Archive for Month: November 2016

The Hunter, Blaze Orange? It’s The Golden Rules That Matter

With the news of a female hunter in Caledonia, NY succumbing to a fatal gunshot wound to the abdomen during a deer drive yesterday afternoon, it is cause for a visceral reaction. Her name has not been released, and with due respect, not disclosed. Sorry if I appear to be a chauvinist. My reaction to this event is more pronounced, more upset, a bit sadder, and I’ll not apologize to feminists over this one. My wife hunts, at the behest of any and all the encouragement I can muster. Years of volunteering at Women In The Outdoors events has me inclined to support women participating in our favorite pastime. Yet, as much as I appreciate equal treatment of all, my sense of chivalry is disrupted by this very tragic event…  Very few details have been made public as I write this, and my reaction is from what I know to be in nearly all cases to be preventable. I’ll not claim any wrong doing by anyone as the facts are not in yet.

This is the third such incident this fall season. Before I dive into an experience I had many years ago, let me first express my sincere condolences to the families in these tragic events. The loss of life, the possibilities of what if, the ripples in time from what they may have accomplished are our loss and more so of their families and loved ones. There is no upside for the persons who made the shots in these tragic occurrences. Their lives, their families will be changed in so many but different ways. With or without civil or legal repercussions, their lives will not be the same.

Our sport, our activity, is unique in that despite the common thought that it is a very dangerous, deadly pastime, it is polar opposite from the truth.  The use of firearms understandably lends itself to that image as it is portrayed as such in movies and television. As reported by the NSSF in their 2015 report, the injury rate versus participation is 0.05%. This includes tree stand failures, falls, etc. All Non-Intentional Firearm Fatalities reported in 2013 are less than a fifth of that number. With over 17 million participants it is remarkably safe. To think you would be 30 times more likely to be injured while cheerleading would not be my first guess. No, I won’t be sporting pom-poms anytime soon.

In regards to those that have been fatally shot while afield, these numbers are meaningless. They offer no comfort to the families, to those involved in these incidents. The numbers are a yardstick to show progress, compare apples to apples, to affect rules, and policies.

In our sport, our ideal number is 0% fatalities, 0% injuries. We think one is one too many. You cannot apply this very well to automobiles, or medical practices. Actuary tables are applied to most activities, yet we preach in many ways, in many forms that 0% is the expected norm.

To illustrate where I am taking this, I’ll recount a story of my first deer going all the way back to 1988…

I was now into my fourth fall season of chasing whitetails with a bow, and my first full firearms season with my own shotgun. I had been a few times with a borrowed gun before that. Up to this point, I had not successfully filled a deer tag. A whitetail virgin if you will. Opening day I was in a preselected spot in a piece of open woods up on state land above the Deruyter Reservoir, not far from where I live now. I was with a crew of four other hunters. We would sit until late morning then do slow walks towards each other midday. We all sported blaze orange hats and vests or full jackets/coveralls. We meant to be seen.

I had previously built a small makeshift blind out of dead tree limbs that would conceal the lower half of my body while sitting. It wasn’t much, but I liked the spot, and deer crossed out in front and along both sides of my blind. Using a smooth bore barrel and a 1-4X scope limited my shots out to 100-120 yards if on a rest.  I was relieved to find it unoccupied as I walked in. The morning was full of action including hunters walking about at 7AM as they couldn’t sit for more than a half hour. It wasn’t that long of a sit when deer started moving. I had a big doe pass out in front, well past my ability to accurately hit where I would aim.  Just the same I was thrilled to see deer moving. Several more would come across from my right side and continue on, without offering a shot within my reasonable distance. Mid-morning I noticed movement to my hard left. Eighty yards out to my left. There was a thicket that ran down along to my left that was 150 yards long and finished out down range out in front.

With deer moving about, it was a promising idea that I would fill my first deer tag. I began to see patches of tan/brown moving along the thicket, then an occasional flash of black. Adrenaline was flowing. My gun was up and ready, and I knew that I would get my chance as the deer would eventually pass one of the two openings in thicket/hedgerow. The movement was slow and deliberate. Even with my scope, I could not make out a head, antlers, or a shoulder crease that I would want for an aiming point. Being that I had tags for either sex, I was giving thought to preferred choice of cuts at the butcher.

As the patches of brown neared the first opening, I was more than excited, the moment of truth was just seconds away….

Into the opening, a hunter appeared. After surveying the open woods I was watching, he looked my way. I had lowered my shotgun by the time he looked back. Rattled to my core, I was shaking. I had pointed my shotgun at something I would never intend to shoot, worse yet, another hunter.  Unlike my apparel of blaze orange, the unknowingly lucky hunter sported well-used carhart overalls with a matching jacket and a black felt hat. His gun was also painted black which is what I saw in the underbrush of the thicket. I managed not to throw up, but in hindsight, it might have settled my stomach sooner. He walked off, without any acknowledgment, none the wiser. It would be the last day I ever hunted from that spot. Some time later I did fill a doe tag on a nice sized doe that crossed out in front of me and within range. Later in the day as I recall it.

Even after so many years, it upsets me to think how bad it could have all turned out, and how much both of our lives would have changed because if it.

Like all hunters in New York State, I attended hunter safety class and passed the written test given at the conclusion of training.  I paid attention, for my sake, the sake of the foolish hunter I described, and for your sake. To those unfamiliar to firearm safety training, firearm golden rules, I’ll recall a few for your wellbeing.

  • Assume every gun is loaded
  • Control the muzzle. Point your gun in a safe direction
  • Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot
  • Identify fully, be sure of your target, foreground. and beyond
  • Don’t rely on your gun’s safety button/lever for safe handling.
  • Never shoot at sound or movement without fully identifying the target

These short and very simple rules can keep you safe from tragic events when everyone practices safe, ethical hunting. As a shooter, blaze orange is not a fix all or prevent all as shown in my example. although I was clearly lit up like a tree, it did not deter my hunter friend from sneaking about in the very colors of our quary. Had he sported blaze orange I am absolutely certain I would not have pointed my shotgun in his direction. If he had worn a deer costume, as anti-hunters have been known to do, maybe it would turn out badly. My adherence to the basic safety rules kept me from a very tragic possibility. This was over stressed by the instructors at my class, and I owe them much for engraining that into my training. Despite my ill-advised hunting friend engaged in suicide by deer hunter, I owed him, any other hunter, and any deer I chose to shoot to clearly identify my target, and a proper aiming point. It is impossible to ensure a clean efficient kill without doing so.

As a hunter, blaze orange does not guarantee that you will be seen. As odd as that seems, it takes just a little bit of cover, terrain, alignment of trees to interfere with being seen.  In general, blaze orange does the job of making you stand out as much as possible. As ugly or unattractive I might be, I have yet to look remotely like a gobbler or a whitetail at any distance. You as a hunter owe me and my fellow hunters the respect of identifying your target, a safe sight picture, no exceptions.

On deer drives, if it is hurried, or the shooter is snap shooting, it may not give enough time to acquire the entire scene, and the target, or more importantly another member of the drive in the wrong position at the wrong time, Taking a little longer to take it all in may cost you a deer downed from time to time, but you’ll be safer for doing so. Deer drives I have been on are slow, methodical, where the pushers tend to get the shot opportunity, and the watchers are in very open areas in which to see what is coming and more importantly, who is not in the line of fire. My statements are not absolute and it is only your dedication to the basic safety rules that ensure we all go home safely from a great day afield.

As one who believes that nearly all of these tragedies are preventable by simply following safe practices, my words are not in judgment of those that have experienced these unfortunate circumstances. The goal is always 0% injury, 0% fatality. To prevent or contribute to this not happening again is worthy of being written. Again, to those that suffer the loss of these recent events, and those that suffer the consequences, the aftermath, you have my sincere condolences and wishes to learn and heal from it.

-MJ

© 2016 Joyner Outdoor Media

For The Love Of The Hunt

As an exercise of thinking out loud, to convey a collection of thoughts, please take my observations as a very personal perspective of my passions that I care so deeply about and in some ways define us and our roles in the natural world. It is not all inclusive nor singularly about me, as from many of your expressed views, you and I share a deep bond in our love of our great forests, and the game we pursue, even those we do not.

Like our political division we are in one way or another sucked into the “mean season.” In my humble opinion it has splashed over into other aspects of our lives. In particular the fraternity of hunting is of my concern. The social media hunting pages show this continuance of mean season in startlingly bold ways. Whether it be a trophy buck, a small buck or doe to fill the freezer, young turkey, old boss gobbler, how it was taken, where, by a woman, first time hunter, or a young hunter, the comments made fall very short of congratulations, or any sense of civility. Very divisive, disparaging remarks by hordes of “master hunters” or more correctly, keyboard warriors in full internet bully mode. Post after post of trashing successful hunters, trespassing, stolen stands/equipment, hunter harassment, lack of courtesy, embolden displays of disregard for the quarry, game laws, and land owners. Are we as part of the hunting fraternity willing to idly watch our ranks stoop to such depths or poor behavior, especially towards each other?

Personally I think we could do much better than what I currently observe in the public purview. I’ll stick my neck out in that it is doubtful this is the impression we wish to convey to non-hunters as to our love of our favored passion. How are we to be taken seriously when we berate each other in such fashion?

Like each of you, I have methods, choice of implements, and preferred strategies that I employ while chasing deer or turkey, other quarry. There are just as many other choices I may not be so keen on. Where it be illegal or unethical, I may speak out. Otherwise, why not enjoy the success of other hunters? Do our ego’s require that only ourselves have our hands around the biggest set of antlers or spurs?  Like many of you, I have experienced, and admired the lengthy pursuit of an exceptional quarry spanning an entire season or in some cases many seasons. Not all of these epic adventures end with a happy hunter posing for a hero photo. The memories I’ll submit are for the love of the hunt. Yet after stating this, do we not also enjoy the brief alignment of the stars and fate for a chance encounter that comes and goes in a brief instant? Even as a professed admirer of “preparedness meets circumstance,” you can talk me into buying a 100lb bag of dumb luck all day long. Does it make it a lesser experience, or any less of a hunter for experiencing the hunt in this way? Of course not. Each of us experience the hunt in just as many different ways, and even more over time.

Admittedly I have some advantage of perspective with 32 seasons worth of memories to reflect on, to learn from. Fair to say I am in the phase of being a hunter that savors the hunt every bit or more than that actual taking of game, and find every bit of enjoyment and satisfaction in learning the experiences and successes of other fellow hunters. This is the lens I see through.

It would be a shortcoming to make these points or the case without some resolve to improve upon it, to make it a perceivable amount better. I’ll continue to admire, like and make positive comment of the successful hunts of my hunting brothers and sisters. I’ll continue to be fond of first time hunter success and especially young hunters. I can assure each of you, should we meet on a ridge, in the middle of a deer drive, I’ll not ask for your voter ID card, but I’ll ask how your season is going and offer congrats or encouragement. At the butcher shop or the taxidermist I’ll be quick to congratulate and admire a good day afield. Lastly in the public forums, I’ll be just as quick to enjoy your successes as my love of the hunt extends to the hope that you enjoy and love the hunt as I do.

-MJ

 

© 2016 Joyner Outdoor Media

A Whitetail Season Opening Day- Final Season… Almost

Opening weekend of the Southern Tier whitetail firearms season is now in the books. Judging from social media posts, there are a lot of happy hunters out there. I’d say the taxidermy business might have a good year also. It is a bit odd for an opener that has gone from t-shirt weather to near blizzard conditions on Sunday late morning.

I was able to hunt the morning and late afternoon and a few hours Sunday morning, as has been the norm in recent years, work limits my other otherwise die hard desire to go at it from before sun rise to after sunset. In early ahead of the crowd, Out late as to not bump any deer on the way out. Still I am thankful for work and being gainfully employed.

Stan Sawicki, our good friend, scored early in the first hour with a nice 8 point buck on the ‘J’ Ranch. My wife saw deer throughout the morning. I would eventually lay eyes on a monster buck at 10 am, which provides a very different story as follows…

Going on towards 10 AM, I had yet to see a deer from a favorite stand. Over the years it has been deemed a meat stand as it covers several well used deer paths with nearby scrapes and rubs, and well known escape routes when bumped by other hunters on adjoining properties. This year not so much. It was getting warm out, time to retrieve Stan’s buck, and get him out of the woods to be taken care of. I got down, and slow hunted my way over to and down a ravine to the main creek on our property. Our ATV was parked above the creek on the other side. Having bulldozed a path some years ago, it makes for a convenient spot to park it. Where we cross the creek has several smaller ravines and feeder creeks meeting up together there. Deer cross the same spot for much of the same reasons.

As I neared the bottom, I got a phone call that a buck was just shot nearby. Having heard the shot, I thought Stan or Lee may have shot.  While on the phone I thought I had heard something, only to look up to see a monster buck coming up over the knoll not 15 yards away and coming straight at me. I had no where to go, as he would pile drive me 20 yards further to the creek just below me. Given that his rack was 5-6″ out past each ear, with long dog catchers (brow tines) and impressively long G2-G3 tines,  I would not survive the imminent impaling. For an immeasurably short moment in time, It would be my final moments. The pure power of such a large buck was breathtaking at the same time.

I dropped the phone, and awkwardly went to retreive my 30-06 from my shoulder. The buck then threw out his front legs in an effort to stop as he didn’t like this big ugly hunter in his path, and maybe just as startled as I was. His lower jaw nearly touch the ground as he slid. He came down the knoll with so much power that his hind end came around the side and up over, basically flipping over, swapping ends for a lack of a more precise description. He slammed down in front of me at less than 5 paces. Aside from being a bit more than thankful for not being driven to the creek and ventilated in 5 or 6 places, this bizarre and violent circumstance was his finally moment before piling up… not.

As quickly as he went down, he was back on his feet, motoring back up the hill. Having finally got the gun up I found his leading edge of his chest, and shot. Never touched him, but I can center punch a sapling like nobody’s business. I could not get back on him again as he traveled up and over. I found the blood trail coming down the hill, where he went down, and back up. Mostly a few drops here and there. After meeting up with the hunter (shall remain nameless) that put this all into motion, we tracked the deer for several hours, out into a 100 acre crop field and down to the river. Finally determined it to be a flesh wound. Upsetting to wound and lose a deer, but merely disrupted him from chasing does. Hope to see him again in more ballistic friendly circumstances.

Lee and I went back out later that afternoon before the storm came in. We both passed on a fork horn buck that went by both of us a half hour before legal sunset. Uneventful sit by any comparisons of the day. It is about as excited, elated as I might possible get while totally terrified, and fearing my last moments given a fateful brief moment in time. I am humbled and thankful that this was not my last day of deer hunting, and your learning of this from a memorial page. In all my 32 years of hunting whitetails this was a first. I have heard stories from others of rutting bucks aggressively coming at them, either on purpose or incidentally while giving chase on a hot doe. I know a neighbor that dropped an aggressive buck just mere feet in front of him, at closer range than my encounter. That buck did not get back up…

Good luck to all of you for the remaining days of the season and that your whitetail close encounters be less precarious than what you have read here of mine.

-MJ

 

© 2016 Joyner Outdoor Media