10/29/09_droblog_Wounded Deer Do Not Always Die

Many years ago I was hunting a local area, and I kept seeing a really nice buck. I had a strong feeling that something was wrong with the animal but had no visible clues.

I glassed it with binoculars and even a spotting scope, studied it from all angles, and didn't want to waste my tag on it if the buck had been wounded. There was no noticeable limp, no legs dragging, and no apparent sign the buck was hurt in any way.

Still, a niggling thought kept coming back to me: this buck is hurt. Should I shoot it?

A tough question to answer

There were too many questions and no logical answers. The next day I sat in a tree stand overlooking a nearby trail. I'd seen the buck travel both ways on this trail, and the only thing that I hung my suspicions on, was the fact that this buck seemed to move too slowly to be in good health.

I'd been in my tree stand for an hour when I saw him walk out of a marsh. Tall marsh grass covered  most of his body but beautiful points stood high above his head. He moved very slowly, and didn't appear to favor either leg, but the more I watched him, they greater my feelings that this buck was in pain. The noticeable hump on the right front shoulder was difficult to see back inn heavy cover.

He approached my stand, and the wind was in my favor. He hung back, and two or three does and fawns, squirted past my stand, and he stood motionless for 10 minutes. The other deer were out of sight when he decided to step out into the open.

Each step was slow and methodical, a study in caution. He stayed screened by brush for long minutes as he took a step or two, stopped and studied the terrain all around him. He acted as if he had been shot at before by a bow hunter, and wasn't taking any chances of it happening again.

Apparently satisfied, he took two or three more steps, and exposed his vitals to a broadside shot. I waited, and he turned his head in the direction that the does and fawns had traveled, and I eased back to full draw and made a smooth release.

Taking the shot

The Carbon Express arrow sliced in low behind his front shoulder, hitting the heart and lungs, and his back legs kicked backward as it appeared to hump up slightly, and off he ran out of sight. I heard the buck go down, and it was a simple trailing job. I followed the Game Tracker line, and found the buck dead 70 yards away.

I field dressed the animal, and the meat near his shoulder was green. I kept skinning him out on that side, and the more hide I removed, the more green tissue I found.

This deer had gangrene all through its body, and even though there was no reason to suspect it was ill, a further autopsy proved the cause. The buck had been hit high in the shoulder, and the three-blade replaceable-blade broadhead had broken apart on impact.

The hunter who had originally shot the buck had been hunting from a tree stand, and the broadhead had penetrated until the replaceable blades impacted on the top of the shoulder blade. I kept skinning, and eventually found the tip and three bladess buried under the hide.

Gangrene had set in

The buck had been hit several days before, and it was in a spot where the animal couldn't lick the wound, and it just kept getting sicker by the day. The hunter couldn't recover the buck because the arrow wound wasn't that bad, but as time went on, a major infection set in.

This buck walked normally, didn't favor the leg on that side, and it wasn't the broadhead that would have eventually killed that buck if I hadn't shot it, but it was slowly dying from a nasty infection.

The buck was useless to me or anyone else, and I informed the DNR about the animal, and they said to leave it to the coyotes. I took photos of the broken broadhead, and two days later the coyotes had reduced the carcass to bones and hair and saved that animal from being eaten alive.

A deer, hit in a non-vital area that it can lick and keep clean, will almost always survive. It's such animals as this that become almost impossible to hunt. I've killed many deer that have been wounded by other people, and in many cases the deer would have survived.

A wounded deer doesn't always die. In fact, studies have shown that if blood loss is kept to a minimum, and no internal organs or major blood vessels are cut, the chances of a successful recovery are good. However, minor flesh wounds will heal quickly and often within a week or less, the animal will be up and moving around.

Know this, though A deer that recovers from an arrow wound is one savvy animal. Shooting and killing that deer can be a supreme hunting challenges of all.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

More To Hunting Than Killing

It's become something of a habit for me. Once the fall hunting season heads into its second month, there's a good chance that once a day I'll remember another hunt from the past where a big buck was taken or an opportunity was lost for one reason or another.

