Deciding When To Shoot A Buck

The buck was a nice animal. It was an adult 2 ½-year-old with eight points, the beginning of a really nice rack, and he wasn't rut-crazed just yet. This rack, while still thin and spindly, had an inside spread of 16 inches with good brow points.

The buck came to me early in the evening with plenty of shooting light, and stopped at 18 yards and stood at an extreme quartering-away angle for long minutes. It was a tempting shot possibility.

Questioning my desire

Did I want to shoot that buck? You know, I really can't answer that question. Undecided, I did as I often do, and came back to full draw. The tiny internal red dot settled low behind the front shoulder, but the shot would have to be precise and I tweaked my aim a bit more.

 It's too shallow of an angle, I thought. Too much margin for error. I held the bow back longer, waiting for him to turn. Finally the bow was eased down, and that buck stood in that position for several more minutes before shifting just a bit to turn directly away from me.

I continued to watch him, all the while asking myself: do you really want to shoot this buck? He is nice, but he isn't that nice. Another year of life would make this a really fine animal if someone else doesn’t shoot him this fall.

The result was that my inner self talked me out of that buck until five minutes later when he turned slightly to watch another deer. I raised the bow, put the internal red dot on the proper spot, and held it there.

That animal had no clue I was anywhere in the area. For me, much of my deer-hunting enjoyment comes from fooling the animals. I don’t need to kill a buck to have had a good hunt. But … this guy was very tempting.

If I touched the trigger of my release this would be a dead 8-point. I laid my index finger on the trigger, refined my aim just a tad and didn't pull it. Deep down, I really didn’t want to shoot this deer.

No shot and the reason

The bottom line was the buck wasn’t  exactly what I wanted. It was nice, to be sure, but not that nice. Besides, it was too early in the season for me to shoot a buck. I had time to wait for something bigger.

The buck walked away minutes later, completely unaware of how close he had come to getting shot. It was turned just right so I wasn't looking into its eye, and it wasn't fidgety. It was completely unaware of my predatory presence, and I let that buck walk.

Thirty minutes later an even larger 8-point walked down the wooded trail. This guy stood broadside, and offered an easy 17-yard shot. I aimed, held the red-dot on the vitals for 30 seconds and eased up.

Shoot, don’t shoot?

It was useless. I knew, in my heart, that I had no intention of shooting this animal that evening. He was a nice buck, but still didn't have quite what I wanted.

It occurred to me that I was having a problem identifying what it was I did want. Trophy hunting doesn't appeal to me, but after a half-century of deer hunting and shooting many basket-rack bucks, shooting what suits me is very important. Some years I don’t shoot a buck, and that is my choice. I certainly see enough antlered bucks within range that I can afford to be a bit picky with my choice.

I then agonized over trying to identify what it was I wanted, and got no further down that trail before I realized that a buck was important but it was nearly impossible to identify what unique requirements were needed to satisfy my need to release an arrow at the animal.

A lesson from the past

It reminded me of a conversation I'd had 30 years earlier with a magazine editor as we discussed his magazine’s photographic needs and how I could help him reach those goals. He said: "I don't know what I want but I'll recognize it when I see it."

My buck-shooting problem was similar to his photo problems: I probably won't recognize what it is I’m looking for until I see it, and then all of my motor skills will allow me to come to a full draw, aim with precision, and let loose a killing arrow providing the animal is within my clear and well defined shooting range.

Once, some years ago, I could see a big buck easing along the edge of an oak ridge. His position in relation to mine made it impossible to see both sides of this rack.

The buck sneaked along an overgrown fence line at the edge of the woods, and he would lift his head on occasion to look ahead for danger before lowering his head again. I heard a soft grunt coming from his direction, and I knew he was scent-trailing a hot doe.

He would come within easy bow range of my tree stand, but still the right side of his antlers wasn’t visible. He was a shooter, no doubt, if the right side was as good as the left.

Here he came, walking gently as if he was stepping through broken glass, and he paused 20 yards away. It was just a bit too far to shoot with unfailing accuracy. His head was down and out of sight, and he would be at 15 yards when both sides of his rack would be visible. Just wait, suck a bit more air, and settle down. The bottom line in all such cases is he will come closer or he won’t. Wishful thinking doesn’t work at placing deer at the preferred spot.

He eventually took a few more steps toward me, stepped out into the open, and stood with his head held high. I looked at the right and left side as I drew and prepared to  aim. I soon let off on my draw, and knew I wouldn’t shoot this buck.

The right side had three antler tines broken off as a result of scrapping with another buck. His rack had been damaged in a fight, and if I am to shoot a big buck, his antlers will go on the wall. This old boy got a break on this day although another person shot him on the opening day of the firearm deer season.

Deer hunting's mental crossroads

My problem is I'm at some type of mental crossroads. I'm well past the point where I must shoot another buck. I'm not out looking for massive antlers although I'd probably shoot if that kind of buck walked in front of me at my preferred shooting range, but more than anything, outwitting a good buck seems much more of a personal challenge than just shooting a nice animal.

