Insect Control on Stand

We are coming down the homestretch. The long wait between the close of muzzleloading season on deer and the opening of black bear over bait is nearly here. The end of this month will see hunters once again testing their mettle, trying their hardest to be invisible and scent-free while perched in their stands. And that is no easy task.

In my neck of the woods, the normal bug season kicked into overdrive this year. The blackflies showed up in force, followed by a mosquito invasion that laid bare the shelves of every retail establishment equipped with an outdoors section of Thermacell’s and bug dope. The summer visitors opening their camps descended into town like a horde of locusts, decimating insect control inventory and leaving me scratching my head – literally. I don’t usually dope up to an excessive degree but this season has been a doozy. At one point I just decided to let the bugs eat. No amount of bug dope seemed to get the job done.

We’ve had a cooler, wetter spring and early summer this year. A good stretch of sunshine and warming temperatures would do us a lot of good in knocking down the ambitions of the Maine air force – black flies, mosquitos, deer flies and horse flies. Well, maybe not the deer flies. Those rascals will take chunks out of you all summer long. Without some warmer, sunny days to discourage the insects, I fear we may be in for a buggy bear season. If that turns out to be the case, some special attention to gear and bait site selection will go a long way before the first hunter takes the stand.

The weather during bear season is unpredictable. We’ve had years when temperatures soared during the second two weeks and plummeted during the first two. I remember a season not long ago when the morning mercury read in the 40’s. I had clients reaching for gear that was usually reserved for deer camp. This year however, I believe head nets and gloves will be high priority on the gear list. There is no greater spoiler to a bear over bait hunt than the lifting of a hand to swat at a mosquito buzzing in your ear. This year, even if you typically avoid full faced head nets, I think you might want to keep one handy.

Hunters and guides both have varying opinions on the use of Thermacell devices while on stand. I’m not wading into that debate, however, if you use one and are comfortable with it at your bear site you may want to check out the new Earth Scent refill pack. I plan on putting them through the paces at a new test bait site to see how they work. I’m also considering doping up a rag at the stand location every time I bait the site to get the bears comfortable with the smell – for some hunters, head nets and gloves just don’t provide enough relief to keep them still on stand.

Lastly, I think new stand placements will be key. As hunters, we always try to use the wind to our favor in keeping human scent at a minimum. Perhaps going a step further and determining how the wind moves through the trees at the site can help tweak our stand placements and maximize the use of the wind in order to minimize insect interference with our hunt. One thing is certain, we’ll need every advantage we can gain when hunting the black ghosts of the Maine woods in early fall.

The Greatest Gift

I don’t know about you, but for me, December is a time filled with reflection. Life slows down perceptibly for me as the big game seasons come to a close and open water fishing opportunities dwindle to a trickle. Soon, coyote hunting and ice fishing will be the dominant outdoor pursuits. While I do look forward to these upcoming seasons, I cannot resist the reverie of the previous hunting and fishing seasons as I ponder by the wood stove and watch the snow fall.

I think about clients who became new friends during guided trips. I remember their greatest successes and my companion failures – the very highs and lows of working as a guide in the Maine outdoors. I recall their triumphant smiles during the post-hunt photo taking sessions and likewise, the look of defeat when the line snaps and the biggest smallmouth of their fishing career dives for the rock pile.

Warming by the fire in my favorite chair, well-worn and cracked leather a hint of its long life of service, my gaze will inevitably fall on the Christmas tree, adorned with classic white lights and a modest supply of traditional ornaments. It is at this very moment I realize what the greatest gift of all is – appreciation.

I recollect the opening week of deer camp and the surprise gift presented to me by returning clients as they arrived in camp – a brand new Marlin model 1895GBL. The .45-70 Government big loop, lever-action rifle is purpose built for professional hunting guides; it has also been on my wish list for quite a few years.

I was stunned when these sports created a ruse in the clubhouse to present the guide gun to me – I was also completely humbled. They explained how much they appreciated the hard work I put in for them year after year and wanted to express their gratitude. I was floored. To me, the very thought of their profound appreciation was the true gift – the guide gun was just the tangible manifestation of it.

This holiday season, I want everyone involved in our entire outdoors community to know how much I appreciate them. For the clients and sports that make it possible for me to make a living doing what I love – thank you. To the elected officials and grassroots activists who never tire in fighting for sportsman’s rights – thank you. The snowmobile and ATV club volunteers, who put in countless hours so we may enjoy the trails, all deserve our gratitude. Professionals who dedicate their life’s work to the outdoors and wildlife have my deepest respect and appreciation – wildlife biologists, forest rangers, game wardens, search and rescue personnel and fellow guides.

Without the generosity of landowners, our outdoors experiences would pale in comparison – I appreciate your gift of access. Tagging station employees, game processing facilities, taxidermists, camp cooks, hunter safety course instructors, outdoors publishers, editors, writers and readers – the list of people who contribute to our outdoor community is a long one and I couldn’t possibly name you all, but know I appreciate you. Lastly, to the spouses and families of outdoors professionals and working guides who keep the home fires burning during the long work days of peak seasons, we truly appreciate you and couldn’t have done it without you. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from Tucker Ridge!

Granddad’s Gun

I heard the shot from camp. When I heard the client’s .35 Remington boom down the ridge I smiled and waited for confirmation. The text message came in 30 seconds later; a bear was down and he was a big one. I told the excited hunter to take a breath, unload his gun and wait for us; we were on the way. He quickly replied, “Ok…I’m shaking.” After I found out the story behind his rifle, I completely understood why.

Tyler came to bear camp as an experienced and accomplished hunter, but this was his first bear hunt. His cousin Josh had hunted deer here for a few years and convinced Tyler to join him and try for a Maine black bear. Like many young hunters, Tyler grew up being mentored by Granddad in the art of hunting, learning to respect nature and the outdoors. As a youth, and later as a young man, Tyler and Granddad hunted together every day they possibly could; Granddad with his lever gun bought new in the 1960’s and the young hunter with his slug shotgun. The pair spent countless hours in the fields and rolling hills of Pennsylvania hunting whitetail deer.

During the early years of his hunting career, Tyler desperately wanted try out Granddad’s gun; but as his mentor reminded him, he just wasn’t ready for it yet. When he turned 13 and deer season came around, Tyler’s wish came true. Granddad took him aside and presented him the well-worn and much loved rifle, telling Tyler he had earned it. From that day forward he carried that old .35 Rem with iron sights as his primary deer rifle. He also added quite a few more whitetails to its legacy. Many seasons came and went with Tyler and Granddad pursuing deer together until eventually, poor health prevented Granddad from going afield. A week before firearm season on deer in November 2017, Tyler suffered a devastating blow, losing his cherished Granddad and closest hunting partner.

I got to Tyler’s stand and we moved about 30 yards down ridge to retrieve the bear. When I came upon the boar and got a close look, I knew this was a great bear; the biggest I’ve ever had a client shoot. I hesitated on making a weight judgment when asked and gave a cryptic answer, saying it was definitely a good bear. We got the bear out to a tote road and began to dress him when Tyler started relaying the story to me about Granddad and his gun. Not only was this his first bear, but it was the rifle’s first bear too. I nodded at him and said Granddad is sure smiling down on you now and that he would surely be proud of him at this moment. Tyler nodded in agreement as he gazed down at the bear, hand resting gently on the smooth, black fur and shielding his eyes from me. “Anytime I’m in the woods I think of him. It doesn’t matter if I’m bow hunting, bird hunting or anything. He’s always with me” he said.

I handed Tyler the pull rope on the scale at Smith’s General Store in Springfield after our tagging agent Sherry registered the big boar; and as onlookers watched, he hoisted his bear. I read the dial and announced “313 pounds”. His expression was priceless. Later, as we dropped the bear off at D & R Processing in Wytopitlock, we watched the digital scale read out at a whopping 326lbs – field dressed. We talked a lot about Granddad and his gun on the ride back to camp. When we reached the cabin and Tyler prepared to put the tried and true lever gun in the wall rack, he took a last look at it and said to me, “Every time I hold this gun, I think about my Pop.”

The Musket Myth

Once again it is high tide in the gun control debate. Over the past month and a half, it seems I can barely keep up with wave after wave of assaults on the rocky shores of freedom. Emboldened by tragedy, anti-gun forces at both state and federal levels have renewed attempts at banning semi-automatic modern sporting rifles and magazines capable of holding an arbitrary number of rounds. Along with their self-styled ‘assault weapons’ ban, the anti-gun activist crowd is bringing back a few tired myths in hopes of gaining support from gun control fence-sitters. The worst in my opinion is the musket myth.

The musket myth is one of the most disingenuous arguments used by anti-gun activists and sympathetic media alike. Proponents of the myth note the usual and ordinary firearms of colonial life were muskets and flintlock pistols – both mostly designed as single shot and equally time-consuming to reload. In this statement, the anti-gun activists are correct. But it is also the only correct statement or assumption they make about the second amendment.

The core principle behind the musket myth is that our country’s founding fathers never envisioned a modern sporting rifle, along with its semi-automatic capabilities, while framing the second amendment to the United States Constitution. We are told farmers, merchants and tradesmen kept a musket in the home as part of colonial life, namely to hunt with – and for nothing more. We are asked to believe that the framers never would have been on board with the idea of ordinary citizens having access to, and owning ‘military style assault weapons.’

Actually, nothing could be farther from the truth; let’s blow some big holes in the great musket myth.

If anti-gun activists are stipulating that the second amendment is valid for the popular, ordinary firearm of the colonial era, the musket, then they are also stipulating that ownership of the popular, ordinary firearm of our current era, the modern sporting rifle, is just as valid and equally protected under the second amendment. This same theory applies to the first amendment – quill pens and the printing press have been long antiquated by technology.

The argument that only the military should have access to semi-automatic rifles also falls flat. While muskets were the primary firearm of the colonist and citizen-soldier, they were also the issued service weapon of the British military. By definition, that makes a musket a military firearm. And all three classifications of people during the Revolutionary War era – civilian, American citizen-soldier and British troop, were possessed of the same gun, the musket.

You really don’t need to get in the weeds with scholarly dissertations about the intent of the second amendment to understand what it was written for. While numerous legal arguments and case law decisions over the many years since its adoption have certainly muddied the waters, its purpose is crystal clear when viewed through the lens of history. American colonists revolted against an over-bearing and heavy-handed government by force of arms – that is to say, equal arms. The founders knew, by firsthand experience, that without an armed citizenry, there could be no true liberty – quite aware that a government without fear of accountability has no mandate to see to its citizen’s wants and needs.

There is a very good chance we would be speaking with a British accent today if the redcoats were armed with AR-15’s and the colonists came to fight with shotguns and bolt-action hunting rifles. And while that may be an over-simplification of the matter, it is also the very simple reason we have the second amendment at all.

As for me, I’ll keep my semi-automatic musket, thank you very much. And to propagators of the musket myth, I say this – put that in your muzzle loader and smoke it.

[Photo captions – The Minuteman Statue in Lexington, Massachusetts]

John is a Registered Maine Guide, an NRA Certified Instructor and the owner of Tucker Ridge Outdoors in Webster Plantation, Maine. He also works as a freelance writer and is the author of two columns for bangordailynews.com -“Life on the Ridge” for the Outdoors section and “The Right Way” in the Opinion section. He can be reached at john@tuckerridge.me or on Facebook @writerjohnfloyd

The Best Hunting Gift You Can Buy

Hunters are usually easy people to shop for when it comes time to get them a gift. Over the years I have received many gifts, from knives and guns to fishing lures and shirts that don’t fit. The greatest gift I ever got though was a journal back in 1993.  I was a 13 year old kid with an intense interest in the outdoors.

I made $5/hr working at a Christmas tree farm, so I wasn’t exactly rolling in money. There were other things I could not afford that I thought were more important. However, I now had this journal, so I decided to use it.

From that point until now, I’ve journaled every hunt I have been on where I’ve seen the animal I was hunting.

I used to have a mind like a trap that clung tightly to memories. As a horticulture student in college I had to know the Latin and common names of every plant that grew in the northeast. Somehow I actually did that. Then I had kids. Now I am grateful if I remember to shave.

There is something to writing these priceless memories down that stores them deep in your mind somewhere. Then 20 years later you read it and you remember every detail of that particular hunt. What a gift!

Everyone’s journaling format will be different. I normally just record details like wind, temperature, and then fill out the rest of it with the details of the hunt.

Here’s an unedited one I just dug up today, of a hunt that ended up being the reason I became a hunting guide:

5/23/99- Derek Stevenson and I made the trip to northern Ontario to hunt bears for our first out of state bear hunt. We spent one night in a hotel in Ottawa then checked in on Sunday. There were 13 hunters in camp. We fished that night and I caught a 24” walleye in the lake. Every morning we fished and mostly caught largemouths. Derek caught one nice pike as well.

We first hunted on Monday night, I bow hunted and brought my gun as a back up. My stand was a 13 yard shot, with brush on every side so thick that I couldn’t see anywhere past the 13 yards to the bait. I could barely even see the bottom of my tree. My bait had been hit every day for weeks, so I was confident. However, I sat that first night for 5 1/2 hours and didn’t see anything but red squirrels. I sat till 9:45 PM, and it was too dark to shoot at that point. Derek shot at one at 6:20 and hit it, but just nicked it and did not recover it. Two other guys in camp got bears that night.

Tuesday, I got in my stand at 3:30 pm. All was quiet and slow until about 7:55. I was thinking that this stand stunk, and the bears only came at night, when I turned my head to the right.

A black movement, only 10-15’ behind my tree caught my eye. I knew it was a bear coming in, but I lost sight of it for a minute. So I pulled up my Winchester 94 30-30 and aimed toward the bait, and the bruin walked right out into the open standing broadside. I was shaking like a little kid, but calmed myself down and took the 13 yard shot. It seemed like slow-motion watching the hammer go forward. The shot sounded, and the bear lunged its head forward and knocked the bait bucket over. He 360’d and ran off diagonally to my right. He growled about 10 times, each quieter than the last. So I thought that was him running further away. I waited five minutes, gathered my wits, and climbed down to check the bait area for blood. I thought he ran far so it wouldn’t  matter. I barely looked, then decided it would be best to wait for my guide. I walked out, shaking with excitement the whole time. Wolves were howling in the distance.

I waited on the road, and at 8:25 the guide came by with two of the other hunters that had already gotten bears. We went to the spot and I showed them what happened. So we spread out a bit and looked for a blood trail. I found it first, and we followed good blood for about 10 yards, then Terry looked up and saw it laying there dead. It had only run about 20 yards, and my shot hit both lungs and the heart. It was a nice male, at 225 pounds. I was beyond excited and filled with respect for that animal, words can’t describe the intensity of a bear hunt.”

Whatever the case may be, and whether you’re just gearing up for your first hunt, or you have hunted for a half century, start journaling. I have hundreds of pages of memories like the one above now. It’s a gift to yourself and eventually to your loved ones.

4 keys to suburban deer hunting success

I’m from a small town in southeast Pennsylvania, about an hour north of the city of brotherly love, and a 90 minute drive west of the city that never sleeps. People love living in this area because it’s a blend.

It’s a blend of the rural countryside, dotted with Revolution-era farmsteads amidst rolling hills and it’s a blend of small towns connected to big ones via major interstates and rail lines. Once dominated by farmland, the area has been heavily developed with homes, commercial zones and business parks.

The story is much the same in many areas of the country.

Traditionally, hunters would pack their gear once the season arrived and head up to the big woods and farmlands that still dominate much of the state. You’d leave the cities and suburbs and stay in a hotel or hunting camp and that is when the hunt began.

I never had that experience.

I started hunting as a youngster, and the hook was set deep for me. As I matured as a hunter and began experiencing consistent success, I realized I had something a lot of people didn’t have. I had access. I have upwards of 10 different spots where I can come and go as I please. Year after year I’d scout these properties, and depending on where the best bucks were located, that was where I went – pretty simple.

People would see the deer my family and friends would tag and say something like, “Yeah well, I could do that too if I had those spots…” They chalked it up to something unattainable. If the reason I was experiencing success was a particular scent tactic, brand of bow or calling sequence, any hunter could pick up the item or method and start planning a semi-sneak or semi-upright on their next shoulder mount. But it was access. So let me share my methods to obtain access in suburbia.

Know the facts

First, know the basic facts and be able to articulate them. Here are some I start off with: When settlers first arrived in this country, there were 10-12 deer per forested square mile in my region. After we killed off the natural predators and upset the eco-system, many areas around me now have 40-60 deer per forested square mile. That’s 5 times as many mouths at the table as designed.

One deer eats on average 5-7lbs of food per day. In a mixed diet of leafy browse, acorns, beech nuts and clover, that equates to three well-packed shopping bags. Try it for yourself. That is the amount one deer consumes in one day. Do the math and you can see how much of an environmental impact that has. More people than ever are green-minded and well explained facts can be the tipping point to getting your best spot.

Talk safety

Estimates are all over the place as far as deer/vehicle collisions. State Farm reported recently that 1,230,000 deer/vehicle collisions happened in just one year in America. How much did that cost to repair? Roughly $4,000,000,000, that’s how much. I’ll say it again, four billion dollars! I accounted for one of those repairs last month, and my claim was $3000.

Sign and give the landowner a “landowner release form.” Though unnecessary in some states, this releases the landowner of any liability if you or anyone else should get hurt while hunting. You can perform a Google search for a simple form and print one out for the landowner.

Give them something

Providing references goes a long way. A reference list can especially help when you are a stranger to the landowner.

Offer to provide services. This is a big one. I’d be a rich man if I was getting paid money for all the snow I’ve plowed, hay bales I’ve stacked, fall clean-ups I performed, trees I’ve cut down and the lawns I’ve mowed in exchange for hunting permission. But I was paid – with permission. If you’re not willing to work for it, you probably won’t gain access.

If looks could kill

My last suggestion should go without saying, but apparently it doesn’t, so I feel the need to mention it. Clean your act up a bit.

Every year I get my doe tags at the county court house. Me and hundreds of other hunters, who also happen to prefer the over the counter experience to attaching stamps to an envelope, gather and wait in line for the county treasurer’s office to open.

Most in line are great people, a few are not. Hearing some of the language and stories told makes me cringe. If one of these guys showed up at my door asking to bring a bow or gun on my property, I’d call the police.

When all is said and done, work hard for your access and you will open new doors to some of the most amazing and productive hunting to be had in suburbia.

Is it time to change the way we talk about hunting?

There seems to be an ever widening chasm between hunters, trappers and fishermen to some degree, and the non-sportsman populace of the American public. Is this deepening rift caused by simple ignorance of wildlife management, hyper sensitivity or is it something more sinister?

I remember the early days of anti-hunting and trapping sentiment belonging to a few small groups that most regular Americans thought of as fringe activists at best. The group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) comes to mind as the most well-known early on. When PETA started throwing buckets of red paint on unsuspecting people for wearing fur, they set a new standard in civility – a new low standard. PETA also became a household name.

Brigades of rabid, self-described animal rights activists soon formed over the course of the following years. Today, in the social media age, hysteria reigns in place of thoughtful debate. Emotion and “likes” are valued over reason and logic. The internet is littered with various groups and pages disseminating falsehoods and in some cases outright lies, in a mission to obfuscate the truth about wildlife management and hunting to endear support for the demise of it all.

So how did we get here? Once, hunting was considered an honored tradition by America as a whole. Even Norman Rockwell, a giant in Americana imagery, captured themes that brought the traditions and values of hunting to life for those that had not experienced it. Hunting and trapping were staples of American lifestyle. While people living in urban enclaves didn’t participate to the same degree as their rural countrymen, what did not exist was a divisive mentality that is so prevalent today. Hunters hunted and non-hunters didn’t. This was a very basic American principle in action: to each their own.

With the rise of anti-hunting sentiment among the minority, the majority acted to find compromise. We listened to concerns about the display of dead deer tied to the hood of a truck. We cautioned to not retell the story of our hunt when some coworkers who might be offended may overhear it. We tried to be aware of non-hunter sensitivities and started changing the way we talked about hunting and specifically, the killing of animals.

I believe that may have been a big mistake.

While I do agree that being sensitive around non-hunters is good practice, I think we have swung the pendulum so far in the opposite direction that even the mention of the word ‘hunting’ is now considered offensive to some. In our quest to rebrand our hunting vocabulary, we have given the anti-hunting crowd more ammunition to sway mainstream opinion against us. Of course, some of the terminology we use has always been questionable in my estimation.

Why are we ‘sportsmen’? This term to describe hunters, trappers and fisherman may be one of the biggest handicaps we have bestowed on ourselves. Is it because the term makes the killing of a deer or hooking of a fish sound less threatening? I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that anti-hunting activists love to turn this label around on us.

Activists use the phrase ‘killing for sport’ as much as some hunters use the term ‘harvest.’ We’ll get to that one next. How do we justify the claim that we hunt to provide food for our families and tradition, not for bloodlust, when we self-describe what we do as ‘sport’? Isn’t there a better alternative?

When was the last time you planted a deer seed in May, to then harvest a grown deer in November? I never have. So why do we continue to use the term ‘harvest’ in place of what we actually do? We kill and the very least we can do to respect the animal whose life we have taken is to own responsibility of what that means. Killing an animal is serious business and we should treat it that way. Likening it to picking tomatoes is wrong. We started ‘harvesting’ animals in an attempt to be sensitive about the word ‘killing’. It did not work.

Anti-hunting activists sneer when they hear it and trust me on this – they aren’t too sensitive about telling you how they feel about it. Furthermore, using the term ‘harvest’ can be made to sound like we are flippant about the taking of an animal. Activists looking to gain support from the public for their agendas certainly paint us that way.

‘Resource management’ is a term that has gained popularity most notably in state wildlife and fishery agencies. Opponents of hunting, fishing and trapping scoff at animals being labeled as resources and further reject the need for any kind of management. Their philosophy is to simply let nature take its course without human interference, regardless of serious issues like Chronic Wasting Disease in deer, predator to prey imbalances and human/wildlife conflicts. I do respect the need for managing wildlife, but ‘resource management’ sounds too corporate for my tastes. What is worse is what the anti-hunting activists hear in that term -“The business plan for killing innocent animals.” There must be a better way to convey this conservation mission.

By far, the term most damaging to us as hunters and fisherman is ‘trophy’. What does a trophy signify? It signifies the bearer has won some form of competitive game and is recognized as the victor. I don’t want my hunt to be categorized that way – as an insignificant game or competition.

Folks that aren’t involved in hunting mostly do not have a problem with those who identify their hunting with providing food for the family table. On the other hand, the non-hunting general public holds different views about the term ‘trophy hunting’.

That is not to say wanting to mount an eight pound trout or 14 point whitetail buck is wrong. I have quite a few mounts from memorable hunts – I just don’t refer to them as trophies. I see mounts as a token of respect for the animal. Every time I look at a mount I relive the challenge of that hunt; I am awed by the majesty of that animal and am grateful for their sacrifice. I do not believe I am better than that animal, maybe only better that day.

We are at a critical time in our hunting heritage. Our numbers are shrinking and the onslaught of referendum legislation attempting to deny our right to hunt, fish and trap shows no sign of slowing down. This is a nationwide effort we are up against. Our biggest challenge as hunters, trappers and fishermen is being able to effectively communicate our positions to the general public and deny our opposition the ability to use our own words against us. We need to stand tall, be proud of whom we are and not let our foes cast us in the light of their choosing. We must be proactive and nevermore reactive.

Do we harvest trophies as a sport to manage resources or do we hunt, trap and fish to take animals for food, teach our children important values and provide resources for our families? The future of our hunting, trapping and fishing heritage may depend on this very answer.

Full circle: A deer hunters journey

Hunting started the hard way for me. For my first deer hunt, Dad took me out to a friend’s house. I was 12, and I wanted to get a deer badly, but it didn’t happen that day. Tears quietly rolled down my face as the December sun set and I tried not to let my dad see. Yes, I wanted it that bad.  As a matter of fact, it didn’t happen at all that year, or even the next.

When I was 14, I got my first bow, and every day after soccer practice I couldn’t wait to stalk around the farm I hunted; making desperate attempts to get in bow range of a deer.

I missed my first deer that year. I could check my journals to see how many more I have missed in the years to follow – there were several. I have kept a journal of every deer hunt I’ve been on since 1992.  It was 1996 when I finally got one. In ’97 I got another. In ’99 I got my first deer with a bow.  I also got my first bear that year.  The hook was set deeply.

In 2002, antler restrictions were instated in Pennsylvania; I now had to be more patient. I got my first big buck, a beautiful Keystone State eight-pointer. Each year I tried to learn from mistakes and get better. I’m a competitive guy, and better for me was measured in the size of the buck I got.  I was morphing into a trophy hunter. It took more than a decade, but I was consistently getting big bucks, finally.

The author with a Pennsylvania whitetail buck

I began to work as a hunting guide in Maine. I would sit behind a booth for the outfitter I worked for, selling hunts at sportsman’s shows over the winter. We were offering bear and deer hunts primarily, so I’d hang some of my Pennsylvania whitetail mounts on the display, just so we didn’t have to haul too much taxidermy from Maine to the hunting shows.

It was then I noticed a problem. I’d see young hunters looking at 135″ bucks and saying things like Oh that needed another year, coyote bait or I’d never shoot that.

I’m speculating here, but most of these hunters were just reiterating what they’d heard or had seen on every major hunting media outlet. They seemed to apply Texas or Illinois outfitter logic to Pennsylvania public land.

People were experiencing the growth curve by turning on outdoor channels on Saturday morning, not by spending hours in a tree stand. The result can be a snobby crop of ill-informed, inexperienced hunters who think what they pass up makes them a better hunter.

I’d hear people, who had never killed a buck before, brag about passing up a 115″ deer. My not so humble opinion is this: If you’re inexperienced or new to hunting in the northeast, and a 115″ buck doesn’t get your heart rate going – you’re watching too much television.

Don’t get me wrong, I learned a lot from other hunter’s experiences; but I learned more from my own. I started to see that it wasn’t all about inches. It was about the hunt itself. I realized that while I was putting pressure on myself to shoot a certain caliber of buck, I was missing the things that I so loved when I first got started.

But not anymore. I value the experience far more than the inches these days.  I still try to drag a good buck out every year, but I see the beauty in bucks that pure trophy hunters would pass up. It also gives me more time to help younger hunters get into the sport. I’ve had the pleasure to set up 6 or 7 kids over the last couple years and watch them get their first deer.

And I can tell you this; there is no high that can compare to that in the entire hunting world.

The Companion Caliber Diet

How many guns do I own? How many guns do I actually use? Could I stand to lose a few? I asked myself these questions a few years ago and was surprised by the answers I gave myself. At one time, I bought up every firearm in sight that was priced right; I traded where I could and even bartered services for guns. I just couldn’t own enough guns – especially used guns in great condition. That was a big weakness of mine, and admittedly still is. I’m a gun glutton.

Then the epiphany struck. I realized that I was spending more time cleaning and oiling a lot of guns that hadn’t seen daylight in years; some never clearing my gun cabinets’ doors since the gun found its way in there.  Some I had not put a single round through! Just so you understand; I’m not talking about fine Italian shotguns or top grade M1 Garands. I’m a meat and potatoes kind of gun guy – nothing too fancy in my safe and all the more reason to do some gun cabinet housekeeping.

I decided to put my collection on a diet, favoring quality over quantity, examining the role of each firearm, and most importantly for me, keeping guns I actually use.

To get started, I categorized my guns into roles – Big game, small game and predator hunting, home and self-defense and recreational target shooting. Once that was completed I had a good idea of where my collection was overweight. This exercise also brought to light something I never really thought about before – arrayed before me were too many calibers capable of doing the same job. As a result, the size of my ammunition cabinet was just as swollen as my gun cabinets were.

My solution was a concept called companion calibers. Slowly, I whittled away guns that didn’t share calibers, especially the ones that were chambered for pricey cartridges. For instance, I kept a couple of long guns (a bolt-action and a lever-action), a semi-auto pistol and single-action revolver, all chambered for the .22LR round. The .223 Remington, another great companion round, serves the needs of my predator hunting bolt gun and my AR-15. Similarly, my FN FAL clone, a semi-automatic battle rifle favored by NATO and known as “The Right Arm of the Free World” shares a chambering with one of my favorite deer rifles in .308 Winchester. To round out the main stay of my rifle collection, a few guns sharing the .30-06 Springfield chambering will do me fine; sorry .270 Winchester, you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

The same goes for the handguns and shotguns. I slimmed down to 12 and 20 gauge only, covering the needs of my most used pump-action, semi-automatic and over/under shotguns. With my handguns, I chose the calibers and models I thought best for their role and trimmed the rest. Now, my Glocks and 1911’s have the same dietary needs – 9mm and .45 ACP

Sure, I still keep a few standalone calibers hanging around. My 1963 Winchester Model 70 in .264 Winchester Magnum will never pass into another’s hands; no matter how desperate the pleas of my long-time hunting buddy, Harley. And the .30-30 Marlin has too many stories to tell to let it go.

But when it’s all said and done, my collection is healthier and far more active. I must admit though, I still consider sneaking an oddball caliber once in a while. And truth be told, what diet has never suffered a little cheating here and there?

Bump stocks are the new red herring of school safety failures

It didn’t take long for anti-gun politicians in Augusta to try and find a way to further exploit the survivors of the Stoneham Douglas High School shooting in Parkland, Florida. Tomorrow, the Legislative Council will consider whether or not to present a previously tabled bill banning bump stocks and two other anti-gun proposals to the full Maine Legislature this session. As former White House Chief of Staff and current Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel famously said, “You never want a serious crisis to go to waste…”

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