Deer herds found in public access areas where hunting is allowed are frequently out-of-balance. In most cases there are lots of does for each buck, since hunters tend to remove bucks in higher numbers than does.
Deer herds in states that have forest preserves are often balanced between bucks and does, because the animals are not hunted. Nature insures that about as many bucks are born as does, so the ratio is close to 1/1.
When the herd is balanced, bucks start acting like bucks during the rut. That is to say, the largest bucks try to claim exclusive breeding rights, and will fight other bucks if that deer dares trespass on the dominant buck’s turf. I’ve seen the aftermath of these encounters.
While hiking through a forest preserve in Cook County, Illinois I found a spot where two bucks fought a bloody duel. The ground was torn down to black earth in a thirty-foot circle. Scarcely a leaf or twig was left on the ripped soil. Blood pooled in several spots, revealing that pointed antlers had gored one or both of the combatants.
I checked the ground for tracks, and found only those made by deer – nothing to indicate that a pack of coyotes had trapped a buck here. The deer prints showed widely splayed toes and good width. This fight was between two mature bucks.
I found no dead deer nearby, so I supposed that one had driven the other away. Good enough for the purposes of this fight.
Two big bucks I found in western Illinois were not so lucky. Both were prime specimens, and had battled to the death. The buck with the largest antlers had fourteen points, his foe only ten. The smaller buck however had longer tines. I’m comparing the number of points their antlers had, not body size. And the antlers were locked together so tightly, two grown men could not separate them.
Both appeared to have been over two hundred pounds live weight. Coyotes had stripped the meat from both bucks right up to the neck line. I took photos of the dead deer, since many people have never seen a real, fourteen-point buck, let alone one locked up with a ten-point.
Once again, the big bucks had torn up a large swath of the woods while thrashing, charging, shoving, and goring each other. Most likely, one of the deer had died from a broken neck, while coyotes killed the survivor since he could not escape while trying to drag the other buck.
Nature is violent and sometimes tough to understand. At the same time it can be fascinating. You never know what kind of story you’ll find in the woods.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
COYOTES IN THE DARK
Venturing out into the woods in the dark can produce all sorts of adventures. Most are not dangerous, but many will get your heart going or provide a shot of adrenaline. As hunters, most of us will walk out to stands well before sunrise, or trudge back to camp in the dark well after sunset. At these times, humans lose many of the advantages they have during the hours of daylight. Animals generally see, hear, and smell better once it is dark.
One morning I was silently slipping along a trail through hardwood ridges on a moonless night about an hour before sunrise. I had a ground blind made of natural materials on a good spot and I wanted to be there before any other hunters moved through the area, so that when they did show up, they might move deer past me. To get this advantage, I had to be very quiet and that meant going slower than usual. I also had to get there early, so I allowed plenty of time for the hike.
At the half-way point, the trail ran along the top edge of a steep bank that dropped almost vertically into a deep creek. As I walked through this stretch, a pack of coyotes suddenly began chasing a deer, and they were close! Yipping, wailing, and barking, they pushed the panicked animal toward the trail where they would have an advantage in being able to run faster without having to dodge and twist through the heavier cover in the woods.
Within seconds the deer would hit the trail, and would not likely leap over the steep embankment. Instead, I could tell it would turn either east and run past me, or west, and move farther away from where I stood.
Heart pumping, I jacked a round into the chamber of my pump-action slug gun – not that it would do me much good. I knew the coyotes were very unlikely to attack me. I just did not know what they would do if they suddenly ran into me on the same trail they chased the deer on. Maybe the sound of a shot would scatter them.
Within seconds, the deer burst out of the woods just yards from me. Turning west, it ran away from where I stood pointing the gun. The screaming pack of canines followed, and I simply stared out into the darkness, taking huge breaths as I tried to recover. The entire episode began very suddenly and was over in seconds.
The brush-wolves were simply doing what comes naturally to them – hunting deer. I was on my way to a spot deeper in the woods to do the same thing. That we almost crossed paths was purely a co-incidence. I’ve walked the same trail many times since, and have even heard other coyote packs chasing deer – just not that close. These are the types of outdoor experiences that become good stories to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
One morning I was silently slipping along a trail through hardwood ridges on a moonless night about an hour before sunrise. I had a ground blind made of natural materials on a good spot and I wanted to be there before any other hunters moved through the area, so that when they did show up, they might move deer past me. To get this advantage, I had to be very quiet and that meant going slower than usual. I also had to get there early, so I allowed plenty of time for the hike.
At the half-way point, the trail ran along the top edge of a steep bank that dropped almost vertically into a deep creek. As I walked through this stretch, a pack of coyotes suddenly began chasing a deer, and they were close! Yipping, wailing, and barking, they pushed the panicked animal toward the trail where they would have an advantage in being able to run faster without having to dodge and twist through the heavier cover in the woods.
Within seconds the deer would hit the trail, and would not likely leap over the steep embankment. Instead, I could tell it would turn either east and run past me, or west, and move farther away from where I stood.
Heart pumping, I jacked a round into the chamber of my pump-action slug gun – not that it would do me much good. I knew the coyotes were very unlikely to attack me. I just did not know what they would do if they suddenly ran into me on the same trail they chased the deer on. Maybe the sound of a shot would scatter them.
Within seconds, the deer burst out of the woods just yards from me. Turning west, it ran away from where I stood pointing the gun. The screaming pack of canines followed, and I simply stared out into the darkness, taking huge breaths as I tried to recover. The entire episode began very suddenly and was over in seconds.
The brush-wolves were simply doing what comes naturally to them – hunting deer. I was on my way to a spot deeper in the woods to do the same thing. That we almost crossed paths was purely a co-incidence. I’ve walked the same trail many times since, and have even heard other coyote packs chasing deer – just not that close. These are the types of outdoor experiences that become good stories to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
HUNTING WHERE ANCIENTS WALKED
I ran across a story from Middle Eau Claire Lake in north-central Wisconsin in which a vacationer out for a swim in 2005 found fossilized parts (including huge antlers) of an elk that may be radiocarbon dated at ten thousand years old. Archaeologists and scientists are now studying the find, and the Barnes Area Historical Association (Barnes, Wisconsin) is trying to raise money to build a museum to display the elk in. The Daily Press in Ashland, Wisconsin recently printed details about the discovery, and you may be able to access the information through the online version of that newspaper.
The story kindled a spark from my life-long interest in archaeology. I’ve found evidence of Native-American presence in places I hunted, and I suppose the ancients were there for the same reason I was: to chase deer or other wild game.
This is a partial list of things I have observed, both in wild, inaccessible places like the Boundary Waters Wilderness Area in Minnesota and Canada, and simply “out in the woods” when hunting or hiking near places I have lived in throughout the upper Midwest.
Rocks chipped or flaked to form crude tools.
Pictographs (drawings chipped into stone).
Layers of charcoal (indicating a fire) in sandy, washed out riverbanks.
Cairns (rocks balanced to signify a path or other signs).
Very old stacked cedar poles (used seasonally for framework on temporary shelters).
Ancient mines, rock quarries, and rock gathering spots (for tool making).
Cached “pine knots” (used for cooking fires).
Fish funnels in creeks (places where fish were driven through narrows and caught in woven reed or wood nets).
Boulders stacked to line up with certain celestial markers (stars, planets, sunrise).
One of the most interesting finds with the Wisconsin elk was a flaked stone spear point apparently used by the hunter who brought the animal down. The bones also show marks created by butchering it by using stone tools. You might be surprised at how effective an edged tool made of “glassy” stone can be for cutting meat, skinning, and scraping hides.
Archaeologists studying the techniques they felt were used in this case actually had students from the Experimental Archaeology Working Group (UW-Milwaukee) butcher a deer carcass using stone tools so the marks could be compared with those on the elk.
In future blogs, I’ll detail some of the things I have seen. Telling tales of my observations around a campfire after the hunt seems especially appropriate when I know I have walked the same ground as the ancients.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
The story kindled a spark from my life-long interest in archaeology. I’ve found evidence of Native-American presence in places I hunted, and I suppose the ancients were there for the same reason I was: to chase deer or other wild game.
This is a partial list of things I have observed, both in wild, inaccessible places like the Boundary Waters Wilderness Area in Minnesota and Canada, and simply “out in the woods” when hunting or hiking near places I have lived in throughout the upper Midwest.
Rocks chipped or flaked to form crude tools.
Pictographs (drawings chipped into stone).
Layers of charcoal (indicating a fire) in sandy, washed out riverbanks.
Cairns (rocks balanced to signify a path or other signs).
Very old stacked cedar poles (used seasonally for framework on temporary shelters).
Ancient mines, rock quarries, and rock gathering spots (for tool making).
Cached “pine knots” (used for cooking fires).
Fish funnels in creeks (places where fish were driven through narrows and caught in woven reed or wood nets).
Boulders stacked to line up with certain celestial markers (stars, planets, sunrise).
One of the most interesting finds with the Wisconsin elk was a flaked stone spear point apparently used by the hunter who brought the animal down. The bones also show marks created by butchering it by using stone tools. You might be surprised at how effective an edged tool made of “glassy” stone can be for cutting meat, skinning, and scraping hides.
Archaeologists studying the techniques they felt were used in this case actually had students from the Experimental Archaeology Working Group (UW-Milwaukee) butcher a deer carcass using stone tools so the marks could be compared with those on the elk.
In future blogs, I’ll detail some of the things I have seen. Telling tales of my observations around a campfire after the hunt seems especially appropriate when I know I have walked the same ground as the ancients.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
NIGHT PATROL WALLEYES
(author's note: I chose to run this blog early in the season because it takes time to find spots like this, and to gear up for the opportunity. If you are able to find a spot like this, trust me, you will treasure it.)
Once Halloween has passed, a new cold-weather creature comes out at night – and this one stalks big walleyes. You’ll spot this stalker at river mouths, at the deep end of piers, along rocky shorelines, on jetties, and most places where deeper water on the Great Lakes swings in close enough to shore that it can be reached with a rod and reel rig capable distance casting. Sometimes clad in chest waders, and at other times in coveralls paired with long hip boots, this walleye killer often shows mercy, releasing big fish as soon as they are reeled in.
These are the fearless members of the night patrol: anglers who have learned that big glass-eyes make a shoreward run during the late-fall season just as they do during the spring. Intercept these active fish, and you’ll get a bunch of great new stories to tell around the campfire.
I’ve got a pair of Jim Grandt rods ( www.grandtrods.com) that have proven their worth in this situation many times. The model XLH70, six-foot, six-inch spinning rod coupled with a “long-cast” style (extended spool) reel spooled with twenty-pound test Cortland Spectron line is a classic. Equally well suited to this task is the seven-foot model C-10 “All American Pro Series” medium/heavy action casting rod, a low-profile casting reel and the same line.
Pair these rods with three and one-half inch to five inch minnow-imitating lures, four inch soft plastic grubs or shad imitators on three-eights ounce jigheads, or one-half ounce Lewis Rat-L-Trap lures (especially the “glow” models), and you are basically ready to go. Tie on a strong snap to help in changing lures without having to re-tie.
Finding a productive spot may take a little detective work. Experienced night patrol members are likely to be tight-lipped about their favorite destinations. Friends that have been doing this in Michigan for many years wear dark colors, avoid using lights (when fishing from shore), and don’t even talk much while casting. You can find potentially good spots by consulting detailed topographic maps, asking discreetly at bait shops, and simply keeping your eyes open and ears on “high alert” for clues.
I once found a couple good places by noticing that nearby motels always had angler’s trucks and/or boats in their parking lots during the day, but the same lots had only tourist’s cars in them at night. The night patrol members were obviously fishing after dark and sleeping during the day! In another area of the Great Lakes, I knew a waitress at a local diner who revealed some information from overheard conversations at breakfast tables.
And how long does this big fish bonanza last? Well… I’ve seen boats catching big walleyes as long as open water allows it, often mid-December. The anglers casting from shore seem to get results through November on the upper Great Lakes.
This type of fishing will probably never become main-stream. It requires too much effort, cutting back on sleep, dressing for cold weather, fishing under sometimes uncomfortable conditions, not being able to find any friends willing to brave the elements, and related challenges. I’ll tell you this much however, enjoy one memorable night patrol trip for big marble-eyes with sagging bellies stuffed with smelt and other oily forage, and you’ll be hooked!
Once Halloween has passed, a new cold-weather creature comes out at night – and this one stalks big walleyes. You’ll spot this stalker at river mouths, at the deep end of piers, along rocky shorelines, on jetties, and most places where deeper water on the Great Lakes swings in close enough to shore that it can be reached with a rod and reel rig capable distance casting. Sometimes clad in chest waders, and at other times in coveralls paired with long hip boots, this walleye killer often shows mercy, releasing big fish as soon as they are reeled in.
These are the fearless members of the night patrol: anglers who have learned that big glass-eyes make a shoreward run during the late-fall season just as they do during the spring. Intercept these active fish, and you’ll get a bunch of great new stories to tell around the campfire.
I’ve got a pair of Jim Grandt rods ( www.grandtrods.com) that have proven their worth in this situation many times. The model XLH70, six-foot, six-inch spinning rod coupled with a “long-cast” style (extended spool) reel spooled with twenty-pound test Cortland Spectron line is a classic. Equally well suited to this task is the seven-foot model C-10 “All American Pro Series” medium/heavy action casting rod, a low-profile casting reel and the same line.
Pair these rods with three and one-half inch to five inch minnow-imitating lures, four inch soft plastic grubs or shad imitators on three-eights ounce jigheads, or one-half ounce Lewis Rat-L-Trap lures (especially the “glow” models), and you are basically ready to go. Tie on a strong snap to help in changing lures without having to re-tie.
Finding a productive spot may take a little detective work. Experienced night patrol members are likely to be tight-lipped about their favorite destinations. Friends that have been doing this in Michigan for many years wear dark colors, avoid using lights (when fishing from shore), and don’t even talk much while casting. You can find potentially good spots by consulting detailed topographic maps, asking discreetly at bait shops, and simply keeping your eyes open and ears on “high alert” for clues.
I once found a couple good places by noticing that nearby motels always had angler’s trucks and/or boats in their parking lots during the day, but the same lots had only tourist’s cars in them at night. The night patrol members were obviously fishing after dark and sleeping during the day! In another area of the Great Lakes, I knew a waitress at a local diner who revealed some information from overheard conversations at breakfast tables.
And how long does this big fish bonanza last? Well… I’ve seen boats catching big walleyes as long as open water allows it, often mid-December. The anglers casting from shore seem to get results through November on the upper Great Lakes.
This type of fishing will probably never become main-stream. It requires too much effort, cutting back on sleep, dressing for cold weather, fishing under sometimes uncomfortable conditions, not being able to find any friends willing to brave the elements, and related challenges. I’ll tell you this much however, enjoy one memorable night patrol trip for big marble-eyes with sagging bellies stuffed with smelt and other oily forage, and you’ll be hooked!
Monday, August 18, 2008
SOMETHING WRONG AT THE RIDGE
We both knew something was wrong at The Ridge. We had always killed deer there, including Duane’s great nine-point buck, and we had watched many others at this natural crossing without drawing on them. Want some venison for camp meat? No problem! Use an antlerless tag on one of the does we commonly see there.
”The Ridge” was our name for a long narrow strip of higher ground bordered on the west by a twenty-acre patch of wet marsh, and on the east by a much larger jungle of tag alder, white cedar, and heavy brush. This was a natural travel route for local deer, and when the rut kicked in, bucks cruised through here regularly while patrolling doe groups. Big white cedars and spruce on this elevated runway offered good stand sites. This was the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at its best.
This particular season however, traffic was way down. Something had driven the deer toward alternate routes, and the few we saw were spooky. In camp between morning and afternoon hunts, Duane and I tried to figure out what happened.
For starters, we set out a trail camera, which quickly provided a clue. Six images of a large black bear showed up within two days. But bears by themselves don’t scare deer away. The whitetails may become a little more cautious when a bruin starts poking around their favored territory, but they will not abandon a home area that has served them well for years.
Knowing that the bear was close by made Duane and I pay closer attention while hunting and the photos motivated his brother Tom to apply for bear tags the following year. He ultimately shot a prime three-hundred pound boar close by.
In desperation, I left one of my stands early one morning to take a closer “CSI” look at the area immediately surrounding a stand I had on the ridge. I uncovered clue number two in this way. The carcass of a recently killed coyote lay sprawled in heavy cover just east of my stand. The male pack leader had died hard and fast. Its neck was snapped, ears standing upright, eyes open, and teeth bared in a perpetual snarl. I could visualize a 110 pound wolf grabbing the thirty pound canine by the neck and shaking it like a rag doll.
This find revealed that a pack of wolves was challenging their smaller relatives for hunting rights to the ridge. We later found canine tracks along an old logging road that confirmed recent wolf activity. Tom’s house backs up to a twenty acre field which is bordered by heavy woods with a creek meandering through the low areas. He’d been watching wolves through a spotting scope while they harassed resident deer.
So Duane and I knew what had altered deer movements, but one additional discovery cemented the knowledge that things would not return to normal for a while. One other camp was accessed by the same sand road we used to get to our spot. A “Y” in the road signals where a truck must turn to approach the other place. The owner, “Kenny”, stopped us a few days later to say that a juvenile mountain lion had crossed the road at the junction, only fifteen feet from him as he drove in. He wasn’t guessing about what he had seen. The cat paused in the headlights before jumping into the tag alders, giving Ken a good, broadside view. I can tell you that the long, sinuous tail on a lion cannot be mistaken for any other wild feline.
So, all the local predators knew about the deer traffic on The Ridge. That left Duane and I looking for other places deer had moved to. But… that’s part of the fun. Hunting areas change, and hunters adapt. Wolves, bears, mountain lions, and coyotes move on. Whitetails eventually return to old patterns, and I hope to be in a treestand on The Ridge when they do!
”The Ridge” was our name for a long narrow strip of higher ground bordered on the west by a twenty-acre patch of wet marsh, and on the east by a much larger jungle of tag alder, white cedar, and heavy brush. This was a natural travel route for local deer, and when the rut kicked in, bucks cruised through here regularly while patrolling doe groups. Big white cedars and spruce on this elevated runway offered good stand sites. This was the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at its best.
This particular season however, traffic was way down. Something had driven the deer toward alternate routes, and the few we saw were spooky. In camp between morning and afternoon hunts, Duane and I tried to figure out what happened.
For starters, we set out a trail camera, which quickly provided a clue. Six images of a large black bear showed up within two days. But bears by themselves don’t scare deer away. The whitetails may become a little more cautious when a bruin starts poking around their favored territory, but they will not abandon a home area that has served them well for years.
Knowing that the bear was close by made Duane and I pay closer attention while hunting and the photos motivated his brother Tom to apply for bear tags the following year. He ultimately shot a prime three-hundred pound boar close by.
In desperation, I left one of my stands early one morning to take a closer “CSI” look at the area immediately surrounding a stand I had on the ridge. I uncovered clue number two in this way. The carcass of a recently killed coyote lay sprawled in heavy cover just east of my stand. The male pack leader had died hard and fast. Its neck was snapped, ears standing upright, eyes open, and teeth bared in a perpetual snarl. I could visualize a 110 pound wolf grabbing the thirty pound canine by the neck and shaking it like a rag doll.
This find revealed that a pack of wolves was challenging their smaller relatives for hunting rights to the ridge. We later found canine tracks along an old logging road that confirmed recent wolf activity. Tom’s house backs up to a twenty acre field which is bordered by heavy woods with a creek meandering through the low areas. He’d been watching wolves through a spotting scope while they harassed resident deer.
So Duane and I knew what had altered deer movements, but one additional discovery cemented the knowledge that things would not return to normal for a while. One other camp was accessed by the same sand road we used to get to our spot. A “Y” in the road signals where a truck must turn to approach the other place. The owner, “Kenny”, stopped us a few days later to say that a juvenile mountain lion had crossed the road at the junction, only fifteen feet from him as he drove in. He wasn’t guessing about what he had seen. The cat paused in the headlights before jumping into the tag alders, giving Ken a good, broadside view. I can tell you that the long, sinuous tail on a lion cannot be mistaken for any other wild feline.
So, all the local predators knew about the deer traffic on The Ridge. That left Duane and I looking for other places deer had moved to. But… that’s part of the fun. Hunting areas change, and hunters adapt. Wolves, bears, mountain lions, and coyotes move on. Whitetails eventually return to old patterns, and I hope to be in a treestand on The Ridge when they do!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Familiar Woods
Long-time friend Bob Buske who splits his time between Illinois and Minnesota and I recently took a long loop through some big woods we hunt each year. This is a herd reduction hunt on State Park land managed by biologists. About nine years ago they determined that at a population level of 100 deer per square mile, the area was badly overpopulated with whitetails.
People who do not hunt may fail to realize that if a deer herd is too large for a particular area, they browse the woods so heavily that the habitat for many other species is ruined. Deer even strip bark from trees during the winter, which kills the tree and allows faster-growing non-native species to take over.
Bob and I do our part each year to help control the herd and bring things into balance. On many occasions, Bob has gone out on opening day and filled his tag within the first hour. We stopped at some old spots we have hunted, recalling good shots, great deer sightings, and the tough challenges we have faced having to drag deer about a mile out of the hunting area.
I stopped at the remains of a fallen oak, recalling the first year it toppled. The tree fell in a spot overlooking a saddle (low spot) on a ridge, a place where we knew deer crossed frequently. Bob – as usual – got a deer early that morning. After helping him get it out of the woods, I returned to the oak. Leaves still on the upper limbs concealed me effectively as I sat among them.
I had a strong hunch I would see deer from that spot if I just waited long enough. After many hours, a group of four does approached from an unexpected direction. I took the lead doe as she crossed only twenty-five feet from my spot.
In another spot, Bob pointed out a flood plain that he has watched deer cross many times as they head for a high ridge bedding area west of his favorite place. Last year, seven deer crossed there thirty minutes after legal shooting time arrived, and he tagged a prime two and one-half year old doe from the group (this has always been an antlerless only hunt).
In another place we paced off a ninety-yard shot I made at a deer crossing another saddle on one of the many ridges found in the area. Before the season, I practiced shooting saboted slugs out to one hundred yards with my rifled-barrel Winchester model 1300 pump-action twelve-gauge shotgun, and was confident when the shot opportunity came up. The deer jumped once and went only ten feet after being hit.
When we left the woods, a very large owl silently flew low overhead, and we took this as a sign that this year’s hunt would be good. Owls are hunters too.
People who do not hunt may fail to realize that if a deer herd is too large for a particular area, they browse the woods so heavily that the habitat for many other species is ruined. Deer even strip bark from trees during the winter, which kills the tree and allows faster-growing non-native species to take over.
Bob and I do our part each year to help control the herd and bring things into balance. On many occasions, Bob has gone out on opening day and filled his tag within the first hour. We stopped at some old spots we have hunted, recalling good shots, great deer sightings, and the tough challenges we have faced having to drag deer about a mile out of the hunting area.
I stopped at the remains of a fallen oak, recalling the first year it toppled. The tree fell in a spot overlooking a saddle (low spot) on a ridge, a place where we knew deer crossed frequently. Bob – as usual – got a deer early that morning. After helping him get it out of the woods, I returned to the oak. Leaves still on the upper limbs concealed me effectively as I sat among them.
I had a strong hunch I would see deer from that spot if I just waited long enough. After many hours, a group of four does approached from an unexpected direction. I took the lead doe as she crossed only twenty-five feet from my spot.
In another spot, Bob pointed out a flood plain that he has watched deer cross many times as they head for a high ridge bedding area west of his favorite place. Last year, seven deer crossed there thirty minutes after legal shooting time arrived, and he tagged a prime two and one-half year old doe from the group (this has always been an antlerless only hunt).
In another place we paced off a ninety-yard shot I made at a deer crossing another saddle on one of the many ridges found in the area. Before the season, I practiced shooting saboted slugs out to one hundred yards with my rifled-barrel Winchester model 1300 pump-action twelve-gauge shotgun, and was confident when the shot opportunity came up. The deer jumped once and went only ten feet after being hit.
When we left the woods, a very large owl silently flew low overhead, and we took this as a sign that this year’s hunt would be good. Owls are hunters too.
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