And I suspect it's one of the reasons I didn't shoot either one of those bucks. The time wasn't right, and whatever it is I seek in a whitetail buck, just wasn't there. Perhaps, both shots would have been too easy or perhaps the reason is the challenge just wasn't intense enough to excite me.

That said, the opportunity is out there. I know of a big 10-pointer in one of my hunting areas. Being there at the right time, with the right temperament, and within easy bow range might tempt me into taking a shot.

Will I take it? Only time will tell, because for me, the hunt is far more important than antler or skull size. Something must challenge my personal skills, and mental moods, and if the challenge isn’t there, neither is the need for me to shoot.

Many people think hunting is easy. This simply proves that for some people, hunting is far more difficult than one might believe.

TITLE Deciding When To Shoot A Buck ((tags: buck, dave richey, desire, determining what I want, shoot or don't shoot))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

It happens every year about now. TagsL ((dave richey, deer, human odor, pre-rut, rut, post-rut, scrapes, weather))

It happens every year about now. The deer seem to disappear.

It's almost as if they have decided to take a break. And essentially, that is about what happens. They aren't moving much, and there are some very good reasons why this natural phenomenon occurs.

Part of the problem so far this year can be laid at the feet of our quirky weather and east wind conditions. Rain, a tiny bit of snow in places one night and high winds have played havoc with deer movement.

Why the deer lull happens

One major reasons for this recent lull in deer activity is the animals have learned that hunters are now afield. There is more human odor in the woods, and that keeps deer on their toes. No longer are they in their summer mode of travel from bedding to feeding areas, and this lull will last about 10 days to two weeks and then the early rut begins.

The third reason for an apparent lack of deer activity is the animals are preparing for this upcoming rut. There are umpteen methods of attempting to predict when the rut begins, but hunters must first understand that there are three distinct rut phases.

This deer lull will last until about Oct. 20-25, and those dates coincide with the beginning of the pre-rut or "chasing" period. This is when larger bucks are actively bird-dogging estrus or soon-to-be-in-estrus does. It's one of the best times to hunt. Note that in a well-balanced deer herd, the small bucks do little or no breeding and the pecking order of bucks was established months ago.

Getting ready for the pre-rut

Frankly, I love to hunt this chasing period. It's possible to see bucks at any time of the day, and hunters who overlook the 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. period are missing a key hunting time. Bucks will be visiting scrapes, picking up does waiting nearby, and modern science seems to indicate that this chasing phase helps usher in estrus. It stimulates both buck and doe to enter the breeding phase.

The main part of the rut in my area will run from late October through Nov. 10, based on activity seen over many years of hunting, and the post-rut period extends through the Nov. 15-30 firearm deer season. Some rutting activity overlaps into December and January as young does come into their first estrus, and some big bucks are taken during this early-winter period.

Hunting this period will be covered in greater detail in the coming two weeks, but it begs the question: do we have to wait another week for the deer lull or period of relative deer inactivity to end?
No, by all means, go bow hunting, but realize that many deer will be moving late. One trick that works for the quiet and patient hunter is to move a tree stand closer to the bedding area in hopes a buck will leave heavy cover before shooting time ends.

Don't take chances with deer

Moving closer to bedding sites offers many potential risks. It's possible to move too close, but one swirling air current that wafts scent back into the thicket can and will spook deer.

Some early-moving bucks will be up and moving toward scrapes. Bucks often wind-check scrapes from downwind. Try positioning a stand 50 yards downwind of an active scrape, and sit patiently and wait for a nice buck to show.

Some bucks love to travel the mid-day hours when most hunters are not afield. The animals can travel freely, and if a buck is working or visiting a scrape, the animal will probably approach the scrape from downwind. If you are 50 yards from the scrape, the buck will likely be between 10 and 20 yards of your stand, and offer a reasonably easy and open shot.

Beating the deer lull means understanding what is happening, why it happens, and determining ways to defeat it. It may not be easy, but very little about bow hunting big bucks is easy.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

A Lifetime Spent In The Outdoors

A lifetime spent in the outdoors hardly prepares me or most people for balky computers that puke out on a moment's notice.

Frankly, being down for more than a week from producing my daily weblogs is much like having an itch you can't scratch in public. It slowly begins to grate on one's nerves, causing normally sane people to break out Old Betsey, their trusty 30-30, and drill a few rounds through what appears to be a smirking blank screen.

Mechanical things vex me

Mind you, my idea of causes for bad humor are commonly associated with recalitrant things like husky outdoor motors that won't start. It occurs when a reel is dropped, gears get knocked a'kilter, or when your sure as death-and-taxes bird dog suddenly decides he is the village idiot, galloping at full speed through quail covers or past a solitary ruffed grouse hunkered down in the bracken ferns. The bird explodes from cover as the dog spooks it 100 yards out of shotgun range.

It appeared to be a simple fix to get this thing  back up and running. Simple, that is, if you know more about computers than I do. My idea of perfection on the computer is when my copy flows effortlessly across the screen, poke a few keys and as if by magic, my story appears for one and all to read. No problems, no headache, no naughty words, no problems.

Cures for computer problems

But, finding a cure for what ailed my computer for the past week was far beyond my mental acuity. I couldn't do anything except sit with a snarl on my face and continue to tell myself that I dasn't follow my primal urges. You see, my basic philosophy about mechanical things that don't work is rather simple: If a ball-peen hammer and a few solid swings doesn't do the job, try a 12-pound sledge hammer. A friend of my uses his lazy good-for-nothing computer as a means of sighting in his .308 at 100 yards.

It's a rather impressive sight to see what had been a cantankerous but wonderful laptop computer with three .30-caliber bullet holes through the screen. It seems only fitting for a hunter to take out all of his pent-up anger, animosity and rage on the cause of his problems. However, such drastic measures do nothing but put more money in the pocket of the local computer salesman.

I have no need for an anger management class. I can keep my savage thoughts in check. A call to my favorite web guy should do the trick. Ah-ha, he's gone for a week to a retreat. That's fine, they both deserve to get away but what about my computer. That's easy. I do nothing about it.

Go bow hunting

It's times like this when it may be more worthwhile to climb up into a ladder stand and hunt deer. Oh no, it's another spate of east winds, which is the worst hunting wind in my area. I can't find a stand with protection against the dreaded east wind ... except one. And my wife is sitting in it, proving she's smarter than me.

So, after a frustrating week the site is back up and running. I tend to be optimistic about everything in life, including my knowledge of deer hunting, but when it comes to computers and the quick fixes that make them work, I am the eternal pessimist. My glass is half empty because my usual fumble-fingered treatment of my computer usually means the other half of that glass of water will soon be knocked over into the keyboard.

That's my kind of luck.

A Lifetime Spent In The Outdoors ((tags: balky computers, deer hunting, hammer, ladder stand, snarl))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Me & Max: Learning Life's Outdoor Lesson

CLIO, Mich. - Max Donovan and I were buddies for years. We went back to the early 1950s when rooster pheasants flushed from mile-wide cornfields, ditch banks and dogwood-choked fence rows. We trout fished and hunted when black ducks had time to circle before dropping in for a greeting from our high-brass No. 4s.

Max taught me almost everything he knew about the outdoors, at least most of what he felt was worth knowing. He coaxed me through the woods with a big dog fox over my shoulder or while dragging out a farmland buck. He taught me why mallards take off and land into the wind, and how to set decoys in a pungent swamp-mud marsh so puddle ducks would pitch into our spread at spitting distances.

Learning life's lessons

He taught me what personal courage and integrity meant. He showed me how to be a man through example, and did it in a way that wasn't painful unless you were the kid who chose to help a very dear friend.

Max was my mentor. He taught me about the outdoors. He showed me how to hunt buck deer and shepherded my skinny bones through all phases of duck and goose hunting on nearby Saginaw Bay. He taught me how to read the water to wisely fish a lake or stream, and how to hunt crows before the Feds offered them some protection.

Mind you, Max did all this with a brand of guts few folks ever need to know about. Most people give up on life, but he was born a hemophiliac (a bleeding disorder) and at age 11 lost a leg in a tractor accident.

He enjoyed the outdoors on an artificial leg, what he called a wooden leg, and even after a car wreck mangled both hands, Max could still out-fish or out-shoot anyone I knew. Give up wasn’t in his vocabulary.

He was a shambling warehouse of outdoor lore. He shared that knowledge with me and wasn't above about it. He also wasn't above using one or more object lessons to pound sense into my thick skull.

A humbling experience hunting fox 

I'm so mindful of when we were hunting red fox on four inches of fresh winter snow, and the red runner had outsmarted the hounds. I was mad because Max had sent me in twice to work out the fox tracks for the hounds but I'd lost the trail.

"I can't find the tracks," I complained, bitterly.

"Boy, you get your sorry butt back in there again and straighten out them hounds," he said. “And be quick about it, hear? I’m cold, hungry and tired of holding his Browning autoloader all morning.”

"Max, I can't find any fresh fox tracks. The dogs have it tracked up."

"Listen, kid. Foxes don't have wings, and they can't fly, and with snow on the ground, they gotta leave tracks. Find where that fox checked those dogs, and get goin' now. You hear? Now git!"

I heard, and my ears burned and my eyes smarted from the verbal rebuke as I trudged back across the Genesee County field, entered the woods and found the hounds boo-hooing at the lost track. I then found where Ol' Red ran a log for a distance before jumping off, and I sicced the hounds on the hot track. Max had taught me not to quit.

Ten minutes later, his Browning 3-inch 12 gauge shotgun boomed once, and I knew the chase was over. He didn't miss shots at fox very often, and he didn't miss much in life. He lived each day to its fullest, and each new year was a personal triumph, whether in the hospital or home.

He was a fine judge of character, and often said: "A no-account hunter or slob fisherman is a disgrace to society, a waste of skin, and a hazard to the pastimes we love. Be yourself, be as good as you can, and remember that when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Never forget it, kid, and never give up on life or what it deals you."

Little lessons that produce results 

He taught me how to fish a tight line with two minnow-baited hooks for perch, and how to twitch a Russian Spoon for big yellow bellies through the ice. His only concession to his wooden leg was he only fished Saginaw Bay when the ice was thick enough for a car to drive on. The chance of slipping was great, and a fall could lay him up for weeks.

Max wore a droopy mustache, and was as comfortable as old hunting clothes, you know the kind, all broken in with all the rough edges smoothed out. His homespun philosophies were appropriate for all occasions, and he was seldom wrong about people or outdoor things.

He savored the lakes, streams and the woods like a vintage wine, and he loved winter. We dogged foxes and caught Saginaw Bay perch, and he taught me a trick or three about catching pike from inland rivers. He was good at everything he did, but didn’t brag on it.

Max was long on manners and stubborn to a fault, and felt anyone with little respect for dogs, kids or women wasn't worth much. He could nick his face while shaving, be laid up bleeding in bed for a week and still grin at the young boy who would come to soak up outdoor knowledge at his bedside. Max never gave up on life, and he wouldn't let his health problem beat him.

Me and Max were a team 

The young boy had found a friend, a person who passionately loved the outdoors, a man who respected the fish he caught and the game he killed. He loved animals, birds and fish, and apparently young boys, and gave them a long measure of respect.

He was a wizard with a duck call, and one foul and nasty day on Saginaw Bay with a hard nor’easter blowing in, flecking foam off the whitecaps, we were tucked back in the cattails in a canoe. The water was two feet deep and I towed the canoe while Max sat back and enjoyed the ride.

“Set up so the decoys are in front of us with some landing room in the middle so when the ducks come over the cattails with their legs reaching for the water they will offer an easy shot. I want the dekes 35-40 yards out. You and me got full-choke shotguns and we don’t want the birds too close.”

I’d just set out the last decoy and was about to climb into the canoe when he whispered: “Wait! Got us some black ducks circling. Don’t move, and they’ll drop right in. Be real still now!”

“Max,” I whispered, head down while Max ran a feeding chuckle through his Mallardtone duck call. “I don’t have my shotgun handy.”

“Shoulda’ had it with you while putting out decoys,” he said between feeding chuckles and a soft come-back call. “Serves you right! Hush now!”

He dropped the duck call from below his shaggy moustache, picked out one black duck that was stooling to the decoys and shot. It splashed down at the far edge of the bobbing decoys.

“As long as you’re in the water, bud, how ‘bout fetching that black duck,” he chuckled. “Give you something to do while standing around with no shotgun in your hands. Might be smart to take it with you this time.”

Knowing my role in this arrangement 

My role in gaining knowledge was to help a crusty old friend, and he took delight in taking me over the hurdles. His bluster had the desired effect: I learned while fetching, toting and helping him.

"A man who can't shed an inner tear for something he kills doesn't deserve to be called a hunter," Max once said. "There's more to hunting than killing, and more to trout fishing than killing a limit. A man must know when he's had enough, and it doesn't take much to satisfy me these days. Give me good friends, good outdoor activities and a fine family, and a man can't ask for much more than that."

He rambled through 60 years with what many considered a physical disability, but it seldom slowed him down. He loved life with an obvious passion and was devoted to those who helped share his personal triumphs and tragedies. He knew what he wanted when death came callin.

Looking death in the eye with a certain style 

"When I go, I want to be planted on a side hill looking down at life going by," he told me during a break in our last duck hunt. "And when I go, it won't be on opening day of deer, duck, goose, pheasant or trout season so I'll mess up other people’s outdoor plans.”

"I've never died before, but when it comes time, I want to do it with dignity and a large measure of class."

He kept his promise in mid-July, nearly 30 years ago, when he died. He was a tough old bird who I dearly loved, and his brand of guts, honesty and tenacity will always be his legacy. I think of him, and my twin brother daily, and hope they've found a great trout stream where we can fish during our first reunion.

That will be a good time although I suspect I’ll be gutting and gilling Max’s trout for him. That was one of my chores back in the day.

TITLE: Me & Max: Learning Life's Outdoor Lessons ((tags: black ducks, bucks, canoe, cattails, crows, dave richey, decoys, dekes, dogwood, fox, ducks, geese, hemophiliac, hounds, lakes, mallards, Mallardtone, Max Donovan, mentor, nor'easter, northern pike, perch, puddle ducks, pungent, red fox, red runner, Russian Spoon, Saginaw Bay, streams, trout, winter, wooden leg, woods))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Old Outdoor Magazines Reveal Our Fishing-Hunting Heritage

It's difficult to know where we are going unless we know where we have been, and looking through old outdoor magazines is a pleasant way to spend free time. If you are like me, and are a hopeless romantic when it comes to all things related to fishing, hunting and reading about these pastimes, perhaps this is a good time and a wonderful way to gain a greater understanding of our outdoor heritage.

Many years ago I acquired  the fabulous magazine collection of the late Ben East of Holly, Michigan. He was the long-time field editor for Outdoor Life magazine where he worked his red-pencil magic on articles written by other writers. East worked for the magazine for 41 years, and also wrote hundreds of magazine articles for other magazines before beginning his Outdoor Life career. We shared several years of our lives when I was writing full-time and 95 percent of my work went to Outdoor Life, and he was an excellent mentor. His magazines and extensive files spanning his 60-year writing career came to me following his death.

Careful storage of Ben East's valuable magazine collection

I have carefully stored those old outdoor magazines (as many as 1,000 of them) and other historical files, in a temperature and humidity controlled atmosphere for nearly 20 years. Now, after reading and studying them, it's come time to part with about 300 magazines from various publications. Storage space has become very limited, and this calls for a drastic but necessary decision to let some magazines go. 

Why collect old outdoor magazines? Frankly, the front cover illustrations on older magazines were graced by full-color drawings by leading wildlife artists of the day, and they have become collectible. These color cover drawings had the power to inspire a reader, to make them dream of a fishing or hunting trip that would be the capstone event of their sporting lives.

These drawings evoke a sense of the wilderness and of wild places and things. The artists could capture some of what today''s  photo-illustrated covers cannot. I get goose bumps looking at those old covers, and as a kid of 12 years, my twin brother George and I had our own subscriptions to Field & Stream, Outdoor Life and Sports Afield, the Big 3 outdoor magazines of an earlier era. We greeted each magazine arrival with great anticipation, and read the articles from beginning to end, cover to cover.

Learning about our outdoor heritage

We immersed ourselves in the outdoor literature at a time when outdoor writing only meant writing about fishing, conservation issues and hunting. They were my link to the past, to another era when the outdoors only meant the consumptive sports of fishing and hunting. These were not spectator sports, but were participant sports where what you caught or killed was eaten.

What these magazine covers did, and something current outdoor magazines can't do, is show human emotions. The drawings could be funny, gritty, raw or tug at your heart strings. One could see dejection, happiness, sadness, or it may portray a funny scene. Each cover had an emotional element that was readily apparent when seen, and the covers depicted things that readers could relate to.

Those stories, and particularly the color covers and inside b/w and color art, were the stuff of excitement. The writers wrote Me and Joe stories where people went fishing and hunting, and the reader was welcome to come along for the literary ride. We shared vicariously in the writers' defeats and successes, and felt as if we were right at their elbow as they made the final stalk on a big ram or caught a heavyweight bass. We traveled to far-off countries, hunted lions and tigers with Jack O'Connor and other firearm writers, and came away with wild and vivid experiences. Those stories carried us off to one adventure after another.

Meet some of the legendary magazine writers

Those were not the days of the how-to story. Instead, those writers knew how to capture the imagination and the thrill of an outdoor experience and weave it into a great read. Many of those writers were legends in their own time. Men such as Russell Annabel, Charles Askins, Havilah Babcock, Erwin Bauer, Vereen Bell, Ray Bergman, Joe Brooks, Nash Buckingham, Chester Chatfield, Bert Claflin, Eugene Connett, Paul Curtis, Byron Dalrymple, Henry P. Davis, Ben East, Charles Elliott, Corey Ford, Arnold Gingrich, Hugh Grey, Sparse Grey Hackle, Roderick Haig-Brown, Van Campen Heilner, Ray Holland, Cal Johnson, Elmer Keith, John Alden Knight, Claude Kreider, Robert Page Lincoln, Jason Lucas, Art Macdougall, Gordon MacQuarrie, Jack O'Connor, Ozark Ripley, Ben Robinson, Robert Ruark, Andy Russell, Archibald Rutledge, H. P. Sheldon, Fred Streever, Edwin Ware Smith, Burton Spiller, Tap Tapply, Harold Titus, Ted Trueblood, Townsend Whelen, Frank Woolner, Lee Wulff, Ed Zern and many others held our minds in their hands as we read along and enjoyed every moment of every story.

Meet and treasure the outdoor illustrations of these legendary artists

However, as great as these writers were, it was the artists who drew the color cover illustrations that took our mind away from other things and captivated us with the artistic mastery of their drawings. There were artists named Robert Doares, Charles Dye, William Harnden Foster, Arthur Fuller,  Howard Haskell Hinton, John Newton Howitt, Lynn Bogue Hunt, Francis Lee Jaques, Marguerite Kirmse, J. F. Kernan, Bob Kuhn, Harry Livingston, Edwin Megargee, Harold Megargee, Wiley Miller, P. B. Parsons, William Schaldach, G. Tyng, Walter Wilwerding, Edgar Wittmack and many others.
Here's the deal

A total of 301 of these magazines will be offered for sale but there are far too many to list here. If you are interested in some great old outdoor magazines from Ben East's personal collections, send a personal check for $5 with the word magazines in the subject line, and I'll send the complete list which notes the magazine name, date of publication, a listing of some of the authors in that issue, and notes on the artist and topic of that particular cover. Your $5 fee will be refunded from the cost of the first purchase. Orders of $50 or more will be shipped free. I can send scans of the covers but please limit your choices to three per order.

Various magazines being offered

Magazines include Boy's Chum, Field & Stream, Fishing Facts, Fishing & Hunting Guide, Forest & Stream, Fur-Fish-Game, Great Lakes Fisherman, Hunting & Fishing, Hunter Trader Trapper, Michigan Sportsman, National Geograpic (only one), National Sportsman, Outdoor Life, Outdoors, Outers Recreation, Outdoor Recreation, Outdoorsman, Sports Afield, The Michigan Sportsman,The Northern Sportsman and The Sportsman. Most magazines are one of a kind and all are scarce while some are rare. Sales will be made on a first-come basis.
Categories of outdoor magazine covers
This listing is broken down into broad categories including Atlantic Salmon Fishing, Bass Fishing, Bears, Brook Trout, Comic or Mood Scenes, Deer & Deer Hunting, Duck & Goose Hunting, Exotic Wild Game, Game Bird Hunting, Hunting Dogs, Lake Fishing, Misc. Outdoor Action, Muskellunge, River Fishing, Saltwater Fishing, Various Wildlife and World War II Related.

How to pay

Make checks payable to David Richey, Box 192, Grawn, MI 49637. Enclose your complete address (home) and an e-mail address as well as the magazine name, publication date and price. These magazines will make a novel and much appreciated birthday or Christmas gift. Although I don't recommend it, magazine covers do look wonderful when framed under glass, and hung on a cabin, den or recreation room wall wherever sportsmen gather. Each order will be accompanied by a letter from me certifying that these magazines originated from the outdoor magazine collection of Ben East. E-mail me at www:daverichey.com to determine availability before ordering.

Please note that there is a wide variation in prices, which is determined by the artist's stature as a magazine illustrator, content, scarcity, presence of inside art, and topic of the cover art. These magazines date back to the 1920s through the 1950s, and only a very few are newer.

Here is a rare opportunity to own something that once belonged to the legendary Ben East, the Dean of Michigan outdoor writers. All lists will be sent by e-mail. I'll look forward to hearing from you.

TITLE: Old Outdoor Magazines Reveal Our Fishing-Hunting Heritage (tags: artists, authors, bass, categories, color artwork, conservation, consumptive sports, dave richey, Dean, defeats, emotions, fishing, hunting, legends, lions, Me and Joe stories, old outdoor magazine artists, old-time outdoor writers, outdoors, rams, successes, tigers, writers

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

How To Control Most Human Odor

Humans have some funny notions, and oddly enough, some believe them. Our beliefs often are very strong about things concerning hunting, and we believe them even if they are not true.

The problem is our Daddy or Gran'daddy told us these hoary old thoughts were true. Some of these myths have been passed down from one generation to the next, and most are lacking any basis in fact.

We may smell good but not to a deer

For instance: we may think we smell just dandy after a bath or shower using a liberal dose of shampoo and soap. We think we smell as natural and pretty as a rose garden, and it's possible that we may smell dandy to ourselves and other humans, but a whitetail deer would probably think we stink. 

To a deer, we probably smell as bad as Peppy La-Pew, the skunk, after a face-to-face with a speeding 18-wheeler and getting squashed. We, as humans, can smell the pungent odor of road-kill skunk. Deer, if they get downwind of us, can smell us as easily as we smell Peppy's lingering odor.

I used to be able to smell a fox if I was within 50 yards downwind of the animal, and then in a teen-age quarrel with a beefy guy much larger than myself, I hit him in the fist with my nose and my sniffer hasn't worked right since. Nor were my fighting abilities, so that fight at age 19, was my last. Sadly, the nose still doesn't work well.

But, this is about fooling deer. A reader wrote today and asked what scent eliminating sprays work. I advised him that he had several options, and one was to buy a Scent-Lok suit. It's the route I choose even though my Scent-Lok suit is now old and a bit tattered.

Eliminating personal odor

He wanted to know what he personally could do to eliminate his personal odor. He wanted a shortcut to success without saying so, and even when using the scent-eliminating sprays or Scent-Lok clothing, it is not a cure-all for a person's hunting ills.

However, scent-eliminating sprays and Scent-Lok suits can work in much the same way as deer scent or fishing lures do. If the angler or hunter believes in them, their use will usually make that person a better sportsman because hunters are more likely to take the necessary precautions to avoid being winded.

Many years ago, while toiling for The Detroit News as their staff outdoor writer back when they still had a weekly Outdoor Page, I was sent some Scent Shield scent-eliminating spray. Me and several other sportsmen were hunting deer in the Club Country of Montmorency County as the guest of a good friend.

A taunt from a fellow hunter

A guy I invited on the hunt shot a button-buck the first night as it stood 12 yards away, staring at him, and he was bragging on his bow-shooting prowess. He asked what I saw, and I told him I'd drawn down on 15 different deer that night, including two antlered bucks, and chose not to shoot for a variety of reasons. The most important reason I didn't shoot was both animals were small 1 1/2-year-old bucks.

One thing led to another, and he as much as called me a liar, saying that no one can draw on a deer without getting spotted or winded. I told him that he was dead wrong, and he wanted to bet some big money.

"OK, sport, you've been bragging up your new video camera," I said. "I'll prove it tomorrow night. I'll draw down on every deer I see within my shooting range, and you can videotape the action but don't be spooking my deer. I'll be a nice guy and not take your money but I'll teach you a lesson about opening your mouth before thinking."

Spraying my boots and clothing

I climbed up into an oak tree. I'd seen a bunch of deer follow a trail on the far side of a rundown fence next to the big oak. I sprayed my boots, groin, legs, torso, butt, back, arms and gloves. I sprayed the Scent Shield on the inside and outside of my cap and my face mask as well.

The guy was crosswind along a fence-row about 50 yards away where he could see me and the deer as they stepped over the fallen fence. Each time one came by, I drew on the animal and aimed at it as if I was going to shoot before letting up. The first 26 animals were all button-bucks, does and doe fawns, and as the herd began to build 25 yards downwind of me, it became tougher to draw without one of the deer spotting my super-slow movements.

I successfully drew on all 26 deer, one at a time as they passed my tree, and No. 27 was a decent buck. He walked out, I drew, aimed and killed that animal.

The joker now had to believe it could be done. He had videotaped me drawing on all 27 deer as they stood directly downwind of me. I wrote that story for The Detroit News, and Scent Shield, the first maker of scent-eliminating sprays, was off and running and Michigan sporting goods stores sold out of the product overnight.

Other sprays to try

Lately I've been using Vanishing Hunter spray, which is made by Buck Fever Synthetics in nearby Manton, Michigan. Phone them at (888) 824-9894. I'm also using Scent Killer from Wildlife Research Center in Ramsey, Minn. I go through the same ritual day after day: everything gets sprayed good, and I don't get winded. However, in all fairness, I'm either in an elevated coop or downwind of the travel trails.

I'll also trickle some milkweed fibers into the breeze every few minutes. If any drift downwind to the trail I'm hunting, I pick up and head elsewhere or won't hunt. Getting winded ruins more hunts than anything else. 

I know how to sit still, and haven't spooked an incoming buck or doe in many years. Scent-eliminating sprays certainly have a major place in a hunter's repertoire but nothing can beat being downwind of deer.

Keeping boots and clothing odor-free

I keep all of my hunting clothing and knee-high rubber boots in an air-tight plastic tub. I take the tub out of the car, carry it 50 yards away, sit on a folding chair, and either wear my Scent-Lok suit in cooler weather or lightweight camo clothing in warm weather. I stay away from the car once I've sprayed down my clothing.

Walking hard and fast to a hunting stand can get a guy (or gal) all sweaty, and  that isn't good. The moisture soaks into clothing, and although we may not be able to smell ourselves, it's dead certain that a deer can smell us. I'd rather take an extra 10 minutes to reach my stand, and be cool and collected, than rush and have my clothing saturated with perspiration.

Whenever I use scent-eliminating sprays, everything is sprayed. The front and back of my hunting pants and shirt, my boots, face mask, gloves and hat. I stay away from gasoline and exhaust fumes, and I'm clean when I head out into the field. Some people kid me about my fetish for being scent-free but I shoot more and bigger bucks than they do and have more opportunities for good shots.

The key is to pay particular attention to those areas that are most likely to get sweated-up during a walk. This would include the head, underarms, groin, rump and feet. Such areas get sprayed thoroughly before every outing, and since I usually hunt seven days a week, my hunting clothing is washed on a regular basis.

Atsko SportWash

Washing camo clothing should be done in Atsko SportWash. It has a gentle cleansing action and does not contain brighteners. Tide and other common household detergents used to wash our clothes contain brightening agents that "make whites look whiter." Me, I want my camo to look dull so it blends in. I don't want bright-looking camo clothing.

I've seen people wearing old camo clothing that has been washed so many times that it is faded out and almost glows in sunlight. I have poor vision, but if it looks bright to me, it must look like a blinking neon light to an incoming deer. The animal may not see the hunter but it can probably see the unusual light-colored blob in the tree. Guess what? That light-colored blob happens to be you. It may be time to buy some new camo.

Using the proper cleansing agent and the proper scent-eliminating spray can help hunters score providing they are properly set up in a good spot, play the wind, do not move, know when to draw, and don't make any noise.

Neither Scent Shield, Vanishing Hunter, Scent Killer or even Scent-Lok clothing can keep hunters from making that one mistake that can and will spook deer. If they get pegged by deer, nothing will enable them to salvage a shot at a wary animal.

These hunter accessories can only make good hunters better. And you've got to be plenty good and scent-free to keep shooting good bucks, year after year, and you can take that little tidbit to the bank.

 TITLE: How To Control Most Human Odor. ((tags: arms, Atsko Sno Seal, back, boots, Buck Fever Synthetics, camo clothing, check wind, dave richey, face mask, gloves, groin, hat, head, oak, Peppy LaPew, rubber boots, rump, scent eliminating sprays, Scent Killer, Scent-Lok, Scent Shield, skunk, slow walk, sniffer, underarms, stinking hunter, wind))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Bow Hunters: Avoid Tunnel Vision

Tunnel vision occurs when a person is in a high-stress situation. The buck is seen approaching, and ever so slowly it moves closer, and you want to shoot that buck. You have a very strong desire to take that animal.

It stops, rubs a tree briefly, then stands back to admire his handiwork, hits another lick on the bark, checks it out again, and continues toward you. He stops, and can't smell you or any danger, but he is in no hurry.

The anxiety level of a hunter builds after the third or fourth stop for the deer to putter around doing big-buck things, and then the animal moves forward again. He is now 50 yards away and will soon have a date with destiny. Your breath is labored and ragged, and you feel a bit light headed.

His antlers are big, possibly the largest whitetail buck you've ever seen in the wild. He stands, out of bow range, and surveys the area. He doesn't smell or see any danger, but he didn't grow a rack with 10 good long points and a 20-inch inside spread by being stupid.

Preparing for a bow shot

He stands, motionless, head up and looking around. He's not spooked, but just being extra careful.

Satisfied, he moves to within 40 yards. The rack seems to grow even larger the closer he gets. The hunter is sucking air, and begging silently for a 20-yard broadside shot. The thought of shooting this buck makes him dizzy with excitement, and his heart is racing and beating hard.

Sucking air, the hunter draws his bow

A full load of adrenalin is streaming through your system, and the buck closes to 35 yards and then to 30, where he stands behind a thin screen of brush. Jolt after jolt of adrenalin has you as wired as drinking 10 cans of Ya-Hoo!

He offers a brief 25-yard shot but your eyes are riveted on that rack, and you don't want to make a mistake. He's coming slowly, just let him move into the 20-yard range and then wait for a broadside or quartering-away shot at this huge buck.

Finally, he steps into range, turns to offer a quartering-away shot at 20 yards. The buck stares off toward other deer 100 yards away in the field, and you raise your bow, stare at the antlers again, come to full draw, aim and turn loose an arrow.

There is a large thwack, and the buck races off while the arrow and broadhead sail off into the brush. Excited, gasping for air and feeling you made a killing shot, you climb down and follow the Game Tracker string to the arrow. There isn't a drop of blood on it.

A victim of tunnel vision

Tunnel vision had set in and when the hunter aimed and shot, he aimed at the major focal point on that buck -- the antlers. He forgot to force himself to pick a spot behind the front shoulder. His continuous focus on the buck and his majestic rack was his undoing because that is where he aimed.

Total concentration is paramount during the aiming process. Once I know a buck has antlers, and decide to shoot, I never look at the antlers again. I focus on the heart-lung area, shoot and the deer dies.

A buddy of mine went on a wild boar hunt down to Tennessee with me many years ago, and I warned him against studying the length of the boar's tushes. These big curved teeth are fascinating, and my friend looked at the teeth, aimed and hit the boar in the top of the head. It wasn't an immediate killing shot, and I hollered to "shoot for the heart-lung area." He did, and the boar died a quick death.

Tunnel vision doesn't just happen to police officers in a fire-fight with the bad guys. It also happens to hunters all the time, and most often to sportsmen with very little hunting experience.

It can ruin a hunt, but there is no need for that to happen. The trick is to determine whether it has antlers, and if it is what you want. Once that has been determined, forget about them, and intently focus on the vital area.

Sound hunting advice

Once you draw back an arrow, and aim, do not look at the antlers again. Pick a tiny spot behind the front shoulder, concentrate on that spot, make a smooth release, and do not drop your bow hand until the arrow makes contact with the deer.

Big bucks come often to the television hunters, but for most bow hunters like you and me, it can be a once-in-a-lifetime deal. The timing is too important to waste time missing an easy shot. Deep 100 percent concentration, and not tunnel vision, is the key to success.

TITLE: Bow Hunters: Avoid Tunnel Vision ((tags: adrenalin, antlers, anxiety, bow, buck, concentration, Dave Richey, destiny, focus, forget about antlers, heart-lung area, high stress, hunting, missing, pick a spot, rack, success, tunnel vision, Tennessee, timing, tushes, wild boar))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors