Expanded Archery Tales

On the last day of muzzleloader season, expanded archery would also come to an end. I convinced John to go expanded hunting with me since I was seeing way more deer in the city than he was muzzleloader hunting, and at least in expanded archery, we each had a permit to shoot either a buck or a doe.

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View from my blind overlooking a chopping. c. SWarren

Instead of going where we had been going, John decided to take me to a spot he’s hunted for years in Oakland. He scouted it in advance and prepared two separate blinds out of brush for us. The first morning we hunted together, I followed him into the spot and took my place behind my blind…well, after he came back and led me to where it was. I had never been that way and even though he said, “it’s right there,” I went too far left and missed his trail entirely. As I stood in the dark trying to find my way, a figure in the dark walked by me…it was him. The wind was howling and it got cold. I didn’t think the wind was to our advantage, and I was ready to leave when my teeth started chattering. We didn’t see anything, but sign was abundant so I wasn’t too discouraged about coming back.

 

We may not have seen any deer, but we scored some fall oyster mushrooms, which are probably the best mushrooms we’ve eaten besides our chanterelles. Yum!img_20161203_075113430

The following night, I couldn’t hunt, but John went. He decided to sit further in from our original spot, and although he didn’t see them, he heard two bucks fighting as their antlers clashed just before dark.

So the following weekend, we came in from a different way and took up new spots on the other side of the mountain. That morning before daylight, we hiked that tall, steep mountain. It was so steep and going was slow on the slippery snow. I thought I’d die trying to pace my breath before we got to the top only to sweat as soon as I made it to the top. Thank goodness I have good layers to wick away the moisture!

Eventually we made it into our spot, which was filled with acorns from all the oak trees in the area. The deer had been feeding here, so it would just a matter of timing before we’d see a deer. John had picked out a really nice spot for me right at the tip of a fallen-over hemlock tree. It made great cover right on the ridge of a valley. I could see all over the other side and all around me. Deer sign everywhere! All I had to do was sit still.

It wasn’t long after daylight when I heard a deer. At first I thought the deer was behind me. I realized I was also hearing a squirrel at the same time I was hearing the deer…out in front of me. John was sitting off to my right about 40 yards. I thought sure he’d see this deer. It made its way from the right to left slowly walking down the bank at a diagonal. It went out of sight when it reached the bottom of the valley because a big blown down poplar tree’s  root ball on my side of the bank blocked my view. As I waited, I finally saw the right ear of the deer. She was coming right up in front of me at about 20 yards. I drew my bow and held it as I waited for her to step out. With the deer fully in sight, I lined up my peep sight with the knock on my bow. I realized the deer was looking right at me!

I released the arrow, and watched it hit the deer where I thought was just behind the left shoulder. The deer took off. I felt it was a good shot. However, the arrow did not light up when it hit as it did with my first deer. The deer bound to my left, then turned and headed down the hill, and then back up the other side where it stopped right at the top. I could hear the leaves rustling and thought it had gone down, but I couldn’t see clearly where it had gone. I saw more deer off in the distant. The hardest part about bow hunting is trying to capture what’s happening so you can remember everything. It’s much harder when there’s a bow in your hand, and everything happens so fast!

I texted John when he didn’t text me right away. I thought, hadn’t he seen the deer? I thought for sure he saw the whole thing go down.

Me: Schwack! (I was feeling pretty proud about now!)
Me: Didn’t you see the deer?
John: No, did you shoot?
Me: Yes, I hit it.
Me: I think anyways. (beginning to second guess my shot)

I could hear John coming my way, and at the same time, I saw the deer off in the distant coming our way. I couldn’t get John’s attention before the deer realized he was there and bound away. He was pretty disappointed he hadn’t seen the other deer, but there was a large tree that blocked the deer from his view. He had heard it but couldn’t see it.  I chuckled when he said he couldn’t believe that I had once again taken a shot at a deer. After all, this was only my first season of bow hunting, and this shot made three deer I had taken a shot at. Apparently it’s not normally like this?

img_20161210_093700584We talked about where the deer was standing, where the deer was shot, which way the deer went…and all before we even took a step away from my tree. John found the spot where I had hit the deer and where it ran. He found the spot where the arrow was broken off and laying on the ground in a bunch of spattered blood. The arrow had a lot of fat on the front of the arrow. There was no sign of a gut shot, so where was this deer?!

