Bucks and Beechnuts

Bucks and Beechnuts

Thankfully, there have been a few memorable and rewarding scouting expeditions in my life, and these few hours this morning will be added to that list.

I decided to go to a place I haven’t been to in years because, while looking through my notes for beechnut groves, I came across Gigi’s.

It’s named after the owner of the property that graciously gave us permission to hunt there many, probably 15 or more, years ago.

I remembered that there was a large beechnut grove almost surrounding her property. So I was optimistic that what I have seen near here might translate into a good crop there. I was not expecting to find what I did. As the photo inadequately shows, there are trees loaded with beechnuts. The likes of which I have NEVER seen in 55 years of hunting in the North Country.

Bountiful Beechnuts

Bountiful Beechnuts

As you look at the picture of the field, both tree lines, but especially the left side, are mostly beeches.

Gigi's Field

Gigi’s Field

They are literally hanging branches full of nuts right over the field.

Low-Hanging Fruit

Low-Hanging Fruit

What a once-in-a-lifetime chance to bowhunt beeches. Most of the time, when trying to hunt a mast crop, especially beeches, the food is spread out over a large, fairly open area, and the deer will move from one spot to another as they consume all of the nuts under certain trees. Thus, where they are today, is not necessarily where they will be tomorrow, at least as far as bow range is concerned.

The ground under those low-hanging branches was covered in turkey sign, including several dusting bowls. It’s interesting that unlike here, the trees are not yet dropping their nuts. I can only speculate in that this might be elevation related. I checked the pods and every one was full with a large healthy nut.

The field has ample grasses and even red clover. To top things off there is the apple tree at the far end that I have never seen that many apples in.

Gigi's Apple Tree

Gigi’s Apple Tree

As I headed to the truck, I was very pleased with what I saw and with myself for making those notes way back when.

At the truck, after having a snack, I thought that I should drive very slowly going out because of another big find.

As I drove in on the tote road this morning, I was surprised to see almost the whole mile of road on the left side had been logged, right up to Gigi’s property line. This of course makes her property even more important, as it now offers cover along with food. The only thing that I did wrong at this point was not to have my camera ready.

I had not gone very far, still this side of the big brook, when I saw the rump of a deer up in the cutover, 25 yards off the road. I knew that it was a buck just by its size, and I was even more convinced of that when I noticed another slightly smaller rump to its right.

My first thought was that it was a buck and a doe. Wrong! As they lifted their heads to look at me, it was two bucks.

The first was at least a long-tined six-pointer and maybe an eight, but I could not see well enough to make out brow points. The other buck was at least a four—a six if he had brow points. They were both completely in velvet still. Then a doe appeared, and the three of them bounded up the cutover. They stopped and turned broadside to me as I scrambled for the camera, which was in my backpack in the back seat…of course!

All in all, a very rewarding few hours that might result in some success later in the year.

WLAGS

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WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 1

WLAGS Guides Tony to His First Buck, Part 1

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 1 of my son Tony’s write-up of shooting his first buck on November 13, 2011.

WLAGS

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As is well documented in “The Best Season, Part 1” and in “The Best Season, Part 1: Tony’s Take,” I shot my first deer at the tender age of 15 by way of bow and arrow. That entire experience went so perfectly and easily, that I thought that harvesting a deer would quickly become a yearly event.

I felt much the way that Bronson Arroyo must have felt in November of 2004 after winning the World Series with Red Sox. He probably thought, “Now that we’ve broken this 86-year drought, we’ll probably start a dynasty that will win several more World Series titles.” Little did Arroyo know that 2005, a year in which the Red Sox would be swept out of the first round of the playoffs, would be his last in Beantown, and he’d spend the next eight years with the underachieving Cincinnati Reds, while the Red Sox would go on to win two more World Series.

Bronson Arroyo on the Underachieving Reds

Bronson Arroyo on the Underachieving Reds

When you get cocky, as I had after shooting my first deer, life has a way of humbling you awfully quickly. I spent the next 10 years underachieving as a hunter. I had several opportunities over those years, but all were undermined by bad luck, bad decisions, or bad performance on my part. I had lost my mojo as a hunter.

I finally redeemed myself 11 years after shooting my first doe by shooting a very large doe with the rifle, but that is a story for another day. To the point of this story, I would then endure a post-1986 Red Sox-like, 13-year dry spell without harvesting another deer. I continued to archery hunt for the first few years of that dry spell—Dad even gave me a recurve, which I hunted with for a couple of years.

