Late Firearms Public Land Hunt - Success with the Flintlock at Last

 

A Cold Camp

 

I had plans to take off work on Friday and so I would be driving up to the Mountains on Thursday evening after work to set up camp.  Camp this weekend would only consist of my fellow elk hunting bud Jeff and myself. Evan was supposed to attend but his family caught a case of Norovirus and he had to cancel.  Chris has a social engagement Friday evening, so he decided not to come and hunted local. A cold front had come up on Thursday morning and dumped cold air and some flurries up there in the hills.  There were several inches of snow forecast on Saturday afternoon, so we were between fronts and I had high hopes of deer movement. Temps were in the 20’s as I rolled into camp and set up my tipi after dark.  Jeff had come in about 5 hours before, so he had a nice fire going in his stove.  It was damned cold, and he cooked me up a nice sausage with onions and peppers for dinner after I had my tent up.  I then, set to work on prepping the longgun.  Even the big 8-man tent was too low for proper ramming of the barrel, so I went outside shortly after this photo:

I had already cleaned out all the gun oil back at home with a rinse with acetone, being careful not to get any on the stock.  I loaded the pan with a bit of FFFFg Goex and fired the pan once and it went off solidly, so my flint seemed in good shape.  I swabbed out the bore with a cleaning patch, then stuck the quill of a pheasant feather into the touch hole.  I poured down 80 grains of FFFg Goex down the barrel, then set my cleaning patch in as an over powder wad.  I have read that this may help with protecting the powder from Patch grease of the main patch and it cleans some of the powder down which may have stuck to the side walls.  Then, I started the .490 round ball with a .020 pre-lubed patch (I am still using what I inherited from my dad or otherwise I would have made my own with bear grease).  I seated the ball sprue up on the muzzle and started it with my short starter.  It was a tight fit…that is good! 

Ramming it home well I bounced the ramrod off the ball a few times to ensure I was well seated and put the rifle in the truck at half cock to stay cold, condensation may have been an issue with it in the tent. 

Preparations now being completed I went back in the tent with Jeff, had a few snorts of fine bourbon he brought and chatted about hunting and fishing until it was time to go to my tent and stick up the fire there.  Sleep was sporadic and I was up feeding the little stove about once every hour, but with temps outside in the teens it was cozy.

Here is a photo of the camp the next morning, there was no one else in camp …we had the place to ourselves;

 

A Crackling Cold Friday morning.

I got up Friday morning, as I often do, before the alarm.  I loaded up the little stove and fired up the coffee pot eating a sourdough English muffin and breakfast bar.  It had snowed and sleeted enough overnight to create a fresh coating of snow on the ground.  In this area, we have the luxury of driving up a forest road to the top of the mountain ridge, so I warmed up the truck and Jeff and I got driving.  We just had to circle around the mountain and drive up the road.  I saw only one or two sets of tracks in the fresh snow from other trucks, so that was good.  One truck was lower down, and we were heading to the top.

It was first light by the time I had my pack seat on my back and clicked the lock on the truck doors.  I had about a mile walk ahead of me, but it was fairly flat and across mountain.  The area I wanted to hunt was between the ridge and the top of a big, abandoned orchard.  The area is very thick and chocked with creeper vines in the green times.  I have seen deer almost every time I have a few hours to sit there, but getting in bow range is always the trick.  Now I had a few more yards of range to play with!  I sat under a vine chocked bush I had bow hunted from before and had a view on my right of the ridge top which was more open.  The front was the edge of the thick stuff, and down to the left was another lane to see if something comes from that way.  The wind was blowing in my face!  Always lots of squirrel in this area too.

I was set up, had my big wool heavy blanket pants on with 800 gram merino wool longjohns and a thinner merino wool base layer.  I put on my heavy plaid wool coat that I had folded in my packseat on the hike in. I had insulated over shoes on top of my heavy 1500 gram insulted boots and toe warmers in each.  I was going to be comfy sitting for a handful of hours.  I settled in with my rifle on top of a telescoping rifle stick and cozied down to watch the squirrels play.

Here is the view looking downhill, thick area to the right…

This is the view from the front where I expected deer:

The moment of Truth

I had been sitting there fairly comfortable despite the 20 degree and overcast conditions for about half an hour, when I saw movement to the right of the picture above…a white flash that at first looked like a squirrel’s tail, but I soon saw it was the white underside of a deer’s Jaw.  I raised my binos and identified the lone deer as a doe, and readied my rifle on the stick.  She was in thick stuff and quartering towards me, but I had hopes she would continue in that direction into the more open area.  I had not refreshed the powder in my pan since I sat down….would things go off without a hitch…that was also in the back of my mind.

I cocked back the hammer to full cock and waited.  She, as they commonly do, had other plans.  She was very weary and on constant high alert.  This was the final weekend of a two week gun season, as well as a week of previous muzzle loader on this highly pressured public land.  Creeping and to my dismay, she was heading to the left, and towards the impenetrable tangle of deadfall and vines.  If she kept going that way she may continue downhill and go away forever….

 

She was between 45 -50 yards away in heavy brush, I needed a window and a broadside chance at that distance.  After a bit she stepped into a narrow view where I saw the front leg.  I clicked back the set trigger, and steadied on that spot just behind the shoulder with the very top of the front blade. The hair trigger was a surprise and the smoke filled BOOOOM echoed down the mountainside.  Through the smoke I see her big white tail up and running a bit to the right.

I first saw her in the square and she ended up in the star when I fired:

 

Half the battle was won.  The rifle fired without a delay.  Now the other half was in question…did I make a hit?  And did I imagine a crashing sound after she had run off?

Blood on the ground?

I reloaded the front stuffer from the horn and loading block and kicked off my overshoes.  I went to where I thought she was standing, but saw no sign of blood or hair…Oh no.  I decided to circle back to the right where I thought she went…nothing.  I started to panic.

Then I went back to the shot site and searched again a little farther back.  There, I saw blood.  Dark and red and frozen on the heads of The matted tan week seed heads and grass.  It was so cold the blood froze almost on contact with the ground in star pattens.

It wasn’t great blood, but it was steady and I could follow it fairly well.  The doe ran straight away from me as it turns out and traveled quite a ways after being struck.  I was about 70 yards after the hit area, when I crossed a rocky short wall of rocks that began an area of thick laurel.  I crept slowly at the ready in case she decided to jump up still alive.  Then, I heard walking to my right.  A line of 7-8 does was approaching!  The lead doe was large and offered my a quick chance at about the same 50 yard distance through brush as the one I was trailing.  I cocked back the hammer but a feeling of cautiousness rolled over me as I was recreating a shot that maybe wasn’t the best, and doing so freehand.  Should I shoot?  She helped me answer as the window closed and they all flowed by me nervously never a clear shot in the open.  I really didn’t want to deal with another iffy shot when I had one down that I may still not find…or may.

After they had gone I eased the hammer back and continued to follow easy blood.  Then about 15 yards farther down, maybe 8o yards from the shot, I see her laying there. 

A nice fat adult doe, and about a perfect double lung shot.

 

The area made it clear that she had expired very quickly and maybe that was her crashing I heard not long after the shot.  The trail reminded me of a bow kill.

There was splatter on a nearby tree trunk in that star pattern as the blood froze on contact.

 

I was very happy, and now I could use the packout bags for the first time.  I wasn’t about to drag this doe out of the woods for a mile back to the truck.  I searched my pocket for the yellow folding knife that Nate gifted me to start skinning, but I had left it in my other pants.  Oh well, I pulled out my newly acquired Green River hunter I had under my coat and around my neck as a neck knife and it did a careful job skinning as I began the gutless method.  I had my first chance to use my TAG game bags and Pack out bags.  Alas not on an elk, and when I unfolded the pack out bags, I found the shoulder plastic supports were dry rotted and cracking LOL.  I wanted the hide on this to tan, so I was careful not to cut any holes.  I found out that all I needed was 2 big elk bags, as I could put a hind quarter and a front from each side in each bag.  Then I used a smaller nag for the loins, tender loins, and all the neck, skirt meat, and rest of the trimmings. It all went fairly smoothly, and I found teasing out the tenderloins to be easier than I thought it would be.  I did forget about the heart in all the excitement, only remembering it halfway back to the truck.  Dang!  I never cracked open the chest to get at it and forgot.

I had a pretty balanced load with a leg bag in both the front and back with the hide rolled up in front and the scrap/loin back in back.  I slung this over my waldrop seat and started on my walk back.  This is when I wished I didn’t have those heavy insulated boots!  I made it about a ¼ of the way before I had to make my first break, but it was MUCH easier than trying to drag all that way.  From there I made many stops to catch my breath and my hamstrings were streaming by the time I got back to the clearcut.

Jeff was supposed to be waiting for me there and he was.  But when I got closer he waved me to stop!  He apparently had spotted something way down the powerline and was trying to acquire the target with his high tech suppressed 6.5 PRC rifle (yeah I had to look that up) but after a while I heard no shot and he waved me in.  Apparently, he was waiting for me and playing on his phone when he looked up and saw a deer moving down below in thick cover.  He got in position to shoot and lost sight of it for good.  At least it gave me a chance to rest.

Got back to the truck and headed back to camp.

Victory is sweet - tasting!

Back at camp, we warmed up and I shared some of my award winning (yes, I came in 3^rd place at my work chili cook off) venison chili and enjoyed some camp camaraderie.  I decided that because I was now “hunting horns” as my brother would say, I would use my old new to me 30-30 with scope the rest of the hunt.  This zone only allows one doe and one buck so I was now only hunting antlered bucks.   I had never killed anything with this old marlin lever gun that I bought from Mike, who inherited it from his father.  I figured the extra range and optics might be good to see antlers way out there if necessary.  I don’t hunt with it much so here we go.

That evening (Friday) we hunted around camp.  We knew the traffic was increasing and Saturday morning would be filled with other hunters for the weekend.  It was the last day of gun season.  Jeff had a doe in his sights again, but this time he decided to stop it with a bleet before shooting as it was walking.  The crafty doe took 2 more steps and stopped behind a tree.  That was all for that opportunity!  I didn’t see anything that evening and didn’t last long as I just put on my beaners with no toe warmers. I got back to camp to stoke a good fire and fry up some strap medallions completed with boiled small potatoes.  We ate in the hot tent again like kings with a few Modelo and some more of that bourbon.  I was a happy camper and my legs were feeling it! 

 

The next morning would be our last to hunt and I planned to hunt around the camp again as to avoid the crush of hunters up on the ridge.  It was again a very cold night but clear stars out…tomorrow a cold front..4-6 inches here starting around 3pm.  The deer should be moving!  Would the old lever gun see action? 

The Final Countdown 

Woke up again before the alarm.  Jeff was slow to rise, but I had some sourdough muffins and coffee ready in short order.  That damned little stove had the tent so hot, I had to leave the flap open to eat my chow.   We headed out to hunt and I knew of a little ridge overlook that had some real thick stuff, an open field behind, and I had seen good sign there before.  I was stillhunting my way up to the top thinking to myself how nice the little rifle slung over my shoulder was as I had my hands stuffed into my pockets.  It was quiet out but every minute or so, the stillness was shattered by rifle shots from across the road up on that ridge.  The deer were really taking a beating this morning.  Deer were apparently indeed moving!  As I neared the edge of the field I spotted orange sitting right below where I planned to set down.  Dang!  Plan B, I backed down and out and doubled back towards the access road to a handicapped spot a mile or so down. 

The road ran a ridge and there was a steep hillside on each side.  I got down about a half mile from the hunter and sat with my back to a trunk and watched the adjacent hill.  My plan was to sit here and around 8:30am move back to the other side as Jeff was hunting over that side and he said he had to return to camp at 9am.  He may push something perhaps.

I was sitting there and it was still…Rifle shots still sounded like the battle of Lexington was going on over the hill.  Then, I heard deer steps…you know a little different than squirrels.  I strained to see on the other hill but couldn’t see anything for the longest time.

Then I saw the deer.  It was big bodied, head down, and had a deep chest.  I thought it may be a buck.  Dropped the binos and raised up the 4x scope.  Spotting it I cocked the hammer and tried to see any sign of antlers.  It was about 160 yards away on the adjacent hillside and in some thicker cover.  I had it go behind a closer trunk and waited for it to emerge out of the other side, still unsure if it was a buck or doe.  Then it pulled a Houdini and disappeared like deer sometimes do at that range.  Never heard it or saw it again!

Dang, I was betting it was a buck and it came from the direction of up top near where the other hunter was.  I should have been down the hill closer.

At 8:30am I switched sides and by 9am nothing was coming so I headed back up to the road.  There I saw the other hunter from up top who stopped to chat with me.  He told me he had "walked around up there all morning and not kicked out anything."  I chuckled.  He also said he had 500 acres he had permission to hunt on private land, but he just felt like trying the public and leaving that area to his brother and his son to hunt.  Ugh, I could bet he was from PA also.  The mountain was crowded.

Anyway, that was all the action.  Jeff didn’t see a thing. We packed up ahead of the snow and left.  Back home I had a bunch of meat to process. I awoke the next day to several inches of snow on the ground and made myself busy boning out meat,  rendering tallow, getting ready to make some bone broth, marinating some fresh jerky, and getting gear cleaned and put away.

Next weekend is the start of a week-long muzzleloader season and I am hoping the landowner will let me hunt that hay farm with it.  He has seen some heavy coyote action in recent days so I told him I would shoot that as well if seen!  I hope he says yes and the wife does too LOL.

Then it is back to bow until the end of January

 

 

 

 

 

Introducing the "Doe Bug" Fly and the First Test Trip

 Las week I was doing some shopping at an online fly-fishing supplier when I saw a product called "biothread".  To me it looked like synthetic deer sinew, and I googled up some patterns tied with it.  The resulting flies looked really good as the material becomes translucent when it is wetted showing the colors of the body below.  The twisted-up thread makes a nice, segmented body.  I figured why buy that when I have a plenty of deer sinew that I have been saving from my past deer harvests. 

I began to experiment, and I really liked the results.  I liked the orange or pink under thread color for the body, and I added another of my favorite fly attributes the soft hackle of the starling.  Thes result if a fly I call the "Doe  Bug".  Made of natural materials it mimics the sow bugs and scuds I have prevalent on some of my streams at times.  I was excited about this pattern and tied up a supply with varying weights for the bead.

I wanted to try these out!  Saturday morning's deer hunt was thwarted by some Boy Scout obligations, and there were some breezy conditions expected.  I thought about an evening deer hunt, but decided to try to hit the stream instead and try out these flies.

The state had stocked some leftover brown trout several weeks ago, so I knew there should be some left.  The stream was low and clear and there were plenty of other fisherman giving the fish steady pressure. I found a deep fast run and set up a two-nymph rig with my Doe Bug on the bottom and a small frenchie midge on the dropper above.  

On the third drift I was greeted with a nice brown on the Doe Bug.  I landed him and was thrilled I had luck on my new pattern, and I might have the start of a good day!  

I spend the next three hours fishing hard but never had another hit.  I tried lots of patterns including mops, san juans, as well as traditional nymph patterns.  No dice.  I did give the Doe bug a decent opportunity, but the fish were just not feeding well.  I saw no one else land a fish.  The nightcrawler guy gave me his lone fish before he left which was kind.  I had enough for a meal for the evening...and it was good.

I really like the new pattern and will be tying more for the spring.  I now direct my full attention to the Rut.

2025 Public Land Bear and Deer Camp

Annual fall camp on public land in Western Maryland.  

This year I was camping from Tuesday through Saturday, and my brother Chris had drawn a bear tag and added my friend Evan and myself as co-hunters on the tag.  I would have preferred to camp at a more western WMA we frequent, but I had some obligations back home that necessitated a closer camp with good cellular access. 

The camp this year would consist of my brother's camper, fresh from our Idaho elk trip, and my 12x14 foot wall tent nestled against the backdrop of changing fall foliage. 

Attendance this year was light.  Camp attendees included my brother, Dan, and I.  That is all that could come.  Needless to say, I had plenty of food during the week!

The hunting pressure during the week was heavy.  I was constantly running into rifle toting bear hunters.  I walked up 3 feet from one fellow before I got his attention.  One morning I headed a mile in before light to get to the end of this road to hunt.  My bother talked to two older bear hunters that arrived later and they stated they were going to head down that same road.  My brother warned them I was set up all the way at the end.  Well, the one guy went ahead and set up there anyway.  Unbeknownst to me for most of the morning he was on the ridge about 80 yards behind me!  He would have quickly shot a bear out from under me and probably didn't see me.  I spotted orange when I was repositioning later and move smartly away.  Maddening, but that is public land.  

Despite the hunting challenges, it was still a fun camp.  I did have a nice doe pass within 50 yards of me one evening, but that is still a good poke with a traditional bow.  Dan and I enjoyed the campfire and thought about maybe moving to another area next year to escape the pressure. 

2025 Idaho Panhandle Elk Hunt

Three of us attempted to draw Idaho tags this year, my brother and I got our 3rd choice and were able to hunt together.  Our other friend Dave got the first choice and had to hunt alone.  We missed him.  

We had a little more luxury this year, as my brother decided to drive out his camper.  

Here a spatchcocked Cornish hen is nestled in a dutch oven with potatoes.

We had a few areas scout via maps and hoped to get into elk.  We were hunting the unit we had hunted numerous times before in the early 2015-2017 time period with the same scenario.  Elk were there but there were not many and there was lots of pressure. 

Some fresh sign finally after the first (and last) move of camp.

Here is a large shed I found one morning hiking up the mountain.

My only chance to fill a tag was on a pair of black bears I walked up on.  I was worried they were cubs with mom, so I only took photos, but looking back they were full grown and on their own.

My brother had an opportunity on a spike bull, but missed at approximately 45 yards.  I only see ears in the photo, but he says it had a velvet ball on one side and spike on the other.

I never saw elk until the last full day of the hunt.  I was climbing the mountain and glanced over to see two cows feeding near the top meadow.  I went after them and got above them, but not knowing how close I was to them, one caught me sneaking at around 20 yards and crashed away.  The thick brush prevented me from even seeing them close.

At the same time my brother was into a mature bull.  He was within 60-70 yards, but could not get close enough.  He tried some calling but the bull paid them no heed and wandered away. I tried to close and did some bugling but it was not meant to be. 

The clip below shows the fine bull my brother could only close to 60 yards from.

Oh so close!

It was another fine trip and try at elk.  Maybe next year will be lucky as it will be my 15th try for them.

Elk Hunting Arrows - Two builds This Year

Elk season this year is fast approaching for me.  My brother and I will be hunting in Northern Idaho again this year.  This year will be a little different as my brother plans on driving out his camper, while I fly in to meet him.  He also promises to bring his Chesapeake Bay retriever, which will be interesting for him to deal with. I am packing in preparation for a solo hunt should something happen, or if I need to bivy out away from his camper.  Being Prepared is always good but the area we are in is crisscrossed with roads, trails, and accesses.  This will be no wilderness hunt, and we will need to contend with the ATV hunting crowd. 

In preparation I began building some hunting arrows.  My first plan was to use a group of very straight bamboo I had culled from a lot of 100 shafts.  These were the straightest and all spined around 65 pounds.  I had mostly white fletching and already had some white rustoleum so my color scheme will pretty mush guarantee some snow on the ground!  The finished arrows with ace broadheads weighed about 600 grains.

Meanwhile, I was eying up 2 dozen old lodgepole pine shafts I had in the corner from a ways back.  These were 23/64th diameter and spined 70-75.  With both of my 60-pound hunting bows I have been drawing about 28 1/4 inches and liked to touch my finger at full draw with the back of the broadhead.  This meant a 29 BOP arrow was most comfortable currently.  That length was requiring a stiffer arrow so I decided to make up some of the pine shafts and see how they performed.

I used my angle iron jig to tail taper them down to 11/32 diameter from about 8 inches, then I point tapered them similarly forabout4 inches, ending in a barrel tapered arrow retaining as much spine as I could preserve.  These shot superbly and I even decided to splice some yellow into the cock feather. Pointed with Ace standards the finished weight is around 650 grains.  More importantly, the feel was appealing.  They seemed to have a little more "life" in them than the bamboo.  

The knife in the photo was also a little gift Nate Steen sent me.  He found some old stock case yellow knives like Mr. Hill used to use.  I told him I would use it to butcher an elk should I be lucky enough to get one this year.  I am hoping that will be the case. 

I took a little trip the last week of summer to Hershey Park, and spent some time ogling a huge bull and cow they had.  More importantly I tried to imprint the smell.  The season is upon us and soon the arrow will lie beside the bow in anticipation of our quarry.  

Susquehanna River Blue Cats and some Bonus Striper

My brother and I went out on the Susquehanna river Saturday morning.  The cats were a challenge on the fly rod as I had trouble getting the large chicken bait deep enough unless we were drifting with it.  Yes, I was using bait with a fly rod and sinking line.  I just wanted to catch some big blue cats and they are not receptive to the fly.  I managed to catch 3 or 4, 5-6 pounders in total on the 8wt though but none of the big ones.  We got into the stripers in one pool.  Saw the gulls working the surface and despite it being 1230pm, I caught 2 on my tied chartreuse and white deceiver after fishing most of the morning with the "game changer" fly I tied.  Lefty knew something about that fly!  It was a heck of a battle to catch a 22-inch striper on the 5 wt trout rod I can tell you!  

So, we limited out on stripers again.  I hooked up a nice sized (4 pound smallmouth as well I released).  Great fight again.

Then we were finishing up on the last deep hole before our take-out spot.  Chris was on the phone with his friend Dave giving him an update when a "big un" hit Chris's spin bait.  He was fighting that and I was trying to work the net free when another 5-6 pounder picked up my fly line on the 8 wt.  There we were spinning downstream with a double on each side of the canoe!  We managed to get both in the net without losing them. The cooler could fit no more fish at this point and we were done!

What a day.  I spend Sunday trimming and processing catfish for the freezer.  Had a great blackened striper lunch.  Yum.  What a time on the water.

Fly Fishing Stripers on the Susquehanna River

I took a vacation day off on Friday to head to the Susquehanna River below the dam my grandfather helped construct to try for stripers.  The season is winding down as the water temperatures rise, and the regulations allow one fish between a narrow slot limit of 17-24 inches.  My goal was to hook up a striper on the fly.  Luckily my brother is a local to the river and knows all the deep holes where these fish hang out.  This was his first trip of the year for him as well, due to the amount of upstream rain and water conditions that have kept the river high and chocolate for most of the spring.

I arrived at my brother's house at 7am and planned to launch canoes and float and fish downstream. My brother and I were in one canoe and only used fly fishing gear, while Chris's friend Dave was solo in a second canoe using spinning equipment.   I had my 8 wt rod with sinking line, about a 4-foot tapered leader ending in a 10-pound test mono tippet as the water was still a tinge off color.  I was mainly using unweighted Lefty Deceiver patterns in a chartreuse green large variation approximately 5 inches long with a 1/0 long shanked hook I tied.  Here are some replacements I tied after the trip as I lost 3 flies to snags.  Lefty used to joke on a few videos I saw of him striper fishing, "If it aint chartreuse, it aint no use" and that was true again today.

The weather started out overcast as we began fishing and I missed a hit that swirled the top not long after I started casting.  Chris was doing all of the paddling leaving me to fish.  We rounded the bottom side of an island and I was casting slightly upstream and across when I got a hit.  Having a bit of upstream slack in the line I didn't get the Hook set I wanted but I was fighting a good-sized fish for about 10 or 12 seconds ending in the fly pulling out.  

I was bummed, but excited as I was getting the action on the fly.  Our spin fishing friend missed one as well by this point I believe.

Chris was using a smaller clouser and was hooking up on rocks a good bit, but shortly he had landed the first fish.  It was a keeper at 17 inches so we put it in the cooler.  

We were taking our time picking our way along the bottom of rapids where Chris knew there were deeper holes.  I snatched up a decent sized smallmouth that hit the big fly.

We caught up with Dave, who was not having any luck besides a couple pound catfish he caught on a spinner when Chris put us in a known hotspot he knew.  He was paddling us up in while I was casting across until the canoe speed pulled the fly.  I was dragging my deceiver just about to lift for another cast when it was sucked down in a swirl.  I set the hook and the fight was on.  I landed it in short order, and the tape said just above 17 inches.  We could have kept it but already had a keeper in the cooler and this would be it, so we decided to release it in the hopes of a bigger one.

I was thrilled!  

We decided to go back up and float that hole again.  Shortly I was hooked up again!  This one gelt a little bigger and had bigger shoulders.  It was a battle but I had him in to net.  This one taped out to 20 inches and we put him in the cooler.  We were now fishing for fun as everything from then on must be released.

As the morning moved to afternoon, the sun came out and the fishing slowed.  Still Chris managed to wrestle another undersized striper before we hit the pickup point.  

We came out pretty well and had a blast.  This was one of the few trips where the flyrods out fished the spinning gear as we had 4 stripers to one blue catfish landed.