We followed blood sign, first tiny specks, then a whole bunch down over the valley and back up over the other side. Then the blood and trail seemed to disappear. No blood anywhere. Not even a speck. Are you kidding me?! I felt sick. We spent almost an hour trying to find where the trail went cold. We eventually found where the deer had ran and eventually we found a minute, tiny speck every once in a while that would keep us moving.

We really thought eventually this deer would lie down and bleed. Our only explanation was that either the arrow passed through the deer and the fletching end of the arrow was still in the deer and possibly plugging the wound, or I hit lower than I thought, and had only caused a superficial wound to the deer. But we made every effort to keep tracking as long as we could. I didn’t want to feed the coyotes.

After about two hours and quite a distance, we followed the deer’s tracks out into a road. On the other side, we spotted between 8 and 10 deer all in a group with one very big deer chasing around…a buck! John had left his bow back at my tree. I gave him my bow to take a shot. I hid behind a tree and gave a bleat on the doe call. The buck started running our way. Just as John drew, a doe on our right busted us, and every one of those deer turned and scattered in every direction.

Now we were discouraged. There was no way to tell which way the deer I had wounded ran if it wasn’t bleeding. We spent a while longer and I finally resolved that we wouldn’t find the deer. I was very disappointed. I never, ever thought I’d lose a deer. I really thought it was a good shot. What would people think? I pride myself on being a good shot and making a quick, clean kill. I know hunters who use both rifle and bow and have lost deer. I understand that it can happen. Nothing is a given, but it still feels awful. So I’ve decided that if I have anything to do with it, this will be my last lost deer.

IMG_20160526_172913838.jpgI’m not going to get stuck in the woulda-shoulda-coulda trap. What I will do is practice. Practice more. Practice until I shoot that spot the size of a quarter. I’ve always hit, but never that tight of a grouping…but next season I will. Next season, there will be no question. I will learn to be more patient, not rush a shot, and have more faith in myself. I will use this failure to learn from, and not stop me from doing what I love to do. I will not let the possibility of failure stop me. I will make sure that I am prepared so that my possibility of failure is minimal. It still won’t be a given for success, but I can make sure that I’ve done everything I can do to make it is as failure-proof as it can be.

When you head out into the woods, don’t let the possibility of failure stop you from trying new things. Don’t let previous failures stop you from trying again.

Remember: There’s an adventure that awaits. Be prepared and your chances of success will follow.

 

 

 

 

My First Stab at City Hunting

I was never keen on sitting in the city with the thinking I wouldn’t be able to hear anything.

If you can archery hunt, then you can hunt expanded archery, which is simply hunting within city limits designated as Expanded Archery zones. It requires an additional permit that you can buy online. What’s great about expanded archery is that you can tag deer in non-expanded archery zones, then you can buy a permit for an anterless deer permit, or a permit that allows for either antlered or anterless deer, and continue to bow hunt the remainder of the season. So you really can get more than one deer a year! Since I got my doe in a rifle zone even though I got it with my bow, I am considered “tagged out”. I didn’t get nearly enough time in the stand, so I figured I’d give this city hunting a try. I won’t get into the bullshit regulations that local municipalities try to enforce, which in my opinion defeats the purpose of making the area an Expanded Archery zone in the first place. Hubby has had landowner permission for years. That should cover it.

John has been hunting expanded archery for over ten years, so he has the information on where to hunt. I was never keen on sitting in the city with the thinking I wouldn’t be able to hear anything. I’ve been so used to having minimal traffic noises that I just couldn’t imagine it being a positive experience.  Au contraire mon ami!

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My first spot sitting behind a fallen birch

John showed me where he hunted, and we set up a blind with fallen boughs and branches near a fallen tree. I went out the first morning expecting not to see anything. Not only did I get to see the sun rise, but also, I got to see four does. Unfortunately I had made a big circle to get to my blind and as soon as those deer hit my travel path on the knoll, they followed it right away from me. But I saw deer!

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Good morning from the city!

I couldn’t go out every morning because it’s just too far into town, then back home in time for me to get ready for work…and that damned time change… really put a wrench in my hunting schedule.

A few days later I sat again. I heard a buck grunt, but I jumped it. Two days later, I got in very early. This particular parcel gets lit up by city lights so even when it’s pitch black out, I have a hard time getting in there before it feels light. I sat myself closer to where the four does had traveled.

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I pitched my chair behind four birches and was facing towards them which is also in the direction of their travel. I gave a blow on my buck grunt. In a matter of seconds I had deer practically running at me…from behind. I made a 180 degree swivel in my chair and readied my bow. Only problem was that the front doe saw me even though it was barely light. She made an immediate 180 degree turn and bolted. I tried to get a shot on the second one, but before I could line up my peep sight, she too bound away. I listened as their  walking around in the leaves for quite some time just out of sight of me. They never blew their warnings, but they never came back either. An exciting morning for sure! Now if only I could face the right way when they come in.

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In an attempt to change things up, we tried another spot “at the top of the hill”. I sat under an ash tree that was directly beside the biggest buck rub I had ever seen. In fact, there were several buck rubs in a nice line that I could see from my chair.

Sitting there, I heard a noise to my right. As I turned my head, I got a glimpse of the hind end of a deer. She was on a run. She stopped when she went to pass the small sapling I had sprayed with doe urine. With her body aligned with a larger tree, all I could see at first was where her belly stuck out on each side of the tree until she moved closer…at about 15 feet away, I drew my bow to ready a shot. I peaked around the the tree….the tree between her and I. Just as I peaked, so did she. We looked at each other. I tried not to blink. She wasn’t fooled and in a flash, she turned on her heels and bound away flashing her white tail my way.  Again, I saw a deer.

Now I know what you’re thinking….she can’t hunt for crap…well keep in mind, I’m still a newbie at this bow hunting thing…and it’s not just about getting a deer. However, I’ve seen way more deer this year than I’ve seen during rifle hunting, so I’m happy. I’ve had some great experiences seeing other wildlife too. I’m enjoying my time in the woods and I’ve discovered I can block out those noises that I dreaded and really concentrate on hunting. I can safely say city hunting is just as exciting as “regular hunting”.

We’ve moved to another spot in the zone, so perhaps my luck will hold out and I’ll not only see a deer, but I’ll actually take a shot at one.

Wish me luck!

 

 

TBTuesday: My First Deer Hunt

I’m going to make this a Throw Back Tuesday in an attempt to give everyone a break from the politics. I voted early, and I’m onto other things. One thing I’m not doing is deer hunting because a got a deer during archery season, and that makes me officially tagged out. I’m really missing my deer hunt morning sunrises and nature time so I’m sharing the story of my first deer hunt.

WAY back on the first year I hunted, I had never really hunted deer. I had gone along and sat for a while and watched mice, squirrels and birds, but never deer. I didn’t know how to deer hunt, but after getting my turkey, I figured I’d give it a try. I didn’t own any camouflage and or hunting clothing for the cold sits, so my yellow L.L.Bean winter jacket would have to suffice. I bought a pair of L.L.Bean pack boots at the company sale so I had would have warm feet. No fancy pants; just lots of pajama bottoms and layers. I would use John’s .44 Marlin lever action rifle, which I didn’t like because the safety is on the hammer. Yes, my thumb has slipped more than once trying to put the safety on and firing it into the ground, so John had to load it for me.

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Gun set up very similar to John’s .44 rifle. Photo from smith-wessonforum.com

 

 

buddy-standJohn and I bought our first ever buddy stand, a stand made for two people, and put it up on a landowner’s woodlot where we got permission to hunt. It was perfect; it hid among the boughs of a giant hemlock and over looked an entire valley of oak and beech trees. This would be my main place to hunt, which would be mostly Saturdays.

Week one:  John had made a second spot right off the main road by our house. He had found lots of deer sign so he planned to set me up in a ladder stand to sit by myself, and he would sit at a distance away. The first morning was probably one of the stillest mornings I’ve ever experienced. It was star-filled, cold and not an ounce of wind was blowing. As I got out of the truck, I took a deep breath, and from somewhere in the truck, a fuzzy sucked up my nose. My eyes instantly watered as I tried not to sneeze. I thought I’d explode, and then it all let out. Ahhhbwhzzzzzzzzz! I echoed through all of the area. I made the most awful noise that was so much louder than if I had simply sneezed. John looked at me in total disbelief. What to heck was I doing? He was annoyed, but never said a word. I felt like I ruined the hunt before we even got out of the truck. He led me to my stand and left me there. I was surprised when he actually came to get me. To this day, I’ve never lived down that morning.

