Outdoors – Page 6 – My Mainely Girl Adventures

Being a Woman of the Maine Outdoors

January 28, 2016May 3, 2021 staciwarren3 Comments

I have always loved being active in the outdoors and consider myself a Woman of the Maine Outdoors. I’m even a board member for a non-profit Women of the Maine Outdoors; yet winter has always been my least favorite season, and my least active season. Two reasons: I have asthma, and I detest being cold.

IMG_20151219_205224454 — Our new fireplace

It’s easy to stay inside where it’s warm, where there’s a movie and warm fireplace, where I always have housework to be done, where there’s laundry to keep up, a wood stove to fill, and home projects to get done. I avoid it all the rest of the year so I don’t know why I care now!

My usual outdoor cycle begins with fly fishing and camping activity in the spring even if there still are snowbanks to climb over. My knees get really sore from activities so I end up taking lots of ibuprofen and acetaminophen and do a lot of whining. Once bear season arrives in August, I hope I have enough wind to help haul buckets of bait. Bear season ends just in time for deer season when I hunt every single day I can because the knees don’t hurt as much, the asthma is under control, and I’ve built endurance to enjoy every minute. Then winter comes. I spend the majority of my time indoors.

First fishing of the season!

Snowshoeing with the boy

A snowmobile ride at Moosehead

Lugging bait buckets

In the last few years, I’ve been lucky to do a snowmobiling trip, maybe go snowshoeing once, get coerced into ice fishing once, and then I wait for spring. By spring, I’m completely out of shape and the mad cycle begins all over again. I’ve decided that if I’m to be someone who represents Woman of the Maine Outdoors, then I need to change!

In an effort to break the cycle, I’ve been getting outdoors this winter. Keeping my deer cameras out and allowing myself the time to get out into the woods has been the best thing I’ve done in years.

I go prepared with my new hunting fanny pack I got for Christmas. I bring along my inhaler, phone with camera, eye glasses and a compass just in case. I am finding new adventures and wildlife in the woods every time I go out! I’ve found more tracks of animals I never knew were there. I have fox, owls and deer on my game camera.

Coyote track

Something’s down there!

Not sure what this is.

Rabbit Track

For now I haven’t had to put on my snowshoes because the amount of snow has been minimal but walking in the snow is still giving me a good workout. We are giving the snowshoes a new coat of marine varnish to make them like new again for when the snow does finally arrive. It’s almost time for our annual ice fishing trip to Moosehead, and I’ll be getting out my one trap and hoping to catch that monster togue or brookie.

Actually, let’s be honest. I’ll be happy to get a flag.

Partridge perch…lots of poop. This one really likes this spot!

Waitinf for varnish to dry.

Flag..all I want to do is see a flag..JUST ONE

My first fish caught ice fishing

Maybe this weekend, I’ll get the chance to do some rabbit hunting or to try my luck at coyote hunting~I guess I better buy my licenses!

Whatever you do, take time for yourself with or without someone, and get out there~being a woman (or man) of the Maine outdoors begins with baby steps. If you don’t have private land, there are lots of trails for public use and you’ll be surprised what you can see…even in the city I’m told there’s some solitude in the woods. Hats off to my baby sister Wendi for “getting out there”.

Prize in the Snow

January 23, 2016January 26, 2016 staciwarren3 Comments

Saturday morning we headed out with high expectations that we’d go down to the stand, get on a new track and find not only the first dropped antler, but also find the second one that “must” have fallen off the following day. I was convinced they couldn’t be far from the game camera.

Disappointingly, there were no new deer sign or feedings on the camera or in the snow. The camera batteries died due to the cold so we weren’t 100% sure, but there didn’t appear to be any new tracks in the snow. A full moon the night before and our playing with coyote sounds near the stand probably didn’t help.

We began at the Christmas tree grain pile and decided on the “divide and conquer” technique. I stayed on one track and John on another covering the entire area and then moving onto a new section. I had visions of what it would be like to find it. A scream of excitement kept going through my mind. I dressed light and my Under Armour heat gear kept me warm and even when I still managed to sweat, I was comfortable trekking through the shin/knee deep snow.

I managed to see some pretty cool animal sign that wasn’t deer and wasn’t my antler. Smithfield is known for its boulders in the woods left from the glacier (yes Mr. Lagasse, I was listening in seventh grade) and the area we were covering is no different. Boulder after boulder to navigate around or over, I came upon three different trails where porcupine had come out of their wintering shelters. The porcupine left neat little trodden down trails through the snow and with careful looking, you could find where they had climbed and chewed the bark off a nearby tree.

IMG_20160123_102447791_TOP — Rabbit tracks and rabbit poop…(c) S. Warren

Given the amount of rabbit tracks one would think we were overrun with rabbits…I wish that was the case! I can’t wait to try rabbit hunting with Fly and John.

IMG_20160123_110754408 — One of three deer beds in a softwood growth. (c)S.Warren

resized JS Antler — Happy hunters! (c) SW

Three hours later, half a mile away from my tree stand, we finally find newer tracks. We find more deer beds and then we find the prize we’ve been looking for–the antler, the left antler that had fallen off January 21st. The look on our faces says it all. Now I’m determined to find the match. I’ll be back out tomorrow tracking the shed hoping for my prize.

My biggest surprise about the antler was to see how golden brown the base is. Having only seen the antlers on his head in nighttime photos, in my mind, I imagined they would be all pale and not brown. A very nice surprise!

You can still see the blood on the end of the antler where my buck dropped it. (c) S. Warren

Love seeing where he rubbed and wore his antler down during the rut. (c) S. Warren

Tracking the Shed

January 22, 2016 staciwarrenLeave a comment

Remember when I told you my deer lost his antler on the 21st of January last year? I’ve been anxiously watching the calendar trying to plan trips down to my stand, but between the cold, meetings, and getting home late from work, I haven’t been able to get to outside.

Before I made my trip down to the stand tonight, the last time I had been there was Monday, January 19th. I had the day off so I spent about three hours in the woods. The fresh coat of snow told me the deer hadn’t been there since I last put out food the day before. I hadn’t bothered with the chicken wire after one of my online friends told me I may be breaking the law with chicken wire SO…on her advice, I went natural and took my recently thrown out Christmas tree down in the woods, and plunked it right over the pile of grain. Thank goodness we got a smaller tree this year! Nothing for the deer to get tangled in but something that may help an antler fall right where I want it to fall.

There were deer tracks but not nearly like before…but any deer tracks get me excited. I exchanged out the memory card, refreshed the grain and beet crush, and John and I picked up our trash and headed in a big circle. I purchased a FoxPro predator caller for John at Christmas and we wanted to try it out. Having had a coyote howl one morning on my way into my stand, I got to realize how close it must have been. The eerie howling that comes from that machine is simply unbelievable. I’m hoping we’ll get a chance to try nighttime coyote hunting and actually get some out of our woods.

January 20th – Both antlers

January 21st- antler missing!!

Back home, I open my computer, put in the memory card and saw that my deer has lost an antler! We plan to go out first thing tomorrow morning to check the camera to see if he has dropped the other tonight. That’s right, my deer lost his antler last night, January 21st! I can’t believe he lost an antler the exact same day! So we’ll be out tracking the shed to see if we can find where he dropped it. I’m hoping we’re lucky enough to find the shed, but I know it won’t be as easy as it seems.

Waiting for the Antlers to Drop

January 10, 2016January 11, 2016 staciwarren1 Comment

With deer and moose season over and the winter coming into full swing, antler shed hunting has become a hobby for many hunters an IMG_20151214_193956511A d non-hunters alike. I myself have never found any shed antlers except for the pair of moose antlers John and I found one spring. They were a couple years old and we weren’t even hunting for shed antlers; we just sort of came across one then deliberately looked for the other one and actually found it. They adorn my bedroom walls along with John’s moose mount, bear mount and rug, my turkey fan and my college diploma. John has found several pairs of shed moose antlers and some deer antlers too. Our new fireplace also has a beautiful five pound brown trout John caught in high school and it’s mounted to a shed antler he found.

IMG_20160110_215437453 — Zack’s find: a perfect set. (c) S. Warren

Our son Zack found a freshly shed pair of antlers one sunny January day. We had a nice snowstorm so we took the kids sliding down the Bulldozed road as we call it. There right where we were sliding, John found a pair of newly shed antlers. The deer had dropped them right in the trail. The next day, Zack, who spent most of his childhood hiking the woods behind the house, came across a pair of 8-point sheds where one of my tree stands are now located. I’ve never seen a kid so excited! The following year, Zack found another pair that matched identically to the pair from the previous year. He never saw the deer in the woods but he always kept his treasured finds close at hand and hoped to find them again. He even found a shed so big that he made the Skull and Antler Club book for one of the largest sheds ever found in Maine that year. He still loves to shed hunt and does a lot in Downeast Maine.

Last year, I had a nice little buck coming and eating acorns where I have a tree stand. I had several pictures of him with his antlers. I never got a chance to shoot him, and only saw does all season. By chance, I left my game camera out longer than usual and when I finally went to retrieve it, I was delighted when I found all kinds of surprise pictures. My deer had been back so I put out some deer grain…and I managed to get the exact date he dropped his antlers…January 21, 2015.

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So after seeing that my little buck survived last year’s long harsh winter and seeing how awful and skinny he looked, I set out some grain to help him and any other deer that might need it.

PICT0096 — Skinny deer after long hard winter. (c) S. Warren

I didn’t use corn after I read that it’s too harsh for them to eat after a hard winter. Instead, I got deer grain with lots of nutrients and only put out a small pailful at a time so that they wouldn’t eat too much. Later in the spring, I got to see my little buck sprout his new antlers and watched him come back from time to time this fall looking for some acorns. Well, the acorn season was dismal and none of the deer hung around at all.

