Homer Circle: A Legend Among Legends

HOMER CIRCLE

I’ve been a member of the Outdoor Writer’s Association of American since 1968, a year after I began writing outdoor magazine articles for Sports Afield and other major outdoor magazines. I needed a member to sponsor me for OWAA membership, and since Homer Circle, angling editor of that magazine was one of my favorites, I asked if he’d do me that favor.

Uncle Homer, as he was known to millions of anglers, quickly agreed. A month or two later, I was accepted as a member. A year later I attended my first OWAA annual conference, which was held in Duluth, Minnesota.

I attended my first conference that year and met the great man in person. We chatted about fishing, and over many years we became good friends. That friendship continued until last Friday when Homer Circle passed away at the age of 97. Now, more than four decades later, I could Homer’s sponsorships as a major highlight in my life.

Meet My Friend, HOMER CIRCLE
photo courtesy Bass Research Foundation

He had fished in many places, and written many magazine articles, but I remember Homer for one specific talk we’d had at a later OWAA conference.

We had covered each other’s lives, and caught imaginary fish together, and he was a walking encyclopedia of fishing information…  and a joker. He was known for telling some pretty corny jokes, but then we settled into our conversation, and it was one most people never share with others, but one that often drifts my way.

Death was the topic that day, one that rarely is discussed, and over many years we happened to drift back to cover our tracks. I’ve had such chats with John Voelker (Robert Traver), Dale Earnheart, Homer Circle, and several others. Homer led the way on this day, and it soon became apparent that he had given this topic great thought.

“I’m getting old,” he said, “and will be in my early 80’s this years. I expect I’ll have some of the normal miseries that come with old age.”

“Like what,” I asked, thinking that he was as sharp as a carpet tack.
“Ah, the usual things like arthritis, forgetting things, aches and pains in my body … that sort of thing. The brain is still working fine.”

“Sounds to me like the normal process of growing older.”

“I guess, but I’ve got all my plans laid out. My old buddy Tom Mann, and I have chatted about the hereafter, and for me, I’ve decided to be cremated. It’s a big decision, and I wanted to make certain everything is set right and proper before the need arises.”

“How so,” I muttered half aloud, wondering how a living legend went about setting up plans for his own death and cremation.”

“Tom and I have worked out a plan. Once they toast me up nice and proper and turn me into five pounds of ashes, Tom is going to mix up some of that goo he uses to make plastic worms. He is in charge of tossing my ashes in and stirring them up.”

And that’s where his story got more than a little interesting.

“Tom will set up a special fishing lure campaign. It will be called the Uncle Homer Fishing Program, and once these special worms are all cooked up with my ashes mixed in, he will make a news release.

“It will be called Uncle Homer’s Bassin’ Worm, and they will be made in several colors. On the outside of the package will be a picture of me, a short write-up, and an invitation to Take Uncle Homer Bass Fishing Again by buying and using these special worms to catch bass.”

“Uh, yea, I guess that would work,” I said. “I’d bet lots of people would buy those Uncle Homer-dosed-up lures.”
And then, the topic slowed to a stop and we began talking about other things. The odd thing is over the years that followed, the topic never came up again.

That was his story, and now we must wait to see if such a magical plastic worm comes onto the market or whether Homer Circle, with his marvelous sense of humor, was just telling another story and using himself as the focal point.

So, until we meet again up yonder, I’m still on a high lope, and can only say: Go With God, Homer. Millions of your fans and I will miss you, and, if Tom Mann makes such a lure, I’ll buy one and take you bass fishing again.

HOMER CIRCLE (1915-2012)

Antlers: Beautiful headgear

A buck with good mass is a sight to behold
photo Dave Richey ©2012

Granted, it’s only mid-June. A buck’s antlers are really starting to grow but we’ve got two months to go before we have any idea whether the buck will wear a small or wide rack
It's not that a basket-rack 8-point isn't pretty, because it most certainly is, but beauty is always in the eyes of the beholder. Some whitetail bucks simply have a great deal of class, and others do not. And now is the time to say it: what turns me on may not turn your crank.

Two things that make for a beautiful rack include overall mass and points. A buck with good mass is a sight to behold. Some people favor a typical rack, and they can be stunning with high points and a wide spread, but I really enjoy seeing a non-typical buck.

It’s a personal issue for most hunters, but for me, bucks that have antler bases that most bow hunters can't get their hand around are truly breathtaking. Such animals are old, and it’s the sheer massiveness of their antlers that makes us gasp in amazement.

Hunters all appreciate the majesty of a big rack of antlers.

Locating, and hunting nothing but one big buck, is one of bow hunting's greatest challenges. Finding the buck's home range is important, and then trying to pattern the animal can be a lengthy and time consuming effort, but when properly done and with some luck, the end result is a thing of wonder.

I will hunt any big buck I find. Some years are better for big bucks than others, but often I’ll locate at least one nice buck and sometimes I shoot him. A good buck avoided me two years ago, and the same happened again last fall when I fell off my back steps, but seeing a buck with that much mass and so many points, puts a fire in my belly.

Seeing the animal within bow range is the frosting on a bow hunter’s cake. Making a successful shot is nothing more than the icing on the cake.

I look for classy looking bucks. There is something about a symmetrical rack that is delightful to see, and there is something about those freaks of nature -- the non-typical -- that capture my attention as well. I also like really high racks as well.

Non-typical bucks have so much going on with their rack that it is difficult to make a really adequate assessment of size on short notice, and can lead to disappointment. I look for drop tines, kicker points, sticker points, out-of-balance racks with one side higher than the other. To me, deer with drop tines are really something special, especially if the drop point is long and/or thick.

One fairly common non-typical is one with double brow points on each side, and one look at such a buck gives the impression of Richard Nixon giving the peace sign with both hands. Double brows on one side are fairly common, and there are always a few bucks with double brow points on each side.  A fairly common non-typical may have a third main beam on one side but I’ve never seen one with two main beams on both sides.

A buddy saw a non-typical last year that was much higher on one side, had more points on that side, and he was an impressive looking animal even through his rack wouldn't have scored very high because the rack was so far out of balance.
There are a fair number of big, heavy, high and wide typical bucks that offer the viewer a huge thrill. These bucks have excellent mass, 10 or 12 points with very large G-2s and G-3s, a wide spread and there is little doubt among viewers that they are looking at a very special buck.
Most truly large-racked bucks are large bodied as well. The neck on some look as big around as a barrel. See one of these huge bucks, and the skin seems loose around the neck, and when the animal turns its head, the rolls of skin move with it.

Three-beamers have three main beams rather than two
photo Dave Richey ©2012

Good herd management give bucks more time to grow larger racks.

Time is the major reason why big bucks grow to such a large size. In reality, most hunters shoot the first buck with antlers they see. These 1 1/2-year-old bucks have tiny racks, and once they've been killed, there is never a chance for them to grow any larger.

Many hunters can feel free to disagree with me, but if most of us passed on these small bucks every year, and other hunters in the area did the same, within three years they would be seeing and shooting massive bucks.

Sportsmen who are content with shooting a small basket rack and continues  to shoot them, will never see a big-racked buck. Those who instead choose to shoot a doe are doing the right thing, but it's right only if everyone plays by the same rules. It is one reason why Quality Deer Management rules are effective; only large bucks qualify to be shot. That allows smaller bucks more time to grow high-quality racks.

Shooting a real trophy is a difficult thing to accomplish in this or any other state. One must either be very lucky or very good at hunting to pull off this trick more than once or twice during a lifetime of hunting.

And contrary to what the hosts of television hunting shows may say, a deer does not have horns. They have antlers, and they should know better.

Antlers begin growing in the spring before shedding the velvet and turning hard in the early autumn, Horns, such as those found on cattle and sheep, continue to grow through the life of the animal. There is no excuse for calling the headgear of whitetail deer by something can’t and don’t have. Deer have antlers, not horns.

Muskie Fishing’s Oldest Guide

BOB BRUNNER

Legendary is an honorary distinction bestowed only on a few fishing guides each year. It is an acknowledgement that a person has attained legendary status: a man who has made a visible impact on fishing over a period of many years.

The National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame in Hayward, Wisconsin awarded Bob Brunner of Utica, Michigan, this distinctive honor several years ago. He was inducted into the Hall as a Legendary Guide.

Competition among people who lobby for their nominees can be intense, and those who are granted this high status by the Hall's voting committee are richly deserving of such an honor.