Week two: We headed in to the giant hemlock. That morning, we jumped a deer on the way in. It was dark so we had to use our flashlights. We hung our buck lure and headed up the tree. Putting my flashlight in my pocket, I went first and then John brought me my gun. I got into the stand and took my spot. I had a menagerie of stuff in my pockets: neck warmer, extra hat, thick orange mittens so my hands wouldn’t freeze… and my flashlight. As I got settled, I pulled the mittens out of my pockets. I didn’t realize I had put my flashlight in “that” pocket. As if in slow motion, my flashlight flew out of my pocket and through the air hitting nearly every rung of the ladder on the way down to the ground, while also coming on and having light shine everywhere. There was dead silence from below. John climbed into the stand and handed me my flashlight, and without a word we sat for deer. To this day, I’ve never lived down that morning.

Week three: The wind was blowing. It was cold, and the sun was in and out of clouds. We found ourselves chuckling, laughing and sharing jokes in whispers. It was nice having John next to me; he was warm. We’d see who could sit still the longest, whose stomach would growl first from the morning coffee, and we made a bet who would see the first deer. We even made a plan that whoever saw the deer, got to shoot it.

I had never seen a deer in the woods. I sat there as the sun rose. Eventually it was daylight and the wind just blew more. I wouldn’t be able to listen; this would be about spotting a deer in a sea of brown leaves. I had been watching this “road” down the woods on my left just imagining what it would be like to see a deer. As I scanned the woods for movement as I had for several hours, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There coming up that “road” was a deer. Even better…a buck! I had to shoot a buck since I never applied for a doe tag. I whispered to John, “Deer! It’s a buck!” I immediately took of my gloves and got my gun ready. John couldn’t see it and was trying frantically to see what I was looking at.
“You going to shoot it? Where is it?!”, he asked as he leaned my way bobbing back and forth.
“Yeah!”, I said, as I took aim through the scope. The deer, about 30 yards away, stopped and turned to his right, giving me the perfect target behind his left shoulder. With one shot, I hit the deer through his lungs and heart. He didn’t even take a step and fell to the ground.
“You hit it!”, yelled John. He couldn’t believe that I didn’t get all shaky and nervous with my first deer…and that I actually hit the deer. He was more excited than me!

I thanked the buck for his life and feeding my family, then helped John field dress it, and together we dragged him out by the antlers. He ended up being a 5 point buck weighing about 140 pounds.(sorry no pics- they’re buried somewhere in my piles of pre-digital

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My first fish caught ice fishing in my yellow L.L.Bean jacket that has given me many adventures. Yes, I still own and wear it.

photos.)

To this day, we still joke that he was trying to push me out of the stand so he could shoot the deer, and I’ve never lived down my cool head when it comes to shooting, and that makes me very proud!

I’m so glad John had the patience to put up with my mistakes so that my love of hunting has grown. It’s meant so many more memories for us to share together, and memories to share with our family. If you are embarking out on your first hunting adventures, know you’ll make mistakes, and if you’re taking someone new, be patient. Mistakes are part of learning.

Good luck in all your hunts, and remember to wear your safety harness in the stands.

 

 

Flinging Arrows

I pulled back on my bow taking aim behind her left shoulder.

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My hand-me-down Parker bow

So I have been archery, a.k.a bow hunting for about a year. I did a little last year, then concentrated on the rifle season. This year, I began bow hunting right after I got back from my moose hunt. I haven’t gotten a deer for the last two years; however, it’s not because I haven’t seen a deer, but because I haven’t seen a buck. It’s been many years since I’ve been lucky enough to score a doe tag, and this year is no different. No doe tag. I’m pretty resolved that my chances of getting a buck are pretty slim, so I’ve decided to bow hunt to hopefully do my part at putting a deer in the freezer.

Okay, so a small part is also full-filling my challenge of getting the grand slam; the not-so-easy task of getting a turkey, bear, moose and deer all in one season. I’ve gotten all of them except for the deer.