It's this ability to recall past hunts, successful or not, that allow us to wallow through nine months of not hunting deer with a bow. It's rather easy to look at one of the big bucks on my wall, relax, kick back, and dredge up a fond memory or two to help me through the day.

There was a big buck running around my hunting area several years ago, and he was as regular as a dish of prunes. The problem was he was back in thick cover, and would eventually leave it. Each time he stepped out, he was in a slightly different location than days before.

 Hunting a very good buck

All too often he was just a bit too far away for a clean shot, and shooting that 10-pointer wouldn't have been easy. My decision to wait until he exited the tag alders within 20 yards was an easy one to make because I couldn't and wouldn't take a bad shot.

Day after day I'd see him. Sometimes he was close but 10 feet back in the tags, and the next day he would be 65 yards away. I believe he bedded in those alders, and moved around a bit  each day. Deer don't always bed down in the same location, and this guy championed the art of bedding and exiting tags in a different spot from day to day.

This buck was a tempting rascal but I'd hunt other blinds to avoid becoming patterned at this nearby spot. I was always downwind of him, but it was always just before shooting time ended when he stepped out. I felt he occasionally would make his move a little earlier, and it was a matter of being there when he did. Hopefully, his move would let him step out, and take several steps that may put him within range.

Once I saw his high and wide rack, all glistening white, coming through the tag alders. If he stayed his course, he would come out only 18 yards away and in a perfect location for a good shot.

Looking for a shot

His head swiveled  back and forth as he tested the wind, studied the nearby terrain that day, and his ears were cocking forward and to each side in hopes of getting an early warning of possible danger. He was 4 1/2 years old, and had had many opportunities to practice his moves before coming out to feed.

He kept coming at a very slow pace. There was no hurry-up in this guy. Each move was a well managed lesson in tactical survival. He'd take a step, stop, stand motionless for a minute or two, and then take another cautious step or two.

The buck would hold his head high, lower it to change the angle of his gaze, and move again. He had all the patience of a stalking alley cat, and moved as if he was ready to bolt at any second. Bolting wasn't what I wanted him to do, but sometimes these things happen.

Suddenly he stopped, and gazed hard at something nearby. A big mature doe had walked out of the brush on the other side of my stand, and was standing there, watching the buck. Live decoys like this doe that had appeared out of nowhere can be a good thing. As long as she doesn't spook, he may come closer.

The buck was upwind of me and the doe, and she wasn't going to walk over and introduce herself, so the only course of action was for the buck to move toward her. He made a slow approach, and my arrow was nocked on the bow string, and my Gator Jaw release was attached.

She turned as if to leave, and the buck moved quickly to intercept her. The buck popped out of the tags like a jack-in-the-box, and after many sightings, there he was 20 yards away.

The moment of truth

I let him move slightly, and offer a quartering-away shot. My sight was nestled low behind his front shoulder, and as that leg moved forward for another step, I laid my finger on the release trigger.

The buck moved right at that instant, turning away, and such low percentage shots seldom produce. I waited for him to turn and offer a quartering-away shot, but the doe walked over to him and they walked away like two old lovers walking side-bt-side down the street. It had been a close call, but the buck had won another round.

There is a great deal of satisfaction in hunting one specific buck, and having everything eventually work out or fall apart because of a doe's action. I've hunted numerous bucks where great planning just didn't work, and that is why they call this hunting, not killing.

If we were to succeed every time we hunted, bow hunting would soon cease to hold any appeal. The challenge of hunting one buck to the exclusion of all others is what works for me, even if an entire season passes without a shot.

More To Hunting Than Killing ((Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, alders, appeal, bow, buck, doe, kill, memories, past hunts, release))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

More To Hunting Than Killing

It's become something of a habit for me. Once the fall hunting season heads into its second month, there's a good chance that once a day I'll remember another hunt from the past where a big buck was taken or an opportunity was lost for one reason or another.

