My Day as a Squirrel Hunting Guide (Blog Sixty-eight)

I spent all day Saturday taking youngsters and their parents squirrel hunting on the 38 acres behind our house.  I was working on several articles about young hunters, and our place is usually overrun with squirrels.

Not yesterday, though.  In the morning, I took a father and son hunting.  The wind howled, the trees shook, and the squirrels hunkered in their dens.  We only saw two squirrels all day, and they were in the process of fleeing from us.

That evening, Elaine and I hosted two parents and their daughter and son.  The dad and daughter went to one end of the property, the mom, son, and I went to the other.  Results similar to the morning were the result.

The whole, misbegotten day set me thinking about the vagaries of hunting.  I once went squirrel hunting with a wildlife biologist in the Jefferson National Forest.  The gentleman had picked the locale because of its bountiful supply of bushytails.  We never saw one all day.

Two things are certain after yesterday.  One, my career as a squirrel guide is seriously in jeopardy. And two, I expect to see hordes of bushytails every time I walk out the door today to tend to the chickens today.

Deer Season Over (Blog Sixty-seven)

Yesterday, deer season concluded and I was fortunate to kill a doe during the last half hour of the late muzzleloader season.  I started the season in September by bowhunting in Alleghany County, North Carolina and finished it yesterday in Franklin County, Virginia.  I ended up killing 10 deer, 9 in Virginia and 1 in West Virginia.

Elaine and I don't buy any meat from a store, so freezing a good supply of venison is essential for our 2012 food supply.  We easily eat 8 or 9 deer every year, plus share some with family and friends. 

It is always sad when deer season ends, as it has been such a big part of my life outdoors for the past 3 1/2 months.  On the other hand, I am going squirrel hunting next Saturday and am looking forward to the change of pace.  I also have to give two smallmouth bass seminars this month and that too will be a nice change.

Meanwhile, today, I have to clean much of my deer hunting gear, much of it has been piled onto my work room bed - and that is a real mess.  Today, for lunch Elaine and I are dining on venison tenderloin and wineberry pie - celebrating the bounty of the season.  Then it will be time to clean the chicken coop and let our birds free range in the yard for several hours.

Best Christmas Present Ever (Blog Sixty-six)

Last Sunday, Elaine gave me the best Christmas present I have ever received - a fly that she tied herself and that came from a feather from a turkey I called in and killed.  I am not ashamed to admit that my eyes became misty when I found her creation in my Christmas stocking.

A little over  three years ago, Elaine was diagnosed with breast cancer.  As part of her recovery, she attended a Casting for Recovery (www.castingforrecovery.org) retreat in 2010.  CFR is a national organization that offers retreats for women with or recovering from breast cancer. Those retreats combine fly fishing, counseling, medical expertise, and breast cancer recovery.  It was at a CFR retreat that my wife learned how to fly fish and tie patterns.

The joy of having Elaine healthy again and with me during Christmas is something that is hard to express.  The joy of her taking the time to hand tie something for me, especially combining two activities that I enjoy - river smallmouth bass fishing and turkey hunting - is equally inexpressible.

What a wonderful person and wife.

Christmas Eve at Home (Blog Sixty-five)

Yesterday, Friday, was my first day off school for the holidays, and I eagerly went to muzzleload hunt for deer in Bedford County.  Arriving around 10:00 A.M, I went with the landowner as he showed me the best places to hunt on his property as this was the first time I had been there to pursue whitetails.

After taking a stand, I proceeded to fall asleep three different times in the first two hours I was there, which made me realize how exhausted I was from teaching school, writing, and going hunting every chance I had for the past three-plus months.  So at 2:30, I decided to go home and by 6:30, I had gone to bed.

Today, Saturday and Christmas Eve, I spent part of the day cleaning the chicken coop, putting wood in the garage for the winter, and cutting up a downed ash tree.  But mostly I just rested.  Sometimes that is what I need to do instead of pushing myself all the time.

Tomorrow, Elaine's and my son and daughter and her husband will gather for Christmas brunch and presents.  And per Sarah's wishes, I will have a fire going in the stove.

Thanks for reading this year.

Chicken Delight (Blog Sixty-four)

It was almost a year ago that I broached the subject to Elaine that we should try to raise chickens.  Understandably, in our then 32 1/2 years of marriage, she felt that my suggestion was made in jest as we had never even had pets let alone farm animals.

