The freezing rain and sleet pelted the window next to my desk in the Tucker Ridge clubhouse. It was the morning of March 9, 2022 and with the temperature hovering around 30 degrees, damp and raw. The wood stove ticked away as I sat at my desk, ironically fleshing out the details for my May column in the journal. My phone’s screen lit up and buzzed across my desk. I picked it up and saw a message from a regular hunting client. Stephen and his Father Jim Rowan had just hunted with us for black bear six months ago and there was some talk about making their next trip to Tucker Ridge a three generation trip, including the grandkids this time – Stephen and Jim always came as a father and son hunt and it appeared that Stephen’s boys were ready to join. I opened the message and froze in disbelief. After recovering from my initial shock I reread the message three times – ‘John, our family wanted you to know that my father passed away Friday night, peacefully and at home.’ I was crushed.
It is quite common in the outfitting business to become great friends with clients over the years. Breaking bread together, sharing experiences and being involved in their hunting achievements all serve to strengthen bonds. Some clients even transcend that, becoming what feels a lot like family. Jim and I discovered many unique bonds over the years. We shared a brotherhood as US Army veterans, he a retired Colonel and I as an NCO with eight years in uniform. We both served in the field artillery and shared the same weapon systems background. While I was attending basic and advanced training at the Field Artillery Training Center at Ft Sill, Oklahoma, Stephen was attending high school there as his dad Jim was currently stationed at the home of the artillery. Jim and his wife Nora lived in Pennsylvania when he made his first trip to Tucker Ridge and fell in love with Maine; much the same as my wife Moira and I before we made the permanent move north to found Tucker Ridge Outdoors. Jim and I also shared all the same philosophies when it came to hunting, ethics and sportsmanship.
This month is the one year anniversary of Jim’s passing and I recently spoke with Stephen, mostly to reminisce about their adventures here. Here are a few of the most memorable Jim moments.
Sneaky Pete Strikes Again
During a deer hunt in November 2019, I put Jim in a tree stand in the area our legendary buck Sneaky Pete liked to hang out. At camp one evening, we were discussing activity amongst the hunters and someone asked Jim what he saw or heard. Jim mentioned he heard another hunter grunting at him from a nearby stand and ignored it. I explained to Jim that the other stand was 600 yards away to the north and there was no way he heard that fella blowing a grunt call! The table erupted with laughter as Jim raised his eyebrows and added, ‘Oh, and I passed on two bears. Too small for me but they’ll be great bears for one of you guys next year.’ Jaws dropped and hilarity ensued.
Bad Ammo
After the 20 hour drive to Tucker Ridge, Jim and Stephen arrived for a bear hunt and retrieved their rifles to verify zero on the range. Jim was up first with his 30-06. His first round tumbled in the dirt at the base of the target backstop. The second round produced the same result. Jim was flummoxed. He figured there was something off from travelling and decided to use his .270 rifle instead. When he uncased the .270 he noticed the box of rounds in the case were .30-06. A quick inspection of the ammunition next to the 30-06 rifle on the bench cleared things up. Jim had mixed the ammunition and rifles. Stephen told me later he looked over at me behind them and saw me laughing and shaking my head. I never said anything, not wanting to embarrass Jim. After loading the correct ammo, and putting two tight shots on the target, all Jim heard was me saying, ‘Well I’m glad it was the ammo and not the shooter.’ Stephen still cracks up about it to this day.
Stump Killer
It was getting late into the week during a fall bear hunt and some clients were getting antsy, not seeing many bears during a tough week of weather. Jim had a great bear coming into his site, but always just after dark. He was so close he could feel it. As last light was falling and minutes of shooting light to go, a rifle boomed across the ridge. A message came over the group chat – ‘Who shot?!’ After a few moments Jim replied it was him. The bear was on the ground, still and right behind the bait barrel. He was getting down. A few minutes later came another message over the chat – ‘I shot a stump.’ When I got him back to camp he told us that it sure looked like a bear and his eyes must have been playing tricks on him – he saw it move! He took a lot of ribbing that night, but in typical Jim style received it good-naturedly, laughing the whole time. At supper, one hunter looked over to Jim and deadpanned, ‘Say Jim, have you decided how you are going to mount it? Going for 2×4 shoulder mount or going all in on a 2×12 full mount?’
Nora expressed to me that Jim had been on many hunts in both Europe and the United States and that while all were good, she believed that his best were with his son at Tucker Ridge. Well Nora, I can say this with the utmost confidence – every single hunter that shared time in camp with Jim over the years will remember him fondly. His dedication was evident as he ran circles around the younger bucks, always the first one ready and out the door and the last one back to camp. Jim brought out the best in other clients and was a true inspiration for younger hunters to emulate. While I may never put him in a tree stand again, Colonel Jim will live forever at Tucker Ridge as his exploits are retold around the table by not only me, but by the many hunters’ lives he touched.