Pop's Poppers - Refurbishing the old Arbogast Hula Popper

Archery season starts in these parts on Friday, so this may be my last fishing blog for a while as I get into hunting mode again.

Meanwhile, my father was a die-hard largemouth bass fisherman and unlike most, he loved the flyrod.  Every weekend he was able in the summer, we would take the old aluminum 12 -foot V-hull mirrorcraft and head to a downstate Delaware bass pond.  He told me when he was younger, he became friends and fished several times with the legendary Joe Brooks.  That may have kindled this flyrod obsession for bass.  He was a frugal child of the depression, so his gear was never top of the line, and he even made his own rods at times.  Sometimes, this put him at a disadvantage, but he always managed to catch bass and spread his love of the flyrod to us boys.  

One of his ultimate favorite ways to catch bass was with the Hula Popper around the lily pads.  He was convinced the skirt, combined with the many white rubber legs, was a bass magnet.  He suspected that those legs and skirt action would flare out on a pause after a pop or two on the surface.  His favorite color was black.  

After his passing, I inherited a fly box that was chock full of popper bodies.  If anyone is familiar with the Hula popper, even the spin version, they know that the skirts just did not hold up.  They would get stiff and dry rot, and if they were anywhere near plastic worms in the box they would melt into a mass of plastic.  The rubber legs were not much hardier as they would get brittle after a couple years.  Well, this fly box was filled with formerly fished popper bodies, maybe about 20 in all, in a variety of colors. There was a smaller and a larger size also.  The smaller will be just the ticket for smallmouth I believe.

I decided to refurbish and use these again but first did a little internet research in case they were still made and I could purchase replacement skirts.  No luck, they are not made anymore, so it was time spend some time at the fly vice.

A little internet research was enlightening.  

I learned that the Hula Popper was created in the 1940's, and was one of the few spin plugs that started out as a flyrod popper first!  Here is a 1947 advertisement from Sports Afield with an earlier version without the rubber legs. 

I received a pack of silicone leg material, that I hope might last a bit longer than rubber.  I needed to use my bodkin, and bobbin threader to pull two sets of legs through the holes from the original locations.  Instead of a skirt, I just tied in bundles of silicone legs doubled over.  Most took some touch up of black UV epoxy for freshening up the paint job.  Sharpened the hooks again and I made a thread dam behind the hook eye.  Some of these eyes had a gap that may fray or turn out tippet.  

I am happy with how they came out!  I may not get a chance to use them until next spring, but I think it is very cool to refurbish these old, no longer made, bass classics.  Maybe my Pop will help me catch a few more fish still.  Thanks Dad.

Tan That Deer Hide - Easy Self-Tanning Trick with a Pressure Washer

Last November on a snowy morning, I was fortunate to take a nice doe with thick winter coat with the flintlock on public land.  I had since had this hide stored, well salted, in my freezer.  

You can read that full story here: 

It was July and time to make some space in the freezer!

This was not my first tanning attempt, and I already had two successful fur-on pelts hanging in my man cave. 

I had some Lutan FN tanning chemical leftover from a Van Dykes kit, as well as some tanning oil, so I decided to use that instead of the egg and ivory soap method I used last time I tanned some buckskin.  Refreshing my memory, I decided to do some internet searches on the process.  

I found a tip about using a pressure washer to flesh out the hide. This process was always the most trouble for me in the past as it is messy, it is hard to avoid holes, and it takes some sort of setup like a fleshing beam.  I found that by using a pressure washer, all I needed was two adjustable clamps and a piece of plywood.  The method saved me an estimated 3-hours of scraping, and I'll never know how many hand cramps!  I had the best cleanest fleshing job with no holes in about 30-45 minutes.

Here you can see the flesh coming off in one big sheet.  The clamps keep the plywood propped at an angle, which helps "push off" the flesh and sinew. 

Viola!  The cleanest hide I have ever tried to tan.

I picked the hide for 24 hours with vinegar and salt, then soaked it in the tanning solution in a 5-gallon bucket with 12 oz of the Lutan and salt.  It dried and worked wonderful for my softest and best-looking hair on hide.

I had intended this tan to be cut up and used for dying to produce deer hair bug material for fishing poppers, but now I may use one of my older hides for that.  

Save those deer hides!

Catoctin Cakes - Rainbow Trout "crab" cakes

I've been having some fun and some success recently catching the state's put-and-take trout.  The fish in these streams do not survive the hot summers, and with what I think are exorbitant fishing license fees I have been happily keeping my limit of stocked rainbows when I catch them.  The family has been getting a bit tired of trout fried in butter, so I have been looking for recipes to liven up the dinner menu.

I decided to try to make some trout cakes I cunningly told my wife were "Catoctin Cakes", from the streams of the Catoctin Mountains here in Maryland.

My herb garden supplied me with green onions, dill, parsley, and rosemary...while onion, garlic, eggs, mustard and seafood seasoning was purchased from the store.  

The result were these super tasty cakes that when broiled to crispiness provided some world class eats!  I am actually looking forward to eating the lone leftover in a cake sandwich tomorrow for lunch.

After cooking the trout as usual in butter, I let them cool and picked out the meat.

Mixed the herbs, eggs, olive oil, and breadcrumbs in a bowl

Formed them into patties and broiled.

Spring Means Turkey, Trout, and Trying to Find Morels!

 Well, turkey camp has come and gone. It was a quick 3 hunts and 2 nights.  

Things started out around 330am Thursday morning.  I had a hockey game Wednesday night with a 1015 start time (and I was feeling my age), so I didn't get much sleep before the alarm rousted me.  I made a quick pint of coffee and grabbed a biscuit and drove out the hour and 45 minutes to the mountain to hunt the morning.  I got to the parking area just at first light and noticed another truck in the lot.  My brother was already at camp with his inlaw Walter and I assumed they were somewhere as well.  I started down the road to hike about a ¼ mile to the top while scanning the trees for roosted birds and texted the group I was there. Our friend Jeff responded back that he was also out in the woods, and I soon came across his blind and decoys and we quickly chatted.  He was in the area I was thinking of, so I told him I would go down the fire road to hunt the old farm field.  I got there and was relieved I didn't wear more layers as the it was hot and buggy.  I found a boulder and set up on the field edge.  I had decided to hunt this weekend with the shotgun due to the pressure this area gets from the PA hunters and last years experiences.  I called a bit and soon a form melted into view... another hunter.  He came up on me and we chatted a bit and went our separate ways.  He said there was another car in the lot he started at and neither of us had heard a peep yet.   I slow hunted back along the ridge but never heard or saw a thing.  I checked out my mushroom patch before leaving, but there were no morels either. I went back to camp at noon.  Was this going to be a challenging camp?

Back at camp I had some chili and set up my tipi.  Nobody saw much, there were some feathers in the lot so I figured some hunting pressure had taken a bird last week.  Chris went to take a nap and I went 45 minutes back down the road to fish for trout at a stocked stream.  I got there to very low water conditions and a thick scummy algae over most of the roads and floating away on the top.  There was only one deep hole and all the fish were there.  I saw a big 3 pound rainbow and a couple 17 inchers cruising.  They were rising occasionally to something small.  The current was very slow, there was floating scum, and the wind was blowing the surface stuff upstream. Difficult conditions. I was using a dry fly with a small midge.  Very difficult to fish as I would hook scum or catch it on the drift.  I did have the big boy do a quadruple take on my caddis, but he didn't take the bait.  I fished for over 2 hours and only caught one 7 incher that I put back on the midge dropper.  The rest of the stream was very low and shallow.

Back at camp our friend Jeff made us some antelope backstrap and it was delicious!  Definitely the hit of the weekend food wise.  My brother decided to give me our grandfather's box call.  I had no idea Chris had this, and I didn't even know my grandfather hunted turkey.  I knew he was a big squirrel hunter.  How cool!  The call was stamped 1958!  It sounded great too.  I decided I would use it the rest of the trip.

The next morning I decided to hunt the back side of the mountain walking from camp.  It was warm and I was hunting in a light t shirt pretty much.  I was ¼ of the way up the mountain as it was getting light and I finally heard some gobbling off to the left and up high.  So, I headed in that general direction going up a hogback between two creek bottoms. I would sneak a bit, make a few soft clucks with grandpas box, and scan the trees and listen.  I finally got up to within sight of the ridge top.  The gobbling was still going on when I heard the gunshot.  Then all was quiet.  I was approaching the last bench before the top, and I had planned to sit up there and wait.  While I was about 100 yards short, I made my couple clucks and listened...then continued to the bench edge.  I found a good-sized tree and sat down against it, took grandpas call out of my pocket and placed it on my leg and settled in.  I was about to make my first calling sequence when I hear steps over my right shoulder.  I was pretty sure I would see a deer standing there, but 45 yards away was a blue headed Tom!  I felt the need to get to my knees and turn to raise the gun, looking back I should have simply shifted the gun and shot him with my left hand (now that I am bow shooting left this would be easy). As I turned it saw me and started running before cruising down the mountain!  You dolt, you blew it again.  Why can't I be patient and think. I figured this bird heard my last call and was scanning down the slope that way, I bumbled into a great opportunity.  Anyway, it was great to have that chance!  The others saw no birds.

On the way out I found a great high mountain meadow with a nice, trail that had turkey sign all over it.  I sat there for a bit and had a huge donkey doe walk by me with 2 yearlings. She passed by in bow range and I had some excitement thinking it was a turkey coming up the hill.  

Back at camp I thawed out 2 bags of pheasant and chukar legs, and slow cooked them in the dutch oven with potatoes to soak up the gravy.  Yum!

At this point our friends Dave and Evan decided to cancel and would not be joining us.  Jeff had to leave, so it was just my friend Brent and I in the tipi, and Chris and Walter in his camper.  In MD you can't hunt after noon, and I didn't feel like going back to the scum stream so we just shot bows, drank coffee (and some nightcaps), and shot the bull that evening.

The next morning, I had a plan to carry my two good decoys up the road to that nigh mountain meadow.  Chris and Walter were supposed to be hunting near camp, and they left out well ahead of me.  I finally got my stuff together and at first light started hearing gobbles up on the hill.  I was high tailing it up the forest trail to the meadow when I came up on Walter!  I asked him where he was going and he said he changed his mind and went towards the gobbles and he planned to go in my spot.  I told him I would continue up the trail towards the top above him, but had no idea now where I would go set up.  I was a little miffed, and even more so, when above I came to a hogback that had a series of cliffs across it, with no way to cross.  By this time I was a sweaty mess, was fuming, and had no idea where to go.  I back tracked across the mountain away from the gobbles we heard.  

Then divine providence hit and I heard a gobble relatively close by below me!  I looked around and I was on the edge of a little wooded bench in some pine grove.  I scanned for an area to set up my decoys when I heard another gobble down there and it sounded louder!  I hastily chose an open spot on the edge of the bench where something from below might see my decoys and put in the hard plastic realistic jake and the other pretty detailed hen out from my old military C bag I carried them in.  I looked around and saw one of the only tree trunks big enough to provide some cover, and scratched out the leaves, sat on my C bag, and put up the gun towards my decoys.  Because of the bench I could not see anything coming up, but if something popped up it should be in range.  I took out grandfather's call and made 3 yelps and the Tom sounded off in response.  I waited a few seconds and repeated, and he also responded.  I put down the call, shouldered gun and waited knowing he knew exactly where I was now.  Sitting up against the tree with my elbows on my knees I was frozen using my full peripheral vision to scan for movement in the eerie silence.  I had the muzzle pointed towards the decoys and time seemed to drag by quietly.  

Then I saw a white head pop up about 12 feet from my decoys... He appeared to be strutting, but I could not see anything but the head at this point due to him being below the bench.  He was stepping closer to my dekes when I trained the bead of my shotgun on his head and followed.  He stopped sideways and there was a branch across my field of vision between us that ran sideways.  I saw him look towards me over this stick, and then his head raised seemingly 6 or 7 inches like he was extending an extension ladder.  I feared he saw something he didn't like, so I put the bead just under his chin and squeezed loose my shot! I instantly knew he was hit as he rolled backwards, but then whirled and began to fly.  I struggled to get to my feet and pump another shell into the Remington as I ran to the edge of the bench I lost sight of him behind.  I stopped for a milli-second, but saw nothing so I ran down the hillside another 25 yards and stopped to look and listen.  I heard what could only be described as a gurgling of blood cackle that sounded like it was in the trees nearby, but I saw and heard nothing further.  I listened intently...thought I might hear blood drops falling, hear a 35-pound bird crash against the ground, or at least signs of running or flapping.  Nothing.

After a while I started my search. 

The woods were still very sparse, and I could see much of the open forest floor at any given point.  I scanned with binos and started searching in a wide circle looking up and down.  Eventually, I went back up to the decoys and found lots of promising blood splatter, a few feathers...he was definitely hit and since all I could see was head and neck....  how?!  I saw that I had peppered that horizontal branch a bit between us too.  I started an exhaustive search of the area in grid patterns.  I searched for several hours and traveled around ¼ mile in radius with never another sign.  I checked out hollow logs, holes, cavities of tree trunks...everything.

Reflecting back, I did everything right this time.  The only thing I could even think of is maybe shooting higher a touch, but before my gun patterned a bit high.  I paced off the shot at 37 steps.  Nothing but head and neck.  He should be dead on the ground in front of me, but that is hunting I guess.  Makes up for that other unlucky bird I got with only 2 pellets in the neck I suppose...  hurts though.  Anyway, it was a good learning experience on pressured public land.  Not sure if I will get a chance after them again with my busy schedule.  Chris and Walter are going back this week to try again.

Wrangled A lunker Rainbow and a Tight Lining Schooling

Sunday was windy and colder as a cold front approaches.  I had the chance to head out back to the bigger creek where the stockers are.  I knew the DNR had put a couple bigger ones in there with rumors of 26 plus inch fish.  I also knew on a Sunday it would be busy and hoped the weather would hold back a few.

When I got there, there were fisherman lining the bank so I went on the opposite side and found an area away from my competition.  I immediately caught a small rainbow on the midge, but was having trouble getting deep enough with the slightly swollen currents and the wind.  I lost a fly to the trees when my deep spot opened up, and I went back across the river to it.

I started to catch a few fish and was working on my 5 fish limit, but it was going slow.  I did have a slightly bigger fish at 13 inches.  Then I saw a guy wading in the spot I just left.  He was tight lining as well and I watched him pull in one fish after another!  He caught like 8 fish in 15 minutes (he was releasing them all) and I had been there for about an hour with only 3 fish.  That was humbling, but I was still doing better than all the spin folks I could see.  Humbling though for sure.

Finally, I switched to a chartreuse heavy mop fly on the point to get down and I nailed a 14 inch rainbow which gave me a great fight.  I got back into position and lost my dropper midge on a rock, so I only had the garish green mop fly on now.  I think that let me get a bit deeper perhaps, but I nice fish was hooked!  This thing had a paddle for tail!  It was a fight.  At this point no one was around, so I fought him well and got him landed with heart pounding.  I snapped a pic for AI before depositing him in my lunchbox creel. (Maybe I need to get an old school whicker one?). I stopped using a stringer because too many people were seeing me catch stuff and crowding me out LOL.  It was a heavy fish!  I ended up getting my last fish for the limit of 5 around hour 2.5.  

The big one was weird.  It was only 17 ¼ inches long but weighed 3 pounds 7 oz.  It didn't qualify as a MD trophy to my surprise.  My last fish was 23 inches and didn't weigh that much!  It was a football stuffed with eggs.

Well, so much for the AI tech.  It said it was 19 plus inches and over 4 pounds... that thing is just not reliable on bigger fish.

This work week is short.  I need to pack because after my hockey game Wed night, I get 4 hours sleep and I will be driving to hunt turkey and camp through Saturday morning!  I can't wait.  Should be a good camp.  know my brother will be there with the camper, our friend Jeff, my friend Brent, and fellow Sunset shooter Evan should also arrive.  I will have my tipi as not enough time for the wall tent.  I can't wait!  I quote the great Bocephus, "I need a little time off for bad behavior...I've been too good for too long"!

Wild Brown Trout - A Trip to Beaver Creek

Saturday was the opener of turkey season, but alas I was not able to get out.  I had to bring my son to TKD leadership class at 9 and then drop him off at scouts for a campout at 11am.

Then, I was driving a half hour West to fish a small stream that holds wild browns for about an hour while my wife was at a lunch date with a previous coworker.  I'll take what I can get.  This small creek was fly fishing only and catch and release.

I set out on the stream and there was one other truck in the lot.  I kept wondering why the water was a little murky, but it was because he was ahead of me wading.  I ended up catching a small wild brown right away (adipose fin was not clipped so I know it wasn't a stocker), then wrangled a small rainbow from a deep hole.  I didn't have much time and had to leave to continue on to my father-in-laws 80 birthday dinner in PA. 

I was happy with myself that I had caught a few after the other fellow had already gone through above me.

Deer Soap -Another Reason to Butcher Your Own

When I am fortunate enough to kill a deer with my primitive longbow setup, I am increasingly using more and more of the deer.  This last year was challenging, yet I was still able to get a flintlock doe off of public land.  I consolidated the fat trimmings from my previous two deer, and now with three deer's worth of fat, I was ready to make some soap.

Since I butcher my own meat, making a separate pile of fat trimmings was easy.  I had three piles going of trimmed meat/fat.  One pile was for the grinder and consumption, one was where the fatty pieces went, and a third was for bloodshot and less desirable trimmings for my sister's cat.  I simply froze or refrigerated these piles in ziplock bags until it was time to process them.

The first step is to render the fat out of the trimmings.  This is the easy step.  All you need to do is add a few cups of water to a slow cooker, and dump in your fat, and walk away for a few hours.  Slow cook for 5-8 hours and then strain out the cracklings and meaty bits in a strainer lined with cheese cloth or an old t-shirt.  Put the strained mixture into a pot and allow it to chill.  I put the pot in the refrigerator, or you can put it outside if it is winter. 

After the tallow disk has solidified, remove it and scrape away all the little bits from the underside with a knife.  I will do this process a second time by melting all the tallow, then chilling and scraping again until you have this nice white disk of tallow.  When I had a second or third deer, I would just render the entire thing again.  The more times you render it the more contaminants you get out, until you have a nice white disk.

I just kept this disk in the refrigerator, but next time I will pour it into canning jars the last render for easier storing and rendering when it is time to make soap.  You can either melt the jars in a water bath slowly or put the mason jars in the microwave like I did this time.

The soap making process was fairly easy from internet calculators and instructions and I will not go into details about that process here.  I only had to purchase a kitchen scale to weigh out the ingredients, and I mixed everything in a bowl with a whisk.  I made my first batch with peppermint essential oil because I wasn't sure how it would smell and that is what I had on hand.  I also added a little Cerave moisturizer. I poured the hot mixture into some old candy containers for molds I kept from the trash.  The soap came out great and I have been using it daily.  Another great use for a part of the deer usually discarded.

There is not much I now leave to the foxes when I am successful.  

Here is a list and how I use it:

Heart - Yummy breakfast!

Head - Buck will be a euro mount

Hide - Tanned for buckskin or crafts

Fur on - tanned for rug, wall decor, or dyed or bleached for fly tying.

Tail - Dried and salted for flies (salt and freshwater) sometimes dyed.

Sinew - From back and legs.  Dried and kept for bow backing, arrows, repairs, and crafts

Long bones and scapula - Bone Broth

Ribs - Roasted, Eat them!  Yum

Meat - Ground, stew, roasts, steaks (canned, processed into bologna or sausage, or frozen)

Fat - Rendered for soap and maybe candles.

Scraps - ground for cat food

What I leave behind:

Guts (offal)

4 lower legs and hoofs (note* I have kept a set of hooves for selfnock re-enforcement before)

Spine and pelvic girdle.

Lower Jaw

Deer can be used in so many ways. When you are lucky enough to get one with traditional bows, it seems like a logical thing to make the most of it.