Wild Food Crops

Wild Food Crops

My initial take on the wild food crops looks like this. EVERYTHING is running late this year. You name it and it is true.

Apple Crop

Slightly more than half the trees have apples. The trees that have them have a lot of them. Those trees that have a good crop are also producing small apples.

J.E. Apple Tree With Blossoms in 2015

J.E. Apple Tree With Blossoms in 2015

Most of the apples are now smaller than a quarter in size. What’s my guess as to why that is? This spring’s heavy rains took down many blossoms on some trees, but late blooming trees benefited from those rains. The trees that produced fruit produced so many that it is limiting the size. Many orchards actually pull off excess apples to enable the trees to produce bigger fruit.

Another two or three weeks will tell us much more about the size of the crop and the fruit.

Acorn and Beechnut Crops

It’s too early to draw any conclusions about the acorn and beechnut crops. I have seen both very small and some larger acorns along with some trees that have no crop at all. Again, mid-August will be a better time to assess things.

Berry Crop

The good news for the bears in particular is that the blueberry crop is both big and late. The rains have made the berries big but ripening late by (you guessed it) about two weeks. The field at J.E. is loaded with low-bush blueberries. Wild red raspberries are also in great supply now.

That did not stop a bear (or bears) from hitting John’s feeders again last night, which he forgot to bring in. Which makes me renew my question: Did they smell the seeds, or do they check his yard every night in hopes of finding food? I think it is the former. Although birdseed does not have a very strong scent, it certainly is strong enough for them to smell it from great distances. They ALWAYS show up the night that you forget to bring in the feeders.

The rains produced a bumper crop of many kinds, including bulb plants, like iris that bears also love. Remember my video of them eating iris at the swamp?

I have not come across much mountain ash yet to assess that crop.

The highbush cranberries appear to be having a good year as well.

WLAGS

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Unbearable

Unbearable

The last thing Debbie said to me as I left this morning was “Don’t forget your pistol. The last thing I need is you running into a bear.” Thirty minutes later, just 60 feet from my Buck Hump camera, I was looking at one of the biggest bears I had ever seen, and there wasn’t 40 feet between us.

I was very conscious of the fact that my walk in was very quiet and that a good breeze was blowing in my face.

My trail to Buck Hump is a mix of very thick young spruce–which I have tunneled through–and small, low-bush blueberry openings.

I was coming out of the spruce, and just as I was about to put a step out into a blueberry opening, I noticed an antler sized dead spruce branch under foot. I purposely stepped on it to make a snapping sound to alert any animals in the proximity of my presence. What a great move!

One more step, and I was in the open. There, directly ahead of me, standing upright and looking directly at me, was this very large bear. No doubt he heard the snap and stood to see what caused it.

Black Bear Standing

Black Bear Standing

I don’t know who was more stunned. We stared at each other for what seemed minutes, but I’m sure it was seconds, before I said “What’s up?” Thankfully he whirled and headed back up my trail.

I can’t imagine what might have transpired if I had not broken that stick. I’m sure that the two of us would have continued walking towards each other, and no doubt we both would have been even more startled.

As it turned out, when he whirled, it did nothing to diminish my initial thoughts of his (thankfully a him) size. He was very wide to say the least, barley fitting in between the spruces on the trail.

I looked at him long enough while we were staring at each other that I was able to estimate that his beautiful, light rust-colored muzzle was about 8 or 9 inches long and 3 or 4 inches wide. His head was much bigger than a basketball hoop. His hair glistened in the sunlight. He was a picture perfect example of his species. He wasn’t unlike the one I caught on the Seven-Point Swamp Stand camera last November.

By the way, my pistol was in my backpack. It might as well have been in my truck for all the good it would have done me if things went bad. Life lesson: If you think you might need a gun, then you’d better have it where you can get to it…in a hurry.