It's this ability to recall past hunts, successful or not, that allow us to wallow through nine months of not hunting deer with a bow. It's rather easy to look at one of the big bucks on my wall, relax, kick back, and dredge up a fond memory or two to help me through the day.

There was a big buck running around my hunting area several years ago, and he was as regular as a dish of prunes. The problem was he was back in thick cover, and would eventually leave it. Each time he stepped out, he was in a slightly different location than days before.

 Hunting a very good buck

All too often he was just a bit too far away for a clean shot, and shooting that 10-pointer wouldn't have been easy. My decision to wait until he exited the tag alders within 20 yards was an easy one to make because I couldn't and wouldn't take a bad shot.

Day after day I'd see him. Sometimes he was close but 10 feet back in the tags, and the next day he would be 65 yards away. I believe he bedded in those alders, and moved around a bit  each day. Deer don't always bed down in the same location, and this guy championed the art of bedding and exiting tags in a different spot from day to day.

This buck was a tempting rascal but I'd hunt other blinds to avoid becoming patterned at this nearby spot. I was always downwind of him, but it was always just before shooting time ended when he stepped out. I felt he occasionally would make his move a little earlier, and it was a matter of being there when he did. Hopefully, his move would let him step out, and take several steps that may put him within range.

Once I saw his high and wide rack, all glistening white, coming through the tag alders. If he stayed his course, he would come out only 18 yards away and in a perfect location for a good shot.

Looking for a shot

His head swiveled  back and forth as he tested the wind, studied the nearby terrain that day, and his ears were cocking forward and to each side in hopes of getting an early warning of possible danger. He was 4 1/2 years old, and had had many opportunities to practice his moves before coming out to feed.

He kept coming at a very slow pace. There was no hurry-up in this guy. Each move was a well managed lesson in tactical survival. He'd take a step, stop, stand motionless for a minute or two, and then take another cautious step or two.

The buck would hold his head high, lower it to change the angle of his gaze, and move again. He had all the patience of a stalking alley cat, and moved as if he was ready to bolt at any second. Bolting wasn't what I wanted him to do, but sometimes these things happen.

Suddenly he stopped, and gazed hard at something nearby. A big mature doe had walked out of the brush on the other side of my stand, and was standing there, watching the buck. Live decoys like this doe that had appeared out of nowhere can be a good thing. As long as she doesn't spook, he may come closer.

The buck was upwind of me and the doe, and she wasn't going to walk over and introduce herself, so the only course of action was for the buck to move toward her. He made a slow approach, and my arrow was nocked on the bow string, and my Gator Jaw release was attached.

She turned as if to leave, and the buck moved quickly to intercept her. The buck popped out of the tags like a jack-in-the-box, and after many sightings, there he was 20 yards away.

The moment of truth

I let him move slightly, and offer a quartering-away shot. My sight was nestled low behind his front shoulder, and as that leg moved forward for another step, I laid my finger on the release trigger.

The buck moved right at that instant, turning away, and such low percentage shots seldom produce. I waited for him to turn and offer a quartering-away shot, but the doe walked over to him and they walked away like two old lovers walking side-bt-side down the street. It had been a close call, but the buck had won another round.

There is a great deal of satisfaction in hunting one specific buck, and having everything eventually work out or fall apart because of a doe's action. I've hunted numerous bucks where great planning just didn't work, and that is why they call this hunting, not killing.

If we were to succeed every time we hunted, bow hunting would soon cease to hold any appeal. The challenge of hunting one buck to the exclusion of all others is what works for me, even if an entire season passes without a shot.

((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, alders, appeal, bow, buck, doe, kill, memories, past hunts, release))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Dumb Deer Hunting Moves

There are few people who can tell me they've never made a mistake while going head-to-head with a mature whitetail buck. I've made some really colossal and stupid mistakes over 55 years of hunt deer with bow, muzzleloader, rifle and shotgun.

Making a small mistake that means little is not bad, but when the mishap costs you a shot at a good buck at spitting distance, that is something a person will have to live with forever.

