SOMETHING WRONG AT THE RIDGE
By: Ray Hansen
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!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008.
Showing posts with label wolf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wolf. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Monday, October 27, 2008
PREDATOR AND PREY
Author’s note: I enjoyed a successful hunt last week in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I spent the week in a bowhunting camp owned by life-long friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan. Duane and I have hunted together for many years, and as usual, we were the only ones in camp during the nine-day hunt this year. Hunting is far from over. Bow hunting continues until the end of December, and the annual “rifle season” (the firearms portion of Michigan’s whitetail deer hunting season) runs from November 15 – 30. We will also be out in the woods with muzzleloaders in early December.
Both Duane and I tagged adult does during the bowhunt, and we both retain tags legal for one antlered buck each through the remainder of the season. We also have the option of tagging another antlerless deer with archery equipment if we want to use our buck tags in that way.
Anyway, I keep a detailed journal during the hunt since we normally have a number of experiences worth writing about. Today’s blog is about an injured deer I observed while hunting this year.
To set the stage for this incident, I was hunting from a small tree stand about twenty-five feet above the ground at a spot I call Birch Hill. I was experiencing a lot of deer activity that morning, and had seen nine different deer in five hours. Some offered easy shots which I decided not to take. I was confident I would see additional deer and was enjoying the activity. A group of three deer were browsing around my stand, consuming maple leaves and small, woody roots growing up out of the ground from the main roots of nearby maple trees. This is what I witnessed:
PREDATOR AND PREY
The third deer in the group was hanging back while the others began browsing. It was small, and did not have the somewhat “sleek” look of a healthy deer during the autumn season. As it maneuvered closer I saw that it had recently been attacked by coyotes or wolves. Perhaps a mountain lion or one of the local black bears. Its sides were raked heavily as if by claws, the lower jaw was broken, and its tongue protruded out of its mouth sideways from the right side. Once in a while, deer survive an attack from these predators, and make an escape. The injuries could also have been caused by a vehicle, but we were so far away from the nearest road that I did not think this was the case. Even then, the closest roads are dirt and quite rutted. Ten miles per hour is about top speed.
I decided to kill this deer if I could. I watched it try to eat with the others, but it could not bite effectively. It stayed out on the fringe of the group, and when it got closer the others would drive it away. Unfortunately (I guess) the injured deer walked away toward the east, and I had no opportunity to get a clear shot. That’s just the way it is when hunting with a bow.
Although I spent a lot of time hunting many different spots in that area for the nine days I was in camp, I did not see that deer again.
In upcoming days I will detail other hunting adventures I had. See you then!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Both Duane and I tagged adult does during the bowhunt, and we both retain tags legal for one antlered buck each through the remainder of the season. We also have the option of tagging another antlerless deer with archery equipment if we want to use our buck tags in that way.
Anyway, I keep a detailed journal during the hunt since we normally have a number of experiences worth writing about. Today’s blog is about an injured deer I observed while hunting this year.
To set the stage for this incident, I was hunting from a small tree stand about twenty-five feet above the ground at a spot I call Birch Hill. I was experiencing a lot of deer activity that morning, and had seen nine different deer in five hours. Some offered easy shots which I decided not to take. I was confident I would see additional deer and was enjoying the activity. A group of three deer were browsing around my stand, consuming maple leaves and small, woody roots growing up out of the ground from the main roots of nearby maple trees. This is what I witnessed:
PREDATOR AND PREY
The third deer in the group was hanging back while the others began browsing. It was small, and did not have the somewhat “sleek” look of a healthy deer during the autumn season. As it maneuvered closer I saw that it had recently been attacked by coyotes or wolves. Perhaps a mountain lion or one of the local black bears. Its sides were raked heavily as if by claws, the lower jaw was broken, and its tongue protruded out of its mouth sideways from the right side. Once in a while, deer survive an attack from these predators, and make an escape. The injuries could also have been caused by a vehicle, but we were so far away from the nearest road that I did not think this was the case. Even then, the closest roads are dirt and quite rutted. Ten miles per hour is about top speed.
I decided to kill this deer if I could. I watched it try to eat with the others, but it could not bite effectively. It stayed out on the fringe of the group, and when it got closer the others would drive it away. Unfortunately (I guess) the injured deer walked away toward the east, and I had no opportunity to get a clear shot. That’s just the way it is when hunting with a bow.
Although I spent a lot of time hunting many different spots in that area for the nine days I was in camp, I did not see that deer again.
In upcoming days I will detail other hunting adventures I had. See you then!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
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!
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