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I Like To Hunt White Tails And Coyotes And Write Storys.


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#1 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 07:21 AM

Muzzle loader deer hunting in southern Michigan.

 

The man steps out the door on to the screened in porch to be greeted by the whines from the chocolate lab that sleeps there. He tells her not today girl it’s a different game we seek. Stepping off the screened in porch his sight is hit by the hoar frost shimmering in the bright moon lite like a hundred thousand diamonds spilled from a diamond peddlers pack. He slowly walks across the lawn to the trail that takes him to the deer blind he has chosen to hunt that day over looking the creek and the old creek bed. It is nestled in a clump of wild dog wood bushes this year loaded with berries.
Soon he settles in the blind and pours a cup of coffee to cool as he watches the day light breaking about him. He hears a flock of turkeys deeper in the woods come off their roost then a rooster pheasant cackles Probably kicked out of its bed by another hunter.
Finally that huge orange orb starts peeking thru the trees and the first of the blue birds arrive to feast on the dog wood berries. Finally the first deer appears coming down the bank of the creek from the picked corn field next door. It is alert using its radar ears to listen to the sounds around it, licking her nose to gather fresh scent in to process for danger. Just seconds behind her is two more does a bit smaller than the first perhaps this springs fawns. They mosey along the creek going farther back in the woods where the pampas grass has a nice stand for the deer to bed in.
With in minutes 6 more does arrive and head for that pampas grass bedding area.
The radio the man carries cackles with the sound of his wife. She says there are two bucks out the living room window across the creek. One she says is a nice 4 point eastern count, the other is huge but she can’t say just how huge. The 4 point decides to go up stream and cross the road the bigger fellow she says is heading for the corn field.
Soon the man sees the big buck he is at the edge of the corn field private property. He watches it as it slowly travels in the direction the does have went but not on the creek bank. The man knows that soon that buck will be down as he has watched another hunter go to a blind about 200 yards down the fence along the corn field. He waited for the report of the gun as he watched the buck work his way along. By this time he had gotten a good look at the rack, not one with huge long tines but huge beams like the arms of a tackle on a foot ball team with 5 short tines about 2 inches long.
The report never came as expected, did the other hunter fall asleep? Was he texting his buddies or a girl friend perhaps.
That buck lived to show him self to the man one more time in the 15 day season but once again not allowing the man a shot.
Such is muzzle loader deer hunting in southern Michigan.

 

:D   Al
 


Edited by alleyyooper, August 15, 2014 - 07:30 AM.

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#2 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 07:26 AM

The great hunting partner.

 

I don’t know just how one gets a hunting partner let alone a great one. A great hunting partner is hard to find and a treasure worth more than a ton of gold. Finding one is a matter of great luck.
I’ve had several hunting partners guys from work who decide we are combatable enough to be around each other with guns and sharp objects. Most of these outings are going out for a day of hunting a certain game animal such as rabbits or partridge, some times it is fishing. Most time there is a agreed time and place to meet for these hunts or fishing expeditions.

One of my best hunting partners was a great one. We spent 45 great years hunting and fishing and a few other things together. We helped each other on building projects as well as other project not hunting related.
I don’t have any Idea why we clicked so well, I suppose it was mostly his doing since I am on the hard side of  being a nice person. Like at work I was called mister personality by most every one.
How we met was at some sort of function my Aunt with throwing where family and friends of her family gathered for a day of fun, food and more fun. I had not been home from Viet Nam a long time so was getting the third degree from family about my being there. When Some one finally got the nerve to ask If I had killed any body I got up and left the table going for a walk in the field behind my aunts house. Isn’t some thing I feel needs to be talked about even today.
 
As I was returning this tall drink of water met me about half way across the field. He starts off with did I shoot trap with a shot gun. I tell him NO, I didn’t even have a clue how it was done or where. He says to me that if I am not doing any thing the next day to meet him at his brother in laws and we would shoot some informal trap behind  the BIL’s house.

