Hunting pre-rut bucks

Bone-white antlers of a resting buck show above weeds during the pre-rut

The buck was banging its antlers against a tree, and I listened to him working a scrape for 30 minutes late last October. The buck was within 20 yards of me but he was screened by thick brush and was invisible.

I sat in my tree stand and listened. He was close enough to hear the urine hitting the scrape, and he was upwind and the pungent ammonia odor was strong. He worked that tree over, yanked at the overhead licking branch, and for all the noise and commotion he made, the buck was impossible to see.

I checked the spot the next day. He'd been working two scrapes, and one was eight inches deep and as big around as two large platters. The buck had pulled the old licking branch down, and I replaced it. It suited him because the scrape had tine marks and a hoof print in it, and the new licking branch looked pretty ragged. The second scrape was opened up, and the licking branch was chewed to a frazzle.

A spot with two or more active scrape should produce  if you don’t spook it

What was even more interesting was that the buck had opened up a third scrape. Huge clots of wet earth was piled at the north end of the scrape, and he had made it the night before. How do I know?

Buck scrapes have dirt and debris piled at one end or another, and if the dirt is piled at the end closest to thick cover, it generally means the deer is tending that scrape in the evening as he leaves the bedding area for a night of chasing cute little does.

This told me several things: One is the rut had not started but the chasing phase had set in. This chasing phase lasts several days before the full rut starts. As long as fresh activity is seen at the scrape, and it is being tended one or more times daily, the rut has not begun. Once the scrapes show no sign of activity, that means the rut is underway.

One thing few hunters realize is that the mid-day hours just before and during the rut can produce a fine buck.

This buck may have other nearby scrapes that it had been working, but once a buck is shot and is taken out of the woods, another will take its place. Nature abhors a vacuum, and when a big brown trout or a big whitetail buck is removed, another moves in and takes over.

Hunting from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. works well during the chasing stage and the rut. If possible, be in your stand by 9 a.m., and sit patiently. The bucks will move during the mid-day hours.

Hunt the mid-day hours during the pre-rut

I first learned of this phenomenon many years ago while hunting ruffed grouse. Two days in a row a buck was seen darting away from me in the same area. I checked the area, found his scrapes, and went back and set up a stand 30 yards downwind of it. The buck came by that first day at about noon, wind-checked the scrape from downwind, and offered me a 12-yard shot.

Hunting the pre-rut and the rut during mid-day hours can pay off. Sure, many hunters can't take time off work to hunt those hours, but keep it in mind for weekends. Hunt near natural funnels between bedding and feeding areas, and once the rut kicks in, start hunting the heavier cover.

My only real problem with hunting the mid-day hours is a personal one. I'm good for three hours maximum in a tree before everything gets sore. I'll stick it out until about 2:30 p.m., grab a bite to eat, and then hunt from 4 p.m. until legal shooting time ends. It means spending long hours in a tree, but it can pay big dividends with a husky buck and the hunting is more fun than writing about it.

This method has worked for me, and can work for you regardless of where you hunt. Try it this fall and see if it doesn't produce action at a time when no one is hunting. It's rut hunting's biggest secret, and now only you, me and several hundred thousand other people will know. Mark this blog and go back and read it again in mid-October, and maybe it will produce a nice buck for you next fall.

Ever taken a gobbler with a muzzleloading shotgun?

Make certain the firearm is properly patterned for a gobbler

Several years ago I killed a 24 1/2-pound long-beard gobbler while hunting in Iowa. My firearm of choice was a Knight muzzleloading shotgun with 150 grains of Pyrodex and two ounces of copper-plated No. 5 shot.

My first day of hunting with Tony Knight found us spooking a pair of roosted gobblers while opening a rusty and squeaky farm gate. Later, as we proceeded to look for unspooked birds, we stopped and began to call.

A nearby gobbler answered, walked right down the edge of an open field in broad daylight, gobbling his brains out, and one shot at 40 yards took care of him.

An easy shot with a muzzleloading shotgun

Mind you, 150 grains of Pyrodex and a two-ounce load of shot, produces a good bit of felt recoil. It wasn't excessive, but 100 grains of powder suits my moods much better.

The load isn't the issue here. I'm trying to decide in advance of April whether to try with a muzzleloader this spring during my hunting period. It worked well for me three years ago, and it was great fun, and the Knight muzzleloading shotgun is very tightly choked, and it works like a dream when shooting at 40-50 yards.

Mind you, I don't like to shoot gobblers that far out unless I can boost the downrange velocity without scattering birdshot all over the place. I have no qualms with shooting a 50-caliber frontloader with an extra-full choke  and two to 2 1/2 ounces of shot and three Pyrodex 50-grain for shooting at that range.

Five years ago, I sat down, and began calling an hour after daybreak, as rain and snow fell in a deluge. Fifteen hens and gobblers filed past me at 20 yards. The two big gobblers in the bunch had several hens between me and them.

Moisture in the barrel turned to sludge when mixed with snow

They disappeared from sight, and I waited another 30 minutes for those birds to move off, yelped once, and here comes a single gobbler running across an open field. He ran every step of the way until he was 30 yards out, and then he stopped, raised his head and began looking around.

I had a red-dot sight on my muzzleloading shotgun, and put the dot where his head and neck meet, and pulled the trigger. A sharp pop sounded, and the gobbler ran off like the hounds of hell were eating at his tail feathers.

The old adage of "Keep Your Powder Dry" came to mind, and I walked out to the car and drove 10 miles home. The muzzleloader was taken apart, the saboted shot cup and shot, and the black gooey stuff that used to be Pyrodex pellets, was pushed out the barrel. I had forgotten to put a latex thumb from a rubber glove over the muzzle to keep the rain out while i quickly set up my one-man tent blind.

What works is patterning a regular and muzzleloading shotgun

I really wanted to take another gobbler with the muzzleloading shotgun, but I have a Remington Model 870 pump 3-inch magnum 12 gauge shotgun that looks as it has been used to pound fence posts, but the shotgun is over 30 years old, and it shoots copper-plated No. 5 shot very well.

It comes with a sling, as does my muzzleloader, and it has produced gobblers from Alabama to Michigan. When the trigger is pulled, the bird dies. With it, my choice is to shoot birds at 30-35 yards. It has a full choke, but not the extra-full turkey choke found on many muzzleloading shotguns.

It is like an old friend. The stock fits well against my cheek, and nestles comfortably against my shoulder, and my good right eye lines up easily with the fiber optic sights.

The 12 gauge is a bit lighter than a muzzleloading shotgun to carry, and on a cross-country hike to find gobblers after the initial dawn action, that regular shotgun can be a big point in its favor. However, the muzzleloader has an extra-tight choke, and can easily kill birds at 50 yards if I choose to take a shot at that distance (which I've only done once). Make a decision which one to use and pattern it well.

Either firearm is fine by me, and in all honesty, shooting a gobbler isn't what tugs me gently into the turkey woods before dawn. It is the opportunity to attempt calling another bird within easy shotgun range. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, but for me, being there and having a gobbler circle me at dawn is what my hunt is all about.

Pulling the trigger and killing the gobbler is nothing more than a heavy layer of frosting on my turkey-hunting cake.

Winter and the Five Senses

A wonderful day on the river can stroke your five senses

Cultivating my five senses is easy during the winter months. Hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching are what enables sportsmen to fully enjoy the entire package of being in the wintry outdoors.

Winter ice fishing turns me on but there isn't much safe ice yet except on a few small lakes and ponds, and so I have to forgo watching the lowering of my rod tip as a pug-nosed bluegill sucks my bait down. Though I may not see that sight right now, or at least until we get more ice, there are countless other things for me and you to watch.

Saw a mature bald eagle soaring on the thermals yesterday, gliding first one way and then another, and their vision doesn't miss a thing. Stand still next to a tree, and they will drift through the sky, but if they spot a human, they will head elsewhere.

Your five senses, when used on an outdoor trip, improves the outing

Well, that’s not always true. An adult bald eagle made his living on the ice of Green Lake at Interlochen several years ago. This bold eagle would swoop down and grab a perch off the ice with an angler only 20 yards away.

Seeing a cold lemon-colored sunrise with frost sparkles in the air and the glint of weak light off ice- or snow-coated branches provides a kaleidoscope of colors. Ever notice how much sharper your vision seems on a very cold day?

Hearing is another of the senses I rely heavily on because my vision is so poor. Put me in a room filled with people talking, and I can't hear a thing, but put me in a tree stand and I can hear a mouse or chipmunk run through dry leaves 50 yards away.

Many times I've heard black bear or deer approach from behind long before I saw them, and it offers ample time to slowly prepare for a shot. The clamor of Canada geese in flight can be heard for long distances, and like a fog horn in pea-soup fog, it is a lonely and haunting sound. It's a fact that a black bear can be as stealthy as a hunting house cat, but I've heard every bear I've shot long before I saw the animal.

Is there anything than smells better to an ardent hunter than the crisp and nose-tingling odor of wood smoke on the wind as we make our way home to the wood stove of a hunting camp. A close second is the smell of fresh-brewed coffee or the crackling sizzle of bacon frying. The latter tantalizes the ears and the nose and triggers the need to taste.

We're short right now of prowling skunks on the snow, but I can smell foxes at a good distance if downwind of the animal. I also can smell changes in the wind, and that is something some people question. The smell of an approaching rain is something many people have come to recognize, but the air takes on a faint change as a new snow storms begins to build nearby.

Think each day about what you can hear, see, smell, taste, & touch

Walk into a grouse cover near an abandoned apple orchard or a wild grape arbor, and if you are downwind from either one, the winter odor is unmistakable. That smell is one that ruffed grouse seek out, and I’ve seen a pair of grouse lately near a winter frozen grape arbor. The birds are still hustling their vittles based on their autumn feeding frenzies of tart grapes.

Taste is normally associated with eating but years ago before there was a problem of beaver fever there were a few springs and tiny inland ponds that had the sweetest tasting water in the world. To dip and sip from those ponds or springs now is not only foolhardy, but a bout of beaver fever would always be a constant reminder of how our world has changed over 50 years.

Taste is an enjoyable sensation, and for me, pan frying a brace of lovely and winter-caught bluegills or perch is something I gladly apply a stamp of approval to, and it’s something I do often during the winter. I gut and gill them, pan-fry them, and pick them up like an ear of corn and slowly strip the  flesh from the rib bones. It is a tempting treat that will be long remembered.

Touching the knobby bases of a buck's antlers at the tail end of the archery season always provides me with a sense of wonder. How and why can antlers turn out in so many different ways is just one part of God's handiwork. All antlers seem as individual as finger prints.

These five senses bring an added bonus to the day - Try it!

The magic of the outdoors is best enjoyed when outside. Learn to test your five senses on a daily basis. Listen hard for the jackhammer rattle of a pileated woodpecker; watch for the slow and cautious approach of a nice buck; listen to the clarion call of geese as they circle and look for open water or grain still laying in a farm field; taste the delightful flavor of a cup of good coffee on a bitter cold day on the ice as the cold and wind tries to suck the warmth from your body; and never forget to reverently touch the buck, bluegill, perch or walleye while fishing or the soft fur of a cottontail taken ahead of a brace of yodeling beagles trailing a hot bunny track.

Our five senses add a special bonus to every outdoor trip, and it becomes especially true on a winter day when bright sunlight glistens off newly fallen snow. These senses magnify the outdoor pleasures if we just remember to use them at every opportunity.

A proper winter day means more than fish or game. Drink deeply of your five senses, and we find a new thrill in giving our five senses a good workout.

Bad winter days rattle my cage

A mellow day on Lake Michigan suits me to a T

Our house is structurally sound but some work needed to be done to make it look nicer on the inside and out.

Walls to be painted, carpet pulled up, all of this stuff leaves me cold. Some things got dinged up when my father was alive, and some things have just worn out.

Some changes were needed. I am living proof of a man who likes his home looking nice, but who gets a bit peeved when he can't sit at the table to eat and must sleep in a different bed because new paint is stinking up our bedroom.

Such things I find very annoying. Change doesn't come easy

It's easy to get a bit peckish under such situations, but I go into my office and work. It keeps me out of the way, and I don't have to look at the mess.
Watching people strip walls of old wallpaper leaves me cold. A new sink and other things are coming for the half-bath off our bedroom but only a toilet sets there now.

An old bed that belonged to my grandparents has been my bed for 30 years. Now there will be a new bed. I can accept the change because things will be nice when the job is done.

The question is when will it be done? Things move at a snail's pace, and slow doesn't match my mood. Order this or that, and wait two or three weeks. No one stocks inventory.

Things progress at the speed of maple syrup on a cold day

Some old carpeting has been pulled up, but the new carpeting won't be laid until the rooms are painted, the new doors hung, and the trim work has been completed.

We schedule things, and it always takes longer than planned. We order things and it costs more than we planned. Bathroom sinks and toilets must be ordered, and once everything is done, we'll have to order new carpeting. Who knows what color. We'll know later.

My wife understands this stuff, and I do not. Want a story, call me up and you'll have it tomorrow. Need a photo, it can be scanned and on your computer in 30 minutes. Want a shower pan for the shower, and it's a three-week wait.

I don't do well with house chores;  Never have, never will

I've never been a handyman. My knowledge of tools is pretty much confined to screw drivers and hammers. The more hammers and the larger, the better. I don't understand home improvements, and the cost and work involved in making such wholesale changes is almost unacceptable.

My recliner served me well. It felt great, worked just fine, and is gone along with a sofa, end-tables, another recliner and some carpeting in a trade-off with the builder for doing some work. Cool.

The builder is a good friend, and we both think highly of him. I'd rather he take the stuff in exchange for saving us some labor fees. However, we'll still have to buy a new sofa and some new chairs. I get confused about such things.

Steaming off wallpaper. Now there is a fine mess. It takes time, doesn't smell very good, and steaming means shreds of wallpaper everywhere. One small piece was found sticking to the bottom of my shoe. At least it didn't stink.

We're replacing 13 inside doors. Is that a lucky number or what? We called to donate them to a local charitable organization. They would be out in a week. A week to come to pick up 13 free doors? They didn't show up. Another appointment made for them to get them today. You got it, they didn't show. We're on again for tomorrow morning. I'm willing to take bets that they won't come.

My wife, her sister and a grand-daughter are ram-rodding this project. Guess how many votes I get? There's no place for me but away.
So I'm a bit tight-jawed. I try to keep my mouth shut to avoid hassles. I'm still not at the driving stage after eye surgery so I seek safe refuge in my office.

Don't know how many consecutive days of office-sitting I can take, but I think we may be a third of the way done on this interior rejuvenation. I keep waiting for that silly television program to show up, and within 30 minutes they turn a house into something grand and wonderful.

I used to sit and wait for John Baresford Tipton from the 1960s to arrive from the television show The Millionaire, announce his presence and give me a million bucks. John hasn't showed up in 40-some years, and it's doubtful the home redecorating show will do a 30-minute job either.

So ... it's time to gut it up, tough it out, stay out of the way and keep my mouth shut. This may be a democratic nation, but when refurbishing the house rolls around, all facets of democracy and freedom of speech fly out the window.

If you need me, try my office. Knock three times on the door if you love me.

Dreaming turkey hunting thoughts

A big boss gobbler fell to a well-placed shot during the spring hunt

It starts every year in late January. I submit my spring turkey application, and sit back and dream turkey thoughts. My turkey hunting vest hangs in the corner of my office. The pockets bulge with box calls wrapped in soft brown wash cloths, and secured with stout rubber bands to prevent an accidental sound at the wrong time.

The back of my vest has a couple of decoys and stakes, and there is a turkey wing I slap against tree trunks and brush to imitate a hen flying down to the ground at dawn.

Other pockets contain slate and glass calls, another pocket has a bunch of diaphragm calls, and scattered here and there is a crow call and an owl call although I rarely use them. There is a gobbler call that I have used perhaps twice in 35 years.

My vest contains everything I'll need for a turkey hunt

Most of my joy about turkey hunting comes from calling them. The idea of a big gobbler strutting his way to the call is a magnificent feeling. It is a wonderful sight, watching that bird react to soft clucks and purrs, and to watch a long-beard sneak through the woods, stop and go into a full strut and a booming gobble, is something I've experienced often.

Now me, I am not a good caller. Guys like Greg Abbas, Bob Garner, Bruce Grant, Arnie Minka, Phil Petz, Al Stewart and many others are good callers. Not me. I think I was tone deaf as a youngster, and never could sing a lick. I couldn't carry a tune in a picnic basket.
Countless records have been listened to, and there's no way the sounds that come from my calls sound anything like those on a record or tape.

The tapes have true sound quality, and the notes are crisp and sharp.

Mine tend to run together. There are calls I can't make, and I never try, but no matter how bad they sound to me, it matters little. It doesn't seem to bother the gobbler. Not one tiny bit!

Maybe the turkeys are as tone deaf as me. No one, write that down for posterity, no one is perfect all the time.

I've heard even expert callers blow a clinker once in a while

One of the secrets of turkey calling that I learned many years ago was that gobblers and hens, like men and women, have different voices. They don't sound the same, and humans are not meant to sound the same either. So if my turkey tunes are a little off, it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother the birds.

I've argued back and forth with hens, and on more than one occasion, my squabbling with a hen brings him to me. Where she goes, the gobbler follows, and more than a couple gobblers have met their fate by following a snarly old hen to my call.

I've read books on turkey calling, and the author advises leaving the diaphragm home if a hunter can't use it right. I always let the turkeys determine whether it is right or wrong, and even when it sounds wrong to me, the birds seem to accept it.

Turkey calling is the epitome of turkey hunting

Turkey calling, to my way of thinking, is not so much about what you say with a call as how and when you say it. There is a certain rhythm to turkey calling, and if a hunter has the sense to know the string of sounds and put them together in the right order, the birds may come.

There is much good to be said about never calling too much. A hen that stays in one spot, doesn't move and squawks at the gobbler may not call a long-beard in. But, then again, maybe it will.

Try a running call a little bit, perhaps answer one gobble to let him know where you are, and that may be all it takes to lure a big Tom to the gun.

However, having said that, I've long experimented with using two calls at once. If a gobbler sounds hot on the roost, and is gobbling and double gobbling, but won't move in your direction, try using a box call and a diaphragm at the same time. It sounds something like two hens, and sometimes it will cause the gobbler to come running to investigate.

Nothing ever works 100 percent of the time, and I've seen world champion turkey callers mess up. Too much calling at the wrong time is a dangerous practice, and hunters must have the experience needed to know when and how much to call.

Shooting the gobbler isn't why I hunt them. I chase this long-spurred bird because I thrill at seeing a snowball-white head bobbing through the woods as it comes to my call. I've been known to let the bird come in, look for the hen and wander off, just so I can catch the buzz of having a gobbler up close.

It's a thrill I hope never to lose, and I'll be practicing my calling for the next three months. Perhaps the practice will help but it's nothing to worry about. I know that with time I can call in almost every gobbler that wants to come.

The problem is that sometimes gobblers just don't want to come. Go figure.

My love of great outdoor writing

It doesn’t get any better than a big northern pike at sundown

I've been in this outdoor writing business for 44 years, and over that period I've met most of the greatest outdoor writers of our time.
Men like ...

John Amber	Erwin Bauer	Havilah Babcock
Nash Buckingham	Chuck Cadieux	John Cartier
Gordie Charles	Ben East	Charlie Elliott
Corey Ford	Ben Hur Lampman	Nick Lyons
Gordon MacQuarrie	John Madson	Jack O'Conner
Edmund Ware Smith	Norm Strung	Robert Traver
Ted Trueblood	Lamar Underwood	Charley Waterman

and many others.

All had one thing in common: they loved the outdoors.

It wasn't so much they loved to kill fish or game, but they enjoyed being out there and matching wits with fish or game. Things were a good bit different in those bygone days. Outdoor writers wrote stories that people loved to read. The how-to or where-to stories weren't in vogue a half-century ago.

No knock on current outdoor writers but many of those in the 1950s were great

They called that earlier brand of writing "Me & Joe stories." If a reader read close he could spot some how-to and where-to stuff, but what gave these stories legs was the writers could pull the reader into the story and make them read it.

We felt as if we were hunting sheep with Jack O'Connor, catching big trout with Joe Brooks, shooting ducks or geese with Lynn Bogue Hunt or Van Campen Heilner. We hung on the words of Robert Ruark as he sat at the Old Man's knee and absorbed some of the wisdom that old-timers handed down to the young 'uns.

Corey Ford was another favorite back in the 1950s and 1960s, and his Tales of The Lower Forty were funny but also shared some fishing or hunting wisdom.

Ben East, who lived near Holly, Michigan, was a friend and I spent hours watching him work his red pencil magic over a manuscript, cutting and splicing, turning words of some wisdom into pearls of wisdom. I thoroughly enjoyed my many conversations with John Madson, and believed that few outdoor writers could match up.

He did a great deal of work for Winchester and the Olin Corporation, and he could make the ingredients of breakfast cereal read well. He was a master of turning phrases, of setting scenes, and of working his brand of literary magic on a story. When he finished, the piece was a gem.

Ben East and John Madson were two or the best wordsmiths

Madson was arguably the finest true outdoor writer of the mid-1900s, and we spent many hours together before his death. I have a healthy-sized stack of his letters, and a common letter from one buddy to another became a piece of art when Madson put his hand to it.

There seems to be something that has gone missing when an article just tells the reader how to catch fish or shoot deer, or even worse, where to do it. The old-time outdoor writers did all of that but they also told readers why they should do it.

They wrote from the heart. They invoked our five senses and said why they should be important to sportsmen, and they knew how to drag the reader into the story and leave them at the end wanting more. That's the sign of a truly good writer.

Outdoor magazines no longer have strong editors. I sold my first "Me and Joe" story to Outdoor Life magazine in 1970, and back then, editor Bill Rae was an editor. Editors below his lofty position could offer their opinion, but Rae was a one-man editorial staff. If he wanted a story, he got the story, and suffered no nonsense from junior editors.

I sold a number of stories to Bill Rae, and he happily bought them because I could give him what he wanted and what he knew his readers wanted to read. Now, it's different; there is such a thing as "editing by committee," which doesn't bode well for the writer because many editors don't know what they want. Many want two or three rewrites from a professional outdoor writer. Things have changed and not for the better.

I sell many fishing and hunting books, and some old outdoor magazines on my website Scoop's Books, and I figure if a book is a good read for me, it will probably appeal to many of my readers. I enjoy going back to some of the earlier writers, and although some of their copy was stilted at times, they knew how to grab the reader's attention.

My personal method writing outdoor copy is simple: inform and entertain

It's always been my intention to write from the heart: to drag readers into the story; to offer them something that is nearly impossible to find today in the how-to, where-to world of outdoor writing, and I'm not ashamed to admit to a mistake. I tweak my readers five senses, and they seem to enjoy it.

What comes through in my writing is a deep and abiding love of the outdoors and of fishing and hunting. I know our natural resources needs some restraints, and I know that being afield is part of why we go fishing or hunting.

We share the outdoors with other user groups, and those of us who love these outdoor pastimes, are perhaps the last of our breed. And just think: all of this rhetoric is about our respect for the fish and game we catch and kill, and a deep love for being outdoors.

And it has all come to pass because of another love. A love of reading is what makes the long wait between fishing and hunting trips bearable, and that is why so many people visit this site every day.

I may be the luckiest person of all because I have a deep urge to write what people want to read. And for that, I'm genuinely thankful for my many readers. Keep reading and I'll keep writing, and tell your friends, neighbors and relatives about my website.

I thank you, in advance, for that consideration.

Follow hunting and ethical rules and treat non-hunters with courtesy

Two hunters with snowshoe hares and with a U.P. black bear

All people are bound by the laws of man to live by a code of ethics, but sportsmen have additional values to be considered if we are to be judged by what we believe are ethical actions.

Hunter ethics are more far reaching than many believe. They include a feeling and a deep appreciation for the animals and birds we hunt, the outdoor environment we and wildlife need and share, and the deep inner stimulation we feel when pursuing our pastime in an ethical, legal and well regulated manner.

This personal ethics policy hinges on those deeply-seated feelings sportsmen must have for the well being and continued health, welfare and habitat improvement of game animals and birds, as well as non-game animals and birds. Hunters must care deeply about what happens to all wildlife, and not just those species for which there is an open or closed hunting season.

Everything in nature serves at least two masters

The habitat that the small Kirtland’s warblers call home is every bit as important to everyone as that used by ducks, geese, pheasants, ruffed grouse, wild turkeys and woodcock.

But hunting ethics go far beyond this simple, yet personal, concept that govern our actions. Michigan laws place additional ethical demands on hunters, making our special-interest outdoor group the most regulated in the state.

Young, beginning hunters no longer can pick up a firearm and head for the woods, fields or marshes without lengthy and well supervised Hunter Education training and parental or other adult supervision. The same rules apply to anyone born on or after Jan. 1, 1960. Any first-time hunter born on or after that date must possess a hunter education certificate to purchase their first hunting license.

They must take a certified Hunter Safety Program, pass a rigorous examination and satisfy qualified instructors on their capability to practice hunting safely without endangering others, themselves and the property of landowners. They must understand the laws that govern their conduct while hunting, and people should be signing up for such classes as soon as they become available prior to next fall. The DNR can provide information on classes.

These training classes teach students how to handle bows and firearms safely, give explanations of wildlife management, teach game laws, and make certain that students understand the laws of safe hunting. These rules are common-sense thoughts that can help keep everyone safe.
All are necessary to obtain an in-depth knowledge of hunter safety, but ethics -- personal ethics -- are almost spiritual inner feelings, something that must come from deep within each individual. They are as much a part of hunting as carrying a firearm or hunting from a tree stand with a bow.

Hunting, and the freedom to hunt, is a part of our American heritage that should be as rich and deep as love of our family and this great country. The American Constitution guarantees us the right to keep and bear arms, but those arms must be used in a civilized and lawful manner.

This constitutional guarantee obligates sportsmen to abide by local, state and federal fish and game laws, and to have respect for themselves, the lives and property of others, and obviously, for the wildlife they pursue.

Recreational hunting is a sound game management policy designed to keep wildlife around in desirable numbers for the enjoyment of future generations of hunters and those who have no desire to hunt but enjoy the recreational value of viewing deer, elk and other game.

No longer is there room for slob hunters and deadbeats in our woods

Hunting satisfies a deep personal need for many people, and it can be a deeply moving experience. But it is as individual as our fingerprints. Each of us who hunts has a different viewpoint on how we should view our days afield.

Ethics, and the feelings hunters have for their sport and the wildlife we hunt, is an emotional package so deeply seated and meaningful that it's difficult to put into words so non-hunters or anti-hunters would understand.

We, as hunters, must develop our own personal code of ethics which goes beyond those laws and rules established by any sporting agency or group. Our sport will be judged by its personal and collective ethics, and the public actions of its many individuals.

Hunting actions and needs require a code of personal ethics to survive ... not only now but well into the future. How hunters behave now will determine whether we will have hunting in the not-so-distant future.

The public acceptance of  hunting and hunters by the public at large is critical  to continuation of our legal hunting pursuits. Act like a slob around non-hunters, and you may find yourself facing rules that shouldn’t be necessary. Idiots don’t deserve the right to hunt or to ruin others chances to spend time outdoors in a legal environment.

Collecting old outdoor objects heightens my outdoor pleasures

Another of my favorite collectibles are my Michigan turkey patches

Everyone collects something. Writers collect information, baseball fans collect cards of their favorite players, and hockey fans collect sweaters of favorite players or signed hockey-pucks or sticks.

My mother collected old Mason canning jars and hid change in old pill bottles. I go through enough pill bottles, but have precious little change to save. Besides, I prefer what little money I have to be in my pocket.

People have been known to collect string, wire and tin foil. Most of my collecting was related in one way or another to fishing, hunting or trapping for the past 55 years. I even have an old bear trap my Atlantic salmon guide used years ago to trap bear in New Brunswick.

My items of collection are different from those of most people

The world of fishing and hunting is rife with things to collect. My late brother collected old Michigan-made fishing lures and black-white postcards, especially those with fish on them. I helped him locate lures and he helped me track down old fishing and hunting books. It worked out well for both of us.

A buddy collects old double-barrel shotguns while another friend collects only Belgian-made Browning rifles and shotguns. Still another collects duck decoys from some of the old master carvers, another collects bamboo fly rods, and many others collect the bear, deer and turkey patches.

One man collects miniature fishing and hunting books. These tiny books can be as small as two inches high. There aren't very many of such books around, and most of them are very scarce.

Although most of my older traps have disappeared, there are still some No. 1 and 1 1/2 long-spring and jump traps used for muskrats, coons, mink and fox. I still have a few of the old metal stretchers we used to dry our muskrat hides prior to the sale.

I have a small collection of very low-numbered fishing and hunting licenses as well as some metal seals for deer, bear, moose, wolf and wolverine. Something makes folks like me collect such things. I have a number of old fishing and hunting digests dating back into the 1940s and before.

Mom did her thing with Mason jars and tinfoil. Dad loved western novels, and especially those published in the 1940s and 1950s.  He also had a bunch of the Dell map-back novels, and many are scarce and desirable to old paperback novel collectors, often for their covers.

My guess is we feel closer to our chosen pastimes of fishing and hunting when we are engaged in collecting some of the memorabilia that accompanies our passions. I also have a small knife collection, including an old Marble Arms Company Boy Scout knife.

Books, knives, old, used shotshells & other objects of interest

Are any of these items worth great sums of money? No, they aren't. I used to reload shotgun shells, and somewhere along the way had the chance to pick up some Winchester-Western 12-gauge AA plastic shotshell cases. Some people are looking for them because they were a great shotshell for reloaders, but one wonders what I'll do with them.

It's obvious to most people who read these daily blogs that I collect fishing and hunting books. Why, you ask? Because it's difficult for us to determine where we are going if we don't know where we've been. The books give me a wonderful idea of what has gone before, and besides, I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes to old fishing and hunting gear.

Over many years my hat collection has grown. There is a story behind every hat, and I still remember most of the stories. Some involve fishing and hunting while other relate more to friends who enjoy the same things that wind my clock. The collection numbers about 400, and each has a story to tell.

I have an old Marble compass and match-safe I've carried while hunting since I bought my first hunting license in 1952. In my pocket is a Case jack-knife that is older than I am, and I well remember always having a pocket knife on my person from the 4th grade on.

Every boy in school carried a pocket knife when I was young, and no one was ever cut or stabbed by one, and having one in your pocket wasn't grounds for being expelled from school. My knife helped me stay focused on what I think are important issues about the old days and life itself, and sadly, those days have ended and a knife -- even though used to trim fingernails or sharpen a pencil -- now results in an unfriendly chat with the police and probable expulsion from school.

Buying Dad two Derringers for Christmas when we were 12

I well remember years ago when our father was a member of the Special Police in Clio where we grew up. Brother George and I bought Dad a pair of pearl-handled .22 Derringers for Christmas one year. We were kids, but the local chief of police knew us, and OK’ed the buy. That wouldn't happen now. The kids, and their unwitting father, would likely be arrested: the kids for buying firearms and Dad for letting it happen.

Some little nicknacks line my shelves. Old bottles of Citronella (an insect repellent), leader tins for storing fly-fishing leaders, an old bottle of Hoppe's No. 9 that I open several times each year to savor an aroma as distinctive as a 12-point buck or a wedge of decoying mallards.

I bought a set of maps published by the Michigan DNR many years ago. There are hot-spots marked on those maps that showed the way to old fishing areas, some great grouse and woodcock coverts, and the neat thing is they show old trails and two-tracks that are no longer visible. Search those maps, and it's easy (sometimes) to find an old lane that when followed will help us restore some great memories of yesteryear.

Some people have asked me: "What good is all of that old crap?" They only see the flotsam of one man's life while I see this stuff as being pretty important to me and my fondest memories. Anything that can bring the old days back to life, if only for a few minutes, may be junk to some but it's one man's treasure for an old goat like me.

A walk in the woods for bunnies

Winter snow and cottontails are made for each other

The shotgun was just a prop. The real reason I carried it on a walk around my 20 acres was in case I kicked up a cottontail rabbit. I’ve done a good bit of judicious timber cutting, and many brush piles hold bunnies.

I stoked the twin tubes of my Winchester 12-gauge over-and-under with low-brass No. 6 shot, and whether a bunny bounced out of a brush-pile or not wasn't the point.

The major attraction was an opportunity to be outdoors, firearm in hand, and going for a walk. Six inches of snow fell overnight, and it was just too nice and too pretty of a day to miss an opportunity by staying indoors.

A good day for a walk in the snowy woods, shotgun in hand

I donned a Hunter Orange hat and vest, tied up my boots, grabbed some sunglasses to prevent too much glare, and went for a hike.

The snow was fairly deep and it covered many fallen limbs, and that made me aware of potential hazards. If I didn't watch where I was going, there was the possibility of tripping over an unseen object.

A shuffling step or two would be taken, and then a long pause. The brush-piles stood out in somber and stark relief to the whiteness of the woods, and I encountered two or three fresh bunny tracks. Was it three different cottontails or just one animal making a lot of tracks?

Just walk slow, stop often and it’s like still-hunting deer

I'd follow each one along, stopping often, looking ahead, and crossed the tracks of three deer (one had a big hoof-print), but it was accompanied by a deer with a small foot, and my suspicion was a doe and fawn. One other track was seen, and it was traveling alone. Buck or doe? No clue.

There were several fox squirrels moving about, and one offered a shot but it wasn't taken. I watched the bushytail poke around on the ground only 30 yards away, and it offered an obvious easy shot but there are plenty of days left to hunt squirrels, but there was no interest today.

I noticed a weasel track nosing into one of the brush-piles, but it may have had a burrow to go down, because the white coat of the ermine wasn't visible. Years ago, I trapped a few ermine and always respected the vicious little animal for its hunting ability.

Kicking brush piles can be a good hunting method

My intentions were to stay on level ground, and I didn't want to risk traveling downhill to hunt through this much snow. Such downward hikes require climbing back up, which isn't a bother, except it provides a greater opportunity of slipping or losing my balance.

Only one cottontail was seen and it was boosted from a brush-pile just before the ground fell away into a ravine. I came up with the shotgun but the bunny was 40 yards out, running hard and it quickly ducked into another pile of brush part-way down the hill.

The situation appeared to be one where some caution was required, and on further reflection, my brain questioned the sanity of risking a downhill traverse to the brush. Perhaps I'd get a shot, but another brush-pile lay only 20 yards from where the rabbit took cover.

It appeared to be a rather foolish temptation, and it didn't take long to reject the idea. One rabbit wouldn't feed my wife and I, and later in the season, it would be tempting to take the trail of that cottontail again.

Better to do it later than now. My cap was tipped to the rabbit, and I retraced my steps, kicked around two or three other piles of brush without rousting another cottontail, and my hike ended with simply some great exercise.

The shotgun was nothing more than an excuse for taking a hike. But, with a shotgun in hand, I was hunting and having a good time and on a cold winter day, it was the best excuse I had for spending time outdoors.

Fly fishing the steelhead streams 45 years ago

Tres Amigos (L-R) George Richey, John McKenzie & Dave Richey

Those people who just got started steelhead fishing in the last few years missed out on the finest fishing ever seen back in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Good numbers of steelhead were being planted all around the state, and the Betsie and Platte rivers offered great sport that was certainly was as good as it gets.

There was some natural steelhead reproduction 35 years ago, and the DNR was planting fish as well. The number of anglers who knew how to catch steelhead were few, and the numbers of fish were very high.

My guiding career began in 1967, and brother George joined me in guiding fly fishermen to salmon, steelhead and broad-shouldered brown trout. John McKenzie became the third of Tres Amigos, and we cut a wide swath through runs of spring and fall spawning salmonids.

We fly-fished, and taught our clients how to cast & catch fish

Snagging was rampant  in those days, and we fished with No. 4, 6 and 8 single-hook flies, and it may sound like bragging but it's not: we were good anglers and guides, and there was no need to snag fish. We could fair-hook fish on a regular basis. The sheer numbers of fish meant if we spooked fish in one spot, a short distance away would be willing fish.

The steelhead runs were huge in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and I can remember days on the Little Manistee River when we could hook 30 steelhead in a day. Not all fish were landed, but George and John tied flies while I handled the bookings for three guides.

We were a busy bunch, and were on the river every day. We knew where the salmon, steelhead or browns would be from day to day, and we seldom had much competition. We came and went, and sometimes Tres Amigos were all on the same stream, and at times we would be spread out across three different rivers. We'd compare notes at night, and decide who would fish where the next day.

John, 13 years younger than George and I, was a good-looking guy. I often paired him with husband-and-wife teams or father-and-daughters, and his great talent -- besides catching fish -- was being able to teach people how to fish. He was patient, and clients easily learned from him.

We three were a well-oiled team that worked together

George and I were older, and by nature, seemed to attract the older anglers or the chief person who brought a crew up fishing. We treated everyone the same; we'd fish from sunup to sundown every day if clients wanted it, and clean fish at night and be up early the next day.

Guiding fishermen was a way of life for Tres Amigos, and we were very good at what we did. We could spot fish, coax anglers into putting the fly in exactly the right spot so it would be scratching gravel when it passed the fish. Often the fish would take, and we'd have a big fight on our hands.

One thing captivated we three guides: putting people into big fish for the first time. The smiles that crossed their faces when they fought a 15-pound steelhead for the first time; got hooked into a 30-pound chinook salmon; or was trying to land a big hook-jawed male brown trout weighing 12 to 18 pounds. It's been many years since those faces broke out into a smile, but I vividly remember most of them.

There wasn't anything we wouldn't do for each other. John was known to tie flies by hand on the river bank when we ran out. George was always there to coax anxious anglers into following a big fish downstream, and I was the guy that made it all work with the precision of a Swiss watch. All of us had a job to do, and we greeted each peach-colored dawn with a smile on our face and a jump in our step.

Each day was a new adventure for us and our guided clients

For 10 years we were Tres Amigos -- three friends -- who made a living in the best possible way -- being outdoors, on the river, and with a client holding tight to a big fish jumping in the river.

We often went without eating, found ourselves upside down in the river current trying to net a client's fish for them, and we looked out for each other. We also paid attention to our clients, catered to their every wish that was ethical and legal, and we coaxed more out of our client's skill levels that they knew they had.

We put people into fall-spawning rainbows that had tiny tails, fat waists, and 23-inch fish that weighed 13 pounds. The browns, especially the big males, were a golden-bronze with big spots; the steelhead were mint-silver and high jumping; the chinook salmon were tackle busters of the first degree, and some mighty battles would cover a half-mile of river. The coho salmon were seldom finicky about a fly: put it to them at their level, and they would hit.

It was a magical 10 years, and now brother George is gone. John McKenzie and I occasionally talk on the phone, and I miss him. We took a trip down memory lane about years ago. We were there for the finest salmon and trout fishing this state has ever seen, and pride ourselves on being the first fly fishing guides on the river.

And that, my friends, is something we'll never forget.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Common sense and intuition work if you pay attention

Really solid ice is needed to support angler and shanty

When it comes to the old cliche like "treading water," it means much the same as "spinning your wheels." And frankly, that's about where I'm at while waiting for lake ice to form a solid mantle on area lakes.

It's been a long and frustrating wait. But now, a few reports are coming in. One came from a good friend of mine who travels widely across the state, and he is telling me that many smaller lakes in northern counties now have two to five inches of ice.

Is the ice safe? He tells me that it is marginal, even on lakes with five inches. Strong winds have broken up some ice a couple of days ago, and it has frozen again. Broken ice that re-freezes isn't nearly as safe as a solid layer.

Don't fish alone on ice, and pay attention to instincts

And then there are the springs to watch out for. Springs can weaken ice directly above where the water bubbles out of the lake bottom, and it can cause wide variations in ice thicknesses in the area.

Inlets and outlets of lakes can cause serious ice problems as well. The moving water tends to eat away at the bottom of the ice, weakening it occasionally faster than cold weather can freeze it.

There are other problems. Wooden docks, old wood pilings and posts, and other woody debris sticking through the ice surface can seriously weaken the nearby ice.

A serious problem with late-forming ice is that if the ice has been broken apart, and then freezes again, it freezes at an uneven rate. One spot can have the strength of regular ice, and 10 yards away is a spot that has very brittle and poor ice.

Weak spots may appear safe, especially if they have a certain amount of snow on top. Too much snow insulates the ice, and it doesn't freeze evenly or properly. A skiff of snow can hide weakened ice, and a misstep by an angler can send him crashing through.

Ice doesn't freeze evenly and can be treacherous.

I'm seriously wanting to go ice fishing. However, I am antsy about going out on early ice. I want safe ice under my feet, and I've been known to pass up ice fishing all winter if the ice is unstable. Years ago, I would accept such risks.

Now days, there may be a tinge of yellow running up my back. If any part of me gets that certain feeling, a hunch, an intuition, a queasy feeling in my guts, that things may not be right, I stay off the ice. I met a friend who told me the ice was safe, and I had a strong gut feeling about the ice conditions. My instincts told me to stay on shore.

I told him that perhaps I would join him later. He got 10 feet from shore, and went through into chest-deep water. No danger of drowning, but he was spitting and sputtering from the cold water as he broke ice back to shore.

He wanted to know why I didn't follow him

He was soaked through, and was heading for his car. He paused while unlocking his car door and asked a pointed question.

"Why didn't you walk out onto the ice with me?" he asked. "Why did you stand up on shore?"

I told him that my instincts, gut feelings, whatever one wants to call them, have taken care of me over the years, and I've learned to rely on them. They told me to stay on shore, which I did, and I told him that is why you are cold and wet and I am not.

Gut instincts. Many people have never cultivated or listened to their inner feelings. It's why some people become victims. Me, I don't care to become a winter statistic as a result of stupidity. It also answers the question of why I don't ride snowmobiles.

Teasing Winter Bluegills

A good assortment of tiny ice jigs or flies in colors is needed.

 

Bluegills have an endearing habit. Once hooked, they swim at right angles to the pull of the line and it makes them feel much larger than they actually are.

The other day before all the rain was a case in point. A small lake not far from Traverse City had six inches of ice. I eased onto the lake, checking the ice as I went, and reached an area pock-mocked with frozen holes left behind by other anglers.

A few things have been learned about catching winter bluegills, and one is to auger a bunch of holes and then let the noise settle down. Start fishing in the first hole drilled, and the reason is it's had the most time to settle down from the commotion of drilling other holes.

It’s my preference to use short, limber spinning rods.

 

I prefer a short soft-action spinning rod with a wee spinning reel and one- or two-pound test clear or green mono. I like tiny ice jigs in a variety of colors. I also like a thin wire rod bobber rather than a float (bobber) because of the sensitivity of some bluegill bites.

I also use thick coiled rod holders that sit on the ice. There's a big reason why this technique works so well.

A tiny ice jig of silver, silver-blue, silver-green, silver-orange, orange, yellow, red and white and almost any other color combination will work, but if one color isn't producing fish, tie on a different color. Experiment with fishing depths, lure colors and jigging action.

My rod is inserted into the coiled rod holder, the jig is baited with a mousie or wax worm, and slowly lowered to bottom. The rod holder is set on the ice and jigged an inch or two and allowed to dangle in the water column for several seconds before being jigged again.

Ice rod holders keep the rod, reel and line up off the ice.

 

I drill my ice holes three feet apart, and use two rod holders with a line down each hole. Watch the tiny wire bobber on the ice rod, and if it moves a fraction of an inch, set the hook.

Some anglers go to one-pound mono because bluegills can be so finicky during winter months. Too much jigging can spook fish, and learning to spot that delicate bite when a ‘gill sucks on the bait’ requires some experience.

Often the hooking and landing of one fish will lead to a strike on the other line. As one fish is reeled to the surface, keep an eye on the other line. if the spring bobber moves, up or down, set the hook.

One thing some anglers don't know is that a bluegill will push the bait upward slightly, and the trick then is to lift the rod and rod holder up until the fish is felt, and then give it a soft hook set.

Bluegills will hit in one spot and then move on in search of food. Try a different hole, and if it doesn't produce a bite or a fish within 10 minutes, try another spot. Sitting in one spot and fishing just one or two holes doesn't produce as good. The thing I like about these ice-rod holders is an angler can walk away from them for a minute to try a nearby hole, and if a fish hits while you are prospecting, the fish will often still be hooked when you return.

Successful bluegill anglers move around and fish different holes

 

Of course, sitting on a bucket with a rod in hand will work. Anglers can still use the wire rod bobber or use a tiny bobber that floats on the water.
Remember to keep jigging strokes very short (an inch or two is plenty), and don't jig too often. Too much jigging action can spook fish.

The whole jigging thing is nothing but a tease. Bait the tiny ice jig or ice fly, and move the baited lure up and down slightly, and it doesn't hurt to try to move it sideways on occasion. Shivering the lure in place can be deadly at times, especially when fish are really picky.

Bluegill fishing is a great way to spend a winter day. Fish near the edges of green weed beds, and try to avoid exaggerated movements. Keep everything low key, use light line, and prospect a bit for fish, and catching a mess of bluegills can be fun and provide some mighty fine eating.

Don’t forget: Get solid information on ice thickness, and even though some angler fish on one inch of ice, it’s never recommended. Be safe!

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Winter archery makes us better shots

Indoor archery shooting gives hunters practice all year

Many people from all over the state have told me they shoot in an archery league to stay sharp during the winter. Others have developed other rather ingenious ways to conduct winter practice.

The primary function is to shoot enough to pick up the bow, draw, aim and shoot without feeling any discomfort. Stay away from shooting of any kind for a month or more, and the bow often feels a bit heavy or uncomfortable in your hands. The trick is to stay comfortable with a bow all winter.

My basement has a 25-yard archery range in it. I can shoot every day if the mood moves me, which it often does.

This allows me to shoot all winter 

Shooting a few arrows makes the bow feel five pounds heavier than it really is, and the back and shoulder muscles get sore easily. Shooting is the best cure for any of these problems, and it makes accurate shooting much easier.

If a person just has no place to shoot, they can still draw their bow and develop some strength training. Here are several examples of things one can do during winter months to stay comfortable drawing a bow.

A buddy does his shooting out in his cavernous garage. A target is set up at one end of the garage, and he can shoot at distances from 15 to 25 yards. Of course, on a bitter cold day, five or six shots is about all he can handle. He needs a small wood stove inside to make shooting warmer and more fun.

Another friend has a 17-yard archery range in his basement. He is talking about cutting a hole in the wall which would allow him to shoot at 25 yards, and it would more closely simulate shooting from an enclosed hunting blind.

Practice at shooting while sitting or standing 

He practices standing up and sitting down while shooting, and this is good. As a rule, he normally shoots while sitting. He can don some fairly heavy clothing similar to what he would wear for December hunts or he can wear lighter clothing to simulate shooting in October.

Still another gent I know does shoot some, but he walks around his house, comes to full draw, centers the sights on the nearest light bulb, telephone or drawer pull, and he finds it is excellent practice. Of course, he doesn't release the string, as in a shot.

Most people when they draw on a deer have to fiddle around a bit to get their sight pin on target. All of that uses up time, and if the buck is walking away, it makes people hurry. When they hurry, they usually make a mistake and take a bad shot or miss entirely.

Not this guy. He practices all winter drawing an empty bow and concentrating on putting the sight where he wants the arrow to go. He works hard at it, and when he is shooting he will do the same thing with an arrow on the string. The bow comes up and back, and the arrow is on its way. This only comes from perfect practice.

Look at your situation and determine what you can do 

Such practice makes target acquisition quick and easy. He always nails his anchor point, and if he is on his anchor point and the sight is on the target, a twitch of the finger on a release sends the arrow downrange to where he wants it to go.

Practice can take many forms, but it's important to become somewhat committed to handling your bow during the winter months. I shoot as often as possible, as I follow my no-nonsense method of drawing, achieving my anchor point, aiming and shooting.

It gives me the daily practice that I need, and the result is that when it comes time to shoot a deer during bow season, I am ready. My muscles are tuned up, my eyes are sharp, and when I hit my anchor point, a slight adjustment tweaks my aim and the arrow is gone.

Many hunters wait until two or three weeks before the season opens, to start practicing. It's better than nothing, but the people who are the finest shots practice shooting on a regular basis.

Their muscles are all peaked out at a comfortable draw weight, and their eyes automatically center on the aiming point, and all it takes is to touch the trigger, and the arrow goes where it should. It's simple.

That's why good hunters practice all winter.

Putting together a fishing- or hunting-book collection

Need a book on steelhead fishing, I’ve got several to choose from

 

It has become very obvious in the last 25 years that people who fish or hunt often are well-schooled, have graduated from college and are accustomed to learning new things in their leisure time.

Many anglers and hunters strive to stay well informed. They want to read things they can learn from, and over many years, I've worked with many people to help them build an excellent outdoor-related fishing and hunting library.

It's no brag, just fact: I have collected fishing and hunting books for more than 50 years, and am in the midst of compiling a major bibliography of fishing and hunting books published in the English language. This research book is only half finished, and the bibliography features some 1,300 typewritten pages that list between 25,000 and 30,000 titles.

I work on the bibliography as data and information arrive

 

It covers books on all types of fresh and salt water fishing, muskie fishing, waterfowl hunting, turkey hunting, decoy collecting, Atlantic salmon fishing, trout fishing, fly casting, and much more.

I know what books are out there, I know what is needed for a research library for an angler or hunter, and I'm accustomed to doing research. A teacher friend wanted an obscure book to show to his class, but didn't have the book and couldn't find it. He knew the author's name and book title, and asked for help. I found his book within 15 minutes.

It's not always that easy, but I've spent years searching for some rather obscure book titles, and this is a service some people need. They need help determining which books to buy, learn how much the books will cost, and then hire someone to do the search work.

Others  need to have their present collection checked out, and determine its value for an estate sale, for insurance purposes, or to determine what the value is for a gift donation. I perform such appraisal work on a fee basis determined by what a sporting book collector needs to have done.

And work is the right word for doing appraisals. It is a long and time consuming task.

Of the two, I most enjoy working with people who are just beginning to establish a collection of books on their favorite fishing or hunting topic. I've worked with some to build their collection of muskie fishing titles, and helped others who collect deer hunting or turkey hunting books, and some who specialize in Atlantic salmon, tarpon or trout fishing. One thing I don't do is stray out of my field of fishing and hunting titles.

Finding books for clients can be easy, very difficult, nearly impossible, or a thrilling challenge. The challenge topics are the most fun because it is like hunting for a diamond in a coal pile. It's dirty work but look how much fun it can be when you find one.

Books, like bananas, often come in bunches

 

I just found 12 muskie books for a client. When we spoke, and I told him of my find, he sounded just like a child at Christmas. He was pumped.

Before we start I try to sit down, or next best, via email or a phone call, and discuss what the client wants to accomplish in a particular genre. I've helped a few collectors locate some very scarce and rare African hunting books, but each collector is different in his or her wants.

I’m big on collecting turkey hunting books. I own most of them but are now looking for some of the really scarce titles for myself and some clients.
But find a key book, and their joy is similar to taking a first-time trout fisherman out and putting him or her into a 10-pound steelhead. It's fun for me and them.

There is, as is true with all types of work, some expenses involved. Doctors and attorneys have been good clients, and their busy fast-paced work life doesn't leave much time for looking for books. They give me a list of titles, or ask me to prepare a list, and I go to work.

I'm helping a muskie-book collector finish up his collection right now. Many of the books are reasonably common; some are hard to find; a few are most difficult to locate, and two or three are nearly impossible to locate.

There is a general theme to my advice for budding book collectors. Try for the hardest books first. They are very difficult to find now so get them while they are still available on occasion, and fill in the collection of lesser valued books as time and money permit.

Collectors or investors require a solid, workable plan

 

Many people I've dealt with provide me with a value guide that tells me how much they can spend over the period of a year, and I begin looking for key books within that price range. In every genre, there are cornerstone books that are very important acquisitions. I always suggest a new collector decide which books they want first (with some advice from me), and we work toward that goal.

I've learned that although there are many who are interested in deer hunting, there is a plethora of titles to choose from. I determine which authors and titles are most collectible.

Books -- good books -- appreciate at 10-12 percent yearly, and sometimes as much as 15 percent for a few books. I would never suggest collecting fishing or hunting books as a means of making money, but only a fool would ignore the fact that good books increase in value while poor books do not.

My thought is to help a new collector pursue this hobby with an eye toward acquiring very difficult books whenever possible. I urge them to enjoy the books while they are alive, and when they pass on, the books will probably be sold in an estate auction. I can lend assistance in planning ahead for this unfortunate day when the beloved books will eventually pass into someone else's hands for a tidy sum of money.

Planning ahead is what makes precision collecting not only a hobby, and provide good reading while allowing the sportsman to acquire more angling and hunting skills, but in the end, provide loved ones with a significant investment.

I buy fishing and hunting books, sell them, and will help collectors get started or improve their collection.

If you are interested, drop me a note at dave@daverichey.com. I'll be happy to help whenever possible.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

No safe ice yet

Seeing a fish in an ice hole is tempting, but wait for safe ice.

Ice gives ice fishermen two different options to consider. One is to ask questions of bait-shops and local anglers before venturing out onto any ice or they don’t ask. That’s the way it works most years, but certainly not this one.

Let’s face one very important fact. Anyone who has spent much time on the ice over many years has probably seen someone fall through. I’ve gone through three different times. That I sit here on the computer every night writing personal blogs means I survived each incident, but I haven’t forgotten them. It also is a gut-wrenching event, one that smart folks never forget.

Those who have gone through, and lived through the experience, often gaze toward the sky, and murmur a very special thanks.

Preparation for any eventuality on ice is just common sense.

It also means that a person should always be prepared for such an accident. Most people fret about falling out of a tree, so they buy a safety harness of high quality, learn how to use it, and if by chance they do fall, they survive. Ice anglers should always take precautions.

People believe such things only happens to other people. Anyone with some intelligence can see how such ice accidents can and do happen. For many it means a bitterly cold bath but they survive.

Michigan's weather is amazing. Last week's temperatures didn’t make any ice, and the this week anglers are being warned to stay off any half-frozen lakes and streams, if they can find any ice.

Read this and repeat it as if it were a mantra: There is no really safe in the Traverse City area now. Some small bog ponds may be froze but only a fool would venture out on them.

It's well known that ice doesn't freeze uniformly. Lakes that set down in a valley often freeze up first because cold weather settles, but those same lakes often are the first to get covered with water and slush during warmer weather, and then the ice becomes unsafe.

Large lakes are slow to freeze, especially those with deep water. Good examples of such waters are Crystal Lake near Beulah and Higgins Lake near Roscommon. Some of these lake may not go over (have safe ice) until next month, and then waters like Grand Traverse Bay at Traverse City may not freeze at all. If it does freeze early, it's often goes out in mid-February, and the thaw usually comes early. Be extremely cautious at all times. So far, as of yesterday, there is no ice.

As it stands right now, very few lakes in the northern counties have safe ice. Now, very few lakes have any ice following the warm spell and high winds.

What's a person to do? First thing is to check with local bait shops to determine ice safety. The other thing people can do is stay off the ice until they are certain it is safe.

Thin ice kills people every year. Avoid that temptation.

Me, I like at least four inches of hard blue ice under my Ice Man boots. Six inches is even better, and I'm most comfortable with 10 to 12 inches. Some anglers go out on Saginaw Bay, but as prone as that ice mass is to breaking away from shore on a stout west wind, it pays be very cautious.

A few smaller lakes near Traverse City are good for bluegills and sunfish, and Spider Lake can be great. Nearby Platte Lake has very poor ice conditions, and any ice is very unsafe. The same holds true for Long Lake, another popular spot.

I dearly love to fish through the ice. I also like to continue breathing, and you won’t find me out on a lake with a skim of ice. I know many people who put their lives at great risk, as well as others who might try to save them, but it’s senseless to do so this year.

Burt and Mullet lakes in Cheboygan County should be producing walleyes and some perch, but again, conditions are bad. In-flowing and out-flowing streams make safe ice problematic. Warming weather hastens a sudden ice melt, and ice can turn treacherous.

Be patient for safe ice, and if it doesn’t happen, wait for next winter.

Anglers would be smart to hold off for another week or two, and realize right now that there may not be much, if any, safe ice fishing this year. It all depends on whether we get freezing temperatures at night, and allow everything to stiffen up again. A second freezing (after a melt) often doesn't produce great ice so keep that in mind.

Risking one's life on inland lakes and rivers is not worth the effort. The best catch of game fish in the world isn't worth taking chances with your life. The safest and wisest thing to do is to watch and wait for good ice to form.

Local bait dealers know when the ice is safe and where the fish are biting. Keep track of conditions with a phone call or two, and don't take chances. Going through the ice is a harrowing experience, if you survive, and a tragedy if you don’t.

The worst case scenario -- death by drowning or exposure -- is the other possibility. Neither option appeals to me or other sane people.

What are the state's largest lakes?

Many of these lakes offer good ice-fishing for walleyes and perch.

The outdoors is much more than just fishing and hunting. There is a vast store of knowledge about various aspects that I know too little about, and I take pride in my knowledge.

For instance: one glaring error in my outdoor education is my knowledge of bushes and trees. Sure, I know what beech, birch, maple and oak trees and their leaves look like, but throw an oddball tree my way and ask me to identify it, I'm as lost as last year's Easter egg.

I started thinking today about a question one of my kids asked 30 years ago. David asked: "Dad, have you fished every lake and stream in the state?"

This blog had its beginnings years ago with a question by my son.

The answer then and still is "no." I've fished a good number of them over my 60 years of prowling this state, but there are many I haven't fished and may never try. Time is against me or most people who would try to accomplish such a daunting feat.

That thought brought me to today's topic. Someone emailed me this morning, and asked if I knew the largest inland lakes in the state. By sheer good fortune, I knew the five top lakes in terms of size, and could even name them in order; Houghton, Torch, Charlevoix, Burt and Mullett lakes. Beyond those five, I was lost and began doing some research.

An obscure DNR booklet named Michigan's 20 Largest Inland Lakes was found in a file cabinet, and the topic proved fascinating. Fifteen of the largest lakes are in the Lower Peninsula and five are in the Upper Peninsula.

What follows is that list, ranging from No. 1 to No. 20, the county or counties where they are found, the size in acres, and the miles of shoreline (which includes islands) around it.

1. Houghton Lake is in Roscommon County. It has 20,044 acres and has 30.0 miles of shoreline.
2. Torch Lake is located in Antrim and Kalkaska counties, and has 18,770 acres. There are 40.8 miles of shoreline.
3. Lake Charlevoix is in Charlevoix County. It has 17,260 acres, and the shoreline covers 56.0 miles.
4. Burt Lake is in Cheboygan County. It covers 18, 120 acres, and the shoreline measures 30.1 miles.
5. Mullett Lake also is in Cheboygan County. It has 16,630 acres, and the shoreline measures 31.6 miles.
6. Gogebic Lake, the Upper Peninsula's largest inland lake, is found in Gogebic and Ontonagon counties. It covers 13,380 acres, and has 34.4 miles of shoreline. This lake is great for walleyes except during the Hex hatch in June or July.
7. Big Manistique Lake, rests in Luce and Mackinac counties, and it is tied for 7th place with 10, 130 acres. It has 26.5 miles of Upper Peninsula shoreline.
8. Black Lake in Cheboygan and Presque Isle counties, also has 10, 130 acres. It has 18.7 miles of shoreline.
9. Crystal Lake in Benzie County is one of the state's most beautiful lakes. It has 9,711 acres and 20.8 miles of shoreline.
10. Portage Lake in Houghton County was one of the last strongholds for sauger in this state. Fisheries biologists feel the sauger have disappeared. The lake has 9, 640 acres with 55.9 miles of shoreline.
11. Higgins Lake in Crawford and Roscommon counties has 9,000 acres. It has 21 miles of shoreline.
12. Fletcher Floodwaters is located in Alpena and Montmorency counties. It has 8,970 acres with 24.7 shoreline miles.
13. Hubbard Lake is located in Alcona County. It has 8,850 acres and 19.3 miles of frontage on the lake.
14. North and South Lakes Leelanau in Leelanau County covers 8,320 acres. It has 40.2 miles of shoreline.
15. Indian Lake is found in Schoolcraft County. It has an even 8,000 acres with 16.7 miles of shoreline.
16. Elk Lake in Antrim and Grand Traverse counties has 7,730 surface acres. It measures 25.8 miles around the lake.
17. Michigamme Reservoir is located in Iron County. It features 7,200 acres but has 78.0 miles of shoreline.
18. Glen Lake in Leelanau County includes the east and west basins, and covers 6,285 surface acres. It only has 17.0 miles of shoreline.
19. Grand Lake in Presque Isle County. It covers 6,660 acres with 35.5 miles of shoreline.
20. Long Lake in Alpena and Presque Isle counties has 5,652 acres. It has 25.3 miles of shoreline.

All 20 lakes provide good fishing. Try fishing each one.

Keep this list handy, and it can settle any type of bar bet or resolve discussions with other anglers about lakes and sizes.