Everyone makes stupid mistakes Preaching to the choir is easy because you've made some mistakes, as have I, and we well know the feeling of anger and frustration at ourselves when we mess up.

One year a nice buck came past me every night from where he bedded in some tall grass. My stand was in a cedar tree atop a 10-foot knoll. My stand was eight feet up the tree, and when I sat in the stand I was about 22 feet above the trail the buck had followed night after night.

The buck was upwind of me, and never looked up at that cedar tree. One day I could hear the buck grunting as he followed his scrape line. He stopped, broadside to me, and as I made my draw, the arrow fell off the rest and rattled through the branches to the ground.

The buck looked up, and then went back to pawing his scrape. I nocked another arrow, began my draw and again the arrow fell off the rest. That buck never hung around long enough to see what made that second tinkling sound.

Don't shoot other animals while deer hunting

The question often arises about shooting other critters while deer hunting. I no longer do so, but once while sitting in the same tree stand as noted above, twigs and needles kept falling down on me. I looked up, saw nothing, and five minutes later down came more bark and needles.

I looked up again, and this time saw a big porcupine scratching around on the tree. Not thinking, I drew back, aimed and shot the porkie. It wobbled around, and suddenly I realized what could happen. The animal could fall on my head.

I stepped to the extreme back edge of the stand, got two hand-holds and one toe-hold, and down he came onto my stand. A foot nudge sent him toppling over the edge where fell to the ground with an audible thump. I no longer do such dumb things.

The porkie waddled off, walked down by the scrape below me and died. No deer came to visit me that night.

Another time I was in a different stand near an open road that was bordered by a small field, and I was watching a buck 100 yards away. A late arriving hunter came down the two-track trail, knew I was in that stand, and waved at me as he drove past. It's a normal reaction, and I waved back. The car disappeared, and so did the buck. The buck had seen my friendly wave and skedaddled for heavy cover.

Haybale blinds are great to hunt from

Once I was bow hunting in late December, and was sitting in a hay bale blind near a corn field. I have asthma and hay fever so I downed a Benadryl pill to keep from sneezing, crawled inside and soon there were deer in the corn and eating away at my blind, unaware of my presence.

One deer was a nice buck, and I'm inside the hay bales, trying to get a shot at the deer. I needed just another inch or two for a clean shot, and darkness was coming. I tried to force the issue without making any noise, and damned if the two rectangular hay bales didn't move a bit. The small bales moved several inches, and there I went, falling out of the blind and almost on top of the buck.

It's questionable who was more surprised: me or the buck.

All the deer ran off, and at Show and Tell after hunting ended, everyone had a good laugh at my expense. I laughed too as I replayed my smooth move for the other hunters.

Don't forget the little details

One of my dumbest moves came several years ago. We decided to take a different car than the one we normally drove to our hunting land. I'd taken my bow out of the car to shoot a few arrows, and put it back in the car.

The dumb thing was I had transferred everything, including Kay's bow, into the other car. Habit, being what it is, made me put my bow in the car we normally used. I dropped Kay off at her stand, and drove to where I would hunt.

I got my hunting clothes out, got dressed, grabbed my back pack, and started looking for my bow case. It was forehead slapping time as I remembered putting it in the other car.

I spent that afternoon and evening watching deer through my binoculars and spotting scope. It almost seemed as if all of the deer were laughing at me, but that was probably just a figment of my imagination.

Dumb Deer Hunting Moves ((tag: David Richey, Michigan Outdoors, bow, bucks, dumb moves, forgetful, grunting, haybales, hunter, porkie))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Dumb Deer Hunting Moves

There are few people who can tell me they've never made a mistake while going head-to-head with a mature whitetail buck. I've made some really colossal and stupid mistakes over 55 years of hunt deer with bow, muzzleloader, rifle and shotgun.

Making a small mistake that means little is not bad, but when the mishap costs you a shot at a good buck at spitting distance, that is something a person will have to live with forever.

