and cold almost everyday. So it's not that I'm not use to it, it's more that by March I'm sick of it. Sick and tired and longing for warmer weather and I'll take a few mosquitoes with it if I have to.

I found out what was luring my young dogs out of the yard. A dead deer out by the road. Must have been hit by a car. It's something that doesn't happen that often as we live on a backwoods gravel road. There is very little traffic. Consequently, the deer use the road like a trail and about once year somebody driving way to fast clips an unsuspecting deer. Lucky the coyotes and crows got most of this dead deer before the dogs found it. It's a good thing too as dogs and coyotes don't mix

February 23, 2008
Warmer, 29 degrees out here in the big woods, gentle breeze with slight nip to it, partly cloudy.

It's Good To Be A Woodsman
That rumbling sound you hear running through the woods is not thunder, it's not a pickup truck with a bad muffler moving down a logging trail, and it's not machinery from the countless logging operations our county deforester has set upon these woods. No, it's none of those noise makers, it's my stomach rumbling because I'm busting a gut with Cabin Fever.
It was cold all week, 22 below zero or lower three nights and well below zero another two or three days. I can't really keep track of how many days anymore. It stayed cold all day long all week long. And though today started at 4 below this morning it rose quickly after sun up. I'm going into the woods.
I take but 30 or 40 steps out my back door and disappear into a black and white (with a splash of green) winter woods. The whispers are there, so are many tracks in the snow. Deer and turkey tracks mostly, but also coyote, cat (feral cats), and even, close to the house, dog tracks. My two year old springers wander once in a while. My brother Bill, who lives next door to us, has a pup from the same litter. It's his dog who leads my two pups away. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Besides, his pup is a little brother too. It's always the little brother's fault. I mean, I think it might even be some kind of rule.
When you haven't been out in it for a while it's easy to forget the wonders of the big woods. It's not just a hike but an experience. There are deer beds, saucer shaped impressions melted down into the four or five inches of snow. They are close to the house in spite of the occasional wandering pup. In fact, there are several deer beds. Most of them are a couple of feet across and clustered together. But then there is one bed off by itself several yards away from the others. It is twice the size of the others. A buck? I hope that's what it was, the thought of a big buck running through these woods, mine and my brother's stomping grounds, helps me get through winter, spring, and summer until the good season finally arrives. Bow season. Of course the size of this separate deer bed doesn't necessarily mean it's a big buck. I've seen lots of big does over the years. I just 'hope' it's a big buck and most bow hunters eat, sleep, and drink 'hope' when it comes to buck hunting.
Deer trails crisscross the property. No sheds yet. But the trails verify the placement of several ladder stands. I try to hunt them all at least once a season though I have my favorites. The woods are quiet, oh so silent, breached occasionally by the pines, who in reverence to the wilderness silence, whisper down their welcome to me. A woodsman is at home among the pines.
That's when I hear crunching snow and look up to see white flags moving away from me through the bare trees. I move up the trail to find their beds, too. The deer didn't go far. They moved around the little swamp and I watched them, five of them, bed down again in the thick brush on the opposite side. Locals, I thought.
I turned and moved away from the deer as they made it through a real cold week too. I let them rest. A big, black raven cawed in the blue sky above the tree tops. The raucous scream echoed out across the forest. I got the impression the sinister sounding bird was mocking me. "Where were you, Woodsman, during the cold time?"
I wasn't going to take that from this bird. I mean it's not like its an eagle or hawk.
"I was right here, too," I hollered back. "Plugging in cars at 5:00 a.m. (You have no idea how cold 22 below zero is at five in the morning wearing your slippers.) I was here adding sweatshirts and hoods to my ad selling clothes. I was here feeding birds and squirrels. I was here shoveling snow. I was here, chasing off icefishermen who use my yard to pee in. I was here."
"Yeah, sure," the raven caws down again. "Cry me a river. Cry me a frozen river."
Then the bird flies off. That's the way it is with ravens and crows It's an antagonistic relationship. I got no use for them and they have none for me, though I'm not sure why. And they always get the last word.
I didn't go too far, across the road, over the ridge and down the other side toward part of Big Dismal Swamp. That's when a flock of blue jays come out of the pine tops. Everyone is out on nice day like today. The blue jays don't mock like the crows and ravens. They are more the teasers.
"Nay, nay, na, nay, nay! We can fly and you can't. Nay, nay, na, nay, nay!"
But then I know it's not just me with the blue jays. I've seen them teasing other hunters, and deer, and even squirrels the same way."
This part of Big Dismal is always good for finding an old deer kill. The birds and coyotes have scattered the bones all winter. Where do these dead deer come from in the first place? Well, some come from wolves and coyotes who also hunt Big Dismal. But many, over the last few years anyway, come from bow shot deer the greenhorns, who use a backwoods deer shack to hunt out of on weekends and during the rut, shoot but don't recover. Their philosophy seems to be, if it's brown it's down, does, fawns, button bucks, it doesn't matter. If the deer is only wounded and runs off these lazy assholes wouldn't know a blood trail from a snail trail. The only good here is the scavengers eat well around the greenhorn's cabin.
This year is no different and I find the bones near the swamp edge. No horns. I don't go much farther atop the frozen snow among the tamaracks when my knee begins to ache. It's time to head for home. I don't want to over do it on my first late winter/early spring hike. The raven is back overhead.
"Talk about Greenhorns," the black bird caws down like it was reading my mind. Then it flies off cackling smugly all the way.
It doesn't take long to make it home. I'm tired, but oh so refreshed. Hiking the big woods. It don't get no better and it never will. I've said it before ...
"It's good to be a woodsman."

February 13, Wednesday, Cloudy, Snow 4 inches, Cold 10 degrees.

Bundle Up and Go Fishing
I'm still spending quite a bit of time in the house. It's been a cold winter. I know there have been colder season, I've lived through them. But just the same we've had several nights of 20 below or colder. They are calling for 20 below a couple nights at the end of this week. There have also been many days when the temperature stayed below or at zero all day long. Real sunny and real cold. I'll spend about $3500. in propane this winter. And even though we got snow last night there hasn't been too much of that in the last month and a half. I can't see describing this winter as anyway but cold! Except maybe ... costly!
That's not the way the weather was earlier in the season. We received good snow and it was warmer, warm enough to keep a layer of slush six inches deep on the lake ice. It has not been a good year for ice fishing and I haven't gotten out for one reason or another.
Of course, now the cold weather has made for pretty good ice. I mean I've fished in cold weather before, it can be pretty productive. No Sir the reason I'm not ice fishing now is my brother Bill's fault. Yep, my gas auger is on the fritz and my brother won't go out and hand drill the holes for me.
Pat McManus, that great writer of short stories and humorist, said everyone needs an old man as a fishing and hunting partner, that you can learn a lot from an old man. Well that might be true, but I say get a little brother for your hunting and fishing partner, they do a lot.
Well, at least he used to do a lot. But now with only 2 or 3 feet of ice on the lake he won't go out and drill a couple dozen ice holes for me. I mean, he can use a couple of them too, (when I'm not using them). He'd have knock off early though, to start filleting the fish. Of course none of this happens until he starts drilling holes. Little brothers can be selfish at times, that just comes with the little brother territory.
I went hiking in the woods last week between arctic blasts. I think it was about 15 degrees and it actually felt a little balmy. The snow in the woods is deeper than it looks, it always is, and I was just heavy enough to break through the hard crust and fall into the deep snow. It really makes hiking tough.
I was checking out the apple trees in my brother Jim's little orchards he is planting on the property. He doesn't live here on the ridge like me and Bill. It's a good thing too, because I'm his little brother and I'd be the one out drilling ice fishing holes. The apple trees are all doing well in spite of the deep cold. Deer are very scarce this time of year. But you know they are here, are very close because many a night I hear the wolves. Every evening I go outside after dark and some nights I hear the wolves howl, other nights it's the yipping of coyotes. The two groups don't socialize with each other but they both eat deer faster than human hunter with multiple deer tags.
Once the weather breaks and it gets a little warmer I plan to hike the woods often. I love being out in the spring woods. I used to take one or two dogs with me. But I'm having second thoughts about this practise because of the large number of wolves in the area. I've seen several wolves and many tracks over the last few years. I'd hate to wander the dogs too close to a wolf.
Shed season will soon be here in the big woods. I can hardly wait. Until then, bundle up and go fishing.

Saturday/Sunday December 29/30, 24 or 25 degrees both days, Flurries, Virtually no breeze.

