Welcome To Deer Camp (1996)

The coffee's on. Don't bother wiping your boots clean; nobody
else does.

     Minnesota's deer season opened Saturday and it was just nice to
be back in the woods again.

     No phones, no car traffic, no crowds.

     Dawn oozed through the popple tops. And before a brisk and
biting northwest wind forced the ear muffs on, the woods were full
of nifty, natural sounds.

     A few opening day thoughts from the tree stand by the swamp:

     How can a running red squirrel - weighing mere ounces - sound
like a 200-pound buck deer prancing behind your back?

     The opening hour was periodically interrupted by distant
gunfire. Sometimes it sounds as if you're the only one who hasn't
seen a deer?

     Why does one's nose run?

     The woods were still very dark, just a hint of light in the
east, when seven of us left camp Saturday. We were bonded with
anticipation; each carried his own visions of big bucks in the cross
hairs.

     Deer camp attendance was about the same:  John Larson of
Burnsville and his son, Scott. Brother Rick Schara, of North St.
Paul, brother Robert, of Hutchinson and nephew, Steve Schara, of
Andover.

     A first-time deer hunter, Jay Epping of Coon Rapids, has joined
the party, eager to learn and discover the mystique and mystery of
the whitetail.

     It didn't take long. Epping had a doe and fawn walk by. He
watched them lift their keen noses and flick their sharp ears.

     By 8 a.m., a little reality frosted the cheeks and fingertips.
Whitetail hunting is the most challenging hunt on this side of the
oceans. The woods are thick and a whitetail can disappear with one
step, one bound. Heck, sometimes you can't see them when they're
standing right in full view. An amazing animal, the whitetail.

     The wind picked up, the sun was gone behind clouds and snow
showers added atmosphere to the bleakness of a November woods.

     Over the hill and through a swamp, Scott Larson was sitting in
a spot that I discovered last year. It's a bottleneck of thick brush
between two grassy swamps. The place just looked deerish.

     And it was.

     Scott saw three deer in the morning, including two that were
being stalked by a coyote. It was a nifty natural play to watch, he
said. Scott couldn't see antlers so he didn't join the coyote on the
hunt.

     Lots of Minnesota deer hunters were only looking for antlers
Saturday. It was bucks-only hunting in Zone 1 this year to give the
herd a chance to recover from last winter's losses.

     In our deer camp, it wouldn't be a change as we chose to hunt
bucks-only. If anything, it means you always have an excuse for
getting skunked.

     By 9 a.m. the sound of gunfire was almost totally absent, a
surprise since the season was barely two hours old.

     Maybe the deer weren't moving. Maybe the number of hunters was
down.

     By 10 a.m., I was convinced the deer were not moving much in
the wind. I had not seen a hint of deer, and that did not change
through the noon hour.

     But my optimism wasn't shaking like the dried oak leaves
rattling by my head. A buck would come by, sooner or later. The
woods were full of buck sign - ground scrapes and rubs. In fact, it
seemed as if there was more deer sign than a year ago.

     My time with the whitetail would come, I figured. My stand
adjoined a giant red pine that whispered to me in the breeze. The
ol' tree has seen many big bucks walk past. The ol' tree whispered
to me, "Not to worry. Enjoy your view, enjoy the hunt, enjoy
life."

     That's what deer opening day is all about, I agreed to the
tree.

     Maybe tomorrow, something with antlers shall come by.

Minnesotans and the Amazing, Techni-nosed WHITE-TAILED DEER (1994)

In Minnesota these days, there are deer in the boondocks and
deer in the suburbs.  There are deer in cornfields and deer in
backyards.

     Never in history have so many Minnesotans lived so close to so
many whitetail deer.

       On Saturday, some 430,000 deer hunters will head into fields
and forests for the 1994 deer season.

     These are good times to be a hunter or, for that matter, a
deer.  The hunt renews and rekindles a centuries old symbiotic
relationship - from Cave Man days to the present - and one that
shows no signs of ebbing as America nears the 21st Century.

     As ecologist Ernest Thompson Seaton once observed, "The
whitetail is the American deer of the past and the American deer of
the future."

     THE WHITETAIL

     If nature were a carmaker, the white-tailed deer would be the
dream machine.

     Sleek design and graceful styling.  Easily not seen.

     Quick acceleration: zero to 35 miles per hour in an instant.
Able to leap 8-foot fence or a 30-foot span in a single bound.
Heart rate is slower than human's at rest (40 to 50 beats per
minute) but can zoom to 200 beats in less than one second.

     Supremely fine-tuned.

     Silent:  Communicates with other deer largely by secretions
from set of four external glands.  Two are located on legs, one by
the eye and one between the hooves.  Also grunts, bawls or snorts,
however.

     Special features:  Swims like a fish.  Never gets cold feet.
Vegetarian. Jaws hold 32 teeth, except incisors and canines are
missing in upper jaw.      Mystical powers:  Has ability to sound in
the woods like a herd of buffalo.  Or a ghost.

     BACK TRAILS

     The whitetail played an important role in early American
history, including the first Thanksgiving in 1621 was it the first?
at Plymouth Colony which featured venison provided by Wampanoag
chief, Massasoit.

     From deer, native Indians and later, European settlers, were
supplied with food, clothing, tools, weapons, toys, ceremonial dress
and even romance.  In various tribes, native men wore deer parts for
courtship in seeking a wife.

     The Sioux word for whitetail is tahca or tahinca, which
translates to "true and real meat.  The Dakotah Sioux hunted buffalo
but their basic diet and the meat they depended on the most was
venison.

     In 1766, Jonathan Carver, in writing about the Mississippi
River valley between Wisconsin and Minnesota, said, "The land
betwixt the mountains (bluffs) and on their sides is generally
covered with grass with a few groves of trees interspersed near
which large droves of deer and elk are frequently seen feeding."

     DEER DOLDRUMS

     The Minnesota deer season was cancelled in 1971.  Twenty years
later, the deer population reached an all-time high.

     It's happened before.

     At the turn of the century, Minnesota's deer count probably hit
a historical low caused by market hunting by white settlers and
Indians.  Deer were valued for meat and hide.  In December of 1872,
six tons of deer hides (one month's shipment) were sent East from
Litchfield, Minn.

     Fur traders would swap one rifle for 30 to 35 deer skins.

     In fact, the neologism "a buck" (referring to one dollar)
originated in Colonial times from the exchange value of a deer
hide.

     Minnesota's first big game laws were set in 1858, establishing
a hunting season from Sept. 1 to Jan. 31.

     A deer bag limit of five per person was set in 1895.  Four
years later, the first deer license was required, costing $.25c for
residents and $25 for nonresidents.

     Interestingly, 100 years later - 1994 - a Minnesotan once again
may legally take five deer under DNR's bonus deer permit system this
fall.

     DEER TRACKS

     Can you tell buck tracks from doe tracks?   Nope.

     Experienced deer hunters swear it's possible but there's no
scientific evidence that supports the claim.  There is a size
difference between buck and doe hooves but a young buck may appear
to have doe-sized feet.

     Don't bucks drag their feet in snow?  Yes and no.

     The only way to tell buck and doe tracks is to see who's making
them.

     THOSE ANTLERS

     A buck deer sports antlers, not horns.  Horns are derived from
hair; a deer's antlers are true bone and represent the only
regenerated living tissue in entire animal kingdom.

     Only male whitetails have antlers.

     Antlers start growing in April, mature in September and fall
off in late winter.  Size and shape of antlers depends on a variety
of factors, including nutrition, age, genetics and physical
damage.

     What happens to discarded antlers?  Most are quickly chewed and
eventually eaten by rodents, such as mice and squirrels.

     DEER ADMIRERS?

     The state's largest collection of deer supporters is the 20,000
member Minnesota Deer Hunter's Association, 2820 S. Hwy. 169, Grand
Rapids, Minn. 55744.  In the last two decades, the organization has
contributed millions to enhance the deer's future in the state.

     BUCKSKIN TRIVIA

     What's a deer worth?  Good question.  The state's 500,000 deer
hunters (firearm and archery) annually spend more than $11 million
on licenses and $63 million on hunting equipment.

     In 1993, state deer hunters donated 25,000 deer hides worth
more than $168,000 to the Minnesota Deer Hunters Association.  The
Hides For Habitat program since 1990 has generated more than
$845,000 for deer habitat projects in the state.

     DEER SURVEYS

     Counting deer is not quite like counting sheep.

     To measure the state's northern deer herd, the DNR uses a
computer population model that factors deer reproduction rates,
winter severity and hunter mortality to estimate increases or
decreases in population.

     The model is amazingly accurate.

     In most years, the DNR's computer projections of hunter
harvest, for example, are within 5 to 10 percent of the actual
number of deer registered by hunters. 

     THE RUTTING MOON

     Deer and the moon have a relationship.  New evidence suggests
the moon's position in the sky may impact deer movements more than
moon phases.  A Minnesota deer writer, Jeff Murray, is working on a
project to measure deer activity increases when the moon is directly
overhead and directly underfoot.

     A moon hunting guide is available for $11.95 (includes postage
and handling) by writing to Murray, Box 15013, Duluth, Minn. 55815. 

     HEARING

     Stand 75 yards away, downwind from a deer, and click your
fingernails:  a deer will hear.  Pair of ears move independently,
each searching for sounds of danger.

     EYES

     Sees well, day or night, with a field of vision of about 310
degrees.  A reflective layer, tapetum lucidum, behind eye allows
deer to "double expose" night images.  Color vision is not well
defined.

     SMELL

     Able to detect human odor from a distance of one-half mile.

     TALES OF DEER TAPE

     Deer are smaller than most people think.  An adult's belly is
about 20 inches from the ground.  An average buck adult is only
about 36-inches high at the shoulders and weighs about 150 pounds.

     Deer don't live long.  Average lifespan, 8 years.  A buck is
mature at age 5 and over the hill at age 7.

          The two heaviest Minnesota deer on record had an estimated
live weight of 511 pounds with a field-dressed weight of 402
pounds.

     VENISON?

     And good for you.  Lower in fat and calories than equivalent
portions of beef or pork.  No artificial hormones or flavor
enhancers.

     To eliminate "wild" flavor, soak venison in milk prior to
cooking, trim all fat, don't overcook and serve hot.

     A 150-pound deer will field dress at 120 pounds.  Cut and
butchered, the same deer will have about 85 pounds of edible
venison. 

     BUCKSLAYER

     Next to hunters, what's the most common deer predator?

     Wolves?  Cars?  Disease?

     Nope.  Man's best friend, domestic dogs.

Deer Season Thoughts To Ponder (1998)

Gather up, oh, deer hunters,
It's time for November's replay
of how to fool a wily deer
on a Minnesota opening day.
 

     There's no need to wait until dawn Saturday to realize, once
again, that in the world of the whitetail deer, we are - and I have
experienced this - an army of orange-clad klutzes.

    This is as it should be.

    Deer hunting is not like going to the meat market.

     Venison, you earn.

     In essence, that is part of the joy of deer hunting. Nothing on
four legs is quite as ghostlike as a whitetail buck. That means most
of us spend a lifetime trying to become an expert deerslayer.

    We resume the quest Saturday.

    John Eggers, who once worked at "problem solving" for an
institution of higher learning and who now writes a column for the
Bemidji Pioneer newspaper, has concluded that deer stands are really
elevated thinking stands.

    "To be a bit sane, you first have to be a bit crazy. If sitting
in a deer stand fulfills that objective, I'm happy to be counted
among the less sane people," Eggers wrote.

    "Sitting in a deer stand also teaches you about enoughness.
Indeed many deer stand sitters don't even shoot a deer. Sitting is
enough."

    Well said, I'd say.
 
Oh, whitetail, oh whitetail
If you would be so kind,
You'd bellow like a Hereford
And never use your mind.

    Now about deer hunting.

    The twins, Ted and Bud Burger, are two of the most determined
deer hunters I know. Years back, we shared many campfires where the
next day's deer strategies were devised. The Burger boys hunt hard
and enjoy going one on one with a whitetail buck.

    So, Ted Burger, what is one of the most important rules for deer
hunting?

    "Be lucky," he said, laughing. "No, seriously, it helps to be
lucky, but you also can make your own luck."

    Making luck?

    Said Bud Burger: "You study deer movements and learn the country
you're in. You look for deer sign to discover where the deer have
been. The more you know, the more luck you'll have.

    "If you're hunting new or unfamiliar country, I'd never just sit
anywhere. You must look for deer trail concentrations, look for buck
rubs and scrapes and identify where bucks have been active."

    In any woods, if there's a lack of deer sign or trails, it's
probably an unlucky spot.
 
Try luck for bucks
And buck scent, too.
When nothing else works
Try spitting in your shoe.

    More deer ploys by the Burgers:
- Play the wind: "The deer hunter's biggest mistake is not playing
the wind with your deer stand. You need two positions, really. You
can't underestimate a deer's nose," Bud Burger said.

    He said scent-lock suits are effective, and now there's even a
"breath odor eliminator," a mask to reduce halitosis made by
Mask-It, a Kansas company.

    A deer's nose is equal to that of a bloodhound.
- Scrapes are key signs: A scrape is a circular patch of ground torn
(or scraped) by a buck deer's front hooves. It is a communication
sign, indicating the buck's presence and occupied territory. Passing
female deer (as well as bucks) will come to scrapes and leave their
own urine scent.

    "The more scrapes I find in the woods tells me that there are
more bucks and more deer in the area," Bud Burger said.

    When hunting in unfamiliar woods, the best ploy is to find a
scrape or series of scrapes and hunt near them.
- Remember the mid-day movement: "Over the seasons, one of the key
hunting times for me is not at sunrise or early morning," Bud said.
"It's mid-day, from about 10:30 a.m. to 2 p.m."

    Said Ted: "Sometimes this is prime time. Too many hunters go
early in the woods, get cold, hungry or bored and leave before 10
a.m., which is when they should be settling in."
- Bad moon arisin': Minnesota's deer season will open with nearly a
full moon, which is not good news. Deer movements tend to decrease
during full moons but increase by dark moon periods. In other words,
the second weekend of the state's firearm deer season may see more
deer activity than opening weekend.
- Fire an accurate rifle: Joann Griepentrog of Moon Valley Rifle
Range in Eden Prairie has seen plenty of hot shots and poor shots
after 30 years on the range. Hunters owe the deer as well as
themselves an accurate firearm and should be able to shoot
accurately.

    "I personally have a gender problem with a few men, although by
now the regular shooters know that after 30 years of spotting holes
and adjusting sights, I have it pretty well figured out."

    Griepentrog offered a few tips:
- When sighting-in, use sandbags to rest the rifle for
consistency.
- Sight-in with the ammunition you intend to use for deer hunting.
- Make sure the sights or scope are mounted tightly.
- Be familiar with the operation of the firearm (loading, safety,
etc.).
- Take three shots to form a group before adjusting any sights.
Realize there is human error.
- Remember trajectory. The rifle can't be "on" at every distance.
 
Some folks wonder why we chase the deer.
They laugh at our blaze orange dress.
It's like flying over the coo-coo's nest,
Who is crazy is anybody's guess.
 

    And now for a final shot.

    Roughly one-third of the 440,000 hunters expected to participate
in the 1998 deer hunt will come home with venison. This means, of
course, a whole bunch of us will go through the deer hunting motions
with nothing to show for our efforts.

    It could be you. It'll probably be me. So, here's my No. 1 rule
for good deer hunting:

    Enjoy.

    Renew your connection to the earth. Refresh your natural senses.
Sharpen your eyes, nose and ears to play your historic role of
natural predator.

    Remember to appreciate the wonderful gifts of the whitetail
deer. Its sharp senses, its camouflage, its speed and grace are
present today because it has been a hunted beast for centuries.

    And remember, as John Eggers noted, deer stands are really
thinking places.

Welcome To Deer Camp (1995)

Welcome to deer camp.

It's that time again, time to gather, time to sharpen the senses, time to honor the whitetail deer.

What had been a level and quiet patch of popple has become, by Friday afternoon, a busy construction site.

