Rain, Wind, and Lunacy

There have been plenty of times in my life when I've questioned my own sanity. Yesterday afternoon was another one of those.

The remnants of superstorm Sandy were still swirling over Pennsylvania making the weather service radar maps look like slow-motion water circling a drain. Being holed up in the studio for the last two days, I'd had enough puttering around and needed to get out. A break between bands of rain offered me a chance to check my trail cams, move a tree stand, and maybe do a little hunting. I was out the door as soon as my lunch dishes hit the sink.

Everything seemed damp and cold outside. It wasn't quite raining, but it hadn't quite stopped either. The deluge of rain and wind from the previous two days had stripped the trees of any remaining leaves and the water soaked bark made their trunks look almost black against the landscape. A fine mist was now falling from the sky and I wondered to myself if this afternoon's outing might be a mistake. It was Halloween and dealing with the onslaught of neighborhood trick-or-treaters back at the studio didn't really appeal to me, so I pushed any negative thoughts to the back of my head... for now. Resolute in my plan, I slipped on my rubber boots and rain gear, shouldered my pack and trudged away from the truck.

Two hours after leaving the relative comfort of my truck, I found myself twenty feet up in a sparse hemlock staring out over a swamp... and getting soaked. As I sat there assessing my situation, the rain was coming steadily and showed no sign of letting up. It wasn't raining hard, but it was still enough that the insides of my "waterproof" Gortex gloves were wet and water was starting to seep from the cuffs of my parka to my elbows. At that moment, I had a decision to make. Either call it a day and head back to the truck or tough it out for the next three-and-a-half hours until dark. It seemed like an easy conclusion, but I decided to stay... smiling to myself as the rain and wind seemed to increase at that very moment.

Ignore the time and date stamp. I changed the batteries and forgot to reset the clock.

I'd love to continue this story with a tale about a big buck eventually ending up in the back of my truck, but that's not what happened. In fact, I never saw a deer (at least not until I got back to the studio and checked the memory cards from my trail cameras). The hunting aspect of this little adventure became secondary to the experience of actually being there to experience something very few have the fortitude (or lack of common sense) to face. At nearly fifty years of age, I'm not as adventurous as I used to be. I do, however, like to challenge myself on occasion... and it rarely goes without reward. Sure, I had a great-horned owl sit on a hemlock bow less than sixty feet away and shake the rain from his soaked feathers. A merlin (only the second one I've ever seen in PA) took a sparrow just above the swamp's overgrowth, landing nearby to dismantle and eat his prize. But this afternoon, I learned something about myself. Sitting completely still for three hours in the driving rain (not to mention the 39° air temperature) gives a person a lot of time for soul searching.

I wondered about my hermit-like existence, as I often do. I'm never quite sure if my need for solitude is from some sort of anti-social tendency, mental illness, or just part of my natural transformation into a crusty old fart. I find myself avoiding people with certain extreme personality traits... especially overly negative folks (I have enough uncertainty of my own without someone else's black cloud rolling over my life) and those that propel themselves in all directions in mach-two-hyper-spaz mode. I've never understood how someone can live their life like a superball in a blender, trying to go every direction at the same time at twice the speed of stupid, seemingly never accomplishing anything, regularly running their life off in a ditch and wondering how they got there.

The pace of my life is much slower than that and I've settled into a comfortable gate that gets me where I need to go while allowing me to enjoy the journey. In that context, sitting there in such inclement weather seemed perfectly natural. So at that very moment, I found myself leaning toward my crusty old fart theory and it made me laugh.

In fact, I found myself laughing to myself a lot as afternoon crept to evening and the rain began to let up a bit. The rain was still dripping steadily from the bill of my cap and my cold wet hands were nearly numb. I had to shake my head at the lunacy of this small adventure... or maybe at how much I was enjoying it.

As darkness descended upon the waterlogged landscape, I climbed down from my stand. Once again, I shouldered my pack and began the nearly half-mile hike back to the truck. Back out on the trail, the mud and standing water made the footing less than ideal, but I slogged happily along. Happy that I'd made it through the evening proving to myself that I could. Happy that my hours of isolation had led my thoughts down such a pleasant path of introspection. Happy to be headed back to the house for some dry underwear!

Time for the Hunt

It's that time of year. October and November are my favorite months to be outdoors. With the last two weeks of bow season right around the corner, deer activity is ramping up and signs of the rut are everywhere. Rubs line deer trails near thickets and swamps. Scrapes are briefly covered by falling leaves, but quickly cleaned out as bucks freshen them. Does are getting antsy as they seem to know bucks will be running them ragged in just days. Scuffles between the boys turn into knock-down-drag-out brawls when the older bullies on the block are involved.

My trail cameras are getting a workout and the anticipation of checking them for new images is sometimes more than I can stand. Still, it doesn't compare to actually being out there. Most of my days from now until the end of the season will be spent sitting 20' up in a small tree stand. I will stay from an hour before sunrise until well after sunset, only making my way back to the truck after I'm confident any deer in the area have moved on. Then it's back to the house for a quick bite to eat and a few hours of sleep before I head out again.

So far, I've been able to pace myself. It's easy for me to get burned out early in the season if I'm not careful. Now my drive has reached a crescendo of hunt all day every day if at all possible. If you call, I likely won't answer. If you visit, no one is at home. It's just that time of year.

Preseason Deer Scouting

I spent a fair amount of yesterday wandering through some of my deer hunting areas. It's always fun to get out there and see what the deer and other critters have been up to. I set a trail camera in a new area where 2 heavily used trails intersect near the corner of a corn field. For the past couple of years, I've spent more time scouting and goofing off in the deer woods than I had since I was in my twenties. Just the anticipation of getting trail cam photos of deer, turkeys, coyotes, foxes, etc. gives me the excuse I seem to need to lace up my hiking boots, sling my pack, and take off.

Big poop = Big buck!

Even during these hot summer months, well before bucks are making rubs and scrapes, they leave tell-tale sign for the observant outdoorsman. Of course tracks are always a good indicator to deer movement and I pay close attention to size, location, and direction. Droppings are another key piece to the puzzle that are often overlooked. When you find huge clumps like the one in this photo, you know there's a very large deer in the area. No 2 1/2 year old six point is going to drop a number two of this size!

October... My Favorite Time of Year

With the month of September now shrinking in the rearview mirror, my favorite month is here! There is so much to do and see in October, I wish it could last 120 days instead of just 31. Fall colors will be at their peak soon offering outstanding opportunities to paint and gather reference photos. Fishing is prime as some trout species are showing brilliant spawning colors and runs of fall steelhead are forging upstream. Fall mushrooms are popping up everywhere with my absolute favorite, the sheephead, topping my list of fungal treasures. And lastly, the bow hunting season opens today in Pennsylvania, which means I’ll be spending a considerable amount of time afield.

I love bow hunting for whitetails. It’s just that simple. The craft of true woodsmanship is quickly becoming a lost art. Keen observation, interpretation of deer sign, and anticipating the daytime movements of a creature that is active mostly at night is not easy. Doing it precisely enough to get within easy bow-range can be downright maddening. Then there is the challenge of keeping a year’s worth of nerves and anticipation under control as the moment of truth arrives… well… as I said before. I love it!

There are other benefits to sitting very still in the October deer woods. As the threat of winter snows come with the cooling night air, animal activity reaches a fevered pitch. Coyotes and foxes pass by on their daily patrols. Turkeys cluck and yelp and they scour the forest floor for abundant fall edibles. On the really cold days, tundra swans can be heard as the first squadrons begin to head south. And not a season goes by without an owl trying to land on my leg!

Yes, my October schedule is jammed full of time in the field. So if you don’t hear from me, it’s not because I’m ignoring you. To paraphrase the late Ned Smith, there’s a sign on the studio door that reads, “Gone for the Day.”