Neither Was The Doe
Bow season is quickly coming to an end. Only 8 1/2 months until Opening Day next year. Just one week left this year but I don't want to wait until the last minute. Besides I want to start ice fishing some and I'm not good at sport season overlap. I don't ice fish during bow season. That's because if I do, the whole time I'm on the ice I'm thinking I should be in the woods, and the whole time I'm in the woods I'm craving blue gills fried to a golden brown. I love it when the skin is crisp and the meat is a flaky white with the most delicate taste this side of walleye. But I digress and I don't over lap seasons.
I got in my stand Saturday in late afternoon around 3:00 p.m. The deer are moving late this time of year. I see a few right away. The woods are full of snow. They show up well. I'm in my white camo so I figure I'm invisible to any passing deer, and I am. At least I am until I move my bow. It is not in white camo. It is a dark color to blend nice with the fall woods. The instant I move the bow the deer see me and the flags go up.
I drew back a couple of times on passing deer and both times I was busted before I could get the bow string all he way back. But then just before quitting time two deer came past. The first one saw me and ran, the second didn't and I had some venison. A nice doe. One doe tag down, and one to go.
On Sunday I was back to the same stand and at 3:00 p.m. again. I hoped this would be my last day of the 2007 hunt. It was already a great year. I took one nice eight point buck and one doe so far. I wanted one more doe, for meat and herd control. I wanted a large, mature doe if I could get one.
I wasn't in my stand a half hour when a nice doe came past. She was nervous and alone. I didn't dare make any fast moves. This was my deer. Then I noticed something, or more like, I didn't notice something ... a tail. This deer didn't have a tail. What happened to it? Shot off? More likely it was bitten off. She stopped some 30 yards out and turned to look at a passing snowmobile on the road some 200 yards away. I took the opportunity to draw back and I had my second doe in as many days.
It was a good shot and she went down right away, but then got up and ran off through the woods. I waited an hour before me and my brother Bill began to track her. And even though there wasn't a whole lot of rich, red blood showing up on the white snow I knew she couldn't have gone far. Bill found half my arrow right away and we tracked her across the road and into the woods again. We found her laying another 100 yards into the woods. She went a lot farther than she should have, it was a double lung shot. She was one healthy, strong deer.
All the hair was gone from her tail. She just had a naked little stub where the big, fluffy white tail used to be. There was also a big hunk of meat bitten out of one of her hind legs. Wolves!
The doe lives in the swamp across the road and apparently so do the wolves. Some people think the wolves do a service. They help keep the herd in check and prey on the weak and sick. But that sure wasn't the case here. Wolves were preying on a full grown, strong, and I dare say, savvy white tail doe. Strong enough to get away from a pack of wolves and that's not easy. But where were her fawns? This tells me there either aren't as many deer as the DNR says there are, and the packs have to hunt healthy and mature deer, or there are a lot more wolves than the DNR say there are. I would suspect it's probably a little of both. But if wolves are running down healthy does what are they doing to big bucks tired and weakened after the rut, or fawns? The nurturing of wolf packs in a recreational area is an accident waiting to happen. Will 2008 be the first year a wolf attacks a human? I hope it's not my family, or neighbors, or me. I'm always out in the woods. Of course I'm not tired or weak, but then, neither was the doe.

December 12, Cold, 4 degrees at Dawn, 24 degrees by afternoon

It's Good To Be A Woodsman
I haven't hunted in more than a week now. I'm trying to catch up with work, which is a great excuse. It's been awful cold, 20 below zero a couple of nights. Some days it doesn't get out of single digits even during the day. The wind blows through the woods like an out of control freight train. I have, however, been in the woods. The deer aren't moving.
I figured it was just the season, the weather causing the deer to be so suddenly scarce. But then on his way home from work a few nights ago my brother Bill saw a pack of wolves cross the road in front of his truck. There were seven in all and they were within a half mile of home. Talk to any deer hunter who has experienced wolves and wolf sightings in their hunting area. They'll tell you the deer are gone, holding tight probably, for two or three days after the pack has come through.
Like I said, it's been over a week since I've been hunting and I'm getting the urge again. I'll have to get a little practice in with the bow. I'm confident I'll take a doe or two or three. I can taste those tender backstraps frying up in butter and onions, mushrooms too, if I'm lucky. Add some wild rice and a couple slices of homemade bread with butter and honey and you have a meal to savor, to remember. I meal worth sitting in a cold woods. It's good to be a woodsman.

December 4 and 5, Snowy, Cold 20 degrees for a high, windy

Think Snow
The black powder season ended the way it began, quiet. No big bucks and the does were laying low, too. I think it's a good idea to have a black powder season but I think sticking it at the end of rifle season is like saying diet ice cream tastes as good as real ice cream. Nobody buys it. People, hunters just aren't going to participate in a late gun season of any kind. The Wisconsin DNR knows this, but it's like the baiting issue. They really aren't interested in doing right, only being right. Their priority doesn't seem to be to actually manage the deer herd and work with hunters, who are vital to the management process, but to go out of their way to alienate sportsmen. Feeding and baiting deer by the public in the north woods of Wisconsin has been one of the most productive and popular deer manage programs ever. The deer herd has never been bigger or healthier in my neck of the woods, the sport of deer hunting, especially bow hunting, has mushroomed in popularity thanks to feeding and baiting, feeding and baiting is good for local businesses and economy. So of course, the DNR is against it. They tried the Chicken Little approach with CWD in an effort to outlaw baiting and feeding, and when that didn't work they changed to the tuberculosis scare. What's next, kennel cough, moulting disease, mange? And, of course, the Natural Resources Board falls in right behind the DNR. The first one lies and the second one swears to it. Sportsmen beware, and hold tight to your rights, the most dangerous creature in our woods wear shinny green pants and answer to Madison some 300 miles away. But the truth be told, the DNR needs hunters, hunters do not need the DNR.
The DNR have been trying to extend the rifle season for years. So now they've done it. Stick a 10 day black powder season on the end of rifle season and then a four day does only hunt after that and they get their way. But like I said few people ever show up for late gun hunts and few ever will. It's cold, it's dark, and they've just hunted for ten days in a row. I'm lucky, I'm in the business and I live right in the woods, but who else has the time to hunt that long and whose going to give up the rifle season to hunt a late black powder season? Certainly not enough hunters to make it effective or worthwhile. The black powder season should be a season unto itself. It should offer its own buck and doe tags. It should come earlier, when the weather is nicer and people might actually take a weekend and maybe a day or two from work to hunt it. Put it the first week in October. There is no interference with bear season simply because the DNR seems to have quit selling bear kill permits in the north woods. In this time slot black powder won't interfere with bow hunting the rut, or the rifle season, and die hard bow hunters could get back to the woods the day after the rifle season and not compete with the few black powder hunters and blaze orange. More people would participate in an early black powder season. More people would buy black powder rifles and equipment locally like they do bows and rifles. More does would be taken. It would actually accomplish something, not like the sorry excuse for a black powder season of today.
I did see a big buck on December 6, the day after the black powder season ended. It was chasing a doe like it was November. I'm disappointed I didn't get a chance at it but the calender was against me, though I'm optimistic the buck will be back bigger next year. I still plan to take a couple of does with my bow. It's been well below zero several nights now.
Heavy snow and high winds kept me in on Tuesday and I ended up working late on the 5th. Did you ever notice how working for a living breaks up your day.
I am looking forward to the late bow season for does. I figure I can use the meat and the practice for that 175 inch rack I'll be looking for next fall.
This early snow will be great for local business. But I hope the temp. comes up some soon. Sitting in below zero weather isn't fun but 25 degree above zero in the winter woods ain't too bad. It's quiet and when the temps are at normal this time of year the deer begin to move again. I hunt food sources and trails leading to them. I have cameras out across the property and I hope for some interesting winter shots. I'll publish them here. In the mean time, it's winter ... think snow.

December 3, Cold, 12 degrees, Cloudy and a few flurries.

Like Sands In An Hour Glass
It was early afternoon and almost time to take my hunting clothes out of their plastic, air tight containers and hang them in the breeze on our patio, for at least an hour, before I go to my stand. But the fire is dancing in the fireplace, I'm sitting in my chair with my feet up, and covered by a hand crocheted blanket.
I have to figure of, "all the places, in all the world" this place, where I'm sitting in my own log house in the middle of the north woods is the best place. And right now I'm thinking its even better than my tree stand. I've only got three days left to get another big buck, though it's been a long time since I've seen any buck but that spork who's still chasing does, bless him for his great effort. I can't believe those 4 or 5 spikes I saw before the gun season are all gone. One of them only had one antler. But for today, hunt time approaches.
And hunting is what I ended up doing. Three days of season left to take a big buck over shadowed the cold. I mean, if I didn't go out today when I had the chance and the weather I should give up my "buck hunters" card.
The deer were not moving and I only saw a doe or two. I feel the season slipping away like sands in an hour glass.

December 2, Cold 24 degrees, Partly Cloudy, Breezy

Enchanted Forest
The storm passed in the night. Lori measured 7 1/2 inches of snow on our deck this morning. I was hoping for a foot, but this is a great start. Besides, the big bucks weren't moving before the storm, or during the storm, they would surely be out today. They had to be, didn't they?
Not! No bucks. The woods have been so quiet these past few days. You'd never know it was a weekend. And that's how it has always been in this neck of the woods. Our little sand road has its share of traffic, for just being a back woods sand trail, and quite a bit of traffic right before and during the deer season. But as soon as the rifle season is over the woods empties out of all visitors and it's just us few locals and neighbors, and a whole bunch of dogs. All you hear out in the woods is the beautiful sounds of wind in the pines and the cackling caws of the crows. Winter is cold around here, but there are a some things the freezing season has going for it. No bugs, no tourists, and like I said, no traffic. It's a most beautiful time with heavy white snow covering the pines like thick icing on a Christmas Cake.
I spent a quiet afternoon in this truly enchanted forest.

December 1, Cold 18 degrees, Snow

Snow ... White Gold
Snow! Holy Hawken. I can't remember a snow storm this early in 10 years. They're calling for 8 - 10 inches and a two day storm. Conventional wisdom says the bucks will lay down in the pines or other thick cover and wait out the storm. But then I haven't been seeing them when I'm suppose to be seeing them, maybe I'll see one moving around in the middle of a snow storm when it's not suppose to be up and about.
I made it out two hours before dark and sat in the snow and even a little freezing rain. I saw a few does and that same little buck, actually he's a, "spork", a spike on one side and a fork on the other. He was chasing does in the snow.
Like I said, it is so good to see this early snow. It's so good for our local economy here in northern Wisconsin. It brings winter tourists and raises every income throughout the region. I guess I didn't mind not seeing a big buck all day and getting wet through and through in the process. Though, I kept picturing a buck with a thick, wide rack moving slowly toward me through curtain of falling snow. I kept Hawk, my black powder rifle, covered with a towel, though it was a soaking storm and the rifle was as wet as I was. I can tell you right now, wet and cold don't mix well, when you add a blustery wind the misery index falls to below zero. But hunting in the heavy snow was an adventure just the same. And it was snow, white gold in this neck of the woods.

