“Wide Guy”

The 2012 bow season brought with it many anticipations and hopes. During the off season leading up to the 2012 bow season I was able to spend more hours in the woods that I would be hunting through spring turkey outings, summer scouting, and hanging a few new stands with my brother, Nicholas, and good friend, Steve. We had several nice bucks on film with the season approaching and had stands available to hunt nearly every different wind on travel corridors. The opening day of the season brought success to Steve as he arrowed a nice eight point as he traveled under his stand only a couple of hours into the season. Warm temps followed the next couple of weeks and although Nick and I both had several encounters nothing was put on the meat pole. The last night of September brought with it a perfectly still evening and I decided to hunt a stand near the house. This particular stand we had hung early in September and I had scouted extensively with plenty of deer sightings and a few bucks that we had labeled as “shooters” would show up fairly regularly. This particular evening two small forkie bucks browsed in front of my stand and chased one another around. I watched these two young bucks for nearly forty minutes when I glanced to the north where I spotted the buck that I immediately identified as the “Wide Guy.” –This particular buck I had seen a few different times on camera over the past couple of years, but hadn’t seen him ever in person, but there was no doubt in my mind which deer it was as his very wide spread easily gave him away. I had estimated him to be 6.5 or 7.5 years old based on photographs and always said that I would shoot him if I ever had the chance even though he wasn’t necessarily the highest “scoring” buck in the woods.

As Wide Guy approached he seemed to hang up right at 70 yards or so. There was absolutely no wind, but this buck seemed to be relying on a sixth sense that only older bucks have, which seemed to be telling him that something just wasn’t right. After a couple of minutes the curiosity of this buck appeared to overtake his sixth sense as the two forkies chasing one another around brought him towards me. As he approached I readied and drew my bow as he stepped into an opening slightly quartering away at 22 yards. I released the arrow and I watched its flight and it connected right through the lungs where I settled my pin. Wide Guy took off in full force and within a few seconds he was gone and I didn’t hear anything. I waited about 45 minutes, got down, found my arrow coated with good blood, and marked blood that appeared to be coming out of both sides within 50 yards of where I had shot the buck. I decided to head back to the house, wait a couple of hours, and hit the track with Nick and Steve. We also called Mike Hack, who had indicated to me that he would like to get his “blood tracking dog,” Paul, in on a track. Although I didn’t think the buck had made it far I thought it’d be a good training exercise if nothing else for Paul and elected to get Mike and Paul in on the track as well.

Two hours after I’d shot the buck the four of us (and Paul) hit the track. I showed Mike and Paul the blood I marked and the two of them took off down the trail immediately. Only thirty yards into the track Mike and Paul continued down the deer trail that Wide Guy was on even though the blood trail veered off distinctly to the left. The two of them finally came back after heading the wrong way for over a hundred yards and Mike asked where last blood was. I showed him and any confidence I had in Paul was already out the window. Additionally, I thought to myself, “Who names a blood tracking dog “Paul” anyways?” After staying on the blood trail for about 75-100 yards the blood absolutely stopped. We spent the next couple of hours gridding the area and searching the thickets and covered ever trail to no avail. We found absolutely no further sign of Wide Guy and gave up for the evening. Nick asked Mike what his thoughts were regarding the blood trail and Mike simply responded, “I am not God.” -This was apparent, and also apparent was the fact that Paul was not God, Doggie-God, or even as much as an ok blood tracking dog. Needless to say, it was a long night for me as my mind flashbacked to the hit and I was dumfounded with what went wrong and a mix of anger and sadness climbed through me for the night. Andrea tried to ease my mind by making a few jokes about the situation, but I was still sick. I thought about the plan I would take for first light the next morning. As the sun came up the following morning I found myself back at last blood and once again surveyed the area and re-walked the area looking for any sign of Wide Guy. Once again, I found myself in the same situation as the previous evening as no sign showed up. I walked a deer trail that led to a walking path that navigated my property. I decided to walk this path in its entirety in hope that I would cross paths with the Wide Guy or see signs of him. This proved to be wishful thinking as nothing showed up once again. From this point I decided that going back to the last blood was now futile and I made the decision to walk the stream bed that goes along the north end of my property as I knew from past history and instincts that it just seemed to make sense. After walking the stream bed and criss-crossing the stream several times and searching through deadfalls and areas that felt like possible bedding locations I spotted a set of big deer tracks paralleling the stream along the sand edge for about ten yards. At this point I felt like a hand was on my shoulder guiding me and although I didn’t see any signs of blood I just seemed to know or believe that this was Wide Guy’s tracks and went into a thicket off of the north side of the stream that just felt like an area where he was. Only thirty or forty yards into this thicket I spotted a tip of an antler sticking up from the weeds and I knew exactly what it was. I thanked God immediately and made my way to the buck. I was by myself, but felt like my father-in-law, John, and God were both walking with me to the Wide Guy. I looked the buck’s bed over and there was very little blood in it. I also backtracked his trail to the stream and found nothing. Upon field dressing the deer I determined that he was hit square through his right lung and liver. His chest cavity was filled with blood, but bled very little. Interestingly enough, Wide Guy also had an abnormally large heart. I pulled Wide Guy out of the thicket, across the stream bed, up the ridge and back to a gate on my property. Although this was tough work it sure didn’t seem like it. I was so happy and thankful for the way that this had worked out. –It could have gone about a hundred other ways, all of those leaving Wide Guy in the woods, but some perseverance and some guidance from above brought this story to a much happier ending. I made a couple of phone calls on my way out of the woods with Wide Guy to Andrea, Nick, and Steve letting them know the great news. I also pulled myself together and chuckled as I called Mike Hack and asked him if Paul knew how to pull deer. –I couldn’t help myself!

