What A Buck!

Ever have a hunch? Or a premonition? Or even a gut check?
My hunch or whatever it was almost made me vibrate in my elevated stand. I was all a'jangle, and only one thought bounced around in my head. Tonight would be the night. I hunt big bucks only or young does. A small buck doesn't interest me. Some years I don't shoot a good buck, and that is OK with me.
I sat as still as possible, was downwind of where the deer traveled, and was in my tree stand well before 4 p.m. Everything was set up, and only a faint breeze blew. It was as soft as an angel's kiss, and I was downwind of the trail.

The adrenalin was flowing

The longer I sat there, as immobile as a statue, the stronger this feeling grew. It was so strong that my neck hairs were lifting up. Jolt after jolt of adrenalin was coursing through my body, and even though I felt jumpy, there was no motion or noise.
The minutes passed with all the speed of a moving glacier. Time dragged by on tired legs, and soon it was 5:45 and I had yet to see a deer. As the minutes passed with dragged-out slowness, the feeling seemed to intensify. Something was close by.
Shooting time ended where I was hunting at 5:58 p.m., and that gave whatever was coming just 13 minutes to get on the stick and move down the trail to me.
I heard a twig snap behind me in a tag alder run. Deer? Perhaps some large animal? A buck?
Possibilities seemed endless, and yet the feeling persisted. There was something behind me, but what?
With two minutes to go I checked my watch again, noted the little remaining shooting time, and still nothing moved. There seemed to be a hush, and had I been bear hunting it would have meant a bruin was up and moving nearby.

It wasn't a bear

But this location isn't noted for bears. I've learned to believe in these feelings, hunches or whatever they are. Such thoughts have kept me alive when trouble was brewing, and it has alerted me to approaching bears or possible danger. My eyes kept flitting to the trail, and then the magic minutes and hours combined to force me to remove the arrow from my bow.
I stowed my bow, put the arrow in the quiver, and waited for my buddy to pick me up. I didn't want to move from my stand until I was picked up, and was content to let the vehicle spook the deer rather than me doing it by moving at the wrong time. There was no sense alerting the deer to my presence in the tree and ruining that spot for the rest of the season.
Five minutes after legal shooting time ended, the vibes grew much stronger, and like a ghost from a horror movie, out stepped a big buck. He was four inches outside of his ears on both sides, and although the brow tines were short, the main beams were heavy and each of the points looked to be 10-12 inches long.

It was a very nice buck

This beautiful 8-point was the first buck I'd seen in several days, and what continues to amaze me, was that I could feel the animal nearby. My body, for whatever the reason, is attuned to such things.
The same feelings occur when bear hunting, and this buck had established his presence on me two hours earlier. It just took him until dark to make his move down the trail but I knew he was there for a long time.
My binoculars focused on that magnificent rack, and I studied him with a calmness that even surprised me. You see, I knew I couldn't shoot and so I did the next best thing. I studied him and the doe that traveled with him.
His body was long and thick between the  backbone and belly as he moved through some high weeds, and his neck was rut-swollen, and he had tufts of hair missing here and there. He had fought some rutting wars, and was very alert to any danger.
He didn't move fast. One or two steps, stop, lift his head, and with the binoculars I could see his ears swiveling back and forth as he listened for any strange sound. I could hear that buck sniffing the breeze, and there I sat being treated to one of the greatest shows on earth without lingering long on any one spot on that buck.
He eventually moved on down the trail and was out of sight when my ride showed up. I loaded my gear into the vehicle, cased my bow, jumped in, eased the door shut with an almost inaudible click, and away we went.
I muttered: "What a buck!" He asked about what I saw, and listened to my story, and I'd been blessed tonight. No arrows were shot, but I saw the buck that would have made my day or that of any other bow hunter.
I could have cheated and shot the buck, but that is not me. I told the story to another hunter, and he said he would have shot. Who would have known?
Only me, I told him. I would have known that by taking a shot that I was no better than a common poacher, and whenever I would look at that buck, I would have known that I broke the law to shoot a deer.
Seeing that big buck was good enough for me. And tomorrow, when I look in the mirror, I'll know I did the ethical and right thing.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Mopping Up Wounded Bear Problems

Some untimely business was keeping me indoors today, and that is never a good thing. I wanted to relish the cool temperatures and puffy wind.

