Monday, November 30, 2009


  Every day that I come out of the woods dragging nothing but my gun barrel in the dirt, Shewho's daughter Teehoo rejoices. Like other non hunting, PETA card carrying citizens, Teehoo thinks most hunters shoot every deer they see. She can only surmise that I'm just one lousy hunter. Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind also. But lets do a survey of other hunters and compare.
   On opening day only Milawyer scored amongst the locals in our group. In Bird's little woodlot, he saw nothing and Waders saw a dozen deer, literally a couple hundred yards away. As opening week progressed I saw very few deer and no horns. I had shots at "Daffodils"  (doe) but couldn't pull the trigger. There's a certain amount of competitiveness amongst us hunters. You want to have a buck on the ground first. Let the Daffodils walk.
   Then on Friday, Bird and I went up to Cooperstown to hunt Ray Key's farm. This is a yearly ritual for us. Up there it's all about putting on drives, ragging each other and shooting bucks. When I say "bucks" I mean anything from a spike up. It's an  old school mind set that I don't subscribe to, so when a little "Mortimer" (spike) ran in front of Ray and I,  I didn't even raise the rifle, Ray whispered "Buck!" raised his gun, and stuttered. "Gawddamnit......I....I.....had my thing on. I thought you would shoot." I told him I wouldn't kill that little guy. He was disgusted with me. His "thing" was a scope cover he forgot to remove. The rest of the day "His thing on." became our mantra. The tally at the dark was one little three point shot by Davey. Pitiful.
    For those of you wondering if I will ever work again, my next job is an old 1850 farm house redo recently purchased down the road from Shewho in WSS, by good friends Chuckles McC, Contessa Von Freeland and son Ace. Ten year old Ace and Contessa came up this past weekend to take measurements. They have 26 acres of woods, ponds and fields. I hunted it on Saturday. I climbed up the mountain and saw five Daffodils. Ace looked out the window and saw a big buck under the apple tree near the house. He said he scared it up to me. I never saw it, of course. Later, back at my shack, Ace got a two inch splinter in his foot from sliding across my nasty floor. Shewho and Contessa held him down while I operated. I gave him a .243 shell to bite on. The operation was a success. Otherwise we would've had to saw his foot off in the morning. Now, Savage's report.

SAVAGE LYNCH'S DEER REPORT: Bobby Rowe and and I went back up to Les' yesterday. My cold feels better.  About 7 am five doe came through. I saw they were a bit hinky and thought they smelled me, but they were looking away. Then about 5 minutes later I caught sight of a buck on their trail. I pulled up and saw good horns. I had one chance for a shot at 150 yards and squeezed one off. I made a good hit on him. He was a nice 8 with one broken brow tine. Another hunter got an 11 at Paradise pond. That's the report.

Editor's note: As usual Savage scores and has better luck than any other hunter I know. If it wasn't for him there'd never be blood in this blog. I'm biting the bullet now.    

Monday, November 23, 2009


  Let me put my own frustration and disappointment aside and focus on the comraderie, good will, and success of other......ah fuck it! I've never hunted so hard and seen so few deer. The rut has come and gone and day after day I come up empty. If I was hunting for food I'd starve. On Friday (last day of bow) I told Shewho I would take a doe if I could. Then, heading to the stand behind the shack, I jumped a nice buck. So much for taking that doe. I saw nothing for the rest of the afternoon. Typical. This has been the way it's been going. I see deer from my bath tub, from the car, in people's front yards. But when I'm in the stand....the action ceases. I feel like spitting.
  There, I feel better. I had to get that off my chest. Opening night Bird and Ginger had a great get together. Old timers Danny Schaffer, Vic and Georgie, my folks, joined Savage Lynch, Milawyer, Waders, Bummer, Marge, Laurie, Lil' Bro Crissy, Betheroo, June Bug, Uncle Jimmy, Jaime, Shewho and I for a feast and recap of opening day. But, let Savage tell it.

SAVAGE LYNCH'S BEAR AND DEER REPORT: Mibrother (Milawyer) and I went up to Cragsmoor at dawn. About 7:30am I saw a doe and a four right on her tail. Then I heard Mibro shoot. I saw a deer take three steps and disappear. By the time i got to it Mibro was already standing over a nice nine pointer. I helped him get the deer down the mountain and went back in the stand. Later that afternoon I saw something black on the gut pile. I pulled the glasses up. It was two bear cubs and a small mother. Eventually they moved off and not 20 minutes later another two cubs and a bigger mother appeared on the guts. One of the cubs scurried off with the deers penis and ball sack dangling from its mouth.
  On Sunday I went back and had five bucks, ranging from a spike to a nine point chasing one hot doe under my stand. The eight was nice, but will be a slammer next year. I let them all walk. I gotta go to bed. Two days in the stand with a bad head cold is killing me.

Editor's note: I would've shot even a decent six at this point. But SL is a deer hunting guru and as usual he has the big buck stank on. I just ran into RNButch and he told me he shot a nice 8 on Saturday behind the cemetery. He forgot it was opening day, so he didn't get into the stand until 4pm and had the deer on the ground by 4:20. Now you see why I'm frustrated? As for me I'm ready to shoot that doe. My freezer is empty and if I don't put a bullet in something soon I'm gonna go nuts.   

Wednesday, November 18, 2009



Sunday, November 15, 2009


  Yesterday I hunted the morning in the Elijah stand and saw nothing. By the time I got home I already had a report from Savage. He'd been driving the golf cart to his stand (yes he drives the cart in) when he spotted a nice 8 just off the road. He kept driving (no eye contact) and stopped the cart 30 yards away. The buck lowered his head and started feeding. Savage got out his release, nocked an arrow, and.......the buck disappeared.
   I spent the rest of the morning creeping around in the rain. I jumped 8 deer. 5 I could tell were does. Then I went up early into Savage's stand above GNJohn's. He'd already told me he was going back to Orange County to hunt the afternoon. I made a couple of grunts and to my amazement a nice spike appeared and walked right under the stand. I had high hopes for the afternoon. I was wrong. Nothing came through. At dark I got down.
   Around 7pm Savage called. THE DEER REPORT: I'd blown a path with the leaf blower to my stand behind the house last week. And I'd seen a real nice track in the path. I didn't get into the stand until 3:30. I wasn't in the stand long when I saw a doe coming in. And right on her heels was a 8 trotting in. He wasn't a monster, but when he got within range I drew back. I hit him a little high, but felt I'd made a good hit. It was getting dark so I got right down and got on his track. There were little bubbles in the blood. I think I caught a lung. He didn't run 150 yards. Then I went home and got Bonnie (the butterfly tracker). I put her on the track and she went right to the deer. I just got it cleaned up and am heading over to the Rowe farm.

Congratulations to Savage on a good clean kill and to Bonnie for finding it with no butterfly interference. One week left with the bow. Can I get one in? Stay tuned.   


Friday, November 13, 2009


  This is Savage's pick for hottest day. Let's recap.

   There's been a lull. Since last Saturday the action has been limited. There's been good buck sightings in Orange County. Bird saw a nice 6 in Pine Bush and Vic and Georgie saw a massive 4 with brow tines on Jerry's dam. They have his and her binocs. They peeped him from the kitchen. Vic would've had a shot from his stand. But up here on the mountain, the action has been less. I'm still seeing coyotes down at GNJohn's and minor buck action. So I've been concentrating more on the stand behind Elijah's.
  On Saturday I saw a good buck there. So this morning I was psyched to get in the tree. I got to it before dawn, but also spooked a deer right under it. I couldn't tell buck or doe. After about an hour a doe came off the hill, full tilt. Later I saw a four circling closer to the road. The good buck never showed. About 9am I went down to the river and called for coyotes with the rabbit screamer and quiver critter. No luck.
   About 2pm I got back in the Elijah stand. Nothing happened until 4pm. A four or six ran a doe through the golden rod about 200 yards in front of me. A half hour later a definite six chased a big doe through the same field, 50 yards closer. And that was it. I came home and took the report from Savage Lynch.
THE SAVAGE LYNCH DEER REPORT: I worked late at Bruce's and didn't get into the tree  until 3:30. I saw some does and that four and he made me. But Unki Harold has a good one. He was driving up past the Thompsonville Post Office and he saw a young woodchuck in the middle of the road so he slowed down. Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye. This dark thing attacked the woodchuck, turning it over and grabbing it by the throat. In seconds it had almost killed it. UH stopped his truck and spooked it off. It was a mink. When Harold came back, the chuck was nothing but a pool of blood. 

Monday, November 9, 2009


Question: Does 18 years in AA allow you to claim lifetime membership? I pose this querie because last night in the kitchen surrounded by Shewho, GNJohn, Unki Harold, nephew Esak and his girlfriend Kat and two dogs, I was telling a story about being Santa Claus at an AA party, when Savage Lynch stepped forward, drink in hand, and exclaimed, "I'm AA. 18 years sober." I gently informed SL that it's once an alky always an alky, not once AA always AA. He didn't seem to buy this logic, pouring himself another sake, he stirred the ice cubes with his pinky and smiled. "One day at a time."
   The occasion for this drunken debate was the unexpected travel stop of Esak , Kat and dog Banjo on their way to New Mexico to work the winter on the slopes. Shewho and Savage made a feast of sausage and venison. Plenty of beer, whiskey and sake were also consumed. Esak always brings the party, so after dinner we pulled out the guitars, eye medicine, harmonicas, tambourine and drum. Esak and I were on the gits and Savage reminded me that as  youths we were both tested by Johnson and O'connor human engineering Labs and they had informed him he had perfect rhythm. "You should be a drummer." they said. Last night his dream came true.
    The first couple of songs were dead on. Savage's deft fingers hit the skins with restraint. He kept a good beat and everyone was impressed. But as the evening progressed the drum got louder and the beat took a hike. Maybe it was that old 12 step button getting in the way. In any case in Savage's mind Tito Puente had nothing on him. Rifts, fills and flurrys came out of nowhere. There was no reeling him in. Unki Harold grabbed the truck keys and tried to get The Lynch Pin out the door, to no avail. "Just one more song." he pleaded. My face aches from laughing so much.

Now for Savage Lynch's DEER REPORT: I was up in that tree across the road when my cell phone rang. It was Unki Harold. Remember that time I shot that big buck when H was on the phone....ugh. My ass hurts. Fuck, what is that ringing in my ears? What are you looking at? You know some people.....What was I saying? You remind me of (mumble, mumble) notice how those little hairs on your......nevermind.  

Friday, November 6, 2009



Thursday, November 5, 2009


   No, it's not the pet name for Shewho's vibrator. The QC is a cute, furry rabbit sock puppet draped over a battery operated twitchy wire. It's designed to replicate a bunny in the last throes of life. In reality it looks more like a muppet on a stick, turning slowly in the microwave. In any case it's part of my arsenal when I go after coyotes. Which is just what I spent yesterday afternoon doing. 
   I decided before the rut totally heated up, I would give the Q critter a try in coaxing in one or two of the dogs prowling Gilkey's farm. I took the 12 ga., figuring if a turkey came in I could take a shot. This was my first mistake. But lets not get ahead of ourselves. First I went to the laundermat and washed all my gear. Coyotes are near the top of the food chain and have all the senses working overtime. Deer are bedded down during the midday hours, so I had time to hunt the hunters. 
   I set the QC out at noon, near Savage Lynch's old hedge row high stand, near the river, and placed a speaker behind the decoy. I had a remote that could switch from dying rabbit screams, to howls, to pup in distress calls. I've shot coyotes before, but always while hunting something else- usually turkey. A turkey call is like ringing the dinner bell. This time I stuck with the screams of the cottontail. I'd been calling less than five minutes when I saw the outline of the light colored coyote etched against the wood line 300 yards away. We were in business. The 12 ga. was already on my knee. Now all i had to do was get him to cross the field within 40 yards of my gun barrel. Easier said than done.
   This was the mistake I mentioned earlier. If I had just brought the .243 I could have shot him within 150 yards. He disappeared in the stream bed, periodically popping up, as he circled down wind. Mistake #2- I didn't have a good view of the hedgerow. As he circled I lost sight of him. More than likely he came straight up the hedgerow and either smelled or made me. Either way, I never saw him again. I'll try again today. I know it's risky. I could see that 8 pointer with my dick and a rifle in my hand. But those dogs have the deer spooked. Gotta give it one more try. Then back to the bow.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009




   The past couple of nights I've been having dinner with Savage Lynch and Unki Harold over at Paradise Pond. Their wive's have left them to their own devices for a couple of weeks, so they have extended the invite to me to revel with them in their "Hairy Manhood". Each night we have a group hug, pray to be more in tune with our feelings, pour ourselve's  some stiff drinks and form a drum circle. Unki Harold tried to make the bathroom into a sweat lodge but the place filled up with smoke. Mrs. Unki Harold is not going to be pleased. I told him building a fire in a plastic tub would not work. 
   I've known these men since childhood. And now since we are of a "certain age" our conversation can often drift towards our various aches and pains. To be honest, the three of us are in pretty good shape. Sure Savage and I both have glaucoma and Unki H. has some injuries from his many years as a prison guard in the crazy house, but all in all we don't have much to bitch about. One of my complaints is having a butt so skinny that hours on end in a tree stand causes it to flatten out like a leaky tire burning rubber. And for some unknown reason my right leg has gone into a crack of dawn spasm that you can set your watch by. This should work to my favor, rousting me from my golden slumbers, and getting me into a tree before dawn. But, in fact, I fight it and burrow deeper into the covers. 
  So, this morning I sit in my ratty robe blogging, instead of deer hunting. But yesterday i did get up. I had a four pointer under my stand and a big doe out in the field. Eventually he ran off the doe in a desperate attempt to get a little. She wasn't having it. It would be like a pimply faced teenager humping  Heidi Klum's long leg. "Leave the runway!" This little exchange told me that the rut is starting to heat up.

Now Savage Lynch's DEER REPORT: I saw a big racked buck crossing the road down by the Thompsonville post office at 10 am and another golf buddy saw a monster on Goodwill rd. in Montgomery, heading for the high School.  Otherwise it's been quiet. Go Yankees! 

Sunday, November 1, 2009


  But first, another Savage Lynch DEER REPORT: The pro at Locmore has been hunting across the road from the links and he's been seeing two good bucks. The other day he came to work and out behind a shed he saw the lesser of the bucks. It looked like his head was sticking out of the ground. When he looked closer he saw the buck had fallen in the septic tank. He called some other workers, lassoed the deer and drug it out of the tank. The deer took off with the rope still attached.
   Then I heard about a friend of the pro at Terry Brea. This guy was up in his stand when he saw a mother and two bear cubs coming through the woods. About 15 minutes later a big boar followed right on their trail. He just watched as the boar disappeared. Then he heard this incredible racket. The mother was protecting her cubs from the big male. Before he knew it the mother and cubs had returned and were milling about below his tree. It was getting dark and he wanted to get down. So he yelled in order to spook the bears away. Big mistake. Before he could raise his bow the mother was up the tree in full attack mode. He kicked and beat the bear off with his bow. He thought he was a goner. Eventually she backed off. The very next day he arrowed a 450 lb. male in a different spot. 

Savage's golfing buddies are having quite a year. Last night I had my friends Horst and supermodel Mariana Louise over for a Halloween/birthday turkey dinner. Today is ML's birthday. I told them I'd seen 3 spikes and a mink that afternoon. "A mink? What's a mink?" ML asked. I imagined she envisioned three big nails and a mink coat hanging from a tree branch. I gently explained that mink coats do not come fully formed from Blackgamma, but are actually made from sleek little critters the size of a weasel. As the smoke poured from her cute little ears I could tell she didn't want to ask what a weasel or a spike was. Happy birthday darlin'. 

Remember to turn back your clocks. The rut's coming.