Who? Who was that?

A bird flushed and startled me, coming from a small magnolia tree nearby. It ducked into the butt of this log and stopped to stare at me … a little screech owl. He turned a shoulder to me as I snapped a picture, then he darted away; I can barely make him out. Maybe he lives in that log… I’ll try to visit him again.

Mayapples... love to see 'em

Stands of mayapples are beginning to bloom now. I always enjoy seeing patches of these exotic- looking plants; and, one of these days, I’m going to sample one of their fruits before the deer and squirrels eat them all.

Drying out

It was colder than I had expected: 32 degrees on my little zipper- pull thermometer. I stirred up the coffee- makings without leaving the covers, and lazed there sipping coffee and watching daylight arrive. When I sat up to dress, I brushed the tent wall and got a wet sleeve. Condensate can be a problem in some tents, especially small ones and in cold and damp conditions. I’m still in the learning curve with this little tent: need more ventilation next time. The sunny morning warmed quickly, and I soon had my gear dry and packed.

Early Spring is best for Louisiana camping

I camped in the creek bottom Friday night. The sun had set, and darkness was quickly closing in. I set up my tent under the drop- off, to be sheltered from that North wind whistling across the field. It had been a lovely, mild afternoon but the temperature was dropping rapidly. Trees and brush were tight, so a large enough campsite was hard to find in the fading light; I was especially trying to avoid the game trails. Those deer will ramble around all night long and keep waking you with their nervous snorts and foot stamping. Once the tent was pitched, I stepped off to a convenient kitchen spot and saw a green fireball overhead. I looked up and saw another… don’t meteor showers come in the early morning? Then I saw another that was nearly stationary… lightning bugs! They were scattered all around in the treetops and when one was caught in a gust of wind, his flash went through the woods like a tracer. That was quite a show. I never knew fireflies were out this early or at such cool temperatures. Supper in the dark must be simple and hot, so Ramen soup was on the menu: quick, easy cleanup, and I was ready to duck into the tent. I fired up the candle lantern and it quickly moderated the temperature in my little solo tent, but it’s not quite enough light to read by. Funny… I recall that it used to be enough light… maybe they just don’t make candles like they used to. Unfortunately, my bed was not very satisfactory. Setting up in the dark, with few spots available, I had picked a very lumpy location, and could expect as long night. I soon crashed and the next I knew, my cell phone’s alarm was calling me… maybe it was not so bad a site after all. I love to watch the woods come alive in the early morning. The sky was just beginning to gray when I heard the turkey gobble across the creek. I might be looking for him next weekend! Then I heard an excited- sounding hen start up, and there were several abbreviated gobbles… I don’t know enough about turkeys: maybe those were still on the roost; or maybe they were the younger jakes.

Red Stick Day

It was a beautiful day! It was clear and cool, with the trees budding out. Everyone seemed to have spring fever as bad as I do. My boy was after the bass which were visible all along the shallow pond edges; they examined every offering, but refused to bite. Red Stick Day is the annual gathering of the local fly- fishing club. I visited friends and saw some interesting demonstrations and presentations. I did not win any prizes in the raffles, though. I surely lusted after a beautiful little pack rod made by a fellow club- member, but didn't win it. Lunch was a special treat: crawfish etouffee (pronounced A- 2- FAY), first crawfish I've had this year.
The kayak demonstrations were popular, and there was much interest in the new model that The Backpacker had brought along. Back amid the turmoil of my residence, I forgot to view the lunar eclipse; when I dashed outside, the moon was already high and the eclipse was over... guess I'll have to wait for the next one.

Mardi gras in the swamp

It’s difficult for my son and me to coordinate days off for fishing, but we got away Monday afternoon and headed toward Butte La Rose for an overnighter. The water was very clear, but high, and the wind was howling. We only brought our fly rods and they were too much of a battle in that wind. We set a trotline and found an inlet that was quiet enough to make a few casts… no fish, though. It was a pretty drive across the Atchafalaya Basin; the trees were bare and the dominant color was a wintry shade of grey. There were occasional sprigs of green, but against all of that drab background were great flames of red- purple color where the swamp maples were coming to life again. I have always been impressed by that vivid swamp- maple display in the early spring. Simple pleasures…. We were prepared to camp in the swamp, but I didn’t relish fighting a canoe against that wind or listening to a tent flap all night. The swamp is different from my home territory: it’s all flat, whereas the hills offer more windbreaks and protected coves. We stayed in the truck- camper, baited our line, and ran it once during the night and again at daylight. We did manage to get some catfish… caught enough for supper when we got home and put two packages in the freezer for future meals… we made groceries and had a pretty good outing.

More signs of Spring

A little woods violet was smiling through the leaf- litter…another pronouncement of spring. The goldfinches were busy at my birdfeeder, and there were many other birds fluttering around the bushes and the camp- yard. I need to put up a nest box for that bluebird!

My intention was to do some squirrel hunting while I was in the woods; when I was chasing deer, the squirrels were everywhere. Now, I only spotted two, and they were far away. Maybe I was too enthralled with the birds bouncing everywhere, to be serious about squirrel hunting. The rainy spell seems to have ended, but the ground is still wet like a sponge. It was cold this morning, low 20’s, but it was still, and warmed up to a very pretty afternoon. I love this time of the year... I guess I say that at every season... it's always joyous to be out basking in the natural world. Sunrises and sunsets have been colorful… those red- orange skies make beautiful contrasts to the silhouettes of bare- limbed trees.

Seasons are changing

Well, it’s a bittersweet time of year for me; bowhunting will end tomorrow, and it always saddens me a little. On the other hand, the trillium reminds me that springtime is almost here and it always gladdens me with its early emergence through the drab, dead leaves of the forest floor. The arrival of birds seems to be late this year, but they are here now, and very busy in the woods. I watched a long time as robins fed in a tree across the creek. I don’t know what they were after, but it must have been very good. They fluttered and cackled and came and went… it was a veritable cyclone of birds!

Papaw’s axe

I replaced the handle on my grandfather’s old axe today. It was loose when I used it last week. I steamed it to tightness and got my tree cut, but chopping made it shake loose again: a handle fracture was hidden inside the head. One doesn’t see many double- bit axes in use these days, but they are still available in hardware stores… I saw them when shopping for a new handle. I don’t know how long this axe has been around, but I recall that 50 years ago, it was already old and well- used. Papaw logged the Tunica Hills with hand tools and oxen when he was young, and this axe could date from that time.

Yep, winter must be over

It’s awfully warm to be hunting today, and rain is forecast for tonight and tomorrow. The mosquitoes have come out again, and they’re hungry! These mosquitoes are our more familiar variety, just bothersome at dawn and dusk, and staying in the bushes. Those terrible marsh mosquitoes that had blown in here would run you all around in the open, regardless of wind, and in broad daylight.

Is winter over, now?

It sprinkled rain last night, only got down to 38 degrees this morning, and it has warmed up considerably during the day. These big white- oak acorns are favorites in the deer diet; I found them along Panther Creek. The creek bank was torn up with hoof- prints of deer, but no deer showed up while I was sneaking around here trying to ambush one. I thought this cold weather and the moon phase would come together to stir the juices in those old bucks, but it hasn’t happened. We are seeing some deer signs, a few rubs, scrapes, and tracks, but the deer are moving at night.

Fetching water

I didn’t bring enough drinking water, so I was visiting Panther Creek regularly to fill canteens. This lovely little pool looked inviting but, after a 15- degree morning, skinny- dipping was out of the question. My rain- barrel had been topped with thick ice… I couldn’t break through with a stick.

I hope this rids us of mosquitoes!

I slept pretty well, and was glad to have the thermal underwear. It was 30 degrees in the cabin when I woke up. I lit the heater, started some coffee and rolled back over and convinced myself that those deer were too smart to get out of their beds when it’s that cold. They’d like to lounge around, so that’s what I did, too. The heater got the cabin up to 50 degrees and I was so comfortable that I made another cup of coffee and listened to the radio for a while. When I worked up enough courage to get outside, I found that it was a beautiful morning: the temperature was 28; it was fair and sunny, with very slight breezes. This weather was pleasant, and was a far cry from a Friday, December 8, that I remember twenty- eight years ago…that one was cold and breezy and wet, and still drizzling rain.

A cold night is coming!

I found some fresh rubs on the creek trail, where Hickory Ridge begins; hunting there this afternoon, the wind was gusting constantly, bringing in a mighty cold blast of air soon. No critters out; the birds and squirrels must be hunkered down. Most of the leaves are on the ground now; it’s like walking on cornflakes. As the sun set, it was still windy and the temperature was dropping. It was 40 degrees inside, when I shucked my pack in the cabin. My double- mantle lantern broke the chill and nudged the temperature up to 50, but it was still dropping outside. I forgot to bring my warm mummy- bag; at bedtime I donned long- johns, watch cap and socks and crawled into my old rectangular sleeping bag. That bag is getting pretty thin in spots, but it is roomy and comfortable and is just the right weight most of the year. I’m sentimental about the old fart- sack; I ordered it from Herter’s about 40 years ago. That was the first I had heard of Polar-Guard insulation and, like all of Herter’s products it was described as the best and biggest and “finest procurable”. I must admit that I still use it often, and it has been with me from Gulf sands to above timber- line and everywhere in- between.

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.