Category: Wilderness

Fish Tales from the Dead

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The Fish That Almost Wasn’t

It’s been an better-than-average spring thus far for fishing the Dead River. We’ve fished it enough to learn what to use when, and have worked our way up from not catching anything to catching pretty often. Unlike last year, this year, it’s been a bonanza as we’ve been very successful in the spring catch of landlocked salmon and native brook trout. Knowing what to use is the key to catching fish.

Fishing the Dead River can be frustrating. If it’s down at night, it could be high in the morning because often times the river levels are determined by the white water rafting schedules. I keep the release dates bookmarked on my phone so I can check to see if the river will rise. If it does, it doesn’t drop until 1 p.m. “They say” the best fishing is right after the drop. Honestly, the best fishing is first thing in the morning before they open the dam, and at night when the mayflies hatch or when the fish are feeding just before sunset. This coincides when fish usually feed.

One Sunday, as soon as the river dropped, the trucks poured in. Men in their waders grabbed spots quicker than I could get my waders on despite the fact the water wasn’t even fish-able yet. My mistake. So as I got ready to fish, there was ONE spot open on the island…one spot that was also one of my favorites. As I got ready to cross onto the island, a guy fishing to the left looked over his shoulder and quickly scooted into the spot I had eyed for myself. I was annoyed, but there was still one spot left on the far right near the rapids, IF I could get there first. I quickly changed direction and tried to get over there as quick as I could.

DEAD RIVER AREAAs I made my way across the pools and around to the end, I notice a hatch taking place. I felt like I as being invaded by tiny blue-green bugs and they floated and flew all around me. Some type of mayfly, but to me it didn’t matter. I had my sinking line on my rod that I use with nymphs. There was no chance I was going back to change my lines since this was my ace in the hole, and the only spot open.

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My fly boxes sorted by fly type

I pulled out my dry fly box and retrieved a Blue Wing Olive and tied it onto my tippet (the end of my line). I made my way to my spot. The guy fishing where I originally wanted to fish was throwing his line about half way down to me on my left. Perfect. I’d fish more to the left and have access to the deeper water and where the fish were jumping on my right. Meanwhile another fisherman came up and started fishing behind me in the large pool. I kept thinking, “Please don’t hook me”.

I took a couple casts to get the hang of the sinking line with the lure. The lure would float at first, then quickly sink from the weight of the line and the fast current. I took a third cast and landed a small 10 inch salmon. I let it go. The fish were jumping, so I concentrated on placing my fly above the jumps and drifting the fly toward the fish. My confidence was building…I cast again. On the fifth cast, just as my fly started to sink, I got a hit!

The hit was so hard and strong that fish began to run and fight, and the line was stripping out of my hand that was holding the line. As I began reeling in my excess line,  the entire reel fell off my rod!!!! Luckily I was still holding onto it! I tried for a brief moment to put it back on, but a one-handed attempt was asking to lose the fish I had fighting at the end of my line. I quickly stuffed the reel into my waders so I was once again using two hands to fight this fish.

I finally got the line stripped back in so that I could net my beast. He was huge! It’s the biggest salmon I’ve ever caught. The net barely held it. Its tail hung out and in one giant flop, he was out of the net again. After netting the fish a second time: this time holding onto the tail through the net, and schlepping all my gear and line out of the deep water, I blurted out to the guy fishing behind me that I had caught my biggest fish ever. He seemed undaunted. The girl on shore with the cell phone trying to get reception (LMAO- as if) looked at me like I was a crazed woman. The guy off to my left was now changing out his fly/lure…lol.

IMG_20170529_145015211I was elated, and at that point, I decided I wasn’t stopping until I got my fish on the tailgate of the truck so I gave up my spot and headed up. I killed my fish, (which is really humane) and set him on the tailgate. I tried to take a selfie but my arm wasn’t long enough and the fish was too big!

To my surprise, NO ONE had taken my spot in the ten minutes I took to deliver my fish to the truck. I headed back down and reclaimed my spot. Three casts later I was hauling in my second largest fish I’ve ever caught. I was so excited. The kid fishing behind me now had questions and was offering up his help to keep this fish in my net. What are you using? What are you catching? Where should I cast? The guy to my left was still changing out his flies. Me, I was on Cloud 9! Worst part was that hubby had made his way up the upper pool and had no idea I was slamming the fish.

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Hubby finally showed up to get a photo of my fish…me out of my waders.

I gave up my spot. I had my two limit salmon and the kid behind me was dying to try my spot. I gave him a few pointers before I left. The guy who had been fishing on my left…left.

I took my fish up the truck and laid it next to the first one. Fish number one measured 21.5 inches, and fish number two measured 19.5 inches. A number of people who showed up to fish just as I was trying to take pictures of my fish had lots of questions. It felt great to share my experience…and to see the little glean of envy from the men. It’s not often I get to catch a big one, let alone two, so it felt wonderful.

So all those guys thought they had the best spot, but I was the one who had the best catch. Lesson learned. There’s fish everywhere…you just have to know how to catch em…

Happy Fishing and always remember to share your knowledge, and to be a courteous fisherman.

 

 

Foraging for Mushrooms in the Maine Woods

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A couple years ago, I got interested in finding edible wild mushrooms. I never imagined how addictive foraging can be, but the bug bit, and it bit hard, not only for me, but the hubby as well. When we’re in the woods, we spend as much time searching for mushrooms and trying to identify them, as we look for critter sign.

I started out finding the “easy” ones and found them behind my house. Lobster mushrooms were one of the first. Lobster mushrooms are bright orange and ugly. I have slowly been learning different mushrooms, and verifying my finds before ever considering putting anything in my mouth. Lobster mushrooms have a weird texture and although they supposedly have a lobster taste, I didn’t like them.

Lobster mushroom
They tend to be dirty.

 

We’ve also found loads of Chaga mushroom. Chaga has lots of medicinal properties and makes a wonderful tea after you grind it. It’s more like wood than mushroom, and you can’t saute it and throw it on a burger. However, it’s highly prized and sought after, and I have a load of it. Having a husband who cuts trees all day has proved to be advantageous in finding Chaga.

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Biggest piece of chaga ever scored…15 pounds and it’s only half of it!

I’ve also found Reishi, but haven’t tried it. I’ve heard you can cook it on the barbecue, but it’s most often used in tinctures as a medicinal supplement…hence, I recognize it, but I haven’t used it.IMG_20160717_121857252

Once I starting being able to identify mushrooms, I expanded my search to oysters. Oyster mushrooms vary during different times of the season, but spring oysters are easy to find because of the anise-like smell they have, and they grow distinctly on popular trees. I prefer fall oysters to the taste of spring oysters. Fall oysters seem dryer, and more like the mushrooms bought in the store.

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Fall oysters found in the fall while deer hunting.

The real addiction came when we found Chanterelle mushrooms. Chanterelles are said to be one of the most tasty wild mushrooms, and I can’t agree more. No matter how they are cooked, they are delicious! They are easy to spot since they are bright yellow in the woods, but their look-a-like Jack-o-lantern mushrooms are extremely poisonous and should not be confused with Chanterelles. There is also a Scaly Vase Chanterelle and False Chanterelles that some mistake as the good one. False chanterelles tend to be more orange-brown and the stems are different and it’s toxic…so it’s very important to make sure you know what you’re picking. Click here for more pictures and more information on chanterelles compared to look-a-likes

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Mushroom season is just kicking off. I follow Maine Mushrooms on Facebook and have learned a lot of information from other mushroom foragers. I also have a book on mushroom identification I keep handy.

In particular, this is morel season. Morels are said to be mostly in the southern Maine and the coast, so the last thing I ever expected to find was a morel north of Waterville, Maine. But I did. I scored big! Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d find a morel. You have to be almost on top of one to not miss it. They are easy to miss since they blend in so well. It’s not a mushroom you can spot from far away. I was lucky and found one standing all by itself on the side of a logging road. Hubby and I decided to really hunt and we found several more. We went over the same area where we initially found them, and found a few more we had missed the first time!

Morels of all sizes
Cluster of morels I walked by once before seeing them second time around.
Morel (r) next false morel on left…never eat false morel!
Various sizes of morels

Morels have to be cooked. I chose to coat mine in flour and saute them. I only cooked half of them so I could try them just sauteed. The bigger ones had more flavor, and I can say I like them as much as chanterelles! I’m ready to go find more!

Still on my bucket list: Trumpets, Chicken of the Woods, and Hen of the woods, which I’ve never found any of them, and Bolettes, which I’ve found plenty but have yet to feel comfortable enough to eat one.

Foraging for mushrooms is a lot of fun and is a great way to spend time in the woods when you can’t fish or hunt. Hopefully I’ll be back with more tales of my foraging.

Silence Is NOT Golden When It’s Turkey Season!

Each year, I usually bag my turkey on the first day, so this year, I expected nothing less.

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I absolutely love turkey hunting. It was the first hunt I ever tried, and was the hunt that got me hooked on hunting. Each year, I usually bag my turkey on the first day, so this year, I expected nothing less.

Two weeks before the season started, turkeys showed up in our horse pasture daily. We could sit on the back deck and listen to the gobbles in the woods. A slam of a car door and the bark of a dog would send gobbles throughout the woods.

Logitech bluetooth speaker
One of many turkey calling apps for phones

The Friday before open season, I went down to my closest treestand. I brought along a Bluetooth speaker and hung it in a nearby tree with the volume cranked. The speaker amplified my turkey calls I had downloaded on my phone. I climbed into my treestand and opened up the turkey call application. A push of the “Turkey Cackle 1” and I had an answer. Gobbles nearby on my left.
I played it again.
Another response on my right!
Before I knew it, I had three jakes and a hen approaching on my right. The hen was actually chasing after the three jakes to keep up.

turkeys 4aThey were confused. Where is that hen? The turkeys walked by and once out of sight, I gave another call. They answered, came back and circled around me. The leading jake is almost fully mature, and he began to do his strut dance followed by a gobble. They weren’t alarmed since they continued to scratch and peck the ground as they moved.

As the turkeys circled me, they still didn’t know I was in the treestand. Off to my right a second gobbler also answered my call. I was having a blast!

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Turkey on the left ruffled up for the dance.

Finally the two groups of birds found each other, and I no longer mattered. They all headed away from me. Silence. Once they were gone, I climbed out my treestand and went back to the house.

Sunday, the day before the season opened, I headed back to my treestand. I used my same method of calling with the Bluetooth, but got no response. I covered a large amount of ground trying to call in a turkey while also checking my two game cameras. Just when I was about to give up, I got a response on the far end of the woods. They were still in the area! I quickly turned around and walked away.

Opening day and it was pouring. Pouring and my hunting partner was in no mood to venture out into it. By 2 p.m., the rain seemed to stop until we actually stepped out of the house. It was just a few intermittent showers to keep us moving, but listening for gobbles was not easy.

 

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We tried calling. No answers. We made a big circle and got to where I heard turkeys the day before. They weren’t responding to the mouth call John was using, so he took out the slate call and gave a try.

Instantly we had cackling, but no gobbling. We quickly set up the decoys and waited. No more replies, no responses and no gobbling.
Did they see us? Did we scare them off?
Did they hear us?
Perhaps I need to bring my Bluetooth next time…
Obviously they didn’t fall for our attempts to call them in.
We never heard any more turkeys the remainder of the hunt.

Silence. Nothing but silence. Let’s hope a couple days of rest and rain and they’ll come back and be ready for some gobbles. I have more tricks up my sleeve, so I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.

turkey tracks

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Few years back when I went turkey hunting with John and my oldest son, Zack.

Earth Day is Every Day

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Last summer I had the opportunity to attend a week long conference in Boston. It was a new adventure and learning experience for me that I hadn’t ever done before.

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Freeport, Maine

Driving the turnpike into Massachusetts was depressing. I couldn’t but help notice the overwhelming amount of garbage on the side of the road, not just the highway, but also the local streets, the lawns, and the rotary intersections littered with trash. I actually wrote a letter to the city of Revere, and told them that the trash is a huge disappointment for someone who’s visiting. After all, who wants to see trash everywhere? When I go to Florida, I don’t see this kind of trash unless a trash truck catches on fire, and has to be dumped in order to put the fire out, which actually happened.

I’ve always had a certain pride for the fact that Maine’s highways don’t look like Massachusetts’ highways. Or do they?

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Litter on all sides of the roads on the highway

Now that snow has melted and the grass is showing, my family went in search of a used Jon boat for the son to bass fish. As we cruised down I-295 on Saturday, I couldn’t stop looking at the huge amounts of trash. Where does all this come from? Commuters, I suspect. There were beer boxes, beverage cups, plastic bags, wrappers, more cups, broken plastic from vehicle crashes, but mostly trash that had been tossed out the car window during the winter. The closer we got to Portland, the more trash I saw on the sides of the road.

Sunday wasn’t much better. We were on the road again, and cruised our way an hour beyond Portland. We took the Maine Turnpike, and even though there was a considerable amount of trash in the beginning, it seemed to taper off until we were past Portland. I think this directly relates to the cost of travel on the Interstate, and that more people use I-295 to commute. The result is the same…trash. Lots of trash thrown out, and now clearly visible since the snow melt.

litter crewThis got me looking in other places. On Monday, I traveled to Norridgewock and to Farmington. Hardly any trash compared to the highway. I did see a worker with a large garbage back picking up trash along Route 2. The worker was from the Waste Management landfill just down the road. I can bet that most of that trash wasn’t from their trucks, but from other trash carrying vehicles or people who feel the need to toss their cup. Was it his job to pick up the trash along US Route 2?  No, but the trash guy was out there picking it up because they get blamed for all the trash. Image maybe, but at least someone was picking it up. But just think of how much money it is costing to pick up this trash? The numbers are staggering. Just type in roadside trash pickup and see millions of dollars quoted to pick up litter.

So why do I bring this up? Earth Day was April 22 with a March for Science planned in  spots through Maine. The theme for 2017 is Environmental and Climate Literacy. I have a real problem with this because not one time did I ever see anything that mentioned a simple clean-up day. There was no call to action to save our planet by picking up trash, a clear environmental issue. There was no mention of it all. Marches everywhere, but no action to truly love our planet by doing something.

EPA logoAs a kid, we always had a clean-up day on Earth Day. Neighbors, kids, Boy and Girl Scouts, churches, and organizations all planned a day of beautification. I remember as a kid getting my free EPA sticker kit from a KIX box of cereal. We had the saying, “Give a Hoot, Don’t Pollute” and the unforgettable television ad, “Keep America Beautiful” from the 1970’s that made us all aware of our actions. We rarely, if ever, hear these types of messages now.

It is not the job of the state or interstate commission to pick up all the trash on the highway. Eventually the plastic and trash will be mowed over and spread out so it won’t be as noticeable, but it will still be there. It is everyone’s job to not litter in the first place. No matter how many demands for paper cups instead of plastic and to do away with the plastic grocery bags, if it becomes litter, it’s still litter, and it’s still polluting our precious Earth.

I for one, love to be out in the woods enjoying nature. The last thing I ever want to see is trash. I don’t want to see trash anywhere except the trashcan or the landfill. The next time you have the urge to toss out that small wrapper because it won’t really matter, take a gander around and see how much trash you’re contributing to the problem. Lots of little litters make for big pollution that can affect our waters we fish in, and lakes we swim in, and that can mean big problems for our health.

If you really want to celebrate Earth Day, do it every day.

It doesn’t take a march or even a special day to make a difference. Truly love the Earth in the little ways you can make a difference. How you ask?

  1. Don’t litter.
  2. Pick up litter when you see it.
  3. Set an example for others.
  4. Bring a trash bag with you to put trash in.

See you in the woods, and remember to Make Every Day an Earth Day.

 

Game Camera Surprises and Shocks

Then came the SHOCK…I have never seen a deer injured let alone on my camera

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This time of year I look forward to checking my cameras. Not much for deer comes in the winter. They move to their deer yard, but once the snow melts, the deer return to my area. Last year, we had several does with fawns visit, but for the time being I expect to see the usual critters as well as some pretty hungry deer. I put out some minerals for them. I’m afraid to give them grain or corn, but they seem to like the minerals. Even after the minerals dissolve in the ground, the deer will paw at it to get what they can.

Brody

I get excited to see what’s on my camera. This day, I had my grandson in tow and he was a blast. I had him try to find my tree stand and then we stopped and looked at deer poop, sprouting acorns, and pine cones. He got to splash in the puddles and I got to retrieve my SD card. We ended the adventure by sneaking up on the frogs.

 

First come the surprises. I saw my usual racoon and porcupine. Then came the candy; i.e., the deer. I love seeing deer on my camera. I had a single deer nervous and actually jumped when a turkey gobbled. You can see the actual video on my Facebook page. I had a turkey hen clucking and yelping, and a doe with two yearlings. I suspect this is the doe that had triplets.

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Then came the SHOCK…I have never seen a deer injured let alone on my camera, but there she was. My first reaction was coyotes, but then we decided she was the victim of a car accident. I can only hope that her body heals enough so that the blackflies can’t feast on her. You never know what you’re gonna get on your game cameras. Nature is cruel. What do you think happened to her? I’ll try to post more videos on my Facebook page. I don’t know if they’ll allow them so stay tuned. PS…my date is wrong on the camera. These are this year’s photos….

Deer

 

Distracted Driving of the Wildlife Kind

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distracted drivingThere’s lots of talk these days about cell phone usage, texting while driving and distracted driving. Distracted driving does involve many scenarios, and I recently experienced a new sort of distracted driving even I had never considered. I’ve always prided myself in the fact that I never text and drive, only answer calls if I think I can, never make calls while driving, and never, ever, put on makeup while driving…well okay, I hardly wear makeup and I put it on at home.

My commute from home to work is roughly thirty minutes. Most of the time, I take the rural route, but with roads beginning to heave and buckle from frost and my fearing the car would be damaged, I opted for the smooth interstate route from Waterville.

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Turkey flying over the road Route 8 & 11, Belgrade. I pulled over to get this shot.

I have a tendency to speed on the interstate, so I set my cruise control and go into auto-pilot. Just like many people, I arrive at work not remembering the commute unless I see wildlife along the way. Traffic usually runs pretty good with little congestion, and I cruise my way to work. As many of you may know from my Wonderful Week of Wildlife Facebook posts, I see a lot of animals in my travels. I love spotting animals in my travels, especially ones just inside the treeline.

Fawn on Route 8

On the interstate, I have several spots that I look for wildlife. Once the snow starts to melt, the critters begin moving. I spend a considerable amount of time with my head turned sideways looking for them. I’ve seen more deer, groundhog, skunk, racoon, and turkeys from the road than from hunting, and this day was no different.

Groundhog
Deer
Spring moose yearling

One particular morning, as I was cruising, a red fox ran across the road some 500 yards ahead of me. I didn’t get a good look because it was so far away. I was particularly excited since I rarely see fox, and had never seen one on the interstate before. Ahead of me, drove a black Toyota, but it was some 300 or so yards away. As I approached where the fox crossed, I cranked my head left to see if I could spot him. No luck.

I look back to driving. As I looked up I found myself almost on top of the black Toyota that had also decided to slow down for the fox. I slammed on my breaks and veered left, just missing the Toyota. I broke out in a sweat, totally embarrassed by the near miss. As I passed the Toyota, the driver never even looked, apparently completely unphased or unaware of what had just happened.

I learned my lesson, and I’m so thankful I didn’t crash. I’ve had to tame my urges to look for wildlife. If I see something, I no longer try to see it run off into the woods. I’ll still get plenty of opportunity to see wildlife…that’s why John drives when we go for rides. I get to do all the looking then!

In the meantime, my eyes are on the road. Make sure yours are too.

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Expanded Archery Tales

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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.

 

 

 

 

Muzzleloader Memories

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In Maine, muzzleloader season commences immediately after the regular firearm season ends. This gives a hunter two more weeks of hunting with less pressure since fewer hunters own muzzleloaders or take advantage of this season. The first muzzleloader we owned was one we bought for my oldest son to use; however, I ended up using it. I am proud to say I was the first one to shoot a deer with it and I’ve used it several times. Since then we’ve gotten a second muzzleloader, but I have yet to shoot anything with it because I either tagged out before muzzleloader season, or didn’t get a deer at all.

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Old fashioned black powder gun photo found on Pinterest

This is my  story about a muzzleloader hunt and the gun I used, a CVA .50 caliber rifle. It’s the new kind of muzzleloader, which at first some hunters mocked because it’s so easy to use.  Unlike Laramy “Sasquatch” Miller, the mountain guy who pours the black powder into his gun and loads a ball inside a wad of cotton, we drop three gunpowder pellets called charges down the barrel. Then using the long rod, we press the sabot and bullet down into the barrel. The gun isn’t considered loaded until we place the primer, also called the cap, into place with a special tool. Our particular model takes a .209 cap, which is simply the size of the cap. The difference between rifle and muzzleloader hunting is that you only get one shot with a muzzleloader and then have to reload it in the field.

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The primer sits in the tiny hole…trying putting one there with big fingers or cold fingers…almost impossible! photo: armslist.com

Our first muzzleloader was harder to use that our current one. It was almost impossible to get a primer into the gun without the special tool. Luckily, our new gun has a barrel that breaks open. Another issue with the first gun is the bolt was forever coming unlatched and the bolt would open. On more than one occasion, I’d lose the bolt right out of the gun, and onto the ground on my way into the stand. I finally figured out I needed to carry it on my right shoulder so the bolt handle wouldn’t catch on my jacket and get flipped open.

One year I hadn’t gotten my deer yet, so I bought my muzzleloader permit and planned to hunt. I also had an any-deer permit so the last thing I wanted was for that to go to waste. I hadn’t seen a deer all season. All I needed to do was see a deer to shoot….just one.

Overnight, we were graced with a huge dumping of snow, which was still falling when we headed out. The snow was soft and deep and best of all: quiet. John and I headed out back to look for deer sign. Before we even went 100 yards, we found brand new tracks in the snow. John decided to follow the tracks and went left. I was to circle around by the gravel pit right, and see if anything had come my way.

The snow was deep and hiking through it wasn’t easy,  but it was incredibly quiet. As I rounded the pit and headed down the trail, I made my way almost to the end of it where it merges with another trail when I heard noise…deer noise. There in front of me at the top of the hill, were four big doe pawing for acorns under the newly fallen snow.  I stepped off to the left behind some trees. They hadn’t seen me. I was only 20-30 yards from them. As I readied my gun, I noticed the bolt was slightly open. I pushed the bolt closed, took the safety off, and took aim. As I looked through my scope, I tried to pick a deer that didn’t have another one right behind it. The last thing I needed to do was shoot two does. I decided on the one that gave me a perfect broadside shot.

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My first muzzleloader deer with the same gun- a story for another time.

I pulled the trigger.
NOTHING!! The gun didn’t fire. In my mind, I was screaming NO!
I took the gun and looked it over. I lifted the bolt up and down,  but didn’t cycle the bolt open because I didn’t want to make noise or take the chance of my primer falling out. I couldn’t see anything wrong with the gun. I took aim again and pulled the trigger. STILL NOTHING!! My gun wouldn’t fire. I tried again to figure out WHY... Then the deer noticed my movement. I looked up. They were looking at me. One stomped her foot…A few loud blows, and in a second, they all bolted. I was sick with failure and anger over the gun. Why hadn’t it shot?!

Standing there not believing what just happened, I opened and closed the bolt cycling it through the action and actually opening the chamber. The primer was in place.
So I pulled up and took aim at the big stump nearby. BAM! The air filled with smoke. The gun worked that time. F@&k!

John called me. “Did you get one?!” I couldn’t believe I had to tell him no.

Turns out this gun has a safety mechanism in it that prevents the gun from firing if the gun bolt comes open. The only way to cancel it is to fully open and close it. It would have been nice to know this…or better yet, IF I had simply cycled the bolt, I would have had a deer. The manual never mentioned this safety feature either… I still remember this moment like it was yesterday. Some hunts you never forget; I won’t this one. It was a true learning experience for me and to this day, every time I walk the hill where the does stood, it all comes back. I think what frustrated me the most is that I had shot a deer with this same muzzleloader in a previous year, so I couldn’t figure out what was different.

Although putting meat in the freezer is the best feeling, failure is sometimes part of the hunting experience.  I try not to dwell on unsuccessful hunts; dwelling makes one start second-guessing  one’s abilities, decisions, and whether or not one should be there. Don’t dwell. These are experiences I never would have had if I hadn’t started hunting. I got to see deer, and you can bet that whenever the son takes his gun out, I stick in a reminder to make sure to not let the bolt open.

I avoid the shoulda-woulda-coulda’s of regret. This year’s grand slam proved to me that I know how hunt. Things happen, and not every hunt will be a perfect textbook. Accept it and make changes when necessary, but never ever beat yourself up. That’s why we have next season–to do it all over again.

I’ll be back there next year ready for another great year of hunting. And when muzzleloader season gets here, and if I haven’t gotten my deer yet, I’ll be bringing the “new” muzzleloader out. Whatever type of hunting you do, be sure to get out there and enjoy every minute, even if it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted.

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Newest muzzleloader with break action. Loading is much easier with this type of firearm and has no bolt to fall out.

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.

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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!

 

 

Beaver: It’s What’s for Supper

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*warning: pictures of skinned beaver below

After we watched a couple of Alaska based reality shows where people ate beaver and raved about it being the best meat out there, we decided that if we caught a beaver, we’d at least try some.

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47 pound beaver!

Sure enough, we scored a huge beaver on the first day we checked traps. I watched John skin the beaver, remove the castor and then remove the tenderloins and hind quarters. As I held the meat in my hand, I was amazed at the tenderness of it. Unlike beef that’s quite firm and rarely flimsy when you hold a roast, the meat was almost soft.  I guess I’d describe it as soft and tender but also lean without lots of fat since we removed a lot of it as it was being prepared for cooking.

 

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Two hind quarters and tenderloins from beaver

I seared the meat and then it all went into the lined crock pot followed by a can of mushroom soup, one package of dry beef onion soup mix, and one can of water. The meat was topped with one pound of small golden potatoes, a small bag of baby carrots and a turnip. It cooked on low all day ,and when we got home, our supper was ready.

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I never came from a hunting family so every time I’ve tried game, it’s been a new experience, so in this case, it was nothing new to try something new. The youngest son opted out; he wouldn’t try it. That’s okay, because I’m not about to try his offering of a blood pancake. We all have our aversions to certain foods, and I respect his decision to not try it.

The meat fell off the bone. It was tender and moist and if I hadn’t made the meal myself, I would have thought I was eating pot roast. It was delicious! So all the rest of the beaver we’ve trapped have gone into the freezer with the turkey, moose, bear and deer already there. It will be nice to have more variety and not have to go to the grocery store as often. the one thing I learned is that I cooked way too much; there wasn’t a lot of meat shrinkage after cooking and we had more than one meal. I used the left overs and made a beaver pot pie for later. Our grandchildren loved the beaver meat too. It’s great when you can share times like these with little ones so they understand where food comes from.

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The leftover carcasses are being used for trapping more animals that need to be managed, and we have fleshed out the pelts for now. We may sell them, or we may just tan them ourselves. We haven’t decided.

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Beaver pelt with feet off to the side.

More stories hopefully to come as we continue our trapping journey to try to catch coyote, bobcat, fox and fisher. We’re up to six beaver with four in the freezer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My First Year of Beaver Trapping

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Dead trees from the work of a beaver.

So I have my trapping license. I hoped to trap a bear with a snare this season but wasn’t successful. My husband was a trapper many years ago and has also decided to trap again this year. He trapped muskrat and mink on the nearby stream as a means of income in his teen years. Although now there is no money to be made, trapping has a purpose. We have so many predators on our property that the animals they kill have declined rapidly. I’m hoping we can catch some coyotes, fox and bobcat to help level out the numbers so that rabbits, turkey and other small game have a better chance, and reduce diseases that get passed onto domestic animals.

The one thing I don’t want to do is water trapping. If you’ve read my blogs, you know I have a love-hate relationship with water, and even more so with cold, deep water. So hubby is doing the trapping for beaver and I’m the assistant. I stand on land, pass tools and help carry the game, but I don’t go in the water, and I don’t set the conibear traps.

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Pile of trees out in the middle of the pond. Winter’s feast

I’ve learned a great deal about beaver and beaver trapping. We’re trapping where a landowner has several beaver destroying his woodlot, now with three large ponds created by beaver. Full mature trees now are dead on his property. Beaver has caused many trees to die as they’ve flooded the area. They also chew down young saplings and haul them out into the middle of the pond to store for winter feed.

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Nice young tree ruined.

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See the trail the beaver has created by traveling through the woods.

Conibears are powerful instant killing traps. Traps are set in beaver chutes they create as they come in and out of the water. As the beaver enters the water, his head goes through the trap and trips it. The beaver is instantly killed as the trap shuts.

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Here you can see where the beaver has been sliding down the knoll and entering the water. It’s very deep where they enter. The perfect place for a trap.

John in waders set two traps. You not only have to set the trap, but you have to disguise the area so they don’t know it’s there and you also have to prevent them from going around the traps by setting up extra barriers. In this case, we use some of the already chewed wood to secure the trap and to guide the beaver into the trap.

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We came back the very next day and caught a huge beaver! The following night we caught two more. We’re now up to five and they’re still slapping their tales on the water when we show up.

Beaver caught
Using the setting tool to release the springs
Beaver almost out
Trap ready to be reset
A big one!
47 pound beaver!
Two in one night!

The landowner is very happy that we’re able to remove these beaver. It’s been an experience I won’t forget and who knows, perhaps I’ll try this beaver trapping with my own traps too. For now, I’m starting with land trapping. I say this is just the first year of my trapping because I don’t plan to stop. I have so much to learn and can’t wait for my first catch.

We’re using beaver for bear and fox bait, and we’re eating beaver next week!

Stay Tuned.

TBTuesday: My First Deer Hunt

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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.

 

 

Tracking Blood

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This whole grand slam was getting me nervous. As much as I love to hunt, I was worried I’d come up empty handed if I had only to rely on getting a buck. You think that the fact I hadn’t put meat in the freezer for two years would be incentive enough, but this basically “once in a lifetime chance”grand slam was compelling me to take new chances. Let’s face it; where I hunt there aren’t a lot of big bucks so I decided to stick to it for longer. Having a doe in the freezer is far better than waiting for a chance buck.

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Muzzy

After missing the doe during my first bow hunt and then losing my arrow, I made my trip to the local hardware/sporting goods store and stocked up on arrows and Muzzy broad head tips. I really like these tips because they feel manageable on my shorter arrows.

I only had a week left to hunt before archery season would end, so on a nice afternoon, I rearranged my work day and got out an hour early. I flew home and got my gear to go hunting. My youngest son was talking my ear off when I finally said, “I have to go. I’m running late and I only have an hour to hunt.” He wasn’t thrilled that I was off hunting again, but I promised I’d talk with him when I got home.

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My rock

I drove to my spot, parked my car as before, and schlepped all my gear up the hill. I thought I’d die gasping for air before I got there. I don’t usually have to hurry, but I wanted to get settled before the deer started coming out. I sprayed some doe pee on a leaf above me and on some as I came in to cover my scent. I sat at my rock and waited. I gave a couple doe bleats to start off the night.

It was windy so listening was a little discouraging. I took out my buck grunt and gave a couple grunts with it. I stood for a few minutes when my knee started hurting. I gave a couple more grunts and sat down. No sooner did I sit when my left eye started paining. These dang prescription glasses are annoying, but without them, I can’t see thirty feet in front of me! I was fumbling with my glasses when I heard a noise. There in directly in front of me about 10 yards away, a deer was coming right out of the woods! And me with no glasses on. I tried to get them on but I somehow made a “clink”; the deer turned broadside and walked away before I could even think of picking up my bow. I made a buck grunt. The deer stopped and stood there. I made another grunt, but messed up the ending when the call slipped out of my lips and fell in my lap. In an instant, the deer’s tail shot up, and she took off.

deer-shot-diagramI made another grunt hoping the deer would come back. Then I heard ch, ch, ch, ch-ch -ch, ch…more deer walking, so I continued to give low, short buck grunts. The noise continued but was getting louder. I was getting annoyed I couldn’t see any deer, so I leaned forward to look farther down the road. There about 40 yards out stood a deer on the left side of the road–broadside! She was definitely too far away to shoot at. So I gave some buck grunts. The deer lifted its head and walked toward me. She moved her head from side to side trying to figure out where Mr. Buck was. I had the buck grunt in my mouth and two hands on my bow. I got ready but didn’t draw. Using the spot I had missed my first deer as a distance gauge, I waited until she was close enough to shoot. She continued coming closer. It was getting dark. I could see her well, but she wasn’t broadside; more like barely broadside, but I had a target.

I drew my bow, taking time to aim through my peep site. She stood looking around. I released my bow and watched as the lighted arrow hit its mark. A fast, solid shot and a definite hit to the vitals. The doe turned and bolted with the arrow lighting the way.

I sat there in disbelief that I had finally gotten a deer with my bow. I couldn’t wait to tell the guys. I called John. No answer; he was still hunting expanded. I called my oldest son, Zack. No answer. So I called my youngest son, Tyler and asked him to bring me my bright flashlight. I took all my gear and headed to the car to put it away and meet my son. In the meantime, Zack called me back and within a matter of minutes he was there to help me find my deer. Tyler joined in, and the three of us set out to find the blood trail.

bloodIn no time, Tyler found the first spot of blood; a single drop on a leave. It wasn’t long before Zack found the big blood trail and eventually found my deer. By then we had made a small circle and John had joined the group. I thanked the deer and then the guys took on the task of field dressing and dragging the deer out for me. I was very grateful for all their help, and having all my boys there made it extra special. They were all congratulating me and I just beamed with pride.

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I tagged my deer and brought it home. I had intended to take it to a butcher, but ended up skinning and cutting up my deer, and preparing it for the freezer myself–a first. You truly appreciate your food when you know how much work goes into it, especially when you’re allergic to deer hair. Thankfully I had long rubber gloves to work with, and managed to keep my hands out of my eyes. My family is especially grateful for the meat we have in our freezer, and that in itself makes me a very proud hunter.

I can’t wait to send in all my information for my grand slam. I feel very accomplished but at the same time, I’m missing the morning sunrises and evening sits so much so, I’ve decided to hunt expanded archery in between trying to trap coyotes. Maybe I’ll get lucky and see a buck. Wish me luck!

If you are out in the woods hunting, don’t be afraid to take new path; it just might lead you to a deer. Adventure awaits!

 

 

Flinging Arrows

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

staciwarren2 Comments
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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!

 

 

 

A Girls Day Out

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I’m taking a break this week. I’m still tired from all the hunting I’ve been doing and still doing. Instead, I’m sharing this week. One of the great things about being an outdoors woman is finding friends who are also outdoors women.

My friend Erin and I have been fishing a few times. Earlier in the summer, we went out on Serpentine Stream where I fished as a kid. Read Erin’s story about our day of fishing in her blog, and a strong cup of coffee .

I’ll have more stories to come from our adventures of the past and future. I can’t wait for opening day 2017 on Grand Lake Stream with my friends, Robin(who also has a blog), Taylor and Erin!

Enjoy! I’ll be back next week.

 

Day 5: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure

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I Get My Moose!

Day five started out perfect. It was cold and frosty; what any hunter would consider the perfect morning to hunt. Even better was the I finally spotted Orion, the Hunter constellation in the sky. With the action we had on Thursday, we had high hopes and the pressure to get a moose before the bird hunters arrived on Saturday.

We headed back to where we saw moose number 5. This time there was no moose grunting on the hill, no cow wailing for companionship, but there was a moose grunting in a distance down towards the other road that we scouted the day before. As soon as it was legal shooting hours, we called. No answers, so we wasted no time and decided to go find the grunting moose.

img_20160930_085944864_hdrWe parked out a further distance and quietly walked in. After about 150 yards of walking, John gave a cow call. Immediately, we had a grunt answer followed by brush breaking and twigs snapping. We slipped off the road and got behind a bush of alders. Another alder bush further out was blocking my view, but also gave great cover for us. I got on John’s right side so I could watch. I could hear the moose, but couldn’t see it. John took a peek. He said, “I can see his antlers. He’s a good one.” So I took up the outer spot again and peeked. There it was, grunting and coming straight down the road! I drew a my gun and waited for him to come into my sights. My first thought was to shoot him in the front of the chest. I’ve shot deer like this and it kills them instantly. Bad part is that it’s a small target even for a moose. I was afraid that if I waited too long, he’d wind us or see us. I lucked out when he stopped and turned his head to the right looking for the cow moose that was calling him. I fired into his neck/shoulder. One shot from my son’s .270 rifle and the bull dropped to the ground! I didn’t shoot again because I thought he die immediately.

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Imprint in the ground where my moose fell after I shot it.

I turned to John, and said with great relief, “He’s down.” John grabbed me and gave me a big hug. In a split second, the bull jumped up and took about four large gallops into the woods. In slow motion I could see my moose running way! Damn!! I should have shot it again. There was no blood trail because the of the angle I shot it. We heard it crash and decided to wait a couple minutes. It was only another couple of minutes before we found my moose. It had been a dead moose running. It hadn’t gone far, but it was far enough. It was wedged between two trees. It would more work to get him out of the woods, but it didn’t matter. I had my moose. My family would have a full freezer of meat. I got to have my “real” hunt, and we were able to do it all on our own. The sense of pride I had at the moment is something I won’t soon forget.

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Then came the real work to get the moose out of the woods and onto the trailer. We used a winch and battery along with come-a-longs and ropes. We even used the come-a-longs to hold the moose’s legs apart for the field dressing. John insisted on field dressing and I didn’t argue. I was there the entire time helping, but he’s the man when it comes to gutting an animal.

Using snatch blocks and rope we got the moose onto the trailer fairly easy. I made out the transportation tag and we put it on the moose. We then covered it with a tarp to keep it clean from the dust on the road. After making it back to camp, we packed up and headed out to tag the moose and then headed home. My moose weighed in at 750 pounds with a 43.5 inch spread.

Ready to move out.
At the weighing station
My official happy hunter face.

Yes, moose hunting is hard, but it just proved once again, that with hard work, perseverance, and perhaps a little luck, you can accomplish anything. Hunting has shown me time and again, that nothing is impossible.

Ten Things I Learned When I Went Moose Hunting

  1. We saw more bear scat in one day than we saw all season of bear hunting.
  2. Moose hunting is a lot like turkey hunting. Think about.
  3. I’m glad I’m not a big time bird hunter because we barely saw any birds.
  4. The Milky Way is way more enjoyable to further north you go.
  5. Orion was right there the entire time.
  6. The North Maine Woods is a mecca for mushroom foraging.
  7. There are some really nice people and some not so nice people you’ll meet in your travels. Remember the nice ones.
  8. Buy more hunting clothes; you really never have enough, especially on an extended hunt.
  9. I can back up a trailer now…get ready Erin, we’ll be fishing from the boat next year!
  10. I enjoy seeing flowers, butterflies, tree frogs, and birds even when I’m hunting. Don’t forget to take time to stop and notice all the things around you when you hunt.

Day 4: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure

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Day 4: We finally hear a grunt!

Thursday morning began as the other days. We parked the truck and trailer and headed out to a new spot. We had found a road with so much sign that we were convinced we’d hear or see a moose. We parked way out off the side and quietly walked in. We stood at the end of the road where it “y’s”. Do we go left or right? Sign everywhere. But not a sound. As daylight broke, we decided we couldn’t keep wasting our time trying to find moose around sign if they weren’t going to answer. Perhaps the moose are coupled already with a cow? We didn’t know, but we knew we weren’t going to find a moose any time soon there. So off we went.

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Where moose number 5 disappeared.

By now we had been down many roads, and walked many miles with no result. We decided to try to find a new spot by heading down a road that had camps on it. Little did we know there were many side roads off the main road, and the area was teaming with signs of moose. We got out of our truck to take a listen. Sure enough! We heard moose grunts and a very vocal moaning cow moose on the hill above us and another grunt off to our right..ooh bull competition in play. Of course, we climbed the hill and tried to get close to the pair. Who’d think there would be a run-off muddy bog on the middle of a mountain? Yup, and we had to get through it. As we moved in the final yards, their calling stopped. We never saw them, so we hiked back down the hill. We didn’t care. We were revitalized. They were calling.  This was a game changer!

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Moose no. 5’s huge track

My theory of having a real moose hunt was once again challenged when moose number 5  showed up. We jumped back in the truck and headed down to the turnaround in the road we were on. At the big opening stood a giant moose. GIANT. A moose with big wide paddled antlers just stood there staring at us as we approached. John said, “There you go. He’s all yours.” I grabbed my gun and ONE bullet (since the gun I was using top loads and takes too much time) and went to get out of the truck. John decided we need to be closer and stepped on the gas. The bull turned on his hind legs and floored it too. I was yelling to stop the truck. John just drove faster. The faster we tried to catch up with him, the faster the moose ran. Then the moose made a sharp right turn and disappeared into the brush. We jumped out of the truck and dove through the six foot tall raspberry bushes right where we saw him disappear. No moose to be seen anywhere. He was gone. We came out of the raspberries smelling like moose urine. That was the only sign we had of him being there.

At this point, I was so mad at John for not stopping that I couldn’t say anything. We didn’t speak much for the better part of the day. I needed my time to pout and to think about things. In the end, we talked it out and from then on, we had a mutually agreeable plan should something like that happen again. He was to stop the f*&%$)*g truck.

That afternoon we tried a new road. A large clear cut on the right with steep hill on the left made up the landscape of the area. No matter which way we hiked, it would be strenuous. Several times John stopped and got out and tried to call making a cow call with his hands. No answers. No moose.

On the fourth stop, John called again. We heard a bull grunt! The moose was on the hill RIGHT behind us, so we jumped down over the bank into burdock bushes to hide. In fact, the moose was almost on a run trying to get to us. It’s incredible to hear such an instinctual reaction. The moose grunted continuously with urgency as it crashed down the hill. John kept calling. I had my gun ready. All the moose had to do is step out from the edge of the woods. I saw black, but I wanted it to be a good shot. I kept saying, come on, step out….and then like slow motion, came the sound of a vehicle. The only vehicle that we had seen or heard since we started on the road. Not only did the vehicle drive by, but it stopped right  at  our  truck, then after a second or two, drove away. Why? To find us? To look for moose? We don’t know, but the moose panicked and took off in the opposite direction. Another moose lost to hunter interference. Apparently those hunters don’t understand hunting etiquette. If you see another hunter, just move along. Moose No. 6 was gone.

Tomorrow: I get my moose!

 

 

 

Days 2-3: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure:

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Day 2: Cloudy with a smidgen of moose and gunshots

After the incident the night before, I decided the last thing I wanted was a drive-by shooting hunt. I wanted a real hunt, in the woods.We hunted all day but didn’t see a single moose. The morning hunt was set up in an area that had a good wallow, but still no moose were answering back.

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Bull moose fight sign-on both sides of the road and in the middle.

During our day scout, we eventually found a road that had evidence of a bull moose fight. For the evening, we set up in the clearing for a still hunt since we found sign and the moose weren’t responding. Maybe by chance the moose would return. The evening sit was pretty non-eventful. A late hatch of mosquitoes wanted us for supper so we ended up leaving early. The warm change in temps really didn’t make hunting easier.

On our way back to camp, two young bull moose ran across the the Island Pond Road in front of the truck. My first reaction was to have John stop the truck.
John asked, “You really want to shoot one of them?”
“Yes”, I said.
I still had 10 minutes to shoot. The moose cut into the woods, but there was a side road about 50 yards away. We drove to the road, and we got out to see if the moose had come out of the woods. No sign of them. We decided to walk down in case they were just out of sight. Half way down the road, a set of headlights in the opposite direction came up over a knoll. In an instant, two doors opened, hunters jumped out and started shooting. “You’re welcome’, I said as we turned around and headed back to our truck. Then a single loud echoing shot rang out..and then came the whizzing of a bullet right between us! Holy shit! We have hunter orange on! We yelled and ran to our truck. I was more mad than scared. I just don’t understand how that can happen. I sure hope they each had a permit since I’m pretty sure they must have hit both moose.

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The kind of roads we drove on most of the week. Thanks to logging, we at least had these!

That made three moose we had seen. Since there is no cell service at camp, we traveled another 30 minutes to the top of a hill with reception to call the kids and let them know how we were doing. Not getting one of those moose didn’t bother me since it wasn’t the way I truly wanted to get a moose. Impulse had gotten the best of me. I would think twice before doing that again.

We ate pumpkin pie and drank milk for supper then we went to bed. I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to sleep. Luckily, with all the activity, sleep came easy.

Day 3: Rain

We woke to pouring rain, and without much hesitation decided to sleep longer and wait until the rain let up. We woke to showers, drank coffee and headed out in rain gear to find a moose. We hiked the entire day. It was almost muggy, and everything was wet. I sweat under my rain gear, but was comfortable. We hiked hills, valleys and bogs ALL DAY. We found tons of sign, but no matter what we did, we could not get anything to answer to the calls. We tried all our spots and decided to cross off the ones that weren’t as good as others. No since wasting our time if the site wasn’t showing new activity.

We even went back to the road where the two moose were and could find no sign of a gut pile, so who knows what the shooters did. Did they take them? Did they leave them? Could they really have been that bad of a shot that none of the six-eight shots fired even hit one moose?

We ended up still sitting where I had seen the the big moose on Sunday. There was still fresh sign, but there was absolutely no grunting taking place. We had seen at least a dozen wallows and plenty of antler destroyed trees. Where were the moose?! We didn’t know if they were all paired up already and we had missed the rut, or if the rut just hadn’t begun.

Day 3 ended with a big moose crossing the road in front of us as we headed back to camp. It was already well after legal shooting hours so all we could do was watch it go off into the woods. That made 4 moose we had seen on the Island Pond Road. I began to be worried my hunt would only be successful by a chance sighting at best. Perhaps I’d have to settle for a drive-by hunt.

A good dose of Tylenol and Aleve, and bedtime couldn’t come soon enough. We had snacked all day on cheese and crackers and candy bars, so we drank water for supper, skipped the fire and went to bed.

 

Day 1: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure Begins

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Monday, Day 1: Hunter Interference

We woke Monday at 3:30 am. I was stoked and ready to go after the giant. After making camp coffee, and getting dressed, we headed out. I drove Zack’s truck with the trailer following behind John in his truck. We dropped off Zack’s truck nearer to where we were hunting so that when I got a moose, we wouldn’t have so far to travel to get the trailer. Not long after we got on the road, a young bull moose jumped out in front of John and ran for a considerable distance before finally going into the woods and letting us pass. This was a sign!

An hour later, we parked the truck and headed into the woods before daylight. At shooting time, John began his grunt calls and raking. We could hear a bull raking close by!

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One of the many logging trucks we encountered on Day 1 and Day 2.

Then a logging truck pulled up to the intersection where we parked, and sat there idling which seemed like forever. We couldn’t hear anything. After about ten minutes, the truck finally pulled away.

Silence again. John called and raked again. The moose continued to rake, and was coming our way!

Then came the sound of a loud muffler, followed by a slamming of a truck door and the voices of three people using an electronic cow call. They walked up and down the road just 50 yards from where we sat in the woods trying to “call in a moose”, which ended up scaring our moose away. News flash. You have to actually go into the woods to hunt, or at least at the very least, not argue when you’re trying to call a moose. I tried to be positive and wanted to think they weren’t deliberately trying to ruin our hunt, but it did cross my mind since our truck was parked at the intersection. 

Electronic moose call -photo courtesy of http://www.llbean.com
Popular electronic moose call sold at local store -photo courtesy of http://www.phantomcalls.com

We left and found a remote spot and enjoyed a full breakfast of bacon, scrammbled eggs, hash browns and apple cider in the woods. We spent the remainder of the day hiking and scouting, and then setting up for Tuesday’s morning hunt.

When we got back to camp, I decided I had enough of John having to take over so with some guidance from John, I backed the trailer into its spot. We had a nice dinner by campfire, and I got to gaze at the Milky Way for a bit before the clouds rolled in and we headed to bed. There were so many stars that it was almost impossible to make out constellations that I always find in the sky. Finally I found Cassiopeia in the sky and I was content.

Tomorrow: Days 2-3

My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure: The Pre-Hunt

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moose-permitI was more than a bit shocked when I found out I was drawn for a 2016 moose permit. Even more shocking was that I was drawn for zone 5, one of the most successful moose zones, which also happened to be the same zone in which my son Zack shot his moose in 2012.

Let me be clear and honest. Moose hunting is not glamorous nor romantic. It’s hard work, especially when there’s only two of you. It’s physically and mentally draining. For a hunter and the sub-permittee to scout, hunt, harvest and transport their own moose, it’s work. This is my story about how we hunted. John and I didn’t hire a Maine Guide to do the work for us. Not that we have anything against hiring guides. In fact, we want to be Maine Guides, so we wanted the whole experience of doing it ourselves. If you don’t or can’t do all that I’m writing about, then by all means hire a Maine Guide.

Weeks before we left, we prepped for the hunt. Prepping for a hunt takes time and money. We didn’t want to forget anything, and with the idea that there would only be the two of us to get a moose out of the woods, we had to be able to do it smart. Winches, come-a-longs, pulleys, snatch blocks, tow straps and more ropes filled our truck. Then we had propane, gas, food, water, firewood and clothes.Physically, I was as prepared as I was going to be. Lugging bait and hiking in to our bear sites all season helped get me physically prepared for long walking on my bad knees.

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Six Mile Checkpoint. Photo courtesy of NMW website

We headed up to the North Maine Woods on late Friday afternoon. We went up early so we could scout a couple of days prior to the hunt. Given our bear season schedule, and that it’s a four-hour drive to zone 5, we didn’t get a chance to do any scouting before then.

We arrived at the Mile 6 Checkpoint outside of Ashland at 8:59 pm. We registered by phone and left a check for $204.00 for John and I to camp and hunt for 7 days. We drove down the Jack Mountain Road and found the first nice campsite. The gravel roads were still wet from the day’s rain, and pulling the camper across those roads covered the underside and front of the camper in a cement-like coating. We got set up, had a campfire under the most amazing star-filled skies and went to bed.

On Saturday, we scouted, trying to search out where Zack had shot his moose. I had forgotten the GPS in my car so we had to rely on our faded memories, the Gazetteer, and lots of searching. We finally found the area on day two of the trip. Late Sunday afternoon, we spotted where there had been a moose fight in the road only the night before. We pulled over. We found a brand new wallow that moose make to urinate in and then roll in. Yeah, it sounds gross and stinks worse. But when you’re moose hunting, it’s a find, and apparently it’s an irresistible calling card for a cow moose.

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The moose’s antlers looked like these. Photo from Pinterest

We made our way through the armpit-high raspberries and went into the woods about 50 yards. John gave a rake of the shoulder bone on the trees to simulate a moose scraping its antlers, and gave a moose grunt. No return grunt. Nothing. We waited a couple minutes. Then John tapped me on the shoulder and silently pointed. There in front of us about 50-60 yards away stood the biggest moose I’d ever seen! Well, actually all I could see were its three-foot high and foot-wide paddles of its antlers. Not even the points showed because of the foliage…but he was huge and after I put my eyes back in my head, we turned and scurried away so not to bump him out. I hardly slept Sunday night thinking about that moose. In my mind, we’d be on our way home by Monday afternoon. I’d have a moose, and I’d get a big refund from North Maine Woods. I think how boastful that sounded at the time, but in reality, I was just sure we’d get a moose, this moose, early Monday.