Sunday November 25, Warmer today, 40s at 2:00 p.m.. Sunny, windy (what else is new?)

The Party Is Over
Happy Birthday Mom. It's the last day of the season. I always hate to see it go, it's like watching an old friend, or the last flock of geese leave for the winter. Though, it will be good to be out of the orange. I've always tried to stay hidden, to blend in with the woods. I hate the orange. Of course I'm sure I'd hate being shot even more. And there were those three men I knew who did get shot. Though, everyone of them was wearing blaze orange at the time of their death.
I saw a lot of deer, no bucks today. But Bill said he saw a six pointer. You see, they are coming out. I knew it. The woods are real quiet, hunter-wise. I guess all that traffic yesterday was everyone leaving. It's good to already be home.
It was a good season in that I got out everyday. To be alone in the woods, among the spirits of hunters and bucks from by-gone-days, everyday is to be a Very fortunate man (note the capital V). I am thankful for another season, another great adventure, and a wife who supports me in these great adventures. I've always said, "I'm just a meat and potatoes writer with a wife who really cooks."
Now, I have to decide if I want to keep hunting a buck for a week with my black powder rifle. That's what I'll probably do. I've never used it. If I go I will sight it in and practice in our driveway and shoot into a high sandbank. Or should I start filling doe tags with my bow. Either way, as the rifle season goes ... the party is over.

Saturday Nov 24, Cold, 30s, Sunny with a few clouds

A Real Horatio Alger Story
Well, it's just one of those years. No hunters, or darn few. And even though there haven't been a lot of shots there has been a lot of traffic on the road today.
Does and fawns, just a few, a spike buck passed me near dusk and he was chasing a doe. The rut is still on, or is it the second rut? It's a little to early for that. Just my luck, the big bucks will come out again in two days when Bill is still trying to fill a buck tag with his black powder rifle, while Lori is making me go back to work tomorrow. Pitching ads for our print magazine. Hey would it be great if some big publisher or producer saw my stories here on the site and I got discovered. Do you know one of these people? Show them my stuff here on the site. If they buy it I'll make it worth your effort and I'll take you bow hunting. Can you say bucks? It would be a real Horatio Alger Story.

Friday November 23, Cold again, 30s day time, teens at night.

Bundle Up
Still quiet in the woods. Usually the army of orange is back this day and running drives all over the place. But they haven't come back this year. Is the lack of bucks and price of gas keeping people from coming back to the woods after Thanksgiving? Whatever the reason, they aren't here, at least not yet.
The does and fawns are moving again. No bucks. They're laying down in swamps and across the river into the No Man's Land of Big Dismal Swamp.
Amongst a jumble of thousands of fleeting thoughts I have while sitting on stand I realized that over the last 20 years or so I've known, been acquainted with, three guys who have been shot and killed during deer season. One was shot by an insane man killing people in the woods a few years ago, one was killed by teenager while walking to his stand in the dark one opening morning many years ago, and another also killed by an errant shot on Opening Morning a few years ago. It really makes you think that but for the grace of God it could be me.
The lake is freezing over at night. Soon we will be looking for slabs and hearing the booming echo of the lake spirits trying to escape the ice cover. Ah, Winter, it is lurking so close you can feel its icy stare. Bundle Up.

Thursday Nov 22, Thanksgiving, Sunny, Cold, 20s, gusty winds

As It Should Be
Not a lot of hunters, between the holiday and the Packers game me and Bill were the only ones hunting in this neck of the woods. The deer seemed to be celebrating the holiday too, as they stayed home most of the day. I saw a few, but just a few all day. No bucks. I hunt a lot on this holiday as I can't write about the Thanksgiving Buck unless I get one on this day. But truth be told this day is always a sort of benchmark for me as far as the gun season goes. It marks the beginning of the end. You wait all year and the next thing you know it's Thanksgiving and you haven't got one yet.
It was cold, though I'm still wearing only one pair of gloves, my fingers were real cold. But it doesn't matter how cold I get on this day. I know that exactly 15 minutes after I've climbed out of this stand at dark I'll be digging into a Thanksgiving dinner mounded so high on my plate I'll need a shovel to dig through it. Lori will have to help me to my easy chair when I'm done. Talk about comfort food. This meal, with my wife Lori and our daughters, Kate (home from college at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, MN) and Maggie (home from her boy friends and the hectic schedule of a 15 year old), my brother Bill, and friends is the very best part of the day ... as it should be.

Wednesday, November 21, overcast skies, 30s, gusty winds.

A Woodsman Never Cries Wolf
My dad use to have a saying that went something like, 'Smarty, Smarty had a party, and no one showed but Smarty, Smarty.' On certain days this could be the motto of deer hunters. I didn't see many deer today and none until almost four o'clock. I'm running out of daylight ... and hunting season.
I saw only does and fawns. There are not enough deer in general, not enough deer hunters, and not enough bucks, let alone big bucks. Deer season isn't the same these days. About all you see, when you do see something, are does. I did have one great thrill just a few minutes before shooting time was over. I saw a large, dark deer moving toward me through the woods. It's head was down. It was in thick brush.
'This is it!' I said.
Of course I was thinking about a story book finish here. Sort of like all the hunting shows a TV. You know the ones where the giant buck shows up the last minute of the last day of the last hunt ... until tomorrow where they hunt somewhere else. Don't get me wrong, I love those shows and I learn a lot by watching them. But I think the ending can sometimes be a little dramatic. But then here I was in real life and living a dramatic ending. I began to breath real fast and my heart was pounding. I knew where my shooting lane was located and as the deer approached and stepped out of the brush I raised my rifle and put the scope on the ... doe. Big doe. I'm not shooting does yet. A great ending to the day anyway.
It is on slow hunts like this one today when my mind wanders. Though, my mind has a history of wandering. First, like I've said a million times, deer or no deer, it's always nice to be in the woods, even in the pitch dark. When I got my buck last week with my bow and we got it field dressed in the dark woods, Bill held the knife I held the light, he went home to get the sled we use to take game out of the woods. (An Otter ice fishing sled works great hauling big game out of the woods snow or no snow. So far we have dragged a bear and several deer out on the Otter.)
I stayed in the woods with the buck so we could find it again when we came back with the sled. So Bill left me alone. I watched his flashlight move away and finally disappear into the blackness. I figured it was kind of a waste of batteries to leave my flashlight on the whole time. I mean I was just sitting under a tree and I wasn't going anywhere. So I clicked off my light and sat in the dark woods ... alone. And I mean Alone with a capital 'A'.
It was dark, big woods dark. But it was kind of cool, thrilling. I've walked through a dark woods thousand of times coming and going to tree stands and blinds but I've never just sat out there, under a tree in the middle of the night. Clouds moved slow across the starry skies, an owl hooted far off by the woods near the Namekagon River, and a slight breeze blew gently into my face.
After about 15 minutes I heard something walking through the dry leaves in the woods some 20 yards in front of me. 'What the ...' I snapped on the light and saw two eyes shinning back at me. Great, I thought. Wolves! Here I am sitting next to a fresh killed deer, a fresh pile of warm guts, and more blood on the ground than I though possible for one deer. Where the heck is Bill? My mind began to race a little. I knew he would be back soon but I doubted he would have a weapon to defend us with, either. I didn't know exactly what to do, except maybe, I thought get some walkie talkies to warn Bill and call for help. Woulda, coulda, shoulda, too late now.
Now my stomach was tumbling and my heart pounding every harder. I couldn't believe this was happening. How ironic, I thought, (it's funny how creative panic can be), woodsman kills deer, wolf kills woodsman, and the circle of life continues. I stood up slowly on shaky legs and promptly swallowed my gum. Good I thought, the wolf can choke on that too. I waved my flash light beam and the glowing eyes moved too. It has to be a wolf, or bear way out here. I stopped moving the light and the eyes stayed fixed. I wasn't scaring it away. I moved the light again, the eyes moved, again, I stopped, they stopped. At least the beast wasn't coming at me, yet. I wondered if the pack was close too, and I began to sweat like a logger. I waved the light again, and stopped. The eyes kept up with me. This was a little strange. I picked up a stick and threw it at the eyes. I grouse flushed in the dark and I shouted out in fright. Then I listened to my lonely voice echo through the cold, dark woods. Nothing happened. The eyes stayed fixed in my light beam. I threw another stick and that's when I heard it. A clinking sound. The sound of the stick hitting a metal fence post. It held up the fence around my brother Jim's apple trees. He planted them way out here just last summer. I smell a rat. I'm sure he knew this would happen when he just 'happened' to choose the same place to plant his trees that the big buck I would shoot 6 months later happened to pick to fall down and die. Can you say coincidence ... NOT! Turns out the eyes were a tag he left on the fence post.
The next thing I knew Bill was back, so was my daughter Maggie. She came with to help. We pulled and pushed that big buck out in no time. I didn't say anything about my little fears while they were gone. I mean, a woodsman doesn't cry wolf.

