This hunting season has been very slow for me. With my injury that happened just three days before early goose season, getting out and about has been quite the chore. But it is always worth it. I have never had a hunt where I said "I wish I would have just stayed home". But, this past week, I came very close.
A friend of mine made his way up from North Carolina to do some Michigan duck hunting. He moved away from Michigan a few years back, but the waterfowl hunting out by him just isn't the same as it is here in Michigan. So, a couple of months ago he called me up and said he wanted to make a trip up here and told me to keep an eye out on the duck reports so we could have an awesome hunt. I was pumped when the time grew near.
He arrived in Michigan and took a quick power nap, then called me up for an evening hunt. He had always wanted to hunt the Holloway Reservoir, a place where he grew up fishing. I had never been there, but from what he described, it sounded like a duck haven. After a little research, I found a few forums that talked about the hunting out there, and there were a few success stories. Game on.
We got to the primitive launch site and dropped the boat in. It was pretty rocky, so we walked the boat the first 50 or so yards. After that it was smooth sailing. We reached the other side of the reservoir and found our spot, but the water level was very low. Time to test out the Mudd Buddy. We zipped across the remaining water until we got within 30 yards of where we were going to set up, then the mud changed. It went from sloppy mud to thick clay-like mud. So we got out again and pulled the rest of the way. We set up on a little point surrounded by cattails and a nice cross wind. After setting out a small spread, we brushed up the boat and got ready. everything was perfect and in place. But one thing was missing. Ducks. It was two hours before we saw our first birds, and they we a faint vision on the horizon. Every duck from then on followed the same flight path.
I was scanning the horizon when my buddy said to me "Hey. Wasn't that cinder block over there under water when we were setting decoys?". "I hope not" I replied. There was only about 30 minutes of shooting light left, so we watched to see if the water dropped any more. Then, he said he needed to use the little boys room. Now, anyone that has any experience hunting knows that the second you go to relieve yourself, whatever you are hunting will come out at that exact moment, stick out it's tongue and wave, then make it's way back out of sight. I told him that the second he stepped out of the boat, the ducks would come in. But he really had to go. Sure enough, the second his foot hit the water, a pair of woodies came in from behind. He scrambled back into the boat, but we were made and the pair got out of there. And that was the extend of our action. Last light came and our hunting was over.
But the story does not end there. Oh no, not at all. As we looked out of the boat, we noticed that more of the cinder block was indeed showing. The reservoir was being drained while we were in it. And when we stepped out of the boat, our boots hit ground and not water. It took almost 30 minutes to get the boat moved over to water that was float-able. As we made our way to our spread, we noticed that some of our decoys we actuality starting to tip because the keels were touching the bottom. Not good. Now for the trip out. Now, keep in mind that I am freshly out of a cast and am not supposed to be walking without a brace, let alone walking through a marsh dragging a boat. we wound up dragging (not floating) the boat probably around 100 yards or so. We finally reached float-able water and jumped in. We are now home free. Well not quite. We made our way back through the canals looking for our launch. But it was no where to be found. We drove up and down those canals, but just could not find it. Then it hit us. We had to drag the boat when we put it in because it was too shallow. And since the water had dropped, that canal was probably land locked. After some searching, we found another primitive boat launch and parked the boat. My friend then had a nice little walk to try to find the other boat launch and his truck. What a night. Then, to top it off, we were standing on the back of his tilt trailer to get the boat loaded and I stepped on one of the tail lights instead of the frame. The light had no chance against me and instantly broke.
All in all, I was glad to get out and hunt somewhere new. But, I was real close to saying those eight little words....
Showing posts with label michigan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michigan. Show all posts
Friday, November 13, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
My First Regular Season Duck Hunt/MacGyver Boot
For those of you that haven't read my previous blogs, I have been down for the count since a few days before early goose season with a broken leg. I have made it out a few times but, because of other complications, I was only able to get out a few times. And it was on a pond in my buddies back yard. It was fun, but it's just not the same as actually getting out in the field.
Well, I got a call from my friend Mike and he asks if I want to head out with him and another good friend, Randy. From my reaction, anyone around must have thought that I had just gotten a call from the Lotto Commission. I quickly told him I would love to go, and he gave me a time to meet them.
I went up to my hunting closet and started to get all of my gear together. It felt too good to grab my duck jacket, my trusty auto-loader, and my blind bag to go hunting and not just to move them. But then I came across a problem. While we were going to be hunting from shore, any waterfowler will tell you that at some point, you will get wet. I am still wearing an immobilizing boot, and it will not fit in or around it. I had to make something that would not come off and would be waterproof, and not just for a bit. The weather channel was calling for rain for the rest of the day, so what ever I did had to last. But what could pull of such a feat? Duct tape? Even better. Gorilla Tape. MacGyver, eat your heart out. I made a single layer "boot" out of this stuff and it worked like a charm. It rained all day and I even took a spill at the water's edge, yet my foot was dry at the end of the night. So, add Gorilla Tape to that list of thing's to keep in the blind bag.
On to the hunt. We set up on the shoreline of a small lake that is a local favorite for ice fishing. Mike and Randy had been out squirrel hunting and noticed a good number of wood ducks on the back side of this lake, so they decided to check it out. After a little scouting, they picked out a few good blind spots, and a new hunting spot was born. After throwing out a small decoy spread, we sat back up in the weeds and began the wait. And the majority of the night was just that. Unfortunately, we were hunting a small lake that backs up to a larger lake. And on that larger lake were some over zealous duck hunters. So, most of what came by us was moving at mach 5 and on a mission. Over all it was a good spot, it was just the wrong time. And there is no such thing as a "bad time" in the blind. There are just those that you get to pull the trigger a little bit more.
Well, I got a call from my friend Mike and he asks if I want to head out with him and another good friend, Randy. From my reaction, anyone around must have thought that I had just gotten a call from the Lotto Commission. I quickly told him I would love to go, and he gave me a time to meet them.
I went up to my hunting closet and started to get all of my gear together. It felt too good to grab my duck jacket, my trusty auto-loader, and my blind bag to go hunting and not just to move them. But then I came across a problem. While we were going to be hunting from shore, any waterfowler will tell you that at some point, you will get wet. I am still wearing an immobilizing boot, and it will not fit in or around it. I had to make something that would not come off and would be waterproof, and not just for a bit. The weather channel was calling for rain for the rest of the day, so what ever I did had to last. But what could pull of such a feat? Duct tape? Even better. Gorilla Tape. MacGyver, eat your heart out. I made a single layer "boot" out of this stuff and it worked like a charm. It rained all day and I even took a spill at the water's edge, yet my foot was dry at the end of the night. So, add Gorilla Tape to that list of thing's to keep in the blind bag.
On to the hunt. We set up on the shoreline of a small lake that is a local favorite for ice fishing. Mike and Randy had been out squirrel hunting and noticed a good number of wood ducks on the back side of this lake, so they decided to check it out. After a little scouting, they picked out a few good blind spots, and a new hunting spot was born. After throwing out a small decoy spread, we sat back up in the weeds and began the wait. And the majority of the night was just that. Unfortunately, we were hunting a small lake that backs up to a larger lake. And on that larger lake were some over zealous duck hunters. So, most of what came by us was moving at mach 5 and on a mission. Over all it was a good spot, it was just the wrong time. And there is no such thing as a "bad time" in the blind. There are just those that you get to pull the trigger a little bit more.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Another Update
It has been some time since my last blog entry, so I figured I should put up a little update. Since the last entry, I have gotten a few new casts, putting my cast count up to eight. I guess I am a little hard on casts. I even had the nurse that put most of my casts on threaten me with a pink cast if I were to break any more. She kept true to her word. My seventh cast was neon pink, which my daughter loved.
My leg is healing wonderfully, with the only complication being that I lost most of the feeling in my left leg from the knee down. The feeling is coming back, though. The numbness is only in about half of my foot, from the middle of the foot to the toes.
I am also now out of the casts and into an immobilizing boot, which I will be in for another month or so. After that I have an appointment with a neurosurgeon to address the nerve issues. Yeah, not gonna happen. Color me old fashioned, but I just don't trust someone cutting and manipulating the nerves around my spine.
As for now, I am still pretty much out of the hunting game until I get the okay from my doctor. I was able to get out for opening day of waterfowl season. Once again, my good friend Brent came to the rescue and took me out to a blind that overlooks a pond behind his house. We didn't see a ton of birds, but I did get to pull the trigger plenty. I unfortunately shot the worst I have shot in a long time. I am going to chalk it up to the lack of practice this year.
Hopefully, I will get the okay to get out before the firearm opener here in Michigan. On a different note, if anyone has experience modifying a boot immobilizer to fit on the outside of waders, please email me.
My leg is healing wonderfully, with the only complication being that I lost most of the feeling in my left leg from the knee down. The feeling is coming back, though. The numbness is only in about half of my foot, from the middle of the foot to the toes.
I am also now out of the casts and into an immobilizing boot, which I will be in for another month or so. After that I have an appointment with a neurosurgeon to address the nerve issues. Yeah, not gonna happen. Color me old fashioned, but I just don't trust someone cutting and manipulating the nerves around my spine.