I met him the next day at the appointed time, he had told me to bring several boxes of shells telling me that shot size didn’t matter .
Finally they set every thing in place with about 4 boxes of clays. My new friend  started explaining how they their rules were and the object of what they were doing.
We had a good time with a lot of ribbing and such.  I got an invite to join them several times after that.
It came on pheasant season and I was invited to do a couple hunts with them. We had a really good time doing those hunts.  In return I invited them to go duck hunting with me. We had a real good time doing that in my hunting area. I got invited to hunt ducks where they hunted them, I was told to get some chest waders as they hunted by sneaking thru flooding. I liked doing that even better than hunting from blinds around beaver ponds.
 I invited him to deer hunt my dads farm with me. Being as my dad wasn’t much of a hunter  when it came to deer I only knew what I had read in books about it. My new hunting partner taught me nearly every thing I know about deer hunting today. We hunted  deer together for 17 years together both rifle and bow. It was getting crowded what with only 60 acres of wood land. My brother had friends who hunted with him as did my dad there was one of my sisters and my hunting partners son and the second ready to hunt alone too.
He went and found a place for him and his sons to hunt deer.
We still bow hunted  together since he his sons and my brother were the only ones who used a bow.
We also fished together a lot.
I kept hunting my dads place for about 5 more years during firearm season. Then my dads friend brought his son to hunt there and he just seemed to always show up where I was  at and want to stay. Being the cranky SOB I am I told him he had been assigned a very good area to hunt in so he should get back to that area and leave me in piece.
That evening I told my dad I would find a new place of my own to hunt as I was packing to leave.
Just before the next season My oldest sister called and said her Husband wondered if I would hunt with him since his brother in the Air Force had been sent to Texas. I gun hunted there for two years. I was nearly alone all that time as my BIL didn’t hunt on Sundays.
Finally Kare and I decided we would buy a place to retire too in the UPPER. After many trips to look at property a realtor would call and talk to me about and leave the directions to the property in a place for us to pick up and look at the by owner places we saw we bought 37 acres on Big Bay DeNoc surrounded with sever thousands of acres of state and federal land. We closed the Deal Nov 3d 1991. I didn’t deer hunt there that fall.
The next year I had two guys from work who I had hunted with say they would go up and hunt that year with me staying in our travel trailer. Three days before we were to leave they backed out saying that was a awful long ways to go and they didn’t have doe permits in that area.

Kare went with me for my first time hunting there. She used to laugh because  I would be down in a cedar swamp and the deer were laying right behind where I parked the travel trailer.

When I got home I called My friend and asked if he was still hunting with his son, one was in the the service stationed in Colorado and the other was married and living a good distance away. He said no he was just hunting some small woodlots near his home.
When I asked if he wanted to hunt the UPPER with me he asked for directions. He called me back in two weeks and said he had drove up there and looked around and liked what he saw. We both worked second shift but his was finished well before mine was and we were an hour and a half apart me being the most southern. So on November 12th 1992 I called him and said I was finished at work, I was running home for a shower and a change of clothes and would be at his place by 6:00 AM. I got to his place and a fresh cup of coffee was waiting for me as I walked into his house. We loaded his gear up and I told him to drive and I would get some sleep. I never did sleep that day we had so much to catch up on it seemed.
We did some scouting in the afternoon when we got there. We unpacked our gear from the truck and the next day we scouted some more.

ON the forth day I shot a nice 8 point  and he shot a nice 4 point about the same time. We got them back to camp and hung them in a big oak tree near the trailer. The next day we were out hunting and got soaked during a rain storm. All our hunting clothes were wet and we just couldn’t find a place to hang all of them to dry. I fixed that by the next season.
We hunted for 14 more years together there till he died in May 2005.

 

 

:D   Al

 


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#3 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 07:29 AM

Squirrel trouble.

 

Some years ago I packed in a climbing tree stand to an area I had scouted for deer hunting. No sooner had I got up the tree I choose than those dam squirrels started making a ruckus at the base of the tree. I decided I would shoot one and that would put an end to all that racket. I took the shot and hit the one squirrel dead center right behind the head, arrow sticking nearly straight up with nearly half in the ground. Squirrel refused to die or lay still. It started running around and around that arrow but failed to work it's self free or the arrow loose from the ground. Finally deciding I would get no piece I worked my way down the tree, grabbed a short hunk of stout tree limb I went to the squirrel and clubed it a mighty stroke behind the head. Squirrel instantly layed still, so I took it to a tree close by that had a low V branch I would be able to find in the dark as I left and placed the squirrel there.
Back up the tree I went with my stand and had about 10 minutes of silence. That crazy squirrel was standing in that V yelling bloody murder. Finally I could not handle it any longer I decided I would club that squirrel again and this time take his head off with my buck.
Appeared that the one foot of the squirrel was stuck in that V, but he kept dodging that club for what seemed half the afternoon. Finally I got a good blow in as my brother came walking up asking if I were having a boxing match with a bear of some thing. Said I had made enough noise to scare any deer with in 100 miles away. My answer to him was to hold up the squirrel and ask what he had to show for the afternoons hunt.
Took me a really long time to live down the great squirrel killer badge I had hung on me over that hunt.

 

 

:D   Al

 


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#4 hamman ONLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 08:35 AM

Great stories  Al. I like to hunt and write also. Keep writing and posting.                                                                                           Roger.



#5 petrj6 ONLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 03:52 PM

     BANG!!!!!!!!!!!    FLOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  that's my hunting story.


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#6 superaben OFFLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 06:13 PM

     BANG!!!!!!!!!!!    FLOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  that's my hunting story.

 

Then there's mine.

 

"Bang"

 

"Bang, bang, bang, bang"

 

You get the picture.  No flop here. :rolling:

 

Ben W.


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#7 oldedeeres ONLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 06:15 PM

I like to hunt white tails--- we call them jumpers up here, ---and read stories. Keep them coming please.


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#8 oldedeeres ONLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 06:22 PM

Mostly I shoot them right behind the ear. You're right, there's a lot of deer behind the ear, all the way to the tail, lol
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#9 petrj6 ONLINE  

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Posted August 15, 2014 - 06:27 PM

   I never miss and never take a shot I am not sure of.  Ammo is to expensive to be wasting it.


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#10 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 16, 2014 - 07:10 AM

Eccitement.

 

 

Childs Christmas type excitement
I cannot tell you how old I was when I saw my first deer. The first 5 years in my life I spent about half way between Clarkston and Ortonville Michigan. I even started school in Ortonville but soon my folks had found a farm near Highland where dad could be happy farming to his heart’s desire. He still had the dream of owning his own farm someday.
I do not remember ever seeing a deer at any of those locations. I don’t even remember seeing tracks of a deer there. We spent a lot of time outdoors doing our farm chores and playing things farm kids in the early 1950’s did. We wandered the fields where the cattle grazed waded the ponds where the cattle drank and climbed many of the trees in the fence rows.
In 1953 my folks bought a farm North of Evart Michigan, I had an aunt moms sister and uncle who lived not far away in Marion Michigan. Aunt and uncle dads brother that lived in Clare area and a whole slew of cousins in the Clare Farwell area moms birth place and where she grew up.
Dad’s new farm was split into 3 different parcels, a 40 where the house barn and other out buildings were.  38.5 acres across the road with an old abandoned house, Would have been 40 acres but many years ago 1.5 acres was sold to the school district and a one room stone school house built. Some years latter dad sold a small chunk in a far corner to someone who built a retirement home there near their birth place, and again a chunk to the state on a high hill where they built a 300 foot tower. Then there was the 80 about a mile and a bit down the road.
The 80 was roughly half cleared but with only one big workable field and a small chunk of a field. The rest was woods, woods had been logged off a couple years before dad and mom bought the place. It was full of small popple saplings really thick. Excellent deer and partridge cover. The tops left from the logging heated the house for at least 3 years before they got so rotted they didn’t make fire wood.
We would get the wood in a huge pile called a buzz pile, that was done by piling the wood on wagon running gears and skidding it. Once the pile was big enough and the need for fire wood was there we would buzz that pile of wood up and haul it to the house that had a wood shed hooked to it.
I believe it was there I saw my very first whitetail deer. We were buzzing wood; I remember it was cold but no snow yet. I was at my normal station taking the cut off chunks and throwing them in the pickup and wagon bed, I am sure it was deer season.  Three does possibly mom and that years fawns came running up from the south getting very close to us before veering off to the west. Those deer got my heart to raceing with excitement. I think it did something to my dad also. Soon after that dad and I would take the old Stevens 16ga. Shot gun with a slug in the barrel and go sneaking {I thought it was then.} thru the woods searching for a buck dad said. Never seen any bucks just a bunch of white tails waving bye bye at us. I did that sneaking thing with dad for several more years then the day came when I could also do my sneaking thru the woods as I had my birthday soon after the deer season of the year before. Armed with a very old well used Iver Johnson single shot 410 - 44 lug in one , I ventured forth for my very first deer season Nov. 15th 1961. Opening day I did indeed shot a nice buck, a wounding shot as I got buck fever real bad. So bad I shot 5 times at that buck and only hit it once. Dad didn’t believe me when we met soon after and went to lunch. I recruited my younger brother to go help me look for the buck when he got home from school. He did get to see the blood in the trail but we never found the buck.
This morning I am on the computer doing things and decided it was time for my morning cup of tea. I stand up to go into the kitchen. Out the living room window I see 6 fawns and 4 does. As usual my heart starts pounding as I go get the camera. Ya that excitement from long ago by the buzz pile is still alive and well. I’m 67 years old now and have harvested many a deer with many different rifles and recently a slug gun, bow and arrow In many different area of Michigan and I still like to just watch the deer. Also being a realist I know that the heard also need thinning or some disease will thin th3em out for us and the meat will go to waste.

 

:D   Al

 



#11 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 16, 2014 - 07:12 AM

Eccitement.

 

 

Childs Christmas type excitement
I cannot tell you how old I was when I saw my first deer. The first 5 years in my life I spent about half way between Clarkston and Ortonville Michigan. I even started school in Ortonville but soon my folks had found a farm near Highland where dad could be happy farming to his heart’s desire. He still had the dream of owning his own farm someday.
I do not remember ever seeing a deer at any of those locations. I don’t even remember seeing tracks of a deer there. We spent a lot of time outdoors doing our farm chores and playing things farm kids in the early 1950’s did. We wandered the fields where the cattle grazed waded the ponds where the cattle drank and climbed many of the trees in the fence rows.
In 1953 my folks bought a farm North of Evart Michigan, I had an aunt moms sister and uncle who lived not far away in Marion Michigan. Aunt and uncle dads brother that lived in Clare area and a whole slew of cousins in the Clare Farwell area moms birth place and where she grew up.
Dad’s new farm was split into 3 different parcels, a 40 where the house barn and other out buildings were.  38.5 acres across the road with an old abandoned house, Would have been 40 acres but many years ago 1.5 acres was sold to the school district and a one room stone school house built. Some years latter dad sold a small chunk in a far corner to someone who built a retirement home there near their birth place, and again a chunk to the state on a high hill where they built a 300 foot tower. Then there was the 80 about a mile and a bit down the road.
The 80 was roughly half cleared but with only one big workable field and a small chunk of a field. The rest was woods, woods had been logged off a couple years before dad and mom bought the place. It was full of small popple saplings really thick. Excellent deer and partridge cover. The tops left from the logging heated the house for at least 3 years before they got so rotted they didn’t make fire wood.
We would get the wood in a huge pile called a buzz pile, that was done by piling the wood on wagon running gears and skidding it. Once the pile was big enough and the need for fire wood was there we would buzz that pile of wood up and haul it to the house that had a wood shed hooked to it.
I believe it was there I saw my very first whitetail deer. We were buzzing wood; I remember it was cold but no snow yet. I was at my normal station taking the cut off chunks and throwing them in the pickup and wagon bed, I am sure it was deer season.  Three does possibly mom and that years fawns came running up from the south getting very close to us before veering off to the west. Those deer got my heart to raceing with excitement. I think it did something to my dad also. Soon after that dad and I would take the old Stevens 16ga. Shot gun with a slug in the barrel and go sneaking {I thought it was then.} thru the woods searching for a buck dad said. Never seen any bucks just a bunch of white tails waving bye bye at us. I did that sneaking thing with dad for several more years then the day came when I could also do my sneaking thru the woods as I had my birthday soon after the deer season of the year before. Armed with a very old well used Iver Johnson single shot 410 - 44 lug in one , I ventured forth for my very first deer season Nov. 15th 1961. Opening day I did indeed shot a nice buck, a wounding shot as I got buck fever real bad. So bad I shot 5 times at that buck and only hit it once. Dad didn’t believe me when we met soon after and went to lunch. I recruited my younger brother to go help me look for the buck when he got home from school. He did get to see the blood in the trail but we never found the buck.
This morning I am on the computer doing things and decided it was time for my morning cup of tea. I stand up to go into the kitchen. Out the living room window I see 6 fawns and 4 does. As usual my heart starts pounding as I go get the camera. Ya that excitement from long ago by the buzz pile is still alive and well. I’m 67 years old now and have harvested many a deer with many different rifles and recently a slug gun, bow and arrow In many different area of Michigan and I still like to just watch the deer. Also being a realist I know that the heard also need thinning or some disease will thin th3em out for us and the meat will go to waste.

 

:D   Al

 


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#12 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 16, 2014 - 07:14 AM

My first deer hunting buck.

 

Some things escape my memory, mostly recent things like taking my meds without having to be reminded to do so. Like most people the first of anything they did is a memory that sticks with one. My first buck is such a memory that to me in unforgettable. I can’t remember where my brother was or where he was. I am sure he was old enough to deer hunt by that time on his own even.
   Something was going on with dad that morning and the day before the season even. Dad would never go deer hunting in my memory without those peppermint pinwheel candies. He had forgot to pick some up in town so before we could go hunting dad had to drive to a nearby small store and gas station that always opened early during the first week of deer season.
I grabbed my rifle case and filled my pockets with seven 30-30 shells, put on my hunting things and went out the door to the truck where dad was waiting. We got dads pinwheels and headed for the wood lot dad owned. We parked and dad said where the shells were. I figured he had gotten his own and said so. I said I’ll give you 4 and I’ll take the 3 that are left.  As we are doing that the neighbor with friends drive by with his tractor and big trailer. They used the trail on our place to get to the property behind dads.
As I walked the trail back to get in the wooded area of that land I see where 3 deer and crossed the trail stepping in the tractor tracks at the corner where a corn field and the woods met. I decided to follow those tracks in the fresh snow. About 70 yards in the woods I see a flash as 3 deer jump up one being a nice buck and disappeared over a hill. I started the slow tracking thing I had read about in an old deer hunting methods book from the town library that summer. I could only hunt part of the day as I had been bad all summer and fall getting traffic ticket after ticket racking up points to the point I had to go to the secretary of state’s office and take a test in the afternoon. I slowly follow those tracks standing to one side of them and searching a head for signs of them bedding down. I had covered many a yard when I hear a rifle shot ahead then another and another for a total of 3. I figured I had lost my chance at that buck I had seen for just a bit. I was standing there trying to decide what I was going to do when there was a crashing of brush in the direction I had been traveling just a little bit ago.  All of a sudden there is that buck or a buck with a real nice rack. Up came the 30-30 sights lined up on the chest of the buck. The charge of 3031 powder lit off and sent the 150 grain silver tip on its way. The buck stumbled but kept to his feet and moving over a hill. I got a second shot off but hit a big popple tree, I ran as fast as I could to the top of the hill and got the third shot off hitting the buck in the left rear hip and he went down never to rise again. I had just ruined some meat for no reason at all except lack of experience. I field dress the buck hooked my drag rope around his very nice rack with the front hooves tucked in them. I drug that buck back to the last trail I had crossed and for some reason turned the wrong way, of course I didn’t know it was the wrong way till I hit the big power lines that cross the trail. I turn around and drag that buck back the several hundred yards I had already covered. I finally go to the road about 11:30 AM. I see a neighbor loading his hunting stuff in his trunk so he could go to lunch. I ask if he could stop by the house and send my mom down to pick me and the buck up, I’m just a bit over a mile down the road from home. Charlie said we would just load the buck on his trunk and he would take me home. At home Charlie helped me and mom hang it in the barns dry floor. I thanked Charlie for the ride and help, then went in to get ready for my test.
I passed the test with flying colors but that told them I know the law so the speeding was me acting up. I lost my driving licenses for a year. By November 15th 1966 it didn’t matter because I was in Viet Nam.
In 51 years I have harvested many bucks but none of the 8PT’s are as big as that first one.

 

:D   Al
 



#13 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 16, 2014 - 07:17 AM

Eccitement.

 

Childs Christmas type excitement
I cannot tell you how old I was when I saw my first deer. The first 5 years in my life I spent about half way between Clarkston and Ortonville Michigan. I even started school in Ortonville but soon my folks had found a farm near Highland where dad could be happy farming to his heart’s desire. He still had the dream of owning his own farm someday.
I do not remember ever seeing a deer at any of those locations. I don’t even remember seeing tracks of a deer there. We spent a lot of time outdoors doing our farm chores and playing things farm kids in the early 1950’s did. We wandered the fields where the cattle grazed waded the ponds where the cattle drank and climbed many of the trees in the fence rows.
In 1953 my folks bought a farm North of Evart Michigan, I had an aunt moms sister and uncle who lived not far away in Marion Michigan. Aunt and uncle dads brother that lived in Clare area and a whole slew of cousins in the Clare Farwell area moms birth place and where she grew up.
Dad’s new farm was split into 3 different parcels, a 40 where the house barn and other out buildings were.  38.5 acres across the road with an old abandoned house, Would have been 40 acres but many years ago 1.5 acres was sold to the school district and a one room stone school house built. Some years latter dad sold a small chunk in a far corner to someone who built a retirement home there near their birth place, and again a chunk to the state on a high hill where they built a 300 foot tower. Then there was the 80 about a mile and a bit down the road.
The 80 was roughly half cleared but with only one big workable field and a small chunk of a field. The rest was woods, woods had been logged off a couple years before dad and mom bought the place. It was full of small popple saplings really thick. Excellent deer and partridge cover. The tops left from the logging heated the house for at least 3 years before they got so rotted they didn’t make fire wood.
We would get the wood in a huge pile called a buzz pile, that was done by piling the wood on wagon running gears and skidding it. Once the pile was big enough and the need for fire wood was there we would buzz that pile of wood up and haul it to the house that had a wood shed hooked to it.
I believe it was there I saw my very first whitetail deer. We were buzzing wood; I remember it was cold but no snow yet. I was at my normal station taking the cut off chunks and throwing them in the pickup and wagon bed, I am sure it was deer season.  Three does possibly mom and that years fawns came running up from the south getting very close to us before veering off to the west. Those deer got my heart to raceing with excitement. I think it did something to my dad also. Soon after that dad and I would take the old Stevens 16ga. Shot gun with a slug in the barrel and go sneaking {I thought it was then.} thru the woods searching for a buck dad said. Never seen any bucks just a bunch of white tails waving bye bye at us. I did that sneaking thing with dad for several more years then the day came when I could also do my sneaking thru the woods as I had my birthday soon after the deer season of the year before. Armed with a very old well used Iver Johnson single shot 410 - 44 lug in one , I ventured forth for my very first deer season Nov. 15th 1961. Opening day I did indeed shot a nice buck, a wounding shot as I got buck fever real bad. So bad I shot 5 times at that buck and only hit it once. Dad didn’t believe me when we met soon after and went to lunch. I recruited my younger brother to go help me look for the buck when he got home from school. He did get to see the blood in the trail but we never found the buck.
This morning I am on the computer doing things and decided it was time for my morning cup of tea. I stand up to go into the kitchen. Out the living room window I see 6 fawns and 4 does. As usual my heart starts pounding as I go get the camera. Ya that excitement from long ago by the buzz pile is still alive and well. I’m 65 years old now and have harvested many a deer with many different rifles and recently a slug gun, bow and arrow In many different area of Michigan and I still like to just watch the deer. Also being a realist I know that the heard also need thinning or some disease will thin th3em out for us and the meat will go to waste.  

 

:D   Al


 



#14 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

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Posted August 16, 2014 - 07:25 AM

Deer hunting.

 

 

This November 15th will be my 54th year of fire arm deer hunting where I could carry my own firearm. I’ve missed only one opening day in those years, I was in Viet Nam for the 1966 season; I was AWOL for the opening of the 1967 season.  I look forward to opening day like kids look forward to Easter, Halloween and Christmas. I don’t know what the draw is, like the early years we dressed with what poor farm kids could afford. Hated the wool long johns of the day so did without them just jeans and a heavy shirt of some kind and a red hooded sweat shirt. Usually just our leather farmer boots with some heavy socks. If we had of sat still we would have frozen to death, shoot ifin we would have even still hunted properly we would have frozen to death too. In the early years we were kids who knew what a deer looked like and walked all the old logging roads in our section and as many deer runs as we could and not run into other hunters. Isn’t the people I’ve met either, some were out and out AHOLES. Some were killers and not hunters some were greedy and selfish. 
My dad had friends that came to hunt on the farm we boys were many times supposed to guide them to decent areas. We usually did but they would many times go off on their own, get lost and trespass.
I got my first deer rifle in 1963 for my birthday well after the 1963 deer season. It was a used model 94 Winchester 30-30. Even after I could afford much nicer bolt action rifles I took that old whinny out and it always went out on snowy and rainy days. It became known as Al’s slumming gun. I harvested a lot of bucks with it. I have since gotten a bunch or Remington 700’s 243, 7MM08, 308 and a 300 win mag. I have shot deer with them all at one time or another. I also have a 870 slugger and have harvested deer with it also. Just can’t seem to get one with any muzzle loader.
My dad in the early years was learning just like his sons, he was a farmer who hunted. We learned from books and magazines and cousin Rick when we got a bit older who had a uncle who was a hunter and market hunter at one time. I happened upon my first buck by accident and didn’t collect it in 1960. I shot my and tagged my first buck in 1965 but then waited till 1971 for the next one. I get this feeling each and every time. Kare says I also get hyper. I give my thanks to the Great Spirit ever time also. With the years we could harvest two bucks I have come close  to having harvested a buck for every year I have hunted. I harvested a little 6 point in 2003 on a beach on Big Bay DeNoc with my dad’s deer rifle he handed over to me when he quit deer hunting. I wrote a story about that hunt and deer that got published in a 2004 issue of Michigan Out of Doors that dad never lived to read.
I have hunted woods and swamps of western mid Michigan. The south central UP cranberry bogs , cedar swamps and my favorite place a blind on the beach on Big Bay DeNoc and the southeastern Michigan farm wood lots. They all require different methods but the same patience is required. Along the way I came to see more than the forest I saw the trees in the forest, I’ve seen and eaten the cranberries from my very own bog.
 After that 2003 buck I also changed what I hunted.  There was just my wife and I so I started hunting nothing but the bigger bucks. Yes I have shot littler ones that came in to my woods with a wound but that was an exception to my rules today.
I have seen some things that were funny, I have seen things that were strange and down right amazing things.
I like to be where I can see deer, I love my southern Michigan home because I do see deer nearly every day. Just this evening 3 yearly lings were chasing each other thru the woods just 50 yards out my living room window. I have watched eagles take baths in the bay, I have seen a hunter walking down the trail to a blind without his rifle (right Robb?LOL) I’ve had a black bear lift his leg and pee on a tree just 15 feet away from me too. I have had hunters who nearly stepped on me before seeing me. I’ve been lost till I finally said to myself there is nothing wrong with that compass as I crossed my own tracks in a cedar swamp.

 

 

 

 

 

:D   Al

 

 


  • oldedeeres said thank you

#15 alleyyooper OFFLINE  

alleyyooper
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Posted August 17, 2014 - 12:56 PM

Only one of ya liked my stories? I am surprised to say the least.

 

:D   Al






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