Everyone makes stupid mistakes

Preaching to the choir is easy because you've made some mistakes, as have I, and we well know the feeling of anger and frustration at ourselves when we mess up.

One year a nice buck came past me every night from where he bedded in some tall grass. My stand was in a cedar tree atop a 10-foot knoll. My stand was eight feet up the tree, and when I sat in the stand I was about 22 feet above the trail the buck had followed night after night.

The buck was upwind of me, and never looked up at that cedar tree. One day I could hear the buck grunting as he followed his scrape line. He stopped, broadside to me, and as I made my draw, the arrow fell off the rest and rattled through the branches to the ground.

The buck looked up, and then went back to pawing his scrape. I nocked another arrow, began my draw and again the arrow fell off the rest. That buck never hung around long enough to see what made that second tinkling sound.

Don't shoot other animals while deer hunting

The question often arises about shooting other critters while deer hunting. I no longer do so, but once while sitting in the same tree stand as noted above, twigs and needles kept falling down on me. I looked up, saw nothing, and five minutes later down came more bark and needles.

I looked up again, and this time saw a big porcupine scratching around on the tree. Not thinking, I drew back, aimed and shot the porkie. It wobbled around, and suddenly I realized what could happen. The animal could fall on my head.

I stepped to the extreme back edge of the stand, got two hand-holds and one toe-hold, and down he came onto my stand. A foot nudge sent him toppling over the edge where fell to the ground with an audible thump. I no longer do such dumb things.

The porkie waddled off, walked down by the scrape below me and died. No deer came to visit me that night.

Another time I was in a different stand near an open road that was bordered by a small field, and I was watching a buck 100 yards away. A late arriving hunter came down the two-track trail, knew I was in that stand, and waved at me as he drove past. It's a normal reaction, and I waved back. The car disappeared, and so did the buck. The buck had seen my friendly wave and skedaddled for heavy cover.

Haybale blinds are great to hunt from

Once I was bow hunting in late December, and was sitting in a hay bale blind near a corn field. I have asthma and hay fever so I downed a Benadryl pill to keep from sneezing, crawled inside and soon there were deer in the corn and eating away at my blind, unaware of my presence.

One deer was a nice buck, and I'm inside the hay bales, trying to get a shot at the deer. I needed just another inch or two for a clean shot, and darkness was coming. I tried to force the issue without making any noise, and damned if the two rectangular hay bales didn't move a bit. The small bales moved several inches, and there I went, falling out of the blind and almost on top of the buck.

It's questionable who was more surprised: me or the buck.

All the deer ran off, and at Show and Tell after hunting ended, everyone had a good laugh at my expense. I laughed too as I replayed my smooth move for the other hunters.

Don't forget the little details

One of my dumbest moves came several years ago. We decided to take a different car than the one we normally drove to our hunting land. I'd taken my bow out of the car to shoot a few arrows, and put it back in the car.

The dumb thing was I had transferred everything, including Kay's bow, into the other car. Habit, being what it is, made me put my bow in the car we normally used. I dropped Kay off at her stand, and drove to where I would hunt.

I got my hunting clothes out, got dressed, grabbed my back pack, and started looking for my bow case. It was forehead slapping time as I remembered putting it in the other car.

I spent that afternoon and evening watching deer through my binoculars and spotting scope. It almost seemed as if all of the deer were laughing at me, but that was probably just a figment of my imagination.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Some Game Birds Have Disappeared: Others Holding Their Own

Gone, at least from Michigan, are some birds that sportsmen once hunted. Hunters did not drive these game birds away nor did we kill them off, but humans and their continuing intrusion into the birds' backyards did the job, quickly and most effectively.
I remember 35 years ago on a hill-top between Lake City and  Marion, along highway M-66, watching the prairie chicken drumming grounds within easy view of the highway.