I spent a few hours looking through an old pile of Outdoor Life magazines from the decade when I wrote stories on a regular basis for them. One article was about a grizzly bear attack I'd covered for the magazine.

The subject was a wildlife biologist who had most of his face chewed or ripped off by a grizzly bear, and who lived to tell me the story. The magazine flew me to a Salt Lake City hospital where the interview took place.

Massive injuries inflicted in grizzly bear attack

He lost one eye, his nose and one ear, and the bear literally ripped his face and scalp off. He'd had over 1,000 stitches when I did the interview, and had more plastic surgeries scheduled. He had bite marks elsewhere on his body.

Recalling that story got me to thinking about the number of black bears I've killed while mopping up a messy job of shooting by other hunters. Years ago, when bear hunting meant going into a sporting goods store and buying a license. There was no need for a lottery draw in those days. You bought a license and went hunting.

One incident was a bruin that had been shot in the hip with a .44 Magnum by another hunter, and the bullet broke the leg bone. The hunter was frightened and asked if I'd help. I said I would if he agreed to stay behind so I didn't have to listed to his nervous jabbering. I didn't want him near me if I had to shoot fast.

 He agreed, and I went after the bear with a 3-inch magnum 12 gauge shotgun stoked with five No. 4 buckshot. I saw the bear at 40 yards, and hit him with the first shot. He went down, got up, came running toward me, and four more shots were taken with the last one being at six feet. That last shot finally killed the animal.

Reading old accounts of African leopard and lion attacks

I'd read stories in outdoor magazines as a kid about African hunters shooting a leopard or lion, and then having to dig them out of thick cover and kill them at close range. This was pretty heady business for me, knowing full well I'd never go to Africa. I'd have to settle for killing wounded bears that other people had severely injured.

Another bear led me on a two-day hunt that covered a small swamp bordered on one side by a tiny creek and a two-track trail on two other sides. I had lost the blood trail but later found where the bear had bedded down three times. Finally a drop of blood was found near the creek. I followed it slowly up a steep hill.

The shotgun preceded me, and bent blades of grass pointed out the path taken by the bruin. I'd just topped the hill when I spotted the bear three feet away. It moved and I shot, and that mess was cleaned up and done with.

Bears have provided me with some hair-raising thrills down through the years. People talk about brown bears, grizzlies and polar bears, but more people are attacked by black bears each year than many people would believe. Black bears are most common, and I've had some very close encounters when armed and unarmed, and it's a thrill most people would prefer to live without.

Only once did I go after a wounded bear with another person, and it was a friend whose skills were legendary and a man I trust. We got that bear, but every other time I've done it was alone. And that was the way I preferred to tackle these hairy situations.

My preference was to do the job alone

Frightened people talk, make noise, and generally get in other people's way when some serious work must be done. Wounded bears often are shot at close range in thick cover, and I didn't want anyone nearby for fear they would create a greater hazard than already existed.

I'd move slowly if the going was tough, stopping often and looking around as I followed the blood trail. Of the six wounded bears I've dispatched, none had injuries that would have been immediately fatal. All animals were moving, and often the dirty work was done within an hour of dark. It meant moving fast and quiet, getting close enough to the animal for a deadly shot. Of those six, only the one noted above required more than one shot.

It isn't something I'd do now because my vision is so poor. Back in those days in the early and mid-1970s, I could see well and there was a major adrenalin rush when the wounded animal was first spotted. Then it means staying downwind and trying to get close to the animal without spooking it.

Doing this nasty business was not fun but whenever I went after a bear it was because the hunter couldn't or wouldn't do it. It meant putting an animal out of its misery as quickly as possible. I never advertised my services, never went looking for this kind of work, but for many years I always seemed to be in the area where bears were being hunted and some were being wounded.

I did it because someone had to. Otherwise, a frightened hunter may walk away from the problem or wait until the next day and not be able to find the bruin.

Memories like a recurring bad dream

This string of memories came back to me like a recurring nightmare. This wasn't Africa and it wasn't a wounded leopard or lion at the end of a blood trail, but they were wounded and potentially dangerous animals that had to be put down before they were lost or lived long enough to become a danger to someone else.

It wasn't fun but cleaning up someone elses mess offered some hair-raising adventures. And trust me, those were hunting moments I'll never forget.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

The Challenge Of Handgun Deer Hunting

The mood crept up on me like a thief in the night. All of a sudden, there it was. A new and different way to hunt deer, and admittedly, I'd fallen into the rut of just bow, muzzleloading or rifle hunting for deer. I needed a change of pace, a break for a year from these more traditional hunting methods.
Handgunning for whitetails isn't all that different except a hunter  must be, within reason, close enough to kill the animal with a bullet large enough to effectively do the job.
At the time I had three handguns that would do the job nicely. One was a Thompson/Center Contender with two different barrels that offered me a choice. One barrel was a .30-30 and the other was a .44 Magnum.

Making a choice between handguns

I also had a .44 Magnum Smith & Wesson revolver, and I was a pretty good shot with it. I thought about putting a scope on it, and decided I'd rather use iron sights and keep any shots within 50 yards.
The T/C Contender was a single-shot pistol. The hammer had to be manually cocked, and it's true I could have used a scope on it but doing so didn't make me feel quite right. I had time to practice shooting at 50 yards but chose not to put a scope on either handgun.
A .44 Magnum is a powerful handgun, and with a 240-grain hollow-point bullet, it would do the job. The recoil when shooting this revolver is substantial but I'd had it ported by Mag-na-Port of Mt. Clemens, Michigan, and that tamed it down considerably.
I could shoot a dozen rounds a day, and eventually got to where I could put five rounds into a two-inch circle with iron sights. It was plenty good enough if I had time to cock the hammer, aim and squeeze off a controlled shot.
The .30-30 was a different story. Shooting it was a far sight different than shooting the .44 Magnum revolver. The revolver had also been ported, which helped reduce felt recoil and eliminate some of the muzzle jump.

Getting used to heavy recoil

The .30-30 was another story. The recoil from this cartridge came back more into the palm of my hand rather than back and up, and 10 shots of practice each day was all I wanted to handle. In fact, it was more recoil than I was comfortable with.
I found myself much more accurate with the .30-30 at 50 yards although the felt recoil seemed much more punishing. It took several weeks to get used to it. A pair of thin leather gloves helped ease the felt recoil.
The practice continued through the summer, and the more I shot, the better I became. My eyes were good back in those days, and if I could spot a buck at 50 yards, I knew that killing the animal would be easy.
Shooting the T/C Contender for three months enabled me to condition myself to the felt recoil of the 30-30, which still seemed to be much more than with the .44 Magnum. The Nov. 15 firearm opener should be a snap if everything went as planned.
Opening day came that year with some snow on the ground and partly cloudy skies. My stand was well positioned 40 yards downwind of where three active deer trails came through a tag alder swale, spread out, and gradually came back together to neck down into a funnel between two heavy patches of thick cover.
It was a coin flip as to which handgun I'd use, and finally settled on the T/C Contender with the .30-30 barrel for the opening day. I had two extra cartridges in my pocket, but a single-shot handgun doesn't offer fast reloading. One shot means taking enough time to get the right shot and then nailing it.
I'd been setting on stand for two hours. It wasn't a cold day, and dozens of does had trickled past but I wanted a buck with the handgun. It didn't have to be a wall-hanger because the area I was hunting didn't produce many big deer.

Here comes my buck

Soon a young buck was seen easing through the cover. He came down one of the deer trails, and it gradually merged with the other two at 40 yards. The buck stopped where all three deer trails came together, turned broadside and looked back over his off-side shoulder at some other deer.
Satisfied, he turned and took one step. The sight picture looked perfect, and I took up the last ounce or two of trigger slackl with the sights behind his front shoulder and shot.
The shot seemed excessively loud that morning but my eyes continued to track the animal. I could see the red stain behind his front shoulder, and after 50 yards he crashed to the ground.
Later,  I shot another buck with the .44 magnum revolver, and also shot a wild boar with the T/C and the .30-30 barrel, and a javelina with a 9 mm pistol. I once shot a black bear with the .44 Magnum revolve. It's not that I don't enjoy hunting with a handgun, but now I basically just shoot paper holes to maintain some form of consistent practice.
Can handgun hunting be a challenge for you? Of course it can, and I know a number of people who hunt all the time with a handgun. Who knows, I may go back to it again one of these years. If Michigan hunters plan to hunt deer with a handgun this season, they had better start  practising.
But, for me, I'm still locked into hunting with a bow, centerfire rifle or muzzleloader during those respective seasons. And, although handguns are fully capable of killing game far beyond my 50-yard capabilities, long-range handgun shooting is not for me.
It may be your cup of tea, and if so, I know why you enjoy it. But after a lifetime of bow hunting, it still gives me a big kick to have game within 20 yards when a shot is taken. Up close and personal is what bow hunting has always meant to me.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Anticipate Rutting Buck Behavior

Trying to anticipate what a rutting buck will do is much like listening to a politician's promise. Both can be a risky venture.

Frankly, the only predictable thing about a rutting buck is his unpredictability. They do things that make absolutely no sense to the bow hunter, but apparently, their actions make complete sense to them.

Bucks can act completely addled, and once they begin chasing does, some bucks dart across roads only to get themselves killed in a deer-vehicle collision. I've watched bucks run head-long into a fence post even though the doe jumped the fence.

Rutting bucks never lose their fear of humans

The oddities of rutting bucks have been well documented. What is seldom stressed is how their mood swings influence their actions, but seldom will a buck become totally clueless. They do not lose their inherent fear of humans, and a buck that hears, sees or smells a hunter, will waste little time getting out of Dodge.

This means that hunters can take no liberties with being downwind of known travel routes. We also must sit still, don't move and take only high-percentage shots. Another thing to note is that bucks are seldom still during the rut, and hunters must be prepared for a quick and accurate shot on a moment's notice. Keep your bow in your hands at all times. Reaching for a bow hanging from a nearby branch often is a waste of time.

The most predictable thing about a rutting buck is he is never far from his latest squeeze. Of course, as soon as he's had his way with her, he is off on a continuing search for other estrus does to breed. For the larger and older bucks, breeding does is a never-ending process in which a mature buck will lose 25-30 percent of his body weight.

Find the does and you'll find the bucks

Remember, a buck will always be near the does. He may hang back in heavy cover near a food source, but once she moves, the buck cuts her trail again. It's one reason why hunters often set up a stand in the heaviest cover near a food source and near a field corner.

A buck will cruise back and forth as the doe feeds, and will check other nearby does to determine how close they are to estrus, but he keeps a close watch on his latest lady friend.

Bucks will often be seen crossing open fields as they course a doe. He will go where she goes, and if she is almost in estrus, he will be even closer. If she goes left or right, he will cut her off, and if she head-fakes him into going one way while she goes the other, he will soon catch up with the wayward doe.

Hunting these animals can be great fun, and almost every hunter will say; "So close and yet so far away" at one time or another. The bucks and does often move just out of bow range, and it's not a deliberate thing on their part. The hunter has simply made a mistake by setting up just out of effective bow range.

Hunt near field corners with thick cover

It's difficult to go wrong by hunting fairly close to fields where does will feed. Choose one of the corners, and especially the field-edge corner with the heaviest nearby cover. That is where bucks will hang out to watch the does, and they often pace back and forth like an expectant father. Their reason for pacing is the driving need to breed when she enters estrus.

None of this means the buck won't enter a feeding field, and often by luck or design, a doe will lead an amorous buck past a ground blind or tree stand, but it's not something to bet the homestead on.

Tending bucks often are vocal bucks, and one about to breed a doe will be grunting with almost every step it takes. This tending grunt is low and guttural, and sometimes can be heard for 100 yards while at other times the buck may only be 20 yards away when the sound is heard. In some cases the sound is much like a ventriloquist "throwing" his voice; it's almost impossible to tell where the sound comes from during a heavy fog or a misty rain.

Bucks will sometimes still check ground scrapes, but once the rut really kicks offs, they stop opening up and freshening scrapes. They have used those scrapes over the past two or three weeks to locate estrus and soon-to-be-ready does, and every buck in the area knows which does will soon be bred. The earliest does to breed often are among the oldest does in the area.

This also is when young bucks try to mount the does while the big buck is busy elsewhere, but most does will not stand for a younger deer unless big boy gets killed. Few 1 1/2-year-old bucks do any breeding. Their day will come in two or three years unless they get shot by a hunter.

Hunting the rut is entirely different than hunting bucks at other times. Hunters must start thinking like a buck, and once they figure out where the does are, and where the thickest cover is (where much of the breeding will take place), it becomes a bit easier... but not by much.

It's easy to make an obvious error in judgment in retrospect, and hunters who know the land they hunt like the back of their hand will usually know from past experience where the bucks and does head during the rut. They can arrange to be there at the right time.

Two tips to remember about hunting rutting bucks

Two last tips on rutting deer is this:

• Bucks often rest up a bit after daybreak but begin cruising in search of estrus bucks between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. This four-hour period during mid-day can be a hot time to be on stand. Few hunters are out at that time of day but the bucks are often moving.
• The same holds true with hunting just before a bad weather front moves through. Check the weather, and hunt just before bad weather hits your area, especially if it features a substantial drop in temperature and either rain or snow.

Rut hunting is never easy, but hunting it properly and knowing a few of these tricks will stimulate your brain and make hunters think each daily situation out thoroughly. And that usually is a good thing to do at this time of year.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Anticipate Rutting Buck Behavior

Trying to anticipate what a rutting buck will do is much like listening to a politician's promise. Both can be a risky venture.

Frankly, the only predictable thing about a rutting buck is his unpredictability. They do things that make absolutely no sense to the bow hunter, but apparently, their actions make complete sense to them.

Bucks can act completely addled, and once they begin chasing does, some bucks dart across roads only to get themselves killed in a deer-vehicle collision. I've watched bucks run head-long into a fence post even though the doe jumped the fence.

Rutting bucks never lose their fear of humans.The oddities of rutting bucks have been well documented. What is seldom stressed is how their mood swings influence their actions, but seldom will a buck become totally clueless. They do not lose their inherent fear of humans, and a buck that hears, sees or smells a hunter, will waste little time getting out of Dodge.

This means that hunters can take no liberties with being downwind of known travel routes. We also must sit still, don't move and take only high-percentage shots. Another thing to note is that bucks are seldom still during the rut, and hunters must be prepared for a quick and accurate shot on a moment's notice. Keep your bow in your hands at all times. Reaching for a bow hanging from a nearby branch often is a waste of time.

The most predictable thing about a rutting buck is he is never far from his latest squeeze. Of course, as soon as he's had his way with her, he is off on a continuing search for other estrus does to breed. For the larger and older bucks, breeding does is a never-ending process in which a mature buck will lose 25-30 percent of his body weight.

Find the does and you'll find the bucks. Remember, a buck will always be near the does. He may hang back in heavy cover near a food source, but once she moves, the buck cuts her trail again. It's one reason why hunters often set up a stand in the heaviest cover near a food source and near a field corner.

A buck will cruise back and forth as the doe feeds, and will check other nearby does to determine how close they are to estrus, but he keeps a close watch on his latest lady friend.

Bucks will often be seen crossing open fields as they course a doe. He will go where she goes, and if she is almost in estrus, he will be even closer. If she goes left or right, he will cut her off, and if she head-fakes him into going one way while she goes the other, he will soon catch up with the wayward doe.

Hunting these animals can be great fun, and almost every hunter will say; "So close and yet so far away" at one time or another. The bucks and does often move just out of bow range, and it's not a deliberate thing on their part. The hunter has simply made a mistake by setting up just out of effective bow range.

Hunt near field corners with thick cover.It's difficult to go wrong by hunting fairly close to fields where does will feed. Choose one of the corners, and especially the field-edge corner with the heaviest nearby cover. That is where bucks will hang out to watch the does, and they often pace back and forth like an expectant father. Their reason for pacing is the driving need to breed when she enters estrus.

None of this means the buck won't enter a feeding field, and often by luck or design, a doe will lead an amorous buck past a ground blind or tree stand, but it's not something to bet the homestead on.

Tending bucks often are vocal bucks, and one about to breed a doe will be grunting with almost every step it takes. This tending grunt is low and guttural, and sometimes can be heard for 100 yards while at other times the buck may only be 20 yards away when the sound is heard. In some cases the sound is much like a ventriloquist "throwing" his voice; it's almost impossible to tell where the sound comes from during a heavy fog or a misty rain.

Bucks will sometimes still check ground scrapes, but once the rut really kicks offs, they stop opening up and freshening scrapes. They have used those scrapes over the past two or three weeks to locate estrus and soon-to-be-ready does, and every buck in the area knows which does will soon be bred. The earliest does to breed often are among the oldest does in the area.

This also is when young bucks try to mount the does while the big buck is busy elsewhere, but most does will not stand for a younger deer unless big boy gets killed. Few 1 1/2-year-old bucks do any breeding. Their day will come in two or three years unless they get shot by a hunter.

Hunting the rut is entirely different than hunting bucks at other times. Hunters must start thinking like a buck, and once they figure out where the does are, and where the thickest cover is (where much of the breeding will take place), it becomes a bit easier... but not by much.

It's easy to make an obvious error in judgment in retrospect, and hunters who know the land they hunt like the back of their hand will usually know from past experience where the bucks and does head during the rut. They can arrange to be there at the right time.

Two tips to remember about hunting rutting bucks.Two last tips on rutting deer is this: Bucks often rest up a bit after daybreak but begin cruising in search of estrus bucks between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. This four-hour period during mid-day can be a hot time to be on stand. Few hunters are out at that time of day but the bucks are often moving. The same holds true with hunting just before a bad weather front moves through. Check the weather, and hunt just before bad weather hits your area, especially if it features a substantial drop in temperature and either rain or snow.

Rut hunting is never easy, but hunting it properly and knowing a few of these tricks will stimulate your brain and make hunters think each daily situation out thoroughly. And that usually is a good thing to do at this time of year.

Anticipate Rutting Buck Behavior ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, outdoors, rut, buck, anticipate, behavior, estrus, doe, deer, hunt))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

TresAmigos: Fly-FishingGuides

Those anglers who began steelhead fishing in the last several years missed some of the finest river fishing ever seen back in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Good numbers of steelhead were being planted all around the state, and the Betsie and Platte rivers offered great sport that was certainly was as good as it could ever be.
There was some natural steelhead reproduction 40 years ago, and the DNR was planting fish as well. The number of anglers who knew how to catch steelhead were few, and the fish numbers were very high.
My guiding career began in 1967, and brother George joined me in guiding fly fishermen to salmon, steelhead and broad-shouldered brown trout. John McKenzie became the third member of Tres Amigos, and we cut a wide swath through runs of spring and fall-spawning salmonids.

Left-right: George Richey, John McKenzie and Dave Richey -- the Tres Amigos -- years later.

Snagging was rampant  in those days, but not for us. We fished with No. 4, 6 and 8 single-hook flies, and it may sound like bragging but it's not: we were good anglers and guides, and there was no need to snag fish. We fair-hooked fish on a regular basis. The sheer numbers of fish meant if we spooked fish in one spot, a short hike upstream or down would show us other willing fish. Spook one, and it was easy to find others in different locations.

The steelhead runs were huge in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and I can remember days on the Little Manistee River when we could hook 30 steelhead in a day. Not all fish were landed, but George and John tied the flies we used while I handled the guide bookings for all three of us.
We were a busy bunch, and were on the river every day. We knew where the salmon, steelhead or browns would be found from day to day, and we had little competition. We came and went, and sometimes Tres Amigos were all on the same stream, and at times we would be spread out across three different rivers. We'd compare notes at night, and decide who would fish where the next day.
John, 13 years younger than George and I, was a good-looking guy. I often paired him with husband-and-wife teams or father-and-daughters, and his great talent -- besides catching fish -- was being able to teach people how to fish. He was patient, and clients easily learned from him.
George and I were older, and by nature, seemed to attract the older anglers or the chief person who brought a crew up to fish with us. We treated everyone the same; we'd fish from sun-up to sun-down if clients wanted to spend that much time on the river, and we cleaned and froze fish at night and would be up early the next day.
Guiding fishermen was a way of life for Tres Amigos, and we were very good at what we did. We could spot fish, coax anglers into putting the fly in exactly the right spot so it would be scratching gravel when it passed the fish. They would hit, and we'd have a big fishy battle on our hands.

John McKenzie unlooks spring steelhead for client.

One thing captivated the three of us: putting people into big fish for the first time. The smiles that crossed their face when they fought a 15-pound steelhead for the first time; got hooked into a 30-pound chinook salmon; or was trying to land a big hook-jawed male brown trout weighing 12 to 18 pounds. It's been many years since those faces broke out into a smile, but we vividly remember most of them.
There wasn't anything we wouldn't do for each other. John was known to tie flies by hand on the river bank if we ran out. George was always there to coax anxious anglers into following a big fish downstream, and I was the guy that made it all work with the precision of a fine Swiss watch. All of us had a job to do, and we greeted each peach-colored dawn with a smile on our face and a jump in our step.
For 10 years we were Tres Amigos -- three friends -- who made a living in the best possible way -- being outdoors, on the river, and with a client holding tight to a big fish jumping in the river.
We often went without eating, found ourselves upside down in the river current trying to net a client's fish for them, and we looked out for each other. We also paid attention to our clients, catered to their every wish that was ethical and legal, and we coaxed more out of our client's skill levels than they knew they possessed.

George Richey nets a 25-pound chinook salmon in fast water.

We put people into fall-spawning rainbows that had tiny tails, fat waists, and a 23-inch fish would weigh 13 pounds. The browns, especially the big males, were a golden-bronze with big spots; the steelhead were mint-silver and high jumping; the chinook salmon were avid tackle busters, and some mighty battles would cover a half-mile of river. The coho salmon were seldom finicky about a fly: put it to them at their level, and they would hit.
It was a magical 10 years, and now brother George is gone. John McKenzie still avidly fishes, and he and I occasionally take trips down memory lane. We were there for the finest salmon and trout fishing this state has ever seen, and we pride ourselves on being the first river fly-fishing guides during those halcyon days.
And that, my friends, was pretty heady stuff years ago and it's something we'll never forget.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Choose Hunting Friends Wisely

A friend leased some hunting land years ago, put up some tree stands and ground blinds. As soon as people who knew him learned he had some decent property, his list of newest best friends grew overnight.
Two came to hunt from another part of the state where deer were few, and seeing any buck was great cause for celebration. He did all the work, built blinds, did the preseason scouting and they just came to shoot deer.
He assumed they were hunters. That assumption led him to believe they knew when and where to shoot a deer. That assumption was incorrect.

Running shots at bucks are risky

Each one hunted the first weekend with my buddy. At the end of two days, four deer -- two bucks and two does -- had been wounded and lost. They didn't have Game Trackers on their bows, and all four deer eventually fed the neighborhood coyotes.
They came the next weekend, and my friend presented each with a Game Tracker unit and helped them install it on their bow. You guessed it: they shot and lost four more deer because they wouldn't tie the string behind the broadhead so they could easily recover wounded animals.
"No more," he screamed. "You've lost eight deer in four days of hunting over a two-week period. Either learn when and where to shoot or don't bother to come back. And ... you won't hunt one more day here without using a Game Tracker."
The following weekend he explained the facts of life to them again. He told them that where they once hunted, and where they seldom saw a deer, was a thing of the past. If they were to hunt more than this one last day with him, they would know when and where to shoot deer.

Take only high-percentage shots.

He explained the necessity of taking only high percentage shots, and never taking low percentage opportunities. He told them the only shots they could take were standing broadside or standing quartering-away shots at 20 yards of less. There would be no exceptions to these new rules.
Any deer hit anywhere else would buy them a one-way ticket off his hunting land. And, he stressed, friends or not, he was done messing with them. They would do it right or they wouldn't do it at all.
He used a deer target and positioned it at all different angles. He offered them broadside, quartering-away, quartering-toward, dead-on and dead-away shots. He made them shoot countless arrows at the target when it was properly positioned, and they finally realized what they had been doing wrong.
They had been flinging arrows in hopes that a lucky hit would kill the deer. No doubt the first eight "lucky" hits killed the deer but none were recovered even after several hours of blood trailing long after dark.
They soon became excellent shots, and knowing which shots to take and when to take them came next. He had to teach them how and when to draw, and he didn't want them shooting at moving deer.
"A deer that is feeding is occupied," he said. "Watch that animal and any other nearby deer, and make your draw slow and noiselessly. Take careful aim at the heart-lung area, and don't shoot at anything else. Neck, frontal or rear shots are strictly forbidden. Quartering-away bow shots are the best of all."
He told them that patience is a virtue, especially when trying to arrow a deer. Wait until the deer offers you the ideal shot. Often deer will move around and never offer a shot, so he told them not to shoot. You be the judge of when to shoot: don't let the deer decide for you.

Quartering-away bow shots like this are the best bow shots of all.

"You control when you shoot," he preached. "Don't raise the bow until a deer turns sideways or offers a quartering-away shot. If the deer is within range, but other deer have their heads up and are looking around, wait.
"Don't be in a big rush to shoot. Cherish the moment. Make it last. Drag out the final outcome as long as possible. When you decide to shoot, make certain the buck is properly positioned within range. Check to make sure no other deer have their heads up or are looking in your direction.
"You'll know when the right moment comes. Pick a spot, come to full draw, aim at that precise spot, and make a smooth release. Don't lift your head up until the Game Tracker line starts going out after arrow impact."
That night both of them shot bucks. Nothing big, but bucks nonetheless. They waited, and true enough, when the right time arrived for a shot and the deer were perfectly positioned, they eased back to full draw and killed their bucks.

Everything in life must be learned, and proper hunting methods are no different. Do it right or don't do it.

Learning periods like this are very important. Beginning bow hunters have the urge to shoot something, and they invariably take shots that offer little hope of recovering the wounded animal.
Bow hunters must perfect the art of patience. Don't try to rush things. If and when the time is right to shoot, the deer will be motionless and looking away or at another deer, and you'll have plenty of time to shoot. Learn how to wait, and if a deer doesn't offer a good shot that day, let the animal go and try again the next day.
Shooting and wounding deer is stupid. Practice constantly, and know when to draw, how to aim and where to shoot. Refine each of these skills. They are not difficult to learn, and once hunters understand these principles, shooting a buck become much easier.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors