What to do?

So now that i have shot a deer. What do i do? I had never skinned a mammal before, nor have I butchered one. After we loaded the deer into the truck and did a little bit more hunting we took him back to town where I strung it up from the rafters only to realize that i really did not know what i was doing. So i went at it anyway. skinning the deer was actually very easy and i convinced my younger brother to give me a hand. Once we had his shirt off we went right into the deboneing, which was also very straight forward. Cut the meat off the bone. Not rocket science. Now what? I had seen a couple times what the elders would use to smoke their moose meat up north. I highly respected these people i had met on a couple of my adventures. People living off the land and respecting their Earth, with tales that would interest even the most worldly of folk. I figured they certainly must be doing something right. The smokers i had seen consisted of a bathtub type arrangement where the fire would go and then a three sided triangle like structure to funnel the smoke. Now i did not have an entire moose to smoke so i simplified the design a little bit and used a washing machine hub instead of the bath tub. Peanut butter jerky time! I figured i could design a recipe for myself. So i did.

3kg venison, 1 cup teriyaki sauce, quarter cup Worcestershire sauce and balsamic vinegar. two tablespoons pepper, 3 table spoons meat tenderizer, splash of lemon juice, 6 cloves garlic and one whole white onion. Let the meat sit in that for a day then smoke the shit out of it, being careful not to get it to close to the flame.

Life is good when you are eating jerky all the time.

Dream envisioned- Goal achieved.

On saturday i shot my very first deer. Not the largest animal in the forest but it was still a nice three by three buck.

I went out hunting in Weyburn with my friend Kalen, his father and his father's friend. Up at the sixth chime and off for some good old breakfast. Did I mention how much i love breakfast? Well anyway, I love it, I think i may even dedicate my next tattoo to the traditional bacon, eggs, toast and hash. As soon as I punctured the egg yoke with my hashbrowns I knew it was going to be a swell day. So off in the direction of Kalens farm we went. We did a little push in a creek bed before giving up to find somewhere else to try our luck. We were motoring down a prairie trail when off on the horizon we spotted a buck chasing around a doe in the field. The rut is often over by this time of the year but i think with the cold weather those four legged animals might have pushed it back aways. Anyway. this fellow paid zero attention to us. He had only one thing on his mind...sort of like us men i guesse, except if deer had guns we would all be dead.

First we tried to take a shot at him from the road but he up and decided the middle of the section was a better place to hang out. After that we sent Doug to try and spook him over to us on the North side. That didn't pan out either. If that doe wasn't going anywhere neither was he. So finally we went to the south side where the wind was in our favour and walked to within a hundred and fifty yards from him. He could not hear nor see us because of the breeze. I got down on my belly and touched off some rounds from the .243 Savage and hit him in the front shoulder. Not quite in the Engine block but pretty darned close.

Next thing you knew we had him field dressed when another buck popped up on the horizon a hundred yards away. It looked just like the boy i had shot so Kalen grabbed his .303 and took a standing shot at him when the deer did not even notice. The deer kept coming right at Kalen! so he touched off another shot from 30 yards away and down it went. BUT. this was not to be our lucky day. On close examination, Kalen had accidentally shot a mule deer, for which he did not have tags. A very honest mistake, the Muley had smaller ears than normal and the antler configuration screamed white tail. The deer had not been running either which could have been a clear giveaway. So we did the only honest thing we could. We phoned up the local conservation officer to tell our tale. Respecting our honesty, the officer did not charge Kalen and only took the deer away to give to a needy family. Turns out honesty is actually the best policy.

Invaders from the North

Usually the word Invaders is surrounded by negative connotations. For this blog though, that is not the case. If you read the Leaderpost at all you may have noticed a story on this a couple of months back, if not, I have great news for you. When I was a child, I believed the Elk and Moose species to be almost mythical creatures of great treasure. They were animals of the uninhabited North country or of the great Rocky mountains. Historically though, this was not the case. Moose and Elk once roamed all of Saskatchewan, but during a time when rural inhabitants shot much of their own meat, their numbers dwindled. In 1930 Elk hunting had to actually be closed in Saskatchewan so that they would not become extirpated. It seems now however that Moose and Elk are not the mythical creatures I once imagined them to be. They are now making a comeback in southern Saskatchewan.

My friend Brett was hunting south of Moose Jaw this Saturday right near the border when he saw 12 Elk! Then Sunday me and Brett went hunting just a half hour or so East of Regina where we were greeted with the presence of a large cow Moose. The large female was a magical sight in the frosty early morning. Standing by a scattered hay pile, everytime she breathed a cloud of moisture engulfed her head. She stood broadside to us about a hundred and fifty yards away for a couple minutes before she continued on with her journey. Hopefully her belly is just getting started on some baby moose for next spring.

This is excellent news to hunters. Because of the Ministry of Environment's conservation efforts to increase the Moose and Elk populations throughout Saskatchewan, us Reginians may one day be able to hunt Moose right out our back door. Wouldn't that be something.

For the full LeaderPost article- http://www.leaderpost.com/technology/Moose+making+move/2080289/story.html

punked on the morning hunt.

So I went out for a little morning hunt for deer today around the city of Regina. No farther from the city then about ten minutes. I drive around for about 20 minutes without seeing anything and then head down a prairie trail we had found on Sunday where someone had set up a little makeshift tree stand in the bush. I got out of my truck to take a poop when i hear some Hungarian Partridges. Having seen nothing the rest of the morning, i go and open up my gun case to change the barrels on my shotgun and try my hand and convincing some poultry onto the dinner plate. I have a Mossberg five hundred that came with a riffled slug barrel for deer and a smooth bore barrel for shot. So i put in my chicken barrel and walk thirty yards away from the truck where i cross the fence where it sounds like the chickens are hanging around. No sooner do i hop over the fence when i turn to my right and not thirty fucking yards away comes a nice four by four whitetail deer trotting broad side to me. I could have screamed! Easiest shot in the world. I would not have even had to haul the deer back to the vehicle, it was right on the trail! I gave a try at getting back to the Ford for my other barrel before the deer noticed me but i had no such luck. Him and his other two friends who had now joined him quickly jumped the barbed wire and slowly walked just out of range of my peace maker. Such is Murphy's law though as not only could i not get the deer but it turned out the Huns were a good 600 yards away and sound just apparently travels like wildfire in the fall morning.

I suppose it was at least not a total loss. Now i know where the deer are at and i have a tree stand to use. So wish me luck tomorrow morning as i get up bright and early to try to rattle in a buck for the supper table.

Wood smoke

What is it about the smell of wood smoke? Why does it provoke all my fondest memories? Why does the aroma instantly make me happy? Why is it around whenever i am truly enjoying my life? Why does it function as a cloud of comfort for me? Is it some sort of misunderstood mood enhancer? Does it trigger some sort of primordial human emotion? An emotion felt when times were happier long ago. Does it put us more in touch with our ancestors? Or the creator? Some people believe smoke sends our prayers and thoughts to the mysterious over sear in the clouds. The questions are endless, but for me, i am able to narrow it down to one definite answer.

For me, it is but a reminder. A recollection of those moments in time that are truly significant. Sitting around the camp stove with good pals after a long day of moose hunting. Perched on a log at the side of a mountain lake after taking the plunge off the granite cliffs all afternoon. Hanging around the fireplace with my family on Christmas morning. Lighting the stove in the cabin after hammering walleye all day. Not to mention the always common but never inappreciable moments late at night in the backyard with your best friends. Simply stated, All my favorite days culminate in night time campfires With the sweet fragrance of wood smoke always nearby.

Bounty Hunting

The ministry of agriculture announced this week that they will be placing a bounty on Coyotes. Twenty dollars a head is what the government has deemed this predator worth. Although i am not sure how i feel about the idea of putting a bounty on an animal, I don't think i am going to pass up the opportunity to do some coyote hunting. If the government keeps things in check, hopefully the bounty does its job and thins out the population of deer thieves without fulling eradicating them and fucking up the entire ecosystem. However, twenty dollars from the government, A nice pair of mittens and some coyote meat, justifies it enough for me. The idea of eating a coyote probably grosses most people out that live in the westernized world, but there is a huge percentage of the world that would love to stick their nose in a roasted hind leg.... and who are we to say that is wrong.
So on Friday me and some friends went out to the arm river valley to once again try our hand at some hunting. This time around the grouse were not so spooked and i was able to get a few shots off, but apparently i need to work on my aim. We also tried out the predator call that i bought. It makes the sound of a distressed rabbit. I huffed and i puffed and i blew into the reed call and soon enough magpies began to circle overhead, and a crow took a slight dive into the area before realizing that it was inhabited by humans. Some say patience is a virtue though, and i don't have that virtue. After a few minutes i got up, took out the buck shot and put back in the bird shot only to see a coyote russle out from the bushes fifteen feet away. Shucks!

better luck next time i suppose.

press release- http://www.gov.sk.ca/news?newsId=c533b51a-71ad-4e88-a940-370a0670e9d0

Three against the wilderness.

I just finished reading this classic British Columbia wilderness tale today. "Three Against the Wilderness" was an excelent read. A story about Eric Collier and his family, who as pioneers in the late 1920's went deep into the mountanous terrain of B.C. to scrape out a living for themselves. Not just a story of adventure and survival, it is also a story of conservation. Colliers realization that the lack of beavers in the area contributed to the lack of habitat for other wildlife was one of great insight. Whiteman and Indian had long ago trapped out all the beavers before Eric's family entered the scene. With hardwork and vision Eric vowed to bring them back to the area. With his bare hands he rebuilt their dams so that water could once again replenesh the marshes and feed the potential animals. A conservation officer, hearing about the work Eric had done, brought two pair of beavers down from the North country so that with the help of Collier, beavers could once again protect the wetlands. 14 years later beaver populations in the area where high enough that Eric and his son could harvest a hundred beavers ever trapping season. Collier has an excellent story telling ability and is able to conjur the wildness of the mountains and hills for all to share. This story reminded a lot about Saskatchewans own famous conservationist, the famous Grey Owl. If you are interested in the outdoors and love to read then i highly recomend this book for you.

www.ericcollier.org.uk

Regina Beach hunting.

So last weekend me and some pals went out looking for some birds to shoot. Sharp tailed grouse in particular, Saskatchewan's official bird. These birds are pretty prevalent throughout the province but they tend to populate the prairie lands the most. Limits on these birds are 3 a day and 6 in your possession, which would certainly fill more than my freezer. Unfortunately for us though there would be no birds flying into my freezer on this warm November day. The chickens were all very spooked. While we saw maybe six birds during our walk we were unable to get even remotely close to the grouse which are actually known for sometimes flushing out right below your feet before you even realiz they are there.

To hunt these deceiving creatures we made the trek out to the Regina Beach community pasture. The pasture takes up a very significant amount of land(more land than you could hunt in one day) and much of the land is located along the arm river valley. The arm river valley is famously known for sheltering Louis Riel on his way up from America to Batoche to take part in the North West Rebellion. This is a very Beautiful valley with an ever flowing creek, not big enough to paddle down but big enough to present a challenge in crossing it. You can hunt all day in a place such as this, not harvest a single animal and still have one of your most enjoyable days of the fall. The highlight this time was Jenna stumbling upon the sleeping porcupine. Fearing the thought of getting to close, we yelled at the creature to awaken it from it's slumber but it was useless. A dozy [orcupine sleeps sounder than a hungover highschooler. Not easily dismayed, we tossed a stick in its direction and sure enough it took flight. These are pretty slow creatures so its pretty humorous to watch them gallop away from you. It looks more like the slow waddle of an aligator.

All in all a solid day was had. We still managed to put some lead in the air, firing off a couple rounds at the old beer bottle on the fence post, and even a giant four litre jug of piss we found on the side of the road (which was pretty gross, but i must say it looked fantastic when it exploded). Oh and one more thing worth mentioning, the brunch at Regina Beach was able to combine my two favorite foods into one awesome flavour explosion. This was my first experience with breakfast pizza, and if i have any say in it, it certainly will not be my last.

here are a few photos from the excursion. Photo credits go to my friend Jenna Slade.

My Idol

My idol in life is Richard Proenneke. This man captures his attempt to live in the Alaskan Wilderness in three, hour long documentaries. What this man could do with hand tools and a pile of logs is beyond my comprehension. His cabin in the woods is no house, it is instead a work of beauty. For some thirty odd years this man lived in the Alaskan wilderness, cutting himself an existence through the white spruce of an untouched land. Dick did not come back to the cilivized world until the harsh Alaskan winters forced him to at the age of eighty two.

www.dickproenneke.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYJKd0rkKss