Now I knew he had just passed my camera–a matter of feet away–and I was sure that I’d get great videos of him. WRONG! The camera was dead. Three of the eight lithium batteries had died. I’m not sure why. Frustrated, I put a new set of alkaline batteries in–that I almost did not take with me–to get it through until my next visit.

The camera shot dozens of videos. The best were of two young bucks and a young bull.

Still with my adrenaline pumping, I rushed to get to the camera at the cutover. I knew that I was in trouble when the camera was not on the tree. As it turns out, it had been destroyed by a bear. It was several feet from the tree, and both the strap and cable holders were snapped off.

The Back of My Bearized Camera

The Back of My Bearized Camera

The sensor cover had been punctured by teeth.

The Front of My Bearized Camera

The Front of My Bearized Camera

“Well,” I thought. “At least I’ll have the video.” WRONG. That camera was dead too! The lithium batteries let me down again. The camera had been dead for three weeks or so.

Two more interesting things that I observed on the way home:

1) I saw a spot near the cutover that looked like it had been tilled. It was about 8 feet by 12 feet and oval shaped. Maybe if I was not already fuzzy with the day’s happenings, I could have figured it out. It was not turkeys or deer. It was either a bear eating ants or a moose looking for a dust bowl.

2) I found a porcupine skin. This was the work of a fisher cat. They eat the porcupine from the underside after forcing them out onto a small limb. I caught a fisher on the camera near the brook by Stand 1 back in January.

That was 90 minutes that I will not soon forget.

WLAGS

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 4

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 4

As the days start to shorten, and our thoughts turn to the upcoming fall hunting season, our minds turn to successful seasons past. Below is part 4 of my son Tony’s write-up of shooting his first buck on November 13, 2011.

WLAGS

——————

When my alarm went off at 4:30 Sunday morning, I turned it off and laid in bed, deciding. “Do I roll over and sleep in,” I asked myself, “Or do I get up and give it one last go?” “Chi dorme non piglia pesci,” [KEE DORM-ay KNOWN PEEL-ya PAY-shee] I thought. It’s an old Italian expression that literally means, “He who sleeps, catches no fish.” It’s the Italian way of saying “The early bird catches the worm.” I’d like to say that I sprung out of bed, but after four straight days of hoofing it up and down hills and valleys, it was more of a crawl.

I ambled downstairs, wiping the sleep out of my eyes. Dad greeted me in the kitchen. “So what do you think?”

“I think I need to take the bear stand,” I said.

“Sounds good,” Dad said. “You walk in the usual way. I’ll walk in from the end of the road. I’ll give you a 15-minute head start. That way you’ll be settled in the stand before I push through those beeches.”

We followed the plan to the letter, not that it was that difficult. Even in the low light, I was able to follow my dad’s ubiquitous pink tape without much trouble. As designed by Dad, I came up behind the stand from the north side, the opposite way that we would expect a deer to come to the area, especially if my dad pushed it through the beech grove to the south of the stand. Of course, deer never come into your stand the way that you expect them to, but I was wearing rubber boots, which ostensibly don’t carry scent.

I climbed up in the stand, just as those two young bears had done. I brought up the rope that they had pulled down, and I tied it back into place. There hadn’t been a trail camera here since Dad brought his home a few days ago, so we weren’t sure whether those bears had been back. That made me a little nervous.

I was rushing to get to and into the stand to make sure that I was ready to go if Dad pushed a buck by me. In all my haste, I worked up a decent sweat. Once in the stand, I stripped down my upper body, and I hung all my damp clothes on the branches around me to air out.

It was still well before sunup, and I cooled down quickly. I redressed, and prepared to stand vigil for the next few hours.

My View of Sunup That Morning

My View of Sunup That Morning

Normally, in a situation like this, something happens right away or not at all. A couple hours after sunrise, my expectations lowered by the second. I expected to see my dad walking in to my stand within the next half hour, asking me the usual one-word query, “Anything?”