As for now, I am still pretty much out of the hunting game until I get the okay from my doctor. I was able to get out for opening day of waterfowl season. Once again, my good friend Brent came to the rescue and took me out to a blind that overlooks a pond behind his house. We didn't see a ton of birds, but I did get to pull the trigger plenty. I unfortunately shot the worst I have shot in a long time. I am going to chalk it up to the lack of practice this year.
Hopefully, I will get the okay to get out before the firearm opener here in Michigan. On a different note, if anyone has experience modifying a boot immobilizer to fit on the outside of waders, please email me.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
It Feels Good to Get Out
Well, last week I got yet another new cast, and this one was going to be my salvation. I was getting a walking cast that I could actually walk on. I have had a walking cast for a while, but it was just because I kept breaking them and they needed something that could stand up to the awesome power the is me. But this one was for real. And when the doctor came in and told me, I couldn't help but grin ear to ear.
The second I got home, I started making the plan to get out. My brother in law was out hunting, so I called him to make sure that we weren't going to be hunting the same land. He told me he was actually heading in and going to grab his son, and that they would swing by and pick me up. Rock on.
So I gathered up all of my gear and waited. I felt like a kid in bed on Christmas Eve. I must have gone through my gear a dozen times while waiting. Then I heard the car pull up in the driveway. The closest thing I can use to describe my actions was they were similar to that of a dog that knows it's master just came home from work. I had completely forgot about my leg. I had not taken any pain medication as I did not want to go into the woods with a firearm while feeling those effects. But, for the moment, the pain could not have any farther from my mind.
As we are getting ready, my brother in law got a phone call. It was his work, and guess who was called in? Well, it looks like it's going to be just my nephew and myself. We can do this. So, my wonderful wife drops us off in the back of 7 Lakes State Park, and we make our way into the woods. I can feel my heart pounding to the point where I can hear it. We cross the wood line into the woods and pick out a nice log to sit on and wait. After about 25 minutes, we move to another spot. After another 25 minutes and nothing, we move again. The rest of our night went about the same. We would wait 25 minutes or so and move to the next spot, seeing the occasional hunter and a few crows. By the end of the hunt, we had made it all the way to the front of the park, and we only saw one chipmunk.
The next day, I was in more pain than I had been in for a long time. And it was more than worth it. Not only did I get a young hunter out, but I myself felt like a new hunter going out for the first time.
The second I got home, I started making the plan to get out. My brother in law was out hunting, so I called him to make sure that we weren't going to be hunting the same land. He told me he was actually heading in and going to grab his son, and that they would swing by and pick me up. Rock on.
So I gathered up all of my gear and waited. I felt like a kid in bed on Christmas Eve. I must have gone through my gear a dozen times while waiting. Then I heard the car pull up in the driveway. The closest thing I can use to describe my actions was they were similar to that of a dog that knows it's master just came home from work. I had completely forgot about my leg. I had not taken any pain medication as I did not want to go into the woods with a firearm while feeling those effects. But, for the moment, the pain could not have any farther from my mind.
As we are getting ready, my brother in law got a phone call. It was his work, and guess who was called in? Well, it looks like it's going to be just my nephew and myself. We can do this. So, my wonderful wife drops us off in the back of 7 Lakes State Park, and we make our way into the woods. I can feel my heart pounding to the point where I can hear it. We cross the wood line into the woods and pick out a nice log to sit on and wait. After about 25 minutes, we move to another spot. After another 25 minutes and nothing, we move again. The rest of our night went about the same. We would wait 25 minutes or so and move to the next spot, seeing the occasional hunter and a few crows. By the end of the hunt, we had made it all the way to the front of the park, and we only saw one chipmunk.
The next day, I was in more pain than I had been in for a long time. And it was more than worth it. Not only did I get a young hunter out, but I myself felt like a new hunter going out for the first time.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
A Quick Update And A Realization
For those of you that have been following, I had an incident that left me with a cast that will be here for most of the hunting season, if not the entire season.
Well, I now have my third cast on. It's a walking cast that I can't walk on. Kind of a cruel joke if you ask me! But I destroyed my last cast, so that had to give me something that could survive my daily abuse. On the good side, it is healing according to plan. So, as of now, no surgery is needed. Thank God for that!
To make things easier, and to make sure that there is no movement of the bone fragments, I have been put in a wheelchair that I am using 90% of the time now. At first, I had this idea that I would be more able to head into the woods with my new wheels. Well, I had a rude awakening the other day. I went to a local carnival with my family like we do every year. And moving around on the pavement was not bad. But when my daughter wanted to go to the kids game tent, everything changed. It was on a grassy lot next to the parking lot, and let me tell you, soft ground is a whole different ballgame. Every divot became a little wall that I would have to try to maneuver over. Every little soft spot seemed like I was sinking in tar.
I have said a lot in the last few weeks how much respect I have now for those men and women that have life challenges (the majority much worse than mine, and permanent) and still get out and enjoy the wonderful gift of the outdoors that God has given us. And I don't want to sound like a broken record, but I can't help but give more praise to those men and women. I find out more every day about how hard things can be and how many things I have taken for granted.
Well, I now have my third cast on. It's a walking cast that I can't walk on. Kind of a cruel joke if you ask me! But I destroyed my last cast, so that had to give me something that could survive my daily abuse. On the good side, it is healing according to plan. So, as of now, no surgery is needed. Thank God for that!
To make things easier, and to make sure that there is no movement of the bone fragments, I have been put in a wheelchair that I am using 90% of the time now. At first, I had this idea that I would be more able to head into the woods with my new wheels. Well, I had a rude awakening the other day. I went to a local carnival with my family like we do every year. And moving around on the pavement was not bad. But when my daughter wanted to go to the kids game tent, everything changed. It was on a grassy lot next to the parking lot, and let me tell you, soft ground is a whole different ballgame. Every divot became a little wall that I would have to try to maneuver over. Every little soft spot seemed like I was sinking in tar.
I have said a lot in the last few weeks how much respect I have now for those men and women that have life challenges (the majority much worse than mine, and permanent) and still get out and enjoy the wonderful gift of the outdoors that God has given us. And I don't want to sound like a broken record, but I can't help but give more praise to those men and women. I find out more every day about how hard things can be and how many things I have taken for granted.
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Hard Hunt
In my last installment, I expressed how I was feeling about my situation and how it is affecting my hunting lifestyle. Now, while I still have those feelings, I am also in awe. When it comes down to it, my plight is rather small. I have a broken leg, and nothing more. I can still move around with the use of crutches, or a wheelchair, if the going is rough. And, although I will be in this state for the majority of the hunting season, come next season (God willing), I will be healed and in tip-top shape for my hunts.
What put me in awe was a group of people that I met last year at a hunting expo that I had a booth at last year in Imlay City, Michigan. The group is called Wheelin' Team 457. Their mission statement is, “to provide the physically challenged with indoor and outdoor sports and recreation”. They also strive to spread awareness. Now, the gentlemen that I met weren't in a cast like I am. They were limited to the use of a wheelchair and two of them had slightly limited use of their arms. And they were talking about a goose hunt they had been on! We talked for a bit about what they do and hunts they had been on. You simply can't help but be inspired. These guys have the passion that hunting is really all about.
And they represent that passion. They embody the true spirit of hunting and sportsmanship.
I used to take for granted how easy it was to simply go out for a quick hunt. To know what will be involved every time you hunt, and that it will never get any easier, and still have the drive to do it time and time again is something I can only hope to have for the remainder of my days.
On a different note, I am hopefully getting a wheelchair that's big enough for me (that's a whole other story) so I can get out into the woods here in the next week. Wish me luck!
What put me in awe was a group of people that I met last year at a hunting expo that I had a booth at last year in Imlay City, Michigan. The group is called Wheelin' Team 457. Their mission statement is, “to provide the physically challenged with indoor and outdoor sports and recreation”. They also strive to spread awareness. Now, the gentlemen that I met weren't in a cast like I am. They were limited to the use of a wheelchair and two of them had slightly limited use of their arms. And they were talking about a goose hunt they had been on! We talked for a bit about what they do and hunts they had been on. You simply can't help but be inspired. These guys have the passion that hunting is really all about.
And they represent that passion. They embody the true spirit of hunting and sportsmanship.
I used to take for granted how easy it was to simply go out for a quick hunt. To know what will be involved every time you hunt, and that it will never get any easier, and still have the drive to do it time and time again is something I can only hope to have for the remainder of my days.
On a different note, I am hopefully getting a wheelchair that's big enough for me (that's a whole other story) so I can get out into the woods here in the next week. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Early Season Blues
We all have our "thing". For some people it's shopping. For others, it's gambling, or alcohol, or newborn babies, or any other number of things. It's that thing you live for. The one thing that, no matter how bad things are going, will lift you up. Make you whole. For me, that one thing is waterfowling. Now, don't get me wrong. I love hunting and the outdoors. But there is just something about waterfowling that makes me whole. I would even venture to say that it borders on a religious experience.
And nothing has driven that thought home any farther than this week. If you have read my previous blog, you know that I had a mishap with a deer blind and broke my leg. So here I sit. First two days of early goose season. I should be in a blind with good friends. But I am not. And, from what they and their pictures tell me, this is the beginning of an awesome season. Mike and his group have put down more that 30 birds in the last 34 hours, one of them with a band. Now, I don't want this to sounds like I am angry. I find some comfort in knowing that they are out enjoying the sport that I love so much. But I can't help but to be jealous.
In the last 48 hours, I have felt a void that I have not felt in years, not since I started hunting. I guess it is true about what they say about "not knowing what you have until it is gone". And it's not even gone. It has simply been delayed. I know that the cast will be off by firearm deer season, so I will have some regular season waterfowling to do. And if my cast "modification" idea works, I might even be able to be in field by mid next week. But that is still a week away. A week of a two week season.
To pass the time, I have tried to read up on decoy spreads, shooting tips, and any other information I can bring up on my computer screen. If I can gain more knowledge about the sport that I am missing, the I will be all the better when I recover. But I still find my mind drifting to despair. I know you probably think this sounds like a little kid throwing a tantrum. And you would be right. That's what I feel like. Our adult lives are based on what we can control. Your entire being revolves around what you make happen, be it the littlest detail or a life altering decision. And while it was my bonehead move that put me into this predicament, I fell as if I have lost all control. Like maybe there is something I am missing. Something I can be doing to make this better. But in the end I know that I just have to be patient. When this is all said and done, there will be more seasons. This is not the end, but it sure does feel like it.
And nothing has driven that thought home any farther than this week. If you have read my previous blog, you know that I had a mishap with a deer blind and broke my leg. So here I sit. First two days of early goose season. I should be in a blind with good friends. But I am not. And, from what they and their pictures tell me, this is the beginning of an awesome season. Mike and his group have put down more that 30 birds in the last 34 hours, one of them with a band. Now, I don't want this to sounds like I am angry. I find some comfort in knowing that they are out enjoying the sport that I love so much. But I can't help but to be jealous.
In the last 48 hours, I have felt a void that I have not felt in years, not since I started hunting. I guess it is true about what they say about "not knowing what you have until it is gone". And it's not even gone. It has simply been delayed. I know that the cast will be off by firearm deer season, so I will have some regular season waterfowling to do. And if my cast "modification" idea works, I might even be able to be in field by mid next week. But that is still a week away. A week of a two week season.
To pass the time, I have tried to read up on decoy spreads, shooting tips, and any other information I can bring up on my computer screen. If I can gain more knowledge about the sport that I am missing, the I will be all the better when I recover. But I still find my mind drifting to despair. I know you probably think this sounds like a little kid throwing a tantrum. And you would be right. That's what I feel like. Our adult lives are based on what we can control. Your entire being revolves around what you make happen, be it the littlest detail or a life altering decision. And while it was my bonehead move that put me into this predicament, I fell as if I have lost all control. Like maybe there is something I am missing. Something I can be doing to make this better. But in the end I know that I just have to be patient. When this is all said and done, there will be more seasons. This is not the end, but it sure does feel like it.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Getting Ready For Deer Season; Season is Already Over
This past weekend, I headed north with a friend of mine (and two new friends) to work on some property that we are going to be hunting this year. Now, for those of you that know me, I have never shot a deer. In fact, I have never even seen a deer while deer hunting. When I am small game hunting, I dang near trip over them, but never when I am chasing the great Whitetail.
We started off by tilling up a few small plots (maybe 1/3 acre) that had been planted with clover earlier, but he didn't remove the oak leaves before he tilled, making it very acidic. Unfortunately, about half way down the trail, the drive belt snapped on the tiller. So, the rest of the day was up to us and our trusty rakes. Fun. After the leaves were picked up, we laid down a hefty helping of lime, followed by more clover, another random blend, then some neutral fertilizer. On to the next plot.
The next one wasn't nearly as bad. No leaves here. The clover here is coming up pretty well. The problem we were having was lack of sunlight. We had to remove some trees, but which ones? The problem we faced was the types of trees we were dealing with. The majority were white oak and cedar, with a few poplar in between. The poplar can go no problem, but the white oak and cedar are two major attractants for deer. So, after careful consideration, we cut a select few, making a few funnels with the fallen trees as we go. Now it's time to cut the shooting lanes for this plot. Next to this plot is the shooting house called "the condo", mainly because of the room you have to move around, and the Lay-Z-Boy chair that has replaced the overturned bucket. Part of this trip was to install another window on the one side so you would also have a shot into the food plot about 40 yards away, as well as the on in front of the shooting house. After an hour or so of clearing, we are good to go. But just to make sure, we all pile into the shooting house to check for ourselves. And it is in the next 30 seconds that my season ended before it even started.
As everyone piles out of the shooting house and down that ladder, someone made the comment about being careful coming down the ladder. Which is always a good idea, but how bad could you really get hurt falling from this thing? The top step is only at five foot at the most. So I start to make my way down. The, the next thing I know, maybe four foot off the ground, I'm falling. I don't know how it happened, but it did. I tried to bring my legs down, but my right foot became caught in the ladder, leaving my left leg the only one to break my fall. And that it did. The second I hit the ground, I heard the "crack!" come from somewhere in my lower leg. My buddy yells, "what the hell just happened?! Did you fall?". To which another friend replies, "yeah, he did. I tried to catch him, but it happened too fast.". "Are you all right?". Not wanting to ruin the rest of the work we still had before us, I replied, "Yeah. I'm fine. I just need to move around so it doesn't get stiff. I can walk this one off". With the adrenaline and initial shock, the pain was not bad at all, so I just kept working. But after a bit, each step became harder and harder, until eventually it was too much and I had to sit the rest of the day out. The other guys worked like madmen trying to get the rest of the work done so we could get out of there, and after a couple more hours, all of the work was done. Well, everything aside from the window because Brent forgot to bring the hinges and enough OSB (I told you I wouldn't let you forget that move :)). After that, we made our way back down south, with a little side trip to drop me off at one of the local hospitals. So, I sit here writing this on opening day of early goose season with a cast that will be with me for quite some time and my broken tibia. But all is not lost yet. I'm working on an idea for and epoxy coating and Mossy Oak Duck Blind burlap for the new cast I get next week. Wish me luck...
We started off by tilling up a few small plots (maybe 1/3 acre) that had been planted with clover earlier, but he didn't remove the oak leaves before he tilled, making it very acidic. Unfortunately, about half way down the trail, the drive belt snapped on the tiller. So, the rest of the day was up to us and our trusty rakes. Fun. After the leaves were picked up, we laid down a hefty helping of lime, followed by more clover, another random blend, then some neutral fertilizer. On to the next plot.
The next one wasn't nearly as bad. No leaves here. The clover here is coming up pretty well. The problem we were having was lack of sunlight. We had to remove some trees, but which ones? The problem we faced was the types of trees we were dealing with. The majority were white oak and cedar, with a few poplar in between. The poplar can go no problem, but the white oak and cedar are two major attractants for deer. So, after careful consideration, we cut a select few, making a few funnels with the fallen trees as we go. Now it's time to cut the shooting lanes for this plot. Next to this plot is the shooting house called "the condo", mainly because of the room you have to move around, and the Lay-Z-Boy chair that has replaced the overturned bucket. Part of this trip was to install another window on the one side so you would also have a shot into the food plot about 40 yards away, as well as the on in front of the shooting house. After an hour or so of clearing, we are good to go. But just to make sure, we all pile into the shooting house to check for ourselves. And it is in the next 30 seconds that my season ended before it even started.
As everyone piles out of the shooting house and down that ladder, someone made the comment about being careful coming down the ladder. Which is always a good idea, but how bad could you really get hurt falling from this thing? The top step is only at five foot at the most. So I start to make my way down. The, the next thing I know, maybe four foot off the ground, I'm falling. I don't know how it happened, but it did. I tried to bring my legs down, but my right foot became caught in the ladder, leaving my left leg the only one to break my fall. And that it did. The second I hit the ground, I heard the "crack!" come from somewhere in my lower leg. My buddy yells, "what the hell just happened?! Did you fall?". To which another friend replies, "yeah, he did. I tried to catch him, but it happened too fast.". "Are you all right?". Not wanting to ruin the rest of the work we still had before us, I replied, "Yeah. I'm fine. I just need to move around so it doesn't get stiff. I can walk this one off". With the adrenaline and initial shock, the pain was not bad at all, so I just kept working. But after a bit, each step became harder and harder, until eventually it was too much and I had to sit the rest of the day out. The other guys worked like madmen trying to get the rest of the work done so we could get out of there, and after a couple more hours, all of the work was done. Well, everything aside from the window because Brent forgot to bring the hinges and enough OSB (I told you I wouldn't let you forget that move :)). After that, we made our way back down south, with a little side trip to drop me off at one of the local hospitals. So, I sit here writing this on opening day of early goose season with a cast that will be with me for quite some time and my broken tibia. But all is not lost yet. I'm working on an idea for and epoxy coating and Mossy Oak Duck Blind burlap for the new cast I get next week. Wish me luck...
Friday, August 14, 2009
2009-10 Michigan Waterfowl Dates & Regulations
The waterfowl season is fast approaching, so its time to start making our plans on the water and in the fields. I just received this email from the Michigan DNR today, outlining this up coming season...
Michigan duck hunters will enjoy three opening days this fall as the
Natural Resources Commission set waterfowl seasons at its meeting
Thursday in Lansing.
The seasons, which were recommended by Department of Natural Resources
biologists, correspond to the recommendations of the Citizens Waterfowl
Advisory Committee, which met Aug. 8.
Duck seasons will run Sept. 26 - Nov. 20 and Nov. 26-29 in the North
Zone (Upper Peninsula), Oct. 3 - Nov. 29 and Dec. 5-6 in the Middle
Zone, and Oct. 10 - Dec. 6 and Jan. 2-3 in the South Zone.
There is an open season on canvasbacks this year as well as expanded
opportunity for scaup. The daily bag limit is six ducks to include no
more than four mallards (no more than one hen), three wood ducks, two
redheads, two scaup, one pintail, one black duck and one canvasback.
Early Canada goose season opens Sept. 1 and runs through Sept. 15
statewide, except for the Upper Peninsula and Saginaw, Tuscola and Huron
counties, where it runs through Sept. 10. The daily bag limit is five.
Regular goose seasons are Sept. 16 - Oct. 30 in the North Zone; Oct.3 -
Nov. 9 and Nov. 26 - Dec. 2 in the Middle Zone; and Oct. 10 - Nov. 12
and Nov. 26 - Dec. 6 in the South Zone, except for designated Goose
Management Units (GMU). The daily bag limit is two.
In the Saginaw County and Tuscola/Huron GMUs, the goose season is Oct.
10 - Nov. 12, Nov. 26 - Dec.6, and Jan. 2-31 with a bag limit of two.
In the Allegan County GMU, the season is Nov. 28 - Dec. 21 and Dec.
28-Jan. 17 with a bag limit of two.
In the Muskegon Waste Water GMU, the season is Oct. 13 - Nov. 14 and
Dec. 1-12 with a bag limit of two.
Elsewhere in the South Zone, the late season is Jan. 2-31 with a bag
limit of five.
Hunters may also harvest other geese during the regular and late goose
seasons in their respective zones. The bag limits are 10 snow, blue and
Ross’ geese in combination; and one white-fronted goose or one brant.
Hunters are also reminded of the Youth Waterfowl Weekend on Sept.
19-20. This hunt is statewide for licensed youths 10 to 15 years of
age. Youths must be accompanied by a parent, guardian, or someone 18
years or older. The adult will not be allowed to hunt waterfowl and is
not required to have a waterfowl hunting license. The daily limits are
the same as those allowed for the regular duck season.
To learn more about hunting opportunities in Michigan, visit the
DNR’s Web site at www.michigan.gov/dnrhunting.
Michigan duck hunters will enjoy three opening days this fall as the
Natural Resources Commission set waterfowl seasons at its meeting
Thursday in Lansing.
The seasons, which were recommended by Department of Natural Resources
biologists, correspond to the recommendations of the Citizens Waterfowl
Advisory Committee, which met Aug. 8.
Duck seasons will run Sept. 26 - Nov. 20 and Nov. 26-29 in the North
Zone (Upper Peninsula), Oct. 3 - Nov. 29 and Dec. 5-6 in the Middle
Zone, and Oct. 10 - Dec. 6 and Jan. 2-3 in the South Zone.
There is an open season on canvasbacks this year as well as expanded
opportunity for scaup. The daily bag limit is six ducks to include no
more than four mallards (no more than one hen), three wood ducks, two
redheads, two scaup, one pintail, one black duck and one canvasback.
Early Canada goose season opens Sept. 1 and runs through Sept. 15
statewide, except for the Upper Peninsula and Saginaw, Tuscola and Huron
counties, where it runs through Sept. 10. The daily bag limit is five.
Regular goose seasons are Sept. 16 - Oct. 30 in the North Zone; Oct.3 -
Nov. 9 and Nov. 26 - Dec. 2 in the Middle Zone; and Oct. 10 - Nov. 12
and Nov. 26 - Dec. 6 in the South Zone, except for designated Goose
Management Units (GMU). The daily bag limit is two.
In the Saginaw County and Tuscola/Huron GMUs, the goose season is Oct.
10 - Nov. 12, Nov. 26 - Dec.6, and Jan. 2-31 with a bag limit of two.
In the Allegan County GMU, the season is Nov. 28 - Dec. 21 and Dec.
28-Jan. 17 with a bag limit of two.
In the Muskegon Waste Water GMU, the season is Oct. 13 - Nov. 14 and
Dec. 1-12 with a bag limit of two.
Elsewhere in the South Zone, the late season is Jan. 2-31 with a bag
limit of five.
Hunters may also harvest other geese during the regular and late goose
seasons in their respective zones. The bag limits are 10 snow, blue and
Ross’ geese in combination; and one white-fronted goose or one brant.
Hunters are also reminded of the Youth Waterfowl Weekend on Sept.
19-20. This hunt is statewide for licensed youths 10 to 15 years of
age. Youths must be accompanied by a parent, guardian, or someone 18
years or older. The adult will not be allowed to hunt waterfowl and is
not required to have a waterfowl hunting license. The daily limits are
the same as those allowed for the regular duck season.
To learn more about hunting opportunities in Michigan, visit the
DNR’s Web site at www.michigan.gov/dnrhunting.
Monday, July 13, 2009
My First Tukey Hunt
Some people might call me a green horn when it comes to hunting. While most people get their start in the outdoors at a young age, I did not hear the call of the wild until later in life. So, to me, some of what I experience in the woods is done so through virgin eyes. I experience the same wonderment and awe that is felt by a child on their first hunt. That is the reason I never turn down the opportunity to hunt something new. And most recently, that new thing was turkey.
And, as most of my new adventures, my good friend Mike Adams was there to show me the way. Our first morning, we make our usual stop at the golden arches, then head over to the hunting grounds. As we are getting our gear on, I hear the distance thunder of a gobble. Commence adrenaline application. Now, we are hunting in an area that I thought I knew well. Yet, as we head in, I'm already noticing new things. As we entered a large, open field, we hear the thunder again. I can feel my heart starting to beat faster. But we are a bit behind schedule, so we start to pick up the pace. As we head into the woods, we hear a few more gobbles, and we start moving even faster. At this point, we are being less than stealthy. After debating a few different spots, we settled down in front of a fallen oak tree with Mike sitting on a crook in the top of the tree and myself kneeling behind it.
That's when we heard them sound off. We had thought that we were within maybe 150 yards of their roosting tree. We were wrong. Somehow, even after all the noise we had made coming in, we had made it to within 40 yards of their roosting tree! And they were none the wiser. Mike started in on the calls and then we sat in anticipation for a second or two before they started to talk back. It was game on. They made their way to us in no time flat, sounding off the whole way. My heart felt like it was going to start breaking ribs. Then, when they got about 20 yards away from us, they stopped. We were rushing in so quickly to set up, we did not notice the flooded timber between, directly in front of us. And turkeys are not fond of water. They would look at our decoys, then pace in a small circle, then stare our decoys down again. And the whole time this was going on, I was in a position where I could not see a thing! This went on for about seven hours (it was really more like ten minutes).
It was at about this time that I was starting to feel the pain of sitting perfectly still for so long in a kneeling position. I quietly asked Mike let me know when it was clear for me to move, and he just kept telling me, "not yet". After what seemed like another seven hours, he whispered, "Okay. You can move now. Just try to keep low," as the turkeys were looking for a way around the water. So I quietly hopped over to the other side of the tree. And that's when I saw my first turkey up close. I mean, I was close enough where I could see their eyes. I was two seconds away from going into total meltdown. I just wanted to pull that trigger so bad, I could taste it.
But I did not have a good shot. Mike could have possibly taken one, but he said he wanted to see me take my first gobbler, so he declined.
That's when nature stepped in. On a ridge about 150 yards off, a hen started to yelp. And that was it. Check and mate. Those toms were off like a rocket. Turkeys 1 and Hunters 0.
So, we go to check out another spot down the road. On the way there, we saw a tom in a small clearing off of the side of the road. We quickly pull over and set up in a field not too far away from the other, and Mike starts in with the calling. We listen, but hear nothing. After a little looking around, that tom is no where to be found. Off to the next spot.
We took a small drive to see if we can spot any in a field that we normally see them in. As we pass, time stops. There he is. A boss tom that would be a prise for any hunter. Just standing there in all of his glory. We spin the truck around and head up to an old access road to start our hike in. This is going to be tough, as the land we saw him on was private property, so we are going to have to call him to us. And big turkeys, just like every other prize animal, don't get to be that big by being stupid. They are smarter than the rest. That's how they have made it this long. After a nice hike up the back of this property, we find what looks to be another old access road, and our target is at the end of it and just off to the side. So, once again, we set up. Mike starts in with the calling. He threw everything he had at him. Nothing. This one lives for another season.
I went out again with Mike, once with his son, and a few times by myself, with the same results as that first day. But I learned a lot, spent time with good friends, and most of all, it was quality time spent outdoors!
And, as most of my new adventures, my good friend Mike Adams was there to show me the way. Our first morning, we make our usual stop at the golden arches, then head over to the hunting grounds. As we are getting our gear on, I hear the distance thunder of a gobble. Commence adrenaline application. Now, we are hunting in an area that I thought I knew well. Yet, as we head in, I'm already noticing new things. As we entered a large, open field, we hear the thunder again. I can feel my heart starting to beat faster. But we are a bit behind schedule, so we start to pick up the pace. As we head into the woods, we hear a few more gobbles, and we start moving even faster. At this point, we are being less than stealthy. After debating a few different spots, we settled down in front of a fallen oak tree with Mike sitting on a crook in the top of the tree and myself kneeling behind it.
That's when we heard them sound off. We had thought that we were within maybe 150 yards of their roosting tree. We were wrong. Somehow, even after all the noise we had made coming in, we had made it to within 40 yards of their roosting tree! And they were none the wiser. Mike started in on the calls and then we sat in anticipation for a second or two before they started to talk back. It was game on. They made their way to us in no time flat, sounding off the whole way. My heart felt like it was going to start breaking ribs. Then, when they got about 20 yards away from us, they stopped. We were rushing in so quickly to set up, we did not notice the flooded timber between, directly in front of us. And turkeys are not fond of water. They would look at our decoys, then pace in a small circle, then stare our decoys down again. And the whole time this was going on, I was in a position where I could not see a thing! This went on for about seven hours (it was really more like ten minutes).
It was at about this time that I was starting to feel the pain of sitting perfectly still for so long in a kneeling position. I quietly asked Mike let me know when it was clear for me to move, and he just kept telling me, "not yet". After what seemed like another seven hours, he whispered, "Okay. You can move now. Just try to keep low," as the turkeys were looking for a way around the water. So I quietly hopped over to the other side of the tree. And that's when I saw my first turkey up close. I mean, I was close enough where I could see their eyes. I was two seconds away from going into total meltdown. I just wanted to pull that trigger so bad, I could taste it.
But I did not have a good shot. Mike could have possibly taken one, but he said he wanted to see me take my first gobbler, so he declined.
That's when nature stepped in. On a ridge about 150 yards off, a hen started to yelp. And that was it. Check and mate. Those toms were off like a rocket. Turkeys 1 and Hunters 0.
So, we go to check out another spot down the road. On the way there, we saw a tom in a small clearing off of the side of the road. We quickly pull over and set up in a field not too far away from the other, and Mike starts in with the calling. We listen, but hear nothing. After a little looking around, that tom is no where to be found. Off to the next spot.
We took a small drive to see if we can spot any in a field that we normally see them in. As we pass, time stops. There he is. A boss tom that would be a prise for any hunter. Just standing there in all of his glory. We spin the truck around and head up to an old access road to start our hike in. This is going to be tough, as the land we saw him on was private property, so we are going to have to call him to us. And big turkeys, just like every other prize animal, don't get to be that big by being stupid. They are smarter than the rest. That's how they have made it this long. After a nice hike up the back of this property, we find what looks to be another old access road, and our target is at the end of it and just off to the side. So, once again, we set up. Mike starts in with the calling. He threw everything he had at him. Nothing. This one lives for another season.
I went out again with Mike, once with his son, and a few times by myself, with the same results as that first day. But I learned a lot, spent time with good friends, and most of all, it was quality time spent outdoors!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Second Annual Houghton Lake Ice Fishing Trip
Well, it's been a while since I have last written, so I have alot of catching up to do! And the first story that I would like to tell is about our trip up to Houghton Lake for another stay out on the ice and the adventures that come with it. This year, my good friend Mike, along with his sons (and equally good friends) Mike and Jake accompanied me on this winter camp out. We started out our trip early Friday morning with a break from the norm and went to Tim Hortons instead of our normal Micky D's breakfast befor our two and a half hour drive. We arrived at Lyman's on the Lake where we checked in and bought all of our last minute supplies and bait. They helped us load all of our things onto the shuttle they provided and we made our way out to our home for the weekend. There was a pleasant surprise this year, as Lymans added a second set of bunks on the other side of the shanty. We got set up and started to rig up our poles and tip-ups with eager anticipation to the fishing frenzy we were about to take part in. After about an hour, we started popping holes in the ice with our new StrikeMaster power auger (we HAD to get a new toy for the trip) and set our tip-ups around the shanty.
But lets backtrack for a second. Before we had left, we decided we were going to play a game called "group tip-up". The rules of this game are pretty simple. Every hour or so, a new tip-up is chosen out of the group and deemed the "group tip-up". During that time, anyone who sees the flag spring on that tip-up can get it. If more than one person notices, they can do anything in their power (within reason - we don't want any one getting sevely hurt) to prevent the others from getting it first. The first person to get their hands on the tip-up gets to reel it in.
Now, back to the fishing. It's about here is where I would like to tell you that we brought them in left and right. That it was all we could do to keep bait on our lines. But that's not how it happened. Along with us came a low pressure system that killed all the fishing on the lake. There we a few flags here and there, but none in our camp.
Combine that with the near foot of snow that came down in blizzard conditions, it just wasn't a good weekend for ice fighting. But we still had a good time. We made the best of all of the time we spent inside our shanty. We ate like kings, told and retold stories, and made some fond memories. After all, isn't that what it's all about?
But lets backtrack for a second. Before we had left, we decided we were going to play a game called "group tip-up". The rules of this game are pretty simple. Every hour or so, a new tip-up is chosen out of the group and deemed the "group tip-up". During that time, anyone who sees the flag spring on that tip-up can get it. If more than one person notices, they can do anything in their power (within reason - we don't want any one getting sevely hurt) to prevent the others from getting it first. The first person to get their hands on the tip-up gets to reel it in.
Now, back to the fishing. It's about here is where I would like to tell you that we brought them in left and right. That it was all we could do to keep bait on our lines. But that's not how it happened. Along with us came a low pressure system that killed all the fishing on the lake. There we a few flags here and there, but none in our camp.
Combine that with the near foot of snow that came down in blizzard conditions, it just wasn't a good weekend for ice fighting. But we still had a good time. We made the best of all of the time we spent inside our shanty. We ate like kings, told and retold stories, and made some fond memories. After all, isn't that what it's all about?
Sunday, January 4, 2009
First Limit of the Year on the Ice
Last weekend I was really craving some fish so I decided to go find a cure for my hunger. I headed out to Little Seven Lake in Holly to try my early morning luck. The walk out was less than fun because of the foot of snow on the ground. To make it even better, it was very warm out for this time of year, so the snow was thick and heavy. As I made the trek out to the ice, I noticed a lot of wet spots on the ice. I set my gear on the shore and made my way out with my spud. I avoided the wet spots and made a zig-zag pattern across the ice, checking every 10 feet or so. A solid 4 inches in most spots. So I went back and grabbed my gear and went out to my spot and set up. I cleared out an area of snow five foot by five foot and cut my hole. The second I broke through, water poured out, and the rest of the day I was standing in about 3 inches of water. Thank God I bought those new insulated rubber knee boots! When I finally got set up, I pulled out my trusty pan fish ice , tipped the teardrop with a waxxie, and sent it on it's way to work. I found bottom, reeled up about a foot, and let it set. Then, the first strike of the day. A nice gill. Teardrop back down the hole. This time, it didn't even have enough time to reach bottom. Another bite. And another nice gill. I repeated this process for about two hours. After the first 15, I started to get picky about what to keep. "Nothing under seven inches," I told myself. About two hours is all it took to limit out for the first time this ice season. I was home by 10am and ready to feed my addiction for fish. My wife found a new recipe for fish that I have dubbed "Fish Crack" because of it is possibly one of the simplest and best recipes I have ever had. And that recipe will be on here soon, I promise.
My Limit from Little Seven
Friday, December 19, 2008
First Ice!!!
Well, the time is here to start fishing the hard waters of Michigan! I headed out to a local lake to test the ice and see if my season of ice fishing could start. I ventured out on Little Seven Lake in Seven Lakes State Park and was happy to find 4+ inches of good, solid ice! It was only an hour or so until dark, so my time was limited. I popped a hole in the ice, set up and sat down. For the next hour, it was all I could do to keep my hands warm because I never had enough time to get my gloves on! Now when I went out, I didn't think I would find good ice, let alone find a hot-spot on the first hole. I was pulling gills up as fast as I could put the line back down to the bottom. Out of the 30 or so fish that I caught, 15 were definite keepers along with a 15 inch bass, my first taken through the ice. But, I didn't feel like cleaning any fish that night, so everything made it back to the hole.
The kids and their catch from our day on the ice
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A couple of days later I went out to Big Seven Lake and found a solid 5+ inches of good ice, but lady luck wasn't with me that day and I went home with an empty bucket.
Then this past weekend, I decided to take my two youngest out on the ice with me. I was also accompanied by Mikey from the Up North Journal. We decided to hit Little Seven Lake again and try our luck. I got my kids set up and, at first, the bite was slow. We really didn't have any action for the first hour. But then things picked up and the spring bobbers on the end of our rods were starting to earn their keep. In between bites, the kids were taking turns spinning in circles on the buckets and making snow angels, as well as a quick game of "fishball" (it's just like football, just with a frozen fish).
Every couple of minutes they would come back over to the poles and fish for a second before finding another game to play. One of the times they came back to fish, my daughter, Caitlyn, was holding the rod and the tip bent right down. She fought and fought like it was the last thing she was going to do. After a minute or so of reeling, I saw the flash of silver in the hole. When she finally pulled that fish out of the hole, I couldn't have been more proud. My daughter had pulled her first bass out of the ice. At only 12 inches, we had to let him swim away, but not before a picture and alot of praise. Later that night, I cleaned the fish and tried a new recipe. But that will have to wait until next time...
The kids and their catch from our day on the ice
Caitlyn and her first bass
Friday, December 5, 2008
A Great Salmon Recipe: Maple Salmon
Over the past three weeks, I haven't been feeling 100%, so I haven't been out in the field a whole lot. Then, I have spent the better part of this past week getting various tests done, most of which required fasting. As of last night, I hadn't eaten in almost 48 hours, but I was still restricted because of another test, and could only eat off of a very limited menu. No meat, vegetables, butter, dairy, fried, or fatty foods. I was not very happy with my choices, but then I noticed at the bottom of the list that I could have fish! Rock On! So I dug up some old recipes and found a great one that is simple and delicious....
Maple Salmon
Ingredients:
Ingredients:1/4 cup Maple Syrup (if you want, you can cheat and use imitation)
1 pound of Salmon (I use fillets, but you can use stakes; just keep them under 2in. thick)
1/8 tbsp Ground Black Pepper
1 clove Garlic (minced)
1/4 tsp Garlic Salt
2 tbsp Soy Sauce
Mix together the soy sauce, maple syrup, garlic, garlic salt, and pepper. In a shallow baking dish, place the salmon and coat with the syrup mixture, cover, and place in the fridge for 1 hour, turning once. Preheat the oven to 400F. Then, place the baking dish in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, or until easily flaked with a fork.
Simple as that. Easy and oh-so delicious. And it's healthy to boot!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Another Great Waterfowl Weekend
A couple of weekends ago, both of the Mikes from the Up North Journal and I spent most of the weekend waterfowl hunting and it was great! We started out Friday night on Lake Ponemah on a little island that I have never hunted off of. Every time we have been out, someone has been out there, so we just go somewhere else. As we are first getting set up, I noticed a couple of mallards making their way off of the island, right where we were about to set our blind up at! Well, at least we know that there are ducks here!
After about 30 minutes, our decoys are set up and the blind is finished. We plop down and get ready for the onslaught. Nothing. It wasn't until an hour later that we heard a flight of geese coming in. With the gun mounted camera rolling on Big Mike's gun, Little Mike and I are laying in on the goose calls (well, I'm putting as many clucks out as I could manage while Little Mike throws out his champion calling skills) and they are coming right for us. There were three groups in the incoming flight, and the last group was looking promising. They started to veer towards us but they were not going to commit, so when they started to come overhead, we let loose. The lead goose dropped, but the rest kept flying. And that was pretty much the end of that night of hunting. But, around here, one is better than none. And, after reviewing the video and audio, we came to the conclusion that it was my bird. Add some more to the freezer.
The next morning, we headed out to another local lake that is only a few miles down the road from me. Big Seven Lake is in the middle of Seven Lakes State Park and is definitely our local waterfowl hangout. We were out on the water by 5:30am and set up with about 20 minutes to spare before first light. Right off the bat, the ducks were flying. This was going to be a good morning. After a few fly-bys that snuck past us, we had a pair fly in and circle around. They decoyed a little short and landed on the outside of the spread and swam in. When they got within range, we jump up to get them flying, but they just sat there. So we started yelling. They just sat there. Then we started throwing sticks. They just sat there. What was going on?!? No matter what we did, they just sat there and stared at us. So, we got out of the blind and started splashing towards them. Nothing. It wasn't until I got about 15 yards away did they even start to get up. I took one and Little Mike took the other. A mallard and a hen to start the morning off. The rest of the day was action packed. Birds were flying all over the place. We called a few in, but for the most part we were pass shooting. Or should I say pass missing. We didn't get anymore birds that day, but it was still a good day.
The next morning we headed out to the same place. Set-up was done with 20 minutes to spare again. Right at first light we had a flight of Wigeon come in from the west and they came in fast. They decoyed perfectly. Little Mike took the first one in. When he brought it up, it was perfect. A good sized body, perfect color, and just a few pellet makes in well hidden areas. With in the first five minutes, he decided that this one was going to be mounted. A while later another flight came in and Big Mike drop the middle one like a rock. We are pretty sure that Little Mike got one, but he managed to fly off. After two trips out in the boat and a walk around the island, we couldn't find him. But it wasn't from a lack of trying. We now had a Black duck to add to the count. After that, it was another day of throwing steel. I think in the next year, I'm going to join up with a sportsman's club that has a trap course.
So, all in all it was a good local weekend with some birds put in the freezer.
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"Little" Mike and I
This is the Video "Big" Mike made of our waterfowling weekend....enjoy!
After about 30 minutes, our decoys are set up and the blind is finished. We plop down and get ready for the onslaught. Nothing. It wasn't until an hour later that we heard a flight of geese coming in. With the gun mounted camera rolling on Big Mike's gun, Little Mike and I are laying in on the goose calls (well, I'm putting as many clucks out as I could manage while Little Mike throws out his champion calling skills) and they are coming right for us. There were three groups in the incoming flight, and the last group was looking promising. They started to veer towards us but they were not going to commit, so when they started to come overhead, we let loose. The lead goose dropped, but the rest kept flying. And that was pretty much the end of that night of hunting. But, around here, one is better than none. And, after reviewing the video and audio, we came to the conclusion that it was my bird. Add some more to the freezer.
The next morning, we headed out to another local lake that is only a few miles down the road from me. Big Seven Lake is in the middle of Seven Lakes State Park and is definitely our local waterfowl hangout. We were out on the water by 5:30am and set up with about 20 minutes to spare before first light. Right off the bat, the ducks were flying. This was going to be a good morning. After a few fly-bys that snuck past us, we had a pair fly in and circle around. They decoyed a little short and landed on the outside of the spread and swam in. When they got within range, we jump up to get them flying, but they just sat there. So we started yelling. They just sat there. Then we started throwing sticks. They just sat there. What was going on?!? No matter what we did, they just sat there and stared at us. So, we got out of the blind and started splashing towards them. Nothing. It wasn't until I got about 15 yards away did they even start to get up. I took one and Little Mike took the other. A mallard and a hen to start the morning off. The rest of the day was action packed. Birds were flying all over the place. We called a few in, but for the most part we were pass shooting. Or should I say pass missing. We didn't get anymore birds that day, but it was still a good day.
The next morning we headed out to the same place. Set-up was done with 20 minutes to spare again. Right at first light we had a flight of Wigeon come in from the west and they came in fast. They decoyed perfectly. Little Mike took the first one in. When he brought it up, it was perfect. A good sized body, perfect color, and just a few pellet makes in well hidden areas. With in the first five minutes, he decided that this one was going to be mounted. A while later another flight came in and Big Mike drop the middle one like a rock. We are pretty sure that Little Mike got one, but he managed to fly off. After two trips out in the boat and a walk around the island, we couldn't find him. But it wasn't from a lack of trying. We now had a Black duck to add to the count. After that, it was another day of throwing steel. I think in the next year, I'm going to join up with a sportsman's club that has a trap course.
So, all in all it was a good local weekend with some birds put in the freezer.
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"Little" Mike and I
This is the Video "Big" Mike made of our waterfowling weekend....enjoy!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The One that Almost Got Away
There is a little spot where I love to hunt squirrel. It's a little track of state land that has been very good to me. And nestled a ways back in my little haven is a small pond. A small pond that almost always has ducks on it. So, if my waterfowling adventures aren't going too well, I usually make the hike back and try to take a duck there. It's the same every time. I approach from the trail coming from the south, sneak down the bank, and they get spooked and fly from the east side of the pond to the west. And as they start to fly over the west bank, I take my shot and they come down in the woods just past the bank. I go and retrieve them and all is well.
Well, after an unsuccessful hunt early last year, I decided to make my way back towards my secret little duck pond. And as I crept down the bank there, as always, were a few mallards swimming on the east side of the pond. I got into position then stood up, and they took off as according to plan. They reached the other side of the pond, I pulled up, squeezed the trigger, and BOOM! The mallard hen trailing the others did a nose dive into the woods. Perfect! I was giddy as a school kid as I made my way towards the other side of the pond (I still get the same feeling that I got with the first animal I harvested every time I take game) and into the woods. And there she was, just waiting for me to collect her. I got about five yards away, and she started to move. Heck. I winged her. Oh well, what's done is done, so I'll go finish the job. I took a step then BAM! I'm on the ground cursing the root I had just tripped over. Then, I look up, and she is making her getaway. I raise my gun and squeeze the trigger to take another shot before she can make it to the water and, wouldn't you know, I had the safety on. Now cursing my self, I take the safety off, but it's too late. She's in the water and swimming away. So, there I stand with my gun in hand, staring at the duck I winged swimming in the middle of a pond, and no way to go out and get her. This will not do. Now, I had pulled the trigger, so it was my responsibility to retrieve this animal no matter what. But how? That's when the light bulb lit up. I have an inflatable raft in my trunk! Awesome! But the car is a 15 minute walk away and I don't want her wandering off and then I won't be able to find her. So, I sprint back to the car. Keep in mind that I am in my full hunting wardrobe complete down to my 1000 gram Thinsulate hunting boots. Also keep in mind that I am 6 foot tall and weigh in at a robust 310 pounds. So, I get to the car and I am now drenched from sweat. I open the trunk and pull out the raft and one small oar and start to make my way back. To save time, I get the brilliant idea to inflate the raft as I am running as to save time. After almost blacking out a few times, I finally make it back to the pond and my prize is still waiting for me. Rock on. I finish blowing up the raft and think to myself "funny. I remember this raft being a lot bigger". The raft I had was one of my kid's pool rafts. I look on the bottom and laugh as I read the label proclaiming "100lb max". This should be fun. So I take my boots off along with most of my hunting gear because I know how this is going to end up. I put the raft into the water and start to ease myself down onto it. As I settle down I wait for the water to start coming over the sides, but nothing. This might work after all. Then I push off , and it just gets bad from here. The moment I leave the safety of the four inch deep water, I feel the cold rush of water all over. Now, imagine this. A rather large hunter in a little red and grey play raft in the middle of a pond, legs dangling in the water (so I can keep my balance, and because the raft is only about three feet long) with one paddle chasing after a downed duck. It was quite the sight. And every time I would try to paddle, I would have to reposition the way I way laying to be able to row on the other side. So, amidst everything else, I was spinning in little half circles. I was in that water for almost 20 minutes before I caught up to that duck. When I finally did, I ended it quickly, then headed back to shore. I couldn't help but laugh as I paddled back in. I sat on the bank for about 30 minutes drying off in the sun and contemplating what had just occurred.
The one that almost got away
Well, after an unsuccessful hunt early last year, I decided to make my way back towards my secret little duck pond. And as I crept down the bank there, as always, were a few mallards swimming on the east side of the pond. I got into position then stood up, and they took off as according to plan. They reached the other side of the pond, I pulled up, squeezed the trigger, and BOOM! The mallard hen trailing the others did a nose dive into the woods. Perfect! I was giddy as a school kid as I made my way towards the other side of the pond (I still get the same feeling that I got with the first animal I harvested every time I take game) and into the woods. And there she was, just waiting for me to collect her. I got about five yards away, and she started to move. Heck. I winged her. Oh well, what's done is done, so I'll go finish the job. I took a step then BAM! I'm on the ground cursing the root I had just tripped over. Then, I look up, and she is making her getaway. I raise my gun and squeeze the trigger to take another shot before she can make it to the water and, wouldn't you know, I had the safety on. Now cursing my self, I take the safety off, but it's too late. She's in the water and swimming away. So, there I stand with my gun in hand, staring at the duck I winged swimming in the middle of a pond, and no way to go out and get her. This will not do. Now, I had pulled the trigger, so it was my responsibility to retrieve this animal no matter what. But how? That's when the light bulb lit up. I have an inflatable raft in my trunk! Awesome! But the car is a 15 minute walk away and I don't want her wandering off and then I won't be able to find her. So, I sprint back to the car. Keep in mind that I am in my full hunting wardrobe complete down to my 1000 gram Thinsulate hunting boots. Also keep in mind that I am 6 foot tall and weigh in at a robust 310 pounds. So, I get to the car and I am now drenched from sweat. I open the trunk and pull out the raft and one small oar and start to make my way back. To save time, I get the brilliant idea to inflate the raft as I am running as to save time. After almost blacking out a few times, I finally make it back to the pond and my prize is still waiting for me. Rock on. I finish blowing up the raft and think to myself "funny. I remember this raft being a lot bigger". The raft I had was one of my kid's pool rafts. I look on the bottom and laugh as I read the label proclaiming "100lb max". This should be fun. So I take my boots off along with most of my hunting gear because I know how this is going to end up. I put the raft into the water and start to ease myself down onto it. As I settle down I wait for the water to start coming over the sides, but nothing. This might work after all. Then I push off , and it just gets bad from here. The moment I leave the safety of the four inch deep water, I feel the cold rush of water all over. Now, imagine this. A rather large hunter in a little red and grey play raft in the middle of a pond, legs dangling in the water (so I can keep my balance, and because the raft is only about three feet long) with one paddle chasing after a downed duck. It was quite the sight. And every time I would try to paddle, I would have to reposition the way I way laying to be able to row on the other side. So, amidst everything else, I was spinning in little half circles. I was in that water for almost 20 minutes before I caught up to that duck. When I finally did, I ended it quickly, then headed back to shore. I couldn't help but laugh as I paddled back in. I sat on the bank for about 30 minutes drying off in the sun and contemplating what had just occurred.
The one that almost got away
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Duck Hunting Fish Point
One of my favorite activities is waterfowl hunting. It's a little more social than other forms of hunting and when the action starts to pick up, there is nothing like it. There have been times while I'm sitting in a deer blind, it's below freezing, I've been in the same sitting position for four hours and I think to myself "it would be really nice to be home right now". I stick it out because that's a part of hunting. But I can honestly say that I have never felt that for even a second while waterfowl hunting. Even last year while I was up at Fish Point by the Saginaw Bay. By 8a.m., I could no longer feel my feet. By 10a.m., I was numb from the knees down. But it was worth every second, even though I didn't take a single shot the entire day. But back to the point of my story.
Fish Point contains more than 3,000 acres of flat farm fields, diked floodings, and coastal wetlands and prairies. Biologists manage the water levels and vegetation for the benefit of waterfowl and other animals that rely on wetland habitats for survival. And with the tremendous variety and abundance of waterfowl found here, the Fish Point area has been called the “Chesapeake of the Midwest”. While there is plenty of excellent hunting in this area, part of the state game area is a wildlife refuge and is off-limits to the public year-round. Unless, that is, if you volunteer for the Fish Point volunteer work weekend. Those that participate in this maintenance and upkeep event get a tour through the sanctuary, something most everyone else in the general public will never see. They have an observation tower and wildlife viewing trail to enjoy the wildlife when you are not hunting. There are also a few private lodges for those that would like a more guided experience. The lodges offer the basic from just a blind to hunt out of to fully guided hunts which include your decoys set, a dog and even lunch brought out to you in the blind.
Now, if you want to hunt the state game area, you have to be there bright and early. The huntable property is divided up into hunting zones. There are areas of corn, flooded corn, field, and little ponds and marshes. A few of these sites have blinds set up, but for the most part you are on your own. But, to get any of these, you must enter the lotto. When you first arrive, you are assigned the number in the order you came in, i.e. if you are the first person to walk into the building that morning, your number would be 1. If you are the second person, you would be number 2, and so on. Then, at 5:30a.m. (don't quote me on that, but I'm pretty sure that's that time) they pick a sheet of numbers randomly from a stack of about 15 sheets. They then read the pre-printed list of numbers, and you hope for the best. When they call your number you pick what area you want and that spot is marked off. The better spots (the one's with the blinds) are reserved for parties of 2 or more. If you are a single hunter and want one of the areas reserved for 2 or more, you can pass when your number is called until everyone else has picked and, if one is left over, you can take it. But, if there is more than 10 parties, there's a pretty good chance that those spots wont last long. Once you have picked your spot, you make your way out and you are good to go! There are two hunts. One in the morning from opening shot until 11a.m. and then another that starts at 1p.m. (once again, don't quote me, but I think that is the time) until last shot. You have to enter a lotto for the afternoon hunt just like the morning hunt, but there is usually not as many people at the second hunt.
Once you are done with your morning hunt, you have a few hours to kill. The local towns of Unionville and Sebewaing have some excellent diners and shops. Don's Sport Shop is a great place to check out. It's a little "mom and pops" sporting goods store with some very interesting items and more information about the local hunting and fishing then you could learn in a lifetime.
Now, of the places there that I have hunted, my favorites would be over the potholes and the dry field. The dry corn field, also called the "scatter zone", is not a popular place to set up, but I have had some good luck there on the windy days. In the beginning of the season, the birds there are pretty uneducated. But once the season hits full swing, they learn pretty quick. It's amazing to watch these birds come off the bay and the second they cross the shore line, they jump right up above 350 yards and higher. They keep their height until the get over the refuge and then they perform a maneuver that still makes my jaw drop. They go into what is almost like a death spiral and drop strait down into their haven. It's just amazing to watch that many birds flying at once.
So, if you want to try waterfowling in one of Michigan's premiere hunting locations, give Fish Point a try. It will be well worth the trip.
Fish Point contains more than 3,000 acres of flat farm fields, diked floodings, and coastal wetlands and prairies. Biologists manage the water levels and vegetation for the benefit of waterfowl and other animals that rely on wetland habitats for survival. And with the tremendous variety and abundance of waterfowl found here, the Fish Point area has been called the “Chesapeake of the Midwest”. While there is plenty of excellent hunting in this area, part of the state game area is a wildlife refuge and is off-limits to the public year-round. Unless, that is, if you volunteer for the Fish Point volunteer work weekend. Those that participate in this maintenance and upkeep event get a tour through the sanctuary, something most everyone else in the general public will never see. They have an observation tower and wildlife viewing trail to enjoy the wildlife when you are not hunting. There are also a few private lodges for those that would like a more guided experience. The lodges offer the basic from just a blind to hunt out of to fully guided hunts which include your decoys set, a dog and even lunch brought out to you in the blind.
Now, if you want to hunt the state game area, you have to be there bright and early. The huntable property is divided up into hunting zones. There are areas of corn, flooded corn, field, and little ponds and marshes. A few of these sites have blinds set up, but for the most part you are on your own. But, to get any of these, you must enter the lotto. When you first arrive, you are assigned the number in the order you came in, i.e. if you are the first person to walk into the building that morning, your number would be 1. If you are the second person, you would be number 2, and so on. Then, at 5:30a.m. (don't quote me on that, but I'm pretty sure that's that time) they pick a sheet of numbers randomly from a stack of about 15 sheets. They then read the pre-printed list of numbers, and you hope for the best. When they call your number you pick what area you want and that spot is marked off. The better spots (the one's with the blinds) are reserved for parties of 2 or more. If you are a single hunter and want one of the areas reserved for 2 or more, you can pass when your number is called until everyone else has picked and, if one is left over, you can take it. But, if there is more than 10 parties, there's a pretty good chance that those spots wont last long. Once you have picked your spot, you make your way out and you are good to go! There are two hunts. One in the morning from opening shot until 11a.m. and then another that starts at 1p.m. (once again, don't quote me, but I think that is the time) until last shot. You have to enter a lotto for the afternoon hunt just like the morning hunt, but there is usually not as many people at the second hunt.
Once you are done with your morning hunt, you have a few hours to kill. The local towns of Unionville and Sebewaing have some excellent diners and shops. Don's Sport Shop is a great place to check out. It's a little "mom and pops" sporting goods store with some very interesting items and more information about the local hunting and fishing then you could learn in a lifetime.
Now, of the places there that I have hunted, my favorites would be over the potholes and the dry field. The dry corn field, also called the "scatter zone", is not a popular place to set up, but I have had some good luck there on the windy days. In the beginning of the season, the birds there are pretty uneducated. But once the season hits full swing, they learn pretty quick. It's amazing to watch these birds come off the bay and the second they cross the shore line, they jump right up above 350 yards and higher. They keep their height until the get over the refuge and then they perform a maneuver that still makes my jaw drop. They go into what is almost like a death spiral and drop strait down into their haven. It's just amazing to watch that many birds flying at once.
So, if you want to try waterfowling in one of Michigan's premiere hunting locations, give Fish Point a try. It will be well worth the trip.
Just a glimpse of some of what you will see up at Fish Point. This picture was taken right at last shot
First two mallards I took from Fish Point Last year.
Here is a link to Fish Point's page on the Michigan DNR's website
Trashing the Outdoors
Not to far from where I live is one of my favorite squirrel hunting spots. This was the spot that I took my first game, and where I spend most of my small game hunting time, so this place is special to me. It is my peaceful refuge. My little chunk of paradise. And I'm sure there are others that feel the same way. Which is why it is so hard for me to stomach what I see every time I go out there. Garbage. And lots of it. It's everywhere I look. The amount of land that we have to pursue our sport on can be few and far between. Why would some people be so careless to destroy it? It doesn't take much to take your trash out with you. I am a smoker (I know, I'm hoping to quit soon) and one of the things I do is I make sure that I have a small baggy or empty cigarette pack that I can put my butts into. The same goes for the wrappers from my snacks or beverage bottles I bring in. If it comes in with me, it will surely make it out with me.
One of my favorite spots to go in my little haven is a small pond about a quarter mile back in. And next to the pond there is a rope swing hung. It's an obvious teen hangout spot. And if there is one, there are 20 or so broken beer bottles along the side of the hill. So, one might say it's the kids doing it. But walk up that same trail and you'll find a couple different ground blinds with a circle of trash around where a hunter once sat. And it's easy to say "it's not me". But, when you see this destruction, what do you do about it? Do you pick up what you can while on your trek or on your way out? It's not a mess that you made, but I believe it is all of our responsibility to help keep our woods, fields, streams, and lakes as clean as we can.
One of my favorite spots to go in my little haven is a small pond about a quarter mile back in. And next to the pond there is a rope swing hung. It's an obvious teen hangout spot. And if there is one, there are 20 or so broken beer bottles along the side of the hill. So, one might say it's the kids doing it. But walk up that same trail and you'll find a couple different ground blinds with a circle of trash around where a hunter once sat. And it's easy to say "it's not me". But, when you see this destruction, what do you do about it? Do you pick up what you can while on your trek or on your way out? It's not a mess that you made, but I believe it is all of our responsibility to help keep our woods, fields, streams, and lakes as clean as we can.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Ice Fishing at Houghton Lake
Last winter, a group of friends and I decided to take a fishing trip up to Houghton Lake, Michigan's largest inland lake covering 22,000 acres. But this wasn't going to be a run of the mill ice fishing trip. We were going to ice fish for 3 days and camp out on the ice. And that we did!
We rented a "sleeper shanty" from one of the local bait shops, Lyman's on the Lake. Now, when I say shanty, that's exactly what it was. No frills. It was an approximately 6' by 14' box with a wooden bunk bed, a few Plexiglas windows, a door and six holes cut in the floor. But that was all we needed. At only $75 per night (7a.m. to 7a.m.), it was more than worth it since we could fish all night if we wanted to. Now, I will say this; it's not for everyone. We started out with 5 guys the morning we arrived. By noon the next day, it was down to myself and my friend Jeremy. The other three opted to rent a cabin.
We rented a "sleeper shanty" from one of the local bait shops, Lyman's on the Lake. Now, when I say shanty, that's exactly what it was. No frills. It was an approximately 6' by 14' box with a wooden bunk bed, a few Plexiglas windows, a door and six holes cut in the floor. But that was all we needed. At only $75 per night (7a.m. to 7a.m.), it was more than worth it since we could fish all night if we wanted to. Now, I will say this; it's not for everyone. We started out with 5 guys the morning we arrived. By noon the next day, it was down to myself and my friend Jeremy. The other three opted to rent a cabin.
The shanty came with a 20lb tank of propane and a heater per night, and that thing kicked out some heat. I, being on the top bunk (where all the heat rose to), was as toasty as could be all night. Those that slept on the bottom bunk and the air mattress were fine right in the middle of the heat. My brother in law, Vince, was not so lucky. He drew the short straw and had to sleep on the opposite side of the shanty as the rest of us and got to sleep on the floor with only a blanket. Now, remember that the temperature at night was getting down to about 5 degrees Fahrenheit and we were sleeping above the ice. When he woke up in the morning, he was frozen...literally. The only thing we could figure was that there had been condensation from the heat towards the ceiling and ran down the wall and onto him. Over the course of the night, as the temperature dropped, his clothes and blanket froze to the floor! Needless to say, he was one of the one's to check out the next morning. It was a fun filled weekend, for sure! But, now, onto the fishing!
The fist morning we were there mainly involved us setting up, and the rest of the day was pretty slow going. We were mainly jigging for walleye, with a few tip-ups set around the shanty for any wandering northern pike that might have happened by. It wasn't until later that weekend that we found out we were in a location on the lake that the locals called "pike alley". That's a key tip; always ask the locals, because they usually know the terrain pretty well. And did they ever! When night started to creep up, the flags started popin'! We caught five or six northerns on the tip-ups right before dark, but they were all short by an inch or so. So, after a hearty dinner on the ice, we all moved in to the shanty to unwind and jig for walleye some more. After a few hours of not even a nibble, everyone else had pulled their lines, aside from me. I figured that if I was awake, I was going to be fishing! Around 11p.m., and after a few jokes about my determination to keep fishing, the end of my light action rod started to dip. I waited for a second to see if whatever had found my minnow tipped teardrop jig was going to take it and I felt another tug. I set the hook, then my rod bent to about 80 degrees and the fight was on! Finally! I was gonna bring up a walleye! And this was a good one. After five minutes or so of fighting I saw a shimmer in the water. That's when I noticed the head. This wasn't a walleye, but a giant northern pike! As I brought him up towards the hole, I heard my brother in law shout "Oh my God! I can see the tail!" as he pointed to the hole two holes down from mine! By this time, I was in disbelief. There was no way I was going to get this thing up. I was using a regular light action rod with 6lb test line and no leader. But, I tried still, and every time I attempted to bring him up, he opened his jaws and wouldn't you know, it was bigger than the 12 inch hole we had drilled! Finally, I pulled up at just the right time and slipped his opening jaws past the edge of the ice and Jeremy reached down and started to pull him out. By this time, there was no room left for blood in my veins. It was pure adrenaline coursing through me. And as he kept pulling that fish out of the hole, it just got better. It seemed like the fish never stopped. This was a trophy. As we exited the shanty with my prize, I picked him up and and just let loose. I probably sounded like a kid at Christmas the way I was yelling. Not only for the fish I had just caught, but for the fact of how I caught him. We took our pictures and said "that was awesome!!" over and over and admired the catch. We laid him next t
o the shanty and waited until morning to take him up to the bait shop and get the official measurement and weight to be entered in the weekly contest (I came in second, but that was fine with me!). The final tale of the tape was 37.5 inches and 11lbs 15oz.
The next morning (after we found Vince frozen to the floor) we set out our tip-ups and went at it again. The next two days were a blur of flags going up and rods bending. We caught somewhere around 45 northern pike, and only one was over the legal limit! But it was fun all the same. We had a couple of nice chats with one of the local Conservation Officers about the lake, the fishing, and a few tales he had for us. Top it off with a little horse play on the four wheelers in a foot of snow, and it made for a weekend I will never forget. I am already planning for our next trip up this year, and I think it will be even better. If you are ever in the Houghton Lake area and get a chance to do some ice fishing, take it. And if you want to try something a little different, try camping out! I guarantee you'll have a blast!
My father in law with one of the many caught inside the shanty on regular ice fishing rods. Behind him, you can see the bunks we had to sleep on.
Jeremy "admiring" his catch .
If you are interested in finding out more about fishing Houghton lake or about renting a shanty, contact Lyman's on the Lake. Tell them that Chuck from the Up North Journal sent ya!
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