The Hunt

As the new hunting season has emerged, I am thrilled for many reasons.   Exploring the nook and crannies of the woods never gets old.  Autumn brought many new adventures.  See what I mean as I travel back to memories in northern lower Michigan:  (NOTE:  This time frame reflects fall of 2015...when I was still hunting (and trapping).  I'm now a "watcher" instead of a "warrior".)  

...As I opened the door of the cramped cabin to leave, I looked around.  I was leaving it in good stead.  Venison chili simmered hot on the working wood stove, our aging cattle dog, Zip, sighed and gave a look of resignation as I hoisted the crossbow, closed the door and headed out onto the carpet of leaves that would be my path.  Autumn had arrived.  And with it began my quest for our winter meat.

I curved around the back of the cabin, skirting the silhouetting trees that lined the dog yard.  No sled dogs murmured or whined, as they have become accustomed to my daily solo trek. 

I stopped at the same spot where the previous week I had surprised a coyote.  The other morning, as I headed out to do the morning check of our trap line, I walked through a dense area and came out into a clearing overlooking a vista.  I always stop in this particular spot to peruse the land, looking for anything out of place, or perhaps to catch a glimpse of a critter traveling through.  As I was looking, a massive coyote climbed up out of a hollow in front of me.  He also stood, looking about, scanning the perimeter.  As his head was on swivel to the left, he spotted me out of the corner of his eye and jolted with the knowledge.  Upon confirming me standing there, he shot off and sped across the land, making a wide arch, actually returning to our property, in particular the area of our sled dog kennel.  I only had my side arm on me that day.  But this opportunity also gave me time to admire his thick coat, and compare it to several of our thick coated Siberians, which reside in the dog yard.  Coy-dog perhaps?  He was no typical coyote.  Today, however, no coyote in sight.

Although the Barnett crossbow was a heavy tote, I opted to take the long route back to my “blind”.  Rain was spitting, but the threat didn’t appear to be long-suffering.  I had my “hot seat” looped on my belt, so I knew I’d have a dry seat upon arrival.  No worries.

Hearing geese overhead brought a smile.  I stopped to watch.  Today it was two gaggles, flying side by side.  Soon, a couple geese broke off from their original flight and joined a gaggle that split off and headed southwest.  Who knows why.  Perhaps they knew of a good landing zone the others who continued south didn’t appreciate. 

I put the crossbow on my shoulder and trudged on. 

The woods always change…from morning to night, and every hour in between.  The lighting makes the woods a new adventure each time I enter.  Using the sled dog trails from years past, I have a well-traveled path.  Deer and coyote tracks dominate.  As I carefully monitor each step, I feel so blessed.  I am thankful for Russ, who appreciates my love of being in the woods.  Night after night of me coming home in the dark makes for an abnormal dinner hour, but we both embrace this time of year and the opportunities it offers. 

As I walk on, a ruffed grouse whistles, alerting me to the fact that wings will soon explode in flight, creating a startled noise in the quiet of the woods.  Many times, my heart would beat madly when these birds caught me unaware. 

I think back to earlier this August, when checking the trap line was always met with a spider web forming upon my face when going through brush.  So many spider webs I’ve sported this year.  I would always smile when I saw “widow leaves” – those leaves that appear to be dancing on air – spooky – until you realize they are being held by a spider web. 

I finally arrive at my “chair”.  It’s a chair in the woods.  A wooden, hand carved swivel chair, made by Russ.  I had him pull it out of one of our cabins, making a perfect site for me, sitting under a huge beech tree, at the massive base.  We built up the perimeter a bit, and the deer have no problem appearing in the clearing as I sit in the chair. 

As I snuggled in for the long haul, I took inventory of my surroundings.  Many pro hunters don’t factor in wind.  I do. 