Now we are the proud owners of five egg bearing Rhode Island Red hens and their guardian Little Jerry.  Recently we have begun discussing how to make the sextet's lives more interesting, as they have consumed all the grass in their run.  This morning, Elaine had the idea of depositing a bale of straw inside the run.

So after I gathered the morning's eggs and cast about their daily treat of Cheerios, I hauled the straw inside the run.  The chickens immediately left their cereal and raced toward the bale. Predictably, Ruby, who will hop up or fly onto anything, first flew up to the bale and soon all members of our flock were busily pulling and scratching at the bale.

We expect the entire mass of straw to be levelled in a day or two.

The Magic of Morning (Blog Sixty-three)

I have been mentoring beginning hunters this season and have really enjoyed not carrying a gun.  This morning friend Doak Harbison and I arrived at a Franklin County winter rye field and watched the sun come up and the night creatures be replaced by those of the day - with some overlapping.

From before sunrise until 7:40, we listened as two great horned owls belted out their "hoo, hoo-hoo," continuing their contest concerning which was the most dominant until well over 30 minutes past sunrise.  I found the verbal battle fascinating as I have infrequently heard the great horned continue so long past sunrise.

Of course, the reason for this duel is that the mating season is in full swing for this species.  Egg laying can begin sometime in January, and the males obviously have to settle issues about mates and territories long before then.

Joining the owls in a cacophony of sound was a mob of crows which chose sunrise as the time to harass a hawk of an indeterminate species.  The outcome was as  it usually is in such matters, that is, more and more crows rushing to the hubbub, more and more raucous cawing, ended finally by the raptor taking wing for a quieter neighborhood.  Of course, the hawk will likely be back tomorrow and the whole issue will have to be discussed anew, but not likely settled.

We went home without a deer, but the morning was a glorious and memorable one.

 

Two State Strike Out (Blog Sixty-two)

Every autumn, I seem to end up going afield in two states in the same day, and today was one of those days - indeed this was the second time this season it has taken place.  Back in October, I went turkey hunting in West Virginia in the morning and bowhunting in Virginia in the evening.  This act was fairly easy in that I went turkey hunting in Monroe County which borders Craig County where I went bowhunting.

That two-state adventure actually worked out quite well, as though I failed to kill a turkey in West Virginia, my friends and I did work a flock of jakes.  And that evening, I killed a Craig County deer while bowhunting.  So my success rate was an acceptable 50 percent.  I have this dream of killing big game animals in two different states in the same day, but that accomplishment still eludes me - and today was no exception.

During my morning hunt in Carolina, I did not even see a deer.  I then arrived home to see my favorite basketball teach, North Carolina, suffer a one-point defeat to Kentucky.  Then I took my son Mark hunting with the hope that he would kill a deer.  But as was the case in North Carolina, we did not even see a deer.

So my favorite basketball team lost and I drove several hundred miles through two states and never saw a deer - not a good day.

Great Thanksgiving Hunting (Blog Sixty-one)

The hunting for my family and me could not have been any better on Thanksgiving Day.  That morning, my son-in-law David found a deer that he had shot late Wednesday evening.  Meanwhile I went fall turkey hunting on a Botetourt County farm where the landowner had assured me that I would be the only one afield.  Normally, I don't like to turkey hunt on Thanksgiving Day given the fact that so many others will be deer hunting.

But since I had the farm to myself, I went out after turkeys and at 7:35 A.M., I called in and killed a jenny.  Later that day my son Mark drove to a nearby Botetourt County farm, where the plan/hope was for only Mark to be hunting and for him to kill his first ever deer.  At 4:55 that evening, Mark did just that, a very satisfying event for the both of us.

Elaine even was involved with the day's events.  As she was assisting me in the cleaning of the turkey, I asked her if she would make me a river smallmouth-type fly out of one of the feathers - and that she include the fly in my Christmas stocking.

Who knows, maybe I will catch a smallmouth next summer with a fly made from a feather from a turkey killed on Thanksgiving morning.  Again, what a memorable day.

Don't Hire Me as a Guide (Blog Sixty)

Every year, several individuals ask me if I can take them on a guided fishing or hunting trip.  I think there are several reasons this happens.  The first is that three of my four books on river smallmouth fishing have the word guide in them, and the second is that because I am an outdoor writer, I guess some people assume that I am a guide or that I can guide them to success.

Neither assumption is true.  In fact, I have a terrible record as an informal guide on hunting trips with friends and family.  Today, opening day of Virginia's firearms season, was a good example of why this is true.