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However, he did return this winter after the deer season was over…of course. John and I rigged up some chicken wire and sticks and carefully placed some grain around the edge of it in hopes my little buck who’s not so little anymore, will come back for some eats, get his antlers tangled in the wire, and drop his antlers. He was really skiddish at first but he’s finally stepping into the v-shaped chicken wire….and so for now I’m waiting patiently for the antlers to drop.

Partridge, Songbirds and Owls, Oh My!

January 1, 2016January 1, 2016 staciwarren1 Comment

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When I first started hunting, I didn’t seem to see much ‘extra’ wildlife other than the gray squirrels, chickadees, finches and blue jays. As I became a better hunter, or perhaps because I spent more time in the woods, I have been able to reap the benefits of seeing ‘extra’ wildlife, which is simply those I don’t expect to see and am not hunting for. My first encounter was having a gray squirrel climb the tree I was sitting in and actually come around and almost climb onto me. I don’t freak out easily, but I didn’t want that thing muckling onto my ear or scratching my face in “self-defense”. One good swat and he left, but with plenty to say too. So much for that morning. Trying to be quiet and shoo off an unwanted guest is not easy.

IMG_20150925_170223311 — Partridge under my bear tree stand. (c) S. Warren

I’ve seen more than my share of partridge while deer hunting. The temptation to shoot off the rifle to score some birds has more than once crossed my mind. Sitting during bear season this year, I tried to video with my phone, a clutch of partridge making their way across the forest floor. There were at least four of them parading around my bear bait site…and me trying not to move. They walked right past me and never knew I was there.

I saw my very first cardinal while sitting in a tree stand. I was so excited, I had all I could to hold it in. It was extremely cold that morning. I heard it land on a fir tree behind me. There is fluttered its wings which is what got me to turn my head. It still as vivid in my mind as if it happened yesterday.

nuthatch — Nuthatch with an attitude. The only bird that can walk down a tree face first because of their unique claws.

Most of the time songbirds are just interesting to watch. They scurry about, doing their thing looking for food. Occasionally they’ll land so close that you think they don’t see you. So when a nuthatch decided to attack me in the bear stand this season, this was the LAST thing I expected it to do. It was persistent (which is supposed to be a virtue) in charging at me from the branch above and wouldn’t stop beeping at me…or whatever you call it…and I really think it was mad. I felt like it had bullied me, but I hadn’t done anything to provoke it. I was just sitting there trying to be quiet! At first I tried to ignore it. When it wouldn’t go away, I tried to video it with my phone, but I only managed to record the vocal attack…wah, wah, wah…as it hopped from branch to branch.

One of my favorite birds to see are owls. Owls to me are so majestic and no matter when I hear them, it makes me stop and smile. My very first owl that I ever saw was when I was walking out of the woods at dark. A Great Horned owl landed on a bent over birch. It’s wings spanned the path lit by the moon. It reminded me of a Halloween full moon scene. It’s silhouette is still burned in my memory.

Seeing owls in action is when it gets really interesting. Sitting in my tree stand one morning, I watched as a red squirrel chit and chatted its way around the giant spruce in front of me. Out of nowhere and without a sound, an Eastern Screech owl flew in and landed on a branch. He was rust colored, only about eight inches tall. Spotting the red squirrel, the owl began chasing after the squirrel as it moved in spirals around the tree trunk up and down while avoiding capture. The owl hopped from limb to limb and was no match for the squirrel’s speed. The owl eventually gave up and flew away.

My first bear season, I was visited several times by a Barred Owl. See how well he blends in with the birch tree! The bait area was populated by mice, chipmunks, red squirrels that at times never seemed to shut up. This drew in my Barred Owl who not only looked for his next meal, but also I got to see him get it. He patiently made his way down to lower branches on neighboring trees watching the chipmunks screech at him running back forth instead of running hiding. You’d think they’d be scared and run for cover…but nope and the owl eventually pounced on his meal.

I must also mention that my friend Erin and I took a fishing trip and came upon these two Great Horned fledglings this past summer. I’m looking forward to more girl time and teaching my friend how to fly fish next summer.

My game camera gave me an unexpected surprise. I’ve had a lot of different animals on it this season, but never an owl until this. I’m not sure if it’s a squirrel or the flying squirrel that I had on several photos, but it didn’t see the owl coming at all. Nature at work, and that’s the kind of hunter I want to be- delivering a quick death to my prey. Perhaps that’s why I like owls so much.

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Skunked by the Deer

December 22, 2015December 22, 2015 staciwarren1 Comment

Well, first of all I have to apologize for being so delinquent in my posts. The rest of deer hunting season followed by muzzle loader season and then the renovations among holiday preparations have taken their toll. I am behind, and in more than my blog, and Christmas is only three days away. I haven’t wrapped a gift or baked a cookie. However, my new fireplace and living room look and feel fantastic! I’m extremely proud of our work and can’t believe we got so much accomplished with our crazy schedules.

However, I’ve learned to adapt and life moves on whether we’re ready or not so why not just go with it and not fret over it. I can’t change it, and in fact, I wouldn’t change any of my life for the last year. I fully love my life and the chaos that comes with it. With each change and event, we grow as people… as hunters, parents, and human beings.

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So, despite the fact that my six point buck returned at night only just before the season ended, I was happy to know he’s still around. I hunted him hard, but he outsmarted me. I jumped him numerous times in different spots but never got a shot because it was always too dark. The last time I jumped him was the last night of rifle season by my Buddy stand. I heard that familiar deer running sound, but couldn’t spot him. I pulled up my gun and looked through my scope hard. Nothing. I thought he had run off, but three more steps and I heard him again…heading towards my other stand. He never blew and just pounced away. I did see his his tail, the beautiful white tail flipping the bird and laughing as he pranced away. I could have taken a shot, but in reality…I say ‘he’, but I didn’t see antlers so it may very well have been another doe, and I couldn’t take that chance.

Muzzle loader season only produced more does, and without a doe tag the best I could do was take a picture. Although I hunted every day except for one, I came up empty handed. I’m pretty hardcore, and can tolerate a lot, but when rain poured down on me as soon as I headed into the woods, I turned around and came right back in. Rain and black powder guns don’t mix well even when they’re modern, and I wasn’t prepared to sit in the rain only to get wet.

IMG_20151123_080428846 John got a nice buck so we’re not meatless this winter, and we won’t totally break the piggy bank buying meat. I’m counting on rabbit hunting to bring in some more. We’re totally in love with our rabbit pot pies and I have a freezer full of them for winter.

We’ll be ice fishing soon, but other than our trip to Moosehead Lake in February, I’m not much of a participant. It’s hard to believe that as much as I love fly fishing and fishing in general, that I would be so apathetic about ice fishing. It may have something to do with the bone chilling cold, freezing cold wind and water on my hands, and not liking thin ice that has me thinking there’s got to be something more fun to do in the winter. I used to ski until my knees wouldn’t let me any longer. I like to ice skate, but I suck at ice skating–and rollerskating for that matter. I broke my wrist roller skating so I’ve been banned from any skating all together. I have snowshoes, so when the snow finally falls, I’ll probably try snowshoeing where I hunt so I can get some exercise.

Winter is the toughest time for this outdoor girl since I don’t like being cold and my asthma is at its worst. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not ready to give up. I’m not going to dwell on 2015 and beat myself up for not accomplishing what I set out to do….it’s not like I didn’t try….The bear and deer may have skunked me for 2015, but 2016 will be different in many ways…and I’m only beginning.

I’m not one to make resolutions so I won’t even go there. I started a healthy lose weight program before I saw my Miss Maine Sportsman calendar photos which would have pushed me over the edge much sooner…and I’ve lost 16 pounds…but I have much more to lose before next spring when I cast my fly again and my WISH is to be considerably smaller by spring. My other wishes: to take a trapping course so I can trap with John next fall, shoot my first bear, snag another moose permit, and shoot my first deer with my bow.

I sure do miss fly fishing…and now my wishes are answered…. I just read that since there is no ice and it’s been so warm, that open water season has been extended but few fisherman are taking advantage…Well, damn it. No one told me! Perhaps I can convince John to take me to the river. The water may be cold, but my waders will keep me dry and warm. Perhaps I should be wearing my waders ice fishing?

Whatever your 2016 holds, I hope you’ll get out into the outdoors. Try new things, face new challenges…and never, ever, give up, especially when it comes to mice….I’m up to 15 and I have resorted to using pink mint marshmallows as bait.

Three Dead Mice…

December 2, 2015December 2, 2015 staciwarrenLeave a comment

I know, I know, I’ve been too long making a post. I’ve been a busy girl. I’m a true Mainer; I work all day, hunt, fish and work in between on weekends.

Since opening day, I’ve been hunting every morning and afternoon I possibly can, and while doing that my husband and I decided to tackle our biggest ever DIY project: a massive full wood burning fireplace with natural stone veneer. Our stove pipe took forever to arrive which is why were were delayed in starting the project sooner. With the weather clock now ticking, we went for it hoping Mother Nature would be kind long enough for us to mortar before winter arrived.

IMG_20151029_195545678 — Halloween 2015, Big Buck, Scrapper and Mega Moose

Just before we began the project, we carved our Halloween pumpkins and readied for the kids that never come to the house anymore. I had purchased an enormous amount of candy for Halloween, but in an attempt to not reach for a miniature every time I saw it, I put the bowl of candy in the pantry. It worked; I never touched the candy again.

A couple days later, the light in my pantry burned out. So I replaced the bulb. It still didn’t’ work. I went to Home Depot and purchased an LED light to replace the other. I installed it, put in another light bulb and wouldn’t you know, the light didn’t work. Not getting frustrated, I then turned to the switch. I went back to Home Depot, bought a new switch, replaced and you guessed it, the light still doesn’t work. Figuring that I did something wrong when I installed the new fixtures, I decided to wait until the weekend to deal with it…right.