First the tent, followed by the fire pit, kitchen table and, lastly, a hole in the leafy ground, which will serve as the camp biffy.

The camp bonding process takes over and soon the popple patch has all the comforts of home.  Well, almost all.  5:00 p.m. Friday

This season's camp attendees have finally arrived.  They are John Larson and son Scott of Burnsville; a brother, Rick Schara of Maplewood; a nephew, Steve Schara of Plymouth; and Jim Braaten of
Nerstrand, who is acting camp manager, chief chef and deer hunting consultant.

Braaten has the last title because he is the reigning deer expert, having shot one a season ago.

The deer expert job is up for grabs again.  And all of the applicants come to deer camp in the usual way, carrying arm loads of sleeping bags, deer rifles, Sorel boots plus backpacks full of pre-hunt optimism.

5:15 p.m.

Chef Braaten announces the dinner menu, which includes peanut snacks, followed an all-you-can-eat batch of delicious pasta, sauce and small billiard balls that taste something like meat.

The evening meal steams into the woodsy air.  The air is cold, danged  cold. Maybe 10 above. Maybe.

The usual fireside chit-chat is moved into the big-top tent, where the pre-hunt braggadocio starts to warm things up.

Last year, the hunt was merely minutes old when Chef Braatenmanaged to shoot the first and only buck in camp by hunting a stone's throw away from the tent flap door.  He attributed his success to more skill than luck, of course.

"I am taking big-buck bets," he announced on the eve of this deer opener. "I am willing to bet that none of you get a buck," he snickered.  Nobody called.

8 p.m.

The first to hit the sleeping bag is Bro' Rick, but he gets no sleep until the other tent cots are slowly occupied.

9:15 p.m.

Lanterns out, snoring begins.

5 a.m. Saturday

Opening day, finally, and what a cold, dark dawn it is.  Even the campfire pit looks frozen.

On this opening day, leaving the sleeping bag is one of the toughest tests of being a Minnesota deer hunter.  You also question your sanity.  But the lapse is momentary. A cup of hot coffee eventually eases the agony of jumping into cold, blaze orange hunting togs.

5:15 a.m.

The orange army departs.  One by one, the two-legged orangemen peel off onto trails leading to their chosen hunting spots.

6:30 a.m.

Dawn seems to come quickly in the woods, aided by a thin skiff of snow that brightens the forest floor.  Gunfire is already echoing in the distance.  Somebody's deer season is probably over already. The hike to my deer stand is farther than I remember, and I'm late getting there.

The woods is eerily quiet and frosty.  Not a chickadee chirps; the squirrels must be sleeping in.

The wind wafts softly as if unsure of which way to blow.

7 a.m.

There's no guessing that deer season is open.  Gunfire rumbles steadily in the crisp air.  During a 10-minute period, I count 41 reports.  One shot is usually a dead deer, I figure.  Two shots, maybe.  Three shots from the same rifle, probably misses.

7:30 a.m.

Judging by the gunfire, everybody is seeing deer but me.

7:45 a.m.

Suddenly, footsteps.  Crunching in the brittle leaves.  There it is, a gray ghost slipping through the brush.  Even in the shadows, the glint of antlers is obvious.  A small six-pointer.  His head is down.  He sniffs and walks, first one way and then another. The brush is thick.  Better to wait for a clear shot.  The buck is now a mere 50 yards away.  He raises his nose.  It means trouble.  Softly, the buck wheels and walks away from the scent he did not like.  It was mine.

8:30 a.m

A doe and her fawn meander by.  I put down the rifle and pick up the camera.  Click.  Gotcha.

9:45 a.m

My God - my fingers are numb and my toes are the same.  The rest of me wants to shiver, except for my nose.  It is running hard.

9:46 a.m

Out of nowhere, a large doe appears. She has been running long; her mouth is agape for air.  Must be a buck chasing her, I figure.

The doe disappears.

Minutes later, sure enough, here comes the buck on the doe's trail.  But it is a small, spike buck.

10 a.m.

Wait.  Another movement. To my left. Another deer.  A nice buck, an eight-pointer.  Swiftly, he turns to disappear.  One shot from my .270 Winchester echoes through the woods.

And you remember what one shot means.