My Cousin Shooting My Recurve

My Cousin Shooting My Recurve

But I eventually had to give up bow hunting, as my busy, city-living lifestyle wouldn’t permit me the time or access to practice. I instead alternately picked up the black powder rifle and my trusty Ruger .44 magnum carbine.

My Trusty Ruger .44 Magnum and a Buck Rub

My Trusty Ruger .44 Magnum and a Buck Rub

Again, with both of those weapons, I had opportunities, but was never able to put venison on the table. Over those years, my frustration ascended as my confidence descended, particularly as my friends and relatives continued to have success. I then entered the final stage of grief; acceptance.

I looked at my successful fellow hunters, and I realized the difference between what they were doing and what I was doing—scouting. I came to realize that my lack of success was almost entirely due to lack of scouting. It was in those years that I truly learned just how invaluable scouting is to successful hunting. My corporate ladder-climbing lifestyle just wasn’t allowing me the time to do the necessary scouting to have a successful hunting season, and I accepted that. I stopped looking at hunting as means to putting meat on the table, and I started looking at it as what it truly was for me—a hobby to get me out of the city and into the woods with my closest friends and relatives. My frustration tapered off the more that I decided that I wouldn’t care about “success” in the woods; I simply cared that I was *in* the woods and not sitting behind a desk. I began to enjoy myself more. I looked forward to simply *seeing* all the moose, bear, coyotes, and occasional deer, as well as the non-game animals. I also looked forward to being unplugged from the rat race of my daily life and just being.

Just Being

Just Being

I’ve found again and again in life that when you change your attitude in this way, success has a way of finding you, but not without a little help. Enter WLAGS.

Bowhunting Report from Tony: October 5, 2014

Below is my son Tony’s write-up of his first weekend bowhunting in J.E. this year.

WLAGS

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Getting Back in the Stand

My dad isn’t bowhunting this year due to lack of time to practice, my friend Brad had a last-minute job interview, and my friend Matt is busy with his two boys’ sports commitments on weekends these days. So it was just me hunting this weekend. My first weekend bowhunting in about 10 years was eventful in some surprising ways. Not surprising was how good it felt to once again view the world from atop a couple of our stands.

The View from Stand #2

The View from Stand #2

Due to my late arrival Friday night, I had a late start Saturday morning, which was foggy and drizzly. These great still hunting (stalking) conditions led to the season starting off on a good note. I snuck up on a doe and a skipper in the field at J.E. The doe knew I was there, but she didn’t view me as a threat until I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures of her. I stayed hunched over at the waist the whole time, and she never recognized me as a human until I stood up to take her picture.

The Doe and Skipper in the Fog

The Doe and Skipper in the Fog

To the surprise of no one, Dad had gotten these two on his cameras earlier in the year.

Doe and Skipper

Doe and Skipper

The skipper never knew that I was there. I could have shot it at about 70 yards, not that I would take a shot at that distance. I could have shot the doe at about 35 yards or so, which is perfectly legal during archery season, but I don’t want to shoot a doe with a skipper. Also, Dad asked that we not shoot does in J.E., except for that old, barren piebald doe.

Piebald Doe

Piebald Doe

I then worked my way up to Stand #5 near the top of the mountain in hopes of finding more consistent acorns. My next surprise was waiting for me when I got into the stand. A moose vertebra was sitting on the platform of my stand 20 feet in the air. A squirrel must have brought it up there to chew on.

Moose Vertebra

Moose Vertebra

I did find quite a few acorns near that stand—spread out as they are everywhere else, but I saw very little deer sign. This discouraged me until I got back to the house, and Dad showed me recent photos of a fork horn and a spike horn at Stand #2 (both during legal shooting hours), despite there being very little deer sign there as well.

Fork Horn at Stand #2

Fork Horn at Stand #2

After walking all over the mountain, and getting my 10,000 steps for the day, one thing became very clear: there are no more bears on the mountain. Despite Dad getting photos of bears almost every single day for months, there now is no fresh bear sign anywhere. They must have been chased off by those Virginia bear hunters with their dogs.

My 10,000 Steps

My 10,000 Steps

Around noon, as I stopped at the field on my way back to the car, a woman walked by me. We exchanged hellos, and she continued on her way. When I eventually started towards the car again, she had turned around and was headed towards me on the snowmobile trail to the west of Rte. 1. In a thick accent, she asked me where the pond and the road were. I told her that I was heading that way. As we walked together, I asked her where she was staying. “In a cottage on the road,” she said. Curious about her accent, I asked, “Where are you from?” She gave the one-word answer, “Europe.”

“Where in Europe?”

“Belgium.”

I told her about my wife spending time there after college, which pleasantly surprised her.

Pointing to my bow, she asked, “Are you hunting?”

“Yes, I’m hunting deer,” I said. “I saw two today.”

“I think I saw one too,” she said. She went on to describe what she saw. My best guess was that it was a calf moose.

As we approached the beaver pond, she said, “Oh yes, I remember this from this morning. You have better shoes for this.” She pointed to my knee-high rubber boots. She was wearing knee-high leather boots. We both sunk in over our ankles.

The Beaver Pond

The Beaver Pond

When we arrived at the parking lot, she said that she didn’t have far to walk and continued on foot up the road.

Upon my arrival at Dad’s, he asked the usual question, “Did you see anything?”

You can imagine his surprise when I responded, “A doe, a skipper, and a Belgian woman.”

I went to Stand #2 for the afternoon hunt, but it started to pour rain as soon as I got there. I toughed it out for about an hour. I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing with my new target behind Dad’s house.

Wildlife Behaving Badly

Sunday morning, which was also foggy and drizzly, started out with a bang, or rather a slap. I could have clubbed a beaver over the head with my bow. It ran across what we call Rte. 1 right in front of me on my way to Stand #2. This was after it slapped its tail in the puddle in the road. It then slapped its tail for another five minutes while I walked up Rte. 1. I could still hear it as I approached the field.

Surprised Beaver

Surprised Beaver

While in Stand #2, I got excited when I heard blue jays screaming at something about 50 yards in front of me. I was hoping it was that fork or the spike that was also on the camera from Friday evening. Blue jays will scream at anything. I’ve seen them scream at a young doe, and one of Dad’s trail cameras even recently captured a video of them screaming at a raccoon on Buck Knob.

This time, they were screaming at a barred owl, of which we have several photos from the camera at Stand #2. The blue jays continued to dive bomb it and harass it for another five minutes.

The Resident Barred Owl at Stand #2

The Resident Barred Owl at Stand #2

Flocks of juncos, chickadees, tufted titmice, two white breasted nuthatches, and several swamp sparrows kept me entertained the rest of the morning.  I grunted several times, but no sign of the spike horn or fork horn.

WLAGS early-season scouting showed that this would be a good, but not great acorn year. It is turning into a very good acorn year. Today I listened to hundreds of acorns fall. The area around Stand #2 is loaded now.

On my way out of the woods, I crossed the brook near Stand #1, as we usually do. Just before I crossed the brook, I looked for brook trout because I thought I had heard one scoot away from me when I was on my way in this morning. This time I saw two 4-inch brook trout. They were biting and grabbing each other’s fins and pushing each other. They battled for several minutes, until I spooked them as I crossed the brook. I took several photos of them. I wish I had thought to take a video.

One Brook Trout Pushing Another

One Brook Trout Pushing Another

On my way back to Stand #2 for my Sunday evening hunt, I heard a cow moose bleating near Stand #1. I have no doubt that it was the same cow moose that we’ve been seeing for the past three years between Stand #1, Buck Knob, and Stand #3. Three years ago, she was just a calf. Now she’s clearly mature and “hot to trot,” as Dad used to say.

I grunted several times between gusts of wind, but again, no sign of those adolescent bucks. As Dad says, “You can set your watch by a doe, but young bucks are as unpredictable as teenagers.”

On my way out of the woods in the dark, I heard a whole pack of coyotes howling near the west side of Mountain Road. Despite the gusty breeze, I could pick out individual coyotes—young pups born this spring, adolescents, and the mature adults with deeper howls. It’s likely that one of the younger ones was the one Dad caught on camera at Buck Knob.

Coyote at Buck Knob

Coyote at Buck Knob

As I approached the J.E. parking lot in the moonlight that was now so bright that it caused me to cast a shadow, a barred owl hooted a continuous farewell from the vicinity of the apple tree. It was a great way to end my first weekend back in the saddle. I can’t wait to get back out there to see what other surprises Mother Nature has in store for me.