Halloween arrived and as usual, I wasn’t back from hunting so my son Ty answered the door, reached for the bowl of candy and handed some out. When I finally got home, informed me that we had mice because there were mouse droppings in the bowl.

I didn’t believe it; we have a full basement, good doors…no way. We’ve only had mice once before when the cellar door got left open after we threw wood and A..ONE mouse got in, which we promptly caught. But yup, Ty was right. We had mice and they were in the pantry…double gross I know. I’m thinking two or three mice maximum…right.

IMG_20151114_090718533 So I went to catching the mice. I set out the common yellow mouse traps that are pretty tricky to set up and you must make sure your fingers are out of the way when you set them. A little peanut butter bait and voila…how could they resist? It worked! It worked until the trap was worn out and wouldn’t hold up my peanut butter. So I resorted to buying a new fangled trap from Victor…the same maker as the yellow one. I immediately catch mouse two and three. I tweet about my catches. Victor (the mouse trap company) begins to follow me on Twitter. I am feeling pretty accomplished and thinking I need to blog about this! I’m baiting for mice…just like bear, but having WAY more luck than I did bear hunting. I’ll call it Three Dead Mice…lol…I then go to the grocery store to buy more Snickers…because the mice LOVE Snickers.

IMG_20151120_061523547 By the way, I’m not laughing any more and I still haven’t blogged. As I wake in the morning to find mouse number 5 caught on his hind leg, I am concerned. He looks dead. He’s not moving…He’s dead. I go to show John my catch. As I stretch out my arm to show him the mouse, it moves. It moves! I let a yelp out because I don’t want the mouse to get loose. I put the bowl, mouse and candy on the deck. John says it’s got to die. He goes to kill it. As he picks up the mouse trap, we both see that the mouse was never caught. He was just napping after eating so much candy. The tire iron did the trick. No. 5 down.

As of this morning I am up to ELEVEN. Number 10, I named Houdini since it took four tries to catch him. I hoping I’m at the end. The last one was considerably smaller. The pantry light still isn’t fixed, but I have a sneaking suspicion it’s something to do with the mice, which might also explain the ungodly smell we had coming from our refrigerator about the time this all started happening. We emptied the refrigerator, and finally threw out the only thing we had left: worms which we assumed must be the cause. I am told no, mice stink worse than anything. Oh joy. I’ll keep you posted on my count.

We’re at the end of our project. We were able to complete the outside with a little help from Mother Nature and a couple 50 degree days. All the mortar and grout outside has now cured and is a lovely gray. My fingers may take a while to recover, but damn we’re good. Just finishing up inside but we’re not done. I bought new flooring…and I’m muzzleloader hunting….it’s gonna be a busy weekend!

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Deer Season Begins!

November 11, 2015November 11, 2015 staciwarren1 Comment

IMG_20151108_164443021 — Fireplace chase half skim coated for rock to be applied after. (c) S. Warren

Deer season began as it always does; a bunch of promising game photos, a night of no sleep, and excitement that I’ll be successful. This year’s season also includes us trying to do a DIY project involving installing a fireplace, applying mortar and stone to the outside, and getting it all done before the cold really hits and somehow making it work around the hunting season. We’re doing well, but we still have a lot to do.

IMG_20151109_062327134 — View from My Stand (c) S. Warren

I usually sit in My Stand right behind the house. This works for getting out and hunting each morning prior to my heading to work. It’s quick to get to and to get back. In past years, I’ve had some pretty awesome moments, and I expected to hear the deer in their travels as I always have. This year’s acorn crop is pretty small. I had hoped that my acorn stand would yield more deer this year because a nearby woodlot was cut making the oaks less abundant. Unfortunately, it’s not looking very good.

For the first time ever, I’m changing up my sitting spots. I have four spots: My Stand, the Robin Stand, the Buddy Stand, the New Stand, and a couple more options: the duck blind spot and the Tall Hemlock. The Robin stand is half way between my stand and the Buddy stand. Last year, I saw five does in this stand. We moved it so that I could see more and have more cover. I haven’t sat there yet because I need to add some foam to the rails to make it quiet and I just haven’t had time.

The Buddy stand is just that. It’s a double stand in an area that’s big and wide. This is the stand I was in on last year’s final day of muzzleloader season when Mr. Buck showed me a glimpse of his leg before hightailing it out of there. The one and only deer I’ve seen in that stand. I’ve played and replayed that day in my mind for the last year, hoping that Mr. Buck would still like to hang out and make some buck rubs and give me another shot at getting him. Things have been awfully quiet for me to believe he’s still around.

The New Stand is in a spot that takes me thirty minutes to get to, so it’s not feasible for weekday hunts unless it’s a holiday or vacation day. It’s not that far away, but walking into a stand in the still morning requires every step to be intentional and methodically placed so that you don’t break or snap a twig, so that the leaves done crunch, so that you don’t land on your face by tripping over the long grass, so that you get in undetected, and that’s not always easy. The stand sits on the edge of oaks and a dark softwood growth. Lots of deer sign and buck scrapes but it feels pretty dead most of the time…except when I least expect it.

I’ve been chasing deer in the area since I started hunting. The elusive big buck that I either jump or get busted yet never see. And this would be the case this year. My first time to the new stand that John put up for me. I usually go with him, but this day, we were going separate ways to get more done. Since my stand was pretty dead, I decided to try out the “new stand. John’s words exactly, ” Go straight, don’t turn right and it will be on your right. You’ll have NO problem finding it.” Now I know this neck of the woods, but after forty-five minutes of roaming around checking out every off shoot road, I finally found it. In fact, I stumbled upon it and then wondered if I’d be able to find my way out at dark. By then, I was a wash of sweat, possibly the result of cursing for the last hour. I had overdressed for that much walking, but was relieved to finally find my stand.

IMG_20151106_072633647 — Buck scrape (c) S. Warren

I wasn’t in my stand five minutes when I thought I heard a deer blow…which means it smelled me. I was busted. I heard the deer bound away. Legal shooting hours ended and I managed to find my way out. I was glad I had my flashlight because although I consider this a morning stand so I was surprised to hear a deer in the late afternoon. I have learned to be more comfortable in the woods, I have no intentions of getting lost.

This morning I had the opportunity to sit later due to the holidaym so I headed back down to the New Stand. Due to a back injury flare up from working on the DIY project, I hadn’t had a chance to hunt in two days so I was hoping my sciatica wouldn’t start in once I sat down. I quietly made my way down to stand. I managed to leave later than I wanted so by the time I was half way there, it was already starting to get light, but wasn’t close to legal shooting hours yet. I shut off my flashlight since I’ve memorized this trail and know where to step.

As I made my way toward my stand, I think I hear a grunt…a deer grunt…a BUCK grunt…Brrrr. I question whether I really heard what I think I’ve heard. Afterall, I have an uncanny way of hearing things that sound like a deer walking in the woods, but it ends up being a squirrel or falling leaves. So I doubt myself. Rule number one: never doubt yourself!

I take one more step and then I hear it. A deer blows and all I see is a white tail VERY close to me. The wind is blowing in my favor. I was too close for him to smell me; he just heard me and reacted. Between me and Mr. Buck is a really large boulder. This is concealing me from him, and him from me, not to mention it’s still too dark to shoot. I can’t pick him up in my scope. I scan the woods knowing he isn’t very far way…maybe 25 yards. I decide I’ll make my way to the boulder for a chance to sneak up on him. I duck and take one step. He blows, stomps his feet and blows a couple more times. In an effort to have him want to stick around, I blow a Brrr on my buck grunt. He gets incredibly upset and wheezes and snorts three or four more turns. I in turn stomp my foot as he was doing to me. It’s a stand off, but it’s still dark. If only can get him to step my way. He continues to blow and then without any other warning, runs away from me…gone forever. I just pray I don’t hear a sudden shot from someone lucking out on My Buck.

I had a blast, but as always I analyze, reanalyze, and then shoulda, woulda, coulda scenarios run through my head. In the end, I am learning and experiencing things I never thought possible. I’ve seen a porcupine in a tree, an owl trying to catch squirrels at daylight, partridge walking around, ducks and geese flying overhead. I hear screech owls howling, loons calling and of course squirrels…lots and lots of those dang red and gray squirrels. And not once have I been afraid to be alone in the woods, and that’s my biggest and proudest moment thus far.

I hope I’ll eventually see a deer that I can harvest. Time is ticking but in the meantime, I’m enjoying every minute I’m out there. Lots of exercise and experiencing lots of exciting moments. After all, it’s the adventures you have in the process that make hunting so rewarding.

Happy Hunting!

Bird Hunting in the North Maine Woods – Part II

November 5, 2015November 5, 2015 staciwarrenLeave a comment

IMG_20151011_175339428 — Nice campfire for night #2. (c) Staci Warren

We took each road we came to, and one of many came to a dead end, and it’s there where we found the remains of a very fat recently harvested bear, and about forty grouse carcasses. Well no wonder we weren’t seeing any birds–someone shot them all…as for the bear…pure envy that someone got a bear. However, the bear wasn’t field dressed; it was caped. It was left with no hind legs, no head and the front paws cut off at the wrists. This means, they didn’t take the front quarters or the tenderloins or neck meat. We were thinking what a waste to see such a prize not fully utilized. On our way back to camp the following day, we stopped into the locally owned store that is the only tagging station in the area. He was surprised when we told him about the bear. He hadn’t tagged a bear and because it wasn’t field dressed and legs were left, the store owner suspected that the bear was poached. Now I was mad. I was mad because of the bear. I was mad because the birds we saw were probably also poached. We reported our find to the game wardens but never heard whether or not they followed up. And that annoyed me.

