Gun season 2000 This year was the season of close calls and weird stuff...
(Pictures will be posted when they become available)
1) I had left my hometown during a light snow for opening weekend. As I traveled further North, the snow had dwindled somewhat, but never really stopped. Then I got into lake effect snow, forcing me to drive 30-40 mph on the highway. It was snowing very hard at times; the low beams were reflecting on the big snowflakes more like high beams. Suddenly, there was a shape in the middle of the road. I began to slow down. As I got closer to it, I saw it was a deer, walking down the centerline, facing away from me and meandering into my lane. I slowed down even further - was a buck! I began honking and slowing even further to avoid this animal. The buck finally realized that he was being crowded, and tried to avoid me. The road was slick - he couldn't go, and I couldn't stop. I hit him square in the butt at 10mph. No damage to the vehicle as his legs slid underneath. Once both of us had stopped, he got up, and slowly, walked across the highway, and disappeared into the snowy night. With all the excitement, I didn't even count the number of tines! I got to Sawdust City II camp, favorite hunting spot for Mr. Sawdust City, just to spend the night. He had already bagged a nice 8-point 145-pound buck in Michigan.
2) On the way to the deer camp on Friday afternoon, Mr. Sawdust City was riding along with me, the 8-mile access road was snow-covered and slippery. I was using 4-while drive. The first 7 miles was pretty straight. The last mile has more curves and hills. One hunter had parked his vehicle on a hill on a curve, and the curve was banked the wrong way. I started sliding at 30mph, albeit with 4-wheel drive, right towards the vehicle and the approaching hunter (with 50-pound feed bag on his shoulder) coming from the woods. I turned the steering wheel and give it a little gas and managed to avoid both the car and him, but now I'm on the wrong side of the road, sliding down at a 45 degree angle. I turned the wheel and somehow avoided going into the ditch on the other side. Good thing both of us brought a change of underwear.
3) The iron gate across the access road was locked - we couldn't get into camp. According to "Mad Dog," he had brought the wrong key. "Springer" was still on the way, but we didn't know where he was. So, we waited for 45 minutes. Springer finally showed up. After a couple minutes, it WAS the right key - it just a frozen lock.
4) Mad Dog's pickup had sprung a coolant leak and was really bad going into camp.
Opening Day - the DNR announced via radio that hunting hours were extended to be past the hours published in the rule book. The hours were half hour before sunrise and 20 minutes after sunset. But there was some confusion when the radio didn't always broadcast the those times.
5) Opening day saw does at every bait pile. At dusk, Mad Dog saw a doe, and a bigger shape in the brush. That shape wound up to be a monster buck, which only came out of hiding for 3 seconds. The gun wasn't at the ready, and then it was too dark anyway - could not be spotted in the scope. A half-hour earlier would have resulted in something hanging from the buck pole.
6) Saturday night, after supper, Mad Dog was doing dishes. After what appeared to be the last dish, he said something like "OK!", and moved away from the sink area. I moved in to do something at the sink. Mad Dog only had left the sink to get a remaining soup kettle, with his intention of dumping its hot water into the sink. When he turned around, Surprise!!, I was at the sink, and a pot of hot water was almost on the way all over me. One more step, and I would have been the proud owner of two scalded arms. Luckily, Mad Dog had stopped short.
7) Sunday morning, still opening weekend, there were morning temperatures were in the low teens. Neither the ATV's wanted to start.
8) Sunday night saw a snow flurry turn into a winter storm, with a total of 2 feet dumped in a 24-hour period. Monday morning, nothing was moving. The snow had blocked off Mad Dog's path to get to his blind. Although apparently not as newsworthy as Buffalo, NY, we almost didn't get out of camp - and then almost didn't get out of my hometown-North.
Mr. Sawdust City broke camp with me and returned to Sawdust City II - he still had another tag to fill. So, Mad Dog sat in my blind, observing some days in the afternoon. On Tuesday, Mad Dog had pulled his equipment and his portable blind out of there, citing not being buck-productive.
9) Corey, hunter extraordinaire, 15-year-old nephew of Mad Dog's and Springer's, came into camp while I was away, and sat in my blind, keeping my seat warm. As luck would have it, a 6-point buck came into view Thanksgiving day for him - just hours before I would arrive back. However, the blind's window was still closed. When Corey opened the window to position the gun, the hinge squeaked, and off ran the buck without even a shot being fired.
10) Springer, meanwhile, had shot at a fork-horn. The buck had jumped, and they only thing left was the blood trail. Springer tracked the buck until dark, without any luck. The following morning, Springer and Corey sat off to find the walking wounded. After walking a mile, through thick swamp, and hardwoods, and cedar trees, and knee-deep snow, they called of the search, even though numerous blood pools were found, and the buck was seen twice. He just kept going. One of the bedding areas was within 10 feet of where Mad Dog's had torn down his portable blind.
11) While the second weekend was uneventful for me. On Friday and Saturday the temperatures warmed up to 40 degrees. That's great for sitting outside. It also means that the snow that was still perched on all the trees from last weeks storm was beginning to melt and fall off, causing quite a commotion in the woods. While I'm watching red-tailed squirrels from my blind, Corey, set-up now at a different location, saw a fork-horn almost in the brush, as well as a doe. Believing that the buck would not come into closer, Corey took a shot. The buck and the doe took off, no blood, no hair, just a little clump of pine needles where the bullet had glanced off a pine tree.
12) Sunday morning - The usual activity was happening at everyone else's blind - nothing again in mine. After the morning hunt, it was time for me to go back home, leaving the afternoon hunt to the other three remaining in camp. Corey moved into my blind, and Mad Dog posted at Corey's. While's were being observed at MD's and Springer's, there was a shot heard in Corey's direction. Both thought Corey had shot. When Corey returned, he said there was a spike horn he was observing, but never took a shot. When returning his bullets, one was bullet was missing. Hmm... The case of the missing bullet.
So - that's it. While we were battling the cold, Mr. Sawdust City bagged another buck, a spike horn, at the Sawdust City II camp. The longer antler was a whopping 4 inches long. And we, still disappointed with our luck, or lack of it, could only plan for next year. What the heck - hopefully the bucks will grow a little bit more.