A lifetime of muskie fishing on Lake St. Clair

Brunner has been a muskie-fishing guide on Lake St. Clair for many years. And, unlike other guides, he does his fishing in a most uncommon way on this great body of water near Detroit: he chooses to cast rather than troll, unlike 99.9 percent of the other muskie anglers on that fish-rich body of water between Lake Huron and Lake Erie.

"I've fished Lake St. Clair since 1929 and caught my first muskie in 1931 when I was six years old," Brunner told me. "Dad and I fished the lake every Sunday for many years, but now at the tender age of 89, I still have people ask me to teach them how to cast for muskies. I rarely troll for them because I feel I can get my clients into much bigger fish by working the weed beds where trolling is very difficult to do."

Bob Brunner with a 50-pound muskie he caught a few years ago

Lake St. Clair is, beyond any doubt, the best muskellunge lake in North America. There are more muskies per water surface area than anywhere in muskie country. This is why Brunner chooses to guide on this shallow lake. The chances of catching one of the big girls is better on Lake St. Clair than on any other lake that holds these grand game fish.
The largest muskies of all are always females. Male muskies do not grow as large as females, and they are what he fishes for.

"I have never run an ad and I'm still booked most of the season," Brunner said. "People come from all over to fish with me because they know I work hard to put them on big fish. If a person is willing to travel 50 or 2,000 miles to fish with me, it's my job to put them on a big fish so they will hopefully catch the muskellunge of a lifetime.”

He loves to fish for most game fish species but muskies are the love of his life. That is one reason he has written numerous books about how and where to catch Great Lakes muskellunge. Brunner has developed a strong cult following among muskie anglers, and his methods differ greatly from guides who troll.

"I want people to be able to catch these great fish and enjoy life as much as I have," he said. "My books are not all about muskie fishing but some of them are focused just on these great fish while some cover other species as well.  I believe my book, Casting: The Feast Or Famine Of Fishing, is my best work. It explains where to fish, which lures and methods to use and where to use them."

Brunner is the author of several muskie-fishing books

Sadly, most of his books are long out of print and are very collectible. I have a few duplicate copies, if anyone is looking for a copy. I don’t have duplicates of all of his books but do have several of the highly sought-after titles. Contact me at dave@daverichey.com

Brunner says his best times on the water are those spent teaching kids how to fish. He enjoys having kids on his boat, but as long as he can put someone into fish, he's in his glory.

His first business card said "On-water lessons available at reasonable rates." His first two clients were a father and son for the boy's 14th birthday. After they spent a few hours casting around several Anchor Bay areas, the kid hooked and landed his first muskie. It was a fat 40-incher caught on a spoon and the boy was hooked for life.

"I knew then that I had to get more children and their parents out fishing," he said. "So here I am, many years later, and still trying to get kids and people involved in this sport. I have been releasing muskies since the early 1970s.

"When I teach someone how to catch fish I feel I'm doing what the Big Guy wants me to do. The look on a kid's face while he tries to reel a 48-inch muskie to the boat is something that words cannot describe. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy to see a child so happy because he caught a fish where I said one would be. I feel blessed to have helped so many kids land their first muskellunge."

Brunner feels that muskie fishing has exploded over the past 15 years and it is hard to keep up with the many changes.  He feels saddest that now his life's journey is nearing its end he won't be able to fish the many other great muskie hotspots that he has fished over for so many years.

"I have met some really great people in my life and some have taught me some very valuable lessons," he said. "Two are the Richey brothers -- Dave and George. We lost George nearly nine years ago to cancer, and he was a great person and a skilled fisherman.

“George fished with me once a year for over 10 years. He taught me that we are all the same, and he was great company on the boat. He was one of the very few anglers that could beat me casting for the big girls."

Legendary guides aren’t common but Bob Brunner fits into this category

There is no doubt about it: Bob Brunner was well qualified for induction into the Hall of Fame as a legendary muskie-fishing guide. He rightfully deserves this recognition, and I look forward to fishing with him this fall for one of his "Big Girls."

I hope we can make our schedules fit. He is a special person in my life of muskie fishing. The fish in the photo above is of Brunner’s biggest muskie, one that weighed about 50 pounds.

