March Madness in the Great Outdoors

I didn't really feel like going scouting today. In fact, I was set to take a bath, grab some dinner and retire for the evening. But, my girlfriend had other notions: "Get out, it is still light outside!" So, I (slightly begrudgingly) got myself together and strapped on the wheelgun for a 2 hr. trip. What a trip did it prove to be! Late March means two things to me: turkey hunting and mushrooms. I've been prepping for the April turkey season for a while by sorting my kit, practicing calls, and patterning my shotgun. Mushrooms aren't even an option now. It literally snowed here yesterday. Needless to say, my main interest was going to be looking for turkey sign.

Twenty minutes later I'm pulling into public land and I can't help but think that this was a good decision. The fields of milo stubble with a lake in the background was just what I needed to end the workday. I am less than twenty yards down the agricultural road when I see a wild turkey wing feather. Things are looking up. As I am examining the feather I suddenly hear the frantic scattering of leaves and the nervous chirps of bobwhite quail. I've lived in Kansas for two years and I have seen exactly one bobwhite prior to this. This covey knows something is up and is quickly making it's way through the dense underbrush on the right hand side of the road. Nonetheless, I count at least five birds and by the ruckus I judge there to be at least ten in the covey. Maybe I will just have place to bird hunt next year.

Now I am proceeding slowly down the road, measuring each step and watching the inevitable stragglers from the covey scurry away. Two more steps and I hear rustling but don't see anything. I wait and once again I am tickled by what I see. A big cottontail has heard the quail and makes a couple quick hops into an opening about twelve yards away. Before I know it I've got my revolver out of my holster and have the tritium front sight trained on the brown blob that is so effortless blending into the leaf litter. Boom! I see a flash of white fur and I know that I have made a good shot. As it turns out, the ball went right through the shoulder---not bad for basic sights on a small target.



At this point, I quickly skin and dress the rabbit. The temperate is hovering around 40 degrees and I don't want the meat to ruin (which is very possible if you don't work quickly on rabbits). After a short cleaning session I am ambling down the trail once more--happy as a lark. Another forty yards and I have quite a pep in my step. I take a quick respite where the field edge meets another finger of timber when I see something pushing through the tall grass on the trail-side. A hen turkey bounds twice, hits the packed dirt, and then takes awkward flight towards the lake. The whole time I am fumbling with my camera trying to get a picture, but only manage to capture the trail ahead.

As the sun begins to set I circumscribe the field edge and watch as two does and three fawns sneak across the stubble into a wood about 250 yards away. I'm so happy that I am about to burst and in my revery I nearly go into cardiac arrest when yet another cottontail explodes from a briar-patch just a few feet away from me. Have you ever tried to draw a revolver one-handed from concealment and aim at a running rabbit while holding another skinned rabbit in your off hand? I have. I imagine it was quite a sight to see.

Extraordinary can only begin to describe the scouting trip that I had. It is amongst the best in my hunting lifetime and I saw more game today than in the past five rambles that I have went on. I'm cooking brier rabbit for dinner tonight and have quite a story to tell. No doubt I will regret saying this for a while, but I am undoubtedly thankful that I listened to my girlfriend...   :)

P.S. Since squirrel season doesn't start in Kansas until June 1st I am considering this completion of Spring Goal #4.

Update - Spring Goal No. 2 - Catch a 4 lb.+ Largemouth

Finally winter's hoary grasp is broken! The high today reached 78 degrees. I spent the day earning my bread but secretly lamenting that I was indoors. While running errands during the workday I noted that the spring fires had started billowing their charcoal plumes on the horizon and just this morning the songbirds were waxing poetic in a way that I swear I hadn't heard in ages. Naturally, I buzzed out of work after my due diligence and proceeded immediately to buy my fishing license and pick up a copy of the 2014 regulations. Once home I Googled urban fishing locations in a desperate attempt to successfully wet a line. Somehow between bare-bones descriptions and grainy photos I found myself at a sequestered nature area in the middle of the big city. It didn't look like much but there were cars in the gravel parking lot and a big sign that denoted 15" slot limits for largemouth. Could this be a welcome omen?

In a word, no. Not even close. I started pitching a cone-eyed marabou/flashabou pattern in lime green and turquoise that was expertly tied by a friend. Despite my urge to rip a shallow-diving crankbait across the pond I let logic get the best of me and thought that I would try subtlety. I have to admit, the marabou pulsed wonderfully and the fly descended so slowly that I would have sworn that a strike was only casts away. I was utterly baffled after pitching it into every piece of cover I could find. Then I thought, "You fool, you need more reach!" Next I grab a heavy chartreuse curly-tailed jig and lob it gleefully to the distant shore. It sank far too quickly and I was forced to buzz it at inappropriate speed across the raccoon-tails. No such luck. Next I succumb to the shallow-diving crankbait, noting that the one other serious fisherman at the location had actually managed to hang a fish on a similar lure. I  spend the next 30 minutes probing and poking around every accessible nook and cranny. Nada.

Angry, I decide that I will now pull out all of the stops. I reach for the showstopper. New in the package--found inexplicably on the clearance rack of the local sporting goods store--the ultimate predatory fish slayer had recently come into my possession. Giant, gleaming, like a hammered copper relic of some druidic chieftain this lure was nothing short of enchanted. It even had the color-scheme of some wildling  palette---all black and red and yellow. Bold colors. Colors that one might find in natural plant dyes or warpaint. Can a simple amalgam of wire, beads, bucktail, and shining blades be sexy? Yes, this was practically a fertility symbol---even complete with facsimile fish roe. It was the ne plus ultra of predatory baits.


11/16 oz. Mepps Double Blade Agila (LINK)
#5 Copper Blades
Black Dress

As soon as my retrieve began I knew that I what was in store for me: ichthyological enlightenment. My Mitchell rod and Stren line could barely constrain the primal THUM THUM THUM that the hypnotizing copper blades were beating out. THUM THUM THUM. A state record largemouth. THUM THUM THUM. A Bass Pro Shops sponsorship. THUM THUM THUM. A new Nitro boat. THUM THUM THUM. Moby Dick in inland waters. THUM THUM THUM! Yet, before I knew it I had the lure in hand. It was no less magical, but I had no more fish than when I had started. I picked it up and looked at it disbelief, as if to say, "Surely you jest?" I cast to a promising weed-bed edge. THUM THUM THUM. No takers.

I turn from my early spring view. Something has to be wrong. Sadly, I must conclude that all the fish in Kansas are dead. They've all froze to death and their is nothing we can do about it. I guess I'll have to take up golf (and self-loathing) now. All my fishy dreams are dead (or the water temperature is still a little too low).

2013-2014 Hunting Season Wrap-Up and Spring Goals

My goodness it has been a long time since I have updated my blog! I did have a successful deer season (pics below) but didn't get a chance to harvest a mule deer. The land access portion was just too much to overcome. Nonetheless, it was one of the best seasons in recent history. In total I took three deer: a Kansas doe, an Oklahoma 7 pt. and another Oklahoma doe. I almost forgot--I also was able to take my first bobcat!


Kansas doe taken in the early antlerless season




Oklahoma 7 pt. (3x4) buck



Oklahoma doe



Oklahoma Bobcat

Sad to say, I've already almost eaten/given away most of the meat. I think I have three packages of trim left--that is all! I have really, really enjoyed cooking this year. Notably, Hank Shaw's Hunter-Angler-Gardener-Cook Blog and The L.L. Bean Game & Fish Cookbook (Angus Cameron and Judith Jones) have really helped me step up my game in the kitchen.

Exhibit A:


Venison backstrap seared in cast iron with Cumberland sauce




Canadian Goose breast seared in cast iron with Cumberland sauce


Venison shoulder, spice-rubbed and mesquite-smoked




Venison roast, braised in stock and port

Needless to say, I haven't been starving. However, as spring draws near on the horizon I am a little sad to see the bounty of fall lapse so quickly. We all know that spring is the season on growth and opportunity, but that concept is different for a hunter. Though I enjoy fishing, foraging, and gardening more than most, these opportunities are bittersweet. Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to spring. Winter in northern Kansas has been exceptionally harsh this year. I've experienced my personal lowest temperature (-15 F), largest ice accumulation (1"+),  and largest amount of snow (13") this year. Good gracious! Once again, the snow is supposed to come again today. So, I'm inside doing my mindless trivialities (organizing tackle boxes, cleaning guns, etc) and dreaming of the days afield that are to come.

One of my accomplishments today is to come up with a series of goals for this spring. Unlike goals most people set (lose weight, quit smoking, save money, etc) I am actually looking forward to accomplishing these:

1. Catch a walleye, any walleye.

2. Catch a largemouth over 4 lbs (it has been a long drought).

3. Harvest a turkey (it has been a long drought).

4. Take a squirrel with my revolver.

5. Make Brunswick Stew with squirrel.

6. Find three new edible plants within 40 miles of my residence.

7. Find a secret spot where morel mushrooms grow.

8. Get a truly awesome photo on my trail camera.

9.Film something truly awesome on the Go-Pro.

10. Hike Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve.

As I accomplish (or fail to accomplish) each of these goals I'll update this blog to give everyone the back-story. Watch this space!