Youth Hunt, Another Lesson

“How long will we sit here?” asked little Mason Nevis.

“Until the turkeys come,” I replied.

Silence.

I wondered what the little guy thought of that. Maybe a tough reality, but I didn’t want him to think we were going to give up easily and start bouncing from tree to tree or attempting to sneak up on turkeys. In my world that is not real turkey hunting.

I believed his no-reply was an endorsement of my statement.

We waited another hour and I continued my sporadic calling. A tom appeared in a flat about 200 yards to our right and slightly down hill. A second and a third followed him across and opening.

I continued to call and they gobbled. I could still see one of them and he turned towards us and sprinted. “Get ready,” I told Mason.

We had done some dry firing with the H&R 20 gauge single shot, but he had not fired  live rounds from this borrowed shotgun and I knew that he was at a disadvantage.

The turkeys gobbled again, closer and I knew they were near, but couldn’t see them any more. We waited and waited, but they failed to show. Most likely they’d been intercepted by a hen turkey and led away – following what males in heat follow.

We waited some more. Now it was time to retract my statement.

“Let’s move down to the spot where I saw the turkeys,” I announced. We were on our feet stretching, gathering decoys and I’m certain both Mason and his father, Mike, were happy to be moving.

We carried our gear about 300 yards down the gradually sloping hill past the area where the toms had stood an hour before and I looked for a spot to set the decoys up where they could be seen and we could hide against a reasonably large oak. Mike hid beside a log out of the line of fire.

About 75 yards in front of us, the canyon dropped off steeply and that’s where most of the turkey calling was coming from.

We placed the strutting tom decoy and receptive hen twenty yards in front. The distance was important as it was the distance at which Mason would shoot the gobbler.

Sitting behind Mason, who was left-handed, gave me a good view of his sighting. Unfortunately, I had not brought shooting sticks, which would have helped his aim by supporting the weight of the shotgun as he waited. I was concerned that the ten-year old, who weighed about 75 pounds, would have trouble holding the gun up as the birds slowly worked their way to the decoy.

“Maybe one will come running in,” I wished to myself. But that seemed unlikely for toms still following flocks of hens.

In position, I made a few soft yelps with my mouth diaphragm. Deep yelps, of a boss hen. And, an answer came from the canyon.

Another deep yelp. I responded in kind.

Then a gobble and several back-up gobbles. Things were heating up and the birds were only about 100 yards away – just over the drop off.

I continued the yelping and the responses were positive. We were about to have action.

Turkeys rose up from the canyon. First a bright read head stared in our direction.

“I can see one,” I told Mason. “Stay still.”

The tip of a tail fan appeared and finally four gobblers, one in full strut. Their heads were like neon signs. The sun glistened off the tail fan of the dominant bird.

Later Mike said it was surreal, and he was right.

The four gobblers and a hen turkey approached. The hen veered to our left and the gobblers could now see the big strutting tom decoy. The three jakes were leery of the big intruder, but the dominant strutting tom was well aware of the challenge - but not sure whether to stay with the hen or defend.

His head jerked up as he spotted the squatting hen decoy. Now he was mad – no sex allowed for this intruder. He approached directly towards the plastic gobbler. I whispered to Mason to cock the shotgun. The target bird was at 25 yards and getting closer. 

“Wait till he reaches the decoy and then shoot,” I whispered while making yelps which seemed to keep the toms gobbling and distracted. At 20 yards, I coaxingly told Mason, “Shoot.” 

Shifting slightly to line up the barrel, the birds caught sight of the movement. Now they were all staring.

I felt like a discovered burgler. My head was spinning. It was all up to Mason. I waited and watched the barrel make circles around the gobbler’s head. Now the strutting bird turned and began to slowly move off – floating away. I felt helpless.

I didn’t want to put pressure on Mason, so I said nothing. Then, just as it appeared he was about to pull the trigger, the big bird stopped directly in front of two jakes. I’d seen this before and I didn’t want three turkeys dropping at once.

“Wait,” I whispered. “Three are lined up.”

Mason must have got the message, because he held off – impressive.

As the birds moved apart, still at 25 yards I said, “OK, now.”

Watching the circling barrel, I wished for a dead bird. The little 20 gauge popped and the gobblers walked away. I could see no obvious damage.

I was dizzy and disoriented, I could have thrown up.

It was a wonderful, but painful.

That wasn’t everything that took place on Monday. We tried again after lunch and had another close call, but Mason didn’t take home a turkey.

We all experienced a bunch of the good stuff that comes with hunting and it will be with us for a while. For me, it was one of my most exciting hunts ever.

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Bad News – but Good News in UC Lead-Poisoning Reports

These turkey vultures were captured on film with a trail camera.

Two reports from UC Davis confirm what most of us have expected. Turkey vultures, ravens and golden eagles eat the remains of deer, pig, bear and various varmints killed by hunters and those birds have been proven to ingest lead when eating the remains that contain lead from lead bullets.

Lead bullets often fragment when they enter the target animal. Those fragments can spread throughout the meat and intestines of game animals killed by lead bullets. Often, the intestines of game animals – along with hide and sometimes bones – are left in the field after the animal is harvested. Vultures are one of the first to take over a gut pile.

Varmints are often left afield when killed by varmint hunters or predator hunters.

Here are links to the UC Davis reports:

The first is entitled, “Impact of the California Lead Ammunition Ban on Reducing Lead Exposure in Golden Eagles and Turkey Vultures.” http://www.plosone.org/article/info:doi/10.1371/journal.pone.0017656

Golden eagles, like vultures, are vulnerable to lead poisoning from eating carrion laced with lead from bullets.

The second is entitled, “Lead Exposure in Free-Flying Turkey Vultures is Associated with Big Game Hunting in California.” http://www.plosone.org/article/info:doi/10.1371/journal.pone.0015350

The end game is a ban of the use of lead in projectiles used by hunters. This is nothing new as lead bullets have already been banned in most of Southern California. Part of the good news is that replacing lead in bullets is primarily only an expense. Hunters who believe in protecting the environment will pay this price as part of hunting.

It is unfortunate that additional costs may make it slightly more difficult to recruit new hunters, but recruitment is already difficult in California where few of us have an opportunity to appreciate the value of and goodness of hunting.

What other good news do these reports contain?

For one, we can maintain that hunters and the hunting industry have once again, as with steel shot,  taken action to protect California wildlife by accepting the costly challenge of producing and accepting non-lead ammunition.

Here is one quote: “These findings indicate that there has been a positive impact of the lead ammunition ban on reducing lead exposure in individual vultures sampled for our study.” Hunters take credit.

Here’s a pig that helped feed the local vultures.

I guess you might say ”the spin starts here,” but keep in mind that many hunters supported a ban on lead bullets and many more will support it now that these reports have been published.

And, a diminished group will continue to wail.

One report also makes an unintended pro-hunting statement. “Big game hunting in California is presumed to supply a substantial food source to avian scavengers, especially year-round wild pig hunting, which provides hunter-killed carrion throughout the year to scavengers within the wild pig range. Hunting activities vary by type and intensity throughout California and there is considerable overlap of different hunting seasons.” This may be the biggest endorsement of wild pig hunting by non-hunters ever.

It appears that hunters provide food for a significant portion of this avian population. Without hunting, we would (presumably) be faced with fewer of these large birds -  critters of importance. Hunters also provide a significant source of food for themselves.

So, we hunters are a step closer the elimination of lead bullets as a hunting option. The biggest issue is what will replace lead? Will it be effective? And, will it be inert?

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Consumptive Use and Wildlife Conservation

I recieved an email this week, from Suzanne Davies, asking me to create a link to a blog about photography and getting kids involved in the outdoors.  The blog is entitled “100 Resources for Teaching Your Kids About Wildlife Conservation” at http://photographydegrees.org/100-resources-for-teaching-your-kids-about-wildlife-conservation .

I responded that I’d check out her blog and I did so. Although the obvious intent of the blog was to promote photography and wildlife, I couldn’t help but notice that there was no mention of true conservation, at least in the traditional form. Conservation means to conserve, which implies use. In my opinion, consumptive use.

As a hunter, conservation organizations are Ducks Unlimited, Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, The Mule Deer Foundation, Pheasants Forever etc. None of these groups are listed among Suzanne’s top 100. Seeing this I am very disappointed. The implication is that wildlife conservation is preservation, which is not the case.

Hunting is a major reason why wildlife habitat still exists in the United States. Hunting will continue to provide valuable habitat in the future, unless unknowing individuals create the illusion that hunting is anti wildlife and I believe that Suzanne’s list accomplishes just that.

Sorry Suzanne, I don’t know if you ment it that way, but your list needs revision, or you will be doing kids and wildlife a disservice.

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Do Coyotes Eat Ants?

Pair of coyote tracks

The pair of coyote tracks in the above photo was pointed out to me by my brother, Rob, during one of our reptile surveys. He had already figured out what was going on, before telling me about them. The tracks were the front feet of a coyote. They were deeply groved into the soft dirt, an indication that the dog had stood in one place, moving his head and forcing the tracks into the ground deeper than usual. The size of the tracks was just right for a coyote, but I wouldn’t rule out a gray fox.

Two feet in front of the tracks was a bush that completely blocked the view in his front vision. He wouldn’t have been looking ahead of him as he could only see about one foot. Yet he had stood in this position for more than a brief moment.  About a foot in front of the track, ants were traveling in and out of an ant hole. The coyote had stopped at this spot to feast on a few ants before moving on.

Tracks and ant hole outlined

With a little assistance, the picture is made more clear.

Here are the ants.

ants circled

I wonder how many ants a coyote can eat.

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Turkey Season ends on Low Note, but First Hunt Still a Success

When I invited my young cousins to come turkey hunting, I knew it might be slim pickens. However, being their first hunt of any kind, I figured it would be worthwhile training.

A couple of weeks ago, I retook the hunter safety course along with my cousins, Orion and Max, 13 and 15 respectively. I was a little surprised that they were willing to invest the time – being urban youths from Berkeley, a concrete and asphalt town where skateboarding is king.

I was pleasantly surprised that they took a liking to the curriculum. The course was all about the right stuff and the boys ate it up. A follow-up turkey hunt was in order. I don’t know if it was what they expected or if they had any idea of what to expect, but we prepared by patterning the shotguns and making sure they could kill a turkey if the opportunity arose.

The hunt fell flat. We didn’t hear a single gobble or see a turkey or turkey track for that matter, but we gave it our all. Along the way we did see a few rattlers and other wildlife. The boys managed to catch a few bluebellies and knock off a couple ground squirrels with the .22. We had one of them for dinner – not too bad.

On Saturday afternoon we visited the site of a known rattlesnake den. Sure enough this is what we found – a Pacific rattlesnake. Earlier in the say we found a very young rattler. Notice the difference in appearance.

Young Pacific Rattlesnakes have diamonds like a diamondback rattlesnake

The boys shot plenty of clays with shotgun, .22 rifle and even my .22 revolver. I think they had a pretty good weekend. But, it was hard to tell on Sunday afternoon as they slept in my car in route home. After getting up at 4:30 AM, we were all pooped out including myself.

Turned out Orion was left eye dominant. He switched to left handed and shot well.

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Is Hunting a Sport?

After playing baseball for 25 years I can remember my days in the sun ‑ both of them.

Some high points come to mind… stealing a base and knocking in the game winning run a couple times, but unfortunately there were many more times when I missed fat pitches that came “right down the pipe.”

As a kid, baseball was very important to me. It was one of the ways I defined myself. In sports, athlete’s go for it. They swing for the fence, sometimes connecting and often failing. But in hunting, “going for it” often has unintended consequences.

My first year of deer hunting took place in 1971. I unleashed a rain of arrows on the deer of Lassen County. I finally killed the twelfth buck I shot at. It was not an efficient event, nor was my conduct a standard to follow. I wasn’t thinking about those things. I just wanted to kill a buck. I thought hunting was a sport. Amazingly, I didn’t wound any animals before I finally killed my buck.

A few years later, while hunting in Oregon’s Hart Mountain National Wildlife Refuge, I shot at a forked horn mule deer. The arrow was on line but fell low, hitting the buck in his left front leg. The sight of him stotting off on three legs with his front leg dangling by a tendon comes to mind.

As vividly as a recall the thrill of my first buck, I also recall my anguish of wounding that forked horn. We have limited ability to control the course of events in the physical world. Going five for five or hitting a home is a great thrill for a baseball player, and killing a nice buck is just as thrilling for the hunter, but once one has wounded an animal the difference between these activities is made much clearer.

Unlike baseball, my archery hunting carries on. I’ll never go five for five again, but I may take a great mule buck with wide antlers. Maybe it will happen this year. I’ll never go back and analyze my swing to figure out why I couldn’t hit more balls over the fence, but I can improve my shooting technique and self control. I can care for my equipment and tune my bow. I can practice to become the best archer I can be.

My archery career is still in full bloom. I can become a better archer and a better hunter, but I must spend time evaluating what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. 

A friend of mine recently discovered his grandfather’s bow, a hand crafted Osage orange wooden long bow. He was excited by the find and committed himself to hunting with it. He has sought out advice from professionals and is preparing to hunt with the primitive weapon. I hope it will be a satisfying hunt for him.

There was a time when I made a similar choice. About 20 years ago, I purchased a long bow and vowed that I would hunt mule deer with it. I remember my first stalk. I came around a large boulder on a Nevada mountain within 15 yards of a modest three‑point buck with pitch‑black, velvet antlers. I drew and released. The arrow sailed several feet over his back as he walked off. I have never felt as defeated as I did at that moment. I had no chance. At fifteen yards, the buck might as well have been 100.

I wasn’t prepared to wait for the ten yard shot, so I hung the primitive bow up, realizing I would never acquire the skill necessary for effective big game hunting with a long bow. If hunting were just a sport, there would have been no reason to give up on the primitive bow.  But,  hunting is not a sport.

You can treat hunting like a sport, but if you do so long enough, you’ll probably agree with me that hunting is a unique activity which has great merit, very personal results and is best practiced with a high level of individual integrity.

That’s why it’s so worthwhile.

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