Rhode Island Red Chicks Move Outside (Blog 350)

It was moving day on Monday for our heritage Rhode Island Red chicks. The mother, Mary, and her three chicks moved to their new henhouse outside after spending their "youth" in a pen in the basement.  Long ago, I had named the young cockerel Don, Jr. after his father Don who resides in the adjacent run with his six hens.

Elaine finally decided what to name the two pullets, she is going with Thelma and Louise. Thelma is the more agressive of the two and is quite willing to square off with Don, Jr. Louise, meanwhile, is more timid and quite content to be off by herself when Don, Jr. and Thelma start squabbling. I imagine Thelma's days of fighting with her sibling will end in another month or two, as soon Junior's inevitable growth spurt will begin, and he will be much bigger than she is.

Here's a picture of their first day in their new home.

Stop Mowing Your Front Yard (Blog 349)

Where are these beautiful purple coneflowers in the picture below growing? Perhaps in a field or meadow somewhere?

Actually, they are growing in our front yard. A number of years ago, I decided to stop mowing  a small section of our front yard and "just let it go." The result has been a profusion of growth of wild plants whose seeds were present in the seed bank: purple coneflowers, daisy fleabane, Virginia creeper, ragweed, black-eyed susans, and many others.

My "overgrown yard" patch may look seedy to some, but I think it is beautiful and far better for the environment than those closely cropped fescue deserts presented as the norm.

Summer Locavore Meals (Blog 348)

One of the many great things about summer are all the great, simple locavore meals. The other day for lunch, Elaine and I had venison burgers (from a deer I had killed) with Cherokee purple tomatoes and onions from our garden.  Dessert was blackberry cobbler from blackberries that I had picked behind our house.

Tonight for dinner, the menu is eggs frittata (eggs courtesy of our Rhode Island Red hens) and blueberry cobbler.  The blueberries come from our land on Potts Mountain. These are true feasts that mean summer to us.

Our Heritage Rhode Island Reds (Blog 347)

Right now, Elaine and I have three groups of heritage Rhode Island Red chickens.  What we call the "Old Reds" are our Rooster Don and his three hens that are a little over two years old, the "Young Reds that are 16 months old with Al and his three hens, and the "Baby Reds" which live in the basement and consist of the hen Mary and her three chicks that are about a month old.

Soon, it will be time to move Mary and her little flock outside to one of the runs.  However, we have heard that older chickens will sometimes kill the chicks of other hens.  Mary used to be part of Al's flock, but she has been gone for a month, of course, and will not be greeted warmly, nor likely will her chicks.

We truly do not know what to do, but Mary and her chicks will soon be too big to stay in the basement enclosure, and they obviously need more outside time than what they have been receiving.  We will have to come up with an idea soon.

Surf and Turf: Mountain Style (Blog 346)

Today for lunch, Elaine and I had a locavore lunch of Surf and Turf, mountain style.  Our two entrees were venison burgers from a deer I had killed last year and rainbow trout, from fish that friend John Loope caught on our trip to the Smith River the day before.  Modesty compels me to admit that I had seven bites but failed to catch any of them, but that's another story for another day.

The locavore theme was made better by the fact that also on the menu were green beans from our daughter Sarah's garden. Tonight for dinner, our centerpiece will be wineberry cobbler, again from berries picked near our house.  So far we have gathered a little over five gallons of wild berries this summer, and the blackberries, the main focus of our picking, have not started to come in to any degree yet.

Wild Raspberries Ripe in the Blue Ridge Mountains (Blog 345)

Elaine and I took off in the pick-up early this morning to our Potts Mountain land on the Virginia/West Virginia line. Our main mission was to gather wild black raspberries, which we did with a satisfying tally of seven quarts.

But just as enriching was our time in the mountains together, talking about life, grandchildren, interesting songbirds, and, of course, raspberries. We're having raspberry pie on Sunday, the rest we froze for the winter. Earlier this week, two quarts of raspberries were made into jam. It was a very good day together and a very good week picking raspberries with a total of  3 1/4 gallons.

Chicks Day Out (Blog 344)

Today, Elaine's and my heritage Rhode Island Red chicks are 12 days old, so we thought it was time to let them and their mother, Mary, outside from their basement enclosure for the first time.  Predictably, Mary was very agitated when I picked her up - and thus caused her to be away from her chicks for the first time - while Elaine gathered the chicks and put them into a brown box.

Soon, though, everyone was outside in the front yard, and the chicks were exposed to clover and other vegetation for the first time. Mary diligently showed them that clover is something good to eat and that fescue is not.

After about 20 minutes outside, it was time to return to the basement. After Elaine put the three chicks into the box, I noted that the chick I think is a cockerel, I've named him Don, Jr., after his father, was standing while the two chicks I believe are pullets had already settled down for the ride indoors.  As the weeks go by, it will be interesting to see if my guesses are right.

Rhode Island Red Chicks Arrive (Blog 343)

Elaine and I thrilled to announce that one of our heritage Rhode Island Red hens, Mary, has hatched out three chicks, doing so on Tuesday and Wednesday of this week. Mother and offspring are doing well, and are living in our basement in a pen.

We learned from talking with other chicken rearers that Mary's fellow hens would likely kill her chicks, so we moved the hen and eggs into our basement on Sunday.  That proved to be a no time to spare relocation, as the eggs started hatching on Tuesday morning.

Unfortunately, Mary abandoned her six other eggs as she seemed consumed with rearing the three that had hatched.

Locavore Presentation This Weekend (Blog 342)

At our Botetourt County, Virginia home this Saturday, June 3 from 9 to noon, Elaine and I will give a presentation on how to be locavores.  We, as well, will talk about our solar panels, garden, chickens, wildlife habitat management, serve lunch, give a tour, and have copies of our  book Living the Locavore Lifestyle given out as part of the $20.00 cost to attend.  Here is the link to our event, which is a fundraiser for the Blue Ridge Land Conservancy.
http://www.blueridgelandconservancy.org/outdoor-adventures.html

Milk Snake, Not a Copperhead (Blog 341)

Last week, I wrote about seeing a copperhead near the stoop of our Botetourt County, Virginia home.  But as I told Elaine, I was not quite sure that my identification was correct.  Today, as soon as I came home from the last day of school for Botetourt County, I saw the snake once again near our stoop.

Elaine earlier in the week had bought me "snake tongs" so that I could pick up any snake for examination or photos.  So I quickly retrieved the tongs and used them to hoist up the snake. Immediately, I was able to see that the creature had a rounded head and round eyes, not at all like the head and eyes of a venomous snake like a copperhead.

Nevertheless, Elaine wanted the milk snake far away from her stoop, so I took the milk snake some 75 yards away from the house and released it unharmed.

"Birds, Snakes, and Skinks in and around Our Virginia Home (Blog 340)

There are things that seem to happen during the late spring every year at our Botetourt County, Virginia home.  A few days ago, the first copperhead of the season lay sunning next to our front stoop.  A few days later, a black rat snake visited our sundeck, perhaps lured by phoebes that had been nesting under our eaves.

When I went outside to take pictures of the rat snake, the young phoebes exploded from the nest. Had they randomly picked that moment to leave forever their first home, or had I, or the black rat snake, accelerated their desire to depart? It is one of the mysteries of nature, no doubt.

A few days later, the skinks started sunning themselves on the front stoop, and Elaine began warning me that they were not to come into the house - as is their habit several times each spring and summer. I am not quite sure how to keep a skink out of a house, as these lizards invariable make their way inside every year.

The natural world is often just outside our front and back doors if we will take the time to look.

Virginia Gobblers Remain Silent (Blog 339)

Although I have tagged out on Virginia turkeys for the season, I still am going to listen for birds behind our house every morning.  I have not heard any toms all week whereas previous weeks I heard as many as four.

Of course, some of those toms may have been killed on the adjacent farms and the rainy, cold weather probably has something to do with the lack of gobbling.  More rain is forecast for the next three days, and I would not be optimistic about hearing any gobblers during that type of weather.