This morning I took friend Doak Harbison on his first deer hunt.  The outing was at a Franklin County farm where I typically see more deer and have more success than any other farm that I have permission to be afield on.  Before sunrise, I brought Doak to a stand site that I had hunted twice last year and had killed deer there both times.  Also, my son-in-law David had hunted there three times this year and last and had tagged does  on two of those occasions.

Thus, I had taken Doak to a place where 80 percent of the time it had been hunted, a hunter had gone home successfully and 100 percent of the time deer had been spotted.  Furthermore, the landowner had told me that locale was a hot one this year.

The result: Doak and I stayed on stand from before sunrise until around noon - a solid 5 1/2 hours - and never saw a deer...or a squirrel...or a game animal of any kind.

Again, don't hire me as a guide.

Deer Hunting Doldrums (Blog Fifty-nine)

My son-in-law David and I spent the entire Saturday muzzleload hunting for deer on family land in Craig County - and had nothing to show for it.  At least David had an excuse, he saw no whitetails the entire day.  I, on the other hand, saw two.

The first doe came by at 7:40 A.M., and quite simply, I blew the shot.  I am still not sure what I did wrong, but the last David and I saw the doe that I shot at, she was walking calmly up the mountain.

Once while at a fishing event, a crowd member came up to me, introduced himself, and told me the thing he liked best about reading my magazine stories  was my writing about the blunders I make while afield either fishing or hunting.  "You sure seem to make a lot," the guy chuckled as he left.

Well, now, sometimes it surely feels that I do make more than my share of snafus.  The second and final doe sighting of the day was at 12:45, not the typical time one expects to observe whitetails.  The doe was within range, but I never had a killing shot, so I never fired.

The high point for the rest of the day was observing a fox squirrel feeding nearby, interesting because it featured a black face and black feet. 

I can't wait to hunt before school on Monday.

Turkey Eggs (Blog Fifty-eight)

We are enjoying the bounty of eggs, finding five in the next box on most days.

However, this week we were able to try out something a bit different.  A co-teacher of Bruce’s has both chickens and turkeys, and the turkeys seem to be seasonally confused at the present, laying in abundance.  So Bruce came home one day with four turkey eggs for us to sample.

They were quite attractive- larger than our hens’ eggs and barely fitting in the egg carton niches, and a lovely cream color speckled with dark brown – reminding me of the spatter painting I did as a child using a toothbrush and screen wire.  I wanted to keep the eggs as a display, so I pierced each end with a knitting needle, then blew the contents into a bowl for scrambled eggs…. a good way also to do a taste comparison.

The yolks were a paler yellow than our girls’, and the scrambled eggs had what I would describe as a creamy taste, almost as if cream cheese had been added.  Four eggs made three sandwiches, a bit larger amount than four hen eggs would have provided.

And now the empty shells have been added to our “Poultry Museum” of household décor.

Best Wife Ever (Blog Fifty-seven)

There are so many reasons I love Elaine, and several of them manifested themselves today.  October 29 was opening day of Virginia's fall turkey season, and I asked Elaine to do my morning chicken rituals (bringing food and water to Little Jerry and his hens) so that I could go hunting.  Of course, she did so willingly.

Later while she was at a Tupperware party, or whatever those things are called that ladies go to where one lady hosts a function and other ladies buy things from her, I called her to come home and take pictures of me with the turkey I had called in and killed.  Of course, she did so willingly.

But it is not just Elaine's sweet nature that is so appealing about her; she also has a delightful sense of humor.  When we walked out to the backyard and woods to take pictures of the turkey and me, Violet, our most vocal hen, began squawking at me.

"Relax, Violet," quipped Elaine.  "That turkey is nobody you know.

Tomorrow, Sunday, Elaine will spend several hours cooking for me...on the menu is venison tenderloin and cherry cobbler (from our organic cherry tree - the berries which I picked and Elaine pitted - she had the much harder job).  And, of course, as always her lunch will be sublime.

Four Egg Days (Blog Fifty-six)

While Bruce went hunting on Saturday, I spent a great deal of time with the chickens.  Our five hens are developing a four-a-day habit, since Ruby and Little Spotty Hen are laying.

The first time we found a fourth egg in the nest we became quite excited and discoursed long and hard on who was responsible, Little Spotty or Ruby?  A week went by before a fourth egg appeared again.   And again we wondered.  Now another week has passed, and almost every day we find a fourth egg, distinctly different in size and color from the other three.  Number four is quite a bit smaller and paler in color, and is often more speckled compared to the jumbo sized rich brown eggs of the “big girls,”  Tallulah, Dot, and Violet.