It was cold and windy, but sunny…not the greatest for grouse hunting but we were still optimistic. When we FINALLY saw a bird, it was Ty’s turn to take a shot. He missed. Then he became the “Unhappy Hunter”. Loads of candy bars to keep us thinking about the lack of birds could only last for so long. Bird Utopia was looking sort of bleak.

IMG_20151012_091427625 — Ty with his bird. (c) Staci Warren

As luck seemed to be on our side, a few minutes later, we take another road, and Bam!…another bird! The bird is standing in the middle of the road. It’s a big one. My turn…I miss too! Seriously, I never miss!! I am bummed and not liking my new gun, because “I obviously know how to shoot.” A total blow to my ego. We spot another bird down another road. It’s John’s turn…I kid you not. The bird fly away before he can take a shot. In fact two birds take off. Things were not looking good. Things started to look up when Tyler scored on his next turn. Finally we had a bird for the hours of driving. “Unhappy Hunter” is now “Happy Hunter” telling Mom and Dad how to do it. Fun times for us all.

IMG_20151011_172311425 — Fossil of a shell. (c) S. Warren

Back at camp, we shot our guns and built a fire. I discover that my new gun shoots differently than John’s, which I had always used. I took a little time and scored another fossil for my collection. We spend the night having a great meal and conversation and head to bed…by a whopping 8:30. We were exhausted.

Sunday, we headed to Houlton to eat at the famous Grammy’s Country Inn…yummie and huge portions. John and I split a seafood platter…I would have loved to try one of the gigantic Whoopie pies, but I refrained. The amount of Halloween candy consumed on this trip was enough to tell me I had had enough. We did manage to buy some Maine potatoes that were being sold on the side of the road in Monticello. I also got to see the Mars Hill windmills…I don’t know what all the moaning is about; I find them interesting.

IMG_20151012_113533877 — First bird with my new shotgun. (c) S. Warren

Monday, the sun finally came out in full force with no clouds. We could only hunt half a day because of the long ride home. We hit the road early and in no time had two birds in the truck. Everyone had gotten a bird! Hooray!

IMG_20151012_130047131 — Crown coral mushroom (c) S. Warren

After packing up and heading out to leave, I manage to spot a beautiful Crown coral mushroom right next to the road. It’s edible and one of my friend’s favorites. I have yet to convince my family to try any of the mushrooms I’ve found.

So, this was our last trip to Bird Utopia. What we spent in gas and time to drive to get there, and the cost of camping, we could have had the same accommodations for $30 in Greenville…or for $0 at the Big Eddy….or the same amount of money for two nights at Tomhegan Camps. It was a great time, and I’m glad we did it, but time is too precious to be spending it in the truck when you could be hunting for the birds. I guess we didn’t find Bird Utopia, and this just proves that the hunting isn’t always better elsewhere…What does matter is that we had a great time as a family doing what we love, and after all…we all want Happy Hunting.

PS…We saw no bear. I don’t know what I was thinking. I really could have used the space that rifle took up in the truck.

Bird Hunting in the North Maine Woods – Part I

November 3, 2015November 3, 2015 staciwarren1 Comment

IMG_20151010_141650938 — Foliage was at peak or almost peak. Beautiful once the sun shined. (c) S. Warren

Each October we put away our fly rods and pick up the shotguns to go bird hunting. This year, we took a leaf peeping trip to New Hampshire with our grandchildren, and saved the bird hunt for the second week of October with hopes of there being less hunters in the woods. Since bear season was a bust, we really wanted to get some partridge for our freezer.

The past three years, we’ve camped at Lily Bay State Park for $10 per night. Not bad for $30 and with that fee we get warm showers and a private campsite, but the bird hunting hasn’t been outstanding so we thought perhaps we’d take the plunge and “go North” to Bird Utopia.

Each year, our oldest son and son-in-law go on an all-boy excursion with a bunch of their friends to Ashland, a.k.a. Bird Utopia in the North Maine Woods. That’s northern Maine to us…way north; about four plus hours north to be exact. And each year they come home boasting about the number of birds they get, and that they get their limits every day. We get bird envy every time.

To make this more believable, we camped in the North Maine Woods in 2012 for Zack’s moose hunt. Each morning, we watched four grouse strut around in the campsite while we just watched because we were there for the September moose hunt and bird season hadn’t begun yet.

With high hopes of having a banner three day weekend, we packed up the camper, guns, and food and headed north to Bird Utopia. The forecast for Columbus Day weekend was supposed to be textbook gorgeously sunny with a fall chill, but with a passing overnight shower in the “far north”. I even brought a rifle “just in case” we saw a bear.

We arrived in the North Maine Woods just in time for the rain…and the mud. We had to four-wheel drive into the gate because a recent road repair had compromised the firmness and we literally didn’t know if we’d get our camper through the section of road without ripping off something. After paying $153.00 at the gate for our three days of camping and daily use fees, we set up in the rain. It poured. It was cold and damp. Luckily the heater ran all night. We camped in Russell Stream Crossing off of the Realty Road. You can find it on Google Earth. A beauty of a site with the Russell Stream running behind it. We even had a new privy to use.

IMG_20151010_171211461 — One of my mushrooms later identified as Catathelasma ventricosum, but I’m not so sure. (c) S. Warren

The following morning it was cold enough that ice formed in the puddles. We got up before sunrise, made coffee, packed the truck and headed out for a day of hunting on muddy gross roads. We saw some beautiful foliage, but hardly any wildlife besides an owl. We rode for hours and saw nothing for partridge. I was beginning to think I couldn’t spot one. We parked the truck and walked in poplar and birch stands with no luck. John and I score some really cool mushrooms. I am convinced they are edible. They look like giant white mushrooms we buy in the store…and they smell like mushrooms. I can’t wait to share my find! Finding such unique mushrooms were my saving grace to not seeing any birds. I figured if I can spot mushrooms, then I certainly can see a bird.

Learning to Archery Hunt-Patience and Persistance Revisited

October 22, 2015October 23, 2015 staciwarren2 Comments

parker bow — This is what my bow looks like.

ZackPibold — My oldest son’s pibold, taken with a bow. (c) S. Warren

In order to evolve as a hunter, I’ve taken on the task of learning how to bow hunt. I am the only one in the family who hadn’t tried bow hunting, because I didn’t have a bow…until my youngest son dropped over $800 on a new one. I inherited the grow-with-you Parker bow that we had bought him for Christmas a few years ago. I am fine with that since I am cheap, and a tune up is definitely cheaper than a new bow. After finally getting a proper fitting and a tune up at L.L.Bean, my bow is now officially ready to use to hunt.My dream is to get a buck. A big one…maybe even a pibold like the one my son got a few years ago.

I was thinking this was going to be easy-peasy-deer-in-the-pot, but I soon found out that couldn’t be further from the truth. Reality check in process!

I know your’e thinking, “Can this girl even hit the target?” Yes, I can hit the target, and given the chance, I might actually be able to take a deer with it. I bought some broad head points for a lethal shot, and lighted knocks so that I can find my arrow after I shoot it, if I ever get to take aim. On my first trip out, I was very optimistic and thought I’d have a deer in no time.

After spending so much time bear hunting in ‘real” wilderness, hunting behind the house is painful, but it’s helping me adjust to the noise in case I do go to the city. I really do live in the country, but I also live along two major routes that intersect at the bottom of the hill..oh yay…cars, trucks, motorcycles, dump trucks, tractor trailer trucks…all going by. Add wind, rattling leaves, barking dogs, construction, mowers and you have the idea. I even bought the Expanded Archery license in case I need to go hunt in the city for a deer where I can harvest a doe and still be able to harvest a buck behind the house. The benefit of the expanded archery season is that it goes until December 31st, past the last Saturday in the November of the rifle season and it’s a two week extension into muzzleloader season. I’ve shot deer with a muzzleloader in the past, but if all else fails I’ll be hunting in the city. My plan is to have some deer meat in the freezer this year one way or another!

Hunting with a bow is much more challenging than I realized it would be. It’s not the bow itself, but all the gadgets, and the odd shaped size that turns my stealthy walk into my stand into a clumsy wobble into my stand. I think I managed to catch every stick, limb, fern and leaf possible with the cams of the bow in my travels. Trying to climb into my stand with a bow in my hand is stupid to say the least. Yes, I tried it, and I made more noise than I thought possible..and it was daylight! I can’t ever imagine trying this in the dark before daylight.

BowRelease — My new release to pull the string on my bow. It folds back to be “out of the way” which is a total advertising lie. It’s still very much attached to my wrist and makes noise no matter how I fold it.

Note to self: You can put the release on after you get in the stand so it doesn’t clink every rail of the ladder as you climb. My stand is hid among a bunch of fir, hemlock and spruce…with lots of branches that now need to be cut so I can use a rope to pull my bow up the proper way…and that darned quiver (arrow holder) is noisy too, so off that comes, but where to put it? The last thing I want is to drop that with my arrows, so I also need to put up a bow holder…and I have to fix my shooting lanes because I have none for a bow shot. My setup works for the rifle, but I need much more space to shoot a bow.

One of my main problems is that my bow hunting pants and shirt don’t offer up enough pockets for all my junk I tote along for the hunt, and I can’t throw a bow over my shoulder like my rifle. I have to have my windicator spray, deer scent and container, buck grunt, doe bleat, flashlight, phone, and on colder nights, I also need gloves, a neck warmer and a hat..and one pocket on my pants just doesn’t cut it. I have a backpack to bring, but that’s too noisy for mornings…SO I’m back to trying to store everything in my camo jacket liner.

buck grunt — Buck grunt to mimic bucks in rut.

doe bleat — Doe bleat to mimic does in heat. Calls in bucks. Anti roll edges which is new and very important…nothing to roll off the treestand.

If you’ve ever hunted in the morning, sound is amplified ten times more than in the middle of the day. Every leaf crunches, every movement makes noise, and every breath, every pulse seems to be there for you–and deer to hear…and that means every little bump, clink, swish of a leaf can be heard.

So, for now, I’ll keep you posted on my progress. I’ll need lots of persistence to get thru this clumsy phase. I’ll need lots of patience for the noise I have to contend with as I sit for what seems like hours in my treestand. There will probably be more stories of my being busted due to my clumsiness than deer success…and I will most likely switch back to my rifle in a couple weeks. For now, I’ll make sure I use my harness and hope for the best and enjoy the sit before it gets too dark and cold.

After all, it’s the adventures in the process, not just the harvest.

Preserving Maine Wilderness

October 13, 2015October 13, 2015 staciwarren1 Comment

IMG_20150926_122138814-ANIMATION — Just a small portion of the crappy road that we travel…just not at 60 mph. (c) S. Warren

It’s not often that I plan a gripe session in my blog, but this week I am compelled to gripe a little. We’ve been extremely fortunate to be given landowner permission to hunt on land an hour and a half from home. Getting there has always been half the adventure. A good portion of the road is crappy (I mean 25 mph and you’re still cringing crappy) and it needs to be repaired. We make bets on how many moose, rabbit, deer, and other wildlife we may see on our journey. The crappy road slows us down considerably to get there. But once there, it’s always been our “little piece of wilderness”. The joy of hunting remotely is the feeling that no one else is there–complete solitude. You can totally engage your thoughts in what you’re doing and unplug from the world. For me it’s a good time to cleanse the mind and enjoy the experience of being there without listening to cars, dogs, screaming kids, blaring music, or dump trucks to name a few.

In the last couple of years, we’ve seen a huge increase in the number of vehicles traveling this route. They are adorned with kayaks, canoes and bicycles..in-state vehicles too, but mostly out-of-state cars, driving like freaking mad men and women to get to their pseudo-wild destination that an organization has advertised heavily in a Maine-focused magazine that’s marketed towards the not-so-average-Mainer, but more so for the upper middle class New England Urbanites that want to “unplug” for a weekend. I’ve seen them drive the crappy road as if it was a super highway; driving at high rates of speed, passing on corners, passing on hills, and tailgating just to get to “their” spot. A number of times, we’ve simply pulled over to let them by because they won’t pass but insist on tailgating.

We’ve seen a ten-fold increase in bicyclists, despite the fact that this road is narrow, has no breakdown lanes, no bike lanes, and has hill after hill, and has blind spots throughout scattered with washouts and broken pavement. I’ve even encountered “skiers” on rolling skies who think nothing of tucking down the middle of the road and won’t get over to let you by, or who stop right in the middle of the road to chat with fellow “skiers” without so much as an eye blink when you look at them in disbelief for their inconsideration.

I’ve also noticed that this is the first summer that we didn’t see the number of moose we’re accustomed to seeing in our commute. In fact, we barely saw any wildlife all summer. We saw one moose in May (pictured above), and didn’t see another one until the very last week of September. This is more than disturbing. And I don’t think it’s a tick problem because I’ve never seen a moose in that condition in this area.

IMG_20150801_160519272 — Mowed road…seriously?! (c) S. Warren

This influx of tourists….are putting a real damper on little my piece of wilderness experience! They trample paths made accessible by the organization who’s chopped, mowed, and excavated because the trail can’t be too hard for the tourists to hike…and then the organization creates a “world class” bike trail..a trail that potentially crosses through where game travels, across water flows, wet areas, and in order to do so hack a path through the woods..oh yeah, and they nail their signs all along the road onto living trees that they don’t own. The tourists also like to yell and hoot as they enjoy their bike ride, not caring if anyone else may be bothered by it–yet it interferes with my solitude. So much for “leave no trace”.

Only once have we encountered someone face to face since we make an effort to avoid them at all cost–and what did they do? They pitched a tent IN – THE- M I D D L E of the traveled road/trail where camping isn’t even supposed to happen, and they did it all without hesitation, but instead with a sense of pride and entitlement and they with only the best-of-the-best gear that money can buy as if that somehow makes them outdoorsmen/women.Their response when we told them they can’t tent just anywhere…”We’ve done this for twenty years.”…BULL CRAP! this trail hasn’t been here that long! They acted as if we were the ones that were encroaching on their wilderness space. It may have had something to do with one of them hanging out naked by the tent, but I really don’t care. News flash back-to-nature dudes…just because you can hike on it, doesn’t mean you have the right to camp on it, cook on it, or poop on it! Is that so hard to understand? We have access to the same land, and under no circumstances would we feel as though we have a right to bring in our camper or tent and pitch it for the weekend. We have more respect for the landowner than to do that!! We have more respect for others that use this piece of land. No one even knows we’re there when we’re there, and when we leave, we leave no trace.

Don’t get me wrong. I cherish access. Access is critical to the enjoyment of Maine and what it has to offer, and we are extremely grateful for the access we’ve been given. What I do have a problem with is the commercialization of that cherished access that is threatening the Maine wilderness experience for a lot of us.

I can only wonder how many animals were missed seeing or barely avoided being hit because people were driving so fast. I can only wonder how much further north I’ll have to go in a few years to find my piece of wilderness if this continues. I can only wonder how wildlife is being affected by all this traffic and all these tourists. I can only wonder if this is a snapshot of what it would be like for the people of Mt. Katahdin area….their wilderness being sucked up, trampled on, and used without real appreciation by tourists…I can only wonder.

Maybe perhaps Acadia National Park, Baxter State Park and the Appalachian Trail provide enough commercialized abuse for Maine’s wilderness. Perhaps we don’t need to sell off our wilderness experience with yet another national park. I truly hope we don’t if this is a sign of what could or may be.

Bear Season Ends and All I Get Are Moons

October 6, 2015October 8, 2015 staciwarrenLeave a comment

I_00020 — Scrapper giving us the Full Moon. Notice you can’t even see the barrel. (c) S. Warren

Bear season ended pretty quietly. The bear never came back until two nights before the baiting season closed. The temps were low, the weather good and sunny during the day, and I sat hoping to see the bear. Any bear. After all, I had plenty of bear on my site at night. The Cuddeback camera failed again and although we knew there was a bear there the night before, we had no pictures to verify the time. The final night revealed just how big Scrapper is, and he topped it off with a proverbial moon of his own, as if to be laughing at me as he finished off the sticky nougat. A younger bear showed up at 6 am in the morning on the last day to get a few bites before the big guy came back that night. The only reason we know this is because we took our cameras down the last day so when we went back to remove our stands, all the bait was eaten. Makes clean up easier…but then again…we’re not done! Scrapper hasn’t won yet. We were amazed to see the exact tracks Scrapper took to come into the bait…they walk in the same tracks every time they come into a bait site. Perfect impressions in the forest floor and mud tracks to show just how big he really is. This will be a challenge and we may not be successful, but it will be another new adventure.

I_00056 — Nice sized bear. Note the nice perfect ears…not Scrapper. (c) S. Warren

Trapping bears, which we’ve never done, ends October 31st. John trapped for many years but hadn’t found the time to keep doing it. With a few papers signed and notarized and all permits purchased, John is now a licensed trapper, and he’s going to try to trap Scrapper. I can’t trap because I have never held a license before, and an apprentice license can only be obtained if you trap with someone who’s trapped for the last three years…so at this point I will be an observer. Hopefully it will be exciting!

So bear season for me ended. However, I got to see the Blood Moon, lunar eclipse and super moon whatever you want to call it…I loved it…and I even got to see a few shooting stars as I watched the lunar eclipse unfold.

In my frenzied moments of anxiety when no bears present, I also spent a good portion of the season investigating Maine mushrooms. This is new field of study for me, yet I find it entirely fascinating. It’s a lot like searching for fossils. Identification and the satisfaction in finding a species that you can actually eat makes the finds seem like treasures. As it turned out, my backyard yielded many lobster mushrooms, which I am trying to figure out how to freeze for future uses in my rabbit, partridge, and just maybe bear dishes. I can’t wait to find others that I’ve only read about but haven’t managed to find yet. Onto my next adventures…bow hunting!

IMG_20150923_065856640 — Lobster Mushrooms…yes they are edible! I found all of mine under oaks. (c) S. Warren

Final Week of Bear Hunting – Countdowns Are Hard!

September 24, 2015September 25, 2015 staciwarrenLeave a comment

Last Thursday….So the bears finally came back! I was pretty excited to see three different bears on my site. To our surprise, we had two different bears show up on John’s lower bait. One was a very small bear and another was one nice bear that showed up at 7:48 am…go figure…dang it!

big bear bottom bait — John’s 7:48 am bear

Friday-I had to work until after 5pm, so I couldn’t wait to hunt on Saturday.

Saturday, I got into my treestand earlier than usual. I had a honey burn going behind me. That’s a can of honey being cooked over a sterno fire to make a delicious aroma for bear. The place was full of scent and to make things more delicious, I brought and hung half of my frozen beaver carcass that John scored for me this past spring. The beaver was killed by a car at the end of the lake and was in the road. I spotted it on my way to taking my youngest to school so I called John and he recovered the beaver. I’ve waited all season to hang it as an added bonus since I’ve read that “beaver is bear cocaine”.

