Camp Chores

Happy Halloween

I hunted Tuesday morning in that flat between Hickory Ridge and the creek. A small deer ducked out hurriedly when I had just finished setting up and, later, I thought I smelled one- smelled like a buck. Squirrels were busy, and their activities always entertain me.

Coyotes woke me during the night with their howling and carrying- on… it is Halloween… about midnight… I hope it was coyotes!

It feels like Autumn

I slept in Monday morning. It was cold and pretty this morning, and very pleasant to lie in a sleeping bag and sip coffee. I worked at camp chores, sweeping out mud and leaves, and weeding my little garden plot. The bugs are eating up my mustard greens. I did hunt the field this afternoon; I was forced to the far end, to take advantage of the East wind. They came out about 4 pm. The old doe had two fawns- one had spots that I could still see, but they were almost faded away. The fawns were old enough to be on their own, but I passed on the “momma- deer”. Maybe she was a bit too far, anyway; and this was near that buck’s scrape. I didn’t notice when the three deer left, but they browsed around the clearing at least two hours. After sundown, another deer slipped up on the downwind side of me and snorted; maybe the buck came to check his scrape; I never would have expected him to get into that downwind position where there was only a steep bluff. I guess he knew his business better than I.

Back home in the woods

It was late when I got back to camp on Sunday... near midnight. I woke to a beautiful Monday morning, cool, clear, still. Alexandria weather had it as thirty- seven degrees… geography determines what radio stations you listen to in the Tunica Hills. A buck worked the scrape last night, at the far end of the field. Interesting that a scrape turns up at that exact spot every year. I couldn’t make out a distinct track for size; rubbings nearby were on small saplings, but he really tore them up. It has taken most of a month, but I am finally learning to walk in the woods with these glasses. I had a little trouble with them fogging, so I guess there is a learning curve in dealing with that aspect, also. I found several fresh tracks and droppings of various size under my pecan tree. I’m glad to share the pecans; guess I should fertilize and clear around some more pecan trees.

Headed to the field again in the afternoon and was late getting there, about 4:15, or so. There was a big deer in the clearing, far off, but I think it was a doe. She was pretty, still in her red- colored summer coat. She saw me and ducked into the woods. The sun set about 5:30 and it quickly got dark in the creek- bottom. I heard, but couldn’t see a deer moving in there. When I left my stand, a deer hopped out of the field, between me and the camp; that other one had never come back out.

Nooning on Hickory Ridge

This high spot on Hickory Ridge is the nearest place to my cabin I can get a cell phone signal. The small flat area would make a good campsite for one or two tents, but I've never spent the night in this particular place. There are nice downhill views all around. I often go there to make coffee, check messages, and get a little midday rest.

Papaw’s fence

This little piece of fence brings up fond memories of my grandfather. It’s one of the few vestiges left, but I don’t treat it as a shrine. I just smile at the memories when I see it. That fence post enjoyed its first incarnation as bridge planking. It has a coating of asphalt with gravel imbedded. My grandfather worked for the highway at some point, and occasionally scavenged and recycled such cast- off materials. In those days before the “Stock Law” the whole area was open range, and livestock wandered everywhere. Folks fenced the livestock out of their fields to protect the crops they were growing. Couple of times per year the neighbors would gather with hired help, and have roundups.

A somewhat humorous side note: my grandmother went to her grave, a half- century later, still angry that her husband was required to pay for having that highway job.

More close encounters

It was uncomfortably warm and humid, so I hunted a short time, early, and went on to some chores I needed to do. I continued picking up pecans under my little tree; I’d get another handful every time I passed nearby. I get as much reward from growing things as I do from hunting and fishing. Maybe it’s all in the same primal instinct. I went back to the field in the late afternoon, to see whether that big doe might come back; she might even bring some friends along. I watched the thickets and approaches until sunset, then moved to the edge so I could watch the clearing. There was the doe, feeding in the field again. With a favorable wind, I started a stalk. Unfortunately, that field edge was a tangle of limb, leaves, and vines. It was impossible to get through that stuff quietly, and it was getting too late to go a long way around and approach from another direction. So I just moved to a vantage point at the edge and hunkered down to watch. The doe was still in the clearing and another, smaller doe had joined her. The old doe was suspicious of me; probably had heard my movements in the thick stuff. She kept feeding toward me, occasionally raising her head and swiveling those ears to check out my position. The smaller deer was coming along, too. I sat tight and she fed her way abreast of my hiding spot. It was past legal hunting time and was getting too dark for a reasonable shot, but I didn’t want to alert her by moving out. I hoped to sneak away without giving away my presence. The old doe must have seen me or some freak air current may have taken my scent to her. She snorted once and both deer made a hasty exit down the field. Hiking back to camp, I heard coyotes again; this morning there had been quite a yelping, yowling, howling chorus.

A misty, moisty morning,,,

A rainy day, it finally brightened up some in the late afternoon, but continued to be misty and windy. I went over to pick up a few more pecans and poked around the edges of the field. I found some fresh deer sign and peeked out into the opening to see a good doe feeding in the clearing. She seemed oblivious to the wind and rain. She may have seen or heard me, because she was looking my way. The wind was wrong for me to try stalking closer, so I ducked back into the bushes to sneak away without disturbing her.

A little rain, finally

There was a patter of light rain most of the night on my tin roof. It was drizzly, windy, and overcast, and not much was moving in the woods. The creek was not up; there was barely enough rain to muddy it. My cabin certainly is peaceful when the shift- change traffic is absent from the highway, the camp guests have gone home, and the prison rodeo is over for the week.

Thunder in the woods

There were squirrel hunters all around this morning, so I didn’t go in the thickets, just worked on some trail maintenance and finished sorting my gear. There appears to be a good crop of pecans under that little tree I cleaned up and fertilized in the field.

Armadillo attack

I heard him long before I saw him. It amazes me how much noise an armadillo can make. They are built like a tank and just go crashing their way through life, it seems. Their skeletal structure is heavy and well reinforced, and that tough shell provides a coat of armour. Since the sprinkle of rain yesterday, food may have become more plentiful and he was out foraging. He was plowing along, with his snout and head under the dry leaves, scouring that hillside for something to eat. Eventually, he headed my direction. I was sitting on the ground, watching the squirrels play and hoping to see a deer, and he kept coming directly toward me. It made me nervous, he was way up the hill and making a beeline straight toward me. Well, armadillos don't bite that I know of, but they do have long sharp claws mounted on powerful forelimbs. There also have been some instances of them carrying leprosy. They don't see well and don't respond to shouting, and he kept coming at me. Finally, I reached out with an arrow and tapped him, lightly and then more vigorously... didn't faze him; he just kept coming! So, just before he started rooting against my leg, I put my hand on his back and pinned him down to the ground. He didn't like that treatment very much. He squirmed and wiggled and bucked and arched his back, and when I let up, he reversed directions and hurried off to do his armadillo- things elsewhere.

Simple pleasures for simple minds: playing with caterpillars

Ah, retirement. I found a pretty caterpillar close to the cabin and took the time to look him over.

Death of an old friend

The big old beech tree where I always liked to camp has finally fallen. It was a nice, flat, shady spot, close to water and just off the trail. If it rained, the joke was on me, because all of those beech leaves held enough water, that it continued to drip for hours after the rain had ended. The tree has been dead for some time, with shelf fungi scattered around its trunk. It was damaged somehow in the last logging operations. There was a broken winch cable under the old tree, so I suspect they may have winched or tied off to it and injured the roots. It was not a good timber- quality tree, but I had a sentimental attachment. The old tree held onto life for a long time and now it “lies in state” for passers- by on the trail to view.

Burrowing nymph

I often see these little trails on the creek banks and marvel that something is crawling around in that sand and silt, and making a living at it. One time, I had to dig one out, to see what kind of critter was responsible. I assumed it was a bug and, sure enough, it was an ugly, creepy- looking larva. I guessed it was a dragonfly nymph of some sort.

Night music

It was a week of night sounds in the woods. One night I was even serenaded by a bunch of coyotes. There were owls every night, and a variety of them, too. One night I listened to a screech owl… I particularly like those guys, diminutive in size and not very loud. On the other extreme, the great horned owls were hooting their deep-pitched query, “who, who- who- who. Everyone’s favorite, the barred owl, was pitching in his “who cooks for you”. There was another one, too. I’ve heard him before, but can’t put a name to him… maybe I need to google for an identification.

Pottery shard

I occasionally find fragments of pottery in the creek. There must have been many Indians living here, over a long period of time. Larger pieces are rare… seems I read somewhere that damaged pots had to be broken up to release their spirit before they could be discarded. Styles and compositions vary; most is plain, utilitarian- looking.

My new backpack came in!

I wound the week up with a flourish

I had to go back to town after this morning’s hunt, so I knew I must make the best of it. I set up beside a tree in that flat between Hickory Ridge and the creek. The weather was warmer and damper this morning. There was more dew, and the leaves under foot were not as crunchy as they had been. I was daydreaming about how well my new glasses were performing in the field, when I saw movement in the distance. These things really help with picking out detail and avoiding eyestrain. I eased up to and got my bow into shooting position, The deer had materialized by this time, a good – sized, mature doe. I would take this one with no qualms. This was a textbook example; it all came together perfectly. I sighted the deer from a distance, and it never saw me. She came in to about 20 yards, perfect range, and stopped broadside. I came to full draw, aimed, and released a perfect shot. Somewhere between me and the deer, however, there was a vine that I hadn’t seen. The arrow struck it with a loud THWACK! The deer reared back her head, her eyes wide, and she bounded away, leaving a shadowy likeness to dissipate where she had been standing [just like in the cartoons]. I walked the arrow’s path and picked it up, lying on the ground. One blade showed obvious evidence of the vine’s impact. Thankful that I hadn’t had a long and difficult search to account for that arrow, I stowed it in my quiver and headed back to break camp. Some of my most cherished memories are the ones that got away, and this will be one of those. It all came together just right. What if that vine….

Well, I missed. A vine deflected my arrow. [original post by: Cingular Wireless Messaging
http://www.CingularMe.COM/]

What a glorious morning!

It was cool and still, with blue skies and sunshine. I ambled along Panther Creek to the far corner of the place and saw some scattered deer tracks; only one spot seemed to be a regularly- used trail. I filled my canteen and dropped in one of those chlorine tablets (for more on those, link to CampDaddy’s Page). I drank from that little creek for years, but I fear it is no longer pristine. There is now public access through the Wildlife Management Area, and I sometimes find bits of litter in it.

Seeing lots of squirrels, real close. I was very nervous about the one that was on the opposite side of the tree from me. He was purring just like a cat, but it didn't sound very friendly. Turkeys came feeding along Panther Creek andwalked all around me. Perhaps these were part of that flock I previously saw crossing the big creek. Have only seen 2 deer, my supposed quarry.

At that far, back corner of the place there is a hairpin bend in Panther Creek, around a little finger ridge. That is a spot I have always wanted to camp. It is flat on top, and is surrounded by steep inclines on three sides, down to the creek bed. I sat long, enjoying it there with the birds singing and the breeze sighing in the trees. I wished I had remembered my GORP, it was too early for lunch and I needed a snack.

Since I hadn’t found specific feeding areas, I would try to hunt along paths to water. Hiking to my afternoon stand with that in mind, I heard a deer move out ahead of me… maybe things were getting better. After what seemed a very long wait, I heard a slight rattle of leaves and watched a deer come up the ridge from the creek… maybe this idea of hunting the watering areas was the ticket! It was a doe, about a yearling- size, I’d guess. The wind was in my favor; I had planned it that way. After a full week in the woods, with poor luck in just seeing deer, maybe I shouldn’t be choosy; I’d try a shot. She was browsing along, nipping here and there at some low- growing green leaves. I had to turn and get into shooting form, with only rare instances when her vision was blocked. I was fearful she might hear my heart pounding! I began drawing the bow when she was approaching a clear spot. She was in range, less than 20 yards. The shot angle was right. Before I reached full draw, my elbow hit the tree trunk I was hunkered against. I must have made some small sound or movement that she detected, because she made one quick hop over the side of the ridge and the opportunity was gone. About 30 seconds later (it seemed a lot longer) she stood out of sight and snorted repeatedly, as if laughing at me. [original post: Cingular Wireless Messaging http://www.CingularMe.COM/]

Still searching... and enjoying every minute of it

I’ve been seeing many wrens. That’s a delightful little bird with a large voice. These haven’t been singing, though: they were busy hunting. I wondered whether they are still feeding one last brood of chicks, are they preparing for the change of seasons, or has food scarcity with the dry weather necessitated more hunting effort. I had noted the absence of armadillos; they usually rummage around the forest duff and their noise kept me constantly on edge when watching for deer. I eventually saw some recent armadillo diggings: not fresh, but since the last rain. Searching for deer sign, I located some trails in the creek bed. Not many were crossing, though; travel was along the creek. I saw a deer Tuesday and heard and heard another. Nothing Wednesday; I stayed until full dark. [original post: Brought to you by, Cingular Wireless Messaging
http://www.CingularMe.COM/]

Opening the archery deer season

Hi all; original post by cell phone fromHickory Ridge. Woods are pretty; seeing no deer but much squirrel activity.

It was a pretty morning for opening day of the archery deer season. The skies were blue and the winds calm. Nephew and his friend who came to hunt said they had been through some dense fog. No fog here though, and no dew; it was dry and noisy to walk. I had little choice, though; I had done no pre-season scouting. I got impatient on my hastily- chosen stand, breakfasted on GORP and came out of the woods about 9 am, having seen lots of squirrels and no deer. I planted some mustard greens near the cabin, in the area I had tilled yesterday… more dependable to grow, rather than hunt for food. By 10:30, it was already hot. In my rounds, I couldn’t find evidence of what the deer were feeding on and I saw no heavily traveled trails. I was noticing the timber stand as I went, too. There are many poor trees and snags that need to be thinned so the younger stuff can come on. It’s too hot now… maybe as it cools down. I was pleased to find that I can now get a cell phone signal from the top of Hickory ridge. I was even able to post to my blog and tell the world that I am safe, if not very successful. I noted that I had seen no armadillos or evidence of their digging. That is mighty unusual for this time of year. And no mosquitoes, ticks, or gnats, either. I won’t complain about their absence. After a mid- day rest at the cabin, I slipped back to the woods. I checked around the scattered French mulberry, but the deer didn’t seem to be nipping at that. I still wasn’t finding obvious feeding areas, but located some possible watering spots. A couple of times, I heard deer move out ahead of me. The second morning started cooler and warmed quickly. I continued scouting and found most deer sign along the creeks. It’s very dry in the woods, and they have to go to water; so I should hunt along trails to water. As I worked my way back toward camp, I saw a deer on the creek bank. Unfortunately, it saw me first and dashed away, waving that white flag.