Prairie chickens were the first to disappear

The drumming grounds is where prairie chickens once gathered in the spring, and the males would puff up and  their air sacs, and they would make a distinctive booming noise. The cocks would dance for the hens, and little did I know as I watched and photographed the primitive prairie chicken mating dance from a small tent, that one day in less than 10 years they would all be gone forever.
Prairie chickens are now extinct, as they have been for 30 years or more. The areas where these open prairie birds would dance in the early spring dawn, would soon be gone as well. Sadly, one dancing ground has been paved over and several businesses cover the area.
A man I know used to have a lek (dancing ground) near his home on M-66. He said the fault wasn't the result of over-hunting. as they were protected, but of dwindling habitat loss and aerial predation.
"Once hawks and owls became Federally protected from harm," he said, "the days of listening to the thunder of drumming prairie chickens quickly became numbered. We still saw a few in 1975, but I believe they were declared extinct by 1977 or 1978."
He said the noisy spring birds were easy prey for late-cruising owls and early rising hawks. The birds would dance out in the open, and an ambitious aerial predator found easy pickings. He said that as soon as the chickens were gone, the hawks and owls foraged heavily on what pheasants remained in the area until they too had quickly disappeared.

Ringneck not as prevalent as in the past

Where once ringneck pheasants were common, and throughout much of the middle and southern counties, their days were also numbered. He occasionally hears a crowing rooster pheasant, but no longer hunts the few that remain on his farm.
Another bird is finding it hard to hang on to small pockets of its native cover. As more people move in, and carve up old fields for lots to sell for home building, more and more of the natural cover of the sharptail has disappeared.

Sharptails hanging on but losing ground

The last time I hunted sharptails was nearly 20 years ago in Michigan's eastern Upper Peninsula near Pickford. Two of us walked in behind a staunch pointer, holding steady on point, snuffling a nose filled with the heady scent of sharptails.
The birds flushed, and I took a bird flying to the right, swung through it, and with touched off a shot. To my surprise, two birds fell with just the single shot.
Sharptails are slowly losing their wide-open habitat, and when flushed now, they often cackle and soar for one-half to three-quarters of a mile, clucking as they glide to a landing. Try to catch up with them, and they will flush again, well out of shotgun range, and it's easy to walk miles trying to catch up with spooked sharpies.

Bobwhite quail fun to hunt but are low in numbers

The bobwhite quail seems to be hanging on in some southern counties. Their habitat also is shrinking at an alarming rate as more and more land is used for home foundations, buildings, paved parking lots, and other areas that are no longer capable of producing good wild bird nesting cover.
I've shot but one quail in this state although I delight in hunting those quail-birds in Alabama and Georgia. Our birds continue to fight for the weakest of toe-holds. Cold winters with lots of snow, ice-covered spring fields and fence rows, and poor food supplies can lead to a season closure on these gallant little game birds.
And, it's easy for those bird hunters who have never hunted quail --the gentleman's game bird -- to take too many from a covey rise. Those who know better will take just one or two birds from a covey. A covey rise is one of the greatest experiences in the life of an ardent bird hunter.

Grouse & woodcock numbers remain fairly stable

Many Michigan hunters lament what they perceive to be an ever-decreasing number of ruffed grouse and woodcock. The birds are still here, and grouse are now positioned in their upward cycle and woodcock numbers are making a slow come-back.

The fact is these game birds are still here in huntable numbers but they are becoming increasing difficult to find. Many birds, like deer, have learned the better food sources are on private land rather than state land. The old axiom about finding the proper food supply and you'll find the birds still applies in many locations.
I know where grouse hold and the tag alder runs where woodcock leave chalky-colored droppings behind. My idea of hunting them means limiting myself to one killing shot per year. It's fairly easy to do with only one good shooting eye, and besides, if the bird isn't killed, chances are we can play at being the hunter and hunted another day, often with very similar results.
That pleases me very much.
Some Game Birds Have Disappeared: Others Holding Their Own ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, buildings, extinct, hunting, land, prairie chicken, sharptails, grouse, shotgunning, woodcock))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Fanning The Flames Of Personal Outdoor Adventures ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, experiences,fanning, fishing, flames, hunting, lifetime, rekindle, sharing, work. youngsters

It's sometimes odd how my blogs come about. Sometimes they are planned long in advance, months before they are posted.