Tuesday, November 20, Cold, 32 degrees, Calm, Cloudy

So Does The Buck
Day four of the gun hunt. I have a good history on this day of the hunt, too. But today I didn't see a thing until almost 4 o'clock when a funny thing happened. A doe and fawn, a button buck, came past slowly and stopped not to far from my stand. They turned all the way around and faced their back trail.
'Oh Boy,' I said to myself. 'Maybe they're waiting for a following buck.'
They stood and stared for several minutes, then the doe began to browse a little, picking her head up every few seconds to look down the back trail. The fawn never did stop staring, ears perked ahead straining for sound. Every few minutes his tail would go up and he'd take a step or two back down the trail. It was mesmerized by whatever it was seeing.
This stare down went on for almost 20 minutes when I realized, that while the doe continued to browse in a nonchalant manner the fawn never stopped his vidual. And that's when I noticed the little deer body had turned a half circle from where it started. Whatever he was watching so intently was apparently moving through the woods around them. Or maybe around me. I kept a constant check on my feather on a string and I was down wind the whole time. The fawn, the doe, and whatever they were watching weren't smelling me.
Believe me, this was a very frustrating experience. I was running out of daylight fast. I had that gut feeling there was a buck out there. There is just some kind of presence that exists whenever a big buck is around. Now, the fawn was staring out into the woods. The terrain moved down a slight slope into a little clearing, then up a slight hill on the other side of the clearing. I tried as best I could to stare past the fawn and doe and out through the woods they were staring toward. At one point in the faded gray light I did see a deer, or rather just the legs moving every so slowly along the opposite hillside, but not an entire body, or head, or antlers. I remember thinking those legs look too short for the bottom quarter of body they were attached to. But that was all I saw as darkness had all but arrived.
The doe and fawn spooked when I unloaded my rifle a the appropriate time and began to climb down my ladder stand.
I thought about this hunt all night. My gut feeling told me I was dealing with a buck, but I have no real proof of it. That's all part of hunting and that's why big bucks get that way. They don't just come blundering into a hunters sights. I only have five more days until the hunt is over, and so doe the buck.

Monday, November 19, Overcast, fog, temp 38 degrees, slight breeze by mid-morning.

No Real Accomplishment
Day three of the rifle deer season. I have good history on day three. I got my first buck ever on the third day of the hunt. I usually start to panic a little on this day as it already seems like the season is slipping away. I usually hunt a little long on this day, though this year was an exception. Since I've seen very little in the mornings I didn't go out this morning.
This afternoon's hunt was quiet. I only heard 3 or 4 shots all afternoon but they were closer to me than the first two days. Maybe that will get the deer up and moving a little.
There are not very many hunters today. In fact, with just a slight breeze and very little traffic on the road, and not much shooting, it is the quietest day of the season so far.
I began to see does and fawns moving around, just browsing, but still a little nervous, abut 3:30. No bucks. I thought last year was the worst rut hunt ever. But I sure haven't seen many bucks this year either, not even on the trail cams all across our property, even though I was fortunate enough to have taken a nice 8 point buck the second to the last day of the early bow season. I just haven't seen much rut activity or sign at all.
I've only seen a few scrapes, I've yet to find a decent tree rub and I've seen no chasing through the woods. I've noticed this the last couple of year. In this neck of the north west Wisconsin north woods the does appear to out number bucks by a large amount. Too many people shooting spikes and forks instead of does. I never could understand this, and if you know me you know how I feel about this as I say it as often as I can, everyone wants to shoot a big buck but they can't hold back and they end up shooting that big buck a couple years early when it is still a spike. If you want meat shoot a doe. If you want a trophy wait and hope for a big rack. But shooting a baby buck is no real accomplishment.

Deer Season, Opening Weekend, Saturday and Sunday November 17 and 18, Windy, 35 degrees

Through The Trees
The rifle season opened slow, not much shooting Saturday morning. There were lots of hunters just not much action. Deer are laying low, no movement at all until late afternoon. Deer are spooked already and they look right at me sitting in a tree in blaze orange. A group of does went by me in late afternoon and an old doe looked up and straight at me, she busted me good. It's the first time all year, including bow season, where I have been busted by a deer. They may not see blaze orange as orange but they can still spot a big white blob sitting up in a tree. Hunters with a sky line behind them are more invisible than hunters with trees behind them.
I think the wind has a lot to do with the deer spookiness, then add the extra activity on the road, gun shots, and more people smells than normal and the deer are real edgy.

I only saw those few does and one little spike buck all day.
Shooting wise, Sunday was still very quiet. Things sure have changed in this neck of the woods. I can remember about 10 years ago when opening weekend sounded like a war. You have to wonder if there really are the amount of deer the DNR claims. There sure don't seemed to be as many hunters. We need more good hunters and we need to keep the good hunters we already have.
I saw more deer today. Does and fawns. No bucks. I didn't get one, but that's okay. Hunting is always good, and sometimes you even get to harvest something.
I've noticed some real interesting deer behavior the last few rifle seasons. But first, one of the reasons the whitetail deer survives so well, besides their great resilience, is they are extremely adaptable. For instance I've noticed the deer act quite differently to auto and truck sounds from out on the back road near my stand. I've noticed when a car or truck is driving fast along this road they send sand and gravel flying. The sound is very loud and at times echoes through the woods like a wounded monster. This sound, this loud roar of spinning gravel and is virtually ignored by deer in the area, even deer standing relatively close to the road. But then, the sound of a car or truck moving along the road at a very slow speed, some almost creeping along, where the only sound is the hum of an engine and an occasional 'snap' or 'pop' of a single stone being run over makes the deer very, very nervous, in fact, many just plain turn, put up their tails, and move away from the road and the slow moving vehicle.
Road Hunters! The deer in this neck of the woods have already adapted to the slow moving predator out on the road. Road Hunters, my friend and colleague Bill Thornley refers to this type of hunter as Slob Hunters. It's a good fit.
With all the doe tags available in Wisconsin there are some hunters trying to fill them from the warmth and comfort of their vehicles. Just like those 1960s burger and root beer stands, some are even playing the radio while they make their slow search for deer. I've heard it from my tree stand several hundred yards away in the woods. Sometimes I've seen their brake lights through the woods and I brace myself for a shot I hope doesn't come my way. Road hunters aren't concerned with following the rules or laws and they certainly aren't worried about the hunters that might be beyond their shot from the road.
I've seen or heard road hunters on both days of the season so far and it will only get worse. This is a tough crime to catch people committing. I would venture to guess it happens on almost every back road in the state. Especially the last two or three days of the season. The wardens can't possibly stake them all out. It's even difficult for other hunters to see or catch violators. It happens quick. 'Bam, Bam' at a deer walking across the road or standing in the woods next to the road right before dusk when all the real hunters are sticking it out on stand in the woods. Road Hunters shoot, jump out of the truck, throw the deer in and take off to gut and tag (maybe) somewhere safe and private. It only takes a few seconds to accomplish this crime and for its remoteness there are virtually no witnesses. Road hunting needs to be taken more seriously and the penalty for those caught should be severe. Like a life time ban from hunting or fishing in Wisconsin.
Anyway, the season is a slow one so far. But it's nice to still be sitting out in the woods, anticipating that big rack to come toward me through the trees.

Wednesday, November 14, Cold, 32 degrees, still real windy, Cloudy, Snow flakes.

The Moment Of Truth
Windy! Holy Catfish! I know in the north woods of Wisconsin it's gray and windy in November but I can't remember a bow season with so much wind. I lost the last 2 days of rut hunting because of that wind. I didn't want to skip them but yesterday we had 60 m.p.h. gusts and a steady wind around 35 m.p.h. And though it's windy again today it's not as bad as yesterday. Now there is only two days of bow hunting until rifle season. I gotta get out there.
I got a late start because of the wind and didn't get into my stand until about 2:30. At 2:55 I saw him. A buck! A rack! I couldn't believe it. I was beginning to wonder if there were any bucks left along this ridge. But there he was in the woods right in front of me. He wasn't on a trail and was walking toward me. This was it, the moment of truth. I was ready, and then ... the buck stopped. It was still 50 yards out and standing in heavy brush. I could see the rack. It was real light in color with much mass and stuck well out over the ears. But I didn't have a shot. It had to come little closer. I saw its head go up to test the gusty breeze with its sensitive nose. And then, it turned and stepped quickly through the woods and was gone as quickly as it had arrived. That's the way it is with big bucks, they appear and disappear like magic.
Darn it! Maybe I should have grunted. No that didn't work very well with my brother Jim's buck. Maybe I should have tried the doe bleat can? Maybe I should have remembered to bring the doe bleat can along with me? Now comes the second guessing. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Been there, done that and was doing it again. The next hour and a half dragged as I went over and over the buck sighting incident to see what I did wrong and why did the buck leave? I kept reminding myself a bow hunter is lucky if he even sees a big buck, and real lucky if he gets a shot. I couldn't help think maybe my chance had just come and gone. I felt sick to my stomach.
Then, around 4:30, as I was absently looking up the trail I saw movement, no I saw a rack of antlers and it was coming right toward me. It was a real nice 8 point buck. At first I thought the big buck had returned. But then I realized this rack was dark and not as wide as the antlers on the first buck. But it was a shooter just the same. It was a second chance, or maybe a last chance.
I watched it move slow with its head down, not all the way to the ground but held low. Then it stopped. Oh gosh I thought I hope it doesn't wind me. I looked at the feather I have hanging from a branch in front of my stand. No, I thought it had been a swirling wind almost all day, but at the moment I was straight down wind. No Sir, this was it. No excuses. The buck was here and I had the wind, it was now up to me to do the rest. My mind and heart began to race each other. A wave of panic washed over me. I took a deep breath and the buck took a couple of steps toward me. My muscles were tight, my stomach tumbled and I couldn't believe the buck didn't hear my scared and heavy breathing.
Okay, I thought, since I always hold my bow on my lap the first thing to do was raise it up and, 'hook up' the release, just slip it onto the bow string and, and ... it wouldn't go on, it wouldn't ...
'Hook Up!' I screamed inside my head. 'What's wrong with this stupid thing now, of all times? Hook ... '
Oh, I thought when I discovered I hadn't opened the release yet. I pulled the trigger and finally hooked up to the bow string.
The buck moved closer, my heart now raced like Churchhill Downs 3 year old. The buck was in range and walked slowly between the trees. Then it stopped, broadside 20 yards out. The body was big, the neck swelled. The rack was wide, definitely a shooter as it barely went out over its ears.
'Okay, okay,' I said to myself. I had to calm down and pulled back on my bow string. It was difficult, it all seems so easy practising in the driveway. I pulled harder and harder and I think I even grunted a little for the effort. The buck was still there. What's wrong with my arms I thought? They felt like spaghetti. Weak from my great nervousness. But the string finally came back and tension let off. The buck stood still, still. It hadn't heard, or seen, or scented me ... yet.
'Get going,' I shouted inside my head again. 'Be shootin'! Be shootin'! It's going to get away.'
'Aim,' something else shouted in my head. 'Arm straight, back stiff. Find the peep. Yes, yes the peep, the peep sight. I can't see it.'
Now I really began to panic. What was happening. I raised my bow a little.
'Where's the damn ...'
Oh, there it is. 'Now line up the peep with the pin.
'The Pin, the pin, ' I shouted in my head again. 'I can't find the damn ...'
Oh, there it is, lined up with the peep.
Now I found the buck's shoulder with my sights. I still hadn't moved.
'Hurry!' I heard in my head. I'm sure it was the Hobbernock trying to cause me to hurry shot and miss, again.
I tried to calm down and moved my sights down to the vitals. Hold steady I thought, take care, I don't want to blow ...
'SHOOT!'
I pulled the release trigger and froze as I watched the arrow slice straight and fast (you can't beat a Mathews bow) and hit the buck in the ribs. Smack!
The buck jumped and bound away through Jim's little apple orchard and was gone. I was surprised to see the arrow sticking out the side of the buck when it ran away. I couldn't believe it didn't go through, though I knew it was a good shot. I got vitals. The buck would go down soon, no doubt about it. I fell back in my chair. That was the longest 3 seconds of my life. My heart was still pounding, there was a loud ringing in my ear, sweat poured down my face, my arms shook, my stomach flipped, then flopped, I leaned over the side of my tree stand and threw up. God, I love this sport.
I waited the prescribed 3 minutes and went down the ladder on shaky legs. I knew I was jumping the gun and should wait a couple hours, but I couldn't help it. I'd just walk to where the buck had been standing when I shot. There was no blood, no hair, no nothing. Now I had to move up the trial several yards but still nothing. I kept going even though I knew I shouldn't. Then, I began to find blood. Little drops at first, then bigger, then lots of blood. I backed off. The buck was heading down the ridge above our little swamp. I was sure I'd find him right away.
I walked home, called my brother Bill and changed into some tracking clothes. Me and Bill picked up the blood trail and though it got spotty in the dark woods a time or two we stayed tight to it and found the buck laying next to a log soon after we started looking.
The buck's body was, indeed, huge and the rack was good too. It was an old buck., a nice 8 point rack, though I have to admit it did suffer from some amount of ground shrinkage, but a trophy nonetheless.
So my bow buck hunt for 2007 is over and successful, though I plan to take two does yet. I won't be able to hunt a buck again for two days, until rifle season starts this Saturday the 17th. Maybe the other big buck will still be chasing does. I can hardly wait. I just hope I'm ready for another ... moment of truth.

