2013 Deer Hunting Part 2

Thanksgiving Day.  It seemed kind of vulgar to go hunting on Thanksgiving, but it was kind of a slow day.  I had read half a book and watched a movie I had been wanting to see for a while.  My Dinner with Andre was referenced in the TV show Community and I felt a compulsion to watch it.  The movie really is just a conversation between two people in a New York Restaurant.  It was terrible.  The best part of it was about half way through when I got up to check my email.  I can't fathom how this movie gets the positive reviews on IMDB and Amazon.

While hunting was on my mind, I wasn't sure until I started to get ready that I was actually going to go.  It was cool but not cold and windier than I would have liked.  I was partially going hunting because I wanted to, but partially because I thought I should.  I bundled up and grabbed everything I thought I needed and headed out the door.  I kept shifting back and forth as to whether I should abandon my spot of the entire hunting season and sit in the ravine, or stay true to what I new was at least an OK location.  In the end, I chose to stay in the same stand I had been in the previous week, qualifying that I would sit in the ravine on Friday.  Well past the half-way point to Mike's, I realized I had not brought my hunting knives.  Oh well, I won't need them anyways.

Getting set up in the daylight was easy and in short order I was nestled in my treestand.  Slightly protected by the wind, I was quite comfortable.  My mind wandered around but wasn't fixated on anything except that this hunting season was feeling a little futile.  Still, I was enjoying the time in the woods.  Mike had emailed and said he was out but that his family holiday would be later in the weekend.

Not much was moving, not even the squirrels and I was looking forward to heading home as dark approached.  No doubt Thanksgiving turkey and stuffing will taste great.  Right around sundown I heard the unmistakable footsteps behind me and to the right (northwest) and snuck a look back to see a doe.  She jolted her head up towards me and stared - busted - but then she continued meandering on her intended path unconcerned.  She was headed on a trajectory towards a very good location for me.  As she continued closer, my brain said was asking, "Should I shoot?  It will make Thanksgiving dinner late?  There are no hunting knives!"

I didn't rush the shot but let her walk into the crosshairs.  -BOOM-
She ran downhill a short stretch in a manner that told me she was hit hard and just over the ridge.  I thought I could see her, but in the shadows of near dark it was hard to tell.  After a few minutes, I got out of the treestand and walked in her direction.  As I did, I saw a white butt bounding away on the opposite ridge.  *&^%$%^&**&^%

Nope, much like my antelope a few months earlier, that was another animal.  My doe had died within a very few short seconds.  I packed up my stuff and headed to my truck; now what?
I dug around in my glovebox and found a small bottle opener/corkscrew/pen knife.  Yes, I field dressed her with it.  It wasn't easy since it was also very dull.  Surprisingly, it was a very clean job since the shot was good and the small crappy knife made me work very deliberately.

Dragging her back to the truck was exhausting and sweaty work.  After the short stretch downhill, the straight stretch between the ravines was painful.  That final long steep hill toward Mike's house was a monumental effort.  I tried using my truck tow strap around her arms to make it easier, but it didn't work well.  It was beyond pitch black by the time I made it to the top of the hill and had her in the truck bed.

Indiana has a nice online check-in system which made that task very easy on Thanksgiving night.
To some, this might be "just a doe."  But, I've been in a whitetail drought the last couple years.  Even without that, I couldn't be happier.

It was quite dark, cold and late by the time she was hung in the pole barn.  Not all of Thanksgiving dinner was cold, but it would definitely be a Thanksgiving to remember.

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Belated note:  I had noticed a wound on the deer hind quarter.  While skinning her, I had ruled out my initial though of it as a previous grazing bullet wound from another hunter.  While cutting the meat off, the disc in the picture below fell out.  I am shooting Winchester XP3 slugs and the disc is part of the Winchester Area Multiplier Sabot.  It must have hit her at an oblique angle and slid just under the skin.  Probably a one in a million chance, but interesting all the same.

2013 Deer Hunting

For the last few years, deer season approaches with a mix of enthusiasm and anxiety.  There is enthusiasm since any hunting, even if it is deer hunting only a few miles away from home on "heavily hunted" private land is a great way to spend time.  The anxiety comes because part of the reason I like hunting away from home is the adventure I don't get in deer hunting.  I was looking forward to the 2013 year more than the last few.

Opening morning came, I was awake in plenty of time, but still paranoid that I'd miss the get-up time so I continually watched the clock.  A quick shower and packing the last few things in the truck and I was out the door to Mike's.
The morning was warm by mid-November status and breezy.  I carefully walked to my stand location and put up my climber.  I was slightly sweaty by the time I was nestled in so it was about a half an hour later when I went to put on my hat and gloves that I realized my gloves had fallen out somewhere.  As it got light, I peered around the woods floor as I was watching for deer and spotted a distinctive colored shape that was my gloves.  No worries, hand tucked in my coat worked well enough in the warm temperatures.  My gloves are of the cheap fleece type but I was very happy not to lose them since I haven't found others that are so versatile - warm but very breathable.

As things got lighter, fast-paced feet could be heard as I watched a red fox come into view and vanish behind me.  This was followed very shortly by a coyote.  Odd, most canines will go out of the way to kill other canines.  There is no love lost in the dog world.
Opening morning usually has significant shooting, with a peak between around 8:30 and 9:00.  While there was some shooting, there was probably less than usual which was atypical given the warm temperatures.  The rest of the morning passed slowly with nothing else to watch except a few squirrels and the rustling of the leaves in the persistent moderate wind.  My stand was a new spot for opening morning about 100 yards from where I usually sit.  For the last few years, I had consistently seen deer "on the ledge" and so had high hopes.  But, the deer decided not to cooperate.

Around noon, I got down from the tree for just enough time to grab my gloves and stretch my legs.  My sciatic nerve would be screaming as it is by evening.  Unfortunately, the rest of the day passed with very little to see.  That is a lot of time alone with my thoughts.  This is a far cry different from a few years ago when I specifically didn't shoot any of the 15 or so deer I saw just to see how many I could see on opening day.  It is almost like the reduction in deer sightings is becoming a trend?

Evening came with more wind and with heavy cloud cover, I was out of the tree near the end of legal shooting time.  Sunday was to come with a forecast of much rain and a threat of severe weather.

