Category: Missouri

Show Me the Grouse!

Posted on by Jim Low
  • Part 2 of 2
  • Missouri hasn’t given up on this native game bird.
  • Grouse need old and young forest to thrive and that means cutting trees.

By Jim Low

Thrup! Thrup-thrup! Thrup-thrup, thrup-thrup-thrupthrupthrupthrupthrup!!!

Ruffed Grouse Drumming – The sound of a ruffed grouse drumming to attract a mate has been absent from most of Missouri for the better part of a century. The Missouri Department of Conservation hopes to change that. Jim Low Photo

Goose bumps roughened my arms and a chill crept up my spine.  I continued to listen to what could have been someone trying to start a balky pickup truck on a distant hilltop.  But it wasn’t a pickup, and it wasn’t in the distance.

A scant 100 yards uphill from where I sat in the growing dawn, a handsome brown and black bird strutted atop a fallen tree trunk.  Every couple of minutes, he stopped, threw out his chest and beat his wings to a percussive crescendo, hoping to attract the attention of a mate.  It was thrilling evidence that the ruffed grouse was back in the Ozarks.

This was in the 1980s, and although grouse restoration was new to me, it was anything but new to Missouri.  The Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) had been trying to bring back this native game bird since the 1940s, but in the last quarter of the 20th century, MDC made a strong effort to re-establish the species in the Show-Me State, bringing in cocks and hens from the Upper Midwest.  They were released in the central Ozarks, north-central and east-central Missouri.  By the mid-1990s, more than 4,500 grouse had been released in areas thought to have the combination of old, young and middle-aged forest that grouse need to thrive.

Initial results were encouraging.

The birds seemed to be multiplying.  The MDC eventually approved a limited grouse hunting season and expanded it in the late 1980s, but then, what once seemed success gradually turned to failure.  In Missouri, as in other states at the southern edge of the species range, grouse numbers declined.  Acting on advice from hunters and biologists alike, the Conservation Commission closed Missouri’s grouse season in 2010.  Lack of suitable habitat was cited as the cause of the decline.

“Ruffed grouse need a mosaic of old and young forests to prosper,” said MDC Resource Scientist Jason Isabelle.  “They need areas where timber harvests or storms have removed or killed all the trees, creating early-successional forest habitat.  They just can’t survive without scattered areas of disturbance in a larger forest setting.  Over the course of the last several decades, the amount of young forest habitat has declined substantially throughout the southern portion of the ruffed grouse’s range.”

Small remnant pockets of grouse survived in a few of the original restoration areas, including the wooded hills just north of the Missouri River in east-central Missouri.

When the Quail and Upland Wildlife Federation (QUWF) persuaded MDC to revisit the idea of grouse restoration, their attention turned to this area.  Working with QUWF and the USDA Forest Service, MDC conducted an analysis of habitat in the river hills region in Callaway, Montgomery and Warren counties.

One of the things the River Hills Conservation Opportunity Area has going for it, in terms of grouse habitat, is several Conservation Areas (CAs) totaling more than 20,000 acres.  Using cutting-edge technology, MDC was able to quantify habitat variables on this large acreage at a level of detail that had never been possible before.

Light detection and ranging (LIDAR) was the key.  LIDAR uses airborne lasers and global positioning system (GPS) technology to identify vegetation type and height and map its extent.  This, along with ground surveys of remnant populations, showed what habitat the birds were using, and enabled MDC to focus on producing more of it.  That work will take place on the Grouse Focus Area consisting of Little Lost Creek and Daniel Boone CAs, and on nearby private land included in the larger Grouse Emphasis Area.  MDC will provide assistance to landowners who are interested in creating grouse habitat on their property.

Isabelle and other MDC biologists concluded that a renewed reintroduction program in the River Hills area was not likely to succeed with habit that existed there in 2013.  However, they believed that grouse restoration could take hold at Little Lost Creek and Daniel Boone CAs if they could increase the amount of high-quality grouse habitat there by 20 to 25 percent.  With that goal in mind, MDC set out to create the conditions needed to bring grouse – and eventually grouse hunting – back to Missouri.

MDC has long understood that small, even-age timber harvests create conditions critical to the survival of a wide range of wildlife that depends on “edge” habitat.  Species from wild turkeys and songbirds to chipmunks and lizards thrive in the wake of such “even-age” timber harvests, as lush, diverse vegetation springs up.  Grouse will use regenerating acreage for as long as 25 years following an even-age harvest.  However, usage falls off sharply beyond 15 years.

Some people deplore even-age harvests as “clearcutting.” But decades of experience and a growing body of scientific evidence supports the position that carefully regulated small-scale timber harvests can enhance wildlife diversity without damaging soils or water quality.  The eco-friendly, 10- to 50-acre even-age harvests employed by MDC to enhance wildlife habitat today are very different from the rapacious denuding of hundreds of thousands of acres that devastated the Ozarks at the turn of the 20th century.

MDC has been working to create grouse habitat – hardwood forest regeneration sites – on Little Lost Creek and Daniel Boone CAs since 2015.  At their meeting last month, the Conservation Commission received a report from Isabelle outlining the next steps on Missouri’s renewed grouse restoration program.  By the years 2020 and 2026, Isabelle expects the combined efforts of government agencies and private cooperators to increase the amount of high-quality grouse habitat in the River Hills Focus Area by 23 and 27 percent, respectively.

The plan outlined by Isabelle calls for 120 grouse from donor states in September and October of 2019 and 2020.  Twenty grouse will go to each of three sites on Little Lost Creek CA and three on Daniel Boone CA.  After that, MDC will track the transplanted birds’ progress with roadside surveys of drumming grouse each spring.  If all goes well, these two CAs will become the source for grouse expansion into habitat on surrounding public and private land.

Most Missourians alive today have never heard the thrumming serenade of a ruffed grouse cock.  If MDC and its partners succeed, that could change in our lifetime.  To learn more about how MDC intends to reach that goal, check out the management plan for Little Lost Creek CA.

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Voyage of Boatylicious Discovery

Posted on by Jim Low
  • Missouri River 340, this ain’t no mama’s boy kayak float trip.
  • You don’t have to go to Alaska or Mt.  Kilimanjaro for an authentic outdoor adventure.
  • What you learn about extreme sports will pale in comparison to what you learn about yourself.
  • This year, the event will run August 8-11, 2017.
Kansas City’s skyline is visible from Kaw Point at the mouth of the Kansas River, where the MR340 starts.

By Jim Low

Missourians who wonder if they have the physical and mental toughness necessary to be extreme athletes don’t have to go far to find out.  They can test their mettle against a force of nature…the Missouri River.

In 2006, Scott Mansker and Russ Payzant, self-avowed “river rats,” decided to organize a paddle race to raise awareness of the world-class, but then little-known, recreational opportunities on the Big Muddy.  What they came up with was a nonstop ultra-marathon race from Kansas City to St.  Charles.  The distance between those two points – 340 miles – provided a name for the event, the Missouri River 340 (insiders generally shorten the name to MR340 or simply, “The 340”).  That first year, the event drew 11 solo paddlers and five tandem teams.  They were given 100 hours – a little more than two days – to finish the course.

Today, paddlers are allowed only 88 hours to finish the course.  They paddle so hard that the friction of their shirts causes their nipples to bleed, a distraction that veterans avoid with duct tape pasties.  The skin of their palms sloughs off in enormous blisters…more duct tape.

Packed like sardines at the start, paddlers soon are strung out over the Big Muddy’s vastness.

They endure the heat and humidity of August.

They risk literally being blown off the river by tornadoes or microbursts.

But if you think these obstacles cool the ardor of potential participants, you don’t understand the mindset of ultramarathoners.  Within days of wrapping up the inaugural Missouri River 340, Mansker and Payzant’s electronic in-boxes were flooded with email from paddlers eager to sign up for the next year’s race.

Participation ballooned so rapidly that they were forced to limit entries.   By early June of this year, nearly 500 individuals and teams had signed up for the race.  They will come from all over the United States and as far away as Japan to compete in 11 divisions: Women’s and Men’s Solo; Women’s, Men’s and Mixed Tandem; Solo Pedal Drive; Tandem Pedal Drive; Team (3-4 paddlers); Voyageur (5 to 10 paddlers); Dragon Boat (11-plus paddlers); and SUP (Stand Up Paddler.)

Spectators turn up at checkpoints to keep tabs on their favorite paddlers.

Last year’s top time – an astonishing 38 hours, 22 minutes – was posted by a six-woman team calling themselves “Boatylicious.”  The next four entrants to reach St.  Charles were all solo paddlers, three men and one woman.  All made the grueling paddle in under 45 hours.  That’s an average of more than 7.5 mph, including time to eat, drink and nap.

Napping is a must.  Even if you do, you stand a good chance of experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations, especially at night.  The 340 is scheduled to take advantage of a full moon, but phantom voices and spectral presences are a common experience in the profound darkness and calm that prevails between sunset and moonrise.  These can get you in trouble if you pay more attention to them than you do to what’s actually there.

Things like wing dikes, buoys, bridge pilings and barges.  While paddling at night in the 2007 MR 340, a mixed tandem team – ages 66 and 70 – misjudged the distance of an approaching barge and were plowed under when they tried to cross the river in front of it.  While their $5,500 kayak was being chopped to bits, the couple desperately clawed their way along the bottom of the barge’s hull, trying to avoid their boat’s fate.  Astonishingly, both paddlers emerged with only scrapes and bruises and were rescued by the barge crew.

“The 340” becomes a permanent part of some participants.

Racers are not entirely on their own.  A fleet of safety boats patrols the pack, checking on paddlers’ health, handing out sport drinks, helping in emergencies and – inevitably – picking up contestants who are simply played out.

Bringing up the rear is a safety boat known as “The Reaper.” Their job is to collect paddlers who fail to reach each mandatory check-in point in the pre-determined time necessary to have even a remote chance of finishing the race.  Slow, but dogged, paddlers dread the appearance of “The Reaper” the way that schoolchildren dread the end of summer.  But without this measure, the pack would become too strung out for safe supervision.

There are no adversaries at the finish line.

All this combines to produce epic stories: the cancer survivor who began training for the race while still undergoing chemotherapy; the alcoholic who set out to prove something to others and instead found the inner strength to overcome her physical and mental demons; world-class athletes who push themselves far beyond normal limits of human endurance and ordinary people who perform extraordinary feats.

It’s no surprise then that thousands of spectators turn out to witness the spectacle.  The biggest crowds gather at both, the starting point at the mouth of the Kansas River, and the finish line at St.  Charles’ Frontier Park.  But people also throng to the mandatory check-in points scattered along the course.  Ground-support crews mingle with relatives of racers, news media and curiosity seekers.  Highway bridges with pedestrian walks are favorite vantage points for gawkers and photographers.

If you want to get in on the fun, either as a participant or a tourist, visit rivermiles.com/mr340/ for details of this year’s event.  You also can follow the progress of the race Aug. 8-11 through posts on the MR340 forum, rivermiles.com/forum/YaBB.pl.

Kayakety Yak – Maneuvering, Fishing, Funning & Rigging, (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on by Jim Low
  • Certain optional kayak gear is handy and necessary.
  • Customize your fishing kayak for comfort and function.
Randy Boeller drove all the way from Houston, Texas, to land this chunky smallmouth on the upper Maries River. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

With a new Kayak, there are quite a few features to look for, understand and think about.  Here are some of the features that are important to me:

ADJUSTABLE SEATS & FOOT BRACES

Before writing a check, take time to sit in several kayaks to see if you can stand to sit in it for hours.  Try to find a dealer that will allow you to test “drive” kayak before purchase.  Ideally, a seat should have an adjustable, padded back rest.  The seat should also be padded with a material that allows water to drain away from your kiester.

Equally important are adjustable foot rests.  Pushing on these anchors you in your seat, providing a solid paddling platform.  They should be adjustable, not only for different leg lengths, but to allow you to change your leg position to avoid stiffness.  The surfaces of these pedal-like accessories should have a non-slip surface.

ROD HOLDERS

Sometimes these are built into the kayak’s hull and hold rods upright.  This works fine, as long as you don’t encounter any overhead obstructions.  Much better are rod holders with swiveling mounts that fold parallel with the deck.  Having multiple rod holders allow you to switch baits without re-rigging.

TACKLE COMPARTMENTS

Most kayaks have fore and aft cargo compartments, but these are hard to reach on the water.  Small compartments within reach of the seat are more practical.

ANCHOR TROLLEYS

You don’t need much of an anchor for kayak fishing, but they do come in handy when you want to hold your position against current or wind.  Anchors need ropes, and having loose rope around your feet is inconvenient, not to mention dangerous.  Anchor trolleys keep your anchor rope organized with cleats and allow you to instantly tie off anchor rope at the desired length and release it just as quickly.  A small, foldable anchor will fit easily under or beside your seat, out of the way but available when needed.

CUP HOLDERS

You laugh, but nothing is worse than cracking open a drink only to have it tip over in your lap moments later.  Well, okay, lots of things are worse, but a spilled drink is bad enough.  When not holding drinks, cup holders are useful for holding snacks, phones, lures, pliers and a dozen other things.

ACCESSORY MOUNTING SYSTEMS

These really are the mothers of all accessories.  Factory-installed accessory mounting systems permit you to customize your kayak in ways limited only by your imagination.  They accept universal mounting plates can be drilled to accept anything you want.  This is an easy way to keep cell phones, tablets, GPS units and other electronic devices handy.  Naturally, if you are short on imagination, manufacturers have lots of ideas, including tackle bins, live wells, rod holders, fish finders and, yes, cup holders.

RUDDERS

Paddling into the wind can be a challenge when fishing on lakes or large streams.  A rudder or tracking skeg keeps you on track without constant correction.  This is especially handy for trolling.

PROPULSION SYSTEMS

Speaking of trolling, trolling motors made specifically for canoes and kayaks are available.  Hobie offers kayaks equipped with their patented MirageDrive, the original kayak peddle-drive system.  These items aren’t cheap…unless you compare their prices to the cost of a bass boat.

One often-neglected accessory is a top-quality paddle.  A cheap paddle will wear you out if it doesn’t wear out first.  Don’t balk at spending a couple hundred dollars on an ergonomically friendly paddle that keep you, your wrists and shoulders out of the orthopedic surgeon’s office for years.

Fishing kayaks have become so popular that organizations dedicated to them are springing up around the country.  Missouri has two that I know of: Missouri Kayak Fishing Association and the Show Me Kayak Fishing.  You might consider hooking up with these folks for help learning the ropes of kayak angling.  Once you go ‘yak, you’ll never look back!

-end-

NO SUNDAY BAY

Posted on by Jim Low
  • Where there are no fish. 
  • Where you won’t catch the largest smallmouth of your life.
Trip leader, Tim Mead, leads a scrappy smallmouth to the boat. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low
“There is no Sunday Bay,” intoned Tim Mead as he loaded the last huge pack into a Kevlar rental canoe. “If there is a Sunday Bay, it has no fish. If it does have fish, they won’t bite, and if they do bite, they are all small.”
He turned and looked expectantly at the rest of his party. The three of us nodded in solemn agreement and off we went.
Having been here every summer for the past 30 years, Tim took the stern seat in the lead canoe, a compass and a detailed map of Ontario’s Quetico Provincial Park perched on the gear in front of him.
For the first hour and half of paddling, we occasionally heard and saw a motor boat near the American shore to our south. Then we rounded a spruce-clad point, and the motorized world disappeared.
For the next two days, the only human voices, or other sounds of civilization, we would hear were our own voices and the hiss of a Jetboil stove.

A big female snapping turtle visited us off and on for two days, trying to find a spot to lay her eggs. Jim Low Photo

We would be serenaded by loons and challenged by eagles.
We would receive multiple visits from a large and determined snapping turtle bent on laying eggs and we would catch more 3- to 5-pound bass than I ever imagined possible.
We would sleep on the ground, sip tea laced with plum brandy and fall so deeply under the spell of the Canadian boundary waters that going home would hurt.
Technically, our journey began with an 8-mile lift via johnboat to Prairie Portage, on the U.S.-Canadian border. The real adventure commenced after we checked in at the Canadian customs office and launched our two canoes into sprawling Basswood Lake.
Having read Tim’s book, Quetico Adventures, I had a good idea what to expect during our five-day trip. I was prepared for coolish weather (nighttime lows in the 40s), rain, mosquito swarms and living on dehydrated food. I thought I was prepared to encounter amazing fishing, but when the first 20-inch bronzeback darted from the depths to make a pass at my surface plug, all my mental fuses blew.
Before I knew what I was doing, I jerked the plug out of the water and shouted. Well, I shouted something I hoped my paddling partner, Mike Quinn, wouldn’t hold against me. I assume he heard worse during his years in the Navy, but what my swearing lacked in creativity, it made up for with awestruck intensity.
In 50-plus years of chasing smallmouths in Missouri, I had never seen one close to that big. In the next half hour, Mike and I landed or hooked and got good looks at the five biggest smallmouths I had ever seen in person. And we were only an hour into the first day of fishing!

Mike Quinn with a 28-inch Northern Pike.  Jim Low Photo

Over the following four days, we caught bass until our arms ached. Tim caught one largemouth bass whose mouth could comfortably accommodated a softball. He estimated its weight around 8 pounds, not a monster by Southern standards, but not bad for a fish species living outside its original native range and competing with fish their ancestors never had to contend with.
These included northern pike between two and three feet long and smallmouth bass that would have sent their Show-Me State kin dashing for cover. Boundary Waters smallies aren’t just long; they are built like defensive tackles, and they fight like demons, alternately burrowing toward the bottom and executing head-shaking jumps that would do a tarpon proud.
The smallmouth bass here bit with equal verve on everything from plastic grubs to Zara Spooks.
They bit at high noon, and at dusk, and at dawn.

Mike Quinn with one of the big bronzebacks caught in a place that definitely, absolutely is not Sunday Bay on the last day of the trip.  Jim Low Photo

In the past, I sometimes wondered if I might one day grow tired of catching smallmouths. That worry has been laid to rest. Apparently, my limitless capacity for enjoying smallmouths is actually limitless.
The real test came on the last day, when we reached a place that definitely is not Sunday Bay. Mike and I both were stiff from several hours in the canoe, so we hauled out on a rocky point to stretch. On the leeward side of the point was a large bay with a level bottom of basketball-sized rocks in 7 to 10 feet of clear water. As we stood savoring the view and the rest, fish began to feed at the surface. There were no violent strikes, just small pops followed by large swirls.
Just moments earlier, I had told Mike that I’d caught enough bass for one day. Seeing dozens of swirls changed my mind. I tied on a big, black buzzbait and threw it a little beyond the last swirl. It had barely begun to churn the surface when it disappeared like a surprised swimmer snatched by a great white shark.
When I reared back on my rod, it was difficult to believe I wasn’t stuck fast on a 100-pound log. But then the drag on my reel sang and the fun commenced. Tim and his partner, Phil Bloom, soon joined us, and we all had about 20 minutes of nonstop action before the bite abruptly ended.
As we stowed our fishing gear and began paddling for Prairie Portage and our ride back to United States soil, Tim called out, “There is no Sunday Bay.”
“If there is a Sunday Bay,” we answered in unison, “there are no fish.”

Mike Quinn shows off a nice smallmouth bass amid the splendor of Quetico Provincial Park, Ontario.  Jim Low Photo

-end-

Kayakety Yak – Maneuvering, Fishing, Funning & Rigging, (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on by Jim Low
The author brought this scrappy largemouth to hand on the upper Gasconade River.

By Jim Low

Ask anyone who has fished an Ozark stream (or anywhere) in a kayak, and you are likely to hear a paean on the many advantages of these craft.  My “aha moment” came within five minutes of climbing into a 10-foot Old Towne model. 

A slightly overlong cast landed my Rebel Craw in a wad of flotsam and I swore like a sailor, knowing I’d have to paddle like a demon against a stiff current to retrieve the $6 crankbait.  Resting my rod in the notches provided for that purpose, I grabbed the double paddle and instantly became aware of the advantages of kayak fishing.  Instead of the heavy labor needed to propel a bulky aluminum canoe upstream, a few strokes had me within reach of my lure.  Then, instead of struggling to turn a 16-foot behemoth around in tight quarters, I executed a neat 180-degree turn and was fishing again.

In the South, when food is so good you can’t believe it, they say it will make you want to slap your mama.  At that moment on Bryant Creek, I wanted to slap my Grumman.  Don’t get me wrong, canoes have their place. 

There’s no beating the cargo capacity and stability of an 18-foot touring canoe on a camping trip.  Lightweight Kevlar models in a variety of sizes and styles make canoes much more versatile than they were 30 years ago.  But for fishing skinny water or remote spots, nothing beats a kayak.  You can throw three or four of them in the bed of a pickup truck and carry them in to places other anglers can only dream of reaching.

I had no idea how important portability was until I found myself near the end of a day-long float on the upper Maries River a few years ago. 

My fishing buddy has bad hips and knees and could barely get in and out of his borrowed kayak with assistance.  We were tired and ready for a hot meal with adult beverages, when the river unexpectedly ended.  A flood had deposited several thousand cubic yards of gravel and hundreds of trees in what once was the main channel.  What was left was a quarter mile of small rivulets separated by gravel bars and choked with willow thickets. 

Randy got himself and our fishing rods to the end of the blockage, but it fell to me to drag our kayaks through the hellish mess.  I don’t know what we would have done if we had been in a canoe.

Greg Stoner of Camdenton landed two nice walleyes while fishing from his tricked-out Hobie kayak on the Niangua River.

Many kayaks are not particularly well-suited to fishing.  Dagger-like racing models are not stable enough, and too long to be maneuverable.  Short, inexpensive kayaks are similarly tippy, and there’s no place to put your fishing rod and other gear.  To enjoy kayak fishing fully, you need one fitted out specifically for that purpose.  Prices for fishing kayaks range from a few hundred dollars for models with basic features and to thousands of dollars for boats that practically paddle themselves.  There are quite a few features to look for, understand and think about. 

Check the many features out in Part 2 of 2, coming up next week. 

Summer Walleyes in the Heat of Summer, NO PROBLEM!

Posted on by Brent Frazee
Inland Lake walleyes in the mid-west are easy hot-summer fun if you’re fishing guide, Les Jarman.  Read how.  Brent Frazee Photo

By Brent Frazee

Think about the very worst conditions for walleye fishing.

High noon.  A hot sun beating down. Temperatures in the low 90s.  A blue sky, with hardly a cloud in sight.

That about covers it, doesn’t it?

So why was Les Jarman, a longtime guide, so optimistic that he and his friend, Ken White, would soon be catching walleyes in those conditions as they trolled on Stockton Lake in southwest Missouri?

“We’ve caught walleyes in the middle of the day on days that were hotter than this,” Jarman said, as he zig-zagged his boat on a flat near the river channel.  “These walleyes will get out here on these flats in the summer and they’ll suspend.

“If the baitfish are here, the walleyes will be too.  If you put a crankbait in front of them, they’ll hit.”

Staring at his electronics, Jarman saw the perfect scenario setting up.  As he trolled in 20 feet of water not far from the river channel, he watched the screen of his depth finder light up with specks of baitfish.  The occasional mark of a gamefish also showed up.

“The walleyes are scattered right now,” said Jarman, 65, who lives in the town of Stockton and operates the Specialized Guide Service.  “They’re just out here chasing shad.

“That’s why I like to troll.  Instead of sitting on one point, I can cover a lot of water this way.”

Approaching an area where a long point extended into the flat, Jarman felt something jolt the Bandit crankbait he was trolling through the Bic Sac arm of the Ozark reservoir.

When the fish stayed down, Jarman knew he had a walleye.  Moments later, he tossed that keeper into a live well already splashing with fish.

Hot weather, hot fishing.  That’s Jarman’s formula for success.  Though he fishes for walleyes year-around at Stockton, he knows the fishing doesn’t necessarily come to a halt when the heat arrives.

From early June to mid-October, he trolls for walleyes far off shore, and he and his guides clients routinely catch limits.  Jarman himself has caught fish up to 6 pounds trolling.

There is a science to his approach.  He doesn’t merely pull into open water and start trolling. He tries to keep his crankbaits cutting through the water over main-lake structure.

“I’m looking anything where there is a change in the bottom,” he said.  “Main-lake or secondary points, drop-offs, humps – that’s what walleyes will relate to in the summer.”

Jarman likes to troll with 60 to 70 feet of line out.  He uses 10-pound test and trolls at two miles per hour.  He wants to keep his crankbaits 10 to 12 feet down in water that is at least twice that deep.

“Walleyes will always come up to hit a bait,” Jarman said.  “If you troll too deep, you’re not going to catch them.  You have to be in the right zone.”

During the hottest part of summer, Jarman prefers to troll early in the day and in the evening hours.  But he knows that the fish will hit in the middle of the day, too.

He proved it on a recent sultry day in the Ozarks.  He, White and I caught enough walleyes to make a meal.  And there was a bonus.  We also caught about 20 white bass, several big crappies and a couple of keeper largemouth bass.

But such results aren’t unusual.  Jarman and his clients have been catching limits (four walleyes 15 inches or longer) of walleyes regularly in the June heat.

For Jarman, that’s just one more trick in his trade.  After guiding on Stockton since shortly after it opened in 1969, he knows where to find the sharp-toothed gamefish.

He also knows that he is fishing on the right reservoir. Stockton has long been recognized as one of Missouri’s top walleye spots, thanks to regular stockings by the Department of Conservation.

Jarman’s favorite method is to use suspending stickbaits in the early spring. He caught a 10-pound, 4-ounch walleye in March several years ago.

But he doesn’t stop fishing when the weather turns hot and humid.  He knows he can tie on a small crankbait such as a Bandit and stay on the move.

Stalking Cypress Trout

Posted on by Jim Low
Greg Stoner, Camdenton, hauled in this monster bowfin in late fall.

By Jim Low

Ask a dozen Missouri anglers what the Show-Me State’s hardest-fighting fish is, and you probably will hear the smallmouth bass mentioned.  Stripers and hybrid striped bass will certainly come up, along with the mighty blue catfish and the fearsome muskellunge.  Even the lowly goggle-eye and bluegill have their loyal followings.  But take the survey down in the Bootheel Region, some sagacious minnow-dunkers will tell you that pound for pound, nothing strikes harder or fights more tenaciously than a bowfin.

Also known as grinnel, cypress trout, dogfish and mudfish, the bowfin (Amia calva) is not granted the dignity of being classified as a sport fish in Missouri.  But if that title was based on mangled crankbaits and broken lines, the bowfin would top the sporting list.  It has a pugilist’s build, stout and heavily muscled.  And if you think muskies are torpedo-shaped, you haven’t handled a bowfin.  Their bodies are as close to cylindrical as possible, while still possessing a head and tail.

The bowfin has had to earn its street creds over a period that spans geological ages.  It and the gars are survivors of a family that swam with plesiosaurs and ichthyosaurs 180 million years ago and an ancestor of most extant fish species.

Its native distribution encompasses the coastal plains of the southeastern and eastern United States, the Mississippi and Ohio valleys and southern Great Lakes, all the way to southern Ontario and Quebec.  Beyond that, it has been introduced to parts of nearly every state east of Kansas.

Like gars, bowfins have swim bladders that double as lungs, sucking in air to obtain oxygen when their gills can’t glean enough from water.  This permits them to survive conditions that would spell doom for most fish.  In Louisiana, farmers occasionally turn up live bowfins when plowing crop fields in low-lying areas.  Presumably, some of these fish would survive until the next time neighboring streams flooded, if not for levees that keep cropland dry throughout the summer.

Bowfins can reach impressive sizes.  The pole-and-line record is 19 pounds for Missouri, not that much short of the International Game Fish Association’s all-tackle record of 21.5 pounds.  Most caught in Missouri weigh around 5 pounds.  That raises the question of how you catch one.  The answer is “very carefully.”

Bowfins lack the bony spines that make handing catfish, bass and bluegills tricky, but their mouths make up for this disadvantage.  Hundreds of small, razor-sharp teeth line their capacious mouths, and they know how to use them.  It’s not unusual for a bowfin to thrash about wildly while being unhooked, grabbing a finger, hand or any other available portion of an unlucky angler’s anatomy.  Those teeth also come into play before bowfins reach the boat.  Abrasion-resistant monofilament or high-tech braided line made of Kevlar-like material are a must when angling for bowfins.

In fact, most hooked cypress trout never make it to land, boat or net.  They have a variety of escape strategies other than sawing through line with their formidable dentition.  The most common is brute strength.  Drag settings that are sensible for bass can result in parted line when one of these brawlers makes a power run.  Better to err on the light side at first.  On the other hand, failure to cinch down the drag enough can be costly too.  Strategy No. 2 is making for the nearest submerged log or root wad and executing a quick 180-degree turn that negates the flex of your fishing rod.  Given a solid anchor point to pull against, a bowfin will find a weak spot in your line every time.

Bowfins have bony mouths, so sharp, stout hooks and low-stretch lines are helpful in making positive hook sets.  Once your drag stops screaming like a cat with its tail in a blender, don’t attempt to muscle a bowfin in.  Trying to land or net one before wearing it down is a sure way to lose it.  Even a seemingly worn-out bowfin can rally for a few more runs.  When you do get it within reach, use pliers – not bare hands – to work the hook loose.

Medium to stiff-action bass rods and quality baitcasting reels are best for this critter.  For terminal tackle, anything that would work for largemouth bass or flathead catfish is a good bet.  Crankbaits, spinnerbaits, noisy top-water plugs, jig and pork frog, buzz-baits and dark plastic worms all are proven bowfin baits.  So are live minnows, cut shad and crayfish.

Aaron Horrell, outdoor columnist for the Southeast Missourian in Cape Girardeau, uses cut bait like this sunfish head to catch bowfins.

Bowfins are most active between dusk and dawn, when they prowl the shallows.  Unlike most other fish, bowfins perfer tepid water, and they will bite all day long right through the hottest months.  Daytime fishing is most productive in deeper water.

Muskies have nothing on bowfins when it comes to vicious strikes.  Not for nothing, does an Arkansas friend of mine call the bowfin “Dr.  Death.” Also like muskies, bowfins sometimes follow bait all the way to boat or land before striking.

Bowfins are virtually absent from the Missouri River, probably because 99 percent of suitable habitat there disappeared decades ago under the tender ministrations of the U.S.  Army Corps of Engineers (CoE).  In the Mississippi River, they are more common above St.  Louis, ironically again thanks to the CoE, which has created a series of impoundments.  But if you really want to catch cypress mudfish, Swamp East Missouri is the place for you.  Several Conservation Areas (CAs) in the region offer good bowfin fishing, but the gold standard is the wetland complex comprised by Duck Creek CA and Mingo National Wildlife Refuge.  With a combined area of more than 27,000 acres, these two areas offer a lifetime of exploring.  Much of Mingo is trackless swamp, best accessed by canoe or kayak.  Duck Creek is much more accessible and produced, both, the current pole-and-line record (19 pounds, 1963) and alternative-methods record (13 pounds, 6 ounces, 2013).

By all accounts, the bowfin is far from first-rate table fare.  If not filleted and iced immediately, their flesh becomes mushy, and even then, it has a strong fishy taste.  This critter is the poster child for catch-and-release fishing.

To the east, the lower Current, Black, Little Black and St.  Francis Rivers, and their associated sloughs and backwaters, all have significant bowfin populations.  I sometimes wonder how the Asian snakehead will fare if it ever faces head-to-head competition with Missouri’s official bayou badass.  I wouldn’t bet on the invader.

-end-

SPOT & STALK TURKEY HUNTING

Posted on by Tyler Mahoney

By Tyer Mahoney

When everything goes right, your stalk the long way around to expected turkey location is rewarded.

Heavy rain and wind can put the turkeys in a funk where they don’t gobble or respond to calls.  Severe rain can wash out nests, which means hens must breed again, thus prolonging the “henned up” effect every turkey hunter dreads.  Other times, such as late season, gobblers can be plain uncooperative and won’t investigate decoys or your calling.

So what do you do?

Simple.  It’s time to get on your feet and close the distance.  Although it’s not quite the same as a strutting tom marching into your decoys, spot and stalk turkey hunting can be just as exciting and rewarding, though your safety is of key interest in manner of hunting.

I have enjoyed much success stalking turkeys on secure, private land, but learned the most from my failures.  Whether you are by yourself or with a hunting partner, I have learned several strategies to follow when you begin your stalk.

Before you begin any spot and stalk, be sure of your surroundings and possible hunters that may be in your area.  I highly recommend you only do this on private land.

SPOTTING

This might seem like the easy part, but there are several factors you must keep in mind.

First, turkeys always find a way to be where you least expect.  As you approach your glassing point, stay in cover and below the line of sight of the area you think may have turkeys.  Always abide by the rule that if you can see out in the field, then whatever is out there can see you.

Also, stay in the shadows as much as possible, which should be relatively easy if you have good timber.  Ideally, you will make your way to a spot where you can see a good distance across a field that may be a strutting zone.  Along with a large field of view, your glassing point should be accessible to a good route to make your stalk.

Next, move slowly until you spot your bird.  One of the biggest mistakes I have made is quickly glancing across a field, seeing nothing, and then hustling to my next viewing area.  It is only then I realize I’ve spooked a strutting tom standing below a rise in the field I could not see from my first position.

Many people hunt from a blind to start their day.  If you’re like me, you have had plenty of times where birds hang up in the distance or won’t commit because they are with hens.  During set-up, be sure to position your blind so the entrance is facing away from where the turkeys are likely to be located.  In case you need to close the distance on foot, that allows you to exit your blind into cover without disturbing the turkeys.

STALKING

Once you have eyes on a gobbler, the fun part begins.  You will proceed with many of the same strategies you used to spot him.

Stalking works best in certain conditions.  After a rain or in the early morning when everything is still damp, you can move much quieter.  In addition, use the wind to your advantage.  If you must cover a large distance quickly, move as far as you can when the wind picks up and stop when it dies down again. And remember the golden rule, if you are in sight of the field, whatever is in the field can see you too. Stay below their line of sight!

If your turkey is on the move, always take the long way around to get out in front.  It might be more work, but I have failed most of the time when I tried to take the most direct route to the birds.  Taking the long way around allows you to stay in better cover and leaves more room for error on your part.  For example, you will inevitably step on a fallen branch in your haste.  If you’ve maintained a wide circle, inadvertent noises or movement shouldn’t spook the turkey.

As you get closer, you will more than likely lose sight of the birds at times.  When you stop to check the position of your gobbler, be sure you are next to a large tree or thick brush.  This will allow you to hide quickly in case he surprises you.

SHOOTING

If you follow the above guidelines, you will most likely end up with a shot opportunity.  You can always increase your chances by carrying a turkey fan with you as well.  Pop that up in front of you, in sight of the tom and many times he will close the distance running right at you!

Most importantly, remember to use the rules of hunter safety and to always be aware of your surroundings!

Spot and stalk is best done in an area where you are certain no other hunters are around.  In some parts of the country, this manner of hunting is not permitted.

Good luck and happy stalking!

Hot Fish Bite in the Rainy Ozarks

Posted on by Brent Frazee

By Brent Frazee

Though Table Rock Lake has dealt with flooding since late April, guides such as Buster Loving and their clients have still enjoyed good bass fishing.

April showers brought more than May flowers in the Ozarks.  They brought near-record flooding and a mess that residents are still trying to clean up.

That’s the bad news.

There’s also plenty of good news.

Though reservoirs such as Truman, Table Rock and Taneycomo are still high, guides and resort owners report that the fishing has been surprisingly good.  If anything, they say, the floods may have helped the fishing.

And then there’s the long-term outlook.  Fisheries biologists with the Missouri Department of Conservation say that high-water springs usually result in boom year-classes of fish because of the added cover in which fry can hide from predators.

“We’re certainly not minimizing the hardships the high water has brought for many residents,” said Brian Canaday, chief of fisheries for the Missouri Department of Conservation.  “But some of our largest year-classes of fish have come in these flood years.  So this wasn’t a bad thing as far as the fish were concerned.”

At Table Rock Lake, a 43,100-acre reservoir near Branson, Mo., the water level reached almost the top of flood pool in late April after almost 10 1/2 inches of rain in a three-day period.  The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has been releasing water ever since.

It is now down to 11 feet above normal and some boat ramps are still hard to access.  But those who have been able to get on the lake have found good bass fishing.

Buster Loving, a longtime guide on Table Rock, has guided his customers to some impressive catches throughout May.

 “The bass were in the process of spawning when the high water hit, and they didn’t move,” Loving said. “For the most part, they stayed where they had fanned out their nests.

“I’m fishing the old banks. Those places might have been in 10 to 12 feet before, and they went to 25 to 30 feet after the water came up. But the fish have still been there.”

Loving remembers years when the high water hit before the spawn and the bass would pioneer into newly flooded cover.

“I won back to back tournaments one year when the lake was flooded,” Loving said. “The fish were in flooded campgrounds, around buildings and lantern holders and in green yards.

“But I haven’t seen that as much this spring.”

The huge releases from Table Rock into Lake Taneycomo caused some nervous times for resort owners, residents and fishermen for a time.  But now that release rates have slowed to a fishable rate, trout fishermen are finding excellent fishing. They’re even catching some fish not normally found in the nationally known trout lake that were flushed out of Table Rock.

“I’ve never seen so many smallmouth bass caught,” said Phil Lilley, who owns Lilley’s Landing Resort and Marina in Branson, Mo. “And the trout fishing from the dam to the Lookout area has been really good.”

“We’re seeing lots of 20-inch rainbows and more browns than normal, too.”

Lilley isn’t surprised. Every time high water hits at Taneycomo, an abundance of shad is flushed from Table Rock into Taneycomo and it sets off a feeding spree among the trout.

White jigs, shad flies, drift rigs and spoons have been the most effective lures.

The fishing has also been good at Truman Lake, the 55,600-acre reservoir in west-central Missouri that was hit hard by flooding.  As of May 18, the water level was still 20 feet above normal pool, but guides such as Jeff Faulkenberry are still helping their clients catch limits of crappies.

“The crappie spawn was about over when the water came up,” said Faulkenberry, who runs the Endless Season Guide Service. “The fish just followed the water into the new cover.

“You have to move around to find them; they’re not bunched up in one place.  But if you stay on the move and fish the green bushes, you can catch a limit.  The key is finding the schools of shad and fry.”

The biggest problem at Truman?  Access.  With the lake still high, some of the boat ramps are inaccessible.

But a few are open and others will be as the water continues to fall.  Go to the website http://www.nwk.usace.army.mil/Locations/District-Lakes/Harry-S-Truman-Lake/Daily-Lake-Info-2/ for up-to-date information on facilities.

 

 

Black Powder Bushytails

Posted on by Jim Low

By Jim Low

There’s no need to wait until fall to enjoy the thrill of hunting squirrels with a rifle.

With turkey season in the rearview mirror and Memorial Day just around the corner, Missouri hunters’ thoughts naturally turn to squirrels.  Squirrel season opens on May 27.  Hunting is mostly done with shotguns during the early months of the season, because lush foliage makes bushytails hard to spot.  When you do spy one, it’s usually just a fleeting glimpse.  However, there is a way to hunt summer squirrels with a rifle that is, paradoxically, both easier and more challenging.  I’m talking about hunting with traditional black-powder rifles with iron sights.

Daniel Boone might have been able to shoot the eyes out of squirrels at 80 paces with old Tick-Licker, but most modern-day hunters find it much harder to head-shoot squirrels with iron sights.  For consistent success, we need to get within 25 yards of our quarry.  This puts a premium on woodsmanship that can pay dividends during later, big-game seasons.

Choice of muzzleloader is mostly a matter of personal preference.  Hard-core traditionalists will opt for flintlocks, but there’s no shame in opting for the more certain ignition offered by percussion models. Since you are aiming for squirrels’ heads, it makes little difference whether your smoke pole is spitting .32-cal pellets or .54-cal marbles.  Larger projectiles do provide a slight advantage, simply because their greater diameter increases the chances that some part of the ball will make contact with the target.  They also offer the possibility of “barking” squirrels – aiming at tree trunks or limbs adjacent to the squirrel’s head so death results from concussion.  A .535-cal round ball weighing 230 grains packs a serious wallop that a .31-cal ball, weighing a mere 45 grains, can’t match.

Do not, however, let anyone tell you that small-caliber muzzleloaders won’t kill squirrels outright.  The first squirrel I shot with my .32 CVA Varmint caplock was a full-grown gray squirrel.  I had 20 grains of FFFG black powder under the .31-cal ball.  When I went to pick up the deceased rodent, all that was left of the head were flaps of skin from the lower jaw and pate.  I have since decreased my squirrel load to 15 grains of FFFG.  The heavier load simply is unnecessary.

If you don’t already own a muzzleloader, look for one with a set trigger.  This second trigger – typically located behind the main trigger – is pulled just before taking a shot.  It “sets” the main trigger, dramatically reducing the amount of pressure needed to release the hammer.  This lessens the tendency to pull the rifle to one side as you squeeze the trigger.  Traditional muzzleloaders’ lock time – the time elapsed between the moment you release the trigger and when the projectile leaves the barrel – is much longer for smoke poles than it is for modern firearms.  So, the time during which you can drift off-target is much greater.  Reducing trigger-release pressure helps offset this inherent disadvantage.

Hunting with a muzzleloader is an excellent fit for summer squirrels.  The same factors that limit hunters’ vision apply to squirrels, so they are much less likely to notice your approach.  And because last year’s leaf fall has had seven months to weather, you can slip through the woods with greater stealth.

Summer squirrels are not concentrated around nut trees, as they are in the fall.  That doesn’t mean they are randomly distributed, however.  Early in the spring, I have seen as many as a dozen squirrels in a single elm tree, harvesting the fresh, green seeds.  Later, they consume the succulent flower and leaf buds of a succession of trees.  Later still, they focus on mulberries and other fruit, such as hackberries and wild cherries.  You don’t need to know which trees provide food each week throughout the summer.  It’s enough to know that where you find one squirrel, you are likely to find more.

Sound is more important than sight for finding summer squirrels.  Take a seat or lean against a tree when you enter the woods and spend five minutes listening for the telltale rustle of squirrels foraging in the treetops.  If you hear nothing, move 50 yards and listen again.  When you hear feeding activity, gradually move toward it until you make visual contact.  Then pay attention to the squirrel’s feeding cycle.  Typically, they will spend a few minutes gathering food from one branchlet, then move on to another.  Often, they pause to rest for a few moments between forays.  Move into shooting position during the active feeding phase, freezing when your quarry moves between branches.

The Mr. Squirrel distress call, sold by Haydel’s Game Calls, is an effective tool for harvesting summer squirrels.

Another advantage to hunting squirrels in the summer is the fact that they are more susceptible to calling than at any other time of year.  Male and female squirrels respond dramatically to young squirrels’ distress calls.  You can use this habit in two ways.  One is to blind call, which will cause any squirrels in earshot to reveal their location.  A better approach is to find actively feeding squirrels, sneak in and take a position in their midst, and hit a few licks on the distress call.  Thrash the ground violently with a small, leafy sapling while calling to mimic the sound of a baby squirrel caught by a predator.  Not only will squirrels leave the treetops to investigate, some will run toward you and perch on branches, barking and offering a shot.

My squirrel distress call is sold by Haydel’s Game Calls under the name Mr. Squirrel.  Flambeau offers a different version of the same thing, called Mr. B’s Distress Squirrel Whistle.  You also can make your own out of a plastic jug.

Because most of the activity occurs high in the tree tops, most of your shots will be at steep angles.  This makes a shooting stick invaluable.  You can use a store-bought rifle rest, but I prefer an actual stick – an ironwood sapling that I cut nearly 40 years ago.  I grasp the stick with my left hand and rest the barrel of my rifle on top of my hand.  This arrangement works for any elevation.

One problem unique to summer squirrel hunting is meat spoilage.  I carry a couple of frozen water bottles in my game pouch.  Gutting squirrels as soon as you shoot them hastens cooling, and keeping them inside the pouch avoids attracting flies.

You can do all the above with a modern rifle, too.  That’s the best bet if you are dead set on bringing home a limit of bushytails.   But if you are looking for a way to make squirrel hunting more challenging and interesting, nothing beats a muzzleloader.

Sandbar Hunting – Discovery, Ancestors, Archaeology

Posted on by Jim Low
The author’s son found this Bison antiquus vertebra on a sandbar across the river from Jefferson City.

By Jim Low

A wetter-than-average spring has the Missouri River bank-full today, but it’s only a matter of time until it falls to summer levels, exposing hundreds of sandbars or, as I like to think of them, time machines.

During spring floods, the Missouri River and its thousands of tributaries carve away at geological deposits between the Rocky Mountains and St. Louis.

Missouri River sandbars seem featureless at first. Look for areas where receding flood water has deposited larger articles. Eroding banks and the upstream side of wing dikes are productive spots, too.

It digs out bones of long-extinct animals, collects artifacts from Indian camps and unearths shark teeth that fell to the bottom of the inland sea that once divided our continent in two.  Along the way, it also plucks trade goods from the rotting hulls of wrecked steam ships and objects whose origins and functions are mysteries.

Discovering an arrowhead or a huge leg bone triggers a welter of questions and speculation.

Intact arrowheads are more common than complete fossils.

Was the animal killed by a hunter or a saber-toothed tiger?

Who made the arrowhead? How did he or she lose it?

Was it carried to this spot in the vitals of a deer… or perhaps a mastodon??

The result is a pleasant sort of temporal vertigo.

One moment you have both feet planted firmly in the present.  Then, in an instant, the currents of time are tugging you back to the Pleistocene period and beyond.

This year’s natural exhibit of historical artifacts is being arranged right now beneath the mocha-colored waters of the Big Muddy.  When it opens, admission will be free to anyone with a kayak, canoe or motor boat.

The Missouri Department of Conservation maintains dozens of river accesses at convenient intervals, making it easy to plan an expedition.  The exhibit changes every time the river overtops sandbars and islands, and the first explorers get their pick of newly deposited prizes.

Sandbar archaeology has a small but dedicated following in Missouri.

The holy grail of this group is a skull of a Bison antiquus.  These huge grazers were 25 percent larger than modern bison and had horns a yard across.

Every few years, a photo of a proud beachcomber displaying such a treasure appears in a river town’s newspaper.  My own personal best find was the topmost 1/3 of an elk antler.

University of Missouri-Columbia Archaeology Professor Dr. Lee Lyman examines an Indian artifact. He estimated the age of the elk antler in front of him at 7,000 to 8,000 years.

I nearly walked past it, because only one eroded tine poked a few inches above the level surface of the sandbar.  At first, I thought it was a stick of wood.  Then I noticed that it had a hollow core and looked as if it had been gnawed by a rodent, which made me think of antlers.  Imagine my awe when I pulled on it and a massive, 2-foot end portion of an enormous antler emerged from the sand.  The whole antler likely would have had 7 points.

Investigate anything that protrudes above the sand. It could be the find of a lifetime.

Lee Lyman, then a professor of archaeology at the University of Missouri, identified my antler fragment as coming from an elk.

North American elk are descended from Eurasian red deer that crossed the Bering Land Bridge into North America during the last ice age.  The pattern of forking and slightly webbed junctions are intermediate between the typical antler shape of ancient red deer and modern-day elk.

Based on the degree of divergence from red deer, he estimated that my specimen was 7,000 to 8,000 years old.

Aside from Bison antiquus skulls – which are, let’s face it, unbeatable – the coolest thing I ever saw rescued from a sandbar was an intricately carved piece of personal ornamentation.

Lyman identified it as a robe fastener.

It was made from half of a turkey wing bone split lengthwise.  It was jet black with age.  The carving was exquisite in its detail and symmetry.  What I wouldn’t give to know the story of this piece of art!

Professor Lyman speculated that this exquisitely carved turkey wing bone might have been a robe fastener.

Pillaging artifacts and fossils from archaeological sites would be both unethical and illegal.  However, once the river washes objects away from their original locations, they lose their geologic and geographic contexts, greatly reducing their usefulness in unraveling the history they represent.

What are these? Darned if we know, but they were cool enough to come home in a pocket.

For this reason, items found on sandbars are fair game for collectors.

If no one picks them up, they will only be washed downstream – and probably reburied forever – by the next flood.  The exception is human remains, which must be reported to law-enforcement officials, even if they appear to be very old.

Artifacts found on the river are not entirely without scientific value and professional archaeologists take a lively interest in amateur finds.

If you make an interesting discovery, contact the archaeology faculty at the nearest university or the Missouri Department of Natural Resources’ State Historic Preservation Office.  They can provide fascinating insights about its identity and origins.  Then you can legitimately say you have added to the body of archaeological knowledge.

Looking for artifacts and relaxing on Missouri River sandbars is a wonderful way to spend a summer day.

-end-

God Save the King!

Posted on by Jim Low

By Jim Low

King Monarch butterfly conservation can be as simple as mowing around milkweed plants in your yard.

“Acts of creation are ordinarily reserved for gods and poets, but humbler folk may circumvent this restriction if they know how.  To plant a pine, for example, one need be neither god nor poet; one need only own a good shovel.”

I thought of this quote from Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac recently, when I received a press release from Missourians for Monarchs, a public/private partnership to conserve North America’s best-known butterfly species.

The release noted that the early arrival of spring-like weather had caused monarch butterflies to begin their northward migration unusually early.  It went on to say that the fragile migrants were carrying unusually large numbers of eggs this year.  That sounded like great news at first blush, but the release went on to say that naturalists were worried that the advanced timing of migration could cause a reproductive failure.  Monarch larvae can only survive on milkweed plants.  Butterfly experts feared that milkweeds (Missouri has nine species), might not be growing when monarchs arrived, ready to lay their eggs.

“To support the caterpillars, we’re going to need every stem of milkweed out there,” said Missourians for Monarchs Coordinator Jason Jenkins, “So we’re encouraging landowners to hold off on any springtime mowing to help this first generation of monarchs thrive.”

That’s when I thought of Aldo Leopold’s quote.  It just so happens that I have a nice little patch of milkweed growing in my front yard.  The press release was well-timed, because I had not mowed the lawn yet, and milkweed plants already were poking their heads up.  I went ahead and mowed the lawn, but I detoured around each of the two dozen milkweed plants.  I know it looks odd to human visitors, but it’s the orange-and-black, six-legged visitors I’m most concerned about.

If you own some acreage, Grow Native! can help you plant milkweed there, creating a monarch factory.

The life history of the monarch butterfly, which took decades to unravel, is so complex and improbable, it seems made up.  Monarchs make a late-summer and autumn migration to Florida, southern California or Mexico, where they spend the winter.  The following spring, they begin a northward migration that takes several years – and multiple generations – to complete.  Along the way, they harvest nectar from flowers to sustain themselves.  Only their larvae require milkweed for food.

Northward migrating, they mate and lay eggs along their way.  The larvae begin feeding on milkweed leaves immediately, chewing in a circular pattern that prevents entrapment in the plant’s sticky sap.  The leaves and sap contain cardenolides, toxic substances that the larvae concentrate, making them poisonous to most birds and other potential vertebrate predators.

Those foolish enough to consume a monarch larva or adult don’t survive to pass their genes on to the next generation.  Only those that have no interest in eating monarchs survive, vastly reducing the threat to this species.  The viceroy butterfly, which is not toxic, has evolved to mimic the monarch’s color pattern, and thus enjoys an indirect Darwinian advantage.  Black-backed orioles and black-headed grosbeaks are not susceptible to cardenolide poisoning, and account for more than half the mortality of monarchs that winter in central Mexico.

Monarch larvae pass through five stages, known as instars.  The first instar is tiny – 2 to 6 mm long.  At this stage, they are a pale translucent green.  Like other insects, monarchs must shed their skins to grow, passing into the next instar with each molt.  Along the way, they develop a striking white, yellow and black transverse bands, grow long tentacles fore and aft and develop body segments that increasingly resemble their adult form.  By the time they complete the fifth instar, they have increased their mass by a factor of 2,000 and are nearly 2 inches long.  Then they are ready to pupate.

The monarch’s chrysalis is a work of art not unlike the wrapping of gifts for Chinese emperors.  The delicate mint-green exterior is adorned with golden – not yellow, mind you, shimmering gold – spangles.  One to two weeks after pupation, the chrysalis becomes clear, and the adult butterfly emerges.  It hangs upside down while it pumps body fluids into its furled wings to expand them.  The transition from egg to adult takes anywhere from 25 days to seven weeks during the warm months.  They are sexually mature less than a week later.  Female monarchs are polyandrous and produce more eggs the more partners they have.

Monarchs migrate from their wintering grounds to breeding areas and back in one year, but not in one generation.  Generation Number 1 is the one that migrates south in the fall.  In January or February, they mate and head back north, reaching Texas or Oklahoma, where they (hopefully) find milkweed plants, lay eggs and die after a long – for monarchs – life of eight or nine months.  Generation No.  2 hatches, matures, flies farther north, mates, lays eggs and dies.  This repeats another time or two, until the northernmost breeding ground is reached.  There, another two or three generations are born.  The last one might be Generation Number 5 or 6 of that year, but they are destined to become Generation Number 1 the following year, after migrating south and spending the winter.

In this way, monarchs avoid the hot, dry summers that would make their wintering grounds unlivable, and the cold winters that would make it impossible to survive on their breeding grounds.  They also avoid sticking around any one place long enough for predators, diseases and parasites to build up and take advantage of the nutritional resource that monarchs represent.

Getting back to Aldo Leopold, you too, can wield god-like powers, if not of creation, then at least of conservation.

Habitat loss and fragmentation, along with changes in weather have led to a steep decline in monarch numbers over the past 20 years.  Butterfly conservation groups say individuals can make a difference.  Make room for monarchs on your property, whether it is a quarter-acre residential lot or a 5,000-acre farm.

Spare the milkweed plants that grow naturally by delaying mowing as long as possible or mowing around patches of milkweed.  You also can plant native milkweeds, which are available from wildflower nurseries listed at Grow Native!  These will reward your efforts with beautiful flowers that are well adapted to Missouri’s climate and require little or no maintenance.

The Missouri Department of Conservation has a monarch habitat web page about creating monarch habitat too, and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has monarch conservation strategies for individual and communities.  And take time to look at the Missourians for Monarchs blog, which has fascinating facts and beautiful photos.

You have the power.

Citizen action is what makes conservation work in Missouri and everywhere else too,

Missourians for Monarchs’ blog is an excellent place to start learning about monarch conservation.

 

Bobbing Tails & Black Scales

Posted on by Jim Low

By Jim Low

The small cup of a phoebe nest gets crowded by the time five or six chicks near fledging size.

You step out your front door to walk the dog before bedtime, and are startled by a flutter of departing wings.  The next morning, you find white splashes of bird droppings outside the door, and a little gray bird is perched on the shepherd’s hook above your bird feeder.  Instead of dropping down to grab sunflower seeds, it periodically flies out into the air above your lawn, pumping its tail impatiently in between forays. 

Outdoor light fixtures are a favorite nesting spot for Eastern phoebes, but any horizontal surface out of the weather will do.

On your way back indoors, you spy a clump of moss and mud atop your porch light.  Inside, you open the closet in your foyer and find a 4-foot snake skin inside.

What do these two things have in common? They are evidence that your home and its environs are part of a healthy ecosystem.

If you live in Missouri, the pert little gray bird that startled you was an Eastern phoebe, a member of the flycatcher family.  It isn’t particularly showy, but you can always recognize it by its nervous habit of pumping its tail up and down.  Nervous or not, phoebes aren’t sensitive to human disturbance.  Quite the opposite, they seem to seek out human habitations for their nesting sites.  Their favorite nesting spots in our neighborhood are the horizontal surfaces provided by outdoor light fixtures.

Eastern phoebe are often viewed on a neighborhood fence, farm fence or garden fence.

You might wonder where phoebes nested before humans began erecting houses, barns, sheds and other structures with nice dry spaces beneath roof eaves.  They did – and still do – what swallows do, and built their nests on rock ledges beside streams.  That works out nicely for them, since the insects that comprise most of their diet thrive around running water.  Apparently houses with water features, sprinklers and bird baths work for them, too.

Snakes, like this common rat snake, can reach places you might not believe if you didn’t see it with your own eyes.

Getting back to that scaly surprise in the closet, if you make your yard a haven for birds, rabbits, chipmunks, squirrels and other small creatures, you also make it attractive to the rest of the food chain.  This means foxes, coyotes, bobcats, hawks, owls and snakes. 

This 21-inch black rat snake was just inches away from his goal – a nest full of phoebe chicks.

The impressive skin my wife found in our closet a few years ago came from a particularly prosperous black rat snake.  Its contribution to our residential ecosystem was keeping rodent numbers in check. 

Unfortunately for the phoebes and those of us who love them, rat snakes aren’t exclusively rat eaters (ratatarians?).  We initially blamed blue jays, such easy targets for slander, for the disappearance of five phoebe chicks from the nest beside our front door.  But the truth came out the following year, when I found a reptilian ratter neatly wedged in the grooves of our brickwork.  It was at the top of the wall, and within inches of raiding the new phoebe nest.

I spared the snake, pulling him down and escorting him to the far edge of the yard, but he ultimately paid for his crime when he had the bad fortune to inhabit a patch of tall grass when I mowed it (What’s green and black and red and flies through the air with a sickening THRRRRUPPPPP?).

Anyway, assuming that the late Mr./Ms. No Shoulders had a family, I decided that the phoebes needed a more secure spot for their nest.  Toward that end, I assembled a modest wooden box with an overhanging roof and placed it 8 feet up the slick exterior wall of my tool shed.  There, the phoebes have nested unmolested ever since, and the rat snake family has returned to its rodent-control duties.

This modest box 8 feet up a smooth wall, provides safety from snakes.

Photos on trail cameras prove that foxes, coyotes and bobcats patrol the surrounding woods, but they steer clear of our house. 

Sharp-shinned hawks exact their tribute at our bird feeders, and barred owls stake out our lawn, sparing my vegetable garden from all but a few very cautious cotton-tailed marauders.  Shrews do their part to keep the local field mice honest, and moles thin out the grubs and other underground pests, which I consider a good trade for humps of loosened soil.

These are all reminders that mankind doesn’t exist in a vacuum. 

Our species is one cog – admittedly a very influential one – in what Aldo Leopold called “the land mechanism.”  It’s nice to see the other parts working, and a reminder that we should do our part to sustain balance that all of creation needs to survive.

Conservation Goes to the Capitol

Posted on by Jim Low
Steve Jones, left, represented Missouri Hunters for Fair Chase at this year’s Conservation Day at the Capitol.

By Jim Low

We often hear that politicians in Washington, D.C., live in a “bubble,” where only lobbyists and other power brokers matter.  The same is true in Jefferson City, Missouri, where state lawmakers sometimes forget who sent them there. 

Two years ago, the Conservation Federation of Missouri (CFM) organized the first Conservation Day at the Capitol to remind Show-Me State politicians that their constituents care passionately about conserving their natural legacy and hold them accountable for taking care of them.  The event’s popularity as grown, as evidenced by the hundreds of hunters, anglers, trappers, paddlers, hikers, birdwatchers and conservationists of every stripe that crowded the third floor of the capitol building’s rotunda for the third celebration of the event this year.

Visitors to Conservation Day at the Capitol got to have their pictures taken with a bald eagle and a barn owl from the World Bird Sanctuary.

Besides renewing old friendships, those in attendance lobby their senators and representatives, and forge new partnerships.  The intermingling of lawmakers, lobbyists, conservation officials and citizen advocates makes Conservation Day at the Capitol an amazing networking opportunity.  Attendees also join in honoring legislators who support conservation causes.  This year’s recipient of CFM’s Legislator of the Year Award was House Speaker Todd Richardson (R-Poplar Bluff).  His conservation score card is far from perfect, but key actions last year earned him a day in the spotlight.  A bald eagle from the World Bird Sanctuary in Valley Park, Mo., looked over Richardson’s shoulder as he accepted the award.  It was a fitting metaphor for the many outdoors-loving Missourians who keep an eagle eye on the Legislature’s activities.

Representatives of several groups, along with CFM Executive Director, Brandon Butler, excused themselves from the rotunda for part of the morning to go down to the House gallery and watch debate on a bill affecting water quality regulations.  This is the kind of oversight that CFM engages in every year, as they beat back perennial attempts to inject politics into our model conservation program. 

Groups represented at this year’s event included the Missouri Trappers Association, the Sierra Club, Grow Native!, the Ozark Fly Fishers, Quail Unlimited, Pheasants Forever, Missouri State Parks, the Native Plant Society, the Missouri Outdoor Communicators and the Missouri Natural Areas Program.  If you belong to an outdoors or conservation-related organization, but don’t participate in Conservation Day at the Capitol, you are missing a prime chance to boost your group’s influence and public profile.  If your group isn’t a CFM affiliate, you are missing out on the opportunity to multiply your clout several thousand times.

CFM is the oldest, largest, broadest-based outdoor recreation and conservation advocacy group in Missouri.  This is the group that amended the Missouri State Constitution in 1936 to set up the Missouri Department of Conservation and has served as the agency’s watchdog and defender ever since.  It was instrumental in getting Missouri voters’ approval for dedicated sales taxes for state parks and for fish, wildlife, forest, soil and water conservation programs.  CFM’s policy statements – crafted by affiliates and individual members – carry real weight in Jefferson City, whether you are dealing with lawmakers, statewide elected officials or agencies like the departments of Conservation, Natural Resources or Agriculture. 

Even federal agencies, like the U.S.  Army Corps of Engineers, the National Park Service and USDA Forest Service, sit up and take notice when CFM speaks.

Take a minute to visit CFM’s website and see what they are all about.  If you care about Missouri’s outdoor resources and want to have a say in how they are administered, this is a must-join group.

Groups attending the third annual Conservation Day at the Capitol cover the spectrum from hunters and anglers to birdwatchers. All are there to remind elected officials of the high value Missourians place on outdoor resources and recreation.

 

 

Turkey Flocks Weather the Missouri Rainstorm

Posted on by Jim Low
Difficult hunting conditions during the 2017 spring turkey season should allow more birds to hunt this fall and in 2018. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

Like everyone else, I was astonished at how much rain fell on southern Missouri over the past weekend, and I was riveted by news of the flooding it caused.  At one point, more than 350 roads were closed in Missouri alone. Flood crest records fell like dominoes, taking dozens of bridges with them.  People lost their homes, their livelihoods and their lives.  But, being a turkey hunter, my thoughts naturally turned to how the unprecedented deluge would affect the state’s wild turkey flock, not to mention my prospects for tagging a gobbler.  The news from Resource Scientist, Jason Isabelle, the Missouri Department of Conservation’s (MDC) turkey biologist, was surprisingly positive.

Isabelle had a good idea of how wild turkey mating and nesting were progressing, thanks to a multi-year study MDC is conducting in northern Missouri.  The work involves radio-tracking wild turkeys to learn about their habitat preferences and population dynamics.  It also allows researchers to determine when hens begin laying eggs.  Isabelle said that by the middle of last week – a couple of days before the big rain – only five of the 45 or 50 radio-tagged hens had begun laying.  The progress of nesting might have been slightly more advanced in southern Missouri, but even there, nesting wasn’t in full swing yet.

Last weekend’s toad-floating deluge isn’t good news for turkeys by any stretch of the imagination.  It surely flooded out some nests in low-lying areas, and 48 hours of continuous soaking undoubtedly caused some hens to abandon eggs that they could not protect from cold and wet.  The good news is that the impact would have been much more serious if the flood had come a week or two later.  Most hens won’t be affected at all, and those that lost nests will try again.

The last four days of the 2017 spring turkey season should have good conditions for tagging a gobbler.  Jim Low Photo

You might wonder, as I did, if the big rain, followed by relatively chilly weather, might disrupt Missouri turkeys’ breeding behavior.  This morning I staked out a pasture that usually attracts a mixed flock of hens, jakes and gobblers.  I got there around 5:15 and was disappointed not to hear a single gobble from any direction in the first hour and a half.  The sky was clear, and only a slight breeze rustled the treetops, conditions I associate with active gobbling, especially after several days of bad weather.  But there wasn’t a peep out of any gobbler within earshot.  By 6:30, about 50 minutes into legal shooting hours, I was ready to pull my decoy and go home for breakfast.

Taking one last look around before standing up, I spied a hen at the far side of the field.  I propped my shotgun on my knee and settled in, hoping for more.  Sure enough, another three hens soon appeared and worked their way methodically across the field in front of me, scratching up cow patties and gossiping back and forth.  The idea that four hens could wander around without at least one gobbler attending them never occurred to me. While watching the hens, I constantly cast glances at their back trail, expecting to see a fan or hear an explosive gobble at any moment.  It never happened.  The hens exited the pasture, leaving only scattered cow pies in their wake.

I assumed this aberration was the result of recent weather and sought Isabelle’s confirmation of my theory that every flock of hens should have a gobbler escort. I asked if this morning’s scenario seemed unusual to him.  It didn’t, or at least it didn’t seem any more unusual to him than wild turkeys’ normal, contrarian behavior.  He said turkey flocks shuffle and reshuffle daily.  The flock of four hens I watched today could be bigger tomorrow, or not.  It could have jakes and gobblers with them the day after tomorrow.  Or not.  That’s just turkeys.  With normal weather predicted for the first week of May, Isabelle said he expects turkeys to be doing the same things they do every year around this time.

Isabelle said more of the radio-tagged hens in his study have started going to nests in the past few days.  That means that gobblers will be getting lonely and increasingly receptive to hunters’ calls.  Even with a good final week, however, Missouri’s 2017 spring turkey harvest isn’t likely to regain lost ground.  The harvest during the first 10 days of the season ran 7 percent behind the same period in 2016, possibly due to rainy weather in southern Missouri.  The harvest during the second weekend of this year’s season was 62 percent below the 2016 figure.  This brought the deficit for the first two weeks to 15 percent.

Every cloud has a silver lining.  If this year’s spring harvest is down, there will be more birds to hunt in the fall, and more jakes will mature into lusty-gobbling 2-year-olds by the 2018 spring turkey season.  Don’t let that hold you back, though.  You still have four days to tag a longbeard.

Just because they don’t gobble doesn’t mean all the mature toms have left town. Jim Low Photo

-end-

Scrumptious Wild Turkey Cookery

Posted on by Jim Low
Bon appetite! Served with hearty bread and left-over wine, wild turkey is simple to make and is delicious beyond measure, especially with a young bird.

By Jim Low

Rain and wind made hunting conditions less than ideal for the first week of this year’s spring turkey season in Missouri.  As a result, I wasn’t feeling choosy when a sassy jake made amorous advances to my hen decoy at 6:30 Sunday morning. 

Slice breast meat across the grain before flattening each cutlet.

Bragging rights don’t come with shooting jakes, but the upside is that they are fine eating. 

 I put the legs in the pressure cooker for half an hour and boned out the meat, then ran it through the meat grinder for use in turkey salad sandwiches.  I don’t use seasonings, because wild turkey leg meat has its own rich flavor, as if it had been cooked with a mix of herbs.

I planned to brine the breast halves and smoke them over charcoal and sassafras wood, but before I got started, I sat down to spend a little time with my long-suffering wife.  She was watching a cooking show, where the celebrity chef was making chicken parmesan.  It looked so good, I decided to try it with some of my jake’s breast meat.  It was amazing.  I didn’t measure anything, but here’s how to do it.

Slice about a pound of breast meat across the grain half an inch thick and flatten the resulting cutlets with a tenderizing mallet.  Coat both sides with equal parts of grated parmesan cheese and Italian-flavored bread crumbs.  Fry the cutlets in a big, deep skillet or Dutch oven with olive oil until they are golden brown. Transfer them to a plate and set aside.

Coat cutlets with bread crumbs and fry in olive oil.

Add olive oil to the skillet and sauté three medium-sized, diced yellow onions and three large cloves of minced garlic until the onions begin to brown. 

Add an 8-ounce bottle of sun-dried tomatoes – including the oil they were packed in – and cook another five minutes.  Remove the onion mixture to a bowl and set aside.

Add 1½ cups of dry white wine to the skillet and scrape the bottom to dislodge the delicious remains of frying.  Simmer this liquid until it is reduced by half.  Add 8 ounces of tomato sauce and season with fennel, oregano, rosemary and/or basil. 

Sauté onions, garlic, sun-dried tomatoes until the onions caramelize.

Return the onion mixture to the skillet and stir in an undrained, 8-ounce can of mushroom pieces.   

Place the turkey cutlets on top, cover and cook for 30 minutes.

Serve with toasted and buttered slices of hearty, herbed bread.  I happened to have a loaf of “herb de Provence” bread that I bought for half-price from the mark-down rack at a local supermarket. It was perfect for the occasion.  Crusty French bread would be good, too.

Add a dollop of sour cream on the side if you aren’t afraid of the calories.  

Garnish with fresh chopped scallions and shaved parmesan cheese, and congratulate yourself for doing justice to a magnificent game bird.

Add white wine, tomato sauce, mushrooms, seasonings and meat.

 

One of Too Few

Posted on by David Gray
Beautiful trout are the usual order of the day with the right fly in the right place.

By David Gray

Opening the door to Tim’s Fly Shop, I walked onto “I Tie Flies” Boulevard.

Grinning without knowing it, I somehow felt a new twang of destiny on my side, positive energy and the odor of dry fly silicon or something.

There are times when you know your first time into a place, you made the right turn.

The quiet, the warm glow of the shop, this was going to be a powerful day.  You know the feeling when you are in the right place at the right time.

There was feathers, hackle, dubbing, chenille, thread, hooks and all that, but a guy named Tim Homesley sitting at his fly-tying bench with a fish-catchy grin and asking me if I needed some help.  That sealed the deal.

Some say that fly-fishing mentor Tim Homesley is one of a kind.

Others say Tim is one of too few.  I know that to be true.

Tim’s Fly Shop sits just outside the entrance to Roaring River State Park nestled deep in the Ozark hills of Missouri.

A baby boomer will call his shop “old school” where product selection is excellent, prices are fair and service is genuine.

A millennial will call his shop “trendy” where selection is great and service is awesome.

Tim Homesley is about real, live advice. No CD, no DVD, no memory stick. It’s just Tim’s way with words of wisdom, face to face.

Tim is one of the few.  Many tackle stores and fly shops like Tim’s that were prevalent not so long ago are now mostly gone.  Many have given way to on-line shopping and large retailers.

But what you will find at Tim’s you will never find online or at any big box store.   At Tim’s you will not only find tackle, you will find incredible knowledge that is shared with enthusiasm.

Mr. Tim Homesley is the owner, proprietor, tackle salesman, fly-maker and advice-giver at Tim’s fly shop.

Tim knows a lot about fishing.

His fishing advice is Priceless, Accurate, his fishing advice is a Sacred Vision into your Fish-Catching Future, his fishing advice is worth listening to. High-value wisdom is not found just anywhere.

“Dad probably thought I wanted a fly rod and brought one home for me when I was five,” Tim shared.

That fly rod sparked a 49-year long passion for fishing and learned knowledge about fishing.   Tim reminisced how before he could drive, Mom or Dad would drop him and a friend to the trout stream in the morning and pick them up that evening after they fished all day.  The passion started then.  Tim learned a lot about how to catch trout.

Prior to opening his shop, Tim spent 9 years managing the Roaring River State Park store.  And Tim added even more to his knowledge about trout fishing.

Perfectly perfect flies are the usual fish-catchers from Tim’s Fly Shop.

Then 23 years ago, he opened Tim’s Fly Shop.  That adds up to 49 years of fishing knowledge.

Buy $10 worth of tackle at Tim’s and you will get a couple hundred dollars of fishing knowledge thrown in.  Live advice.  No CD, no DVD, no memory stick. It’s just Tim’s way with words of wisdom, face to face.  Even if you don’t buy anything, you still get a couple of hundred dollars worth of knowledge and tips just by walking around at Tim’s Fly Shop.

Tim and Tim’s Fly Shop is one of too few.   Tim is so informative.

Question:  Other than Roaring River in Missouri where else do you like to fish?

Tim:  I like Montauk Trout area in Missouri.  It is the headwaters of the Current River and not many people know me there so I can just fish and enjoy.  I also like to float Missouri streams to catch and always release smallmouth.

Question:  Where do you like to fish outside Missouri?

Tim:  New Zealand, it is a favorite, beautiful country, friendly people and great trout fishing.

I also like the Western US.  There are some great places in the west.

Question:  What do you enjoy the most about running Tim’s Fly Shop?

Tim:  Helping people learn how to fish and catch trout. The best is teaching younger people how to fly fish and get good at it. I have taught kids to fly fish who are now Dad’s and they now bring their kids in for me to work with and teach.

Tim’s Fly Shop is like going to visit with a friend at your home. I have to stop there every time I drive by.

Question: What is your fondest memory of running Tim’s Fly Shop?

Tim:  I worked with a young man name Trent from Springfield for several years teaching him how to be a very good angler.  He wrote me a full length sincere letter thanking me for that.  It was special to receive that letter.

If you love camping, hiking, trout fishing and nature, Roaring River State Park in Missouri is one very special place to visit.  When you visit, be sure to stop by that special place called Tim’s Fly Shop, it’s located on the lower northwest side of the park on Highway 112.  On Wednesday, the shop is closed and you won’t find Tim.  He may be somewhere with rod in hand accumulating more knowledge about fishing that he will be more than ready to share with you on Thursday.

You can email Tim at timsfly@hotmail.com, but the best bet is stop in at his store address: Tim’s Fly Shop, 233387 State Hwy 112, Cassville, Missouri, 65625, or call to be sure if you are traveling, call at 417-847-4956.

For lodging, campground and park information for Roaring River State Park, call 417-847-2330

Giant Paddlefish Make “Show-Me” Memories

Posted on by Brent Frazee

By Brent Frazee

Welcome to fishing’s version of blue-collar labor.

Giant Paddlefish from Missouri waters are fun to catch, but any good fisherman won’t complain about the sore muscles. Brent Frazee Photo

You won’t find wrapped bass boats, glitzy weigh-in ceremonies or fishing jerseys filled with patches here.

Neither will you find bait buckets, ultralight rods or tackle boxes filled with the latest lures.

When you go paddlefish snagging, life is really quite simple. You rig up with the biggest rods and reels, weights and treble hooks you own, and you go trolling.

The object? To hit a giant snag, one of the biggest fish roaming Missouri waters.

“It isn’t easy work,” said Tracy Frenzel of Kirbyville, Mo., who guides for paddlefish on Table Rock Lake. “After you spend a couple hours jerking those big hooks through the water, you feel it in your back, your shoulders, your arms.

“But once you hook up with one of those monsters, you forget about all of that.”

That’s the lure that draws thousands of fishermen to Table Rock, Lake of the Ozarks and Truman lakes each spring.  They dream of catching one of the biggest, baddest fish residing in Missouri.

 How big? Well, the Missouri state record, caught in 2015 at Table Rock, weighed 140 pounds, 9 ounces. Before that, the mark stood at 139 pounds, 4 ounces. That fish also was snagged at Table Rock, in 2002.

Are there bigger ones out there? Frenzel would like to think so.

At this time of the year, he is busy guiding clients in the paddlefish-rich waters of the James River arm of Table Rock, hoping to get them into one of those dream fish.

Because paddlefish are filter feeders and eat primarily plankton, Frenzel leaves the lures and bait buckets home.  This is “mano to fish” type of fishing.  You snag them and winch them in, or you go home.

Frenzel and others slow-troll big treble hooks and weights through the water and hope to be in the right place at the right time.

”It can be a game of millimeters,” Frenzel said. “You can be dragging those big hooks through the water and be just inches away from the fish, and you’d never know it. “

The new fish locators increase the odds, Frenzel said.  They etch a clear picture of a paddlefish, with its big snout, on the screen.  Then it’s a matter of getting lucky enough to hook up with one of those fish.

Frenzel knows the excitement of catching a 100-pound fish.  He took his family snagging several years ago, when he felt his hooks come to an abrupt halt.

“I was steering the boat with one arm, snagging with the other,” Frenzel said. “It hit so hard that it hyperextended my elbow.

“I fought that fish for 25 minutes, but I was finally able to get it in.  I was out of commission because of my elbow for the next few days, but it was worth it.”

Frenzel has guided customers to big fish, too.  A couple earlier this spring had a day to remember.

“The woman had never been snagging before,” Frenzel said.  “She ended up snagging an 80-pound paddlefish.  Her husband had been before, but he said he had never caught anything that big.”

Frenzel said the best paddlefish snagging is just starting.  With the recent rains that have created flow in Table Rock’s tributaries and the rising water temperatures, the big females are just starting to make their spawning run.

The snagging season on Table Rock and its tributaries runs through April 30, so there is plenty of time.

Snaggers can thank the Missouri Department of Conservation for the big fish they are chasing.  At one time, Missouri had a self-sustaining population of paddlefish, but once the dams went in, they blocked the fish’s spawning migrations and populations dipped.

The Department of Conservation compensates for those losses by raising thousands of fish in their hatcheries and stocking them in Table Rock, Lake of the Ozarks and Truman.

Missouri is now known nationally for its snagging opportunities and the sport continues to grow in popularity.

“I remember when I was a kid and my uncle would show me pictures of fish he snagged,” Frenzel said. “They were only 30 pounds or so, but I thought they were giants.

“Now, we regularly catch fish 50, 60 pounds and some bigger.”

For information on Frenzel’s Guide Service, go to the website www.fishingbranson.com or call Frenzel at 417-699-2277

Spring Fever, a Highly Contagious Disease in Missouri

Posted on by Brent Frazee
This is the time of the year when wild turkeys cause a Missouri hunter’s heart to race.

By Brent Frazee

Once the weather warms, the fish and wild turkeys start stirring, morels starting popping up, the redbud and dogwoods trees bud out.

It’s time to head outdoors!

Where? Here are some places in Missouri where spring is in full display.

  1. TURKEY HUNTING AT TRUMAN LAKE: This massive reservoir in west-central Missouri also has a massive chunk of public land surrounding it. It attracts a lot of hunters, but then, there are a lot of turkeys hiding in the heavy timber.  Hunters who do best get away from the crowds.  A tip: Scout by boat and get back into areas often accessible only by water.  Once you locate birds, slip into the area the next morning, beach your boat and set up in a likely looking strut zone.  It’s work, but it can pay off.
  2. CRAPPIE FISHING AT SMITHVILLE LAKE: The crappies at this reservoir near Kansas City generally spawn a little later than they do at places such as Truman or Lake of the Ozarks.  But fishermen with patience can find outstanding fishing.  The peak of the spawn at Smithville generally takes place in early May.  And it can be outstanding.  Fishermen in coves fish from the bank and boat to catch stringers of big fish.

    As guide and lure manufacturer Jim Dill can attest, Lake of the Ozarks is a hot spot for spring bass fishing.
  3. BASS FISHING AT LAKE OF THE OZARKS: This big reservoir in central Missouri is an old-timer, but it continues to produce amazing bass fishing. A 10-pound bass was caught last spring and many fish exceeding the 5-pound mark have already been caught this year.  Head to the back of coves and pockets with gravel banks and look for spawning beds.  Use Senkos or Flukes and target the nests the bass have built.  Then hold on.
  4. WHITE-BASS RUN AT OZARK RESERVOIRS: Ozark reservoirs such as Table Rock, Bull Shoals, Stockton and Pomme de Terre are nationally known for their spring white-bass fishing. When the water warms and there is enough flow in rivers, the whites head up the tributaries to spawn.  Hit it right, and you can experience some fantastic fishing.  But you better hurry.  The run is in full force, and it generally only lasts several weeks.
  5. EXPLORING AT ECHO BLUFF STATE PARK: This state park captures the rugged beauty of the Missouri Ozarks at its finest. One of the newest additions to the Missouri State Park system, it is carved out of a wilderness-type setting with thick timber, rock formations and a scenic creek.  The state park features a luxury lodge at the edge of Sinking Creek and Echo Bluff, for which the parks was named.  But for the more adventurous, there are plenty of campsites, hiking trails and a chance to view unusual wildlife such as wild horses.  The landscape is alive in the spring with blooming redbud and dogwood trees.

    Echo Bluff State Park in the Missouri Ozarks offers breathtaking scenery and plenty of options for outdoor recreation in the spring.
  6. CAMPING AT BENNETT SPRING STATE PARK: One of Missouri’s oldest state parks, Bennett is also one of the most popular parks in the state.  The main attraction, of course, is the trout fishing.  The Department of Conservation stocks the stream with trout each day of the season, and the fishing is outstanding.  Many visitors like to stay in campgrounds, either pitching a tent or staying in an RV just a long cast away from the beautiful trout stream.  The park also has cabins for rent,
  7. PADDLEFISH SNAGGING AT TABLE ROCK LAKE: Want to catch the fish of a lifetime? Try Table Rock Lake during the paddlefish snagging season, which lasts through the end of April.  The James River arm is loaded with big fish.  In fact, the last two state records, both fish exceeding 100 pounds, came from Table Rock.
  8. HIKING AT JOHNSON’S SHUT-INS STATE PARK: This state park, set in the St. Francois Mountains of eastern Missouri south of St. Louis, is filled with geological wonders. The shut-ins got their name from a portion of the Black River where the rushing current flows through a maze of boulders and rocks, creating a series of mini waterfalls and pools.  That makes it one of the most popular swimming spots in Missouri.  All access points to the shut-ins are temporarily closed due to high water, but that should ease as spring progresses.  A trail system provides beautiful views for everyone from those seeking a short outing to backpackers who desire a long-distance trek.
  9. CANOEING ON THE CURRENT RIVER: This beautiful, clear-water Ozark’s river is often jammed with canoes and kayaks in the middle of summer. But it shows its peaceful side in spring, especially on weekdays.  The steep hillsides are splashed with the pink of redbuds, the white of dogwoods, and the green of other trees.  Bluffs glisten in the spring sun and the gurgle of riffles add to the solitude.  Canoe-rental businesses are available in Eminence, Van Buren and Akers Ferry as well as other locations along the river.
  10. MOREL HUNTING: Once the weather warms and a few timely rains add moisture to the woods, these tasty mushrooms start popping up and set off a giant treasure hunt.  Morel hunting has become a popular pastime unto itself, with thousands of Missourians taking to the woods each spring.  Most public and federal lands with timber have morels.  You just have to beat others to them once they pop up.

 

Early Smallmouths – Tricks, Lessons, Lore and Fun

Posted on by Jim Low
All we caught the day we fished were smallish bronzebacks and bucketmouths like this one held by Will Rollins.

By Jim Low

April is, indeed, the cruelest month for those of us who live to wade-fish for smallmouth bass in skinny water.  Small streams that teem with bronzebacks in July are strangely empty this time of year.  That’s because smallmouths migrate downstream in the winter.  If they didn’t, they would be trapped in dwindling pools that freeze from top to bottom in the depths of winter.  They start returning when spring freshets pump warm water into the veins of Missouri’s headwater streams.  But wade-fishing is largely futile until late April and doesn’t fully measure up until the middle of May.

Most hard-core wade fishers grew up without access to boats.  The upside to this is that we learned to catch smallies in places where boat-bound anglers can’t go.  The downside is that we never learned how to catch smallmouths in larger streams.  So, I was genuinely excited when fellow smallmouth addict and Share the Outdoors reader, Dan Reiter, invited me on a guided smallmouth trip on the middle Gasconade last week.  I have paddled this water a few times but haven’t spent enough time there to figure out seasonal fishing patterns.  Will Rollins, who guides fishing trips out of Vienna, Mo., had called Dan and said conditions should be perfect for smallmouths to begin running.

That was enough to induce Dan to make the trip from his home in Afton, and he said I was welcome to tag along.  Our rendezvous was at mid-morning, March 24, at Moreland’s Catfish Patch and Steak House, where there is a private access just upstream from the Highway 63 bridge.  From there, we headed downstream to a series of creek mouths where Will said fat bronzebacks would be gathering for the next stage of their spring migration up into spawning areas.

Dan Reiter scanned the river from his “catbird seat” as we motored between widely separated smallmouth hot spots.

The sky was overcast and the temperature was in the low 50s, which was pleasant enough if you had a fleece jacket and a wind-proof shell.  There were a few sprinkles of rain early, but not enough to dampen our spirits.  The river was up five or six feet as a result of recent rain.  The water level was falling, which Will said was perfect, allowing the relatively clear water of feeder streams to mingle with muddy river water at creek mouths.  That interface, said Will, was where we would find the fish.

Action was slow at the first creek.  We threw scarlet-colored pot-bellied crankbaits and white, twin-tailed grubs all around the mouth of the creek, catching only a few small largemouth bass.  Thinking the fish might have moved on upstream, we pushed up into the creek as far as fallen timber would permit.  We found only more small largemouths hanging in pockets of cover, waiting to ambush passing prey.  Time passed quickly, though, with good-natured banter and the getting-acquainted conversation that naturally accompanies a fishing trip with new friends.

Will was perplexed.  Everything looked right to him, other than the apparent absence of fish.  We eventually caught one small bronzeback, but nothing like what Will had predicted.  He began to second-guess himself, wondering if we might be a day early.  We moved downstream a few miles to another creek that he knew was a proven producer, but the situation there was the same.  It was time to pull out all the stops.  We motored even farther downstream, practically to the Conservation Department’s Paydown Access.  Here another creek created a broad, shallow slough with a network of willow-lined channels.  The upstream edge between the slough and the Gasconade’s main channel featured a long, sloping gravel bank where fish could lie in clear creek water, just out of the river’s muddy current.  If we didn’t catch fish here, said Will, we wouldn’t catch them anywhere.

We didn’t.

We hit one more creek mouth on the 17-mile run back to where we put in, but the news there was the same.  By then Will was fully convinced that we had arrived 24 hours too soon.  The river needed to fall another foot or two before fish really moved into creeks.  He had another client the next day, and he planned for them to fish the same places we had fished.  He was sure the story would be very different.  “I’ll send you pictures,” he promised.

Did he ever.  Throughout the next day, I got texts from Will, each accompanied by a photo of progressively larger smallmouths, proudly displayed in the same spots Dan and I had fished.  It was a clear case of “You shoulda been here tomorrow.”

Will was correct in his prediction that fishing would improve the day after we fished. This is one of three fat bronzebacks he boated and sent me pictures of the next day (March 25).

What I got from the day actually was better than catching fish.  I got to see where and how Will catches late-winter smallies and learned his insights about where, when and how to fish for them.  “Give a man a fish, and he will eat for a day.  Show him how to fish, and he will go back and catch them on his own.”

I also got to visit Will’s base of operations, Vienna Marine.  It’s on the east side of Highway 63 right in the middle of town.  The place is absolutely jammed, not only with fishing gear, but archery and other hunting equipment, too.  Next time I want to catch smallmouth or goggle-eye on the middle Gasconade River, this is where I will to stop for the latest fishing information and stock up on whatever the fish are biting on.  I might even book a guided trip for another lesson in seasonal smallmouth tips.

-end-

Morel Tales to Tell a Spring Story

Posted on by Jim Low
Prospects for finding morels aren’t great, while Dutchman’s Breeches remain dewy fresh.  Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

Mushroom season is almost here, and as usual, I got the itch to hunt for them weeks ahead of their appearance.  My rational side told me that the last week of March is ridiculously early to hope to find the big yellow morels that haunt my vernal dreams.  But, as usual, Excitable Me overruled Rational Me.

In defense of Excitable Me, this year has provided extra reasons for jumping the gun.  For one thing, we had weeks of April weather in February and early March.  On top of that, I heard some credible reports of people finding morels a few weeks ago.  I got seriously itchy feet when the mercury topped 85 degrees on several days.  All it took to push me over the edge was the 2 inches of rain that fell Friday and Saturday.  I was out the door early Sunday morning to beat others to my favorite “shrooming” grounds in the Missouri River bottoms.

The temperature hovered around 50 degrees, and low, dense clouds held the promise of more rain.  Those conditions were nearly identical to the day last spring when I found a small bonanza of plump, succulent yellow morels and a scattering of little grays.  Heading out the door, I could practically smell them sizzling in the skillet.  I was sure this was my lucky day.

This unopened Trillium flower was trying to tell me something, it’s too early.  Jim Low Photo

The only footprints I found in “my” morel hot spot on public land belonged to white-tailed deer.  Great!  My early start had put me ahead of the competition.  Many of my would-be rivals no doubt still sat in uncomfortable church pews, while I strolled through a cathedral of towering oaks and maples.  But as I scanned leaf-littered bottoms, I recognized some not-so-encouraging signs.

Adam-and-Eve Orchid is the only plant that I have absolutely come to associate with morel patches.  Jim Low Photo

First was the fact that Dutchman’s Breeches and Toothwort were everywhere.  These delicate plants generally follow close on the heels of Hepatica, the earliest of Missouri’s spring blossoms.  They generally are on their way out by the time I find morels.  My optimism mushroomed temporarily when I began noticing Trillium and May Apple.  These two wildflowers have been associated with past morel finds, but as I continued walking I realized that these were the first of their kind to sprout.  None of the Trillium blossoms were open and the May Apples weren’t even showing flower buds.  By the time I find morels, these plants are in full bloom and stand 12 to 18 inches tall.  These had only poked their heads three or four inches above the leaf litter.

These May Apples hadn’t even unfolded their umbrellas on Sunday.  Jim Low Photo

Sweet William is another wildflower I associate with morel season.  This wild version of garden phlox grows in luxuriant stands when I’m finding morels, but on Sunday morning, I saw only one.  It was still shorter than a big morel and all but a couple of its blossoms were wrapped tight as cigars against the morning chill. 

With flagging confidence, I headed for the spot that produced last year’s bounty and that has been a reliable morel producer year in and year out.  The distinctive, striated leaves of Adam-and-Eve orchids greeted me, proving that the creek bottom’s loamy soil was healthy as ever.  My most productive morel patches all support this plant, also known as putty root.  But today, Adam and Eve had no delectable company.  I finally had to admit that I’d jumped the gun again, but I continued to hold out hope for finding a handful of small but delicious early gray morels.

Most of the blossoms on this Sweet William plant were shut tight against the early-morning chill.  Jim Low Photo

I’m sure that someone somewhere in Missouri found mushrooms that morning.  Sadly, that person was not me and as I trudged homeward, I began to dread the hopeful query that would greet my return: “Did you find any!?” To redeem myself, I stopped at Central Dairy, a Jefferson City institution, and bought ice cream.  That and a brisk hike with a sound track provided by cardinals and titmice, is reward enough for the time being.  I will watch the wildflowers around the house in the coming weeks.  When the Sweet William brushes my knees, I’ll pull on my hiking boots and stuff my pockets with plastic grocery bags, sure as ever that this is my day.

I’d advise you to do the same.  It’s spring!

Fire!

Posted on by Jim Low

It’s not a four-letter word if you are trying to maintain high-quality habitat.

It’s a prescription for healthy wildlife

A drip torch is an indispensable tool for setting fires quickly and efficiently, allowing land owners to conduct controlled burns with fire. The Burn allows Nutrient Cycling, Invasive Plant Displacement and Healthy New Growth, and is a Prescription for the Health of Fish, Flora, Fauna and Wildlife. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

They probably didn’t understand the role of fire in nutrient cycling, but they knew that fire renewed landscapes.  They might not have known that periodic removal of dead vegetation from ground level makes it easier for quail to move and find food beneath the protective canopy of new growth, but you can bet they knew that bobwhite cocks called more often on land that had been blackened by fire the previous spring.

Modern-day land managers have new reasons for using fire.  Introduced plants like fescue grass, bush honeysuckle and sericea lespedeza can displace native flora, turning once-productive fields and forests into wildlife deserts.  When applied at the right time of year, fire is a powerful tool for controlling these pests and improving hunting.  In marshes, fire releases nutrients and sets back cattails and other native plants that can blanket wetlands, making them useless to mallards, Canada geese and shorebirds.  Invasion by woody plants is a problem faced by prairie and wetland managers alike, and here again, fire is a highly effective process treatment.  Fire also is less expensive than mowing, disking or other mechanical methods of creating the patchwork of exposed water and vegetation of different heights that spells “H-O-M-E” to migrating wildfowl.

Despite the brisk morning air, my back was starting to sweat as I stepped lively along the edge of 20 acres of tinder-dry foxtail, cordgrass, ragweed and fescue grass.  Moments later, the breeze picked up and heat blazed on the exposed back of my neck.  A growing roar told me I needed to pick up the pace, and soon I was almost trotting as I trailed a drip torch behind me.  Another 200 yards and I closed a circle of flame around the field.  I traded the torch for a gas-powered leaf blower to snuff out errant fires kindled by embers carried aloft on the wind.

One key to controlling a prescribed fire is starting with a backfire on the downwind side and then encircling the area with flame, so it burns itself out somewhere in the middle.  Jim Low Photo

Such spot-over fires were few, thanks to careful planning.  With time to enjoy the results of our work, my partners and I pulled out cell phones for photos and video of the spectacle.  Flames leapt 50 feet in the air, creating a true fire storm.  The plume of smoke from our little field soared thousands of feet into the cloudless sky.  Eleven-year-old Emmett Wright was too awed by the power of the blaze to do much besides repeatedly exclaiming, “Whoa!”

Within minutes, the field that had been clogged with dead vegetation was a study in black and gray.  A casual observer might think torching a field was easy or irresponsible.  This fire was neither.  The wide swaths of bare ground surrounding the field were the result of year-round work, mowing and re-mowing to create fuel-free zones capable of stopping a fire after its work was done.  Our burn boss, Emmett’s grandpa, Brad Wright, pored over weather forecasts for weeks, watching for a combination of wind speed and direction and relative humidity that would allow us to burn several sections of our 200-acre duck and upland game hunting club without endangering neighboring property.

There were false starts.  We set a burn date two weeks earlier, only to have our plans ruined by a sleet storm that blew up at the last minute.  We were ready to burn again the following week, and again, the forecast seemed perfect.  But two days beforehand, the U.S.  Weather Service revised the forecast to include strong, gusty wind and dangerously low humidity.  Officials in neighboring counties issued burn bans.  Starting a fire under those conditions would have been reckless and could ruined the reputation we have been re-building with the Chariton County Fire Department since an unfortunate incident a few years ago, which we no longer mention – except to razz Brad.

But last Saturday was finally right.  We would have preferred a southerly wind, which would have allowed us to burn all our upland acres and most of the marsh.  As it was, we got about half the upland and a third of the marsh burned.

You might wonder why we would give up a Saturday to burn a bunch of grass and cattails.  In a word, “habitat.” We want our 200 acres to be as attractive and productive as possible for ducks, geese, quail, rabbits, deer, turkey, beavers, muskrats, otters, herons, snipe, bass, catfish, and the whole array of wild things that inhabit healthy land and water.  One of the surest ways to achieve this is with carefully planned burning.

The human inhabitants of North America have used fire in this way from time immemorial.  The first Americans knew that burning let the sun warm the ground earlier, and that deer, turkey, elk and bison would quickly arrive to take advantage of the resulting flush of succulent new growth.  They probably didn’t understand the role of fire in nutrient cycling, but they knew that fire renewed landscapes.  They might not have known that periodic removal of dead vegetation from ground level makes it easier for quail to move and find food beneath the protective canopy of new growth, but you can bet they knew that bobwhite cocks called more often on land that had been blackened by fire the previous spring.

Even a relatively small fire seems impressive close-up, or when you see the plume of smoke from a distance. Always notify fire officials ahead of time, or you might be billed for an unnecessary visit when neighbors call 911.  Jim Low Photo

Modern-day land managers have new reasons for using fire.  Introduced plants like fescue grass, bush honeysuckle and sericea lespedeza can displace native flora, turning once-productive fields and forests into wildlife deserts.  When applied at the right time of year, fire is a powerful tool for controlling these pests and improving hunting.  In marshes, fire releases nutrients and sets back cattails and other native plants that can blanket wetlands, making them useless to mallards, Canada geese and shorebirds.  Invasion by woody plants is a problem faced by prairie and wetland managers alike, and here again, fire is a highly effective process treatment.  Fire also is less expensive than mowing, disking or other mechanical methods of creating the patchwork of exposed water and vegetation of different heights that spells “H-O-M-E” to migrating wildfowl.

Fire is an important part of management plans that the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) and the Natural Resources Conservation Service helped us develop for our marsh, prairie and woodland acres.  Because it’s part of a formal plan, such use of burning is usually called “prescribed” fire.  Learning to burn safely and effectively isn’t simple.  That is why MDC offers prescribed fire workshops throughout the state each year.  With the knowledge gained in these workshops, and with management plans prepared in cooperation with wildlife professionals, you can make your little bit of hunting heaven the best it can be.  To learn more about the possibilities, visit MDC’s web page for private landowners.

What looks like utter devastation rapidly turns into a verdant field that draws wildlife like a magnet. Jim Low Photo

 

 

Meeting the Next Challenge: Chronic Wasting Disease

Posted on by Jim Low

• Once again, it’s time for Missourians to stand up for wild resources
• White-tail Deer Herd in Trouble
• Missouri Constitution Change Required, Needs Voter Help

By Jim Low

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

The growing menace posed by chronic wasting disease (CWD), if left unchecked, will ultimately destroy Missouri’s wild deer resource.  If you have any doubt about this, read up on either of these two links:

Unlike blue tongue and other familiar deer diseases, CWD’s spread is inexorable.  CWD is 100 percent fatal.  There is no cure or vaccine.  It is slow, but after it is well-established, it is only a matter of time until deer numbers decline drastically.

The only hope of preventing this awful scenario is quick action to limit the spread of CWD.  So far, all of Missouri’s CWD outbreaks have occurred near captive-deer operations where deer are shipped in and out – a practice made to order for spreading CWD.  The Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) has done its best to regulate such facilities to prevent the spread of the disease, but its efforts have been stopped cold.  Political pressure has eroded MDC’s regulatory authority over deer, which it now shares with the Mo. Dept. of Agriculture.  Agriculture officials are not governed by an independent citizen commission, and they are not obligated to protect wildlife.  And the Missouri Legislature holds the Agriculture Department’s purse strings, so state agriculture officials are inclined to do what legislators want.

A bit about history.  In 1935, Missourians realized that politicians couldn’t or wouldn’t protect the state’s wildlife.  To fix the problem, they amended the state’s constitution, giving authority for managing the state’s wild resources to a non-partisan, citizen commission that we know today as the Missouri Conservation Commission.  It was the first time in history that a state or nation had replaced politics with science as the basis for resource management.  Over the following 80 years, however, we have grown complacent, forgetting another famous adage: The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.

Political influence is like water.  Eventually, it finds its way into everything.

Eight decades after the creation of the MDC, politics once again has seeped into the water-tight system Missouri’s conservation pioneers tried to create.  If it isn’t stopped, the results will be catastrophic.  That is why, at its annual meeting last weekend, the Conservation Federation of Missouri (CFM) passed a resolution that could mark another watershed in conservation history.

The resolution came out of the Conservation Federation of Missouri (CFM) Deer, Turkey and Furbearer Committee.  It puts CFM – representing more than 80 affiliated groups and more than 100,000 individual members – on record in support of a new effort to amend the Missouri State Constitution.  The goal this time is to stop political incursions that threaten the future of Missouri’s white-tail deer herd.

The resolution and the initiative petition drive it supports have deep historical resonance.  CFM was the organization that spearheaded the 1936 initiative petition drive that established the Conservation Commission.  Forty years later, CFM lead another initiative petition drive to provide stable, permanent funding for conservation.  And now, another 40 years down the road, Missourians again are rising up to tell politicians to keep their hands off our precious wild resources.  There seems to be a 40-year cycle for conservation action in the Show-Me State.

What authority MDC has left was cancelled out last year by a court order in a lawsuit brought by captive-deer breeders who don’t like MDC regulations. 

Meanwhile the Missouri Legislature currently is busy with legislation that would take regulation of captive deer and elk operations out of MDC’s hands entirely.  The result would be shipping deer willy-nilly around the state with the predictable consequence of accelerating the spread of CWD.

MDC might prevail in the lawsuit, but even if it does, effective action to stem the tide of CWD could come too late.  And even if the lawsuit was resolved in MDC’s favor tomorrow, the Missouri Legislature undoubtedly will continue chipping away at MDC’s ability to respond.  And there’s no guarantee that the captive-deer industry won’t continue to stymie regulatory efforts with lawsuit after lawsuit.

As in 1936, the only sure-cure solution to save the Missouri white-tail deer herd for future generations is to express the will of the people in the Missouri Constitution.

That’s what the initiative petition drive that just won the support of the CFM aims to do.  If the petition garners enough signatures, Missourians will get to vote on the issue in 2018.

Two different approaches are being weighed:

If the effort to revise the Missouri Constitution is to succeed, it must have citizen support.  Later this year, volunteers will be needed to gather signatures on petitions, but what is needed most now is financial support to get the word out.  If you are willing to help, visit fairchasemissouri.com and click on the “donate” link.  You also can follow the effort on Facebook.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.  Today, bringing what we have learned (knowledge) to create a chance for white-tail deer herd survival will require our courage and effort.  Let’s not repeat the history of the early 20th century, when white-tailed deer nearly went extinct.

-end-

Border Collies vs. Tiger Poop

Posted on by Jim Low
Deer are well-nourished in many American yards, but a herding dog, such as a border collie,
could be the solution if deer are damaging your landscape. Photo courtesy of MDC

• Deer Problem: Deer Love Shrubs and Seedlings
• Dogs Love to Chase Deer
• Secret Fence and Dog Collar = Solution

By Jim Low
The remarkable success of Missouri’s deer restoration program has been a godsend for hunters and a huge boost to the state’s economy. Deer hunting alone is a billion-dollar industry in the Show-Me State, and that doesn’t take into account the value of more than 10 million pounds of venison that goes into residential freezers and community food banks each fall. Assigning a conservative price of $5 a pound to this lean, organic, free-range, locally-sourced fat-free meat, puts the total value up around $50 million.
Every story has more than one side, however. If you operate a tree nursery or a fruit orchard, your view of Missouri’s burgeoning deer population is apt to be less rosy. Losses to deer browsing can top 80 percent of tender young saplings, making deer Public Enemy No. 1 for these businesses. Suburban homeowners have a dog in the fight too, as deer find hostas, daffodils and shrubs too tempting to pass up. After replacing your third quince or dogwood seedling, you begin to have more sympathy for nurserymen and less for deer. All this goes a long way toward tarnishing the whitetail’s image as an economic boon.

The last thing the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) wants is for people to regard wildlife as a nuisance. So, several years ago, the agency devoted some of its research budget to developing practical means of protecting commercial and residential plantings from deer. They quickly dismissed various repellents as ineffective or prohibitively expensive. Nurserymen told MDC that herbal extracts, capsaicin – even tiger feces – weren’t just expensive, the deer quickly learned to ignore them. They were ineffective.

MDC Research Biologist Jeff Beringer instead, focused on a more vivid and lasting reminder of one of deer’s natural predators, canines. He put domestic dogs in a plantation of white pine, which for deer, is the equivalent of candy. To keep the dogs inside the plantation, he used an invisible fence. This consists of two parts. One is a circle of wire laid in or on the ground. This “fence” emits a radio signal. The other half of the system is an electronic collar that picks up the radio signal from the ground wire. When the collar senses a weak signal from the wire, it emits a warning tone. As the dog gets closer to the wire, it switches from the warning tone to a mild electric shock.

With patient training, Beringer conditioned the dogs to associate the warning tone with the perimeter wire and an unpleasant shock, keeping the dogs inside the pine plantation. Then it was simply a matter of the dogs doing what dogs do – chasing things. For this purpose, Beringer found that herding breeds, such as border collies, were the best suited to the job. Deer that ventured into the plantation quickly found themselves the objects of barking, nipping attention.
Over the three-year course of the study, pine seedlings sustained an average loss of 13 percent browsing. This compared favorably with a 37-percent loss in plots with no dogs, in which seedlings were sprayed with a commercial deer repellent. The loss in unprotected plots was 56 percent. Beringer also included a pine plantation treated with commercial deer repellent. In that plot, deer ate 37 percent of the seedlings. He found that seedlings in the dog-protected plot sustained less damage and recovered sooner than those in the other two plots. So, apparently deer that were bold and lucky enough to get a few nibbles in the plot protected by Beringer’s trained dogs often had their meals interrupted.

If you own a tree nursery or an orchard, you probably already have found a solution to any challenges posed by deer. On the other hand, if you are like me, and merely own a home surrounded by deer habitat, you might take Beringer’s findings to heart. If you don’t already own a dog, getting one might have benefits not ordinarily associated with canine pets. I have lived in my present home for 22 years. I have hunted deer in my back yard for the entire time, but for the first five years, I didn’t own a dog. Then I bought a retriever and I have had one ever since. When we first moved into our little house in the woods, we occasionally had deer wander through the yard. In contrast, during 17 years of dog ownership, I have seen deer only once. They were three – two fawns and a doe. The fawns were nibbling around the edge of the back yard, while the doe stood, twitching with nerves, a few yards back in the woods. When she refused to follow their lead, the fawns followed her back away from the house – and the scent of a predator.

It’s also worth noting that we have dozens of hostas and shrubs in our yard, along with a vegetable garden, and none have been touched by deer in 17 years. I’m not sure if it’s cheaper to pay for dog food and veterinary bills, or import bales of tiger poop every year, but I do know dogs also are more fun to have around.
Nurserymen looking for a way to protect tree seedlings from voracious deer now turn to man’s best friend.

Missouri Hunters Share the Bounty

Posted on by Jim Low

• Feeding the hungry is a public-private partnership everyone can get behind.

By Jim Low

It started out small.  In 1991, the Columbia Area Archers (CAA) organized an effort to share Missouri’s growing white-tailed deer bounty with indigent families.  Archers who took part in the Charitable Deer Meat Donation Program that year donated venison from their kills to the Ann Carlson Emergency Food Pantry.

Donations that first year totaled a mere 37 pounds, but the amount grew each year.  The program soon attracted the attention of powerful partners.  The Conservation Federation of Missouri saw it as an opportunity for hunters to polish their public image.  The Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) – looking ahead to the time when deer might become so numerous that hunting alone couldn’t keep their numbers in check – saw the program as a way to encourage hunters to shoot more deer.  Bass Pro Shops saw a way of boosting sales of hunting gear, and Shelter Insurance decided it made more sense to harvest deer with guns than with minivans.

The social and economic clout of these partners unleashed a juggernaut that none could have imagined.  CFM took on the job of coordinating STH efforts statewide.  Conservation agents recruited civic clubs, churches, Scout troops and other grassroots organizations to organize local venison donation programs across the state.  These citizen groups worked with food pantries, Salvation Army posts and other charitable organizations to identify needy recipients.  Meat processors were able to employ more workers grinding donated deer into burger in facilities inspected by state health officials.

To encourage hunters to donate whole deer, CFM, MDC, Bass Pro Shops, Shelter Insurance, the National Wild Turkey Federation and other partners ponied up cash to cover the cost of processing.  Archers and firearms hunters, who loved being in the woods but could only eat so much venison, embraced this new, high-minded motive to extend their hunting season.  With all this help and a new, catchier name, Share the Harvest (STH) soon was channeling more than a quarter of a million pounds of meat annually to people who needed it most.  By the time STH turned 20, it had given needy Missourians more than 2 million pounds of lean, organic, free-range meat.  Going into its 25th year, STH has passed the 3 million-pound mark.  That’s 8 million servings.

“It’s a real pleasure for us to see how our little program has grown,” says Denny Ballard, former president of the Columbia Area Archers and one of STH’s founders.  “From that little seed came something that has helped thousands of people in need and will continue doing so for many years.”

STH was a godsend to food banks through the relatively prosperous 1990s and 2000s.  When the Great Recession bottomed out early in the current decade, STH became an indispensable part of keeping food on Missourians’ tables, especially in hard-hit rural areas.  Unfortunately, the increased need for venison coincided with a dip in deer numbers statewide.  Severe heat and drought in 2012 and 2013 triggered locally devastating outbreaks of blue tongue and the closely related epizootic hemorrhagic disease.  As a result, STH donations have declined, falling below 200,000 pounds for the 2016-17 hunting season.  STH sponsors expect that figure to rebound as deer numbers recover in the areas hardest hit by hemorrhagic diseases.  But this isn’t automatic.  Hunters get into the habit of passing up chances to shoot second or third deer, hoping to aid recovering deer numbers.  So STH donations could lag behind the actual recovery.

As an act of faith, I donated the first deer I shot last year – a fine, fat yearling doe – to STH.  My karmic investment paid off later in the season, when I shot a big-bodied spike buck for my freezer and, later, an even bigger doe, which I gave to friends who let me hunt on their land.  As the alfalfa pasture behind my house greens up, I’m seeing lots of deer, which promises another productive deer season ahead.

If you hunt deer, keep STH next fall.  Details about how to donate a deer are contained in the annual Fall Deer and Turkey Hunting Regulations and Information booklet, or on this link at MDC’s STH page.

Winter Trout – Another Kind of Madness!

Posted on by Jim Low

Rainbow trout tend to be fat and feisty at Lake Taneycomo.

Rainbow trout tend to be fat and feisty at Lake Taneycomo.

By Jim Low

In most of the United States, “March Madness” refers to basketball.  In Missouri, the term has a whole different meaning for trout anglers.  March 1 marks the opening of the regular fishing season at Missouri’s four trout parks.  On that day, depending on weather and what day of the week March 1 falls on, between 8,000 and 10,000 cabin-fevered trout devotees jam the banks of spring branches around the state.  At Bennett Spring State Park (SP) near Lebanon, Montauk SP near Licking, Roaring River SP near Cassville and Maramec Spring Park near St. James, most will be giddy about escaping the confines of home and office.  Anglers for the most part, cheerfully untangle crossed lines and enjoy a bonhomie that transcends petty differences of religion and politics.

While I am not immune to the party atmosphere of opening day at trout parks, I generally prefer a slightly less frenetic experience.  I also enjoy catching and releasing lots of trout during an outing and if there’s a chance of boating a world-record brown trout, well, that’s not a bad thing either.

A boat ramp just below Table Rock Dam allows boater access to Taneycomo’s trout.

Taneycomo is a hybrid lake of sorts.  While it’s called a lake and there is a dam at its lower end, Taneycomo always has at least a little current.  And when the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers is releasing water through Table Rock Dam, which marks Taneycomo’s upper limit, it’s a regular river of water cold enough to have come from an Ozark spring.

Besides a continuous supply of cold water, Taneycomo has an abundance of fresh-water shrimp, more accurately called “scuds.” These, along with hatches of midges, mayflies, gnats, and other insects, are the foundation of a food pyramid that produces an astonishing growth of trout stocked by the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC).  The food is so abundant, it supports monthly stockings of 35,000 to 80,000 rainbow trout, according to seasonal variations in angler numbers.  In addition, Taneycomo gets approximately 10,000 brown trout each winter.

While Taneycomo is largely a put-and-take fishery for rainbow trout, MDC takes advantage of its plentiful natural food base with regulations designed to produce trophy trout.  All brown trout measuring less than 20 inches must be released immediately and you can only keep one brown trout daily.  Rainbow trout between 12 and 20 inches must be released in the portion of the lake from the no-boating or fishing zone below Table Rock Dam downstream to the mouth of Fall Creek.  Also in this stretch, only flies and artificial lures are permitted.  Scented, soft-plastic and natural baits are prohibited.

Missouri’s pole-and-line record brown trout, a 28-pound, 12-ounce behemoth, came from Taneycomo in November of 2009.  In 2013, Mark Clemishire of Skiatook, Oklahoma, landed a monster rainbow trout just below Table Rock Dam.  After measuring and photographing the fish, he did what any serious trout enthusiast would do.  He released it to fight another day.  A formula yielded a probable weight of 20.5 pounds, based on its 31-inch length and 23-inch girth.  That would have bested the state record by 2 pounds, 7 ounces.  Taneycomo also produced a 15-pound, 6-ounce rainbow trout that currently occupies the top slot for alternative fishing methods, in this case, a throwline.  That record has stood since 1971.

The water outlet just below Table Rock Dam is a favorite hot spot for trout anglers. The parking lot is close enough to the water for launching kayaks and canoes.

Knowing all this, it’s no surprise that I look forward to what has become an annual pilgrimage to Lilley’s Landing Resort and Marina on the north bank of Lake Taneycomo and the southern fringe of Brawling Branson, Mo.  I began going to the resort, operated by Phil Lilley and his family, thanks to the Conservation Federation of Missouri, which sponsors an annual gathering of outdoor media there each winter.  In between visiting with old friends and presentations from conservation officials and outdoor manufacturers, we sample Taneycomo’s world-class fishing.

I am not an accomplished fly-fisher, but under the tutelage of Lilley’s guide Duane Doty, I managed to boat more rainbows than I could count.  The hatch was dominated by midges, so we mostly floated #16 primrose-and-pearl colored midge imitations beneath strike indicators.  My last fish of the trip was a battle-scared 16 ¾-inch rainbow.  Since I’ve already admitted to not being the world’s greatest fly-fisher, I’ll go ahead and confess to the unforgiveable sin of killing that big rainbow.  I had promised my wife I would bring home meat and I knew that particular fish, having lived for years on a wild diet, would have meat as pink and delicious as a wild-caught salmon.

I take some comfort in the knowledge that hundreds or thousands of larger trout haunt the depths of Taneycomo.  It’s entirely possible that one is a world record.  And even if you don’t boat a big one, you are pretty sure to land lots of others.  There is a Corps of Engineers boat ramp just below Table Rock Dam.  The immediate area below the dam also has superb wade-fishing.  The water outlet on the north side of the river near the upper parking lot is a favorite hot spot for wader-clad anglers.

Lilley’s Landing Guide Duane Doty, left, and fishing writer John Neporadny show off a nice brown trout that Neporadny landed during CFM’s 2017 Media Event.

Many of the nicely furnished, immaculate rooms at Lilley’s Landing have decks overlooking the lake.  The expert guides and friendly, family atmosphere haven’t given me any reason to look elsewhere when I fish Taneycomo.  I’m sure that other resorts in the area do fine jobs for their clients, too.  You can find them and a bunch of other resorts online.  If you see Phil Lilley, tell him I said hello.  If you have time, visit MDC’s Shepherd of the Hills Hatchery below Table Rock dam and see where the trout you caught were born.

Opening Day Trout Fishing is Just Ahead

Posted on by stoadmin

By Brent Frazee

When Chet Snyder had a seizure in the winter of 2015, he had one pressing question for his doctor.

“Can I go fishing two days from now?”

Understand, this was no ordinary fishing trip.  Snyder was chosen to be the honorary starter of the 2015 trout season at his beloved Bennett Spring State Park in south-central Missouri.  And Snyder considered that a priority.

The doctor gave his approval, so Snyder’s family and friends made sure he got there.

“The doctor said I could go, as long as I didn’t drive,” said Snyder, now 82 and living in Grandview, Mo.. “That wasn’t a problem.  So, I made it to another opener.”

By that point, fishing the trout opener had become tradition for Snyder.  He and his good friend, Tom Harber, had attended every opener together since 1956.

The plan that day called for Snyder to sound the opening siren and for Harber to sound the closing signal.  But Harber’s failing health didn’t allow him to attend, so Snyder was a one-man show.

Harber passed away in 2016, leaving a huge void in Snyder’s life.  But he still has plenty of great memories and he plans to carry on with tradition.

A large photo of Snyder sounding the siren to open the 2015 trout season is a centerpiece in his home, a reminder of the day he was a celebrity at the park he loves.

“That really was a special day,” Snyder recalled.  “It was cold and snowy and it wasn’t easy getting down there.

“But fishing the opener is about tradition.  No matter what Mother Nature throws at you, you have to be down there.”

Few fishermen have followed that tradition as long as Snyder has. He has been going to Bennett Spring since his childhood days, when he would tag along with his mom and dad to the beautiful park.

Bennett was far different then. In the 1930s, the Civilian Conservation Corps worked to build some of the stone buildings, cabins, bridges and roads that still cut through the park.

Crowds were nowhere near as large as they are today, and the fishing was far different, though the waters were still stocked by the state.

“I remember falling off a stool and cracking my head open,” Snyder recalled. “There was a doctor there and he stitched me up, and we went on fishing.”

Snyder also remembers one of the first days he helped with the driving.

“I was 16 and I had just started driving,” he said with a laugh. “I was driving home while my dad slept.

“Well, it started snowing and the roads got icy. My dad woke up and he said, ‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’ “

Snyder’s wife, Jo Ann, also remembers another opening day, when she felt obligated to go with the guys to see what the excitement was all about.

“It was in 1958, a year after we got married, and it was cold,” she said.  “We tried to sleep in a pup tent, but it was so cold that we couldn’t get to sleep.

“So we were up all night, staying by the fire.”

Jo Ann tried fly fishing for the first time the following morning, but it wasn’t a great experience.

“I hooked more men than trout,” she said. “That was it for me.”

Jo Ann still looks forward to March 1, when her husband can join thousands of others at Missouri’s four trout parks – Bennett Spring, Roaring River, Montauk and Maramec Spring —  for the opener.

“March first is always a big day around here,” she said. “Chet’s always back at Bennett, fishing.

“That’s just a family tradition with us.”

 

Brent Frazee retired from The Kansas City Star in 2016 after 36 years as the outdoors editor. You can read more of his work on his website, brentfrazee.com.  He can be reached by emailing brentgonefishing@gmail.com.

Shed the Winter Blahs

Posted on by Jim Low

Finding a shed antler is a thrill on par with being dealt a royal flush. Jim Low Photo

  …by hunting antlers (Jim Low)

Finding a shed antler is a thrill on par with being dealt a royal flush. Jim Low Photo
Finding a shed antler is a thrill on par with being dealt a royal flush. Jim Low Photo

I needed to get out of the house yesterday, so I took a brisk, 3-mile walk on trails at the Missouri Department of Conservation’s (MDC) Runge Nature Center in Jefferson City.  At one point, I spied half a dozen deer.  The three bucks were easy to pick out, because they were still rocking their autumn headgear.  I was a little surprised that all three males still sported antlers.  Missouri whitetails typically begin shedding their antlers around Jan.  1.  That’s one reason why MDC moved the antlerless deer season from early January to early December several years ago.  With the original timing, hunters were legally shooting quite a few bucks that had already dropped their antlers.

Anyway, it got me thinking about hunting for shed antlers.  It’s easy to slip into a cabin-fever rut this time of year, when most hunting seasons are closed.  Shed hunting can be done any time of day.  You can do it on your favorite deer-hunting land or anywhere deer live, which is pretty much anywhere in the state, including suburban parks, wildlife refuges and other areas that aren’t open to hunting.  You don’t need a gun or a permit.  You don’t even have to be a hunter.

The benefits of shed hunting go far beyond gathering dust-catchers for your mantle.  For one thing, it’s a much more pleasant way of getting exercise than grinding out miles on a treadmill in a gym that smells of moldy sneakers.  The off season – when you aren’t spending every spare hour in a tree stand – is a great time to scout new hunting areas.  And shed hunting can turn up useful clues about the size and habits of bucks that survived the past hunting season.

The most basic principle of successful shed hunting is to focus your efforts in areas where deer spend the most time.  Having just undergone the rigors of the rut, bucks are hungry at this time of year, so they are actively feeding.  If you can find standing corn, that is an excellent place to check.  So are grain bins and other places where grain gets spilled on the ground.  Clover and alfalfa pastures are favorite feeding areas, too.  If you planted turnips or other food plots to attract deer, be sure to include those on your rounds.  Orchards and tree plantations are deer magnets as well.  Be sure to thoroughly comb through sumac thickets and other brushy cover adjacent to food sources.  That’s where loosening antlers are most likely to get snagged and pop off.

Next, check travel lanes between food sources, watering spots and bedding areas.  Logging roads, fencerows, utility rights-of-way and streams – even dry washes – tend to funnel deer movement into predictable routes.  Game trails along these landscape features often are as obvious as superhighways, and are worth checking thoroughly.

Cedar thickets are favorite spots for deer to hunker down during severe weather.  Bushwhacking through them can be a challenge if you are standing up, but they are surprisingly open at ground level.  Pick your way through these, pausing every 50 feet or so to get down on your hands and knees and scan the surrounding ground for sheds.

Deer also spend lots of time resting on south- and west-facing slopes at this time of year. It doesn’t seem to matter much whether these slopes are wooded, brushy or covered in prairie grass.  Hillsides with this orientation receive direct sunlight, which helps deer stay warm.  Their elevation allows deer to see approaching danger while they chew their cud and digest food consumed the previous night.  When checking these areas for sheds, start on one side and methodically walk parallel lines until you have scanned the whole area, watching for matted leaves or grass that indicate day beds.

February and March are the best months for shed hunting.  Once antlers hit the ground, they quickly attract mice, squirrels and other rodents that gnaw on them to take advantage of the calcium and other nutrients they contain.  Even deer go after shed antlers, which is an interesting example of recycling.  Nothing goes to waste in nature, and if you want intact sheds, you have to get there first.

Searching for shed antlers is similar to other types of hunting in that the more you do it, the better you become.  Long-time shed hunters sometimes bring home dozens of trophies in a year.  Neophytes aren’t likely to do that well, but be patient and don’t get discouraged if your initial efforts fail to pay big dividends.  Half the fun of shed hunting is having an excuse to get outdoors and seeing things you would never see if you were sitting in front of the television.  On my recent walk, I got to watch a flock of turkeys feeding.  A pair of Cooper’s hawks entertained me with their aerial courtship, and a juvenile barred owl eyed me curiously, but without apparent fear, as I walked beneath its perch.  Those things seem different with a breeze in your face than equivalent views on The Nature Channel.

I didn’t find any sheds on that walk.  But I’ll be back next week, hoping to glimpse a one-antlered buck and turn his loss into my conversation-piece

Duck Ship of Fools

Posted on by Jim Low
The fog might not have contributed to hunting success, but it did create some memorable moments.
The fog might not have contributed to hunting success, but it did create some memorable moments.

By Jim Low

Like a faithless lover, duck hunting is hard to give up on.  I, along with many other Missouri waterfowlers, wrote off the 2016-2017 duck season as a bad job weeks ago.  But when hunting buddy and long-time friend Bill Powell asked me to join him on one last hunt at Pomme de Terre Lake, the siren’s song was irresistible.  Here was a chance to redeem an otherwise disappointing season with a mixed bag of divers and puddle ducks.  Who knew?  Maybe a brace of canvasbacks awaited us.

For STO 01252017, TRENDING NOW-MO, Picture 1of3
Despite difficulties with equipment and fog, we arrived in plenty of time to set up a convincing decoy spread.

A large part of Bill’s motivation lay in testing the blind he was building for his new duck boat.  I might have seen the handwriting on the wall when, the night before our departure, he admitted that work on the blind had not progressed as hoped.  Instead of hunting from the comfort of his boat, we would motor to our chosen spot and hunker down in brush at the water’s edge.

My misgivings vanished when I woke to dress at 2 a.m. and peered out the bedroom window.  The fog was thick enough to stir with a spoon.  Duck weather!  By the time we got to Wheatland Park on Pomme de Terre’s northwestern shore, the air was so thick I had to ground-guide Bill as he backed the trailer down the boat ramp.  Launching the boat turned out to be the least of our problems.  The new 25HP Mercury motor stubbornly refused to catch, despite repeated mental review of the starting checklist.  Tank full?  Check.  Fuel Line connected?  Check.  Vent open?  Check.  Primer bulb pumped and firm?  Check.  But still no ignition.  Ten minutes and several expletives later, Bill discovered the missing item on his list.  Kill switch?  On!  Switch to off position…Varoom!

With motor purring like a contented tiger, Bill turned the bow into…an impenetrable fog bank.  The boat ramp was still visible, so Bill knew which direction was north.  All we had to do was motor three-quarters of a mile due south.  But even in our sleep-deprived condition we were sharp enough to know we would lose our bearings the moment the shoreline disappeared, and Bill’s boat had no compass or GPS unit to guide us.  With the boundless and equally unjustified confidence inspired by technology, I whipped out my smart phone and launched Google Maps.  In seconds, I was looking at a dot (us) moving slowly across the screen headed – due north?

“Turn around!” I shouted over the motor’s roar, fearing we might crash into the shore we had just left.  Bill dutifully turned what he judged to be 180 degrees and soon had us headed – due east.  “Turn right!” I shouted over the motor’s roar.

This went on for five or 10 minutes, until the boat ramp appeared again.  That’s when it dawned on me that the cursor on my phone’s screen had changed from the usual arrow, with its pointy end indicating direction of travel, to a largish dot with a funnel shaped thing protruding from one side.  This led to several questions.  Why had the cursor changed?  Had I accidentally switched a setting?  Did Google Maps automatically make the change when we went from land to water?  From day to night?  Was that funnel supposed to be the wake behind our boat or a beam of light preceding it?

This, in turn, led to several minutes of fumbling with settings, widening and narrowing the view to find landmarks and ordering Bill to go faster, slower, stop, turn left, turn right and stop altogether while I tried to figure out how facts on the water related to the image on my screen.  About this time, Bill looked up and exclaimed, “Oh, there it is!” Apparently I had navigated us – entirely by accident – to the desired spot.  Never ones to look a gift horse in the mouth, we proceeded to transfer our hunting gear to shore so Bill could motor farther down the cove (keeping the shoreline in sight!) and hide the boat.  Meanwhile, I began setting out decoys.

Everything went smoothly until I dumped the bag containing scaup decoys on a 100-foot jerk line.  There was evidence of an elegant scheme to keep decoy cords and the main line orderly.  However, that effort had been defeated by the hurly-burly of tossing decoy bags into and out of truck and boat.  Utter chaos now prevailed, and a pocket knife seemed the only remedy.  Bill set about deploying the other decoys while I applied years of experience with tangled baitcasting reels to the diver rig.  Amazingly, I had it mostly untangled by the time shooting light arrived.

That’s when Bill discovered that he had left our stools and food in the truck.  No matter.  We had managed to remember our guns and ammo, and we had camo netting to drape over buttonbush and willows to create individual blinds.  We were set.  All we needed was ducks.

Late-season hunts on southern Missouri’s big Corps of Engineers reservoirs are most productive when neighboring ponds and streams are frozen.  That had been true the previous week.  However, the past few days had been warm, and puddle ducks now were contentedly preening on a thousand farm ponds.  So, we pinned our hopes on diving ducks, whose preference for big water keeps hunters in business at Pomme de Terre regardless of weather.

We did see a few goldeneyes and ringnecks, but none that showed significant interest in our decoys.  The only shots we fired were at a pair of Canada geese that strayed dangerously close around 8 a.m.  Feathers drifted down as the pair disappeared into the fog.  Moments later, we heard honking out on the water a few hundred yards away.  The distressed calling continued and it seemed clear that one of the birds was down.  Bill hotfooted it back to the boat with his retriever, Hector, and went in search of the crippled bird. They returned empty-handed half an hour later.

Bill’s dog Hector had a great time retrieving sticks while we worked with decoys, and he slept like the dead during the drive home.
Bill’s dog Hector had a great time retrieving sticks while we worked with decoys, and he slept like the dead during the drive home.

Two hours and several decoy adjustments later, we admitted defeat and collected our gear.  As we motored back to the boat ramp, Bill noticed that his shotgun was missing.  Back to the point we went and retrieved the gun in its cunningly camouflaged case.  At least the fog had lifted, and we could find our way without digital assistance.

At the ramp, we experienced what we thought was our final humiliation of the day. Earlier in the morning, when Bill pulled up to park his truck after launching the boat, the fog apparently had confused him so thoroughly that he parked 50 yards too far downhill. As a result, his trailer was blocking half of the boat ramp’s width.  “Did I really do that?” Bill asked in dismay. Yep.  He sure did.  The one boater who arrived after us had kindly refrained from leaving a nasty note or scratches on Bill’s new truck.  But he surely must have had some choice words for the rubes who preceded him.

On our way home, as Hector snoozed contentedly between us, we decided to visit a pond owned by one of my neighbors.  Geese regularly visit there, spreading gooey green poop liberally across lawn and sidewalk.  She is delighted to have me visit periodically and put the fear of God in these feathered manure spreaders.  To simplify our approach, we traded vehicles, putting guns and retriever in my truck for the trip to the pond.

Alas, we found it deserted, dashing our last hope.  I dropped Bill and Hector back at his truck before heading home, ready for a nap.  Then I realized that Bill hadn’t retrieved his shotgun from the back of my truck.  After a quick phone call, we both reversed directions and returned to our rendezvous point to do a final sorting of gear.  He still ended up with my phone charger, but that was small potatoes in the Chinese fire drill that our day had become.

Every hunt creates memories, regardless of whether game is taken.  If nothing else, our last duck hunt of the 2016-17 season resulted in a full limit of stories to tell.

Mountain Lions in Missouri

Posted on by Jim Low

Mountain Lion roams inside an enclosure in Illinois Prairie Zoo.

The discovery of a female mountain lion in Shannon County last month is a recent development in a 20-year saga. Mountain lions undoubtedly will continue to filter into Missouri from western states. The question is whether Missouri will find ways to live with this native species. (Missouri Department of Conservation photo)
The discovery of a female mountain lion in Shannon County last month is a recent development in a 20-year saga. Mountain lions undoubtedly will continue to filter into Missouri from western states. The question is whether Missouri will find ways to live with this native species. (Missouri Department of Conservation photo)

By Jim Low

A famous author once said, “If you build it…”, you know the rest.

Some of the brightest and darkest moments in conservation history have been the result of “unintended consequences.” The attempt to eradicate predators from the Kaibab National Forest in the 1920s was intended to boost deer numbers, but without predators to keep their population in check, deer numbers soared and then crashed, due to disease and starvation.  That’s a classic example of negative unintended consequences of human actions.  However, recent events prove that things can work the other way as well.

In the depths of the Great Depression, Missourians realized that letting the state legislature set hunting and fishing regulations had turned wildlife into a political football.  The results were disastrous.  Deer once had been so common that their hides were a standard unit of monetary value – the “buck.”  But by the 1930s, only a few hundred remained in the state.  Wild turkeys, fish, forests and other wild resources were all in similarly dismal condition.

Outrage over lawmakers’ squandering of the state’s natural legacy prompted citizens to take wildlife management out of politicians’ hands and vest it in an independent conservation agency, what we now call the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC).  Within a few decades, deer once again were numerous enough to support carefully regulated hunting, not to mention today’s $1 billion deer-related recreation and tourism industry.  The story has been much the same for fish, forests and non-game wildlife.  Given a chance to heal, Missouri’s wild places have returned the favor by bouncing back.  In at least one instance, they have done so in a way that no one foresaw.

More than 60 years after the last known mountain lion was killed in Missouri in 1927, MDC reported a series of verified mountain lion sightings.  It started as a trickle.  In 1994, there was a tantalizing case where raccoon hunters killed a mountain lion.  They had a video showing the cat, but they got rid of the carcass before conservation agents apprehended them. In 1996 and 1997, two Missourians captured mountain lions on video.  In 1999 MDC’s Mountain Lion Response Team found tracks where rabbit hunters had reported seeing a cougar.

In the early 2000s, the trickle of verified reports grew to a steady stream, with video, photos and two road-killed mountain lions in four consecutive years.  In 2011, the stream swelled to a flood.  That year, MDC verified 14 mountain lion sightings.  This startling upswing probably was partly due to hunters increasing their use of game cameras, which accounted for half of the sightings.  2012 saw 11 more verified sightings, followed by eight in 2013.  The pace slackened a bit in subsequent years, possibly because the novelty of sightings wore off and people stopped reporting every new one.  Others might have kept sightings to themselves to protect the animals.

What accounts for the return of this top-level predator?  Mountain lions are simply taking advantage of Missouri’s success in restoring their No. 1 food item, white-tailed deer.  Young male mountain lions typically leave their birth areas to escape being killed by dominant adult males and establish their own territories elsewhere.  They can travel hundreds of miles while looking for unoccupied land with sufficient food and female mountain lions to mate with. Female mountain lions are more likely to stay where they were born.  Almost without exception, the mountain lions seen in Missouri have been young males.  This leads MDC to believe that the mountain lions seen here are transients, rather than part of an established, reproducing population.

Young male mountain lions find plenty of deer to eat in Missouri.  Finding mates has been a different matter.  Male cougars that don’t find females tend to keep moving, which accounts for the sporadic nature of documented sightings in Missouri.  Fourteen one year, fewer than half that number two years later.  Sightings scattered around the state. These facts, together with the absence of sightings of mountain lion cubs, was strong evidence that Missouri didn’t have a breeding population…yet.

Things took a new and exciting turn last month, when DNA testing revealed that an elk had been killed by a female mountain lion in Shannon County.  This was only the second confirmed female in Missouri.  The first was an animal whose pelt and head were recovered from a trash dump in Texas County in 1998.  Circumstantial evidence indicated that it might have escaped or been released from captivity.  It might not even have come from Missouri. So, the female cougar documented in Shannon County this year might reasonably be considered Missouri’s first truly free-ranging female mountain lion in 90 years.

This means Missouri could soon have a breeding mountain lion population.  If that happens, it would raise questions about MDC’s policy regarding mountain lions.  In 2006, the Missouri Conservation Commission responded to interest – and concerns – about continuing mountain lion sightings by doing two things.  One was to remove the mountain lion from the state’s endangered species list.  The Commission justified this action by saying that, since there was no evidence of a breeding population in Missouri, the species should more properly be considered extirpated.  This lumped mountain lions in with other species, such as moose and elk, which occasionally wandered into Missouri from other states, but were no longer endemic here.

The Commission’s other action was to issue a policy statement that “it is not desirable to allow the re-establishment of a mountain lion population in Missouri.”  The underlying assumption was that a breeding population of mountain lions was incompatible with Missouri’s level of human settlement.  In other words, Missouri simply didn’t have room enough for humans and their domestic animals to coexist with mountain lions.

I wonder about this.  Nebraska has had female mountain lions since at least 1991.  Breeding has been documented there and a female mountain lion was found in southeastern Nebraska last year.  Granted, Nebraska’s population density is roughly one-third that of Missouri, but the Cornhusker State isn’t exactly wilderness.  And in addition to its human population, Nebraska has 50 percent more cattle than Missouri, according to CattleNetwork.com.  And while wilderness is a scarce commodity in Missouri, it isn’t entirely absent.  The Mark Twain National Forest has seven designated wilderness areas in the Ozarks, encompassing more than 71,000 acres.  It probably is no coincidence that most Missouri’s mountain lion sightings have come from the Ozarks.

If Nebraskans can get along with mountain lions, maybe Missourians can too.  Nebraska held an experimental hunting season in 2015 and hunters harvested five mountain lions.  The hunt drew predictable opposition and the Nebraska Parks and Wildlife Commission is gathering more information about the state’s cougar population before offering another hunting season.  Carefully regulated hunting based on good science is the preferred method of managing wildlife populations in North America, which has a rich tradition of fair-chase hunting.  Missouri already has learned to live with black bears, some of which migrated into the state from Arkansas.  MDC deals with problem bears when necessary and the agency is currently laying the foundation for a science-based hunting season.  It will be prepared when bear numbers reach the point where hunting is sustainable and necessary to prevent unacceptable levels of bear-human conflict, just as it does with white-tailed deer

I understand the concern some Missourians have about allowing the development of a breeding population of mountain lions.  North America’s biggest cat is a formidable predator and you can’t blame parents and ranchers for being concerned.  But it is worth noting that Missouri has never had a documented mountain lion attack on humans.  Even in states with well-established mountain lion populations, attacks are extremely rare. And the Missouri Wildlife Code allows people to kill mountain lions that attack or kill humans, livestock or other domestic animals.

Personally, I’m thrilled to think that I might get to see a mountain lion in the wild here in Missouri.  And it goes against my grain to discourage a native species that is making a natural, unaided comeback as a result of our own work restoring the conditions in which it once thrived. Traffic fatalities resulting from deer-automobile collisions are a much bigger threat to human safety than mountain lion attacks, yet no one seriously suggests getting rid of deer.

I hope Shannon County’s female mountain lion finds a mate and raises a litter of cubs that live long, happy lives.  Imagine watching one of them slip through the woods as you sit in your deer stand.  For me, adding that dimension of wildness to Missouri’s outdoors is worth the minimal risks involved.

Midwinter Flickers and Colorful Woodpeckers

Posted on by Jim Low

Flicker – In the eastern U.S., Male flickers have black moustaches in addition to the red nape patch and yellow feathers.

Flicker – In the eastern U.S., Male flickers have black moustaches in addition to the red nape patch and yellow feathers.
Flicker – In the eastern U.S., Male flickers have black moustaches in addition to the red nape patch and yellow feathers.

By Jim Low

What do you suppose is the most popular wildlife-based activity in Missouri and nationwide? If you guessed deer hunting or bass fishing, you missed the mark.  The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s 2011 survey of outdoor recreation showed that a little more than 1 million Missourians engaged in fishing and spent $505 million doing so.  Missouri’s 576,000 hunters spent $773 million on their sport.  That’s big. But 1.7 million Missourians reported watching wildlife, and they spent $1.2 billion on their hobby, including buying bird food.

I thought of this yesterday, when I bought my 10th 40-pound bag of sunflower seeds since October.  Squirrels get their share of our sunflower largess, but most of that 400 pounds has disappeared down the throats of finches, juncos, doves, cardinals, chickadees, titmice, wrens, nuthatches and blue jays.  It’s amazing that such tiny animals can consume so much food.

Red-Bellied – Red-bellied woodpeckers are slightly smaller than flickers. The reddish-brown tinge on their bellies doesn’t live up to promise of their name.
Red-Bellied – Red-bellied woodpeckers are slightly smaller than flickers. The reddish-brown tinge on their bellies doesn’t live up to promise of their name.

Sunflowers are only part of what we provide.  Cracked corn, millet, sorghum and thistle seed also are on the menu, and I have lost count of how many suet cakes we have gone through.  I would guess it’s more than 50 store-bought cakes, plus several pounds of dense, high-energy fat from deer that I shot.  I don’t want to know how much we will spend feeding birds by the time the nectar feeders come out of storage in the spring.  All I know is that the show is well worth the price of admission.

We used to believe we fed birds to help them get through the winter.  But our friend, the late Jim D.  Wilson, who was Missouri state ornithologist for many years, informed me that was an illusion.  He said birds have plenty of natural food and don’t need handouts from people.  People feed birds, he said, because they love seeing them and want to bring them close enough for a good view.

Lately I’ve been getting a great view of some of my favorite birds, woodpeckers.  I have had a soft spot in my heart for Northern flickers since I was 9 years old and rescued one that had probably had flown into a window or a tree limb and then got so cold sitting in the snow that it couldn’t fly.  We brought it indoors, and an hour later it flew away, apparently as good as new.  That hour of close contact with the pigeon-sized bird made a lasting impression on me.

Our house in the woods has always had an abundance of downy, hairy and red-bellied woodpeckers.  Even the big pileated woodpeckers that frequent our woods pay regular visits to our suet feeders.  But in the past, we hardly ever saw flickers and never a red-headed woodpecker.  This year, for some reason, several flickers have put us on their daily feeding rounds.  This prompted me to set up my camera and tripod.  My office window looks out on several feeders, so I can continue to work, reaching out to touch the shutter release when birds show up.

Hairy – Hairy woodpeckers are smaller than flickers or red-bellies. However, they are larger than downy woodpeckers and have longer, stouter beaks.
Hairy – Hairy woodpeckers are smaller than flickers or red-bellies. However, they are larger than downy woodpeckers and have longer, stouter beaks.

Woodpeckers are a particularly attractive group of birds, but for my money, none is more handsome than the flicker.  It’s also the most widely distributed in North America, with a range extending from north-central Alaska to Nicaragua and from Nova Scotia to Cuba.  Although there is only one species, the flicker shows a surprising variety of color phases across its range.

Eastern flickers are commonly called yellow-shafted or golden-winged flickers or yellowhammers, on account of the yellow shafts and undersides of their flight feathers and the bright yellow shafts of their tail feathers.  Their heads are gray, except for a red band on the nape of the neck.  Their most endearing feature is a black moustache, which only males have.

Out West  flickers’ wing and tail feathers are red instead of yellow, so they are sometimes called red-shafted flickers.  Their heads, necks and throats are uniformly gray, except for males’ moustaches, which are red.  Both sexes lack the red nape patches of their eastern relatives.  In the Southwest, male flickers also have red moustaches.  Both sexes have rusty brown caps, and gray cheeks and throats.  Otherwise, they look just like their neighbors farther north.

The bodies of all three varieties are dappled with jet-black spots.  Their backs are barred, and they have white rump patches that are seen only in flight.  The flicker’s final dramatic touch is a striking black chest patch, which is present in both sexes and all regions.  These are called “gorgets,” a reference to a piece of 18th century armor designed to protect the wearer’s throat.

Downy – Smaller size and delicate beaks distinguish downy from hairy woodpeckers. Otherwise, the two are very similar.
Downy – Smaller size and delicate beaks distinguish downy from hairy woodpeckers. Otherwise, the two are very similar.

Flickers differ from most other woodpeckers in that they spend much of their time foraging for ants and other insects on open ground, often in company of robins or bluebirds.  In areas where trees are not available, they will nest on the ground like nighthawks or killdeers, scooping out shallow depressions in which to lay their eggs.  Our house is surrounded by forest, which is why we haven’t seen much of them before.  I have no explanation for their appearance in numbers this year.

Pileated – The pileated is Missouri’s largest woodpecker – up to 20 inches tall. It’s raucous, “kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk!” sounds like Woody Woodpecker’s wacky call.
Pileated – The pileated is Missouri’s largest woodpecker – up to 20 inches tall. It’s raucous, “kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk!” sounds like Woody Woodpecker’s wacky call.

Now if I can just figure out how to attract red-headed woodpeckers, we will have all the species commonly seen in central Missouri.  That might be a tall order, since they favor farm land with dead trees standing in the open.  But we can hope!

Ugly Ducking: Hunting Show or Hunting Porn?

Posted on by Jim Low

for-sto-01042017-hunting-picture-1of3By Jim Low

I don’t ordinarily watch hunting shows on television, but the Hunt Channel caught me in a weak moment.  I’m still coming to terms with the fact that my 2016 duck hunting season ended without me firing a single shot at a mallard.  Sad.  So sad that when I saw a duck-hunting program listed on my satellite TV menu, I clicked in, hoping at least to share the experience of luckier hunters.  What a disappointment.

All the physical elements of a duck hunt were there – guys, guns, decoys, dogs and the factor that has eluded me this year, ducks.  Yet somehow it didn’t add up to hunting.  There was plenty of killing, though.  Five minutes into the program I had already seen more birds fall out of the air than would have been necessary for me to call a day in the marsh a success.  But something was missing.

For one thing, there was none of the banter that enlivens a morning spent with hunting buddies.  No reminiscing about past hunts, no good-natured jibes about shooting ability or choice of ammunition.  Mostly it was grim determination and gear talk. Long shots were the order of the day.  Despite the presence of large numbers of ducks that readily worked the decoys, only a few managed to get closer than 40 yards before the three hunters unleashed a barrage of expensive non-toxic shot in their general direction.  The implicit message was that hunting skill is superfluous when you can simply buy bigger, better shot shells capable of knocking down ducks at 60 yards.  Never mind the large proportion of crippled birds.

Neophyte waterfowlers would not have learned much from the endless series of money shots.  The hosts offered no observations about wind or other weather variables and how they might affect hunting strategy.  There was no explanation of how the decoy spread was structured to invite passing ducks to land.  No wonder, since the spread showed no sign of forethought.  It was an amorphous wad of bobbing plastic, with no opening to lure birds into shotgun range.

Time spent with friends – two- and four-legged – is one important aspect of hunting that doesn’t depend on killing game.
Time spent with friends – two- and four-legged – is one important aspect of hunting that doesn’t depend on killing game.

Violating the most basic rule of duck calling, the trio continued to blow loudly on their calls even when the birds were swooping toward the decoys.  When ducks fell, the party’s lone retriever piled into the water unbidden, a serious breach of retriever etiquette.  The only dog work and handling that viewers got to see was when the Labrador Retriever delivered a duck to hand.  All you saw was a wild barrage of shooting, one or several ducks falling and – if you were lucky – a dog climbing back into the boat with a duck.

There was plenty of product placement, however.  To be honest, that description implies a level of subtlety the show’s producers did not possess.  “Product placement” implies that hunters are shown using particular brands and models of equipment.  To compensate for a lack of careful filming, ham-handed editing superimposed huge product photos over the hunting video when a sponsor’s gewgaw was purportedly in use.  The whole thing would have made the brazen pitchmen of AMC’s Mad Men blush.

Devising a decoy spread that takes wind, sun, cover and other factors into account is critical to bringing ducks close enough for quick, clean kills.
Devising a decoy spread that takes wind, sun, cover and other factors into account is critical to bringing ducks close enough for quick, clean kills.

Three-quarters of a century ago, Aldo Leopold lamented the fact that outdoor media were becoming mere billboards for outdoor gadgets.  He said he was glad he wouldn’t live to see the end result.  I know how he felt.  I don’t mind gadgeteers making a buck by peddling bigger, better, faster and generally over-rated products.  I even end up buying some of them and then laughing at myself.  I once bought a box of steel shot shells touted as “hypersonic.” When my hunting buddy ran out of ammo, he teasingly asked me to lend him a couple of my “hyperbolic” loads.  Made me laugh and blush simultaneously.

Up to a point, commercializing hunting doesn’t bother me.  It’s good for the economy and real hunters quickly figure out which gimmicks work and are compatible with their standards for fair chase.  What really troubles me is reductive treatment of blood sports.  New hunters, potential hunters and non-hunters who watch shows like the one I saw would never guess that hunting is about more than killing things.  The Spanish philosopher and hunter Jose Ortega y Gasset said that he did not hunt to kill, he killed in order to have hunted.

I wanted to kill ducks this fall, I really did, but I still considered my time in the marsh with friends worthwhile, in spite of the scarcity of killing.  It would have been even more satisfactory if ducks had deigned to visit my marsh, even if I had failed to kill one.  I will continue to hunt as long as there is a possibility of ducks cupping their wings and sliding into a cleverly-conceived decoy spread, whether it happens or not.

I don’t consider the guys in the hunting video bad people or unethical hunters.  I strongly suspect they understand, deep down, the truth of y Gasset’s view of the relationship between hunting and killing.  However, I do consider them and the producers of their show to be thoughtless and embarrassingly inept storytellers.  If you are going to portray hunting in a public forum, please don’t cheapen it by reducing the experience to hunting porn.  Do your best to capture the art, the camaraderie, the excitement and the deep spiritual meaning that comprise hunting at its best.  I know it’s not as easy as stringing together a bunch of kill shots, but it’s more truthful.

Dogs, Rabbits and Smith & Wesson

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

for-sto-12212016-hunting-picture-1of2By Jim Low

My friend Dave Urich has hunted rabbits behind beagles since childhood.  He has always loved the music of baying hounds, but he doesn’t enjoy racing to rescue freshly shot bunnies from a pack of crazed canines.  He has never succeeded in teaching his beagles not to tear up rabbits, so he found another solution.

Enter Smith & Wesson*, a pair of Labrador retrievers.  Smith is a black lab, while Wesson is more or less the same shade of yellow as the well-known brand of cooking oil.  Dave keeps Smith & Wesson at heel while his pack of six to eight beagles rousts rabbits.  When he bags a bunny with his .410 over-under, the labs go into action.  They usually beat the beagles to the game and gleefully deliver it to Dave’s waiting hand.

This system works fine, but Dave isn’t one to settle for “good” when a little tinkering might get him to “better” or all the way to “perfect.” In that spirit, Dave added a basset hound named Porterhouse to the mix.  Beagles are an excitable and hasty lot, prone to missing small olfactory clues and being fooled by of cottontail chicanery.  They would mill around in circles for hours if not forcibly redirected.

Dave Urich shows what a pack of beagles can do to a rabbit if you don’t get to it first.
Dave Urich shows what a pack of beagles can do to a rabbit if you don’t get to it first.

Bassets, on the other hand, have keener noses than their longer-legged cousins and are nothing if not deliberate.  Porterhouse normally trails minutes behind the beagle pack, patiently following meandering traces of rabbit spoor as if every molecule were the finest French cologne.  Rabbits that cross a creek or double back and then hide in out-of-the-way nooks watch the howling beagle pack pass by and think they have it made.  Next thing you know, Porterhouse has his nose beneath their backsides and the chase is on again.

This is much more orderly in theory than it is in practice.  Individual beagles go off on tangents that take them to the next county.  Others decide it would be fun to chase deer.  Labs get bored and wander off to roll in raccoon poop when Dave isn’t looking.  “Chaos” is too mild a word for a hunt with Dave’s dogs, but entertainment is never in short supply.  To keep things manageable, Dave fits every member of his pack – except those carrying guns – with shock collars, which he controls individually to correct the behavior of whichever dog might go rogue at a given moment.  How he keeps track of the dogs, let alone the collars, is beyond me, but we haven’t lost a dog yet.

That is more than I can say for rabbits.  We do well enough shooting them, but with so many eager dogs in play, we seldom get through a day without losing at least one rabbit to canine exuberance.  It’s a small price to pay for so much fun.  Eating them can be extremely pleasant, too.  Rabbit meat is a lot like chicken minus the generous helping of fat that goes with chicken skin.  Frying in back grease and then slow-braising in a covered skillet supplies the moisture that rabbit flesh lacks, and that is a perfectly acceptable way to cook it.  My favorite, however, involves heavy cream, white wine and bowtie pasta.  Here’s how I do it.

Meat and Cooking

Remove the meat of two or three quartered rabbits from the bone.  Sear them in olive oil with chopped garlic in a cast-iron Dutch oven.  Cut into half-inch chunks and set aside in a covered container.

Sauce

Sautee 4 green onions in butter in the Dutch oven until they start to soften.  Add 12 ounces of dry white wine and 12 ounces of chicken stock and stir to dissolve browning residue from bottom of oven.  Add four bay leaves, two teaspoons of peppercorns, 12 chopped sprigs of fresh thyme and simmer until reduced by two-thirds.

Add 8 ounces of half-and half to the sauce and simmer until reduced by half.  Remove from heat and strain the sauce into another container.  Discard the seasonings and return strained sauce to the Dutch oven.

Dice a stick of butter and whisk it into sauce.  Add salt and fresh lemon juice to taste.  Stir in the diced meat and keep it warm while preparing the pasta.

Pasta

Slice two bell peppers – one red and one green – into thin strips.  Cut 16 ounces of fresh mushrooms into quarters.  Sautee pepper strips and mushrooms in butter until they begin to soften, but are still firm.  Set aside.

Cook a large package of bowtie pasta or wide egg noodles, drain and pour into a large serving bowl.  Arrange the peppers and mushrooms on top.  Pour on the sauce and serve.

* I asked Dave how his basset hound acquired such an unusual, but undeniably descriptive name.  “None of my dogs answer to their names,” he said, “So I give them names that I like.  For a while I was in the habit of naming them after cuts of meat.” He says that led to “Pork Chop,” “Ribeye,” “Tenderloin” and “T-bone.” If I ever acquire a beagle of my own, I’m calling him “Ground Chuck.” “Chateaubriand” might be a good choice for a classy bird dog.

Dogs, Rabbits and Smith & Wesson

Posted on by Jim Low

for-sto-12212016-hunting-picture-1of2By Jim Low

My friend Dave Urich has hunted rabbits behind beagles since childhood.  He has always loved the music of baying hounds, but he doesn’t enjoy racing to rescue freshly shot bunnies from a pack of crazed canines.  He has never succeeded in teaching his beagles not to tear up rabbits, so he found another solution.

Enter Smith & Wesson*, a pair of Labrador retrievers.  Smith is a black lab, while Wesson is more or less the same shade of yellow as the well-known brand of cooking oil.  Dave keeps Smith & Wesson at heel while his pack of six to eight beagles rousts rabbits.  When he bags a bunny with his .410 over-under, the labs go into action.  They usually beat the beagles to the game and gleefully deliver it to Dave’s waiting hand.

This system works fine, but Dave isn’t one to settle for “good” when a little tinkering might get him to “better” or all the way to “perfect.” In that spirit, Dave added a basset hound named Porterhouse to the mix.  Beagles are an excitable and hasty lot, prone to missing small olfactory clues and being fooled by of cottontail chicanery.  They would mill around in circles for hours if not forcibly redirected.

Dave Urich shows what a pack of beagles can do to a rabbit if you don’t get to it first.
Dave Urich shows what a pack of beagles can do to a rabbit if you don’t get to it first.

Bassets, on the other hand, have keener noses than their longer-legged cousins and are nothing if not deliberate.  Porterhouse normally trails minutes behind the beagle pack, patiently following meandering traces of rabbit spoor as if every molecule were the finest French cologne.  Rabbits that cross a creek or double back and then hide in out-of-the-way nooks watch the howling beagle pack pass by and think they have it made.  Next thing you know, Porterhouse has his nose beneath their backsides and the chase is on again.

This is much more orderly in theory than it is in practice.  Individual beagles go off on tangents that take them to the next county.  Others decide it would be fun to chase deer.  Labs get bored and wander off to roll in raccoon poop when Dave isn’t looking.  “Chaos” is too mild a word for a hunt with Dave’s dogs, but entertainment is never in short supply.  To keep things manageable, Dave fits every member of his pack – except those carrying guns – with shock collars, which he controls individually to correct the behavior of whichever dog might go rogue at a given moment.  How he keeps track of the dogs, let alone the collars, is beyond me, but we haven’t lost a dog yet.

That is more than I can say for rabbits.  We do well enough shooting them, but with so many eager dogs in play, we seldom get through a day without losing at least one rabbit to canine exuberance.  It’s a small price to pay for so much fun.  Eating them can be extremely pleasant, too.  Rabbit meat is a lot like chicken minus the generous helping of fat that goes with chicken skin.  Frying in back grease and then slow-braising in a covered skillet supplies the moisture that rabbit flesh lacks, and that is a perfectly acceptable way to cook it.  My favorite, however, involves heavy cream, white wine and bowtie pasta.  Here’s how I do it.

Meat and Cooking

Remove the meat of two or three quartered rabbits from the bone.  Sear them in olive oil with chopped garlic in a cast-iron Dutch oven.  Cut into half-inch chunks and set aside in a covered container.

Sauce

Sautee 4 green onions in butter in the Dutch oven until they start to soften.  Add 12 ounces of dry white wine and 12 ounces of chicken stock and stir to dissolve browning residue from bottom of oven.  Add four bay leaves, two teaspoons of peppercorns, 12 chopped sprigs of fresh thyme and simmer until reduced by two-thirds.

Add 8 ounces of half-and half to the sauce and simmer until reduced by half.  Remove from heat and strain the sauce into another container.  Discard the seasonings and return strained sauce to the Dutch oven.

Dice a stick of butter and whisk it into sauce.  Add salt and fresh lemon juice to taste.  Stir in the diced meat and keep it warm while preparing the pasta.

Pasta

Slice two bell peppers – one red and one green – into thin strips.  Cut 16 ounces of fresh mushrooms into quarters.  Sautee pepper strips and mushrooms in butter until they begin to soften, but are still firm.  Set aside.

Cook a large package of bowtie pasta or wide egg noodles, drain and pour into a large serving bowl.  Arrange the peppers and mushrooms on top.  Pour on the sauce and serve.

* I asked Dave how his basset hound acquired such an unusual, but undeniably descriptive name.  “None of my dogs answer to their names,” he said, “So I give them names that I like.  For a while I was in the habit of naming them after cuts of meat.” He says that led to “Pork Chop,” “Ribeye,” “Tenderloin” and “T-bone.” If I ever acquire a beagle of my own, I’m calling him “Ground Chuck.” “Chateaubriand” might be a good choice for a classy bird dog.

Short Corn, the Silver Bullet for Duck Hunters?

Posted on by Jim Low
Duck hunters along the Mississippi Flyway have been looking for ducks this year. Joe Forma Photo
Duck hunters along the Mississippi Flyway have been looking for ducks this year. Joe Forma Photo

By Jim Low

Last week I attended a meeting of the Conservation Federation’s board of directors, a group that includes quite a few duck hunters.  While we were waiting for the meeting to start, we convened a neoprene caucus to compare notes on the season so far.

The mood was not festive.  The story was the same everywhere.  Guys who hunker down in the weedy borders of farm ponds and millionaires who spend thousands of dollars annually planting corn and pumping water around deluxe pit blinds were killing the same number of ducks – almost none.

The final word came from a St.  Louis area hunter who said he had a conversation with a U.S.  Fish and Wildlife Service agent about this year’s lousy season. “He told me that if anyone claimed to be killing ducks, he was lying,” said the discouraged Mississippi Valley hunter.

For me, I take this personally.  The last time I fired a gun at a duck was before resident wood ducks left for Arkansas.  How in the name of Nash Buckingham can we have historic high numbers of ducks, ample water and great habitat and me still not be able to have one decent hunt in the entire first month of duck season?

  Anytime duck hunters talk about rotten hunting, Bob Brown Conservation Area (CA) is sure to come up.  This 3,300-acre managed wetland area in Holt County is, depending on your mood, either a shining beacon of hope or a relentless reminder of your dismal luck.  From opening day to season’s end, the per-hunter average daily bag seldom drops below three.  Once a substantial number of ducks arrive in northwest Missouri – usually around the second week of November – the kill rate often hovers between five and six ducks per hunter for days at a time.  It’s enough to make a hardened veteran of the Mallard Wars weep.

Missouri duck hunters have spent lots of time scanning empty skies this fall.
Missouri duck hunters have spent lots of time scanning empty skies this fall.

The worst day at Bob Brown is better than the best day most other places.  Consequently, it’s next to impossible to get a reservation there.  I had the good fortune to draw one two years ago.  It was for opening day, which is less than ideal because Missouri seldom has many ducks that early in the year.  There was no wind, the sky was clear, and the high temperature that day was 85 degrees.  In short, it was a particularly unpromising day.  But it was at Bob Brown.  I shot two wood ducks, two pintails and a green-winged teal.  I would have limited out if I hadn’t been taking a leak when the last flock of the day bombed into our decoys.  Incredible.

Last week, I stood in a stand of flooded corn at Grand Pass CA with three friends, watching an empty sky.  Naturally, we mused about what Bob Brown has that nowhere else in the Show-Me State does.  Pat, who is our group’s custodian of wild rumors, said he heard that the managers at Bob Brown plant a special strain of corn that bears ears just inches above ground.  This makes the high-energy food available to ducks the minute water creeps into a strip of corn.

“I don’t know if that’s true, but I don’t have any other explanation for why they kill so many ducks over there,” he said.

That’s the sort of simple answer that people – myself included – find irresistible.  I wanted to believe that short corn was the silver bullet of duck hunting.  If true, it would allow my duck club to make its 150-acre wetland a webfoot paradise.  It was too good a rumor not to pursue, so I dialed up Bob Brown CA and asked whether they had a secret weapon growing in their marsh.  The answer was “yes and no.”

At Bob Brown and other wetland areas managed by the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC), corn and other crops are planted under two different plans.  The majority of crops are planted by permittee farmers, who bid for the privilege of growing corn on MDC land with the stipulation that they leave a certain number of rows in certain locations for ducks and other wildlife.  The remainder – which is all left in the field – is planted by MDC staff.

Permittee farmers and MDC both have their choice of different types of corn, classified according to how long they take to mature.  Ninety-day corn is the fastest growing, and because it has to produce ears in shorter time, it doesn’t get as tall as 100- or 120-day varieties.  All the corn planted by Bob Brown’s staff is the 90-day variety.  Permittee farmers are encouraged to plant 90-day corn, but they can choose their varieties according to their own preferences and needs.*

MDC Resource Scientist Doreen Mengel, who specializes in waterfowl management and biology, says the option of planting 90-day corn is available to all MDC wetland managers.  So there’s no reason think that Bob Brown’s enviable harvest history is the result of short corn.  Instead, she and the staff at Bob Brown say the area’s success results from a variety of factors, one of which is location.  The Missouri River makes up 3 miles of the area’s western boundary, which offers several advantages.  For one thing, the river is a major migration corridor, an unmistakable sign to southbound waterfowl.  The sign says, “This way to Arkansas,” “Plenty of water here,” and “Good Eats!”

Bob Brown’s location at the northwest corner of the state means ducks arrive there without having been shot at as much as they will have been by the time they reach more southerly wetlands.  Anyone who has watched flock after flock of ducks fly straight toward a decoy spread with half a dozen motion-wing decoys, only to veer off at 60 to 100 yards, knows that educated ducks are harder to fool than naïve ones.

Finally, and probably most importantly, Bob Brown also happens to be located just 2 miles south of Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge (NWR).  It’s a place where hundreds of thousands of ducks and geese can stop to rest from the rigors of migration without getting shot at by hunters.  Fountain Grove CA is similarly close to Swan Lake NWR, but there’s a difference.  The managers of Swan Lake plant corn for waterfowl to eat.  Squaw Creek doesn’t.  If ducks at Squaw Creek want to tank up on high-energy food for the next leg of their trip south, they must leave the refuge.  How significant is this difference? To quote Pat, I don’t know, but I don’t have any other explanation for why they kill so many ducks over there.

Mengel says the main reason for this year’s poor duck hunting is warmer-than-normal weather, whatever “normal” is these days.  It certainly isn’t normal for a pair of Canada geese to start nesting in Winnipeg, Manitoba, in November, but Mengel says that actually happened this year.  Here in Missouri, warm weather has meant that the substantial number of ducks already here (more than 1 million by late November) have tended to settle into refuges and stay there.  With daytime highs ranging from the 50s to 70s, ducks burn up almost none of their fat reserves and don’t feel the need to leave refuges to eat.  That explains the empty skies over spots that otherwise might provide excellent hunting.

Interesting as all this is, the main thing on my and other Show-Me State duck hunters’ minds today is whether we will enjoy even one decent hunt this year.  Duck season runs through Dec.  27 in the North Zone, and action in the South Zone lasts through Jan. 22.  But with snow and low temperatures in the teens forecast for the next few days, experienced waterfowlers know the season could be nearly over, practically speaking.

Mengel, who enjoys duck hunting herself, says she is as worried as anyone that Missouri wetlands could become skating rinks this week, sending hundreds of thousands of birds south before she gets a crack at them.

“My hope is that this cold spell is a short one and the birds stick around,” she said.  “Also, we could see a warm-up in December that would prompt birds to move back in.”

If the cold spell does turn out to be short, it could result in superb hunting.  Falling temperatures and north winds would get ducks up and moving into the cornfield in Grand Pass’s Buckwheat Hole where John, Pat, Paul and I didn’t fire a shot last week.  It also might cause a sudden flurry of duck activity at my duck club, where we installed an Ice Eater last year.

If the hunting in my area doesn’t improve, I will continue to hope for another reservation at Bob Brown CA, because the corn is always shorter on the other side of the state.

* Incidentally, I was also pleased to learn that the folks at Bob Brown also use and encourage permittee farmers to plant non-Bt corn.  Bt corn has been genetically modified to produce a protein that kills the larvae of butterflies and moths.  I understand the importance of GM crops in feeding a hungry world.  However, I also worry about the effect these crops have on things I love, such as monarch butterflies.  And it seems to me that using Bt crops is inconsistent with MDC’s mission of conserving nature.

Deer Hunting with Friends is Tradition

Posted on by Jim Low

Scott Gerlt, of Columbia, Missouri, with his Cole County trophy.

Scott Gerlt, of Columbia, Missouri, with his Cole County trophy.
Scott Gerlt, of Columbia, Missouri, with his Cole County trophy.

By Jim Low

One of the things I love about deer hunting in Missouri is its democratic nature.  With 2.5 million acres of public hunting land managed by the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) and the USDA Forest Service, anyone can pursue white-tailed deer in the Show-Me State.  Most deer hunters chase whitetails on private land at least part of the time, but the abundance of public land helps ensure the continuation of a vigorous hunting tradition.

While I am fortunate enough to have deer hunting property of my own, I always open the November portion of firearms deer season with friends in southern Cole County.  While not exactly a “deer camp,” the camaraderie of hunting with long-time friends, Tom and Susie Schulz, adds a dimension to the experience that I would miss even if I managed to shoot a big buck elsewhere on my own.

So, opening morning found me at Tom and Susie’s place, scanning a weedy food plot for activity.  I didn’t have to wait long.  Less than an hour into the season, a beautiful spike buck emerged from the woods to check a scrape 20 yards from my stand.  I know lots of hunters who would have passed on this yearling deer, hoping for a big-antlered buck.  But to me, taking a medium-sized buck or a fat doe is as exciting as dropping a buck with coat-rack antlers.

I freely admit to being a meat hunter.  My wife and I both prefer venison to beef, and the chance to stack loins, back straps, roasts, steaks, stew meat and ground venison in the freezer is mostly what deer hunting is about.  Don’t get me wrong.  I go weak-kneed at the sight of a massive set of antlers just as most hunters do, but I have exactly the same reaction to the appearance of a pair of 150-pound does.  If I have two antlerless tags in my pocket and enough ambition to tackle processing two deer, I’ll shoot both of them.  Then, I’ll wonder at their beauty as I prepare to turn them into a year’s meat supply.

The only thing sweeter is getting the chance to “make meat” or bag a trophy buck with friends is doing both in one day.  That’s what happened the second Saturday of this year’s deer season.

Years ago, I began mentoring a boy of 16 who had a passion for hunting but no one in his family to take him.  Scott Gerlt has matured into a fine and accomplished young man and what began as mentorship has ripened into a rewarding outdoor partnership.  After striking out in the duck marsh last Saturday morning, Scott suggested the possibility of hunting deer in the afternoon.  That seemed like a good idea, so I called Susie, got her blessing and headed out to their place.  Scott, Tom and I were in our stands by 3:30.  Susie elected to monitor events from the house via text messages.

Scott had never hunted deer there before, but he was intrigued by accounts of abundant deer, including some big ones.  At 4:30 I heard shots from Scott’s direction.  A text from Susie informed me that Scott had shot a forkhorn.  Thirty minutes later, a beautiful, mature doe came cantering toward me.  When she pulled up short and turned broadside to test the air, I put a solid copper, 160-grain Barnes bullet through both her lungs.  She was down seconds later, having conveniently run 120 yards toward the road.  “Doe down!” I texted Susie.

Tom and Scott soon arrived to help me load my doe.  That done, Scott asked if I would like to see his forkhorn.  Why not, I thought.  It ought to be as fine on the table as my doe.

OMG.  Scott and Tom had been pulling my leg.  Tom’s truck bed held not a forkhorn but a big – and I mean BIG – buck.  I don’t have much experience scoring antlers, but I would be surprised if this one didn’t gross 160.  The net score will suffer from asymmetry in the G2 and G3 tines and a ring-hanger point on the left side. But the length, spread and mass all are impressive.  It’s a deer we all will remember, regardless of whether it makes the Show-Me Missouri Big Bucks or Boone & Crockett club books.

Before the hunt, Scott told me he wasn’t interested in antlers.  He wanted a doe for the freezer.  He didn’t do anything special to “earn” this trophy. Heck, he hadn’t even thought he wanted it.  Yet there he was, posing for photos and considering how to broach the subject of taxidermy with his wife.  On the way home, he was thinking about asking the Schulz’s if he can bring his 5-year-old daughter, Maddie, hunting at Tom and Susie’s to show her what all the fuss is about.

That’s what I mean when I say deer hunting is democratic.  In Missouri, anyone can hope to shoot a trophy deer – whatever that means to them.

With the threat of CWD looming on the horizon in this part of the country, for Scott and Maddie’s sake, I hope it doesn’t come to that.

Targeting Chronic Wasting Disease (CWD)

Posted on by Jim Low

MDC employee Mark Raithel prepares to collect lymph nodes from the neck of a hunter-harvested deer to have them tested for chronic wasting disease. MDC collected about 19,200 tissues samples at 75 locations in central, northeast, and east-central Missouri on opening weekend of the November Firearms Deer Season.

MDC employee Mark Raithel prepares to collect lymph nodes from the neck of a hunter-harvested deer to have them tested for chronic wasting disease. MDC collected about 19,200 tissues samples at 75 locations in central, northeast, and east-central Missouri on opening weekend of the November Firearms Deer Season.
MDC employee Mark Raithel prepares to collect lymph nodes from the neck of a hunter-harvested deer to have them tested for chronic wasting disease. MDC collected about 19,200 tissues samples at 75 locations in central, northeast, and east-central Missouri on opening weekend of the November Firearms Deer Season.

By Jim Low

Last weekend, Missouri hunters brought 19,200 deer to 75 stations set up by the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) to gather tissue samples to be tested for chronic wasting disease (CWD).  It was a huge effort that involved approximately 1,200 MDC employees – the majority of MDC’s full-time employees – working at sampling stations on opening weekend of the November firearms deer season.

This intensive effort is the latest piece of MDC’s ongoing program to detect and slow the spread of a disease that – if left unchecked – will spell the end of deer hunting as we know it in the Show-Me State.  That would be a catastrophe for several reasons.  For one thing, the state’s deer herd is the foundation of a deep and rich outdoor tradition.  I don’t know how many people the Kansas City Royals, the St.  Louis Blues or the MU Tigers pull in for a game, but I’m sure those figures would be dwarfed by the more than 500,000 hunters who pour into Missouri’s forests and fields every November in pursuit of deer.

Deer hunting is more than a cherished tradition in Missouri.  It also yields approximately 2.5 million pounds of lean red meat annually.  If you assume a very conservative value of $5 per pound for organic, free-range venison, that’s $12.5 million worth of meat.  And thanks to hunters’ generosity through the Share the Harvest program, approximately 10 percent of Missouri’s annual deer harvest goes to food banks and local charities that provide nutritional assistance to our neediest families.  Besides all that, economists figure that deer hunting supports around 12,000 Show-Me State jobs and pumps more than $1 billion into the state and local economies.

However, if you ask deer hunters why they go out with rifle in hand each November, you aren’t likely to hear about dollars and cents.  I posed this question to several hunters while I was at the Cole County R-5 School in Eugene on opening day, having my deer sampled for CWD.  Every single one mentioned the mental and emotional boost they get from time spent in the woods, engaged in the age-old quest to provide food for themselves and their families.  Their sentiments were summed up most eloquently by one of the younger hunters I spoke with, David Newton, of Jefferson City.

“There is something spiritual and right in my soul when I get to hunt,” Newton told me.  “My life is really busy, and even if I don’t get to shoot anything, if I get to sit in the woods and think about the world, see how things slowly move, it puts my mind in the right place.  There’s also the challenge of providing food for my family, having the blessing of being able to take dominion over the earth like God gave us.  It all fits in.”

I also asked hunters if the spread of CWD in Missouri concerns them.  They all said yes, and again, Newton had a good answer.

“As someone who is passionate about hunting, it’s certainly something I’m concerned about and want to see dealt with sooner rather than later,” said Newton.  “I hear guys talk about the time in the past when there weren’t deer around.  I’m a young guy, so if I hunt long enough, I know I’m going to see deer.  But if deer get sick and start dying out, there won’t be deer any more.  I’ve got three boys.  When they’re old enough to hunt, I don’t want them to have five or six years when they don’t see a deer.”

All this is enough to make you wonder how we got to the point where such a valuable and treasured resource is in danger of disappearing.  As in other eastern states where CWD has cropped up in the past 20 years, Missouri’s outbreaks in free-ranging deer all have occurred adjacent to high-fence facilities where deer are kept for breeding and shooting.  Since the owners of these facilities have a financial stake in deer health, you might think they would be in the forefront of efforts to contain CWD.  You would be wrong.  Missouri’s deer breeders and purveyors of canned hunts have fought tooth and nail against common-sense measures proposed by the Missouri Conservation Commission as a compromise to allow captive-deer facilities to continue operating.

There was a time when the average hunter’s attitude toward captive-deer operations was live-and-let-live.  Paying to shoot a “frankendeer” with freakishly large antlers as it bellied up to a timed corn feeder might not have appealed to them, but they weren’t willing to criticize others for doing so, even if it seemed like the opposite of hunting.  But now, with CWD threatening to destroy the sport they love, and with the danger of creating a new outbreak every time a deer is imported or moved from one shooting pen to another in Missouri, attitudes are changing.

Earlier this year, the Arkansas Game & Fish Commission announced the discovery of an extensive CWD outbreak in counties bordering southwestern Missouri.  This expands the already huge area that MDC must monitor for the presence and spread of CWD.  At this rate, CWD could be so widespread in Missouri that containment is impossible within a very few years.

Thank You – These MDC staff were among about 1,200 who collected tissue samples from hunter-harvested deer to test for chronic wasting disease.
Thank You – These MDC staff were among about 1,200 who collected tissue samples from hunter-harvested deer to test for chronic wasting disease.

Missouri deer breeders and pay-to-shoot operations currently are unregulated, as a lawsuit they brought against the Conservation Commission works its way through the legal system.  So far, their money has spoken louder than hunters’ voices in the courts and in the Missouri legislature.   If you care about deer hunting, read up on CWD at mdc.mo.gov/CWD, and express your desire for action forcefully to the Conservation Commission and to your state and national legislators.

After having my deer sampled for CWD, I also asked other hunters there if they thought shooting deer inside fenced enclosures is “hunting.” Not one said yes.

I’m inclined to say no,” said Newton.  “Every intuition in me says no.  Maybe that’s rooted in the pride of hunting and the feeling that it’s not as challenging.  I think this idea of shooting for sport and shooting enclosed animals, I don’t think it’s hunting.  I don’t think its showing proper reverence or honoring the opportunity we have to hunt.”

Details about MDC’s CWD sampling are printed in the 2016 Fall Deer and Turkey Hunting booklet, available wherever hunting permits are sold.  Hunters who shoot deer throughout the rest of the hunting season in the 29 counties of the CWD management zone can still have their deer tested for the disease.  Contact the MDC Central Regional Office in Columbia at 573-815-7900, the MDC Northeast Regional Office in Kirksville at 660-785-2420, or the MDC St.  Louis Regional Office in St.  Charles at 636-441-4554.  Hunters can also find voluntary CWD sampling stations at mdc.mo.gov/CWD.

On a much more positive note, thanks to all of you who turned out to vote for renewing Missouri’s 1/10th of 1 percent sales tax for parks and soil and water conservation.  Eight out of 10 voters approved the renewal, sending a resounding message to state officials about how much Missourians value their parks.  Well done!

Chronic Wasting Disease (CWD) – Part 2

Posted on by Jim Low

Jim Low shares, “With CWD, infection rates will soar and deer populations will decline until – like 80 years ago – white-tailed deer sightings are so rare, they make newspaper headlines.” Joe Forma Photo

Arkansas and Missouri News

Jim Low shares, “With CWD, infection rates will soar and deer populations will decline until – like 80 years ago – white-tailed deer sightings are so rare, they make newspaper headlines.” Joe Forma Photo
Jim Low shares, “With CWD, infection rates will soar and deer populations will decline until – like 80 years ago – white-tailed deer sightings are so rare, they make newspaper headlines.” Joe Forma Photo

By Jim Low

I hate to think about how the spread of chronic wasting disease (CWD) will change the rich deer hunting tradition of Missouri.  This month’s issue of Arkansas Wildlife, published by the Arkansas Game & Fish Commission (AGFC), has an excellent article documenting the dawn of a new era in deer management for our neighbor to the south.  The article, titled “Charting New Territory,” describes the discovery of a new outbreak of chronic wasting disease (CWD) just across the border from southwest Missouri.

The basic facts are extremely worrisome.  After confirming CWD in one elk and one deer in Newton County, Ark., earlier this year, AGFC tested 256 more deer and elk.  They found CWD in 23 percent of the animals.  That is an extremely high infection rate for a newly discovered outbreak, indicating the disease has been in the area for several years.  The infection rate among Arkansas bucks 2.5 years and older was 43 percent, further evidence that the outbreak began years ago.  AGFC expanded its sampling area to a 10-county area around Newton County during this year’s firearms deer season.  So far, that effort has detected 136 more infected deer and elk.  All 10 counties had CWD-infected deer. Three of those counties border Missouri.

The situation isn’t quite as dire in Missouri – yet.  Since 2003, MDC has tested tens of thousands of deer and turned up only 11 cases of CWD in high-fence breeding and shooting operations and 33 cases in free-ranging deer.  This is a good-news/bad-news situation.  The good news is that Missouri seems to be ahead of the game compared to Arkansas.  The bad news is that we already have three separate CWD infection zones and an extremely hot CWD outbreak on our southern border.

The Arkansas Wildlife article goes on to explain measures that the AGFC plans to take to manage the disease.  Notice that I said “manage.” Eradication is not possible.  Neither is containment.  The infectious agents that cause CWD – abnormal proteins called “prions” – are easily spread.  Infected deer can pass the disease to other deer by direct contact.  They also shed prions in their urine, feces and saliva.  Once in the soil, prions remain infectious virtually forever.  And unlike blue tongue and other hemorrhagic diseases, no deer has or can develop immunity to CWD.  It is 100 percent fatal.

Even worse, CWD prions are practically impossible to destroy.  You can’t kill them, because they aren’t alive.  They’re just naked strands of protein, but despite their simplicity, prions are remarkably durable.  So far, the only known way of destroying them is to incinerate contaminated soil at 900 degrees Fahrenheit or hotter for at least four hours.  Even if an outbreak were confined to a small area – say one county – you could never treat all the soil in this way.  And even if you could, you would still have infected deer roaming the landscape re-contaminating the soil, not to mention leaving the area and spreading the disease.

The only “good” thing about CWD is that it develops slowly, typically taking 18 months to cause symptoms – lethargy, loss of appetite, weight loss, excessive thirst, salivation and urination and drooping head and ears.  Slow development is a two-edged sword, however.  CWD doesn’t cause rapid, massive die-offs like those you see with blue tongue and other hemorrhagic diseases, so outbreaks can go unnoticed for years.  Meanwhile, infected deer continue to shed prions, spreading the disease.  By the time the slow-moving outbreak puts a serious dent in deer numbers, CWD is so prevalent that effective management is impossible.

To prevent this, monitoring and early detection are critical.  MDC’s CWD monitoring program took a more aggressive turn this year, gathering 19,200 tissue samples from deer killed on opening weekend in the state’s three CWD Management Zones.  This enormous effort – which required nearly every full-time MDC employee to pull off – will yield much more detailed and reliable data about the extent of Missouri’s CWD problem and the disease’s prevalence in the management zones.  Unfortunately, planning for the stepped-up sampling was well under way before Arkansas learned the extent of its CWD outbreak.  Hunters in southwest Missouri were asked to bring deer for testing, but a full-blown effort must wait until next year.

Hunters and conservation agencies in Missouri and Arkansas will be dealing with CWD from now on.  Whether either state will be able to muster the resources and the political will be to deal with the root of the problem – interstate transportation of deer and elk – remains to be seen.  As long as keeping deer in fenced enclosures and shipping them elsewhere continues to generate huge profits for deer-breeding and canned-hunting operations, CWD-infected deer will continue to crisscross North America, igniting dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of new outbreaks.  Endemic areas will merge.

Infection rates will soar, and deer populations will decline until – like 80 years ago – white-tailed deer sightings are so rare, they make newspaper headlines. Missouri hunters and others who simply love seeing deer, need to think long and hard about what all this means for them. Then they need to think about what they can do to help.

One thing you can do is talk to your state legislators about bolstering MDC’s authority to regulate captive deer.  For a more permanent solution, we might consider amending the state’s constitution, as they have done twice before in conservation matters, and putting an end to high-fence hunting operations.

What’s at stake is no less than the future of deer and deer hunting in Missouri.

Green Timber Duck Hunting

Posted on by Jim Low

Very little gear is needed to hunt wood ducks. Jim Low Photo

-Fun, Tasty Harvest, Little Gear Needed

Very little gear is needed to hunt wood ducks. Jim Low Photo
Very little gear is needed to hunt wood ducks. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

One of the things I miss from time that I have spent in Arkansas is green-timber duck hunting.  Missouri once had a considerable cypress-tupelo swamp in the southeastern corner of the state, but precious little of that is left.  What remains is a long way from my home in Jefferson City, but I still manage to get a taste of green-timber hunting during the first couple of weeks of duck season each year.

Wood ducks nest in wooded sloughs and along the margins of lakes, ponds, streams and Missouri’s big public wetland areas.  You can even find them around wildlife watering holes on land owned by the USDA Forest Service and the Missouri Department of Conservation.  I first discovered this when I was in college at MU and augmented my meager food budget with game from public land south and east of Columbia.  As I stalked squirrels one day, I spied a pair of woodies in a pond small enough to throw a rock across.  Both birds went home with me that day.  They provided the basis for one of the first meals I ever cooked for the lissome young woman who has brightened my days and nights for the past 43 years.

Thousands of wood ducks remain in Missouri into early November.  Until they depart for milder climes, they make it possible to enjoy the spectacle of web-footed prey weaving through tree trunks to splash down amid decoys.  My preferred spot to wait for them is along the banks of Mussel Fork Creek in Chariton County.  To be perfectly accurate, I hunt just over the banks of Mussel Fork, at the edge of a small, privately owned wetland.  Mussel Fork itself often is rather short of water this time of year, whereas the borrow ditch at my duck club – Mussel Fork Legacy Marsh – always offers hungry wood ducks a congenial place to loaf and chow down on their favorite food – pin oak acorns.

Last Friday, Mussel Fork’s pre-dawn silence was enlivened by the chortles of leopard frogs who were understandably confused about the season.  The calendar said November, but the thermometer tilted toward April.  My golden retriever and I were comfortable without parka or neoprene vest as we watched the lightening eastern sky impart a pink glow to water beneath half a dozen wood duck decoys.  Faced into the sun isn’t my first choice of duck-hunting positons, but I didn’t choose this spot – the ducks did.  The previous day I flushed 20 or so woodies from the corner where two levees meet, and I knew where I would be the following morning.

As daylight stole among the pin oaks, I learned why this spot attracted so many “wood widgeons.” The trees along the nearly dry creek behind me came alive with the squeals of wood ducks.  Dozens flew over my hiding spot as they headed out to forage, but I didn’t have to wait that long.  Several groups saw no reason to fly to distant spots when food was nearby.  They swooped in on Willa and me at five- to 10-minute intervals.

Admittedly, this was not the full green-timber experience.  I was at the edge of the trees, not surrounded by them.  But the ambiance had much in common with a northern Arkansas bayou, and the gunning was still challenging.  I spent five shells dropping two wood ducks.  When a hen hit the water, I declared my sporting limit filled.  Woodies continued to check us out as I took a few photos to memorialize the morning.

You don’t need much gear to hunt wood ducks.  The half-dozen I use is about twice as many as necessary.  I own a wood duck call, but almost never use it, having never seen an instance where it appeared to influence wood duck behavior.  What you absolutely must have is an idea of where wood ducks are hanging out.  The presence of pin oak trees whose branches overhang water is a huge advantage, but this doesn’t narrow the field much.  It’s also helpful to find a fallen tree that has sunk most of the way into the mud, providing ample perching space on its trunk and limbs.  But the gold standard of wood duck holes is a pocket of some sort.  An oxbow or a slough where a tributary enters the main stream is good.  So is a small pond, the back of an isolated lake cove or a dead end or bend in a borrow ditch.

Missouri has literally hundreds of public areas with excellent wood duck hunting spots.  One example is Mussel Fork Conservation Area in Linn and Macon counties.  Its 2,491 acres include four ponds, two wetlands and four miles of Mussel Fork Creek.  The Conservation Department’s website makes it easy to find areas like this in nearly every county.  Once you pick an area, the best way to find a productive spot is to simply walk creek banks, levees or wetland edges until you flush a bunch of wood ducks.  Leave immediately and return at about the same time the next day, and you likely will be in the money.  If forced to hunt without scouting beforehand, choose a likely spot and set out a small spinning-wing decoy with a handful of decoys to attract the attention of passing birds.  Don’t fret if you don’t own any wood duck decoys.  Hen mallard, gadwall or pintail hen dekes work fine.

As their name implies, wood ducks are creatures of the woods.  They tend to hug the edge of timber rather than flying out over large, open expanses.  As a result, I seldom get shots at wood ducks much beyond 30 yards.  No.  4 or 3 steel shot

Wood ducks are among the tastiest of all waterfowl. Jim Low Photo.
Wood ducks are among the tastiest of all waterfowl. Jim Low Photo.

works well at that range.  I hunt with an over/under shotgun for versatility in choke selection.  Screw an improved cylinder tube into one barrel and either modified of skeet choke in the other, depending on the likelihood of longer versus shorter shots.

Wood ducks are right up there with blue-winged teal, canvasbacks and prime rib for eating quality.  To let the flavor shine, filet the breast meat from the bone and cut it across the grain into cutlets about ¾ inch thick.  Salt and pepper these lightly and sear them in a hot skillet with butter or olive oil.  When they are still pink in the middle, set the cutlets aside on a warm plate.  Add a little red wine to the skillet and sauté some sliced mushrooms until tender.  Serve the meat and mushrooms with your choice of potatoes, bread or buttered egg noodles.  There’s no finer eating.

Going to Ground – All about Hunting Blinds

Posted on by Jim Low

Ground blinds offer advantages of comfort and safety compared to tree stands, especially for aging hunters.

–Ground Blinds offer Advantages of Comfort and Safety

-Low cost, Protection from Weather 

Ground blinds offer advantages of comfort and safety compared to tree stands, especially for aging hunters.
Ground blinds offer advantages of comfort and safety compared to tree stands, especially for aging hunters.

By Jim Low

A while back, a friend invited me to hunt deer on his property.  When I asked if he had a tree stand I could hunt from, or if I needed to bring my own, he said he didn’t use tree stands anymore.  He had gone to all ground blinds.  Having never hunted out of a ground blind, I decided to give one of his a try.  It was an eye-opening experience.  So much so, that I got one of my own.  Here are a few things I have learned about ground blinds and hunting from them.

PLUS/MINUS

Hunting from a ground blind has disadvantages.  The most significant to me is visibility.  Being 10 to 15 feet off the ground puts you above forest undergrowth, providing a clear view of approaching deer.  Elevation also gets you above minor undulations in the terrain, extending your field of view even farther.

Easy set-up, durability, wide field of view and shoot-through camouflage window netting are features of Bass Pro Shops’ BlackOut Hybrid ground blind that impressed the author.
Easy set-up, durability, wide field of view and shoot-through camouflage window netting are features of Bass Pro Shops’ BlackOut Hybrid ground blind that impressed the author.

The visibility factor is particularly important when bowhunting.  Even a twig can deflect an arrow, so after setting up a ground blind you must ensure clear fields of fire.  In my case, this involved a couple of hours of cutting bushes, brambles, saplings and sprouts with lopping shears.  The spot where I put my ground blind was in second-growth forest, so I also used a chainsaw to take out some of the smaller trees.

This wasn’t a bad thing in terms of forest management.  The area around my blind was overcrowded with small trees, so my work amounted to a timber-stand improvement cut, which needed to be done anyway.  The area is more open now, and the remaining red oaks will be more vigorous and produce more acorns, which means more food for deer and turkeys.

Another plus to ground blinds is safety.  I love hunting from a tree stand, but climbing up and down to and from them can be dicey after a snow or ice storm.  Older hunters, whose strength and reflexes are reduced, are at particular risk from falls, making ground blinds an attractive option for them.

Ground blinds also offer comfort.  Having four walls and a roof around you makes hunting more attractive when the mercury plummets.  You can’t shoot a deer if you aren’t in the woods, and ground blinds allow you to stay in the woods much longer than you would if you were 15 feet in the air, exposed to wind, rain, sleet or snow.

Being in a ground blind also gives you the freedom to stand up and stretch and otherwise move around without the risk of being spotted by deer.  Outdoor retailers also sell chairs made specifically for use with ground blinds, further increasing the comfort factor.

WHAT TO LOOK FOR

One of the first things to consider when buying a ground blind is weight.  This isn’t a big deal if you can drive to your hunting spot, but if your chosen site is a mile from the nearest road, a 5- or 10-pound difference is significant.

Durability is the most important factor in my book.  Look closely at the design and materials used in struts, hinges, zippers and other stress points.  Consider the thickness of fabric and look for double stitching on seams.  If you buy your blind online, go to a brick-and-mortar store first, and examine the one you are considering.  Ask the clerk to let you take down the display model and then set it up again, so you find out how easy or difficult it is.  Better to learn now if you can’t set a particular blind up without damaging it.  This is also an opportunity to check for durability.

Consider the field of view from inside.  You don’t need 360 degrees of visibility, but 270 degrees is handy for spotting deer coming from behind.  The ability to open and close window panels is handy, since it permits you to exclude wind and precipitation from different directions.  This also permits you to darken the area behind you, so as not to be silhouetted against a light background, making movement inside the blind visible to deer.

Be sure your chosen blind has camouflage netting to cover the windows.  This enables you to see out, while hiding what’s inside from deer.  Bowhunters should be sure to get a blind with shoot-through window netting.  To work, these must be fastened at both top and bottom.  Otherwise, even a sharp broadhead can catch loose mesh enough to deflect the arrow’s flight.

When choosing a chair for your blind, be sure to buy one with adjustable legs, so it can be leveled on slanted or uneven ground.  Again, if you plan to buy online, try to find a store where you can test-drive your chosen model to check for comfort.  If this isn’t possible, don’t hesitate to send an uncomfortable chair back for a refund or exchange.  You are going to be sitting in this thing a lot of hours.  It needs to be well-suited to your body.

PRODUCT REVIEW

My blind is a Blackout Hybrid from Bass Pro Shops (http://www.basspro.com/BlackOut-Hybrid-180-Hunting-Ground-Blind/product/2215666/).  I got it with Bass Pro’s companion Black Out hard-arm chair (http://www.basspro.com/BlackOut-Swivel-Hard-Arm-Chair/product/1302280931/?cmCat=CROSSSELL_PRODUCT_HU_VTT1).  On balance, I like them a lot.  The blind only weighs 14 pounds and is ridiculously simple to set up.  All you do is pull on the strap at the center of each side panel to pop them into place.  It is tall enough to allow all but the tallest hunters to stand upright inside and has plenty of room for two chairs, day packs and other gear.  Multiple-panel windows provide excellent field of view and versatility, and the shoot-through camo netting is easy to install and remove.  The zippers are sturdy and function smoothly.  The ground anchors are sturdy and have step-on braces that make driving them into the ground a cinch.  Built-in side pockets are handy for stowing small items.  The blind is rather heavy, but I don’t have to go with it, and the sturdy nylon canvas has a shoulder strap to facilitate carrying.

I am especially pleased with the chair.  I have back problems, so I’m really picky about chairs.  Not one in 100 pieces of inside furniture are comfortable for me to sit in.  The Black Out chair is so ergonomically perfect that I can sit in it for

Bass Pro Shops’ BlackOut Hard-Armed Blind Chair is a pretty close to perfect fit for the author.
Bass Pro Shops’ BlackOut Hard-Armed Blind Chair is a pretty close to perfect fit for the author.

hours without the usual need of pillows or other stuff to make them comfortable.  The locks on the adjustable legs are easy to operate and lock positively.  Wide, circular plates prevent the feet from sinking into any but the softest ground.  The chair swivels smoothly and silently. Like the blind, it comes with a carrying strap.

The Blackout Hybrid blind and chair’s faults are few and very minor.  The pull cords on the zippers are flimsy.  However, when they break – as they inevitably do – they zippers still operate easily without them.  I honestly don’t know why they even bothered including the string pulls.  The upper portion of the chair slips down onto the base, which is very convenient, but there is no locking device to keep it in place.  This has not caused me any problems yet.  A thumb screw on the mounting sleeve would ensure that the chair stays on the base.  However, that would interfere with the chair’s swiveling.  Clearly, I’m grasping at straws when it comes to finding anything wrong with the chair.

I haven’t used my ground blind for turkey hunting yet.  It isn’t compatible with my run-and-gun style of hunting, but it will be great when I introduce fidgety youngsters to the sport, or years from now, when I’m too old and decrepit to chase gobblers all over god’s half-acre.

SAFETY

One thing to remember when you move from tree stands to ground blinds is that you lose the automatic back-stop effect.  If you miss when shooting down from a tree stand, your bullet or arrow goes straight into the ground, not across the field or over the next ridge.  It’s important to remember this when choosing a location for and using a ground blind.

In Missouri and many other states, there is a requirement to wear blaze orange when deer hunting.  This rule has saved dozens of lives and prevented hundreds of injuries since it went into effect more than 30 years ago, but wearing hunter orange does no good when you are inside a ground blind.  To alert other hunters to your presence, hang an orange hat or vest on the outside of your blind, or sew a piece of orange cloth to the top for permanent protection.

Just Doodling, Timber-Doodling

Posted on by Jim Low

Double guns with twin triggers are the author’s favorites for woodcock. Jim Low Photo

-Woodcock Hunting is a Challenge

-Flushes, Shots, Missouri Fun

Double guns with twin triggers are the author’s favorites for woodcock. Jim Low Photo
Double guns with twin triggers are the author’s favorites for woodcock. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

It isn’t my favorite game bird – that would be the wild turkey.  Nor is it the most delicious I’ve ever eaten – that would the rock ptarmigan.  But for a wingshooting challenge, my hands-down favorite is the American woodcock.  If that weren’t enough, the sporty little “timberdoodle” plugs the gaping hole between dove and quail seasons in Missouri’s upland bird hunting calendar.  Though you seldom find them here before Nov. 1, woodcock season opens Oct. 15 and provides a plausible excuse for field boots, shooting vest and elegant double guns that seem to rise to the shoulder of their own volition.

The author and his golden retriever with their first woodcock of 2016. Jim Low Photo
The author and his golden retriever with their first woodcock of 2016. Jim Low Photo

My golden retriever and I went hunting three times this fall before finally seeing our first woodcock.  A load of No. 9s from my favorite woodcock gun – a plain-Jane Merkel that retains perhaps 5 percent of its original finish – sent dozens of cottonwood leaves tumbling to the ground.  The bird continued on its way, never to be seen again.  It was the only bird we saw that day.

Halloween was different.  I had just enough time to hunt a postage-stamp covert within two miles of the house, but the weather felt right, with a stronger-than-predicted cool front having pushed through the night before.  Fifty yards from the truck, a big adult woodcock flushed from the edge of a cedar thicket, and after spiraling up 15 feet it pitched into a tangled confusion of limbs and needles.  Shooting would have been pointless, even if I had been quick enough to snap off a shot, which I wasn’t.  So we pinned our hopes on a second flush.  But before we could pursue the departed bird, another sputtered out of the same spot amid the welter of cottonwood saplings.

A young bird, still unschooled in evading hunters, went up and then swerved straight left on as predicable an arc as any woodcock ever does.  The bird crumpled at my shot, and we both watched it fall.  Willa was on it in seconds.  After delivering the first woodcock of the year to hand, she was eager to find another, but I calmed her down long enough for a selfie.

While tens or perhaps hundreds of thousands of Missourians hunt doves each year, woodcock hunters number only a few hundred.  I suspect we all are Cubs fans.  If we had a patron saint, it would be Don Quixote.  If you think quail hunters are die-hards, you never met a timberdoodle addict.

Clear cuts and abandoned fields develop into first-rate woodcock habitat at around 10 years and remain so for 10 to 15 years afterwards. Woodcock usage declines slowly as mature forest develops. Jim Low Photo
Clear cuts and abandoned fields develop into first-rate woodcock habitat at around 10 years and remain so for 10 to 15 years afterwards. Woodcock usage declines slowly as mature forest develops. Jim Low Photo

Part of the charm of hunting woodcock is the birds’ surpassing peculiarity.  Although technically they are shorebirds, you won’t find them in marshes.  Instead, they haunt wooded stream borders and adjacent uplands.  There, they probe sandy soil for earthworms, which comprise 70 percent of their diet.  Because they spend so much of their time nostril-deep in the ground, their eyes and ears have migrated to the top of their heads.  Their 3-inch beaks are prehensile, and are controlled by a Rube Goldberg arrangement of tendons that encircle their bony eye sockets before attaching to muscles beneath their skulls.  Their feet are set far back on their bodies, giving them an adorable, waddling gait.

At least so I’m told.  I’ve never actually seen one walk.  They tend to hold so tight, you practically have to launch them into the air with the toe of your boot.  And because their plumage is a perfect match for a leaf-littered forest floor, finding them – before flushing or after shooting – is next to impossible with unaided human senses.  That’s why virtually all woodcock hunting is done with dogs.  Timberdoodles’ tight-sitting tendency makes them the perfect game for training young pointing dogs.  It’s also just right for flushing dogs.  Spaniels tend to hunt methodically and close to their handlers, and retrievers can easily be taught to stay within woodcock shooting distance.

Speaking of shooting distance, it’s close.  Often very close.  My golden retriever flushes most birds within 20 yards of me, often it’s closer to 10.  This is good, because woodcock like cover so thick that you rarely get a clear shot beyond 30 yards.  Naturally, this affects gun and ammunition selection.  A light, fast-handling double gun gives you the best chance of getting off a shot with an appropriate choke.  I recently bought a Weatherby Orion with 26-inch barrels and a single-selective trigger.  I couldn’t wait to hunt woodcock with it.  But after two hunts, I have given up on it as a woodcock gun until I grow more accustomed to shifting the barrel selector in the excitement of a flush.  Instead, I’m sticking to guns with double triggers.

Fresh whitewash droppings are a sure sign that timberdoodles are present. Jim Low Photo
Fresh whitewash droppings are a sure sign that timberdoodles are present. Jim Low Photo

Fortunately, I own two guns that fit this description: the aforementioned Merkel side-by-side and a 1970s-vintage Zoli over-and-under.  Not so fortunately, the Merkel is choked full and extra-full.  The Zoli is choked full and modified.  The Merkel clearly was intended for pass-shooting driven birds, and the Zoli’s chokes are perfect for doves or pheasants.  Both are completely wrong for woodcock.

I solve this problem with spreader loads.  These shells include a cardboard baffle separating the shot column into four compartments inside the shot shell.  Once the shot leaves the barrel, the cardboard catches air and scatters the pellets, giving you a great killing pattern at about 15 yards, regardless of choke.  I load the tightest-choked barrel with a spreader shell and the other with a light load of No.  8 or 9 shot.  I learned long ago to reach for the

A woodcock’s skull and beak are a Rube Goldberg feat of engineering. Jim Low Photo
A woodcock’s skull and beak are a Rube Goldberg feat of engineering. Jim Low Photo

appropriate trigger for the target’s distance.  I hope one day to develop the same reflex for the Orion’s trigger selector.

Willa and I went out again today, Nov.  1.  We had four flushes.  I fired five shots.  We killed zero birds.  It was a wonderful hunt.

Yea Cubs.

Ride on, Don Quixote.e

 

Teeing Off for Bass

Posted on by stoadmin

Dion Hibdon (left) and David Ludwikoski were all smiles after catching big bass during last year's Missouri Invitational Fish and Golf Pro-Am at Lake of the Ozarks.

-Lake of the Ozarks and Old Kinderhook Golf Course COMBO

-Meet Dion Hibdon and many other Pro Bass Anglers

-Affordable Tickets for Meet & Greet/Banquet, Open to Public

Dion Hibdon (left) and David Ludwikoski were all smiles after catching big bass during last year's Missouri Invitational Fish and Golf Pro-Am at Lake of the Ozarks.
Dion Hibdon (left) and David Ludwikoski were all smiles after catching big bass during last year’s Missouri Invitational Fish and Golf Pro-Am at Lake of the Ozarks.

By Brent Frazee

So, what do bass fishing and golf have in common?

Not a lot if you’re Dion Hibdon, a nationally known pro bass fisherman.  Except for a few days each fall at Lake of the Ozarks.

That’s when pro bass fishermen team with golfers to compete in the Missouri Invitational Fish and Golf Pro-Am at Lake of the Ozarks in central Missouri.

Now in its second year, the event will be held November 16-18 at the Old Kinderhook Golf Course and Resort in Camdenton, Missouri.

For Hibdon, it will also mark the second time he has ever golfed.

“When I teed off, that’s the first time I ever had a golf club in my hands,” said Hibdon, who will compete in this year’s event with his sons, Payden and Lawson, and possibly his famous dad, Guido. “We’re fishermen, not golfers.  “But we agreed to do this as a fun thing. I’m glad we did.  I surprised myself. I made some good shots. Our team (in a scramble-type format) even played my ball a few times.”

The Hibdon boys will be back this fall for the unique tournament that attracted national attention in its inaugural year in 2015.  Other nationally known fishermen such as Casey Scanlon, Stacey King, Kevin Short, Mike McClelland, Jeremy Lawyer and James Watson will be paired with amateurs to chase bass and birdies.

Pro fisherman Casey Scanlon teed off during last year's Missouri Invitational Fish and Golf Pro-Am at Lake of the Ozarks.
Pro fisherman Casey Scanlon teed off during last year’s Missouri Invitational Fish and Golf Pro-Am at Lake of the Ozarks.

Here’s how the tournament, which will be based at Old Kinderhook, will work:

Tournament organizers Bob Renken, executive director of Old Kinderhook, and Bob Bueltmann, who runs the BassingBob.com website, hope to turn this event into a spectator sport.

Though the amateur field is full, the public can attend the banquet to meet and greet with the pro fishermen. Cost per ticket is $40. To purchase, go to the BassingBob.com website and go to the “Store” category.

The public also can follow their favorite pros on water and land. The fishermen will launch at 8:00 a.m. Nov. 16 and 18 at the Old Kinderhook ramp and will weigh in at 3:00 p.m. each day at the Old Kinderhook outdoors stage.  Golf will start at 11 a.m. on Nov. 17 and Renken encourages galleries to follow their favorite teams on the course. There will be no charge to spectators.

For more information on the Missouri Invitational, go to www.OldKinderhook.com or BassingBob.com. For information on Lake of the Ozarks, visit the Convention and Visitors Bureau’s website www.FunLake.com.

Last Chance for Missouri Parks, Soil and Water

Posted on by Jim Low

-Don’t let disgust with politics rob you and your children of productive soil, healthy water and outdoor fun 

-Support the low cost tax

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Streams where you can safely swim and whose fish you can safely eat are among the benefits of Missouri’s dedicated sales tax for parks, soil and water conservation. The Missouri DNR’s three trout parks are made to order for introducing youngsters to fishing. Missouri DNR photo

By Jim Low

With Election Day looming, it’s time to revisit a topic covered on this page in recent months.  Don’t panic! This isn’t about Trump or Clinton.  It’s about something much closer to home for Missourians – the state’s dedicated sales tax for state parks and for soil and water conservation.

In previous columns, I talked mainly about the tremendous economic, recreational and spiritual value of state parks like Bennett Spring and Johnson’s Shut-Ins.  That alone would justify the measly $6 per year that each Missourian pays annually through the one-tenth of 1-percent sales tax.  But parks are only one-third of the programs funded through the tax.  It also supports Missouri soil and water conservation.

To put this in perspective, consider where Missouri was before voters approved the parks, soil and water tax for the first time in 1984.  Fish from the Missouri River and other Show-Me State streams contained enough pesticides and other contaminants that health officials warned against eating them.  In a related tragedy, Missouri was hemorrhaging topsoil.  We were second in the nation in the amount of soil washing off our agricultural land.  Today, you can safely eat Missouri River catfish and Current River smallmouths, and soil loss to erosion is the second-smallest in the nation.

The most remarkable thing about how the sales tax has improved life in Missouri is that it was all done through positive incentives, not regulations.  Missourians never wanted to swim, boat and fish in polluted water.  They didn’t want to see their agricultural wealth wash into the Gulf of Mexico.  They simply needed to understand the seriousness of the problems and be offered practical ways to solve them.

With the $6 per person per year that Missourians gave them to work with, soil and water conservationists at the Missouri Department of Natural Resources (DNR) instituted market-based incentives for farmers to implement better soil-conservation practices.  This consisted mostly of sharing the cost of better agricultural practices enabling farmers to care for the soil and still make a living.  Measures included terracing and wiser tillage practices on cropland.  The DNR also helped ranchers install watering systems that kept livestock out of streams.  This prevented cattle from denuding stream corridors, trampling fragile banks and voiding biological waste into streams. Besides reducing soil erosion, these measures also protected water quality and fish habitat.

Missouri Parks offer quiet time for fishing and teaching kids how to share in the fun of the outdoors. Missouri DNR photo
Missouri Parks offer quiet time for fishing and teaching kids how to share in the fun of the outdoors. Missouri DNR photo

To further clean up water, the DNR helped farmers shift to practices that reduced the amount of fertilizer and herbicides needed to grow crops, thereby reducing runoff of these chemicals into ground and surface water.  The DNR also helped cities and businesses improve sewer and wastewater treatment systems so less pollution entered lakes and streams.

Six dollars per person per year pays for all this and helps fund dozens of state parks and historic sites that are open to all Missourians and attract visitors from out of state to spend millions of dollars in Missouri.  How else could Missourians possibly have gotten so much for so little? There must be a catch, right?

Missouri’s dedicated tax for parks, soil and water conservation helped stop the loss of topsoil that is the foundation for agriculture, the Show-Me State’s biggest industry. Jim Low Photo
Missouri’s dedicated tax for parks, soil and water conservation helped stop the loss of topsoil that is the foundation for agriculture, the Show-Me State’s biggest industry. Jim Low Photo

There is.  Missouri’s one-tenth of 1-percent sales tax for parks, soil and water conservation disappears unless voters reapprove it every 10 years.  It is up for renewal in the general election Nov.  8.  If you are so turned off by politics that you are considering not voting, think again.  Protecting Missouri’s parks, soil and water have nothing to do with politics.  It’s about our quality of life, our economy and our health.  Don’t let disgust with politics rob you and your children of the legacy of productive soil, healthy water and outdoor fun.  Vote “yes” on Nov.  8 to renew the parks, soil and water tax.

Crossbow Deer

Posted on by Jim Low

-Boundless Potential

-Youth Replenished for Aging Hunters

At under 40 yards, crossbows are a deadly and precision hunting tool that eliminates runaway waste, I donated this deer to the needy Food Kitchen. Jim Low Photo
At under 40 yards, crossbows are a deadly and precision hunting tool that eliminates runaway waste, I donated this deer to the needy Food Kitchen. Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

Only 7 a.m., and my mind already wandered.  The temperature was in the low 40s, not bad for bowhunting in early October.  I was excited about being in my favorite tree stand, 20 yards from the intersection of two deer trails, a creek and a clover field.  Yet, I had to discipline myself to stay a while longer before climbing down to have breakfast and run errands.  A moment later I was very glad I had.

A flash of motion in the pasture 100 yards away caught my eye. Before I could fully raise my crossbow, two does had jumped the fence onto our property, crossed the creek and bounded to within 40 yards.  Already spooked by something, they now were standing directly downwind of me and were on full alert, tails up, ears swiveling and noses trying to pinpoint the source of human scent.  The larger doe decided it was time to leave. She took a dozen quick, tense steps, moving cross-wind until she reached the trail junction a mere 20 yards from my stand.  There, she paused to test the wind again. It was a fatal mistake.

The sharp thwack of fiberglass limbs snapping forward was followed by a hollow “whop” as the bolt struck home.  Startled by the sound and taken through both lungs by a 1 1/8-inch broadhead, the doe bolted toward toward the creek bottom at the northern limit of my property.  A moment after she disappeared from sight, I heard a crash, then brief thrashing.  My first crossbow deer was unconscious within seconds of the shot.

I retrieved my bolt, which was buried 6 inches in the soil even after passing through ribs and vitals. Then I looked for a sprig of shrubby St.  John’s wort to place in the doe’s mouth.  It might seem silly to some, but I like the old Indian tradition of thanking the deer for giving its life.  After doing so, I set to work.

WHY A CROSSBOW?

I sold my compound bow last year as a concession to age.  Surgery on both wrists put me out of the bowhunting business several years ago and I missed it.  So, halfway through archery deer season, I got a hunting methods exemption card allowing me to hunt with a crossbow.  I never got a shot at a deer, but it felt good to be back in the game.

Today, no one needs an exemption to hunt with a crossbow in Missouri.  The Conservation Department made crossbows a legal method for the archery hunting starting this year.  This means that hunters with joint problems and those who lack the strength to draw and hold a vertical bow now can enjoy archery hunting.

My new bow – a Parker ThunderHawk – throws bolts, as crossbow arrows are called, at 320 feet per second – 221 mph.  The optional scope with a lighted, multi-dot reticle allows accurate shooting at dusk and dawn.  I also opted for a rope-and-pully device that makes cocking manageable for almost anyone.

Even with these technological advantages, the most important things that define archery hunting are as true with crossbows as with longbows.  Shots must be taken within 40 yards, 50 at most.  Beyond that, arrow drop is too rapid for accurate shooting.  As with vertical bows, shot placement is more critical than when hunting with a gun, because there is no devastating shock or ability to break large bones.  And if you miss your fist shot, the complicated cocking process makes a second shot with a crossbow even less likely than with a vertical bow.

My first crossbow kill was textbook, with the doe giving me a close, broadside shot, and the broadhead piercing both lungs.  If I had any doubts about the ThunderHawk’s ability to do a vertical bow’s job, they evaporated when I walked up on my doe.  She was a fine animal, sleek in her new winter coat and in the full flush of vigorous youth.  After checking and field-dressing her, I drove her to a nearby locker plant and donated her to the Share the Harvest program.  Her lean, organic, free-range meat will feed a family fallen experiencing hard times.

The short bolts (that’s what they call crossbow arrows) fly at about 220mph (320fps), faster than many vertical bow arrow speeds. Jim Low Photo
The short bolts (that’s what they call crossbow arrows) fly at about 220mph (320fps), faster than many vertical bow arrow speeds. Jim Low Photo

I did keep a few things, however.  One was her beautiful loin meat, which I harvested before driving to the locker plant.  I dropped these off at the home of an old friend.  Joel and his lovely wife, Marty, love venison, but declining health has ended his hunting career.  His delighted surprise when I handed him the prize cuts was worth their weight in gold.

I also kept memories of the crisp morning air, the blaze of sumac and dogwood leaves in the field edge and the inexpressible thrill of that moment when the doe’s life hung in the balance.  When she might have turned and run but didn’t.  When I might have decided to wait and see if a buck was trailing the pair of does.  When my shot might have missed.

Possibilities.  That’s what October is to me.  Boundless potential.  This might be the only deer I kill this year.  I might or might not shoot a turkey for Thanksgiving.  The spiraling woodcock might elude me and my dog, and ducks might arrive and be gone before I get a good crack at them.  This could be the last year I climb a tree and watch nature’s parade.  But in the middle of Missouri’s golden month, everything is still possible.

Missouri State Parks – Show Me a Sign!

Posted on by Jim Low
Johnson’s Shut-Ins State Park is a prime example of the high-quality outdoor experiences available free to all Missourians at state parks.

If you have visited one of Missouri’s 88 state parks and historic sites recently, you probably know that our park system – just like the national parks system – is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year. That’s good timing, because in a little more than a month Missourians will vote on whether to maintain their parks or allow them to wither away in order to save $6 a year in taxes. If that sounds like a stark choice, it is.

In the past 40 years, “tax” has become something of a four-letter word in many states. Up to now, Missouri has been an exception to this trend. In 1976, Show-Me State voters approved a sales tax of one-eighth of 1 percent to support conservation. In 1984 – well into the taxes-are-evil era, Missouri voters approved a one-tenth of 1 percent sales tax for state parks and soil and water conservation. There’s an important difference between these two taxes. The conservation sales tax is written permanently into the state’s constitution. The parks, soil and water conservation tax must be re-approved by voters every 10 years. Otherwise, it lapses.

So far, voters have twice renewed the tax that keeps our parks open, prevents millions of tons of our topsoil from washing down to the Gulf of Mexico and keeps our lakes, streams, springs and wells flowing clean. But as the old saying goes – ironically in this case – the only things that are certain in life are death and taxes. The continuation of the parks, soil and water tax is anything but certain. Free access to the outdoors is anything but certain. If too few people understand what is at stake when they go to the polls on Nov. 8, it could sound the death knell for parks like Bennett Spring, Johnson Shut-Ins, Taum Sauk Mountain, Current River, Elephant Rocks, Ha-Ha Tonka, Onondaga, Elephant Rocks, Lake of the Ozarks and Table Rock. These and other parks would have to reduce hours and services. Eventually some would be shuttered or sold off to private interests.

The same would be true of Arrow Rock, Mastodon, Nathaniel Boone Homestead, Mark Twain Birthplace and other state historic sites. In all, 88 places where Missourians go to remember their natural and cultural heritages are in peril if too many voters cast knee-jerk votes against a tax whose benefits are unknown to them. They need to know why they should want to continue paying for parks when they could reduce their tax burden by voting against it.

There are plenty of compelling economic reasons, such as the fact that a family of four pays just $24 a year for the privilege of visiting – with no entry fee – 53 state parks that preserve some of the best examples of the Show-Me State’s various types of forests, prairies, streams and lakes. Most Missourians don’t know that their parks generate more than $1 billion in tourism-related sales, much of it from out of state. They don’t know that parks support more than 14,000 jobs. That is a bargain by any measure.

Children young and old love scrambling around on rocks at Elephant Rocks State Park.

You can help ensure that the parks, soils and water tax is renewed. All you have to do is get a sign and place it in front of your house or business. The Conservation Federation of Missouri has signs at its office just west of the State Capitol Building at 728 W. Main Street in Jefferson City. They are open from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. weekdays. You might find it more convenient to pick up a sign at one of the Missouri Farm Bureau’s county offices. Or you can 573-634-2322 and make arrangements to receive signs. While you are at it, get several extras and ask friends who value Missouri state parks to put them in front of their homes. Talk to co-workers about the tax vote and explain to them why they should want to vote “Yes” to renew the tax. Another way to help is by liking the Citizens Committee Twitter account and Facebook page and sharing their posts and tweets. Every little bit helps.

Readers of a certain age will remember the refrain from the Joni Mitchell song Big Yellow Taxi: “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.” Don’t wait until your parks are gone. You can ensure that we continue to have places for families to camp, fish, hike and rediscover why Henry David Thoreau said, “In wildness is the preservation of the world.”

“Show Me”- Quest for Personal Best Bass

Posted on by Bill Hilts

Ozarks – Part III

bestbass1

“What goes around comes around.”

Many people believe in that statement and follow a path in life that subscribes to that way of thinking. To a certain extent, it worked for Scott Pauley and me during our recent visit to the “Show Me” State in and around Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri. Pauley, who is contracted out by the state’s Division of Tourism for promoting its fishing resources (hint, hint I Love NY people), visited Niagara USA a few years ago on his way back from attending the Outdoor Writers Association of America conference in Lake Placid. He enjoyed a couple of days of fishing, including some pretty darn good bass action on the Niagara Bar, during his September stop-over. He offered to take us out with the hopes of showing off his home state. More on that a little later.

We ended Part II by checking in to Holiday Shores Resort (www.holidayshoresresort.com), located between Osage Beach and Lake Ozark. We unpacked the Tahoe and headed over to the Tropic Island, a 75-foot luxury yacht that offers 90-minute narrated cruises around the lake at a nominal fee. Captain Omer Clark runs a tight ship and the trip was very informative (www.tropicislandcruises.com). Back to our temporary home at Holiday Shores. What was cool about this place was that we had our choice of three different floors for sleeping options.

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We were up bright and early to meet up with Marjorie Beenders and Kyle Stewart for breakfast (at Stewart’s, of course, for another cinnamon roll and a pork chop breakfast) for a recap of what we had experienced so far and plans for what was yet to come . Of course, they were happy the trip was going well, but it’s what they expected. They had much pride in the area, as well as the state. They couldn’t wait to “show me” more.

Off to Lake of the Ozarks State Park (www.mostateparks.com), the state’s flag ship park at nearly 18,000 acres. Not only is it the biggest, it is also the most popular as far as visitation is concerned. I’m still amazed that there is no fee to enter any of the state parks in Missouri. A total of 12 hiking trails are available. That’s not all though. The park offers up a self-guided aquatic trail, mountain biking options and equestrian trails for those that like to ride horses. The park also has boat rentals, public ramps and docks. Fishing is always just a cast away.

Inside the park was another attraction we needed to see: Ozark Caverns. This one was entirely different than the Bridal Cave. There was no internal lighting (we had to carry lanterns on the tour) and we couldn’t take anything extra into the caverns (like wallets or cameras) due to the threat of White-Nose Syndrome (WNS) spores being carried out and transported to another area. WNS is decimating bat populations throughout the continent. Since it was first discovered in Howes Cave in New York in 2006, more than a million bats have already died. It’s important to become informed on the issues.

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The tour itself was very interesting, featuring an impressive “angel shower” – one of only 14 in the world and the only one in the United States open to the public. The “angel shower” pours a never-ending stream of water out of appears to be solid rock and into a bath tub made of calcite. The source of the water, despite some intensive research, has not been discovered. For more information on the caverns, call 573-346-2500.

After we left the caverns, we took a quick tour around the park and visited the Swinging Bridges of Brumley – a historical attraction off the beaten path. We actually caught some of the locals doing some “bridge jumping” (not recommended) as we drove across the 400 foot long antiquated structure. It has stood the test of time, an early adaptation to the construction of Lake of the Ozarks back in 1931.

Not knowing how far we were from any kind of a gas station (and with our gas gauge flashing an early warning) we used Onstar to locate the nearest petrol store to avert any kind of embarrassment. Technology can be wonderful. Onstar sent the Tahoe directions immediately to the navigation system and we were filling up within five minutes. We were closer to civilization than we thought. Tip: check the gas tank!

We hit a couple of wineries during our stay, finding many of the selections to our liking. Shawnee Bluff Winery (www.shawneebluffwinery.com) in Lake Ozark offered a great view overlooking the lake with an indoor tasting room and bistro that was pleasing to the palate. There were several other wineries in the area, too – a great way to break up the trip.

While golfing didn’t fit into our itinerary this time around, the area offered up some amazing courses. If you enjoy hitting the little white ball around, you’ll want to check out this region for sure. The only golfing we did was at Sugar Creek for a quick round of miniature golf. Even those courses are elaborate, giving us the option of two different 18-hole courses. (www.sugarcreekminigolf.com). As we’ve been saying all along, fun for the whole family!

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Another side trip was to Tour L’Osage Caviar facilities, a subsidiary to Osage Catfisheries, Inc. Founded by Jim Kahrs in 1953, the caviar side of things blossomed because of the declining wild sturgeon populations in the Caspian Sea. In 1981, the family began paddlefish production – a fish found abundantly in the lake – and started its “paddlefish ranching program” in 1984.

“Aquaculture is a huge part of our business right now,” said Steve Kahrs, part of the next generation of family running the show. “We have 32 different species of fish that we offer to aquariums and research facilities around the world. You can see some of our fish in Bass Pro and the aquarium in Scottsdale, Arizona, to name but a few.”

The icing on the cake, so to speak, was the final fishing trip courtesy of Pauley. Big Ed Franko, Lake of the Ozarks fishing guide (www.bigedsguideservice.com) and co-owner of Bass & Baskets Bed and Breakfast in Lake Ozark (www.bassandbaskets.com) with his wife, Deb, also offered to help take our little group out in the morning before the sun chased us indoors. It was going to be a hot one!

bestbass5We met at Big Ed’s lakefront accommodation and boat dock. Pauley was already there. We hopped on board and within five minutes we were fishing. Laurie Calvert from Oregon City, Oregon, was the first to create excitement with hauling in a four and a half pound largemouth – her first fish ever! She was bouncing a rubber worm along the bottom. Her husband, Joe, will now have to include her on future fishing outings!!

Everyone caught fish for the few hours we were on the water. Crankbaits, swim baits and rubber worms were the three most popular enticements. It was near the end of our trip when my rod doubled over while drifting a rubber worm in 25 feet of water. Several times the fish stripped out line. Finally, after about a five minute battle, we pulled in a hefty six pound largemouth – a personal best. What a great way to end our trip, after exploring a new area and making new friends along the way. That’s what it’s all about. We can cross the Ozarks off of our bucket list, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be back for some more fun in the sun and on the water.

Be sure to check out the Ozarks Convention and Visitor Bureau’s website at www.FunLake.com; 1-800-FUN-LAKE.

Close Encounters of the Bird Kind

Posted on by Jim Low

It’s amazing what you see if you take time to be there for natural events.

birdkind1
Hummingbirds are among the most amazing flying critters to teach us about airborne direction control.  Joe Forma Photo

A while back, as I sat working on an article, two hummingbirds were playing keep-away with the nectar feeder outside my office window.  One would be peacefully sipping away when the other would scream in from nowhere, doing a passable imitation of an F-16.  Not much later, the roles would be reversed.  Sometimes they banked so sharply that their wings produced a sound exactly like rubber tires squealing on a tight turn.  I enjoyed this show all day long and around sunset, when the intensity of the light outside and in my office were roughly equal, I heard another squeal of wings and glanced up just in time to see one of the hummers fly straight into the screen on my office window!

I thought it would bounce off with a broken neck, but to my amazement, his momentum had merely pushed his beak through the screen’s nylon mesh nearly up to his eyeballs.  As I watched in wonder, the trapped hummer continued the hovering pace of his wingbeats, holding his rear half in the air.  I immediately shouted to my wife to come quick, but nothing short of warp speed would have been quick enough.  After regaining his composure, the little guy threw his transmission in reverse and revved the throttle to full speed.  His beak came unstuck with an audible “Poik!” and after fixing me with his gaze for a nanosecond he was off like a shot.

This fantastic glimpse into the world of hummingbirds required no special equipment of knowledge, only being there to witness it.  That’s often the way with natural revelations.  Some of my most memorable nature experiences have been only peripherally related to hunting, fishing or whatever other pretext took me outdoors.

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Another one that sticks in my mind occurred as I sat in a tree stand waiting for an unsuspecting deer to wander within arrow range.  I was cold enough to begin thinking of breakfast when a barred owl hooted a couple hundred yards away.  Since I was about to climb down anyway, I hooted back.  Moments later, the owl glided silently past, alighting on a branch a few feet higher than me, perhaps 30 yards away.  He immediately turned on the branch and stared directly at me.  I knew that an owl has the uncanny ability to fix the distance and direction of sound.  I guess that’s not surprising, since they hunt in the dark.  But for this bird to have pinpointed my location from such a distance startled me.  I was in full camouflage, including a face mask, so I didn’t look particularly like a human.  Nevertheless, he had me pegged.

We stared at each other for a long time, neither blinking.  I finally decided that since the jig clearly was up, I might just as well have a little fun.  I hooted at him again.  Within a moment, he launched from his perch with his wings partially folded, quickly gaining speed in his downward swoop on a trajectory right toward my tree.  Unfolding his wings, he completed a parabola that brought him straight up at me.  I might have flinched if I hadn’t been so fascinated.  Just as he came up to my eye level he banked subtly to my right, ticking the tree trunk behind my ear with the tip of his outermost, right wing feather.  The message, as I understood it was, “You’ve been warned.”

Another incident that comes to mind involved a guy I wrote an article about many years ago.  He was going through several hundred gallons of sugar water each year feeding hummingbirds and I paid him a visit to see the swarms of ruby-throats that visited his feeders each day in September.  He would sit in a lawn chair beneath three of his many feeders just enjoying the show.  Sometimes he could get hummers to land on his outstretched finger.

Years later I got a call from the guy.  He thought I would be interested in something he had seen that day.  A roadrunner had taken up residence at his house, and he was really enjoying watching it run down lizards, snakes, grasshoppers and other stuff.  Then, one evening the roadrunner sidled up beneath a nectar feeder and stood still as a statue as birds zoomed in and out.  Then with lightning speed, it jumped up and snatched one of the hummer’s in mid-air.  “Imagine,” he said, “An animal fast enough to catch a hummingbird!”

If you are like me, you might be wondering if the last thing the ill-fated hummer heard was, BEEP-BEEP!

Lake of the Ozarks – Part 2

Posted on by Bill Hilts

Ozarks Attractions Abound Above and Beneath the Water, and Below the Ground Too

The clean water and fun to be found at Lake of the Ozarks is for kids too.

Leaving Alhonna Resort on the shores of Lake of the Ozarks was bittersweet. We felt we had only scratched the surface and we begged for more as we pulled away in our Chevy Tahoe. The Tahoe was made for this terrain. Every driveway seemed perpendicular along the lake, dealing with the tops of the hills that now surrounded the lake after the valleys below were flooded back in 1931. We were driving the 2016 LTZ version, a perfect fit for two couples with lots of luggage. Of course, with a third seat in the back, it’s also a great vehicle for the family. The 5.3 Liter V-8 VVT with direct injection and cylinder deactivation gave us the power we needed. We could have trailered up to 8,600 pounds had we wanted to, and the next trip we just might have a pontoon boat, fully loaded!

Our first stop for the morning was a breakfast that legends are made of. Kyle Stewart (no relation) who had put together an itinerary for us, recommended a place in Lake Ozark called Stewart’s. We were told to order their famous cinnamon rolls, as big as a “catcher’s mitt.” Sandy and I ordered one to split; Joe and Laurie Calvert split one as well. No exaggeration, they were bigger than a catcher’s mitt! More like a soccer ball! And they were delicious. I also ordered their famous pork tenderloin smothered in gravy (if my doctor is reading this, I did have plenty of exercise to work it off as you will read about). It covered the plate. Not your standard dinner plates, one of the big oval ones! Hash browns and toast rounded out the monster platter. Yes, I’m a food guy and I appreciate quality.

Bridal Cave, with calcite deposits that make stalactites, stalagmites, soda straws provide magical photo moments.

As we stuffed ourselves back into the Tahoe, we realized we wouldn’t need lunch. The next part of the lake we would visit was the area in and around Camdenton. The first attraction we came to was Bridal Cave (www.bridalcave.com), one of the largest caves in the state. Missouri has a wealth of caves and caverns, hitting the 7,000 mark just recently. When it’s all said and done, the Show-Me State will be number one when it comes to overall numbers within Missouri boundaries. This cave was cool – literally and figuratively. Calcite deposits with stalactites, stalagmites, soda straws and so much more mesmerized the folks on the tour. There was a connection with Western New York where they announced the “Frozen Niagara” calcite formation. More than 2,500 couples have been married in Bridal Cave or renewed their vows – another connection with the Honeymoon Capital. This is a must see for the entire family.

Geologically speaking, Missouri is littered with “karst” topography, a landscape that is filled with sinkholes, caves, natural bridges, large springs and underground streams. Many of the caves in the state can be found on private land. However, there are many on public land, too. For example, nearby Ha Ha Tonka State Park – recently named by USA Today readers as the fourth best state park in the country – has 19 caves recorded within its boundaries so far (www.mostateparks.com). It was a beautiful park and we even hiked up a castle trail that took us up to old ruins on a bluff overlooking the Niangua arm of Lake of the Ozarks, a spot we would be fishing the next morning.

There is no admission fee to enter any of the state parks in Missouri. Here we visit the Ruins at Ha Ha Tonka State Park.

When we stopped into the Visitors Center at Ha Ha Tonka, we immediately found out that there is no admission fee into any of the state parks in Missouri, thanks to a dedicated funding source (with the exception of camping sites). The public land was just that, for the public to use. What a novel idea! With 88 parks in the state, they will be celebrating a milestone next year (2017) – 100 years of the state’s natural and cultural attractions. Pick up a copy of the state’s Parks Centennial Passport. Earn a stamp by visiting each of those parks and the first 1,000 people receive a prize. Five grand prizes will be up for grabs, too. Last year, some 19 million people visited Missouri parks (www.mostateparks.com).

Next stop was our accommodations for the evening – Old Kinderhook (www.oldkinderhook.com). If you are looking for quality in the way of lodging, golf, fishing and dining options, this facility was top notch. The golf course is ranked second in the state and our fishing guide was none other than Casey Scanlon, a Bassmaster Elite Series Pro who lives on the lake. If you want to treat yourself to something special, this place was amazing – really! After checking in, we enjoyed one of the best meals we’ve had in a long, long time in the Trophy Room – fine dining at its best. Accolades came pouring out after that meal from all four of us.

Old Kinderhook offers quality lodging, golf, fishing and dining options, this facility was top notch, so was our 2016 Tahoe LTZ.

Bright and early the next morning, Scanlon picked Joe and me up at sunrise to fish the lake. This is his home waters and he won the Bassmaster Open on nearby Table Rock Lake a few years ago. Originally from Kansas City, he’s been fishing the Elite Series for five years now. In fact, he had just returned from the Elite Series event on Cayuga Lake in New York in June – just a couple hours from where I live.

BASS Elite Angler Casey Scanlon with a nice bass from Lake of the Ozarks.

“This is a great body of water to fish,” said Scanlon, as he reeled in his first fish, a largemouth, just five minutes into the trip. For this time of year, large rubber worms on a jig head was a favorite enticement. “The lake is over 90 miles long, great for largemouth and spotted bass. My favorite time is November and December when spinnerbaits and top waters work the best. April and May is also excellent when suspended jerk baits will dominate as a favorite technique. To give you an idea about how this lake fishes, it consistently takes 20 pounds or more per day to win a tournament here. There are lots of three and four pounders here and you can catch fish up to and over 10 pounds. In fact, two 10 pounders have been weighed in already this year. Fishing has really been great this season because of the added water flow coming through the system due to the heavy rains earlier.”

Almost on cue, Calvert’s rod doubled over and he fought a monster under Scanlon’s Nitro Bass Boat. When it finally came to net, it was over four pounds – Joe’s personal best. After a couple of quick pictures, we released the fish to fight another day.

Primary forage in the lake for these bass is gizzard shad and is the preferred food source. There are also threadfin shad. An underrated fish in these waters is walleye … and no one fishes for them. If someone came in here and targeted walleye, the potential is very good. Night fishing could be a way to approach old marble eye, but there may be some competition. Because the lake has turned into a recreational playground for watercraft during the middle part of the day, some bass tournaments are now being held at night to deal with the mid-day turbulence and to battle the summer heat. Heat index during the hottest part of the day would hit over 100 degrees and one day it hit 108. It didn’t stop us from enjoying ourselves though.

Back to the hotel for breakfast and check-out. Again, we didn’t want to leave. Next stop on our Ozarks experience was Holiday Shores Resort (www.holidayshoresresort.com), another quality experience but entirely different from the other two accommodations we sampled. Owner Lori Piedt runs an excellent operation, featuring 26 cottages overlooking the lake at Osage Beach. Again, the facility was well equipped as a one stop shop for families to enjoy the waters of the lake or relax in the uniquely-shaped cottages. Every cottage has an outside deck with a grill and one night we cooked up burgers as the sun set. What a relaxing time.

Holiday Shores offers visitors the opportunity to rent one of its 20 covered and fully electric boat slip at a nominal price. There is a boat launch available for guests if you bring your own boat or jet ski. They also rent paddleboards, paddleboats and chill rafts. There is a swimming pool or you can take advantage of a swim dock in the lake. Our last part of the trip will wind down next week with a personal best largemouth bass! Check out the Ozarks Convention and Visitor Bureau’s website at www.FunLake.com; 1-800-FUN-LAKE.

When Fish Don’t Bite

Posted on by Jim Low
Finding a turtle digging a nest was a bonus for the author on a recent fishing trip.

Once-in-a-Lifetime Experiences Can Happen

I’m not the world’s greatest angler. The average outing sees me catch few fish and small ones at that. Not infrequently, I catch none at all. That’s how I came to be an expert in what to do when fish aren’t biting.

A recent trip is a case in point. Last Saturday, a friend and I drove down to Barlow Ford on the Gasconade River with two goals. First, I wanted to show Scott Gerlt a smallmouth honey hole that I discovered while “researching” a recently published article for Missouri Conservationist Magazine. Second, I wanted him to coach me on catching smallmouths with a fly rod.

We arrived at the gravel bar about the same time as two families towing a battered cargo trailer jammed with 10 kayaks. Curious how they knew about this remote spot, I asked one of the dads if they lived somewhere nearby. No, he said, they were from Marthasville, roughly 100 miles away. He asked where I was from. When I told him Jefferson City, he ventured a guess, saying, “I guess you read the article in the Conservationist, too. My cover was blown, so I admitted having written the article.

“I thought you looked familiar!” he exclaimed. He seemed genuinely pleased to meet the guy who had encouraged him, his fishing buddy and their families to explore the upper Gasconade. I’d like to believe that he also was a little impressed at meeting me, which is why I waited until the kayak armada was out of sight before wetting a line. I knew he would probably be the last sentient being I would impress that day. Heaven knows the fish seldom are awe-struck at my fishing prowess.

Scott doesn’t own a kayak, so we were in my Grumman Sport Boat, which is a pretty decent fly-casting platform. We went to the top end of the big bluff pool upstream from Barlow Ford, did a little wade-fishing farther upstream and then got back in the boat and drifted down through the deep pool with tall bluffs and a boulder-studded bottom. I had caught a really nice smallmouth in this pool the last time I was there, so I was optimistic. This time, however, the fish weren’t having any of it. I caught four tiny green and long-eared sunfish. Scott duplicated my catch and added a 10-inch smallie.

I attributed the slow action to the fact that it had rained 48 hours earlier and the river was falling. Whatever the cause, I was less than enthused about our prospects as we made our way back upstream for another drift through the hole. That’s when I spotted my first excuse for not fishing. About 30 yards away, on the shallow side if the pool, a turtle surfaced and seemed to be craning its neck slowly from side to side. At first I thought it was a big soft-shelled turtle, but then I noticed something odd about its neck and head. I expected it to be slender, with a pointy nose, but this seemed too slender and too flexible, even for a softshell.

By this time, Scott was looking at it too and we simultaneously decided the “neck” was a snake. We dropped our rods and began paddling to get a closer look at a medium-sized snapping turtle that was in the process of eating a water snake. That was something neither of us had ever seen before. As we got closer, Scott continued sculling while I fumbled to get my camera out of its dry bag. Then I had to remove the wide-angle lens and replace it with a telephoto. Meanwhile, Scott had trouble maneuvering the clunky Sport Boat against the current from his position in the bow. The net result was that we ended up farther from the action than when we started, and the turtle eventually took his dinner elsewhere. But the experience reminded me of a day last year when I stopped for a nap on a sandy bank a short way upstream and discovered a red-eared slider turtle digging a nest.

The second drift was pretty much like the first. We threw streamers, mohair leeches, wiggle minnows and cone-headed wooly buggers without much effect. That seemed like a good reason to eat lunch, which killed half an hour. Then we did another drift through the pool. Third verse, same as the first. If anything, the fishing had deteriorated.

That’s when Scott’s attention wandered to the bluff, which had what looked like a pretty sizeable cave entrance. I noticed a pile of freshly deposited gravel at the base of the bluff in front of the cave. To me, that indicated that water had been flowing out of the cave at a pretty smart clip during recent rains. I pointed this out to Scott, and we agreed that we ought to explore the cave. Down went the rods again.

Sure enough, a nice trickle of chill water issued from the cave. When we got up near the entrance, we were delighted to discover a torrent of cold air also issuing from the cavern. Using his cell phone as a flashlight, Scott led the way back some 100 feet into the cave, noting a couple of branching corridors along the way. Not having a helmet or a flashlight, it was only a matter of time until I cracked my head on a stalactite, so I went back to the boat and grabbed my camera. This was a photographic subject that wasn’t going anywhere! I got photos of Scott and the cave.

Scott used his cell phone as a flashlight to explore the cave we discovered.

In spite of the day’s heat and humidity, we were sort of chilled by the time we got back to the boat. At the end of that drift, we decided to cut our losses and go home. We also agreed that the day had been salvaged by the snake-eating turtle and cave exploration.

Some of the best things about days afloat or afield are the unexpected, once-in-a-lifetime bonuses they deliver. Here are some other things I’ve discovered that turn lousy fishing days into a great memories:

You can probably add to this list. A wise track coach once told me that life throws everyone curves from time to time. You can’t change what happens to you in life, but what’s more important is what you do with adversity. So next time the fish refuse to cooperate, shift gears and turn lemons into lemonade.

Hunter Preparations – Mixed Bag

Posted on by Jim Low

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-Doves, Ducks and Deer are sure to be on hunters’ minds this week
-Missouri Hunters Smile and Say, “Whata’ We Hunting Today?”

We made it! The long dry spell for hunting is nearly over, and Show-Me State hunters once again will be savoring the piquant smell of burned gunpowder and the twang of bowstrings.  Some of you will have taken the hunting monkey off your back by pursuing squirrels or woodchucks for the past three months, but that’s cold comfort for those whose favorite pastimes involve winged game or deer.

Dove, snipe and rail seasons lead the way, opening September 1.  Waterfowl are next, with this year’s early teal season opening September 10.  Archery deer and turkey season launches Sept.  15, followed by rabbits, firearms turkey hunting and the early Canada goose season October 1.  One of my favorites, woodcock season, opens October 15 and duck season gets under way in the North Zone October 29.  Quail and pheasant seasons open November 1, and firearms deer season isn’t far behind.
Here are some random thoughts about this panoply of autumn excitement.

DOVES

I previously covered safety considerations and the abundance of hunting opportunities in hunting areas managed specifically for doves and dove hunters by the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC).  So here’s a tip to killing more doves: Go snake-eyed.  Nothing makes hitting a dove harder than not spotting the bird until it’s on top of you.  Because they can come from any compass point or elevation, our hunter natural tendency is to constantly swivel our head in all directions.  Don’t do it.  Motion registers in our brains when the image of an object moves across our retinas.  Putting your retina itself in motion by turning your head or cutting your eyes left, right, up and down only makes it harder to see the tiny motion of an approaching dove 200 yards out.

Instead, when waiting for a shot, pick a spot near the center of the horizon where doves are most likely to appear and settle your gaze there, as if you were a snake waiting to ambush its prey.  Don’t maintain focus on a particular spot.  Let your eyes drift apart, go a little walleyed.  Sitting with head and eyes still, you will be amazed at how easily you notice the movement of an incoming bird.  You won’t be able to see birds that are out of your peripheral vision, but that would be equally true if you were rubber-necking.

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TEAL

This works equally well for teal, which often fly low and fast and are on your decoys before you have time to blink, let alone raise a gun.  Speaking of teal and guns, these early migrating speedsters call for slightly different hardware and ammunition than full-sized ducks.  Teal – especially green wings – tend to fly in tight little flocks.  As a result, it’s easy to knock down more than one with a single shot.  I have killed as many as three with one trigger pull.  I was elated about that.  I did it deliberately and was over the moon at the result.  However, the intervening years have landed me in a place where I like to savor a hunt for hours, rather than end it in minutes.  Also, as you approach a limit, the possibility of killing more than one teal at a shot becomes a liability rather than an asset.

That’s why I now use a tighter choke during the early teal season than I do later in the year.  I use a full choke in my autoloader and choose an ancient Merkel side-by-side choked full and extra full or an Antonio Zoli over-under, choked full and modified.  Because maintaining adequate pattern density isn’t an issue with these chokes, I now use Number 4 steel instead of Number 6, as I once did.  The combination of tight choke and large shot size translates into many fewer birds crippled or lost.  If you hit a bird with a full choke and Number 4 shot, it’s going down for the count and the tight pattern allows you to target one bird out of a compact flock.

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BIG DUCKS

The regular waterfowl season is what I dream about the other nine months of the year.  To maximize my chances of getting some good hunts, I never miss a chance to apply for reservations at MDC’s 15 intensively managed wetland areas.  Throughout the season, I apply twice a week for reservations at Grand Pass, Eagle Bluffs or Otter Slough conservation areas through the Quick Draw system.  The first year I drew an astonishing four reservations.  For the past two years, I’ve come up with goose eggs.  Fortunately, I have friends who also use Quick Draw and since as many as four people can hunt on one QD reservation, I have gotten to hunt these areas every year.

The other opportunity I never miss is applying for a hunt under the regular waterfowl reservation system used to allocate hunting opportunities at MDC’s other 12 managed wetland areas.  MDC accepts applications for these areas from September 1 through 18.  Successful applicants receive notification October 1.  Finally, I take my chances at the slots allocated for hunters without reservations.  This involves arriving early at my chosen area and standing in the “Poor Line” with other reservation-less hunters in hopes of pulling a low number and getting to hunt.  When I strike out, I go to Plan B, driving to an open-hunting area with wetland habitat or taking my small boat to a sandbar on the Missouri River to hunt.

DEER

As Show-Me State deer hunters know, Missouri is in the early stages of a slow-moving epidemic.  Chronic wasting disease (CWD) is a brain-wasting disease of deer, elk and moose caused by malformed proteins that are too primitive to even be called organisms.  That doesn’t prevent them from killing every deer they infect.

In an effort to slow the spread of the disease, MDC has instituted several measures to track the spread of the disease and reduce risk factors for spreading it.  In the past year, the number of counties where MDC is conducting CWD surveillance has increased to the point where it is no longer logistically feasible for the agency to cull deer for testing.  In order to continue surveillance, MDC is requiring hunters to submit for tissue sampling any deer taken in the 29-county CWD Management Zone during opening weekend of the November Portion of firearms deer season – November 12 and 13.  You can bring the whole deer or the head only, as long as you leave it attached to at least 6 inches of neck.
MDC will maintain 75 sampling stations in the 29 counties of the CWD Management Zone.  They will be open from 7:30 a.m. until 8 p.m.  November 12 and 13.  Their locations, including directions, are listed in the 2016 Missouri Fall Deer and Turkey Hunting Regulations booklet, which is available wherever hunting permits are sold or online.

I have already been fiddling with decoys and have inventoried my ammunition so I can fill any gaps during fall sales.  I even put on my muddy waders and climbed into the jet tub to pinpoint the source of last year’s wet crotch (I have a very patient wife).  The weather forecast shows high 70s for the dove opener, which means that teal will be filtering down from the Dakotas by September 10.  Lord, how I love this time of year!  At this point, it’s all promise.

Zinging Meteorites in August Night Sky

Posted on by Jim Low

Spectacular Perseid Meteor Showers
Extraordinary Celestial Moments

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As an indifferent star-gazer at best, I am naturally skeptical about astronomy geek predictions of “spectacular” celestial events. They usually leave me wondering why I got up at 2:00 a.m. and risked mosquito or frostbite for sights that turned out to be ho-hum.

Last night, however, brought a convergence that was difficult to resist.

For a solid month, news media have been all atwitter about the approach of the Perseid Meteor Shower. I have never paid much attention to this annual event. I am content to get my shooting-star fix during Orionid Shower in October, when I customarily spend pre-dawn hours in a deer stand. However, I have been needing to get up to my duck club to clear beaver work from drains and since the location in rural Chariton County is perfect for stargazing, the time seemed right.

I arrived around 10:00 p.m. with plenty of time to stop by the cabin. I unpacked my clothes for tomorrow’s project and turned on the water heater and air conditioning. These light chores done, I grabbed a cold beverage, my ThermaCell mosquito chaser and my folding recliner out of the truck and parked myself on the lawn, facing northeast as instructed by EarthSky.org.

One glance showed the half-moon was still a little above the western horizon, obscuring all but the brightest stars, so I fetched my camera out of the truck, hoping to catch a few meteor tracks. By the time I finished fiddling with that, the moon was gone, and the show was on.

Lake of the Ozarks Region

Posted on by Bill Hilts

Water Sports, Family Fun, Quiet Fishing, Orange Sunsets and More

“There’s a beauty in the river, There’s a beauty in the stream, There’s a beauty in the forest at night, When the lonely night bird screams, And there’s so much time for singin’, And so much time for words, There’s so much time to listen, And so much time to be heard”….Ozark Mountain Daredevils

Growing up in the “Land of the Ozarks” had to offer a certain amount of inspiration for the band, Ozark Mountain Daredevils. After a recent visit to Central Missouri, we could certainly relate to the lyrics of their song. We could even add a verse or two of our own as we spent a week in and around the Lake of the Ozarks – the largest man-made lake in North America. The state motto – “Show Me” – was fulfilled time and time again …

It started with a gentle prodding by Marjorie Beenders, a tourism maven in the state who kept asking when we were going to come and visit every time we saw her. After doing a little research on the lake and the region, we couldn’t take it any longer. We graciously accepted her invitation to check out “the best recreational lake in the nation.” That was after a national vote conducted by two separate groups – USA Today and 10 Best. It would live up to its name.

After a week that was jam-packed with activities, where do you even start? At the beginning of course! We left Lockport in a 2016 Chevy Tahoe LTZ packed to the gills. We picked up Joe and Laurie Calvert of Oregon City, Oregon, at the St. Louis airport along the way, adding a few more bags of luggage. The drive from New York was roughly 17 hours and it was a comfort ride all the way. We were impressed with the various alerts on the vehicle including the blind side zone that flashed warning in our mirrors and gave us gentle vibrations whenever some threat became available on the road or in parking lots. More on the vehicle later.

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We arrived at Lake Ozark and our first destination, the Alhonna Resort and Marina (www.TheAlhonnaResort.com) in the middle of a thunderstorm. It had been so long since we had seen rain, we didn’t mind the drops as we hurriedly unloaded the vehicle. Timing is everything as the rain stopped long enough to finish the job. After a great breakfast outside at the in-house “Bobbers” Restaurant, we headed out to Willmore Lodge (www.willmorelodge.com) at Bagnell Dam – where it all began for Lake of the Ozarks. Along the way, we continued to find New York connections, like the fact that this lodge was an Adirondack-style lodge that was now a museum documenting the formation of the lake back in 1931 (a lodge built in 1930).

The dam (that created the lake) was actually built from 1929 to 1931, employing some 40,000 people along the way – at a time when the country desperately needed it. Workers from every state, as well as from 9 countries, were employed, making it the largest and last major dam in America built entirely with private financing. To make this project happen, 22 different towns and villages had to be destroyed and relocated. Approximately 30,000 acres of timber land had to be cleared. Over 900 miles of fences and numerous buildings had to be removed. A total of 32 cemeteries were moved to higher ground along with other scattered graves.

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When the dam was finally completed, the Osage River provided most of the water. It took three months to fill up. The end result was a lake that was 94 miles long, providing 1,375 miles of shoreline. Average depth is 60 feet. It is almost entirely privately owned as far as the shoreline is concerned, allowing residents to build properties within a few feet of the water. Alhonna was a good example of that, allowing us to sit on a porch overlooking the water … and fish if we wanted to. In the neighboring cabin, we watched them fish off a similar porch and reel in bass and bluegill on a consistent basis.

After a little driving around to get our bearings, we headed back to Alhonna to take a paddleboat out for a couple of hours. Joe and I opted to not take fishing rods for this trip because of the funny looks we received from the ladies when we mentioned trolling.      We also made arrangements to take out a fishing pontoon boat the next morning to really get a feel for the lake from the water and do a little fishing along the way.

The next day started with another breakfast at Bobbers following by gathering up all the gear for the pontoon boat ride. Since it was early morning, the lake hadn’t really come alive with activity yet. It was peaceful as we motored 10 miles up the lake. As I rigged up a rod for Joe, I sent a crankbait toward a downed tree along the shoreline – explaining the use of the spinning rod along the way. It took about 15 seconds to catch my first fish, a nice largemouth that hit a new Berkley bait that mimicked a small shad, the top forage in the lake. It proved to be the winner for the daily scratch-off contests that filled our time in Missouri.

We motored to different areas around the lake, hoping to find some active fish along the way. Magnificent homes stood out as sentinels to the lake. We all agreed it was a beautiful area with lots of potential. It should be on everyone’s bucket list of places to visit. In fact, Sandy went so far as to say that if we won the lottery, we would be getting a home here.

lakeoftheozarks4Alhonna Resort has everything you need to spend some quality time with family and friends. The facility offers up a full service marina with over 25 rental boats – everything from bass boats and pontoon fishing boats to ski boats, pleasure pontoons and deck boats. Non-motorized water craft is also part of the mix including kayaks, paddleboards and the paddleboats we sampled. In addition, there’s a nice pool, both indoors and out, to cool off in – something we needed for the week we were there. And if you show up when the weather is a little cooler, they even have an enclosed fishing dock with wood stoves! It seems as though Mike and Sheryl Elia have thought of everything in the 37 years that they’ve been running the operation.

Our cabin made us feel right at home with a full kitchen and more. It was clean and comfortable, the hospitality was top notch.

Our final evening at Alhonna was a light show offered up by Mother Nature herself, as a spectacular lightning display lit the skies all around us. Three nights went much too quickly and we wanted to stay longer, but like we mentioned earlier, we were just scratching the surface. It was time to move on. We’ll continue with part two next week.

In the meantime, check out the Ozarks Convention and Visitor Bureau’s website at www.FunLake.com; 1-800-FUN-LAKE. We were singing our way to the second phase of our journey …

Smallmouth Changes in Wind for Missouri Anglers

Posted on by Jim Low

Trophy Fish, Regular Fish, Fun Fishing and Healthy Fishery is Goal

Many anglers consider the opportunity to catch a bragging-sized smallmouth more important than the ability to take fish home to eat. If you have an opinion about proposed changes to Missouri smallmouth bass and goggle-eye (rock bass) regulations, visit mdc.mo.gov/contact-engage and share your thoughts with the Missouri Conservation Commission.

At their regular meeting on June 24, the Missouri Conservation Commission heard a staff presentation that leads me to believe that change is in the air for smallmouth bass anglers.

The presentation covered research conducted in recent years, including surveys of angler attitudes about the possibility of more restrictive harvest regulations on smallmouths and goggle-eye.  The goal of these changes would be to increase the average size of fish available to anglers.  The Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) began looking into this at the urging of the Smallmouth Bass Alliance.

MDC conducted basic field research on the food habits and ecology of smallmouths from the 1960s through the 1980s.  In the 1990s, they studied how far smallmouths move and the types of habitat they use.  Seven years ago, MDC began exploring how increased length and reduced creel limits would affect the size distribution of smallmouth populations.  After this work was done, the agency held open-house meetings and on-line surveys to gauge angler support for a tentative set of recommendations for regulation changes.

For many years now, the statewide length limit on black bass, including smallmouths, has been 12 inches.  The daily limit has been six black bass – largemouth, smallmouth and spotted, in aggregate.  In recent years, however, MDC has been conducting trials of 15- and 18-inch length limits for smallmouths within Smallmouth Management Areas (SMAs) consisting of parts of 11 streams.  At the same time, anglers in the SMAs have been limited to one smallmouth daily in their aggregate limit of six black bass.

During the study, MDC conducted periodic electrofishing samples on the affected areas of the streams.  It also sampled portions of the streams where the more restrictive regulations were not in effect so they could compare results and determine if the experimental regulations were having the desired effect.  Streams included in the experiment were Big Big Piney, Gasconade, Elk, Jacks Fork, James, Little Platt, Meramec, Mineral Fork, Osage Fork of the Gasconade River and Joachim Creek.  The resulting data suggest that the more restrictive length limits did increase the number of larger fish.

In addition, MDC imposed an 8-inch minimum length limit on goggle-eye – also commonly called rock bass – in some streams with the same goal – determining how this affected the size structure of goggle-eye populations.

Based on these data and angler attitudes, MDC Fisheries Division staff say they are developing recommendations that include:

MDC’s Fisheries Division Staff decided not to recommend more restrictive harvest regulations on smallmouth bass on the Current River, where tournament anglers expressed strong objections to the idea.  They also decided to recommend discontinuation of the restrictive smallmouth harvest regulations on the Osage Fork SMA, because data suggested it was not needed there.

These changes would affect only smallmouth bass in the SMA’s.  A minimum length limit of 12 inches would remain in effect for largemouths and spotted bass.

Also during the June 24 meeting, the Conservation Commissioners seemed to like the idea of the changes.  Consequently, MDC Fisheries Division Staff expressed their intention to develop a formal proposal for the Commissioners’ consideration at their upcoming meeting on August 26.

Many smallmouth devotees will hail the proposed regulations as long overdue.  Those who want to catch and keep up to six smallmouths of at least 12 inches daily will still have streams where they can do so.  Those who think the chance to catch a trophy smallmouth is more important than taking fish home will have places to follow their bliss, too.

The Conservation Commission encourages anglers who have preferences in this matter to visit mdc.mo.gov/contact-engage, and express those preferences.  If the commissioners vote to approve the proposed regulation changes, there will be a period for comments afterwards.

If they receive no comments or hear nothing that changes their minds, the regulation will go into effect March 1, 2017.

A Chicken named McChick

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
Hudson and Lilly are over for a visit.

By Larry Whiteley

The family next door got a chicken as a pet for their kids. They called it McChick after the McDonalds chicken sandwich. The kids carried it around everywhere. Sometimes, it would come over and roam around our yard without the kids.

At first, I would run it off. Gradually, McChick worked her way into my heart like many dogs in my life had done. McChick could not go on point for quail, flush pheasant, retrieve ducks, or tree a squirrel, but she would leave me an egg once in a while behind a bush. I got to where I would bend down to pet her or pick her up in my arms. When I was burning limbs in my fire pit, she would fly up on the wood pile and cluck away while keeping me company.

I did worry about her. I did not want her to get out on the road and get run over. There were also several neighborhood dogs around. I had also seen a red-tailed hawk flying around. I always knew when it was because the birds would disappear and the squirrels would start making a fuss. On the farm I grew up on, Grandpa called them chicken hawks. We always lost a few chickens to them.

One morning, I walked outside and looked around for McChick but did not see or hear her. Suddenly, I saw movement at the corner of the house and walked over to see what it was. The hawk had McChick pinned to the ground. I kicked the hawk hard to get it off. I was too late. McChick was gone. I picked up McChick and smoothed her feathers. I was sorry that I did not get there sooner. The hawk would not leave its meal and sat on one of our birdhouses, watching me. I put her in a sack and hid it from the hawk before leaving for church.

My buddy McChick visiting with me on the wood pile.

I told my wife what happened. She was worried about how the kids would take it. I texted their mom and told her what had happened. I asked her if she wanted me to bring McChick over so they could bury her. She thought that would be too hard on the kids and asked if I would bury her at our house so they could visit her grave when they wanted to. I agreed.

When I got home from church, I buried her in the shade of several big oak trees where the kids liked to come and sit with me to watch birds on our feeders. I dug a hole and placed her in it. I then took a flat rock, carved McChick into it, and put it at the head of the grave. It was the least I could do for this chicken that had captured our hearts.

Later that day, Mom and Dad brought them over to visit the grave. The kid’s tears flowed. Even the adults were choking back a few tears. They wanted me to tell them what happened with their beloved chicken and see the pictures I took of the hawk.  

That was several months ago. The kids still visit the grave. They will remember this special chicken. So will I. For a little while, in time, God blessed us with a chicken named McChick.

After a few weeks of grieving time, the parents decided to get a new pet for the kids. It was a cat. I know many of you are cat lovers, and that is fine. I have never been attached to cats like I am to dogs or like I was that chicken.

The hawk that killed McChick.
McChick’s Tombstone.

My wife and I have enjoyed feeding birds in our backyard for many years. We have several feeders for songbirds and woodpeckers. Also, houses for the birds so they can raise their babies. We have also planted numerous native plants whose seeds and berries birds love to eat.

Squirrels join the birds at times. We enjoy watching them chasing each other, wrestling, and playing. They are welcome, as long as they do not tear up our bird feeders trying to get to the seed. I put out feeding trays for them so they will not do that.

We have Cardinals, Chickadees, Doves, Sparrows, Wrens, Nuthatches, Bluejays, Juncos, and several woodpecker species during the winter. When spring arrives, they are joined by Yellow Finches, Indigo Buntings, Bluebirds, and more.

Just a few of our bird feeders.

Around mid-March, we start putting up sugar-water feeders for the arrival of my wife’s favorite bird, the Ruby-throated Hummingbird. We also have plenty of native flowering plants to keep them around until they migrate in the fall.

For a short time, in the spring, I put out feeders with grape jelly and oranges to feed the many colorful Baltimore Orioles and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks that stop by on their way to other places.

Watching birds and other wildlife out our windows is more entertaining than anything on our television, computer, or smartphone. The investment we make benefits them when food is scarce. We benefit as well from the joy of watching them. The neighbor kids love to come over to sit and watch them with us.

Now, back to the cat. You cat lovers need to read this whether you feed birds or not. A recent study by the Smithsonian Institution and the US Fish and Wildlife Service estimated that domestic cats kill about 2.4 billion birds a year and have contributed to the extinction of 63 species of birds, mammals, and reptiles.

I have found several dead birds and even a couple of squirrels. I have even watched the cat climb a tree after a squirrel. It is not the cat’s fault. The domestic cat is a predatory species. That means they, much like their wild ancestors, are specialized, solitary hunters.  

Cats and Birds are not a good combination. Bird Conservancy photo

The mere sight and sound of prey triggers a cat’s hunting instinct. Hunting to them is more about fun and entertainment. Quite simply, a cat cannot resist the flapping wings of a bird. Or the movement of a squirrel. If a cat manages to catch a bird or squirrel, they play with it and throw it around. Cats do not usually eat what they kill. As long as their human owners let them outside, they will continue to kill.

I ran the cat off when I saw it in our yard. A couple of times, I even fired a warning shot with my pellet gun. I have put out orange and lemon peels around the bird feeders. The smell of them is supposed to repel cats. But not this cat.

So, is it cruel to keep a cat indoors? Cats are crepuscular, which means they hunt and are active in the evening or early morning. If you want to let them outside, do that from mid-morning to mid-afternoon and then keep them inside the rest of the time. As long as a cat has the space and resources to express all of its natural behaviors and is not frustrated when it cannot go outside, there is no reason it cannot live a happy life inside as a house cat. And, we bird lovers can continue to live a happy life feeding and watching the birds and squirrels.

There are also a few other reasons our neighbors should keep their cat inside. Sometimes, at night, I see their cat out roaming around. I also hear the howl of coyotes. They would love to catch and eat a cat. During the day, when the cat is out, the red-tailed hawk that killed McChick is out there also. It will also kill and eat cats.

My wife and I love the neighbor kids. They call me Grandpa Larry, and my wife Grandma. Hudson and Lilly come over often and are a special part of our lives. I do not want to wipe away their tears again over the loss of another pet. I would not miss the cat, but I still miss a chicken named McChick.

Chasing Chain Pickerel off the Chesapeake

Posted on by Dr. Peter Brookes

By Dr. Peter Brookes

While chasing Spanish mackerel on the Chesapeake Bay off Kent Island, Maryland, last fall, my guide, Captain Zack Hoisington, in a quiet moment from his perch in the half tower, asked me if I had ever fished for chain pickerel on the fly.

While scanning the horizon for nervous water from the foredeck below, I said, “Huh?!”

Zack knew I’d fished for muskellunge (musky) and northern pike on the fly in Wisconsin, and said, “Yeah, we have them around here, and the bite is good in the winter…you could score an Esox-family ‘hat trick’ (i.e., pike, musky and pickerel) if you caught one.”

Hmmmm…always looking for a new species to target with the fly rod, a novel challenge and something to scribble about, I was intrigued.

We made a date to get together again in the winter when the temperatures of the brackish waters off Annapolis, Maryland, cool into the 50s and the 40s. (Chain pickerel are freshwater fish but manage well in brackish water, depending on the salinity.)

On a cool, clear, early December morning, we launched from a ramp near Annapolis and motored in Zack’s 19-foot center console under the Eastport Bridge and past the U.S. Naval Academy (my alma mater—Go Navy! Beat Army!) into the Severn River, a tidal tributary of the Chesapeake Bay.

(Zack also uses his 15-foot skiff to fish for “picks” to allow him to get into shallower waters, including tidal salt ponds.)

Picks, like other Esox, are ambush predators and prefer structure such as downfalls, weed lines, bulkheads, rip rap, docks, and the shoreline. Zack likes to target them in low-light hours at the beginning or the end of the day or on cloudy days.

Watch out for the teeth!

Pickerel are active cold-water fish–however, sunny conditions with lower-than-average tides, which typically follow a cold front, can slow the bite.

Zack has a couple of 9-foot, 8-weights rigged up with intermediate lines and a 30-lb. test leader to handle these toothy critters. He uses a variety of smaller, musky-like streamers, including flies that imitate yellow and white perch, minnows and shrimp in a range of colors.

We slide into a cove off the Severn River with plenty of structure, and Zack deploys the trolling motor. I start pounding the bank, retrieving the fly line from the chilly water with a strip-strip-strip-long pause rhythm.

Picks tend to hit the fly on the pause, especially if a fly kicks a bit sideways to the direction of the tippet/line, providing a larger profile to this piscatorial predator. Like their bigger cousin, the musky, pickerel will follow a fly right up to the boat, so pay attention, especially when getting ready to recast!

In seemingly no time, I hook into a fish. It’s an aggressive take and puts a rainbow-like arc in the 8-wt. Zack thinks it’s a pick. While playing the fish, I feel some violent head shakes reverberate up the line. Zack warns me to be ready for some aerial acrobatics.

There are no jumps, but I’m soon rewarded boatside with a nearly 20-inch chain pickerel.

I land another fish and lose a couple more. I found them pretty challenging to play once hooked, confirming my notion that they’re a great sport fish for the fly fisher.

Zack told me that on our half-day trip, the bite was slower than usual. On an average day, according to Zack, a skilled fly angler can expect to boat a half-dozen pickerel. On a good day, a good angler can easily boat over a dozen.

The picks in this area are abundant and range in length from 8 inches to 20 inches, with 24-inch citation-sized chain pickerel in the FishMaryland certificate program, according to Maryland’s Department of Natural Resources (DNR).

(For more info on the FishMaryland program, including how to submit your catch: https://dnr.maryland.gov/fisheries/pages/fishmaryland.aspx And if you’re bringing your big boy/big girl waders to fish, Maryland state records are listed at: https://dnr.maryland.gov/fisheries/pages/state-records.aspx)

Annapolis at rush hour.

In my opinion, the pick is an underappreciated fish for the fly fisher and a great way to do some inshore fishing in the late fall and winter months, assuming average water temperatures in the central Atlantic.

Chain pickerel can become lethargic in very cold weather, and the bite will be slow. Zack says he will fish for picks until the creeks are completely frozen over, which seldom happens in a given year. He has caught them with a fly rod on the edges of skim ice.

Annapolis is also a great staging area for some fly fishing. The town, known for its sailing and boating, has great eateries and bars—and (thankfully) is less crowded in the cooler weather months. It’s also very festive during the holiday season.

In the area, stripers (striped bass) are without doubt the favorite local fish on the fly—and understandably so—but in the winter months, with less wind and calmer waters off, rather than on, the Chesapeake Bay, my pick for fly fishing is chain pickerel.

Dr. Peter Brookes is an award-winning outdoor writer from Virginia and a recovering DC foreign policy wonk. Please visit his website blog at https://riversandfeathers.com/.

 

Leave an Outdoor Legacy

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
Big brother, Hunter (R), so proud of his little sister, Anna, who downed her first Missouri deer, a nice doe.

By Larry Whiteley

My 12-year-old grandson, Hunter, and my 10-year-old granddaughter, Anna, were going deer hunting for the first time. Hunter came with me. Anna went with my son, Daron. Hunter is a good name for a young man who enjoys squirrel, rabbit, and dove hunting with his family. Now, he and his sister will learn to hunt deer like their dad had with Grandpa.

The four of them sighted in their guns the week before. Grandpa and Dad taught them what they needed to know to be safe when handling the rifles Grandpa had bought them. They listened intently with wide eyes as Grandpa told him what to expect when out there. They asked a million questions. Grandpa and Dad patiently answered them all.

As they drove to where they were going to hunt on opening morning, it was quiet in the truck. Grandpa glanced at his grandson and said, “What are you thinking about?” “Oh, I am just thinking about everything you taught me,” he said. “I want to get my first deer.” His sister was sleeping curled up next to Dad.

“I know you do,” said grandpa. “But, you and your sister will both discover there is more to enjoy outdoors than just shooting a deer. God created it all for us and the wildlife.” Hunter looked at him quizzically and could not imagine anything better than getting a deer.

They got in their blind. Anna and Dad went off to theirs. Grandpa had Hunter sit between his legs right in front of him. The rifle was on a tripod to steady his aim. They waited silently in the darkness. An owl hooted. Hunter whispered, “What was that?” Grandpa told him and held him close.

Hunter and his wife Molly as they head out out on a family deer hunt.

The sun rose over the hill and shined on the frosted field. The fog lifted from the nearby creek. Birds started fluttering through the trees. Crows began talking to each other. Squirrels scurried through dried leaves. Hunter whispered, “They don’t know we are here. It’s like watching a nature show on TV.” Grandpa smiled. He knew his grandson was discovering there was more to deer hunting than shooting a deer. Anna would learn the same from Dad.

Hunter and Grandpa hear a noise. A young buck peeks out from behind a nearby tree. The deer senses there is someone in the woods with him. He looked toward them and then ducked behind a tree. He peeks around one side of the tree and then the other several times. The two humans never move. The young buck was finally satisfied there was nothing there. He walked away, and a memory was made.

Thirty minutes later, a doe walks into the field. She stops and looks behind her.

Suddenly, an 8-point buck slowly walks toward the doe. When he stops, Grandpa tells Hunter to take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger gently. The sound of gunfire echoed through the valley. Grandpa hugged his grandson and said, “You got it!” Hunter hugged his grandpa.

My grandson Hunter, my son Darren, and yours truly, Grandpa Larry.

Later, they heard another shot in the valley. Anna also got her first deer that day, a big doe. Another memory she will always have of her and Dad together in the outdoors. Both would take many other deer in their years of hunting with Grandpa and Dad. Grandpa told them on the way home, “That is not always what happens on a hunt. Like in your life, there will be more good times than bad. More failures than success.”

That story happened 11 years ago. Hunter grew into a man. Anna became a beautiful young woman. Grandpa goes hunting less than he used to, and it is different now. Sometimes, he goes alone and sits in the woods with his memories. That day in his hunting history remains one of his favorite memories with his son, grandson and granddaughter. There are many more.

Hunter graduated from college, got married, and now lives in Kansas. Dad travels there often to go deer hunting and fishing with his son. Anna also graduated from college, married Drew, and lives in Texas with their dog Max. She no longer goes hunting, but the lessons she learned from hunting, fishing, and the outdoors will guide her in other parts of her life.

Soon, Hunter and his wife Molly will have kids of their own. Hunter, Molly, and their grandpa will take the kids deer hunting and teach them to enjoy the outdoors like Grandpa and Dad did with him. He will show them the deer head hanging on the wall and tell them the story of his first deer.

Hunter and Molly will also take their kids squirrel, rabbit, dove, and turkey hunting. He will share stories of him, their grandpa, and great-grandpa when they did the same thing. Hunter will teach them to be safe and the skills they need. He will tell them there is more to hunting than just killing animals, just like Grandpa did him.

Daron, Ty, Kelly, and Sam are on a recent Florida fishing trip.

The first time he takes his kids fishing, he will tell them about his first fish. Grandpa and Dad were there for that. His high school graduation present from Grandma and Grandpa was a Canadian fishing trip for the three men. Hunter later became an avid bass fisherman. He was a member of his college bass fishing team. He and Molly also fish together. They will with their kids too.

Grandpa and Grandma’s other son Kelly, his wife Lexi, and sons Ty and Sam live in Wisconsin. He loved to go fishing when he was growing up. His family all love to fish and travel to national parks together. When the boys were little, Grandpa and Grandma made many trips north to go fishing with them and spend time at lakes around where they lived. They even went fishing together a few times in Florida.

When Kelly was young, he never went hunting. It was just not something he wanted to do. Dad understood and didn’t push him to try it. A few years ago, Kelly called and said he and Ty wanted to go deer hunting. A few weeks later, Grandpa and Grandma were on their way to Wisconsin with their truck loaded with hunting clothes for both of them, rifles, deer stands, and more.

The morning of the deer hunt, Kelly could not get Ty out of bed to go. He and Dad went anyway. Like Hunter and Anna did several years before, Kelly got his first deer that morning. He beamed with pride. Dad hugged his 6-foot, 4-inch, 230-pound son and wiped away a tear.

Kelly’s quote touches lives around the world.

Today, Kelly is battling cancer. It has not stopped him from fishing and traveling with his family. It has not stopped him from always being positive. He tells everyone, “Take it one day at a time, and put it in God’s hands.” Those words have been a tremendous witness and comfort to others. He knows where he is going when God says it is time, whether sooner or later. He will leave a legacy behind for his sons, whenever that is.

One of the definitions of the word legacy says that it is the long-lasting impact of particular events, actions, and other things that took place in the past or a person’s life.

Let me ask you this question. Will you be leaving behind a legacy for your kids and grandkids?

Stephen Moss once said, “Nature is a tool to get children to experience not just the wider world but themselves.” I believe that to be true. It is a great place to make memories and leave a legacy.

Grandpa thinks often about the legacy of the outdoors he will leave with his family and others when the good Lord calls him home. He does not doubt that his family will all continue their legacy with the outdoors. He smiles, looks to heaven, and says, “Thank you!” A tear runs down his cheek.

 

The People Whose Land This Was

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
The Great Plains Buffalo was revered by Native Americans.

By Larry Whiteley

November is a busy month. Deer season is underway in most parts of America. Fishermen are trying to get another limit of crappie for the freezer to enjoy on a cold winter day. Sports lovers have their choice of football and basketball games to watch. And, of course, there is Thanksgiving Day.

In today’s world, there is very little, if any, media coverage of what Thanksgiving is all about. It was once a time of gathering family and friends, enjoying a big tasty meal, and sharing in thankful moments of peace and love, giving thanks to the Lord for what we have. Today, for many folks, it’s a quick Thanksgiving meal with the family, probably at a restaurant, and hurrying back to football games on TV or going Christmas shopping.

Lost in all the busyness of November is the fact that it is also Native American Heritage Month. In addition, Black Friday is not just for taking advantage of Christmas sales online or in stores; it is also Native American Heritage Day. Odds are, you won’t hear or see anything about this important commemorative day.

Do you remember the story of the first Thanksgiving that we adults all learned in history class when we were young? Is it even taught today? It was about the English Pilgrims braving the perils of the New World to escape religious persecution. They would have never made it without the help of friendly Native Americans from the Wampanoag tribe.

The Wampanoag not only provided the food for the feast but also taught the Pilgrims how to hunt, fish, and grow food to survive. Thanksgiving, as a holiday, originates from the Native American philosophy of giving without expecting anything in return. If the Wampanoag had known what would happen to their way of life, they would not have helped so completely.

The people whose land this was, were respectful to nature.

Long before settlers arrived, the lives of Native Americans revolved around the great outdoors and the hunting and fishing that the unspoiled outdoors provided. They celebrated the autumn harvest of the food they planted and nurtured, and the gift of abundant wildlife. Their spirituality, traditions and conservation ethics, emphasized gratitude for creation, care for the environment, and recognition of the human need for communion with nature and others. That is something we should all learn more about, learn to do, and be especially thankful for.

Many Native Americans, in today’s world, will gather with friends and family on Thanksgiving to eat and give thanks. However, for more than a few Indians, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning and protest. To them, it commemorates the arrival of settlers to their land, followed by centuries of oppression.

It is a reminder to them of the genocide of millions of their people, the loss of their land – stolen from them, and the relentless assault on their culture. They honor their ancestors and the struggles of their people to survive today. Thanksgiving is a day of remembrance and spiritual connection for them, as well as a day of protest for the racism many Native Americans continue to experience.

I recently watched the new Ken Burns 4-hour documentary, “The American Buffalo.” After that factual rendering, I now understand why Thanksgiving is a day to mourn for Native Americans.

For thousands of generations, Native Americans relied on the buffalo for food, clothing, and shelter. They only killed as many buffalo as they needed. They used every part of the animal in the lives they lived, wasting one of the animals. The Buffalo were revered by the Native Americans.

In the early 1800s, as more and more white men came to this land, it was estimated there were 30 million buffalo in the Great Plains of America. Buffalo herds began declining for several reasons, including drought and diseases introduced by the white man’s domestic cattle, and the lucrative buffalo clothing trade.

The skins of American Buffalo are prepared for shipment back East.

The arrival of the railroads in the early 1870s and a new demand for buffalo hides to be used for belts to drive industrial machines back East brought thousands of hide hunters to the Great Plains. With the steady westward movement of white people, they wanted the land of the Native Americans for farms, ranches, and towns. The Native Americans fought to keep their land.

Then someone figured out that as important as the buffalo herds were to these people, if they got rid of the buffalo, they would get rid of the Indians. Great slaughters of buffalo started taking place. The hunters took the buffalo hides and left the rest of this great animal to rot.

Their meat and bones littered and desecrated the land. In just a little over 10 years of time, the number of buffalo went from an estimated 12-15 million to fewer than one thousand. By 1900, the American buffalo was on the brink of disappearing forever. The Native American people’s lives were also changing forever.

A mountain of slaughtered Buffalo bones.

The government decided to force the Native Americans to leave their land so they could make it available to white settlers. The Indians fought to keep their ancestral lands and traditions. What would any of us do if someone came to take our land and way of life? Most of us would fight to keep it.

60,000 Native American children were sent to boarding schools.

Treaties were signed. Both sides would break them. Eventually, all the Indians were placed in reservations.

If the white man later found that the land where Indians were placed was of value, they would move the Indians to worthless land.

Over 100,000 Native Americans died during forced marches, like the infamous Trail of Tears. When all the Indians were finally on reservations, the white man came and took their children. They put them in boarding schools, cut their hair, dressed them in white man’s clothes, and forbade them to speak their native language. They were trying to take the Indian culture out of them. Many children died at those places.

What we Americans did to the Native Americans and the American buffalo is a dark time in our nation’s history. By the end of the 1880s, nobody could find a buffalo. Today, thanks to the efforts of a few, there are now 350,000 buffalo in America. That is good.

Most Native Americans still live in poverty today, and mostly on worthless land. We Americans put them there. Yes, some Indian lands have casinos on them, but few Native Americans benefit from them. The white man has figured out a way to take that too.

Another important day in November is Veterans Day. You may not know this, but Veterans Day is also important to Native Americans. For over 200 years, American Indians have fought bravely in the United States military, even before they gained U.S. citizenship in 1924.

The contributions of the Native American CODE TALKERS during World War II are a big part of our successful American war history. Their stealthy codes using their native language were never broken. It is witness to the power of their language that helped to save the Democratic Government of the United States of America during World War II.

Native American Code Talkers being honored.

Known as warriors throughout history, that deep tradition continued for Native Americans into modern times. Many still contend that the land is still theirs. After all they have been through, they still feel they are defending their land and people.

The Pentagon reports more Native Americans participate in the military at a higher rate than any other racial or ethnic groups in the United States. They have served our country well.

As a veteran myself, I am proud to have served with Native Americans. I have great respect for them and their ancestors. They have been through a lot.

I am not proud of some of the things our people and our government have done to Native Americans and others. We, as a nation, are beginning to right the wrongs we did in the lives of the American Indians. That is a good thing. We came together to save the buffalo. Let us come together to help these Indigenous People.

It is time to right the wrongs of the people whose land this was.

 

Author Note: All photographs utilized to share this story are from the public domain.

Autumn of Life

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

Photo courtesy of the Late Joe Forma photo collection.

A blue sky through Autumn colors. Photo courtesy Missouri Department of Conservation

By Larry Whiteley

Autumn has always been my favorite season. There is something about its waning days of light and warmth. Colorful trees paint the landscape. A plethora of hunting seasons are underway. Fish feed aggressively. They are preparing for the cold days ahead. Sitting around a campfire looking at a dark night sky filled with millions of stars is magical. The smell of wood smoke from campfires and chimneys drifts through the air.

Geese fly overhead as they head south in their V-formation. They honk reassurance to one another. Squirrels rattle through dried leaves as they dig to bury acorns. The hike up a long, winding hill is worth it when you reach the top and look out over the patchwork quilt of colors that spread out before you. All too soon, the light will be gone. Days will become short. Nights will be long.

Autumn has a deeper meaning for me this year. I recognize my own life is in its autumn years. I am happy to have made it this far. To be right where I am. During my working years, I was paid to communicate the outdoors through written and spoken word. I am blessed to continue that into my years of retirement. My English teacher in high school would not believe one of her worst and shyest students had spent most of their life doing what I had done. I give all the glory to God for giving me the gifts to do that.

I have many good memories of the autumn seasons outdoors with kids, grandkids, and friends. I think about them often when I am outdoors, alone with my thoughts. I also think about our 49-year-old son battling cancer in the summer of his life. He has remained positive through his battle. He says to others, whatever they face in life, “Take it one day at a time and put it in God’s hands.”

Flowering dogwood tree in Autumn. Photo courtesy Missouri Department of Conservation

No matter how old one is, we are always at the edge of the unknown. There is no certainty in life. Growing older gives one a perspective on life we did not have during the earlier parts of our journey. Life becomes more precious when there is much less left of it. The road ahead is far shorter than the road already traveled. Sometimes, I think about my finish line, the end of my story. I do not know how it all turns out. I know I have a lot of living left to do, even if it is only one more day.

I plan to savor however much time I have left, being in God’s great outdoors as much as possible. Getting a big buck is no longer important. Being out there and watching the sun rise over a frosted field is. So is watching a bobcat sneaking through the woods, hearing crows talking to each other up and down the valley, and all the other animals going about their daily lives.

Fishing trips mean more to me now. It is about something other than how many fish I can catch. It is about an eagle perched on a limb high in a tree. Otters playing on the bank. A beautiful sunset shining in the water. A rainbow after a rain. A dad teaching his kids to fish.

I cannot hike nearly as far or as long as I used to. Things I see along the way seem more special now. They are, to me, an addition to my memory bank of life. Each step takes me closer to the end of the trail. The journey will have been worth it, just like in life.

The Beauty of Autumn Sassafras. Photo courtesy Missouri Department of Conservation

When I go camping, the sound of crickets, frogs, and owls is music to my ears. The dancing flames of my campfire are more soothing than ever. When I look up through a star-filled sky toward heaven, I wonder what it will be like when the good Lord calls me home.

Every day matters during this season of life. None of us knows how or when our time on earth will end. When my time comes, I hope it happens while I am in the outdoors that I love instead of a hospital bed.

I have told my wife and kids that I want some of my ashes scattered near the cabin we once owned in a beautiful valley. I also want some scattered near my favorite treestand and some near the creek where memories were made with grandkids. Some of my ashes are to be at Sac River Cowboy Church. A dogwood tree is to be planted over them. God used the gifts He gave me there, too, and my life was changed for the better.

We all know someone who left home one day and never came back. They were not planning for it to be their last day. Winter arrived without warning. The finish line was there. The seasons of our lives do not always pay attention to or go by the calendar. One could be in autumn or winter and not even know it. Why not live each day as if it is your last?

The earlier seasons of life are all about making it in the world. For most of the years preceding autumn, we are gaining knowledge and experience, building a career, establishing a reputation, working hard to earn money, and providing a living for ourselves and family. It seems life is all about achieving, accomplishing, accumulating or surviving.

The autumn colors of the oak tree. Larry Whiteley photo

Our focus changes as the autumn of our life approaches. Our tasks become more inward-oriented. Much of our traditional part of life begins to fade as we enter retirement. We begin to slow down. Our goal now is self-renewal. I could spend my time regretting things I have done and mistakes I have made. I choose instead to be grateful for the forgiveness God has given me. Autumn is a time to change our life.

It is time to look ahead and recognize that your finish line is approaching. Then, choose who you want to be and how you want to live out the remaining years of your life. You will not have control over everything that happens. So what? Face it, and then choose to be someone better.

Miracles happen when we step up to the life we have right here in the muck and the mire of this world and discover we are far more creative and capable than we ever dreamed. Miracles happen when we find that we are far more than who we ever thought we were or were taught to be. Miracles occur when we have the courage to choose to be someone we never thought we could be.

The autumn of life brings us into the evening, where life becomes quieter. It is a season for the soul. We discover a kind of beauty that is only available at this stage of life. We gain new wisdom. We learn to appreciate everything more. We become creative in ways we never thought were possible in our younger years. We become artists, writers and poets. We give back to others. Sometimes, we find God was there all along. We become lovers of life with less time left.

The best part of your life can be found in the autumn of life.

Real Men Do Cry…Sometimes

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

Real Men Do Cry...Sometimes. A Larry Whiteley Story from the Heart.

By Larry Whiteley 

I still remember the day vividly in my mind. It was 1954. I was eight years old and walking around Grandpa and Grandma’s farm. It was where I was born and grew up. My Daisy Red Ryder BB gun is in my hand. I had been shooting at a piece of old, rusted tin hanging on a fence post. A plinking sound told me when I hit my target.

Birds were singing and flying around. Even back then, I loved to watch and listen to them. One bird landed on the fence a little ways from me. I swung my BB gun toward it, looked down through the iron sights, and fired. The little bird fell to the ground. I walked over to where it lay, dropped to my knees, and picked it up. Tears came to my eyes as I held the lifeless little bird. It was the first live animal I ever shot. I told it I was sorry. Tears flowed.

My dad did not allow me to cry; he said, “Big boys do not cry.” 

My dad heard me and came to see what happened. He told me it was just a bird and did not try to comfort me. Before walking away, he said, “Big boys do not cry, so quit it.” Even if I did something wrong and he took a switch to me, there was to be no crying. He was like most men back then, and many still today. They believe that real men don’t cry. They believe crying is unmanly.

I grew into a teenager and got into hunting squirrels, rabbits, and quail around the farm. A few times when I first took their life, I almost cried. I had to choke back the tears when we buried our old farm dog Trixie and later Blackie, but the words of my dad in my head stopped me.

I do not remember crying at the funeral of my Grandpa. I did not dare with all those people there. Dad would not have liked that. The closest I came to crying was when my parents divorced, and I had to move to town with my mom. I loved that old farm and did not want to leave it. It was hard to choke the tears back as we drove away.

After high school, I joined the Navy and had to fly off to boot camp. I did not cry then. I wanted to several times but remembered Dad’s words again -real men don’t cry. I was a real man then.

Later in life, I married, and we started our own family. I remember lying on the bed with our newborn son after we brought him home from the hospital. I told him I would always love him. I did cry a little then.

I am not ashamed to say tears were in my eyes when my sons, grandsons, or a granddaughter caught their first fish.

Dad wasn’t around much anymore. The big boys don’t cry, and real men don’t cry, gradually faded away. I am not ashamed to say tears were in my eyes when my sons, grandsons, or a granddaughter caught their first fish. Or when a grandson and a granddaughter got their first deer. When a son, at forty years old, got his first deer, I cried. A few years later, away from others, my tears flowed hard when I heard that same son had cancer.

Animals once again brought tears to my eyes. Some tears fell to the ground while burying our family dog, Buffy. I also cried a little when our son found out one of his beagle dogs had died and was crying. I cried when I lay on the floor with my arm around Memphis. He was the beloved family dog of that same son and his family. I told him how much we all loved him. He couldn’t raise his head, so he licked water out of my hand. I told him his family would be alright. He could close his eyes and go home. If there is a dog heaven, Memphis is there, along with all our family dogs that have touched our hearts.

Young boys and men need to know that there is nothing wrong with showing their emotions. That does not make them any less of a person.

There is nothing wrong with showing your feelings. There is nothing wrong with being emotional. There is nothing wrong with crying. They also need to know they are not any less of a man for doing so.

If you are a believer, and I hope you are, you know Jesus himself cried. If you are not a believer and want to know more, I am not bashful about sharing with anyone what Jesus has done for me and you.

This is my grandson, Hunter and his dog Memphis. I cried when I lay on the floor with my arm around Memphis.

The Bible says in John 11:35 that Jesus wept. He did so when He found out about the death of his friend Lazarus from his sisters Mary and Martha. He knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead, but when He saw their sorrow, the tears came to His eyes.

In Luke 19:41 it says Jesus wept before a crowd of men and women over the destruction He knew was coming to Jerusalem.

Ecclesiastes 3:4 says there is a time to cry, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

There is no shame in a man shedding tears. We men are allowed to have feelings. We don’t have to hide them. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.

I read a story recently on my friend Brandon’s blog that he wrote about himself and a change he had made in his life. I had been praying for him for a long time. I am not ashamed to say I cried as I read it.

Brandon is a real man. He loves everything about the outdoors and has traveled all over America and even went to Africa on his quest for outdoor adventures. You can hear about those adventures on his podcast and read them on his blog. He also writes for magazines and newspapers. He is also a conservationist involved in protecting the outdoors that God created for all of us.

In his story, he tells how his Grandpa was his hero. Grandpa was an avid outdoorsman, the life of the party, and drank a lot of beer. He wanted to be like him, and he was for many years.

When a son, at forty years old, got his first deer, I cried. A few years later, away from others, my tears flowed hard when I heard that same son had cancer.

Besides drinking alcohol way too much, Brandon went through a messy divorce, and his cabin was burnt to the ground by an arsonist. It was enough to make any real man cry.

Then, his teenage girls moved in with him. That is what finally got him on the right path. He realized what his drinking was doing or going to affect them just like his Grandpa’s drinking had affected him. I think he probably shed a few tears through his journey.

He said for the first time in his life, he felt the miraculous hand of God in his life.

In the darkness was a light, and God guided him out of that darkness.

He encourages everyone to join him on the beautiful path he is now on. He also encourages others to ask for help if they cannot do it alone.

You can read his inspiring story at www.driftwoodoutdoors.com. You may cry as you read it, but do not be ashamed. Knowing that real men do cry sometimes and reading Brandon’s story might change your life.

Incredible Backyard Nature Shows

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
Sunrise and sunset are favorite backyard times to sit, watch and listen.

By Larry Whiteley

For some of you, your only experience with nature is watching shows on PBS, National Geographic, Discovery, and others in the comfort of your home.  I also love watching nature shows.  However, they are much better when I watch them out the windows of my home rather than on television, my tablet, or my smartphone.

I am entertained more through those windows than my recliner watching TV nature shows.  At home, I see colorful birds coming to our feeders.  Bright red male Cardinals.  Iridescent blue Indigo Buntings, yellow and black Finches, gray Mourning Doves, and blue Bluejays.  Woodpeckers and other birds of all colors and sizes join them, along with the tiny Hummingbirds.  Colorful Baltimore Orioles and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks add even more color to the bird show during springtime.

Our squirrel population is also part of the nature show out our windows.  I watch young squirrels play tag and wrestle.  I have even seen squirrels do the same thing with rabbits.  In the fall, adults gather acorns for the winter and build nests high in the trees.  In spring, birds dive-bomb squirrels that get too close to their nest.  During summer’s hot days, I watch squirrels spread their bodies and lay flat in the shade.  They are trying to cool off and are doing what is called splooting.  Squirrel tracks are everywhere in winter snow.

I am also blessed, at times, to see Deer, Turkey, Red-Tailed Hawks, lots of Crows, Great Horned Owls, and sometimes even an Eagle.  All the butterflies are another special treat.  There is always a nature show going on every season of the year.  But it is like watching nature TV shows on my devices with muted sounds if I stay inside.  To enjoy nature shows even better, I open the door and go outside with my binoculars.  That way, I can take in all the sights and sounds of the nature shows.  I take pictures and record all the sounds with my smartphone.  They will bring me many hours of enjoyment later.

I try not to make noise while I am there.  If I am successful, the wildlife tolerate me being in their world.  They continue to do what they do.  Geese honk, Crows caw.  Birds will sing and feed.  Squirrels will chatter and run around everywhere.  Both will scatter and hide if they hear the sound of a red-tailed Hawk flying around looking for a meal.

I go outdoors any time during the day to watch and listen to nature shows.  I love to be there as the sun rises, a cup of coffee in hand.  The wildlife wake up and start their day.  They don’t even know I am there with them as I watch and listen.  Bird songs start, turkeys gobble, a breeze blows through the trees, and crows begin talking to each other.  I might also see a chipmunk scurrying around or a turtle slowly walking while exploring my yard.  A lizard or two is usually somewhere.  Movement under a bush is probably a snake looking for his next meal.  Sunrises are always beautiful.  I can never take enough pictures of them or the rainbows after a rain.  It is much better than watching the morning news on TV and getting all depressed before the day even starts.

Sunsets are also a favorite time for me.  They are beautiful.  Deer move around looking for a place to bed down for the night.  As it gets darker, owls hoot and coyotes howl.  Bats begin to dive for bugs.  Summer nights also mean a light show performance by thousands of tiny fireflies.  I can also record or enjoy the sounds of frogs, crickets, cicadas, and katydids.  A little thunder and lightning only add to the night.  Pull up a chair and enjoy the show.

You probably think I live in the country to enjoy nature like that.  When we built our house fifty years ago, it was in the country.  There were few neighbors.  Today, I not only see nature shows out every window, but I also see other homes out every window.  Most people probably don’t even realize a live nature show is happening outside near their homes.  I hear their barking dogs, their mowers, and weed eaters.  Their cars and trucks drive down the road.  Most of you can probably hear and see all that, too.  But even with all that, I bet there are nature shows right outside your window if you take the time to look and listen.

Now, why would you bother to do that?  First of all, we should all be mindful of the different types of media we consume on a regular basis and how it impacts our mind.  That includes TV, movies, books, magazines, news, and social media.  Everything we choose to consume daily has an effect on our thoughts, feelings, and perspectives in some way.  There are lots of studies that show how spending more time in nature is good for you.

One study showed nature can reduce symptoms of depression.  Another study showed that bird-watching around your home can reduce stress and anxiety.  Another study found that just listening to the sounds of nature can put us into a more relaxed and comfortable state.  Other studies have shown experiencing nature can lower blood pressure, reduce nervous system arousal, enhance immune system function, increase self-esteem, reduce anxiety, and improve our mood.  Do you need any other reasons to start getting involved in watching and listening to nature shows out your windows and outdoors?

After learning to enjoy the nature shows around your home, I encourage you to take the next step.  Go camping, even if starting off, it is in your own backyard.  Hopefully, you will take the next step and go camping outdoors at places away from man-made noises and artificial lights.

Get on your computer or smartphone and find places to go hike.  Enjoy nature along the way, and when you reach the top, look out over the valley below and be amazed.  Find a river or lake and catch a fish or relax in or on the water.  Learn to enjoy wildflowers in the spring, snow in the woods during winter, colorful leaves in the fall, and a star-filled sky on a summer night.  Discover how incredible nature is.

Get away from the TV, computer, and smartphone.  Escape all that is going on in your life and our broken world.  Find the peace you seek.  Restore your body and soul.  I personally know Who created the outdoors, and He did a great job.  Let Him and all the nature shows change your life for the better.

As Anne Frank said, “The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature, and God.  Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy amidst the simple beauty of nature.”

Fishing, Family, Fun and Country Music! All in Branson, Missouri

Posted on by Dave Barus

Lake Tanneycomo in Branson, Missouri, is full of trout surprises!

The History of Fishing Museum in Branson offfers more than 40,000 historical fishing items on display. These early Rapala lures are a collector item of great interest. David Gray photo

By David Gray

My old friend Larry Whiteley asked me if I could describe Branson, Missouri, in just three words. I said, “Sure! Fishing, Family, Fun.”  Grinning his usual warm-hearted smile, Larry said, “So true. I especially like that Branson is neatly nestled in these Ozark Hills. The four seasons add color twice a year, too. Even better, I like the many Grade-A fishing lakes and streams we have nearby – bass, crappie, trout. But you know, honestly, there is so much more to Branson that many folks never see.”

At a recent outdoor media conference event, Larry handed me a Branson Visitors Guide, and I took a day to explore more.  I found Country Music, Nature Trails, Live Entertainment, Attractions, All-Day Adventures at Silver Dollar City, Camping, Golfing, Friendly people, Great food, and Museums. Don’t overlook that last one.   

Family fun deserves a visit to the Branson Centennial Museum. The Museum guidebooks share that kids who learn history in school have many questions when touring historical displays.   

Some things I learned at the Museum: The Branson Hills were blessed with music long before the music theaters sprang up.  Before modern settlement, the Branson area was home to the Osage Indians, the original local music stars.

The Osage were well-known and admired for their extraordinary music and style of dancing.

Today, area tackle shops offer trout flies, guide services, advice, and tackle rental if needed. Understanding the history of this area, you might wonder how the Osage Indians fished here. Forrest Fisher photo

In 1839, the first couple to settle in Branson was Calvin and Cassandra Galyer. Calvin was 15, and Cassandra was 14. Cassandra raised 11 children. Calvin was a gunsmith, and during the Civil War, he was sought by both sides as a gunsmith. When their home burned, the family hid and lived in a cave so Calvin would not be taken away by the North or South for his gunsmithing skills.   

Cassandra stared at the Branson cemetery as a final resting place for fallen soldiers of both sides. None of the graves were marked Union or CSA, as Cassandra did not want the graves desecrated by the other side.  

When European settlers arrived, they brought their fiddles, and the hills and hollers enjoyed the evening front porch music sessions.   Each evening, the picking and playing echoed among the hills.

After the war, more settlers arrived in the Branson area. It took long days of hard labor to make a living by raising cotton, tomatoes and tobacco. Doing the wash was physical, and the phrase “Wash Day” was literal, as it took all day to do the family wash. The Museum displays include the earliest washing machines. 

More recently, Branson was labeled a Country Music Phenomenon when a Klondike-like gold rush music boom started in the 1980s. Country Music stars visiting the Branson area fell in love with the Hills and Hollows, the residents, and the natural beauty here. They decided to build theaters and move to Branson to perform. 

The first music performer in the area was Box Car Willie. Box Car loved being in the Ozarks and invited Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn to perform with him.   

The Ozark Hills of Branson quickly became a must-do destination for country music lovers. 

Today, the Branson country music passion has grown to 24 live music theaters, and also offering music of every genre.  

Fishing in the Ozarks has always been an attraction.  First, the Osage Indians, then the early settlers, and later, anglers from many places have been drawn to the exceptional fishing for many species, including Bass, Crappie, Walleye, Trout and White Bass. 

Hi-tech bass fishing has a welcome home in Branson, Missouri. Professional angler, Jimmy Zaleski, prepares for a day on the water at Chateau on the Lake Resort and Hotel.  Forrest Fisher photo.

Today, the area’s lakes, rivers and streams offer unlimited fishing opportunities. Some of the best fishing guides provide a variety of trips on Table Rock Lake and Bull Shoals Lake, and the trout waters of Lake Taneycomo flow right through downtown Branson. Easy fishing is fun fishing.  

The most famous Branson area angler is Jim Owens, who is credited with creating the first commercial float fishing service, the Jim Owen Boat Line. Jim offered tailored floats up to 10 days long. Celebrities from all over the world came to float with the Owens Boat Line. Today, you can easily find many artifacts and photos of the Owen Boat Line around Branson, including some of the old fishing tackle in the downtown Branson Bass Pro Shops.   

Then there is the History of Fishing Museum. If you love fishing, take advantage of a side trip to the History of Fishing Museum. It is a beautiful attraction with 40,000 historical fishing equipment and items on display.   

Fishing tackle from the Stone Age to the modern era is displayed in an easy-to-follow walk-through tour. Even more astonishing to learn is the value of some of the rare collectible items. 

Want to see the first-ever modern bass boat? Here is a hint: it is a 1949 Skeeter on display at the Museum. Have you ever heard of the Spike Reel, a Haskell Fish Hook, the Snyder Reel, a Buel Trolling Spoon or the Comstock Fly Hellgramite? These rare pieces are all on display. Every old tackle box probably has a Rapala minnow in it. The Museum has one of the first Rapala lures. It was made with silver foil salvaged from chocolate wrappers.  

This complete set of original James Heddon lures was very popular many years ago. David Gray photo.

In your garage, there may be something worth a lot of money. Ever heard of a Kentucky Tackle Box? It is a rare metal tackle box that collectors today will pay a lot of money to acquire.  One of these is displayed at the Museum, and you can learn to identify one there.

Ever heard of Phillipp? It was a company that made popular trout flies. The company also made a few, very few, trout fly rods. Only three are known to exist. If you see an old bamboo-looking fly rod at a garage sale and the label is Phillip, buy it. Some say it would bring $100,000 to a collector!

I can’t wait to return to Branson with my family for the fishing, the fun, and now that I know – the museums!  Below, don’t miss one of the latest attractions on the Boardwalk: The Aquarium. This facility offers a virtual 3D submarine adventure ride as you are guided through the maze of displays by Aquarius the Octopus and Finn the Pufferfish. 

The Aquarium at the Boardwalk is one of the newest things to do in Branson, Missouri, and is unlike any other aquarium in the country. Forrest Fisher photo

 

Their Life, My Lens – A TV Fishing Show for “Abled Kids”

Posted on by Dave Barus

By Forrest Fisher

When you move to new places and like to fish, you join groups that bring folks together who enjoy fishing. At a recent Sarasota Salt Strong Fishing Club meeting, vice-president Merlin Troyer introduced the guest speaker, a gracious and humble-minded young lady named Chasten Whitfield. In less than 25 minutes, this young lady changed the view of many in attendance, inspiring them to consider how essentially important the fun of fishing can be to others in need. 

An expert angler and bass fishing champion through high school and college, this young lady impressed every one of the 90 people in attendance. Her welcoming smile and tonal clarity in communication made her an instant hit with the entire audience. Chasten started by sharing that she was inspired and filled with love for sharing the fun of fishing with others – especially others who might never have a chance to learn about fishing. Kids and adults alike.  

Chasten was looking for people that were somehow incapacitated in their life by human ailments, be they physical, emotional, or otherwise. She provided details about her high school and college education and communication classes, learning more about the demands of fishing competitions and the needs filled after winning or simply catching a big fish. She wondered how a similar endorphin effect might apply to help people with ailments. These people might need a spoonful of rescue and fun. 

Her voice and smile filled the church hall with the inspiring tones of human care and love for others. She received an overture of hearty applause several times.   She provided ways to help but suggested that everyone look up the online website. Click the picture below.

Her story is unique and echoes her passion for fishing. At 13 years of age, she purchased her first boat from babysitting earnings, then passed the test for a boater’s license. She detailed how she was often bullied because she was the only girl in her class that fished. Encouraged by her mom to disregard the boo-hoo kids, she entered her first fishing tournament. She won, and surprising everyone, she returned the championship cash winnings to the tournament charity. She continued to demonstrate her capabilities as an angler. At 15, she received the lady’s certified IGFA record catch for her 178-pound tarpon, except she released it. She said, “I just couldn’t kill that fish for the record book.” Applause came. In her sophomore year of high school, she and four lady friends fished their town’s super bowl of tournaments. She paused, then smiled and said, “We won first place. The town turned upside down.” Applause again. 

At 18, she received her USCG Charter Captains license. She said, “At this point, we began to visit schools, girl scouts, and churches to teach the basics of fishing. While teaching, we would talk to kids about the critical issues of bullying and social media. Then, I met Easton during a summer job teaching at a fish camp. Easton has Spina Bifida.”

“After I met Easton, I discovered what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I immediately contacted a boat company about making a customized boat to accommodate a child-size wheelchair, so I could help kids have an amazing fishing experience. Yellowfin created a hybrid boat that I took to the College Bass Series and FLW Professional Bass Series. It was a good thing.” 

Also, in her sophomore year of high school, Chasten was recruited to the Savannah College Art and Design bass fishing team. They were the only all-girls college bass fishing team at the time. She added, “I now have my Bachelor of Fine Arts in TV and Film from Savannah.” More soft applause. 

Speaking clearly and ever-so humbly, Chasten shared that she was blessed in 2022 to host her own TV show. Her goal was to demonstrate the ABILITIES, not DISABILITIES, of her TV Show guests. She sent in one episode, and the TV Show was signed. She is working to continue her outreach and support program with the help of sponsors, supporters and the general public. 

Visit https://chastenation.com/ to learn more about the program and how you can help. 

You can find her TV show, THEIR LIFE, MY LENS,” on the Pursuit Channel on Wednesdays at 5:30 p.m. and Thursdays at 9:30 p.m. The show appears on Destination America TV on Saturdays at 8:00 a.m. and streaming anytime on Waypoint TV.   

About Chastenation: Founded in 2015, Chastenation was founded by Chasten Whitfield, a 23-year-old angler who proves “it’s more than just fishing.” Our mission is to help give differently-abled kids and their families a moment to forget about doctor appointments or therapy and focus on reeling in that fish.

Mother Nature and Outdoor Media meet at Lake Wilson, Kansas

Posted on by Dave Barus

By Jonathan Blumb and David Zumbaugh

Secretary Brad Loveless of the Kansas Department of Wildlife and Parks spoke to communicators.

The Outdoor Communicators of Kansas held their spring conference in Wilson, Kansas – the Czech Capital of the state. Local introductions and hospitality were provided at the unforgettable Midland Railroad Hotel. The town of less than 1,000 is strategically located for hunters and fishers. Cheyenne Bottoms Marsh and Quivira National Wildlife Refuge are just South, and Lake Wilson is just to the North. This berg was settled in 1874 by Bohemian immigrants who came to the area to work on the railroad, establishing the town as the Kansas Center of Czech Culture.

This group of media professionals and freelance contributors to sporting publications does more than just have fun on their outings. Their charitable efforts support youth engagement in the outdoors, offer college scholarships, fund hunting licenses for veterans, and contribute to junior shotgun shooting sports. Since 1961, members have encouraged people to embrace outdoor activities and support various goodwill events to facilitate their mission.

Lake conditions were clear with low water levels.

Fishing guide Joe Bragg of Wakefield, Kansas, and local guides Dale Hines of Sylvan Grove and Wayne Loy of Lincoln graciously gave willing fishers a grand tour of the lake. Members Nick Neff and Mike Miller towed their boats along for big fish bragging rights contests. Mother Nature cooperated, offering beautiful, clear blue skies and mild breezes assisting angling endeavors. Some chose to fish off the shore, as Wilson offers many public access sites to reach deep water and big fish – without a boat.

Rods and reels got a workout as most anglers succeeded with walleye, bass, crappie, wipers, and drum brought to the net. While the bite was less than hot, no one complained because they got to fish Lake Wilson! The waters are renowned for giant stripers; some are even hooked through the ice in winter. Walleye tournaments are common, and smallmouth bass reach seven pounds. A bowfishing tournament, sponsored by Knotheads Bait Shop, was held concurrent with the OCK meeting, with participants from six states shooting huge carp and garfish in the backwater coves.

Joe Bragg caught his first Lake Wilson crappie.

This lake is a favorite with campers, hikers, bikers, hunters, paddlers, and water sports enthusiasts. The epic Switchgrass bike trail is a huge draw, which is not suggested for mountain biker beginners. There are several exceptional hiking trails for all levels of mobility. The Rock Town Trail is spectacular, with views of the lake and overhanging cliffs.

Nearby lodging is available in Russell and Lucas. Kansas Parks and Wildlife has cabins available at Wilson State Park. Several RV campgrounds are available. One is within walking distance of the dam spillway, which offers excellent fishing opportunities when the water is flowing.

Some members took a break from piscivorous pursuits to visit area attractions. One cannot visit Russell County without stopping in Lucas to be amazed at the bizarre Garden of Eden, take in the well-stocked art shops, and have a burger at the K-18 Café. Of course, you must pick up some brats at Brant’s Market to take home.

Attendees were treated to another natural outdoor festival. A fish fry was held at a Lake Wilson State Park cabin.

A fish fry was held in the Hell Creek Area of Wilson State Park.

Someone even Bar-B-Queued bobwhite quail procured from a recent pointer field trial for an over-the-top feast!

Of course, practiced lies were sheepishly spoken about the big one that got away and the snake that tried to get in a boat, but all was accepted in fun. As the evening waned, all were rewarded with a magnificent sunset, which decorated the surrounding hills with gorgeous spectral colors.

All photographs are courtesy of Jonathan Blumb. Additional photographs appear at the end of this story.

Resources:

Midland Railroad Hotel, 414 26th St, Wilson, KS; (785) 658-2284; www.midlandrailroadhotel.com

Knotheads Bait Shop, 132 E. Shoreline Rd., Sylvan Grove, KS; (785) 658-2166; 3knotheads@wtciweb.com; www.baitlady.com

Joe Bragg, Fishing Guide, (785) 408-3172; jbraggfishing@gmail.com; www.facebook.com/Slabnabber/

Dale Hines, Fishing Guide, Hines Guide Service; (620) 474-5388; www.hinesguideservice.com

David Zumbaugh and Laska fished from limestone outcroppings west of Minooka-Park

 

Fishing for bass in a shallow cove near the marina.

A New Chapter in Saltwater Fishing: Catching Fish and Sharks in Charlotte Harbor, Florida

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
Simon Cremin with one of 25 sea trout caught while fishing lures and jerk baits over an oyster bed in Charlotte Harbor.

By Forrest Fisher

In the sun-kissed kingdom of Southwest Florida, shimmering waters meet pristine beaches, and tales of fun, exploration, and daring adventure unfold with each fishing trip.

More than once a week, Simon Cremin embarks on a journey to share his unmatchable passion for fishing and the sea. Originally from the United Kingdom, Simon resides with his family in the United States. He is transitioning from fishing in Europe, where the goal was to catch toothy northern pike and musky.

Today, Simon sets out to find and conquer the mighty Apex predators that roam the coastal waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Facing the challenge of choosing the right fishing gear and learning where to fish with success, Simon works with optimistic focus, a grin, and a curious expression to develop answers that satisfy his call for challenging the deep. His fully equipped 19-foot fiberglass Sailfish Boat, powered by a 90 horsepower Yamaha 4-stroke outboard, transports him and his fishing friends to their destination quickly and affordably.

Every summertime saltwater fish trip starts at sunrise. It’s dark when the boat goes into the water.

His home base of operations for learning more about the nationally famous tarpon waterway of Charlotte Harbor, Bull Bay, and Boca Grande is a well-stocked tackle shop called Fish’n Frank’s (941-625-3888). Recently rebuilt after a fiery vehicle accident burned the homey, 5-decades-old tackle store to the ground, the new location in a plaza is located at 4200 Tamiami Trail (US Route 41) in Port Charlotte, FL. Store manager, Robert Lugiewicz, offers a complete and friendly service with live bait, frozen bait, lures, rods, reels, and line, all at affordable prices. Maybe the best part is that the store is filled with nautical wall maps, silent conversations, and finger-pointing to hotspots with fishy details, explanations, and a grin to cheer you on your way. The Lugiewicz staff provides the most considerable degree of encouragement to newbies and retirees that enter this legendary tackle store domain. The visitors find a boost of honest help on what, when, where and how to catch fish. Simon will agree because, with their help, Simon has succeeded.

Launching in Charlotte County from Placida Park (6499 Boca Grande Causeway) or Charlotte Beach public boat ramp (4500 Harbor Blvd.), Simon usually meets up with one or two local friends. They check lines and leaders, then head out to explore the legendary, island-filled coastline and mangrove-filled backwaters of Charlotte Harbor. Simon says, “Each fishing trip is new to me, as I am still sort of new to the area. It’s fun to learn where to find fish, and we have found fish in some of the most remote areas imaginable.” Laughing a bit, Simon says, “Good thing most of my friends have little fear and a brave heart.”

The morning scenery can be amazing as daylight and warming occur to form cloud formations that are absolutely beautiful.

Simon continues, “We fish simple. We use my electric bow motor to access secluded backwaters where we have found some of the largest fish, including Tarpon, Snook, Redfish and Speckled Trout. Of course, wherever we go, I focus on also catching a Shark, they are so powerful, and there are so many types here. I have learned with each fishing trip and have evolved to establish a simple system that offers an opportunity to catch multiple species, and sharks too.”

Simon prefers the back of the boat to the front, so his fishing partner is offered control of the boat, running the bow motor for the day. Simon says in his British accent, “All of my fishing buddies seem to enjoy that part of our 6 to 8-hour fish trips. We each cast lines with plastic-tailed jerk baits on weighted weedless hooks or throw hard baits. Both lure types are designed to mimic the local forage groups. Doing that, I like to trail one or two lines for Shark. I have learned that it is better to trail one line simply. You can get into a real mess with two trailing lines when a handsome Gafftopsail Catfish hits and runs laterally. In the back of the boat, I can still cast out the side of the boat for multiple species, but now I trail just one line with a huge bobber, a wire leader and a huge hook with a half ladyfish or other cut bait. Some days, we catch five sharks and more than 50 other gamefish. It’s exciting! I’ve even caught sharks while casting lures. They can be that aggressive. “

Simon says, “Snook, redfish, trout, catfish, and others, like this bluefish, are all out there chomping on our lures.”

Simon explained that on one trip while discovering a new oyster bed with nearby emerging sea grass, he and his partner caught 11 different species while hooking up with 3 Tarpon, some more than 6 feet long. They also caught Blacktip Sharks and watched dolphins, stingrays, nurse sharks and bull sharks swim near their newfound fishing zone. In total silence, the intriguing sounds of a circling osprey or a nearby eagle crack the meticulous silence of the fishing mission.

Simon admits that studying the weather, the tides, and moon phases is necessary, but he enjoys the academic side of fishing the saltwater. He also admits he may be pushing the boundaries of his fishing gear at times since he hooked and landed a 7-foot Lemon Shark estimated at 125 pounds in weight, a personal best shark catch on one recent trip. That Shark and all the others were each carefully released to live another day. That giant Shark was caught on a 40-pound braid main line, a 60-pound fluorocarbon leader to the bobber, and a length of 0.040-inch diameter wire leader to an 8/0 circle hook.     

Using a 40-pound test braid and a 60-pound test fluorocarbon leader to wireline worked for this shark. Released alive and hook-free.

Before each fish trip, Simon studies the local areas, reports on marine life, and talks with his newfound friends at Fish’n Frank’s. He studies the successful strategies of others, takes notes, watches videos and readies himself and his boat to face the ultimate challenge and adventure of fishing the saltwater.

Some of the sharks are so huge, and their teeth are readily apparent as they tire and swim alongside the boat. It’s pretty exciting.

Each trip begins with setting sail before dawn, and enormous anticipation fills the air each time. Minutes turn into hours, and there have been times when he admits they have persevered in unpredictable weather and high heat index days, knowing that the ultimate prize may await on the next cast or next drift. Persistence pays off when a gargantuan shadow glides beneath the surface on the end of your line. The true leviathans of the deep live in each of the natural bays here. Simon says, “Each trip is so exciting that when we power the boat onto the trailer at day’s end, I cannot wait for the next time.” Talking with Simon in person, he admits, “Hooking up with one the Sharks, there is adrenaline pumping through my veins, and the fun of it all is indescribable.”

Just when you think the good fishing is over for the day, a drag-screeching Gafftopsail catfish can brighten your day.

Amidst the fish battle struggles, Simon admires the magnificent creature fighting for freedom. He recognizes the importance of conservation and respect for these majestic Apex creatures—reasons why he makes the ultimate sacrifice and releases the Shark. Simon is an advocate for conservation in his community.

In the heart of Southwest Florida, tales of adventure are etched along the coastline and every inlet of the intra-coastal waterway. The Simon Cremin “learn-to-fish” story is a testament to the attraction of the sea and the capacity for personal growth. Through his journey of learning more about saltwater fishing, particularly shark fishing, he has reinforced the importance of responsible fishing practices, the value of conservation, and the irreplaceable wonder to be discovered in the natural world here. As the sun sets on the Gulf waters, the tides of destiny await the next trip. His future focus? As a Charter Captain, his new goal, Simon Cremin plans to share more of his fishing time with others. He’s going to be a good one!  

 

A Fillet Knife to Love…from Knives of Alaska

Posted on by Dave Barus

By Forrest Fisher

A newbie in my gear room would definitely notice that I like to collect knives. Each is handsome, and they can all cut bread, but they each have a purpose. Some of them are fixed-blade, some are folding knives, and there are specialty knives.

That’s where my new fillet knife set from the Knives of Alaska came in last week. While there are knives all over the room, the Knives of Alaska set stands out for good reason: these knives have a hunter-orange handle. You can’t use what you can’t find, and it seems like when I have tasty fish to clean, lots of them, I can never find my fillet knife. Problem solved! And the color thing also keeps it out of my sock drawer (my better half places things with destination unknown in my sock drawer).

The Coho Fillet Knife at 13 inches overall with an 8-1/2 inch blade. It’s 3 inches longer than its smaller fillet knife cousin, the Steelheader, which offers a 5-3/4 inch blade. Both knives are 440C steel, with 18-20 degree blade bevel.

Above that, these knives are not ordinary. A good fillet knife needs to be flexible and sharp, it needs to maintain sharpness, and it needs to fit right in your hand. While we are all different, we can’t be very good at the job without all these virtues. All that considered, lastly, my best fillet knives exhibit a balance between the blade and the handle to link and sync my brain to program how my wrist and hand work together. Of course, the best fillet knife for the job at hand also depends on the size of the fish, and that’s why having fillet knives of different sizes matters for good reason. Precise cutting is no accident.

The Coho Fillet Knife at 13 inches overall with an 8-1/2 inch blade. It’s 3 inches longer than its smaller fillet knife cousin, the Steelheader, which offers a 5-3/4 inch blade. Both knives are ground with an 18-20 degree blade bevel. Having the two-knife set allows for medium and larger-sized fish filleting with little effort. A nylon sheath is included. Both knives have a comfortable sure-grip and a layered polymer handle to assure a positive hand-hold. I especially like that. Click the picture below to visit the store.

On the technical side, these fillet knives are made from high-hardness steel (440C). That means they hold an edge because this blade material retains its hardness quality for a long time. I fish in freshwater and saltwater, so I need the sharpness retention quality to assure perfect fillets for the table. The high chromium content means high corrosion resistance. While this steel is hard and corrosion resistant, the manner in which Knives of Alaska manufactures these, provides the best of all worlds. In short, the balance of blade material properties makes it relatively easy to sharpen. How can you beat that? You can’t.

The Coho Knife is sold retail for under $100, while the Steelheader sells for under $90; the sheaths are extra. The two-knife set includes a sheath that will hold both knives, and it sells for $189.99.

Knives of Alaska has become well known for their durable construction, sharp blades, and ergonomic designs. They cater to the specific needs of hunters and outdoor enthusiasts. If you value performance, durability, functionality, and affordability, do yourself a favor, and check them out.  Click on the picture below.

 

Spring is Ticking into Summer

Posted on by Dave Barus

Deer Ticks (Blacklegged Ticks – Ixodes Scapularis) can carry Lyme Disease and are VERY TINY. CDC photo. 

 

By Forrest Fisher

It’s time to fish, hike, camp, and bird-watch, and it’s time to sit on a quiet park bench anyplace you like. Right now is also an excellent time to take 5 minutes to learn more about deer ticks and Lyme disease. Read this article. Remember it. Please share it. It could save you or your loved ones from a life of medical care and unwanted jeopardy.

According to the CDC, Lyme disease is the most common vector-borne disease in the United States. Lyme disease is caused by the bacterium Borrelia burgdorferi and, rarely, Borrelia mayonii. It is transmitted to humans through the bite of infected black-legged ticks. Typical symptoms include fever, headache, fatigue, and a characteristic skin rash called erythema migrans. If left untreated, the infection can spread to joints, the heart, and the nervous system. Lyme disease is diagnosed based on symptoms, physical findings (e.g., rash), and the possibility of exposure to infected ticks.  Laboratory testing is helpful if used correctly and performed with validated methods. Most cases of Lyme disease can be treated successfully with a few weeks of antibiotics. Steps to prevent Lyme disease include using insect repellent, removing ticks promptly, applying pesticides, and reducing tick habitat. The ticks that transmit Lyme disease can occasionally transmit other tickborne diseases as well.

Several years back, but not that long ago, three of my seven grandkids were bitten by a tiny little critter that many of us would have passed off as a speck of dirt and not thought twice about it. But, the little sliver of dirt was hard to brush off. It was embedded into the skin and looked like a tiny, little beauty spot. At first notice, the thought is that it’ll go away. It’s just a beauty post or a piece of dirt. Get some soap. That was just the beginning. After a shower and a few days of baths, good old Mom noticed that the little brand-new beauty spot had grown in size. She did not know there was a little critter in there, and it had filled its holding tanks with her child’s blood. It was a juvenile deer tick—less than the size of a dark sesame seed on your morning bagel.

Picaridin is an insect repellent for BARE SKIN USE, suggested for Deer Tick bite prevention. Cost: about $12.

In the old days, most of us would say, so what? You got bit by a tick, grow up, be a big boy and take a shower more often. Today, science has educated us. The concern today is that deer ticks carry Lyme disease and many other pathogens that cause diseases that are hard to diagnose and harder to treat. In many cases, if initially left untreated, the best prognosis for the more than 400 other Lyme-related diseases is front and center.

Back to the grandchild. Two days later, that little beauty spot was suddenly about 25 times larger. It was easy to see now. Trying to brush off that little spot directly caused a gush of blood from the embedded deer tick. The blood ran and stained the skin. So much so that the blood was running like when you have a small cut on your skin surface. Deer ticks are hungry little, suction-prone, disease-exchanging little critters. Not a disaster, but you might need a few tissues and a small band-aid. That’s not the end. The actual deer tick was still embedded. You or a medical person with skilled tweezers must remove the tick and wait a few weeks to see if you develop Lyme symptoms or get it tested to identify if it carries Lyme disease. Visit Ticknology at https://www.ticknology.org/tick-testing. Lyme and tick-borne disease is often misdiagnosed. As a result, the opportunity for early treatment is missed. Ticknology is one of several lab services that offer tick testing to identify early detection of Lyme or related disease exposure. Many folks prefer to order a Universal Tick Test from Ticknology and receive a comprehensive evaluation of Lyme-related infection risk.

The truth of the deer tick world is that many of these little critters are so small right now – in their nymph stage (just born) – they are hungry and looking for a host. Like their deer tick parents who used up all their energy delivering hundreds of young deer ticks. The deer ticks get Lyme disease from the mice, not vice versa. The ticks cuddle close to the mouse as they are trying to stay warm in the coldest of winter. Then the deer ticks find warm weather, and they leave the mouse. The mommy deer ticks are looking to bear their young on a flower, a weed, a horse, a dog, a backyard plant, a rose, you, me, or somewhere on a bristle of green weeds in your garden and many other places. The point is, beware of these little disease carriers and killers of human health. Why the sudden increase in deer tick numbers and Lyme cases? That’s a mystery.

About 15 years ago, many doctors misdiagnosed Lyme disease for about 400 other conditions. Many folks today still suffer from that lack of early medical awareness. Times have changed, the blood testing process is better, and the medical world has recognized this mysterious disease’s seriousness. About 40 percent of deer ticks tested today are carrying Lyme. Be aware.

Permethrin is an insect repellent for GEAR, SHOES and CLOTHING, suggested for Deer Tick bite prevention. Cost: about $12.

What to do if you like to enjoy the outdoors:  Stay aware. Understand that tick season is year-round, and spring and summer are their peak activity periods. Be careful if you hike in wooded areas or venture forth in places with high grass. Walk in the center of the trails. Wear long sleeves and, while it may look stupid, tuck your pants into your socks or shoes top. Use tick-repellent products registered by the US EPA. According to reports, DEET is effective, but the go-to for most folks is to use Picaridin on your exposed skin outside your clothing and treat your exterior clothing, shoes, socks, and other gear with Permethrin. The Permethrin (0.5 percent strength) can last several washings (about four to six weeks). Once your hike, bike, camp or outdoor adventure trip is over and you are back inside at home, toss all your clothes into the dryer on high heat for 10-15 minutes. Heat kills deer ticks. Then do a full body check. Use a mirror. Be extra sure in difficult-to-see areas such as under your arms, around your hair, ears, back of knees, between your legs and especially here: inside your belly button. This is serious; no laughing. To further reduce risk, shower immediately after coming in and after your initial inspection. Why shower immediately? There may still be ticks on you that went unnoticed and are not yet attached. A shower will wash them away.

Uh-oh. During your look-see, you find a deer tick on you. It’s embedded. Not to worry, but remove it. The CDC says to use tweezers to remove the tick. Grip the tick and apply a steady outward pressure across the entire diameter of the embedded tick. It may take a few seconds or a minute, but it will eventually come out. Do not twist the tick with the tweezers. We don’t want to break off the mouth. Then save the tick. Wrap it in a tissue and place it into an old prescription container. Then clean the bite area with rubbing alcohol or soap/water, and wash your hands thoroughly. You can watch for symptoms for the next few weeks or visit your doctor. Show him your tick. Depending on his diagnosis, he may send it for testing or provide antibiotics. About eight out of 10 people immediately treated are cured when bitten by a Lyme-carrying tick. The numbers show that about 10 to 20 percent develop Lyme disease syndrome with lingering symptoms, including fatigue, joint pain, mental confusion, and much more. Deer ticks carry Lyme and many other diseases. It can be nasty.

If you were bit and developed a “bulls-eye” rash near the bite location, about one-third of folks display this condition – the typical treatment is Doxycycline or a similar antibiotic for as long as the first 30 days. That is up to the doctor. If you have no bulls-eye rash but are developing a fever, rash or headache, muscle pain, joint swelling or other unusual symptoms, or any uncommon illness, see a doctor ASAP.

Stay aware of Lyme disease and deer ticks. AND get rid of your mice! They infect the ticks.

Toby Keith Acquires Iconic Fishing Brand: Luck E Strike

Posted on by Dave Barus
Singer, songwriter, and entertainer Toby Keith, has acquired Luck E Strike. He is a fisherman too.

Singer, songwriter, and entertainer Toby Keith, pictured left, has acquired Luck E Strike, a bait and tackle brand name as ingrained with top-tier anglers as weekend recreationists.

Endorsed by National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Famer Jimmy Houston and operated by sporting goods industry vets Jeff Williams (General Manager) and Todd Hempen (Operations Manager), the company is relaunching this summer with a new focus on its traditional American-made division in Greenwood Ark., while maintaining the current assortments sold nationwide, as well as a new slogan: “An American Original Since 1970.”

For the singer of “Made in America,” Luck E Strike occupies a special place in the world of outdoor sports. “They’ve got a lot of history,” Keith says. “It’s one of the earliest fishing brands universally stocked in national retailers.”

In the bass fishing world, Luck E Strike is well known for tackle kits, hand-crafted crankbaits, and its Redman Spinner Bait. The latter was designed by Houston, who used it successfully for decades, and it led to his two 1st Place Finishes at the Bassmaster Classic. Trading in its prior yellow and black packaging, the Redman Spinner will be the first lure to lead the company’s new red, white, and blue packaged product line in the coming months. Details and timeline are forthcoming.

The company’s biggest brand ambassador is the host of the 46-year-running Jimmy Houston Outdoors television show. “Jimmy is one of about three big legends in the fishing world,” Keith says. “He has been a spokesperson for Luck E Strike for decades and started building his Redman Spinners out of diaper pins and selling them to Walmart.”

National Fresh Water Fishing Hall Of Famer Jimmy Houston.

Houston asserts this acquisition will make an impact in the world of fishing. “In addition to being one of the best singers and songwriters, Toby Keith is an incredible patriot,” he says. “Tying those two together in an American lure company known for making outstanding bass and crappie lures at great prices is so exciting. As his friend, I’m happy seeing the fire in his eyes over this company. It’s a big deal for the fishing industry as a whole to have him involved and bringing this brand back to where it ought to be.”

Having fallen on hard times, the company had been in disarray. “They needed a new focus and vision, and I happened to be standing at the door ready to pick up the pieces,” Keith says.

“I’ve got a house on a lake where they hold a lot of fishing tournaments, and I became friends with Jeff, who has built two big tackle brands,” he continues. “He reached out and told me Luck E Strike was for sale, and he was as interested as I am in rebuilding it.”

Luck-E-Strike-General-Manager-Jeff-Williams (Left)-and-Luck-E-Strike-Operations-Manager-Todd-Hempen (Right)

Williams is an accomplished angler, bait and tackle developer, and businessman whose brands have included Team Catfish and Fle-Fly. “Everyone knows Luck E Strike and its industry-leading lures,” Williams says. “It’s a working folk’s brand, and Toby Keith is the right person at the right time to build this thing back up. We’re already hard at work rebuilding wholesale relationships and vetting tackle manufacturers, domestically and abroad. Luck E Strike will be a global tackle brand, with Toby’s involvement.”

Hempen has more than 30 years of retail and supply chain experience with some of the biggest names in sporting goods, including Bass Pro Shops, Walmart, and Amazon. “I am honored to be working with Toby and this team to revitalize the Luck E Strike brand,” Hempen says. “This will be a big deal for Toby’s fans and the faithful Luck E Strike customers.”

Known for his prodigious work ethic, Keith is ready to go. “This team is so good, and the brand and product speak for themselves,” he says. “Through the years, Luck E Strike has sold hundreds of SKUs nationally at major retailers. Unfortunately, that business has dwindled some, but we will build that backup and add some rod-and-reel combos, apparel, fishing tools, and tackle systems. We will put this brand back at the level it deserves.”

“I’m a nostalgic guy, and that’s part of it, but this is great stuff,” he continues. “I know a bunch of pro anglers, and they’re all telling me if I can get them the stuff, they’ll fish with it.” With the expertise and marketing muscle Toby Keith is investing in, it’s a safe bet they will be one of many companies using and having success with Luck E Strike lures.

About Toby Keith: Arguably the most prolific self-directed creative force in the country’s modern era, Toby Keith has amassed 42 top 10 hits, 32 No. 1s, 40 million albums sold, and more than 10 billion streams largely on the strength of his own songwriting and producing, and under the banner of his own Show Dog Nashville record label. Among his many accomplishments, the New York-based all-genre Songwriters Hall of Fame (2015), the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame (2021), and BMI Icon (2022) are his most treasured.

 

 

Mending Lives and Healing Hearts of Youth in Need

Posted on by Bill Frye

By Bill Frye, President – Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches, Inc.

As I write “My Perspective” for our quarterly Rancher Magazine, I am sitting at the dining room table in my home in North Carolina. I drove up after a very busy and engaging Easter weekend with our grandchildren Jackson and Cora Rose. It was a planned getaway as I had much to do with writing, meeting preparations, upcoming evaluations and visits. I just needed to be away from all the hustle and bustle of the office and have some quiet time to put my thoughts in order before reengaging with everyday work. While I truly love what I do, it does at times become overwhelming, and in those moments, solitude can be very healing, especially if you take the time to be still and spend time in prayer. So off to the mountains of North Carolina, I fled, taking with me everything I needed to work on.

Driving alone can be very therapeutic, especially if the traffic is not too bad. Sometimes it allows you to reflect on past events or come up with new ideas on how to move a project forward. However, most of all, it allows me time to give thanks to God for all that has been provided to me and others over the years. This drive was no different because it gave me time to be still and remember the little blessings I somehow overlooked.

As I began my ascent into the mountains, I noticed the variations of colors; the trees were just beginning to produce new leaves as spring was arriving. In the lower elevations, the leaves were fuller and darker in color, and as I drove upward, they became lighter in color and much smaller in size. When I arrived at my home, the trees were still bare, and colder temperatures had not yet allowed new leaves to form. Looking down the mountain, you could easily see the transition. By the end of this week, I am sure it will be much different.

As I stood in my dining room and looked out the window toward the valley below and the brown-leaf-covered landscape, something caught my eye. Growing on the side of the mountain was a tulip plant with three beautiful red blooms. The blooms stood out against the barren landscape that had yet to come back to life after a hard winter. Seeing those tulips started me thinking and remembering how our lives are filled with many blessings.

Like when a child first arrives at one of our summer camps. They sometimes arrive with a frightened look on their faces, scared of the new environment, wondering if they will be liked or accepted. Will they make new friends? Will the counselors be nice? Are those deputies going to be mean? The landscape of their arrival is sometimes barren because of their fear of the unknown. Then, just as those beautiful red blooms changed a bleak mountainside into something remarkable, the counselor’s smile, the deputy’s warm greeting, and the introduction to the new cabin mates melt away the apprehension, and the landscape begins to transition. By the end of the session, it’s like looking down the mountain and seeing the brown winter vegetation becoming lush green vegetation of spring and summer. The child who arrived frightened has blossomed into a happy, smiling camper with new friends and special bonds with their camp counselors and the deputies who spent time with them. As they leave, they carry their own positive memories because of everything they experienced and accomplished.

The same is true for the children who come to live with us at one of our residential campuses. While they choose to come live with us for many reasons, they often arrive with frightened looks, wondering if they will be accepted and liked by the others already living there.  Many arrive with so much emotional baggage from life experiences that they find it difficult to let go of past hurts, disappointments and fears they encountered in their young lives. Their personal landscape is barren and void of hope, with only the fear of the unknown.  However, with the love and support and tolerance found within our ranch community – from our cottage parents to our support staff – kids can become free of their past baggage and discover new life. All with the help of those who are committed to their care and well-being. Then, as they grow up and build lives of their own, they too will be better prepared to face the future not with anticipation and fear, but with resolve and determination.

In this day and age of negative events being broadcast through news programs and social media, the landscape around us often looks barren. In some ways, our country and communities are like my mountain landscape after a hard winter. However, there are blessings to be discovered, and for me, those blessing are found within my family, my beautiful grandchildren, our donors, sheriffs, supporters and alumni who make it possible for our wonderful staff and volunteers to help improve the lives of children who come to us for care.

I pray that each and every person reading this 65th Anniversary edition of the Rancher Magazine discovers the many everyday blessings being provided to children because of your kindness and generosity.

God Bless.

From the publisher of ShareTheOutdoors – About Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches: The mission of the Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches is to prevent delinquency and develop lawful, resilient and productive citizens through a broad range of services. In 2023, the Youth Ranches will serve over 4,000 boys and girls. This charitable, nonprofit organization was founded by the Florida Sheriffs Association in 1957 and operates three residential care campuses along with three summer camps. Additionally, it provides community-based services to as many of Florida’s neglected, troubled children as funds will permit. Voluntary contributions are the primary source of funding, especially thoughtful gifts made through special bequests in wills and trusts. To donate in any of several ways, please visit https://www.youthranches.org/index.php. The Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches, Inc. is nationally accredited by the Council on Accreditation of Services for Families and Children, Inc. and the American Camp Association. If you would like more information about the Youth Ranches, please contact us at 1-800-765-3797, or email us at fsr@youthranches.org.

Please note that the photographs, forms, videos and this editorial copy are the property of the Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches, Inc. We have requested permission to reprint in order to help others learn about this successful youth program.     

A DIFFERENT KIND OF FATHER’S DAY GIFT LIST

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

By Larry Whiteley

I know there are lots of Father’s Day gift lists out there and you’re probably being bombarded with all kinds of ads and people telling you what to get. Take a little time to read this though, and it could be the best Father’s Day that dad has ever had.   

Father’s Day gifts don’t have to be expensive. They can be a gift you made or had made that is humorous, puts a smile on their face or brings back fond memories.

Here are some ideas any outdoor dad would love to get for Father’s Day because they are all gifts that come from the heart.

Gather up photos of them with a big fish or buck, kids or grandkids, fishing or hunting buddies, etc. Now, get on your computer and go to www.snapfish.com, www.shutterfly.com, www.walgreens.com and others.

Have a wall or desk calendar made using those pictures for their office or workshop. You can even add important dates like birthdays and anniversaries.

Pictures can also be put on mugs for their coffee, mouse pads for their computer desk, key rings for their truck, aprons for fish fry’s or grilling, luggage tags for trips, playing cards for deer camp, t-shirts and sweatshirts to wear proudly, and phone covers they carry with them all the time.

You can also take a cedar or barn wood board and paint “Gone Fishing”, “Hunting Camp”, “I’d Rather Be Canoeing”, “Fishing Guide for Hire”, or maybe “Hunting and Fishing Stories Told Here”. Every time they look at it they will remember you made it for them.

Those same boards, but maybe a little longer, can be made into hat or coat racks using dowel rods and putting an old shotgun shell over it.  Half cedar logs also work for this.  You can also use pieces of deer antlers, old door knobs or tree limbs.

Another idea is to take old used shotgun shells, as well as rifle or pistol shells, and turn them into lamp or ceiling fan chain pulls.  Drill through the spent primer and insert a chain cut to the length you want.  Fill the shotgun shell with BB’s and close the end.  For the spent rifle or pistol shell, you also drill out the primer and feed the chain through the hole. Then insert a bullet back into the open end.

If dad likes to hike or just go for walks, make him a customized hiking stick. I usually wander through the woods until I find a young tree that will never get very big because of overcrowding. Cedar and hickory are my favorites because they are usually straighter and have more character to them. I have even dug up cedars so I can use the root ball for the top of the stick to make it really unique.

Cut to length to fit your dad, sand off rough spots and round the top of the stick.  Next, drill a hole below where his hand would be and run a piece of leather or rope through the hole to use as a strap.  If you really want to make it special carve his name or something special into his hiking stick.

Other unique things you can make him from cedar limbs include paper clip and pen holders, lamps, towel holders and the list goes on and limited only by your imagination.

If dad enjoys feeding and watching birds in the backyard make him a really neat bird house.  Go online and you can find hundreds of bird house plans to go by as well as plans for making a lot of these things.  Since I have made all the items I have written about, if you have any questions feel free to e-mail me at lwhiteley2@basspro.com and I will be glad to help.

Any of these would make a great Father’s Day gift I am sure dad would love to have because you made it for him.  However, if you are limited by skills or creativity, I am betting there is something else he would like to have more than anything.

Call him and say, “Dad for your Father’s Day present I want to take you fishing” or “Dad for Father’s Day, let’s go camping together just you and me”.  It could also be hiking, canoeing, going to the shooting range or a multitude of other outdoor activities.  Even just sitting around a campfire in the woods, near the water or in the backyard would be a great gift.

Sure they will appreciate the store bought gifts or gifts you made, but most dads’ spell love T.I.M.E.  What is most important to them is time with just you or the whole family out enjoying our great outdoors and making memories.

Note: All pictured items made by the author.

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

The Hunting Wire team would like to thank you for helping us grow in 2023. We are bigger and better than ever, mainly due to you – our readers. Thank you for tuning in every two weeks for our hunting community’s latest news and information.

Spring is here – finally. Hopefully, by now, you’ve bagged your bear or gobbler, or you’re figuring out how to pay your safari taxidermy bills. Wendy and I are headed to the woods this evening to (try) to get her first bird. We’ll let you know how it goes.

This issue’s Voice of Leadership Panel essay by The Mule Deer Foundation’s Luke Thorkildsen is an eye-opener for those who may not know how conservation funding works.

Speaking of the Voice of Leadership Panel, we’re looking for volunteers for the next cohort, which begins in September 2023. It would help if you were a discerning, eager, emerging leader in our community who wants to showcase his or her concerns for community issues on a global scale. We’ll give you the platform and mentorship to find, socialize, and grow ideas to improve the hunting community. We are especially interested in voices from the guide and outfitting realm, ammunition communities, archery communities, and local, state, and federal agencies. Don’t let bureaucracy stop you. Ryan Brown – Executive Director, Virginia Department of Wildlife Resources, proved you can actively and aggressively participate in our panel. We challenge other government leaders to join us. I’d also like to take a moment to give another Ryan, Ryan Hoover of Handgun Hunters International, a shot-out. Hoover is one of our strongest panelists, with timely, well-written, and challenging work; the handgun-hunting community is fortunate to have him as a leader. If you’re interested in serving on the 2023-2024 Voice of Leadership Panel, send me an email at jay@theoutdoorwire.com

As always, hunt safe!

— Jay Pinski, Editor – Hunting Wire, Archery Wire

Calling ALL Professional Outdoor Communicators   

Posted on by Dave Barus

By David Gray

The Professional Outdoor Media Association (POMA) is a vibrant group of communicators that share content-creation ideas and foster teaching moments about the modern, changing world of the outdoors.

The POMA Conference is a networking and friendship-making opportunity for Writers, Bloggers, YouTubers, Videographers, Website Contributors, Podcasters, Radio Show Hosts, Outdoor Industry Brands and Social Media Influencers who create and share stories, information, and content about the wonders of the outdoors and outdoor sports recreation. It’s a modern, changing world of outdoor communication, POMA has become a solitary leader in the new world of outdoor communication. Register Here.

Come visit with members from SharetheOutdoors.com who will be at the POMA Business Conference, June 12 – 15, 2023, in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. Industry veteran Whitebeards, Larry Whiteley and David Gray, would like to meet and visit with you. Check out www.sharethoutdoors.com to learn more about their outdoor outreach.

At the annual business conference, seminars from talented communicators share tips, ideas and how-to information on how to do what you do to develop greater impact and reach.  All this takes place at the Professional Outdoor Media Association business conference from June 12 – 15.  The largest prize for attendance may be to network with representatives from Outdoor Brands and communicators from other regions of the country. Try new products, learn about new products and gather desirable information to share with readers, listeners and viewers. Check out the POMA Social Media Tool Kit.

If you are a communicator with many years in the business, or if you are just starting out, the POMA business conference is an event made for you. Make friends, and new contacts, and learn tips while you participate in a relaxed, enjoyable, effective business conference. Leave with helpful knowledge and new contacts that will help your purpose.

The Keynote Speaker this year is Col. Nick Nichols of Folds of Honor. Folds of Honor provides life-changing scholarships to the spouses and children of fallen or disabled U.S. service members and first responders. Toyota is a cornerstone ingredient and manufacturer for powered adventure in the form of flawless adventure vehicles and engines. Toyota is sponsoring the POMA Pinnacle Awards for best content creation among POMA members.

The POMA business conference is all about the POMA mission.

POMA Mission: To foster excellence in communications at all levels, help members build their businesses, connect media and industry, promote fair and honest communication of traditional outdoor sports and conservation stories, and mentor the next generation of traditional outdoor sports communicators.

Check out information about POMA or register to attend the business conference at www.professionaloudoormeda.org.

Catching Saltwater Fish – Keep it Simple

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
One of many speckled Sea Trout I caught fishing with Captain Dave Chorazak of Inshore Dream Fishing Charters.

By Forrest Fisher

Just before sunrise, it was still dark, I was greeted with a friendly handshake and a confident, fish-catching happy face by Captain Dave Chorazak of Inshore Dream Fishing Charters.  “My cooler has lots of ice and water bottles; you can add anything you like. It looks like we’re going to have some great weather today. Let’s go see how the fish feel about that!” I was pumped.

As we idled out from Pineland Marina on the west side of Pine Island, birds in the nearby mangroves were singing assertive tunes of good luck to us. I made that assumption. They may have been begging for a free meal, but this fishing trip was artificial lures only.

I am excited and eager to learn more about how to fish the saltwater without live bait, and to understand the gear, the right rods, reels, lines and all that.

Pine Island is just north of Fort Myers, where tens of thousands of folks are still recovering from the devastation of Hurricane Ian storm damage. The storm affected an area about 75-100 miles wide across the Gulf of Mexico shoreline of southwest Florida, where the sea water level rose to 20 feet above the normal. Hard to imagine.

But today, the waters of Pine Island Sound were calm and serene as we were looking out from the marina departure channel. Captain Dave said, “We’re going to fish some of the mangrove-filled inshore bays out here, and we’ll probably see some Osprey and Bald Eagles, and many other birds too.” My camera was ready. “Right now, the waters in the bays and islands are filled with good baitfish. They find the gentle eddy currents that form on one side or the other of the many islands. Finding the little currents allow us to find that forage without much difficulty, and then we cast near to those areas with hopes to catch bigger fish with lures that resemble the forage.” He made it sound pretty easy: 1-2-3 go!

He added, “Any moving tide can work for us. I have some proven waypoints to try that hold solid fish at times if we’re lucky. We’ll be casting from the boat toward the shoreline to try our luck.” The Captain’s voice was inspiring and confident. “Put your Polaroid sunglasses on, tighten your hat strap. You don’t mind if we pick up some speed?” I could only grin and holler, “Me? Mind speed? Let’s hit it!”

He pushed the throttle forward, and the sleek 20-foot Action Craft bay boat hopped out of the water and came to life. The Mercury outboard roared, and I glanced over to the dash to see we were going 45 mph in just a second or two. With the pre-fish talk and the sound of the engine, my anticipation and anticipation gained a mountain of fish-catching momentum. This was thrilling, even without any fish on the line. The boat skimmed along so smoothly, so comfortably.

We were at waypoint number one in a very short time.

Dave added, “Pine Island is the largest island on the Gulf Coast of Florida, it’s part of Lee County. Pine Island Sound forms part of the Intracoastal Waterway, and if you look out west that way, you can see Cayo Costa Island. There are a few smaller islands of some fame, too, like Cabbage Key, a tourist stop with a restaurant for private boats and tour boats. A little south is Captiva Island and then Sanibel Island, both famous vacation places. The fish don’t care. We have lots of fish for everyone to catch.” This soft-spoken fishing expert was very convincing.

About 5 minutes after we started casting, the first fish said hello with a tail swish and surface water blast. A handsome 27-inch speckled trout came aboard.

The boat electronics provided speed, sonar, navigation and communication. Our first stop was a secluded bay. It was so quiet. An Osprey screamed and flew overhead, right above the boat about 20 feet, looking to see if we were delivering breakfast. I talked to the handsome bird, “No baitfish here, ‘ol friend.” He hovered for a moment, came in right above the boat, and then off he went to tend to a nearby nest of young Osprey. His mate was also nearby.

We fished slowly with electric bow motor control.

The 7-foot 6-inch spinning rods were loaded with light lines. The 10-pound test braided line allowed for longer casts to spooky fish – the water was so clear. The 20-pound fluorocarbon leader provided abrasion durability to survive contact with clam and oyster beds, and one or two of my famous errant mangrove tree casts.

One hot fish-catcher was a plastic jerk bait on a weighted weedless hook that provided hours of unforgettable topwater strikes and fish-catching moments.

A double-uni knot tied the leader to the braid. The lures were tied to the leader using a loop knot that Dave described as a knot that provides more wiggle and action. The result was a wide walk-the-dog action, surface and sub-surface, with the lures. We never stop learning.

The artificial lures were from an assortment of Captain Dave’s secret casting baits. The lures resembled the forage: threadfin, pilchards, herring and glass minnows. These minnows flood the inshore waters to feed on algae and plankton as the waters warm with the season. It didn’t take long to find fish.

About 5 minutes after we started casting, the first fish said hello with a tail swish and surface water blast. “Fish on!” Dave hollered. About a minute later, a handsome 27-inch speckled trout came aboard. A beautiful giant trout, it was a picture-perfect fish.

Using Rapala saltwater lures and plastic jerk baits on weighted weedless hooks, the next 3 hours were filled with unforgettable topwater strikes and fish-catching moments. It was sheer, impressive, fishing fun.

The artificial lures from Captain Dave Chorazak’s secret casting baits resembled the forage: threadfin, pilchards, herring and glass minnows.

We motored around the islands, positioning to try various spots. Fishing the moving tide locations to catch several fish species, including snook, speckled trout, ribbon fish, redfish and others.

I managed to lose quite a few fish while bringing about 10 good fish to the boat. I learned by Dave’s example about how to work the baits and what baits work best under what conditions.

We released all the fish to catch on another day, big ones and small ones.

Conservation is key to keeping any fishery healthy, and I was in full support of releasing the fish. We were careful not to damage each fish we landed. It was great to see the clear waters and growth of new seagrass in this vibrant spring fishery.

Captain Dave Chorazak was a volunteer firefighter from Hamburg, NY, near my old hometown, and he was a good friend of my son-in-law, Dieter Voss. That’s how we met a few weeks back, when we all went out for dinner to a tasty Mexican restaurant (Lime Tequila) in Port Charlotte. I was a tournament walleye and bass angler from my history up north, so it was easy to “talk fishing” with Dave at dinner. Some secrets he shared with us at dinner and on the fish trip were provided in confidence, but I’m sure Dave would share these with any customer that asks. You’ll need to sign up for a trip to learn about his fish-catching lures, special knots, the seemingly foul-proof weighted hooks (I hooked plenty of mangrove trees high up and didn’t lose a single lure!), and his tactic secrets that put a lot of fish on my line in a very short time.

Speckled sea trout were on the bite, and they provided fast fun across a variety of baits. We caught snook and other species as well.

This trip was one of the most peaceful, fun-filled, fish-catching days I’ve ever enjoyed over my last 55 years of fishing all around the country.

It was my first experience in a “Bay Boat,” and I discovered these slick craft allow access to shallow bays and flats where no other boat types can go. They are fast, have a large fore and aft deck for casting and a ton of storage lockers and live wells. Captain Dave Chorazak’s boat provided 20 feet of safe, fish-catching space. 

I plan to bring my grandson next time. He is going to really enjoy this. The charter cost is quite affordable ($350), and I look forward to fishing here again soon. Fishing from his flats boat, an open flat platform boat, there is plenty of room for casting, but there is no shade – so bring sun protection. I wore sunscreen and a 360-degree shade-making hat, a fully-aerated long sleeve hoody, and fishing gloves.

The Florida sun is great, but it is hot, even in April, and can damage your skin with nasty sunburn if you go out unprotected. The Captain provides water, but you can bring along other beverages and snacks to add to his onboard cooler. All the tackle and bait and fish licenses are included in this affordable pricing. Hard to beat.

Visit https://inshoredream.com/ to learn more or to make a reservation.

Note: Upon departing the marina, I noted the presidentially famous Tarpon Lodge Restaurant to the south and Randell Research Center to the north of the marina roadway entrance. Many former U.S. Presidents have stopped at Trophy Lodge for their famous seafood menu. The Randell Research Center (RRC) is part of the Florida Museum of Natural History, offering programs dedicated to sharing the archaeology, history, and ecology of Southwest Florida. Their motto is, “As we learn, we teach.” That’s the way I felt fishing with Captain Dave Chorazak.

 

When Old Guys go Fishing – Tricks We Never Share Start with a Question

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
Lure inventor Bill Alexander (L) and Bass Pro field tester Gary Day (R) plan their fishing morning on a west-central Florida lake.

By Forrest Fisher

When young-minded friends meet on the water in Florida for a post-retirement gathering, life is good. Good for at least two reasons: You’ve survived long enough to collect social security and are going fishing. And, if you were smart enough to give your wife permission to go shopping, you know the entire day will have a happy ending when the boat returns to the trailer. Funny how things work with an excellent plan to wet your line!

We met at Gary’s winter home in Auburndale, Fl., moved the ice-filled cooler with water and sandwiches to the boat, and the day was on. Bill said, “Geez Gary, don’t you ever wash your boat. There’s dust on the motor!?” Not 1-second passed when Gary answered, “Well, go get a dust rag over there in the corner. You can be the new pixie dustman.” Gary and Bill have been friends for a long time and fished many bass tournaments together, also as competitors. I was the new guy in this senior collection of age-old, line-casting, bass-fishing quibblers. Gary added, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain there, Forrest. He thinks he knows how to fish.” We all chuckled, and the laugh-fest, fish-fest was in gear.

We piled into Gary’s GMC Terrain with his 19-foot Ranger bass boat and trailer in tow. The boat was filled with strapped-down, ageless fishing rods and reels and many memories about to be relighted for a fun day afloat. Our destination this day was a canal-interconnected lake system near Lakeview, FL. We arrived at the no-charge boat launch on Lake Rochelle, and the fishing fun began. The lake system includes Lake Haines, Lake Rochelle, Lake Conine and Lake Smart. I swear that each time I fish with these guys, we all get a little more clever and imaginative, no thanks to the last lake name there. Old guys know so much about so many things to do with life and fishing! I’m not bragging, as I’m on the side of what we (I) never stop learning.

Bill Alexander says, “One option for fishing the popular wacky rig is to place a slip weight above the hook, not pegged.” Gary Day adds, “Pumping the rig back to the boat, slowly, will cause the sliding line with the hook and worm to create a delay in the worm sink rate. A sure-thing fish-catcher on some days.” This durable and supple new plastic worm is one of the new Xstended Life Apex worms that Alexander and his partner, Paul Williams, have recently invented.

“What should we fish with, Gary? You’re the guide today because you know this water,” Bill asked. “Well, the bass are done spawning as of a few weeks back, so they might be hanging back from the shoreline reeds and in deeper water or not. They might be feeding on their own fry, in shallow. Who knows?” Gary replied. Bill quipped back quickly. “You mean you don’t know.”

“Every day of fishing is different, Big Bill, you know that. It could be the new moon phase, the sunrise clouds, the early overcast fog, or it could be that you just got up too early, Bill. Or maybe…you got me up too early!” Never let your guard down on senior fun fishing days.

I looked toward Gary to say, “I liked where we fished here in Lake Rochelle last time, over there where that big gator hangs out.” I was pointing across the lake to an underwater point with sky-seeking reeds that was also near a quick drop-off. “That’s what I was thinking, too,” Gary replied. The big motor roared to life, we popped out of the hole and were skimming along the smooth lake surface at cheek-waffle speed.

MTO Lure inventor Bill Alexander says, “Not all the fish we catch are giants, but these little guys make the fishing day fun and test the durability of our new Xstended Life Apex plastic worms. You can catch multiple fish without changing this worm.”

About 5 minutes later, Gary plopped the MinnKota Terrova electric bow motor into the water, and we were rigging up lines. The remote control Bluetooth link made it easy for Gary to position the boat to shallow or deep.

Bill tied on an Xstended Life soft bait, a 5-1/4 inch Apex worm in green/red fleck color, using a 4/0 circle hook. I did the same with a blue-black Apex worm, and Gary tied a similar soft plastic tail bait onto a wobble jig. With about 10 casts each, there were no strikes and no fish yet. A few minutes later, I checked my watch to share that it was 8:55 a.m., breakfast time for big old bass looking for big old fishing buddies ready to take their picture. Not a minute later, Bill said, “Fish on! This one is not big guys, but it’s a nice healthy Florida largemouth about a foot long.” Grinning, I said, “They must have heard me, brother Big Bill.” Bill said, “First fish in, guys, pay up.” Bill is a master talker, a great storyteller, and a great friend. Another 45 minutes passed, and Bill yelped, “Well, guys, looks like I got the first fish, the biggest fish, and the moist fish. Bingo, bango, bongo. It’s gonna cost ya’ll.” It’s easy to start speaking Florida English when you’re in Florida, even for just a few months. Bill was developing an accent.

“It’s time to switch, guys.” Gary picked up his first-generation Bass-Pro casting reel bought way back in the 80s – a fishing reel he loves, and tied on a short Berkley Lightning Shad in white-silver color. I switched to a small floating-diving crankbait from Al’s Goldfish Lures called the “Diving Demon.” One of my favorite lures, it dives no deeper than 3-4 feet, no matter how hard or fast you crank. Bill said, “I’m sticking with my worm.”

About two casts later, I had a fish on and pulled a nice 2-pounder into the boat. About 30 seconds later, Gary caught three fish on successive casts. Gary said, “What’s the matter, Bill? Did you spit on the knot and scare the fish away? The fish don’t like you, buddy.” Not exactly sandpaper on sandpaper, but hearty laughs and grins. Then over the next hour, we caught four more fish, Bill too, and the fish bite just plainly turned off. It was 10:30 a.m., and we all knew it was time for man-to-man jaw talk when the fish stopped biting.

Well-maintained “elder” fishing gear works as well or is better than some modern hi-tech fishing tackle.

We always share good talk, usually about things we’ve discovered in life and fishing. Gary is from Oswego, NY; Bill is from near Sylvan Beach, NY; and I was born and raised in western New York near East Aurora. We all accept that Southwest Florida is a great place to escape snow shoveling. We talked about life and cost of living, the differences between New York and Florida, taxes and gas prices. And how census numbers the day before where New York lost 299,500 residents in 2022 while Florida gained 315,000 new Florida residents the same year. “It must be the great fishing guys!” I added. “It could have more to do with taxes,” Gary said. “Let’s not talk about politics, you guys. C’mon.” Bill garbled. Then added, “The water temp is nearly 80 degrees, guys, it’s siesta time for the fish.”

The surface water temperature was approaching 80 early in the day.

We switched our no-fish-biting talk over to lure choices to try now. We covered surface lures, plastic baits, swimbaits, crankbaits, jigs, hair bodies, soft bodies, and plastic worms and their pliability and durability. That led us to talk about lure size and plastic worms. I threw in that I fished with Rick Clunn in the Red River a few years back, and Rick says, “Fish with a 12-inch plastic worm to win the tournament or not, and just one more fisherman in the crowd.” Gary said, “It’s true that bigger lures catch bigger fish or no fish. I won a NY Bass tournament that way once a few years back.” I asked how long ago, and Gary said, “Not that long. It was in the late 90s.” We all laughed. How time flies as we get a bit older.

Our conversation between casts was better than Abbott and Costello telling their story about WHO was on first and WHAT was on second and who and what has changed since then. That took us to cellphones…flip-tops and smartphones, laptops, the internet, grocery delivery to the door, online banking and what it all means. No face-to-face conservation and no touch or emotion between people. That’s when Bill said, “Hey Gary, where are you hiding the fish? Let’s get the sandwiches out and head to another lake in the system.”

As we near the end of the trip, Gary Days says, “I normally save these little ones for Bill.”

Five seconds later, Gary hollered, “Lines up, guys. Get the bread out. Time to move.” He lifted the bow motor, turned the ignition key and the Merc outboard growled to life. Off we went. I love that Merc sound as you begin to feel airborne. Ten minutes later, sandwiches and ice-cold water in hand, we idled into a narrow canal to enter Lake Haines, and watched for ospreys and eagles. Lake Haines is another pothole-style Florida lake. The deepest water is about 18 feet. Gary said, “I don’t fish this lake too often, but sometimes you gotta stick your nose where the wild roses grow. Maybe they’re biting here.”  A broken 5-acre field of water hyacinth patches was floating in front of the canal entry. Heavy wind the previous day had broken them off from their shallow roots near shore.

Bill stood up to cast the first line where the edge of weeds and reeds was about 4 feet deep in clear water. A 30-foot cast, his line immediately moved left, then right, as Bill lifted the rod to hook up with a nice bass – his biggest bass for the day. Smiling ear to ear, “That’s how you do it, guys. Were you watching? Gary? Forrest? Of course, you know I just jinxed us. First cast, first fish in the new lake, we’ll be lucky to catch one more.” Bill’s prediction turned out to be right on. About an hour went by with no hits.

We turned our talk to fishing lures from long ago that we still have and still use and still work, and we laughed a lot. We talked about new lifestyles in winter: fishing and golf and watching spring training baseball games. We also talked about the new pains and aches we all are developing and that, at least for me, I hide with a patented arthritis grin that can fool anyone. We talked about fishing and hunting and how most outdoor sportsmen enjoy everything in between. Our discourse about lures, line brands, rods, reels and fishing gear changes went into great detail.

We agreed that the increasing multitude of American tournament bass fishing contests today might not be good for the fish but was good for the local economies and the tournament owners. We yakked more and laughed a lot. Non-stop. We deliberated taking affordable Canadian fishing trips with friends – in the summer.

The fish needed to be biting better on this day, yet we brought seven non-whopper bass and a giant bluegill to the boat. The lack of non-stop fishing action was great for talking time. The yapping talk and laughing helped us forget everything else on our calendars as we roughed it out from 8 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. We spoke about notable quips and quotes we have heard through the years, like this one: “Remember that without bread, there can be no toast. Without friends, there can be no fun.” So true.

Keep your bread and your friends close.

We headed home.

Fishing with friends on a warm and sunny day in Florida is healthy for the mind and soul.

 

Tasty Chicken Wings…It’s Football Playoff Finger-Food Time!

Posted on by Dave Barus

By Forrest Fisher

The 2023 football playoffs are finally here! As you gather with family and friends, folks are chomping at the bit to celebrate a team they love. Whether you’re planning a tailgate party or a house party, be prepared to serve drop-in guests the best in delicious quick-finger foods. 

My better half and I usually prepare a supply of wild game meats to be cooked in a potpourri-style venue with our favorite dips and sauces for post-pot dunking on the side. Then we back that up with pre-cooked chicken wings or meaty chicken drumsticks from our air fryer at home. If we tailgate, we put them in a pot and warm them up at the tailgate on a portable cooker, but they are good cold too! Everyone loves mouth-watering chicken wings. Of course, you can fry, grill, smoke, or bake the wings at the tailgate or the house. Delicious, however you cook them.

Whatever cooking method you choose, they’re ready to eat when they hit 165F internal temperature. We use the Hi Mountain Seasonings Chicken Wing Bundle (www.himtnjerky.com) to make scrumptious wings. You brush on some olive oil and dust your wings with Trail Dust, Cajun Cowboy, or Pineapple Siracha seasoning for a little more kick. It’s all included in the bundle package, including classic Blue Cheese Dressing and Dip. It’s everything you need for a pre-game football party or a halftime household gala event. 

Need chicken wing recipe options? Download the award-winning collection of their mouth-watering wing recipes. It’s free: https://store-4fsmn3bxeo.mybigcommerce.com/content/pdfs/HMJ_Wings%20Recipies_Final_O.pdf. Or, you can call 1-800-829-2285 to get your chicken wing, dipping sauce and jerky supplies quickly. My better have and I love this stuff!

The Old Oak Tree

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
From tiny acorns, old oak trees grow.

By Larry Whiteley

For over 50 years, an old oak tree stood near the corner of our house. It was no ordinary tree. Two oak trees had grown together at the trunk many years ago. It was massive in circumference and stood over 80 feet tall. The shade over our house and the oxygen it produced were invaluable to us. The fall colors of that tree added beauty to our yard.

Six other oaks are in the backyard. Two other oak trees are in front of the house. All are big, all are old, but none as old or as big as the old oak tree. The giant stood out among the other oaks, the maple trees, the redbuds, the buckeye, the dogwoods, and the spruce trees.

The giant old oak was always home to the birds. They built their nests, raised their babies, and sang their songs. The squirrels enjoyed the acorns it produced and also built nests in it. Gathering up all the leaves every fall was a chore. Picking up small limbs that fell in our yard and driveway was a pain. My wife and I both loved that old oak tree.

The Wisconsin birdhouse.

One year I made a birdhouse. I painted it white and then put a Wisconsin red “W” on it. It hung on the side of the tree where we could see it every time we drove up our driveway. It reminded us of our youngest son, his wife, and grandsons living in Wisconsin. When our grandkids that live near were little, they enjoyed a rope swing tied to one of its limbs. It also served as a backdrop for many pictures.

Several years ago, I noticed a hole at the bottom of the tree and fungi growing around the base of it. I called an arborist to come to check it out. He told me it wasn’t anything to worry about and the tree would live for many more years. He was wrong.

The hole kept getting bigger. Black ants moved in and started eating the wood. Fungi kept coming back around the base. I called another arborist. His concern, as was mine, was the possibility of the massive roots starting to rot underground. If that was happening and strong winds or an ice storm came along, the tree could end up crushing most of our house.

A neighbor up the road has a tree-trimming business. We hired him to do the job. I told him to cut it down and leave the wood I could cut and split for our wood-burning stove. Then haul the big logs away.

On the day they were to cut down our old friend, I was out early that morning taking pictures to remember it. I stood there for a long time just looking at it. I admit, there was a lump in my throat and maybe a little tear in the corner of my eye.

As they started, I couldn’t watch. I went to my workshop and tried to keep busy. I turned up the radio. I did not want to hear the saws. When the saws went silent, I stepped out and looked at where the tree used to be. They had already moved and stacked all the logs I would keep. I would now spend a lot of time cutting, splitting, and stacking. The old tree will now keep us warm for several winters.

The beginning of the end.

I had asked for their final cut to be right above where the two oaks had grown together so long ago. The stump was almost six feet tall. I stood on a big rock to get high enough to count the tree rings. I wanted to know how old it was. When I finished counting, I did it again to make sure. It was over 200 years old.

I stood there and imagined a squirrel burying two acorns at this spot back in the early 1800s. Like most squirrels, he probably forgot where he buried them. Maybe the squirrel died before he found them from a Native American Indian arrow. The acorns eventually sprouted and pushed their way up through the soil. The two little trees grew closer together until they eventually became one.

Thinking about that, I went into the house and got on my computer. I started searching for what it was like in this part of America 200 years ago when the old giant old oak started its life. I wondered what that tree could have told me about what it had seen and heard.

It was here when the Osage Indians lived where our home now sits. It was still a young tree when the white settlers came to the land of the Osage. They built cabins and fences out of the trees and cut them down for firewood. It must not have been big enough to use, so they left it alone, and it continued to grow.

The old oak tree in all its majesty.

There were several dark marks on the tree rings. The neighbor said it was where barbed wire fencing was attached to the tree. Counting the rings from those marks to the outside told me there was probably a farm here sometime in the early 1920s. My wife and I have always thought there was a barn here at one time. I have found old rusted wire and nails around the property. The dirt is blacker in some places than in the rest of our land. That tells me there was a farm long ago. 

When we bought the land over 50 years ago, we wanted our house close to the old oak tree. Back then, there were only a few other houses around. I hunted for deer and turkey in the woods behind us. I hunted rabbits in the fields with my sons. I searched for morel mushrooms in the woods. My boys and I caught fish in the pond up the road.

It was quieter then. Now we hear lawnmowers running, dogs barking, and kids playing. Today, no matter which direction we look, there are houses. The road out front can get busy at times. There is no more hunting or fishing around our place. Life here has changed again.

For over 200 years, the old oak tree was there for the Osage, the settlers, the farmers, and us. It was part of their life and part of ours. It was there as our kids and grandkids grew into adults. As my wife and I have grown old, it was always there. Just like the tree, someday we will be gone too.

I go out and visit the tree’s giant stump sometimes. The other day I was there when something caught my eye near the base of the stump in the fertile soil nourished by the decomposing leaves. There, fostered and protected by the decomposing leaves from the old oak tree, were two oak seedlings growing close together. I wondered what they would see in their lifetime. I wondered if they would grow together and become a big old oak tree.

These tree rings can tell us many stories.

Outdoor Alabama’s Wild Eats Page…Find and Share Recipes

Posted on by David Ranier

By DAVID RAINER

Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources

If your hunting season has gone well and you have plenty of wild game to prepare, you may be looking for new ideas on how to put the best dishes possible on the dinner table. Or you could be a novice hunter getting ready to prepare a meal with wild game for the first time and looking for helpful resources.

With that in mind, the Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources (ADCNR) website, Outdoor Alabama, has just what you’re looking for in the new Wild Eats page at www.outdooralabama.com/WildEats. The page features a list of tasty recipes for a variety of wild game.

Courtesy of the Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources.

“The culmination of a hunting or fishing trip is food,” said Billy Pope, ADCNR’s Communications and Marketing Director. “We wanted to provide a platform on Outdoor Alabama that gives everybody the opportunity to cook wild game with unique recipes and a place for everybody to share their recipes.

“We’re asking people to submit their unique recipes for wild game and fish. We’ve already had submissions for stir-fried duck and collard green soup with venison.”

Pope also said ADCNR realizes many late-onset hunters are pursuing wild game with a different mindset from who grew up in a hunting culture.

“People being introduced to hunting or wanting to learn to hunt are doing it for a different reason,” he said. “They want to harvest their own meat, so they know where it comes from. They want sustainable, healthy protein for their families.

“More and more people are interested in wild table fare, which has made learning to hunt a priority. ADCNR’s Adult Mentored Hunting Program has been able to fill the void and introduce new hunters to the art of field-dressing and butchering wild game.”

Justin Grider, ADCNR’s Wildlife and Freshwater Fisheries Division R3 Coordinator, said the process of placing tasty wild game dishes on the dinner table starts well before the hunt.

“Before it’s time to hunt, you need to become proficient with whatever firearm or bow you’re using,” Grider said. “You want to make sure it is shooting where you’re aiming so you can make a good, clean, quick kill. You owe that to the animal as a hunter to make that as quick and painless as possible. When you are proficient with the firearm or bow, it leads to a better end-product when it comes to putting it on the dinner table.”

When the hunter makes a quality shot, it leads to a quick recovery of the animal, and the processing of the animal can proceed without delay.

“The quicker you can get those internal organs and entrails out of that animal, especially deer, and get that body cavity cooled down, the better,” Grider said. “You’re fighting three things – heat, moisture, and dirt. You’re trying to avoid all three.

“Most days in Alabama are relatively warm, so if you don’t have access to a skinning shed, grab a couple of bags of ice from the nearest gas station and throw it into the cavity, so it starts to cool down that body cavity. Make sure you get the ice between the hip joints. There’s a lot of heat down there. When you get that cooled down, it will delay any bacteria growth and meat spoilage.”

Grider said when you’re able to get the animal field-dressed in a reasonable amount of time, it allows you to move to the next step in providing that quality wild game for the family.

“I like to let my deer age for seven days,” he said. “If you have access to a walk-in cooler, you can let it hang and allow that deer to go through rigor mortis. That whole product will start to break down and become more tender. If you don’t have a walk-in cooler, which most of us don’t, you can quarter the deer and age that animal in a 55-quart cooler.”

The key to using an ice chest/cooler is to keep the meat elevated above the ice by using some type of rack or baking sheet to keep the meat from coming in contact with any water from the melting ice. Refresh the ice often to maintain the proper temperature.

“That will accomplish the same result as if you had used a walk-in cooler,” Grider said. “That’s going to lead to your best-tasting product. Any time you can age that meat for seven days, that’s the magic number.”

After the aging process is complete, Grider starts with the hind quarters. He debones the quarters and separates the muscle groups. He trims as much of the connective tissue as possible and decides whether to use the meat for roasts, steaks, jerky or ground venison.

“I start from the back of the animal and work my way forward, all the way up to the neck,” he said. “I save that neck roast for slow cooking to break down the connective tissue and make it really tender. Of course, it depends on your needs. Later in the season, after you’ve got some steaks and roasts set aside, you may focus on grinding the whole thing, so you have plenty of ground meat for the year.”

Grider removes all the venison fat, which can cause the meat to have a gamey taste. Instead, he heads to a butcher shop or grocery store and procures beef or pork fat to mix with the venison for grinding. He tries to get the ratio of venison to fat to around 85-15 or 80-20.

“You can call the day before you plan to grind the meat and ask them to set aside 10 to 15 pounds of fat,” he said. “Venison is so lean, you need to put in a little fat. I’ve seen people use bacon ends, or you can buy a chuck roast and grind that in.”

If your hunt ends in a difficult recovery, Grider says hunting conditions will dictate whether the meat is salvageable.

“If the temperature is above 45 degrees, which is pretty common for most of the hunting season in Alabama, and the deer is out in the field for 6, 8, or 12 hours, be cautious about that end product,” he said. “Bacteria grows so fast. Rancid meat has a distinct odor and color. Use your eyes and nose to make the best judgment.”

When the hunt goes well, and the deer is processed correctly, it’s time to dine on some delicious wild game. One of Grider’s favorite preparations is venison burger, and he depends on the Maillard reaction to help him serve the best dish. The Maillard reaction is a chemical reaction that occurs when browning meat. After that reaction has occurred, the meat won’t stick to the cooking surface.

“When I’m cooking burgers or Korean beef on a grill or cast iron, I’m cooking it so that it gets a crisp, nice brown edge to it,” he said. “That’s the Maillard reaction, and it gives it a better taste. I see people browning meat, and they put it in the pan long enough for it to turn brown. If they leave it in just a little longer and continue to stir it, it gets a nice crispy edge from the Maillard reaction and the breakdown of the sugars. It changes the flavor profile for the better.

“A good way to check on the grill is if you try to flip the burger and it’s stuck to the grill, the Maillard reaction hasn’t happened. If you wait a little longer, it will unstick from the grill, and you can flip it easily.”

Grider said the worst mistake consumers of venison can make is to overcook it. If you’re not going the slow and low route with plenty of liquid, don’t go past medium rare.

“If you cook venison burgers hot and fast on the grill or flattop about 2 minutes on each side, that will leave you with a medium rare burger, which, in my opinion, is the best,” he said. “With a backstrap or inner loins, and you grill it hot and fast, you get a really crispy, tasty outside with a medium rare center. If you cook a burger or loin too long, it gets dry and tough. A well-done venison burger is not palatable.

“If you’re cooking shanks or neck roast, you want to cook it long and slow and keep it in some type of braising liquid.”

When it comes to waterfowl, Grider uses the same techniques that he does for venison, with one exception. He does not trim the fat on waterfowl.

“The only thing is I may go even a little rarer on waterfowl,” he said. “A lot of people just cut the breast out, and you can be missing a great opportunity with the skin and fat. If you’re lucky enough to harvest a duck with a good layer of fat, like early-season teal or wood ducks in a cypress brake, you leave the skin on and add a ton of flavor. You can also pluck the duck and cook the thigh and leg meat, which is delicious.”

Even with small game, Grider prefers to age the meat before he prepares it. He removes the entrails from small game and waterfowl and ages them in the refrigerator.

“Not to say you can’t cook it right out of the woods, but I find that if you age it to break down the protein, it makes for really tasty wild game,” he said.

The Christmas Day Deer

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
The old man sat alone in a treestand on Christmas morning. James Monteleone photo

By Larry Whiteley

It was Christmas Eve Day. Christmas trees and decorations were in every room of the old house. Outside too. Torn wrapping paper was everywhere. It had been a good day.

 The old couple stood at the door hugging their kids, grandkids, daughters-in-law, granddaughter-in-law, and future grandson-in-law as they were leaving. They would all be busy on Christmas Day. The old couple was happy to have spent Christmas Eve with them. They all did remember to wish the older man a happy birthday. Just in case they got busy and forgot to call him on Christmas Day.

 The old couple watched them out the window as they all got into their cars and headed off to their busy lives. Both had tears in their eyes. They talked for a while about Christmas memories from the many years of their marriage. Then, they started cleaning up all the messes and getting ready to go to the Christmas Eve service at their church.

 On the way home from church, the old man asked his wife what they were doing on Christmas Day. She said she planned to start packing away all the Christmas decorations she had been putting up around the house over the last month. He said, “The alternative deer season started today, so I think I will get my old muzzle loader rifle out and go deer hunting. It will be cold, but I don’t care. I am going anyway.”

 His wife wanted to talk him out of it, but she knew he needed this time alone with his thoughts. She told him to be safe, have a good time, and supper would be ready when he got home. Christmas morning, he kissed her as she slept and whispered he loved her. He paused at the door to look back at her sleeping peacefully, then looked up and thanked God for her.

 The old man sat alone in a treestand on Christmas morning. There was no one else out hunting on Christmas Day. They would soon be opening Christmas presents. He thought this was a great way to celebrate his birthday and the birthday of Jesus. His mind took him back to his grandpa and grandma’s old farm. He was born there 76 years ago. He also thought about how much the world has changed since then. He thought about how many of his friends and family were no longer here.

He also thought about the times he messed up and made mistakes in his life. He wished they had never happened, wished he could take all of them back. He knew he could not. He knew God had forgiven him. He believed God gave him the gifts of writing stories and speaking to help others find Him too. God had changed him. He can change anybody.

 Sunlight was beginning to filter through the trees. The frosted field spread out before him and sparkled like tiny diamonds. Fog rose from the creek on the other side. He could hear the sound of flowing water.

 He held the old muzzleloader rifle in his lap. He loved that old gun. It was a 50-caliber Hawken like the mountain men of long ago had used. He loved reading about that era of life in America and watching every mountain man movie ever made. “Jeremiah Johnson” was his favorite. He figured he had watched it at least fifty times or more. He often daydreamed about living back then. To have hunted and trapped and roamed the Rocky Mountains.

 As he waited silently in the darkness, he thought about all the years he had been a deer hunter. Memories of deer hunting with sons and grandkids flooded his mind. Now, they are grown and gone. Busy with their own lives and hunting in other states. It is just him, alone in a treestand with his muzzleloader. “Is this the last time I will be a deer hunter,” he thought. He wipes away a tear.

A fox crosses the field, then stops to scratch himself. The old man has seen and heard these many times over many years. James Monteleone photo
The sun rises over the top of the trees, crows talk to each other, and birds flitter from limb to limb. James Monteleone photo

  The sun rises over the top of the trees, crows talk to each other, birds flitter from limb to limb, and squirrels look for acorns. A fox crosses the field, then stops to scratch himself. The old man has seen and heard these many times over many years. He still loves all of it.

 Getting a deer was always just a bonus to him. At times he needed to get one to help feed his family. Being out in God’s great outdoors was most important. It was all the memories he made with family, friends, and alone in the deer woods.

The old buck crossed the cold creek, then stopped at the edge of the woods. His eyes scan the field. He sniffed the air for danger. He was a wise old buck and had done this before. He had spent lots of years wandering this land. He had watched many of his family grow up here and die here. He turned his head to lick some scars, then slowly started walking into the field, stopping at times to look and smell.

 Out of the corner of his eye, the old man saw movement. Slowly he raised his binoculars and brought the deer into view. It was a big buck. Old like him. A lot of gray around his muzzle. Broken antler tips, a little slump to his back, and a limp in his walk. He was alone now too.

 The old man put down his binoculars. The old muzzleloader stock now rested against his shoulder. He found the old buck in the iron sights and cocked the side hammer back. The old deer heard the click and saw movement. He knew someone was in the tree. He could have raised his tail and fled but did not. He slowly walked through the field. The old man and an old deer on Christmas Day.

Out of the corner of his eye, the old man saw movement. Slowly he raised his binoculars and brought the deer into view. It was a big buck. James Monteleone photo

 After looking through the sights for several minutes at where he planned to shoot, the old man lowered the hammer back down and put the gun back in his lap. The old man and the old buck just looked at each other for a while. The old deer finally put his head down and kept walking. He was waiting for the old man to shoot, but the shot never came. He stopped several times to look at the old man in the tree. Finally, he walked into the woods, never to return to the field. The old man turned his eyes toward heaven and thanked God for all the deer hunting memories and the old deer on a special Christmas Day.

 He lowered his rifle to the ground and climbed down from the tree. He paused to look around the valley he had hunted so many times over many years and then walked toward his truck. It was his last deer hunt. It was his last Christmas Day.

Pete’s Stories – Frog’s Croaking, Owls Hooting & Crickets Chirping

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
US Army Tec 5, Gaylord “Pete” Dye, went home to heaven at 98 years young, but he left all of us with life lessons.

By Larry Whiteley

I used to see Pete at church almost every Sunday.  He would be on a bench in the main hallway, telling stories to anyone who would listen.  He knew that I wrote articles for magazines and newspapers about the outdoors.  When he saw me, he always wanted me to come over so he could tell me his fish stories.

Pete would start with, “It was midnight on a hot summer day.  The moon was full, bats are diving in the night sky, and fog shrouds the lake.  I was out fishing by myself in an old wooden boat.  The night was filled with sounds.  Crickets chirping, owls hooting and frogs croaking.  So I take my old fishing rod and throw a top-water bait toward some bushes next to a log.  I let it settle, then start reeling.  It gurgles and wiggles back toward me. Suddenly, a bass, a monster bass, attacks my bait!  It rises from the water with the plug hanging in its jaw.”

Pete would say” I just unhooked that bass and put it back in the water to watch it swim away.” Forrest Fisher photo

Pete always acted out his fight with the bass.  I loved the expressions on his face while he told his story.  Pete would lean back on the bench reeling it in on his imaginary fishing rod.  He would always have a grimace across his face as he turned the reel handle.  His eyes would get big as he described the fish pulling fishing line from his reel.

Sometimes Pete would add to the story with moans about backlashes in his braided line.  He would frown and tell me it required valuable time to untangle.  Then he would smile and proudly tell me that he still got that fish into the boat.  Then he would say, “I unhooked that bass and put it back in the water to watch it swim away.”

Sometimes, he would tell me another story.  It was about another big bass he caught and released, but not on purpose.  “It almost took the rod right out of my hand,” he would say. “When it was close to the boat, it shook loose from the hooks.  I watched it disappear into the darkness of the water.” Of course, like most fishermen, the bass also got bigger each time I heard his story.  Sometimes the bass was so big it was pulling his small wooden boat around.  I listened each time as I had never heard Pete’s fish stories.

Pete is a 98-year-old World War II veteran.  One of “The Greatest Generation.”  He was a U.S. Army paratrooper.  In the European Theater Campaign, he served under General George Patton.  He fought in the Battle of the Bulge and the Battle of Bastogne.  He was also part of the Rhine River Jump.  It is hard to imagine what Pete and all those other men went through fighting for our country.

His daughter Cora told me she flew with her Dad on one of the first Honor Flights for veterans.  Honor Flights are all-expenses-paid trips to the war memorials in Washington, D.C. These flights allow veterans to share this momentous trip with other veterans, remember friends and comrades lost, and share their stories and experiences.

As the plane prepared to land, Cora asked her Dad what it was like back during the war when he was getting ready to land and go into battle.  Pete looked at her and said,  “I don’t know.  I always got on a plane, but I never landed on one.  I was always jumping out of them.”

On Veteran’s Day at church, Pete would bring in a big glass-covered shadow box with all his medals from World War II for all of us to see.  There are many.  He always stood with pride, as all veterans would stand so that we could honor them.  I often saw tears in his eyes as Pete faced the flag with everyone, put his hand over his heart, and we all sang God Bless America.

Up until this year, Pete lived by himself and cooked his meals.  He drove himself to go grocery shopping, other errands, and church every Sunday.  Pete even loved to go out dancing.  He had more energy than most men half his age.  Then cancer reared its ugly head.

Pete is tough.  He is fighting this battle too.  He knows where he is going when his time comes.  I am sure there will be a lot of family and military buddies that will be glad to see him again.  I bet they will get to hear Pete’s fish stories too.

I visited Pete with a friend from our church, Dan Bill, at the home Pete built many years ago.  His daughter Cora seated us in the living room and went to tell Pete we were there.  Pictures of his wife, four children, 10 grandchildren, 25 great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren were on every wall.  So were pictures of a younger Pete in his army uniform.  The shadow box with all his medals was there too.

I was expecting to see him in bed.  Instead, Pete slowly walked into the room with support from his cane and sat in his favorite chair.  He was glad to see us, but I could tell he was tired and in pain.  We didn’t hear any fish stories that day, but we did hear several war stories.

Every year, we lose more men and women who sacrificed so much for us during WWII.  Less than 30,000 of the 16 million men and women who fought in World War II are still alive.  There won’t be any of them left in a few more years.  Only twenty percent of the 6.8 million men and women who fought in Korea are still alive today.  Veterans like me from the Vietnam era are in their 70s now.  Veterans lucky enough to return home from the Gulf War, Iraq, and Afghanistan came home with scars.  Not just on their bodies but in their minds.

Our kids and grandkids need to hear the stories about these men and women.  When we hear our national anthem, those that kneel need to listen to their stories.  Those who protest and disrespect our flag need to listen to their stories.  Our politicians need to listen to their stories.  Then they need to do everything possible for these men and women.

Stories told among friends are the best. Larry Whiteley (L), Gaylord “Pete” Dye (M), Dan Bill (R)

We all need to take the time to thank our military men and women who served our country or are serving now.  Not just on Veteran’s Day each year.  We need to do it every time we have the opportunity.  If you see a veteran wearing their branch of a military service cap, thank them in some way.  That’s the least we can do for all they did and are doing for each of us.

Every Sunday, when I come in the front door of our church, I still look over at the bench where Pete sat.  I see him in my mind’s eye telling me fish stories.  As I stand before everyone to give the weekly church announcements, I look to where Pete was always sitting a few rows to my left from the front.  I wish he could still be there proudly wearing his World War II Veteran cap.  I miss hearing Pete’s stories. Everyone will.

Special Note: Pete (US Army Tec 5, Gaylord Dye, by real name) went home to heaven last week. I bet he is up there telling stories.

 

 

“Age-Old” Goldfish Lures outsmart “Modern Day” fish!  Win Some FREE! See the story.

Posted on by Dave Barus
The Saltwater Goldfish has a 1/2 to 1-1/4 ounce weight choice and comes with a tough saltwater hook to match. Cast it, Troll it, Jig it. Deadly on a moving tide over emerging grass beds and harbor entrance sand bars for Pompano and Speckled Trout. 

By Dave Barus

Some of the best lures made for fishing were invented long ago and were made in America, too.  In 1952, in a small town near Eliot, Maine, a prototype spoon lure known as Stuart’s Goldfish hit the angler market big time, selling nearly one-million lures a year way back then.  Inventor Al Stuart renamed his flagship lure, Al’s Goldfish, and the company became Al’s Goldfish Lure Company in 1954.  Along the way, other Al Stuart lures became angler-famous, including the “Forty-Niner” and the “Helgy.”

The Forty Niner is a good casting lure and doubles as a trolling lure. The flatfish-style head creates vibration and flutter as the flat face helps it dive. Check out the videos posted Al’s Goldfish website product page of how this lure swims, and you’ll see why fish strike.

Using Al’s Goldfish lures in a recent fishing contest on Lake Tanneycomo in Branson, MO., I was lucky enough to win the event. I was fishing between two seasoned pro’s, Bass pro-Jimmy Zaleski from Parsons, KS., and Charter  Captain Mike Schoonveld from Lake Michigan. Proof positive once more time that these traditional lures are fish killers.

All of them are still Made-in-America!  Present-day owners Jeff and Mandy DeBuigne are admittedly “fish-heads” and want to share some of the famous good fortunes of catching fish with their fishing followers and customers.  They are celebrating the 70th anniversary of Al’s Goldfish Lure with a freebie contest open to everyone.

Al’s Goldfish Winter Promo Giveaway – To enter, simply go to Al’s Goldfish Lure Company Facebook page and click on the promotion or visit Al’s Goldfish Lure Company Giveaway.  When prompted, fill in your name and email address, and you are entered.  One entry per person.  Do it today!  All entries must be completed by midnight on December 15, 2022.  When prompted to join the Outdoor News America mailing list, additional entries can be made.  The lucky winner will be randomly drawn and notified via email.  Many of Al’s Goldfish products and lures are included in the prize package.

The “Classic” Goldfish lures represent a core selection of colors and patterns that are most popular with anglers.

Today the company still makes and markets the original Al’s Goldfish and much more.  These include tried and tested fish-catching lures, ice-fishing jigs, Sebago trolling rigs, bottom jigging rigs, and accessories.  Treble hook bonnets and other lure accessories were added to the company’s list of American-made products.  In 2015 the line was expanded to include the Saltwater Goldfish series.  For a complete look at Al’s Goldfish Lure Company’s entire line, visit https://www.alsgoldfish.com/ or call them at 413-543-1524.

Al’s Goldfish Lure Company PRIZE PACKAGE

The company’s American-Made core values will keep it strong and vital for this and the next generation of anglers.  Mandy DeBuigne says, “We value Jesus for our blessings and the example of unconditional love.  We value our veterans and active duty service members for our freedom and their sacrifice.  We value our friends and customers of all backgrounds, races, orientations, and abilities – we don’t care what you look like, where you came from, what your gender is, who you love, or what you can/can’t do – what matters is: Do you like to fish?  We are committed to making our products right here in the USA, which keeps Americans in our supply chain employed.  And we value an honest sale.  If your purchase fails beyond the normal wear and tear that happens to a product you are literally throwing as far away from yourself as it will go – to fish, let us know.  We will make it right.”

For more information on Al’s Goldfish Lure Company, visit www.alsgoldfish.com.

Al’s Goldfish Lure Company PRIZE PACKAGE – Al’s Goldfish Lure Company has teamed up with Outdoor News America and Wolf Premium Oils to put an excellent fishing package together for anyone that likes to wet a line.  This giveaway package includes Al’s ice jigs, a trolling rig, a bag of hook bonnets, Kenny Kieser’s Christmas Kit filled with Al’s top freshwater spoons, Al’s Goldfish top Saltwater Series Goldfish lures, Al’s Goldfish Limited Edition 70th Anniversary Buck fillet knife, and a bottle of Wolf Premium Oil.  All combined, this “Al’s Goldfish Lure Company Winter Promo Giveaway” has a suggested retail value exceeding $250.

How to Choose the Perfect Fly Rod

Posted on by Lacy Jo Jumper
By Lacy Jo Jumper

A thoughtfully-selected fly rod can make or break the on-the-water experience, and knowing which type you need isn’t always as straightforward as it seems. Fly rods vary in weight, length, and action, and when it comes to choosing the right fly fishing rod, it all boils down to where you are fishing and the type of fish you’re targeting. So, which fly rod is perfect for you? Whether you’re a beginner or a seasoned fly fisherman, Wild Water Fly Fishing will help you explore the different types of fly fishing rods that are available and can provide everything you need to know for a successful day on the water.

Fly fishing is a sport of personal preference and style. Choose a versatile fly rod that suits the environment – both the water and its surroundings – that you’ll fish the most. Don’t be surprised if a rod serves you well one day and not the next, as locations and fishing conditions change. When selecting a fly rod, it is important to take line weight, rod length, and rod action into consideration. These variables are the distinguishing factors among fly rods, and next, we’ll explore each of these variables in-depth.

Line Weight

First things first: What are you hoping to catch? The size of the fish, as well as the type of water body it inhabits, will determine the weight of your fly rod. As a general rule of thumb: The larger the fish and the rougher the water, the heavier the line should be.

If you’re fishing for large trout or smallmouth bass, you’ll most likely find yourself wading and fishing in small to medium-sized rivers, streams, and potentially lakes. Targeting these types of fish will require a 7 or 8-weight fly rod. When up against largemouth bass, carp, or salmon in lakes, large rivers, open freshwater, or inshore saltwater, you’ll need to up the ante as far as fly rod length and line weight are concerned, in which case you’ll want a 10-weight line.

Lighter rods lend better to creeks, small rivers, and gentler lakes. The higher the river or lake intensity, the heavier your rod should be. Saltwater species also tend to be stronger and faster than freshwater fish. They fight longer, requiring a heavier line weight and a heavier fly rod that can duke it out with these fish.

Rod Length

Fly fishing rods can range from very short (around 6 feet) to very long (12 to 14 feet.) There are advantages and disadvantages to each. A long rod provides extra reach for roll casting and covering more water. They’re also better for mending, drifting, steering, and lifting fish through long drifts. They’re ideal for medium-sized rivers and lakes. Long rods require extra space for casting. If there are a lot of trees, brush, or other obstacles, a shorter rod may work better. Short rods are best when you’re targeting smaller fish or fishing in smaller streams. They’re also great for children to use as they learn. As a child develops their skills and grows taller in height, they can eventually work their way up to a longer rod. If you’re looking for a middle-of-the-road rod or a rod that is highly recommended, start with a 9-foot rod.

Rod Action

Now that we’ve discussed rod length and line weight, next we’ll explore the different kinds of rod action. Rod action refers to a rod’s ability to bend under pressure and revert back to its natural shape. The tip section of any rod will always have the most flex. Anglers with more advanced casting skills can cast further and in windier conditions with a fast-action rod. These rods typically bend ½ or ⅔ towards the tip. Fast-action rods also have the stiffness required to forcefully land heavier fish.

Wild Water recommends starting with a medium-fast action fly rod to help learn casting. This rod isn’t too soft or fast and will still be useful and give great casting performance once you learn fly fishing. We also recommend a 9-foot rod unless you have a specific type of fly fishing you want to do. A medium-fast action rod will bend deeply to half its length with minimal line in use. This type of rod is universally suitable for most fly fishing methods.

Are You Ready to Fly Fish?

When choosing the right fly fishing rod, keep in mind that you won’t use that same fly rod for the entirety of your career.

Fly anglers will build their fly rod collections over time. It’s common to go between rods, depending on where you’re fishing, what you’re targeting, and how you’re casting, on any given day or time of year. As you become more confident and experienced, your preferences will most likely change as you try different rod lengths, actions, and line weights.

For more fly fishing tips, stay tuned to Wild Water Fly Fishing’s blog or check out our learning pages!

About Wild Water Fly Fishing – Wild Water Fly Fishing represents a dedication to bringing friends and family together by providing everything you’ll need to gear up for a trip to the lake. If you’re a parent or grandparent wanting to nurture a kid’s interest in fly fishing, Wild Water provides the best tools to make your fly fishing trip an unforgettable experience. Wild Water Fly Fishing is the only company to focus exclusively on affordable, easy-to-use fly fishing starter packages for all species of fish. Learn more about Wild Water Fishing by visiting us at https://www.wildwaterflyfishing.com/.

Saying Grace, a Moment for Special Thanks

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
A sunrise turkey hunt can offer unforgettable moments. 

By Larry Whiteley

When I was growing up on the farm, saying grace was something we did before a meal.  Our food back then came from my grandmother’s garden or wild plants around the farm.  She gathered eggs from the chickens she raised.  On special occasions, she would kill one and fry it up.  Grandpa raised hogs and butchered them himself.  He cured the meat in a smokehouse and milked the cows by hand.  Almost everything for every meal came from that old farm.  It was important to thank God for what He had provided us.

Today when our family gathers for Thanksgiving and Christmas meals, one of us says grace as we all hold hands and bow our heads.  We don’t always do that at other meals when we are all together.

Saying grace before meals, among other things, is a way to remember God, not our credit card, provided the meal.  Even if you are not a believer, saying grace recognizes the people whose hard work brought food to your holiday table, daily meals at home or eating out: farmers, grocery store clerks, friends, relatives or restaurant chefs.  If you are a non-believer, I would be happy to tell you about a true story that can change your life.

Say grace before a meal. It is a moment of special recollection for me.

Several times I have been asked to say grace at luncheon meetings, banquets, or church.  As a believer, it is an honor to do that.  I always hope that what I say will touch the hearts of those listening and get their eyes on God instead of the depressing evening news or what they are seeing or reading on their smartphones.

I will admit that I don’t say grace before every meal.  At home, it’s just my wife and me.  We usually don’t.  When I go through McDonald’s for a biscuit sandwich to eat on my way fishing, I don’t.  When I stop by Arby’s for a roast beef sandwich after a morning hunt, I don’t.  I should be thanking God before every meal, but I don’t, even though I should.  I don’t know anyone that does.

It is much easier to say grace over the game I have harvested or fish I have caught and prepared for a meal.  Maybe that’s because I have a close connection to them, as grandma and grandpa had on that old farm.  It is hard to have that feeling with pizza out of a box, roasted chicken in a plastic container, a hamburger and fries in a sack, or store-bought groceries.

When grilling a steak from a deer, I think about that morning in the deer woods.  I remember the beautiful sunrise peeking up over the hill.  I remember the frosted field, the crows calling, the birds fluttering through the trees, the squirrels running around looking for nuts, and the bobcat walking by.

I remember when that deer first appeared.  The deer never even knew I was there in the tree.  I remember kneeling beside it, laying my hand on it, and thanking the deer for giving its life to feed my family.  I remember looking up and thanking God for my time in his creation.  I remember field-dressing it and thinking this deer would feed the crows, turkey vultures, coyotes, raccoons, opossums, and other animals.  When I eat any part of that deer, I say grace.

Honor the game you hunt. The connection between the hunter and the game is never closed.

If I am cooking a wild turkey breast in my smoker, my mind travels back to a spring morning and another beautiful sunrise.  Birds were singing while crows were talking to each other as always.  Everything was green, and wildflowers were blooming everywhere.  I heard turkey wings flapping when they flew down from their roost.  My hen decoys were poised and ready in front of my hiding place.  My Jake decoy was near the hens and close enough to make a gobbler want to come in and kick his butt for trying to mess with his ladies.

A gobble came from over the slight rise to my left.  I gave a soft purr with the mouth call I hoped would say to him, “Come on in.  I am ready for you.”

He answered me with a booming gobble.  My heart rate increased dramatically.  I never made another call because he quickly appeared over the rise.  He fanned his tail feathers and puffed out his chest.  It was his way of saying, “Look how handsome I am.”

Then he saw the Jake decoy.  He immediately went over and attacked it knocking it to the ground.  The gobbler stood there over the battered fake Jake and strutted out for the ladies again.  When he came out of his strutting display, my shotgun boomed.  He flopped around for a minute or two.  The hens disappeared over the rise.  It took one gobble, two struts, and a gobbler was on the ground.  It is not always that easy, believe me.

I smooth its bronze feathers in the early morning sun and thank it for feeding my family.  The gobblers fan, beard, and spurs hang on my wall with others.  The smoked turkey breast is another reminder of a great day in the turkey woods.  There was no hesitation in saying grace when I sat down to eat it or the morel mushrooms I found that day.

I always try to remember to say grace before a camp meal, before eating the wild game or fish prepared at home for a meal.

It is the same with fish I catch.  I don’t lay my hand on them and thank them for giving their life to feed my family like I do turkey and deer.  But when I fry, grill, or smoke the fish I caught, I remember when I caught them.  I see the sun or the moon reflecting on the water.  I see the eagle sitting in a tree.  I see the deer at the water’s edge.  I hear the water lapping against the boat or rippling down the stream.  I hear my lure hit the water.

When I am out on a camping trip, I feel close to God.  My meal may not be fish or game, but I try to say grace over my camp meal if it’s just a hot dog grilled on a stick.  As I sit around the campfire, watching the flames flicker and dance with nature all around me, I look up and say thank you.

When I take the life of a game animal or fish, I don’t take that lightly.  I remind myself it is through the gifts He gave me to be a hunter and a fisherman that I was able to take the game or catch the fish.  I will always be thankful to God for the great outdoors He created for me to enjoy my camping, hunting and fishing.  I will always try to remember to say grace before a camp meal and before I enjoy eating the wild game or fish that I have prepared at home for a meal.  Saying grace is the least I can do for all God has done for me.

 

Must-Have Tools For Every Deer Hunter

Posted on by Kristine Ostertag

By: Kristine Ostertag

Your alarm goes off, you step outside onto the frosty ground, feel the cool morning breeze on your face, and gaze up at the stars in the sky. The smell of fall is in the air, and you are gearing up to head out to your favorite deer stand. You start your trek into the woods, adrenaline pumping, surrounded by darkness and the sounds of animals in the distance. You tiptoe your way through the crunchy leaves, hoping not to bump anything, and FINALLY, you arrive at your stand. You climb the tree, get situated, knock an arrow, and sit in the peaceful silence of the woods, waiting for the sun to rise. You have been waiting for this moment all summer, and it’s finally here.

Every fall, millions of people head out into the woods to chase whitetails. You sit around telling stories, laughing and joking about the one that got away. A lot of work is involved in hunting, and having the right tools for hanging deer stands, clearing trails, and processing your harvest will make things a little less stressful. Here are some tools that I have found helpful and recommend everyone have.

Folding Limb Saw

Trying to trim brush and clear shooting lanes with a dull, cheap saw is very frustrating and usually ends with me swearing and throwing it. However, I prefer to work smarter, not harder, so I recommend the Smith’s Folding Limb Saw. It has an aggressive tooth pattern and comes with a built-in tooth sharpener. So you can sharpen it while out in the woods. In addition, it has an 8-inch blade that works fantastic for medium-sized branches and limbs. Smith’s Folding Limb Saw MSRP: $21.99

Edgesport Gut Hook Combo Kit

After the adrenaline wears off and you’ve tracked down your deer, it’s time to get to work gutting your deer. The gut hook is designed to split the skin of the deer without cutting into the meat or nicking the guts, which usually leaves an unpleasant smell. Some people prefer not to use the gut hook and simply use the regular blade. I like this kit because it comes with a 4-inch folding lock blade knife and a sharpener. It also comes with a knife case that goes on your belt, so you always have it handy. It’s a great go-to hunting kit for any hunter. Having a knife with you is always essential when you are out in the woods or climbing mountains, as you never know when you might need one. Smith’s Edgesport Gut Hook Combo Kit MSRP: $59.99

EdgeSport Field Dressing Kit + Jiffy PRO

If you want to make quick work of processing your deer, I highly suggest you invest in the Smith’s EdgeSport Field Dressing Kit+ Jiffy PRO. It comes with everything you will need. It comes with a skinning knife, two boning knives, and a sharpener. If you are anything like my family, we process multiple deer a season, and having reliable knives is vital. Skinning a deer can be daunting with a dull knife, but Smith’s skinning knife is designed to make this process easy. It is also not uncommon to sharpen your blade a couple of times during the skinning process, which is why you must have a sharpener nearby. Once your deer is quartered, you have to get the meat off the bone, which is where the boning knives are ideal. They are long, thin, flexible blades designed to run along the bone and around tight places. Stiff blades are not suitable for processing your game. Smith’s EdgeSport Field Dressing Kit + Jiffy PRO MSRP: $84.99

Edge Stick Knife and Broadhead Sharpener 

This is a fantastic tool to have with you when hunting in the backcountry or deep in the Northwoods. It sharpens knives and broadheads and has multiple sharpening surfaces for different needs. The carbide blades are used for quick sharpening, and the diamond stone is used for final edge honing. Diamond stone can be used with or without lubricant and does not wear down like a natural stone. You never want to be stuck miles from camp or lost in the woods without a sharp knife. Always go prepared! Smith’s Edge Stick Knife and Broadhead Sharpener MSRP: $24.99

You can purchase many tools, but these are some of my favorites. These tools are reliable and of excellent quality. I hope this helps you decide what you need for your hunting season.

 

Touch, See and Feel Undersea Life in Branson

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
Lionfish get their name from their long, colorful fin rays that resemble a lion’s mane.

By Forrest Fisher

The mountain darkness was so very welcoming during an early rise and shine morning to go fishing in Branson, Mo.  As I sipped a hot cup of coffee, the daybreak air was fresh with a sweet smell of morning dew. It was revitalizing. We drove toward Branson in the nightfall, and as we turned the corner to Main Street, we discovered the highway strip was alive with lights and displays. It was dazzling. One lighting array that caught my eye was a giant octopus. It was large enough to surround the building below it. The octopus appeared alive and moving with glimmering blue, green, purple and silver flickering reflections of backlit lights. It is a spectacular light display.

My friend and driver, Jim Zaleski, was familiar with Branson and mentioned that it has modernized and grown in the last five years. “This giant octopus marks the entryway to the new Aquarium-at-the-Boardwalk. If you have not visited that place, you should go there before you head home. It’s all saltwater ocean life oriented and cool, especially for big kids like you.” Our trips are filled with a bit of bantering.

Later that day, I mentioned the Aquarium to my bride of 53 years – she wanted to visit immediately, as Rose is a renowned venue explorer. I hurried through the shower, and away we went! After entry, the mesmerizing venue provides a walking journey of the undersea ocean world. It all starts with a short, virtual, 3D submarine adventure ride to the bottom of the sea. We sat in a large armchair with a safety belt. All hooked up; we met Aquarius the octopus and Finn the puffer fish as the sub took us to a remote and notably secret ocean location observatory. As we stepped off the submarine, Finn mentioned, “We are about to learn more about the oceans, fish, sea creatures, and the importance of weeds and kelp. Watch your step.”

One thing about the incredible walk-through exhibits, you can see the tops and bottoms of the many finny critters of the sea. My better half discovered that fish and sharks have peering eye expressions and fishy smiles. 

Our walking journey in the Aquarium continued, and we discovered that fish and sharks have peering eye expressions and fishy smiles…we never knew about those before. It provided more than one ah-hah moment for me. The nose-to-nose views of many colorful fish species and amazing sea creatures, including seahorses, jellyfish, octopus and eels, provided captivating and thought-stimulating flashes for a new voyage and realization of sea life. We both felt lifted to a new level of respect for sea life and conservation.

The Aquarium building is large and comfortable at just under 50,000 square feet. The displays deliver a measure of viewable magic that you are free to capture if you bring a camera, which is allowed, to relive these moments.

One thing about the incredible walk-through exhibits, you can see the tops and bottoms of the many finny critters of the sea. You stand above them as they swim below you in places, and they swim above you in areas. You look straight up to see them in other places. The 360-degree walk-around displays in the jellyfish infinity room, the fantastic sting rays tank, and the coral reef display provide new views of undersea life.

The Aquarium offers more than 7,200 critters – many forms of sea life, fish, animals, and creatures to view. Impressive….and astonishing.

Kids and adults alike can enjoy bonus moments of discovery with interactive fun at the touch pool. We were able to gain up-close and personal physical contact with a variety of friendly sea creatures. The touchy-feely sensation is a discovery moment for everyone.

With each display, the Aquarium focuses on fun with a wide variety of interactive and entertaining activities – there are more than 7,200 critters, forms of sea life, fish, animals, and creatures in the building. Kids may help make discoveries to help the fishes of the sea and people of the world learn much more about life and science. Together.

This is one stop we had o make, and I can still sense the power of learning more about the oceans as we drive home.

#bransonaglow2022

Hit by a Bass Boat traveling 70 mph, Alex Otte SURVIVED – The Story.

Posted on by David Gray
Boating is recreational. Boating is fun. Safe Boating involves a choice, just like a choice to safely drive a vehicle. Boating under the Influence is as dangerous and life-threatening as driving a car Under the Influence.

By David Gray

Alex Otte, a young girl, shares what happened to her.  “On July 2, 2010, I was run over by a drunk driver.  My offender wasn’t driving a car; he was driving a 17-foot bass boat at more than 70 miles per hour.  I was sitting across the narrow lake from my mom and brother, and the boat was headed toward them when he banked it to the left and never straightened up.  The boat hit me, going more than 60 miles per hour and threw me off the Jet Ski.  I landed face down in the water, and the boat landed on top of my body before it sunk.  I sustained severe, life-threatening, and lifelong injuries from head to toe, including a severe traumatic brain injury.  I was classified with shaken-baby syndrome, having a shattered jaw, broken neck, broken collarbone, lacerated liver, and bilateral shattered femurs.  I incurred the loss of my right leg below the knee.”

On July 2, 2010, medics lifted Alex into a Life-Flight helicopter.  They told her parents that their 13-year-old beautiful young daughter might not live long enough to make it to the hospital.  But Alex did make it to the hospital, remaining in a coma for seven days.

Alex remembers waking up in the hospital with her Dad sitting by the bed.  “Dad would tell me what happened and that she had suffered severe brain injuries.” When she woke up the next time and the next time, her Dad was still sitting by her bed.  He had to tell Alex again and again what had happened.  Each time she could not remember.  Her injured brain could not recall what her Dad had repeated each time Alex woke up.

At 13 years of age, Alex Otte shared time with her creator and doctors for the next seven weeks in the hospital.  The young girl was strong and determined.  The following fall, she returned to school but would not walk into the classroom this time.  She was in a wheelchair.

On July 2, 2010, the woman that little girl would be, was nearly gone.  But the little girl survived to quickly become a strong, articulate, well-focused personality and inspirational leader.

Alex has become the woman she wants to be and has risen to be the President of MADD.  She is devoted to education about a choice you or someone in your family makes when they get ready to operate a boat.

Boating is recreational.  Boating is fun.  Safe Boating involves a choice, just like a choice to safely drive a vehicle.

Boating under the Influence is as dangerous and life-threatening as driving a car Under the Influence.

Alex Ott, a survivor and now the president of MADD, addressed the audience at Lake of the Ozarks in the middle of the country. Alex plans to share her message with all parts of the nation.  

In her speech, Alex states, “Operating a boat while impaired from alcohol or drugs does not result in unintended accidents while enjoying a recreational activity.  Operating a boat while impaired often results in an incident and a deadly crash, causing injuries and death because of a person’s irresponsible choice.”  Operating a boat while impaired is a choice, just like driving a vehicle.

Drinking and boat driving create the same dangers to others as drinking and driving an automobile.

A study of the relationship between the risk of fatality and blood alcohol concentration of recreational boat operators by Peter Mengert, E. Donald Sussman and Robert DiSario (1992) found that with a 0.1 BAC  (Blood Alcohol Content) you are more likely to die in a boat crash than a car crash.  Fishermen know that being out on the water in the sun, wind and waves will cause fatigue.  Combine on-the-water fatigue with alcohol in your system, and you are more likely to cause a severe crash.  Statistics show that you are more likely to NOT SURVIVE a boat crash with a 0.1 Blood Alcohol Content, even as a passenger.

On May 26, 2022, Alex Otte delivered a strong message as President of MADD.  Alex traveled to Lake of the Ozarks, in the middle of Missouri, in the middle of the country to announce and launch the nationwide BUI = DUI boating campaign.  Boating under the influence = Driving under the influence.

Starting at Lake of the Ozarks in the middle of the country, Alex will spread her message in all directions.

Doug Beck (L), Co-Chair of Lake of the Ozarks Water Safety Council, Akles Otte (center), President of Madd, and a USCG Captain all share the message of “No drinking when driving.”

The message is simple.  Do not operate a boat impaired.  Alex does not want anyone in your family to operate a boat while impaired and run over a person causing another family to endure what her family had to endure.

People impaired by alcohol or drugs can cause death and lifelong severe injuries to others.

We asked Ms. Otte, “If you could sit down one-on-one with a person who would NOT drink before driving their car but might also believe that having a couple of drinks before driving a boat is OK – what would you say to them?”

Alex said, “Everyone needs to understand that drinking is irresponsible if you are driving anything, and bad choices can be hazardous to others and themselves.  It is not OK to drink and operate a boat, just like it is not OK to drink and drive a car.”

Things happen fast on the water.  While Boating is fun, it can be dangerous to you, your family, and others if you operate under the influence.”

Life Lessons from the Natural World

Posted on by Bob Holzhei
I learned that when we allow students to have a voice in the classroom about nature, the whole world learns to be a better place. My students learned to help each other. Forrest Fisher photo

By Bob Holzhei

I was fortunate to grow up on a family farm in the 1950s, in the outdoors.  I learned many lessons early in life that shaped my future.

Daily chores included sweeping the grain elevator and shoveling oats, wheat, or navy beans into the “pit” where the grain was transferred upstairs into grain bins for storage.

The first lesson I learned was to work up to my dad’s expectations.  If I fell short, there was no supper provided that evening.  True fact.

Books by the author provide a trail to discovering new, life-changing energy and a path to coaching others in a new role. Forrest Fisher photo

It only took one lesson to teach me.

My father was neither mean nor cruel, simply clear of his expectations.  That lesson would shape my future and lead to my graduation from Michigan State University with a bachelor’s and master’s degree.  I became a teacher.

I student taught at St. Johns High School and was eventually offered a teaching position, retiring following 37 years of service there.

Over those years, I learned there are two kinds of smart: book smart and hands-on smart.

The book smart folks went to college while the hands-on smart folks excelled in various skilled trades.  Both types of “smart” are essential, more now than ever!

I taught two classes of hands-on smart students.  I discovered early as a teacher that one needed to meet each student where they were in life to move them ahead.

Each year after meeting a new class, the students would learn to call me “Uncle Bob.” A student asked me, “Hey, Uncle Bob, can we have a wild game after-school dinner feast if we all get our school work in?”

“You bet,” was my reply.

One message I learned was that overcoming adversity leads to realizing new inspiration and linking to new goals. It’s not about fiction – but it is as fragile as a glass in the wind. We must work to keep our goals in front. Forrest Fisher photo

Over those years, the entourage of students taught me a vital teacher lesson.  Instead of prodding the class to get work in, I had the students that finished their work early help those who lagged behind.

The classroom became a dynamic hands-on experience.

The day of the wild game meal arrived, and I had reserved the home economics room to hold the celebration.  The students brought in venison, rabbit, squirrel, and pheasant.  Suddenly, my principal arrived and asked, “How in the hell can you justify this?  I want to see you in my office after school!”

I humbly whispered to him, “Real easy, look over there at that table.  See the boy eating off the other students’ plate?  He didn’t have breakfast this morning and can’t afford to buy a school lunch.”

Still, the principal left the home economics room very angry.

The principal learned that the sweet-smelling aroma from perfectly cooked rabbits, squirrels, and deer can bring folks together to appreciate each other and nature. Forrest Fisher photo

After school, I went to the principal’s office.

“You wanted to see me,” I stated.

“Not anymore.  I don’t know what you do to motivate those losers; just keep doing it.”

I followed with a response.  “Shame on you!  Every student deserves to have an equal opportunity for a good education.  To only focus on the book smart kids whose parents own businesses in town is wrong!”

Another lesson learned from my students!

Wild game food provided a pathway to celebrate accomplishment among my students, leading the way to a much-improved classroom life for everyone.  The principal learned that the sweet-smelling aroma from perfectly cooked rabbits, squirrels, and deer can bring folks together to appreciate each other and nature.

Life lessons have extended to a well-deserved destination when the classroom and conservation come together.

Editor Note – About the Author: Robert E. Holzhei is an inspirational factual and fictional author, he has published more than 425 outdoor travel stories and several motivsational books, including The Mountains Shall Depart (2017), The Hills Shall Be Removed (2018), Canadian Fly-In Fishing Adventure (1993), and Alaskan Spirit Journey (1999). He is the recipient of five national writing awards from the Association of Great Lakes Outdoor Writers (AGLOW), including 1st Place in the Best of Best Newspaper Story, and multiple additional awards for writing (including three presidential awards). He has also been recognized by the Michigan Education Association, the Michigan Outdoor Writers Association and the Michigan Interscholastic Press Association. His books can be found for purchase on Amazon.

 

 

A Day with the New DEC Region 9 Director at Walleye MECCA Destination – Dunkirk, NY

Posted on by Mike Joyner
Julie Barrett O’Neill, the new Director for NYSDEC Region 9, is a hands-on manager that loves to share conversation about the outdoors.

By Mike Joyner

One can easily state that any and all ports of access to Lake Erie lead to the walleye capital of the world. You would be correct, just as your fishing partners’ may counter declarations. Rather than debate the issue, I’ll lead us into the “declaration of Dunkirk” as a “must experience” port of launch and a favored choice to pursue a great fishing experience on Lake Erie. As reported in recent years by myself and legions of the outdoor media, the 2022 walleye season on Lake Erie is consistent with all the observations and claims as a “Walleye Mecca” of prior years. Yes, folks, it’s that good!

This year’s VIP Fish Day, held annually every August, would greet us with mixed clouds, moderate temperatures, and the calmest waters I have ever experienced on this Great Lake. This year’s event was coordinated by Jim and Diane Steel of the Innovative Outdoors team. A well-organized and super friendly event. Lots of familiar faces and many new ones. The event pairs Charter Captains with outdoor writers, local legislators, business leaders, and members of the NYSDEC Fisheries group. The group of outdoor writers present would hail from Indiana, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Maryland, Ohio, Rhode Island and New York.

As a fishing partner, I would be paired up with Julie Barrett O’Neill, the new Director for NYSDEC Region 9. We would join Captain Hans Mann of Buffalo Harbor Outfitters on his 21′ Warrior boat for a morning of outstanding fishing.

Captain Hans Mann of Buffalo Harbor Outfitters treats his guests with comfort and fish-catching aboard his 21′ Warrior boat. The city of Dunkirk is in the background.

Our trip out into the harbor was inspirational for all its beauty and the lake’s calmness. We would be heading out to 60′ – 90′ depths to troll for walleyes that had been, in recent days, hanging near the bottom. Just 30 minutes into setting up the lines, we were already into fish as we started our first trolling run. Although we ran a pattern of depths, those we had out deep with dipsy divers and worm spinner jigs made it happen. The fish-catching started off with Julie landing the first walleye. We both would catch our limit for the day and release others back to the lake. To this day, in my humble opinion, walleye is one of the best fish to eat and is a welcomed treat in our home.

The fishing was fantastic, and the conversation during our trip was even better! Julie comes into her new role as Region 9 Director with an impressive resume. She is as passionate about the resource as any of us. Julie is incredibly excited about the outlook for Lake Sturgeon, which is making significant progress in the North American conservation story. Having a Director that is hands-on and very comfortable with fishing tackle is a good thing for us sportsmen. As I have, you’ll find her very approachable, friendly and knowledgeable. I would also learn that Hans is just as passionate about fishing for muskies and very involved as a board member of the Eastern Lake Erie Charter Boat Association. I can tell you Hans runs an efficient setup and is directly dialed in on walleyes. I can easily envision how he takes his ‘A’ game to muskies. I found Hans to be a great boat captain and super friendly. They are genuinely great people to enjoy time out on the water with. We would discuss many topics concerning the fisheries, future development, and the current issues with proposed windmills. In a few hours on a beautiful morning, all the essential goals of the VIP event were being met on a 21′ boat. The future for Eastern Lake Erie has a bright future, in my view.

The event concluded with a great lunch at the Northern Chautauqua Conservation Club. As in the past, we got updates on issues concerning the lake, the latest research, and the fishery outlook.

The Dunkirk pier fish-cleaning station is crowded with everyday anglers taking fillets home for dinner. Ice and free fishing advice are available here, plus you can observe an assortment of fish cleaning tools and methods.

It is a beautiful format to promote not only the great fishery and recreational opportunities of the area but also puts the significant stakeholders together in the same room, the same boat, to further the communication needed for developing the resource. The event is fully supported by the following organizations: Chautauqua County Visitors Bureau, Erie County Fisheries Advisory Board and the Eastern Lake Erie Charter Boat Association.

www.tourchautauqua.com

https://www3.erie.gov/environment/fisheries-advisory-board

www.easternlakeeriecharters.com

www.buffaloharboroutfitters.com

www.innovative-outdoors.com

-MJ
© 2022 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media

In Georgia, Time to start filling the freezer with venison!

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Georgia allows hunters to harvest up to 10 antlerless deer and no more than two antlered deer.
  • Deer of either sex may be taken with archery equipment at any time on private land during the deer season.
  • To pursue deer in Georgia, hunters must have a valid hunting license, a big game license and a current deer harvest record.
  • All harvested deer must be reported through Georgia Game Check within 24 hours.
Shane Turpen with a Carroll County Buck (2019). Courtesy of GeorgiaWildlife.com/deer-info.

By Forrest Fisher

The statewide archery deer hunting season begins Saturday, Sept. 10, according to the Georgia Department of Natural Resources Wildlife Resources Division (WRD).

Last year, 83,000 archery hunters harvested over 44,000 deer. Statewide, hunters can use archery equipment throughout the entire 2022-2023 deer season.  

“Archery hunting season is nearly here, and bowhunters get the ‘first shot,’ pun intended,” said state deer biologist Charlie Killmaster. “While it may seem too hot to hunt the early part of archery season, it is an excellent time to pattern deer. Persimmons are a highly prized natural food source during the early season, but don’t overlook the trails between good cover and a food source to locate mature bucks.”

Public Hunting Opportunities
Georgia WRD operates more than 100 public wildlife management areas (WMAs). These areas offer hunting dates throughout deer season and even some specialty deer hunts, including youth, ladies, seniors, and disabled and returning veterans license holders. Maps, dates and more info can be found at GeorgiaWildlife.com/locations/hunting.

Hunters can find additional hunting opportunities on Voluntary Public Access, or VPA, properties. These properties are available thanks to a USDA grant that allows for the arrangement of temporary agreements with private landowners for public hunting opportunities. More information at GeorgiaWildlife.com/VPA-HIP.

“Interested in eating from locally available, sustainable sources?” questions Killmaster. “Venison is a nutrient-rich, heart-healthy lean protein, and there are so many amazing ways to cook it. Check out our blog at GeorgiaWildlife.blog and type ‘venison’ in the search bar – you won’t be disappointed!”

Hunting Need-to-Know Info
State law allows hunters to harvest up to 10 antlerless deer and no more than two antlered deer (with one of the two antlered deer having a minimum of four points,  one inch or longer, on one side of the antlers) or a minimum of 15 inches outside antler spread. For most hunters in the state, the deer season ends on Jan. 8. However, some specific counties (Barrow, Bibb, Chatham, Cherokee, Clarke, Clayton, Cobb, Columbia, Decatur, DeKalb, Douglas, Fayette, Forsyth, Fulton, Gwinnett, Hall, Henry, Muscog, Paulding, Rockdale and Seminole) offer either-sex archery deer hunting through Jan. 31. Additionally, deer of either sex may be taken with archery equipment at any time on private land during the deer season.

To pursue deer in Georgia, hunters must have a valid hunting license, a big game license and a current deer harvest record. Licenses can be purchased online at GoOutdoorsGeorgia.com, by phone at 1-800-366-2661, or at a license agent (list of agents available online).

All harvested deer must be reported through Georgia Game Check within 24 hours. Deer can be reported on the Outdoors GA app (which works regardless of cell service), at GoOutdoorsGeorgia.com, or by calling 1-800-366-2661.

For more on deer hunting, including finding a game processor, reviewing regulations, viewing maps (either sex day or the rut map), visit GeorgiaWildlife.com/deer-info.

Tazin Lake Lodge Guides Master the Midday Meal

Posted on by Dave Barus
The visual presentation of this wilderness feast is surpassed only by its unbeatable aroma, texture, and taste.

By Dr. Jason A. Halfen

Waves lapping against the rocks, a crackling fire, and a delicious handcrafted meal of fresh fish, fried potatoes, and warm beans fuel the body and fill the soul. This is angling comfort food at its finest – and like most of you, I could enjoy this meal every day and twice on Sundays. However, everyone should be willing to step away from the typical midday fare and embrace a little variety on an extended trip north of the border.

I met Canadian guide and foodie Kent Kulrich on a recent trip to northwest Saskatchewan’s beautiful Tazin Lake Lodge, a destination renowned for its huge lake trout and enormous northern pike. My group connected with Kent and his guests for lunch on one afternoon, and I was utterly blown away by the meal presented to me on a granite knoll overlooking gorgeous Tazin Lake. This was a baked lake trout feast like none I had ever encountered – and now, you’ll be able to enjoy it too.

“Fried fish, spuds, and beans are great,” reflects Kulrich, “but we like to offer our guests something a little different if they’re in the mood.” While anglers flock to Tazin Lake Lodge to tangle with multiple 40-inch class lake trout during their visit, northwest Saskatchewan’s Tazin Lake is also brimming with eater-size lakers – fish in the three to five-pound class. Tazin Lake Lodge’s staff of professional and experienced guides take advantage of this bounty, perfecting several trout recipes that elevate the shore lunch experience to entirely new levels. Below, you’ll find Kent Kulrich’s recipe for baked lake trout with a sweet chili sauce, paired with maple-glazed red potatoes and seasoned veggies.

Author Dr. Jason A. Halfen is a long-time guide, tournament angler, and specialist in marine electronics who owns and operates The Technological Angler. He is holding an eater-size lake trout.

Begin with an eater-size lake trout. We caught these in abundance in relatively shallow water at Tazin Lake – and by shallow, I mean anywhere from one to twenty feet deep. Ever seen a 20-inch lake trout swimming in six inches of water along a sandy beach? Or caught a laker on a topwater less than a yard from shore? If not, add those to your list of things to do while visiting Tazin Lake Lodge. Gut the trout, remove the head and tail, and then slice through the skin and part-way into the meat along every inch along the trout’s length. A Regal River 7-Inch Straight Fillet Knife from Smith’s Consumer Products is the right tool for this job. Those slices ensure that the fish cooks evenly, allowing flavors to penetrate throughout.

Begin seasoning the trout by rubbing salt and lemon pepper into the cuts along the sides of the body. Add a generous amount of sweet chili sauce, lime juice, and fresh parsley. Wrap the seasoned trout in parchment paper – which keeps the fish moist as it cooks and prevents sticking – and encase it within a double layer of aluminum foil. Place the package on top of hot wood coals and bake for about 15-minutes, flipping once as the trout cooks.

A Regal River 7-Inch Straight Fillet Knife from Smith’s Consumer Products is the right tool for this job.

With the fish baking on the coals, turn your attention to the sides. Slice red potatoes into chunks, fry them in a cast-iron pan with a bit of oil until done, and then glaze them with maple syrup – because, after all, this is Canada, eh? A blend of seasoned salt and smoked paprika finishes these wilderness spuds and pleases the most discerning palette. While the potatoes cook, open cans of corn and mushrooms and simmer them in water, right in their original cans. When the veggies are heated, drain the water and add diced fresh garlic, rosemary, and parsley before combining the corn and mushrooms into a delicious blend that perfectly complements the other components of this Saskatchewan feast.

The visual presentation of this wilderness feast is surpassed only by its unbeatable aroma, texture, and taste.

When timed correctly, the sweet chili-baked trout, maple syrup-glazed potatoes, and seasoned corn and mushrooms should be ready at just about the same time. Open the trout’s foil package into the shape of a large bowl, then add the spuds and veggies alongside the baked guest of honor. The visual presentation of this wilderness feast is surpassed only by its unbeatable aroma, texture, and taste. It’s hard to return to fried fish after a meal like this!

Shore lunch is an integral part of every Canadian fishing experience. On your next visit to Saskatchewan’s outstanding Tazin Lake Lodge, be sure to grab an eater-size lake trout right before lunch and give this baked trout recipe a whirl. You’ll be thrilled that you did.

NOTE: Images courtesy of Dan Amundson, Kent Kulrich, and Dr. Jason A. Halfen

About Dr. Jason A. Halfen: A long-time guide, tournament angler, and specialist in marine electronics who owns and operates The Technological Angler, which teaches anglers to leverage modern technology to find and catch more fish. Learn more by visiting The Technological Angler on Facebook or @technoangler on Instagram.

About Smith Products: We are constantly striving to identify improved methods for providing consumers with the best edge, as shown by our recent launch of an electric sharpener incorporating interlocking diamond-coated wheels that ensure a factory-sharp edge to your knife with only a few quick passes of the knife. We also offer designs appropriate for the field or your gourmet kitchen. We have the broadest line of knife and scissors sharpeners available, ranging from simple, fixed-angle pull-through sharpeners for consumers that want quick and easy sharpening to sophisticated Precision Kits designed for the knife sharpening enthusiast. Our offering includes both manual and electrical sharpeners that incorporate many different abrasive materials, including diamond, carbide, ceramic, bonded synthetic abrasives and, of course, natural Arkansas stones.

When Technology and Purpose meet Steelhead Angler Passion…at G. Loomis

Posted on by Dave Barus
Lake Erie tributary streams in Chautauqua County, NY, offer easy angler access to big stream fish. Matt Nardolillo photo

By Forrest Fisher

If you’re among the lucky ones chasing chrome in a Great Lakes or ocean-bound tributary stream, you already know that we anglers are only as good as our tools. Rod, reel and line are among these. Having the right rod in hand provides distinct advantages. At the ICAST 2022 new product show, G. Loomis introduced the IMX-PRO STEELHEAD rod. Loaded with technology and purpose, this new tool will enable anglers to maximize their effectiveness on the water with exacting standards.

Steelhead fishing isn’t a pastime for most steelhead anglers. It’s an obsession. Forged from experience, passion, and often a healthy pinch of optimism, hardened steelhead anglers in the Great Lakes Region often slog through extreme weather swings from autumn through winter and into spring, when the fish are in those tribs. As you might expect, no two steelhead streams fish the same, as each tributary can require a unique application of tactics, techniques, and specialized tackle to slide the odds of fish-catching into the angler’s favor. The rod is perhaps the most important tool in collecting steelhead-catching tools.

Steelhead anglers find the new IMX-PRO STEELHEAD rods offer ease of handling and improved sensitivity on the water. The rod series is offered in multiple stream gear options, including center-pin rods. 

The new IMX-PRO STEELHEAD is a collection of cast, spin, float, and center-pin action options built to meet the exacting requirements of modern steelhead fishing. The Loomis technology exclusive multi-taper design yields a lightweight library of steelhead-specific rods with precisely-defined lengths, powers, and actions that strike the perfect balance between durability and performance. With MSRPs of $365 to $635, this rod series provides anglers with the specific tools needed to secure success on the water.

IMX-PRO STEELHEAD fishing rod features:

About G. Loomis: We exist to heighten angler experience through creating tools that expand tactical opportunity, boost effectiveness, and enhance natural ability. We develop solutions for experienced hands designed to complement capability. We strive to expand what’s possible to achieve the unattainable. Our DNA is comprised of three equal parts: Technology, Innovation, and Design. Since 1982, we’ve contributed innovative materials and manufacturing technology to the angling community. Examples include early graphite construction, advanced guide trains, Multi-Taper Design and advanced resin systems. Visit https://www.gloomis.com/.

Fishing is GREAT at Destination Niagara USA

Posted on by Dave Barus

Fishing the Niagara bar on Lake Ontario is HOT!

Alan Garrison of Wheatfield with a 26-pound salmon he reeled in on the Niagara Bar last Sunday using flasher and fly.

By Frank Campbell

The final weekend of the Lake Ontario Counties (LOC) Trout and Salmon Derby is this weekend, and Joe Miller of Honeoye is still leading for the $25,000 Grand Prize with a 28-pound, 14-ounce king salmon reeled in off Point Breeze in Orleans County. Both trout leaders changed this past week. In the Steelhead division, Daryl Jenkins of Factoryville, Pennsylvania, gave his charter skipper Capt. Vince Pierleoni of Thrillseeker an early 60th birthday present when he weighed in a 13-pound, 6-ounce Olcott fish. For the brown trout category, Kathryn Covin of Howard, Pennsylvania, took over the top slot with a 16-pound Wilson fish. The derby ends at 1 p.m. on Labor Day, with the awards to follow at 3 p.m. at Riley’s Bar and Grill in Sodus Bay. Check out www.loc.org for a complete leaderboard.

The Greater Niagara Fish Odyssey fishing contest is now over. The awards ceremony will be held on Sept. 25 at 3 p.m. at the NYPA Wildlife Festival. There are numerous winners for both the adults and the kids. Check out the Fishing Chaos website or fishodyssey.net for a complete list. Remember that it will all change when the first-place winners are put into a hat and randomly drawn by Carmen Presti representing the Primate Sanctuary.

Scott Rohe of Cheektowaga caught this salmon while trolling in front of Olcott last week. 
Mike Rzucidlo of Niagara Falls with a 29-inch walleye from the lower Niagara River he caught from shore at night. 

In the fishing department, the weather put the fishing on hold for a few days, but the mature king salmon are starting to show up on time. According to Capt. Mike Johannes of On the Rocks Charters out of Wilson, it has been a tough grind in 90 to 200 feet of water for staging kings. The salmon have been very finicky, but the bite can be very good when you are in the right place at the right time. The water from Olcott to the Niagara Bar has been producing some big kings. It has been mostly flashers and flies, but some days flashers and meat have been best. Magnum and medium-sized spoons are always an option, especially out deep. Johannes has been running riggers 50 feet down to just off the bottom. Anglers run divers anywhere from 100 to 220 feet back, depending on the day and the depth.

Niagara Bar action has been good to very good for mature king salmon, according to John Van Hoff of North Tonawanda, while trolling aboard the Terminator. His crew primarily ran flashers and flies, and they caught mature king salmon from the Canadian line all the way to Six Mile Creek. Cut bait has turned on between the Niagara Bar and Wilson, and there were good reports of decent salmon fishing.

John Van Hoff (left) holds up a 26-pound salmon he caught last Sunday with Kevin Guenther of Niagara Falls on the Niagara Bar. 
Parker Costello of Lockport caught some bass in Devil’s Hole last Friday fishing with Capt. Frank Campbell of Lewiston.

Capt. Tim Sylvester of Tough Duty Charters reports that the offshore bite off Olcott has been decent from the 26 to the 30 line, catching a mix of salmon and trout. There have been a few mature kings off the port in 100-200 feet of water, but it has been a slow pick.

In the Niagara River, Lisa Drabczyk with Creek Road Bait and Tackle reports that walleye action is still good, and the bass fishing has been consistent. For walleye, some of the river drifts are holding fish, as well as the Niagara Bar area around the green buoy marker. From shore and boat, the bass are hitting off the NYPA fishing platform, on the Bar and around the Fort. Crayfish is the top live bait that most people are using.

Wear a wonder. Shop Niagara Falls USA apparel, drinkware, and gifts at the Niagara Falls USA Official Visitor Center, or browse our online shop.
Destination Niagara USA, 10 Rainbow Blvd., Niagara Falls, NY 14303; p: 1-877 FALLS US | 716-282-8992 x. 303
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Casting the Caloosahatchee – Saltwater Fishing Fun

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

By Forrest Fisher

Sunshine and grins are a big part of fishing with friends, especially on the Caloosahatchee River near Fort Myers. Fishes and nature abound here.

As my grandson and I turned the corner to head toward the boat landing, a spectacular sunrise moment in full bloom appeared before us. The morning cloud formations in brilliant “glow orange” were above description. The white puffs were soaring up to 40,000 feet or more and reflecting with the glimmering orange radiance of the sunrise yet below our visible horizon. It was spooky, it was cool, and it was fantastic – all at the same time.

The white puffs of clouds were soaring with the glimmering orange radiance of the sunrise yet below our visible horizon. It was spooky, it was excellent, and it was fantastic – all at the same time. 

“Good morning, guys! There’s hot coffee over here,” hollered Rich Perez and his dad, Rich Perez, Sr. It was 6:28 a.m., and they were both loading up the 2-wheeled gear-carry tram to move our fishing rods, tackle, coolers and foodstuffs from the parking area to dock and the boat. Grinning with his usual positive anticipation for the day ahead and looking at the tram, Rich Sr. said, “This thing is such a blessing!” A seagull hollered approval as he flew over our group and may have scented a whiff of Italian sub sandwiches below as if to ask, “Got anything down there for me?” Somehow the seagulls always know where to look for their next food morsel, especially near the beach.

My grandson Collin, myself, a neighbor friend Dustin, Rich Sr. and Rich – the five of us loaded the boat and headed down the Caloosahatchee River with grins for the day ahead and anticipation for tight lines to be shared. The 300HP Yamaha on the stern quickly poked the 24-foot Key West center console bay boat up to 40 mph. As we approached the Cape Coral Bridge, Rich hollered and pointed to see all the fish rising just off the main channel. In the approximately 1-mile-wide river section, we watched seagulls dive for baitfish pushed toward the surface by predator fish below. We saw an occasional fin or two as the fish would sweep and roll over to grab their breakfast.

Collin Voss with the first fish of the day, a young-of-the-year Jack Crevalle. His first “Catch and Release” of the day.

“Guys, let’s get some spoons tied on and see what those fish are,” Rich added. Collin tossed a ½-ounce Johnson Silver Sprite spoon near the mixing boils about 50 feet from the boat. His first cast yielded a nice 20-inch ladyfish, then another and another – the kid was on ladyfish fire. ”There’s another one!” he said. Rich suggested we keep a few of these for cut bait if we couldn’t find any pilchards with the cast net later. We all traded the casting rods to share in the brief fun. Collin caught his first-ever Jack Crevalle during the baitfish melee. A little one, but we had to take a pic.

The sun had just popped up behind us as we headed under the 90-foot-high span of the Cape Coral Bridge. The boat traffic was minimal, a good thing, but it was early. We slowed for the two no-wake zones along the way to protect shallow water migrating Manatee from boat damage. We waved to other recreational boaters and anglers alike, and everyone was happy to be sharing the day. Then we headed west under the Sanibel Causeway bridge and to Matanzas Pass near Fort Myers beach. We searched for full blooms of baitfish clouds on the sonar, hoping to find pilchards or threadfin herring. We checked all the usual bridge abutment spots, anchored pilings and permanent buoys, and Rich threw the 12-foot net, but the counts were nil. Just as we were set to depart the area, a young-of-the-year snowy egret landed on the bow. Apparently looking for a few minnows that he anticipated he could steal, but there were none. The white feathers of the bird and the black beak allow this bird to be startlingly beautiful to watch. It has been said by others that the white color signifies attributes of purity, dignity and tranquility, while black provides a symbol of mystery, elegance and sophistication. On we went to share in mystery and tranquility!

The Sabiki rig allowed us to catch about 30 threadfin shad for bait, plus the cut bait that we had from the ladyfish caught earlier.

Rich explained that although it takes a little more effort to catch and fish with bait fish, he added, “It is the hunt for the bait that tells what is going on with the fishery on the day we fish, and that this is all part of the challenge for a fishing day, at time. He added, “Live bait fish are still among the most effective ways to catch fish, wherever you fish.”  My grandson and I have fished with many friends that catch their baitfish in various ways. Everyone has their most effective personal style of capturing bait. No doubt, the cast net is the most effective where it is legal, but there are minnow traps, seine nets, pinfish traps and, of course, those trusty multi-hook Sabiki rigs. The Sabiki rig is for when the bait is too deep or is quicker than the descending cast net. Only moments later, “What do you guys think? Should we try the Sabiki rigs?” We all signaled a hearty yeah. Tying these on with a 3-ounce bottom weight makes it easy to drop and lift in 10 to 20 feet of water. The rigs featured 7-hooks tied in dropper-loop style, and the sharp, tiny hooks were colored with chartreuse yellow imitation feathers. With an outgoing tide, we caught about 30 threadfins in just a few minutes after moving to deeper water near the bridge abutments. Rich drove around slowly to find the clouds of fish near the bottom. Hey, this bait fish fishing was fun!

Rich moved us to the isolated mangrove shoreline between Punta Creek and Jewfish Creek. The mangrove side was shallow, and in this location, the opposite side of the boat was near a sector of deep drop-offs linked up with the Okeechobee Waterway. A transitory fish channel. A fish hawk flew by just moments later and decided to hover over the boat. He might have spotted the cut bait Rich had prepared on the stern. We waved at him, and he moved on. A sight to see, but all the sea birds seemed hungry.

Dustin working the shadows with his skip-casting artform was looking for Snook hiding in the shade that might need a tasty tidbit of threadfin. 

Our day went on, moving from time to time, casting the live bait to the shadows on the mangrove side (Size 3/0 hooks with 30-pound fluorocarbon leader off 30-pound braid) and throwing DOA shrimp-style jigs on the deep water side. We enjoyed an excellent time fishing, some tasty sandwiches, cold beverages on ice in the Yeti, and jokes and laughter. We hooked up with many different fish species but lost many of them on this day. Rich Sr. had hooked up with three Snook that simply outsmarted his total control of rod, reel and drag. He had words that were shared with the intelligent fish, but then all that changed in just one quick instant.

Rich Sr. said, “Hey, I got one! Look at this” He lifted his rod and touted a giant blue crab on board. The crab immediately went into toe pinching mode, adding one more saga of yelping to the fish trip. Just then, a dolphin emerged a few feet from the boat. He, too, was fishing for a meal. Beautiful to see all these critters of nature in one day on the water.

Overall, Collin may have hooked and lost more fish than Rich Sr., but he simply shared a grin with each release that he called “good conservation practice.” Collin was dubbed with a new nickname before the trip ended. Nice going, “CR!” After a few quips from the fishing crew and hearty laughs, Collin said, “OK, what does the CR stand for?” Someone shared, “It means Catch and Release. You earned a new title, CR!” We all laughed out loud. Honestly, that was very unlike Collin; he was a sure hook and catch guy, but not today. He shouted out an answer to everybody on the boat, “Captain Rich, I need more practice. When can we fish again?!” Hearty laughs followed again.

Just then Rich hooked into something that was taking his 30-pound braid out on the drag setting. Whatever it was, the tug of war went on for about 10-minutes before Collin reached for the net. There is was, a nice Jack Crevalle. An adult this time.  Rich said, “Man these guys fight so hard!”

The trip was full of chuckling moments, the kind that lasts a lifetime in our minds of these extraordinary times to be remembered. We had caught Snook, Jack Crevalle, Ladyfish, and many forms of baitfish – those on rod and reel including Threadfin and Pilchards, and a blue crab, and we enjoyed the peace of observing many sea birds and a dolphin. All close-up.

As we watched the usual afternoon storm clouds forming on the eastern horizon, it was after 12 noon, and we had agreed with Captain Rich that it was time to head back. Just a mile from the boat dock, the clouds decided to open up with a sturdy fresh water rinse. All of us and our gear received a wash down. With the earlier temperature nearing 95 degrees, it felt good. I prayed with a silent Our Father, too, as we all heard the thunder claps and watched lightning strikes in the distance on each side of the river. A moment later, we were safe at the dock.

Thank you, Lord, for this day. Amen. I can’t wait until we fish again!

Boat Captain Rich Perez knows how to share the fun of fishing, even when you have to hunt for live bait. One awesome day on the water! Rich Perez photo.

 

Smoker Drumsticks…Simply Delicious! Easy-to-do

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

By Forrest Fisher

My grandson and I tried something new in the smoker getting ready for a Sunday family dinner celebration. Chicken drumsticks! A few weeks back, we found some huge chicken drumsticks at a local market in Arcadia, Florida. When we bought them, we vacuum-packed 13 of them for later use – that day was last weekend. It took about 3 hours to bring them up from freezer temp to room temp, then we seasoned them up in two groups. This was a first-time family taste experiment with chicken drumsticks, HUGE drumsticks. For reference on size, these 13 drumsticks weighed nearly 4.5 pounds!

The first group of 6 was prepared with a spice mix blended together in a small bowl:

The second group of 7 used a blended spice mix quite different from the first group:

It didn’t take long to fire up the smoker with mesquite wood chips, 275F.  It took 2 hours to reach 170F internal on the whopper chicken legs.

In between, after 90 minutes, we flipped them over and brush-coated all of them with ½ cup of liquid chili sauce mix from Aldi’s that was thinned with ¼ cup of Bragg’s apple cider vinegar.

Then we smoked the coated drumsticks at the same temperature for another 30 minutes to harden and crisp up the skin.

In the future, we plan to try the same recipe in the oven and then again in the instant pot with the same formula.

We’ll be looking for taste vs time to do, but honestly, it will be tough to beat the real smoker cooking taste.

These smoker drumsticks were absolutely delicious! Just plain delicious! Worth the time (total = 3 hrs).

 

Lock Horns with the Sun and Win 

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

By Forrest Fisher

At 2 PM on July 2nd on a busy holiday weekend on a beach in Southwest Florida, the air temperature was 97 degrees, and the heat index was 107. That’s a hot day anywhere in the USA. The water in the Gulf of Mexico was crystal clear with a slightly bluish hue and a gentle surf, perfect for a treasure hunt walk. The goal is to find some unblemished sea shells and prehistoric shark teeth for which this beach is noted.

There were four of us, so two stayed back to sit on a blanket, hoping their twice-applied sunscreen would protect them but still allow a sun tan. Using a UV thermometer, the surface temperature of the sand measured 116 degrees. Ouch! Sandals were among the required beach gear. Finding a cold drink on a public beach at Stump Pass State Park (Florida) is impossible. No vendors are allowed, so you need to bring your own. A week before, we searched the web and found a hand-carry bag that allowed cellphones, wallets, and ice in one product gizmo. It is called the “Grizzly Carryall.” 

This soft-sided product is 32 liters big in volume and is very light when empty: 1 pound-14 ounces! Some of our other hard-sided coolers in that size weigh as much as 20 pounds when empty. They work well, but they weigh so much when adding ice and beverages, even with wheels that do not work well on sand. We loaded up the Grizzly Carryall with 8 cans of pre-chilled 12-ounce Coca-Cola’s, 6 pre-chilled 16-ounce plastic bottles of water, 4 pre-chilled 12-ounce bottles of V8 vegetable juice, and one 24-ounce jar of Margarita’s. We also tossed in two 6” x 6” x 2” frozen blue ice packs and a 4-pack of unbreakable cups. The Carryall has side pockets for phones, wallets, and car keys, and a spare inside pocket for an extra set of socks, sunscreen, sunglasses, underwear – or whatever. All the compartments are sealable with durable zippers to open/close.

The chilled beverages stayed ice-cold for the three hours we enjoyed the sweltering beach – on the hot sand, with no umbrella and no shade. True test. Honestly, we were all amazed. The ice-cold drinks tasted so good when we needed them. 

Also, the walk from the car to the beach with the Carryall is comfortable with a dual-locking handle strap above the main bag YKK zipper that brings tight closure to tote on your shoulder. It was still light, even with all those goodies on board. The Grizzly Carryall is leakproof, insulated, water-resistant, and handsome. The reflective, attractive, glacier blue outer cover helps maintain the chill inside, and the Carryall is guaranteed for life. Imagine that. It has a small retail price tag of $125 (we found it for $100) and a significant 32-liter volume with 4 YKK zipper pockets. One more time, it all weighs in at only 1 lb. – 14 oz. UNREAL. For physical size, it measures 14H x 18L x 8W in inches. 

This is one useful (fantastic) keep-me-cold, quality product with convenient minor storage for families that enjoy short trips anywhere when it’s hot or cold. I like this product. Visit https://www.grizzlycoolers.com/insulated-drifter-carry-all-totes/. 

Generations of Soldiers – Thank You!                   

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

By Larry Whiteley

It was the morning of July 4th. A truck with three men pulls into the marina. Their families were still sleeping at the lodge where they were all staying. They get out of the truck and tease each other about who will catch the most fish while unloading their fishing gear. A brilliant orange sunrise lit up the eastern sky as they headed down the ramp to the dock.

The pontoon boat pulled away from the dock. An American flag hung from the bow blowing gently in the breeze. A family of three generations of soldiers celebrated Independence Day by going out crappie fishing. The father was a veteran of the Vietnam War, the son had been in the Gulf War, and the grandson had recently returned from Afghanistan.

They laughed, they smiled, they caught crappie. Between reeling in fish, they talked about vacations they had been on together. They spoke of their beloved family deer camp. They talked about other fishing trips they had been on. They talked about kids, grandkids, and military buddies. Many stories were shared, but none about war and the things they had all seen and been through. They kept all that to themselves.

They talked about the dad, the grandfather, and the great grandfather who had been one of the “Greatest Generation.” The father smiled and spoke about how much he would have loved being there. Fishing and family were important to him. They all kind of felt he was with them that morning and how proud he would have been of each of them for serving their country.

Being a soldier ran deep in this family. Other generations of family members fought in the Korean War, World War I, and even the Civil War. Serving their country was in their blood. It was not something that was expected of you. It was something you wanted to do. It was something you did.

They all stopped fishing to watch two eagles sitting in a nest at the top of a tree. Seeing this iconic symbol of America meant as much to them as the flag waving on the front of the boat. One of the eagles flew from the nest and started circling over the water. It was out fishing too. As it circled in the bright blue sky, it made the distinctive eagle sound which is said to be unlike any other sound in nature. They all knew that an eagle call represents a call to action. Native Americans believe the sound of an eagle gives you courage and life force to overcome your obstacles and fight against your challenge. They had all done that.

The eagle and its mate also reminded them that they had family back at the lodge waiting for them to come to pick them up so they could have a picnic out on the water. They put away their fishing gear and raised the anchor. As the boat idled into the marina, they could see their wives, kids, and grandkids. It reminded all of them of the time when their families were waiting for them when they came home from war. It also reminded them of how blessed they were to make it back home to their families when so many of their buddies did not.

They loaded up food and family and went back out on the water. The flag still waved on the front of the boat. As they motored across the lake, boats pulling water skiers and kids on tubes were everywhere. So were the jet skis. Other families were out having fun on this Independence Day. Most had no idea why we as Americans celebrate this day. No one realized that three generations of soldiers had just passed them on the water. Men like them fought to protect our country’s independence. Men and women like them continue to serve and fight for our country and the freedom of other countries worldwide.

As the pontoon boat continued across the crowded lake, the eagle flew over and circled them again. The kids loved seeing and hearing the eagle. They kept following the eagle until it led them into a quiet, shaded cove away from the crowds, and then it landed in a tree. It was almost like the eagle knew these men were three generations of soldiers and had led them to this place. The other eagle flew in and joined its mate and the families.

They unloaded water toys for the younger kids, a Mickey Mouse fishing rod for the 6-year-old, lawn chairs, and a cooler full of food and drinks. The father started a campfire and got the skillet ready. The other men filleted crappie and threw what was left of each fish out on the water for the eagles, to say thank you. Everyone loved watching the eagles circle the fish while making their sound and then dive down to the water for their special treat. Crappie sizzled in the cast iron skillet as the women got the rest of the food together.

When everything was ready to eat, they circled together as a family, held each other’s hands, and bowed their heads as the father/grandfather led them in prayer. He said, “God, thank you for this special time on this special day. Thank you for the nature you created for all of us to enjoy and care for. Thank you to men like my dad, my son, and my grandson who fought for this nation that was founded upon “In God We Trust.” It saddens me to see our country the way it is becoming. I pray that this nation will turn from its wicked ways and turn back to you. Thank you for the many blessings you have given this family. Amen!”

As they were eating, the 6-year-old told everyone that the eagles were praying too. “What do you mean,” said his dad. “I peeked at the eagles while papaw was praying,” the boy said. They both had their heads bowed while papaw prayed and then raised their heads when he was done and made that sound again.” Everyone looked up at the eagles and smiled. Some looked back at them again and wondered.

The afternoon was filled with talking about memories and making memories. Sitting in the shade, playing in the water, skipping rocks, and much more. The 6-year-old and his grandpa walked up the bank and found a good place for a 6-year-old to fish. Grandpa dug up a worm and put it on the little boy’s hook, then helped him cast it over by a log lying in the water. The bobber went under, and grandpa helped him reel in a little fish. It didn’t matter to the boy what size it was. He had to take it back and show everyone. Another fisherman joined the family that day.

A beautiful sunset lit up the western sky. A great day was coming to an end. They had all caught crappie and had a fun-filled afternoon as a family. They were getting ready to pull up the anchor when the fireworks started across the lake. The flag still waved on the front of the boat with the fireworks as a backdrop. The eagles saw them too. The soldiers all stood at once and saluted the flag. The rest of the family joined them, put their hand over their heart, and all started singing “God Bless America.” The 6-year-old looked up to see his dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa saluting the flag, so he did too. His great-grandpa looked down and saw him. He knew that someday his great-grandson would also hear the call of an eagle.

There would be another generation of soldiers.

Thank you to our Military Heroes…with Lee Greenwood

Posted on by David Gray
Please click on the picture above to hear Lee Greenwood sing a tribute to America.

By David Gray

I grew up in a place that had many heroes.

That place was the United States of America.

During the time that I grew up, we did not need the news channels to tell us who our heroes should be.

Though true heroes were pointed out to us so we would see them.

We learned about the actions that made them heroes.

Mom, dad, teachers, ministers and friends, all drew our attention to people who were heroes.

I learned that heroes are people who give of themselves when required.

I learned many live a very simple life, but often, their lives are a life of example and caring.

Heroes always give of themselves.

They serve others in whatever they do.

We have heroes today, but it seems we do not thank our heroes as much as we once did.

This writer citizen, and hundreds of Vietnam Veterans, want to thank Congresswomen Vicky Hartzler for organizing the 2022 Vietnam Veterans Recognition Event in Jefferson City, Missouri. A special thank you to those who served and are serving.

During the editing of this video, several veterans viewed it and many had tears in their eyes before it was over. One said the video was so patriotic and honest.  I know, and you probably know, more Vets that would enjoy watching this video and would share and pass it along to other veterans. Please do.

From all of us, a hearty thank you to our many military veteran heroes, you’ll see many of them in this video.

GOD BLESS ALL WHO SERVED and GOD BLESS AMERICA.

Outdoor Communicators of Kansas visit Lucas, Kansas – Outdoor Paradise: Fishing, Hunting, Hiking, Biking, and More

Posted on by Dave Barus
Nationally recognized editors, writers, photographers, artists, and bloggers gather ’round the campfire on a visit to Lucas, KS, for their annual conference.

By David Zumbaugh

The Outdoor Communicators of Kansas (OCK) chose Lucas, Kansas, for their fall 2021 conference on Nov. 20-22, 2021. OCK members include nationally recognized editors, writers, photographers, artists, and bloggers focusing on outdoor recreation.

Lyndzee Rhine was a happy duck hunter during a field day near Lucas, KS.

Nearby Wilson Lake is a fishing hotspot where anglers can catch walleye, white bass, striped bass, catfish, drum and even trophy big-mouthed bass. There is ample room to cruise your boat on the gorgeous 9,000 acres of water. If you prefer to patiently sit in a lawn chair and watch the world go by, you will find plenty of scenic places to fish from shore. The full-service marina in the state park is open from Apr. 1st – Nov. 1st. A host of items is offered, including groceries, live bait, fuel, fishing and camping supplies. There are 200 rental boat slips available.

 Surrounding Lake Wilson is more than 8,000 acres of public hunting access. Deer hunting is popular with hilly terrain providing spot and stalk opportunities. Small game hunters can wear out a pair of boots chasing pheasants, quail and even prairie chickens! Wild turkeys, rabbits and squirrels are present as well. Waterfowl hunting can sometimes get frenzied on the reservoir’s upper end and the many coves and backwater wetlands. There are thousands more acres within Russell and adjacent counties of Walk-In-Hunting-Access (WIHA). The WIHA Atlas is available online. 

Abundant camping opportunities exist, including Wilson State Park, Minooka Park, Lucas Park and Sylvan Park. Cabins and camper hookups are available, and reservations are recommended. Several hiking trails attract both hardcore nimrod hikers and the less ambitious. The Cedar Trail in the Otoe area is an easy one-mile loop with a concrete surface. The 25-mile Switchgrass Mountain Bike Trail is a national bucket list challenge for cyclists. 

Tommie Berger explains the “Yellow Brick Road.”

Other area attractions include the Post Rock Scenic Byway driving tour, Garden of Eden, Grassroots Art Center, Possumbilities Antique shop and Kansas Originals Market. Lodging is available in Lucas at the Garden View Lodge, Horseshoe Lodge, Cozy Cottage, Lucas RV Park, and Set in Stone Cabins. Many other lodging choices and services can be found in Russell and Wilson, Kansas. 

A short one-hour drive south will reward you with a visit to Cheyenne Bottoms Wildlife Area, the largest wetland in the interior of the United States. More than 300 species of birds have been documented in the bottoms, especially important for shorebirds. Whooping cranes are annual visitors, and people travel from around the globe to witness the antics of the whoopers. Some pools are open for waterfowl hunting, so it gets popular on the weekends during duck season. 

OCK members were surprised at Lucas’s variety of services and supplies, such as from the Home Oil Service Convenience store. They were awed and spooked by the eclectic displays at the Garden of Eden! A Bar-B-Que at the Garden View Lodge with meats sourced from Brant’s Market kept everyone’s energy at peak for their hunting efforts. Jason Vanley of Kansas Outdoor Adventures provided guiding services for pheasants and quail. His dogs entertained everyone at the evening social gathering. 

Lucas is located in the heart of the Smokey Hills, and many visitors consider this area the most beautiful in the state. Local businesses graciously offered support for hunting and fishing pursuits, and the Russell County Convention and Visitors Bureau provided generous hospitality to the group. Visit https://lucaskansas.com/visit for more information.

Garden View Lodge (foreground, right) and aerial view of Lucas, KS.

 

When do Illinois Ladies Bag a GIANT Triple-Spur Turkey?

Posted on by Dawn Redner

Answer: During the 2022 Illinois turkey hunting season!

One proud hunting day for me, kudos to my skilled husband for calling in this bird within my shooting range.

By Dawn Redner, with Forrest Fisher

The Illinois turkey season was open and, honestly, I was itching to get out there. I had a craving for a wild turkey dinner, though as everyone knows, bagging a bird doesn’t happen every season. Hey, I’m an optimist!

We were hunting on our own property, which includes about 12 acres of native forest.  There was something special about this day, though I wasn’t sure what it was. This time, though, I seemed more alert and more ready to hunt than usual.

Maybe it was because this time when I walked into our woods, I thanked the Lord that I can hunt with my husband, Wayne. Also deep in my prayers, I was thinking of my husband’s dad.  Wayne’s dad was always so proud of me for being a girl/woman fisherwoman and huntress. He passed on in March 1993.  We miss him.

As we approached the woods, I was careful to quietly load up my camo-color Remington 11-87.  I slid the Winchester Double-X, 3-inch number 5s in and double-checked my safe. All good. Wayne had the turkey calls with him, we were set to trek in.

In 15 minutes or so, in the dark, we set up in a good-looking woodsy spot. After just a few minutes, a serious gobble echoed off to our left. It was quite a ways off. We looked at each other through our face masks and whispered to consider moving closer. We moved quietly in the direction of the gobble to close the distance. We got as close as we thought we could and set up in a deadfall. While we were moving, we heard him gobble a few more times. We were moving, so we did not call back to him. We thought it was the same bird, the live turkey yak-yak tone sounded similar to the first hearty gobble we had heard. Quietly, we cleared a little brush out of the way and sat down. Wayne gave him a few soft yelps with his Primos Razor Hooks with Bat Cut Mouth Diaphragm.

We got an immediate response!  We waited a minute or two and called again.

We got another response, and he was much closer now.

He was on his way to us!

I lifted my Remington to rest on my knee and waited.

The few minutes felt like an hour as we waited, hoping to see him move into sight and range.

Then, just like that, there he was, only about 25 yards out. I gently slipped the safety off. In range now, I decided to take the shot, gently squeezing the trigger once. After the shot, I couldn’t see him anymore.

So I jumped up and ran to where I thought he should be, worried a bit.

Then, there he was! I had bagged him!

We high-5’d and hugged. Yes! The moment was fantastic!

After another look at the bird, it had funny-looking legs. We discovered he had all those extra spurs.

Three on one leg and two and a nub on the other leg.

He also had a very long beard and he was a pretty large bird.

Later, we measured the beard, it was 12-inches!

The weight scales really gave us an even bigger surprise, 25 pounds!

This was one big beautiful tree chicken.

One big beautiful memory.

I always wanted to get a Pope & Young just for my father-in-law, he might think this hunt came close to that. My husband does!

For me, this whole day will be unforgettable for a lifetime.

The bird was so massage and beautiful. The beard, tail, spurs. Unreal! The biggest bird I have ever seen.

My Gear List:

 

 

A Lifetime of Blessings – Lady Luck and Annie

Posted on by Dave Barus

The Great Spirit of fishing starts young, if you're a lucky little girl.

By Larry Whiteley

Annie with NASCAR legend Richard Petty.

It’s early morning on the river in Trout Park. The sun is beginning to peek through the forested hills. Annie is at the river’s edge, waiting with rod in hand. She is visiting with the men on both sides of her. It’s a cool morning. Annie is the only woman to brave the chill. The fishermen and one fisherwoman talk about the early spring weather and how they are glad that winter is over.

The rising sun reveals a beautiful fog rising from the water. The siren sounds to signal the anglers they can now start fishing. Annie’s lure is the first one to hit the water. In minutes, she is smiling and bringing a trout to her net. She puts it on a stringer and makes another cast. A few turns of the reel handle, and another trout takes her lure. This one is bigger and pulling line from her reel. It leaps from the water, and Annie shrieks with joy. After a few more jumps, she scoops it up with her net. She admires its beauty, puts it on the stringer and makes another cast. An hour later, she has her daily limit.

Annie knows how to catch big trout.

Several other fishermen who hadn’t been quite as successful came over to congratulate her. One of them asked what kind of lure she was using. She looked at him, smiled and said, “Honey, it’s not the lure that’s catching the fish. It’s this 75-year-old woman using it.” She laughed too, wished them luck and headed for her car. After she put her fish in the cooler, she looked up to the sky and thanked God for this particular time in the outdoors that He created. She also thanked Him for watching over her all these years.

Looking back at the river, she saw an eagle perched in a tree across from where she had been fishing. She remembered her favorite bible verse – “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.” She looked back at the eagle, smiled again and said to herself, “God sent an eagle to watch over me today!”

When she got home, she couldn’t get the eagle out of her mind, so she sat down to read about eagles. One of the things it said was that Native American Indians believe an eagle delivers their prayers to the Great Spirit. They hold an eagle feather aloft as a custom while saying a prayer. To them, the eagle meant strength, wisdom and courage. Annie has needed all those things throughout her life. A tear flowed down her cheek.

Annie was raised in the church and grew up loving the great outdoors. In San Mateo, California, she was born, where her dad worked for United Airlines. He was also an avid hunter and fisherman. Her mom liked to fish too and taught Annie that if you catch them, you clean them.

She loved it when they would travel north to see her grandparents in Ahwahnee, California. Her granddad was a friend of the famous photographer Ansel Adams, who rose to prominence as a photographer of the American West, notably Yosemite National Park, using his iconic black-and-white images to promote the conservation of wilderness areas.

L to R – Annie’s Dad, sister Suzi, Annie, Grandpa, and a bunch of trout.

Her granddad won awards for his photography. She remembers him having a darkroom in their house where he developed the pictures he took while out enjoying nature. Yosemite National Park was just 5 miles from Ahwahnee. The waterfalls, towering granite monoliths, deep valleys and ancient giant sequoias were a big part of her young life. Annie gives credit to her parents and grandparents for her love of the outdoors.

Annie was 9-years old when her dad was transferred by United Airlines to Kansas City, Missouri. Later they bought a home at Lake Waukomis, a town with a great fishing lake. That continued to fuel her love for fishing. One night she set some baited lines off a dock for catfish. She got up early the following day and found she had caught three nice catfish. She knew how to scale and clean other fish but had no idea how to clean a slimy ole’ catfish. So she took them into the bedroom where her dad was still asleep to ask him to help. “He sure wasn’t pleased about it,” said Annie.

They would travel down to Lebanon, Missouri, to visit her Grandma Effie on her mom’s side in the summers. Like most of her family, Grandma Effie was an outdoorsy person too. She took care of a 4-acre garden and still fished. During the depression, she did it to survive, but now she did it for fun and food.

Her Uncle Dale lived next to her grandma. He loved fly fishing and would take Annie along with him. After he caught a fish, he would hand Annie the rod and let her reel it in. “I never got into fly fishing like Uncle Dale,” says Annie. “I just thought, why would I want to cast five times to a fish when I could cast one time and catch it with a regular fishing rod and reel?”

When Annie graduated high school, her dad took her on a Canadian fishing trip with six other men. For seven days they caught and ate walleye. A few years later, her dad was transferred back to California with United Airlines. Her mom got sick, and her dad couldn’t take off work, so it was up to 18-year-old Annie to find them a place to live in San Mateo. She did.

Not long after that, Annie got married. She and her husband Bob lived in the state of Washington, and she traveled with him to Australia and other places. He passed away, but Annie won’t talk about that. After all those years, it still hurts too much. Annie says, “I was blessed with a strong father and a strong husband who said I could do anything, and through God, I can.”

Annie with fishing legend Jimmy Houston.

Annie eventually re-married to another man named Bob, who loved to fish as much as she did. They lived in Warsaw, Missouri, in a lakefront home on Lake of the Ozarks for 28 years. He had his own bass boat, and he got Annie an aluminum fishing boat with a bright yellow life jacket just for her. The yellow life jacket was so if he or neighbors came out looking for her (when she stayed out fishing too long), they could find her a lot easier. She still remembers the elk hunt he took her on and the beautiful Colorado Mountains.

She went fishing without him one day and caught a 13-pound hybrid bass. When she got it on the boat, she started crying. He asked her why she was crying. Through sniffles and tears, she said, “I always had this idea that if I ever caught a bass bigger than 5 or 6 pounds, God would take me home to heaven, so I am sitting here waiting to go.” Her husband said, “I guess God’s not done with you yet because you’re still here.”

After her second husband passed away, she never re-married. She moved to Blytheville, Arkansas and worked at a co-generation plant. When her dad passed away, she moved back to Springfield, Missouri, to take care of her mom. “With God, we can do anything,” says Annie. “He put us here to help one another.”

On May 11, 2011, nearby Joplin, Missouri, was hit by an F5 tornado. The town was devastated. Bass Pro Shops founder Johnny Morris started a fundraiser to benefit the disaster victims. They held an auction, and one of the items was a fishing trip with fishing legend Jimmy Houston on a private lake at his ranch in Oklahoma. Her bid won the trip for two. She invited the husband of a friend, who was always helping her, to go along. He was as excited as Annie. They caught well over 100 bass. “Jimmy and his wife Chris are wonderful people and could not have been more hospitable,” says Annie. “It was a sweltering day, and I got a little overheated. Chris went in and got her mamma’s fishing hat and put it on my head to shade me and cool me down. Jimmy and I still text back and forth all the time.”

Like Chris Houston, Annie has a special feeling for our Native Americans. She says her Grandma Effie always said they had Cherokee blood in them, but they have never been able to find absolute proof of that. That belief has been a big part of family stories for many years. A portion of the Cherokee Trail of Tears runs through her cousin’s property near Lebanon, Missouri. She has walked in the footsteps of the Cherokee on parts of the trail. She, like me, believes that this was their land, and we stole it from them. They were not the savages; the white man was. They were trying to protect their land and families.

Annie is a woman with a big heart.

Annie loves her fishing and says she will go anytime, anywhere. But, NASCAR racing comes in a close second. She got the racing bug watching dirt track races near her lake home in Missouri. She was at the race track when Dale Earnhardt died in a crash. She was always a fan of Rusty Wallace because he is a Missouri boy. She has met Tony Stewart several times and also met Richard Petty. I am not sure that I have ever seen her not wearing the Martin Truex Jr. jacket he autographed for her.

She also has agape or unconditional love for her two dogs that rule her life. Sammy is a Shitzu Poodle that adopted Annie in a Walmart parking lot. Callie is a 6-year-old Bushon that was someone’s throwaway dog. Her compassion, though, is not just for her dogs. She also once took a lady into her home that was a throwaway and needed Annie. We will never know how many other people Annie has helped.

Not one to sit around unless it is by a peaceful river, Annie is not accepting growing old. In less than a year, she has walked over 3,006,000 steps enjoying nature. Like she tells people, “You have to stay active mind and body. If not, you rot. You got to enjoy what God gives you. The fresh air in the outdoors has helped keep me well.”

At one time, Annie said she had completed her bucket list with all the places she had been and things she had done. She changed her mind and decided she still wanted to go fishing in Alaska and travel to Florida to walk on a beach looking for seashells.

A few weeks ago, Annie told a few friends sitting at a table in her church that she was leaving to go to Florida the next day. She needed a few days by herself. She was going to check another thing on her bucket list and walk a certain beach on her birthday looking for seashells. One of the men at the table stood up and walked over to Annie. He told her that was the same beach his wife loved to visit. He also said to her that was where he, their kids, and grandkids had gone to leave some of her ashes. He told Annie to say hi to her while she was there. As she stood there crying, Annie told him she would. She also told him she would bring him back a sea shell from that beach. 

Over the trip, one of her friends texted her several times to check on her. She had gotten there safely and enjoyed herself but was not finding any seashells. With only a half-day left before heading home, she ate lunch at a seafood restaurant. A woman came up to her, and they started talking. In their conversation, Annie told her she couldn’t find any seashells and the story of why she wanted to find one to take back home for her friend. The woman smiled and told her to go to a certain place on the beach, and she would see what she was looking for.

Annie finished her lunch and headed to where the lady had told her. She walked and walked. A little ocean kelp weed had washed up on the beach, but that was it. She still couldn’t find any seashells. She was about to give up and get ready to head back home when something caught her eye in the kelp. It was a kelp seed pod shaped like a heart. Annie picked it up and stood there crying, looking up to heaven. She talked to the man’s wife. Annie told her what a good man he was and that he and her family missed her. Then she said that she was taking this special heart-shaped seed pod back to him from her. Annie had found what she was looking for where the woman in the restaurant told her she would.

As Annie started to walk away, she looked down and saw something else in the kelp. She thought it was some kid’s ball they had lost, but it was another seed pod. To Annie, it was a sign that God wanted her to keep on rollin’ and had a lot more living to do. She got into her car and headed home. 

The Sunday after getting back, she got to church and went directly to her table of friends. The man stood to welcome her. Annie tried to tell him her amazing story without crying but couldn’t. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and tears came to the man’s eyes when she told him what had happened. Then she put the heart-shaped seed pod in his hand, and he hugged her. 

Those blessed to know Annie and call her a friend will tell you that Annie has a heart as big as the outdoors she loves. As the Cherokee people would say, “ageyn gvdodi equa adanvdo“ which means, “Annie is a “woman with a big heart.”

 

Grocery Shopping with My Best Friend

Posted on by Dave Barus
Just how fresh is the fish in the grocery store? I know one place, maybe more than one, where they are very fresh!

By Larry Whiteley

Have you been to the grocery store lately? I went with my wife the other day and was totally shocked. Usually, I don’t pay much attention to what she spends on groceries. Since it was just the two of us, I always figured it couldn’t cost too much. The grocery cart was not anywhere near full, and it was almost $200. It would have been a lot more, but they were out of some of the things she needed.

I thank the good lord for my morning coffee each day.

We would have also spent even more money than we did if I had been willing to pay $14 for a small bottle of pancake syrup that I used to like when it cost $8, or $12 for a box of granola bars I always took hunting and fishing with me when they cost $7. Those are only a few examples. Meat prices had gone up more than anything. The only thing I was looking for that had not increased in price was my favorite Guatemalan coffee beans that I grind myself and enjoy every morning. They had plenty of it, so I bought a bag, and I didn’t even need it. I told my wife to buy a bag or two every time she went grocery shopping as long as the price remained the same, and before they didn’t have any of it on the shelves anymore. She is more than willing to do that because she knows how cranky I get when I don’t have my coffee.

On the way home from the grocery store, I already had my coffee, but I was cranky anyway because of our grocery shopping experience. She just rolled her eyes and humored me as I went on about Washington politicians, government waste, supposed shortages, price gouging, disruptions in the global supply chain, adverse weather, rising fuel and energy prices, and a few other things I said about certain politicians that aren’t printable. I don’t know how some families make it. I don’t know how my wife made it listening to me go on about everything all the way home. I think she was glad we didn’t have to stop and get gas because that would have really set me off.

Since there weren’t that many groceries, it didn’t take very long for me to bring them into the house. I offered to help put them up, but she declined my help and told me to go cool off for a while. Well, that’s not exactly what she said but what she did say is not printable here either. I have a feeling she won’t want me to go grocery shopping with her again. I am also betting I will never know what she spends to feed us again. That is probably a good thing.

I went to my man cave, and she was glad I did. I was glad I did, too, because I was here, surrounded by my deer, duck, pheasant, turkey and fish mounts, that a brilliant idea came to me. To save my wife and me a lot of money, I needed to go hunting and fishing more! That way, I would bring home more fish and game to put in our freezer to help offset the cost of groceries. My kind of grocery shopping would be done outdoors in nature, rather than in a building surrounded by crowds of people pushing carts around and spending too much money.

A little more shopping in the woods and streams might just reduce our grocery bills, whaddya think?

I am retired and have accumulated a vast amount of the outdoor gear I would need. I reasoned that there really wouldn’t be much cost to do this kind of grocery shopping. The only cost would be a license and tags, plus gas to get where I was going. I could even stay out several days doing grocery shopping. My wife would really like that. I could just take my tent along and camp where I didn’t have to pay a fee. That would save on gas too.

As for food, I could bring the deer jerky and summer sausage I make for snacking. I could fry up fish from the freezer or some of what I caught for my meals. Grilling a deer steak would be really good too. I could also fry up potatoes since they aren’t costly. I could even boil up a pot of my Guatemalan coffee over a campfire. Isn’t this idea sounding good?

For my grocery shopping, I should be able to tag two deer and two turkey hunting. The turkeys won’t give us much meat, but they will be good in soups or cooked in my smoker or deep fryer. The deer I would skin and process myself to save money. It would mostly be made into venison burgers since my wife likes those. I enjoy the steaks, jerky and summer sausage. I like deer heart too. She definitely will not eat that.

As for more grocery shopping, there are ducks during the open season, and I should be able to bring home plenty. Maybe I can develop a good recipe for baked duck and wild rice she would like. I forgot about dove season. I might get her to try a grilled bacon-wrapped dove. Did I mention that I have to cook all the wild game at home because my wife won’t? That’s just another reason she will like this idea.

Smoked venison is among our favorite ways to enjoy the delicious wild bounty of Mother Nature.

She likes to eat fish, so she will definitely approve of grocery shopping via fishing. This is where the meat could really pile up in the freezer and save us money. If I can catch my limit of several fish species every day while shopping, can you imagine how many fish I would have in the freezer even if I make sure I don’t go over my possession limits? I can fry them, bake them, grill them, can them, and smoke them. I can also go grabbing and gigging for sucker fish. I love fried suckers, and so does my wife.

When the frogging season is open, I could go fishing during the day and get a limit of frogs at night. I love frog legs. I could even catch crawdads and boil them up. They say fried snake tastes like chicken, so I might even try that too. I don’t think I will be able to get her to try any of that. While I’m doing all my grocery shopping out there, I can also gather wild mushrooms, berries and nuts. I’m telling you, my idea of grocery shopping could really work.

In the little time I would be home and not out grocery shopping, I would care for our garden. We would also have a good supply of tomatoes, cucumbers, and other vegetables to go along with the fish and game and everything I bring home from my grocery shopping. This idea of mine is sounding better and better. Now all I need to do is convince my wife how much money I can save us with my kind of grocery shopping. Wish me luck on that.

Ticks the Season! It’s Turkey Time

Posted on by Dave Barus

Olympus Digital Camera, from the late Joe Forma photo collection

YES, that’s a dime! Blacklegged ticks are much smaller than common dog ticks. In their larval and nymphal stages, they are no bigger than a pinhead. Adult black-legged ticks are larger, about the size of a sesame seed (left to right: larva, nymph, adult male, adult female). Courtesy of CDC

By Bob Holzhei

With tick season just a few weeks away, outdoor folks – especially turkey hunters, are preparing to sit their butts down in the woods. It might be good to know about the tick prevention safety guide that has been developed by Brian Anderson, who is from Iron Mountain, MI., known as the Tick Terminator.

“The guide has been used by hundreds of safety directors, outdoor workers and enthusiasts across the country to help them learn and share new prevention ideas in the battle with ticks,” says Anderson.

A follow-up bulletin titled “The Hidden Cost of Lyme Disease” assists readers of the tick season which runs from March through November each year.

What is Lyme Disease? 

“Lyme disease is caused by the bacterium Borrelia burgdolferi and is transmitted to humans through the bite of black-legged ticks (deer ticks).  Symptoms include headache, brain fog, chills, fatigue, flu-like symptoms, neck stiffness, achy joints, bulls-eye rash including other rashes, facial palsy, heart palpitations, dizziness, vision changes, and sensitivity to light,” stated Anderson.

If left untreated the disease can spread to joints, heart and the nervous system.  It is estimated that the disease results in 300-400,000 new cases each year.

Early detection and treatment are important.  If diagnosed soon enough, within a few weeks of a bite, antibiotic treatment by an MD will be sufficient to combat the disease.  Allowing the disease to go untreated for months will lead to a chronic condition.  Many doctors treat patients early with antibiotics to be safe.  Lyme disease can take months in the body to show up positive on a test.

Where Does Lyme Disease Come From?

Ticks get Lyme disease by feeding on an infected animal, often a mouse or rodent, which is then passed on to the next host.  Using good repellants and checking for tick bites during the season is advised.

The Hidden Costs of Lyme Disease

The person infected with Lyme disease enjoys a normal active life.  Then suddenly overnight they become exhausted, can barely make it through a day of work, and can’t wait to get home to rest.  Often folks feel it’s just a temporary bug, which will pass.  Lyme disease is nicknamed, “the great imitator,” and the medical costs continue to rise.

“Unfortunately, many insurance companies do not recognize the disease, and therefore will not pay for it,” added Anderson.

Where Are Ticks Found?

Ticks are found in tall grasses and low-lying shrubs, preferring moist shaded areas.  They don’t jump, fly or fall out of trees.  They wait patiently to smell the odor of an animal or human walking by.  They then latch on and enjoy a 2–4-day, blood meal.  When temperatures rise above 32 degrees or warmer, the tick season has begun.  Ticks do not die off during the winter.  The small younger nymph ticks are the size of a poppy seed and are responsible for most Lyme disease cases. See the photo.

Preventing Lyme Disease

The use of Deet on the skin and Permethrin on clothes and gear was suggested by Anderson.

  1. Tuck in your pants into the socks!
  2. Wear light-colored pants to easily spot ticks!
  3. Walk on well-used paths and stay away from vegetation!
  4. Use 25-34% Deet on the skin.
  5. Treat shoes, socks, pants, and shirts with Permethrin.

After the Bite

Quick medical attention is advised by a physician that knows about tick-borne diseases.  The disease can be treated with antibiotics.  Early detection and treatment are stressed!

“If you keep the ticks off of you, you won’t get bit,” concluded Anderson.

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