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

Scouting News for September 10, 2014

Yesterday I hit J.E. and was pleased to see that the acorn crop continues to look better. Still no sign of beechnuts. If I were in control of such things, I would delay the beechnut crop to next year when there is almost certainly not going to be an acorn crop. If it happens we get both, it will mean some very healthy deer, but it will make them difficult to pattern.

The cameras revealed what we already knew; we have a very healthy bear population. We have far more bear photos than deer. There were bears on both cameras; mostly during daylight hours, in fact, bankers’ hours: between 8 and 5!

Who Goes There?

Who Goes There?

There were a few does, including one we have seen for the last two years. She is a slight piebald. You can make out the white spots mostly around her shoulders. If it is the same deer, then she is probably older because I have never seen a fawn with her.

Piebald Doe

Piebald Doe

There is a new buck in the neighborhood. A young, fairly long-horned, spike buck.

Spike Horn

Spike Horn

There was a fair amount of moose sign, and the cat is back. I got two photos of a bobcat, well after sunrise, but mostly of his rump.

Today I hit the old apple orchard on the far northwest side of the mountain, off H.M. Pd. Rd. I hiked up the trail that 10 or more years ago I took my nephews, Andy and Cody to see their first moose. I realized that I hadn’t been there in more than five years when I discovered a new, for me, beaver pond that is already abandoned.

The "New" Beaver Pond

The “New” Beaver Pond

There was moose track the whole way up the trail, and not much in the way of deer sign, but bear droppings.

I got to the old orchard and had mixed feelings as the trees were in good shape, mostly, but had been hit by bears.

Bear Claw Marks

Bear Claw Marks

One tree still had apples, but another that obviously had some, had been destroyed by bears.

Several of the apple trees along the tote road had died, so at least the trees that remain will make a good bowhunting spot for future years.

WLAGS

J.E. This Morning

It was 35 degrees as I left the house in a drizzle this morning. Maybe it is because days like this remind me of my early days of bowhunting, but I love to be in the woods on days like this. It was very quiet walking, and I startled the wood duck pair as I checked on them in the beaver pond.

The effects of winter were very evident. The young white pines, 2’ to 8’ in height, were still not upright. They were almost all still bent in a bow position after being buried by the heavy wet snows. The ground was almost carpet smooth as all the leaves were matted flat. Every hardwood sapling that was off the beaten path had been browsed.

The good news is I saw some encouraging signs. First were some fresh deer and moose droppings. Later I would find significant sign of what I’m sure is our resident cow moose. We have watched her grow from a six-month-old three years ago, and it is encouraging that she appears to have made it through a tough winter. She has spent most of her life not very far from Buck Knob, and it appears she wintered there. There were tons of droppings on the south-facing slopes, where you could just picture her lying in the rising sun’s rays this winter. I thought I heard her trotting off in front of me, despite the quiet conditions. A very fresh pile of droppings confirmed what I thought. I hope it was her we caught on the video last fall, baying for a bull to show up. I further hope that the big bull that showed up 25 minutes later caught up to her. I think you can bank on that. So with a little luck, we may witness our once little girl becoming a mother. If we are real lucky maybe twins.

I checked the camera on Buck Knob, and was not encouraged as photo after photo was caused by wind and shadows when the last two were of a doe and a yearling.

Doe and Yearling at Buck Knob

Doe and Yearling at Buck Knob

It is great that they made it through the winter, but she doesn’t look pregnant. She should have driven the yearling off if she was going to give birth soon. Does should be dropping their fawns anytime from now until the end of May with the youngest of them giving birth last.

If a winter is really tough, the does will lose their embryos in an effort to survive themselves. The number of fawns seen in the spring and summer are key to assessing the winter mortality.

WLAGS

Second Scouting Trip of the Year

I did a little road scouting today. I checked out the patch of woods between Millen and O.M. Rd. I always hear about deer in there.

In a mile or so up O.M. Rd. near the cell tower, there is an old farm that is now a summer home. It has a large field, and there are many apple trees including the ones at Vivian’s along that area. Vivian has deer there regularly, and on the other side of O.M. Rd. is the alpaca farm where Debbie and I have seen deer.

Alpaca

Alpaca

It is just about a half mile from Camp Morgan through the woods to that field and about three quarters of a mile from that field back to the boat ramp.

I think it is an area with great hunting–particularly bowhunting–potential.

WLAGS