I’ve been hunting in my usual spot, but unfortunately came upon two men who were hunting in my area…without permission from the landowner. You see, I don’t own the land I hunt on, but I do have permission. It’s hard to to be nice when you know they’ve totally screwed up your hunt by traipsing through the woods. Deer are smart and it doesn’t take much for them to become nocturnal deer to get their feed without running into a human. I was pretty bummed, especially after the second time because I’m pretty sure the guy wasn’t hunting turkeys with his rifle.

img_20161025_171214811I decided to be proactive and find another spot. After all, I had hunted many other spots and the deer had to go somewhere. So one afternoon I struck out with my bow, seat and cushion. I drove to my new spot. I hiked in and found a sweet spot behind a boulder and small oak tree just off the main road. Perfect. There was lots of new deer sign and I was ready. I sprayed a little doe pee for cover scent and waited.

At about 5 o’clock, I heard a rustle of leaves. Out in front of me I spotted movement. It took me a second before I realized I was looking at a grouse. Seems like those little buggers always show up when I have the wrong weapon in my hand. I only had two arrows with broad heads on them and losing an arrow wasn’t in my plans, so I watched it walk away.

img_20161025_171314772A few minutes later, I heard more leaves. I looked to my left. I was in disbelief when I spotted movement again. This time it was a deer! The deer turned and walked towards me, parallel to the road while remaining in the woods. I readied my bow while trying not to move. The deer stepped out about 20 yards from me (see group of stump just beyond the rock). It was a doe. Her nose down and her body broadside, I pulled back on my bow string taking aim behind her left shoulder. I was careful to line up my sight pin with my peep site. As I did so, the doe lifted its head and looked right in my direction. In a moment of panic that she’d run, I released my arrow. My string let out a zzzzzzzzz vibration telling me I didn’t release it right. I watched as the arrow sailed right at her. At the very point I thought it was going to hit her, the arrow dove to the ground. I had shot short of my target. The deer bolted across the road and was gone.

When I went to retrieve my arrow, which I was sure stuck in the ground, I could not find it. There was no blood anywhere, so I knew it was a complete miss. The lighted knock on my arrow wasn’t showing either, and with dark approaching, I’d have to go home with one less arrow. Even the next day I could not find my arrow. I’m sure it’s under the leaves somewhere, but for the time being, I resigned to the fact I’d have to make a trip to store for a new supply.

So I didn’t get a deer…yet. I didn’t get to fulfill my dream of getting the grand slam…yet. What I did get was an experience I can be proud of; I didn’t let other hunters interfere with my plans. I was able to find my own spot, set up and actually see a deer all on my own. This is a big deal since I’ve never had a lot of confidence in finding new deer spots. While I still need to work on flinging my arrow, I’ll take my accomplishment and know that next time, I hopefully won’t miss my mark. After all, it is a learning process and each time I go out, I learn something more about bow hunting and myself.

What I also learned was to be persistent, and persevere….never give up..even if you aren’t an expert…yet.

Wish me luck!

 

 

 

I Finally Get My Bear!

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My bear on camera

I sat all week in my stand. I had an exciting night after only the second night, and that’s always hard to follow. You wonder if you’ve scared everything out with all the commotion of jumping two bear in one night. The following night had nothing except a pine marten to watch, and of course the red squirrels. They were unfazed by the action and were already at the bait when I arrived.

Friday was going to be a late day. I had to be in Bangor most of the day and wouldn’t get home until at least 2-3pm. We dropped the four-wheeler the night before because we planned to bring the camper to the mountain for the three day weekend. As soon as we got home, we were rushing to get everything packed. I had no time to stop for food so we’d have to get it on our way up or come back to town on Saturday morning.

We dropped the camper and got changed into our hunting clothes. By the time I made it to my bait site, it was close to 5:15 pm. This is the latest I have ever hunted, and I wasn’t very hopeful. I even texted to John, “Looks pretty quiet here :-\”. The two hour sit passed pretty quickly. I saw the pine marten again, and the red squirrels. I watched a Barred Owl land right beside me on a branch; I was in my blind and he couldn’t see me. Before I could get my phone out of my pocket to take a picture, he flew down to catch a mouse–or maybe one of those red squirrels–wishful thinking. I couldn’t move much because I was holding my gun on my lap. Last year, I used Tyler’s .270 rifle, but this year I had opted to use my Remington .260 rifle since I’m more comfortable with it, not to mention it’s a shorter gun, and that made it easier for me to maneuver inside of my blind.

