Deer Hunting #2 2006
In years past, we have rented a hotel and spent the night in Fairmont. This year, we decided to just make it "day trips" between Jordan and Fairmont (about 90 minutes). We got an early start. Joe picked me up at home, and we headed out from my house.
As I sat, watched the sun rise, I started hearing rustling down in the fields in and around the creek. The sounds I was hearing was not loud enough to be deer, so I sat and watched the grass rustle, until I could make out what it was that was causing all the movement. Pheasants! Lots, and lots of Pheasant. If memory serves me correctly, I saw close to fourteen Pheasants that morning, and three or four roosters!! This would have been an OUTSTANDING morning for Pheasant hunting, but - as it was I was deer hunting - So I kept to what I was there for, and enjoyed watching the pheasants running around. Honestly, a few times they "startled" me as they flushed from the brush! I made a game of identifying (as fast as I could) hen or rooster. The first couple took me a little longer, but it was just a few minutes, and I was right back to being able to pick out the roosters!.
As morning turned to afternoon, I moved a little more "up" the hillside to where the "farm" met the "field". There is a little barbwire fence there, and I set up along one of the fence posts.
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As it turned out, I was ready to expect - nothing... Joe arrived, and we decided to head back to the car. It was around noon, and Joe needed to eat lunch. This time, on our trip back to the far end of the farm (where Joe parked his car) - we walked the creek bed. We were way down in the valley, and walked through all the tall grass.
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As expected, I kicked up a few more pheasants, and not a single deer.
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After my experience at Ed's cabin, and such a still and quiet morning, I was ready.
Deer hunting #1 2006
First of all, it needs to be said that I was looking forward to returning to Ed's cabin again this year! It was an interesting year for deer hunting for me!
For the first time in TEN YEARS I hunted deer with Ed at his cabin. I was so excited to return, and I believe Ed was excited to have me back as well! My deer hunting experience started about 14 years ago. The first four or five years I hunted deer, was with Ed and his cabin. Nine years ago, my father-in-law asked me to join him deer hunting on their family farm in Fairmont, so I started deer hunting with Joe. Due to time, money, and license considerations, I was only able to hunt with Joe. (Has it been that long? Well, I just checked. My first Deer Hunting trip away from Ed's Cabin was in 1997 - I Deer hunted at Ed's cabin in 1996, so that means it has been ten years.)
Because of the way my work schedule fell into place, and (Since I bought the "Statewide All Season" license (SEE HERE)) I was able to hunt at both Ed's cabin and then a week later down south with Joe (my father in law) on their family farm.
Pre-Trip and Day 1
I had to prepare for the trip early, as I was leaving directly from work on Friday.
I had not yet got my license, so I had to make a stop at Cabella's again. As expected, the line was long. I took my place in line and settled in for a long wait. About 15 minutes into the wait (now about 6 people back from the front of the line, and with three other people behind me, an employee approached the line and said that he wanted the last 4 people (me and the three guys behind me))to turn around and go to the "Bait Shop" cashier, as they were going to start issuing licenses. Well, we did as we were told, and all turned around and walked away. As we did this (since I was "first" in the line of the four guys) as we turned around I became the "last" in the line of 4. This really was not a big deal to me at all because I was at least six people back in the main line, now I would only be four people back. As we got into the bait shop, the three guys in front of me all told me to go ahead of them, as I was in line before they were, and they all subsequently took their "respective" places in line. That, dear readers is what being a good person at heart is all about. I would have been fine being the fourth in line, but these guys all recognized the "order" in which we were, and respected that (without any input). I think this is what you will find in the hearts of MOST hunters. Good people.
I got my license, settled back into the car, and started off on my journey. I again prepared a CD of "Ron & Fez" shows (Best damn radio show on the planet), and I was so looking forward to spending a good couple of hours with the buddays (a show reference), but to my very strong disappointment, the CD I made had some sort of fatal error, and my player did not recognize the files. I was so disappointed. I had my back-up plan in place, and turned on the XM radio. Second choice: Opie & Anthony.
The rest of the trip was uneventful. I made it all the way to Aitkin. Checked in on the Cell phone with Michele, and with Ed before I lost the signal, and finished up the last 30 minutes of the trip.
The last leg of the journey is spend driving a dirt road thru the woods to the access road to Ed's cabin. While on this road, three deer crossed in front of me close enough to cause me to have to break quickly. (I am not traveling fast enough on this road to "lock 'em up".) I took this as a good sign!
Ed and John were already at the cabin, so when I arrived, things were well underway. Ed was just putting "dinner" (and I use that term loosely) on the fire, so I started to unpack. By the time I had my stuff stashed in the cabin, John started to set the table, and I helped him while Ed finished cooking. Well, "dinner" (which was more like a delectable, bountiful feast) consisted of 3 Black Angus Porterhouse steaks each weighing in at just about a pound and a quarter (They came from Ed's local butcher "Superior Meats") and "70 minute" wild rice. No exaggeration here folks... I like steak, don't get me wrong. I do not often buy or order it myself (I am not sure why), but I can -without any doubt or exaggeration - say that these were the best steaks I have ever had in my entire life. They cut with a fork. I honestly did not need a knife to eat mine. Out of respect for Ed I wont mention what he paid for these magnificent cuts, but rest assured they were the most amazing steaks I have ever had.
After dinner, we sat around the fire, smoking cigars, and enjoying one another's company.
Day 2
This was the first morning of hunting. Since just Ed and I were going out to hunt. Having been so many years since I last hunted at Ed's, I was not familiar with where all the deer stands are. They have names for each of the stands, and (because John was not hunting), I got his spot at the "Penthouse". Ed had to walk me to the area, and point it out to me, then he went off to his stand. "The Penthouse" is a nice sized stand with steps up and a patio chair, wrapped in camouflaged netting. It faces north, overlooking a large dip in the terrain. The backdrop is the lake, so other than an extreme angle to your right (east), you have a pretty safe shot.