Many do factor in scent.  As for me, I have a theory about scent control.  I control it by putting my scent out year ‘round.  Every kernel of the non-GMO corn I feed has run through my hands, putting my scent on feed.  They know me.  They associate me with feed.  I recall hearing about Iditarod Champion, Susan Butcher, feeding her Alaskan pups this way, smooshing her hands into the meaty mixture to get her scent mixed in.  Whatever you do with regard to scent – be consistent. 

I also hunt without any fuss.  I know folks who bring coffee and eats to a blind.  Coffee leads to elimination.  Another issue.  All bring unwanted scent. 

As for cell phones and such.  No.  Never.  If I were to bring anything, it would be a book.  But I can’t even imagine doing that.  I go to the woods to hear and see the sounds that are ever changing.  I delight in the change of noise…the woods are never silent.  Especially if you sit under a beech tree in the fall.  The woods has so much to teach us. 

One last thing.  Look up.  Cougars are here.  You just never know when one might be in your neck of the woods. 

This year, there were less skeeters. 

This fall, in September during the “early Anterless hunt”, I was unsuccessful.  However, I did enjoy an encounter with a young porky as I was heading in for the night.  He was in the lane, nibbling on a dried out clover, unaffected by my moving toward him.  Only when I spoke to him and neared did he turn his back to me and puff up.  He seemed to resent the intrusion and finally toddled off into the woods.  Although I had two firearms at my ready, I let him go, hoping I wouldn’t regret the decision come dog training on the trails. 

Enjoy the woods, and the one who made it.  Mother Nature?  No, Father God.  Another good reason to look up…for Jesus said:

“Surely I am coming quickly”.

Side bar:  Yes, many changes in the last 3 years.  Life never stays dormant.  One big one is submitting to the teachings of Jesus.  More to come on what that looks like.  For both myself and Russ.  

Until tomorrow, Lord willing.  Hope to see you here.

Sherry

The Watcher...Part Two

 Yes, watching is what I do.

Today was humorous, 

as two little button bucks sparred.  

A sign of things to come.

One of the two tried nursing from Mama.  

She wasn't thrilled with that idea. 

The kitchen is closed, as they say.

Instead, she taught them some bad habits.

While the Blue Jays and Chickadees looked on.

And finally, this big guy lumbered in.

I hope he stays safe when rifle season opens in two days.  

If he stays where I am, he'll be just fine.

Until tomorrow, Lord willing.  Hope to see you then.

Sherry

From Warrior to Watcher

I used to look forward to this time of year.  

The first big snow...right before Opening Day.

The hunt...

And now I just watch.  

And they watch me.

This past summer, they became friendly.

And crept close...

Always around...

And they became my buddies...

Yes, my hunting days are over.  

And I look forward to the future.

Until tomorrow, Lord willing.  Hope to see you here.

Sherry

How we Shelter in Place

The frigid November wind is whipping around our tiny cabin as I settle in on my desktop ‘puter.  It’s ironic how it takes up a huge space in the middle of our 15 x 20 cabin, only to be used as a word processor, with no link to the outside world.  Even though we don’t have Internet, I hear my fingers dance over the keyboard, as thoughts spring forth.  And that feels like I’m connecting. 

Another perk - my backside is sufficiently warmed by the woodstove that sits in the southwest corner, a mere few feet away.  On top sits a 14-cup Wenzel percolator.  A coffee pot, kept warm throughout the day for immediate consumption by any and all.  I poured a cup before sitting down, hoping the warmth would ward off the chill I get from viewing the snowy display outside our front window. 

Speaking of coffee, I just began drinking java this autumn.  It was the weekend of the early doe hunt.  I had been out in the woods for hours, coming home cold and wet from freezing drizzle assaulting my face.  Upon entering our cabin, and smelling fresh brewed hot coffee, I decided right then and there, it was time to start drinking the caramel-colored water.  I have been on this earth for nearly 6 decades and now was the time.  Two months later, and I’m hooked.  However, I doctor it with my Amish-gifted organic sugar, and French Vanilla creamer.  As for that early hunt.  No doe taken, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.  No shot fired, but watched one walk away.  Now that we are into rifle season, I’m not seeing any, other than tracks, although I head out morning and evening on most days, spending hours walking and watching in our 40-acre woods. 

While stump sitting last weekend on opening day, I had to smile.  I spend quite a bit of time in our woods, year ‘round.  Therefore, “our” crows are on to me.  They like me, as I like them.  They don’t “rat me out” when I enter the woodlot.  While sitting the other evening at dusk I could hear crows in the area “ratting out” hunters.  At least that is what I figured all the fuss was about, hearing and seeing them all fly miles away.

I suppose I’m not your typical deer hunter.  I grab my 30-30 and head out.  Wearing orange, of course.  (Bought an awesome orange hat at the local Resale last week for a quarter.)  But I don’t sit in a “blind”.  I actually sold 2 Porta-potty poly outhouses this fall during the early hunt to a couple fellas {from downstate} who were going to make them into deer blinds.  As for me, I like to perch myself on a stump.  The other morning I did think to take my “hot seat” for padding, and was glad I did.  (Did I mention I hunt wearing a skirt?  Actually, my Amish-made skirt is a true gift.  Warm and thick.)

As opening day approached, I actually became hesitant about taking a deer.  We had just processed our 500+ pound hog and our freezer is busting out with pork cuts.  But thanks to a seasoned hunter friend (AC Ellen), I was reminded of venison burger, and such.  And the fact the Good Lord told us we are to use the animals for our needs.

We had a good butcher day with our gilt-never-turned-sow hog.  We work in tandem with a  farm friend couple - the guys cut the meat up, with us gals using our Food Saver machines and bags.  When we get to the sausage, we are in the home stretch.  We use AC Leggs seasoning and I truly have tasted none better.  We stop for lunch on butcher days.  This time, it was a venison stew (complete with Morel mushrooms) made by our friends, along with my homemade apple cake (made fresh that morning) for dessert.  By evening, we drive the couple miles home, tired out (but a good tired) knowing we will be eating good over the winter.  The second half of our breeding pair, which never did produce, will be next.  He will be mostly sausage.  (NOTE:  The hams on this girl weighed 35+#’s…huge!) 

Speaking of hogs.  Check out the video outlining the feral swine situation here in Michigan.  I've written about Baker's Green Acres before HERE...having traveled to sit in the courtroom and see it first hand.  This is a preview of the movie yet to come:  {Warning...Not for the lighthearted...}

“Nuff catching up for now.   Please check out Baker's Green Acres videos and website.  They need everyone's support.

In the meantime, if you wish to see what it is going on in our neck of the woods, go to SNOWMAN CAM and see.  Click HERE.  Our good friend, Blueberry Becky, lives just a crow’s fly from this cam and it has recorded “her bear” and other critters for your perusal.

Until next time, Lord willing…if the Lord tarries.

Sherry

  

As the Deer Panteth

Deer season (rifle) in Michigan came to a close the last day of November.

Deer season to us, doesn't mean going out on our property and bagging a big one.

Our trail cam this fall, on our back 40.

Rather, it means a window period of time,
where we can procure meat for our sled dogs to last the entire winter.

It actually begins with bow season,
 crescendos with the rifle season,
and flows into the first days of December,
after all the deer have been processed.

For years, we have been obtaining our venison scraps from two local sources.
This year, we added a third.
An Amish source.

It was wonderful meeting and growing a friendship with the butcher shop owner,
along with all the family and Amish neighbors within.

I spent many, many days traveling to get meat.
The work is tough at times, hauling and hoisting heavy bags into the back of the truck,
but brings such a sense of satisfaction upon arriving home with the truck laden with the raw,
red, juicy scraps and bones.
Sometimes we even had pork, beef, lamb, moose, etc.
We were so blessed, we were fortunate to share with other mushers too.

 Sometimes the trips could be downright adventurous.
Thanksgiving day, I had an idea.

I ended up going north, to my home town,
for a fancy restaurant dinner with my small family.  

 It was very nice…at the Perry Hotel across from Lake Michigan.     

Before I went to Petoskey, 

I thought I would be smart and combine my dinner, 

with a pick up of meat.   

So I set it up to pick up deer meat (venison) for the sled dogs, 

with the place that we get it from every year. 

So, after the day was done…which was an awesome dinner, 

visiting with our small family at my mother’s beautiful home, 

 I left for Mancelona, planning to stop for meat on the way. 

I arrived at the spot when it was pitch dark.  

 I pulled into the back of the store.  I was told the meat would be in bags (which always seem to rip) in a trailer.  I thought I would be there in the daylight so I didn’t bring a light.  So I did the next best thing…I shined the truck lights on the trailer and then had to lift the bags out, and then go around the back of the truck (in the dark) and sling the bags into the bed of the truck.  Heavy bags.  Our tailgate doesn’t go down any more so you REALLY have to sling the meat up high and then let it fall in the truck.  Well, this stuff was heavy, and even though I was wearing work gloves (I did remember those…) I was getting blood all over my fancy jacket I wore to dinner.  It was soaked in blood on the arms.  And then a couple bags later, I got it on my pants.  And then my boots.  You just can’t help it, because the bags are all on top of each other, mixed in with the deer carcass.  If you are not a person who is used to this type of stuff, it might be difficult.  But I don’t care.  I didn’t even mind it being on my jacket, because it blended in….   

I did this a couple times, and then I turned off the truck, but left the lights on.   

BIG MISTAKE…

Once done, I got in the truck, went to turn it on and NOTHING.   

Just a clicking noise.  Rats!   

So here I am, blood on my jacket, pants and boots.   

I didn’t have a cell phone because...I don't like cell phones…and don’t usually carry one.  

 So I realized I would be taking a walk to find someone to help me.  

 I walked around the front of the store, by the road and saw nothing.   

The little lakeside village was very quiet.
And dark.

 I knew I would have to walk a little distance and knock on someone’s door 

and interrupt them.   

Possibly interrupt them from their Thanksgiving dinner!!

So I went into my 911 mode.   

I went back to the truck, bowed my head, and prayed:

Dear Heavenly Father.  

 I realize this may be what you want me to do tonight.   

There may be someone in one of those houses that you want me to meet tonight.   

So if it is your will, I will go out into the dark, and knock on a door.   

But if not, please help me to get home with my vehicle, and let it start once again.   

In Jesus name we pray…Amen.

Amazing…I didn’t even get the Amen out of my mouth (yes, I prayed out loud).   

And I saw lights from a larger-sized truck swing into the store parking lot and come up right behind my truck.  I didn’t know who it was (by seeing) but I knew who it was (by instinct).   

It was my younger brother, Craig!!   

He just SHOWED UP.   

It was truly a miracle!   

I had mentioned at dinner, many hours before, 

that I was going to be stopping near his house to get meat at the lakeside General Store.   

And he picked THAT time, right when I prayed, to show up!!  God is good!

I ended up jumping in with Craig, and their little Cocker Spaniel, Lola, 

and went back to his house to get the jumper cables, 

and return to the store to start my truck.  

 It started right up, I thanked Craig 

(and more importantly God, for answering my prayer) 

and I was on my way home. 

So I don’t know who had the better Thanksgiving…

Russ... who had stayed home and played Santa at a local family gathering?   

Or me, who was covered in blood (there's POWER in the blood...), 

willing to walk a distance and knock on a door, 

only to have a miracle happen instead. 

That was a good segue into the end of this year's meat runs.
As it was, I had one more trip to eek out, for the final haul, when our truck died. 
See previous post, click here.

But all in all, the timing was actually perfect for us, as our Russ-Stick plan of
horse and dog power comes into effect. 

And it is time to slow down...and stop, reflect and thank God from whom all blessings flow.

Please turn off soothing music to your right to hear this beautiful hymn...

As the Deer Panteth.

Until tomorrow dear friends, God willing.