IMG_20150911_170357868 — My bait site this year…from my treestand. (c) S. Warren

The wind was swirling…like in every direction. It would swirl and whirl, and then be completely dead quite, then repeat itself. I kept myself entertained watching the several red squirrels and mice make their way to the bait for some eats, then they’d chase each other from one tree to another. I also heard lots of crashes and noises like never before. I thought I heard a “huff”–the sound a bear makes when he’s giving you a warning that he doesn’t like you being there…BUT since I’ve never actually experienced the whole experience of seeing and getting a bear, I second guessed myself, and thought I was just making it up in my head. After all, I am told you don’t hear bear, you see bear.

Eventually I had to surrender to legal shooting hours and leave the stand. I’ve been brave this year, making my way into my stand alone and walking out alone a couple of times. So once again I figured I’d walk out and meet John at the truck. Very quietly, I climb out of my stand, put my gun by the tree and put on my backpack. As I picked up my gun, I heard something take off about 20 yards from me. It ran a few steps, but then I didn’t hear it anymore. I thought maybe John was coming in to meet me, so I whistled…no whistle back…thinking perhaps I didn’t do it loud enough..I whistle again…still nothing. I decide it’s really getting too dark so I set my gun down and take off my back pack to find my flashlight. I can feel it, but I can’t find the zipper to access it…dang…After three or four tries, I hear a noise in the woods, and so I watch over my shoulder. I finally retrieve my flashlight. As soon as I turn it on, I spot John’s light coming through the woods. As I meet him, he’s pretty pumped up…”I just ran into a bear!….Yes, I know…he was right here…he circled around me and was coming in towards the honey burn….and so off the bear ran.

Sunday – We pulled the bear bait from Athens. We never got even one bear on the bait the entire time we tried, so we went in and cleaned and removed all traces of our being there.

Monday afternoon, I sat. No bears at the bait but I still sat and hoped. John sat on the upper bait which is a switch. With no bear at the other bait sites, he’s been sitting in the truck or out scouting for edible Maine mushrooms, a new fascination of mine.

Tuesday afternoon, I sat. Still no bears on the bait. My beaver carcass is hanging right where I hung it Saturday untouched. I wasn’t feeling too hopeful, but no more than 5 minutes after sitting in my tree stand, I spot movement…hoping for a bear, I soon realize it’s a deer…a big deer…a beautiful fully symmetrical, still-in-velvet or very dark antlers…an 8 point buck! If it were deer season, I would have shot me a deer. I’m thinking, deer are not supposed to come while bear hunting…they’re supposed to come during deer season!!…perhaps this is a sign of my deer season to come. Since I don’t have a doe tag, I’ll need to shoot a buck.

Toward the end of the night, I decided to try something new and I took out my predator call and started imitating a wounded rabbit…it’s supposed to call in bear…yeah right…it didn’t’ call in a bear, but as soon as I called, I began hearing a cow moose bellowing her mating call…over and over, louder and louder–about seven times in all. At first I thought it was John trying to call in a moose, because that’s what he does….so I call back thinking I’ll trick him…the next think I know I hear a bull moose making his grunt...it’s sort of like a glug…so cool! Okay, no John involved and there was a courting ritual taking place not too far from me. The cow and bull moose continued until I heard galloping down the road…what an exciting night! No bear, but all the wildlife encounters left me feeling satisfied.

10411746_10203113710937242_5290703695723692381_n — The upper bait…not much to look at…it’s grown in even more from this photo taken last year. (c) S. Warren

Wednesday afternoon I sat on the upper bait. For three straight nights, a smaller bear had been coming out during legal shooting hours, and we hadn’t even been checking the bait due to time constraints, and the fact that no bears had been to the bait since the first week of baiting season. John thought there was a bear there Tuesday, but it got too dark before it came out. The night felt exceptionally long. I think the woman forgot to put the turbo shot in my iced coffee. All I wanted to do was fall asleep…I hate it when that happens! The range of view is much smaller and inevitably there always seems to be noise behind me…and it drives me crazy. Finally it got dark so I could end my torture and get down… and again, no bear.

Thursday afternoon I can’t hunt. I have to work late at a formal function. There is nothing worse than not being able to hunt when the countdown is on.

Friday and Saturday are the last two days to hunt over bait. I’m putting all my eggs in one basket and spending my last two days doing everything possible to get a bear. I’m not too hopeful, and in fact I’m sort of resolved to the fact that chances are I won’t get a bear this year. Yes it bums me out, but I have to remember that each and every time I go, I am learning, and enjoying the outdoors and growing as a hunter, a woman and wife. I’ve been very fortunate to be able to spend this time with my hubby who basically has had even less chance of getting a bear this season than me, and I know that I’ll be back next year to try again. Cross your fingers for me!

Patience & Persistence

September 20, 2015September 21, 2015 staciwarren3 Comments

Raising three kids, I’ve had more than enough time to say, “in due time”, “eventually”, “at some point”, “in the future”, “be patient”, “never give up”, “don’t quit”…yet these are words that I’ve had to remind myself to keep in mind on more than one occasion this bear season.

After a banner opening week of bear baiting with bears on two baits, the last thing we expected was for the bears to disappear. I mean they DISAPPEARED! Two plus straight weeks of nothing. We checked and rechecked with no results. We used more scents than I could ever imagine. We sprayed, greased, stocked, and topped off baits…nothing. Mother Nature graced Maine with abundant natural food this year. Berries, choke cherries, mushrooms, apples, beechnuts, acorns…the list goes on… so no matter what we offered, we just couldn’t compete with what Mother Nature was offering up. Then Mother Nature gave us an extra kick in the gut with temperatures in the 90’s.

The actual bear hunting season kicked off and while some hunters were sharing their successes, many were also expressing the same frustration…no bears. That gave me some comfort, but not much. I was feeling totally defeated, and while some hunters were choosing to sit on cold baits, we weren’t and that was making the anxiety even worse…What if’s consumed my mind. What if they came in, what if they came in during shooting time, what if they never come back…We weren’t even sitting, but the clock to the end of bear season was still ticking. No bears and oppressive heat meant our chances of seeing a bear was pretty slim.

Contemplating what the season will hold, John and I enjoyed a backyard campfire and family time with youngest son. Patience again required as it took three times to get the fire to actually burn. Sitting under some of the darkest skies I’d seen all summer, I watched shooting stars; probably leftovers from the meteor showers earlier in the month. Watching for the possibility of another required patience and a good neck to stare at the sky. My patience was rewarded with six shooting stars that night.

I_00037 — Scrapper returns. (c) S. Warren

I_00071 — A new bear showed up. Not as big as Scrapper, but a nice one. (c) S. Warren

And so persistence and patience along with Mother Nature helping has paid off. The temperatures have finally dropped, the berries have gone by and bears are looking for calories. We finally have bears back on the baits, and more than one and none are sows with cubs, so we’re excited. We even had a bear show up in the middle of the day when we were working. We’re hopeful, but we must still remember to be patient and persistent. Meanwhile, please be patient with my postings. Bear hunting is very time consuming, and this full-time working girl gets tired.

I_00160b — Daytime bear 12:15 on a Thursday..Gahhh! Young bear trying to avoid the bigger bears that come in at night. (c) S. Warren

I_00112 — Same bear that came in before came back after Scrapper was in. (c) S. Warren

Bear Season – Week 2&3 Bears and More Bears to NO Bears

September 1, 2015September 1, 2015 staciwarren3 Comments

I_00466b — Momma bear sticking her head in the barrel, which she wasted no time in tipping over for the cubs to get the food. (c) Staci Warren

I_00468a — Very small bear, this year’s cubs…and these bear rely on Mom to take care of them through the next winter…hence these bears…ALL of them..are off limits. They’re fun to watch, but we won’t hunt them. (c) S. Warren

I_00490b — Chowing down after Mom spilled the bait out on the ground for them. (c) S. Warren

Week two brought us not much luck. There were no bears on my site, no bear on the Upper Bait and the Bottom bait brought us some familiar faces. The new Infrared cameras are a no flash camera so all the photos come out black and white. Here we have the sow and three cubs that came to my bait the first week. Only time will tell if they come back. We did get some other visitors…raccoon that seemed skinnier than any
racoon I’ve seen yet this year.

Week three brought me the bear we’re calling, Skrapper, because he looks like he’s been in a lot of fights. Note the large gash on his neck, and his ears are chewed off…one mean fighting bear…I’d like to say he came back but as of opening day August 31st, no bear had showed on any of the sites.

Checking baits and hoping for a hit soon. Stay tuned!

I_00060 — Skrapper …notice the missing ear tips. (c) S. Warren

I_00028 — We removed the sticks on our barrels after seeing this…we want the raccoons eating the bait so they carry the scent back into the woods…no raccoons, less scent to lure bear. He took the wood out, but was more interested in the nougat we had for him to eat. He didn’t touch the cakes. (c) S. Warren

I_00077 — Skrapper full of scars. (c) S. Warren

Girl Time!

August 15, 2015 staciwarren1 Comment

IMG_20150730_143824540 — Erin fishing on the stream. (c) S. Warren

The Bear Referendum brought me new friends. One friend is Erin; she is also a hunter and fellow Woman of the Maine outdoors. I’ve never had a lot of time fishing or hunting with anyone other than John or the kids, so when I got the chance to go fishing with a new friend and hopefully show her how to fly fish in my favorite place to fish, I jumped on it.

No fishing on the Dead River today. (c) S. Warren

I couldn’t wait to go fishing. We planned it all out a couple weeks in advance. The river is usually down during the week so I was pretty excited that we’d be able to fish and not be competing with so many other fisherman that are there on the weekends. The Dead River is a rafting river so on weekends when they raft, the river rises and stays high until about one o’clock. Then it drops, we fish, and Sunday it repeats itself. The rest of the time, the river levels are determined by Brookfield, the owner of the dam, so fisherman are at their mercy. Three days out from our big day, we got rain, and a lot of it, but the river levels remained steady. The river was still running low the morning we headed out.

Fishing the Carrabassett by the Wire Bridge. (c) Erin M.

The trip takes an hour and half from my house, and once we leave Anson, cell phone coverage is spotty at best. This meant I couldn’t receive any more river level notifications and we’d have to hope it was still low. We weren’t so lucky. According to another fisherman, about a half hour before we arrived, the river was released and was raging way above any fishable level. I was pretty disappointed since John and I had just come off a stellar weekend of fishing and I didn’t want to let my friend down. In an attempt to salvage the day, we headed to the Carrabassett River. John and I had fished the river and caught some nice brook trout below the wire bridge the week before, and I knew it was accessible and safe to navigate. The scenery was awesome and the river was also high, but still fishable.

We didn’t catch anything, but had a great time checking out all the wildlife and sharing tips on fishing. The one thing we did before the day ended, was to plan another day…after all, we couldn’t possibly strike out twice on getting to fish the Dead.

I watched the river levels every day. I also noticed a systematic behavior of the dam operators. Thursday mornings before the weekend with a rafting release scheduled, they cut the water back to 375-385cf/s…perfect for fishing. What I didn’t realize was that for two straight weeks there would be no rafting release…and you guessed it..the water rose, and it stayed there. I was Dead wrong…the water levels at 1120 cf/second were so high that once again we couldn’t fish it.

Fishing the Kennebec by the dam. (c) Erin M.

This time, I had a plan B in place. I had done my research and decided we’d take on the Kennebec River which also meant facing my long held fears. We parked and hiked down in by the eddy. The water was moving fast but it didn’t look unconquerable. I can say I was nervous because I wasn’t familiar with the river, the drop offs and all the childhood baggage of fearing the Kennebec. I managed to get myself out on this rock that was almost impossible to stand on. I don’t know if it was actually my fear, or my feet screaming to stay on the rock, but I didn’t’ stay long before I gave up and joined my friend on the shore. With no hits we decided to try the other end closer to the dam.

It was a hot muggy day, but the sunshine was still welcome. Dressed in waders and boots, we hiked down to the dam and made our way down to the water. First cast out with my big drake fly, I get a hit when I least expect it…yes, I was talking….and I lose the fish! I get so excited I’m screaming, “Oh my gosh, that was a big fish!” not realizing that if you’ve never caught a fish on a fly rod, you don’t know that feeling of what it’s like to get a big one on the hook. My excitement was contagious to my friend Erin, and it warded off the thirst that was slowing draining my energy for a while. Getting no more hits and roasting in our gear, we decided to head back to the car and get something to drink and eat. By the time we make it back to the car, we are both drenched in sweat…but we didn’t care! Hats on and sweaty pits, we laughed it off as being Women of the Maine Outdoors. We headed back to a store, bought our sandwiches, crawlers to fish with, and drinks, many of them, and we headed out to a different spot much different from what we had been trying to fish. After all, I wanted my friend to catch a fish!

Owls keeping watch as we fish. (c) Erin M.

Nice native brook trout! Tasted yummy too! (c) Erin M.

I was pretty proud of myself for finding the spot since I hadn’t been there for a few years, although we did go the wrong way at first. Once we found it, I informed Erin of the poison ivy that grows there…lots of it. So much so, we decided to wear the fishing gear to keep the poison ivy and bugs off us. It wasn’t nearly as hot since we were in the shade. As we made our way in, we came across two piles of bear poop, lots of turkey tracks and even saw two fledgling owls. Fishing was slow at first. As with any small area to fish, the hardest part is getting the darned worm cast out far enough from shore to actually lure in a fish. We had some good laughs and I climbed out on a tree to rescue a worm caught up in some branches. Fish taunted us as they jumped for flies and bugs while we kept patient and fished with worms. After Erin tried a few attempts to catch one of the fish, I gave it a try. I got lucky and it finally took the bait. I caught a nice 10 inch native brook trout. So this time we didn’t go home empty handed, but there’s already a third trip in the works…and next time Erin will catch a fish! Hopefully the Dead River cooperates and lets us finally have a chance to fish. I know those fish will be ready for some of my tasty looking flies on top of the water!

A big thank you goes out to my friend Erin for a day of fishing and friendship with talk that didn’t encompass my nails, shopping, working out guilt, dieting or any self-deprecating conversations.

And that’s just another reason more women should get in the outdoors.

Bear Season Take Two – Week 1

August 5, 2015August 5, 2015 staciwarrenLeave a comment

Last year was my first official bear hunting season, yet last year’s anti-bear hunting referendum in Maine was in full swing, and I wasn’t able to fully enjoy what might have been my first and last bear season. I dang near cried when the end of the season came and I hadn’t gotten my bear. The threat that we might lose the ability to manage Maine black bears because a bunch of anti-hunting animal activists could lie and twist facts on 40 years of bear research was disturbing to say the least. I never campaigned so hard to get the facts out to all my social media friends, and some now former friends because they got sick of my posts. Oh well. I’m passionate about hunting, and I’ve always been a science-minded woman who makes decisions on facts and not claims surrounded in emotion, and on top of that, I made a lot of new friends in the process.

So thanks again to all my hunting and non-hunting friends who “get it” and for voting “No on 1”. Maine bear hunting is safe for now, but not forever. The Humane Society of the United States will be back will lots of other lies, inaccurate and misleading information, and staged videos, but I hope after this season you’ll get to know more about bear hunting and will even better understand the facts. I’ll be blogging about my/our adventures, so wish me luck!

11825742_10205477620473503_4450377118236654907_n — Big bear claw marks. Yowza! (c) S. Warren

Last Saturday, August 1, 2015, marked the first day bear bait could be placed out for the 2015 hunt which begins August 31st. This year we obtained permission to once again hunt a privately owned mountain about an hour and a half from home. Thank you Mr. S! This 1,000 acre property is gated, but not entirely off limits to outsiders because the Appalachian Trail runs adjacent to part of the property. We take this into consideration when we place our baits since I use a gun and wouldn’t want to be shooting in the direction of hikers even though we’re legally far enough from them, but more so, even though it’s illegal to tamper with baits, we don’t want to take a chance that some anti-hunter hiking through would find our site and try sabotage it. Avoiding “issues” is the reason we get permission year after year, and we don’t want to jeopardize that relationship. We’ve already had bear at one of the three sites we bait and I’m stoked because it was my spot!

With permission from a landowner and former high school classmate, we set up a second location with about 100 acres only 40 minutes from home. Thank you Paul and Bea! We were pretty excited to see so much bear sign. Bear poop and clawed up beech trees from previous bears made the setup seem a lot quicker…that and the fact that sons Zack and Tyler joined us. For now we have one bait on it, but may add a second if it turns out to be a productive site, meaning big bears visiting it. 😉

D55SRC_V068.C01031.061__FG=8000,FT=66606,NIR=0,GM=30, EV=67,PY=0,DY=61,GB=0x80,SG=0x70,EL=1236,AEY=0,VC=255,VT=0 — Two cubs or mother and cub…not what I want to see. The benefit of bait is being able to determine what’s there. (c) S. Warren

Long before we could bait, we made arrangements to get bait, which can sometimes be difficult if you wait until the last minute. We’ve used a host of different types of bait. Last year’s bait was cattle feed from the Midwest; I figured if it was good enough for beef cattle, it was good enough for bear. It consisted of mostly cookies and nuts…lots of them and chocolate, which we’ve since learned can be toxic to bears if they eat too much. The raccoon and squirrels liked it better than the bear did. In fact, probably half of the bait we put out is eaten by other critters and not bear.

This year’s bait is nothing we’ve had before: lots of fritter-like-spice cake-like cake-muffin-glaze-like…all mixed together and really fragrant. We also have caramel, blueberry pie filling, grease, and a bunch of scents like anise oil (smells like licorice), Northwoods Bear Jelly that’s waterproof and scented with anise and beaver castor (smells like stinky beaver hormone), and a cherry burst sprinkle additive. The Bear Jelly is a new product for us but it seems we’ve had bad luck when it comes to baiting. We’ll just get one site baited only to have it rain so it washes the scent away, so waterproof please don’t fail us! The cherry burst is like confectioners sugar on a dough-boy, and the smell is so strong your mouth waters when you smell it, and all necessary to hopefully lure in a mature bear for me to harvest. Bears have an extraordinary sense of smell which means not only do I have to attract them away from preferred natural foods, but also not have them smell me.

We can’t wait to go back and check and fill our baits. It’s going to be exciting to see who’s there and who’s new. I hope there are less critters and more bear this year. More to come!

My beautiful picture — Big bear! (c) S. Warren

D55SRC_V068.C01031.061__FG=2250,FT=76953,NIR=1,GM=41, EV=48,PY=23,DY=48,GB=0x80,SG=0x12,EL=1428,AEY=100,VC=255,VT=0 — Red squirrel…too many to count…they fight with chipmunks, grey squirrel and mice for the food. (c) S. Warren

D55SRC_V068.C01031.061__FG=1250,FT=26890,NIR=1,GM=41, EV=36,PY=24,DY=51,GB=0x80,SG=0x4,EL=499,AEY=225,VC=255,VT=0 — Even vultures and crows come down for something to eat. (c) S. Warren

A Rude Awakening

August 4, 2015August 5, 2015 staciwarren3 Comments

October is my favorite month. In fact, my husband John and I were married in October. We had initially picked the first Saturday in November to get married, but that was supposed to be the first day of deer season, so we bumped it back a week earlier so not to interfere with hunting. After all, nothing should come between a man and opening deer season. (I didn’t hunt then so it really was all about him.)

As luck would have it, the October date turned out to be the first year that Maine decided to make deer season earlier…and you guessed it. We were scheduled to be married on the first day of hunting season. After putting my foot down that I was not going to take a black marker to the invitations and change the date, John conceded and we got married as planned.

The first day of hunting season has always been a huge event in our family, so when our youngest son finally turned 10, John wanted to be ready to take him out. Friday afternoon was an iconic picture perfect Maine fall day. The sun was shining, and the Indian summer was in full force. John had scouted beforehand and decided to put up two hanging tree stands overlooking a well traveled deer lane on a knoll not far from the house.

When I first started hunting, we didn’t have many tree stands and we considered ourselves resourceful when John built some, since anything was better than the old rickety nailed on tree stands of the past. We owned hanging stands, and some of those were homemade. We also had some screw-in tree steps, some strap-on ladder steps, and homemade ladders to get into our stands. Ladder stands were the newest thing on the market and we had purchased a “buddy stand” which seats two people, to use when John and I first hunted together. I really, really like that stand.

The majority of the time, I used the homemade or a combination of the homemade stands since we had several places to hunt and we wanted as many options as possible as the season went on. When I look back, it’s amazing I even continued to hunt given how hard it was for me to climb into stands. I really thought John was testing me because some of these stands were so challenging to get into. I was always athletic and strong, so realizing I couldn’t climb into these stands as easy as I thought I could made me try even harder to succeed.

I had the stand that had strap-on ladders, that led to climbing several feet of hemlock limbs only to be totally spent by the time I reached the actual stand. More than once, I’d have to stop and catch my breath, take a break and pray I wouldn’t fall out of that tree. By the time I finally made it into the stand, I’d be a wash of sweat.

Another stand we still use requires climbing a pine about 25 feet high to get the stand. I’ve only climbed that tree three times because it literally takes all the strength I have to climb it. This big old tree overlooks a swail grass area known for deer crossings. After climbing tree steps, I have to hold onto limbs so big it requires me to hug the branches, not hold onto them with my hands. Every step has to be calculated so that I can step onto my stand, and unlike a lot of my stands, coming down is just as scary.

Then there was “tall stand” because it was in a tall tree. It was located down in the bog which wasn’t some place I craved to be. It consisted of a small maple tree with it’s top broke out and a board perched on top of it. After climbing screw in steps set too far apart for my short legs, and then shimmying up two pine saplings I finally made it onto the platform where I threw myself across it and lay there trying to figure out how to actually maneuver into a sitting position.

And finally, there was the tree that wasn’t that bad to climb into, except that I had been sick with the flu for a couple days and when I sat in the stand, the wind blew so hard that the tree swayed back and forth all night; it moved and bent so hard I had to hang on in fear of falling out of the stand. I’m not sure if it was the flu or the swaying, but I was not a happy hunter.

That’s right, I was afraid of falling out of all those trees because not once did I ever wear a safety harness or use any type of system to protect me from a fall. None of us used a safety harness.

Getting ready to bear hunt...safety harness in place! — Selfie….Getting ready to bear hunt…safety harness in place! (c) S. Warren

Rude Awakening Day: On October 30, 2009, John had found the perfect spot to take our youngest son. He remembered he had a stand already hanging from the previous year, so he decided to check it out. Climbing about twenty five feet up the tree, he hung the second stand next to the existing stand. Then he cautiously climbed onto the existing stand. He tested the tree stand as he hugged the tree, putting his weight on it, and then gave a couple jumps. “Good to go”, he thought. He settled into the stand and looked out over the oak stand, just enjoying the fall afternoon view. A minute later, all our lives changed.

The tree stand made a loud snap; it was the weather-rotted strap breaking. John fell to the ground, landing with his back onto a stump. He laid there unable to move. After what seemed like forever, he rolled over onto his hands and knees and began coughing up blood. He knew he was hurt and had to get out of the woods fast because he didn’t think anyone would find him. After not being able to reach anyone with his cell phone, he decided to walk out. John made it to his truck, and then he drove himself to our house. Our daughter rushed him to the hospital in Waterville. After being examined, he was transferred to Portland for trauma care for seven days. He suffered broken vertebrae, ribs, shoulder blade, a ruptured spleen, punctured lung and several smaller breaks and bruises.

D55SRC_V068.C01031.061__FG=1750,FT=31471,NIR=1,GM=41, EV=40,PY=28,DY=51,GB=0x80,SG=0xc,EL=584,AEY=193,VC=255,VT=0 — John baiting before he sits in his tree stand. Note the climbing harness is on. 😉 (c) S. Warren

Fast forward to today. John is lucky to have come away not crippled or permanently injured from his fall. He still hunts, but he and none of us hunt unless we wear a safety harness. “I never thought I needed a harness, but I’ll never go into a tree stand without one now” says John, “and I’ll never use a tree stand that’s been hanging for a long period of time.”

We also gave up our homemade stands, not because they weren’t sturdy, but because the price of metal tree stands have come down. We change our straps every couple years and never leave them hanging anymore. We’ve added Prusik knot life lines to the big pine and I only use ladder stands now. I’m a much happier hunter knowing that not only can I climb into stands but also my family is safe from tragedy.

Bear hunting season is about to begin and that means the beginnings of sitting or standing in tree stands, so when you go out this season, please use a safety harness system. Happy Hunting!

Reflections of Learning Not to Fear

July 15, 2015July 17, 2015 staciwarren4 Comments

IMG_20150627_183604851 — My main squeeze John ❤ (c) S. Warren

Reflecting on our recent weekend of fishing the river, I need to give kudos to the wonderful man I married over thirty years ago. John’s a true sportsman in every way and his willingness to share his knowledge, to learn new things together, and to give me space to grow as a sportswoman has made our relationship stronger than ever. I even feel a little guilty that it took me so long to find the love of fishing and hunting.

IMG_20140524_195525319 — T , Mom and Dad trying to do a selfie on one of our trips. (c) S. Warren

And so I confess. I say ‘we’ more often than ‘I’, since I never go camping or fishing alone…and I don’t want to. I enjoy OUR time whether it’s just the two of us or the entire family. For me, being an outdoors woman doesn’t mean you have to do outdoors things with only women, or on your own in order to prove yourself. In fact, I think it’s more important to be an ambassador to encourage women to get outdoors…spread the enjoyment and eliminate fears. Share your experiences, skills and knowledge not only with other women, but with family, friends, and yes, even men…anyone so that women aren’t the anomaly when it comes to the outdoors.

IMG_20150711_200025970_HDR — Sunset at the Pond (c) S. Warren

IMG_20150529_184527246 — Rabbit that appears every time we drive this road..same spot. same rabbit. (c) S. Warren

Our weekend was fabulous in many ways. We had great weather most of the time. The bugs were minimal, the river was low enough to fish–not ideal, but we could fish it, and we caught lots and lots of fish. We caught fish on wet flies, dry flies, and nymphs. We also saw lots of amazing plants and wildlife: almost ripe blueberries, wild cherries, purple bell flower, a cow moose and her calf right near camp, a whitetail on the island, and crows galore. I saw the first trout ever to jump completely out of the water and then hit my fly on the re-entry, (which I caught and released), our resident rabbit on our way to the pond, and the most beautiful sunset from the canoe immediately followed by the first Hex hatch we had ever seen–right at nightfall. Literally, there were drakes emerging everywhere, fish rising and jumping everywhere, and we couldn’t catch a darned thing because it was getting too dark! Night one closed with campfire happiness with skies so dark the stars seemed endless along the Milky Way and fast moving satellites.

So back to reflecting. I see, smell, hear and experience so many wonderful things that it’s hard to focus on one special thing about my weekend that would have meaning. Except for the one image that keeps going through my mind…the one of a few years ago of this twenty-something woman in waders, fly rod in hand heading out by herself down this long road to fish. She was confident. She walked with purpose and direction and never flinched…and I bet she caught fish. She wasn’t afraid to be alone, or least she didn’t show it, and I wanted to be like her.

11141224_10205319331396375_4636217521049186223_n — My beautiful brookie..stocked but still a lot of fun to catch. (c) S. Warren

I wanted to be able to grab my fly rod, go fishing, not worry about being alone, not being afraid of anything, or having the need to have someone watch after me, as my husband who only means well, would do so often. We’ve fished, but we’ve never fished far from each other, always having each other in our line of sight. At one point, he wanted us to have walkie talkies…we don’t. He wouldn’t fish out of my sight because he was worried about me being harassed by other men, getting hurt or falling in the river. Being a woman on the river is pretty uncommon, and being a woman who fly fishes seems even more unique. I refuse to say being a woman on the river is lonely since I’m never lonely. I wish there were more women on the river; they are truly missing out. Over the years, instead of being a victim of my fears, I’ve decided to walk with a purpose and direction and never flinch…and I catch fish. Fishing and hunting have given me courage to face my fears and I like it!

This year marked the first year that John fished entirely out of my sight, not only for a short time, but for at least couple hours. We just fish; it’s no longer about it being okay if he fishes somewhere else that isn’t where he can see me…and I’m not afraid. He didn’t worry about me as much as he used to, or at least he didn’t show it…and I’m okay with that. I’ve learned to hoot if he’s downwind of me when I catch a fish so he’ll know I really do catch fish.

Of course, John will always be there trying to protect me. He did confess to me at the end of the weekend that as he went down the bridge bank that I walk around through the trail because my knees don’t do downhills, he encountered a very, very large snake. A three-foot-long-brown garter snake. Big and Fat…and he chased it off before I saw it. I have already encountered one snake in that area this season, but it was a small one. Since I don’t like snakes and jump even when I see dead snakes…that snake might have given me a heart attack if it was indeed as big as he said. I know…I’m a work in progress…Thank you Sweetheart…that’s the kind of watching over I need.