Season of disappointment

The first year of my retirement from the Navy was a huge year of change for me. I was newly divorced but I still owned a house with my Ex-wife which required me to interact with her more times than I would have liked. With the exception of one time though, I remained civil. I have some very good friends that opened their house to me until my own home sold; little did I know it would take 2 ½ years for that to occur! Then there was my new career and that wasn’t going as I had planned either. All in all it was a very disjointed time in my life. Normally when I’m feeling out of sorts with myself I would head to the water to go fishing but with my new living arrangements I had my boat in storage so I didn’t have that to go to.

My recent success at hunting had me longing for the fall again and my thoughts often wandered to it. In the meantime, I spent my time “hunting” two-legged Bambis! It had been over 17 years since I was dating and I was completely clueless on how to do it! My lack of success that year (and subsequent years) had me shaking my head for quite a long time.

As the year went on I prepared for the upcoming season by studying overhead maps of my hunting areas to gain insight on where good stand positions would be. One stand location really stood out to me, it was in a funnel area between two fields and I was absolutely drawn to it. As opening day was approaching I couldn’t get my mind off of that location so I decided that I would commence my season by hunting there.

Opening morning I awoke a couple of hours before daylight and quickly showered to descent myself. For my non-hunting friends, scent control is a big aspect of hunting because a deer’s sense of smell is much greater than what we possess and they use it to find and avoid danger. I got dressed in my camouflage, grabbed my bow and equipment and made a very slow walk to my stand as to not break into a sweat (ruining all of the de-scenting I just did). I climbed up to my tree stand and situated everything for the morning hunt and settled in to wait for morning to break. I don’t think I can properly convey what a glorious feeling it is to be relaxing in your stand before daybreak and watching the woods wake up in front of you…absolutely amazing! Fifteen minutes after settling into my stand I heard a noise…something of size moving through the leaves towards my stand! It is still over an hour before it will be light enough to be able to shoot but out in the darkness something is coming. I don’t get rattled easily but it is somewhat unnerving to have an unseen animal coming towards you and to have no idea what it is. I strained my eyes to try to see the intruder that was making its way to me down the same path that I took. The animal came right to the base of my tree…17 feet below me was something that knew I had come by and was trying to figure out where and what I was. Then I heard a sound I had never heard before…a grunt! Deer can communicate with each other and a grunt is a way of saying, “here I am”. I relaxed a little after hearing it because I knew I wasn’t going to have a bear try to climb up into the stand with me! LOL! The deer milled around at the base of my tree for about five minutes before moving away, then it returned as to make one last check to see where the human he had smelled had gone to and then disappeared for the rest of the morning. Forty-five minutes later there was finally enough light to actually shoot but the show was over for the day, nothing else materialized.

This following weekend I found myself climbing a tree in the afternoon to a particularly good stand that overlooked a field edge. Two of my hunting partners were hunting other areas of the farm so I chose the field edge as to put some distance between the three of us. It was a rather warm October day so I had taken my time again to keep from sweating and spreading my scent around. I had been up in the stand about an hour when I heard something approaching from my right. I looked down to see a three point buck about 35 yards away working its way towards me. I slowly stood up when his head went behind a tree and I readied myself for a shot. The buck continued perfectly to a slightly quartering away shot at 19 yards…I drew my bow, anchored the site on the vitals and released the arrow. I watched as the arrow flew straight through the buck and out the other side! The buck whirled around trying to figure out what had happened but it couldn’t see anything. I was overly excited but I should have realized by his reaction that it was not as good of a hit as I thought it was. He walked to the edge of the woods, looked wobbly to me, then stepped in and disappeared. I was on cloud nine, my first buck! I waited until what I thought was 30 minutes and I climbed down to retrieve the arrow. It was covered in dark blood, not the bright red frothy kind that we bowhunters want to see…but I didn’t know any better yet. I should have backed out and headed over to the house and let the deer bed down and die…I made a huge mistake that still bothers me to this day. I walked over to where I saw the deer go into the woods and when I did I thought I heard something move off into the woods. I went back to the house to gather up my hunting buddies to help me track and recover my first buck. Instead of waiting four hours like I probably should have, I was back with my friends less than 30 minutes later and we started to track the blood. After about 30 minutes it became apparent to us that the deer was not hit as bad as I had initially thought and we backed out to give him time to expire. I mortally wounded animal will push on from adrenaline if pressed where as an animal that isn’t pressed will bed down and expire. We came out and I headed to the store to get a good flashlight for a night tracking expedition. We went back out at midnight and after a couple of hours we lost the trail…I was devastated! The thought of mortally wounding a deer and not recovering it was almost unbearable to me! The next morning we went back out and actually found the continuation of the blood trail (on our hands and knees no less). Unfortunately it eventually petered out and we were left to do a grid search of the area. Three of us combed the area but no sign of the deer could be found…I was officially distraught. I realize that the deer was recycled into nature but the thought of me causing his demise still bothers me to this day.

I hunted sporadically throughout the rest of the season and I passed on two shot opportunities…one because I was still spooked over losing the buck and the other because I had to follow the landowner’s rules. I was not allowed to shoot “young” deer and despite having a young of the year within 5 yards and completely unaware of my presence, I had to turn down the shot. My season ended without me releasing another arrow and I still had a heavy heart over the buck earlier in the year.

Next Blog: Open the floodgates

Suggested reading: The Daily Coyote by Shreve Stockton

A Stick and a String

Now that I decided that I was going attempt bowhunting I needed to purchase a bow (duh!), unfortunately it can never be that easy. I had to decide whether I wanted to go the modern route with a compound bow or the traditional route with a longbow or recurve bow. Furthermore, when selecting a bow you need to worry about things such as poundage, draw lengths, and feel…all of which I knew nothing about! It was time to enlist the aid of my bowhunting friends to get me set up correctly.

My best friend had an old compound bow that I was welcome to use if I wanted to but I wanted something that was all of my own. He prefers the more traditional, minimalistic bow and hunts with a custom made recurve bow. A recurve bow in its simplest design is just a stick and a string. The arrow is rests on a “shelf” and not an arrow rest. The hunter (or archer) must canter the bow slightly to ensure the arrow doesn’t fall off the shelf. When the hunter draws the bowstring back, the full weight of the limbs is being held. The only additional items that you will usually find on this type of bow are string silencers which deaden the vibration from releasing the string and make the bow quieter. Unlike a gun, an arrow travels much slower than the speed of sound so bowhunters are anal in their attempt to make their bows as quiet as possible. You wouldn’t think that a deer would be able to move fast enough to avoid a speeding arrow but they can and will!

Selecting a traditional bow would have caused me to go through hours upon hours of practice to get the feel of releasing the arrow properly and “willing” it to the target. Traditional archery tackle is an art form all to itself and the best archers are incredible when it comes to how accurate they are. A very good representation of the mental and physical attributes that a traditional archer goes through is represented by Nicolas Cage in The Weatherman. As someone that was very unsure of whether or not I could actually release an arrow on a live animal or not I decided to go with a compound bow.

A compound bow is the modern day version of the bow and it is worlds apart from a traditional bow. When comparing the two it is like a Ferrari compared to a Model “T”. The biggest difference a non-archer will notice is the addition of cams and pulleys. The addition of these allows for two things, a much faster arrow flight and a weight let off for the archer pulling the string…I better explain. With a traditional bow the archer needs to hold the full weight of the string as they increase the tension from drawing the string back. With a compound bow, the archer initially has the full weight of the string until it gets to a break over point and the tension to the archer is reduced significantly. The bow that I own is set up for a 60 pound draw but there is a 75% let off when I get to the break over point so while I’m at full draw I only have to hold 15 pounds back. It is much easier for a compound shooter to hold the bow at full draw and steady their self before releasing the arrow. Compound bows also usually are equipped with a sight that allows the archer to dial in where to aim for certain ranges. They usually have a specialized arrow rest to hold the arrow as freely as possible as well. Compound bows are constantly being “improved” by manufactures trying to create the fastest arrow flight available and the quietest as well. The funny thing about this is that the arrow is never going to fly as fast as a bullet so there will always be game that is missed due to an animal “jumping the string” (hearing the arrow released and reacting before the arrow hits them).

I chose to go with a compound bow simply because I knew that I could gain confidence quicker with a bow that had a sight than to have to rely on muscle memory. I went shopping with a close friend who is an excellent bowhunter and he helped me find the correct bow for myself. I selected a Reflex Buckskin (see picture above) set up for a 60 pound draw and a 29” draw length (how far you pull the string back). I had all of the bells and whistles attached to the bow and I left the store extremely happy. Now, I do need to interject something here…there are two different types of people in this world, big picture or concept driven people (like myself) and then there are the detail oriented folks. Let me just say that I am very glad I have some very close friends who are the latter because when it comes to setting up your bow, the detail oriented folks are masters at dialing everything in to function perfectly! Me on the other hand, I’d get fed up quickly and throw the bow in the corner! I have a file with every little setting for my bow (thanks Glenn) so it can be reset if anything ever goes wrong.

I brought the bow back and immediately started to practice with it and I quickly became proficient out to 30 yards. Every day that it wasn’t raining I would step outside and shoot at least a dozen arrows to keep my skill up and to make the bow feel as though it was just an extension of my body. I found that I quickly grew bored of taking aim at a static target until I was shown a “game” to help practice aim and judge distance in the field…”stump shooting”. I would go out on a trail with three friends and someone would pick out a target to aim at. Our arrows were tipped with a special type of head called a judo point that had metal prongs to keep the arrow from burying into the soil or wood. We each would take aim at the target and one by one we would shoot at it. If someone hit the target then that person would chose the next target. It was great practice because we would have to estimate the distance in real life scenarios (over hanging limbs, wind, shadows, etc…) and make compensations for it. I LOVED IT!!! It was the best way to expand my focus on putting an arrow exactly where I wanted to and the camaraderie of practicing with friends in the woods was second to none. As the year went on I found myself increasingly ready to attempt bowhunting but I was still unsure of whether or not I could let an arrow loose on an actual animal.

Next week: Drawing Blood

Factoid: Do you know the difference between an archer and a bowhunter? An archer wants to see how far away they can get away from a target and still hit it…a bowhunter wants to see how close he can get to the target and make a clean, ethical kill.

Underway, Shift Colors!

Towards the end of my high school experience, I spent every chance I could chasing fish. I was a kid who was painfully shy around most people but get me on the water and a new persona emerged, confident and somewhat cocky. I excelled at trout fishing and I rarely met anyone I felt knew more than me. I fell into a “meat hog” stage where I harvested as many trout as I could until one day I realized that I had far too many fish in the freezer and it was time for a change…enter catch and release fishing! To be quite honest, catch and release fishing made me even cockier because I watched all these “lesser fishermen” struggle to catch a few trout, meanwhile I would be catching as many as 40 a day!

All good things come to an end and the “real world” was quickly approaching. My mother sat me down and attempted to motivate me towards buckling down and taking school serious so I would go to college. She offered me three choices for the following year:

1. Go to college and they would only pay for “A’s” and “B’s”
2. Get a job but I had to move out of the house when I turned 18
3. Join the military

Well, Mom’s ultimatum backfired on her. I knew I wasn’t mature enough to handle college; I wasn’t a bad student but I definitely wasn’t a good student either. If a subject interested me I tended to do very well, if not I would usually skate by with minimum effort exerted. Going to work wasn’t an option either! I knew I wasn’t ready to be a bill paying adult yet, I was still a kid! I chose the last choice and my mother was distraught! I enlisted in the Navy’s delayed entry program while I still was in high school and reported to boot camp three months after graduating.

The Navy was an eye opening experience for me and meeting people from all over the country was exciting. I still was a pretty quiet kid but boot camp has a way of bringing you out of your shell some. I finally started to buckle down somewhat and fishing became my outlet for stress relief; I started to care less about the results and more about the experience of being outside. I reported to Pensacola Florida for my basic “A” school, a Mecca for a myriad of saltwater species. I expanded my saltwater fishing experiences as I chased after cobia, spanish mackerel, king mackerel, pompano, redfish, and speckled trout…oh yeah; I finally started chasing after girls as well! They were never as easy to catch as the fish and at times I had some difficult decisions on whether I would chase them or fish during the weekend.

When I reported to my first ship stationed out of Norfolk Virginia I found that I really excelled at my job. I had very good mentors that grilled me mercilessly to know my job inside and out and I relished the challenge. I spent 18 months learning how to operate my gear on the USS Virginia before returning to Pensacola for a year of technical training. Just prior to my return I was promoted and I arrived back in Pensacola somewhat cocky and arrogant. For the first time in my life I had people who wanted to know me because of my success and I definitely took advantage of it. I can’t say that I’m proud of the way I behaved then…in fact, looking back now I think I was a major ass! The one thing about me that didn’t change was my love for getting outside and I spent more hours than I can count angling for fish…and girls, and I actually had a decent success rate with both.

At the end of my technical training I reported to a training detachment for the USS Kitty Hawk in Norfolk Virginia. I arrived there with all intentions of continuing my haughty ways and set my sights on an attractive girl I knew from being stationed there before. It’s funny the curve balls life throws your way when you least expect it, I had no intention of getting into a “real relationship” but somehow I fell into one. My outdoor pursuits waned some as most of my free time was dedicated to someone that was exactly the opposite of me in every way, though I didn’t think so then. A short 2 ½ years later I was “caught” and married at the ripe old age of 23. Married life required me to actually earn money to support my “family” so instead of leaving the Navy at the end of my enlistment and going to college I chose to reenlist.

During this timeframe I did start a new outdoor pursuit that was completely foreign to me; a coworker introduced me to bass fishing; more specifically, tournament bass fishing. For a cocky young man that loved to fish, this was absolutely addicting! I was able to take an outdoor pursuit that I loved and also compete in it as well…what a rush! Tournament bass fishing was unlike anything I had ever done before, instead of taking fish for the table a great deal of effort and care was spent ensuring that the bass remained alive in aerated livewells. If a fish died you were penalized severely and in a sport that is determined by ounces, this could be very costly. Bass fishing came pretty easy to me due to my intensive background in angling for other species. There were different techniques and tackle I had to learn but overall the switch to pursuing a new species wasn’t difficult. My interest in tournament bass fishing peaked soon after I was married as I found myself in a relationship that I honestly didn’t know what I was doing in. All of our differences that I thought were exciting before we were married were magnified into major relationship issues afterwards. My solution to these issues was to do what I always did when I was stressed; I headed to the water as much as possible. I purchased a boat and threw myself into the sport and as has always been the case when it came to fishing, I became very good, very quickly!

I had two people that really influenced how I fished for bass; one fished by total instinct and the other fished logically. My friend DJ would fish where and what felt right to him and disregarded what bass fishing experts would do in the same conditions. My friend Curt on the other hand, was an engineer by trade and he looked at logical seasonal patterns and patterned his techniques and locations based on that. I fell right in the middle of both of them, I would fish logically when it suited me and at other times I would do what felt right. The truly interesting thing was that all of us were successful in the local tournaments even though we had very different approaches. I also managed to acquire some sponsors after a good friend that I had taken in as my own protégé to the sport made some timely phone calls to a regional distributor and we both lucked into some entry level deals.

As much as I love this sport I can honestly say now that it was addicting to me and as with all addictions, ultimately destructive in nature. I no longer had a relief from my normal day-to-day stressors and the sheer amount of tournaments that I was competing in became additional stress. I poured my money into new and better tackle, gas for my boat, better boating equipment, and a countless other expenses (creating even more stress). I definitely used this obsession as an escape from my marriage since early on I realized I wasn’t getting what I needed and honestly, for the first time in my life my relationship with nature was disconnected as well. I stopped enjoying all the “little things” that my outdoor pursuits had always given me and somewhat resented having to go fishing every weekend. The Navy eventually gave me the break from fishing and my marriage that I desperately needed by deploying me three times in a five year period. It was during this time that I was introduced to something that would start the change in the way I viewed the outdoors.

Next week: The Religion of the Outdoors

A modern day man reconnected with nature and our primitive past through bow hunting.

How does a man that was born and raised in the suburbs of Philadelphia decide to take up bow hunting at the age of 37? The journey was interesting to say the least but when I finally reached this destination I realized that I found something much more; I found I had awakened a part of me I never knew I had. A long-suppressed past of human interaction with nature emerged and my personal relationship with the natural world was forever changed.

I intend to update this blog weekly depending on my work schedule and of course, my hunting schedule. I’ll plan to guide you through my upbringing and initial introduction to the wild world around us, all the way up to the present with my current hunting trips. You’ll be privy to all of my preparations for a future adventure in the mountains of Colorado next September. I won’t sugar coat anything at all, every high and low I experience associated with hunting will be written about…including my thoughts on controversial topics. So let's get this blog started!

Havertown Pennsylvania is a wonderful place to grow up for the stereotypical suburban upbringing…plenty of parks and playgrounds to keep kids active outside. My days were filled with playing sports at school and plenty of childhood games in our neighborhood at home. I learned to love being outside and I preferred it over any indoor pursuits. The only thing that my neighborhood was really lacking was any true outdoor pursuit such as hunting and fishing. I realize now that I was extremely lucky, I had grandparents that lived in an adjoining township that had a one acre shallow pond behind their house. I absolutely loved going there; I would spend my days fishing for bluegills, bullheads, and carp. When I would tire of fishing there was always the creek that fed and drained the pond to explore…chasing frogs and snakes along the creek was always a thrill for me. I don’t think I could spend more than 15 minutes at my grandparent’s place before I would be covered in mud; Grammy’s mud room was aptly named!

Spending time at my Grandparent’s home also had some other added benefits; my Grammy was absolutely enthralled with watching deer. Quite often we would head out for a drive through Ridley Creek State Park at dusk to see the abundant deer and other wildlife that inhabited it. On most evenings we would see dozens of deer and rabbits; occasionally we would get lucky and spy a red fox hunting grasshoppers in the high grass. I loved these drives and I became quite adept at spying wildlife because of them.

As I grew older my fishing pursuits became more fine-tuned…I still loved playing around the pond but I had graduated to chasing trout in one of the local streams. I caught my first trout at age 13 and by the time I turned 16 I was an expert! I knew that creek’s pools and undercut banks like the back of my hand. Little Darby Creek was a stocked creek that would receive heavy loads of fish in the spring and it would be heavily pressured through April and May. I would continue to catch trout through the middle of the hottest summer days when most adult fisherman would tell me that I was foolish because “all the trout had already been caught “. I never did let on to them the success I had, I would just smile and tell them they were probably right but I’m going to give it a try anyway. My Grandparents fully supported my hobby (obsession) but they definitely installed some very important values that have stayed with me. When I caught my first trout and brought it home, I was required to clean the fish myself and my Grammy immediately cooked it for me. My Grandparents wanted me to fully understand that I was responsible for the life that I took and that was fine as long as I respected the animal by using it for food and not wasting its precious flesh. This lesson and value has stayed with me throughout my life and I will not take any animal that I don't intend on eating (or provide food for another).

I was also fortunate to have my other Grandparents living in Sea Isle City at the New Jersey shore. My summer days there were spent getting up early, wolfing down some food and running back to Pier 88 where I would spend the day fishing and catching minnows to sell to the pier and my own use. Sometimes I would run home for lunch but more often than not I was happy just to spend the entire day there fishing. I never really caught any big fish, mostly little snapper blues and occasionally a nice flounder. I was at home on the pier and loved the adventure that each day there brought and I would reluctantly be rounded up for dinner. Usually after dinner I would head back to the pier again so I could fish for the little blues that would gather under the lights. I dreamed of a day that I would own a boat so I could explore the bay and ocean to catch more (and bigger) fish. Occasionally I would get an invitation to fish out of my neighbor’s boat with him and that was always a special joy. It’s funny to me now but when most teenage boys were busy chasing girls, I was busy chasing fish (sad but true).

By now you’re probably wondering why I’m talking about fishing so much if this is a blog about hunting, correct? Well this is when I started to learn about hunting through magazines such as Outdoor Life, Field & Stream, and Sports Afield. I would purchase these magazines to learn the latest and greatest on trout and saltwater fishing but they also would carry plenty of articles on hunting. After I read and reread all of the fishing articles I would reluctantly read the hunting stories. I never understood how someone could kill something as beautiful as a deer but I was still strangely fascinated by the stories. I knew that my Pop Pop (Grandfather) said that he went hunting but he never did return with anything. I think it was his way of hanging out with his best friend away from their wives but I can’t say for sure...I’m not so sure that they even brought their rifles, more likely it was golf clubs! Anyway, I never had anyone that could positively influence me towards hunting in my family. A couple of my parent’s friends hunted but my mother would never allow her oldest son to take part in such a “barbaric sport” and quite frankly, I don’t think I was ready for it anyway.

I never realized it at the time but fishing really is just a different extension of hunting. Some animal rights groups actually find fishing to be more offensive than hunting because it is something that can be done for pure sport vice obtaining food. I definitely do not take this point of view and I highly encourage parents to get their kids involved with fishing even if they themselves were not exposed to it growing up. It is a good clean outdoor pastime that does not have to be difficult to do, for less than 10 dollars a parent can equip their child with all the utensils they need to have a great time. Most sportsmen I know will go out of their way to help a parent select the equipment needed and even tell them where they can go catch a mess of bluegills. I have never met a child that didn’t squeal with delight when they caught their first fish (and second and third)! I truly believe that a child that learns to love the outdoors is far better off than one than one that loves video games.

Next week: Underway, shift colors!