OPENING DAY DEER HUNT

Author's note: Today was the first day of the bow hunting season for deer here in Michigan. I was out in the woods, and this is how my hunt went.


Before moving here to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, I rarely had an opportunity to hunt deer on the opening day of the bow season. Most years, I took a week away from wherever I was living and working, and drove here to hunt. Being here permanently has changed things in many pleasant ways. Today was one of these nice advantages.

I drove to Duane Deno’s house well before sunrise, to haul him and his hunting gear out to an area where we placed tree stands well before the season started. He and I have known each other for about fifty years and have spent a lot of time chasing deer together.

Light rain fell during the drive, but skies cleared (temporarily) when we reached the woods. His stand is named the “Pocket Stand” because it overlooks a very small open pocket surrounded by heavy woods. My stand is called “Birch Hill” because it is a very small rise of higher ground surrounded by low ground, marsh, and swamp. The rise holds some very scenic live birches, along with maple, spruce, and cedar.

Dead birch trees lay scattered across the rise as well, like so many deceased soldiers on a battlefield. Trails cross the spot, some of which look like cow paths from many years of use by deer. A bear stays around the spot, occasionally raiding old, wild apple trees and breaking their branches to get at the fruit. We only get to see this animal as photos on the trail camera we sometimes set there. As with most bruins, this one is secretive and mostly roams at night.

We had to cut our stay somewhat short today because the wind kicked up so hard that it swayed the trees we hunted from. The strong gusts would not have knocked us out of the stands, but it made aiming very hard with all the movement it created. By noon we walked back to the truck. This was the first day, and we’ll have plenty of other opportunities.

We both could have taken deer shortly after getting settled in. By 8:45 a.m. I had seen four different does pass by. Three stayed about fifteen minutes within range of my bow as they browsed on some plants that grow only on Birch Hill and a few other spots in the area. These plants have leaves that look like maple, but I’m not sure what kind of vegetation it is. About one to two feet tall and quite leafy, it sprouts on sunny openings. The stem is tough and I can hear deer pulling them out by the mouthful even when I can’t see the animals themselves.

Duane had a doe near his stand as well, but it stayed one and one-half hours, forcing him to stay quite still so it would not get spooked and run off. In a way, the doe acted as a live decoy. Duane hoped a buck would happen by, but it was not to be. We usually take a doe apiece to help keep the herd in balance, then concentrate on finding bucks later in October or early November. They are much more active at those times.

So our opening day was a success even though we did not fill a tag. Being out there before sunrise and watching the woods come alive around you is an experience I guess I’ll never tire of. I’ll have plenty more to write about as the season progresses. Keep watching this blogsite for additional reports.

Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008

TREE TRIMMING

By: Ray Hansen

Last year about this time, I was trimming branches from the backyard trees to let more sunlight in. The spruces especially, block the light very effectively. Anyway, I was about ten feet up a ladder, and sawing through a thick, heavy poplar branch that extended out about twenty-five feet from the trunk. It was as high as I could reach over my head, but on the other side of the tree. Suddenly, it snapped off and the far end hit the ground which made it recoil back toward me like a huge, blunt-tipped spear. I could see disaster unfolding - almost as if in slow motion - and I said: "oh @#^^*$$!*, this is going to hurt!"

Well... the sawed end of the branch slammed into my chest like a World War Two soldier ramming a bayonet into the enemy. It flipped me off the ladder with the force of a pellet leaving a slingshot. Kate says I fell straight down, and slammed into the ground on my back. To me, it seemed more like one of the high dives you see in the Olympics, where the athlete does some spirals, maybe a complete rotation or two, then finishes with perhaps a jack-knife maneuver before touching down gracefully. Of course, they have the advantage of landing in water. I, on the other hand, crashed into hard, rocky ground filled with spear-like branches I had previously cut.

The duration of the fall is also in dispute. Kate says it happened in a flash, but of course, her perspective is that of a somewhat alarmed observer. To me - actually experiencing the event - it was more like a sky-dive. The fall seemed long enough for me to review several possible gymnastic moves while in the actual free-fall, before finally deciding that a simple back-slam would end the experience. To me, a side-line observer would have seen something like an acrobatic bi-winged aircraft doing loops and tailspins, before finally heading straight toward the ground. You hold your breath, knowing (and hoping) they will pull out at the last second. My case though, resulted in an uncontrolled flight path to earth, culminating in a full crash.

I lay on the ground slightly dazed, and thoroughly rattled, but intact. After checking my own limbs and finding no breaks or dislocations, I had Kate help me up. I wobbled into the house for a very welcome break, and was out there sawing limbs again after a half-hour rest. You know the old saw: “when a horse throws you, get right back on and ride”.

Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008