Blaze Orange

The 2011 Wisconsin Rifle Deer Season was one that will be remembered! My brother-in-law, Drew, and I kicked off the season by opening the cabin up Thursday night with a great meal and some beverages after commemorating the loss of his father, John, who absolutely loved rifle hunting in Wisconsin. We talked about life, about traditions, and about deer after looking at our newest batch of trailcam photos. –We had been getting a host of nice bucks this year on camera, but there were two main-frame ten points with kickers off of their G2s that we both decided we had to hunt hard for. One of these bucks I got to know pretty well back in October as I bow hunted him, but he gave me the slip and turned a bit nocturnal at the particular location that I was hunting him at.

On the Saturday morning of opener there was an early shot fired at a little after 7:30 am from Drew’s direction. –I had a feeling that he had an encounter with one of the two bucks. After a few minutes a text came in from Drew that he was pretty positive that he had hit one of the bucks, but didn’t know exactly as he had took off hard after the shot was fired. Soon thereafter, another text came through that he had got him and in fact had put a perfect heart shot on him as he was piled up on thirty or forty yards from where he was shot. –Now it was my turn!

Saturday and Sunday I sat with no sightings of the other buck. I had a great opportunity at a very nice nine point three times, but had told myself that I was passing on him waiting for an opportunity at the other ten with the kicker eleventh point. I began to wonder if I had made the right choice.

Monday afternoon I found myself in a stand once again and fairly early on in the afternoon I knew I had made the right choice holding off on pulling the trigger as the buck I was hunting appeared. Unfortunately it was about 360 yards off and he did not present himself with a broadside shot. I had a good idea as to the travel path he was on and waited for him simply hoping that he wouldn’t stall up or bed down. Well, he showed up again and this time he was broadside at 260 yards and I eased a shot off from the 280 Ackley Improved and the buck crumpled to the ground right where I had shot him! Unbelievable! –It is so great when a plan actually comes together.

I know my father-in-law was smiling down on us this deer season. We look forward to continuing the tradition and will think about him every time the blaze orange comes out in November here in Wisconsin.

Doing It Our Way...

The fall of 2011 hunting season certainly has been a new adventure for me here. –I have been working on figuring out the 90 acres that I am now hunting on for the second full year. Although I think I am starting to get it all “figured out” there are still things that I am learning every time out either sitting in a stand or scouting.
Additionally, now I have two little scouting companions with a third one on the way later on this year. The times that the three of us have been able to spend on the property together have been priceless. Additionally, I try to teach them a little woodsmanship and respect for the outdoors each time we are out together. I just hope that one day they will be able to enjoy everything Mother Nature provides us with as much as I do.
Over the past weekend we enjoyed an extra long weekend with Uncle Nick and Grandma Weiland. This is a weekend that I thoroughly look forward to weeks, if not months in advance as it provides me with an opportunity to do some bow hunting with my brother during the very best time of the year and is reminiscent on the days when we were younger and enjoyed nearly every fall weekend doing the exact same stuff together on our parent’s farm back in Brainerd, Minnesota. I just hope that some day my boys will walk this path together as Nick and I have had the opportunity to do.

Mile 25 is Yours, John

The training began early for the Grandmas Marathon as I first hit Las Vegas for a half marathon on a family trip that my father-in-law, John, took us on. Here, I ran straight down “Las Vegas Strip”, a location that I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d ever run, and scored a personal record in December of 2010.

As Grandma’s Marathon drew closer and closer my father-in-law, John, continued to fight his bout with kidney cancer. He had started the decline in early May and we could all begin to see him fighting harder and harder as regular life began to get more difficult with each passing day. Anyone who knows John and has spent any time with him can tell you a couple of things about him. -First of all, he is a fighter until the end who will never give up. Next, he is a man who is all about family. As John continued his decline I decided about five weeks out that I would be running mile #25 for him as the last one (#26) is always for my wife and kids.

As the race kicked off on that chilly and damp June morning everything felt great in my body. I had a game plan coming into the race where I thought I would have a legitimate shot at hitting my mark of 3:30:00 if I stuck to it. The first few miles I really had to focus in on not moving out too fast and burning up precious fuel that I would need to carry me through those tough miles at the end of the race. I hit the groove about mile 5 and it seemed like the next twelve miles or so just cruised by and ticked off as my pace was perfect. The work began at about mile 22 as my calf muscles began to stiffen up a little, but I was still feeling very good.

Mile 23 brought pure happiness to me as my wife held a big sign up saying “Go Daddio” and was yelling at the top of her lungs. This gave me the extra boost and I knew at this point the race was mine if I could just hang tough mentally. The next mile brought us through the cobblestones of downtown Duluth where we would hang a hard left followed by a right. As I turned into mile 25 the wind blasted straight into me out of the northeast at about 15 mph. This mile was for John and he would have it absolutely no other way. –I could hear him yelling to push on in my mind and under no circumstances would I let him down. I put my head down and bulled straight into the wind. So many thoughts ran through my head that mile and my eyes welled. I managed to keep an even 8:00 pace even running straight into the wind on mile 25 that day and kicked it down a bit more for the last mile once the course turned again and the wind was at my side as the finish line approached.

As I crossed the finish line a certain euphoria lifted me and I had made my time as I officially clocked in at 3 hours and 29 minutes. Twenty-three days later, in the early hours of the morning of July 11, 2011 the wind picked up once again and a huge thunderstorm came through. This thunderstorm was John leaving us and moving on with God’s hand on his shoulder.

Thanks for the values you taught me and the memories we shared, John. Mile 25 will always be yours.

Where's the Turkey?

For those of you who grew up in the eighties like I did, you will recall the famous Wendy’s ads where the old gals had coined the “Where’s the beef?” slogan. Well, beginning early this spring and lasting (sadly) throughout there became a new spin-off of this popular slogan, which was started by my son, JD. Each and every morning after I returned from the woods empty handed JD would ask me, “Where’s the Turkey?” I would then go on to explain to him that we don’t have success every time in the woods and also continuously emphasized the fact that there were weeks left to turkey hunt. Well… Turkey season has now come to an end. The question has been raised one last final time for the turkey season of 2011 by my son. –“Where’s the turkey?” And the answer to this is that he is still in the woods!

After hours and hours spent in the woods with my bow patiently waiting, experiencing a few “close encounters” with our bearded friends, and sitting in everything from snow to thunderstorms it is official that the turkeys won the battle of 2011. It was a valiant effort, or at least I will tell myself that. Next year those turkeys just better watch it though. And, JD, we will find a better tasting turkey at Wal-Mart in the meantime.

My favorite color is camo!

Take time to teach your children about hunting. The time you share together will be of great value to you both!

Growing Up

It is so hard to believe that John Daniel is growing up so quickly. Over this past hunting season he began sharing more and more time with me in the outdoors. We enjoyed several walks in the woods together where he began learning about scouting for deer and hanging deer stands. He also helped me put up my turkey blind and certainly enjoyed the turkey decoys. Additionally, he is now making several goose, duck, and turkey noises with his mouth and shares in the excitement for the outdoors with me. This past deer season he really got pumped up when I was able to put some venison in the freezer. He has currently been busy "building a number of deer stands" around our house with blankets, chairs, and about anything else he can find. I look forward to sharing many more memories with JD and his little brother in the outdoors we love.