Here's my prediction. I believe the weather will change next week, and there will be intense gobbling from multiple toms next week in many places including our woodlot and around Virginia and West Virginia.  Of course, the seasons will be over in both states, but such is life and the vagaries of the spring some years.

The Most Beautiful Bird in the Spring Gobbler Woods (Blog 338)

Last Friday, while turkey hunting in West Virginia, I heard my first scarlet tanager of the year.  Stopping hunting for a while, I tried to spot the bright red body and black wings of this typical late arriving migratory bird.  But I could not, so I continued on my way.

Sunday while hosting friend Doak Harbison and my son Mark on my family's Sinking Creek land in Craig County, a scarlet tanager suddenly flew down from its typical tree tops habitat and lit on a branch at eye level.  Doak and Mark had never seen a tanager before and wanted to know what it was.  The scarlet tanager definitely has the ability to dazzle.

Birding Great, Turkey Hunting Poor on West Virginia Hunts (Blog 337)

I've spent the last two mornings chasing gobblers in Monroe County, West Virginia.  Friday, I didn't see or hear any birds and on Saturday, I heard only two toms and both were well off the property and quickly stopped gobbling.

However, one of the great things about being outdoors in the spring is listening to and observing songbirds.  I heard my first scarlet tanager, hooded warbler, ovenbird, and rose-breasted grosbeak of the year.  And I watched for quite a while a black-and-white-warbler hitching around a tree and looking for insects. I'll try again in a few days.

Success in the Virginia Spring Gobbler Woods (Blog 336)

After hunting Virginia's spring gobblers for ten straight days during the time I was on break from school, I was a little frustrated about my inability to call in and kill a time.  I had spent five of those days on Elaine's and my land in the Sinking Creek Valley of Craig County, last Monday making the fifth visit.

As I was leaving the property for the day and walking down the mountain, I decided to yelp one last time, and sometimes that last yelp can be a big deal.  For a gobbler answered about 300 yards away. I set up quickly and for the next 75 minutes, the tom answered sporadically.

Then, suddenly or not so suddenly, given the nature of turkeys, he was standing 40 yards from me, peering down the mountain toward me.  I gave him a few more coaxing calls when he seemed unsure of whether to walk toward me - then in he came. He was a typical two-year-old tom with 4/5-inch spurs and the standard nine-inch beard. Gone was the frustration from the previous days.  I'll concentrate now on tagging a West Virginia tom.

Racket in the Virginia Spring Gobbler Woods (Blog 335)

This morning while pursuing gobblers in Craig County, Virginia, I debarked from my car about an hour before sunrise.  After walking up the mountain for about 10 minutes, I made a barred owl call and, by my count, I heard six different coyotes yipping.

That caused, by my count, four barred owls to start calling which resulted in, by my count, seven different gobblers sounding off.  It was the most racket I have ever heard while spring gobbler hunting and it was still well before sunrise.

The gobblers and owls kept hammering at each other for another 30 minutes.  But by 7:00 or so, the woods was quiet and stayed that way, except for a few gobbles, the rest of the morning.

I have been out seven straight mornings in Virginia and have heard gobblers every morning but have yet to see one.  On my annual Tennessee hunt the first weekend in April, I only saw one gobbler in three days.  Fortunately, I killed him, but my tally of seeing just one tom in ten days is more than frustrating.

Best Birthday Present Ever: Carolina Wins National Championship (Blog 334)

This week I turned the momentous age of 65, but what I always will remember about this week was University of North Carolina winning the national championship for the sixth time and for the fifth time since I have been a fan.

I started rooting for UNC in 1966 when my sister Janice and I decided to pick a college basketball team as our favorite and have remained a hardcore fan ever since.  When I was growing up, Dean Smith was a role model for me and has remained so during my career as a teacher.  Coach Smith's precepts on how to treat people, an emphasis on working hard and playing by the rules, and always being on time and trying your best have always meant a great deal to me.

So when UNC went on an 8-0 run to win the NCAA championship Monday night, I told Elaine what I wanted for my birthday - a book covering the 2016-7 season - hopefully there will be one.

Signs of Spring -Bear Wrecks Compost Bin (Blog 333)

Signs of spring are all around Elaine's and my Botetourt County, Virginia home.  A winter visitor, a hermit thrush, is singing his mating song, a mockingbird is in full throat, and the mourning doves are already mating.

But a sure sign of spring is our local bears coming out of hibernation.  Yesterday, we were greeted with the sight of a bruin wrecking our compost bin, emptying the contents and pushing/shoving the bin about 10 yards into the woods.

We won't use the compost bin again until December when winter sets in.  Then make sure that its contents are spread earlier next March.

Two Weeks before Virginia's Spring Gobbler Opener (Blog 332)

The two weeks  before Virginia's spring gobbler season begins, I think, is when a season is made.  This is the time when scouting takes place, and I check out farms and national forest land where gobblers may be.

The first week is all about finding the gobblers, the second about determining which ones are more likely to respond to calling.  Tomorrow, Saturday, I'll visit the first place on my list, some property in northern Botetourt County.  I also have scheduled visits to Craig and Franklin counties in the coming days.  By the opener, I should have a good idea where my chances for success are highest.

Gobbling on a Snowy, Virginia Morning (Blog 331)

Tuesday morning here in Botetourt County, Virginia, I didn't have school as some snow fell, the winds were gusty, and the temperature plummeted into the single digits.  Yet, as I did my morning chores of taking care of our chickens, I heard a gobbler sound off in the midst of the snow, wind, and frigid temperatures.

Why would a tom be gobbling in absolutely terrible conditions?  On our land, I've heard gobblers gobbling during summertime afternoons, wintertime cold fronts, and rainy fall days. Turkeys never cease to amaze me concerning why they do what they do.

I've also not heard gobblers gobbling during absolutely glorious spring mornings when all the conditions were perfect and even when the hens were raising a ruckus on the roost.  It is simply a mystery.

Emerald Ash Borer and Ash Trees (Blog 330)

It's a cold March Saturday here in Botetourt County, Virginia, and I am preparing to go outside and cut down ash trees.  In the current issue of the QDMA magazine, Quality Whitetails, I have a story on how the emerald ash borer has devastated the ash trees in this country and such is certainly the case on our 38 acres.

Almost every ash on our land is sick, dying, or already dead, and I suspect the few that are not have the EAB inside them, just waiting for warmer weather to do their deadly work.  Most of our ashes live in our creek bottom, but there are a fair number in our hardwood hollow and one recently cut one was in our backyard.

It is a small comfort that the ashes will be firewood for years to come, but it is a tragedy that they will all soon  be dead.

Early Spring Wildlife Habitat Projects (Blog 336)

After being sick the past two weekends, I was finally able to start my spring wildlife habitat improvement projects on our 38-acres in Botetourt County, Virginia.  I started off the weekend Friday after school by spraying multi-flora rose and cutting and splitting wood.

Then Saturday, I sprayed more invasive species and planted clover in the upper food plot. Topping things off was a great meal, courtesy of Elaine, of deer burgers, baked potatoes, and blackberry cobbler.

  On the agenda for Sunday is to plant Yukon Gold potatoes and cut more wood.  I may be able to do some Timber Stand Improvement projects, too.

First Gobbling of the Virginia Spring (Blog 335)

Thursday morning, I heard my first gobble of the spring while I was tending to the chickens.  The week before, I had witnessed the return of the male woodcocks and their mating dances, so I knew the tom turkeys would be expressing their virility soon.

What does it all mean? Well, to the male turkeys and woodcocks, I supposed their vocal outbursts mean the world.  To the females they are trying to impress, I would guess it means very little.  But that will all change in short order. In a few weeks, the ardor of the males will be matched, to a  degree, by that of the females.

