Deal Sealed Unexpectedly

I have spent the majority of October traveling two and from western Pennsylvania to seal the deal on some antlers. With early success under my belt from Maryland with a Sika deer, I was riding on a high. The grueling month of little bucks and 2400 miles was wearing on the mind though. Its a feeling like during a marathon, the hitting of the wall. Trying to tuck that low point deep down, you have to forge on, as you never know when the 180 degree will come.

With each trip to the farm, information is gathered, passed on and documented. With a hunting journal in my possession now, I find my self taking more detailed notes on weather conditions and summaries of what was seen during the sits. The first two weeks of October was turning into a sweatathon. The summer was very slowly releasing its grips but continues to keep the big deer on lock down. When the temperatures start under 50 degrees then get ready. Deer don't have the ability to sweat just like a dog. This period of time is good to sit near a water source if you find yourself battling an early season heat. The majority of sightings were little bucks, spikes, and crab claws. Kind of like watching high school kids mingling around the woods.

Our makeshift property manager spoke a few words to live by though, on my second trip out. "Don't worry about where you saw the bucks, but were you saw the does". With the rut quickly approaching, he makes a fine point. Taking those notes in early season, of the same two doe passing by the stand will mean something later. Most of the younger cousins at the table thought nothing of his statement, but it was like a slice of friend gold to me. The stand location I sit on the field have 6-8 doe come in the woods every morning like clock work. One of these days in late October into November will have a buck following their trail. Although, I wouldn't have to wait for that.

On the 4th trip to Western, PA, the deal was sealed. With only minutes to exit the truck, change into hunting because I was racing against the sunset. This would be a start to a week long excursion set to hunt until antlers fell to the ground. This was a personal challenge to complete. Weeks of information gathering and honing in on bucks stomping grounds would have to pay off. So let's do a quick review of the most recent information and notes I had:

• The portion of the farm across the street had a concise area of scrapes, a rub line, and multiple sightings of a decent 7 point buck.
• The eastern side of the main farm has multiple sightings of two eight point bucks and approximate travel corridors.
• My historical stand location on the western end of the farm above the coal mine ponds had some minor rubs but has always stirred up some large bucks following does from the field.

Well the 7 point buck across the street fell to Uncle Tom prior to me arriving at the farm. We even had an opportunity to tag him while we were watching divorce court at the cabin. The one short tined 8 point got shot through the heart as well from my Cousin Lisa. So with the most recent information, I had nothing to go on, as most of the bucks that were on the hit list had already fallen.

The trash can buck, a huge non-typical still roamed the area, and another 8 pointer. Without seeing or having their home areas pinned down, the work was going to be tough. So while rushing to a stand to oversee the food plot, a familiar face was seen. The huge bodied buck with just main beams was standing a top the hill. My plan was to see as much of the farm as possible from one vantage point. Uncle Tom's stand does just that. Parking the truck at the end of the road, I quickly walked back toward the stand. The main beam buck was standing just inside the woods.

The last time seeing this deer was from afar, and before that was only feet away in near pitch dark conditions. His body size though is easily recognizable though. It's as if a horse is walking through the woods when you see it. The buck is old and battered, with one eye gorged out, a massive neck, and all his points broke off. He was making his mark on the farm and is probably warding off shooter bucks.

The stand oversees a huge field sprinkled with medium sized Christmas trees. A small food plot to the east and up the middle of the field has produced more activity for deer than usual. My grunt tube came in handy as sounds behind the stand relating to those of deer. Intermittently hitting the grunt call may get something to step out. A little doe finally did appear and walked right down the road between me and the field. Not what you wanted to appear when you have antlers dancing in your head.

A few deer were working the far edge of the field but nothing committing to the food plot. Glassing the field was going to be my tactic to identify a travel corridor of a buck coming out of the wood work. With one more platform stand in my truck, it was ready to be hung if needed. The sun finally set below the tree line, so the god awful glare disappeared in the binocs. Bingo, a buck working up the middle of the field toward the stand. Was it possible the intermittent grunts got him curious. As the buck got closer, a low grunt noise could be heard from the far end of the field.

Now, I had competition. Would a fake grunt versus a real deer grunt win? When the buck was directly in front of me, probably 70 yards away, I hit the grunt call like a champ. The buck was frozen in time, not knowing which direction to go, he just stood there. You could picture grass growing in time lapse photos, because it felt like it took that long for him to move. I gave one more set of my best shot at being a deer on the grunt tube. Still minutes past by, the sun soon to be below the horizon, and all I can do is wait.

The buck turned north, and these words uttered out of my mouth, "this is really going to happen". I had never experienced anything like this in my hunting career. As my Uncle Mike says, "you never know when it's going to happen". The buck took a fast walk in my direction and with that I stood up for the shot. Then a short game of peek-a-boo started with him behind the Christmas trees at the edge of the field. My best guess on distance was 40 yards and set the dial on my bow sight.

The buck was thrashing at the brush and showing pure anger as he couldn't see his challenger. All that needed to happen was 'one more step' from behind the tree. My heart was pounding through my chest, lucky for me though, I took my blood pressure medicine. I re-adjusted my feet to improve my form, and pulled my bow back as I saw him move his shoulders forward with a step. Focusing on the shot, and forgetting about the antlers the shot process settled in. The last bit of trembling stopped long enough to release my arrow. The all to familiar sound of drum pounding beat rang out. The arrow hit the chest cavity for sure.

The buck sprang away from me to the middle of the field, and then a little bit right as if he was drunk. The excitement hit me again, the shot had to be better than good. The first tumble was imprinted on my mind. This would also be a first for me to watch the deer fall after the shot. A short hop up into the snow plow position between two pines trees would be his final resting place. Success in 20 minutes in the stand, and 2400 miles under my belt already this season. My plan to pull out every trick this week to make it happen was not necessary anymore. Some night time work to retrieve my buck was in my future.

Sika Early On

As much as I like this trip, I really like this trip. The cool breeze off the marsh creek cutting through your hunting clothing and moonlight showing pathway of murky water. Each year the snaking creek has to be navigated for crab pots and sandbars around the bends. The is loaded to the brim with arrows, stands, and support gear for the day. I couldn't fit this much stuff in my cubicle but it's just not the same. That little fan behind my computer screen will never compare to the breeze in my face off the creek. The blinding lights above my counter top produce a heat lamp feeling but where's the lizard at?

