I stayed true to my commitment  #49

I have always enjoyed hunting. It has been a part of my makeup for as long as I can remember. Throughout my lifetime, the wildlife has been plentiful enough for me to have had a number of good productive hunts. I recognize that there are years when I just don’t succeed in my attempts to get a deer, but just being in the woods is as enjoyable as shooting that big buck. Now, it is of course, much better when that does occur.

Northern Maine has had a number of issues with keeping the white tail deer population up to acceptable standards. That included the two years where the heavy snowfall sharply cut the number of deer in the herd. Snowfall of over 200 inches for the year, without a doubt, causes a host of problems for the deer who are already hampered by other problems, all of which are outside of their control. Then there are years where the climate allows them to make a comeback and the season looks as though it is going to be good again.

Unfortunately, snowfall is outside of my or anyone else’s control. But there is another thing that we can control. One that has, in my mind, increased the rate at which the deer herd is dying.  I am speaking about the “coyote”. Now many will try to tell you that the animal is not the cause in the reduction of the herd. Some have stories about snowmobiling into a deer yard and seeing the dead deer carcasses strewn along the way. They report that coyotes are the culprit. Some will say that it is the ecosystem and how it should be. They also say that we should not interfere with the delicacy of that system, and TC and I firmly agree that balance is the key to keeping the natural world in check. However, all I know is that I decided a long time ago, that I believed coyotes were a threat to the deer population and I for one was going to take action if I had the chance.  I made a pact with myself that if I saw a coyote chasing a big buck, I would shoot the coyote. Now, I had never had the opportunity to test this, but I maintained that was what I would do.

So, let’s fast forward to November 16, 2013. I was on one of my hunting excursions in the North Maine Woods. I had scouted this area for some time and had seen a number of very fresh deer tracks even as recently as that morning. The area I was hunting had been cut a number of years ago and replanted with nice spruce trees. The trees had grown to about 3 feet high which made that area a prime location for deer.  I had found a nice spot to sit on a plateau that overlooked the entire cut. From that vantage point, I could see anything that moved for a long distance. I had made it a practice to walk through the cut to this location as early as I could and to sit and not move for long periods of time. On this particular day, I was there early and in place just after the sun came up. As was my custom, I had my doe bleat can out and ready as well as my buck call. I was working the bleat pretty hard that morning, giving it a shot a couple of times and then waiting for about 10 minutes and repeating the same. About forty minutes had passed and I had just completed my most recent cycle of the doe bleat when I looked out, and there about 55 yards away straight in front of me standing on a rise was a dastardly coyote. It was clear that that animal had heard my doe bleats and had come to see what was going on. As I watched it, the coyote was looking in my direction and looking to the left and right of me to see where that deer was. For some reason, maybe because I am such a master of invisibility, it did not see me. It was at that very minute that I had a decision to make. Should I raise my gun and take a shot at the coyote knowing that if I did, I would probably  end any chance I had at shooting a deer in that area? Or, would I remain true to my commitment that if I saw one, I would shoot it. In this particular case, only half of the commitment was true. There was a coyote in my hunting ground but it was not chasing a deer. It was clear however that it was here because it thought it heard a deer calling. I decided to pull my rifle up very slowly and take a look at it through the scope. It was facing me so there was not a lot of area to shoot at. I scoped it, put the rifle down and thought about losing the area if I made the shot. I pulled the gun back up and scoped it again. All the while, this animal did not move. Finally, the pact I made with myself won over and I pulled the gun up, put the dog in my sights, snapped off the safety and squeezed the trigger. The small profile of the animal helped it because I missed. I knew I missed because I saw the ground kick up just to the left of the animal. As I dropped the gun, I notice that the coyote turned to its right and hightailed out of there on a dead run. I had never seen an animal move so fast. In no time it was running through the three foot trees and was gone out of sight. As any good hunter would do, and knowing that I had contaminated my hunting area when I made that shot, I got up and walked over to where the coyote had been standing just to make sure I had not hit the animal. I was certain that dog was in the next time zone at that very minute. As I was walking out to my truck to relocate somewhere else, I replayed the scenario in my mind over and over. Should I have shot? Should I have not? And I came back to the same result. I had done what I had said I would do and I was proud of myself. In my mind, the coyote was a predator to our deer population and I wanted to give the deer that little fighting edge. Unfortunately, I did little to help, however I had tried and that was, for me, a win. Would I do it over? Heck, yes.

TC, the boys are coming!  #48

Looking back on the years, TC and I have been blessed to have two boys. Our goal was to hopefully give them all the tools they needed to be successful when the time came to leave the nest.  That included the tools to understand the woods and how to treat the animals that live there. I always taught them to only take what they needed and to abide by all the rules and laws that governed hunting and fishing.  We spent time fishing and learning how to handle a canoe. We spent time hunting and how important it was to make sure to respect the gun and others when hunting. We watched them grow up and we were very proud of them. So when the time came for them to start their own life, there was a void that was left by their departure. As parents, you are always aware that the time will come when they move on, but you just don’t plan for that time to come so quickly.

So, when they call and tell you that they both have some time off from work and want to come visit, you drop what you are doing, and prepare for their arrival. Now, the plan was for them to fly in and spend a couple of days in the woods hunting partridge. The scouting report on birds was up and down and by that I mean some were seeing them and some were not. No matter, the time spent with family is good enough, but getting to see some birds and having them shoot them was just the cream on top of the cake so to speak.

We set out that Friday morning, destination, Ashland and some old tote roads that I had been on a week before. At that time, I had seen a few birds and was in hopes that they might still show up. Before we got to the gate, we made a decision to instead travel down the Pinkham Rd toward Portage and hunt on some roads that branch off. It wasn’t long after taking one road which looked really good that we spotted our first bird. Like clockwork, the boys jumped out and went into hunting mode. With shotguns drawn, they stocked that bird and down it went.  We continued to ride that road, which appeared to go on and on. Eventually, we turned and headed back to try another one. Before we got to the Pinkham Rd, we decided to stop and cook some lunch. One of the highlights of our trip has been to cook a hot meal on the Coleman stove we have had for years. As we were pulling into the area we picked to have lunch, Ryan got out of the truck and started to walk back to the woods. It wasn’t long before he started yelling, Bird! Bird! And there it was trying to walk up the bank behind us. Like precision warriors, they both got their shotguns out and after that bird they went. In very quick order, they aimed, fired and down went the partridge. Now we had two. We finished lunch and drove a few more roads, but didn’t get any more birds. During our ride, Ryan yelled out, “there’s a really big moose!” Off in the cutting, was an enormous moose with a wide rack looking at us. We got out, took some photos and all of a sudden, the moose wandered off not really concerned that we were there. When we got home, we fried up the meat and had them as appetizers. TC and I held back so both Andrew and Ryan could have their fill, which they did. We laid out our plans for the next day and off to bed we went.

Saturday came, and we headed back to the North Maine Woods. Again, we had food for a hot meal and the trusty old Coleman stove. We spend pretty much all morning riding the roads and as we stopped for lunch, had not shot a bird. Now to give you some idea of what was on the menu? Saturday was tacos. TC had prepared everything the night before and all we needed to do was start up the stove and heat up the meat and the shells. If you have not had a hot meal in the woods, I can tell you that no matter what you bring, it will seem like it tastes better than if you had the same thing at home, and this was no exception. At the end, we had eaten just about everything and then moved on to the treats TC had made just before the boys got home. We put in some miles that day, and although we saw some partridge, we did not get any. As I was driving home, I noticed that both Andrew and Ryan had their eyes closed which reminded me of times past  when we would go in the woods and by the end of the day, they were just plain tuckered out. That to me was proof that they had had a good time.

Sunday came, and we knew that their plane was leaving and it would take them back to their homes and our home would once again be quiet. TC and I had so much anticipation and joy at knowing they were coming, but the time had flown by. As we took them to the airport, and they checked in, and we said our goodbyes, sadness gripped me and on the ride home I could tell that TC hated to see them go, because she was so quiet. But, we had had some quality time with our boys, and they had gone back to their roots which included their love for the outdoors. I guess there is some truth to the phrase, “You can take the boy away from his roots, but you can’t take the roots out of the boy. For TC and I, we just hope that they continue to enjoy all that the woods has to offer and to practice everything they have been taught. Watching them while they were here, I have no doubt that they have never forgotten that and practice it every day. That is just part of what makes a parent proud.