Edith and Mary Square Off (Blog 334)

With our heritage Rhode Island Red chickens, Elaine's task is to name the hens.  With our flock, she decided to have a Downton Abbey theme naming our hens Mary, Violet, Edith and Daisy.  In a case of the chicken yard imitating life, Mary lately has been picking on Edith, running her away from the feeder and waterer.

I can understand that as chickens have a pecking order that must be settled among themselves.  But Mary has taken to running Edith out of the hen house at night when the hens and their rooster Al are trying to fly up to the roost.  This is unacceptable as Elaine and I have to wait long minutes in the dark for Mary to stop the bullying.

Tonight, I became weary of Mary running Edith out.  So I picked up Mary, put her in the yard, put Edith in the hen house, and then removed the gangplank running to the house.

Now it was Mary's turn to panic as she was on the outside wanting in.  She was unable to fly up to the door. I let Edith become settled inside then I put Mary inside.  Hopefully, I will only have to do this a few more times before the nightly nonsense stops.

Persimmon Bread on a February Saturday Night (Blog 333)

Back in the fall, Elaine and I gathered persimmons one cold afternoon.  Elaine made cookies and bread from our haul, and we ate the cookies over the next few days or so.  But the persimmon bread we froze for a winter weekend.

There is a joy in life based around anticipation of eating good things one day in the future. So we picked this weekend to reheat the bread and enjoy the especial nature of persimmon bread - a very dark bread with the sweet taste of persimmons and the nuttiness of walnuts proving a tasty tandem. It was a very fitting dessert for dinner, but I also confess that I had some for breakfast, too.

Planning a Winter Saturday (Blog 332)

With Virginia's turkey season now over, it's time to move on to other Saturday wintertime pursuits. Tomorrow I plan to spend much of the daylight period in the hollow behind my house. I need to cut up a massive chestnut oak limb that fell, a black oak tree that was cut down, plus turn a downed black locust into firewood.

After I finish work with the chainsaw, the mall will be required to reduce the wood into servicable firewood-sized chunks. If the weather turns warm in the afternoon, I might want to still hunt for squirrels through the woodlot.

As I write this, Elaine is making venison soup and perhaps I can prevail upon her to bake a wild blackberry pie to go with it.  An evening spent with her by the woodstove and dining on this type of food would be an evening well spent.

Success in the Virginia Turkey Woods (Blog 331)

I decided to go turkey hunting after school today, as Virginia's winter season ends this Saturday, and I still had an unpunched tag.  Honestly, with the hatch being less than stellar and with an abundance of acorns, I was not expecting to be successful.  Most of my hunts this fall/winter have resulted in my not seeing any turkeys.

But lo and behold, I emitted some hoarse kee-kee runs and a flock of longbeards ambled in.  His picture is below.

Rhode Island Reds Sick, but now Recovering (Blog 330)

Several weeks ago, I wrote that our young flock of Rhode Island Reds were staying inside during the recent snowstorm.  At first, Elaine and I thought they were just scared of their first snow, and perhaps they were, but developments now make us thing something else was in play.

When the harsh weather was still going on, we looked into the coop one day and saw a hen whose eye was swollen shut.  She was also very lethargic and continued to grow weaker.  Eventually, we had to put her down.

Then our cockerel Al began to have trouble walking as did one of the hens.  We eventually had to purchase an anti-inflamatory from a vet to help rejuvenate them.  Both Al and the hen are doing much better now, and we hope they can rejoin the flock next week.

The next time we have a bitterly cold spell, we are going to monitor the hen house more closely.

No Luck with Virginia's Winter Turkeys, but the Birdwatching was Great (Blog 329)

Today, Virginia's winter turkey season began, and I heard a flock on the roost behind my house at dawn.  I was only about 75 yards from their roost site which was on a creek ridge.  Knowing that if I tried to scatter the flock, the birds would simply fly across the creek onto a neighbor's land, I decided to sit tight.

Unfortunately, after fly down, I heard nothing and thinking the birds had moved downstream, as is their usual habitat, I decided to loop around them and see if I could position myself in the direction that the flock was travelling. When I arose to do so, several seconds later I ran right into the flock, which then flew across the creek.  If I had chosen to sit still, would the birds have walked right to me?  Who knows with turkeys.

While trying to call the flock back across the creek, which, predictably ended in failure, I saw several interesting songbirds: brown creepers and golden-crowned kinglets.  They were in one of those winter mixed flocks that also included Carolina chickadees, downy woodpeckers, and white-breasted nuthatches.

Rhode Island Reds in the Snow (Blog 328)

Five inches of snow fell here in Botetourt County, Virginia today.  We have two flocks of heritage Rhode Island Reds, and they live in adjacent runs.  The flock we call the "Old Reds" are a year-and-a-half old and, today, seemed to remember snow from last winter.

They stayed in their hen house until it was warmer in mid-morning, and then everybody ventured out to eat snow in order to consume their water.  Elaine had placed a heated waterer in the corner of the run, but, as was true last year, this flock did not walk through the snow to reach the waterer. In short, the older flock was not intimidated by the weather.

Meanwhile, the "Young Reds," which were born in early March, experienced their first snow and were too scared to leave their hen house all morning.  I brought them some food and water, both of which they eagerly consumed, but then Elaine and I decided that our young charges needed to lose their fear of snow.  We gathered up each member of the flock, including Al our cockerel and leader of his flock, and placed each one outside in the snow.  Without exception, each young bird crumpled in fear when they were placed in the snow and seemed terrified.

But after a few seconds, each of the Reds decided to move about and went to their feeder and waterer.  We are hoping that on Sunday, the birds remember their newfound courage to take on snow.

Emerald Ash Borer Arrives (Blog 327

On Elaine's and my 38 acres in Botetourt County, Virginia, the emerald ash borer has arrived with a vengenance. My son-in-law David first pointed out the fact several weeks ago, and now I have made a survey of our land, and most of the ashes are dead or dying.

I have cut one of the dying ones down for firewood and marked several others for removal.  David has also noted several that he will cut down for firewood, as David and his family also live on this land.

Invasive species are a threat to wildlife and wildlife habitat.  And that has become apparent once again on my little postage stamp of land.

The HighPoint of My Christmas: Going Walking with My Grandson Sam (Blog 326)

Christmas was very enjoyable this weekend.  Elaine and I had dinner at Sarah and David's house on Saturday evening with David's parents and our son Mark and his girlfriend Ashley.  And Sunday, we had Sarah and David over with their boys Sam and Eli, plus Mark came, too to open presents and eat brunch.

All of that was nice, but the highpoint for me was my grandson Sam wanting to go walking with me.  He could have stayed inside to play with his presents, but when I told everyone that I was going to walk up the road a little bit, Sam announced that he wanted to come, too.

It was a small thing, but to me it was really special.

Befuddled by Virginia's Fall Turkeys Again (Post 325)

The next time I hear someone saying that they don't hunt fall turkeys because they're too easy and/or they are saving their tags for the spring season, I may give them a lecture on the spot.  I have pursued autumn birds after school this week and this morning (Saturday) without hearing or seeing any.  The  cold weather, the poor hatch last spring, the heavy mast crop, and the supreme difficulty of going after mature gobblers or hens in the fall have combined to befuddle me.

I suppose I could try again somewhere this afternoon.  Instead, I've decided to go climb a tree and try to kill a doe with my Parker Thunderhawk crossbow.  It's going to be a warm, relatively speaking, evening so perhaps the deer will be moving.

Chasing Turkeys in the Cold (Blog 324)

I spent a glorious cold, December morning trying to call in three mature gobblers today.  I had gone to the top of a Botetourt County, Virginia mountain in an attempt to find a flock, but only encountered the trio of toms when I came back down the mountain.  Ironically, the lead gobbler was not far from where my car was parked.

The lead tom scudded into the woods and the other two went in a different direction.  But a short time later, the lead turkey began yelping and the other two birds began gobbling.  I promptly sat down in between them and engaged in some serious male talk.  But in the end, the lead tom circled around me and rejoined his small flock and they went off again - who knows where.  I'm going to try to find them again this afternoon, but am not optimistic.

I relish pursuing winter turkeys, though my success rate is poor when I'm after mature gobblers and hens.

Rhode Island Red Chickens Working Hard in Garden (Blog 323)

Friday and Saturday, Elaine and I let our two flocks of heritage Rhode Island Reds take turns working in the garden.  Actually, work is not the right word for our chickens, but what they accomplish for us is.  The Reds truly enjoy their time in the garden, turning over soil, scratching up insects and their larva, and depositing their poop throughout.

For us, we have a free hoeing and insecticide service, plus fertilizing on delivery.  It's a win-win for the chickens and us.  Our chickens will continue performing their yeoman work until February, when it will be time to let their waste fully decompose and us plan for the April planting of onions and spinach.

Enjoying Wild Game and Fruits for the Holidays (Blog 322)

A Thanksgiving and Christmas meal tradition at our house is to have family members over and enjoy various wild game and fruit dishes. Elaine and I have had David and Sarah and their sons Sam and Eli and  also Mark and Ashley over several times during the Thanksgiving Holidays.  We've had venison meatball soup, roast venison, and today Elaine is going to make wild turkey breast burgers. We will use eggs from our Rhode Island Reds to enhance the flavor of the burger.

For dessert, we've enjoyed blackberry cobbler, and I hope today to make one last trip to a persimmon tree to gather its fruits.  Elaine has already made persimmon bread, but I would like some persimmon cookies this weekend.

There's plenty of potentially great food in the outdoors.  All it takes is a willingness to pursue it.

Success on Virginia's Opening Day of General Firearms Season (Blog 321)

This morning, for opening day of what many Virginia hunters call "rifle season," I drove to one of Elaine's and my properties in Craig County.  The goal was simple, try to kill a doe before the fierce winds in the forecast drove me off the mountain.

Fortunately, that was what happened.  Not long after dawn, a doe came by (at various times between 60 and 80 yards away), but did not offer a good shot.  But at just after 7:30 two more does came by.  When I first saw them they were over 100 yards away.  But they kept meandering along, and the potential shot became easier and easier.  Finally at 60 yards distant, the lead doe paused, and the shot rang true.  The drag was hard and took awhile, but I wasn't complaining.

Instead of being on a stand this evening, Elaine and I are preparing to play a rousing game of Scrabble; meanwhile the wind is howling. Perhaps I should start our wood stove in the morning for the first time this season.

No Turkeys, but Persimmon Bread Instead (Blog 320)

Tuesday was election day, of course, so I didn't have to be at school until noon.  So I did what I usually do on that day, go hunting.  I spent the early morning in Franklin County, Virginia pursuing turkeys and the mid-morning in Botetourt doing the same...all to no avail.

But upon leaving the Botetourt farm, I visited a persimmon tree that has produced a cornucopia of fruits in the past.  And the tree was loaded with persimmons.  I gathered a bag full and the next night, Elaine and I made persimmon bread.

Few things in life are as tasty as persimmon bread.  Indeed, it is my favorite homemade bread and that includes breads made from wild and domesticated fruits.  I am going to pay another visit to the tree soon, as there are plenty of persimmons left.

Locavore Living (Blog 319)

Last week was a very good week for hunting and Elaine and me and our locavore lifestyle here in Botetourt County, Virginia.  On Thursday, I was able to kill my first turkey of the season, tagging a bird at fly down after roosting a flock the evening before. Wild turkey will now be on the menu for Thanksgiving.

Saturday on opening day of the early muzzleloading season, I killed a nice doe in Franklin County right before sundown.  I had found a place on a cattle farm where deer were likely to enter a pasture.

Our young Rhode Island Red hens are consistently laying eggs and our older Reds have already molted and are now laying, so the egg production is excellent.  And Sunday, now that leaves are falling, Elaine and I noticed that our Dolgo crabapple tree had enough fruits on it (a late frost had killed most of the blooms) to make a loaf of bread from.  Not a major event to be sure, given the tree's major production  last year, but one loaf of Elaine's homemade crabapple and walnut bread will be a delight this winter on a snowy day.

Opening Day of Virginia's Turkey Season (Blog 318)

As much as I enjoy deer hunting, nothing is more pleasurable for me to do in the fall than to pursue turkeys.  So when opening day began yesterday, I was on a Botetourt County mountain.  I heard birds on the roost and began an arduous climb to them.  Periodically they called back, but the terrain was so steep and the woods so dry, I had to take my time reaching the flock.

When I finally did make visual contact, I saw that there were four of them and they were 75 yards above me near the crest.  From the sounds/tones of their voices, they were old hens without their offpspring - more evidence, as shown from biologists' reports, that the hatch has been failure.

I called to the birds as they looped around the side of the mountaintop.  One paused briefly stared down below, then continued with the quartet.  I knew then that I was doomed to catch up with them and several more hours passed as I tried to relocate the flock - to no avail.

I then went to another farm that has always had birds in the past, but this year it does not.  I will try again at a different farm this morning.

Virginia Bears Are Abundant (Blog 317)

Next month, I have a story coming out in Virginia Game & Fish on bear hunting in the state.  One of the topics I cover is the state's burgeoning bear population, and yesterday I saw yet another example of that.

Friend Doak Harbison and I drove to a Botetourt County farm to bow hunt for deer after leaving our teaching jobs at Lord Botetourt High School. When we reached the gate where we would go our separate ways, Doak and I simultaneously spotted a bear near my tree stand.

The creature stood and watched me as I approached it, and, since I wanted to climb into my tree stand for the evening, I had to scare the bear away from my position.  This I did by clapping my hands and yelling at it.  After two attempts by yours truly, I finally convinced the bruin to depart.

Son-in-law David Reynolds and I have discussed trying to kill a bear on the Botetourt County land where our respective families live.  Given the large bear population, I wouldn't be surprised if at least one of us tags one this year.

Hunting Fall Turkeys in West Virginia's Mountains (Blog 316)

Come autumn, my favorite thing to do is pursue turkeys, so I was extremely disappointed when the heavy rains kept me from going afield opening day of West Virginia's season. But with the precipitation at an end, I was able to go afield the following week on a mountain in Monroe County just outside of the community of Pickaway.

I had heard the hatch was largely a failure not only in West Virginia but also in Virginia, and such certainly seemed the case on that Monroe mountaintop as I neither heard or saw turkeys or even found any sign.

Fortunately, I had had the foresight to put my crossbow in my vehicle, so I headed for my land in Gap Mills to deer hunt after striking out on turkeys.  Just 30 minutes after climbing into my ladder stand, I killed a deer, which was certainly a nice ending to the day.  But I surely wish I had had a turkey to take home.

Black-throated Blue Warbler while Bowhunting for Deer (Blog 315)

While bowhunting behind Elaine's and my Botetourt County, Virginia house Thursday after school, I saw a beautiful songbird, a black-throated blue warbler, migrating through our woodlot.

The warbler, on its way to the Carribean or perhaps Central America, flitted about for over five minutes, going from tree to tree searching for food.  Interestingly, there were two of the warblers, perhaps a mating pair that were on their migration together.

I didn't see a single deer that evening, but the warbler sighting made the outing worthwhile.

Opening Day of Virginia's Bow Season (Blog 314)

Last Saturday, I blew an opportunity at a nice doe on opening day of West Virginia's bow season, as I moved into position to shoot at the wrong time.  It was one of those times that a whitetail "appeared out of nowhere" it seemed. This morning on opening day of Virginia's season, I watched a deer slowly approach me for some 15 minutes.

So I had plenty of time to position myself and release a good shot.  I cut out the bottom loins for a future meal as well as the heart.  Larry Proffitt, Elaine's and my friend whose family runs the famous Ridgewood Restaurant in East Tennessee gave us some of their Ridgewood Bar-B-Que Sauce back in the spring when I hunted with him.

Elaine is going to barbecue the heart with Larry's sauce, and we look forward to trying it out.

Opening Day of West Virginia's Bow Season (Blog 313)

Opening day of West Virginia's bow season did not go well for me as I spent the morning hours without seeing a deer, and the evening ones without having any close enough to shoot with a bow.
But some days are like that.

By far the most interesting thing that happened was my watching a raccoon Saturday morning.  The animal came down the Monroe County mountain where I was hunting and walked right toward my stand.  When he reached a log where I had placed my bow in preparation for using a haul rope to lift it into my stand, the raccoon stopped, took a long sniff then turned and scudded quickly back up the mountain.

Just that little whiff of human scent was enough to send the raccoon on its way...absolutely fascinating.

The Perfect Wife (Blog 312)

Wednesday afternoon, a landowner on whose property I hunted on contacted me and told me that the deer were streaming onto her property the past few evenings and that I ought to come over and bowhunt. The day before, Elaine and I had gathered wild summer grapes, and I had planned to help her remove the grapes from the stems Wednesday after I finished teaching school for the day.

But the temptation of bowhunting for deer consumed me, so as soon I arrived home I took off to a treestand.  Earlier I had told Elaine that I "might" go deer hunting but that I probably wouldn't.

The landowner's description of the deer movement was accurate and about 45 minutes after I climbed into my stand, I arrowed a whitetail.  The blood trail was short, and soon I was on the way home where I found that Elaine had already done the grape work, and now I was presenting her with another task... our butchering a deer.

We have our butchering routine fairly well set.  Basically, I quarter the animal while upstairs, Elaine does the "fine" work and wraps the bottom and top loins to freeze and cleans the heart and tongue to freeze. The four quarters are put on ice for us to labor on the next day as Elaine feels that that meat works up better after it is chilled.

Through all the butchering Wednesday evening, Elaine never complained even though she had already worked quite long

on the grapes, which today she will turn into jelly... when she has finished working on the quarters.

Yet another reason why Elaine is the perfect wife. The picture above shows her during our summer grape foray.

Coyotes in Suburbia (Blog 311)

Friday evening after school, I went bowhunting in a Virginia neighborhood.  While aloft around 6:35, I saw something trotting south to north and noted it was a coyote. When the animal was just 12 yards distant and running horizontally to my position, I made some doe bleats in hope that I could stop the coyote and attempt a shot.

But, fascinatingly, the coyote never broke stride, looked directly at me high in a tree, then swapped ends and began running in the opposite direction.  It is no wonder that these predators are so difficult to hunt.  This animal zeroed in on the source of the sound, instantaenously realized that it was fake, and simply ran away.

A very impressive performance by a wild animal, indeed.

(Week Four of Bowhunting with Kill Permits (Blog 310)

Weekend four of bowhunting with kill permits had the rare occurrence of the deer doing the same thing on Saturday morning as they did on Monday morning, Labor Day.  Both times deer milled about under my stand in the dark then left before shooting light.  Another group of deer, both mornings, fed to within about 50 or so yards of my stand, then walked the other way.

These maddening circumstances have made me decide to hunt next Saturday from a ground blind.  For some reason, the deer are feeding for about a half hour in a little patch of grass under some pines and two mockernut hickories.  After climbing down from my stand this morning, I checked to see what they are eating and simply can not figure it out.  No oaks are nearby, no clover is in the grassy patch, no important forbs that I can  find.

But the deer are  very fond of that spot.  I will have my blind set up there next Saturday.

Week Three of Bow Hunting with Kill Permits (Blog 309)

Weekend Three of my August bow hunting with kill permits proved to be another challenging Saturday. The first deer showed up not long after sunrise, materializing directly behind me about 20 minutes after shooting light began.

The deer was broadside and standing still, but it also sported a tiny pair of antlers, which made him off limits as I am only pursuing does.  Frankly, the young four pointer will not be a shooter until another two years at least will have passed, and never, of course, with kill permits.  The young buck hung around my stand for 10 more minutes before he moved on.

Twenty minutes later, two does and two fawns pranced by, but they were 35 yards away and walking steadily.  I was amazed that they did not wander over to feed on the scarlet oak acorns that have fallen near my stand.

So after three weekends of having kill permits, I have only killed one doe, the only one I have shot at.  I am not doing much to help the landowner with his deer overpopulation problem, but will try again this coming Saturday.

When the Turkey Vultures Start to Circle (Blog 308)

Today was the second Saturday for me to bow hunt while using the kill permits that a local Botetourt County farmer and conservation police officer had arranged for me to have.  It is very interesting hunting in August, but some things are the same no matter the season.

I was tethered in my tree stand an hour before shooting light, and was fortunate to hear two dueling great horned owls battling over territory or a female owl no doubt.  Right before dawn, a cardinal started singing and soon after dawn some tufted titmice, Carolina chickadees, and Carolina wrens found a strange form (yours truly) in a tree and began to mob it.

Although normally, the patch of woods I was aloft in is a deer hot spot, this morning not a single deer came by.  The temperature was 69 degrees at dawn, which wasn't overly warm for the season, but there was no wind.  I am convinced that any deer that came by likely smelled me before I even knew they were nearby.  At 10:00 A.M, two turkey vultures started to circle above me, which I took as my cue that it was time to go home.

I'll try again next Saturday.

Acorns are Falling (Blog 307)

I didn't bowhunt with my kill permits this weekend, it was just too hot with temperatures approaching 90 degrees, humidity-wise, by 9:00 A.M. But I did go to my tree stand site in mid-afternoon and put my stand up another 20 inches or so.  The doe I killed last Saturday saw me up in the stand, even though I was fully camouflaged and had on a face mask.

The most interesting thing about my little sojourn afield was that scarlet oak acorns were already on the ground.  The last two years, it has been interesting to observe how early acorns fall.  The deer are certainly aware of this as are the gray squirrels.  Last week, I saw squirrels cutting acorns.

Next Saturday morning, I am hoping for cooler weather.

Deer Hunting with Kill Permits (Blog 306)

For the second straight year, I had deer kill permits from the Virginia Game Department in order to help out a farmer who was having severe deer damage to a cornfield.  It felt strange arising at 4:24 on August 6 to go deer hunting, but I was in tree stand about 75 minutes later, waiting for dawn to break.

I didn't see my first deer until 7:24 but that one was a  young doe and only 12 yards away when I did view it.  I sent an arrow from my crossbow through both lungs (as I would find out later) and after the blood trail, I found that I had killed my first deer of the season.

Elaine and I butchered most of the doe in about 90 minutes, froze the top and bottom loins, and put the front and back legs on ice for the meat to firm up.  Tomorrow, we will turn it into burger.  It's nice to have the first deer of the season refrigerated and it was nice to help out a landowner.

Revitalizing a Former Trout Stream (Blog 305)

Today, I went over to my Gap Mills, West Virginia land with John Loope of the Roanoke Trout Unlimited chapter.  Our mission was to check on the survival of the 10 sycamores and 10 silky dogwoods that I planted this past March, check on the stability of in-stream structures constructed last summer with Roanoake TU members Morgan Wilson and Barry Witt, create three more in-stream structures to deepen the creek, and, finally, seine some minnows and other creatures to check on the productivity of the creek.

Every thing went extremely well.  The vast majority of the planted trees are growing well, last year's stream structures look to be aging well, and John and I positioned three more in the creek.  Aquatic life looked good in the creek, and we even found a rock bass in the stream.

John believes that brook trout may be ready to be stocked in the stream next spring.  That would be a wonderful thing if possible.

Benefit Book Signing for Virginia Outdoors Foundation (Blog 304)

Saturday, Elaine and I traveled to Shenandoah River State Park to do a benefit book signing for the Virginia Outdoors Foundation. It always makes us feel good to contribute something to the cause of land conservation.  Over the years, we have been able to put 412 acres under easement; land that will be permanently protected from being developed.

