Duck and Grouse Hunting - 1998

Now, remember folks, this was written nine years ago, and my second attempt at keeping a hunting journal. I found this entry (along with Fishing Trip - 1998) in my first hand-written hunting book. I copied it word for word - as is. I made not grmamatical changes (even though there were a few I felt I should have made).

I still may have one or two more stories from that book to type up and post here on the blog.

Enjoy.
David.

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Duck and Grouse Hunting
October 7-9 1998

We again made the pilgrimage to Ed’s cabin for duck hunting. This year we made it for the opener. Ed, Dave G, and I were in attendance.

The first day, Dave and I set up on the north end of the lake, behind the island and in the reeds. We saw a few ducks, but were unsuccessful in our hunt. Ed set up near the beaver dam, and got a couple of ducks. On the way back to the cabin, Ed discovered a problem with his outboard motor. It was running too warm, and the exhaust was full of steam. When we got back to the cabin, we ate breakfast, and then Dave began disassembling the outboard. When we hit the point where we could not find the problem, we took the outboard into Garrison for repair.

We spent the rest of the day grouse hunting. We saw and heard one grouse. Dave and I were unsuccessful. We also spent a lot of time hunting state grounds in the area. It felt like we had walked over a hundred miles, but we came up empty. The colors were so brilliant that to even try to describe them would not do them justice.

On the second day, having only one motor, the three of us ended up at the beaver dam. We saw nothing but beavers. After an unsuccessful morning, we returned to the cabin for breakfast and back to garrison to pick up the outboard. Later that afternoon, we spent more time grouse hunting, seeing and hearing about the same number of birds. We still came home empty handed.

It was the third and final day of the trip that proved to be most successful for me. Again the three of us set up at the beaver dam. Dave and I were in the center and Ed on the far west end of the dam. Ed called in a drake wood duck, but it would not come close enough for any of us to get a good shot off. It just swam around the bay watching our decoys from afar. Then, just as quick as we noticed it, it just stopped squeaking and disappeared. A couple of ducks flew by, and I managed to get one shot off, but did not drop the bird. Late in the morning, a big black crow flew by. Dave squeezed a shot off. He must have hit the crow. All we saw was “flap, flap, drop”, “flap, flap, drop”, “flap, flap, drop”… As the crow (unusually slow) made it’s way back to the wooded area just west of where we were hunting - about tree top height. Best as I could tell, the bird dropped through the canopy of the trees - never to be seen again. When we finally went in, we went grouse hunting again. We sure heard a lot more grouse this year, compared to most years. After yet another unsuccessful grouse hunt, we returned to the cabin. Later that afternoon, Dave and I went to walk the Little Thompson Trail. On the way down the trail, we ran into a hunter and his dog. He had a grouse in his hunting pouch. Well, I figured that we would into be able to find any birds after he had flushed anything out of the area. Dave and I walked until I could barley walk anymore. We stopped at a clearing and rested for a few minutes. After resting, we turned and headed back. At this point we were heading back to begin packing up and I remember being depressed about returning empty handed. Another year went by without any game to bring home. About a third of the way back, and guy in a pickup truck drove up the trail and stopped to visit. He claimed to have seen a bird up near the end of the trail. I remembered thinking that this pickup truck driving up the road just scared off our last opportunity to get a grouse this year. Just about two-thirds way back down the trail, I spotted a grouse sitting on a branch about one foot off the ground. (About 30 feet from me). Right away I put a bead on the bird, and slowly started walking towards the bird. It took off and started flying back into the woods, then BANG! I don’t remember seeing the bird drop. Dave told me that I did drop the grouse, so I went into the woods. I located the bird. MY FIRST GROUSE! I was so happy, but at the same time I felt slightly bad. I know just how bad Dave had wanted a grouse also. We made to the end of the trail, and then headed back to the cabin.

When we got back, Ed was gone. I had figured that he had gone grouse hunting on the ridge on their land. Dave laid down, and I began packing things up. We did hear shots off in the distance. It was not too much longer when Ed came back. Ed had gotten three grey squirrels. Ed took Dave and I back into the woods, were I cleaned my first grouse, and John (Ed’s Dad) cleaned the other grouse and the three squirrels.

By the time Dave, Ed and I had our things packed up; John was ready to cook up the game. We sat down and had “snacks” for the road home. This was my first taste of squirrel, and the second time I have had grouse. I was very delicious! I would (without a doubt) eat both again (and I look forward to doing so.)

Fishing Trip - 1998

This was the first trip I had planned with the boat since dad had given it to me earlier in the spring. This was also Jonathan’s first fishing trip ever. I took the boat to Lake Fannie near Cambridge, Minnesota. Benjamin (10 years old) and Jonathan (2 years old) were also with me. Both boys were very excited as we began our adventure. The day was beautiful, the sun was shining and the temperature was not too hot and not too cold. I got the bat packed up and we began our journey.

