Three’s Company…if you can keep up;)
As the three of us continued our walk down the ole’ skidder run I kept wondering where in the heck we were going. I yelled ahead a similar sentiment: “Hey, Bob! You must’ve walked back in here before, huh?” There was no answer. The three of us continued back into no-man’s land with my brother Bob leading the way. Trailing about 50 yards behind was Gage and I. Gage is one of Bob’s three sons (my nephew). Some might say that Gage and I lagged behind to hide our private conversations from our “lead scout,” but our lag was actually just our way of telling Bob to slow down. Our process of finding that just-right hunting spot was showing its success once again. All of a sudden we came upon an area that elicited an above average amount of deer sign. But, not just deer sign – buck sign, too. The deer sign was fresh and the buck sign was stale – a perfect spot to lock into the GPS during our annual May scouting session. Although I had a pretty good idea of what to look for when scouting for a deer hunting spot, I asked my brother, “So what made you trek back here and find this spot?” He pointed at the terrain and mentioned the transition between one area and another that created a pinch-point. He reminded me that not all pinch-points are “hunt-able.” Because I love to talk about this, especially with Gage in the mix of things, I asked that he explain himself. I think Bob realized his explanation gave all of us a chance to rest our legs before trekking into another no-man’s land.
As an outfitter and guide in Michigan’s eastern UP, the challenge of maintaining viable deer hunting spots is always present. Some of our challenges are easily met and some continue to be just that – a challenge. I have come to realize, though, that challenges are nothing more than an opportunity for success. At the end of our scouting escapade, we always put together a spreadsheet with all the tidbits and details from each spot. Thus, begins the work moving forward…cataloging our year-round scouting information from each of these spots. I can’t remember a trip to the UP where I didn’t stop and check a few of our “hot spots” to decide if they’re worth keeping for the fall hunting season, or if it’s time to delete them from our spreadsheet. Last year was not unlike a few within the past 25+ years. The deer sign was not as prevalent as we had hoped. It was obvious the previous winter was a tough one on the deer herd. Scouting trips are always a nostalgic and meaningful stay at camp. They give us a chance to review what we were seeing out in the bush…or sometimes the lack thereof. As Gage reiterates from year to year, “It separates the pretenders from the contenders, and we ain’t pretending!”
As we mold our spreadsheet over the course of several months, our notes affirm the importance of keeping current and paying attention to all details. Whether we notice a lull in deer sign/increased presence of wolf sign or a change in local food source, etc., we realize the significance of year 'round scouting. As an example, we once hunted an area where deer sign was prevalent. It was a picturesque area hidden from the world, so to speak. It hosted all the components of a great deer and bear hunting spot. For bear, there was plenty of water, including a huge beaver pond, and as a bonus, a pair of nesting swans for viewing pleasure. For deer, a lot of pinch-points from bedding area to feeding areas were interspersed throughout. We decided to go back to that area which had been absent on our spreadsheet. What we found was a completely dry beaver pond, lack of game sign…and the nesting swans were gone! “Son of a gun…I ain’t promoting a hunt spot without eye candy!” I thought to myself. A wolf pack was not what we’d expected for our viewing pleasure…no offense intended.
Last year we had a few people that were successful early in their hunt – tagged out early. Usually, these hunters want to know what activity is available for the remainder of their stay. It is at that time that I grin from ear-to-ear and say, “You can tag along with me while I’m baiting and checking hunting spots if you want.” Rarely do we hear no for an answer. That activity begins each day once breakfast has finished. It usually concludes four or five hours later…exhausted, but exhilarated. I remember one hunter/client asking me why I was always checking my smart phone. “Can’t your emails wait ‘til you get back to camp?” he asked. I reminded him we have hunters out there that need an available flow of communications with their guide. I was simply checking for texts and maybe a phone call. As we drove and then walked from one area to another, carrying bait, a backpack with the necessities, etc….my ‘companion guide’ began to understand the aspect of scouting just a wee bit better. I noticed his questions were less and his comments were more. Before we had departed camp he noticed I had a backup supply of clothes and boots. 'Show n tell' of my backpack contents were not just hunt-related items, but items like bottled water, a couple energy bars, a hatchet, a small first aid kit, extra rope, tape, cell phone battery, flashlight, etc. We were back at camp and he offered some good advice…an added item or two for backpack content consideration, etc. He did notice one thing that was a surprise: trail cameras are a wonderful tool on one hand and a pain in the rear end on the other. He noticed keeping tabs on trail cameras at two to three dozen hunting spots poses a challenge all by itself. My explanation of what the trail cam can do for us seemed to make sense to him. “A guide or hunter’s success can live and die by the addiction that they offer,” I told him. “They aren’t a substitute for good ole’ fashioned scouting.” They are, however, a wonderful tool that helps manage our precious time out there…out in the woods.
The conclusion of our hunting season brings another challenge to our activity list – collecting and storing our hunting gear, namely hunting blinds, tree stands, etc. Removing two dozen ground blinds and half as many ladder stands can bring exhaustion to most anyone. However, proper time management can lead to an improved ‘next season’. It reminds me of performing exit interviews to employees that voluntarily leave employment with a company. Before we pack up and leave we always take time to post-scout each area. This will help us with preliminary judgment for stand placement next year. Time is precious! Besides, the dishes are piled up back at camp and dinner must be ready when the hunters return from the woods…hopefully, with a story to tell and a blood trail to follow. This is where the real fun begins! Some of the contents of the backpack are changed out, along with everyone in camp wanting to be a part of the action. All good!
As with every year, the snow will melt. Boots-on-the-ground scouting will start up again. My brother, nephew and I will redo our spreadsheet back at camp, having in mind the type of hunters we think will appreciate each spot. Very few spots are a quick walk. Most are well off the beaten path. Some are quite a hike. I wouldn’t hesitate to put my best friend in any of these sites, or sit there myself with high expectations, nonetheless. The UP offers a vast wilderness that cannot be compared to anything “below da’ bridge.” It can test the patience level of the best of hunters and at the same time reward the person who decides to fully “plug in” to what is at their beck and call. Let the memories begin.By Tom Lounsbury.
You Ever Get That Feeling…?
The spreadsheet showed a busy schedule just around the corner as several small groups of hunters booked with us for the upcoming season. The other spreadsheet showed what was behind us – year-round scouting results. Our scouting in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula usually begins in early May. You see, we wait until the snow melts in the heavy timber, but not too late to allow for a full blown black fly and mosquito hatch. After ‘the hatch,’ the next tolerable field work depends on weather patterns, usually sometime in the later part of July. I remember a number of years ago when I completed scouting according to my schedule and not ‘the call of the wild.’ I swear I can still feel a black fly gnawing at my eye brow. Wait a bit longer and the black flies make way to the wood ticks. Oh joy! Anyway, our scouting results get cataloged on a spreadsheet. This tabulation has proved very valuable throughout the years. After all, Sergeant Friday would approve of our method….“Just the facts…”
As I made my third trek down what could be the start of a foot path, I knew this bear hunt spot would be a dandy. It had all the makings of success: far away from any human activity, a nice water source on one side, a swale on the other and a beautiful down-wind approach for the hunter. As I approached my potential hunting spot, I could see that the bait was hit. I emptied the bait from the small bucket into the crevasse under the large log pile. The logs were repositioned. Then off came the backpack. It was time for a scent reapplication and then a realization that I should’ve checked the trail cam beforehand. I resisted handling the trail cam, making a mental note of reversing my order of application the following day. Absent of a picture giving me affirmation of a good spot, I noticed fresh bear scat again. Good enough. The next trip back I would add a portable blind to my carry. I meandered my way out through a rough marked trail from the bait to a pipeline. I decided to exit from the wooded terrain onto the pipeline about twenty yards south of the entrance. I skirted a small raspberry hedge and noticed more bear scat. This sign was probably a few weeks earlier since the berries had been absent that same time period. My thoughts were, “Cool! I’ll pick up where Mother Nature left off.” With a hefty baiting schedule ahead of me, I began my trek back to the vehicle. I was no more than a couple hundred yards from that has-been berry patch and noticed a fresh lay of canine scat…right in my newfound foot trail. My senses went quickly from looking around to see what (not who) was watching. With a ‘coast is clear’ lift from my shoulders and the hair relaxing on the back of my neck, I flicked the scat a few yards off my trail and continued with my brisk walk. Down the pipeline I continued, making a mental note of what I carried in my backpack. I remembered from last year the ramifications of not hydrating myself often enough during the bear baiting, so retrieving a water bottle was in order. Besides, my glasses were just about glazed over from sweat and needed a fresh rinsing, not to mention I didn’t need to give my brother any reason to question my ability to recognize the difference between wolf and coyote scat.
The sun in the sky coincided with the clock in my pickup and about a dozen miles later I was back at camp. A long look out over the lake proved a better day to be fishing than carrying bear bait to all those spots on the spreadsheet. The neighbor had it right. He was filleting a mess of fish caught earlier that day. He knew what my question would be so he quickly asked, “Did you notice the two pair of nesting swans out front?” Damn if he wasn’t rubbing salt in the blisters on my feet. Then he suggested I stunk. I smiled against his compliment and left to change out my baiting clothes before they became adulterated with late summertime camp smells. Running the small boat and outboard out to the hotspot would have to wait. I once ran the idea past my brother of baiting up a remote spot across the lake. I told him I could troll for dinner on the way over and back, but he didn’t seem to think I could separate the two outdoor activities from each other. (Fishing and bear baiting!) He mentioned the time I brought the famous Pocket Fisherman on a deer hunting trip. The idea was to tie a weighted cloth on the end of the line, saturating it with buck lure and casting it out to a nearby scrape line. You know the rest of the story.
The next day arrived in style and without an alarm. I guess keeping myself hydrated while watching Detroit Tigers baseball has its delayed downfall. After changing back to my bear baiting formal wear and loading the pickup with containers of Mother Nature’s replacement, I was off and running. One thing I’ve learned from others is that bear baiting is an individualized sport. Most everyone has a common base of what works best and then customization from that point. I guess I’m no different. Changing the order of which spots get baited first, etc., is something that I like to do to mix it up a bit. My baiting timeline remains relatively the same, with me eating first, of course. As I drove two miles to the end of a two-track, I noticed no other tire tracks but my own. As I backed my pickup into the same spot, aligning my mirror with the small hemlock tree, I began to think about the posturing taking place back on the pipeline. Like it was scripted, I found another canine scat pile in the same place as the day before. I was determined to defeat the competition, therefore, I kicked the pile aside and one upped him, leaving my own scat behind, in the exact same spot. As the entry into the woods became more apparent each day, I found a spot about a hundred yards away from the bait that gave me a heads up of that area. Again, the bait site was disturbed. I approached to find the morsels completely gone. My memory bank told me to swap out the SD card in the trail cam first. I again baited and “in-scent-ivized” the immediate area. Heading east, I stopped to brush in the popup blind. I knew the next day I would be baiting and carrying in a portable chair. Never waste a trip.
As I arrived where the woods meet the pipeline, I stopped to catch a glance of the open area. Something said, “You are not alone.” I looked and looked, but nothing. My next move was to step over a small mud hole, remembering that I stepped in it on my way into the woods. I looked down and saw a fresh imprint inside my own boot print from not more than half an hour earlier. I thought to myself, “Where there is one…” By the time I arrived back to my vehicle I had developed a game plan for this particular bear bait. It was almost like I was trying to see if the local bear would help me get rid of the gang-stas. After supper and during the Tiger game I remembered to check the swapped out SD cards. What was thought to be a great bear hunting spot proved otherwise. As I viewed all of the pics at the spot I called “Pipeline” it was obvious I was losing the posturing battle. Mr. Black Bear wasn’t helping either. We were both giving in to the neighborhood bullies. The following day, it was scat for scat as my own was displaced, advantage canine. I continued my baiting routine two more times. That last day I retrieved my popup blind and chair. On my walk back to the vehicle, there it was again in the same spot. More scat! ‘Checkmate’ – they win. When I returned to my vehicle, I sat there with the printout of my scouting spreadsheet. My eyes scrolled down to the “Pipeline” hunt spot. I noticed plenty of data pointing to a beautiful hunting spot, noting a nice natural shooting lane, nice downwind approach, etc. However, my scouting data noted otherwise. In the spirit of “just the facts,” I drew a line through Pipeline. Hunter: 0, Canis lupus (wolf): 1.By Tom Lounsbury.
Said the deer: “Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?”
In the midst of a busy lifestyle…time is of the essence. I won’t argue that point because most people don’t have time to listen anyway. But as I listened to a couple of my hunting buddies talk about driving up north a day or two before the start of their season with bait-in-hand…I must say, “really?” You see, I rode up with them a few years’ back. Every couple of miles I heard a noise come from one of their cell phones. Then the other’s cell phone must have rung a half dozen times. I finally spoke my mind and asked if this was all work-related or whether they simply “can’t miss communications from the fam?” As it turned out, almost all of the above was work-related, or at least violated our prior agreement to unplug from down below before heading up (north, that is). In years past, our northern hunting trip began months before the season started. In fact, it began as soon as the snow melted but before the black flies and mosquitoes hatched. Usually in early May we’d head up north and scout our hunting areas. This included valuable time back at camp talking about passing years with the promise to keep our tradition moving forward. Waxing nostalgic, I “perspectivized” the whole deer hunting process, comparing it to a great relationship – one that’s revered as a year-round commitment and not just that special something that comes off the shelf in the eleventh hour. Our 3 ½ hour northbound road trip included our usual stops to refuel our tanks and stomachs with even our snack choices being predictable. All aspects of our journey revealed our “creature of habit” mentality. This was even evident in our efforts to maintain deer camp so it was in the same order when we left as it was when we arrived. We didn’t want a surprise at camp or at our hunting spots. And of course, everyone had their place in camp, from what bed each person slept in, specific chores, etc. There was no need for names on coffee cups – you always knew which cup was yours despite the array of mismatched cups. That first cup of coffee gave us a sort of “welcome back to camp” feeling. It was a time when camp seniority meant a little something, like getting your cup refilled by the greenhorn without being asked. One year someone forgot to bring the coffee to camp. As Frank Barone from Everybody Loves Raymond would say… “Holy crap!” Don’t ask what was really said before the greenhorn drove 10 miles to the nearest store to pay twice as much for the same amount. It was something we enjoyed discussing year after year. I can still remember my first time going up north with the veterans. For me, deer hunting took on a whole new persona. I remember having a long list of questions leading up to the northern adventure that I would ask the soon-to-be former greenhorn. His response was, “Don’t worry about it.” It all soon became crystal clear during one of our summer “let’s check out the hunting spots” trips. By the end of that long weekend, the deer hunting trip had already played out in my mind; I could hardly wait until November. My mental check list of hunting clothes, gun, ammunition, etc. were reviewed often. In other words, there was no chance I was going to forget the coffee! Greenhorn or not, that re-told story is going to hang over the other guy’s head for a long time if I have anything to say about it. But damn it, I had to borrow a pair of insulated boots that first year – live and learn! There were years we tagged out and years in which deer were downright sparse. We always finished the season with the same feeling…a sense of being refreshed, renewed and “all is good.” The higher seniority guys (I did not say old) made sure the cabin was properly winterized. They also made sure I mopped the floor properly, washed up all of the dishes and set out the mouse bait. I found out there was also a proper way of hanging the coffee cups. Yes, there was even a certain order in which they were to be hung. Later I think I realized the cups may represent who was in camp that year. It solidified my realization that little things mattered. Little things sometimes represented big things. For a camp that allowed a stiff draft through the single-paned windows, especially when the wind was straight out of the north, it was treated with utmost respect. After all, our coffee cups were hanging in there. …Back to the cell phone ringing in one guy’s ear and the texting audible in the other’s. As we approached the Mackinac Bridge northbound, we noticed a pretty sizeable lineup at all the toll booths. My feeling was “Oh, well,” but it was obvious my two hunting companions felt differently. I looked outside my window in the adjacent line noticing a travel trailer being pulled dressed in full camouflage with a spray-painted portrait of Bullwinkle on the side. It seemed typical that time of year, causing me to alert the other two to take a look. They did without reply…one with the cell phone affixed to his ear. When we got to the toll booth I noticed the employee was the same one that took our money this past summer. After we refueled at the Holiday gas station, we were on our way with another hour’s drive to go. That feeling in my gut always intensified as we got closer to camp, something that those distracted with the other details of life just don’t get. Was the camp the same as we left it? I noticed the coffee cups were still in the drying rack near the kitchen sink and that small change irritated me. Soon the draft coming through a window had me whining. It wasn’t long before we’d unpacked all our essentials and were ready to head out to our hunting spots to give them a once-over before the opener. I remember that same feeling, that sense of anxiety that would intensify as we drove closer to where they would drop me off. There was a turnout there, but they drove down the two-track further before I grabbed my backpack and a bit of deer feed to hit my site. After a 20 minute walk, a few flushed partridge, a new buck rub and no sign of anyone else hunting my area, I arrived to find my spot just as I’d imagined it to be. A couple rounds of Pre-scouting gave me confidence that the deer sign supported a reason for the spot selection and I was not disappointed. And hopefully, if another person had happened upon my spot, their hunter etiquette would kick into full gear and they’d move onto another area. But then again, back-up spots are there for a reason, too. If nothing else, they provide a better vantage point for that off-wind day of hunting versus blowing your “A” spot. Both spots offered a pinch-point, an area where deer naturally travel from one terrain to another. This is definitely not a “feed them and they will come” method, but rather a way of “spreading a little love” to their daily travels. And in the end, said my dear, “And I’ll fix you a little venison to eat.” Welcome home, cowboy.
By Tom Lounsbury.
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When it comes to raffles, I have never had much luck and whenever I purchase a ticket, I automatically assume I’m helping a good cause, and that is the end of that. As they say, if you don’t at least try, you will never win anything. My name did get drawn for a 12 ga Remington Express shotgun at a Ducks Unlimited Banquet, but that was back in 1986, and nothing occurred from then on, after purchasing countless raffle tickets. Maybe the 2020 Michigan Elk Lottery was a turning point. Call it what you will, I looked at it on the order of simply buying another raffle ticket every year and wasn’t expecting much. After 36 years of dedication in annually “applying”, I was already quite used to rejection on the matter. Then that memorable day in June 2020 happened, which completely shocked (being “stunned” is too mild a definition) me, when I went online and discovered I had been drawn for an antlerless Michigan elk tag, a longtime dream come true, and eventually bagging a dandy cow elk was frosting on the cake! Since then, I have won a “home defense” shotgun at a Friends of the NRA Banquet and a .22 rifle at a Pheasants Forever Banquet, and yep, folks, I was completely stunned both times. It was near the end of March this year when I stopped by at the Cass City Do it Best Hardware Store to purchase all my hunting and fishing licenses (and ORV stickers as well), and I ran into Jeff Wallace, who is the President of the Cass City Gun Club. Jeff was there dropping off raffle tickets for the store to sell, which entailed a 20 ga Winchester “turkey” shotgun, which was purchased through the store, and it was present behind the counter to look at. Only 100 tickets at $10 each were being sold, and I didn’t hesitate to purchase one, knowing full well I didn’t stand a chance. As I said, I do like to support good causes. The Cass City Gun Club (CCGC) has been around for about 70 years, and I have had some fine times doing shooting activities there. They have regularly put on Hunter Safety Classes ever since it became required, and my 3 sons received their Hunter Safety Certificates there (and so did I, when I needed one to go hunting in Colorado – I really had a great time taking the class with kids). During recent times, the CCGC has been regularly improving their grounds which entails 40 acres, and now has well-constructed trap, skeet, pistol and rifle ranges. The rifle range is a real dandy offering targets at 50, 100, 200 and even an amazing 365 yards. It also has a raised and spacious shooting platform which allows rifle practice from above! It is open to the public, but non-members must be accompanied by a member for any shooting activities. There is also an annual free youth day each summer, and a new activity is rimfire shooting on the rifle range for both pistol and rifle, which begins the first Thursday in May, and is on every Thursday during the summer, which has really piqued my interest! Yep, folks, I had no problem buying that raffle ticket to support a good cause. When the phone rang one evening last week, I was glad I was sitting down, because Jeff Wallace called to inform me my raffle ticket had been drawn for the turkey gun. It didn’t take me long to get to Cass City Do it Best Hardware the following morning and receive my prize. It is a pump-action 20 ga (3 inch) Winchester Model SXP “Long Beard” that has been well designed by those in the know about turkey hunting. Featuring a chrome-lined chamber and bore, its 24-inch barrel features an external fluted, extra full “Long Beard” turkey choke tube. The composite stock features a handy pistol grip, and it, including the barrel, is externally coated in the new Mossy Oak DNA camouflage. This is a shotgun designed to handle a rugged and often wet environment (I have had some great turkey hunting opportunities during rainstorms as the birds don’t seem to mind such at all) and weighs in at less than 7 pounds. It is not a bad piece at all for “running and gunning” for turkeys. Turkey guns are designed to be aimed like a rifle, with this one featuring Truglo fiber optic sights attached to the vent rib, and the aluminum alloy receiver (which is strong and durable with less weight than steel) is drilled and tapped for adding optics (an extra cheek pad is included to match the height for using optics). The Inflex Technology recoil pad has additional inserts to extend the stock if needed, however everything fits me perfectly as is. This shotgun is also easy to assemble and disassemble, the trigger unit is also easy to remove for cleaning (the large trigger guard works fine with gloves), and the safety button can be switched around for right or left-handers. The shotgun comes with the “duck-plug” already installed in the 4-round magazine to limit overall shell capacity to 3, which works for me in most hunting avenues anyway. With the Michigan spring turkey season fast approaching, I put a priority in properly patterning this new shotgun and acclimating myself to all its handling characteristics on my backyard shooting range (yep, folks, I was just like a kid with a new toy). It is easy to load, and unloading is a breeze by simply pushing the shell-stop down and the shell pops out into your hand. Having to rack out shells to unload is not necessary, something I appreciate. I had the Allen wrenches which came with the shotgun to adjust the sights in my pocket, because I felt tweaking matters would be required, but such wasn’t the case at all. The shotgun obviously came from the factory ready to hit right on point of aim. A lot went into designing everything, because the chrome-lined barrel is also back-bored, which means the bore size is larger than normal specs, which prevents friction with the wad and distortion of the pellets going down the barrel, for creating denser patterns. Combine all that with an extra full choke, and you can expect amazing results, which I sure did! I was using standard bullseye targets for the initial sight-in/patterning and was indeed impressed. I was using more economical Winchester 2 ¾ inch, Super X shells with only 7/8 ounce of lead number sixes, and at 10 yards, the center of the bullseye was taken right out with a hole the size of a tennis ball! At 20 yards, it was the size of a softball, and 30 yards the size of a volleyball, and obviously, this load will work to that range. I stopped at that point, because I want to do some further testing using “turkey” paper targets, and I’m curious as to how far this 20 ga shotgun can reach out effectively, especially with its preferred (and more expensive) turkey ammo yet to be discovered. And yep, folks, you can easily miss a gobbler’s head/neck area at the closer ranges with this shotgun if you don’t use pinpoint accuracy. There is a reason for using rifle-type sights on a shotgun such as this. I look upon smoothbore shotguns as being very versatile hunting tools, and although this handy piece is classified as a “turkey gun”, I plan on getting a modified choke tube for small game hunting and a rifled choke tube for using slugs for deer hunting. To me, it begs to be used for other avenues. I appreciate the Winchester SXP “Longbeard” line of shotguns, because a portion of the sales is donated to the National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF) which is celebrating its 50-year anniversary this year. NWTF has played and continues to play, a very important role in the wild turkey becoming a very successful conservation story. I have attended numerous NWTF fundraising banquets over the years, and yep, I’ve enjoyed them all and have bought my fair share of raffle tickets, because it was for a good cause with always the chance of winning something. My being drawn during the recent CCGC gun raffle for a superb shotgun is proof positive the “luck of the draw” can become a reality, despite the odds!
.."Hearing that early morning gobble is a big reason I choose to turkey hunt each year"... By: Tom Lounsbury. With April finally arriving, I’m in the preparation mode for the impending spring turkey season, which includes getting reacquainted with my preferred shotguns. The title “Turkey Gun” conjures up a variety images in the minds of turkey hunters today. What seems popular is a compact and camouflaged shotgun which is equipped with a very tight-patterning screw-in choke tube. It will often be a 3-inch or 3 and half inch 12 ga “Magnum”, or even a behemoth 10 ga using 3 and half inch shells for the ultimate performance and reach to put very tough and tenacious gobblers down for the count. The typical turkey shotgun often features a sling for allowing hands to be free while roving and calling, or when a lucky hunter must carry a heavy bird out of the woods. Specialized “turkey” shotshells today are filled with a copious amount of shot to put as many pellets on the target as possible, and when you combine this fact with the tighter constriction of typical turkey-chokes, the result is a very long shot-string, which in the world of turkey hunting, isn’t a bad thing. The reality is, we aren’t talking wing shooting here, and the focus is placing the shot pattern in the neck/head area of a usually stationary bird on the ground. My aiming point is where flesh and feathers join on the neck, just below the head, thereby fully utilizing the entire pattern. So it is more like shooting a single projectile instead of a wide pattern, at least at the closer ranges. For this reason a turkey shotgun is often equipped with rifle-type sights, including low power optics and electronic “red-dots”, for precise shot placement, as well as there are quality sights available for attaching to vent ribs, which will certainly do the trick. Without question, the turkey shotgun and the specialized loads it uses is a continually evolving process which pertains to the growing popularity of the wild turkey. Personally, I’ve only hunted wild turkeys in Michigan, and I’ve been at it for more than 50 years. This has allowed me to witness the continual evolution of the gear and techniques which have developed while the wild turkey has expanded its numbers and range, not only in Michigan, but nationwide as well, including in places where it was never in before such as Hawaii. The wild turkey in America is, without question, a very successful conservation story and in Michigan today, you don’t have to travel far to find good turkey hunting opportunities. When I first started spring turkey hunting during the late 1960’s, the options weren’t nearly as good. I was very fortunate to have been drawn for a limited hunt in northern Michigan and had no idea at all of what to expect. My turkey call had to be special ordered at the local hardware store because none were stocked on the shelves, and the shotgun I used was my Granddad’s old 12 ga “Auto-Five” Browning. The load I opted for was high-brass number twos, which was legal back then, and did a good job on waterfowl and red fox, so I assumed it was fine for wild turkeys. I didn’t have an opportunity to bag a gobbler on that hunt, but I became totally smitten with spring turkey hunting because it is a unique and addictive atmosphere. During the 1970’s, more spring turkey hunting opportunities developed in northern Michigan, and I was often lucky in the draw and my skill began to improve during a continual learning process, as well as turkey calls could be found on store shelves. Besides my Granddad’s Browning, I also used a 12 ga side by side double barrel featuring modified and full chokes, and a 12 ga Model 37 Ithaca pump with a 30-inch full choke barrel. All three shotguns use 2 and three-quarter inch shells and quickly became my favorite turkey guns for the next 25 years. They did their part if I did mine, and I never had a maneuverability problem with lengthy barrels, as I appreciate a long sighting radius. Except for the double-barrel, which I painted olive drab, the other shotguns have a dull matte wood/blue finish which I found doesn’t alert and scare off any turkeys. I never used a 3-inch magnum shell for turkeys until I acquired a 12 ga Remington 870 Express 30 years ago. It also featured the newly developed screw-in choke tubes which are truly a versatile blessing for avid shotgunners today. One thing I discovered right away is that each shotgun is an individual and has a preference for specific shot-sizes and even brands when you pattern them. So preseason patterning is an annual affair for me, even though I already know how each shotgun patterns with certain loads, because I want to know I’m still in tune, which is a very important part of turkey hunting. It is as important to me as sighting in a long used deer gun before each season, and knowing all is functioning well, including my shooting eye. There are also new turkey loads continually coming out which I enjoy testing, and trust me, folks, patterns do change with new loads. I also practice “switch-hitting”, because wild gobblers don’t always come in at the anticipated angle. Being right-handed, I’ve had cagey gobblers come in silent from behind me on my right side, and by ever so slowly switching the shotgun to my left shoulder, they were toast… well, maybe anyway, nothing is for sure in the hunting arena. Doing this effectively requires practice, and in my case, when I partially close my dominant right eye, my left eye takes over. I typically do the switch-hitting practice with economical shotgun loads because my goal is simply to hone this ability/skill, especially when some “turkey” loads cost as much as $10 each. A favorite turkey gun I use frequently today is a Remington Spartan over and under 12 ga in 3-inch magnum which I had custom camouflage-painted, and when it is choked standard full and full (which has reach but is more forgiving than “super-full” chokes), it offers two quick shots, and with sufficient patterns to 35 yards. It is also easy to quickly load or unload in the field. Then there is my vintage (1936) 12 ga Winchester Model 97 pump shotgun equipped with a 30-inch, full choke barrel, which offers wonderful patterns and reach using (2 ¾ inch) lead number fives. I used it two years ago to bag my largest spring gobbler ever, which dropped on the spot with a headshot at 28 yards. Michigan spring turkey hunting opportunities began to really pick up in the 1980’s and better yet during the 1990’s, including closer to home in my Thumb area. It was during the Thumb’s first turkey season when my sons Jake and Josh were just getting into hunting and lucked out on the draw. By that time nothing larger than number four birdshot could be used for turkeys, which wasn’t a bad thing in my mind. It was while patterning my sons’ 20 ga shotguns that I became really impressed with this smaller bore for turkeys. Both pumps (one a Mossberg 500, the other a Remington 870) proved to be very effective turkey-getters out to 30 yards and even slightly beyond, which works for me. I often use a 20 ga today for turkey hunting because I appreciate the lighter weight and recoil, and I’ve taken enough turkeys with this smaller bore to know it is fully up to the task. The longest kill-shot I’ve ever made on a wild turkey with any shotgun is 32 yards, with the remainder being taken at well under 30 yards, because I’m not into long range “turkey shoots” at all. However, the continual evolution of turkey ammunition has been increasing the range, and in some cases, dramatically so. An example is Federal’s new Heavyweight TSS turkey loads which use a denser than lead tungsten alloy, a special Flex Wad and smaller shot sizes, to achieve denser patterns at longer ranges. Federal offers a .410 TSS turkey load which is lethal on gobblers to 40 yards, and the 12 ga version reaches out a tad further. A point in fact about “turkey guns” though, is a girl youth hunter who used a single-shot H&R .410 stoked with regular lead number sixes to knock a gobbler spurs-up at just under 20 yards, thanks to the calling efforts of her grandfather. The big gobbler never knew what hit him, and to me, this scene is what turkey hunting is all about. All firearms for hunting require the user to understand any limitations and to stay within them before touching the trigger. So the reality of what can be determined a turkey gun is whatever the hunter has available and also what he or she is comfortable with. There is certainly nothing wrong with today’s specialized turkey guns because they are top performers, and the “turkey” ammunition is the best I’ve ever seen. It is just that spring turkey hunting to me is the art of calling gobblers in close as possible and making the shot, according to whatever shotgun is being used, a done deal.
Spring sucker fishing is a very popular outdoor pastime in Michigan, which includes various techniques such as with hook and line, spearing (including bowfishing with archery tackle) and netting. In my agricultural Thumb area featuring countless drainages, I grew up with “sucker-spearing”, and it is a time- steeped pastime I much enjoy, and freshly cooked sucker is seasonal flavor I yearn for. For years, sucker-spearing had established seasons, typically set in April with various opening days occurring on different dates according to different zones in Michigan, which I had a problem with, because in my locality, it often didn’t occur until mid-April. There were several times when I ventured out on the opener, the peak sucker run had already taken place, making for slim pickings. Not that many years ago, sucker spearing became open all year, which I look upon as a good thing. Suckers don’t look at any calendars, and everything depends upon the spring runoff with regards to water temperature. A warm (somewhat anyway according to springtime) rain will cause the suckers a day or two later to venture in from the lake and up the various drainages in order to spawn. While I had heard about netting suckers with large dip nets, I had never partaken of this activity until I received an invitation over 20 years ago from my good friend, the late Tom Talaski Sr, whose family farm is located close to the small burg of Rapson, near the tip of the Thumb and in the middle of rivers, streams and drainages. Tom’s 12 children (7 boys and 5 girls) grew up in the spring sucker spearing atmosphere, and as the children grew up and started families of their own, he decided to create a pastime involving the entire family, and friends as well, in a celebratory and holiday atmosphere involving spring sucker fishing. He realized that his farm-orientated large family was well into working cohesively together, and dip netting for suckers, which requires teamwork, became an obvious priority. This required research by Tom and his sons on how to create a 9 feet by 9 feet (the legal maximum size) dip net, and where to locate the materials for constructing such, because at the time, none were available on the market. They located a source for the netting, but it was a trial-and-error effort figuring out the metal crosspieces. The first attempt was using the curved bars (aka teeth) off an antique hay dump-rake, but such proved to be too rigid, and offered no flexibility. It was eventually discovered that spring steel sewer rods were a perfect choice which offered the necessary strength and flexibility that allowed the net to form the perfect pouch to hold many suckers when lifting them up out of the water. I have witnessed when so many suckers were in a Talaski dip net, that small, long- handled dip nets had to be used to scoop out individual suckers in order to lighten the load to be able to pull the remainder up with helping hands on the rope. Yep, folks, it can be quite a load if all goes well. Large dip nets of this nature remind me of the same concept as the much smaller “umbrella drop nets” which are used to catch minnows and crayfish to be used as bait. The Talaski family clan uses two nets a bit apart (and sometimes on opposite sides of a bridge) which are dropped off in unison from the many bridges located on their seasonal route. The large nets are attached to long and stout ropes, and on command, the nets are quickly raised up out of the water in the hopes they contain suckers. It is a moment of anticipation and all who are present are attentively watching to see what the nets may contain. Sometimes they are empty, sometimes have only a sucker or two, and sometimes it can be extremely exciting for all, with a motherload of fish. After two decades of joining this family for their springtime sucker fishing celebrations, I have witnessed the little kids present growing up and becoming parents themselves, and in turn, bringing their kids. Involving children during this annual gathering has always been a priority, and it is typically held on a Saturday when kids can attend and enjoy all the fun without missing school. One thing I discovered right away is that you never go hungry during this special family gathering. At each bridge stop, the food comes out for all to enjoy. Cookies, cheese, crackers, hot soup and cocoa, with a special delight being smoked jerky, hunter sausage and fish from the Talaski smokehouse. The smokehouse itself is a time-steeped Talaski family tradition which was started by Tom Talaski Sr and is now proudly managed by his son Pat who now resides at the family homestead just north of Rapson. When I first joined the Talaski family “sucker festival”, the start date for dip netting suckers was always on April first. And like the other scheduled sucker openers, it wasn’t always prime time, depending upon the fickle spring weather. However, this good natured family sure did enjoy “April Fools’ Day” with the usual pranks taking place. During this time, no matter what day of the week the date fell on, the nets were ready to go, and unfortunately kids wishing to attend during a weekday had to play hooky. The dip netting (aka hand netting) season now runs from March 1 to May 31, which allows easier scheduling to involve children. This year the Talaski family, including some from other parts of the state, would get together last Saturday on April Fool’s Day, and of course the good- natured pranks would once again come into play. After a nighttime thunderstorm, the morning would dawn with a bright April sun and clear blue skies, and in no time, our long caravan of vehicles were headed out. At the first bridge stop, it was readily apparent that the rain during the night combined with the typical runoff had caused the river to overflow its banks, with the water level reaching all the way up to the bottom of the bridge. Still, the attempt was made to net suckers in the deep and murky water, but to no avail. Pulling the nets back in against a strong current turned into a genuine tug-of-war contest requiring extra hands, which are always ready with this crew. A very unique thing happened at the second bridge while we were waiting to pull the nets up for a look-see. A hawk with a duck in its talons flew past just above our heads, and then lost its grip on the duck, which plopped into the water and disappeared. The hawk hovered for a couple seconds above where the duck had dropped in, and then flew away. The male wood duck, briefly popped back up, looked around, and dove out of sight, never to be seen again. I’m certain he swam to safety from “eyes in the sky” by going under the bridge. It was while the hawk was very briefly hovering about 20 feet away in front of us, I determined by its barred markings on its back, wings and tail, and medium stature that it might be a Cooper’s hawk, but on second thought, it could have also been a similar sized peregrine falcon, which is also known to be called a “duck hawk” for targeting its favorite prey. Be that as it may, it was an exciting moment in nature shared by all present. We would stop and try netting suckers at several “tip of the Thumb bridges”, with all featuring murky and turbulent waters, and no suckers. Except for the very last bridge, when a very large female white sucker, her belly heavily swollen with eggs, was netted. This was an exciting moment for the kids, who all took time to admire the beautiful fish. This was also a good sign that the peak run was, well, maybe, about to begin sometime soon, pending the ongoing fickle weather of course. Female suckers are typically the first to venture in from the big lake, and soon joined in by the males. The most common sucker venturing into the Thumb is the white sucker. However in the tip of the Thumb, a very beautiful sucker can be found, especially in rivers and streams with rocky bottoms. The Talaski clan always refers to these suckers as being “red sides”, and their technical name is long-nosed sucker, and it is also commonly referred to as a sturgeon sucker, due to its longer snout. It has smaller scales than other sucker species, beautiful bright red sides and loves cold northern waters, and can even be found in Russia where it is known as the Siberian sucker. I was with the Talaski family a couple springs ago, and most suckers netted were gorgeous “red sides”. One thing is for certain, I’m already looking forward to the next Talaski family sucker festival, and I feel very honored and appreciative that they have adopted me!
Having been an avid Michigan spring turkey hunter for over 50 years, I’ve been able to witness how this popular pastime has evolved, with the steadily increasing wild turkey numbers which have successfully extended their territory, as well as the hunting equipment, including calls, specialized ammunition and shotgun chokes. Some of the rules have changed as well, such as the most recent which allows turkey hunters on private property to be able to use shotguns from an elevated platform or tree-stand. Because I often like a change of scenery in our great state, I was really pleased with the over the counter 0234 turkey license, which allows me to hunt local turkeys in the Thumb on private land, and also on public lands “up north”, during most of the month of May. Time sure flies because I can remember my first spring turkey season quite vividly, almost like it was yesterday. Probably because it was a special moment in time, and I had been fortunately drawn for a very limited spring turkey hunt in northern Michigan during a time when turkey hunting in this state was in its pioneering stages. The wild turkey had been successfully reintroduced to several areas up north and the bird population had reached a point where state wildlife officials believed harvesting surplus male turkeys was a viable option. This occurred in the late 1960’s and I was one of the 30 hunters drawn for a particular area, for what some referred to as being an “experimental” hunt. I had found out about this hunt and how to apply for it from watching the late Mort Neff’s weekly “Michigan Outdoors” television show. It was, for a fact, a real experiment for me because other than knowing what a male turkey (gobbler) looked like, I didn’t have a clue at all about wild turkey hunting. I know I was excited when my big “turkey hunt” envelope arrived in the mail. Along with a metal “turkey tag”, a map of the area I was allowed to hunt in, and a sheet covering the rules of the hunt, as well as a few hunting tips were offered. According to the rules, this was a shotgun only hunt and slugs and buckshot could not be used, and hunting was allowed only from sunrise until 1:00 pm. The hunting tips were quite simple and basically informed you that turkeys weren’t colorblind and had very sharp eyesight, excellent hearing and the best method to hunt wild gobblers was to lure them into range by duplicating a hen turkey call, because the spring breeding season for wild turkeys would be taking place. The tips also recommended trying to go for a headshot to anchor the tough birds on the spot, which was sound advice I follow to this day. The first thing I did, was obtain a turkey call, which had to be special ordered at the local hardware store because unlike today, there wasn’t any demand to have turkey calls sitting on the shelf. My wooden, friction turkey call arrived with a small sheet of paper giving directions on how to use it, and other than that, this was my first introduction to turkey calling. Needless to say, folks, this would be the beginning of a never ending trial and error learning experience. My first turkey shotgun was my grandfather’s vintage 12 ga (Model 1900) Browning “Auto-5”, and I stoked it with high-brass number twos (which was legal back then, but nothing larger than #4 birdshot is allowed today for hunter safety reasons). As for camouflage, I wore the same camouflage (in the old leopard frog print) coveralls that I used for bowhunting whitetails in the fall. My “hunting wheels” happened to be the only wheels I owned at the time, which was a 1959 Rambler which I had put over-sized tires on for more ground clearance, thus allowing me to cover some rough ground, and it did quite well in this regard. Another advantage to this old car was the fact the front seat could be slid forward and the back-support dropped down to join the back seat to form a comfortable bed. All I needed was a sleeping bag and I was quite snug in a weatherproof shelter that didn’t take much time at all to setup. To say I was mobile with this unique system would be an understatement. Remaining mobile and camping right in the middle of the hunting area would be something I would continue to do over the years when hunting spring turkeys in northern Michigan. It wasn’t only cheaper on a limited budget, but also there is truly something to be said about crawling out of a sleeping bag in the morning and then being able to start hunting right off at the get go. Until my three sons came along to change my ways, I tended to be a loner during most outdoor activities. It might sound selfish on my part, but being solo meant I didn’t have anyone else’s schedules, menus or hunting opinions to deal with. My first spring turkey hunting camp was simple as could be. I found an isolated spot in the public hunting area, parked the old Rambler just so, and unloaded the back seat, which entailed a folding chair, a cooler full of food, three gallons of drinking water, a Coleman lantern and two-burner stove, and a couple folding TV trays (one for holding the stove and the other for eating). I then took a plastic tarp, attached the corners onto the driver’s side and pulled the rest over top of the car roof and used the excess, tied off to handy trees nearby, to form a lean-to which entailed my sleeping quarters in the car. This took only a few minutes to setup, with most of my time spent getting a campfire ready and gathering wood for it. There was a small kettle lake located close by that happened to have some bluegills which took care of my afternoons fishing for them with a fly rod, and I pan-fried the fish with morels I had gathered while turkey hunting. The small lake also furnished the water for cleaning up and filling a bucket I kept near the campfire. I would catch the largest bluegill of my life thus far, at that little kettle lake, but it didn’t make any record books because it turned out to be quite delicious! My first night in camp was interesting because it would be my introduction to Michigan coyotes, and there seemed to be a whole bunch in that area which let out their typical serenade all night long. Owls were hooting too, and a multitude of frogs were croaking as a choir in the kettle lake, so it was quite a nighttime atmosphere to enjoy by a crackling campfire. The night noises didn’t bother me any, and in fact I savored them. Besides that, with a 12 ga Browning semiautomatic shotgun close at hand to cuddle, if need be, I wasn’t afraid of much! I thoroughly enjoyed that first spring turkey hunt and even saw an out-of-range gobbler which had been responding to my calling but had obviously wised up because I said something wrong per my newly acquired hen turkey lingo, which was very limited in quality and diversity. I certainly didn’t hurt the turkey population any either, but I sure became smitten with this challenging spring pastime, and in time, I’d eventually learn how to do it right. The wild turkey program in Michigan is certainly a very successful wildlife conservation story and turkey hunting opportunities abound throughout the Lower Peninsula, and even in parts of the Upper Peninsula. One thing is for certain, I will always cherish the memory of my very first Michigan spring turkey hunting experience, because it was truly a brand-new adventure which has led to an annual outdoor pastime that I look forward to and enjoy each and every spring.
The barks and howls of beagles in hot pursuit were soon punctuated by a series of gunshots, and as the chase continued, more shots erupted from various locations. I had placed several kids and their adult mentors at certain key spots in the “rabbitat” on my farm for a good old fashioned rabbit hunt. This was part of the Pheasants Forever (PF) Outreach Program which introduces youths to various shooting pastimes in the outdoors (the hunt was sponsored by the Saginaw County PF Chapter). None of the kids had ever been rabbit hunting before, nor had most of the adult mentors. because today’s most popular hunting pastime tends to be deer hunting, which all the kids (and adult mentors) had already done. With deer season being over, typically, so was the kids’ main hunting experience for the year. This happened last winter and thanks to Paul Broecker of Silverwood and his pair of beagles, all the kids bagged a cottontail rabbit or two during an action-packed adventure, which rabbit hunting can often offer. Broecker has long enjoyed listening to a “choir” of beagles merrily singing in hot pursuit, and it was a no-brainer for him to bring his beagles to my farm and introduce the kids to the fine pastime of “beagling”, and with the kids being the only “shooters” during the hunt, they all thoroughly enjoyed the entire atmosphere. “Beagling” is the time-steeped tradition of hunting with typically joyful beagles, and it is quite a popular pastime in this country for pursuing rabbits and hares. I know for a fact the winters just wouldn’t be the same if I couldn’t go beagling, and I’ve been at it quite a while. I’ve had a lifelong close association with dogs, and when it comes to breeds, owning a beagle or two is a priority in my world, and I’ve always appreciated the beagle’s overall versatility and very amiable attitude. The beagle clearly has an ancient lineage, with many references to small hounds being used by hunters on foot for pursuing hares and rabbits, with the earliest written by Xenophon (“Treatise on Hunting”) in Greece during the 5th Century BC. Small hounds were also popular during Medieval times in England when the upper class made it illegal for the lower class to own dogs large enough to hunt stags, unless the big dog had one of its paws mutilated. Clearly, the lower class could legally hunt hares and rabbits which made owning small hounds that could be followed on foot common sense, and it certainly helped to fill the family larder. In the 11th Century, William the Conqueror brought the Talbot Hound to England, which in turn crossed with native hounds. The Talbot Hound was directly related to the bloodhound and basset Hound, and today’s beagle possesses scenting capabilities which run nip and tuck with bloodhounds (I remember when I was on a cross country hike over hill and dale while scouting for deer and one of my beagles managed to get out of my kennel, and it scent-tracked me down on the run just like a bloodhound, and I was wearing knee-high rubber boots). The Beagle’s name is most likely derived from the French word “begueule” which basically means baying with an open mouth. “Beagle” was a generic term long used in England for any small hound, and Queen Elizabeth I owned a pack of “pocket beagles” which were small enough to be carried to the hunt in saddlebags. Parson Phillip Honeywood of Essex, England is given credit for developing what we know today as the modern beagle, during the 1830’s. The first beagles began being imported to the United States during the 1860’s and the American Kennel Club (AKC) accepted the beagle as a breed in 1885. New Englanders created the first Beagle Field Trials in 1890, which are still quite popular all around the country. By the 20th Century, the beagle had spread worldwide. Besides hunting small game such as hares and rabbits, beagles are also used to hunt kangaroos in Australia and whitetails in Ontario (I’d really like to try that form of deer hunting sometime with a guide and his dogs). The beagle’s superior scenting capabilities have also found it being used to detect bed bugs in New York City, termites in Australia and by the U.S. Custom and Border Protection Agency for their dedicated efforts, as well as for search and rescue. A friend of mine had his beagles even tree a bobcat while snowshoe hare hunting up north. They are very versatile and extremely trainable, to include retrieving applications. These small, short-haired hounds also make great house pets for the entire family and have even adapted well to city life. I have yet to meet a “mean” beagle. Beagles generally lack the inherited health issues of other breeds and have very strong long necks which allow them to easily reach and scent the ground, and their long ears also even assist in gathering scent to their noses. I’ve always used my beagles for pheasant hunting with my Brittany spaniels as I like to combine the scenting qualities of both. Beagles are ground sniffers (aka foot trackers), and a Brittany will pick up body scent while holding its head a bit higher. It is a combined system which works for me, and beagles are great for recovering wounded birds (they are also a favorite dog breed for tracking wounded deer). My beagles also seemed to know when we are pheasant hunting or rabbit hunting and act accordingly in the field (they may sound off while pheasant hunting, as it is an instinctive matter, which will rattle wily wild roosters into flushing). Some years ago, I had a female beagle named “Tiny” who I worked with my male Brittany “Beau” on pheasants and they were a great team. Although Tiny would sound off while on rabbits, she didn’t make a peep going after pheasants, and if Beau locked up tight on a bird, Tiny would honor his point by automatically sitting down close by. I came to realize she was a “sitter” (not to be confused with setter) which was her way of being the acute backup in pointing birds. I liked to use Tiny for December grouse hunting (another favorite winter pastime of mine) because she was a real dandy at nosing her way through the snow and under overhanging cedar boughs and when she found a grouse, she would sit right down and wait for me to move in. This happened right next to a creek one brisk morning, and while there was snow on its banks, the creek had yet to freeze over with ice. Tiny performed her sitting mode near the base of a large cedar and I moved in and gave the snow a kick and a grouse exploded up. When I shot, the grouse dropped out of the air and fell dead into the middle of the creek with a splash. Tiny was a great retriever and took right off after the grouse to retrieve it but came to a screeching halt at the water’s edge with snow flying out into the water. When I approached her, she was staring intently at the grouse floating in the middle of the deep, dark and cold water. Then she turned her head up at me, looked me right in the eye while twitching her nose from side to side, and she wasn’t smiling, and smiling is something Beagles seem to do naturally most of the time. It was very clear she was letting me know doing a water retrieve in very cold and dark water on a snowy wintery day wasn’t in our contract. There certainly was no argument on my part because beagles are quite intelligent and have their way of expressing themselves. I used a dead tree branch to snag the grouse and bring it to shore, and when it was close enough, Tiny leaned out, grabbed the dead grouse with her mouth and brought it over and dropped it at my feet. She was also wagging her tail, looking me right in the eye and smiling again. It was clear to her we had resolved the “contract” situation in a copacetic manner. One thing is for certain, folks, having beagles as my very good friends and being able to share the field and go beagling with them whenever possible certainly works for me. They also shorten up long winters by offering a unique opportunity like no other to enjoy the great outdoors.
The second day of Michigan’s muzzleloader season, 2022, I harvested a 4 point buck, using my dad’s muzzleloader & overlooking a cedar swamp next to the Thunder Bay River in Atlanta Michigan. I took a half day off work on Thursday and drove up to put my shooting sticks and seat cushions in the pop up blind. I sat all day on Friday, from 6:30 am until 5:30 pm and never saw a deer. Not one. Long sit. Thankfully, there were birds, squirrels, and even a few partridge that kept me company throughout the day. Overnight on Friday into Saturday morning it rained and rained hard. I could hear the rain drops pelting the cabin at Crooked Creek overnight. It melted the snow which was good for a quiet entry to my blind, but the weather forecast predicted the rain turning back into snow and blustery winds for most of the day. The alarm sounded Saturday morning and led into breakfast. Wind buffeted the cabin and rain slapped the siding…it was suggested that maybe I just stay put and go out at noon. ‘Idea’ sounded excellent to me. Wouldn’t get soaked walking out to the blind, gun would not get wet, and a warm cabin. However, another comment was made that you can’t shoot a buck in the living room, either. So, I went out in the garage, layered up my heavy clothes and went hunting!!! After driving to my spot, the walk out to the blind was very quiet due to the rain and wet leaves. I settled in the blind and it did start snowing which provided for a very pretty landscape. It was still blowing like crazy and the tops of the trees clicked and popped and, to be honest, it looked pretty bleak from a hunting perspective. I generally make it a rule to silence my phone and put it away permanently when in the blind but I started texting my dad around 8:30am or so. As I texted, I had my muzzleloader resting on my shooting sticks and the butt of the gun in my shoulder, just like I always do. At one point, at 9am, I looked down at the long, slender shooting lane and I saw a buck standing and licking his nose. I dropped the phone and eased my head down to the scope. The buck circled around and came back from my right and walked out partially into the shooting lane about 50 yards away, his ribs covered by a big tree. He was very skittish as he put his head down and he looked up at the blind several times. I knew I had to shoot quickly or lose the opportunity. I tried to hold the scope’s crosshairs as close to the tree as possible. I felt that if I could hold still, I could squeeze the shot right tight behind his shoulder. However, a serious case of the shakes set in, just a little touch of buck fever to make things interesting. I tried to hold steady as I applied pressure to the trigger and “Kaboom!!” White smoke filled the air and I saw the buck mule-kick and run off toward the left…that was it!! I was shaking like crazy and I was super excited as I got out of the blind and tried to quickly reload my muzzleloader. I dropped two pellets down the barrel and then got the bullet started down, but it stopped about 8’-10’ down the barrel so I moved my right hand up higher on the ramrod, pushing down hard and it bent 90 degrees!! Wow! I struggled to straighten the rod and I finally straightened it enough to get the bullet seated all the way down and then I could not remove the ramrod from the barrel. So, I left my gun at the blind and walked down to where I shot to see if I could locate any hair or blood and I actually found both. Blood looked good. I walked back to the blind to grab my gun and walked back to the truck where I reached out for some help. I texted my friend, Gary, for help. I decided to shed my heavy clothes and put on lightweight tracking clothes and rubber boots. After drinking some water and eating some mixed nuts at my truck, Gary arrived with the Jet Sled and we made our way back to the place where I shot. I was so focused on looking for the blood that I had seen, I almost stepped on a porcupine!! Whoa!! Gary efficiently dispatched our prickly friend with his trusty .40 cal and we took up the blood trail. Some snow had continued to fall and the blood was covered somewhat. We worked together, slowly, methodically and careful not to rush ahead or clumsily destroy the sign. Gary marked our progress with strategically placed toilet paper on the trees. The middle part of the tracking job was fairly slow; Gary was picking up sight of the blood, even underneath the snow somehow. The farther we went the more blood I saw until eventually Gary pointed and said, “Right there at 10 o’clock.” I was looking way too far out in front of us. Part of the back was sticking out of a small running creek that looked like it fed into the Thunder Bay River not five yards from us. I went over and lifted the buck out of the creek and dragged him over to a place I thought I could field dress him. I was ecstatic!! Just sheer excitement for me. Gary and I high fived and I felt a sense of pride that comes from diligent tracking. It was fun. I have tracked a lot of deer and helped other hunters recover deer and some people want to have too many trackers, or some people just barrel forward, ignoring signs and losing deer in the process. It was not the biggest rack or largest body deer that I have ever shot, but just a cool cedar swamp buck! When you think of all the hunting pressure Michigan deer endure, from September early hunts, October and early November bow hunts, and firearm season… to be able to harvest a buck during the muzzleloader season is special to me. There was a time not too long ago when I was working two jobs and 70 hours a week and just didn’t have the time or energy to go muzzleloader hunting at all. Consequently, I truly appreciate being able to go out and hunt that time of the year. Also, the Thompson Center muzzleloader that I’m using is a gun my dad won in a raffle years ago and has been a good luck charm for me. I’m already looking forward to next year!
The coyote is no doubt the epitome of being a very adaptable and prolific survivor wherever it is found, which entails quite a continually growing area, even in locations where coyotes have never been documented as ever being there before. Its geographic range now spans the entire North American Continent, with 19 recognized subspecies. Coyotes can now be regularly found as far south as Central America and it was only a matter of time before they even ventured into South America, where they were first spotted beyond the Panama Canal in 2013 and some data suggests this could have happened as early as 2010, and the large canal proved to be no barrier to this truly very wily critter. The coyote is the North American equivalent of the Old World golden jackal, and was originally only found out west, or wherever it didn’t have to compete with its larger cousin, the gray wolf. Lewis and Clark, who were obviously very seasoned outdoorsmen, had never encountered coyotes until their 1804 - 06 Expedition into the West. Lewis described coyotes in his journal as being “small woolfs”. What very clearly paved the way for the coyote to be able to readily expand its range was the continual extirpation of the gray wolf, from the beginning of the first Europeans settling this country right up into the 20th Century. Being a large apex predator, the gray wolf was regularly condemned and eliminated while civilization expanded across North America. All those 19 subspecies aside, I look at it as there simply being two types of coyotes, which are the warm country type that is smaller and leggy to better deal with the heat, and the cold country type which is larger and blockier (and with denser fur) to better deal with the cold (it is Nature’s way and applies to whitetail deer as well, for example). Here in Michigan, of course, we have the cold country version which has often been referred to as “brush wolves”. Other than hearing coyote howls used as backdrop noises in Hollywood produced western movies, I never had any personal coyote experiences until my first ever spring wild turkey hunt in northern Michigan. This occurred during the late 1960’s, and it was a bit thrilling at first for a Thumb Area farm boy camping all by his lonesome at night in the big woods. However, thanks to those Hollywood westerns, I knew what I was hearing and actually rather enjoyed it as being a natural part of the outdoor scene, and still do. Having one come stalking into my turkey calling attempts was even a greater thrill, especially to just lay eyes on it, but the moment was very brief, because I wasn’t all that great a turkey caller in those early days. I would again encounter more coyotes when I ventured on my first hunting forays in Wyoming during the early 1970’s, and I continually knew they were around whenever I went spring turkey hunting in northern Michigan. It wasn’t until the mid 1980’s when I thought I heard a coyote howl one night in the Thumb. I then began to encounter what I knew to be coyote sign entailing tracks and scat. Having been around coyotes enough elsewhere by this time, I was certain as to what I was looking at, and I eventually saw a coyote while I was bowhunting for deer. When I first wrote about it, some folks thought I was seeing things, but local houndsmen out after fox that winter began to take a regular quantity of coyotes. The rest, as they say, is history, and the coyote is now a common fixture in the Thumb, not to mention being found everywhere else (including municipal areas and suburbs) in Michigan these days. Coyotes depend primarily on animal matter (including carrion) to survive but can be very versatile with their diet and even eat plant matter including various fruits, vegetables and berries, and I have even seen undigested grain in their droppings. To put it more succinctly, a coyote will eat whatever it can in order to survive, even if it includes domestic livestock, poultry and pets such as small dogs and cats. Coyotes are lean, mean killing machines for their size. I’ve seen coyotes on early summer occasions carrying cats in their jaws, most likely back to their dens and hungry pups. I’ve also had coyotes, and it’s my calculated guess here, kill and eat mother cats and their kittens in my open hayshed. All I can say is that the cats and their kittens are suddenly missing and there are distinct, fresh coyote tracks in the soft, damp ground near the shed. I don’t believe coyotes actually targeted my cats, with it simply being an opportunity which presented itself, and coyotes are very opportunistic. They are also keen experts at snatch and grab, even from patios and decks right in front of pet owners’ eyes. My son Jake and his family will never forget the full moon night they were tent camping right next to our farm pond and were awakened by splashing noises. When they looked out the tent’s screen window, they could see it was a pair of adult coyotes teaching their pups how to catch and eat frogs. With my home being tucked into the middle of wildlife habitat, I’ve had the opportunity to listen frequently to coyotes training their pups how to hunt during midsummer nights. They have quite a few vocalizations including barks, yips and yaps that are very dog-like. My wife Ginny will always remember when coyotes discovered a fawn and the noise, which sounded almost like a screaming human baby, woke us up. Obviously the coyote parents were letting their inexperienced pups do the killing work because it took a while. Reality in the wild isn’t always pretty. Coyotes can take their fair share of fawns each spring and summer. I believe it is more a matter of any opportunity which presents itself, as that is the coyote way of life, but when you have a bunch of coyotes patrolling a certain area, it can happen more times than not. Whenever I see a mature whitetail doe in early autumn these days without any fawns in tow, I’m a bit suspicious of a coyote influence (one of my favorite calls to lure coyotes in is a “fawn in distress” bleat). My prairie grass fields are a favorite “nursery” for whitetail does to conceal their fawns, and I find evidence every summer where coyotes have located and killed fawns. There used to be a closed period per coyote hunting (April 16 – July 14) which was designed to protect coyotes during their whelping period. By mid July, coyote pups are out of the den and being trained by their parents on how to hunt. Coyotes could only be killed during the closed period if they were doing or about to do damage to private property, which was defined as pets, livestock and poultry. This did not include wildlife such as whitetail fawns. In April 2016, the Natural Resources Commission (NRC) dropped the closed period for coyotes which can now be hunted at any time during the year, which sure works for me, because the coyote I know doesn’t need any sort of protection. That past closed period was meant to make certain people feel good about matters, when it had nothing at all to do with reality. The coyote mating season occurs in Michigan from mid-January until early March, with February being the key timeframe in my experience (and my favorite month for calling/hunting coyotes). When a female starts to go into estrus, she will emit howls (it is often the females you hear howling on cold winter nights) to attract suitors, which usually entails several males. The female will eventually select only one, and the rest, usually without a scrap, will move on in search of other mates. It is the coyote way of selecting a mate in a copacetic manner. Males are very monogamist and fully assist in raising the litter, which entails regurgitating food to feed the young once they are weaned. If something happens to the female before the pups are weaned, the male will abandon the litter because there is nothing he can do, which is reality in the wild. The average litter size is six pups but this all depends upon food availability. The coyote is unique in that it has the ability to have small or large litters in this regard. Here in Michigan, I believe there aren’t very many lean years. Being the ultimate survivor, the very cunning and adaptable coyote now found throughout Michigan is here to stay. It is a wild specie I have grown to respect and admire, even if grudgingly so. Yep, folks, I sure do enjoy matching wits with coyotes at every opportunity!
The older I get; the more time seems to fly because it doesn’t seem like it was 14 years ago when I finally got my “bucket list” gun and couldn’t wait to use it during the local firearms deer season. When I ordered my Freedom Arms .454 Casull revolver, I had to wait 9 weeks for it to be built, because Freedom Arms builds them only one at a time. Once I received the revolver it was then taken to Ken Kelly of Mag-Na-Port to be ported for recoil, as well as be fully customized, including a trigger-job (Ken Kelly is an award-winning gunsmith who does fantastic work). With a 10-inch barrel which is topped with a 2X Leupold handgun scope, it proved to be a superbly accurate piece which truly packs a punch. Legendary handgun hunter Larry Kelly (Ken’s late father) used a revolver and scope identical to mine to take lions, Cape buffalo and even elephants in Africa. Putting whitetails down for the count with this big bore is obviously a no-brainer, that is, if you can accurately hit what you are aiming at. In my opinion, the Freedom Arms revolver is one of the best built handguns in the world. Memories in the field are often about successes, but sometimes they are not. Whenever you watch a hunt put nicely together for a DVD or outdoor television series, or read about it in an article, the hunter featured usually bags the quarry in an efficient manner. Often left out are the human error flubs and other challenges en route to the successful ending. Take the opening morning of that ’09 firearms deer season I had been counting the days off for, to give my new revolver a thorough workout. Daylight was just brightening up the day when I heard my son Josh fire his single-shot T/C Encore 20ga. This was abruptly followed by another shot, and I began to ponder what was up. Josh is a crack shot, and I was certain he had something down, but that second shot had me wondering. There is that old saying - “one shot means probably, two shots mean maybe.” Half an hour later, curiosity was killing me. Even though your kids are grownups, you still wonder if they need your help, especially after those two shots, and I was soon climbing down out of my ladder-stand to check matters out. Experience has taught me not to stride right over as if I’m on a walk in the park. Instead, I began constructively still-hunting, a favorite hunting technique of mine, where you use your eyes more than your feet, and take every step very carefully. I had covered about half the distance to Josh in his ladder-stand when during one of my long pauses I noticed the motion of a white throat patch, then the eyes, and then the large rack came into focus through a hole in the brush. The buck had no idea I was about as he gazed in the direction of some shots echoing in the distance. I used my binocular to determine the standing buck was facing directly away, and it wasn’t a shot to take. I slowly dropped to one knee like a mime performing a slow-motion act and brought out my doe in-heat-bleat can, which I used to send out a long blat. That is when the doe I didn’t know was just laying behind the buck, jumped up and started coming towards me. The buck, in a perplexed attitude, started to follow her. Well folks, I’ll state right here, that when it comes to encountering bucks, especially very big bucks, I’m not the calmest cookie in the jar. My pulse picked up while my focus became intense, not unlike a cougar ready to pounce upon its prey. I’ve been there before many times, and it gives you an inkling of being a predator. Then the doe glanced in the direction of Josh’s ladder-stand, and I knew my son was probably on the move. The doe abruptly turned, and the large buck instinctively clued in. He didn’t get that big by not catching on when a doe’s reaction meant something was out of place. He had learned that early on from his mother, and this buck was no fool because he led the way out of there. And wouldn’t you know it, right back toward where I had just left. I had some distance to cover on an angle to intercept the deer and I moved out to a handy lane and took off on a sprint which included hurdling over a downed dead elm tree. Not a very big dead elm, mind you, but big enough that it took some effort for somebody that is a bit long in the tooth, as well as being a bit, well, “husky”. Doing a 150-yard sprint in a bent over position just below a handy hedge, is an interesting proposition. Adrenaline helps a lot, especially when you remember you had to hold your breath that morning to tie your boots and got a little dizzy in the process. I ended up right back at my ladder-stand when the shot came into being. The buck had just arrived and was standing directly broadside 50 yards away. A honeysuckle bush between us made him appear like a black-formed ghost in my dreams. Had I remained in my stand, I would have had a shot without the honeysuckle bush. I also would not have been wheezing like a racehorse just passing across the finish line. By understanding the body language of deer, I knew I had to respond quickly, because the buck was only briefly stopping before deciding his next move. I used the tree-trunk my ladder-stand was attached to for a more stabile brace for my revolver and placed the crosshairs of the scope right on the buck’s shoulder through the honeysuckle bush, held my sharply wheezing breath for a brief second, and lightly touched the trigger. The buck abruptly whirled around at the shot, and disappeared into the thick cover, and I was left with that great mystery as to whether my shot had been true. I then returned to my original objective, which was seeing if my son needed assistance. The buck I had just shot at would require some patient waiting time before a follow-up tracking job anyway. I soon discovered Josh was doing just fine. His first successful shot had been at a coyote which had been directly underneath his ladder-stand. At the sound of his shot, a large doe stood up nearby and Josh successfully downed her, as well. Josh was in the process of tagging and field-dressing the doe when I arrived. After helping my son get the coyote and doe out of the woods, I placed Josh at the “backdoor” while I went into the heavy cover to locate the large buck I had shot at. My vanity said I would find him lying there. Reality, however, let me know the facts would speak for themselves. There was absolutely no blood or hair to be found at the site where I hoped the buck would be lying nearby. A thorough grid-search revealed nothing as well, and Josh didn’t see anything trying to sneak out the backdoor either. It was clearly a clean miss, maybe due to trying to push the bullet through a screen of brush, or the fact that I was wheezing when I locked on with the crosshairs. One thing is for certain, it wasn’t the fault of my fine hunting revolver. The next day I spotted that buck in the distance with my binocular, and he was doing fine. I doubt if I had any effect on his busy dating itinerary, and as before, the present doe was following him, instead of the other way around. He was obviously quite the Romeo! One thing I’ve come to know after many years of hunting, no matter how well the firearm and ammunition, and the practice entailed in getting to know the combination, everything doesn’t always fall into place like a written script. Misses occur, even those fantastic and unforgettable misses. Yep, folks, such are also included in those fine hunting memories. When it comes to missing, I’ve been there and done that and no doubt will do it again. That is why it is called hunting, and I do love it so, no matter what.
The first dogs in my memory were the farm dogs we used for herding our dairy cows. This was back in the 1950’s when the Thumb had countless small farms, usually entailing milk cows in the mix. A common dog in the scene was a collie-type that had been brought into the Thumb by settlers, many from Canada (my great grandfather Townsend Lounsbury came to the Thumb directly from Canada). The dogs were what we in my local neighborhood called “coallies” due to the fact most were a longhaired dark brindle-colored affair, with black muzzles. They usually had the typical white “neck collar” of collies but had shorter noses and blockier heads than the modern collie breed today. There is no doubt that their original ancestors hailed from Scotland and probably other breeds were added in along the way in the New World. The coallies were not only great herding dogs, but during the heyday of pheasant hunting in the Thumb, they held their own in flushing pheasants with blue-blooded bird dogs (our one coallie would even lockup on point). They were also pretty good rabbit dogs, making them a very versatile breed. Sadly, when small working farms with various dairy herds went by the wayside in the Thumb, the coallie breed that I knew (which other than being a set type with no registration entailed) faded away. Thanks to my early association with our versatile farm dogs, I have ever since looked upon my hunting dogs as being versatile in the field. I have been with bird hunters who became upset when their dogs showed an interest in rabbits, and I have been with rabbit hunters who also got upset if their beagles started chasing pheasants. Well folks, I don’t have any issues with a dog being a hunting dog. An example was my beagle hunting pheasants with my Brittany and the Brittany in turn joining the beagle for a good ‘ol rabbit hunt (they were a great team but are sadly now gone). In this manner, all my dogs have a very lengthy and happy hunting season from fall to spring which we all much enjoy. There was the blue tick hound I owned some thirty years ago which was a dandy pheasant and rabbit dog, and even retrieved. A whole lot has to do with how you train a dog, especially when hunting is in their genes, which pretty most all dogs have. A truly versatile breed for both upland and wetland environments is the Labrador retriever, and a good example was my lab “Ebony”. We shared more than a dozen years together, and we were tight enough in our relationship that my wife Ginny claimed Ebony and I were attached with an umbilical cord. Ebony knew when we were pheasant or waterfowl hunting, and she also knew when we were rabbit hunting, and she tutored younger dogs in all avenues along the way. She also retrieved downed and wounded game which may otherwise have been lost. I will always remember the time we stalked in on a remote pond filled with mallards, and Ebony without any commands from me automatically knew we were stalking in slow and followed my lead, and went to work only after the shooting started. She without question could read my mind. Of course Ebony, like all dogs, went quickly from a puppy to her prime, and suddenly was an old dog, and all too soon gone. If you are lucky, you get only a decade to share together. It is a reality I have learned to accept after a lifetime association with dogs, but I remember each and every one. An organization which promotes versatile hunting dogs is the North American Versatile Hunting Dog Association (www.navhda.org) and they place an emphasis on dog breeds which can readily cover all upland and wetland hunting avenues, as well as small game hunting, and including trailing and recovering wounded game. They have quite a list of breeds, which I’m sure will continue to grow. At the very top of the list is the German Shorthair Pointer (GSP), a breed I have just started working with (after 50 years of Brittany spaniels), in the form of my one-year-old female “Zelda”, who is very intelligent, eager to please and certainly versatile. She has just finished the early and late pheasant seasons, and cottontails are now on her eager agenda. She has also proven to be excellent in water retrieves and was a natural in this regard. I’m very impressed with the GSP breed for covering a variety of hunting applications and see why it is number one on the NAVHDA list. About five years ago I purchased a young (brindle-colored) mountain cur female I named “Jilly” and a year later, a friend gave me a female black mouth cur pup I named “Ruby” (due to her rusty-red coat). Both of my “cur dogs” share a very similar heritage and are very old American breeds developed by pioneers to be very versatile dogs in a rugged wilderness environment. They could herd livestock, loyally guard the homestead, and hunt anything required of them, including small game, bears, cougars and wild boars (“Old Yeller” was a black mouth cur). Both cur breeds are also noted for being great “treeing dogs” for squirrel and raccoon hunting, which I use mine for (wintertime squirrel hunting in this manner is a great action-packed adventure and is growing in popularity in Michigan). I also use my curs for pheasant hunting on my farm where they have proven to be great flushers. They are also key dogs whenever I perform a rabbit drive and are dependable at finding wounded game. If I must recover a wounded, difficult to track, deer in my tall prairie grass, I’ll leash up one of my cur dogs to assist in sorting matters out. I had an interesting experience last winter relating to my farm pond. I try to make sure all my dogs get plenty of exercise whenever possible, and I have a large backyard which allows plenty of romping room, and I’m on hand to supervise matters, which works towards our being a cohesive team. There were several times my two cur dogs would be become real interested around the dock, which included trying to paw up the wooden step resting on the bank. I assumed it had to be muskrats denned in the bank underneath the step. Then came the frigid day my cur dogs went charging through the trees toward the pond and left me in their wake. When I arrived at the scene, the two cur dogs were frantically pawing at the step once again. That is when I saw tracks in the snow leading from my yard out into the pond to a perfectly round hole in the ice. After examining the tracks, I realized I had a river otter enjoying the dependable benefits of fish in my pond and likely had a den in the pond’s bank underneath the dock step. It had obviously escaped into the ice-hole and swam under the ice to the refuge of its den, and the cur dogs knew it was there. River otters can be bigger than you might think, and this one was no tiny tot. I measured its pad prints which were three inches across! I’m glad the otter made good its escape, because this was an encounter which could have turned into a real nasty melee, and otters aren’t pushovers, as well as there is no “back down” in a cur dog. I never saw any sign of the otter after that exciting event, and my cur dogs soon lost interest in the dock area. Something tells me that after such a close call, the otter decided to pack its bags and seek out new digs, which works for me, because otters can be hard on the fish population in a pond. You might say my two cur dogs did their duty in faithfully guarding the homestead. Yep, folks, versatile hunting dogs are certainly my cup of tea, and life wouldn’t be the same without them.
When January arrives, it marks the time for a favorite outdoor pastime of mine. The primary quarry these days for most Michigan hunters is the whitetail deer, which means when all the deer seasons end and winter settles in, many hunters hang it all up until the following fall deer seasons arrive once again. For a growing number of hunters however, there is the “other season”, wintertime predator hunting. In Michigan, predator hunting entails foxes (both red and gray), coyotes, and in the northern part of the state, bobcats. The red fox remains my favorite quarry, as it is the first predator that I began hunting on the family farm many years ago. The predator which puts a lot of spice into the mix is no doubt the coyote which has rapidly spread its range throughout the entire state in recent decades. The coyote in my opinion is just as challenging, if not more so, as hunting wary whitetails because it has superb senses and an uncanny ability for instinctively getting suspicious if something is out of place. I first started noticing prevalent coyote sign in my home Thumb area about 40 years ago. At that time, I made regular sojourns up north for hunting springtime wild turkeys, and there was a growing abundance of coyotes in the northern Lower Peninsula, so I knew coyote sign (tracks and droppings) when I saw them. However, I didn’t write about seeing sign in the Thumb until I started seeing coyotes to verify my suspicions, and when I wrote about it some folks thought I was being a bit wacky. Fortunately, not long after I wrote about the coyotes, local hound hunters out after fox began to bag a surprising quantity of coyotes on a regular basis. The reason for the coyote’s sudden appearance which usually surprises everyone is due to its secretive and nocturnal nature, and its ability to thrive in very close proximity to humans, even within the city limits of large municipalities. I can remember the news story which featured animal control employees pursuing a coyote in Central Park in the middle of New York City. When sighted by the uninitiated, a coyote is often confused with being either a stray dog or a large fox. The coyote, like the fox, also has a diversified diet which besides meat and carrion, will also include fruits, vegetables and grain (I’ve found coyote droppings filled with wheat during harvest time). Being opportunistic in this regard, the coyote won’t hesitate to kill and eat pets such as cats and small dogs. I’ve had a couple of experiences as well where territorial coyotes have tried to isolate and kill beagles chasing rabbits. In parts of Michigan where there is an abundance of deer and the associated roadkill, coyotes (and foxes) rarely go hungry. In my opinion, the most productive technique for predator hunting is using hounds and I’ve participated in this very time-steeped, fine and challenging pastime for foxes, coyotes, and even bobcats up north. This is certainly not a slam-dunk affair as the quarry often eludes the hunters’ guns, and for me, hearing the hounds baying in hot pursuit is a thrilling experience filled with anticipation. Using hounds is effective enough that I check on the kill ratios of local houndsmen to get a grasp of coyote and fox numbers in my area, as well as whether fox numbers are up or down in relation to the coyotes. Lacking hounds, another technique is to have a couple of fellow hunters seek out tracks after a fresh snowfall. By tracking the fox or coyote, the effort then is to push the coyote or fox to waiting hunters, not to mention the trackers could possibly get a shot as well. One person can do the tracking but having an extra set of eyes with someone flanking to the side never hurts. There is one solo method I enjoy regarding the red fox, which is going one on one and tracking while staying on its tracks until it truly outwits me, or I get a shot. Try this with a coyote and it will change zip codes when it realizes you are on its tracks. A gray fox, when pressured enough, will usually go to ground. The red fox, “Old Reynard” of legend, however, has a relatively small range, and enjoys giving a pursuer the slip, almost as if toying with you, and rarely, if ever, goes to ground. I’ve had red foxes which knew I was tracking them do a fishhook and lay in hiding as they watched me pass close by, and then headed down their back trail, starting the process all over again (this lets you know why standers at key locations can work with a team effort). This was in fact my first predator hunting method when I was a kid, and the red fox was the only game at that time in the arena (I noticed the first gray foxes appearing in the Thumb area about the same timeframe as the coyote entered the stage). When it comes to fox tracks, the red has fuzzed up pad prints due to thick fur around its feet while the gray has more distinct pad prints due to less fur. Give me a fresh snowfall and a set of red fox tracks and I’ll be attempting to “walkup” a fox during the winter. Whether or not I catch up with old Reynard isn’t the point, it is purely the challenge of pursuing and matching wits with a master predator. Finally, is predator calling, a distinct wintertime passion of mine. I used to only use mouth calls (always make sure you have more than one mouth call due to the reed freezing up in subzero weather and keep the spare calls warm under your coat), but several years ago I started to use a Johnnie Stewart Electronic caller and became smitten right away. It was on the bulky side, had a speaker which could be worked remotely, used cassettes and everything had to be carried in a duffel bag. Then the digital age came into being with an amazing array of very compact and diverse electronic callers which work for me. I often also use a battery-operated decoy which creates motion and a realistic focus point for an incoming predator, whether using electronic or mouth calls (in the old days I used a pheasant wing on a string and attached it to a bush where it would twirl with the slightest breeze). My eldest son Jake uses a “Lucky Duck Rebel Predator Call” which is the size of a lunch box, has multiple calls (including for crows) and even features a pop-up decoy which twirls about. The first time he used it was on a sunny winter’s day, and the setup and sound were so convincing, a redtail hawk swooped down and pounced on the twirling decoy! There was also the avid predator caller I know, who was dressed in snow-camo and was using a mouth call after dark. His only downfall was wearing a rabbit fur hat, and fortunately he had the earflaps tied down tight, otherwise the great-horned owl which sunk its talons in and just missing his skull, would have flown away with it! I have found when the calling sequence is correct, it can often attract birds of prey seeking an easy meal. Predator callers in Michigan have some great advantages today. Raised platforms and tree-stands can be used night or day, as well as centerfire rifles and pistols .269 caliber or smaller can be used for nighttime predator hunting (any caliber can be used during daytime). Also, number #3 and #4 buckshot can be used after dark (any buckshot can be used during daytime), as well as high-tech nighttime optics and a wide selection of “spotlights”. (Refer to the 2022 Michigan Hunting Digest for all the particulars). Because I prefer shotguns for nighttime predator hunting, my personal favorites in ammo are number 3 buckshot in a 20 ga and number 4 buckshot in a 12 ga, which offer phenomenal performance for fox and super-tough coyotes. I look forward to full moon and cloudless nights, where a white, snowy backdrop turns night into day (no lights required) and doing predator calling. January and February mark the coyote mating season, and I often use a “howler” mouth call which duplicates a lonely female coyote seeking out any possible suitors in the near vicinity. Of course, it doesn’t always work, but when it does work, oh my! Hunting is hunting. One thing is for certain, when many hunters tend to “hibernate” after the annual deer seasons end, predator hunting, the “other season”, makes my winters a whole lot shorter, not to mention extremely challenging and entertaining, which sure works for me.