Other times a note from a reader is what triggers the thought for a different kind of blog. Sometimes they just pop into my head while reading the morning paper over coffee.

This topic, if all of us live long enough, will be one  we shall all face. A reader wrote: When do you know the urge to hunt has withered and blown away?

When the flame of fishing or hunting anticipation disappears

It seems a simple question with an equally simple answer. Live long enough, and the answer shall become obvious.

The urge to hunt may leave  any of us at any time although at age 70, I'm happy to admit it hasn't clawed its way into any of my urges and driven me away from fishing and hunting.

Age can play an important role in when this question jumps on a person. A disability or serious health problem can slow or stop any one. The natural attrition of hunters is due, in large part to age, feebleness, illness or some major injury that may make hunting just too difficult or painful to pursue as we grow older.

The average person, based on hundreds of conversations with other sportsmen, can begin to lose his/her urge to hunt anytime after the age of 55 years, and for some, even earlier. For many, they just get lazy and decide not to go out anymore.

Health slowly eats away at a formerly active hunter, and more time is spent dreaming of the old days and not looking forward to future field trips. Often the hunter, growing older, may develop a heart or lung problem that makes it far more difficult to muster up enough energy to hunt regularly.

We all need fishing & hunting buddies

Some sportsmen may lay the blame on not having someone to hunt with, and I'm indeed fortunate with my eye problems, that Kay is not only my best hunting buddy but my wife, and a person who enjoys bow hunting as I do. Some folks are not so lucky, and I know some older hunters who have taken young sportsmen hunting for years, but the youngsters forgot about who originally brought 'em to the dance. Now that is a sorry thought and rude behavior by a younger person.

The urge to stay home comes with the normal aches and pains of aging. Many say they no longer like to eat venison, the woods are too crowded, too many small deer...whatever.

There are usually a variety of reasons. Some folks fear falling from a tree stand, and pin their reluctance to hunt to a fear of falling. Some say they don't see or hear as well as 10 years ago but that happens to almost everyone.

As this progresses, hunters begin making excuses for not wanting to go hunting. Reasons include but are not limited to:

A list of possible excuses

I haven't had time to sight in my rifle. I've found that my shotgun doesn't shoot as well as it once did (which means the hunter is really missing more often). Got me a hitch in my git-a-long. I had forgotten that this hill seems a lot steeper that it once was. I've been huffing and puffing for two years. Don't want to die and miss out on future hunts. The sun is too bright, not bright enough, and the  snow is getting deeper in the woods. etc. Makes it too difficult to get around, and I'm afraid of falling. Gas is too expensive. Doesn't bother them to go bowling, golfing or doing something else. Hunting just isn't as important to me as it was 20 years ago.

I've heard all of these excuses, and countless others, but the fact is the person is too ill, too lame or too lazy to exert the energy to go hunting. It's not the hunting that is at issue here. It is the attitude of the sportsman.

The fact is that hunting can be hard work, but those who stay in decent physical shape won't find it much different. The loss of a close hunting buddy often takes the hunting fire out of the belly of the sportsman who is left behind. Perhaps that is the time to find and teach a younger hunter.

Share your outdoor knowledge with others

Sharing the wealth of a lifetime of fishing or hunting with a youngster can keep us young and more in touch with the seasons and the fish we hope to catch and the game we hunt.

We all grow old and we all grow tired, but hunting at one's own pace is available to all sportsmen. Take your time, remember those past hunts when the fire burned bright and hot in us, and when we couldn't wait to get into the field.

Sometimes, a little kindling in the form of watching a young hunter develop their personal memories, is all it takes to renew our personal interest in hunting.

It may be the start needed to rekindle the hunting flames of yesteryear.

Fanning The Flames Of Personal Outdoor Adventures  ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, experiences,fanning,  fishing, flames, hunting, lifetime, rekindle, sharing, work. youngsters

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors