A Great Hunting Dog and Many Memories

There is something very special that happens to your heart when a solid-as-Sears pointer slams to a stop, lifts a front foot and his stubby little tail goes rigid.
It has happened to me many times. I’d walk in behind a great pointer, shotgun at port arms, and look in front of and over the dog and 10 yards away. Too many people study the ground directly in front of the dog, and a pointer may be on a bird that is 10 yards ahead or to either side. Fine field work is what endears good dogs to their owner.

Remembering the gut-wrenching loss of a great dog

The pleasures of owning a dog died with my German shorthair, Fritz, who came with some truly great bloodlines and who died many years ago. There were many reasons why no other dogs have entered my life, and losing an old friend was the major one.
Fritz, like many shorthairs, was bullheaded and stubborn to a fault. He could get into more trouble than a fox in a hen-house, and he always thought he was hunting for himself. He didn’t realize that he was supposed to hunt in return for his daily meals and in respect to the man who brought him to this outdoor dance.
He was a terror, and his idea of hunting was to be a half-mile and three fallow fields ahead of me. I’d work him on a long leash, and he’d sit, heel and was steady to wing and shot as long as the rope snugged him in at about 25 yards. Take the lead off, and he attempted to set a new speed record for crossing three open fields and busting one pheasant after another along the way.

Teaching Fritz to "hunt close"

Finally, in desperation after finally catching him after a long sprint, I loosened his collar a bit, stuck one of this dark front paws through the collar, and turned him loose. He made one step and fell over whining. I got him back up on three legs, and he tried to run off again. He was scolded and told to hunt close.
An hour later, feeling sorry for the dog, I pulled his foot out and off he went like he had a booster rocket under his tail. Another long-winded sprint, and my feelings of regret changed to one of quickly solving this problem. The next two days he hunted on three legs, and wasn’t happy about it but he hunted within 25 yards of me.
He worked the cover slow and cast from side to side, and we put up hens and roosters over his rather lop-sided point, and I’d praise him in person and to anyone who would listen, and after two days of punishment, we went out the third day.
We had a heart-to-heart about his past behavior, and his more recent way of staying close, and he seemed to pay attention. It was a gamble worth taking, and I slipped his foot from his collar. He looked at me, and I patted his head and said “Hunt close,” and he began hunting into the wind. He cast back and forth, and never exceeded the 25-yard maximum.
A soft “Whoa” was all I needed to steady him.

A steady-to-wing-&-shot

He locked onto point, and I whispered Whoa, lifted his tail, and he looked like a granite carving. I stepped in front, saying “Steady now,” and he was rock solid. The ringneck pheasant boosted into the air with a raucous cackle, his long-barred tail streaming out behind, and I swung with the bird and down he came.
Fritz, after his introduction to a lead rope and the foot through the collar, never gave me another problem. He hunted grouse, pheasant and woodcock, and his expertise was superb. He would hunt with the neighbor kids, my Dad and brother George during that era when hunter orange clothing wasn't required, and there were only two rules for them: hunt safely and don’t shoot at low-flying birds.

Living & hunting through Fritz's last year of life

The last year of his life was a painful ordeal. His hips were shot from arthritis, and he always begged me to take him. We’d hunt near home, and he would gimp through the fields. He wasn't steady afoot but it certainly didn’t affect his hearing or nose.
He’d zero in on cackling roosters at dawn, and we’d move on them when shooting time opened. With luck we’d take two quick roosters, and then it was a slow and painful walk home for a dog in great pain. I’d pat his head, tell him I loved him, and he’d wag his bobbed tail. He knew we'd had countless great hunts together, and he'd given his heart and his trust to me. His reward was my pleasure with him.
Our last hunt came a few days later. A magazine deadline was met, I grabbed my shotgun, got Fritz up and we headed out. He slowly worked two different birds, both were roosters, and my shooting was better than average. Fritz pointed, and I shot both birds, and then he sat down. I kneeled beside my old friend as he whined and shivered with pain, and I picked him up and carried the heavy dog home in my arms, sniffling back tears and knowing he’d run has last race through good pheasant cover.
Two days later, during the last week in October as cold winds blew down from the north, Fritz left me and went to that area where all good bird dogs go when they die. He was buried along a fence row that often produced a good number of flushes, and on occasion I still think I hear him snuffling the scent of a big ring-neck 10 feet in front of his nose.

Lasting memories

It isn’t, of course, but there is the memory of a rugged and staunch bird dog that never learned the meaning of the word quit. He could out-hunt me, and it’s the biggest reason I’ve never owned another bird-hunting dog. A new dog could never measure up to Fritz, and it would be unfair to expect him to.
So I live with these haunting memories but no photos of Fritz except he's the front dog on point in the top photo. Lots of white hair, some black and brown hair, and some liver ticking in a few places. He was the finest bird dog I’ve ever owned, and I’ll never see the likes of him again. There’s a place tucked back in the corner of our hearts and minds for lost friends and good bird dogs, and whenever my mind registers a hit on man or dog, I reach up, dust off a fond memory and trot it for world to see.
Dog owners are fond of saying that a bird hunter is truly blessed to have one unforgettable bird dog during their lifetime, and it must be true. Because mine was Fritz, and he's been gone for 35 years. Here is my salute to you, old friend. When we meet again up yonder, we'll go hunting with shotgun in hand one more time.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

A Hunting Trick Worth Trying

Hunters can do all the preseason scouting they wish. They can have tree stands conveniently placed, and ground blinds in strategic locations, and make every effort to be scent-free while staying downwind from the hunting location.
Still, there are times when bucks just will not cooperate. We can have a nice buck patterned, arrive early because we know the buck is as spooky as a house cat in a dog kennel, and still our best-laid plans can and do go awry.

Bucks can be very unpredictable

Sometimes the bucks won't show up because of something we've done, and there are other occasions when someone else spooks them unwittingly, but the bottom line is that bucks seldom play by our rules.
They play by their own game plan, and until we learn how to crawl inside a buck's head and determine what makes him tick, and do this or that, we must live with the prospects of being foiled again and again by an animal that doesn't show up as we often predict he will. That's another reason why they call this hunting.
Last year I had a nice buck that had been seen using a specific runway through heavy cover. One of the elevated stands was at the far end of the trail and back in thick cover, and my thought was to sit up on him at that location. I eased into the area, climbed up into the stand, and kicked back to relax.
I knew when he moved, and knew where he moved, and he was as regular as a glass of prune juice. Except for that night ...

He took the trail least travelled

He avoided the area like it was the last place on earth he wanted to be. I saw several does and a couple of small bucks, and some fawns, but the big rascal failed to make an appointment. He took a totally different trail out of the beddinh cover.
The next evening, we went through the same procedure, and again he didn't show up. The rut wasn't on yet, but this flaky buck was breaking his habits. I tried a third night, with equally unsuccessful results, and decided to hunt elsewhere.
My new spot produced the sighting of a nice buck, much too far out of range, but that animal captivated my attention for several days before another hunter took him from a different stand. Where to go now?
My decision seemed easy. I planned to go back and try for the other buck. A friend had seen him moving about in that area, and I slipped into the stand noiselessly. The wind was perfect, and again he didn't show up.
My mind usually tells me the buck is bedded down in the immediate area, and has spotted me going to the stand or leaving it. This, I feel, was the answer but how to solve the problem. This could be a test of wills, mine versus his.

A sneaky way in for a hunter

Other stands were hunted for several days, and I finally decided to have a friend drop me off with his truck. My thought was the buck was probably being spooked by me walking in, so why not let the pickup truck do the spooking.
The friend drove me to the stand, and I was up the ladder like a fox squirrel heading for the tree-tops. He puttered around a little bit until I was in the stand and out of sight, and then he slowly drove off down a nearby two-track and the woods settled down to silence.
As the afternoon turned into early evening there were several does, fawns and two or three small bucks moving through. The big buck still hadn't showed up, and I was beginning to think he had moved out of the area and taken up temporary residence elsewhere.
Thirty minutes before sundown, the slanting muted rays of late sunlight were seen glinting off polished white antlers. The deer stood up, moved forward, and stepped into the tiny clearing near the stand. He looked around, especially where the truck had come from and the direction it had gone, and seemed satisfied it was gone.
The animal had been bedded down just 40 yards from the stand. The buck, completely fooled by my arrival by truck, strode confidently out in front of me.
The bow eased back to full draw, and the buck lowered his head to sniff the scent of one of the does, and my arrow slid in behind the shoulder. The buck humped up slightly, kicked his legs back, and ran off.
It was a good hit, I knew, and moments later I walked up to the fallen buck. During the field dressing, I found the heart with a two-blade wound through the center of it. Being hit in the heart often makes deer hump up and kick, and the animals die quickly.
Hunters must recognize that big bucks often bed down near a stand where they can watch hunters come and go. Having another person drop them off, and stay there with the motor running until the hunter is out of sight in the stand, can pay big dividends.
It's a trick I've since used for many years, and this tactic particularly holds true when hunters use bait after snow covers the ground. Bucks and does often bed near the food source, and being dropped off and picked up with a motorized vehicle can work wonders for hunters.
Deer can't count the number of people in a truck or on a four-wheeler. Sometimes it gives hunters an edge and sometimes it doesn't. Nothing works all the time on whitetails, and that is why whitetail deer are such fascinating animals to hunt.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

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

Uncommon Fishing Experiences

Strange things happen while fishing, and many are remembered long after a limit catch has been caught, bragged about and eaten.

It was about this time of year 30 years ago when I was trolling Manistee Lake near Filer City with brother George, and Randy Colvin of Flint. We were trolling X-4, X-5 and U-20 FlatFish at putt-putt speeds.

I was trolling a U-20 silver FlatFish off the starboard side, Colvin was pulling a U-20 in grey-pearl off the port side, and George was using some weight and was fishing a chartreuse with red spot U-20 right behind the boat while running the outboard motor.

An against all-odds catch

It was a cold and blustery day when Colvin had a jarring strike. I began reeling my line in immediately when I felt the boat rock as he set the hook, and his line broke from a too-tight drag and too much hook-set. I'd made about 10 turns on the spinning reel handle when my rod tip shot down, and I was into a jumping fish that cleared the water behind the boat.

George reeled up, Randy reeled in his broken line, and that steelhead and I had a good battle. I gradually worked him out into deeper water, and soon he was swimming in circles 10 feet below the boat. I eased him to the surface where George slid a net under the fish.

No big deal here. But imagine our surprise when we learned that one small treble hook point of my lure went through the line-tie of Colvin's FlatFish. The odds of such a thing happening are well off the charts.

He howled that it was his fish, and me being a reasonable gent, suggested that his over-zealous hook-set and my finely timed retrieve was what led to my cleverly inserting a hook point of my lure through the line tie of his lure. Thus, any reasonable person should know that not only did I land the fish but also gained a new fishing lure.

I relented, after further reasonable thought, and gave him back his lure. I kept the fish. That seemed only fair to me.

Hooking the same big Chinook salmon three times

Another time, during my river guiding career from 1967 through 1976, I had occasion to fish the Betsie River with a fly rod and wet flies for chinook salmon. My clients had caught a bunch of fish, and being thoroughly tuckered out from running up and downstream after fish, had pulled up stakes after two days and went home.

A huge king was spotted upstream from a tree that had toppled into the water, and he was holding court with a big hen. I hooked that old boy once, and he ripped and snorted downstream, tangling my line in the fallen tree branches, and broke off.

I fished elsewhere for an hour, went back to the big king, and he was back out guarding the redd. I changed fly colors, rolled the dark fly in front of his nose, and he darted out to grab it. I set the hook, he uncorked a tremendous leap that landed him in the tree branches again. The line broke like sewing thread.

Two hours passed before I stopped by to pay him another visit. There he lay, alongside the nearly spent female, and they rolled up on their sides in unison, she discharging a stream of golden eggs while he let loose a cloud of white milt. They spawned until her eggs were exhausted and he could only muster one tiny puff of milt.

They had ended their spawning chores, and death would soon follow. I eased into the river again, made one cast, and the big male moved forward to intercept it. I set the hook, set it again, and literally forced him across the surface toward me. He slipped past me as I steered him clear of the tree branches and into the open river.

He headed downstream like a barge drifting out of control, and I followed him as fast as humanly possible. He rolled to the surface, thrashed around, turned sideways to the current, and he let the swift water carry him down to a deep hole. I knew the hole was clean of debris, and carried the fight to the now sluggish fish.

It was perhaps not the most noble end to his life, but he had fulfilled his destiny and would soon die, his carcass tumbling end over end downstream until it lodged in a log jam. I eased him toward shore, skidded his massive head up on shore, picked him up by the tail and it was over.

That fish, two hours later, weighed an honest 38 1/2 pounds on certified scales, a major catch on a fly and fly rod and 10-pound tippet. It's said that salmon are born orphans and die childless.

And that is a true fact, and I'd like to think this great fish (the largest Chinook salmon I've landed on a fly rod) graced my life and died in an honorable fight rather than succumbing to the wasting-away process that befalls all salmon. He blessed my life with his presence and his strength, and that memory will live with me until my death.

Three big brook trout from Algonquin Provincial Park

One last topic concerns a trip to Ontario's Algonquin Provincial Park for brook trout. My wife Kay and I hiked into a sparkling little lake as I carried a canoe on my shoulders. We began a slow tour along the first dropoff out from shore, and cast copper-color Devle Dogs toward shore.

Kay hooked the first brook trout on one of those Eppinger spoons, and it fought a stubborn battle on six-pound line, and I eventually netted a 5 1/2-pound lake brookie. It had broad shoulders abd within five minutes she caught another fish of about the same size.

Two hours later we pulled up to a big boulder along shore, and got out of the canoe to stretch our legs. My third cast produced a jarring strike, and a few minutes later I eased a five-pound brook ashore.

We fished the rest of the day without a strike but the size of those three brook trout have seldom been equaled elsewhere. It produced wonderful memories we'll both remember for many years.

Uncommon Fishing Experiences ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, brook trout, canoe, Chinook salmon, Devle Dogs, FlatFish, fly fishing, trolling))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Hunting Pre-Rut Bucks

Pre-rut deer are like a walking billboard. They advertise themselves in many ways, and savvy hunters may want to bone up on some of the pertinent data that bucks leave behind as they travel around their home turf.

Deer scrapes are where you can find them during the pre-rut. Those scrapes found along field edges often are "boundary scrapes" that mark the edge of a deer's normal range. They are usually small, and somewhat regularly spaced along a wooded field edge.

A deer will open them up, and may never return again. They serve little purpose other than to mark their personal range. I've seen cases where 10 or 12 scrapes will follow a field edge, and once opened, they are never touched again. A string of boundary scrapes should not be confused with a scrape line or a rub line.

When do bucks visit hot scrapes?

The really hot and active scrapes may be visited several times every day, and most of them will be found in fairly thick, heavy cover although some of the largest scrapes I've ever seen were located in a grove of sparse pines.

The scrapes in that area were all as big as a washtub, and every one had fresh urine, a hoof print and antler tine marks in them. Each one had a licking branch directly above the scrape, and most of the nearby pine trees were nearly girdled by the rakings of a large buck. Know this that a really big and hot buck may yank the licking branch down but I've had great success by tying a new limb in its place

I hunted that area several times over two years, and eventually the big rubs and scrapes disappeared. The buck was working on trees 10 to 12 inches in diameter. It would take a huge buck to do that kind of damage, and I never heard of such a buck being taken and it's likely he died of old age. He may never have been seen.

Some tips on scrapes and what they can tell you

Some of what follows may seem elementary but it's important stuff to know. Fresh and actively maintained scrapes are round or oval in shape, and sometimes one will overlap into another scrape. The ground is pawed away until all grass, leaves and twigs are scattered away.

Nearby trees often feature smooth bark but I've seen many rubs on cedar and pine trees as well as popple, tag alder and maple.

A scrape offers great indications about when the buck is visits and works the scrape, and the clues are easy to spot. Most, if not all, of the pawing will be done in one direction. The dirt, grass, leaves and twigs will pile up at one end of the scrape.

If the dirt is piled up at the end of the scrape closest to thick cover, it usually means the buck is visiting it in late afternoon or early evening while leaving his bedding cover. Dirt piled at the end closest to open feeding fields often are visited in the early morning as the buck heads for heavy cover to bed down.

New or old? Good question, and easily answered. Some scrapes are made, and then abandoned. Perhaps the animal was spooked by a hunter, and went elsewhere. Active scrapes are damp with urine, and often feature one or more hoof-prints and/or antler tine marks.

Old and abandoned scrapes fill in with grass and fallen leaves. An active scrape will be cleaned of all debris once to several times a day, because this is where the buck wants to meet an estrus doe. Of course, bucks and does often meet in open fields or woodlands but the initial contact usually occurs near an active scrape.

Scrape hunting can be exciting

Watching a buck work a scrape is really neat. A young buck knows he is supposed to be doing something but he doesn't have a clue. A buck with some age will often wind-check the scrape from downwind, and if it appears to have been visited by an estrus doe, the buck will tend the scrape.

He will paw the dirt, nibble on the overhead licking branch, rub his forehead scent glands on the overhead branches, urinate in the scrape, paw and stomp it into mud, and hang around nearby. This is when a hunter may get a chance for a shot if he is positioned properly.

Some does often hang close by waiting for the buck, and sometimes, the buck will follow the doe's trail. Such tending bucks often give a low grunt as they follow the hot trail. Bucks usually wind-check active scrapes 20-30 yards downwind of the scrape. The hunter, if he sits 40 yards downwind of the scrape can often  intercept the buck coming through and wind-checking as he walks through the arera

Scrapes full of debris are not being used. Scrapes can go from hot to cold overnight, and a previously active scrape that shows no use provides hunters with another important clue. An active scrape that suddenly shows no use means just one thing: the rut has started.

Rut hunting is a fascinating time to be afield but remember the hours of 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. are mid-day hours that bucks prefer. The bucks can appear at any time during the day, and watching a randy old buck hot on the trail of a young doe gives us all hope. Maybe, just maybe, she will lead him past our stand.

One can only hope. Waylaying a nice buck near a scrape does happen but the hunter must always be ready. Big bucks rarely offer a second chance.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Do Thought Waves Spook Deer?

Ever see a buck coming through the woods and suddenly it turns and runs off for no apparent reason?  Have you ever had a doe upwind of your stand stop, snort, blow, stomp her foot and run off even though the wind was right and you hadn't moved?

Sure you have. The  topic of discussion that follows may disturb some hunters, could cause other sportsmen to wonder if this topic is true, and if so, how does it happen?

Trust me on this: This topic will be a quantum leap for some deer hunters when they read it. I've stated these opinions at deer-hunting seminars over many years, and some folks sit with their mouth agape in total disbelief.They look as if they've been sucker-punched.

Don't bail out on me just yet. These thoughts, if you choose to accept and think logically about them, may make you a much better deer hunter. We'll be talking more about your mental thoughts rather than physical actions.

My many years of testing this theory

It's not important that hunters believe as I do, but over 30-plus years I've tested this theory on countless occasions. Each time it's tested, the result is the same. I strongly believe what follows is true, and all I expect of readers is to study it and decide if they believe and trust these findings.

Know this before we go any further. There is much that modern science doesn't know about the brain, brain waves, and how it affects people and many of the wild animals that we hunt.

My thoughts on spooking deer

Here goes: I believe, being a supremely capable and knowledgable predator, that deer -- especially does -- can sense the presence of danger without the benefit of movement, noise or scent or other stimuli. I once hunted mountain lions in northern Arizona, and my guide told me the reason he feels cougars kill mostly mule deer bucks is because those deer are so full of themselves they act and feel immune to any possible danger.

They are not alert or attuned to the presence of danger. Does, on the other hand, are constantly alert to the possibility of nearby predators.

My thoughts are pretty straight-forward. I believe that thinking hard about killing an incoming buck or doe can transfer some type of danger signal to the animals. Are human thoughts carried by brain waves? Do these vibes, for lack of a better description, throw out a silent alarm that does can pick it up much easier than bucks?

Clear your mind of all predatory thoughts

I never think, after spotting an incoming buck or doe, that I am going to shoot that animal. My brain stays in neutral, idling along without conscious thought. I purposely avoid thinking about shooting and killing the animal. I may and often do spend that time thinking about my next article to be written.

My belief is to never stare at a buck or doe. Looking into a deer's eyes seems to allow that animal to feel nearby human presence. My thoughts remain neutral, and when I draw, aim and shoot, I'm concentrating on my aiming point but am not thinking about killing the animal.

Testing this theory over many years has proven informative. My normal hunting method is to allow my eyes to sweep over the deer without lingering on any part of its head or body. It's easy to establish the animal is a buck if antlers are visible, and that data is stored in my mind. I know it is a buck but no longer think about it, and I never dwell on such thoughts, which I feel are counterproductive to my hunting success.

Instead, I think about going hunting the next night, which stand may be productive under the current wind direction, or I'll recall something that has absolutely nothing to do with hunting. I could just as easily be thinking about painting the basement walls, which is a horrid thought, even when trying to fool a nice buck.

My means of nonviolent thoughts

However, my mind knows why I'm out there, and that is to possibly shoot a buck or doe. However, my mind focuses on another thought or topic, or on nothing at all, and when it tells me it's time to shoot, the bow is drawn, the red-dot settles behind the front shoulder and the arrow is gone before my mind tells my finger to shoot.

The deer never senses a threat or any unease. It doesn't feel my predatory instincts coming its way, and the deer remains relaxed. Calm and cool thoughts or even not thinking at all is far preferable than telling yourself that the shot will go through its lungs and heart. That may happen, but if you don't think hard on it, I'm convinced the deer will not bolt unless you move or make a sound at the wrong time.

On the other hand, I've often thought about killing the buck as a specific test. I'll think: Here comes a buck, and look at those antlers. My eyes scan the bone on the buck's head, and then I strongly focus my attention on the heart-lung area.

The buck, suddenly alert, turns his head to look around. My eyes lock on his, a predator against a nice buck. His head turns slowly away, and I come to full draw, think about driving the arrow into the chest cavity, and at about that time, the animal suddenly bolts off in panicked flight.

There has been no noise or sudden movements on my part, and no way the deer could smell me. But my thoughts were keenly focused on shooting that animal, and perhaps these strong thoughts come because of my many years of hunting experience shooting many deer. Perhaps my vibes are stronger than those of others who have largely been unsuccessful at deer hunting.

A human example to illustrate my point

Think of it this way. I no longer drink, but back in the day, my entering a bar was always an experience. If I was a stranger, I'd immediately sense the vibes of many other people looking at me, and then would come a strong feeling that someone was staring intently in my direction. With practiced determination, my eyes would scan the room until the person staring at me was located.

It was then I'd size up the situation. Is this a friendly person or one who wants to put knuckle bumps on my noggin? If I sense agitation or aggressive hostility, I'd turn and walk out while it's possible. It's the same thing with deer. Flight is always preferable to a fight.

An example of street smarts

In some areas they often say a person has "street smarts." Why, pray tell, don't deer have "woods smarts?" They do, and their instincts are more finely honed toward survival than yours or mine.

If deer sense danger, however it is transmitted to them, it becomes an instinctive reaction. It's like an adrenalin rush: it triggers the fight or flight response. Deer don't grow large antlers by ignoring these little niggling feelings. I draw the line at granting deer human-like qualities, but am convinced these animals can pick up hostile vibes from someone trying to shoot it with a bow.

Deer can do the same thing as humans although how they process this invisible information is an unknown factor. Years ago, while shooting some of the deer photos needed for magazine and newspaper stories, the deer would hear the shutter click, look around, and nothing happened. Minutes later another photo or two would be taken, and the deer would become used to the noise. Nothing happens, and they would soon relax.

It's strange but deer seem to sense when a hunter or photographer means no harm, and while an old doe may go charging off, if they are not unduly alarmed, they often return within minutes.

Deer that sense a hunter intent on shooting them can get as freaky as a mule deer doe when she suspects a nearby cougar. She doesn't want to be dinner, and takes whatever evasive actions are necessary to avoid the predator. Bucks, on the other hand, seem unaware of danger unless it picks up some predatory vibes, catches a whiff of human odor or sees some movement.

This is where it becomes extremely important to remain in a non-predatory mind set. Think about killing, and things can quickly change and game can vanish.

A quick recap

Never look deer in the eye, never think about shooting them, scan past the animal, never put a lingering stare on the deer or its antlers, and if I'm about to shoot, my mind is emptied of all predatory thoughts. Ninety-five percent (or more) of the deer that have fallen to my arrows were dead before they knew their lives were in danger.

I repeat: it's not necessary that you or anyone believe this, and hunters can continue to hunt as they choose. However, when I hunt, my purpose is to get close to deer, never get them excited, and if the right buck comes by, I'll take the shot. Cougars hunt the same way and they are far more deadly predators than most humans.

It's quite likely this may be the most radical bit of deer hunting material you'll read this year. I'm not trying to change your hunting style or your mind-set, but ask you to consider an alternative line of thinking when deer approach. Many of the key hunters in North America, if pinned to the floor with a painful hammerlock, will agree with these thoughts. All I'm taking is your time (the line from an old song), and my hopes are you'll give this the mental consideration it deserves.

Feel free to share your thoughts. Do you agree or disagree? Your comments, please. E-mail me your thoughts at < dave@daverichey.com >. Thank you for your time.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Grunt Up A Buck

The 8-pointer was slowly making his way along the edge of a thick tag alder run, and was crosswind and 70 yards from me. I gave one short, and one slightly longer grunt. Both were rather obnoxious sounding.

Not to the buck, though. He stopped in his tracks, swiveled his head in my direction, and slowly turned my way. There is only one big-time rule to follow when using a grunt call for deer.

Never continue calling if a buck is coming

If the buck heads in your direction, don't call again. If the animal comes 50 or 100 yards, stops and looks around in obvious confusion, turn your head away from the deer, and give one soft and muffled call. The buck is looking for a direction, and you can say "Over Here" with one grunt. Put the call away and get ready for a shot.

On came the deer, and he swaggered up to within eight yards, and stopped. He milled around for a minute or so, snuffling the air, and then turned broadside. My FirstCut 90-grain broadhead took him behind the front shoulder and exited the brisket. He went 40 yards and folded up.

I've used calls on bobcats, coyotes, deer, ducks, elk, foxes, geese, moose and wild turkeys. If any one thing holds true, it's that animals and birds can usually pinpoint almost exactly where the call is coming from.

I've used many calls from a tree until four years ago. I've used all types of deer calls including those made by A-Way, Knight & Hale, Primos, Stratton Game Calls, Woods-Wise and many others.

One problem that has always always concerned me was that I know deer and other critters can lock onto a call's precise location. Who has ever seen a deer grunting from an elevation position? I haven't.

Try this company's grunt call

H&M Archery Products of Willis, Mich. makes a novel grunt call that I've been using for four years. Contact them at H&M Archery Products . Their philosophy is that deer don't climb trees so why should a hunter call from a tree?

They produce a call with a 14-foot length of coil-kink resistant rubber latex tubing that another 12-foot length of tubing can be attached to, and a hunter can sit 15 feet up a tree and lay out the other 11 feet of rubber tubing, and call from a tree but the grunt comes from ground level where it sounds most natural.

Any condensation occurs in the tubing, not in the call. This helps eliminate freeze-up in cold weather.

I began with the 14-foot length but soon added another length that allows the call to be places off to one side of my tree where an investigating buck will be properly positioned for a shot.

The nice thing is this tubing arrangement will fit most tube-type calls. It puts the sound at ground level where it is most effective.

Deer calling tips

Many hunters blow a sequence of grunts that is much too long. I keep my grunts short, pause and grunt again for several seconds, and then stop. Ten minutes later try calling again. It also helps to be rattling while calling to re-enact a calling sequence, and it offers a double-barreled approach to calling deer.

There are many different types of deer vocalizations but the grunt call works well. I've had little or no success with a fawn bleat, and only minimal success with a doe bleat.

One thing that works is to grunt if you see a buck. I've called in numerous bucks that were unseen, but calling works very well on visible bucks. It gives hunters a chance to judge the deer's reaction to the call, but if the deer come and then stop coming, muffle the call and grunt softly one more time. If they keep coming toward you, do nothing but get ready to draw and shoot.

Obnoxious noises that work

One of the most exciting things about deer hunting is grunting in a good buck. The noises that come out of an inhale, exhale or inhale-exhale call may sound like your hunting camp buddy two hours after a plate of refried beans, but the grunt call does work.

As is true with everything else about bow hunting whitetail bucks, nothing is 100 percent except Uncle Sam tapping you for a yearly donation and that some day you will pass on to your just rewards. That said, grunt in a good buck and if he charges in with his neck hairs standing up, you will quickly be a converted to using a call.

Once, a number of years ago, I spotted a buck 100 yards away. A grunt was made, the buck came to within 15 yards, and no shots were taken. The buck eventually walked off, and another grunt sequence brought him running back to the call again.

This sequence was replayed four times before the buck was allowed to wander off on his own. It seems to work equally well on old or young bucks. Just experiment with calling sequences but just don't call too much or too loud.

Trust me, it can pay off ... on a fairly regular basis. A grunt call should become a part of every deer hunter's repertoire.

TITLE Grunt Up A Buck ((tags: buck, dave richey, deer, frequent pauses, grunt, grunt call, stop calling))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

The Pre-Rut Is Underway

The first signs of the pre-rut were seen tonight, and even though the weather was cool and windy, the evidence is pretty conclusive.

In the past the bucks have been traveling in their little bachelor groups, moving loosely in small groups with some minor head-bumping and gentle antler touching, but the most obvious sign of all is that bucks are now actively starting to chase does.

A fall has kept me from daily hunting

A look around today after 10 days of on-and-off bow hunting because of a fall (no, not from a tree stand but off my deck steps), and an aching back proved other facets of the pre-rut or chasing phase is now underway. I went in today for an MRI to see what, if anything, I did to myself.

This chasing period precedes the actual breeding period or rut, and it is essential to the rut. Many deer biologists, and myself for that matter, believe the chasing phase is just one of the triggers that puts a pre-estrus doe into estrus. It fires up the sexual needs of both buck and doe.

I saw this last night as a medium-size 8-point (there seems to be an abundance of 8-pointers in many areas) took an adult doe around in circles, through the hoops, over the hurtles and in and out of tag alder thickets. She had to be in a serious pre-estrus condition although she still wasn't all the way there yet. Most of these very early estrus does are older animals. Young does seldom come into estrus in December or January.

Had she been ready, she would have stood for him. Instead, she led him around like a puppy dog on a leash, and whenever she stopped, he would smell her and off they'd go again for another long romp. It went on for 30 minutes during an overcast and misty evening before they disappeared from sight.

For me, I never even picked up my bow. This was a head-clearing time for me to move past my back injury, and to accept the fact my back would never be the same after this hard fall. Shooting a deer wasn't important, but being in a stand was.

Another pre-rut sign

Another good sign of the rapidly approaching pre-rut phase is that many bucks are no longer friendly or tolerant of their longtime buddies of a week ago. Another 8-point, a bit smaller than the one chasing the doe, and a small 6-point, came through the area and was heading down a trail near me but out of bow range.

They stopped in fairly thick cover 25 yards away and the small buck started to lower his year-and-a-half-old antlers at his buddy. The larger buck quickly demonstrated why he was the more dominant of the two animals. One antler tine stuck in the rump of the smaller animal, he jumped three feet in the air as if being goosed with a cattle prod. They moved on past me, the smaller buck hanging back, and a bit of blood could be seen around the puncture wound.

No doubt the smaller buck now knows who is leading this little parade, but it's doubtful if either animal will do any breeding this year. Those honors usually are reserved for the much larger and more dominant bucks.

Look for agitated does. Bucks won't be far away.

Increased agitation or demonstration of seniority or strength and antler size, coupled with the chasing of does, are two major keys to solving the arrival of the pre-rut phase. This period is almost always in full swing by Oct. 25 or a day or two earlier, and most of the actual breeding will be accomplished from Halloween through Nov. 15, with some local or regional exceptions.

There are other keys to the pre-rut kick-off. I found two or three new scrapes along one trail used to get to my stand that weren't there a week ago. Hunters are finding that scrapes are being opened up, and such scrapes often vary in size from that of a dinner plate to four-feet in diameter.

All feature the obligatory overhead licking branch, and wet earth below the branch. The licking branch is often frayed and broken, chewed to a frazzle, and the earth smells of deer urine and other secretions (what we actually smell is the urine). There often are rubs on nearby trees, and hoof prints and antler tine marks in the earthen scrape.

Reading a scrape, and learning what else a scrape can tell you will be discussed in a future blog. It's much too lengthy to add to this piece.

The pre-rut or chasing phase has just started. It's just getting geared up, and will be in full swing by this weekend. Get out, enjoy the day, and let's hope a doe will lead a nice buck past your stand during the next two or three weeks. Think positively about the possibility of success and it may come true.

TITLE The Pre-Rut Is Underway ((agitation, bow hunting, chasing phase, dave richey, licking branch, pre-rut, scrape, urine))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Rainy-Day Whitetails

There are those times every year when a bow hunter can hear a whitetail coming for 100 yards. If the animal is upwind, and the leaves are as dry as corn flakes, the sound carries for a long distance.

Whitetails depend on their hearing for survival, and dry leaves advertise their presence. The opposite is true when it rains.
The leaves soak up the rain, and a whitetail can ghost through the woods with barely a sound. This is an important reason for hunters to spend time in the woods when the rain is falling.

Soft rain is good for bow hunting deer

I've often written that deer love to travel when a soft misty rain is falling. There is a soft pitter-patting sound under such conditions, but it doesn't seem to bother the deer. They seem to be able to separate that soft noise from a dangerous noise without a problem.

These soft rains seem to get deer moving earlier in the evening, and it appears that deer move with more confidence during a soft rain. They appear more comfortable moving between bedding and feeding areas, and they seem to eat and move without hesitation.

I've had people ask if I feel a soft rain will carry human scent downward. I believe, to a small degree, that it does. I also think that low-lying ground fog will hold human scent near the ground.

Gentle rain & fog makes whitetails move

Soft rains and fog seem to go hand in hand during the autumn months, and I've seen some of my largest bucks under such conditions. The fog seems to offer big bucks a sense of security, and they seem to be on the move. This is most certainly true during the pre-rut, rut and post-rut, when buck and doe activity is high.

One thing about fog is it distorts the sense of sound. I don't know how many times I've listened to a buck grunting as he tends an estrus doe, and in the fog, my vision and hearing is limited. I've seen bucks appear and disappear in the rainy fog without ever seeing the doe, and there have been many times when the doe is visible but the tending buck cannot be seen.

It's at times like this that a hunter must be constantly alert. I remember one night several years ago just before the Nov. 15 firearm season opener, when I saw a half-dozen bucks appear and vanish into the fog. All were moving, all were grunting, and the antler and body size of each one indicated they were individual animals.

Judging distance in the fog can be difficult. I've talked with many hunters who may know the far edge of a deer trail is 20 yards away, and if a doe or buck appears in heavy fog, they feel the animal is much farther away than it appears. They aim high to compensate for this imagined difference and shoot over the animal. Know your limitations, and how far it is to a well-traveled deer trail, and believe in that knowledge. Trust that knowledge at all times.

The best advice is to put out markers. A measured distance must be believed, even if the fog does make the animal appear much farther away than it really is.

Times when rain appeals to me

I like rain on the roof, rain after my food plots are planted, and rain (on occasion) when I'm hunting. I dislike a steady diet of it, and it's easy to compare that to eating steak every night. One soon grows weary of the same thing on a frequent basis.

Hunting in the rain isn't too bad. It offers something a little different to a bow hunter, and that is fine by me. I enjoy a variety, a change of pace, in my hunting, and I can hunt in anything except a downpour or when the lightning is dancing across the sky.

Most of all, I like to hunt those soft misty evenings when the darkness comes early because of heavy clouds overhead, and when the whitetails seem to slip up on a guy. That is when a hunt really means something to me.

TITLE: Rainy-Day Whitetails ((tags: alert, bow hunting, buck, fog, ghost, grunting, hunting, mist, soft rain.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

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 couldn'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 buck's 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 becoming wrapped venison. 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 and walked out into the open. 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 about my choices.

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 outdoor 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 if 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 for me to shoot with unfailing accuracy because of my glaucoma. His head was down and out of sight, and he would be at 15 yards when both sides of his rack became 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 deer hunting is easy. This daily blog simply proves that for some people, hunting is far more difficult than one might believe.

TITLE Knowing when to shoot ((tags: buck, dave richey, decisions, desire, determining what I want, shoot or don't shoot))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors