Improving the woodlands

Over the years the higher- grade sawtimber has been harvested from our place, leaving too many large, poor- quality trees. In an effort to begin correcting that situation, we cropped it closely, about 15 years ago. Now that the overstory is again shading out the ground cover, I have begun ringing or removing some of the inferior trees. I plan to continue this in a rotation of small areas scattered through the forest. My intention is to promote growth of the young timber crop, by relieving its competition from the larger, inferior trees. Those old trees have no value as sawtimber, and very little worth as hardwood pulp. That timber will need another 15 to 20 years to mature, so it might not benefit me, but will be valuable to the next generation. Opening the overstory in spots will allow "islands" of undergrowth to develop, providing prime wildlife habitat in addition to timber improvement. I had been waiting for cool weather, and for gun season, so now I have started on another long- procrastinated project.

Gun season opens for deer

This is always something of a disappointment to me. I hunt with “real guns” too, but gun season puts much noise, activity, and hunting pressure into the woods. Generally, gun season lessons my odds of success at bowhunting, detracts from my wildlife watching and diminishes my enjoyment of the overall experience outdoors. Today I did well, however. I saw lots of chipmunks and birds around. Hawks were hunting in the trees nearby, and I saw two light- colored, medium- sized “somethings” run by… maybe those coyotes that have been waking me at night? After legal shooting time ended, I was packing my gear and saw movement that must have been deer feeding, Unfortunately, it had gotten too dark to be sure.

Keep your powder dry!

I took my smoke- pole out again, hunting morning and evening, with a midday work- period. That’s the way to do things: play all day, with a little work thrown in as an afterthought. Nobody saw deer; I guess they just weren’t moving. I hunkered down on the side of Hickory Ridge, watching that flat along the creek. I saw no deer but thought I smelled one, about 5 pm. It was a good weekend for other critters, though. Coyotes howling woke me again last night. I saw quite a bit of armadillo diggin's scattered around. Flights of geese were coming over and I could hear their calls. It thrills me to hear those geese, but I must admit, it gives me a cold and lonesome feeling, too.

Muzzle- loader season

I enjoy shooting black powder, although I have not hunted much with my muzzle- loaders. These are the guns of my ancestors… several generations back. They would be surprised and enthusiastic at some of the advances in their “primitive weapons”, but they wouldn’t even recognize some of the “muzzle- loaders” popular with today’s hunters. This little rifle is billed as a Hawken- type, but it is not very authentic to the guns of the plainsmen. The barrel is not quite as thick and is nearly a foot too short. The lock mechanism has modern coil- springs, instead of the old leaf- type springs. I’m still shooting black powder, but now you can substitute gunpowders which make much less smoke and are less corrosive. These things even come in pre- measured pellets that you just drop into your gun. I’m also still shooting patched round balls, but now you can get a wide variety of projectiles. Most of these don’t need patching, they have thin lead or plastic bases which expand into the rifling. Some of these deliver modern, high- tech bullets downrange. I guess I’m conservative; maybe it’s sentimental. But I just don’t understand the attraction of those bolt- action muzzle- loaders with telescopic sights, propelling saboted soft- point pistol bullets with Pyrodex pellets, ignited by shotgun primers. For me, such things seem to miss the point of a “primitive weapons” hunt. No thanks, not for me, but those guys help to support the wildlife and the hunting opportunities, and I am grateful for the chance to go afield and follow my own whims.

These cold- fronts make me lazy

It rained Wednesday night and was still drizzly Thursday morning; I turned off the alarm and stayed warm in my fart- sack. I puttered around camp, rather than venture onto those slippery hills. The sun finally came out about 8 am and the water ran off, so I braved it to go up Hickory Ridge and check my phone messages. I topped- out at the old wild- plum tree and that East wind was chilly. Taller “mountains” on the place are less exposed, but are more difficult to reach. The plum tree has 194 ft. elevation by GPS

Cold and breezy Friday morning, again. I hiked to the far end of the place. No critters were moving, the ravines have eroded some more back there, and that area has grown quite a thicket of cane and briars. A few birds and chipmunks started bustling around, once it warmed up. I couldn’t stay and play, however, I had to pack up and get back to town.

Acorns falling?

I’m working on marking the property line through the woods. There is some rough territory at the back end of the place. My grandfather said that land’s only use was for holding the world together. I walked up a deer at the far end of Creek Cottage… a fair- sized one, looked like, but I couldn’t tell much with the undergrowth and distance. I noted some deer sign associated with acorns on the ground. Perhaps an acorn- fall is beginning to attract them, now. The mosquitoes have gotten bad, since recent rains and the warming trend. I had been enjoying their absence.