Well, if I ever find a lizard in my cube, he can have the high energy tan while I tap away on my keyboard. For now though, the whistle of my Yamaha cuts through that marsh in search of Sika deer. Although these furry creatures are illegal aliens, they produce quite a tasty meal with their tender and flavorful meat. Before we know it, the boat is perched up on the forest edge and crunchy leaves lead the way to our hunting spots. The season is early but the deer activity was on high. My guess is that we are the first hunters to sit the woods this season as the calendar still says September.

First stop is to drop off my partner in crime for a blind location. This is simple, putting him up against some cover and lined up between me the boat. Another 300 yards in, I pick out the same tree as last year where a spiked stag. My behind must have been on fire, because this spot has been producing a deer for past two years and today made three. As anticipated, two sika deer came strolling in from the marsh to the wood-marsh fringe ~40 yards away. With my range finder on the fritz, it meant shooting from the hip and judging my own distance. With pin set to 40 yards, the arrow drawn back, and my eyes set on the body of the deer...smack. A hollow hard hit sound that is like none other.

This would be the first time, I captured my hunt on video. A moment in time that will be able to be replayed for years to come. A defining moment in my hunting career that will be treasured with those family videos. Although the deer wasn't a trophy or even a buck, it would be that turning point to look back on and smile in the success.

Early Season, Slim Pickins II

After the first day in the woods, my dogs were barking. My colleague Josh had graciously provided me to a place to sleep. With the Patuxent River State Park being located near his house, it was a quick trip to a cool bed and warm meal. It made me a bit jealous though, that he had a such as short trip to great huntable land. It wasn' t long before clock struck o'dark thirty and we walking into the woods. Our destination today was pond to the east to sit and wait for deer to come in for an afternoon drink. The temperature today was going to reach above 80 which will certainly make an uncomfortable sit.
As we walked through the intermittent spiderwebs along the trail, my backpack and tree stand reminded me that I had lugged way too much into the woods.
The extra weight became my enemy again, only allowing me to get halfway to the pond. Disappointed with my lack of physical fitness, I choose a trail that branched off the main trail. The woods opened up and some great vantage points to the trail made it an easy sell. This portion of the woods though still lacked the deer sign that I wanted to see. The sit went fast, and before we knew it, we were walking back out of the woods. Without see any deer and still lacking solid proof of deer we would spend the day scouting around the area. As we drove around, it provided the chance to interact with other hunters and check other parking areas to access this long sliver shaped state park. Everyone seemed to be tight lipped, but a local farmer provided some valuable information. He let us know, that he found bedding areas out in the middle of the bean fields.
This helped to conclude on our feelings about the area coupled with early season activity. The deer have yet to endure any hunting pressure, the farm fields are untouched by John Deere green machinery, and the temperatures being so, the deer are still on vacation. We agreed to sit for the evening in other areas as confirmation, but still with a bit of hope to see something worth while in this heat. Since the previous evening had provided some deer activity, I choose to sit there again. On the route in though, the briar war was won with the edge of my Gerber Machete. Now if a small plank was available to cross the ravine, my day would be getting even better.
The walk created a waterfall of sweat on my brow from the heat and humidity. After an hour in the stand, my clothing finally dried out. The view would be dismal and uneventful. This truly solidified my early season expectations. Over the next few weeks, the deer will come out of vacation mode and begin their patterns. If one had to choose, a cool boat ride on the way to hot sit in the woods, would certainly be more enjoyable. A sika deer trip will be in my near future.

Early Season, Slim Pickins'

A late would have to ensue in order to have a work free Friday for the first day of Maryland Deer season. Now if I could just ignore those emails on my phone and stay focused on the hunt. Easier said than of course, but simply turning that little sucker off can solve the problem quickly. This trip will take me south of Philadelphia, over the Mason-Dixon line, past Lord Baltimore and turning to the west. The landscape changes abruptly from the concrete jungles into quaint farm lands and sprawling patches of forests.
The destination is Patuxent River State Park, which provides ~3000 acres of huntable land. As most of the land is heavily wooded, its surrounded by agricultural fields of beans and corn by local farmers. As food isn't an issue, will it keep them out in the open with little to no pressure thus far? As this is the first time hunting this early and a new area, the immense workload was piling up fast. Arriving at the local WalMart to obtain my tags and few necessities for the trip the hunt was about to begin.
The first course of action was to scout the area. My co-worker would be joining me the next day and was already familiar with the area. My task was to pin point some deer activity and get in close. The plan for tomorrow was to sit on a pond about mile into the woods. As the heat is still lingering from summer, we figured water would be a deer's best friend right now. Although I would learn that the Patuxent River was decent in size, and the maps gave it little credit. The hunting area runs in a west to east orientation. Approximately 10 miles long and in some spots only a few hundred feet wide.
With the truck in park, my gear quickly assembled and my boots were on the trail. Heavy vegetation was expected as we are merely a couple days into September. So choosing an area with a small opening or a heavily traveled corridor was on watch list.
The first leg of scouting didn't turn up very much. One or two good areas to sit with some decent vantage points were identified. To my dismay though, deer sign was scarce. This just wouldn't be a high probability spot....yet. As I mentioned before, its early season, deer have hardly been pressured and are out in the open enjoying the farmland buffet. Returning to my truck to hydrate and regroup because another area would have to be scouted in a timely manner. This time my tree stand and bow would be coming with me
The gear on my back instance stirred up memories from Sika deer season. I was already carrying too much from what was actually needed. This would hinder my distance traveled significantly. Taking an open area that was off limits to hunting, it would give me easier access to getting further in the woods. As it was all state park land, it wasn't trespassing. Quickly my path is met with heavy vegetation and a steep ravine to cross that split the two open areas. Wearing not much more than my gilly suit and under armor, the briars would win this battle. The second open area led me further west before it dropped me into the woods. Following a foot path down, the elevation dropped into a thick overgrown forest.
Crossing over a small creek would allow me to view fresh deer tracks in the mud. This was all I needed to stop and hang my stand. As sweat was pouring out of me and hints that I am surely not in shape yet, the hunt was on. The briar battle would begin again at the base of the tree that overlooked the trail, the creek crossing and small opening for deer to step out. Shortly after a few more pricks, I was overlooking the forest floor from above. The first thing was too cool off, hydrate, and stop sweating. Luckily a light breeze out of the NE would assist me. My attention focused on the creek crossing and small open area.
After an hour or so, the signature crunching of leaves came to my left. Slowly would I have to turn in order to catch a glimpse. Deer! It felt great to see deer on first day of the season. The winter, spring, and summer are merely a waiting game until deer season starts again. The two deer that had appeared we slowly grazing on leaves that overhung on the foot path. As they believed to be the only ones around, they would rip and tear leaves from small bushes and trees vigorously. The first one in view was a small doe, with a burnt red coat that shimmered with twitches to ward off the flies. The other was her brother, his coat almost a dull gray with two small buttons emerging from his head. Collectively they might weigh over 100 pounds soaking wet, but the fact of the matter is that it wouldn't be worth harvesting a bag of bones.
Simply relaxing back in my stand, the show of the duo would give me a cheerful smile. There isn't a TV show in the world that can provide this level of enjoyment. This was real high definition, surround sound and 3D all in one. As the sister approached directly under my stand, the sweat droplets from earlier caught here attention. With a quick stare at her brother, they would just veer off the trail and continue to graze. It wasn't a few feet off the trail that the two disappeared into the vegetation.
Sitting a while longer, movement in the form of crunching leaves would turn my attention back to the open area. To my dismay, it was the flash of white tails popping in and out of the brush moving away quickly. The deer had moved in so quietly had been under my nose without knowing. That is a testament as to how thick it was in the forest. To their advantage, they would arrive directly down wind of me and their noses told them danger ahead. The walk back was much cooler, as temperatures were falling fast. It would be a tease as tomorrow was set to hit above 80. The ravine crossing was slightly more dangerous as the slope coupled with entangling briars pushed to take a leap of faith to the other side. All in all, it was good day though.

To be continued...

2 Orders of Hunting, Hold the Heat

The smell of the maple trees and sight of acorns is almost tangible. 4 three days stand between me and the woods. Maryland, like some other grateful states, opens a bit earlier than the Keystone State. Pennsylvania hunters will have to wait one more month before arrows can fly. South Carolina allows you a chance at a velvet buck as their season opens in August. That will be one for the bucket list, as any of states around me would never consider that as a possibility.
As I spend these last few days waiting for the green light, its provides the chance to double check gear, shoot those final perfect practice shots, and taking one a gaze at the hunting areas from my desktop. Of course, taking those hunting maps and transferring them into field plans, laminated, highlighted, and noted with specific information from my scouting.
My hunting pack is set with scouting gear still, as the first day, I am going to give the area one more glance. As the heat is still turned up, the focus for the hunt is water. The area of woods has two small ponds separated by about a mile with small creek beds snaking through. With hopes to find some serious deer signs around these ponds, it will be my best chance in the early season. The woods have agricultural fields to the south, so hopefully it will put in the deer's pathway of daily habits. Eat, drink, sleep.
The original forecast had a the heat breaking in the mid week, but now it seems that it will linger on a bit longer. This will be a first time hunt to this area anyway, but at least having some odds in my favor would help. Not only will heat hinder deer movement but it will surely beat me down sitting on stand all day. The outfit I have chosen will literally be the least amount of clothing to be worn. Keeping cool, means less sweating, and in turn less scent. During the sit on the water hole, wind management will be high on the list as not blow my chances.
All of my clothing that will be used is going through the scent control cycle: washing with baking soda, dried with no dryer sheets, and than directly back into zip lock bags. All my clothing bins are separated by seasonal requirements (lightweight to heavy). There are the hunters though that hope their tag will get filled early on and those heavy warm clothes get to stay packed away. Not me though, you have to drag me out of the woods at the end of the season. The colder weather brings out warming technique rituals: layered clothing, hand warmers, tea in the thermos, and day dreaming of the first hot meal upon arrival back at camp.
With state of the arm technologies available to hunters these days, its on hunters as to how far they want to take scent control. From skin tight carbon impregnated garments to expensive Ozone generating equipment. My philosophy is if you just follow a solid regime of scent management, it will allow that buck to come in close enough and hang out just long enough for that shot. With the heat being a factor on this hunt, having a few extra tricks up my sleeve may be the winning combination. A mid day shower to rid the sweat and grime and fresh pair of clothes to back it up is one way.
During my time in Maryland, there are a few farms to the south of the hunting area. If permission could be gained with the resident, it could allow a better stalk into the area I hope to hunt. Any time you interact with landowners, be polite and don't beat around the bushes. That means be completely honest, but the more upfront information that's provided can subside doubts that they may have. And as always, offer to lend a hand if means getting access to a hot spot. Private land access is a huge hurdle these days and there isn't anymore land being made.
Until next time, hunt hard and make the hunt happen.

Bow Madness

Finally, I have taken up traditional hunting with a compound bow. It took me a while to find a good deal on one, to the point where it cost less than my crossbow. The process was grueling and homework had to be done on each bow and manufacturer. It came down to PSE or Matthews. Considering it was my first compound bow, spilling out my wallet at the store was not very favorable. Matthews makes incredible bows, but you pay for that level of technology and performance. PSE on the other makes great bows too, but they consider the everyday hunter when it comes to your wallet.

Not everyone is a professional hunter, and we have to shell out the cash for our equipment. With that being said, if you set a budget and hunting plan each year, you can account for a bow upgrade or additional hunting trips. If I went with the Matthew's Chill, then at least two of my western PA trips would have to be cut. By going with the PSE Bow Madness, (and the incredible deal I got from Gander Mountain) one of my western PA trips can be extended for a week.

So two years ago, my hunting passion was revitalized. The usual three days of rifle season after Thanksgiving would be part of my season not just my season. Previously, my job had kept me traveling all over the US, making hunting locally nearly impossible. The holiday was about the only thing to keep that tradition after Thanksgiving of going hunting with the family at the farm. Even then, my job beckoned and kept me away from that sometimes. Spending a turkey dinner under a canopy leaden with 30 strangers responding to a train derailment. Never once thought it would happen in my lifetime but it sure made it memorable.

With a corporate change in my career, it set my resting place in one spot finally. Even bought a nice home on top of the hills. Alright, so I still live in suburbian hell for right now. By finally having some roots to call home, and not a hotel room with four walls, two towels, and TV. Actually we have a bunch of towels in the house but always get used before I need one. With my roots set locally, the hunting passion could now flourish again. During my years as a road warrior, it lended a chance to make friends and develop relations with land owners.

I found it to be a great time to follow up on those offers, "you can hunt my land anytime" offers. It wasn't long that my boots were stomping through the woods to check properties. A local hunting spot even bubbled up from a co-worker. At one point, the old PSE, nearly first compound bow that dad had gotten me shoot a couple of arrows at deer. This was evidence though that the deer clearly had the advantage to escape. Being my work schedule was still quite busy, a crossbow was enlisted to help my success rate. It did just that, 10 for 10 in two years. That is 10 deer hit, 10 deer harvested. Those one or two misses can be blamed to buck fever or even human error.

This year though, I planned my schedule accordingly and accounted for time to practice on a compound bow. With a closely monitored budget, I waited and waited, and waited even more. Then one day, the deal of a lifetime came along. If you may remember in an earlier blog, my spending goes as such: On Sale, Clearance, and Free. It works out if you are patient enough. This started by monitoring the online prices of major outdoors stores (Cabelas, BassPro, and Gander Mountain), and the occasional visit to each location near by. We had found ourselves in Virginia for a Christening, and decided to take a short drive to Maryland to check out Gander Mountain.

As new bows for 2013 where being displayed across the back wall, the three, little lonely leftovers from 2012 sat on the end. Hung up like old news, they could only hope that someone would buy them. Honestly, with the price tag on PSE bow sitting there, how didn't anyone else buy it. The bow was marked down below half of the original price. It was steal instead of a deal. And this guy took it home. I am proud owner of a PSE Bow Madness and can enjoy it even more with the money I saved by switching to Geico (just kidding, I am a Nationwide fan).

As you can see below, it even rode on a pillow all the way home.

Hunting...What Drives You?

On the brink of a new dawn, we rethink our preparations, the outcomes, the what ifs, and the big bucks that dance around in our heads. With just over three weeks before arrows can soar and fur can fly, now is the time to hold the line. Practice makes perfect, perfect in a deer hunting world doesn't happen very often though. Deer hunters have to be adaptive, mentally focused, persistent, and forever aware of their surroundings. What starts as a physical game will eventually turn into a mind battle with a mature whitetail.

So why to hunters engage into a challenge like this...? It's not like we really take deer as an enemy and find ourselves running up the steps of the art museum Rocky style. Or finding a local butchery to beat up on  hanging sides of beef. The outdoors offer so much more than perfecting laid concrete steps. When you step into the woods, every step we take is different and the path to the top is forever changing. Watching the forest wake up in the morning and then slowly doze off to sleep in the evening. My local hunting spot does it like a train schedule.

The woods are deathly quiet, pitch dark. With the low hanging canopy of the juniper trees, star light is completely masked out. Only with a full moon overhead is my pathway pre-lit reminding you of movie theatre aisles. Each step taken slowly with the up most care as to not make a noise. Your minds spins in hopes of not cracking a freshly dropped branch. In such a case though, we take advantage of the action. Having your grunt tube at ready and quickly disguising yourself as a deer. A few soft, short grunts and then scratching your feet as if you were making a scrape. After a minute or so the trip continues into the darkness.

The arrival to 'spot' may warrant climbing a tree, slithering into a ground blind, or just sitting down on the forest floor. We lay back and wait for the show to begin. Mine starts with eastern slope becoming back lit with a glow from the rising sun. The first early movements of deer trickling back to their beds for the morning slowly begins. With light still on low, they tip toe through the almost silent vegetation and soft soils. Many of times, they have crept past me, only to find out later on my trail camera as proof.

Next come the squirrels. Down the trees, reporting to their work locations to find food and burying it. Then dig up previously found food and move to bury it once again. Then the crows crack the cool morning air with calls back and forth to one another. At this point, the feature presentation is about to arrive. The pones travel down hill after grazing on Mr McCann's grass and ornamental flowers all night. Then into the juniper forest, halfway to their bedding area with gazing eyes. Just a bit further to their cozy meadow deep in the ravine. With sleep on their mind, they have their nose on high alert.

The antlered kings may have half opened eyes, and ears that have listened to every sound in the night air but their nose never lies. That full belly can almost be laid to rest as they step across my view plane. As mentioned before, the pones or younger deer lead the way with mature doe closely behind. Then, providing the coast is clear, the mature antlered giants arrive. Sleep deprived both the hunter and the deer, the final chess match begins. Will the antlered giant cross my pathway, will he catch a smell of my morning bacon sandwich on my breath, or will he mosey around as if we were never there?

Well this is a perfect morning so far, having the antlers just show up within view is a start. Or to even have fur walk in our direction builds up our blood pressure to near boiling. The excitement fills the air, if only it covered our scent at the same time. Hopefully we have done our homework on this king of the chess game, scouting from afar, scent control in place, wind played in your favor, and your weapon shooting straight and true.

What seems like minutes and hours, ticks passed in only seconds. The crack of the air when the gun shoots or the arrow leaves your bow. Did my shot hit home?...or will the game of shadows continue. The wonder that quickly fills our minds and can flood out a perfect shoot into doubt. Will a painted red carpet be laid out for a prize at the end, we can only hope. Hunting drives us so hard to just lay our hands on our harvest. To some this is our proof of success, but we know it doesn't take antlers on a wall to do so.

Equipment - Check, Check 1,2

Can everyone here me in the back....yes. Okay. Well we aren't running full out video equipment this season but equipment checks are vital to your operation. Your hunting gear has to be up to par and then some. If it isn't then your wall could remain spacious and your freezer empty. Your wife might be happy about the wall but lack of fresh venison for your grill hurt your feelings more. Whether you are hunting with a bow or gun, you have to take care of them.

Guns are probably the lesser of two evils. Most folks wait until those famous turkey shoots in late November to put couple of punches on paper and call it good for the season. I did this one year, boy was I sorry. It was the last day of rifle season in western Pennsylvania. A colleague from work had allowed me to hunt his 80 acre plot just north of Pittsburgh. To my first dismay, my tree stand had been stolen which was very disheartening in follow hunters of the area. That's just wrong, I there just a few days prior with an awesome setup by the way. There was a small drainage creek from the corn fields just inside the wood line. Judging by the signs around and my previous experiences in the stand, it was a super highway for deer.

So going to my second best option since my seat in the tree was gone, I pulled out my trusty five gallon bucket and sat near a tree. An hour after sun up, here comes Joe Smoe, tramping through the woods...really dude. We traded stories from earlier in the season and planned to drive the woods toward me. Well that was certainly nice of him, as he disappeared into the snowy morning. Snowing...oh yes, it got even worse as the day went on. After a few hours, I decided to get up and stretch my legs. Using a deer trail, I followed down into the ravine. It wasn't long before I came across a nice 6 point buck. At least that's how many points were countable in the blizzard at this point.

The woods were thick, the snow was falling and the buck presented one shot just behind his neck. At less than 25 yards, the 3006 let out a roar. The deer ran away....the hunter stood there in more dismay. What happened, at that distance, the deer would have to be Houdini to dodge that bullet. Well, it was later evident that my scope mount rings had come loose. Think about how you treat your gun... Take out from a nice cozy lodge or car ride to your destination, than expose it to the elements. In my case a 40 degree difference. Repeat this for a week or so while at hunting camp.

It only took millimeters to miss that buck on my scope mount. A simple check of those little bolts during my sighting in would have done the trick. I took it step further to prevent this from happening again, some blue thread lock. Let's look at it another way though, what if you were traveling to Colorado. Did you pack a small tool kit to make such adjustments....you should. Also a laser bore sighter can save you time. After you sight in for the season, put your bore sighter in, and not where in your scope the dot appears. If it changes from your travels, then you need to correct it. And if it still in the same spot...go hunting.

Your weapon of choice is just one piece of the pie though, Your binoculars, range finder, knives (and sharper), and the list goes on. In fact, make a list to check through each piece of equipment, and take spare parts and tools to fix things on the fly. If I had known my scope was loose in the field, a piece of duck tape could have even solved the problem. Better to have than to have not. The more options you have then the more opportunities to succeed.

No Longer Boy Scouting

50 some odd days away from the first hunting season and I can't contain my excitement. Fishing season is merely a way to pass time for my true passion. At one time though, fishing was everything to me. You couldn't pull me off the shoreline or the dock on the Chesapeake Bay. I even warranted the nickname "Caveman Kurt", being I could catch fish with anything I laid my hands on. That nickname just popped up after 20 or so years yesterday. A colleague new to the hunting season was discussing potential outing's to enjoy the outdoors and a way to do a team building exercises. It wasn't long before he realized I can make anything happen outdoors. The Caveman is back!!

I have several hunting trips lined up starting in September and lingering until the chilly month of January. From several spots in Pennsylvania (east and west), Maryland, Colorado, and potentially Arkansas or Kentucky (waiting to see which pans out). Tennessee was a potential candidate for a few weeks but it seems a future employer didn't find me as a real catch...their loss. Although Nashville would have been sweet. Anyway, with 50 days until the first arrow being drawn (legally), there is lots of work to be done. Finding a compound bow, scouting and more scouting, lining up babysitters, and potentially buying a long range rifle. Did I mention scouting...because that's the big one and most important.

Scouting, for hunting that is, not the organization of young boys, is the most important aspect of your hunting skills. It can tell you the story of an animals movement, habits, and sexual partners...okay maybe not the last one. The rut though does some crazy things to deer so you never know. Hunting an area because it looks promising is like wagering on a lottery ticket. You have the opportunity to beat the house odds here, but it means doing your homework. First thing, that little thing called the Internet, not the one Al Gore said he invented, pull up google earth and print off some topo photos of your area. Step two, laminate them, yes take the extra time to ensure they survive the season.

Next, hit the hunting grounds, but don't just run in guns blazing. Deer can remember you and your scent for quite a long time. You have to hone in your ninja like skills, perform your scent controls, and bring a few necessary items. Here is a good starting list:

• Your topo maps, a writing device and note pad (write in the books would be a great choice)
• Scent control, rubber boats, clothes treated with carbon or other chemicals, camo of course
• A range finder, brush/tree saw, trail markers, and gloves (you have real work to do)
• Of course your daily bread and drinks to stay energized and hydrated
• A fanny pack or small backpack to carry your gear as well

So you have suited up, and slung the backpack on, so let's get moving. Wait...do you even now where to start? Hopefully you didn't drive your big truck right up to the woods edge or through the hunting area. Remember I said ninja like skills. All scouting needs to be the least invasive as possible. Meaning, if you are going to root through your brother's crap in his room, you make sure you don't leave any traces of your sneaking around behind. The deer won't beat you up but it may mean never seeing that monster buck if you give up your presence.

Parking your vehicle at the lodge or far away from your hunting area. Then start walking. Take notes along the way, if you were truly hunting, how would I access an area so the deer don't hear or see me. Don't rush either, you are recording all animal signs along the way, tracks, feeding locations, trails, areas of cover (for you or the deer). Did I mention, you should do this during mid day hours. Yes, you certainly don't want to come eye to eye with a buck that is on his way to his bed or buffet line. You may get a kick out of seeing that big buck, but take a mental picture, because he will disappear like David Copperfield. Mature bucks are smarter than most humans, so if you edge up on a deer, kneel down (aka hide) or back out.

You brought a range finder and maybe even some bi-nocs. Use them and glass from afar. During morning and evening hours, bust out your spotting scope and watch the feeding areas. You want to understand the big picture, not just your little niche where your stand hangs. Back to your scouting at hand, take notice to those deer signs, like I said, really take notice. Identify the feeding areas and where they bed down. They are going to travel from A to B and back to A. So tracks and pathways should be your first focus. They check for buck signs...yup, scrapes, rubs, licking branches, and larger tracks in the dirt and mud. If you can't tell the difference in tracks then spend some time on google.

As you dwindle down areas to hunt, you have to think about how you actually get a shot or hang your stand, You don't always have to hang a stand in make a shot on an animal. If you have other means of cover than use it. Calculate your wind direction too. Put in your notes, this stand can only be hunted on a Southerly wind. The wind will also dictate how you access your hunting location, if they smell before you even get to your stand than you may have an uneventful sit. Once you think you have an absolute honey hole you have to prepare your hunting location. Do you need to clear pathways to ensure a quiet arrival to your spot, cut down any branches that could hinder your options or cause you a missed shot. Be anal during this time, I missed a huge eight point, because I never cleared a sapling in front me. My arrow was almost in arms reach from me when it stuck into the tree, and I swear it was mocking me until I cut the tree down to remove it.

I can't stress it enough, make sure your shooting lanes are open. It may require you to get up and down from your stand several times until you get it right. One branch can mean a wall hanger, or an empty freezer. So you found a hunting spot, great. Now keep scouting the area, find more options, because your about to play chess with brilliant animals. Only having one play in your book isn't going to cut it here. Work your way all around the area, you have to be able to know where these deer eat, sleep, poop, and their afternoon hobbies. Hang up some trail cameras along those trails or areas of congregation. We are all busy these days, let the camera do some work for you when you aren't there. With some many tools at your disposal these days, it would be stupid not to use them. The deer signs you found may only be from a small buck and not the big guy.

Hopefully I helped you out by giving some tips and best practices. Scout hard, so you aren't guessing or scratching lottery tickets from your stand location. You want to have informed decisions when hunting and be able to say it just wasn't luck. Chili dogs at 5am are never a good idea either, just saying.

Cold Water Crankin II

The water had warmed significantly since the last cold water crankin effort. We elected to tryout the smaller lake at Penn Warner this time. Word around the campfire was that it was heating up. Temperature yes, fishing....still slow by my standards. If we had to fish that lake again, they better be jumping in the boat. Aside from the shallow water, the cold breeze off the chilly waters, and maneuvering around tree stumps, the trip was a partial success. Our goal was to catch some toothy fish like pickerel and pike before waters became too warm. The morning started out with a very brisk 37 degree air temp and strong winds from the west.

We tried to capitalize on the shallow lake in hopes the water would have been warmer and with that increased fish activity. The shallow stump filled lake was hard to navigate with cloudy water and strong winds. We covered a lot of area with three of us in the boat though. Each throwing different combinations of cranks and colors. After a few hours, it felt like we threw everything but the kitchen sink. But there was hope, the rookie we took fishing hooked up with a nice pickerel on a lipless watermelon colored crank bait. It wasn't long before we matched suit with similar combinations.

During the late spring and summer the lake is typically covered in lily pads which could be seen just starting to grow. A prime opportunity to drag a frog across the pads to invoke a bass to swallow like a garbage disposal. The early action on the other hand was mild at best. We had slammed them last year on the larger lake under the same conditions. This would be a learning experience for us and something to reflect upon. But another day fishing is better than any day at work.

Check out Rob below with his first pickerel he has every caught.

Cold Water Crankin

With frost on the gunnel and a bone chilling breeze, we had decided to give the lake a try for some ample toothed fish. That being pickerel and pike. The weather had given us a chance to catch a mild day in February. Last April we were able to capitalize on these species of fish with a good catch of a dozen or so and each of us catching a hefty size fish in the mix. Although the other anglers on the lake we anxious to bag large mouths, we were perfectly content with our toothy friends. The adventure started on point that comes out toward the center of the lake. It has a shallow section comprised of rocky ledges that step down deeper like a pair of stairs.

This was the first freshwater fishing trip for me in years, so catching a tree or two from overcasting may have occurred. We worked the shoreline with our crank baits and eventually got a few bites. We decided to make another pass but a bit further away from the shoreline. By doing so, our crank baits would come across the first rock ledge and then come right over the deeper ledge step. Bingo bango. We fished this for the better part of an hour pulling our pickerel right and left. Other boats would cruise by saying we only caught a few pikes, like it was a bad thing. We couldn't disagree more, the fish were following our baits clear up to the boat and striking. The splashes were hitting us in the face even though the water felt like ice.

When felt as though we had fished the spot out, we moved on to some deeper coves on the far side of the lake. Changing up to some deeper diving cranks and putting on some brighter colors. Again it wasn't long that we pulled in a few nice pikes. This was a treat for me, being that I never caught pike or pickerel before in my life. They would put up a great fight and struck our lures like freight trains.

We decided to try one more spot before returning to shore to boast our fun. It was a shallow shoreline covered with cat tails and broken off stumps. We switched back to lip less crank baits and gave it our best. My buddy was able to pull out a pike that what was a giant to us. It was awesome, it was an anglers dream to have such a day filled with strikes, bites, and pikes. Our trip today though was nothing of the sort. We beat shorelines with our baits, the rock ledges, and even our honey holes. The water temps were just too cold still to activate the fish. It still beats any day at work, even with some frozen snot on your face. Below are our catches from last April.

Big Brown Down

Well shots were fired and fur fell to the ground. It was like watching those hunting shows that you think are staged. "Its the last day, and the last hour of our trip, and wouldn't you know it, the elk stepped out and presented a shot". Yeah it was kind of like that but more surreal. Now came time to do some real work, recover my harvest which was across a valley. Seems simple right,.... nah Jack. The elk I shot weight 400-500 pounds, its not just as simple as "Hey Willie, go get your truck". This would truly define the hunt aspect of harvesting big game animals.

I started my trek down the mountain, as we were at 9,000+ feet in elevation, and then climb back up the other side to find the elk. This was easier said than done, just thinking about it now makes me wish I had hit the treadmill harder. Once I made it to the bottom of the valley the aspen forest masked the location of the downed elk. With a general location of the animal, the trek uphill began. Trudging through branches and ducking under downed limbs was normal. There were no clean vertical pathways as the elk used horizontal paths on the mountain side to travel. Once enough elevation had been gained, the game trails could be followed, but with the heavy cover it made finding the elk difficult even when only feet separated us. Finally I caught a big noseful of the downed animal, just like mature bucks, this elk stunk. I turned into the wind and followed it to the prize.

My eyes couldn't take in the view all at once. It was like looking at a horse laid on its side. The last animal I had harvested was a sika deer, which in comparison to an elk is about 1/10 the size. With my excitement flowing through my body, I took a seat on a nearby log and just starred in amazement. A spur of a moment trip with a friend that I never met, took shape into a completed bucket list item. My partner eventually made it up the hill and found me hanging out on the log. "It's time to get to work", he said. After a few photo opportunities of course.

I dove into my field pack and pulled out an arrangement of Gerber knives. We had to maneuver the elk into position and cut some branches out of the way for a makeshift butcher shop. Believe me, take the time to clear your area, that one tree branch will get cursed out the entire time for being the way and could lead to you sliding that knife into your hand. It wasn't long before the body cavity was opened and the elk lost about 100+ pounds, it was like an in field tummy tuck. Then working from the back forward, one person held the leg while the other skinned it back, deboned the leg at the knuckle, and separated it from the body. Each leg section was put into field dressing bags to keep it clear of debris. This is also a good time for some black pepper for preservation of the meat. Remember once the animal is done, time is critical. The colder it is, the slower the clock but dealing with a frozen animal of this size would seem impossible.

Our temperature situation was about 40 degrees, not too cold but a long enough window for use to field dress and travel back to the truck. We continued our assault with several knives and bagged and tagged the elk. Since this was a cow there was no need cape out the head. The hide could also be saved but during this trip it wasn't of interest. Again proper care has to be taken in order to preserve it. With all the meat and four appendages bagged we loaded up for a trip down the valley and all the way up the other side. My partner who was notably older than myself would be a stationed halfway up the other side and I would go from there to downed elk and back. This process was repeated over a three hour period until all the meat made it to the truck. Since the appendages and field dressing bags were so large, we choose to use my water proof dufflebag to store the meat. Once back at camp we could put some ice right into the dufflebag.

So it felt like Karate Kid, up the mountain, down the mountain, repeat. Except every 50 feet, catch your breath and curse for not being in better shape. Then repeat. Dressing in layers though is key, all the physical strain is going to make your body generate heat. Since the trek up and down was along the same path, it allowed me to shed clothing along the way to picked up on the last trip out. It also gave you trail markers or to highlight trip hazard to stay away from. Of course when it starts to snow, this means nothing. The temperature dropped quickly and near white conditions started. Luckily we were nearly done.

This entire process took about 5 hours. Two minutes to pull the trigger and 5 hours to field dress, field butcher, and trek the meat out of the valley. That 9000+ feet elevation isn't too forgiving either. I was in a little better acclimatization being in Denver for over a week prior to the hunt. Although once you add a physical load, say hauling 80 pounds of meat out up a mountain side, it's a new ball game Jack. This hunt tested our physical abilities the most and I urge anyone doing a similar hunt to prepare for it. In the end, it makes the harvest a lot sweeter, even if you have to stop every 50 feet to catch your breath. This concludes my first elk hunt, below are a few treats for your viewing pleasure.

 

 

 

A Quiet Western Front

Welcome back to the second installment of my first hunting trip west. The excitement to shoot my first elk was overwhelming. I had packed, prepared my equipment, and even tried to condition my body for the challenges of the hunt. There I sat, the sun was cresting its light upon the eastern skyline. A light breeze crossed my face as I started to glass the slope over the valley. My hunting partner was positioned to my right about 200 yards away. It wasn't long before I realized the light brown bodies moving through the aspens were elk. Having never seen an elk in person added to the thrill. Was it going to be the first morning of the hunt to get a shot at my first elk?

Then the elk started to move quicker than expected. They had been moving from right to left which meant the shooting distance was decreasing. It wouldn't take long that they would be within 300 yards. While glassing from across the valley, the elk's body language changed abruptly. The herd of 8-10 cows balled together and with a few head shakes they quickly headed over the ridge disappearing instantly. For a first hand experience it was a great encounter.We would spend the rest of the day exploring the ridge tops and glassing the valleys from afar.

Day two started much the same. Elk were spotted in the same spot and we in position for another encounter. Well what quickly felt like everything falling into place, fell apart like a sandcastle in a rainstorm. The range of these elk was just over 500 yards from where I was setup. My hunting partner though, was in the perfect spot. I radioed over and described the location of the elk. After several attempts, the message just wasn't being received or at least my hunting partner didn't have eagle eyes like myself. The elk had finally broken into the open at the top of the ridge, a cool 600 yards from me alone. With a hail Mary shot my partner took a chance. There was no reaction to an impact and certainly no hair went flying. We watched the 8 head of elk trot over the slope side and out of site.

It would later be determined that the wrong reticle was used to gauge the elk's distance in my partner's scope. No worries, it was day 2 and we have plenty of land to cover through the week. We rode through the landscape and made our way back to camp. While glassing at several it wasn't long before a huge sandwich was feeding my hunger. It was at this time that I was able to sight in my rifle. While several attempts were made to get this completed at home, it just never worked out. A stick and piece of cardboard later and my make shift target was up. It didn't take long before my shots were more than satisfactory on target. My hunting partner was gracious enough to lend me a rifle for the first morning sit. I wasn't entirely comfortable with shooting a rifle for the first time at an animal. If the shot wasn't on target it could lead to a non-fatal shot which could permanently injury it.

The third morning I was completely prepared. The Kimber 8400 30-06 was shouldered and ready for action. I selected the Winchester 168 gr. ballistic tip bullets with black oxide coating. This selection would prove to be very effective and cost worthy. While the view was spectacular no elk would be seen on day two. The day was spent glassing the landscape and interacting with other hunters to gain intel. Several hunters were on the prowl for mule deer. We were happy to share locations of bucks we had seen in our travels and aided two sets of hunters to their harvest. Since we had seen the same group of elk for two days, it made sense to start there again the next morning.

Before we could start day 4, my head began to pound. Apparently starring through binoculars all day can really mess with your head. It hit me so hard that I ended up tossing my cookies on the wood pile outside the camper and skipped dinner for an early bedtime. My hunting partner shuck me at 4am for wake up and ask if I was alright. I could have felt better and jumped out of bed to provide my daily breakfast dish (eggs in basket) for the morning ride out. He was amazed that my health had bounced back so fast, it had to because this was our last day.

We decided to sit next to each other so that we could maximize our chances in viewing the heavy aspen forest. With tripods, binocs, and little hope we settled in behind the sage landscape from our side of the valley. The decline in hope was evident on my hunting partner's face as every moment ticked by. It was in the back of my mind as well but he optimist that I am kept a good poker face showing. Then my eagle eyes inherited by my grandfather came through. Two lone elk moving slowly in the aspen thicket were shining like a silver dollar in a storm drain. Of course it took a few minutes for my buddy to see the elk I spotted. Since we choose to sit down low on the slope, the shooting distance was about 250 yards.

The shooting sequence felt like an eternity. Waiting for the broadside of either of the cows was comparable to sitting through the SATs. The gun was snuggled nicely in the tripod, my breathing was calm as could be in the given situation, and the scope's cross hairs were tracking the body movements of the elk. Finally a small clearing was chosen in which one the elk stood still in. With a quick GO message to my partner the trigger was squeezed. With a bit of distance between us in the elk the shot was able to seen when impacted on the elk. The body language screamed as direct hit and the heel kicked taking a few more steps forward. As it did, another opening in the aspens allowed a quick follow up shot like a rebounding puck in front of an empty hockey net. I took it. The elk dropped in it's tracks.

We did it! A self guided hunt in the Colorado mountains for elk. Truly a high end goal for me in my hunting career completed. The excitement inside me could help but vibrate out of body, a few fist pumps in the air and huge man hug to my hunting partner and friend. The next five hours would be spent hauling the meat out of the valley and that story worth reading as I get to lay hands on my big brown prize.

Here are some of the views from the where the shot was taken:

West We Go

My trip began not at the airport, nor the long cold drive through the canyon....where got a flat tire at 3am, but at the 3 feet long tread mill in my home office. A hunting trip out west would be my most adventurous feat yet. I knew that elevation was going to kick my behind anyway, but if I could give my muscles a quick overhaul that it would be a little easier during the climbs up and down the valleys. After a few workouts on the treadmill and a 30 lb phony backpack....I felt more confident but surely not in shape.

The opportunity to hunt western Colorado came from a colleague of mine. Conversations of ordering numerous supplies with him grew tiring and one day I mentioned..."Oh I am going hunting this weekend". From there on out, we can spend only seconds talking about business before we hardly get a word out about how our hunting ventures went. It wasn't long thereafter when the words muttered out...."you should come out here and hunt"... It felt like seconds after that I knew I was going. I am not really sure how being gitty like a school feels but yeah I was comparable to that.

Now Pennsylvania has always been so simplistic to obtain a hunting license. You go to Walmart or a local gun shop...say "I need a license" and twenty minutes later you have tags on your back. I found myself zombie faced and staring at the regulations for CO on the Internet. Aside from a DNA sample, background check and Christmas Story decoder ring I would also have to jump through hoops to obtain an Elk tag. Ok, well its not that complicated but I did need some assistance along the way. We figured out the area we wanted to hunt (similar to WMUs in PA), and the date range of our hunting adventure. We planned on just doing cow elk so we could get an over the counter tag....no lottery thank god.

I was sitting at my desk when my friend called me in August..."hey I am standing in line at the DOW (Dept of Wildlife)....did you get your tag yet?" Me of course "oh crap". How could I forget? Then it clicked...not my brain but my mouse in my hand. "Yea Jeff I am online right now buying my tag". It was that easy. Colorado keeps an up-to-date spreadsheet with the animals, WMUs, and available tags left. A couple more clicks later and I had a receipt of my elk tag. It was suppose to be that easy....my tag didn't show up until days before my departure. Something about the company who had one job to do and send out tags to those kind folks that bought dropped the ball. No worries the plan came together.

I lined up the trip to arrive a few days earlier in Colorado to assist with attitude adjustment. If you have the chance to do so...I highly recommend it. Those couple of days couldn't have felt longer knowing I would soon embark on my elk hunting venture. Another level of excitement was quickly building too, my colleague Jeff in which I concocted this crazy idea with...we had never met in person. Let alone spending a week in the wilderness together, alright we were staying in a pretty sweet camper so it wasn't like 'Deliverence".

The taxi ride was short to his house and before I knew it we were shaking hands and sharing a beer in his kitchen. Wait it was a soda, because we were leaving once my crap was loaded into the truck. The drive was bittersweet. I had spent the evening at a business dinner where some grand idea was to eat at some crazy derkastan restaurant. The co-worker next me agreed to find the most normal thing on the menu and hope we could hold it down. Our host at the dinner loved to hear himself talk and as we wait for him to finally sign the check we could leave. Needless to say, the gas I passed on the trip west gagged me and Jeff in the truck.

Remember that flat tire I mentioned earlier, you know at 3am, yeah it was also on fire. What a way to start a trip, shaking bottles of water to put out a tire fire. A very used and borrowed utility trailer shared its problems with us on this trip, that wouldn't be the only flat tire. A few hours later we woke up from the Walmart parking in Rifle, CO. I was freezing cold because the heat stopped working and decided to college shop for breakfast in Walmart. Yes, I paid for my stuff, college shop means you find the first edible thing to eat you see when you are typically drunk. Walmarts in walking distance of college campuses...solid business plan.

A fresh spare tire and a load of groceries for the week and we were set out on our last leg of the trip. It took us a while to find a suitable campsite for the fifth wheel and before I knew it we were setup. With a few hours to spare, we figured lets take a ride and scout some areas. Of course the game warden stopped by to check out licenses and it provided the opportunity to discuss any successes she had heard about. It seemed most folks were filling tags in the area. It was a good interaction with Janny law and fueled out hopes in tagging out as well. The landscapes of our campsite alone were incredible as you can see from the pictures I shared below. But our hunting views would prove to be even better, in my next blog.