Groups like the VOF on the state level and groups like the Blue Ridge Land Conservancy and New River Land Trust on the local level are well worth supporting by those who are interested in protecting rural Virginia from development. It is a cause worth championing.

Virginia Turkey Gobbling on July 16 (Blog 303)

Yesterday morning I was taking a walk around 6:40 down our rural Botetourt County, Virginia road when I heard a wild turkey hen yelp, immediately followed by another hen answering her yelp. As a hardcore turkey hunting fanatic, I couldn't let that outburst go unchallenged, so I yelped back with my mouth. The two hens yelped in return, and then a tom sent out a thundering gobble.

Well, now, that was interesting I thought.  So I yelped again, the two hens yelped back, and the gobbler thundered again. I have heard mature toms gobbling in July before, so that event wasn't new, but still it is always fascinating to hear the males sounding off this time of year.

As I walked farther and farther away, the hens continued to yelp at each other, but I heard no more eruptions from the gobbler.  Apparently, he had said all he was going to say... at least for this time of year.

The Joys of a Two-Year-Old Eating Ice Cream (Blog 302)

This weekend, Elaine and I babysat our two grandsons, four-year-old Sam and two-year-old Eli. It was a hot weekend, and the power was out most of it because of a servere thunderstorm. When the weather turns muggy, what better to eat than vanilla ice cream cones, which Elaine and the boys did on several occasions.

Sam, with the wisdom and deterity of an older child, did a commendable job, by and large, of consuming his treat.  There were a minimum of spills and stickiness.

Eli, however, was not concerned about dexterity and neatness and social conventions.  It was ice cream, it was hot, and here was a young man who was not in any hurry.  Eli patiently savored every drop and dab of vanilla, revelling in it running down his chin, dribbling down his arms, and making his entire wardrobe a sweet, sticky mess. This boy knows how to enjoy an ice cream cone, as I hope these pictures indicate.

Blackberry Season Begins and a Weird Creature (Blog 301)

Today began Blackberry Season here in Botetourt County, Virginia.  The wild raspberry crop had fizzled out a few days ago, and there's always a few days between when the raspberry plants finish bearing and the blackberries begin. I wandered over our 38 acres visiting old patches and looking for new ones and found both kinds. I ended up picking  1 1/2 quarts.

Elaine and I froze them for winter pies and cobblers.  We picked three quarts of raspberries during the two weeks they were in, which doesn't sound like a lot and it isn't.  Wild raspberries are never abundant on our property as blackberries and wineberries predominate.  Any year when we can gather three or four quarts of raspberries is above average.

As always, time outdoors is filled with fascinating sights and sounds.  I heard a white-eyed vireo at one blackberry patch, both favor young forest/edge habitat.  But the most interesting thing I came across was a type of caterpillar which I could not identify.  It was working its way along a blackberry vine.  If someone can tell me what it is, I would be appreciative.

Locavore Dinner at Home (Blog 300)

Yesterday evening for dinner, Elaine fixed a wonderful locavore meal of scrambled eggs (courtesy of our Rhode Island Reds) and cheese (courtesy of the local farmer's market). For lunch we had venison burgers from a deer I killed last year.

Earlier yesterday, I gathered raspberries and checked on the progress of the blackberries and wineberries, both of which are ripening but aren't quite ready to pick. During the morning and afternoon hours, I worked on several magazine articles.  And after dinner last night, we played a scintillating game of Scrabble.

Nothing epic happened yesterday, but all days spent with Elaine are good ones.

Anniversary Night Spent Babysitting (Blog 299)

This past Friday, June 10 was Elaine's and my 38th anniversary.  It was also the anniversary of our daughter Sarah and her husband David, so we volunteered to babysit their boys, four-year-old Sam and two-year-old Eli.

The night started off well with Sam and Eli being very enthusiastic about dinner - their stuffed cheeks in the picture below indicate thusly.

Next on the agenda was a rousing game of hide-and-go-seek.  Neither boy has all the basics of the game yet as Sam always hides in his room and always shouts out where he is.  On the other hand, Eli just hides, no matter if he is supposed to be looking for me or actually hiding. The pictures below show the boys counting, they are good at that skill and hiding, both, strangely enough, hiding in the same box in the middle of the floor in, of course, Sam's room.

We then finished the evening with baths (my pants were sopping wet when this activity was finished) and story time, Elaine reading to Eli and I reading to Sam, then putting our respective young men to bed.

Although Elaine and I did not have a romantic night out, we wouldn't have changed places with anyone.  It was a wonderful anniversary.

Running a Rapid Wrong on the New River (Blog 298)

Yesterday, friends Doak Harbison and Tim Wimer took the Peppers Ferry to Whitethorne float on Virginia's New River. As the author of a book on the waterway, The New River Guide, I should not have trouble negotiating Class I and II rapids. Tim and Doak, when we go on river excursions, trust me to make the plans on how much time to allot, which trips to take, and which rapids to be careful of.

However, I confess that I let Doak down yesterday. Just above the Class III Arsenal Rapid is another rapid that is considered part of the general whitewater in the area. There is a  slot down the river right side; and with me in the bow, I missed the slot which resulted in us crashing into a large rock at the end of the upper rapid.

This led to the boat overturning and Doak and me tumbling into the water.  Fortunately, we were not hurt and no gear was lost. But still my snafu was very frustrating, and I couldn't apologize to Doak enough.  By the way, we had no trouble going through the heart of Arsenal Rapid, as we took the large slot on the far right as my book says to do.

On the New or any river, you never know when something could go wrong. The picture below shows Tim fishing below the Arsenal rapid.

Simple Summer Joys (Blog 297)

I have worked hard on the writing front, finishing two magazine stories and writing a third, plus having a book signing this week...my first full one after the end of the school year. I think I just may take the rest of the day off except for a few chores around the yard.

After finishing my writing work and with school out for the summer, I like to stop being so goal oriented for a while and enjoy the summer.  This afternoon, I plan on picking the last of the North Star sour cherries and weeding the garden.

Elaine has already make cherry bread (see below)

 with the fruit from our tree, and I think we have enough cherries left for her to make either cookies or muffins.  Cookies or muffins...that is the big decision for this afternoon - a nice situation after a hard week of  writing.

Black Rat Snake in the Henhouse (Blog 296)

Yesterday evening, Elaine and I received a phone call from our daughter Sarah, who lives across the hollow from us with her husband David and their two boys. Sarah said that a huge snake was in the main nesting box of the henhouse, and that David was out walking.

Elaine and I hurried over, and Sarah's depiction of the snake was not hyperbole.  The black rat snake was  over six feet long (David later held it up for measuring purposes) and the reptile had stuffed itself with eggs, which were slowly making their way down the snake's body.

When David returned from his walk, he and I experienced an "interesting" time extracting the snake from the henhouse, using a combination of hoes, rakes, and shovels to do so.

It's been an interesting time the last 10 days or so out in our rural Virginia hollow.  Last week, we watched as a copperhead consumed a chipmunk while in our driveway and now the henhouse episode.  Soon to come, no doubt, will be the annual visitation of skinks slinking into our house, and, maybe, like one summer, a flying squirrel coming down the chimney.

Strawberry Season (Blog 295)

Strawberry season lasts a glorious ten days or so in our Botetourt County, Virginia garden, and we are coming to the end of it.  Elaine has made strawberry jam (see picture below) as well as strawberry pie and we have enjoyed these red berries with our oatmeal and yogurt.  As good as the strawberry pie can be, I have to say that the jam is my favorite.  We will save these jars for the winter when we can enjoy this spring harvest once again.

It's not only the strawberry plants that are producing right now, so are the chives, onions, and spinach.  Few meals are as good as a venison burger with onions and spinach, chives on a baked potato, plus any sort of vegetable dish and strawberries in some form of dessert.

West Virginia Turkey Season Ends (Blog 294)

This morning, I drove to our Monroe County, West Virginia land to hunt on the final day of spring gobbler season.  On my first visit to the land, I heard five different gobblers, so I had hopes that this outing would prove fruitful.

I was able to call in two turkeys over the course of the morning, but they were both hens.  In fact, on the last two Saturdays of the season, I called in a total of four hens, but no gobblers.

Turkey hunting is often a perplexing pastime, but these last two Saturdays have been overly so.  Where did all the gobblers on the mountain go? I heard not a single one the last three visits.  Why didn't any of those hens have a tom in tow?

Anyway, though my Virginia and Tennessee seasons went well, I blanked in West Virginia and don't really understand why.

Living off the Land (Blog 293)

This week has been a wonderful one for Elaine and me living off what the land has to offer us and others.  We've had various venison themed meals for our entrees, egg dishes from our chickens, a blackberry pie from the wild berries we picked last summer, and early season onions, spinach, chives, and asparagus from our garden.

The strawberry plants are setting fruit, as are our crabapple and cherry trees. Our Rome apple tree will hopefully do the same soon. I've planted 18 tomato plants and hopefully this weekend, if no more rain falls, I can at long last plant zuke and squash seeds.

Tomorrow morning, I'll be turkey hunting in West Virginia, hoping to add to our freezer supply of venison and wild turkey.  The hens should be on the nest by now, and I hope the toms will come when called.

West Virginia Gobbling in the Flog (Blog 292)

This morning I went to a mountaintop in West Virginia's Monroe County to turkey hunt.  The air was heavy with moisture and a dense fog shrouded the mountain, so I was worried that the toms would not be gobbling.

Instead, well before dawn, a tom sounded off to my barred owl call and then three more longbeards chimed in.  The gobbling went on for quite some time, but eventually stopped but not the fog.  The murk continued until well after 9 and even then did not entirely lift. I never saw a turkey.

That is until I walked back to my vehicle where a gobbler was feeding nearby.  Of course, I spooked him.  I am thinking of taking  a half day personal day from school on the next clear morning.

West Virginia Turkey Hunting (Blog 291)

This morning I drove to a mountain in Monroe County, West Virginia to turkey hunt, and, unfortunately, as I feared would be the case at this stage of the season, the gobblers were all henned up. I used to bemoan the fact that I couldn't convince gobblers to answer me after they flew down from the roost, but, now, I understand why this is typically the case in this part of April.

The three toms I heard at sunrise never gobbled on the ground.  Later in the morning, I was hoping that they would start up again, but the wind was howling on the mountain, and I probably would not have heard them if they had gobbled after 10:00.

Still, it was an interesting day afield.  I heard my first scarlet tanagers, worm-eating warblers, and yellow-throated vireos of the spring.  In a few days, I expect to hear my first yellow-billed cuckoo.

And in about a week when more of the hens have gone to the nest, I expect a gobbler will come charging in one morning.

Saturday Morning in the Virginia Turkey Woods (Blog 290)

After tagging out in Virginia last Sunday, I looked forward all week to not toting a shotgun and taking friend Doak Harbison back to the same Franklin County farm - and woodlot - where I found three gobblers sounding off, one of which ended up riding home with me.

I promised Doak that we would at least have two toms rumbling in the pre-dawn, instead we heard nine separate toms gobbling.  For over an hour, the toms entertained us, as did numerous hens.  We estimated that were over 20 turkeys within 200 yards of us.

With all that cacophony, I opted to stay put until 8:30, but it was evident at that time that the turkeys had deserted us.  We moved deeper into the forest and heard two more gobblers, both of which came partially in over the course of the next 80 minutes or so but would not fully commit.

Although we never actually saw a turkey, the morning was still an interesting one as I heard my first prairie warbler and ovenbird of the year.  Now, I am looking forward to heading for West Virginia next Saturday.

Virginia's Opening Weekend of Spring Gobbler Season (Blog 289)

Saturday, opening day of Virginia's spring gobbler season, found me in a woodlot bordering an alfalfa field in Franklin County.  The up to 40-mph winds buffeted my decoy and me about, and the only turkey seen all morning was a lonesome jake.

Sunday found me back at the same farm but I opted to hunt a different section of the farm where I had seen lots of sign during pre-season scouting.  It was the right call because I called in and killed a nice two-year-old tom.

With my two turkeys back in the fall, I am now tagged out in Virginia and look forward to taking other people in Virginia and hunting in West Virginia.  The older I become, the more I enjoy not bringing a gun and trying to help other people be successful. In fact, friend Doak Harbison and I have already planned a trip to the Franklin County farm next Saturday.

Spring Gobbler Scouting in Virginia (Blog 288)

Yesterday, friend Doak Harbison and I spent a marvelous morning scouting for turkeys in Franklin County, Virginia.  We heard at least a dozen different gobblers, probably closer to 15, as well as numerous hens.  Of course, all that cacophony of sound may not translate into success on April 9, but still the turkey talk was impressive.

What was also a thrill for me was hearing numerous species of songbirds.  I heard my first pine warblers, Louisiana waterthrush, chipping sparrows, and hooded warblers of the season. But the best bird of the day is what Doak and I thought might have been a rough-legged hawk, though we were not totally convinced.

We will be hunting at this Franklin County farm on opening day.

Working to Renew a Former Trout Stream (Blog 287)

Last weekend, I continued working to reinvigorate a former trout stream that flows through my 94-acre parcel in Monroe County, West Virginia. After school let out for the day, I drove the 56 miles to the land and planted 20 trees, 10 each of sycamores and silky dogwoods.

This part of the creek formerly suffered damage from livestock-caused erosion, and the banks have been worn down in a number of places.  It is at those places where I planted the trees.

One learns something about a particular piece of land almost everytime the property is visited.  On this occasion, I found where a small spring dribbled into my creek - a fount that I have never noticed before.  Hopefully that spring, and the improvements I've done and will do, will one day result in trout being restored there.

Smallmouth Fishing on the New River (Blog 286)

This past Saturday as part of Britt Stoudenmire and his New River Outdoor Company's annual March "Guides' Tournament" I had the chance to fish with guides Steve Journell and Boo Garber.  The goal is to catch, measure, and release your best five smallmouth bass per boat, and the three of us had a quintet of smallmouths that measured, as I recall, around 92 inches.

March action, or action really just about anytime on the New, can be that good.  Our total was good enough for a tie for first place.  To be truthful, my losing a 21-inch or so smallmouth was the reason my team failed to win, but such is life and such, sometimes, are my fishing skills.

In any event, Britt and his guides are always a pleasure to fish with.  For more information: http://www.icanoethenew.com.  The picture below shows Steve playing a trophy smallmouth while Boo readies the net.

Living the Locavore Lifestyle Book Comes Out (Blog 285)

Elaine's and my new book, Living the Locavore Lifestyle, has just come out.  It's about how by hunting and fishing for food, as well as gathering wild berries, mushrooms, and nuts, planting a garden, raising chickens and fruit trees, and buying locally grown produce and meats, people can lead a more sustainable and healthy lifestyle.

For the book, Elaine wrote most of the recipes while I interviewed folks from the Quality Deer Management Association, National Wild Turkey Federation, and guides and fishermen like Britt Stoudenmire, Herschel Finch, and Richard Furman, well-

known outdoors people such as Jim and Sherry Crumley, as well as expert small game hunters such as Jay Honse and Jerry Paitsel.

If folks are interested in signed, dedicated copies, they can send a check for $17.50 to us at 1009 Brunswick Forge Road, Troutville, VA 24175.  That amount covers taxes and shipping.

Rhode Island Red Chicks Arrive (Post 284)

Wednesday our heritage Rhode Island Red chicks arrived from Dick Horstman, a well-known breeder of birds from Pennsylvania.  We also ordered chicks for two friends, Bryce Clingenpeel and Zach Kyle who will be raising heritage birds for the first time.

The plan is for us to periodically exchange hens so as to inject new genes into the mix.  It is always exciting to greet two-day-old chicks, but this is especially true when the birds are heritage ones.

Elaine has done a superlative job helping our young charges feel at home, assiduously setting up their brooder and making sure that clean water and food are always present.  Many times every day we go downstairs to the brooder and talk to our birds so that they can become accustomed to us.

All in all, it has been a good week on the chicken front.  Our three heritage Rhode Island Red pullets, that arrived from Horstman last year, had a fantastic week of egg production - their best yet by far.

Tomorrow is Virginia's Last Day of Squirrel Season (Blog 283)

Monday when I arrive home from school, I am going out my backdoor and hunt for squirrels as it is the final day of the bushytail season.  The ending of the season will be little noticed by many state hunters, but I really enjoy walking through the woods on a winter day and pursuing squirrels.

I really don't care if I kill one or not, it is just being out in the woods with a shotgun that is pleasurable to me.  A hollow sycamore is where I plan to take a stand as the creatures should be emerging from the hardwood about 5:00.  Then the action should be really good until dark.

But, then again, I may not see any, as it won't be the last time that I have guessed wrong about squirrels and their peculiarities.  We'll see how things go and whether Elaine will be making a squirrel casserole this week.

Wildlife Sign in Snow (Block 282)

Just enough snow blanketed our Botetourt County, Virginia land this Saturday morning for me to go on a wildlife sign expedition before higher temperatures melted what was left of the five inches that fell on Monday. I had only walked a few steps into the woods when I found racoon tracks and only a few more steps showed where several deer had passed by.

When I arrived at the seeded logging road that runs the perimeter of most of our place, I found even more tracks.  An entire flock of turkeys had ambled down the pathway as had numerous whitetails.  I also located coyote scat, squirrel tracks, and where an opossum had been.

It's true that nothing usual had come by, but I still immensely enjoyed the experience.  I can only hope the turkeys will still be here when spring gobbler season arrives.

Elaine Returns Home from Her Cruise (Blog 281)

Elaine came home yesterday evening from her week-long cruise to the Virgin Islands, and I was thrilled to see her again.  Given that we couldn't even talk to each other because of the distance, it was the longest we have been apart in our nearly 38 years of marriage.

Elaine regaled me with stories of seeing Broadway shows and eating lobster tail for dinner, and the sheer majesty of her cruise ship.  I told her how many eggs the chickens had laid while she was gone, how the pot holes on our rural road were finally filled, and how I had cut firewood in advance of a snow.

She once told me that as a girl growing up, she always thought that she would marry some professional man, like a lawyer, doctor, or businessman, and live in the suburbs.  "Instead," she said, "I'm living out in the woods with nature boy."  There was a long pause, and she added, "And I'm very glad that I am."

Welcome home, sweetheart.

Grouse Hunting in the Virginia and West Virginia Mountains (Blog 280)

Today, I went grouse hunting in the Virginia and West Virginia mountains with friends Paul Hinlicky and Andy Rosenberger.  My reflexes and wingshooting skills are terrible and anyone who has ever gone bird hunting with me can attest to that condition.

Which is one of the reasons I enjoy going grouse hunting in January and February after the deer and turkey seasons have closed.  We experienced

a number of flushes today and on one of them the ruff flew very close to my position.  Paul and Andy both asked why I didn't shoot, and I explained that the bird was only visible for two seconds, and, for me, the first second and a half was taken up with my being surprised and the the next half second with my fumbling with my shotgun.

Later, I told Paul how I needed for a bird to act when it flushed.

"A grouse would need to rise up and fly directly away from me in a straight line at an even height for about four seconds, then I might have a chance."

Of course, ruffs don't fly like that, but, nevertheless, I had a great time in the mountains today.

Squirrel Hunting on a Saturday afternoon Blog 279)

One of the most pleasurable activities possible on a January or February Saturday afternoon is to walk out our backdoor and squirrel hunt for a few hours on our 38-acre Southwest Virginia land. The snow that fell a week ago was so deep and it has been cold for so long, that I have not been able to hunt bushytails until today.

I had been outside for about 45 minutes without seeing or hearing any gray squirrels, so I decided to make some squirrel barks with my mouth.  A squirrel about 75 yards away answered, so I tried to still hunt toward it through the still, deep snow.

Despite my best efforts, I made too much noise, and the animal spotted me, as did the next squirrel, I tried the barking gambit on.

Meanwhile, my son-in-law David was also afield, and he was able to kill a silvertail.  Tomorrow afternoon, we are going again.  The goal...kill four squirrels between us and have Elaine and Sarah fix us a squirrel casserole.

Happy Birthday, Elaine (Blog 278)

Today is Elaine's birthday, the snow is falling heavily here in Botetourt County, Virginia, and accumulations could be several feet.  Snowed in with my sweetheart is not a bad thing to contemplate.

When Elaine woke up, I had a series of Youtube birthday songs cued for her, leading off with "Happy, Happy Birthday Baby," followed by "Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen," and others.

Yesterday our grandson Sam and I made the birthday dessert (wineberry cobbler) for today, and this morning Elaine and I put the makings for her birthday lunch (venison roast) in our cast iron pot to simmer throughout the morning hours.  The recipe comes courtesy of friend Doak Harbison.

This evening, we'll have homemade strawberry jam on bread and perhaps some lunch leftovers, then play Scrabble for the evening entertainment.  All in all, not a bad day.

Wintertime Turkey Hunting or Snowed in? (Blog 277)

This coming Saturday, I am supposed to take two friends turkey hunting.  One of the friends has never gone afield for turkeys, so I am very much looking forward to taking him. Virginia's two-week winter turkey season in January is a great time to introduce people to the wonders of turkey hunting.

But the forecast for Friday is for five inches or more of snow, so I spent part of my time today bringing firewood from our outdoor woodpile to our garage where we store wood.

 I have to confess I will be quite content if there is snow or not.  If the snowfall does not happen, I will have a great time trying to find and call in birds for my friends.  If I am snowed in for the weekend, I will start the wood stove on Friday and be content to sit by the fire, work on stories, and play Scrabble with Elaine.  I think she is planning to bake a blackberry pie for the weekend and prepare some kind of wild turkey dish.  It's a win-win situation for me.

First Saturday after Deer Season (Blog 276)

The first Saturday after Virginia's deer season, Elaine and I fall into a comfortable groove, which is one of the reasons I enjoy the winter season so much.  I spend Saturdays behind the house either cutting wood, doing wildlife habitat improvement projects, or squirrel hunting.

Then on Saturday evenings, we have a locavore themed dinner, play Scrabble, and listen to Prairie Home Companion. Elaine almost always cooks dinner, but as a way of saying thank you for her being so understandable about all my deer and turkey hunting, I was the cook last night.

My two major efforts were baked venison burgers with sharp cheddar cheese and wineberry cobbler, the former from a deer I had killed on our land, the latter from berries picked during our rambles.  We then had a rousing game of Scrabble (our Scrabble tournament is over 25 years old and we have had 64 best of 11 matches) and listened to the radio.  All in all, it was a wonderful evening with my wife.

Downton Abbey Comes to Botetourt County, Virginia (Blog 275)

It is the launch weekend for the final season of Downton Abbey, and as part of the preshow hoopla, I was given an afternoon of royal English treatment.  Bruce had told me to vacate to the upstairs around 3:00.  Shortly afterwards, I heard the clomp, clomp, clomp of footsteps in the hall, and there, making an appearance, were two black-clad footmen presenting tea and a muffin.  The taller of the two was Bruce, and the mystery of the clomping became clear when I looked down and saw his leather wingtips, worn at our wedding 37 1/2 years ago and sporting almost that large a layer of dust. 

The shorter footman was our grandson Sam, carefully carrying the muffin plate. 

I dressed for dinner in all my jewels, some of which Sam had to alternately wear or place on the  toy train track for crashes and other excitement.  After an appropriate time of puzzle play and trains, dinner was served informally in the kitchen with all household members eating together.  The dowager would be shocked, but after all, times are changing.