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Sunday did come with much rain.  As I woke up, the sound of wind and rain was prominent.  A quick check of the radar on my phone revealed a lot of rain with a couple hours more likely.  I couldn't sleep so got up anyway.
After reading magazines for a while I got up and checked the weather again.  It was still raining although lightly and the wind was considerable.  Morning hunting was basically over and there was a very rare High Risk of Severe Weather.  This area has moderate risk a few times a year, High Risk is rare enough to take seriously.  The evening hunt was in doubt as well:

Most of Sunday afternoon was ok weather, but the storm was approaching and there was considerable violent weather to the west.  I think the estimate was that Indiana and Illinois saw over 40 tornadoes.
The day away from hunting allowed me to catch up on my weekend chores including hanging my bear rug on the wall headed to the basement.  I shot this bear in 2011; my taxidermist doesn't get great points for being prompt but he is a good guy and does great work.

As evening approached, the rain came down in buckets with very high winds.  This was not a day to be in a tree stand or even in the woods surrounded by trees.

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I was out the door again very early Monday.  As I walked to my stand, I could hear coyotes yipping just to the west.  This was followed by a significant amount of coyote howling shortly after getting comfortable in my climber.  I love the sound of coyotes - it is magic if there ever was such a thing.
At first light I heard fast footsteps to the south as a coyote then came int view and stood on a log right next to my stand.  He was there for a short bit before walking directly underneath me.  I moved to watch him and he either heard or smelled me and took off running the way he came.  All I can say is that with all the coyote sightings, I really have to follow through on some predator hunting later this season!

A little later on in the morning, I heard Mike's neighbor shoot.  He almost always sits in the same area so I'm pretty sure it was him.  Hearing his 4-wheeler a few minutes later suggests he was successful in connecting.
I went home for lunch as the wind picked up again.  It was nearly as windy as Sunday.  I was surprised with the amount of shooting.  Usually, after opening weekend, things calm down very quickly but perhaps since Sunday was a bust for most of us there were more people in the field.
Monday night came and went with little of interest.  The wind wasn't helpful in that hearing anything with all the blowing was very difficult.

Tuesday started as a perfect but cold morning.  I love hunting early mornings and watching the world wake up.  It was very still (too still) and it seemed the kind of morning that couldn't be interrupted by gunshots.  True, there were a few, but none very close and very few of them.

After lunch at home again, I went out again on Tuesday afternoon.  Around 4:45 I heard leaves crunching that distinctively were not squirrels.  A few seconds later, a buck walked up and over the ledge, right in front of me.  This was what was supposed to happen on opening morning as he took the same path as many deer I have seen over the last few years.  I was kind of wedged in my treestand because of the cold, but managed to get my arms out and my gun up as the buck's head went behind a tree.  Rather than continuing on, he took a turn to the south and started to move quickly.  Shooting that direction wasn't terribly easy since I'm right-handed and was wearing tons of clothes due to the very cold temperatures.  I managed to get the gun back on him but majorly rushed the shot, cleanly shooting over his back.  With a single shot slug gun, there isn't much time for a second opportunity but almost got a second slug back in the gun before he trotted off to the south.  He wasn't running in panic mode, and while reloading, his body language wasn't really one of fear, more confusion about what might have just happened.  I guess that is how far I missed him.  It was a bit disappointing to see him walk out of my evening.
Last year, I overthought a shot to the point of losing the opportunity.  This year I rushed it and missed.  Hunting is a lot like life in general - there are a lot of lessons to learn, some of them many, many times.

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I was reinvigorated on Wednesday due to the close encounter with the buck the evening before.  However, there was no more deer seen on Wednesday.  All that time on the stand gives me lots of opportunity to rethink where I'm sitting and I'm convinced I'm in a decent spot.  I'm only about 100 yards away from my previous "usual" spot and consistently over the last eight years I've seen deer on the runs in and around where I'm sitting.  "Do not overthink this, every year is different."
I had contemplated moving, but wanted to give this stand some more time, especially after the deer on Tuesday so I stayed put for the evening.  Wednesday evening was one of those perfect evenings where just as it gets dark, everything stops.  No wind.  Even the squirrels seem like they are trying to be quiet (for a squirrel).  If it wouldn't have been for the combine to the southeast, it would have been one of those rare serene times I think everybody craves, but can only be found when completely alone.

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Thursday morning came with more rain.  It wasn't supposed to rain, but it was.  A quick check of the radar showed it likely wasn't going to last very long so I got ready - a bit slower than usual.  For the last several days, I've been watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia on TV.  I don't pay for TV, so seeing this on broadcast is pretty surprising, especially at 5 AM.  I guess the network people don't expect too many kids to be channel surfing at that hour on a school morning.  It is a funny show, if a bit irreverent.
It rained most of my drive to Mike's house but stopped around the time I got there.  I got ready and was in my slightly damp climber treestand well before light.  Luckily the temperature was pretty nice since the wetness would have made things difficult otherwise.  With the low clouds, it took forever to get light but as it got light three does could be seen walking near the south edge of the property.  I watched them, hoping they would head the few hundred yards toward me but they continued east.  I tried grunting at them with my grunt call, but as is usual (especially for does) they ignored it.  I'm always surprised that I can move in my stand and freak a deer out, but that silly grunt call has no effect - positive or negative.

More and heavier rain was predicted for tonight and I'm ready to not spend most of my day in the treestand.  I'm headed to work Friday, but would definitely take the treestand over that.  I decided to not hunt the afternoon and get a few things done.

Only four deer in 5 days.  It is easy to get discouraged, but I've been swimming in deer other years and I know I'm very fortunate to be able to hunt on Mike's land.
However, there is an activation energy to going out.  That energy is lowered if the weather is good and I'm able to hunt without being disturbed or in a new and exciting area.  Most importantly, that energy is lowered when I'm seeing animals.  The weather has been pretty reasonable, typical for November.  I've never had people walk around me while hunting at Mikes, and have only rarely heard anybody and then only Mike's neighbors hunting.  I've never had my tree stand messed with which is very nice.  But, without seeing more deer, it is getting a bit hard to go out every morning and night.
My license is still good for a while.  I know I have the option to go back out...if I have the energy...

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Friday Note:  On my way into work, I saw 2 does crossing the road.  About 5 miles further on, I cruelly saw a gorgeously symetrical 10-point which required a panic stop to not hit.  Yeah, the are still out there.

2013 Antelope Hunt Day 6

What can I say about the final few hundred miles home on what was actually a pretty short trip.  I've spent more time driving than hunting.  I guess I could say I've driven 2700 miles to fire one shot.

