The season’s last bird

Last ditch effort to salvage a turkey season. Not the best way to do this, but it can work. Maybe…

Two gobblers crossed the road ahead of the car as my neighbor and I headed for town and a dental appointment. Both birds had long beards, and were traveling together.

I’ve thought of them the last few hours. They were heading for a distant woodlot, and it’s likely they will roost in those woods tonight. Would it be possible to call one in on the last day of the spring turkey season?

It would be a last-ditch effort. My computer has been messed up for three days, and we think the system got zapped by lightning. Who knows what caused the problem, but until today, turkey hunting has been the farthest thing from my mind.

I’m thinking of making an early-morning foray to the woodlot tomorrow. I can get close by sticking near a combination fence line-hedge row, and maybe I can pinpoint their roosting location. If so, there is a chance this late in the season that one or the other will come to the call.

It will be a quick in-and-out hunt. Approach closely, work into position under cover of darkness. sit still and whisper a love-sick hen call at dawn. I’ll give them a chance to gobble if they choose to, but if they don’t make a sound, I’ll see if I can stir a gobble or two out of them. If that doesn’t work, I’ll be ready for one to come sneaking in to the call.

It’s highly likely they won’t be there. I should be out right now trying to roost the birds, but computer problems have messed up my schedule. I’ve just seen too many situations where the birds can travel a mile or two in the last hour or two before dark.

These Toms have been around here all season, and some hens have already had their little feather-ball babies, so perhaps a gobbler or two will come to visit a sexy-sounding hen. And again, maybe they won’t move my way at all.

It will be me, light-weight camo clothing, camo hat, face mask, brown gloves and my Remington Model 870 3-inch magnum 12 gauge shotgun stoked with No. 5 copper-plated shot.

If things go as planned, and the gobblers walk out to me and my neighbor (haven’t figured out yet whether to take a hen decoy or not), he aims to be ready. This is my last-chance day to call in a bird for him, and I want it to be as good as it can be.

There is no room for errors, and if this hunt works, it will be a first for me. I’ve never shot a gobbler on the last day of the season, but then again, I’ve never had to worry about this problem.

Hunting this late in the season has never been necessary. If my buddy is to shoot a bird, I almost always have done it on the first or second day of my hunting season. This year, my golden opportunity was wrecked by two people walking down the road.

I’m not mad at them because they have as much right to be there as I had being where I was at, but I had a gobbler in front of me and another behind me, and both were heading for the hen. It can be the best spot to be in, and it was obvious I hadn’t factored in the walkers.

So that took care of my best opportunity. Whatever happens tomorrow morning will be the result of a last-ditch effort.

The gobblers may respond or they may be a mile or two away. I don’t know, and I don’t care, but I know one thing:

Unless lightning is flashing, and a storm is passing overhead, come dawn tomorrow, I’ll be back-up to a big tree, and whining, cutting, purring and yelping for all I’m worth … if that’s what it takes to call in a gobbler.

Because the season ends very soon, and there will be no more chances until next year, so I’ll do the best job possible. It will either be good enough to lure a gobbler within 40 yards or it won’t. Hopefully, my neighbor’s  hunting season will end with a bang.

If not, I’ve had a good season trying to work birds afflicted with a bad case of the shut-mouth. I like to pretend it’s all about skill, but come morning, my buddy will be hoping for a bit of luck.

Me and Max fish the AuSable River

Besides trout, Max Donovan loved to hunt ducks and geese

Max Donovan, consumate outdoorsman and mentor, admires one element of the beauty of waterfowling. photo Dave Richey ©2012

Some 55 years ago, my long-time mentor — Max Donovan of Clio — took pity on the scrawny blond-haired kid with glasses, and took me north to fish the mainstream AuSable River for trout.

“We’re going to be fishing near a place called Wa-Wa-Sum,” Max said. “It don’t make no difference what fly is hatching today. We’ll be using the Adams, a No. 12 or 14, I suspect.”

Now, a bit of background history. Max was a hemophiliac, a bleeder. He would bleed for a week or more if he nicked his chin while shaving. He also was, at the time, the oldest living hemophiliac who had part of a leg amputated. His “wooden leg,” as he called it, worked quite handily and he could wade well at the time.

He also had forgot more about fishing than many know

The drive proved a lesson in history about the inventor of the Adams fly, which we would soon be using. Max had it down pat.

“This here is my favorite fly and I can catch any kind of trout on it that rises to the surface to feed,” and after having shared many fishing trips with Donovan, I knew he could do it. “This fly looks like many other flies, and drift it drag-free over a feeding fish, they will take it like they were starving.

“OK, Len Halladay of Mayfield (just north of Kingsley), invented the Adams fly in 1922 to fish on Mayfield Pond and streams such as the Boardman River. He named the fly after his friend, Judge Charles Adams of Ohio.”

The fishing was perfect on a great day

Some feel the Adams closely imitates some mayflies and stoneflies. The fly, born at the Mayfield Hotel and first used on Mayfield Pond, has been imitated but Halladay’s original creation, is a wonderful catcher of trout.

“Now, listen up, don’t you worry about me,” Donovan said after his Len Halladay-Adams one-sided discussion. “I’m heading downstream. I know this stretch of water well, and know where the deeper spots are. I know where the trout hold and where they don’t.

“Got any Adams flies,” he asked, knowing full well I didn’t. “Here are a half-dozen. Lose them all in the trees and it will be a long day. Watch your back cast, don’t pitch the flies into the trees, and find a feeding fish. There will be a quiz later about what you’ve learned while fishing alone.”

His lecture on the Adams fly was forgotten as I headed upstream

Off he went, with a little hitch in his git-along, and he would drill casts under over-hanging branches to fish water most anglers could never reach. I watched him fish around the bend and out of sight, and then headed upstream along the bank.

I was looking for rising fish, and soon found some. I’d work into position, cast so the No. 14 Adams landed a few feet above the rising trout. I mended the line like Max had taught me, and soon hooked a 12-inch brown. Into my creel it went, this being well before the catch and release restrictions.

Mind you, this was in the days of yore, long before this stretch near Wa-Wa-Sum became catch-and-release. For me, at the time, fishing was a philosophy of catch-and-keep.

The fish were fairly easy, and I caught several and put a few down with a sloppy cast. One was a beautiful 14-inch brown, and being young and needing praise from the master, the fish was kept.

Time dragged on as the sun started lowering into the west, and I fished back downstream to the end of Thendara Road where we had parked.

There was just enough rising trout to keep me interested

A good fish rose just upstream from the road-end at Wa-Wa-Sum, and I worked him patiently. I erred on the side of caution on my approach, and eventually worked myself close enough to the fish to drift a fly. I switched to a No. 12, a larger fly, and knew I’d have but one or two casts.

The brown moved to the fly, tipped up and sipped it off the surface. The fish jumped once, settled into a midstream scrap, and he was finally landed.

Some clapping was heard, and Max stood by the car watching, and offered a “Good job. Let’s take a look at him.”

Max had a way of making me look better than him

He said he never caught a fish but I didn’t believe him, but I showed off five fish including two really nice ones. He studied them and me, asked it I’d had a good day, and he was told that it had been a wonderful day.

Then came the quiz. “When did Len Halladay invent the Adams? I had forgotten about the date and the quiz.

“That’s great,” he said. “In view of your exceptionally good luck and my poor luck, and because you failed the test, I’m going to let you clean all those fish. We will eat them tonight as we think of our trout fishing day, Len Halladay, the Adams fly, and how you really made me look bad.

“For that, you also get to wash and dry all the dishes. My bum leg is getting a bit tender, so I have get off it, and because I’m all gimped up and can’t get away, I suppose you’ll torture me to death about your fish-catching prowess.”

Somehow, I knew I’d get stuck with the cooking and dishes. But that was the price of admission to learn about trout fishing and fly-tying history from the master.

Bless him. He’s been gone for nearly 30 years but it’s amazing how many memories I have of me and Max fishing and hunting. All are treasured, and will be trotted out occasionally. Stay tune for another at some future date.

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.

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.

A Season of Book Reviews

My apologies to one and all. This book review feature was scheduled for two weeks ago, which would have provided readers with more time to order books as a Christmas gift. Sadly, computers being what they are, they often choose to take a vacation when we least expect. So my computer crashed and we just got it fixed.

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TITLE: The American Rowboat Motor

AUTHOR: Arlan Carter
PUBLISHER: Fall Creek Publishing Company
DISTRIBUTOR: Fall Creek Publishing Company

CONTACT: Fall Creek Publishing Company, PO Box 107, Fall Creek. WI 54742
PHONE: (800) 695-6017
COST $39.90
COMMENT Hardcover. 400 pages, 8 ½ X 11-inch format, patent drawings, period advertising, 80 pages on the Evinrude Company, and more than 40 manufacturers represented book description

This book by renowned author Arlan Carter covers the gamut of early outdoor motors from the beginning of gas-powered motors. Many photos and advertisements are in color, The first outboard motor isn’t one that is easily recognized today.

The  information says, the first outboard motor manufactured in the United States was patented in Nov. 22, 1902, originally from Chicago. It had a motor that was independent of the rudder. The complete outfit  weighed 35 pounds and ran off a battery. It was known as an engine that could be started by pushing a button.

The first internal combustion gasoline outboard was made by American Motor Company. This engine was produced from 1862 through April 2, 1924, and it’s believed that the company is thought to have produced 25 engines, and was capable of making speeds “six or eight miles per hour”.

The book thoroughly covers such early outboard engines as

• Arrow
• Caille
• Evinrude
• Motorow
• No-Ro-Imperial
• Cammpbell
• Cyclone
• Elto
• Gilmore
• A. L. Kriderm Lockwood-Ash
• Racine Burroughs
• St. Lawrence
• Viking
• Wright and many others

This is the most in-depth look at the early days of the outboard motor. This is a fascinating history of the outboard engine, and would serve any outboard motor collector well. It offers a wonderful look at the background of our marine engines.

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TITLE: Billy Barnstorm: The Birch Lake Bomber & Other Tales of Youthful Disaster

AUTHOR: Joel M. Vance
PUBLISHER: Cedar Glade Press
DISTRIBUTOR: Cedar Glade Press

CONTACT:  Cedar Glade Press, PO Bix 1664, Jefferson City, MO 65102. $18.99 postpaid.
WEBSITE: http://www.joelvance.com
COST $18.99 postpaid

The author is one of my favorite people. He can be funny without trying, and in this paperback book, his outlandish and sometimes weird sense of comedy comes jumping to the surface like one of the largemouth he caught as a lad.. This book speaks to Vance’s youth and the various mischief he and his collaborators got into while spending time near Birch Lake, Wisconsin, more than a half-century ago.

I dislike making comparisons because it’s usually not fair to one or both of those being compared, but reading Joel Vance’s newest book reminds me of reading early humor books written by Patrick McManus. ‘Course, being as I know both authors, I feel a fine and honest comparison can be made.

Vance’s humor could make a wooden cigar store Indian laugh. In this unique collection of humor about he and his youthful friends, you’ll meet some of his zany friends. There are 14 chapters, excellent b/w drawings by Bruce Cochran. This is guaranteed to please anyone jaded by holiday shopping, and makes a perfect Christmas gift.

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TITLE: The Windward Shore: A Winter On The Great Lakes

AUTHOR: Jerry Dennis
PUBLISHER: University of Michigan Press,
DISTRIBUTOR: University of Michigan Press

CONTACT: University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, MI
WEBSITE: http://www.press.umich.edu
COST $22.95 plus postage from the publisher
COMMENT: This hardcover book with dust jacket, also features the delightful work of artist Glenn Wolff, also of Traverse City, Michigan, whose drawings have graced the pages of other of Dennis’ work.

Jerry Dennis  is a natural treasure, and he keeps writing new and more wonderful books. Fitting him into a specific category can be a bit difficult because he is at once, an outdoor writer, a conservationist, a nature lover, a dreamer, who develops words of magic that capture the soul and spirit of those of us lucky enough to live near the Great Lakes.

A knee injury slowed him down, and in so doing, allowed him the time to “present a true picture of a complex region, part of my continuing project to learn one place on earth reasonably well ,” and this is what he’s accomplished with this book.

Winter around Lake Michigan may hardly seem a great topic for a book, but once Dennis sank his teeth into this tasty morsel that he and I both call home, and the result is the magic of this book about the area, the lives of nearby inhabitants, and stories painted by word pictures about this snow and ice-bound area. He teaches us about living in a log cabin along Lake Superior, more about desolate and wind-swept beaches, the power and the magnetic pull a winter storm has on those of us who stay here all winter rather than heading south with other snowbirds.

Dennis gracefully takes us along with him as we plod along frozen shorelines, listen as the surf pounds at shelves of ice, and we hear and feel the moan of an angry wind as it lashes the North County. We see, feel, hear, taste and touch winter along the Great Lakes, and we rejoice with the author as he examines everything about winter in this area.

It’s a book to be read, laid aside, and go back to read certain passages that stick in our mind as we indulge in becoming one with the winter wind, watch snow and ice in a swirl of sensory perceptions. A truly wonderful read by a favorite author.

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TITLE: Deer Hunting 4th edition

AUTHOR: Richard P. Smith
PUBLISHER: Stackpole Books
DISTRIBUTOR: Stackpole Books

CONTACT: Stackpole Books
WEBSITE: http://www.stackpolebooks.com
eMAIL: sales@stackpolebooks.com 
PHONE: (800) 732-3669
COST: $29.95
COMMENT: Paperbound, 448 pages, 297 color photos and 40 years of deer hunting experience from this writer

Richard P. Smith’s name is well known in Michigan and other states and Canadian provinces for his knowledge about bear and deer hunting. His books on deer hunting are many, and all are different. They give readers who own them all, everything the author knows about deer hunting.

Read closely and you’ll see that Smith acknowledges me, but not because I taught him anything mystical about bear and deer hunting. I helped him land his first book (also by Stackpole Books) many years ago and helped with a gentle shove into getting into outdoor writing. He deserves all the praise for this and his 20-odd books.

Smith’s ability to shoot quality photos has kept him very busy for the 30-some years he has been working at this trade. He is more knowledgable about many things that deer do, and many of his secrets are shared in this book.

It is chockfull of tips that can spell the difference between success and failure on a deer hunt, whether here in Michigan or across North America. On the ground, up a tree, stalking, still-hunting, or however you choose to hunt, Smith has most of the answers outlined in great detail in this book.

This is a heavy book, and rightfully so because it is filled to the gunwales with the superb color photos Smith uses to illustrate his books and magazine articles. This book is a keeper, and make no mistake about that. Read and learn. Smith makes it easy.

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TITLE: Brook Trout & The Writing Life

AUTHOR: Craig Nova
PUBLISHER: Eno Publishers
DISTRIBUTOR: Eno Publishers

CONTACT: Eno Publishers, Hillsborough, NC
WEBSITE: http://www.enopublishers.org
COST: $15.95

I’m a sucker for anything written about brook trout. I consider them the most beautiful and precious of all the trout, and I often wax poetic when writing about them. They make it easy because brookies and I share certain commonalities: we love cold water, wild places, and occasionally difficult places to fish. There are places where big brook trout live, but they are seldom common catches once they grow to lunker size.

I’ve caught brook trout throughout the East, Midwest, in some high mountain western lakes, and across much of Canada. They are found in three primary sizes: midgets, legal size and lunker. Regardless of size, the terrain and geography of where they are caught is part of the allure of this beaufitully spotted game fish.

Nova is a wonderful writer, one seemingly destined to write about these fish. The book tells of the intermingling of fishing and writing in a novelist’s life. This book is well written by a writer who knows brook trout, is excited by any opportunity angle for then, and truly knows brook trout and writing..

This memoir speaks to the uncertainty of writing for a living, which most writers experience early in the game, and writing with the singular notion of writing about just one fish species. He transitions well from fishing to writing about other matters in his life, and he makes it work with a bright and lively well-paced book that is filled with the beauty of the written word. An autobiography I found spellbinding.

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TITLE: Young Beginners Guide To Shooting & Archery: Tips For Gun & Bow

AUTHOR: W. H. (Chip) Gross
PUBLISHER: Creative Publishing International
DISTRIBUTOR: Creative Publishing International

CONTACT: Creative Publishing International, Minneapolis, MN
WEBSITE: http://www.creativepub.com
PHONE: (800) 328-3895
COST: $15.99

Most books written for children talk down to the kids, which can build resentment. The author worked for the Ohio Department of Natural Resources, and is responsible for having taught many children how to fish and hunt. Gross has a particular interest in safe hunting because he lost an eye in a hunting accident.

This book covers all the bases when it comes to hunting with a bow or firearm, and it is covered adequately and in sufficient depth to make it meaningful to children. It is liberally sprinkled with color photos.

I spent 20 years as the outdoor writer for The Detroit News, and one of my primary duties each fall was to put on Michigan’s largest Hunter Education program. Gross has done the same for the  Ohio DNR, and it’s impossible to work with a large number of kids without learning how to get along with them and to make their training something they will remember the rest of their lives.

Gross takes us step by step through the process of safely learning how to hunt with bow and firearm, how to achieve better accuracy, and most important of all, how to enjoy a safe hunting trip.