Barred Owls Battle in West Virginia's Spring Gobbler Woods (Blog 390)

After tagging out in Virginia, I've turned to spring gobbler hunting in West Virginia. This past Sunday, I was making barred owl sounds, and four of these owls came flying in to my sounds.

They created quite a ruckus, and I saw no need to call further and decided to watch how the owls interacted. To my surprise, two of them attacked each other in mid-air and tumbled to the ground fighting. Then a third owl flew in to where the two were jousting on the ground.

I could not see which owl won the ground battle, but, to my chagrin, all of that hooting awakened nary a gobbler.  I went home empty handed, but it was a fascinating morning.

Spring Gobbler Success in Virginia Woods (Blog 389)

Friday, I took a vacation day from school and hunted my best Botetourt County farm and though I heard five gobblers, I also heard and saw hens. Saturday, I hunted another really good place and heard three toms off our land in the Sinking Creek Valley of Craig County. Sunday, I went to the best farm I have permission to hunt, one in Franklin County.  And never came close to killing a bird.

With my having to be at school on Monday morning by 8:45, I almost decided not to go. But, ultimately, I did and a tom came charging in to position, not long after he flew down from the roost. The gobbler and I were back home by around 7:00 A.M., time for Elaine to take pictures of the bird and me, and for me to clean him.

Spring gobbler hunting is full of little ironies, and such was the case again. Three days when I had to noon to hunt and never came close to punching a tag, and then on a short hunt before school, I tagged a tom quickly. Since I killed two VA birds in the fall, I am now tagged out in my home state. Saturday, I will go afield in West Virginia.

Virginia Gobblers Uncooperative, but Songbirds Are Returning (Blog 388)

I continued to struggle while turkey hunting this week. I have now been out seven times either on weekends or before school and have not yet seen a gobbler except for one that was about 100 yards away. The typical outing goes like the following: hear toms on the roost, they gobble a little, then they depart with their hens for parts unknown.

The songbird watching and listening has been great, though.  Whip-poor-wills and chuck-wills-widows returned this week as did scarlet tanagers, worm-eating warblers, and ovenbirds. Fascinatingly, a worm-eating warbler came within about five yards of me, and I watched it hopping about the forest floor looking for bugs.

The turkey hunting should improve soon, once more hens go to lay their eggs.

Spring Gobbler Opening day in Virginia (Blog 387)

Opening day in Virginia was today, and it was very uneventful for me. With brisk winds, warm weather, and humidity, I was not optimistic there would be much gobbling on the Franklin County farm I was afield on.

Unfortunately, I was correct in my predictions on how the day would be. I didn't hear my first gobble until 9:15, and it was in response to a crow call. I only heard two more the rest of the day, one in answer to the crow call and a random gobble in mid-morning.

Disappointed for sure, but I'm not depressed about it. Sooner or later, the birds will turn on, and then the excitement will begin.

Setting Up too Close to a Tennessee Gobbler (Blog 386)

This past Saturday, I was in Northeast Tennessee to hunt opening day of that state's spring gobbler season. I was afield with Larry Proffitt, my long time turkey hunting mentor and friend, of Elizabethton. Larry and I climbed a Sullivan County mountain in the dark, and while we were waiting for dawn, a gobbler began sounding off directly behind us.

Larry motioned for me to slowly scoot around to the other side of the tree, which I did. A while later, I was able to make out the tom in a tree about 50 yards from us. Larry had been making pitting sounds before the tom gobbled, which perhaps made the old boy start up.

Anyway, I felt doom was at hand when I saw that the gobbler was so close. Every time except one during my 32 years of spring gobbler hunting when I have, by chance, set up in the dark within sight of a roosted gobbler, the hunt had turned out badly.

This hunt, too, ended in failure as when dawn came, the tom pitched down and quickly rambled away out of shooting range. All I could do was watch him flee. Is there such a thing as being too close to a roosted tom? I think so.

Gobblers in Virginia Begin Anew (Blog 385)

A blast of cold air and two snowfalls shut down all gobbling here in the mountains of Southwest Virginia, that is, all gobbling except for one lone tom. In the midst of a driving wind and precipitation, that old boy was gobbling.

That is the type of bird that I would like to hunt on opening day - one gobbling in the wind and snow. That kind of tom will invariably come charging in.

Still, he was the only one to sound off for the entire week until the warm front came through this morning. Predictably, a gobbler on the eastern side of our property greeted the dawn and was so boisterous that both my son-in-law David and I both heard him. Opening day is just two weeks distant.

Chickens in the Snow (Blog 384)

At 2:45 this morning, I woke up, looked out the window and saw snow falling, and knew what I had to do. Earlier this month, we had a wet, slushy snow, and the netting covering our two chicken runs collapsed, leaving our heritage Rhode Island Reds vulnerable to an owl or hawk attack.

Elaine and I spent an hour or so repairing the damage then. I figured it was better to arise in the wee hours than wait until dawn and try to repair the net. When I arrived inside the two runs, the netting was already badly sagging, so I as delicately as possible tapped the bottom of the netting with a broom to cause snow to cascade through the openings.

I'll go outside at dawn to do the broom tapping gambit again. I expect more such visits will be required during what appears will be a long, snow-filled day.

Gobbling Intensity Increasing in Southwest Virginia (Blog 383)

What a difference a week makes here in Southwest Virginia in terms of gobbling intensity. Two weeks ago, a lone gobble every few mornings was the norm. Now, the "normal" progression of spring morning sounds is evident.

For example, this morning, the crows, as is typical in spring, were the first birds to really announce the dawn in a boisterous way. This seemed to wake up two gobblers behind my house, and they began gobbling every 45 or so seconds. I also noted that the two toms were on opposite side of our 38 acres in Botetourt County, perhaps because they have already endured several skirmishes with each other.

What I expect to happen next - perhaps in just a few days - is an outbreak of non-stop gobbling as one longbeard becomes consumed with the prospects of mating, which, in turn, sets several other gobblers off.

Woodcock Mating Season in Full Throttle in Southwest Virginia (Blog 382)

This morning at 5:45, I left our Botetourt County, Virginia house to walk and almost immediately heard the sounds of a male woodcock doing his mating aerial dance.  Soon afterwards, I heard another woodcock while I was walking up the driveway.  And about 100 yards into my walk, a third one was heard.

Next to hearing the sounds of gobblers in early spring, I love to hear the whistling and peents of woodcocks. Adding to the morning aura was snow flakes falling.  In the distance, it seemed like the surrounding mountains were enveloped in snow as well. The forecast is for snow at dawn on Monday.  I wonder if the woodcocks will persist in their mating rituals if snow falls?

First Gobbling, First Woodcock (Blog 381)

Yesterday, February 28, brought the first gobble of the morning, here in Southwest Virginia. I was out walking when I heard a distant jake sound off.  Not quite believing my ears, I paused for several minutes, then yelped with my mouth. 

Nothing answered, so I resumed my walk feeling that I had misinterpreted what I thought I had heard. However, three minutes later, the jake gobbled again, and this time there was no mistaking the sound. I again yelped and again no response. Several minutes later, the young tom belted out one more gobble.

This morning brought a cool rain and 50 degree temperatures in Botetourt County. While I was tending to our chickens, I heard the distant sounds of a woodcock doing his aerial mating dance. Two sure signs of onrushing spring are gobbling toms and the return of woodcocks.

No Gobbling Yet in the Southwest Virginia Mountains (Blog 380)

For the past week or so, I have been listening a little more intently to the beginning signs of spring as the morning temperatures have been in the 50s. Two days ago,  this winter/spring, I heard a song sparrow singing its mating song for the first time. Cardinals have already broken into song and mourning doves are likewise in full-blown mating mood.

Our two Rhode Island Red roosters have increased the intensity of their morning skirmishes, even though their respective domains are separated by a wire fence. The two roosters often fling themselves against the fence and give each other the evil eye in this battle for one upsmanship.

Still, though, I have not heard the first gobble on our 38 acres in Botetourt County. While I was tending the chickens this morning, two turkey hens began yelping and cutting, and I was sure that a tom would respond to that. But none did. It won't be long, though, because I have at least two longbeards that roost on our land.

More Young Forests Needed in Virginia's National Forests (Blog 379)

This weekend, I am going hiking in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forest with Wayne Thacker, chair of the Virginia Wildlife Habitat Coalition. This is a group from such Virginia  entities as the Bear Hunters Association, the Bowhunters Association, the Deer Hunters Association, the Hunting Dog Alliance, the State Chapter of the National Wild Turkey Federation, the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation State Leadership Team, the State Advisory Council of the Quality Deer Management Association, and representatives from two Virginia Ruffed Grouse Chapters. 

We will be talking about the need for the creation of more young forests on the GWJNF as part of a Virginia Wildlife magazine story I am working on. Many people, both hunters and non-hunters, do not realize the importance of young forests and early succession habitat for many species of game and non-game wildlife.

A good publication on this is Talking about Young Forests, A Communication Handbook. For more information, contact Thacker at bumcw@aol.com.

Signs of Spring in Virginia (Blog 378)

It's not even mid-February yet, but I noticed an early sign of spring this week - a male cardinal singing in a lusty manner. Of course, cardinals are a year-round resident in Southwest Virginia, and they do sing year-round, which is unlike most songbirds.

Nevertheless, the duration of this particular bird's song was what made it different.  The cardinal, at dawn, launched into a full-throated outburst and kept up the music for quite some time. In a week or so, I wager, our local Carolina wren will begin doing the same, and I also expect to hear mourning doves singing soon as they are one of the first birds to build nests, around here usually in March.

I also expect the two turkey gobblers that have been roosting behind our house to become "restless" by early March. Then I will know for sure that spring is here.

Letting Our Heritage Rhode Island Reds Forage (Blog 377)

Today is bitterly cold and with snow in the forecast for Sunday, Elaine and I decided to let our heritage Rhode Island Reds forage in our backyard while I cleaned out their henhouse. After our chickens had been in the yard for a while, I noticed that Elaine had followed our flock into the surrounding woodlot.

"There's just nothing green for them to eat in the yard," said Elaine, and she was right. It is now February and the depth of winter, and the yard is as gray as the sky on an overcast day. Perhaps our chickens found a few random green tidbits among the forest duff, but chances are that, too, had been picked over by songbirds, squirrels, and rabbits. It's winter and times are hard for wildlife and wandering chickens.

Heading Out into the Virginia Turkey Woods (Blog 376)

It's 5:39 A.M. as I write this and in about 20 minutes my son-in-law David Reynolds will be by to pick me up for us to go turkey hunting on the last day of Virginia's winter turkey season. I have killed my two-bird limit, so I won't be carrying a gun, but I am still really excited to be going.

So excited that I had trouble sleeping last night. Just the thought of entering the woods to pursue turkeys, whether it is fall, winter, or spring, is incredible pleasurable and stimulating to me. The challenge of matching up against a bird whose sight and hearing is far superior to mine and whose instincts are so raw and pure. It's one of the many great things about hunting turkeys.

Who knows whether David will kill a bird or not or whether we will even find a flock. That story will be written in the woods this morning.

Homebound in the Virginia Mountains (Blog 375)

The weather continues to be bitterly cold here in Southwest Virginia, and school is closed once again, so I can't start Of Mice and Men again today with my tenth graders or help my freshmen with their PowerPoints on the 1930s.

Our two flocks of heritage Rhode Island Reds are refusing to come out of their respective henhouses, except for brief forays to the feeder. And Elaine has beaten me three straight games of Scrabble. We were half way through the game last night, and she was already ahead of me by some 150 points. It was then that I did the only thing I could - overturn the board and concede defeat. I used to overturn the board when she was ahead and claim that it was an accident.  That gambit has never worked, however.

Warmer days are hopefully ahead.

Rhode Island Red Pullets Start Laying (Blog 374)

Life is full of small success stories. Last April, Elaine and I watched one of our heritage Rhode Island Red hens, Mary, hatch three chicks on her first try as a mother. Although we had hatched other eggs in an incubator, there is no comparison to seeing a hen actually do what genetically she is programmed to do.

This week, Mary's two pullets began laying eggs.  Elaine has named them Thelma and Louise as my wife is in charge of naming the hens while I give the cockerels their appellations. The first egg appeared on Wednesday and the second on Thursday, though the two young hens have not yet grasped the concept of depositing their eggs in a nesting box.  Nevertheless, it is exciting times in the Ingram household.

Deer Hunting in the Cold (Blog 373)

Today is the last day of deer season, and I am doubtful if I will be able to summon up enough courage to go afield. Monday, New Year's Day, my son-in-law David Reynolds and I went to a Botetourt County, Virginia cattle farm, arriving on our respective stands around 3:15.

The temperature with the wind chill was 4 degrees, and neither one of us made it to the end of shooting light at 5:35. In fact, we ran into each other leaving the woods at 5:15. Neither one of us had seen a deer. David summed up our respective thoughts when he said, "I knew it was time to get up when I realized I was too cold to shoot a deer if one did come by."

We talked earlier in the week about going today in late afternoon when the temperature will be around 0 with the wind chill. I have a feeling that we will probably cancel.

Babysitting the Grandsons (Blog 372)

It's a blustery, cold Saturday, and our wood stove is stoked, and our grandsons Sam (age 5) and Eli (age 3) are having a sleepover. As I write, we are watching a Thomas movie and the boys are drinking hot chocolate. Eli has already spilled his, but, hey,no problem.

I have often teased Elaine that when I first asked her out if I had said, "Go out with me on a date, and one night 35 or 40 years later, we can be babysitting our grandchildren. Would you have gone out with me, if that had been my line?"

Elaine is rather non-committal on that question, leaving me much in doubt if that would have been a good approach.

Finding a Christmas Tree with my Grandsons (Blog 371)

One of the joys of living out in the country and having Elaine's and my two grandsons, five-year-old Sam and three-year-old Eli, living nearby is seeing them experience Christmas. This week one day after school, the boys came over and helped me find, cut down, and drag back to the house a Christmas tree.

The tree was just a scrawny Virginia pine, but to Same and Eli, it was a tree of magnificent beauty and importance. I look forward to seeing them unrap their presents there on Monday

The Joy of Cutting Wood (Blog 370)

Saturday morning, I spent my time working on my next book and several magazine articles. After lunch, though, I spent several hours working in our woodlot, using my chainsaw and splitting maul.

There is something wonderful and satisfying about hard physical labor that is difficult to describe. Several years ago, a huge limb fell from a dead chestnut oak in the hollow directly behind our house.  For the past two winters, I have worked on this log, as it is exceptionally thick and hard to saw. Yesterday, I finally finished cutting and splitting it. The wood from the log now sits on our sundeck and burns in our stove.

When not using our wood stove, Elaine and I keep our thermostat set to 68 degrees. But Elaine loves for me to start up our wood stove on weekends because she says the heat "is warmer." She's right, it does seem to be. This afternoon, I need to work on a pignut hickory that fell close to the driveway last week, and then there's that long dead black locust that lies on the ground. Both need my attention.

Rhode Island Reds See Their Snow (Blog 369)

Elaine and I have two flocks of heritage Rhode Island Reds living side by side in separate enclosures. We call the older chickens the "Big Reds" and the younger ones, the "Little Reds." This morning, the Little Reds experienced their first snow, and their leader, Don Junior, an eight-month-old cockerel, stuck his head out the henhouse door, saw the snow, emitted an alarm note, and promptly announced to his flock in chicken speak that it was not safe to go outside. Approximately, a half inch of snow had fallen overnight.

Of course, next door, Don Senior resolutely led his flock outside and began to do what chickens do best... eating. Meanwhile, I had to lure Don Junior, who so far has not taken after his father in bravery and leadership skills, out of the house by dangling bread bits a few inches in front of him. Once Don Junior was down on the ground, I had to physically remove the rest of the flock to join in.

Last winter, when snow fell one weekend, the younger flock stayed inside for several days, and a mite outbreak took place.  I don't know if that was because they remained inside for several days, but I am going to try to make sure that an infestation does not occur this winter. One way to do that is to make sure our flock spends time foraging - not cowering inside.

Sitting Out the Last Day of Virginia's General Firearms Season (Blog 368)

Today here in Botetourt County, it is the last day of Virginia's general firearms season West of the Blue Ridge. Here I am working on a magazine article and my next Young Adult fiction novel. Elaine's and my freezer is almost full, and I wouldn't mind taking one more doe, but, honestly, I am looking forward to the late muzzleloader season.

I love that season and that time of the year. The weather is usually cold, sometimes, like last year, there is snow on the ground the last week of the season, which is the first week of January. Trudging through the snow, searching for deer sign, trying to dress warmly enough so that I can sit still for hours - it's all so challenging and exhilarating.

Quite frankly, most years I don't kill a deer during the late season, so my success rate is rather pathetic.  In fact, last year during the six antlerless days in Botetourt County, I never saw a doe, just four or five non-shooter young bucks. But during Virginia's late season, just being out in the woods is a good enough reason to be there.

Thanksgiving Eve with the Family (Blog 367)

Elaine and I usually celebrate Thanksgiving Eve at our house with our daughter Sarah, her husband David, and their children Sam and Eli. And so it was last night. The only person missing was our son Mark who is in Alaska teaching.

Elaine fixed a scrumptious venison vegetable soup, made from a deer I had killed and for dessert we had crabapple muffins from our Dolgo crabapple tree. After dinner, we called Mark and visited with him for a while. It was a really good evening.

Virginia Bucks in the Morning, Does in the Evening (Blog 366)

Sunday morning, I went deer hunting on one of our properties in Craig County. I set up high on a ridge where I could overlook a feeding flat below, a place I have killed a number of deer over the years. With the general firearms season in and my being afield with a rifle, I was looking to kill a nice doe or a mature buck.

However, I never saw a doe all morning, though I did see four young bucks, drifting through the area and periodically fighting with each other. The sightings were extremely exciting because at one point, I had bucks around me for almost an hour.

That evening, I went hunting on our land in the Eagle Rock area of Botetourt County. I had never hunted the property before, just having bought it last year.  So I arrived at 2:00, set up by 2:15 and killed a doe by 2:30. I think I will hunt this property more in the future.

Virginia Muzzleloader Season Success (Blog 365)

After not being able to hunt Monday through Wednesday of the first week of Virginia's muzzleloader season, I finally was able to plan an after school hunt in Roanoke County. I drove quickly from school to the Roanoke County food plot that was my destination and about 90 seconds after I set up, the deer began filing into the plot.

First came a two pointer, then a nice  2 1/2-year-old six pointer, then another two pointer, and finally a doe. I watched the doe for about two minutes, then she moved slightly and I was able to make an easy 35-yard shot.

Saturday, I am heading for West Virginia to turkey hunt in the Jefferson National Forest in Monroe County. We'll see how that goes.

No luck on Opening Weekend of Virginia's Muzzleloading Season (Blog 364)

I was very confident that I would kill a deer on opening weekend of Virginia's muzzleloading season. I had chosen to hunt a food plot in Roanoke County so that I could kill a doe, given that every day in Roanoke is antlerless during the smokepole season.

However, the action was slow Saturday morning, and the evening was even slower. I saw a non-shooter six pointer but that was about it. A doe came near my blind but it spotted me in the blind...which is the last time I won't have a face mask on.  Sunday was even slower as I saw no deer all morning and when around 9:45, a youngster on a an ATV started driving up and down a nearby road, I decided it was time to go home.

I was hoping to go Tuesday morning because we have a school workday beginning at noon, but the forecast is for heavy rain...so I guess I will just have to wait a while.

Success on Opening Day of Virginia's Fall Turkey Season (Blog 363)

What an incredible morning on opening day of Virginia's fall turkey season. I had three flocks within 100 yards of me at dawn - too many it seems for me to decide what to do, which caused me to sit tight for several hours. That indecision caused me to wait several hours with the result being that all three flocks left for who knows where.

But one I started moving about, I encountered a flock of birds and ended up taking a hen from it. It is always a thrill to kill a turkey on opening day of the autumn season.

Turkeys and Deer All Around Me in Virginia Woods (Blog 362)

Saturday morning I went to a Botetourt County, Virginia cattle farm to bowhunt, and what a morning it was.  I saw nothing but squirrels until 8:45 when two yearling bucks and a flock of eight turkeys showed up the same time and came within 20 to 30 yards of my hang-on stand.

I was not interested in shooting either of the bucks (a 5 pointer and a 2 pointer), but I very much wanted to try to arrow a turkey. But there was just too many eyes on me.  Once, I started to raise my bow, but one of the turkeys spotted that little bit of movement, which resulted in all of them moving off to about 40 yards away.

Meanwhile, the 5 pointer stalked back and forth in front of me, just 10 yards away. He apparently sensed that something was not right about the area, but he wasn't quite sure just what. Finally, he and the smaller buck followed the turkeys up the mountain.

Who knows what I will see when I go to a different cattle farm this evening.

First Rutting Activity in Virginia Woods (Blog 361)

Sunday morning while bowhunting in Craig County, I witnessed my first rutting activity of this autumn. I watched a  2 1/2-year-old six pointer stroll up a mountain on a logging road. But when he reached a fork in the road, he was met by a 3 1/2-year-old eight pointer that was not pleased with the appearance.

The eight made an aggressive move on the six, then made a scrape on the road. The six pointer decided that the best thing to do was back off about 15 yards. The budding skirmish settled fairly amicably, the two then proceeded to walk up the mountain, the six pointer following discretely behind.

About half hour later, I arrowed a deer and was home for lunch, so it was a good morning.

Canning Venison and Peeling Crabapples (Blog 360)

Today was opening day of Virginia's archery season, and I was fortunate enough to kill a deer on land we own in Craig County. On the drive home, I pulled over and called Elaine and asked if this deer was the one she might want to can. Earlier, Elaine had talked about canning one of the deer I killed this year.

My wife said yes and after I finished removing the meat from the whitetail, and she finished cutting the meat up and placing it in a cooler (Elaine prefer to chill the meat overnight and work it up the next day), we planned out our Sunday. After we finish canning the venison, we will cut up the crabapples I gathered today, and we will make a cobbler.

If we still feel ambitious after those two acts, Elaine says we may make applesauce from some Jonathan apples. I really enjoy talking with her while we do those type things. It's a great way to spend a day together.

Deer Hunting in Virginia and West Virginia (Blog 359)

Last week, I struggled to see deer all week. This week, perhaps because the weather turned colder, sightings - and success - improved.  Thursday, I hunted after school in Roanoke County and killed a deer  during the Urban Archery season.  Then this morning, I drove to Monroe County, West Virginia and killed a nice, mature doe in the morning on that state's bow opening day. Two 25-minute hunts back to back.

I am pondering whether to go Sunday morning to Roanoke County again, but I may sleep in, too. I will check the wind in the morning and see what that is like before making a final decision.

Seeing the Same Young Four Pointer (Blog 358)

The last two Saturdays I have seen a fair number of deer, but the only whitetail that has presented a shot is a young four pointer that has shown up at the same time to my tree stand both mornings.  Of course, not only are bucks not legal this time of year in Roanoke County or in Virginia's Urban Archery season as a whole, this buck would be too small to shoot anyway.

The young buck appears to be feeling fairly good about himself, as he successfully head butted a button buck this morning. The latter seemed very intimidated, so Mr. Four Pointer definitely won that round.  From the looks of a rub near my stand, he may have a day of reckoning in the future.

Hawk Attacks Chicken Runs (Blog 357)

Elaine and I are often fascinated with the  behavior of our heritage Rhode Island Reds, and such was the case again a few days ago.  Late in the afternoon, I heard Don, our lone rooster, sound the alarm note, so I rushed outside to see what had happened.

I saw Don "high stepping" around in his run, and in the adjacent run, I observed that Mary and her two 14-week old pullets and cockerel, Don, Jr., had all run into their hen house.  Then I saw what looked like a Cooper's hawk fly away and Don let out another alarm note.

A good rooster, and Don is probably the best one we've ever had, will constantly be on guard and will fight to protect his flock.  Of course, with the netting over our two runs, the chickens were not in any danger.  Still, Don performed his job admirably.

I was a little dismayed that his offspring, Don, Jr., was cowering in the run with the hens.  But, Elaine said that he was still a cockerel, maybe he would grow into the role of protector.

First Deer of Virginia Season (Blog 356)

I really enjoy Virginia's Urban Archery season, and the chance to start bowhunting in early September.  But my first three outings were spent either not seeing deer or having the ones I did glimpse smell me and flee.

After striking out Saturday morning, I told Elaine I wanted to give the evening a try, though we were both skeptical of any success.  But at 5:50 P.M. while afield in Roanoke County, I saw four deer walking through a backyard about 80 yards away.

One of those does appeared before me at 6:10, and upon shooting my crossbow, I heard the resounding thump of a lung shot. Elaine and I spent about three hours Saturday evening butchering the deer and will finish the task on Sunday.  She likes to let the meat set up overnight in a cooler.

It's always a thrill to kill that first deer of the season

All Camouflaged Up and Nowhere to Go (Blog 355)

It's opening day of Virginia's Urban Archery season, and I should be in a tree stand in Roanoke County right now, but it has been raining most of the night, and the precipitation is expected to continue today.

Although I am going to go bowhunting on Sunday and Monday, there is nothing quite like going afield on opening day of any season. The expectation and the planning have both come to a head, and all that remains is to head for the woods.

So what am I going to do today?  I am working on a magazine story about deer and then reading a book about deer.  Those things will have to do on a rainy Saturday.

Preparing for Opening Day of Virginia's Urban Archery (Blog 354)

I am almost ready for next Saturday and the opening of Virginia's urban archery season. My Parker crossbow is sighted in, the hang-on stand is positioned, and shooting lanes have been cut on the Roanoke County parcel I am going to hunt on.

This weekend, I want to shoot a few more times with the crossbow, put my camo in a scent-free container, and pack a daypack. I am also waiting back to hear from another place in Roanoke County where I might could hunt on Labor Day Monday.

Today, I also told Elaine that she needs to wait around the house in case I kill a deer early next Saturday.  I hope we can butcher a whitetail later that morning.  One never knows, though, what the outcome will be in the deer woods.

Walking in the Dark (Blog 353)

One of the joys in my life is walking three miles in the dark before I head to teach high school English. If I time the morning ramble right, I can hear both night and morning birds before I return home to let out our Rhode Island Red chickens.

This morning, for example, while walking up our driveway I heard a barred owl on our creek bottom and the quaverings of a screech owl on the edge of our clearcut. A little while later, I harked to the hoots of a great-horned owl. I was hoping for the fourth member of the morning quartet to chime in - a chuck-wills-widow, but he was silent this morning.

On the way home as dawn began to break, I heard a towhee singing, though instead of his usual "drink your teaaaaa," he only made it to "drink your" before stopping. It is, afterall, August, far past prime singing time. Following the towhee were the usual suspects: Carolina wrens, catbirds, brown thrashers, cardinals, and robins.

As I walked down the driveway, I heard our rooster Don crowing - all was right with the world.

Scouting for Deer in Virginia Mountains (Blog 352)

Today, Elaine and I drove up into the mountains to our Craig County, Virginia land on Johns Creek to do some pre-season scouting, but mostly to check on the ladder stand and trim some shooting lanes. The ladder stand needed a new belt as the old one was quite worn and the proverbial accident waiting to happen.

I can't stand waiting until the week before bow season to check on stands, stand sites, and to cut shooting lanes.  Do those chores now and don't return until the season begins is my philosophy. I have three weeks before Roanoke County's urban archery season begins and then another month until the regular bow season begins.  I am looking forward to both seasons.

My first fiction novel, Ninth Grade Blues is Published (Blog 351)

Like many people, I've had many goals in life: marrying a great woman, having children and now grandchildren, being a high school English teacher, becoming an outdoor writer, and living out in the country on land where I could hunt and fish. Because of marrying Elaine, everything fell into place over time.

But I never had a goal of writing a novel, and to my continuing surprise, my first work of fiction, Ninth Grade Blues, came out a few days ago. It's a Young Adult novel, following the lives of four ninth graders, their hopes and dreams, successes and failures, their freshman year of high school. If you're interested in learning more, please contact me at bruceingramoutdoors@gmail.com. I wrote the book for students who don't particularly like school and who are often indifferent readers. Below is the cover.

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.