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Perfect shot is to left of white bucket.

The blind had sagged down in the front a bit, and I found myself scrunching my neck to see at a distance out of the opening, which in turn, made my neck stiff. As shooting hours were coming to a close, I bent my neck down to stretch it, and I was thinking I wasn’t going to see anything that night. As I looked up, there he was. In that short time, the bear was within a few feet left of my bait barrel, making his way, standing broadside..in the perfect spot.
I still had about 13 minutes of shooting time.
He looked like one of the big ones!
I wasted no time. I pulled up my gun, I took aim, and I fired.
I hit him in the lungs with my first shot. He bolted to my right and went into the thick underbrush. He wasn’t down yet. I could still hear him gasping,  gurgling and pacing. I was pretty sure I had mortally wounded him, but I worried it might take a bit before he expired.

John texted me, “Was that you?” I responded, “Yes.” He then called me and told me to stay put, and that he’d come in for me in about five minutes. He didn’t want me to try to get down with an injured bear nearby. I was okay with that, even though I wasn’t scared.

John headed in armed with his flashlight, his .44 magnum rifle as well as his bear cannon on his hip. As he rounded the bottom of the hill in the trail, he met a bear. The bear bolted and ran straight up the hill to my stand, then made a sharp left turn crashing out into the woods. I watched John’s light come up the trail. By then, it was dark.

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I wouldn’t want those claws swiping at me!

About a minute later, he got to my stand. He thought the bear he had jumped was the one I shot…“No”, I said, “he’s still over there,” as I pointed right into the woods. He quickly climbed into the stand with me and sat down at my feet. Bears can be mean, and neither he nor I wanted to be mauled by a wounded bear. Most importantly, I didn’t want the bear’s death to linger. I wanted him to die sooner than later. He gave me his .44 rifle while I somehow put my gun behind me.

We shined our flashlights and tried to spot the bear with no luck. Since we could only hear it,  and not see it, John yelled, “Hey Bear!”

That’s all it took. The bear charged toward our lights out of the brush. John put a final shot into it with the canon. Then came the death moan. We waited to make sure the bear had died, and only then were we finally able to get out of the stand. There was no cheering, high fives or screams of conquer. I went over to see my bear. I thanked him for providing food for my family. The first thing I did was look to see where I had hit him. I was glad to see my shot had been a good one. I shot him in the lungs. He would have died, but it would have been slow if John hadn’t taken another shot.

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We dragged the bear out of the woods and put him onto the four-wheeler. We then went to another part of the property of field dress him. He wasn’t as big as I thought, but still an adult male bear (boar). He was about 120-130 pounds, the average size of a Maine bear. I’m proud of my bear. No, he wasn’t one of the monsters coming in, but he’s a good healthy bear that’s going to feed my family well.

We took him home and put him on ice since none of the tagging stations were open that late. In the morning, I tagged my bear at the local store and then did some quick poses for the camera. John tackled the skinning, and I took care of the meat. The bear meat will be much enjoyed part of our winter meals.

I’m proud my grandchildren also got to see their Momi’s bear. Mr. B. told me, “Good Job Momi”, and he wants to go bear hunting with me. Ms. Nat liked his soft furry bears ears and kept wanting to pet him. We talked about having a meal of bear roast at Momi and Paw Paw’s. It was pretty special showing the kids where our food comes from.

My bear is off to the taxidermist to be made into a mount. He’s really special and I want to remember this hunt. He’s not what some would call a trophy, but I do.

As happy as I was that I finally got a bear after three years of hunting, I couldn’t understand why my bear hadn’t died instantly. I pride myself in the fact that all of my animals die with one shot, and they die quickly. John explained to me that bear have tough coats and a lot of fat for a bullet to pass through…and bear just die a lot harder. Even though my gun works well for deer, we’re thinking it wasn’t enough for the bear. We’ve decided I need to use a bigger caliber gun for my next hunt; a moose hunt three weeks from now, and I want that moose down when I shoot.

This whole process has been a great learning experience for me–from lugging bait, checking cameras to shooting the bear, and the emotions that follow–the amount of work has been thoroughly enjoying to me. I’ve been able to do the entire process as Maine Guide would with John, my very best friend, and that in turn will help me in the future when I decide to guide other women.

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Getting ready to go tag my bear, then get some “fancy” pics.

As for my quest for the Grand Slam, I’m half way there. I have my spring turkey and my bear. I still have to get a moose and a deer, and then I’ll be one of the few hunters who get to claim this accomplishment. There still will be no high fives or cheering, but just contentment that I’m representing all those women hunters by being a woman of the Maine outdoors, and knowing I can help provide great tasting game for my family to enjoy.

Wish me luck in September!

Did I Just See A Bear?!

At times, the silence is so profound, you wonder if you’re deaf…until you hear something.

Day one of bear season was uneventful. The winds were gusting, and even though the temps were cooler, no bear showed. I had set since about 2pm until 8 pm. My butt was sore, but I wasn’t discouraged.

redbottleDay two was also cool, but with little to no wind. Bears would be moving. Instead of going at 2pm, we were there at 4:30. “Still plenty of time to get in our stand before a bear shows.” John and I decided to “scent up” the bait sites since it was nice and quiet. I took my time walking into the site, not only to walk with the breeze, but also to not become a sweat-fest after all the time I took to de-scent myself. The wind was blowing up the hill so in my mind, when you hunt the wind, you cover your scent downwind. To help me come in undetected, I decided to squirt a little Big Bear Scents Ultra Red Smoky Bacon scent attractant on a tree or fern ever fifty feet or so. Good thing I love bacon!

As I made my way up the trail, I kept a mental note of where the stumps are located in the woods. These stumps are black for some unknown reason, and on more than one occasion they have tricked me into thinking I was seeing a bear. As I approached the top of the trail, I spotted a black spot. I stood there trying to figure out if it was the stump located just behind my bait. About the time I took my gun off my shoulder to get a better look, that stump took off like a bolt of lightening. That “stump” was a small bear!

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About the size of the bear I jumped.

Now, I have never seen a bear in the wild, let alone while bear hunting. To put it mildly, I was relieved I wasn’t all out terrified by seeing it. In fact, I was excited. “Perhaps it will come back. I really want to get a bear.” 

In an effort to not make any more noise and in case there was another bear nearby, I decide against spraying up the bait site and go directly to my blind. It’s more noisy than I like and I don’t have a lot of room. In an effort to keep quiet, I decide to put my jug of spray on the ground between the ladder and tree. “I’m only 40 feet at the most, from my bait, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. And then I won’t knock it out somehow and make noise.”

I text John to let him know I jumped a bear. He said it would be back. In my mind I was sitting pretty. I sat and watched out into the woods. I see what I think is a bear cub. Are you freaking kidding me?! The animal hops like a baby animal. It has a longer tail. Not a cub. Phew! Porcupine? No. Porcupines don’t act like that. Then out of the bushes comes a pine marten. In an instant the squirrels and chipmunks run for cover. He doesn’t stay long, and later I spot it again off in the distance. Thinking back, I’m still not convinced I didn’t see a cub.

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Pine Marten on small white bucket…note stump.

At times, the silence is so profound, you wonder if you’re deaf…until you hear something. Around 7:20 pm, the time when bear have been showing up on my site, I hear a noise behind me. Twigs, many twigs, breaking with every step. Very deliberate stepping, very steady. Very big footed and heavy sounding unlike a deer. Definitely a bear.

The bear walked right up behind my stand and stopped right at it. “I CAN HEAR HIM SNIFF MY FREAKING JUG OF SPRAY, BUT I DON’T DARE MOVE TO SEE HIM! I AM SUCH AN IDIOT.”  I don’t dare breathe. I don’t dare move, or even swallow or blink my eyes. As fast as he was there, he turned and walked back down the trail. He had smelled my bear spray that I had sprayed on my way in.

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Might have been this bear..he’s a big one.

I figure my night is over. I get out my phone and text John, “Be careful, bear in trail.” and put my phone away. John won’t let me walk out alone so I sit until he arrives with his hand cannon (aka bear handgun) and retrieves me. I’m pretty proud that I didn’t get scared, and about the time I’m sitting there all smug, when I hear the bear AGAIN. He was coming back, but making a circle. Damn it. It’s now 7:30. He’ll never get to the bait before shooting hours close.  I didn’t know if I’d have enough light to see him. I sit still. He came back quicker than I thought he would.  He walked to the right of my stand where I had put some cherry flavored unsweetened cool-aid mix on some leaves. “It was meant for the site, but I didn’t want to scare anything off.”  He really liked it. I could hear him, but STILL couldn’t see him! I wasn’t moving a muscle. In concentrating on him, I hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten. I figured I only had about five more minutes of shooting time, and then I wouldn’t be able to shoot him.

Then my eyes spotted him. There he was about 10 feet out in front my stand in the underbrush. A big – HUGE – black blob just standing there! I’m thinking, “it’s now or never.”  I pull my gun up.
He’s still standing there. There is nothing but silence.

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The opening in the under-forest where I spotted the bear.

I carefully stick my gun out the window of the blind. If only I didn’t have a this damn blind around me! I never thought I’d hear myself thinking that.

Before I even get the gun to my eye, he bolted. He was gone. I could hear him circling and  running around out in front of me in the woods. He was gone. I hope he’s not gone for good. I think he’s the bear that left a big pile of poop for me the night before. For now, he was gone.

Now tell me that baiting is easy…that bear hunting is easy. It’s not. I’m still hoping my “Plan B” will be able to happen. It won’t unless I can find a way to not involve a sow and cubs that managed to be the only thing to come to my bait that night. The weirdest thing is that I had nothing on my camera from the bear I jumped nor the one the bolted in the end, so I’m still unsure which bear I had seen.

I will never forget this night of hunting. It was exciting, thrilling, challenging and in the end, a bit regretful for this things I did, and didn’t do. I try not to stew on the shoulda- woulda-coulda things and just take it as a learning experience. After all, how many people can say they got to experience what I did?

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The bear I think I saw…dang.

I’ll be back out in the woods tonight, scenting up the site, and not my tree stand…and hoping Mr. Bear (any bear but a sow with cubs) returns.

Wish me luck! I’m obviously going to need some.

 

 

I’m in the Dog (uh Bear) House

Baiting for bear requires a lot of steps: filling the bait barrel, putting out caramel, re-dipping the anise oil wick, filling the grease and nougat buckets, scenting up the area with grease…and lastly, setting the camera.

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My bait site with my new popcorn barrel…holes stuffed with marshmallows

I always start with the camera first to remove the SD card and put a new one in; however I never start the camera until we are done all of our work.

 

At my site, the bait was all gone. It was filled the most bait we’ve ever put in a barrel. I also had a popcorn wheel that was added bonus, and that too was emptied. I changed out the batteries in my game camera as they only showed 13% life, and I want them to make it through the week. The bear were busy this past week, and I couldn’t wait to see my videos

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First Bear in since adding popcorn barrel-perfect shooting time

Off to John’s site. As we approached the site, we scanned for bear and saw the barrel was down. That means we had bear. The videos will tell us how many, how big and most importantly what time  the bear were there. As we go to get the SD card, we found the camera was open. At first, I was hoping the bear had been there, but the SD card was never pushed in, and the camera was never activated. With bear season beginning Monday, August 29th, this week was the most important in collecting information for the hunt.

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To put it mildly, John was…well you know…PO’d. To make an argument short, he’s now in charge of his own camera.

We didn’t speak to each other until we got back to the truck. We loaded our gear and headed out to find mushrooms. We found an off-road and stopped in the shade to view the one card with videos.

As we moved through the videos, I had at least three different bear on my site. One video showed a shootable bear being chased off the bait by another bear. (See Facebook to see it.)  I think I actually heard the bear in the background on the previous video, but he didn’t actually show until dark.

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That was only until Tuesday. My camera batteries gave out on Tuesday and there were no more videos to watch. No videos of my popcorn wheel being emptied, no videos of whoever else came in and most importantly when. I do have a bear coming in right at dusk so my hopes are someone will be back on Monday. The sow and cubs hadn’t returned, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t come in later. Guess Monday will be a surprise for all of us. Stay tuned.

We ended our day with some fly fishing therapy on the Dead River. John broke the no-fish-caught streak all the campers were having when he hauled in a nice 15 inch landlocked salmon. What a beauty…Tomorrow nights supper.

PS…My blind is still up and no bear tried to eat a camera this week.