I climbed up, settled into the stand, and dozed off for a while. I awoke just before legal hunting hours, and just started "observing" around me. I again got to watch a Pileated Woodpecker fly from tree to tree all around me. That was a beautiful site! Other than the squirrels playing in the leaves, and chasing each other up and down the trees, the morning was uneventful.
About mid morning, I turned around and noticed Ed walking slowly back past my stand, towards the cabin. He was quite a ways off, and was moving very slowly. I thought it was odd that he was heading back so soon, but since I had not hunted at the cabin for so many years, I thought maybe that's just the way he hunted. As Ed got closer, I noticed something "odd". Ed kept "fanning" the area around his "backside". He would walk a few paces, stop, and fan - walk a few paces, stop, and fan. I did not pick up on that he was trying to signal me, so I started packing up my gear, and slowly (matching Ed's stride) met up with him. When I met up with him I discovered he had to head back in to yield the "call of nature"... So, I slowly made my way back to the stand, and resumed hunting. The next couple of hours were very quiet. I saw nothing more. I decided to call it a morning, and head back in.
We spent the remainder of the day around the fire, reading Cabella's catalogues, throwing rocks on the ice, and visiting.
As evening approached, we prepared to return to the field. We both took up our original positions, (I was in the "Penthouse" again) and settled in. I could hear a few shots off in the distance, but nothing too close.
It was about the time I had started "nodding off" when from my right (east) I could hear some rustling in the leaves, and as I turned and looked, I noticed two does walking along my side of ridge on the opposite side of the valley. The lead doe was larger than the second, so I made my choice. I raised my gun, and put the cross hairs on the deer, and started following her. As she crossed thru my field of vision, I waited for a better shot. I was not until about two thirds of the way thru my field of vision that a shot opened up in my scope. She was slowly walking, when I took a shot. Both deer froze for just the most brief of moments, and then started more of a gallop down the same path they were on. I saw no signs of a hit. Both deer were still within (what I felt was) my range of fire, so I ejected, and chambered the next round. I quickly shouldered the gun, and got her back in the cross hair. This was a little bit more difficult shot, as she was moving a bit faster. I lined up what I thought would be a good shot, and took it. This time, I saw her hind legs kick out like a mule, and now she ran hard and fast to the left (Westbound). I was pretty sure I had hit her this time.
I have learned over the years, that the best thing to do after hitting a deer (weather it was a kill/drop or a wound/flee) is to sit. I have been told and read about a couple of different theories over the years, but a conservative average seems to be twenty minutes. So I sat. I sat for what seemed like a very long time. As I sat, I started worrying that she may be out there suffering, and that by waiting, I am just allowing it to happen. As the time passed, I felt more and more "paranoid" that perhaps I should go out and end any suffering I have caused this deer, and in the end, (against my own "better judgement") I started to climb down out of the deer stand after just under ten minutes. (Ten minutes does not seem that long, but when you are sitting there just waiting for time to pass, time seems to slow down).
I had marked (in my mind) where I felt I hit the deer, and started off in that general direction. I was quiet as I approached the area, trying to listen carefully to everything around me. I heard nothing. My hope was that I had hit her critically enough that she just dropped over dead a few dozen yards from the kill site. When I arrived at the area I thought I hit her, I began my search. I could not locate anything in the "exact" area I estimated, so I started a "spiral" search.
After covering the area I was sure I had hit her in and finding nothing, I was starting to wonder if I hit her at all, or if I hit her, was just a grazing wound, or a would that would have bled very little. I decided to walk in the direction the deer fled. About fifteen yards from where I "thought" I hit her, I noticed the tell-tale signs confirming I did indeed hit her... Blood.
It was now sundown, and getting dark, about 30 minutes before the end of legal shooting hours. Now that I had a blood trail, I thought for sure I would be bringing a deer back to camp! I began following the blood trail. It started off pretty easy. The trail headed west-south-west along a level plane, and then started heading up the hill in a more south-west direction. I (for a moment) lost the trail, but picked it up again very quickly. The trail continued up the hill until it reached a small opening in a small patch between several trees. Here, I lost the trail. I went over, and over the trail. I started from the beginning again, and followed the trail two more times. By now it was dark enough that without my flashlight, I could not see the blood on the ground, and finding the "next droplet" was getting harder even when I knew "about" where it was.
It was with a very heavy heart that I decided to head back to the cabin, and with head hung low, and a sick feeling in my stomach, I sulked back.
When I arrived at the cabin, John was sitting by the fire, and Ed had not yet returned from the field. John asked if the shots he had heard were mine, and so as I unloaded, and unpacked my gear for the night, I shared my woeful tale with him. About three-quarters of the way thru the story, Ed came traipsing back through the woods to the cabin (empty handed), and so I re-told the story again.
This was one of the worst feelings I have ever had. By this point, I was contemplating the possibility of giving up hunting altogether. The thought of having injured a deer (and not killing it), and of it still in the field somewhere suffering, was one that truly hit me HARD. Ed and John both tried to make me feel a little better, and they shared their stories of "lost deer" over the years - which made me feel better in that I was not the only one who has ever done this, but it did not make me feel better about the deer that was still in the field. Both John and Ed (again trying to reassure me) convinced me that this deer will most likely not make it through the night, or the next day or two, and that it will not go to waste because other animals will eat the deer. This only slightly improved my demeanor.
It was now dinner time. Ed had picked up 6 of the biggest country style pork ribs I have ever seen. Combined they weighed in just under 5lbs (they were so big we each had only 1 rib). These ribs were so good, they took my mind off the injured deer in the woods (at least for a few minutes). The remainder of that night was spent visiting, drinking and smoking. We decided (even though I had already decided this) that after the morning hunt, Ed and I would together try and pick up the blood trail again in the morning.
That evening, I had a hard time sleeping, and (for the first time in all the years I have been visiting the cabin) I had to use the outhouse... If you know what I mean... (This is a story for another time.)
Day 3
My final day for deer hunting at Ed's cabin.
After a long and restless night, the alarm clock woke me, and I found that foreboding feeling still lingering. During my "long and restless" night I had decided that I was not going to fire my gun at another deer this weekend. NO MATTER WHAT. A state record setting buck could cross within feet of my stand, and I was going to take photos of it - nothing more. I trudged through the woods, made it to the stand, settled in, and (I think because of my "long and restless night") quickly fell asleep. I stayed asleep well into legal shooting hours. This was alright because some time after 9am I was going to get down from the stand and resume my search where I left off yesterday.
About 8:45 am I had decided that I was going to wait another hour before resuming my search. I knew Ed was out hunting, and I did not want to make too much commotion. By 9:15 am, my impatience caught up with me, and I slowly and quietly came down from the stand, and started from the beginning again.
I found the trail right away, and followed it as I had several times the day before. The trail was much easier to see in the full light of the day.
In the full light of day, it only took me a few minutes to discover that the deer had stopped in the opening (where I had lost the trail the day before) and had doubled back (about 2 feet away from her original path - which is why I think I did not see the 2nd trail - The trails were so close to each other that it was hard to tell them apart ). This is where my degree in law enforcement helped out a bit. During my training, we learned a bit about blood droplets and how to "read" them. Today in the daylight the subtle differences were apparent. Within minutes, I had picked up the trail again.
I followed the trail for what seemed like a long distance (now that I look back, I can see how short it was compared to the yet undiscovered portion of the trail), when I happened along a (what I thought to be) larger "pooling" of blood. It was evident that this is where the deer stopped for period. I would estimate the pooling to be the diameter of a softball. I did take photographic "evidence" of said spot, and then continued along the trail. About the same distance between "lost trail spot" and "blood spot 1", I came across a place that I believe she bedded down for the night. Here was a significant amount of blood pooled, and it was still fresh, bright red and wet - (I believe that she laid down here, and by doing so, covered the blood keeping it from drying out.) This spot is where I started feeling a little better. Having lost this much blood, I hoped that (assuming continued bleeding) this deer would not be able to last long. Again after taking photographic "evidence", I continued down the trail.
I was easily 30 minutes into a search now, and still had a trail to follow. I was beginning to be hopeful that I may yet find the deer. Several yards west of "blood pool 2" the trail took an abrupt turn right (north) along a very thick and dense area of growth. As I headed north, the land I was on was getting lower, and we entered a portion of the property that is swamp. Lots of downed trees, sunken areas, small mounds... Very rugged terrain.
I followed the trail north, as it wove between trees, stumps, rocks, and mounds. The blood droplets were beginning to get significantly smaller, and harder to find. I would have been about an hour into this search by now, and I kept up hope that just around the next tree, or behind that next log, I would find a deer carcass. I heard some crashing to my right (west), and listened carefully as the sound moved north, then east. I very large doe (not the one I shot - no signs of blood on it) come crashing thru the brush, stop and look at me, then leap up, and bound off in a westerly direction at a high rate of speed. Just shortly after seeing the doe run by me, I actually lost the trail all together. I backtracked and found the trail, and stated again. Still not finding anything, I left my bag at the last droplet, and started a spiral search around the area.
After several spirals around the last known sign of the deer, I started hearing Ed come down the hill into the swamp. He met up with me, and I filled him in with what I had found, and where I was in search up to this point. We (together) started searching for signs, and it was not long after that Ed (being the fine outdoors man / hunter that he is) picked up on the trail again, and we continued down the trail.
One thing Ed did different that I did (and I learned from) was he left a blaze orange item at each of the spots we passed, so we could "see" the trail that the deer took, and if we lost the trail, it was very easy to find the last known spot. After two or three more droplets were found, we went back and grabbed the orange item furthest behind us and used that for the next marker (leap frog style).
(Note to self: Get a roll of blaze orange trail marker to throw in your hunting bag so you don't need to "leap frog".)
By now there were not more droplets on the ground at all. We were finding where the deer brushed up against a tree, or a leaf or a branch. The trail was becoming more and more difficult to follow. A couple of times we really had a hard time finding the next sign of blood, but after a close search, we came up with one.
Things went like this for another hour or more. After 30 minutes of unsuccessfully searching beyond the last sign of blood (with other evidence to go off of) we decided to call off our search. This pretty much ruined the rest of my day. I was hoping I would either find the injured doe, or a deceased doe. I so wanted to do the right thing.
I started my second walk of dread back to the cabin with my spirits broken.
The rest of the afternoon was spent around the fire, around the shed(s) (A.K.A. - "Man Central"), around the lake, playing with Jake.. Ya know.. just doin' "man stuff".
When the time came around for the evening hunt, I was again reminded about how bad I was feeling about the injured doe. As I dressed for the field, I reminded myself that this trip to the woods was to relax, take in the sights, sounds, smells and sounds of the woods ONLY. I was feeling stressed out enough, and an afternoon (nap?) in the woods was just what the doctor ordered.
Ed went back to his regular stand, and this afternoon, John was going to use the penthouse, so I went back and sat at Jim's (a good friend and former neighbor of Ed's) stand. The stand sits along the south ridge of a bowl shaped valley. The other side of the bowl is over 100 yards. The first thing I noticed what I got to Jim's stand is how much smaller it was than the penthouse. That is not all bad. It had a more "cozy" feel to it, and honestly it was easier to sit and lean back against the tree. (The penthouse has a chair in it.). The afternoon was perfect. The weather was perfect. It was a great afternoon, and although I did not nap, it was just what the doctor ordered. The other observation I had was the proximity to Ed's stand. I was less than one hundred yards away, but we were effectively back to back. His blaze orange stood out, and was very easy to spot, as was (I assume) mine. I know that I was not going to be doing ANY shooting, and I trust Ed's shooting completely, so it was a non issue.
After the events of the weekend, and looking at a long drive home, I decided that I was going to pack it in around 4pm. That way I could be back to the cabin, packed up and ready to hit the road between 5:00 - 5:30pm. I settled into the stand and started to let myself "de-stress".
The "de-stressing" was going along quite well. Around 3:30 I started noticing movement on the ridge across the valley from me. I knew right away by the coloring and the movement that I was looking at a doe. I grabbed my binoculars and watched as the doe started walking a perpendicular line across my field of vision. The deer was way out of a "responsible" shot (regardless of my earlier bad experience). As I sat and glassed the deer, I immediately noticed two other deer. I sat back, and watched the three deer pass. About the time they were straight out in front of me, a fourth and much larger buck followed along the same path. The does went over a small crest and rallied in a small opening. By this time I was having to really strain to see them between all the trees that blocked my line of sight. I could hear them continue in a west-south-westerly direction, and thought perhaps Ed was going to have a shot at them. I sat and waited for the rapport from the .30-06. Nothing came. I refocused my attention on the buck, and watched as it followed along the same path the does took.
Anyway, when I was convinced that the deer were well out of Ed's range, I settled in for the last 20 minutes or so before I was going to head in. I closed my eyes, and started to think back on the trip (and how to blog about it) when >>BOOM<<.
This point of the story is out of my hands. I know there is a story on how the deer crossed back and forth thru Ed's field of vision. Perhaps he could send it to me, and I could add it in... Ed?
I turned to look back where Ed was, and noticed him sitting still in a shooting stance, looking thru his scope. I tried to glass him with the binoculars, but had only a very limited view (due to trees in the way). I kept watching for him to signal me, but he just stayed still. I was not even sure he was the one that fired until I noticed him slowly sliding the bolt action. He returned to the shooting position, and I was still waiting for a signal of one kind or another. When I never got one, I settled back into my seat. I was confident Ed knew what he was doing, so I just settled in.
>>BOOM<<
I look back, and it did not appear Ed had even moved. He was still in the sitting position. This time the difference was that he was not quite as "still" as he slid the bolt back. I saw him pick up his binoculars and look off into the distance. After a moment, he turned to look at me, then back out over the deer stand again. If he got a deer, I knew he was going to sit tight for a while, so again I settled in. This time frequently turning to check on Ed.
It was only a few minutes before I saw him stand up, turn to me, and wave me over. I packed my gear up, and started down, and towards Ed's stand. When I got there, he relayed to me the story of having seen the same set of deer, watched them as they continued away from where I was, and then curved around. Again, I hope to add some details here from Ed, but the second shot was the charm. We walked across an open area, and then into a swampy, overgrown area, and laying before us was a 4 point buck! I broke out the camera and took some field photos, and we got the business of field dressing the buck.
After field dressing the buck, we had to drag it about half the way back to the stand, as we could not get an ATV back into the swampy area that the buck dropped. We dragged the deer to an opening, and started heading back to the penthouse where John was hunting. He used a ATV to get into the woods, and had it parked a distance away from the stand. Ed and his dad grabbed the ATV and went to get the buck, while I headed back to the cabin.
I arrived at the cabin and found Chris (Ed's brother in law) at the cabin. We said our hellos and I started telling him both stories (Ed's success, and my failure). He told me the story about how he had "got one" a few days prior, when he hit a deer with the car he was driving (a work vehicle). As we told our stories, I began to pack up. By the time I had all my things packed and laid out to pack in the car, Ed and John pulled up with the deer. Together we got the deer hung, and cleaned a little more. Jake was very interested in the deer!
After hanging and cleaning the deer, I started to pack the car, and was just about ready to head out when Ed broke out dinner for the third night. He had humongous butter-garlic marinated chicken breasts. Let's just say he did not have to work too hard to convince me to stay for dinner!
After dinner I was all packed up, so we cleaned up, and started saying goodbyes when another vehicle pulled up the road. Ed's Mom, Sister (Chris' wife), their daughter, and a family friend stopped up to see how things were going. It was great to see Ed's mom again. She has been my "2nd mother" over the years, and any time I get the chance to visit with her, I take the opportunity!
After a short visit, it was time for me to head out. My drive home was uneventful, and gave me a chance to reflect on the weekend.
To try and help alleviate the guild I was feeling about wounding the deer this year, I (make fun of me if you want, but I am - after all - A faithful Catholic) prayed to
1. The first thing I did was return to work with a resolve to update and improve the "Deer List" which had not been done in two years.
2. I decided that before firing a slug thru the barrel of that gun again, I was (at least) going to get it bore sighted again, and site the gun in again. I would love to get myself a rifle, but at this time in my life - I just cannot afford one. If I cannot do these things, I will not be slug hunting with that gun until I do.
3. I have also resolved to spend some extra time (which is very valuable to me, and I have precious little of as it is) "re-educating" myself on deer hunting techniques, tips, and so-forth.
4. I will make additional donation(s) to a wildlife program.
5. I will share this story with my boys before they hunt, so they too can learn from my mistakes.
My hope is that whatever happened to the deer, did not happen in vain. I like to think I learned from this experience, and that the deer either "made it" (which I doubt) or that the deer was used as food by other scavengers in the woods, and at least some form of benefit will come of the tragedy of this weekend.
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Deer Hunting 2004
We have been hunting on my Uncle Greg's cabin ever since our first trip there. I will try to tell my story, but having been about a year, some of the small details have been forgotten, or become fuzzy. Please forgive me. This story represents my best recollection of the events of that weekend.
My father-in-law Joe, and I were hunting at Uncle Greg's cabin again this year. This year was not (as I recall) uncomfortably cold. It was a crowded year for hunting. There were at least two other hunters East of Uncle Greg's and we had to be more careful than usual when out in the field.
The morning in question was quiet. I was sitting on the ground near "Oakwood", the tree fort that Bob and I built when we were kids. I spent most of that morning on the top of the south side of the ravine, hunting north. I thought Joe was north east of me on the opposite side of the ravine (which I later discovered was not true). I had been hearing "rustling" off to my right (east) near the slew, but could not tell if it was wildlife, Joe, or another hunter.
As the morning drew on, I was able to determine that it was, in fact, another hunter. It was not long after, that I began hearing some additional rustling coming from the northwest. Convinced it was squirrels, I sat back, closed my eyes, and tried to use my hearing to hone in on the source of the sound. Several minutes went by and I began to notice a white animal, about the size of a dog, thru the trees. I watched as the dog zigzagged its way thru the woods moving in my general direction. This dog appeared to come from the road, and was (after several minutes) still meandering towards me. After several minutes the dog started getting bigger. I was convinced it was a husky that may belong to one of the other hunters in the woods.
I was not sure how this dog would react to me if or when it reached me. I had to weigh my options. Hopefully the dog would be friendly, but if it was going to attack me, I decided I would be willing to defend myself. I was, after all, armed. As the white dog continued to come closer, I noticed it was not alone. There was another brown dog with the white one, and they were both still heading towards me. The closer they got, the less I could believe my eyes. When they arrived at the bottom of the ravine I was finally convinced that what I was seeing was actually what I was seeing. In front of me was two does. One of the does was a full albino! It was completely white. Later it was close enough that I could even see that it's eyes and nose were pinkish.
I was not sure what to do in this situation. My heart beat faster and harder than usual. By now the deer was within 15 yards of me, and at the bottom of the ravine. I put the bead of my site on the brown deer (not knowing about the legality of shooting an albino), but I was so intrigued by the site of this albino that I became almost hypnotized to its presence. Joe was down the ravine from me, and the deer were beginning to climb the north side of the ravine and head towards where Joe was hunting. The albino deer, and my hoping that Joe would get a deer (he has not taken one yet * since we started deer hunting together so many years back) kept me from shooting the brown doe. I then lowered my gun and watched the deer as they crossed my line of site and went off towards where Joe was sitting. I could have kicked myself for not having a camcorder, or a camera with me in the field. (Lesson learned)
I sat and listened to the deer as they left my field of vision. I was hoping that I would here Joe take the brown doe. After several minutes, I could no longer hear the deer, and it was not long after, that I heard the report of a gun. I stayed where I was for several more minutes hoping to hear Joe call out for me to help him. When he never called I started heading towards his direction. It was then that I discovered he had been on my side of the ravine the whole time and that it he was not the hunter who had taken the deer. I stopped and talked to Joe for a few minutes and then went back to where I was sitting. Quite some time later where the ravine drops down (where the two deer originally came from) I saw two hunters pulling the brown doe out through the woods.
Once again, this hunting trip, I found myself intrigued by the awesome beauty of what God had put before me. The captivating beauty of it overpowered any need in me to take these deer. I sometimes wonder if what I am doing in the woods is really "hunting". I am not interested in giving up "hunting" if it means giving up the time I spend in the woods, sitting, relaxing, and enjoying the beauty of all that is around me. I know that if the right circumstance comes up, I would take a deer. I have, after all, taken one in the past. Ultimately, I believe there is a time and place for hunting, and for "hunting". I feel lucky enough to have discovered the difference between the two. My wish for you (reader) and for all hunters is that you are fortunate enough to experience and enjoy both versions of hunting as I have.
Deer Hunting 2001
Joe and I hunted on my Uncle Greg and Aunt Marilyn's property, south of Pine Center Minnesota in the Roosevelt Township of Crow Wing County. This was the first time I have hunted on Greg & Marilyn's land, and I was very excited to hunt there. While Growing up, Uncle Greg & aunt Marilyn's cabin was a big part of my life. They would often invite me to join them, and I spent many weekends with my cousins Bob and Mark at the cabin fishing, boating, and playing around in the back woods. Several years ago (while still very young) Bob, Mark, and I built a little "Shack" in the woods that we called "Oakwood" * To be honest, I do not even remember how old Oakwood is. (A minimum of 12 years to the best of my knowledge.) And it was fun to see Oakwood still standing.
Uncle Greg met us at the cabin, so that he could show us a few things that needed to be turned on, and then what to do when we left. We arrived at the cabin at about 7pm, and Greg was already there, and had a fire in the fireplace * giving us a "head start" on heating the cabin. Greg helped us unload the car, and spent some time showing me around * where to find firewood, electricity, and how to close up the cabin when we leave. While this was going on, I was visiting with uncle Greg, and realized that it has been nearly 10 years since the last time I spent any length of time at the cabin. (I have stopped by, peeked in windows, fished on the dock, and left notes for Greg & Marilyn since, but the last time I was at the cabin for an "overnight" was in 1992 when our cousin Cindy and her husband (from Maine) were in Minnesota and had come to the cabin for a visit. There have been many changes at the cabin, and it felt very "cozy". Many old memories came flooding back to me while visiting the cabin this weekend. It was very nostalgic, and very very delightful! I cannot thank Uncle Greg and Aunt Marilyn enough for allowing us to use the cabin this fall!
First morning out we arrived at our seats at 0625 hours (shooting time). It was not a very cold morning (about 35 degrees). Within minutes of sitting down, I could hear shots off in the distance from all directions. Abundant in the woods all around me was many squirrels. (Grey, with an occasional red showing up) * it was delightful listening to them scampering about, digging in the leaves. Within 30 minutes of sitting down, a small doe (yearling) came from my right side down in the valley, and slowly started walking up the opposite side of the valley from me, about 75 yards east of my location. I tried to put a bead on her, but because she was in constant motion it was difficult to keep a good site picture on her.
(It did not help that this was the first year I had my 12-gauge slug barrel (with attached scope) sited in and usable. Since I have never hunted with a scoped gun before, I found it very different from what I was used to * I can see that hunting with my scoped slug barrel will take some getting used to before I am proficient with it.)
As she climbed the opposite side of the valley, she got deeper and deeper into some brush/cover, and made it almost impossible for me to get a shot off (the trees and brush would knock the slug around * minimizing my accuracy), so I made the decision to sit back and watch her finish climbing the hill. It was gorgeous seeing her in her natural habitat. Her tail flinching up (sensing danger) * looking around, and dropping the tail, resuming her journey up the hillside. I am so accustomed to seeing deer in an urban setting that it was worth not shooting the doe to just observe her in her natural habitat. Not long after setting my gun in my lap, she faded off in the distance (finding out later * about 20 yards behind Joe * who was facing the other direction). Not even 2 minutes after seeing the first doe, a second one came into my field of view from the exact same place as the first one. I (again) tried to put a bead on her, and when I could not find her in the scope, I lowered the gun, and saw a third doe. This doe was very large, and I had decided that this was the deer I was going to try to bag. Again I tried to put the doe in my site picture, but was not having any luck. I tired at least 3 times to put her in the scope * without successes. The smaller doe was leading with the larger doe following behind about 5 feet. I found the smaller doe in my scope a couple of times, but I continued to look for the larger doe. As they reached the top of the ridge (following the first small doe) they also moved through some thicker brush, making a shot harder to find and less accurate. I (again) made the decision that these two were out of range, and I started to enjoy watching them move through the woods! At the top of the ridge, the two does took a hard left * and started walking the top of the ridge, heading west. They moved past the heaviest brush, and started heading closer to me. I (yet again) tried to put a bead on the large doe, but was only able to find the younger one in my scope. I was not able to keep the crosshairs on her long enough to take a responsible shot, and as they turned northbound (heading away from me) I put my gun in my lap and watched them as they strolled out of my site. I can tell you that my pulse and blood pressure were off the charts! I was very excited, and was feeling the effects of adrenaline.
After thinking about the scenario, I am glad that I did not take any of those 3 does. I am fairly certain that what I saw was a doe with her two yearlings (who were still dependent upon their mother). Looking back, I can say with complete confidence that not taking any of the does was best decision I could have made. Firstly it is not every day that I get to observe wild deer, in their own surroundings, not aware that I am there. Secondly I did my part in some "conservation", by keeping 2 younger does with their mother for (at least) a little longer.
As far as deer goes, that was the extent of what I saw for the day. Throughout the remainder of the day, I was able to listen to the squirrels as they started chattering warning each other of the owl I spotted flying into one of the pine trees nearby. I got to watch the owl for a while, and then watch it fly away (no doubt looking for a different * unsuspecting squirrel for its next meal). Of course there were also the typical "dozing off" naps throughout the morning and into the afternoon.
As evening approached, time became a factor because we had decided to attend church that evening so that we could hunt straight through Sunday morning. As I contemplated getting up and heading out to meet Joe, I heard a shot that seemed very close. I could not tell it was Joe, until I heard him using the action on his gun, then I knew it was his shot that I heard. Not knowing where he was shooting, I dropped to a knee (for safety reasons) and waited a moment. Joe then took a second shot. I could see now see him from where I was, and noticed him getting down from his seat. I approached him, and found out that a buck had come out of the swamp, and Joe took a shot. The buck stumbled, got up and ran a few yards where it stopped. This is where Joe took his second shot. The buck then ran west through the valley and disappeared from site. Joe and I went down to where the buck was when he first shot, and we could see where the buck stumbled through the leaves, but did not find any sign that Joe hit the buck (blood). Because the leaves were freshly fallen, we were able to follow the steps the buck took as it ran. We followed it through the valley, and about three-fourths of the way back to the cabin, there was a very loud shot heard just NorthWest of where we were.
My estimation of what happened was that after Joe missed the deer, it ran (noisily) through the woods Westbound * as we followed it, it continued to run where the last two cabins on the lake are at, and a hunter in the area of the other two cabins heard it coming, and took the buck (or also missed it as it ran away*)
We ended up missing church, because I located an older Church Bulletin in the cabin (from 1998) which said Saturday mass was at 5:30pm. We got there and found out that mass was actually at 4:00pm.
The rest of the evening was uneventful and most relaxing. We enjoyed dinner, and some television before heading to bed.
Sunday morning was as uneventful as Saturday afternoon was. Not a deer was seen or heard. I was quite surprised to hear (what I am certain was) a wild turkey * gobbling as it walked (what sounded like) up and down the road in front of Greg and Marilyn's garage. I was also able to hear the playful sounds of the squirrels in the woods again. As church time grew closer, we called it a morning, and went in to get ready for church.
It was a lot of fun to visit Holy Family Church again. It had been many-many years since I was last at the church, and a few improvements had been made, but overall it was much like I remembered it. Church at the cabin also brought back many fond memories. Bob, Mark and I used to have a hard time not laughing out loud when the older Priest clanked his glasses against the chalice when it came time for communion. We also had nicknames for all the alter-boys.
After church, we returned to the cabin, had some lunch. We relaxed in front of the television for a bit, then packed up our things, packed up the car, and packed up the cabin, so that when we were done hunting that afternoon, we could just pack up what we had with us and jump in the car to leave. It was about 3:00pm when we finally made it back out to the woods. Joe took up the same position he was hunting on Saturday, and Sunday morning. I moved further East down the ridge, closer to the opening near the swamp, and set up on the ground at the base of a tree. It was a beautiful day, it was gorgeous, and just sitting there in the woods could only be described as heavenly.
As sunset was approaching I still had not seen or heard a deer. I was starting to think about packing it in, when out of the corner of my eye (to my right) I saw a doe coming along the shoreline of the swamp. I raised my gun and put the deer in the crosshairs. This time I was able to put a bead on the animal, and just as I was flicking the safety to "off" on the gun, Joe shot at the deer. Through the scope I saw the deer stumble, get up and start working it's way to my right (back towards the swamp). As I was about to take a second shot at the deer, it moved behind the hill and out of site from where I was sitting. We both converged in the area, and walked towards the swamp, where we last saw the deer, and I was able to spot the blood trail. We discussed trailing the deer, when I spotted the doe at the top of the ridge on the opposite side of the swamp. I made the decision to head up to that spot. Just prior to arriving at the location where I last saw the deer, I was able to pick up the blood trail again, and so I knew I was on the right trail. Additionally I heard something in the woods about thirty yards ahead of me. I was not able to verify that it was the deer, but I was able to hear it until I got to (about) the half way mark around the swamp. The shot was (in my opinion) a non-critical hit, and I feel it was hit in the leg. The way the deer was limping around the swamp, and the way the leaves were disturbed on the ground, it appeared that it was dragging a leg as it walked, and I think that may have been what I was hearing.
I continued half way around this swamp and lost the blood trail completely. I did follow what I believed to be the trail through the leaves, until the trail went cold. By this time I had made it three-fourths the way around the swamp. I backtracked to the last place I saw blood, and started to trail again.
(Lesson learned * when backtracking work your way back several feet AWAY from the original trail, so as not to disturb any blood that you may yet find on the trail.)
I did return to the last spot I saw any blood, and started the trail again. I was lucky enough to locate some blood that I had walked over while backtracking. I followed the trail, and was able to locate two additional blood spots on the ground (in addition to the one I had disturbed while backtracking). The last blood I was able to locate took me about the two-thirds way around the swamp. It was getting dark by now, and was definitely past shooting hours (one half hour past sunset) making tracking the deer very difficult. The last sign I saw of the deer was a patch of fur the deer left (possibly from the wounded area) located about three-fourths the way around the swamp. I could hardly see the ground by now, and definitely could not see anymore of the trail. I was so disappointed that I was not able to locate the doe. It weighed heavily in my heart. The last thing I wanted was to have an injured deer running around the woods, but I did everything I could to locate the deer. This is where I made the decision to stop trailing the deer. It was a difficult decision to make, but it was getting dark enough that my blaze orange was not showing up as bright as it should, and for my own safety's sake, knew that it was time to head back. The last quarter way around the swamp was very difficult. It was getting pretty dark, and the brush was so think, I could hardly make it through. After making it through the brush, I still had 2 very large ridges to climb before making it back to the original spot where the deer was shot. After having to follow Joe's voice to where he was at, I met back up with him, and I apologized for not being able to locate the deer. It was with a heavy heart that we then started our trek back to the car, to pack up and leave. I made one last stop at "Oakwood" to say "goodbye" and made it back to Joe's car.
It was well after sundown, and very dark, and I was completely exhausted, and thoroughly disappointed to have to leave an injured deer behind as we did our final checks on the cabin, and left to return home * finishing our deer hunting trip for 2001.
I had a fantastic time, and it was a beautiful weekend. One of the best parts of the hunting trip this year was being able to make new memories to go along with my childhood memories surrounding uncle Greg and aunt Marilyn's cabin. I could not be more grateful for the generosity and trust of my Uncle Greg and Aunt Marilyn, and would love the opportunity to do this again in the future.
David
Deer Hunting 1998
My father-in-law Joeseph Nawrocki, brother-in-law Michael Nawrocki, and myself left for our 2nd hunting trip to my grandfather-in-law’s (Stanley Nawrocki) farm. The farm is located near Fairmont MN, 3 miles north of Grenada MN. The Deer season did not start until Saturday, November 6th, and we arrived sometime in late morning / early afternoon hours on Friday November 6th. We drove directly to the farm, and began Pheasant hunting. Joe and I were the only two with a pheasant stamp.
We walked the corn field boarding the bean field. The beans had already been harvested, but the corn was still standing. We saw nothing. After returning to the truck, we stopped at K-Mart (I forgot boots, and had to purchase a 2nd set.) and then checked into the hotel. After unpacking, we laid down for a nap, after agreeing to set an alarm, get up and return to the farm for more hunting at 3:30pm. Three-thirty rolled around, Joe and I had fallen asleep and Michael stayed up watching TV. The alarm went off, and Joe wanted to keep sleeping. Mike and I went back out to the far, and started out at the north end of the property at the creek, and walked the meadow. We walked south, and scared up a couple of birds. I came back to the hotel with one.
Next morning (Deer opener), we made it to the farm about 10 minutes before legal shooting time. The temperature was in the mid 30’s, and overcast. Mike and I dropped Joe off at the north end of the farm (near the creek) and Mike and I started at the south end of the farm. The plan was that Joe would walk in wb to the meadow near the creek, I would do the same, and Mike would cross at the culvert, and take a position watching the corn west of the creek, and the open bean field. Joe settled in, I settled in the corn, and watched Mike cross the creek and work his way out of my vision behind the corn. Waiting for any action, I began nodding in and out of sleep - it was not too cold, and very quiet, and calm. I sat in the corn facing wb. Behind me, at to my right (NE of where I was sitting) I heard something walking through the corn. I did not want to scare whatever was coming, so I sat as still as I could. I waited about 15 to 20 minutes after I heard the rustling end, and got brave enough to stick my head out of the corn. As I very carefully peeked out of the corn rows, I saw a buck about 150 yards NW of my location. I froze, and watched the deer head down into the creek bed. I waited another 5 minutes watching the west end of the creek for the deer to come back up. It never did show. About this time, I saw Joe Coming over the ridge walking sb towards me. I tried to get his attention and flag him down the creek, hoping that he would scare the buck back up the creek bed, or bank of the creek - opening up a shot. At this point I began stalking down into the meadow along the fenceline. Mike came into view on the NW end of my vision on the other side of the creek. We began walking closer towards each other, and at the point where we were within talking proximity, I had decided that We were too close together to make a safe shot anyway, and began explaining what I saw, and why I was flagging them down to the creekbed, The buck poked up, and began a high speed sprint sb - crossing between Joe, and myself. I can say with certainty that I heard someone yelling to take a shot at it. Everything else blacked out (like they say) and I got “tunnel vision” with the deer. I brought the gun up, and took my first shot. I was way off. I blame it on getting the gun up from an unready stance, and opening the safety. After I got the first shot off, I remember sliding the action back, and my fingers slipping. I caught the back end of the action with my pointer finger and thumb, and just barley got the gun reloaded. I took my second shot, and the buck kept running. I had one more slug in the gun, and as the buck kept running, I slid the action of the gun, and took a third shot. I was most confidant with the third shot. I was sure that I hit the buck, but watched it round the corner towards the road that I walked in on. I could not believe it. I let the buck get away.
I was very frustrated, and then Mike and Joe began asking me if I hit him, and how I could miss. I could hardly believe that I missed the deer. After lamenting the missed deer, I began walking back to the area where I sat in the corn. ( I still had some stuff there) and noticed some blood on the plants on the ground. As I looked up, I noticed the very distinct bloodline that ran about 60 yards across the corn field, and around the corner. I ran to my stash of stuff, and reloaded the gun with another 2 rounds. (I was unsure weather or not I would find the deer dead or alive.) I picked up the blood trail again, and began following it. As the buck rounded the corner, he tried jumping the property line fence, and that is where I found him, on the other side of the property fence, about 10 feet from the fence. A 8 point buck. My first Deer. I felt tremendous. Joe and I sent Mike to get some rope and plastic for securing the deer to the roof of his van. Joe and I began field-dressing the deer. Neither of us had actually done this task first hand. For two rookies, we did not do too bad! The task past uneventful. Hardest part was the pelvic bone, not wanting to burst the bladder.
It must have been a comic site, watching us attempt to get this buck on top of Mike’s van. We started out with the deer tied up by the neck, and Mike on one side of the van, and Joe and I on the other. Mike had the rope, and Joe and I had the carcass. We got it as far as the head to the luggage rack, when the antlers became caught up in it. Mike and Joe switched sides, and we tried again. This time, Mike got the antlers uncaught and got it as far as the shoulders. Mike went over to help Joe pull on the rope, and I got a face full of warm, steaming, freshly killed, and still bloody deer carcass - while trying to get him up on top of the van. Several minutes later, successfully getting the deer on the van, we left the farm, and headed to McDonalds. What a site - to see the three of us (in blaze orange) bloody up the elbows walk into McDonalds and go straight for the bathrooms. What must have the patrons thought.
Deciding to go out again, we went to the State Land in East Chain, Mn. This is an L shaped property that we have had luck finding deer in the past. Joe walked in at an angle towards the wooded patch in the center area of the land, while Mike and I began walking along the property line edge. Not even paying full attention to what we were doing, a doe got up and ran away from us. We all fumbled to get a shot off, but by the time any one of us were ready (Joe could not get the safety off fast enough, and Mike (who was in front of me) could not get to a shooting stance fast enough.) The doe ran out of the state land, and off to some private property, not to be seen again.) Now (all at the ready) Mike continued down the road, and I stayed put. When Mike reached the end of the road where it turns left, I started through the weeds to meet him at an angle. We met up, and decided to do what we did in the past to scare out deer. We walked up to the wooded patch, and Mike stayed on the outside edge. I walked around it, and then entered the wooded area on the opposite side as Mike. I saw no evidence of deer. As I walked a small ridge in the wooded plot, I heard a very loud shot from where I thought Mike was. I ducked down, and waited. Moments later, a second shot rang out. Figuring that there were no deer in the area after hearing the shots ring out, I exited the wooded patch, and met Mike. I asked if he got one, and he affirmed the kill. Smaller doe, hit right across the spine. What appeared to be a small doe, proved to be quite a task, trying to get the carcass back to the truck.
Mike got to field dress this one, (as it was his, and he missed out field dressing the buck. We strapped it to the roof of the van, and went back to the hotel. Both deer were taken before noon.
Sunday morning we went out again. About the same temperature, but a fresh layer of snow. We found no sign of deer - no tracks, no bedding, nothing. The only thing I had seen this morning is a large deep scrape in a tree near the creek just off the roadway. the scrape was 2 scrapes about 6 feet up and down the tree, and about 1/2 to 3/4 inch deep.
We made it home, got the deer unloaded, and hung up in my garage. I skinned both deer myself, and Mike and Joe came over to butcher both deer Tuesday November 10th. It took between 3 and 4 hours, to process the deer. We each ended up with a grocery bag filled with venison. All things considered - a very successful weekend!