It’s obvious there are more small muskies than big ones, but the one thing about muskie fishing is it is addictive. Catch one big fish, and doing so may turn an angler into a die-hard fisherman that lives for the next vicious strike from one of Brunner’s “Big Girls.” It’s a risk than many anglers are prepared to take when fishing with this Legendary Muskie Guide.

To Contact Bob:

• Bob Brunner - 2435 Dawes, Shelby Township, MI 48317
  Phone (586) 254-9209
  eMail muskiebobbarb@comcast.net

Searching for deep-water bluegills

Big-gills put a serious tug in your line and on your smile
photo courtesy Dave Richey ©2012

The tug from deep water was soft but easily identifiable as a strike. My rod tip bowed slightly toward the stern, and when I connected with the fish, there was an old and unmistakable feel I hadn't experienced in many years.

There was a good fish on my line, and it was putting up a fight equal to that of a fish twice its size. This wasn't a crank-'em-in thing; this was a scrap that required some finesse and skill on light line. It was no place for a heavy-handed angler.

This was on a Traverse City area lake that shall remain nameless for many reasons. A husband and wife team who read my daily blogs has told me about some of their catches. Their fishing method is the same as mine.

Pick a lake with bluegills, and that means any number of lakes in this area. Look for the deepest water with a fairly open lake bottom, and line up the boat with the prevailing breeze, and start drifting downwind.

Setting up to bottom-fish a lake is quite easy. The terminal rigging is simple.

Run six-pound line through a light egg sinker, tie it to one end  of a small barrel swivel. Tie a three-foot leader of four-pound-test, with a long-shank bronze No. 10 hook, and then tie the opposite end to other end of the barrel swivel.

Kids and crickets are a winning ticket for big gills

Hook a cricket, and lower it over the side and send the egg sinker and bait to the bottom. Tighten up the line, and if you can't feel bottom, let out more line. The cricket will float up slightly off bottom at a perfect depth for bottom-hugging 'gills.

Back when I was a kid, we called these big bluegills deep-water roach. The name is still heard in some areas, but they are nothing more than big bluegills that have learned to head for deep water once the spring spawn is over and the surface water warms up.

This means hunt-and-peck fishing. Bluegills often gather in certain deep-water locations, and it's up to the fisherman to find them. A slow wind drift works perfectly. Let out enough line to keep the egg sinker bumping along bottom.

Light line means just one thing; within reason, the lighter the line, the more bluegills you'll hook, but a big 'gill on two-pound line may be lost unless the ultimate in care is used while fighting the fish. Four-pound or six-pound line may produce slightly fewer hook-ups but an angler has a better chance of landing fish.

The secret means slow-drifting with your bait bumping bottom. Bluegills usually tap-tap the bait, and then pull the rod-tip down. Set the hook gently, and be prepared for a spirited fight.

The fish will try to stay deep, and will turn broadside to the pull of the line, and it is a battle all the way to the boat. A slow drift is preferable to a fast trip down the lake because it becomes too difficult to keep the bait nudging bottom where the larger 'gills will be found.

The middle of the lake often is good, and bull bluegills with the pug noses are usually caught in 20 to 30 feet of water. Fish along the outside edges of weed beds, and keep prospecting for fish. It may be likely that all the big fish will be concentrated in one small section of the lake.

Deep water is the bull-bluegill hotspot to seek, but limit your take

Anglers who find a bull-bluegill hotspot in deep water should never keep a limit. It takes years for a bluegill to grow to 10 to 12 inches, and a lake can literally be cleaned out of big 'gills in a season by a greedy fisherman.

Keep one or two, and if it's lots of fish you want to eat, work the shallower water for a bunch of six-inchers. They are better to eat than the big fish, and you'll be doing the lake a favor by removing some of the small but competitive and hungry  fish.

Not all lakes hold big bluegills. In fact, an angler may wind-drift a dozen bluegill lakes before finding one that holds a decent number of big 'gills. Once you find such a spot, keep it as secret as one would their favorite grouse or woodcock coverts or a secret beaver pond where foot-long brook trout are caught.

Lakes with a fishable number of deep-water roach are something to protect from greedy fishermen. Anglers who find such a lake are duty-bound to keep their silence and never speak of big bluegills around anyone. Never take and show photos of big 'gills, and never fish it very often.