My mind started to wander. My nephew Ian had moved in with us two years prior, and although we had a great start, things weren’t going well at this point. Hunting was supposed to be my way of getting my mind off of all of the issues that my wife and I were having with Ian, but now it was all I could think about. I was running through all of our past confrontations and imaging future ones. As this played out in my head, I grew more and more angry. I was standing in the tree stand now, pretending to be focused on a deer or my dad heading towards me from the south, but I might as well have had my eyes closed. All I could see were the infuriating images playing over and over in my mind.

All of this was interrupted by a cacophony of hooves hitting the ground. For a moment, it sounded like a stampede of caribou. I quickly realized that it was just one animal. My first thought was that it must be a moose to make such a racket. As it came closer, I wasn’t so sure.

The first thing I saw were antlers. “Fork horn,” I thought as I saw four distinct points on its head. Its head was down, when it wasn’t looking back, and its tail was straight out, a sure sign that it was startled but it felt secure that its pursuer didn’t see it.

The scenario was playing out exactly as we had drawn it up in the playbook. I couldn’t believe it. That never happens.

I took off my safety, watched the deer run towards me, and I thought, “I don’t deserve this.” I was feeling guilty for all the angry thoughts I was having about my nephew.

I quickly changed my mind, raised my rifle, and thought, “Yes, I do.” There was just one problem, the deer was moving at more than a trot, and it was quartering towards me to boot. I’m unlikely to take a shot with one of those factors; with the two combined, it’s strictly a “hold your fire” situation for me. I kept my sights on the animal, hoping that it would stop. It didn’t. It ran right past my stand and stopped just a few yards behind the right side of it, from right where I had approached the stand.

It stopped still, completely obscured by all the conifer branches between us. Although I couldn’t see it, I was sure that it was looking back towards Dad to see whether he was on its tail. Instinctively, I grunted twice with my mouth, not having a store-bought grunt call with me. I can thank my friend Matt for teaching me that trick, which he used to shoot a spike horn. Dragging that deer out turned into quite the adventure. But that’s another story.

The buck immediately started to backtrack itself, but it had its head down in my tracks. I guess my rubber boots weren’t so scent-proof after all. It was 40 yards away; well within range of the 50 yards for which I had sighted in my .44 magnum Ruger. The only problem was that it was walking at a quick pace, and it was walking through lots of thin maple saplings.

I glanced ahead of it for an opening, leaned the stock of the .44 against the tree trunk to steady it, and promised myself that I’d squeeze off a round as soon as the deer stepped into that opening. I can’t remember all of the times that this technique didn’t work out. The deer usually stops before the opening and wanders off through the cover of thick brush, never presenting a shot.

Luckily, this time was different. The buck stepped into the opening and stopped, still with its nose in my tracks. As it was moving from my right to my left, I decided to wait until it moved its front left leg forward, fulling exposing its vitals before squeezing the trigger. It did, and I did.

Normally, even with a direct hit to the heart, a deer will run a few yards or make a couple of bounds. Again, this time was different. The deer fell over as though it were frozen solid and someone had pushed it.

I kept the safety off, and I kept aiming for its vitals. I thought, “If it moves a muscle or gets up, I’m going to shoot until it stops moving.” The last thing any hunter wants is an animal to suffer. “Quick and painless” is the mantra. To my surprise, it never flinched a muscle. It lay stone dead after just the one shot.

“Quick and Painless” Is the Mantra

“Quick and Painless” Is the Mantra

I radioed Dad. “You got a drag rope with you?” I actually had a drag rope with me. That’s an inside joke. My friend Matt has, on more than one occasion, including when he grunted in that spike horn, shot a deer and not had a drag rope or many other necessities with him (such as his license, a knife, and so on).

Dad radioed back, “I’m already running to you.” He had started running as soon as he had heard the shot.

“Take your time,” I said. “He’s dead in front of me. I can see him. It’s a fork horn.”

Dad came running up two minutes later. “Where is he?”

I pointed Dad to the deer while I remained in the stand. “I hate to tell you this, buddy,” he said. “It’s a six.”

Dad With My 6-Pointer

Dad With My 6-Pointer

From the tree stand, I had one bar on my cell phone. I called our wives to let them know that we’d be occupied for a while.

A View from the Top

A View from the Top

“I shot a buck,” I said to Debbie.

“Holy mackerel,” she replied. “I’ll bring some snacks by.”

After taking a few pictures from the stand, I climbed down. Dad shook my hand and gave me hug.

“Nice job,” he said.

“You did all the work,” I said. “All I did was grunt and pull the trigger.”

“All I Did Was Grunt and Pull the Trigger.”

“All I Did Was Grunt and Pull the Trigger.”

As I field dressed the deer, Dad asked me to recount the whole story. After that, he told me his side of the story. During that time, Debbie had dropped off a cooler with snacks and drinks at Dad’s truck.

After completing the field dressing, I made the half-mile hike back to Dad’s truck alone to drop off a bunch of our stuff and get some of Debbie’s snacks and drinks.

“I’ll wait here with the deer, and I’ll keep my rifle in case those two little bastards show up,” Dad said, referring to the young black bears that had attacked the camera and climbed the stand.

When I got back to the truck, I dropped the tailgate to make our lives easier getting the deer in the bed of the truck.

The drag out wasn’t bad. It was mostly downhill, and there weren’t many blowdowns. Dad kept trying to help me drag the deer, but I kept telling him to just carry our gear because he was dealing with a hernia. I didn’t want it to get worse. Besides, I was so excited about getting my first buck that dragging it didn’t feel like work.

When we got close to the truck, we waited until no cars were driving by to put the deer in the back. We didn’t want everyone to know about our great new hunting spot.

We went home to eat something and take the deer to a checking station. As I went outside to cut out the tenderloins, Dad’s neighbor Jean came up the driveway with a hearty “Congratulations!”

“What brings you by?” I asked.

“I saw you parked down the road earlier,” she said. “I figured that you had your tailgate down because you got a deer.”

Right then, I made a mental note to never leave the tailgate down on a pickup truck at any of our hunting spots.

Never Leave the Tailgate Down

Never Leave the Tailgate Down

She took a couple pictures of Dad and me with the deer.

“Look at that smile,” she said. “You can’t wipe that grin off your face.”

“What can I say,” I said. “It’s my first buck.”

That First-Buck Smile

That First-Buck Smile

To my surprise, she offered to hold the legs open so I could access the tenderloins. By this time, her husband Mike had come over to check out the deer as well. He wasn’t surprised that Jean was willing to hold the leg. “Jean is fascinated with dead wildlife,” he said. “Haven’t you seen the beaver pelt in our house?”

We didn’t have much time to chat. Being Sunday, the local sporting goods shop closed early, and we had to rush to get there in time to check in the deer.

He weighed in at 106 pounds; not bad for a 1.5-year old buck. We’ve always butchered our own deer, something I took great pride in, but it was getting to be late in the afternoon. I had an early meeting the next morning, and I was still two hours away from home. Luckily, we bumped into one of our favorite game wardens at the checking station, and he gave us the name of his favorite butcher.

He Weighed in at 106 Pounds

He Weighed in at 106 Pounds

When we arrived at the butcher’s, he asked, “Is he a beauty?” I was thinking, “He’s the most beautiful deer I’ve ever seen,” but before I could respond, he answered his own question, “They all are, aren’t they?” I agreed, but I was stunned that a guy who spends day after day butchering dozens of deer would still think that deer are beautiful. It was refreshing to talk to someone who respects the animals as much, if not more than we do.

The Most Beautiful Deer I’ve Ever Seen

The Most Beautiful Deer I’ve Ever Seen

Having finally tagged my first buck, I felt a huge weight lift off of my shoulders. I felt like a real hunter, not just some city slicker that runs around the woods on weekends. Of course, I had very little to do with my success. All the credit goes to the guide.