Woke up early and hit the road.  It was still very dark so it was only me and the night truck drivers again.  The lack of traffic through most of the day was pretty nice.

The good thing about the drive, especially the last day, is a chance to contemplate the events.  On the excitement level, I think this hunt is a close second to my first turkey hunt.  Watching the not-my-antelope run away after the shot is a mental image I'll not soon forget.  In retrospect, I am kind of curious what was going through Quinn's mind at the time.  In the end, it all worked as well as it could.
It is interesting that before leaving I  was having a hard time getting really excited about the hunt due to many extenuating circumstances, but ended up thoroughly enjoying the whole trip and was able to put almost all of the normal day-to-day issues out of mind.

I'll definitely be going on another antelope hunt in the future.  Being able to look over so many animals and then having the stalk and shot be a challenge was a different kind of experience - and very fun.  Since pronghorn antelope only reside natively in North America it is a particularly American experience, and even more specifically particularly Western.  It is also unique as the only member of its animal kingdom family.

Back at home, I had plenty of dry ice remaining in the cooler and all the meat remained solidly frozen for the 36 hour trip.  Soon, I'll be able to try my antelope meat for the first time.
For now, I'll probably have to scurry to unpack and get ready for work, both mentally and physically.

And, look forward to the next adventure.

2013 Antelope Hunt Days 4 & 5

Woke up to a frosty Wyoming morning.  The first hard freeze of the year in the area.  As with the day before, the bow hunters were headed out early for their last day of hunting.  Since Art had gotten his antelope, and was donating the meat he was headed home.

After breakfast, Quinn and I headed into Saratoga for a one-day fishing license and some worms.  Then we headed back to the ranch and down to the creek to fish.
The creek itself was very small, width ranged from 5 feet to around 20 feet.  Many areas were very shallow but there were some deeper pools as well.  It was a bit hard to believe that such a shallow creek can hold reasonable fish, but it can.  We fished along the bank for quite some time and saw many fish, and even got a few hits on the lures but were not able to close the deal.  Several times as we walked up to deeper pools we could see trout take off, obviously wary of us.

After fishing for several hours, it was getting hot and there was not very much of the typical Wyoming wind so we headed back to the lodge.  We ate lunch and generally relaxed as the bow elk hunters began to filter back in.  There were several more close encounters with elk, but no more were taken.  Their licenses were also good for the gun season so some of them were planning on coming back.

Later in the afternoon, Quinn and I went out to fish for a few more hours and were able to do a little better.  I'm sure on the right day, the fishing is pretty good.  Brook Trout sure are pretty fish.

When we got back to the lodge, everyone else had left leaving a very quiet evening before turning in for the night.  I was headed back in the morning while everyone else will be getting ready for the next group of hunters.
We had a relaxing dinner before calling it a day.

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I woke up the next morning and organized stuff to pack up and leave.  It was obviously a quieter morning than is typical in hunting camp with myself being the only guest (or is it client) there.
We chatted about the last few days and what was coming up on the ranch before a final excellent breakfast.  I was out the door at about 8:00 and followed my GPS trail back through the dirt roads and into Saratoga.  I headed south and by the time I got to Encampment, they were open.  A couple trucks were dropping off a whole slew of mule deer does.  It seemed like a lot of does to be shooting in an area hit hard by deer drop-off, but to be fair, I don't know very much about the situation.
I was able to get my processed antelope meat and was surprised at the amount of meat they were able to extract off of the animal.  One of the reasons I butcher my own is because I have seen unbelievably skimpy amounts come off of good sized deer but this place obviously does a great job.  The low shot which did not affect any major muscles also helped.
Once packed in my cooler with 15 pounds of dry ice, I headed north, then east toward home.
I once again crested the scenic route of Wyoming 130 before descending to the interstate where I remained for the rest of the day.

About the only thing of note during the drive was the very high water on one of the Platte rivers;  the floods in Colorado continue to march towards the Mississippi, but the destruction appeared to be limited to some agricultural fields.

Besides some heavy traffic between Lincoln and Omaha, Nebraska, the drive was easy.  Based on the flags displayed I guess there must have been some Nebraska sporting event and perhaps there was some pregame libations based on the asinine driving displayed in the area.

The combination of dark and tiredness prompted me to stop about an hour outside of Des Moines.  Once stopped, I thought I could have gone further, but it is definitely safer to call it a day.
Since Subway smelled so good at a previous gas stop, it also served as dinner.  I'm not sure if the smell is actually from the bread baking or if it is something they manufacture and spray, but it worked.

There was still a good chunk of dry ice so hopefully the meat stays frozen overnight.  If needed, I can always get ice for the remainder of the trip.

2013 Antelope Hunt Day 3

Woke up at my normal time which was very early by Wyoming time.  After trying to get back to sleep for a little while, I got up and was able to get a good enough hotspot internet connection to do a few things on-line.

The elk hunters in camp were leaving much earlier than Art and I, so I stayed out of the way until they were nearly gone.  We talked a bit about the guiding business and had a great breakfast before heading out.

Quin and I had a little over a half hour drive to Area 50.  Once on the ranch property, almost immediately a decent pronghorn was in front of us and paying very little attention to us.  Quin said he was, "about average" and I didn't want to shoot the first animal I saw, despite the nearly perfect conditions and close range.

We drove around for a few hours and saw many, many, many antelope.  I'm sure the number was in the hundreds and there were several decent bucks.  I was ready to go after some, but Quin wanted to look over a good number first (and he was right).

While most of the antelope were skittish and we saw a fair number hauling out of the area, a few were very content to have the truck nearby.

As the weather heated, the wind picked up a little, but still a very tolerable level by Wyoming standards.  We saw three bucks that were really decent compared to the lot we saw through the day.  We talked going back to the first really good one which had decent mass and a lot of curl, but a similar sized animal was seen on the hill not too far away.  We decided to try a stalk.  I was glad to get out of the truck, and predicted getting busted quickly but I wanted to see what we were in for in trying to get close to the speed goats.

As we stood by the back of the truck, the buck crested the hill again walked toward us a little; he appeared curious and wary of us, before he headed back over a second hill behind the hill where we first saw him.  Quin decided to drive up a little closer and we headed quietly out of the truck and up the hill.

Once near the top of the hill, we could clearly see the buck.  He was still wary, but curious enough that he walked toward us and then back again a few times.  The range was right at 160 yards which was well within my comfort zone, but he spent most of the time staring straight at us.  There was also a sagebrush that was high enough in the way to be concerned about at the crest of the hill.
After a few minutes which seemed like about an hour he ran back a few more yards which allowed us to go slightly higher on the hill to get above the brush.  Range was now right at 200 yards and I had a clear sight of him in the scope.  After quite a bit more time, he turned broadside and Quin asked me how I like the sight.
I took a few deep breaths and contemplated the shot.
Boom.  Rifle shots in the Wyoming wide open sound a lot different than in the close in deer woods.

At the shot, the antelope turned and sort of ran away.  I had seen a big puff of dust in front of the animal and was worried about a miss, but Quin said he looked hit, although possibly low.  We waited a few minutes before walking to where he was standing at the shot.  As we walked up, we saw an antelope near the far side of the bottom of the hill.  The animal kept running, stopping and looking over at us over and running.
The antelope kept going farther and farther away.
My heart sank as I was seeing an afternoon chasing a possibly very poorly hit animal, if he was hit at all but it was the right thing to do.  The shot had felt right, but the puff of dirt was worrisome.
After talking about it for a bit we started down, but I took a short walk to the left, closer to a small draw on the hill.  Quin looked down the draw and handed his binoculars to me, "What do you think of that."
Less than 100 yards down the hill lay my antelope on a big sagebrush.  The other antelope we had seen was just another antelope; Quin had thought it looked smaller than the one I shot.

We walked down to the animal and I was thrilled, even more than thrilled.  The shot had been low, but took out the bottom of the lungs, broke several ribs which caused a lot of damage and shredded the liver.  Chaulk one for Nosler Ballistic Tips.
Quin brought the truck around and we took some pictures before gutting it and caping it for a mount.  After the work was over, we headed to drop it off to be processed.  Normally I do my own butchering, but with the warm temperatures and long drive home this just made more sense.  I also left the cape, and would need to coordinate that with a local taxidermist used frequently by the lodge.

Back in camp we hung out at the lodge for a while and then went out to tour the area they hunt in Area 52.  As with Area 50, antelope were numerous and again there were some decent ones.  This allowed me to get a few more pictures of unpressured antelope.  Had I known there were this many opportunities for pictures, I probably would have taken the better camera.

Country ribs for dinner that night was excellent again as we shared a few stories.  The elk hunters in camp had one more day and they were itching to put more animals on the ground.

After further reflection while trying going to sleep, I was ecstatic about my first antelope hunt.  Even the short-lived low of seeing the second speed goat run away added something and is a spectacle I won't soon forget.

2013 Antelope Hunt Day 2

I woke up early, which was even earlier in the central time zone - and even earlier in the very nearby mountain time zone.  Luckily, the hotel had in-room coffee so that kept me going until the free hotel breakfast was ready.
The breakfast area was surprisingly busy.  There were several workers getting ready for construction-type jobs and a few travelers obviously ready to hit the road early.  I ate two excellent Golden Malted waffles saturated with syrup.  I really didn't need the second, but the first was very good.

I very slowly got ready since I wasn't in a hurry.  It is only about six hours to Wyoming Area 50 and the rendezvous time isn't until 4:00.  I don't do sitting around very well, so I waited as long as I could and headed west around sunrise.
Traffic was nearly non-existent and since I wasn't in a hurry, I slowed down a bit.  My mileage from the day before was noticeably lower due to the much higher speeds.  As I left, there was some light fog in the valleys, and a beautiful orange sunrise pushed me down the road.  The few places I could see the Platte River, I could already tell it was beginning to rise due to the downstream effect of the torrential rain in Colorado.

I crossed into Wyoming, ready to see Antelope.  Through eastern Nebraska, the elevation started to rise.  My Toyota Tacoma, already an anemic vehicle, had noticeably poorer performance at the higher elevation.
I got off the interstate near Laramie and continued west through the Medicine Bow National Forest.  There were very few other vehicles on the road and the scenery was Wyoming pretty.
I saw a heard of pronghorn's about 20 miles outside of Laramie.  Hopefully I'll see many more in the next few days.
I was glad there were no other vehicles because as the elevation continued to rise, the truck had trouble even keeping going in fourth gear.  I was that guy that I hate when traveling through mountains by motorcycle - except I pulled over for the only car that came up behind me.

I rarely stop for scenic overlooks, but with time to kill I stopped near the top.  It was pretty, if windy and quite cold.

Descending down the mountain, I was now in or near the area that my tag was good for.  And, once out of the tree-covered area, I did see a couple groups of antelope.

I got into Saratoga at about noon, local time.  Unsure I what to do, I drove around and saw a sign for a library.  While looking for it, I saw a community center and stopped in.  They had free wifi which I could take advantage of for a few hours.  As mentioned earlier, I don't do sitting around well, but I at times can be forced into it.  The community center had a large lobby area with many animal mounts.  I found it a bit odd that most were African, and there was only one pronghorn in the bunch.  I guess since the people here see them everyday, they don't hold the same interest.

After stealing the community center wifi for a while and reading some brochures about the area, I got moving again.  One of the brochures mentioned a Victorian era prison available for tours in Rawlins.  Hopefully I can make a mental note on that for some future road trip through Wyoming.

I parked down by the renezvous point and walked around most of Saratoga.  It appears a pretty nice town, largely catering to tourism of the rugged area.  The town was small enough that I was able to walk most of it in a short amount of time.  Around 3:00 I headed to the Hotel Wolf to meet with the outfitter.  Deb and Quin (not sure if that is spelled right) showed up and we talked a bit.  I had to explain the lack of a cohunter, but that didn't seem to be an overt issue.
There was only one other antelope hunter in camp, Art from Illinois.  He has hunted extensively and was after a better animal than he had taken previously.  Since he was hunting a different area from me, we would be guided one on one.

We caravanned to the lodge for the evening.  The drive was relatively short down mostly dirt roads.  The lodge itself was a very nice log house, outfitted with comfortable eating and sleeping areas.  Pretty nice digs for the next few days.

The rest of the evening was spent talking and eating a great chicken dinner.  Many pronghorn could be seen from the porch of the lodge including one nice buck.  Later in the evening a mule deer doe was meandering down by a creek below the lodge.

There was another group of six bowhunters in camp for elk.  One of them had tagged an elk earlier in the day and recovered it after most of the day - it was a very nice 6x6.

It was a late night by Eastern time zone standards and I was ready to begin going after Antelope.

2013 Antelope Hunt Day 1 (Drive Day)

This adventure actually starts years ago.  I have wanted to hunt out west and wanted to hunt Antelope for a long time.  About a year and a half ago, I decided to make it a reality and started investigating areas, outfitters, etc.  I had also convinced someone else to go with me.  We planned and based on some personal recommendations, I chose an outfitter in South Central Wyoming.  Jim is on the expensive side, but personal recommendations go a long way in a business with many charlatans.
We paid deposits, bought preference points and eventually drew tags for Wyoming Antelope Area 50.  On the day I found out we drew tags, my cohunter "likely" dropped out.  This was confirmed a few weeks ago; one tag donation to Wyoming.
I was in regardless, although this situation has made me resolve to plan these hunting trips on my own and not try to corral others into these things.  I'm a little embarrassed for how this turned out.

Only a couple weeks ago I was on a motorcycle vacation so I probably wasn't as anxious about the hunt as I would have been otherwise.  After getting back from the motorcycle trip, I went to the range one last time to ensure I was ready.  I've shot more at 200-300 yards in the last few months than I've done in the rest of my life combined.

Work buttoned up Monday, I went home and packed up.  My SO was visiting family, so we were to miss each other back at home by a few hours.  Luckily, the dogs would have someone home so no beagle jail was needed.

Anxious to start the trip, I was up early.  While letting the dogs out, I heard a large pack of coyotes to the east of the house howling and yipping.  It was magical and I'll take it as a good sign.  I was on the road before 4:00.  I took a new way to the interstate on some small roads and was headed west at speed in no time.  At this early hour, it was mostly myself and the tractor-trailers.

I hunt wild boar in South Carolina for several days each winter and on those trips, I've had countless gorgeous mornings near the Tennessee/Kentucky border.  This trip, the sun rose in the rear-view mirror in Illinois.  No contest, Tennessee/Kentucky is far superior.  I was happy to be making good enough time to see the sun rise well into Illinois.

Traffic on I-74 was very light, but as usual it got much heavier on I-80.  I was into Iowa by 10:00.  Traffic on I-80 was pretty hairy, especially around Iowa City.  Des Moines wasn't too bad given it was the capital, and then traffic thinned considerably for the remainder of Iowa and Nebraska.  Rain was pretty intense near Des Moines, but mostly sunny other than that.
Given that most of my long distance travel, spring through fall, is by motorcycle, it was hard not to feel a little envious of the people on touring bikes.  I was even jealous watching people in full rain gear through the inclimate weather.  If I could find a way to combine motorcycles and hunting, I'd probably never go back home.

I listened to two books on CD during the day.  The first was The Ride of Our Lives by Mike Leonard.  It was about a TV personality going with his aging parents on a motorhome road trip.  Some of the dialogue was centered around the personal family stories that are only amusing to the family, aside from that it was a good book to read.  Even touching at times.
I didn't mean to listen to the entire second book on day 1, but The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie just kept getting better and better.  It is a very honest (at times too honest) narrative by a young person growing up on an Reservation.
Both of these books have at their heart, taking risks and associated life pay-outs.  There is a lesson there, maybe I should listen.

I stopped in North Platte after about 14 hours on the road, this puts Area 50 in Wyoming well within reach.  I made reservations earlier at a gas stop in Nebraska by cell phone.  I've never used this tactic, but it saved me a few dollars at the Super 8.
One significant oddity was that gas at the station I get fuel from in North Platte was $3.50 for the combustible with 10% ethanol, and a whopping $4.23 without.  Like many people, I'm not sold on the benefits of ethanol in gasoline, but on a trip when it will all be burned shortly, this is a no brainer.  There must be Nebraskan political motivation behind this.
Dinner that night was Peking Duck at Hunan's which was very good.  I had been craving Chinese food for some time.  My fortune cookie fortune was truth and hopefully prophetic.

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 9

Detroit, Michigan to Home.  221.8 miles.

We were up early with Jason as he was heading out to work.  We left a few minutes behind him to head south.
Detroit rush hour traffic was beginning to build, but we were headed away from the city so it wasn't too bad.  The day was all interstate since there was really no reason to not to.  It isn't a very interesting ride, but we were close enough to home to be ready to go home.

I like having the last day on the road a short one for many reasons.  First, the last day is often done by hitting "the wall" where it feels like there is no forward momentum.  Early in the trip it is all about the ride.  On the last day, whether the trip is 4 days or 20 days, things change mentally once home becomes the destination.

We made it home in good time and with enough minutes to spare to get the dogs out of beagle-jail before they close for lunch.  They were happy to be home.  Since it is Labor Day weekend, we have a few days still to unpack and put things back in order, including mowing the bonkers long grass.

The map above shows the whole adventure, sans side trips and what a trip it has been (2855 total miles).  This was not a very long trip, either time or miles.  There weren't even any all-day 700 mile slogs.  But, this trip wasn't about the miles, it was about the states.
I've completed my goal of riding my motorcycle through all 49 states accessible by land.  We saw a bit of history at Gettysburg, a bit of beat-nick at Alice's Restaurant and a bit of morbidity at Lizzie Borden's house.  We saw wonderful scenery through awesome roads, met a few interesting people and enjoyed perfect mornings, pouring rain, the ocean, heat and humidity.

What a trip.

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 8

Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada to Detroit, Michigan.  281.5 miles.

We hit the road around 7 AM again.  I always find it surprisingly refreshing how no matter what mayhem a tourist area may be under in the evening, it is almost always peaceful and calm in the morning.  Even Las Vegas slows down in the morning, although seeing people (still) gambling and drinking scotch at 8:00 AM is a little unnerving the first time.

With little traffic on the road, we easily found the roads we were looking for and were on the QEW shortly.  We stayed on track until near Hamilton until we started to head south.  I can't blame Google for this one as they told me a good way to go.  I didn't see it on the antique GPS so I found a "better" way.  Several years ago I was going through the same area on four-wheels for a funeral and think I ended up on the same dreadful road through downtown Hamilton.  I'm really beginning to dislike this city.
The detour probably saved a mile or two, but added a lot of time.  After a bit of frustration, we were back on the provincial road headed toward Windsor - at least I think it is called a provincial road...

Once near Windsor, I decided to take the tunnel across to the US.  We used to go to Canada a lot when I was a kid since there is lots of family there and I always liked the tunnel; it has been years since I went through it.  The route to the tunnel is well marked.  But, when I got there, a transit worked yelled at me and walked over to me.  No motorcycles in the tunnel!  His exact words were, "It is just like a nuclear bomb."  I can only hope that was a joke?
Poking around online, I find references to air quality as a reason but car drivers are breathing the same air so that doesn't pass the smell test (pun intended).  I did find a quoted email from the private company that owns the tunnel and it said the insurance carriers would not allow it due to the unique environment.  This begs the question of why an LLC owns the tunnel?  Because they can.  Long term ownership is in limbo due to Detroit's recent bankruptcy filing.  Odd that the also-privately owned Ambassador Bridge allows motorcycles, but the private company jointly controlled by Windsor and Detroit does not.  Maybe Capitalism does work afterall.

The guy kicking us out of the tunnel was nice enough and we turned around and found our way to the bridge.  We breezed through customs and were on Interstate 75 in short order.  Since it was now the middle of the day, Detroit traffic was very light.

We got to Sarah and Jason't house around midday and hung out with the kids for a while.
Dinner that night was burgers and fixin's. Joel and Beth were also there with their kids.  Since it was a work night, the day ended fairly early.

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 7

Watertown, New York to Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada.  228.1 miles.

We had a slower morning since the radar was showing rain over far western New York.  The breakfast at the Comfort Inn was also much better than expected.  It had waffles and bacon and it doesn't get any better than that.

We were on the road a little before 8:00, headed south and west.  We stayed on the interstate for a bit before getting off on State 104.  State 104 took us on a trip to Mexico en route to Canada.  It probably seems odd to go almost 2500 miles out of the way to Mexico and it may have been.  But Mexico, New York was just off the interstate.

We continued winding our way through rural New York, very near Lake Ontario.  We got back on the interstate near Rochester before heading south to the toll road.
We came as close as we have on this trip to running out of fuel, but made it to one of the tollway service stations.

Google maps showed a fairly direct route to the Rainbow Bridge to Canada.  Unfortunately, the guys in Mountain View must have been laughing it up since it sent us on a direct route, but an odd one as we were on a road that didn't typically appear to be used for tourist traffic.  It was also through a heinous construction zone that a Goldwing didn't belong on so soon after a rain (read lots of mud and huge potholes).
With a bit of consultation with the antique GPS, we found our way to the bridge and were across the border quickly with little fuss.  The cars going the other way to the US where backed up for miles however.
Following our map, we found the Days Inn easily.  We were too early to check in, but got parked and just hung out in the lobby for less than an hour until our room was ready.  Being very early, we got an upgraded room with better view.  However, I may have rather had the original room overlooking the parking lot so I could see the bike to feed the paranoia.

We walked around a bit before eating at the "Family Restaurant."  It was nice to have something that wasn't Planet Hollywood or Hard Rock Cafe.
After lunch, we went to see the falls.  The Canadian side is better to see the overall falls.  It can be hard to believe from this vantage point that up to 75% of the flow of the Niagara River does not go over the falls, but is diverted to generate electricity.  A treaty between the US and Canada states that an "unbroken curtain of water" is to be maintained as the waterfall with more in the daylight during the height of summer tourist season.  A minimum flow rate is also set.

One of the great aspects of living in the US is the great relationship between the US and Canada.  After driving across the border, we then walked back to the US over the bridge.  The line of cars waiting to get to the US was still very long, but short compared to what might be encountered between countries with less friendly relations.

The view may be less majestic from the US side since it is not as easy to see all the separate falls, but it is much more dramatic than the Canadian side since it is so easy to get close to the thunderous pouring of the water over the edge.

On both sides of the border, I heard more foreign languages and accents than English, with the Candian side having more than the US.  This is likely due to the greater ease of foreign travel in Canada, including getting visas compared to the US.
While the US has a tendency to "over-tourist" locations like these, Niagara Falls stands as an example of the US getting it right.  The US side of the falls is more serene and park-like.  The Canadian side has more of a Circus-Circus feel to it with ample wax museums, haunted houses, loud speakers and the like.  This is Southern Canada however so I guess this is the equivalent of the Canadian Miami (importantly, hotels near the falls are a little cheaper in Canada).  Kakabeka Falls near Thunder Bay may not have the grandeur of Niagara, but is comparatively almost a hidden Canadian gem.

It was quite a walk back to the hotel from the US side, including another border crossing.  After yesterday's long day on the road, all the walking is kind of nice.

Dinner at night was at "Montana's" which was better than expected followed by Baskin Robbins.  It was surprising given the carnival atmosphere how many businesses were closing up relatively early while we were on the way back to the hotel after dinner.

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 6

Rockport, Maine to Watertown, New York.  467.3 miles.

Today's mileage was only 467, but it was a hard 467 due to lower speeds and an inconsiderate amount of small towns.

We woke to an early East Coast sunrise.  We had hoped to see the actual sunrise across the Atlantic (or bay), but the location of the sun was obscured by the trees.  We could probably have walked down to the water to see it, but decided to get ready and head out.

We left before the complimentary breakfast and went east.  Traffic was moderate until Augusta where we went through what probably passes as rush hour for the North Woods.  Once through Augusta, the traffic thinned considerably.

Riding through the inland Maine mountains was picturesque.

The mountains looked like postcards or advertisements for hiking the Appalachian Trail.

We crossed into New Hampshire where the speed limits dropped down to 50 MPH.  For the next few hours traffic was light.  However there were a handful of vehicles that limited the speed to a ridiculously low level.  I'm probably not at tolerant as I should be of slow drivers, but if someone can't keep their average speed above 30MPH on a rural road, park it.  At least get over when the few truck lanes show up to let the three miles of cars roll on past.

After a while in New Hampshire, a life goal was accomplished.  At 10:16, we crossed the Connecticut River and into Vermont.  By crossing the state line, I have ridden through all 49 states accessible by land.  This may seem trivial and I know of people who have done it faster or in more dramatic ways, but I have been working towards this for years with the vacation time I have and am very happy to have succeeded.

We stopped for pictures at the border to mark the occasion then continued on.

Vermont was very pretty with many, many small towns.  We wound our way north and west toward New York and Lake Champlain.  At stop at a restaurant near Lake Champlain for lunch another person overheard our discussing routes and gave advice on good roads and scenery to take around the Lake.  One of the great advantages to road trips are fun geography lessons.  I always knew that Lake Champlain was in New York, but I never realized how big it was or that it straddles the New York/Vermont border.

We crossed into New York within spitting distance of the Canadian border and began to ride south and west.  Much like Vermont, Northern New York had many small tows until around Malone where towns became more spread out and we were able to move a little faster.  The area was silly with dairy farms with lots of black and white cows.
As we continued on US11, we noticed an increase in bugs in the air; for a while there were huge clouds of them that could be seen a few tens of feet above the ground.  I'm not sure what kind of bugs they were but they were much harder and less moist than the "grease bugs" back home (corn borer larvae).

We got near Watertown and stopped to consult my phone on hotels in the area and found the location by the interstate with many hotels.  It was time to stop.
We stayed at the Comfort Inn and dinner was at Ruby Tuesday.

The only question, now that I've completed riding through the 49 states I can access by land, what will I do on vacation?

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 5

Kittery, Maine to Rockport, Maine.  166.4 miles.

 

We woke up to another very wet morning.  It wasn't raining very hard, but everything was wet.  Radar suggested the rain wasn't going to last too long, but that could have been predicted in West Virginia a few days prior as well.

We left a little later than the last few days at about 8:00.  It spit rain on an off for only about an hour and even then it wasn't that bad.  Temperatures were cool so the rain gear was not uncomfortable.

We stayed on 2-lane roads (US 1) until near Portland where we jumped on the interstate to avoid traffic near Portland and the surrounding area.  Once through the area, we were back on US 1 headed towards Rockport.

It was still early so as we got near Rockland, we headed south on State 17 to the Owls Head Transportation Museum.  I saw this on Google Maps before leaving and found the location very easily.  Having cut my teeth on British cars, I was thrilled to see the main exhibit was MGs and Microcars.  Most of the MGs were prewar but there was a smattering of TCs and TDs as well.  Overall the museum was very interesting with a lot of cars not seen very often.  The museum is at an airport so there were many planes as well, including replicas of WWI fighters.

The most interesting vehicle was a Scripps Booth.  A V-8 powered motorcycle with training wheels that could be put down for stability when speed was reduced.  It had lines and lines of copper running down the sides which I can only presume is for cooling.  There are so many conceptual design flaws with this vehicle that I can't imagine more than one was made (but they were).  Not surprisingly, they never reached real mass production.

Back on the road after the museum we continued north on US 1 through Rockland and past our hotel to Camden to eat lunch.  We then headed back south a few miles to Ledges on the Bay.  The hotel is misleading from the road, but it was everything that was advertised.  It is one of the few hotels right on the bay and is very scenic.  We were able to check in early and the woman who checked us in was very friendly, giving advice on where to park and good restaurants to eat at.

Once in the very large room, the view was wonderful.  I'm not sure the picture does it justice.

It is a bit of a hill down to the water, but once near the bay, there are stairs to go down to the rocky shoreline.  We walked along the shoreline where the view was also scenic.

While exploring, we found several old lobster bait bags, a lobster trap and lobsterman's coat.  If I was in the market for a career change, I would be all set.

The only thing I was able to catch however was one small crab.  Anytime I was near the ocean as a kid I loved playing in the tidal pools and finding all the creatures there so this was quite a fun trip to the past.

After our watery, rocky shoreline hike, we jumped on the bike again and headed down to Rockland to the breakwater.  It is just under a mile long jetty made of reclaimed granite puzzled together, but still with large gaps.  It was a nice (careful) walk and the view from the end was very nice.

From there we headed up to Camden and ate dinner at Graffam Brothers which was right on the harbor.  A whoopie pie again rounded out the day - since we are leaving Maine in the morning, this is the last opportunity for a genuine Maine pie.

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 4

Kingston, New York to Kittery, Maine.  358.6 miles.

We woke to a Berkshire morning that was cool to cold with a pretty fog covering the low lying areas.  That fog signaled cold in the valleys and hollers as we headed out on the bike for the ride east.

We took 2-lane roads to the Taconic Parkway.  The Parkway rolls along near the Hudson and as we went north, we were one of very few cars on the road.  It was magnificent.

While some people think I'm crazy for wanting to get up early on vacation, it is mornings like these that make early mornings mandatory.  This is the best time one the road, with no traffic, gorgeous lighting and cool dense morning air.

Far too quickly we were at the Toll Interstate headed east.  Traffic increased, but only marginally as we got nearer to larger cities and the morning became later.
We headed southeast into Rhode Island, leaving one fewer state to roll through on two wheels.  After Rhode Island, we crossed back into Massachusetts and to the Town or Fall River.  Fall River isn't the the most spectacular town in the East, but people there were exceptionally friendly.  While parked on the side of the road, several people strolling past and even one guy driving past gave a friendly hello which was kind of nice.

Fall River is where, on August 4, 1892, Abby and Andrew Borden were slain, likely with a hatchet.  This murder may have been committed by Andrew's daughter Lizzie Borden.  The murder was a sensational crime and covered internationally.  Lizzie was eventually acquitted of the crime and moved out of the house, selling it for paltry sum a few years later.  It was a private home for many years.  In one book I read about the Borden murders, the house was described as dilapidated, still having wall paper from when the Borden's lived there; the house is in a quaint if a bit older section of Fall River.

In 1996 the house was sold and turned into a Bed and Breakfast (Where everyone is treated like family - cute...), playing on the theme of the murders.  We decided not to stay there for the night since timing was wrong and I wasn't very interested in the themed activities, and the like.  The night before we were there, apparently the shenanigans went on until the wee hours of the morning.  Luckily, they also give tours of the house which last about an hour.
Carol was our tour guide and she gave a very fascinating telling of the events and tour of the areas of the house.  This may be a macabre tour, but the Lizzie Borden Story is part of the American Lexicon.  Possibly because enough time has passed along with the fact that she was acquitted but presumed guilty by many.  Seventeenth century misogyny also plays a roll in my opinion (if the prime suspect was named Lester, history would have written this differently).  It is so much a part of American history that there is a school yard rhyme we all may have known at one time:
Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks.
When she saw what she had done
She gave her father forty-one.

The owners have gone to great lengths to furnish the house with period articles including furniture and decoration.  Part of the charm of the tour was just the recreation of Victorian style.  Carol was obviously passionate about the subject and also plays the role of Lizzie in the annual recreations.
Below is an attempt to recreate the antique crime scene photos - or at least the locations.  It shows how the decor comes reasonably close to what the house looked like in 1892.

Andrew Borden.

Abby Borden

With the tour completed, we headed north.  After a short but delicious lunch at the Stone Forge Tavern we went around the city of Boston and into New Hampshire for a few miles, then into Maine.  One state left!
Just into Maine, we stopped in Kittery for the night.

After lounging at the hotel for a while, we headed out again and went to Badger Island, right in between New Hampshire and Maine.  We ate at a restaurant called Weathervane (Lobsters in the Rough) out on the pier overlooking the harbor/sound.  Since it was my first time in Maine, I had to have the Lobster for dinner.
After filling up myself, I filled the bike with fuel on the way back to the hotel and picked up an authentic Whoopie Pie to finish off the day.

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 3

Frederick, Maryland to Kingston, NY.  522.2 miles.

Woke up and after giving the bike a good once over we hit the road by 7:00.  In contrast to the last couple days, we were blinded by sun glare instead of torrential rain.  It was a good trade.

We headed east towards Baltimore, crossing into Delaware, making the first "new" state on two wheels this trip.  Delaware went by fast, and we entered Pennsylvania near Philadelphia.  Philadelphia was one of the few very large city skylines we saw despite being relatively close to many other large cities.

 Shortly after Pennsylvania, we crossed into New Jersey.  New Jersey sucks; I lived there for one summer and it was much like I remember it.  Poor signs and lots of traffic (although to be honest, the traffic was not very bad).  The signs for the New Jersey Turnpike weren't very well marked and we stayed on I-95 for longer than anticipated until getting onto the turnpike north of Trenton.  No worries, we made it and rode through New Jersey.

We avoided the New York area by taking I-287 which was actually fairly scenic.  From there, we took I-87 north to Kingston.  This was also quite scenic.  All told, the tolls for the day cost $17.15 which isn't terrible given the distance for the day.  I am glad I don't have to pay that kind of ransom to get around home however, and the traffic was at times a bit much.  On a few occasions, I-87 came to a near standstill for no reason.  Road etiquette is lacking around here which I'm sure contributes to the mayhem.

We got to Kingston around 1:00 and after checking in and dropping a few things off we headed east into Connecticut taking NY-199 then US-44, then north into Massachusetts by US-7.  The drive was very scenic and with the exception of one town having a festival, traffic was light to tolerable.  This appears to be a weekend hotspot for antiques and old money, seeing a Bentley, Ferrari's and several other high dollar cars.  On an absolutely perfect afternoon, there were innumerable motorcycles out and about.  

We reached Stockbridge, MA and easily found a parking spot.  From there, we walked down the street to Theresa's Cafe.  This is The Alice's Restaurant of Arlo Guthrie fame.  Someone named Alice who was a friend of Arlo's really did own it for about a year.  It really is just around the back about a half mile from the railroad tracks!

They were moderately busy when we got there so it took a bit of time, but when we left the place was nearly empty.  Since this is Alice's Restaurant, I guess this must be a Thanksgiving Dinner that just can't be beat.

Actually, it was more of a large snack to tide us over until dinner.

Once we ate we headed south and found the Church that Alice used to live at.  It is now the Guthrie Center which has a mission statement to bring individuals together for cultural, educational, and spiritual exchange.  I'm not entirely sure what that means, and there was something going on there so we didn't go in.

We headed back to the Roadway Inn for the night.  This was the hotel I was a little nervous about due to many bad reviews online.  The hotel isn't the newest, but it was clean  and comfortable.  The staff were very friendly and accommodating in letting us check in early and park the bike very near the room.  The room was a little pricey, but given the area it was a bargain.  

The view from the hotel is a gorgeous landscape of the Kingston and surrounding area.  Of the hotels stayed at so far, it was the most picturesque.

The restaurant next to the Roadway was very good if a little pricey.  Again, the staff were very cordial, even quickly cleaning a table so we could sit by the window overlooking the view.

Another great day on vacation, five new states on two wheels, and was able to get anything I wanted at Alice's Restaurant!

2013 NorthEast by Motorcycle Day 2

Jackson, Ohio to Frederick, Maryland.  443.9 miles.

 

The day started out grey, moist and humid.  After getting going with hotel waffles saturated in syrup, we hit the road near 7:00.  Today was a day of many state crossings; the days adventures would take us from Ohio into West Virginia to Maryland to West Virginia to Virginia to West Virginia to Maryland to Pennsylvania to Maryland.  Golly do we have some screwy shaped states.

State 32 in Ohio led to US 50, both of these are four lane divided with generous speed limits.  The sky spat rain on and off, at times at a moderate rate.
Things changed in West Virginia.  US 50 turns to a narrow and slightly bumpy road with trees right along the side of the road.  It is easy to see why West Virginia is the state with the most deer strikes.  At least the weather was cooperating on this leg of the trip.

The weather changed after a stop for gas in Clarksburg.  The skies opened up for a couple hours.  The torrential rain coupled with too-slow drivers made the travel a bit more of a challenge for a while.  At one point the rain had flooded the road to several inches of water.  Since the Goldwing does not float, I slowed considerably.  The jackwad truck driver behind me tried to pass, pushing a mountain of a wake of water - what an ass.  Jackwad ended up getting stuck behind an extremely slow logging truck a short time later; perhaps a bit of unintentional justice.

Once we got to Winchester, Virginia the rain let up until near Frederick Maryland.  We got to Frederick too early to check in to the hotel so we headed north to Gettysburg.  Gettysburg is only about 30 minutes from Frederick.  The museum at Gettysburg was pretty interesting, but I had a hard time getting interested in a lot of what was there.  What I did find truly fascinating was the artifacts picked up from the battlefield immediately after the battle.  Even more interesting were the artifacts from people's homes destroyed by bullets, cannon fire or shrapnel from the skirmish.  Clocks, dishes, beds, desks, etc. all on display show the ravages of war on civilians.  It is too easy to see these things as isolated.  In one showing, there were building rafters salvaged from a house showing the destruction of a cannon ball going through multiple pieces of timber, wreaking havoc on each one.
The museum wasn't terribly crowded, but I certainly would not want to go there on a busy holiday weekend or the like.
After the museum we went to the cemetery.  Perhaps not unexpectedly, there is a "normal" cemetery immediately next to the civil war cemetery - as long as there was a cemetery, may as well bury other people there must of been the reasoning.
There is a monument to the spot where Abraham Lincoln gave the Gettysburg address.

The number of graves, both marked and unmarked give a framework of the scale of what the three-day battle of Gettysburg must have been.

Once we had seen Gettysburg we headed back to Frederick.  The weather had improved significantly.  With a bit of looking, we found the Days Inn where we had reservations.  Dinner was at Longhorn before turning in for the night, hoping for more adventure, if a little dryer.