Ron Schara Opening - Opening Day Walleye (2002)

It's a fair question and it might be the only issue the
Legislature hasn't brought up in this year's endless session.

Do I hear any nominees?

Did somebody say Esox? The Great Northern Pike?

Nominations closed.

At roughly 6 a.m. Saturday, the opening day of Minnesota's
angling season, the only fish in Bowstring Lake who wanted to
participate in the grand Ice Age event was the northern pike.

Now that's being a team player.

Think about it. Thousands of catch-hungry anglers floating on
lake water only a few degrees removed from being ice and who was
willing to bite and give us a few tugs? Well, it wasn't the golden
walleye. Yes, northern pike provided the first fishing action of
the season and, frankly, should be honored for being willing to do
anything in water that was about 44 degrees Saturday.

Now the Bowstring pike were a long ways from being lunkers. Or
even keepers. But they bit. And daughter Simone caught three pike
before the sun came up, which gave her a reason to stay awake until
sunrise.

As for those party-pooper walleyes, they didn't start joining in
on the fun until mid-morning in my boat, when uncle Charles Schara
hauled in an 18-incher.

Now who wants an official state fish that plays hard to catch?

Time to vote.

This piscatorial insurrection might not fly, but the northern
pike deserves a hand for keeping opening day anglers happy until
the walleyes decided to join in.

On Bowstring, the walleye bite seemed to start about 10 a.m.,
under quiet skies and late-winter conditions. Brother Rick Schara
along with his sister, Deann Schara, and her son, T.C., caught
seven walleyes by noon, using small jigs in 8 to 10 feet of water.

In an informal survey, most Bowstring anglers had "a few"
walleyes, but six-fish limits were rare. The cold water made the
bite sensitive. Light jigs or Lindy Rigs seemed to be the right
ploy, although the walleyes were scattered.

Clearly, the opening menu called for a spot-tail shiner minnow
attached to a 1/16th-ounce Fireball chartreuse lead head jig. But
water depth played a key role in fishing success.

Most anglers reported finding walleyes in water less than 10 feet
deep. In fact, a 4-to 7-foot range of water seemed to be holding
male walleyes that were scattered along shorelines, rock and sand.

"Most of the boats coming in have one or two, although some
anglers are doing better than that," said Jerry McLane, of
Bowstring Shores Resort.

Said Mark Bundgaard, "I was surprised. The fishing was better
than the weather forecast and we caught seven walleyes for two of
us."

As an opening day experience, the angling results were mixed. But
this always is the case. The champions of a year ago were sucking
wind this year. Nephew Steve Schara and his buddies came to the
dock with seven walleyes and were proud of the accomplishment.

At noon, the walleye count in my boat didn't take long to total.
Yet, three hours later, we could brag.

So - that's the way it was Saturday.

Brother Robert, of Hutchinson, Minn., was acting pretty humble,
unlike last year when he was boasting. Seems everybody has their
time to be humble.

Mary Jane Orth, of Cresco, Iowa, is the big fish leader.

In the non-fish category, Bob Dickens of Boscobel, Wis., showed
up with 20 pounds of morel mushrooms, a feat that might be
unmatched in the northern half of Minnesota. That is why he is
invited to the Schara opener party every year.

Uncle Bob always shows up with bags of fresh-picked morel
mushrooms that he fries for everybody, using butter and rolled
saltine crackers.

Brian Johnson, of St. Paul, looked for crappies in Bowstring, but
found nothing.

When the Schara Opening Day Bash began Friday afternoon,
anticipation was high. Todd Porter, of Minneapolis, caught a
19-incher early Saturday, but it didn't appear to be a winner.

Uncle Charles Schara, 80, and uncle Kenny Schara, 82, both of
Austin, Minn., as usual showed the most restraint, catching one
walleye each and being happy about it.

Daughter Simone caught her first walleye after four years of
trying. We high-fived.

There's something special about landing a walleye, I must admit.
Northern pike are fine, but I must withdraw the nomination. We are
intending to have a shore lunch.

A shore lunch of walleye.

Thanks anyway, northern pike.

- Ron Schara is at ron@mnbound.com.