About three-quarters of the way there, we must have driven through a cloud of pollen. I began a sneezing fit that could only be described as uncontrollable. I was unable to stop. I was desperate to locate a gas station or a store that may sell allergy medication. I did finally locate a store (in Cambridge). By this time, “misery” would not begin to describe how I was feeling. I ran into the store and was taking the medication before I even made it to the checkout counter. At this point, every second counted. I was in such misery that I forgot to pick up bait. As we drove to the public access, I remembered this “minor detail”, but thought we could do some trolling. I got the boat packed, and began backing the boat into the water. I got the kids loaded, the boat off the trailer, the car parked and myself into the boat with no difficulties.

I began pulling the starter cord for the outboard. (I had tested the motor just weeks before the trip and it started just fine.) The outboard just would not start. I pulled and pulled to no avail. I choked and un-choked the motor. Nothing seemed to work. We drifted out into a weed patch. Other boaters were starting to “watch” us. After several minutes of trying to get the motor started I finally got it running (by giving the gas tank an extra prime or two) and we were off! Another few minutes went by without any trouble. The outboard then began sputtering (still running but sputtering). A few minutes later the problem was resolved when the fast idle knob was adjusted. This problem continued throughout the day, every few minutes – another adjustment.

We found a spot that looked like it might hold some fish, and dropped anchor. Without bait the fishing was poor. We did not even get a nibble. I thought trolling might produce more action, so we started trolling along the shore (still plagued by the idle screw). Things went fine for a while. We made it to the end of the lake and began turning back. On the way back, I let out more line and after a few seconds discovered that I had let out all the line on the spool. I looked behind the boat, and saw the lure floating on the surface of the water (along with several “loops” of the fishing line arcing out of the water) between the boat and the lure. I turned the boat around and cautiously made my way back to the line. Just when I thought I made it close enough to row, but far enough to not get the line tangled up in the prop, the line quickly disappeared under the water. Knowing exactly what just happened, I killed the motor and pulled up the prop. Just as I had expected, much of the line was around the prop. I did the best I could to untangle the line – discovering that somewhere in the middle of the line, it had been broken. I opened up the reel, tied what I thought was the correct line on to the reel, and began winding. Murphy’s Law would dictate that I did indeed have the wrong line (which I did). I detached the first line and retied the other line onto the reel. It was at that point that I realized that I did not feed the line thru the face of the reel, so I had to redo the whole process. When all was said and done, I had about twenty five percent of the line I had started with. Up to this point the boys were doing a fantastic job. Jonathan began falling asleep while sitting up. In his lifejacket, he looked like an underdeveloped turtle. As he fell asleep, his head began disappearing into his lifejacket, and because it was just big enough, the jacket held up his sleeping headless body. I had had enough. I decided to call it a day, and began heading back to the public access. I wanted to burn as much of the gas as possible so I began making large circles at full speed near the public access. The motor began bogging down ant this point. (Bad Gas – to the best of my determination.) We made it back to the public access alive, and unloaded the boat (uneventful).

On my way home, somewhere in Blaine, Mn. The car began to overheat and stall. We first stopped at a “Super America” along highway 65. I called Michele to let her know what was going on, and to let the car cool down. Thirty minutes later we were on the road again. This lasted until the car started stalling again somewhere on Interstate 35 near St. Paul. I just barley made it off the freeway when the car stalled again. The boys and I pulled over in a residential neighborhood and let the car cool for an additional 30 minutes. This seemed enough, so I started out again. I made it around the block before the car started stalling, so we stopped for another 30 minutes. By this time the car had cooled enough for me to get back on the freeway and (going very carefully) we made it to the 46 th St. exit off 35W in Minneapolis. The car once again started stalling, so I got off the freeway and pulled into a residential area – letting the car cool for yet another 30 minutes. After starting out again, I figured my best bet at this point was the side streets all the way home. I took Nicollet Ave South until I got to a stoplight on a steep incline, and (of course) the light turned red. The car stalled. I managed to nurse the car into a parking lot of a school, were we sat for another 30 minute cool-down. When I got brave enough to start out again, I stayed off Nicollet and took the side streets. We made it to about 62 nd St. when the car called one last time. One last 30 minute cool-down period, and we started out towards home again. We were able to make it from 62 nd and Nicollet to home without any further stalling of the car. Once I arrived home, I had an extra fifteen minutes before having to leave for work.

What an experience. I don’t know if I would change a thing. Both Benjamin and Jonathan were fantastic, and made this “terrible” trip “bearable”. It was fun watching Benjamin try to figure out what was wrong with the car, and Jonathan not sure what was going on, but trusting me enough to just go along with everything.

What a memory!

Deer Hunting 1998

Deer Hunting 1998 - November 6 - November 8, 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!