Bruce is convinced Little Spotty is the responsible party, but unless we catch them in the act we might never be sure.  And if we go out too soon to the coop and disturb a chicky sitting in a nesting box, we feel quite guilty as they chastise us severely with lots of squawking and feather flapping.  Once we have a “Five Egg Day” all doubts about who is doing what will be cleared up for good.   

Ruby or Little Spotty Hen? (Blog Fifty-five)

Last May 4, Elaine and I began our chicken rearing career when we received 10 straight run chicks from the local Southern States.  As is common, two chicks perished within five days, and we raised the remaining eight chicks to maturity, along the way learning that six of the eight were roosters.

To supplement the female contingent, consisting of just Ruby and Little Spotty Hen, we purchased chickens that Elaine (she names all of our chickens) named Tallulah, Dot, and Violet.  Elaine said Tallulah received her moniker because of her big, white tail, Dot hers because of a white dot on her back, and Violet her appellation because "she's no shrinking violet." In short, Violet is constantly whining, clucking, or yapping about something being almost as vocal as our sole remaining rooster, Little Jerry.

On August 18, our new trio of hens began laying, depositing two eggs in one of the nesting boxes, and have been doing a great job ever since.  In fact, most days we find three eggs there, indicating that every one of the trio is doing her share.

This past Thursday was like every other day, as three medium size dark brown eggs were laid in the nesting box before noon.  But around 5:30 that evening, I found a small, light brown egg at the upper corner of our chicken run near the solar powered station.

Apparently, either Ruby or Little Spotty Hen has produced her first egg.  As of today, neither has taken credit nor has one or the other produced another egg.  Elaine and I are all anticipation about how many eggs will be found on Sunday.

A Long - and Fascinating Day - of Bowhunting (Blog Fifty-four)

Saturday, I spent almost an entire day in a Craig County black oak, bowhunting for deer.  The only time I debarked from the tree was between 1 and 3:00 P.M. when I went to my vehicle to rest, eat, and call Elaine.

And during that time aloft, I never loosed an arrow, although between 4:30 and 6:40, I had nine different deer around me.  There's an old saying that "close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," and close certainly doesn't count in bowhunting.  The deer just wouldn't come within the self-restricted 20-yard range that I have with my Matthews Switchback compound.  They stayed on the opposite side of the logging road that I was set up along (picture below) and just wouldn't cross to my side.

And, yes, I was frustrated and exhausted at the end of the day from being constantly ready to prepare to shoot but never doing so.  But the day was not a bad one.  Before the deer arrived, I observed a number of fascinating events.  Two mature turkey hens and I engaged in chatter, the three of us purring, clucking, and yelping at each other, but they never came within bow range either.

Later, a raven came flying in and perched right above, until it became alarmed at the blob, me, below it.  Several hours later a red-tailed hawk did the same thing, terrorizing the chipmunk population before the raptor, too, became alarmed at my outline.

I didn't sleep well thinking about the missed opportunities.  This afternoon, I am returning to that Craig County property and moving my treestand to the opposite side of the logging road.

Bowhunting Blunders (Blog Fifty-three)

Yesterday was the first day of Virginia's bow season for deer, and I committed a series of blunders, making me think that I wasn't quite ready for prime time.  My first snafu started around 5:25 A.M. when I had one last task to complete before hopping in the Xterra and leaving to hunt in Craig County.  All I had to do was put on my safety harness.

 I don't like putting on a harness in the dark at the base of a tree because I always seem to become entangled in all the various belts.  I struggled for a good five minutes trying to put on the harness before giving up and waking up Elaine.  She was not amused at my incompetence at such an early hour, but as always she sweetly helped me put on the device.  I am so fortunate to be married to her.

My next mishap took place at the base of the red oak where I wanted to position my treestand in the dark.  While I was putting on my headlamp in preparation for ascending, somehow the battery compartment opened and spilled its contents onto the forest duff.  I spent several precious minutes groping along the ground for the batteries, before giving up the search.

I didn't have a spare headlamp so I was forced to put my flashlight in my mouth and put up the stand with the aid of that light. I began to fear that the outing was going to be one of those proverbial bad days.

With all of those blunders and time loss, I was not secured in my treestand until 7:11 A.M., a good half hour later than I had intended.  But at 7:18, a mature doe ambled by, I loosed an arrow, the shot was good, and I was home for lunch.  Sometimes it truly is better to be lucky than good.

