2021 Deer Hunt (Part 1?) - Getting Older Hurts

The deer season approached with the usual odd mix of anticipation, anxiousness and dread.  About two weeks before the season I walked Mike's property.  Deer sign was not good at all, several of the reliable runs were almost hard to see.  There were only a couple scrapes and I saw very few rubs.  But I'm happy with a doe, so I was still looking forward to venison in the freezer.

Just like the year previous, I had the day before the opener off and went out to put my stand up.  This did get me more excited since the weather was nice and after getting my stand set up, I did climb it to make sure it looked good.  Instead of my usual "2-tree" I went down into the area between the creeks.  Because of the steep hills, this area is harder to hunt.  But the deer runs did look better in this area.

The rest of the Friday before the season was spent watching Seinfeld reruns.  I enjoyed this, but was also saying that hunting is going to be a better thing to be doing with my time.

Opening morning came with me watching the clock until the older dog started barking, "It is time to eat!"  I watched TV with the dogs before getting ready and heading out.  Temperatures were right near freezing which isn't too bad, but forecast highs were only near 40 with considerable wind.  Being low in the valley will help with the wind.  I was on the road at 5:45.

Once at Mike's I headed down to my stand and easily got up in the tree; I was able to do so without breaking a sweat which was nice.  There was just a hint of icy snow on the treestand reminding me that winter really is coming.  Sitting in the darkness was really nice - it always is.  Between everything being wet and the creeks running, I wasn't going to be able to hear much.  Slowly it got lighter.  In the darkness I saw a small racoon run right by the creek.  I always say these things are running recon for the deer when I see them while commuting in the morning, so I assume they do the same in the woods.

Right at first light I noticed a few deer off to the east (I was facing south, so this was left).  It was dark enough and with enough distance and brush that it was hard to see well, but I distinctly saw a buck making a scrape.  I'm not sure I've ever seen this before.  He must have got bored with it and turned to destroy a tree with his antlers.  As it got lighter, I was able to make out at least two bucks chasing a doe.  Eventually the doe high-tailed it across the ravine to the west, taking the bucks with her.

There was a considerable amount of shooting through the morning, but most of it wasn't too close.  And I either saw the same deer several times, or lots of deer.  Either way, I was sufficiently entertained.  I did attempt to put the cross hairs on a few of them, but brush and distance were not cooperating.  I also had two does come right down the hill behind me to my left.  They were very close and I would have shot one, but they moved too quickly to be able to.

Finally I saw a buck headed toward me.  I'm not sure if he was one of the ones I saw previously or not, but I didn't wait too long to tell.  He was extreme quartering toward me when I put my crosshairs on his shoulder and let loose a handloaded Nosler.  He was dead before he hit the ground and didn't move at all.

I got out of my treestand and walked over.  He was a pretty nice 10-point.  Not a monster, but not a bad deer at all.  I almost feel guilty sometimes that a deer like this would have at one point in my life gotten me all jacked up.  I'm still quite happy, but not as excited as I once would have been.  

I drug him closer to the trail and packed out my stuff, returning with my knives to field dress him.

Then the work really started as I dragged him out.  It actually took longer to do this than the time I was in the treestand.  When I got to the bottom of the hill below my truck, I went up to drop my knives off.  Making my way back down, I saw another buck standing in the creek about 10 yards away from my deer.  He seemed happy with the condition of his competition.  And the one that got away appeared a little bigger.  So it goes.

I recently turned 50 and that last hill let me know this ... mercilessly.

When I was about 15 yards from the top, I felt a streak of lightning in my back as I heaved the deer.  That last 15 yards was absolutely brutal.  Then I stood there trying to figure out how to get him in my truck with my back in severe pain.  Thankfully Mike yelled if I needed help.  I think his help goes way beyond land-owner duties, but it was very kind of him.

Back at home SO helped me a bit with the deer after getting a few more pictures.  The neighbor's dog Sweet Tea came over too; she was interested, but less helpful.

Sunday was spent processing the deer.  I took my time both because my back was still on fire and because I wanted to get as much meat as possible.  I did recover my bullet which is probably the first time I've ever recovered a 30.06 bullet from a deer.  The bullet hit and went through most of the shoulder before lodging near the base of the brisket.  I suppose it is still a bit unexpected to recover the bullet, but that is a lot of animal to get through.  Recovered weight was 98grains (60%).

The ballistic tip is probably one of the more contentious bullets out there, but the bullet is not the same beast that was originally introduced in 1984.  Given the amount of damage to the deer, including heavy shoulder bone, this is stellar performance (albeit n=1).

By the following morning, my back was doing a bit better, but I wasn't so sure it would tolerate a treestand, let alone dragging another one out.  I may see about going after the squirrels Mike hates so much instead if timing for that works out.

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Belated Edit:

I ended up boiling out the skull since I still had a few days off.  I had a hard time getting the base of the skull as clean as I could have liked, but I know from experience that it will be fine once I let it dry completely.  I thought it turned out well, although I am not sure what, exactly, I am going to do with it.

Chrisapalooza Day 3 - Home

Mark's House to Home:  About 310 miles.

It seemed like I slept really well, but I woke up and felt absolutely exhausted.  I tried to get back to sleep, but could only fitfully rest until I gave up and got up.  Mark was already up so we solved a few of the world's problems before daylight called and told me it was time to go.

The morning air was cool enough that I debated wearing my sweatshirt underneath my motorcycle jacket.  But I knew the dry air was going to warm quickly with a bright sun and only a few clouds.  I was on the road by a few minutes after 8:00.  As expected, the construction was easy to get through with the non-existent Sunday morning traffic.  Even the construction in and around Charlotte was tolerable.  Early mornings on the road are simply the best.  I continued South, crossing into Indiana.  I'm not sure what was in the water, but even the trucks and the vehicles pulling campers were (mostly) hoofing it.

South for Fort Wayne I was glad to be off the interstate.  I took US-127 since US-27 had so much construction.  I wasn't expecting it to be much better.  But for all the construction in Indiana on Friday, Ohio had very little.  I'll take it!

I really pushed the fuel gauge on the bike, but chickened out near I-70 and got gas.  From there it was a quick jaunt home.  I got home in time to take a dog for a walk and armor up my psyche for another hateful week at work.

After bear hunting, I said that if I could squeeze in one more mini-adventure this summer, it would be a very good year.  Chrisapalooza definitely counts.  It was great to get to spend some time with Mark and see Chris.  I'm glad I can keep in touch with them.  Quite simply, it has been a very good year.  I still have a few days of vacation I have to use, but I doubt they will be used for travel.  With fall chores coming up and deer hunting several weeks away, I still have much to look forward to.

Chrisapalooza Day 2 - Alfas and Campari

I woke up some time at night to a terrible noise and thought, "What the hell are those noisy jack-wads next door doing now?" only to realize that it was just very heavy rain on the camper.  I suppose I have a tendency to always think the worst.

After a little bit of tossing and turning, I got up and as quietly as I could figured out how to make coffee.  Mark and Susan's trailer is really nice (nicer than some homes I've been in), but it only has a few outlets.  I was a bit worried about blowing a breaker somewhere.  Coffee was successfully made, allowing a quiet start to the morning.

Poking around online I saw several pictures posted on FaceBook by coworkers who had gotten together.  There was a brief FOMO, until I realized that I almost certainly would not have gone anyway.  And motorcycling to Michigan to hang out with Mark was much more worthwhile than (inevitably) talking shop.  I have to admit that I continue to find the old-guy work/friend/not relationships utterly vexing.

After the day got going we went down to the camping lot auction.  The campground was much bigger than I thought it was, and it was an interesting group of people there.  It was obvious there were groups of people who had camped there for quite some time.  There were also quite a few faces which showed years of hard living.

Eventually the auction got going and once it did it went pretty fast.  Susan's name was called fairly early and Mark was able to get their first choice for camping spots as well as a good nearby option for a boat dock.  Score!

It was cold and still quite wet, so we decided not to go back out on the boat.  It was a few minutes to tidy up the trailer and the boat before we headed back to the house.  On the way I had Mark stop by the actual dam.  For an earthen dam, it is really large.  I was surprised how calm the water looked below the dam as usually the water near power stations looks like a boiling teapot.  But the electric station runs in peak mode, meaning it may not have actually had much flow when I was there.

Once back at Mark and Susan's, Mark finished fixing the Acura from the previous day and then we went out on the bicycles for a bit.  I am still amazed at how nice the tracks-to-trail paths are for biking with almost no hills so that even the wind on the way back wasn't too bad.  It is nice that there are so few other people as well.

The day got later and it was time to head to Chrisapalooza.  When we got to Chris' shop, our old boss John was there.  Assuming he was just arriving, I just waved, but it turned out he was on his way out and I didn't get a chance to talk to him which was a major bummer.  I was a bit surprised he didn't stay for a few more minutes as well, but I suppose he may have had other things as well.

Most people were behind the shop.  There were a few people I knew and a few more that I recognized.  It was fun with a lot of car-oriented talk.  Chris' Alfa Romeo 4C was pretty incredible as was a Miata with a really well-done supercharger setup.

Happy 50th Chris.

As it started to get later in the day it became time to head back to Susan and Mark's and call it a day.

Chrisapalooza Day 1 - Neighbors Suck

I think I first met Chris in 1991.  We both worked at "the shop" that summer - doing much of the crap-boy work.  I suppose there may have been a bit of initial antagonism, who was going to get to do the better work.  But this was quickly overshadowed by a lot in common while also enjoying the best job of our lives - even if we didn't know it at the time.  Chris went back to school during the fall while I continued working as much as I could during college.  We worked together during the summers.  I was in awe of his ability to get to know people so quickly - how people gravitated toward his intellect and sense of humor.  Our shared tastes went beyond British cars, we had similar interests in movies, beer and music...  I vividly recall how we both decided to come in early one day to listen to the entirety of Pink Floyd's The Wall.  We restarted after the first play of the CD (or was it a cassette?) at a greatly increased volume.  When Caroline came in later that morning, she walked into the back of the shop, and walked out, shaking her head.

We have both also subsequently gravitated toward a similar interest in two-wheeled transportation.

We had - and have - a lot in common.  Yet it has been interesting trying to observe as a third party how our lives have diverged.  Chris: kids, small businesses.  Me:  curmudgeon and travel for any reason.  So when I saw Chris was throwing himself a 50th, I had to go.

I've known Mark for longer than Chris.  Susan invited me to stay at their place for Chrisapalooza - I hope the offer was genuine as I am headed there.  It takes effort to stay in touch with old friends, especially when separated by hundreds of miles.  FaceBook and the occasional text message can only do so much.

The past week has been a horror show at work.  When I constantly find myself saying, "I only have to do this for five more years," it tells me I may not be able to do this for five more years.  But a recent new hire asked me a few weeks ago what I would tell someone like him who was just starting out.  My response was to know that nothing is permanent.  So enjoy the good times and suffer through the bad (note to self).  But at least I was able to shut down with enough time to get the lawn mowed which was good.

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Home to Lowell, MI:  About 300 Miles

There was no reason to rush out the door, so with an exquisitely cool morning, I took the older dog on a walk around the block.  Once back at home, it was a quick exercise to pack up a few things and head out the door.  Temperatures were near perfect in the 60's with bright sunshine.  The sun made it really hard to see the GPS, even with the shade on.  It was a good thing I knew (mostly) where I was going.

About 15 minutes from home I hit a road-closed construction area with no posted detour.  This was a bad omen since there was on and off construction nearly the entire way up to Michigan.  It added time and quite a bit of frustration to the drive north.  And with it being Friday afternoon, traffic was not light either.

I still made the best of the drive.  My thoughts were my own which is a really good state of mind to live in.

I got to Mark and Susan's house after about six hours.  Mark was fixing the shifter on an Acura SUV and he had a few other projects going on as well.  We caught up for a few minutes.  But the campground where they spend most of their summer was having lot assignments the following morning, so Mark and I jumped in his jeep to go up there for the night.

We drove up to Hardy Dam Pond - which is actually more lake than pond.  The campground was quite empty, but the lot next to Mark's trailer was occupied by a small group playing music loudly.

We took Mark's pontoon boat out onto the lake.  Mark did some fishing, but I mostly heckled at him from my comfy seat since I didn't have a fishing license - although I did chuck a lure in for a few minutes.  Mark caught a few bluegill and one tiny perch.

As it got dark, we gave up on fishing and putzed around in the dark a bit before heading back in for the night.

The neighbors had really turned up the noise to a level that I would have found embarrassing.  It would have been one thing if everyone had been hootin' and hollerin' but these jack-wads were the only ones.  They were still going at it when Mark and I turned in for the night.  Thankfully I always travel with ear plugs.  The ear plugs only did so much...  It seemed almost personal to be right next to the noisiest neighbors in the campground.  

Oh well, it was still a good day.

Delta Bear Hunt Days 9/10/11 - Fantasy Camp Ends

The final day in bear camp starts with breakfast sandwiches.  Everyone has filled their bear tag so we all head out for a day of fishing.  I'm in the medium-sized boat with Ron, Justin and Late John, and Max is guiding.

We head out on the river and as we are motoring upriver I notice that the color of the trees is just starting to change.  Fall comes early to Manitoba, and it almost seems like the amount of color in the trees is about twice what it was only a week previous when I had gotten into camp.

I start fishing from the top of the boat - both because I like fishing up high and it gives everyone else in the boat just a bit more room.  I lose the 10 yards right by the boat, but I can cast forever up high and I can also see lots more of the fish strikes.

Fishing in the morning is a bit slow, but not terrible.  Our boat has only a few keepers through the morning.  I land about four fish, but one of them is a good-fighting 33 inch pike.  There are numerous other strikes, but many spit the hook.  Barbless Manitoba is both a blessing and a curse.  Justin also brings in one good-sized pike.

The weather is intermittently good with heavy rain squalls.  We mostly keep fishing through the rain.  The fish are already wet and with camp coming to an end, I don't want to miss anything.  Once the rain starts, I do drop off the roof of the boat since it can be a bit slippery and a fall from the top might be catastrophic.

Lunch comes with a stop to the same shelter as the previous day and more rain.  Instead of the fish and potatoes, lunch is fish tacos which were absolutely amazing.  Of course anything with guacamole has to be good.

Fishing in the afternoon gets much better.  Both Justin and I hook into a ton of really nice fish.  We don't bring in any monsters, but the action is almost non-stop.  John even abandons bottom bouncing to start cast for pike as well.

All good things must come to an end and Max calls final cast.  We bring in our lures and get ready to head back to camp just as another rain squall stirs things up.  The wind whips of the water, but in the covered boat we all stay (mostly) comfortable.  Once out of the rain squall we are treated to a stunning rainbow which puts a capstone on the entire bear hunting trip.

We have a final group dinner of ribs before I settle up with Vance.  I also book for a future hunt; I am not sure if it will be in 2022, but it will not be soon enough.  Hopefully.

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I have a very restless night before the alarm on my phone tells me it really is time to head south.  I had packed up most of my stuff the previous day, so it is a quick shower, load up my bear and head out.  There are a few light sprinkles, but traveling is easy and traffic is light on Canada's Labo(u)r day.

Crossing the border goes smoothly enough, although I do panic a bit when one of the US guards starts to tell me that bear paws are not allowed to be imported.  "I know they can't be brought in detached, but I can bring in the entire in-tact hide."  A quick call to agriculture says no issues there and USFW did not answer.  A minor incident, and thankfully she didn't insist on being wrong.

I do have a spell where I get pathologically tired.  Thankfully this doesn't last too long and I munch on my buffet of unhealthy food during this time.  A good book helps keep me alert.  I listened to Where the Water Goes by David Own.  I had downloaded this book a long time ago but it took a while to get to it.  I wish I hadn't waited so long since it is really good.  It paints an interesting picture of the history of water rights in the Western US - as well as a scary future.  The world is a complicated place.  The book also does a really good job of going into how this complication means every potential action (or inaction) has a unintended consequences on top of unintended consequences.

I have a deer run right in front of me not too long after crossing the border into the US.  It is a very impressive buck which does start me thinking about the upcoming deer season, even if a doe is the mostly likely animal I'll get a chance to take.  There is lots of construction with poorly marked detours through Minnesota.  These probably didn't add much time to the drive, but they can end up feeling really frustrating.

I get to Maria's house with enough time to take a walk with her and Liz and the dogs.  The park near their house is quite pretty, but with the mix of bikes/walkers/dogs is claustrophobically risky.  I'm surprised at how much agriculture there is within the city of Madison.  Dinner is some really good ramen.  It is a short but good visit.

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Maria and I catch up a bit before it is time for the final leg of my journey home.  I listen to a mix of Radio Lab, Hidden Brain and Planet Money podcasts which makes the time pass quickly.

The dogs are happy to see me once I get home.  Maybe SO is as well.  The rest of the day is hairied mix of unpacking and taking care of bear meat.  Everything is separated, cut, ground and in the freezer by the end of the day.  But there is still enough to catch up on that I'll have one more day before I need to go back to work.

Getting to Manitoba during Delta/COVID was an uncomfortable exercise of paperwork, tests and stress.  In hindsight, it doesn't seem so bad and I'm amazed how everything worked out really well.

I'm very appreciative of Mark for inviting me along.  I know I am so fortunate to be able to head north into Canada and go on these kinds of adventures.  And I am really glad to have friends, both old and new who keep life interesting. 

The world is changing faster than ever before, and it gets easier every year you’re alive to be just a bit more of a pessimist, turning the brightness dial of your perspective down another notch. It takes effort, but I believe it’s worth it, when we can, to squint into a visual field of rain clouds loaded with infinite ways we could be disappointed, unimpressed, and dissatisfied with every little thing in our lives, and instead focus on a sense of awe and amazement. - Brendan Leonard

Delta Bear Hunt Day 8 - What the Eagle Sees

I once again slept in far later than I normally do; I was wondering how long it will take to get back on my normal schedule.  But I have several days (and over a thousand miles) until I have to start thinking about that.

After an egg bake breakfast, Derrick took Ron and I in one boat while Max took Justin, John and Mike in a separate boat.  We headed above the rapids and started by jigging which was not working very well.  So for most of the day, our boat set up with Ron bottom bouncing and me casting for pike (or whatever).  The weather was cool and cloudy with just a couple sprinkles.  Not having the sun out was almost kind of nice since I'm a little bit sun and wind burned.

Ron pulled in quite a few walleye and I make good work against the pike.  Around mid-morning I finally get a pike on the line that did not thrash around like a pissed-off teenager and I knew it was a good one.  It gets near the boat before dragging line deep beneath the boat.  After a bit of work, the fish is tired and we get a big fat 36-inch pike in the boat.  I'll take that any day.  I'm equally happy after a successful release back into the Winnipeg River.

We continue fishing for the rest of the morning.  As we are about to head to our lunch spot we see a bald eagle fly low over our boat.  Derrick takes one of our small perch and thumps it on the head and throws it into the air.  The eagle, which is now in a fir tree looking over the bay, sees this and flies down, taking it off the water just a few yards from the boat.  It is very dramatic (I think Ron has a better picture than this which I hope to steal a copy of).

We stop and fish a bit more before heading to one of the beach areas to eat.  I walked out to the rocky point to look for wolf tracks.  They are hard to find after the previous day's rain, but I do find two sets of them, the second set having smaller tracks of very young wolves.

Lunch is once again shore fish and potatoes.  It is easy to eat too much.  Carter and John stop by for a few minutes before we head out for some more fishing.  Temperatures have turned warm from the mornings gloom and I finished the day in shorts and a T-shirt again.

The afternoon's fishing isn't quite as good for our boat, but we still hook into a decent number of fish.  At one point I don't get my line out of the way of the boat in time on a turn and it gets wrapped up in the trolling motor - I felt like quite the waterhead.

As the afternoon wore on, it was time to head in.  The wind had picked up creating waves in the open areas.  At a point near the rapids, we see two bald eagles fighting mid-air.  The go at each other before tumbling in a triple barrel-roll, only to break away and fly off right near the water.  I'm not sure which was cooler, the eagle taking the perch right before lunch or the eagles fighting while headed back to camp?

As it got darker back at camp, the first boat came in early which was a good sign.  Both Amanda and Matt had shot nice bears off their stands.  It wasn't too long before the other boat came in with Mark and Tyler ... and two more bears.

So 10 hunters, 10 bears with one day to spare.  Incredible.

Delta Bear Hunt Day 7 - Spinnerbait Walleye

I slept pretty well and expected to wake up to rain.  But I woke up to another steely grey Manitoba morning.  It was much warmer than I expected as well.

After coffee and reading a few things online, I took my pole out to the bay and cast by the boat ramp.  I ended up catching the largest pike I've gotten yet.  It was a bit tough to get the treble hook off without any kind of pliers.  It was only about 24" but I could interpret it as a good omen.

After breakfast, Mike (guide) took Justin and I out to fish.  We headed into Blind Bay.  On my first cast I ended up hitting a decent pike and bringing it in.  This was followed shortly by another pike.  Neither were huge, but catching pike is always fun.  Even the little guys often fight like big fish.

We worked our way around the bay with both Justin and I bringing in a fair number of fish.  None of them were huge, but it was at least a very consistent amount.  It was also surprising that they were hitting on just about everything.  I did catch one fish which was fairly respectable in size - not a monster, but at least as big as my boat ramp fish from the morning.

We headed in for a shore lunch at the lodge which was good, but not the same as an actual shore lunch in a remote area at the shore.

Once done with lunch I was getting really tired - so it was imperative to get out fishing soon before I got even sleepier.  Luckily that was the plan as Justin, Ron and I headed out again with Mike.  This time we headed up to Petrushney Bay.  We probably brought in even more fish than the morning.  Again, none were very large, but it was still a lot of fun.

It was also an odd fishing afternoon since we brought in fish using unusual tackle.  Justin brought in a mooneye using an inline spinner, and I brought in a big walleye on a spinnerbait.  Sadly, that spinnerbait was later lost to a snag.

As we fished, the expected rain did start.  It ranged from a light mist to fairly heavy rain.  We all had rain gear which made it somewhere between tolerable and fun.  I did borrow Mike's Frog Toggs pants which saved my Donkey pants.

We headed back to the lodge around 6:00 after a very fun afternoon of fishing.  John had shot a really nice and big bear.  No one else had gotten anything.  Matt sat on the same stand I hunted from.  I suppose I was both hoping he would see some gosh-awful huge bear and wondering how I would react if he would see something like that on that stand.

Delta Bear Hunt Day 6 - Princess Bride Fishing

I woke up later than I have in a very long time - possibly years.  But I guess eating and going to bed so late will do that to someone.

After breakfast, Mike and I went out with Carter while Mike (guide) took Justin and Ron out.  We went way up river above the rapids and started by using bottom bouncers for walleye.  This was not proving very effective, so we went a little farther up river and started jigging.  

In the movie The Princess Bride, Inigo remarks, "I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using?" when the Dread Pirate ship is gaining on them.  I can relate to this after the morning's fishing, as the boat we were in barely caught any eating-sized fish, while the other boat limited out within a couple hours.  I wonder if they were fishing in the same water we were using?  This might be understandable if we were in different bays, but we were almost within casting distance the entire time.

It is also possible that some cosmic force knew that I find jigging a very unengaging method of fishing, so our boat was doomed.  This may be supported by the fact that I only caught one good sized walleye, and it escaped the net.  Regardless, by early afternoon, there was enough for a good shore lunch thanks to the other boat.

We headed a short distance back down river to Kendall.  This has to be one of the prettier spots on the river.

Mike (guide) and Carter cleaned the mess of fish caught in the other boat and cooked up a great shore lunch which also included a can of stuffed jalapeño peppers.

After lunch we continued fishing, but switched to casting for pike.  We fished a few bays through the afternoon.  The fishing was good, but not great.  Most of the fish caught were smaller pike, but I did manage to bring in another pretty good smallmouth.

Throughout the afternoon, the wind picked up considerably, making it easy to cast in one direction but hard to cast in the other.

As afternoon wore on, we decided to begin to head down river and try to fish at Lamprey Right Bay.  But once we got there, we were not sure if anyone was hunting that stand so we ended up going back to camp. 

The boat ride back to camp was absolutely brutal in the more open sections.  The wind had whipped the river into a wavey, kidney-punching torture fest for myself in the front of the boat.  Luckily there were only a few sections of river where it was really bad.

There was some down time in camp while the six people still hunting were out (Tyler's bear wasn't recovered).  Once they were back, John (late to camp) had taken a nice sized sow.  Amanda had barely grazed a bear (which oddly came back to the barrel after that) and wasn't able to get another shot.  No one else had shot anything.

It was a good day.  So far the fishing has been a little bit tough this year, and with a storm brewing for Thursday, the future is in doubt.  I guess it always is.

I'm still hoping for one day, or even an afternoon where the pike are biting at anything that gets chucked at them?

Delta Bear Hunt Day 5 - After Bears, Fish

I woke up to a stunning Manitoba morning.  The air was cool and crisp with no wind.  The river was like a mirror.  Pictures on days like this are like cheating.

I sent a few I'm-in-an-awesome-place texts to a couple friends who should do things like this but rarely do.  Over the years I've gotten a few of these back as well so it is all fair.

After breakfast, Max took Tyler and I out for fishing after dropping another dude off at Kendall on the way.  We fished mainly by casting through the morning.  Fishing was good, but not great.  We caught enough fish that it didn't feel slow, but they were all small.  Even if the fishing has remained a little slow, the scenery is wonderful; miles of gorgeous coastline with almost no people and what evidence there is of civilization is not obtrusive and tucked out of the way.  

Conversation through the morning was good, even if some additional filtering may have been appropriate at times.

Lunch was once again soup and sandwich.  

The hunters went out after bears while Carter took Mike, Justin and I out for more fishing.

We started out by bottom bouncing for walleye.  I guess this is slightly less painful than jigging, but it is still not the most engaging way to fish.  It was also not terribly productive.  We did catch some walleye, but only 2 (or was it 3?) were big enough to keep.  We also had a lot of snags with Bag Al's hooks proving to be a frustrating tool for the job.  I think Big Al has some quality control problems.

When we ran out of Big Al's substandard hooks, we switched to casting.  This was a good turn since the fishing in the later afternoon was much better.  We were able to hook into a consistent amount of pike with a few smallmouths thrown in.  Some of the smaller pike were hitting lures with a brutality not commensurate with their size.  Several times we said that we had finally hooked into something big, only to see another snot rocket get reeled into the boat.

I did manage to bring in one smalley which was somewhere in the impressive arena.

We fished right up until dark before heading back into camp.  The six people still hunting filtered in through the evening.  Shockingly, only one bear had been shot at by Tyler, but its hoped recovery was going to have to wait until the morning.  Most of the bears seen were either small or maybe-on-Friday in size.  

I got pathologically tired and was ready for bed about 5 minutes after another excellent dinner.  Bear camp brings some bad eating and sleeping habits.  I love it.

Delta Bear Hunt Day 4 - Dropping Guns (and Bears)

The cabin was quite dark and quiet so I slept really well.  After waking up and putzing around for a bit, everyone met for breakfast followed by a morning of fishing.  I went out in Derrick's boat with Justin.  It was a beautiful steely grey morning.  Fishing started out slow, but there was enough action to keep things interesting.  All the pike we caught were small, but it was still great to be catching fish.  I did catch one smally in addition to the pike.  Justin spent quite a bit of time using a flyrod, which would have been neat to see, but he wasn't able to connect with it.

On the way back in camp we stopped for a few casts in Petrushney (and I am just about sure that isn't spelled right) Bay.  It has been a very dry summer in Manitoba, but recent rains had started the water running again at the small waterfall at the mouth of the bay.

After soup and sandwich for lunch, we all headed out to go after bears.  I was headed back to Moose Creek, the same stand I had been on the previous night.  Matt was also on the same stand he sat on previously.  Mike was dropped off first at the other downriver stand that hadn't been sat on yet.

When Max and I walked into the stand there was a bear on the bait with his head stuck in the barrel.  The activity on this stand is incredible.  At least the bear ran off this time - likely because nothing was left in the barrel.

I got up into the treestand and got settled.  Max gave me the thumbs up before heading back to the boat.  Just as he got out of sight, the whole stand shifted in a jolting manner.  My rifle slid, banged on the footrest of the ladder stand.  I reached to grab it, straining my arm only to watch the gun tumble to the ground.  I stared in horror as my Ruger was sitting, barrel nearly straight down several inches in the dirt, like a planted tree.  OH SHIT!  I made sure everything else was secure and climbed out of the treestand.  The barrel was plugged with dirt.  I ran back to the boat.  In hindsight, I'm not sure what I was going to do at the boat that I couldn't do there, but two brains are better than one.  Max and I made an impromptu gun cleaning kit out of some saplings and some leaves.  We got the barrel at least mostly clean.

I nervously went back to the stand - since there had been a bear on it before, I wasn't sure it wouldn't have come back to the filled bait barrel.  Back in the treestand I get settled again - this time being overly cautious.  My mind pondered my rifle.  I would have been more nervous had the scope been hit or if it had been wacked in the action.  While dirt in a barrel is bad, ranges in bear hunting are close enough that impact would be unlikely to be shifted enough to give a bad hit.  Right???

The first bear came in at an early 3:30, surprising with all the gun falling and in/out of the stand.  It spent time getting the logs out of the barrel, but ended up pulling one from the top end of the barrel through the side hole - getting it very stuck in the process.  The bear was not happy and spent quite some time shredding the log with its teeth and claws to get at the food inside.  Note to self:  Do not get in a fight with a bear.

A second bear came in a short time later.  As with the previous night, both bears barely tolerated each other at the bait ... barely (or would that be bearly?).

The second bear only stuck around a short time, with the first bear staying for over an hour.  Then I had a long uncomfortable stretch where nothing was happening.  It was still a very nice evening.  Temperatures were perfect with some sun, but in the deep, thick woods it wasn't hot.  There were a few mosquitoes, but not too bad.  There was absolutely no wind which was both good and bad:  good since it made the evening serene, bad since every movement felt like I was banging a gong advertising my presence for miles around.

The somewhat uncomfortable stand also made the long stretch more difficult.  I spent too much time pondering the impact of the fall on my rifle, whether I should switch to my back-up TC shotgun.  I wondered why I wasn't seeing all the bears from the previous evening.  Time passed slowly.  I had to remind myself how incredible it is that I get to do these things.  I recently saw an article discussing Type 1 Fun (fun in the moment) versus Type 2 Fun (not fun in the moment, but fun - usually really fun - in retrospect).  Hunting can sometimes be both Type 1 and Type 2 at the same time.

As the evening started to approach some longer shadows, another bear came in.  My heart raced since I was hoping that the less amount of bears compared to the previous evening might mean something big was nearby.  But it was a small bear.  I watched it for a while before it left.  

I had another bear circling me a short time later.  I caught only a few glimpses of it behind me.  I was not sure how big it was, but it was obviously very wary.

As the darkness grew bigger, another bear came from the opposite side of the barrel.  I was sure this was going to be a big bear.  I had already brought my gun up on my Bog Pod with the previous bear.  In the dimming light, I saw the bear turn broadside, brought my gun up and shot.  The bear hunched and took off.  I knew it was hit, but I didn't hear it moan.  I also didn't hear it crashing away.  After waiting not enough time, I climbed out of the stand and nervously approached the barrel.  Just beyond the bait was my bear.  It wasn't the monster that I thought it was, but it was a beautiful Manitoba black bear.

The situation was much like my 2011 bear hunt - where I assumed I should see a big bear, even if part of my brain knew the bear I was looking at through my scope wasn't huge.

Once back in the stand, I pondered the last decade.  If in 2011 I was a bit disappointed with a smaller bear, in 2021 I saw a beautiful animal after two incredible days on the stand - with five days to still spend fishing with great people.  Midlife may be painful, but perspective is everything.  There are Big Questions nearly every day, but these small, beautiful moments can't be traded for anything.  Even if I had visions of huge Canadian bears as I spent 20 hours driving to get here, once the bullet left the barrel, I am happy with the result.  Quite frankly, I am the luckiest SOB on earth (with apologies to Sam Malone).

Max had heard me shoot from the boat quite a ways out since it was such a quiet evening.  He came in early.  When I heard the boat I cautiously walked past the barrel and met him at the shore.  "Did you shoot?"

"I did."

"Did you get it, do you know where it is?"

"It is right by the barrel.  You can't miss it.  I'll got get my stuff from the stand."

"Right on man!"

I got my stuff while Max loaded my bear in the sled.  We took a few pictures and got the bear loaded into the boat.  Then we headed down to pick up Matt.  Like me, he had seen a few bears, but nowhere near as many as the previous day.  One bear in the area when Max went in circled the stand - huffing and puffing in a menacing manner.  No doubt these bears are aggressive this year, likely due to a mix of not as much food and little hunting pressure for almost two years.

Back at camp a total of four bears were taken (Mike, Justin, Ron and mine).  We all ate dinner while the guides started skinning and quartering the bear meat.  My shot had been right through the boiler room so the impact of the gun falling was negligible.  Only a small amount of one shoulder was bloodshot.  It was a late night for me, but even later for the guides as I went to bed once my bear was cleaned.

Delta Bear Hunt Day 3 - Bears All Night

After the stress of getting across the border was removed, I slept surprisingly well.  I woke up in time to poke around online and have a bit too much coffee before hitting the road for the final leg of my journey.

It was raining heavily as I got packed up, and I knew it was going to slow me down, so I had no problem leaving a little early.  I got out of Fort Frances and worked my way north and west.  This part of the drive is quite remote and I would have enjoyed it if it hadn't been so dark and dreary, but I was also getting excited.

I stopped in Kenora just as Walmart was opening and bought some seltzer water and a few bags of M&Ms.  I have no idea what made me buy the candy.

Just outside of Kenora I had a deer run out in front of me, reminding me I need to keep my eyes open.  Thankfully the rain had stopped by this point.  Another deer ran towards me just outside of West Lake; it seemed determined to end it all by my front bumper, but I was able to avoid her.  

Once into Manitoba, I saw another deer run across the road with a wolf on her heels - definitely a first for me.

After stopping to get gas in Lac du Bonnet, I made my way to camp.  I saw Vance as I was pulling in and he pointed me to a cabin behind the skinning shed.  It wasn't ready yet so I chucked a lure into the water for a while, getting one bite by the dock.  Once the cabin was ready, I putzed around a bit waiting for everyone else to arrive.  Their border crossing was not so smooth.  One person had an antigen test instead of a PCR test and was turned away.  Everyone else was selected for another PCR test by Canada, so it took a couple of hours for everyone else.  Eventually they made it into camp, with just enough time to head out to hunt.

Carter took Matt, Tyler and me down river.  I was dropped off second.  Bear hunting had started.  As is usually the case, it took a bit of time to settle down.  This was made harder by the stand leaning uncomfortably forward.  Around 5:30 I was squirming around thinking to myself it was going to be a long sit when a bear immediately to my left startled me.  It walked around a bit before coming out into the bait.  It was a smaller bear, but fun to watch.  I will never tire of how cool it is being so close to these animals.  That first bear started what ended up being one of the most active days of bear hunting I have ever had.  For the rest of the night, there were bears in front of and around me.  It was awesome.

It was hard to think about how fortunate I am to have these adventures.

There were several times where there were two bears on the bait at the same time.  Any time this happened, they tolerated each other - but only barely.  They would moan and growl menacingly at each other.  A few times, this reach the level where they started fighting.  It was quite intimidating being less than 50 yards from bears which were snarling and fighting.

I'm not sure how many different bears in total I saw, but it was between five and ten.  

As the night went on, the bears got incrementally bigger.  Late in the evening, I had to struggle to decide if a bear was big enough to take.  None of them were jaw-droppers, but the last bear I saw in daylight was a really nice bear (picture below is actually the second-to-last bear I saw).

Ultimately my gun stayed silent.  As it got dark I could hear another bear come in and in the murky shadows it looked much bigger.  I could hear two of them growling on the bait as Carter came and got me.  One bear took off, but the other absolutely refused to leave.  I had to get out of the stand with that pissed-off bear making sure I knew that I was an invasion.  It was both exciting and a bit scary.

Matt had had a similar night to mine, with bears nearly continuously past about 5:30.  Tyler had seen one, which had walked right under him.

Back in camp, everyone except Jon (waiting on new COVID test) was there.  Everyone who had hunted had seen bears which was pretty incredible.  There was one shot, but it wasn't found yet in the dark.  Looking would resume in daylight.

Dinner was late but good.  I went to bed happy to be in camp, lucky to have seen so many bears, and rethinking my decision not to shoot.

Delta Bear Hunt Day 2 - Crossing the Border

Not surprisingly, I was up really early.  I putzed around the hotel room a bit before deciding I might as well leave.  After packing up, I was on the road before 5:00 local time.  Traffic was non-existent while the lights on the wind turbines winked at me.  Being nearly the only car on the road, I slowed only slightly for a construction zone, only to see the car that came up behind me was a cop car.  I'm glad he had better things to do.

I continued north, crossing the Wisconsin border in time to see the sunrise.  The sunrise didn't last long since there was very heavy rain just to the west.  I kept an eye on the radar, happy that the rain largely dissipated before it got to me.  Because it was still early, I was into and out of the Madison area without even realizing it - that does not happen at a state capitol very often.

Traffic did thin somewhat as I continued north.  

I was listening to Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land.  I had read a glowing review of the book about how it explores what it means to be human.  The book started out OK, but it got worse and worse through the day.  I'm not sure what book the reviewer was reading, but the book does not explore humanity.  It only tangentially explores screwed up 1950's society, but then devolves into a storyline of the creation of a messed-up sex cult.  The only blessing of the sex cult is that it breaks up the long periods of the book where absolutely nothing happens besides some arrogant and verbose doctor/lawyer pontificating ad nauseam - I can only surmise that this was a vehicle for Heinlein to share his own rambling thoughts.  I will finish the book, but only because there is enough time invested in it that I feel stupidly compelled to do so.  And once finished, I hope I never hear the word "grok" again.

I got in US53 and continued north.  The stretch of highway between Eau Claire and Duluth had much more traffic than I recall from previous trips, but north of Duluth, it thinned very quickly.  Duluth was a bit of a mess with a poorly signed US53 detour.  This was made worse by extremely heavy fog which seemed confined to just the Duluth area.  Garmin to the rescue.

I had about an hour of heavy rain in Northern Minnesota, with it stopping just as I was getting into International Falls.  The rain only slightly detracted from the awesome "Northiness" of the scenery.  Birch trees.  Boggy spots.  Granite outcroppings.  Magical...

As I got near the Canadian border, I started to feel a bit of apprehension:  Was all my paperwork in order?  The initial contact with the border guard was typically terse as he looked over everything.  I don't envy the guards since they need to interpret an infinite number of formats for the COVID PCR test reports.  Mine must have been acceptable so he sent me inside to complete the gun paperwork.  Inside the guard asked what I was bringing in.  "A rifle and a shotgun."

"The shotgun is a Thompson?" he asked looking at my form.

"It's a slug gun."

"What are you doing with it?"

"Bear hunting."

"What do you do with the bear?"

"Eat it, maybe put it on the wall..."

I said that bear tastes a lot like beef.  He just shook his head.  I wasn't going to argue with him, his arms were about as big around as my legs are.  I paid the fee and was on my way into a foreign country.

My hotel was only a couple miles away.  I texted the other hunters that I was in Canada.  Mark called and we talked about the border crossing a bit.  

It was still pretty early so I took a walk by the bay - there was a really nice walkway and park which I was surprised was nearly empty.  The walk felt good after driving all day.

I realized that the other side of the river was the US.  So close, yet so far away.  I guess boats have to (mostly) stick to their own side.

There are train tracks across the river, which means someone could walk across if they chose to.  This was a stupid realization since there are hundreds of miles of the US/Canada border that someone could walk across if they wanted to (hello North Dakota and Montana).  It was also really stupid to take this picture since there are probably 289 cameras watching this spot in the border.  When a cop pulled into the park as I was leaving, I couldn't help but think that getting deported for farting around on the train tracks would be a new level of stupidity even for me.

When I was looking at my route to Manitoba, I saw something called the Fort Frances Tower, which is a 100 foot tower (I'm in Canada, shouldn't that be 30.5 meters?) that overlooks much of the area.  This looked really cool, so I walked down to it only to see that it was clearly marked Closed.  I might have made a fool of myself and asked anyway, but I didn't have a mask to go into the Marina.  Still, the second walk for the afternoon was just as enjoyable as the first, if also a little disappointing.

Back at the hotel, Dinner was another Annie Chun's noodle bowl and Zingers.

Thank you Canada for letting me in.  I am ready for the Adventure to really begin.

Delta Bear Hunt Day 1 - COVID(s) Negative

Some background context is in order here.  In 2018, I went bear hunting.  There was a group in camp that week from the Missouri/Kansa area.  They were a good group and I was in the fishing boat with them various times through the week.  Shortly after getting home, Mark asked me if I wanted to join them in 2020 - with enough people, they could take over camp and were looking for another person or two.  Just when I'm sure that I'm one of the biggest jack-wads in the world, I get a nudge that maybe I'm not the worst?  I won't let it got to my head.

But I had already scheduled another bear hunt for 2019.  The intangible pull north is impossible to neglect - toward wild places and good people.  And bear hunting for three years in a row seemed excessive; regretfully I had to turn Mark's offer down.

2020 came and ... well ... Mark's bear hunt did not happen.

July 19, 2021 Canada announced the border would open to "non-essential" travel on August 9.  Of course bear-hunting was quite essential all along.  I emailed Vance - Any chance bear hunting can still happen this year?  No.  Too many people in the queue.  I understood and was almost relieved since the border crossing would not be trivial.  But within a few days I got an email from Mark - one of their crew had dropped out since he didn't want to be vaccinated.  Did I want to join them?  I did!  They were to be the fist group in camp after 18 months without any bear hunting.  I really did!  I was shocked he still remembered me after three years.

The Canadian Border Guards threatened to strike.  Clearly this was a moment where labor had a full house to the government's pair of 3's.  On the weekend before the border was to open, the border guards began "work to rule" - essentially following the letter of the law at whatever pace they wanted.  Lines at the border grew to miles and wait times were over 12 hours in some places.  A labor agreement was quickly reached.  The border opened August 9.  Wait times on that first day were long, as United States residents seemed eager to head north, but this was short lived and after that first day, border delays became minimal.

As the time to leave approached, I didn't let myself get excited.  While not unreasonable, the extra steps to get into Canada were not insignificant.  With Delta variant spreading and vaccination rates stubbornly low in the US, I wasn't sure the border wasn't going to close again.  The most difficult step was getting a PCR COVID test within 72 hours of crossing the border.  I got one a few days before as a disaster check, then another on Thursday.  I wasn't sure when I would get those results, so Thursday afternoon I got yet another PCR test (getting results of my first one around that same time).  All results were negative, so I didn't end up in a sticky situation.  The clock was ticking on my 72 hours, but it was finally time to get excited.

I took Friday off from work and after a ritual morning dog walk, I packed and then finished mowing a yard which was still very soggy from Thursday's torrential rain.  A little after 1:00, I was on the road headed west.  I stayed on 2-lane roads all the way to Indianapolis since there was a really slow construction zone on I-74.  I don't know that this was faster, but it was less frustrating.  Getting around Indy was...  Then it was a slog west to El Paso (not Texas).  The text messages from the other hunters were going like crazy; it was hard not to look at them a few times.  The hotel was OK, a little grungy, but tolerable.  Dinner was an Annie Chun's noodle bowl and a couple zebra cakes.

There was a lot of loose ends to tie up over the last few days, but it is starting to get real now.

50/80/50 Trip Day 11 - Home

 Jacksonville, IL to Home:  347.1 miles

I got a later start than usual, but not late as I was still out the door before actual sunrise.  I decided to wait for free hotel waffles and they did not disappoint.  They even had chocolate chips for them.

After eating, I was glad to be out the door toward home.  With Covid killing hotel breakfasts for the last 18 months, this was the first time I've had gratis hotel waffles in a very long time.

I jumped on I-72 and headed east.  There was very heavy rain to the Northwest.  It was moving slowly, but I still did not want to get caught in it.  The morning was temperate and cloudy.  Instead of a sunrise pushing me down the road, I was moving toward it.

I made my way east.  I thought about jumping off the interstate and taking US-36, but there really wasn't anything I wanted to see and the thought of dealing with traffic was too heinous.

I spent time trying to decide if I should work the next day.  The weather forecast doesn't look too good, so rather than sit around all day, I may clandestinely work from home and at least clear out my inbox.  I suppose I can decide in the morning.

Getting around Indianapolis was ... Indianapolis.  Jumping back on I-74 I got caught in construction that came to a standstill a few times.  I'm not sure why I can drive thousands of miles, at times on busier highways and have the construction beat me up so close to home.  At one point I yelled, "People, I just want to get home!" and traffic started moving.  I never knew I had that power.

I got home early afternoon.  The dogs were quite happy to see me and the lawn was ugly long.  With rain forecast, there wasn't any choice but to mow immediately.  While I didn't really want to do this, it did allow me a chance to replay many events of the past 11 days.

50/80/50 Trip Day 10 - I Still Was a Mad Man

 North Platte, NE to Jacksonville, IL:  663.8 miles

I woke up to rain at some point overnight.  By the time I got up it was mostly dry, but there were massive puddles everywhere so the rain must have been relatively heavy.

There was no coffee maker in the room so I walked down to McDonalds - the first time I've been in a McDonalds in many years.  The coffee was OK, but in all fairness probably better than hotel coffee.  It sprinkled a little on my way back to the hotel.

Once packed I was on the road a little before daylight again.  The radar showed a little rain up ahead, but it didn't look too bad so I didn't put on my rain suit.  As it got light the rain down the road started to look much worse.  As I got closer I started to see quite a bit of lightning too.  I stopped to put on my rain suit which was 100% the right thing to do as I subsequently went through a couple hours of very heavy rain with frequent lightning strikes.  There was enough cloud to ground lightning to be concerning as well.  I pulled the early radar image and while northern Nebraska looks a lot worse, it was bad enough.

The lightning was bad enough I wasn't totally happy being on the road, but I just didn't see waiting this one out as a possibility.

Stopping at a gas station during some heavy rain, the guy at the pump next to me looked at me dripping wet in my rain suit and said, "You, sir, are a real motorcyclist."

"Uh, maybe a real dumb one?"

And I could tell I was back in the midwest since people talked to me at every gas stop through the day.

Eventually the rain lightened and stopped.  I decided to avoid the interstate and drove south before hitting I-29.  There was very little traffic which was nice, but it also got broiling hot and humid.  When I was stopped for a train anyway, I pulled over and took off the rain suit.

Crossing into Kansas briefly, I got treated to another ear worm:  Carry On My Wayward Son ... though my mind could think I still was a mad man...

I was surprised to see quite a bit of terraced farming in the area.  This must be a pain to farm, but I guess it does allow more productivity if the soil is really good.

I crossed over into Missouri.  North-South Missouri is a bit of a slog, but East-West wasn't too bad.  There were some pretty views as well with the road snaking out to infinity.

Throughout much of the Midwest, I've been hitting these rock hard bugs (they hurt if they hit me in the face).  One of these little buggers wedged itself inside my helmet and started crawling around.  I didn't stop, but did finally get it out and saw it was a Japanese beetle.  Yet another reason to hate the evil things.

I crossed the Mississippi River at Hannibal, MO.  SO and I had been here in August of 2002 when we still toured on a Harley Dyna Superglide T-Sport.  We met some really goofy motorcycle characters while exploring the world of Mark Twain.  It was one of several very memorable things about that trip.  The world is different now.

I made it to Jacksonville and easily found my hotel.  It seemed to be a fairly new building and was a REALLY nice room.  Subway and cookies rounded out the evening.  I'm ready to be home.