Sunday, November 11, Warm, 55 degree, Sunny, Calm

Hot Time
Summer again. Yesterday I sat in the cold and snow and today I'm back to my warm weather camo and swatting gnats again.
In my morning hunt I was way over dressed and saw only one deer, a small buck with a fork on one side and a tall spike on the other.
I saw more deer in the afternoon, all does and fawns. No bucks. It wasn't too many years ago by this time in November I'd seen almost 2 weeks of rut activity, running, sparring, chasing. If I was lucky I'd see a couple of big bucks and if I was real lucky I'd get a shot at one way before this date. But it hasn't been that way for almost 3 years now. Is it this way all over, is anyone else seeing intense rut activity or is it one big lull everywhere else too? Some guys are saying they don't think the rut will get real wound up until gun season, We'll see.
I don't think there are too many deer totally in the herd, but I do think the herd is out of balance and we need to take more does. I plan to take at least 2 does and maybe more, But I'm running out of time to bow hunt the rut for a big buck. I'll have to hit it hard the next four days. It's not that I mind hunting the late bow season in December. But you talk about being alone, stiing in a tree, in a forest in winter. Most of the day it's you, a crow cawing in your ears and a north west wind slapping you in the face. The best chance of seeing a big buck in the late season is at a food source right at dusk. That's right after you've been sitting in the cold all afternoon and it's the coldest part of the day. By this time of the day your feet are cold, your fingers are numb, and your nose is running like a leaky faucet in a men's room. You are thinking more about what's for supper than you are any old buck. I love comfort food after a bow hunt, meatloaf or macaroni and cheese or something like that.
No Sir, the best thing to do is take a buck now, in the next few days. It's still the rut and the chances of seeing a big buck out and about during the day are still good. I just hope the weather holds out.

Saturday, November 10,2007 Cold, Cloudy, snowing wet flakes mixed with rain. 29 degrees.

Blood In The Milk
I got a late start today. The weather is miserable and the woods quiet. I was in my stand at 10 A.M.. It was cold and damp as a used dish rag. I was hunkered down in my tree stand on one side of the trail and a little way through the woods on the opposite side of the same trail was my brother Jim in his tree stand.
Let me take a minute here to give some vital background on Jim. He's soon to turn 56 years old and is about two years older than me and the oldest of us four brothers (Jim, John, Bob, and Bill). He was a typical big brother when we were growing up all those years ago. Which means he never missed a chance to tease or get his little brothers into trouble. He loved it when he could get all three of us at once. But of all the things he said and did to us I especially remember an incident when he was about 13 years old. We were at the dinner table (we always ate at the dinner table in the 60s) and one of us younger boys complained about the milk being a little warm. Jim saw his chance here to take us all down and told us to shut up and to appreciate what we had as in many underprivileged countries kids didn't have 'regular' milk like us, but warm, dirty milk ... with blood in it. Well that was all I had to hear. I didn't drink milk for a year and I still have a problem with it. But that's what big brothers do, find good excuse to antagonize their siblings. I would get even.
Anyway, back to the hunt. It was about 10:55 when the only deer we saw so far that morning came in. A real nice 8 point buck and it moved passed me down the trail. I passed on shooting it as I am looking for something larger. It would, however, be the perfect buck for Jim. It would be his first buck in 15 years of hunting.
I watched the buck move way from me right toward Jim. This was going to be fun to watch. I saw the buck move ever closer to him. In fact, it looked like it was right in front of Jim. Why wasn't he shooting? The buck kept walking.'Why isn't he shooting?' I whispered.
I starting to get that sinking feeling a hunter gets when he blows an opportunity and a big bucks gets away. The buck kept going. It was getting away!
'He must have buck fever,' I whispered.
I had to help him. I had to snap him out of it and stop the buck. That's when I did what I thought I should do for my brother, I grunted. My thought being the buck would stop, look back toward me and give Jim his shot. But the buck didn't stop like they always do on the TV hunting shows. It jumped ahead down the trail several yards. I grunted again and this time it turned away from Jim and ran like a scared rabbit. Gone! Along with Jim's best chance at a nice buck.
As it turned out I had jumped the gun. The reason Jim didn't shoot was because the buck hadn't made it to this shooting lane yet. It was but a step away, Jim was drawn and ready, but my grunt ruined it all. It sent the buck passed his lane. I feel so bad, even though it could just be a karma pay back for all of his big brother stunts. But, be that as it may, I take official blame for ruining Jim's only chance at a big buck.
Though there is that unofficial excuse for this incident, too. A philosophical reason Jim didn't get that buck. It just wasn't meant to be, not in the cards of life for Jim to take this buck. Maybe the buck was really meant for me, next year when it was much bigger still. That could be you know. And if this is truly the case, that it was predestine that he didn't shoot this buck, well then it's really not my fault. I was just a agent for the Cosmos. This, indeed, is what I am subscribing to. It just wasn't my fault.
Okay, so I know it's not a very good excuse but he is my big brother and, c'mon, it's tough to beat, 'blood in the milk.'

Friday November 9, 2007, Cold, lower 20s at dawn. Slight breeze and snowing.

Bring It On
Snow! A mid-rut snow would surely get these bucks moving. They weren't running when it was windy, they weren't moving when it was calm, snow will have to bring out the deer.
It did! Lots of deer, does and fawns moving all afternoon. Then right before dark a big buck came in. But I passed on it and so did my brother Bill about an hour before on his stand way on the other side of the lake. (Once they get started a big buck can move long ways in one day, as much as 5 miles.) The reason we didn't take this buck? Three of his 10 tines, all on the same side were broken off. I hope it's enough that everyone passes on him this year because next year, without broken tines you'll have a 'book' buck.
Of the few bucks I've seen this season this is the second one with broken antlers. The other was a spike, almost any other deer could have done that, but I wonder about the size of the buck that busted up the ten pointer. We have one more week before gun season. I'll hunt as much as I can as the big boys may have just started feeling their oats.
There calling for snow tomorrow. Bring it on.

Thursday November 8, Temps. in the 30s. Dead calm, overcast.

The Cat's Meow ... Can You Say Hobbernock?
Well if the deer weren't running yesterday in the wind they'll surely be out today in this complete and eerie sort of calm. The low cloud cover kept it dark all day. It was one of those days you could almost feel the spirits of past hunters sharing the woods with you, so quiet you could hear your heart beat in the deep recess of you mind. But the deer weren't really moving much.
I did finally see a couple of does browsing slowly down the trail toward me in late afternoon. But then they stopped short and looked straight ahead. Something else was coming at them from the opposite end of the trial.
A buck? I hoped that was what was coming down the trail at all of us. But the deer then turned quickly and disappeared down the shadowy trail behind the flash of white tails. I turned my head to look the other way to see what had spooked them so fast. I was surprised to see a large white and black cat coming toward me. (Now don't get me wrong, I love cats. Our family has two and one sleeps on the end of the bed every night. I love dogs too but I don't want to see either in the deer woods with me.) I set down my bow and started down the ladder to chase the cat away before it put down any more scent on the trail. But the second it saw me move it turned and ran away. It's the second cat I've seen while buck hunting this year. Isn't that the Cat's Meow?
Can you say Hobbernock?

Tuesday, November 6, 2007 Cold, 30 degrees at Dawn, Cold all day, partly cloudy, slight wind early then strong and gusty later in day.

Be Huntin'

Saw no deer in A.M. at all. None! It was a little disheartening. No deer on stand in the middle of the rut. Some hunters say the rut is starting late and will be going full swing during gun season. I don't think so. It's started already and it always starts slow. The big boys start to stir on the 8th, 9th, and 10th. If you're in the woods enough you'll see it. But Mr. 200 Inch Buck will be running in daylight sometime the middle of next week. I'll be ready.
Afternoon hunt was better. Deer moving around good. Saw two different spike bucks, still only spikes, but they were chasing does in earnest. My brother Jim saw bucks too, spikes and a six.
All the bucks we've seen have been chasing. In the mean time all this time on stand goes to a lot of thinking about stuff. Among a million other things, I thought up two more features for the site, I thought about Christmas presents, what I wanted and what I would give, I thought a lot about how lucky I am to live here and have the time and job that allows me to be in the woods all the time. It's mostly really about my wife Lori who allows me to be here, live here, all the time. And she has long legs, too. Am I a lucky guy or what? I also thought about my two wonderful daughters, Kate and Maggie and how much love and joy all three have brought to my life. Yes, I am truly blessed. And I also thought about ways ... To Be A Successful Deer Hunter and then me and my brother Bill kicked around some ideas.
To Be A Successful Deer Hunter
1. Be Shootin'
2. Be Aimin'
3. Be Confident
4. Be Alert

5. Be Ready
6. Be Practised
7. Be Respectful
8. Be Aware
9. Be Brave
10 Be Careful
The reason Be Shootin' is before Be Aimin' is not to say shoot before you aim. Take these as a whole, all of them are going on at the same time. But you're never going to harvest deer unless you shoot and many, many deer are lost because the hunter takes too long to aim and it just plain walks away. It all goes to the fact that to be successful at all of them you need to ... Be Huntin'!

Monday November 5, 2007 Cold and real windy, 31 degrees at 7:00 A.M. and only 34 at 9:00.

ONE OF THESE DAYS

Snow! Yes it snowed a couple of times today. It's about 15 days late but it was good to see just the same.
I've never seen it so windy so many days during bow season. Today was no exception. The wind blew so hard the whispering pines were shouting all day long.
The deer were real nervous, jumpy. Then my good brother Jim, who is up from Illinois to hunt with me and another brother Bill, decided he wanted to try out a buck decoy. I was a little skeptical but what the heck. As it turned out it didn't attract any bucks and it scared heck out of all the does. I mean all of them, everyone that saw the buck decoy ran away. There was more snorting in those woods then a 5th grade classroom during cold and flu season.
Anyway, today we had cold but very nervous deer that didn't stay in one place very long and no bucks at all. The right combination has to come together one of these days.

Sunday, November 4, 2007, Warm, 55 degrees

Deer on the move again. Only one buck all day, a little spike. I've seen four or five different spikes and that one six pointer and that's it for bucks all season. I can't wait to see something bigger, meaner, something with big antlers and a chip on his shoulders, something looking for trouble, something to scare the heck out of me. They say the weather is about to change, cold and snow. We'll see, as for the deer, maybe tomorrow ... again.

November 3, 2007 Cold, 24 degrees at 7:00 A.M.. Calm, Sunny

GET OUT THERE

It's Saturday and I'm up and out to my stand at the crack of 9:30, Had a light breakfast as those pizza cramps have kicked in. I knew I shouldn't have ate it. No coffee, though I could use some. The sun is bright in an azure blue sky. Once settled in my stand I looked up at the beautiful blue sky through long, slender and very green pine needles. A blue sky seen through a screen of green. It don't get any prettier. I guess I'm good to go until noon. Why am I craving a prune Danish?
I didn't make it all the way until noon. The woods were quiet and bright and there was more traffic on the nearby town road. I usually don't hunt on Saturdays because of all the extra traffic in the woods but it is the rut. I guess the deer feel the same way, as I was out and they were not, 'to heck with the rut.' I suppose there is lots of deer activity most of the night and they're sleeping in again. I hope this is the last lull. I've already made it through the early season lull, the pre, pre and the pre rut lulls, the Sunday slowdowns, youth hunt's, T zones, rain, rain, and more rain (we need the rain) and several other reasons for the deer not to move past my stand. This is their last rest. Get going deer. It's date night every night for the next week or so and it's time to ... get it on! Maybe the afternoon hunt will be better, it has to be.
Not really. The afternoon hunt was pleasant but slow. It's funny, you wait and wait all year for bow season and the rut. In your head you picture giant bucks with 200 inch racks jumping all over the place, all of the time. But then the season finally arrives and you wish you would have dreamed less and prepared more. For instance, places, different place to hunt. When I'm having a slow day on one stand I'm always supposing those bucks are jumping all over the place near a different stand. And now, if you think like me, when you don't see a lot of deer, and few if any bucks, you're disappointed you didn't put up more stands or build more blinds to hunt in more places. But stop. Don't be disappointed, it's the rut, you'll have more good days then bad days. Your odds of getting a look, and maybe a shot, at one of the big boys improves every day. Of course, that's in direct proportion to the number of hours you're out there hunting. So, get out there.

November 2, 2007 44 degrees at 7:00 A. M., Partly Cloudy, Calm early then very windy.

Maybe Today ... Maybe Tomorrow

I'm hunting more hours now. I got out this morning around 8:30. I just can't get out any earlier. It all starts about 5:15. I get up and begin letting dogs out and in and in and out again. I walk the treadmill for 20 plus minutes. The family gets up and after a feverish rush mostly between kitchen and bathroom they are out of the house. More dogs go in and out and finally all in, either in an outside kennels or back into the house. I'm lucky if I get out before 8:30.
Though, I've never been a good early morning hunter. I've taken several nice bucks over the years and not one in the morning. The only thing I ever saw on morning stand were blue jays, crows, squirrels, and occasionally a wondering trespasser. I guess the deer in this neighborhood are all late sleepers. It's also more difficult to anticipate nature calls in the early morning. I can't drink coffee when I get up if I'm going hunting right away, or drink juice or eat brand anything. It's colder in the morning. Besides I like hunting into the dark better than away from it.
But then, it's the rut so I'm out earlier. I saw 8 deer by 10:30. All does and fawns. No bucks yet today. By 10:45 the wind had really picked up. It was then I realized I hadn't eaten yet today. What was I thinking? Hunting on an empty stomach is like being forced to go to a "Chick Flick" with your wife, there's lots of uncontrollable grumbling and you're totally unsatisfied. At 10:46 I climbed out of my stand. Lunch is served.
I had pizza for lunch. It tasted so good on an empty stomach, but I knew I would pay. Too much cheese usually doesn't cause too much of a problem in my digestive track, or sitting for long periods of time like I do in my treestand also doesn't serve to affect me, but you put the two together and I'll bind up tighter than rusted lug nuts. We'll see what happens tomorrow.
It was real windy all afternoon. Lots of does only one buck, a little spike, They're calling for a cool down in temperatures in a day or two. Maybe even snow! I can hardly wait. There is nothing more awe inspiring than to see a big buck when the temperature drops and it snows. The big buck's muscular body and huge neck accent a wide crown of antlers that extend out well past its ears. Snow or frost glisten along its back and billowy clouds of frozen breath chug from its mouth and flaring nostrils. It's a picture I've seen before and I'll never forget it. I hope to see it again. Maybe tomorrow?

November 1, 2007 Warm, 55 degrees, windy, partly cloudy

The Rut ... Make Book On It!
The deer are starting to move real good. At least they are today and last night I saw a couple spikes. Today it was a six pointer. I nice little basket rack. I'm looking for something a lot bigger, though I know lots of guys would have finished their hunt with that buck. To each his own. Does are getting more jumpy everyday. It's a great time to be in the deer woods. Anything can happen. A big buck could appear and disappear in a matter of seconds.
It's time to be alert, to be ready. I've never been one for pasting time on stand by reading or, heaven forbid, texting on a cell phone. I mean, you don't read while you're doing other sports, water or snow skiing or golfing. No Sir, sitting quietly and watching is the most important part of bow hunting. It's the same for fishing, too. My wife use to do that when we were first married. I'd be baiting hooks and she'd be turning pages.
Anyway, anticipation is great during the rut. Like I said anything can happen at any second. The only feeling that has ever come close to it is years ago when I was a kid and learning how to fish. I'd painstakingly bait the hook with a specially chosen worm, then I'd drop it into the water next to the boat and hold on. It was so exciting. Waiting to feel that tug on the line or see the bobber bounce up and down.
Time has pasted and it was only a few year ago but I remember passing the same fishing traditions along to my daughters when I taught them how to fish. (Though they do take after their mother more than me, and don't get me wrong, that's a very good thing.) I would painstakingly bait their hooks with worms that I picked out and then I'd drop it over the side of the boat, I could hardly wait for a bite. When I felt a tug I'd hand the rod to one of them and she'd put down her book and land the fish.
Like I said it's the rut, anything can happen and if you're not ready you'll miss your chance without turning a page, and you can make book on it.

Sunday, October 28, 2007 Warm, 50 degrees, slight wind, partly cloudy.

Forgetaboutit
Sunday afternoon and the forest was quiet as a deer woods can be. An occasional breeze filled the tree tops with the whispers a buck hunter longs to hear. He whispers back, aware that here is the only place this conversation takes place.
The deer are moving, I'm seeing a few different bucks, all little ones. Does are nervous and running here and there, though they are not yet being chased. But that could be just a day or two, or a few degrees drop in temperature to fill the woods with deer activity. I can hardly wait.
It's also at times like this when a hunters mind can wander. This is not good. In fact, it can be down right bad.
Now is the time, when I'm in my treestand, when my mind wanders to past hunts, to big bucks I've taken, and mostly, to big bucks I've missed. There were lots of reasons for those misses, though they all come from the same source ... the Hobernok!
Yes Sir, the Hobernok, if you're a buck hunter you know him, though you probably don't know it. There is a legend, it comes from my Young Jake Savage and Woodsman Boss Stalker series. The Hobernok is the spirit of a long dead deer hunter who never shot a big buck, though he tried. And he didn't take it laying down, not even when he died. For centuries now he has wondered the deer woods, looking to haunt someone else's hunt. To see to it they didn't get the big buck either. He is very good at what he does.
It is the Hobernok who knocks your bow against the tree and loosens the sight on the way up to your tree stand, it is him who pushed the knock of your arrow off the string as you raised your bow to shoot at a buck who lifted his head and watched your arrow fall to the ground before he trotted away triumphantly. A big buck knows who the Hobernok is, too. It is the Hobernok who whispers for you to, 'hurry, hurry, hurry,'your shot. 'The buck is getting away ... Hurry!' It is the Hobernok who causes you to order a dozen new arrows a half inch short, or makes you buy the wrong grain bullets and not the ones you sighted your rifle in on. It is the Hobernok who places a pile of fresh dog poop on the dark trail to your tree stand out behind the house or cabin. Yes, the Hobernok is a spirit so evil he turns a man's own schnauzer against him, and I mean fresh poop. It is the Hobernok who infects the hunter with Buck Fever shakes and sweat.
Though, all is not hopeless. The Hobernok can be defeated. He might be a good trickster, but he was a bad hunter. Concentration and confidence is what will defeat the Hobernok. So, like a good scout, be prepared. And when the Hobernok shows up on your hunt you tell him to ... forgetaboutit!

October 26, 2007 28 degrees at 9:00 A.M.., Calm

Fishin' The Rut
A bit of a departure from my daily routine today. I'm going to get one last day of fishing in. My long time friend Paul snuck out of work for the day and drove over from the Cities. We had our fingers crossed all week about the weather, I mean, this time of year snow is a real possibility. But that wasn't the case this time.
Though the day dawned chilly, and my mind momentarily drifted to deer movement and big bucks, and for an instant I wondered just what the heck I was doing as it is late October, it is the Rut. By 9 o'clock the sun was up and on the mirror calm surface of the lake. Columns of wispy fog rose up and disappeared like spirits to haunt another time. I brought towels along with the fishing equipment to wipe off the boat seats, but what I though was droplets of dew were really frozen droplets of dew. But we were troupers and we were fishing.
The sun felt good as it shined bright on the silent northwoods lake. I wore a thick chamois shirt and a heavy hooded sweat shirt and I was comfortable. The fishing started slow, at least the catching did, but we made up for it catching up on old times instead. Our old times are made up of lots of other fishing trips and lots of laughs. We might not always catch a lot of fish but we always have a good time.
Apparently the fish sleep in on these cool autumn mornings. And then, to our great surprise as we were way back in the woods, we ran into another fisherman. An otter. He wasn't too happy with us when we slipped silently into a back bay. He chattered loud and whistled at us. And he did both while holding onto one of the biggest blue gills I ever saw. I guess when you can dive down and choose your fish from the school you go for the big one. Any real fisherman would. Besides, like my brother Bill said, it probably takes as much energy to catch a big blue gill as a little one.
And here's another funny thing, I've been a woodsman a long time, but until today I never knew I understood the language of Otters. But I was having no problem understanding what this long tailed fisherman was saying.
'Hey! What are you guys doing? This is a big lake. I was here first. Have some respect for my fishin' hole and step off ... right now.'
We did.
The water was crystal clear and it was easy to see there were no fish in the shallows. That and we weren't catching any thing. We weren't using any electronics so finding the fish was going to be hit or miss. Pass the coffee and keep casting.
Along about 11:30 with the sun high and warm we found bass suspended a few feet below the surface over deep water just off a big drop off near shore. It was like the bass were peaking over the drop off edge and keeping an eye on the shallows. I brought a Rapala (#13 floating, black and gold) over the school and they came to get it. We didn't catch a lot of fish but enough to feel good about it and a couple of them were plus 20 inches.
I highly recommend a late fall fishing trip before the lake freezes solid. It gets you back in touch with the lake, the boat, the fish. In the grind of daily life it's easy to forget how much fun fishing can be. And it's not just the catching, it's the whole spectrum, the sights, and sounds, and smells of fishing. It felt good. I've been hunting, or preparing to hunt, for months now and I'd forgotten just how good it is to be in a boat out in the lake again. To feel the pull of a strong bass on the end of my line, to feel the cold water as I return the fish to the sky blue lake to fight again ... to fish the Rut!

Tuesday, October 23, 2007, Warm 60 degrees, overcast, sprinkles, high winds, strong gusts.

It's Happening
Real Windy, jackpine tops were spinning more like toy tops. I was in a tree stand, in a large Norway pine, of all days. Last night I hunted in the calm in the Jake Savage ground blind and I didn't see a living thing. Nothing. Not a deer or squirrel, nothing! But I figure it is darn close to the rut and I had to hunt everyday if possible. I would hunt the wind.
I didn't realize just how high the winds or powerful the gusts really were until I was already up there. The tree was swaying like a drunken sailor. I heard the tree creak and groan and a couple of times it felt like it moved so far it picked my ladder stand off the ground. I would have gotten down right then if I wasn't afraid to let go of my chair and unhook my safety strap. Man it was scary stuff. But then being a bow hunter is about scary stuff. Walks through a dark and spooky woods, howling wolves and yipping coyotes. You're the only human around and they all have you out numbered. There are high places and small platforms to stand or sit on with all of your equipment. The weather can be cold and hoary and then there is the scariest thing of all, buck fever itself. You might not have to be too smart or too pretty to be a good bow hunter, but you gotta have guts.
I've never been sea sick but I was beginning to wonder if there was such a think as tree stand sick. Well let me tell you right now, there is.
I was in my stand by 3:45 and I began to see deer right away in spite of the wind. Though the deer were all a little nervous, the wind does that to them, join the club. I was sitting among some oaks and on a trail to the lake. I also saw my first buck with antlers, as opposed to nubs, of this season. That's the way the rut starts. You see the little guys first (spikes and forks), then a few day later the bigger bucks start to appear (sixs and little basket rack eights), a few days later still you begin to see even bigger bucks (big, wide, thick eights or better), and then for only a few day a year (around the 8th of November), you might even see one of the big boys, A Trophy 200 class, a reputation maker, something you can brag on and listen to other guys brag on you about for years, if the buck is big enough the story will be around long after you are, all you have to do is make the shot. Like I said ... scary!
It's all about the rut and it's happening.

* Wednesday. October 10, 2002, 48, slight wind from the NW, overcast

I Know The Feeling
It happened, the 40s hit and I was ready to get out in the woods with my bow. Actually the 40s hit Monday but they came with lots of rain (we need the rain) and wind. But today is better.
I made it to one of my tree stands by mid afternoon. Gosh it felt good to be sitting in that tree, in that woods again. When I'm among the trees, among gnarly branches and dead leaves, with the squirrels and birds at arms length, it's like I've become a part of the forest. I saw my first deer about 5 P.M. A buck! Though it was just a nubbin' buck it was still all buck. I'm figuring it's a good omen.
The little buck was heading down the trail to somewhere and was in no particular hurry. I'm not sure he knew where he was going but it didn't seem to matter. I know the feeling.
Twenty minutes later three does went past. I'm sure one was the buck's mother and the other two are last years fawns. A family unit with a wondering off spring. I know the feeling.
Soon, too soon, this first day of yet another great bow season was dieing. You forget how wonderful it is to watch, to experience, the forest change from day to night. The breeze dies and the light begins to dim, there is a changing of the guard. The squirrels disappear to some tree top nest or den, raccoons come out.

October 4, 2007
74 and sunny, light breeze

Ease Off Them Horns
It's the kind of day for napping in a hammock or fishing blue gills off the pier. (I suppose it's really called a dock. But pier is what my grandpa called it back in the 50s, pier is what I was raised on and I'll stick with it now.) But it wasn't the kind of day for bow hunting. At least not for me. I don't like the heat, big bucks don't like the heat.
Now don't get me wrong I'll endure just about any other kind of weather, a blinding snow storm, or freezing rain (watch those steps on the tree stand ladder, they where dry on the way up but icy and dangerous on the way down), even sit still for high winds (there are times during the rut, when a deer hunter should sit out no matter what the conditions, when my tree stand turns into a swaying carnival ride in high winds), but I don't hunt the heat.
This time of year time really seems to drag. It's a time of transition and no one is sure what to do. My hunting clothes have all been washed and air dried on the clothes lines and are back in their airtight containers. I can be ready and dressed to hunt within minutes of an unexpected temperature drop into the 40s.
They're calling for rain the next four days. (We need the rain.) But temperatures are suppose to stay near 60. Rats! I got to get out in the woods. I mean, how

September 25 windy, cool, rainy, 52 degrees

I Hoped
It looked and felt more like a day in November instead of September and I was breaking my number one rule this time of year. I was going into my ground blinds in the deep woods during the bow season, but I was not hunting.
The weather had been stormy of late. Lots of rain and wind. We need the rain. But it battered us pretty good for a couple days and nights. I was worried my blinds had been damaged and I wanted to fix them before I hunted them. Or maybe it was just a good excuse to get out in the woods.
It was mid afternoon when I stepped out my back door and into the woods. It was gray and drizzling. I figured the likelihood of running into hunters in this weather, this early in the day, this early in the season was low. I was wrong.
I was halfway down the trail when I heard a gun shot. Rifle? Shot gun? I wasn't sure, it startled me. It was close, just the next ridge. My heart was beating like a love crazed grouse. I wasn't worried someone would shoot at me if they saw me, but there I stood in the deep woods, in the fall, wearing a dark brown sweatshirt and a camo cap. I couldn't decide what I might look like to someone looking through the trees from the next ridge. A bear? A big buck? Both seasons were in progress. Or what about that errant shot I always read about, the one that happens to someone else. But it has happened here, in this neck of the woods.

Thursday 9/13/07 Warm, Windy, 75 degrees

In The Woods
This is the last day of prep work before the season officially begins. It's a great day to be in the woods and to think, only two days until the bow season opener. I've been dreaming about this time for 8 or 9 months.
This is also my last day of scouting and wandering aimlessly through my neck of the woods. I don't do it during the season because I don't want to walk through some other hunters hunt (been there, done that), and I don't want to push a big buck out of my stomping grounds to another hunter (really been there, done that).
I was just putting the finishing touches on my Jake Savage ground blind. What a great spot. I'm on the edge of an open area, an honest to goodness forest clearing, in a thick woods. My blind is built around a large oak near the top of a small knob. I'm looking down through the clearing. I'm on the ground but well above the trails the deer use. This is the best kind of woods for a deer hunter. It's almost all white oaks. This year the white oak acorn crop was tremendous. There are millions on the ground. When you hear someone say, "the deer are all off in the woods eatin' acorns," this is where they go. There is much deer sign, much bear sign, too. This is where I want to bait when, and if, I ever get a bear tag. I think this year may be my year. Of course, I thought that last year.

Wednesday, April 18 - 63 degrees today and real windy from the east. Maybe it will blow in some weather. The forest is crunchy dry. We need rain, bad! Maybe this weekend? I hope so ... they are comparing this year to 1977. This year is the third year in a row of drought. That's the way it was in '77. During a dry year, especially a dry spring when nothing is green yet, a woodsman lives in fear of that first whiff of wood smoke on the breeze. A small fire got started near the house last year. The neighbors and I collected our shovels and rakes and headed out to fight the fire before it got to our houses here on this backwoods ridge. But we were sent away. They don't take volunteers to fight a forest fire today. They told us to go home and get ready to vacate. Lucky for us they put the fire out fast. But be

Anyway, next fall I'm going back to hunt a place I first hunted 15 years ago. I call it my buck ridge for the many bucks I used to see there. It's only about a 30 minute walk from home or a 10 minute walk and drive. Fifteen years ago I did the walk. But my bones are older now. I mean, nowadays on long walks I can actually have a conversation with my creaking left knee. I'm going with the drive and walk. Taking the car part of the way doesn't matter so much on the way in to hunt, but when I'm finished hunting for the day and it's dark, and I'm as cold as I can possibly be, and my muscles are sore and stiff, and I'm so hungry I could eat a second helping of Lori's meat loaf, the car will never look so good. The Milky Way and thermos of coffee I leave on the seat just for the occasion will be some of the finest tasting food I'll ever experience.

My buck ridge has changed much over the years. The biggest change, of course, was two years ago when they clear cut the top and the sides almost all the way to the bottom. I've found a spot more than halfway down the hill next to an old oak stump with many shoots sticking out that make for great camouflage. There is an old badger hole next to the stump and I've smoothed out the sand to make a shallow pit to fit me and my hunting stool, then I built a blind with brush from the logging around the front and remaining side. When I'm inside I'm quite invisible. Now I just have to stay scent free, play the wind, and be lucky enough to be there when the buck comes by.

Twenty yards below on a trail at the edge of the woods are two scrapes left from last fall. Buck sign. I can hardly wait for bow season.

Thursday April 19 - 63 degrees again. Still windy and dry. I'm riding my mountain bike down our back road to the woods where blind number two is being constructed a quarter mile in from where I hide my bike in the brush. I'm in the same vicinity as the buck ridge. Good sign here too, many rubs. Big tracks in the sand. I've chosen a place on the edge of a stand of white oaks, near the logging cut over. I am over looking a little lake. The brush near the water is thick. I like the location as the buck has cover, food, and water.

I'm not only building the hunting blind at the foot of a large oak, but I'm also constructing a short brush fence to channel deer traffic from one trail to my shooting trail. I've done this before. It never works. The deer and the hunter just aren't on the same page with channeling deer one way or the other. They invariably find another way to go around. Sometimes I don't even see them. I just hear them crashing through the woods directly behind me. I don't turn around or move in hopes they come my way, but they don't and I end up not even seeing the deer. Of course, my dad always said, "If buck hunting was easy everyone would hunt bucks."

I almost poked my eye out moving some uncooperative oak brush. Oak brush is heck to work with, to move into place in your location. It snags and grabs every thing it can as you try to pull it through the woods. I'm always stopping and yanking it free. This time I pulled too hard and a broken, jagged end came up and hit me less than a quarter inch from my left eye. I didn't realize at the time how close I came to having a serious injury. When I got home and looked in the mirror I winced again. A close call. Too close!

I'm going to pick up some safety goggles next time I go to town. It's just another article I'll add to my scouting survival pack. The goggles will go in there along with: Bottle of water, candy bars or cookies (they are my favorite and the most important articles as far as I'm concerned), flash light (This is an important item, too. Sometimes when I'm scouting or building blinds I lose track of time, and then when I add in daylight savings -- spring forward, jump down -- or something like that, I finally realize there is 5 minutes of daylight left but a 15 minute hike home), anyway, bic lighter, compass, bandaids, aspirin, binoculars, range finder, paper towels, folding saw, rose clippers, and a small shovel. I'm sure there are other items I need, but it's still early in scouting season.

This stand over looks the water. A beautiful view is just one of the fringe benefits of being a deer hunter. Some cynics say, "Why do you hunt meat when it's so good and so cheap in grocery stores compared to what you pay for licenses, gear, guns, days off work and so on?" Well, let me tell you this, the grocery store meat counter doesn't have near the view of my deer blind. It's easy for a deer hunter out in the big woods to understand the meaning of life, "Behold and Give Thanks." I'll take the hunted meat every time.

Saturday April 21, 77 degrees, calm winds, overcast

The woods are dry; the weather forecast is not encouraging. According to the weather guys on the news last night there is a front going out and another one coming in and the result will be wind. The encouraging thing is they are calling for rain. One weather guy said maybe a little rain tonight, another said it's more likely to rain tomorrow on Sunday, and still another guy said, don't count on anything. Nothing right now at 9:00 a.m. It's calm but getting real cloudy now. And the air feels damp. Maybe the weather guys are all wrong and the rain will come early, will come ... now! Weather guys wrong? Wouldn't that be a stretch.
There are more people around here on the weekends so I'll stay away from my buck blinds projects for a couple of days. I guess the dock should go in today. I'm the dock guy. And if the dock goes in so does my 14 foot aluminum fishing boat. Of course that includes trolling motor and battery (can you say, hernia?) oars, boat seats, fish bag, anchor, rope and so on. But then on the bright side, nothing will bring rain faster than my boat sitting next to the dock. I'm the bail guy too.

I'm getting the Crappie feeling again. They should be spawning right about now. I see the fishermen from across the lake are out. I've seen them a couple of times. That's a pretty good indication the crappies are active. And seeing how I'll have the dock and boat already out ...

Of course when I think about it, I haven't got my fishing license yet, so I can't go fishing. And if I don't go fishing I don't need the boat. And what is a dock without a boat tied to it. I might as well leave it all on the bank. That leaves nothing to do but stock the frig and take a nap on the couch. Maybe I'll do all of that other stuff tomorrow. If it don't rain that is.

Hey, wait a minute. It's noon and all bets are off. It's raining cats and dogs. What did I say, apparently even the thought of putting in my boat will bring rain. But thank the good Lord as we really needed this rain.
Rain is the best chore dodge ever. Men have been using it to get out of chores around the house for 10,000 years. Grog the caveman claimed he couldn't hunt meat in the rain, or carry firewood, or even wash his wheel, (of course, besides descovering things like fire, early man also discovered that washing your wheel will actually bring rain). And since it was raining and none of the other cavemen were out working they would all walk miles through the rain to meet each other at the Country Cave and Club. The guys would all sit around a crackling fire, drinking cave brew, and grunting smart about everything under the Scary Ball Of Fire That Moves Across The Sky. Gee, somethings never change.

The rain stopped in late afternoon. My daughter Maggie and I went out in the woods and planted a small food plot, 20 yards by 20 yards. Now with more rain tomorrow and my plot will be off and blooming. I love the spring.

We also did some exploring through our little neck of the woods and found what I assume is an old deer hunting camp. Over the years I've found several of these. In this camp, like most, there were many rusted tin cans. But we also found two beautiful and intact bottles. They weren't beverage bottles. I've found many of those too. No, these bottles had cut glass and were more than beverage bottles. We washed them and they are like new. They've earned a place of honor in the Man's Room, my writing room, in my house. Maybe up on the fireplace mantle with grandpa's wonderful clock and many of my dad's woodcarvings.
I don't know about you but I think the deer hunter's spirit transcends time and life on earth. When I'm sitting alone in the woods on bow stand it seems like I can feel the presence, the spirits of all the hunters who ever sat on this ridge hunting big bucks. (Those olden day bucks are there too. It seems like you can get a glimse of a big buck moving ghost-like through the woods, but you can never quite get a good look at it.) From the number of old camps we've already unearthed there must have been many hunters and many deer over the years. It's the same feeling I got when we found those bottles. I guess, the buck hunter never really dies.