Caught on Camera…..The cooler weather is finally here with the leaves changing colors, meaning the Fall Hunting season is upon us. A super time to reflect on a busy summer and to plan trips for the Fall Hunt. Multiple seasons start in a matter of weeks…. Read More of the Story…
SMELL, RATTLE AND CALL TO GET YOUR BUCK…For some time now, many hunters have categorized deer scents, calls, and antler rattling as essential hunting tools. Most are used by the country’s most successful deer hunters who use them religiously to produce trophy-sized whitetails. They weren’t always portrayed like this, in fact at one time most thought of them as “gimmicks”.
I’ll never forget my first encounter
So close you could feel the heat and breeze…The MN Whitetail Deer Hunting Opener is one of my, and fellow hunters, favorite time of year. A time to spend with friends, family and the outdoors. Whether or not a deer is harvested by myself, I still enjoy it. The peacefulness of being in your stand solo, the crisp morning air, the warmness felt by sunshine in the afternoon, the time spent dwelling in the years events and Read More of the Story…
Shooting by committeeOne fine fall day in mid-season we decided it was time to leave the cabin and make an attempt at a deer drive. Standers were assigned their spots and four of “the brothers” started down the field road to get to the other end of the woods and start the drive. We had only gone a short distance when brother Tom whispered, “deer!”. Sure enough, 120 yards down, a nice doe was eating acorns under an oak tree right on the side of the road. We were caught in the open with nowhere to hide, but the deer seemed totally unaware of our presence. After a quickly convened family meeting it was decided that brother Glen, the youngest, should do the shooting. Glen took careful aim and let fly with a round from his .308. The dirt kicked up at the deer’s feet,but it continued to eat, oblivious to the commotion down the road. “Higher” someone whispered. Glen fired another round and managed to trim a branch right over the deer’s head. “Lower” was the unanimous verdict on that shot. And so it continued, brothers offering advice and Glen spraying lead to all points of the compass. Eventually he ran out of ammo so Tom offered his gun and the circus continued. Through all this commotion the deer was totally unconcerned, obviously word of the Virnig gang’s marksmanship had previously reached the wildlife community. After approximately 15 non-lethal shots the doe appeared perturbed at the interruption of it’s lunch hour and wandered off. Later in the day we ran into a neighboring party. They asked us how many deer were in the herd we were shooting at around noon. We just cast a knowing glance at each other and kept silent. Family honor was at stake.
Happy Birthday Steve!
Mike and RoseAnn
Size of a Dog…..While hunting in a MN state forest with Crusty (my brother), my father & mother and youngest brother, Rob, we would go to the campground in the state forest after each day of hunting to see how many deer were hanging. At times there were nice bucks and other times just does. It was also a way for us to show everyone what we got too.
Well, about 7-8 yrs ago we saw a very impressive 10pt buck hanging. So we stopped there and started talking to a kid (13 – 14yrs old) as he was the only person at this campsite. After asking “who got this buck? at what time?” etc… this kid told us the guy that shot it was in town, and he said “I got one too!” As we all turned our heads to look at his deer hanging from the tree, all we saw was a deer the size of a German Shepard! I mean honestly, how could anyone even see that small of a deer, yet alone shoot it?? The only thing anyone said was “yep.”
We just killed this kids dream hunt in a matter of 5 seconds.
All we could do after that was say “Well, good luck tomorrow.” We got back in the truck and realized what we had done. Poor kid must have thought that those hunters are real (use your imagination).
To this day we feel bad for that kid , but it was funny at the time when he said “I got one too” and our response was priceless.
P.S. Never saw that kid again….
The Deer is Two Miles From HereOpening day of the deer hunt is always filled with excitement and anticipation, even more so when it’s your first hunt.
I had already hunted for some years with my husband before our oldest son joined us. This season would be the first hunt for our second son, Steven. Since we hunt in a MN state forest, we are a little apprehensive on opening morning if some other hunter will be in the area we’ve scouted.
All is well as we approach our stands this November morning. We wish each other success and a safe hunt as we disband, each to our own stands.
It’s an overcast morning with average MN November temperatures (cold). The darkness slowly subsides and the dawn breaks. I take in my surroundings and am thankful to be in the woods on this calm, peaceful morning.
There are occasional shots in the distance but none close enough to be one of my fellow hunters. It is late morning and I’m cold and stiff when I’m suddenly jolted by a single nearby shot. YES!!! It’s from Steve’s direction. I calm my excitement to sit quietly, watchful in case a deer heads my way.
After a time, I make my way down from my stand and head in Steve’s direction. His stand is a distance from my area, on a very wooded, slight hilltop with the ground covered in moss…hence the nickname we use, Moss Ridge. As I approach, Steve is standing in his deer stand with his rifle casually laying across his arm.
“Where’s your deer?” I ask.
He replies “I figure about 2 miles from here by now” in a very disappointed tone. He relates the story. Four does, on a nice trot, passed right in front of his stand, quiet on the mossy hillside. He got a shot off at the last one as it passed him. I chuckle silently to myself at the visual of his story.
“Well, come down Steve and we’ll check it out”. When we get to the area where he thought the deer was when he fired, sure enough, sign of a hit.
As we follow the faint blood trail, I’m hopeful my son has bagged his first deer. Suddenly, the deer jumps up in front of us. Steve confidently brings up his rifle and fires as the deer is bounding away from us. The shot drops her in her tracks.
The thrill and excitement of my son’s first hunt culminates in his bagging a nice doe. He has since taken many deer, including a couple of nice bucks. But nothing can match the memory of being a part of his first deer, standing alongside of him as he takes down that doe.
Posted in honor of Steven’s birthday…Happy Birthday, Steve!
I Had To Wait Until My Legs Were Long EnoughWhen my mom remarried our family became hunters and fishermen. I was only six at the time and I wasn’t big enough to go on the hunting trips. After two or three years, I was allowed go with the family and fish while they hunted. I kept begging my new dad to tag along, promising to be quiet while he hunted. He said my legs weren’t long enough to climb over the downed trees and keep up with him. That just seemed ridiculous to an eight or nine year old. “I could climb over any old tree”, I thought. Now, I was a very small girl for my age and I began to think my legs would ever grow long enough to meet his requirement. Dad’s deer hunting stories fascinated me. He taught me how to look for signs: mushrooms dug around the base of a tree after a rain; the difference between buck and doe tracks and scat; places where they bedded down; and the different game trails.
I don’t remember how old I was when I finally got to hike along. Up before dawn and getting dressed in my brother’s hand-me-down hunting clothes was so exciting. We didn’t wear camo or the orange vest and hat. Those weren’t the stylye in the 50′s – just dull grays and browns. Off we went up the hill to the ridge where he planned to sit and hunt. It was then that I finally understood why I had to be bigger. Some of the logs we climbed over were three feet in diameter and of course the ground was not level. Indeed, I did need longer legs and a stronger body to keep up.
When we reached the first stand, we sat and waited and waited for what seemed like forever to a nine or ten year old who wasn’t used to being still that long. Then it was on to the next spot. That is how the day went. We didn’t see any deer that day, but it didn’t matter to me, because I knew that you didn’t see deer everytime you went out. Tramping through the forest and experiencing the views from the ridge tops was its own reward. When we got back to camp in the afternoon I’m sure I was exhausted from the long and tough hike, yet I know that I would never have admitted it. I didn’t want anything to keep me from being able go again. I felt proud that I could keep up.
Now, I can take my turn swapping hunting stories around the campfire.