To do otherwise is to destroy the very thing that made this inland lake so desirable to you and the fish. It's the personal ego stroke that leads to heavy catches that soon dwindle down to nothing.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Big buck but no shot

Big bucks require more patience than many hunters think

The big buck appeared like a ghost from a bad dream. One minute there was nothing nearby, and the next found me looking at a 150-class whitetail buck.

This was three years ago, and he was 75 yards away, moving in my general direction through the fringe of a swampy wooded area. He moved slowly and cautiously, the way big bucks do once they've been shot at.

This big boy was an old buck, and I saw him once the year before but such thoughts often leave something to the imagination. My guess was he was 5 1/2 years old, and had survived this long by being smarter than the average buck and the average bow hunter.

OK, so it’s almost summer; I still relive some of my big-buck dreams

He tested the wind constantly, stood for long minutes checking things out before committing to a move, and I knew where he was heading. A nearby corn field had been half picked, and the owner hoped to get all of the field harvested before the predicted weekend rain fell.

The buck nosed the ground, following the track made by an unseen deer for 10 yards before turning back on his course toward the corn. At this pace, it would reach the dinner table just after dark.

The question was whether he would reach me or pass out of range through marsh grass and scrub brush before shooting time ended. A doe came squirting out of the marsh grass, moving away from the buck. The rut was in full-drive; she was nervous; but he didn't pursue her.

His intentions seemed quite clear: reach the corn field right at dark, feed, terrorize the younger bucks and young does, and be back bedded down before daylight broke across the land.

He kept coming, and was soon 60 yards away.  I've shot many bucks over the years, but this one was too grand an animal to try such an unwarranted shot in fairly thick cover. I never shoot at a buck that I'm not 100 percent confident of killing.

My bow was in my hand, and this was the largest buck I'd seen lately, but he would either come close enough for a slam-dunk easy shot or he'd continue on about his business out of bow range.

He eventually reached the edge of thick cover, and would move through more open upland woods ... if he stayed his course. He would move out of the heavy cover and into the open, and then duck back in the cover, zigzagging ever closer to me.

He minced along like he had sore feet, and stopped every few steps. He was now 35 yards away, but still in heavy cover when his heavy white antlers could be seen. In fact, it was one glimpse of white antlers going up and down as he rubbed a tree that first caught my attention.

Patience, it’s been preached, is one key to autumn success

The wind was swinging a bit from north to northwest, and then he turned and seemed to move closer toward me. That turned out to be an illusion as he walked around a wind-toppled tree.

My watch showed there was  but 10 minutes of shooting time left, and he was now at 30 yards but still five yards inside thick cover. The suspense continued to build with each step he took, and the big question was whether he would start sliding toward the more open part of the funnel or stay back where it was thick.

I'd shot a number of bucks from this spot, and all of them had walked into the thin part of the cover. One spot offered a 20-yard open shot but he was still 25 yards from it.

The clock was ticking, and even though I've shot bucks at this distance over many years, each one is a new adventure. Honestly, the wait is an adrenaline-filled rush. He stepped forward, almost to the edge of the thin cover, and I'm glancing at my watch.

There was five minutes left, and two more steps would put him into the natural opening where I'd have an easy broadside shot. He put his head down, rocked on his feet, but didn't move forward.

My bow was up, and I was ready to draw, but still he stood, rooted in one spot. And he was still standing there, two steps from a clean shot, when shooting time ran out.

He was so close, and yet so far away, and he stood there for 10 more minutes before moving on toward the corn field. It was a wonderful hunt, filled with heart-pounding excitement right up until the end, and after he moved off, I headed home.

Knowing that buck is there was important. I never shot him, but I never heard that anyone did shoot him. I will hunt him again. He is too big to ignore but one wonders. Bucks in this area are like circuit-riding preachers from the Old West, and there is always the troubling thought of never seeing him again.

We never know when a big buck will appear but we must be ready

Time will tell. If I never see him again, I'll feel blessed to have seen him once on one snowy November day. And sometimes, as hunters, we must be content with these little teases.

Now, it's important to wait for the next one. And that, my friends, is one big reason why hunting big bucks is fun. We don't always connect, but to have these experiences tells us we're doing something right. Now I must reposition a tree stand a bit closer to the heavy cover in hopes the deer decides to move just a bit earlier.

One can always hope.