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 3

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 3

As the days start to shorten, and our thoughts turn to the upcoming fall hunting season, our minds turn to successful seasons past. Below is part 3 of my son Tony’s write-up of shooting his first buck on November 13, 2011.

WLAGS

——————

Opening day in New Hampshire is always on a Wednesday. Dad’s brother-in-law, Dana always comes up from New York for that week. For reasons I can’t remember now, we decided to hunt other places, like J.E. and our other usual haunts. We hunted hard Wednesday through Friday, and none of us so much as saw a deer. We were frustrated. At one point, Dana and I were admiring one of Dad’s neighbor’s shed antler collection.

Dad’s Neighbor’s Shed Antler Collection

Dad’s Neighbor’s Shed Antler Collection

As I started a three-point turn to leave, we noticed a nice buck hanging in a tree at the end of his driveway. “So that’s what they look like,” Dana said wryly. “Some hunters we are,” he added. “We didn’t even notice one 10 feet from us hanging in a tree!” Defeated, Dana and I headed home for lunch. Dad was still out scouting, earning the G in WLAGS.

The Elusive Plain-Sight Buck

The Elusive Plain-Sight Buck

Just as Dana and I finished our lunches, Dad came home furious. “Someone screwed with our new ladder stand,” he yelled. “And the camera! The camera was on the ground, facing the tree stand, and the rope we tied to the stand was on the ground. The strap for the camera was on the ground, but it was still locked to the tree. But they screwed up! They left the SD card in the camera! I’ve got them now! Let’s go see if we can recognize them.”

Dana, my dad, and I headed to my dad’s computer in the basement. As my dad popped the SD card into his computer, we anxiously awaited what the videos would reveal. Dad hadn’t checked the camera in a long time. Thus, there were many videos on the card, including videos of the following:

Dana (6'3") Showing How Tall That Bull Moose in the Video Is

Dana (6’3″) Showing How Tall That Bull Moose in the Video Is

We were still anticipating seeing the would-be thieves. “OK, we should be getting to the most recent videos now,” Dad said.

The next video was of a young black bear walking from right to left in front of the camera. Just as it’s about to walk by, it stops and walks towards and eventually behind the camera.

In the second video, the bear is sniffing and pawing at the camera. With each successive 30-second clip, the bear became more aggressive with the camera, biting at it continually. At one point, you can hear the strap coming out of the camera as the bear pulls it with his teeth. The camera ends up on the ground, facing the stand, which serendipitously allows you to see the bear and its sibling climb the tree stand. The very next video is of Dad showing up on the scene four days later. He is visibly confused and upset. That’s the final video on the card.

Two Young Bears Messing With Our Stand

Two Young Bears Messing With Our Stand

We nearly fell off of our chairs laughing. Dad’s would-be thieves were two yearling black bears, who had it in for Dad’s camera and tree stand. We watched the videos over and over, and they never ceased to send us into knee-slapping, howling laughter. “Are…you…kidding…me?” was all Dad could manage between guffaws.

Despite all the laughs, we learned something important. This tree stand had a lot of activity—a lot more activity than all of our other stands—and that couldn’t have been a coincidence. Clearly something was drawing all these animals to this area. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was the beechnuts.

On Saturday, Dana left very early to get home for opening day of gun season in New York. My dad and I continued to hunt, and we weren’t having any more luck. I was pessimistic.

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 2

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 2

As the days start to shorten, and our thoughts turn to the upcoming fall hunting season, our minds turn to successful seasons past. Below is part 2 of my son Tony’s write-up of shooting his first buck on November 13, 2011.

WLAGS

——————

In the summer of 2011, my dad had been retired for a bit, and, like any good guide, he made scouting for the upcoming fall his full-time job. He was hell-bent on helping his brother-in-law, Dana, or me to get a deer that season.

2011 was an unusual year in my dad’s neck of the woods. There was an uncharacteristically small acorn crop and no apples to speak of. Oddly, beechnuts, which are usually no factor at all in the area, became the predominant food source for nearly all animals that year. Once my dad discovered this, he realized that he’d have to start scouting lots of new places, and we’d have to put up new tree stands. He got right to the task.

He found an area that was loaded with beechnuts. He scouted the area hard, and he found where three different bucks were working the area. He had always liked this one break in a stone wall. Lots of animals had always used this as a crossing. This spot was between two beechnut groves and near bedding cover. It was a good transition zone. He’d always wanted a stand here, but with few oak trees in the area, it wasn’t worth putting a stand here during the usual acorn-heavy years. This year, it made perfect sense.

He decided that it was worth putting a ladder stand in a large white pine that overlooked the break in the stone wall. The hard part would be getting the ladder stand there. As he scouted the area, he found a good way to get to the stand—not the fastest way, and not the easiest way, but the way that would allow a hunter to “sneak in the backdoor” of the stand without disturbing any deer that might be feeding on those beechnuts.

Pink surveyor’s tape has become my dad’s calling card. As he discovered this way of accessing the stand, he started to place bits of pink tape along this homemade “trail” that spanned the half mile from the pull-off where he parked to the stand.

Each time he went in to scout the area, he carried one piece of the aluminum ladder stand with him. The ladder stand has four pieces: three 5-foot ladder sections and a platform and seat section. After each trip, he would hide the sections of the tree stand under some branches. Once they were all in place, he waited for me to come visit for a scouting weekend to help put the stand in the tree, which is definitely a two-person job, at a minimum.

When I arrived, I could see that he had everything in place, like a good guide should. We parked in his pull-off, and he showed me the pattern he used to put up the pink tape along his route to the stand. He showed me all of the beechnut trees along the way, along with all of the deer sign, not to mention all of the bear claw marks in the beechnut trees.

Bear Claw Marks in a Beech Tree

Bear Claw Marks in a Beech Tree

He had been through there so many times, that he had created nicknames for some of the spots along the way, as he is wont to do. For example, he nicknamed one SUV-sized boulder surrounded by beech trees Turtle Rock, due to its tortoise-like shape.

Dana in Front of Turtle Rock

Dana in Front of Turtle Rock

These nicknames come in handy when one is mentioning locations of deer sightings or deer sign. You might say something like, “I saw a fresh scrape about 100 yards south of Turtle Rock. It looks like it was from one of the fork horns.”

For the uninitiated, that means that a buck with four antler points had scraped the ground with one of its front hooves to mark his territory. Bucks make scrapes under a licking branch, a branch that the buck can lick and reach up to rub the glands near his eyes. These branches give you a good indication of the buck’s size, as they are usually about as high as the top of his head. To add more scent to the location, the buck also urinates down one of his legs so that the urine runs over one of his tarsal glands. This gives the scrape a pungent, musky odor. I’ve smelled fresh scrapes from hundreds of yards away, and as my Uncle Franny used to say, “My nose is big, but it don’t work worth a damn.” You can imagine how far away a doe and other bucks could smell a scrape, given that their sense of smell is better than a Blood Hound’s.

A Small Buck Scrape

A Small Buck Scrape

We arrived at the stand site, and we assembled and put the stand on the tree. It didn’t take long. By this point, we were old hands at this. We had put up and moved many a ladder stand over the last several years. We locked the stand in place with a chain, just in case.

About 50 yards from the stand, the break in the stone wall was over the shooter’s left shoulder, perfect for a right-handed shot, like all of us who hunt with my dad. About 35 yards away, straight in front of the shooter, was my dad’s trail camera on another tree, pointed to the left, ever vigilant of that break in the stone wall. We were ready for opening day.

Just When You Think You’ve Figured It Out

At my age, it is easy to think that you’ve seen it all. I know better, especially when it comes to the natural world, but I do think that, most of the time, I can figure it out.

Wrong!

Example number 1: This year’s Moosehead fishing trips. It is true that no two years are ever alike up there in May, but I can usually deal with that and have a measure of success.

This year was like no other. It was warmer, windier, and calmer (all in a week’s time) than I had ever seen before.

It Was Warmer and Calmer Than Ever Before

It Was Warmer and Calmer Than Ever Before

The surface water temperatures changed not daily but hourly as much as five degrees an hour. Never have I seen that before.

I won’t bore you with the details. It was not our worst year ever, but it was close.

We worked harder and put in more hours to catch a few fish. The good news is that they were all good fish–from Debbie’s 15”native brookie to Tony’s 23.5” laker. They were worth the effort, but it was a lot of effort.

Tony's 23.5-Inch Lake Trout

Tony’s 23.5-Inch Lake Trout

Example number 2: Today at J.E. I tried to take advantage of a break in the heat and the rain to check cameras.

On my previous trip to Camera #1, I got a video of a sow with two new cubs. They were about the size of six-week old lab pups, and they were scrambling like crazy to keep up with Mom. I also got video of a very pregnant doe, and I was hoping to get some of the fawn this trip.

Today, I saw fresh moose track near Stand #1, and did get a video of a big cow. I also got video there of a sizeable bear and a coyote.

I rarely actually walk up to the stand, but for some reason I did today. I was in for a surprise, as the lower four-foot section of the ladder was on the ground while the rest was still hanging in the tree. My first thought was (as one might expect) was “someone was messing with it,” but I know better.

You might remember a few years ago when a similar experience proved me wrong when two young bears messed with a camera and a stand, eventually climbing the stand. Those videos are on YouTube.

Two Young Bears Messing With Our Stand

Two Young Bears Messing With Our Stand

So I wasn’t so quick to come to a conclusion. First, this stand is very well hidden. Second, I tried to put the section back in place, but it was fruitless unless I loosened all of the straps, which in the rain and with tons of mosquitos buzzing around me, I decided against. It was obvious the perpetrator was very strong. He had to lift and pull this stand, which was extremely secure, having been in place for years!

The first camera is only 25 to 30 yards away, but with all the new greenery it might as well be a mile away. However the bear that I would see on the video when I got home was more than big enough to do the job.

Next surprise? Not a surprise at all. Camera #2 was all discombobulated when I arrived. One of the two latches was open, and the camera was on the wrong side of the tree. This didn’t take a genius to figure out. Sure enough, the video was all telling that it was a large bear.

Next surprise? Three times in three minutes the bear stood on his hind legs and vigorously rubbbed his back on the tree right in front of the camera! Bad news: This is my oldest camera, so there’s no sound.

The bear is very much enjoying his back rub!

Pole Dancing Bear

Pole Dancing Bear

Just when you thought you’ve seen it all!

WLAGS

Scouting Report for October 2, 2014

I hope you don’t think I have been slacking off. I’ve hit Faxxon twice, two other spots, and J.E., of course.

My focus has been on finding hot spots for Tony and Brad’s bowhunting. I can’t say that I’ve found anything hot, but I did find some promising looking spots.

The J.E. cameras were quiet these past few days with only bears, of course, and fox.

A Curious Bear at Stand #2

A Curious Bear at Stand #2

The places that we still need to check are the oaks at J.E. above the beaver bog, and Stand #5. Hopefully Tony will get up there this weekend.

Moose activity has picked up dramatically. After seeing little activity in past weeks, the rut is on.

Bears are everywhere. Faxxon was covered in droppings with blackberries in them. J.E. bears are on the acorns.

Sow and Cub at Stand #2

Sow and Cub at Stand #2

There is a new huge cutover, more than 3/4 of a mile long on A. Pond Rd. I saw a doe and a skipper there.

WLAGS