First Deer of Season (Blog Fifty-two)

Saturday while hunting the last day of West Virginia's early muzzleloader season, I killed my first deer of the season - a mature and very hefty Mason County doe.  Normally when I kill a deer, it is because I have done extensive scouting and pondered where and when to take a stand.

This time, however, I must give thanks to Chris Walls of Cross Lanes and his dad Morris who lives near Beckley.  Chris, director of public relations for the Warner Law Offices in Charleston and who also operates Beyond the Backyard, a popular program for youth interested in the outdoors, made the initial contact of the Mason County landowner who owned the property.  And then Morris scouted out the property before I arrived and instructed me where to set up.

Next month, I hope to repay the favor to the father and son team when I take them turkey hunting in Monroe County on opening day of the fall season.  When folks go out of the way to help a fellow hunter be successful, it is the least that we can do to repay that kindness.  I'll let you know next month how we did.

Meanwhile, Elaine and I spent much of Saturday night and Sunday afternoon turning the whitetail into packages of venison for the winter.  For the first time, Elaine canned some venison (picture below) which we have heard makes for great soups.  And tomorrow, I will have venison heart sandwiches (whole wheat bread, hard cheddar cheese, brown bread) for my school day lunch.

For more information: www.beyondthebackyard.org.

Wild Black Walnuts (Blog Fifty-one)

This afternoon I gathered wild black walnuts from a tree that grows in our woods.  Last September and October, I neglected to forage for these nuts and spent the rest of the fall and winter regretting it.

Walnuts, especially the ones that grow wild, have a taste like no other nut.  To be sure, I enjoy eating domestic walnuts, often having them in my morning oatmeal.  But the nutmeat of the wild variety has an intensity all its own.  Indeed, it is almost as if one wild black walnut has twice the, well, nuttiness, the heartiness of flavor, jammed into it that two domestic walnuts would.

In a month or two, after the walnuts season for a while, I will remove the outer husks (while wearing gloves of course) taking care not to let them stain my clothes or hands.  Then I will wait another week or two, then remove the shells.

The remaining nutmeat will be used to season persimmon bread, paw paw pudding, and of course my oatmeal.  Elaine will also use the nutmeat for her other homemade breads.

Other wild nuts taste great, for example the ones from mockernut and shagbark hickories especially, but none can compare to the black walnut.

In Praise of the Western Virginia Land Trust (Blog Fifty)

Next Sunday, Elaine and I will be at the annual September meeting of the Western Virginia Land Trust where I will be doing a benefit book signing, donating $2.50 off every book sold to the WVLT.  A canoe trip on the James River with me will also be auctioned as part of a fundraiser.

It always makes me nervous to be "auctioned off," as my fear is that no one will bid for my services.  Of course, nothing, I would guess, could be worse, auction-wise, than to be a male or female being auctioned off as a date and have no one bid on an evening with you. 

Still, I am always relieved when, after the bidding concludes, someone comes up to me and informs that they are the lucky winners of a canoe outing with me.  We exchange phone numbers and e-mails and tentatively plan an excursion for the following summer.

The WVLT is an outstanding organization that does wonderful work  by saving rural land through conservation easements.  Elaine and I have placed 392 acres in Craig County under conservation easements and we are very glad that we have done so. 

For more information on the WVLT and the benefits of conservation easements: www.westernvirginialandtrust.org.

Preparing for Bow Season(Blog Forty-nine)

September is the month when the impending arrival of bow season for deer takes on a sense of urgency.  I begin practicing with my Matthews Switchback every year on or around July 4.  But in the ninth month, other preparatory acts begin as well.

Yesterday, I went to a Botetourt County cattle farm where I have permission to bowhunt and placed stand steps in a hardwood.  That particular tree grows in a place where deer activity is heavy every October when Virginia's season begins.  The spot is both a natural funnel and where a grove of white and red oaks have been thinned so that only the best mast producers still stand.

I should see plenty of whitetails there next month.  Whether I kill one or not is really up to my skills and whether a deer happens to come into range.

This morning I practiced with broadheads on my arrows, saving the ones that flew accurately and culling one that did not.  Later this week, I will check tree stands, safety harnesses, and do some more scouting in places where I have permission to be afield.

I will also make a list of every item that I will be taking afield on my first bowhunt.  One can't start too soon to be ready for opening day.