Hunting with Mike

A friend of mine had invited me to hunt his property this past week, and I excepted his offer New Years Eve day. (Dec. 31st.)   He already had stands in place, and hunted the evening before I arrived.  Him and his buddy saw 54 deer, as they were yarded up.  They were doe hunting, and filled their tags, but reported seeing several bucks.  Boy was I charged up!

I received directions to the stand, and set out just as dawn was breaking.  It was snowing, and a strong wind was coming in from the west.  The stand was set up in a cleared out woods between a swamp and their feeding area.  As it got lighter I noticed quite a few downed trees (deadfalls) in the area.  There was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground, and several sets of tracks went just under the stand.

To make a long story short I stayed in the stand till 10:30a.m. before the cold unforgiving wind whipped my frozen butt!  You’d think I’d know by now it’s better to be overdressed, as you can always remove, but you can’t add to what your wearing.  I felt positive as I left the stand, because I’d seen several deer, but all to far away.  They seemed to be moving back and forth, and I assumed they were looking for something to eat.  Well that is what I did!  I went and ate breakfast at a little restaurant a few miles away, and didn’t get back in the stand till 12:00 o’clock noon.  I had to be home no later than 4:00p.m. for our New Years family get-to-gather, so a few more hours was all I had.

At 12;30 I saw deer heading toward me from my right.  If they kept on course they were going to pass 20 yards in front of me.  There were four does in the lead.  I tried to pick out the largest one, until I saw more movement behind them.  A buck was trailing about 20 yards back, and it looked like he had a pretty good set of horns.  The does didn’t stop, as I drew back in anticipation of the bucks appearance.  He came through the same area, as I put my 20 yard pin on his chest.  To my surprise he stopped right in front of me, and I let-er-fly.  The new expandable Rage broadhead hit perfectly in the lung area, as the loud crack of ribs breaking resonated through the still woods.  To my horror the arrow almost “dangled” as  the deer headed after the fleeting does.  I watched the arrow fall from his chest, about 60 yards away, but thought I saw the deer stumble as he disappeared into the blowdowns.

I waited a half hour before getting on his tracks, but could not pick up any blood.  You’d think with a fresh snow on the ground, and a lung shot deer there would be a speak of blood!  Nothing!  Now the tracks joined with the other deers tracks, and I started to worry.  I found the arrow, and it had blood about 8″ up the shaft.  I knew that didn’t mean I had eight inches of penetration, but 4 inches would still give me lung!  The blades were deployed and the arrow seemed to be fine!  I backed off and went  to get my pal Robert.  This is his turf, and he knows it better than anyone.

By the time we got back to the spot I found the arrow it was 1:45p.m.  We zig-zagged through the woods trying to cut a blood trail to no avail.  Now I’m really getting worried!  Robert told me to use a different broadhead, but I was already two steps ahead of him.  I had a Razorback, cut on contact,2-blade, with bleeders locked and loaded if I got a chance for another shot. Robert had a hunch that the deer might head in an area with several blowdowns, close to a fence row with heavy grass cover.

I was walking abreast from Robert about 60 yards away, when I saw him wave, and put his hands on his head, signifying deer horns.  He motioned for me to make a half circle toward him, but from his gestures, he couldn’t tell if the deer was alive or dead.  For the life of me I could not see what he was looking at, till I saw a small puff of steam rise from the ground.  The deer was laying down, in between two logs, and was totally camouflaged.  Except for his rib cage moving in and out, he was frozen on point!  His head was on the ground facing Robert, as he monitored his every move.  I was sneaking up behind him trying to get a clear shot, but one limb was in my way.  I was able to get within 4-yards of this buck, but still wasn’t sure I could safely clear the limb.  I had to shoot instinctive, as the Razorback hit its mark!  The deer jumped from it’s hiding place, and ran about 80 yards before piling up on the edge of the woods.

Upon inspection, the rage broadhead had failed to make it all the way through the rib cage.  The lung was punctured, but just barely.  Rage promises a two inch hole, and by golly there certainly was, but penetration was totally unacceptable.  I shoot sixty pounds, and the shot was as good as a hunter can hope for.  My second shot went totally through, at a quartering away angle.

I’m not here to bad mouth this product, but this is the third mechanical broadhead I’ve tried, and the third time they have failed for me.  They cost me a bull elk,  a very nice Kentucky 8-pointer, and could of cost me this deer also.  I’m just like the next guy; I like to experiment with all the new archery products, but from here on out my trusty two-blades will always grace the end of my arrows.

You’ll see in the pictures of the deer that the “rage” wound is on the right side lung area.  The wound to the left, is the exit wound,  from the two blade that entered from the right side of the deer.  That arrow went through both rib cages, and kept on going!  Well that’s my long winded story, and I’m sticking to it!

Mike

Well Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!   They say that even a “blind pig” can find an acorn  every now and then.   I gave it one last shot (actually it was two) and came up with this dandy, but weird buck.  I  think I can claim a drop tine on this one , and maybe even a “non-typical!”  I froze my butt off today, but staying in the stand paid off.   I used the broadhead everyones been telling me about  (Rage)  and I won’t be using them again.  It’s kind of a long story, so I’ll finish this up tomorrow with all the details of this last minute deer.   I’ve got to start getting ready for our little family get together.   Suspense! Suspense!

This picture shows what can happen when baiting is allowed. Some hunters will take it to the extremes, and the state of Michigan had to clamp down, and ban all baiting! I hate to admit it but this is my brother Brad, and apparently the deer had grown quite used to his apple pile. You would think just the “pants” alone would scare the daylights out of any self respecting deer, but the lure of a tasty apple evidently trumps fashion!

We’ve often wondered how Brad shot those two bucks he’s got, and now we know. Those trail-cams can do more than take pictures of deer. They can also catch those feeding techniques you don’t want anyone to know about. I guess every family has their “bad apple” don’t they Brad? My only hope is that this picture was taken in the U.P.

Actually it was taken at Presque Isle park in Marquette Michigan. The deer are wild, but due to people feeding them they have become accustomed to the handouts. The deer have been trapped and relocated several times, but usually within a few months are back in the park again.

Sorry Brad I didn’t mean to spill the apples; I mean beans!

Mike

I can’t believe it’s been ten days that I’ve been off-line, due to changes at Monroe Evening News.  I think I was one of the last ones they got up and running.  If anyone is interested I also have a web-page at www.mikeansel.com, and I’ve written a few stories over at “Base Camp Legends” run by Tom and Gary Sorenson.  Incidentally Gary’s wife Sue is elk hunting right now.  I hope see connects, and they get some good footage of the hunt.  Wives that hunt are few and far between.  If you’ve got one that does (hunts) guys, you’d be smart to treat her right.  Of coarse that is a given for all men to “honor and respect their partners,” as they are Gods gift to give some balance to us men!

Hope everyone had a blessed Christmas, and will have a safe and joyous New Year.  We had big plans with the grandkids with all the snow we received, but this is Michigan, and the snow is fast disappearing.  It’s suppose to get in the 50’s tomorrow which should put the old kabachi on what’s left.  I guess now the plans are to go bowling.  I’d much rather pull sleds with my Polaris.  Maybe we’ll get more snow next week.

I also am hoping to get in at least one more day of hunting in, before I have to put my bow away for the season.  Sure hope the rain, and mud it leaves behind, are frozen solid by next Tuesday or Wednesday.  I need some venison for my freezer!  I think my old Admiral is ready to sue me for being an impostor!

Mike

My wife is one of those “fortunate” people who’s birthday falls in December.  In fact it is today Dec. 16th.  I will not divulge her age, but I am 62 years old myself, and was in kindergarten when she was a “wee” baby.  When I say “wee” I mean little, tiny, premature!

You see my wife is a living miracle.  Her mother gave birth to her three (3) months before she was due, and back then the survival rate for babies that small was almost non-existent.  She weighed just over 2 pounds at birth, and dropped to 1 pound 14 oz. shortly thereafter.   Usually babies this premature have lung problems, and were given oxygen while the lungs developed.  Because so little was known about treatment, many of these babies ended up blind, due to the oxygen mixture.  Even though my wife was so little her lungs were ok, and she didn’t need oxygen.  She has the brightest blue eye’s you’ve ever seen.  Many of our grandkids have inherited those gorgeous blue eyes from her.  She had to stay in the hospital until she reached 5-1/2 pounds, and that took three months.  Her doctor was written up in a medical journal because of his success in treating such a small premature baby.

She is a lovely, healthy, vibrant women, who against the doctors wishes had 7 children of her own.  She runs 3-4 miles every morning, works full time with pre-schoolers, is endeared by her 10 grandchildren, and has a deep and abiding faith.  She’s like the “energizer bunny” and is always doing for someone else.  She’s “low maintenance,” soft spoken, and a good money manager.  She pampers others, but requires very little herself.  She cooks, she cleans, and her baking abilities are legendary; at least in our family!  Now what could top that?  Well she’s put up with me for 38 years, and that says something about “commitment!”

As my fishing buddies would say “she’s a keeper!,” and I thank God that I’m the one that “landed” such a catch.  No matter how many big bucks, bears, or fish I catch I’ll never be able to top my “TROPHY WIFE!”  Thanks for all these years of selfless love you’ve shown us all.  Happy Birthday!  I love you.

Mike

This is what the inside of a real old fashioned deer camp looks like. Every year I try to give a report on the Baldwin deer hunting clan, but news is coming in slow so far this year. Dick Baldwin, is bravely holding alot more weight on his lap then he should. He  is the leader of this good looking crew of deer slayers.  Behind him are his sons Greg (L) and Gary (R) along with Gary’s son Matt seated at the table. Of course I’m the only one not color coordinated (red) putting pressure on Dick’s legs.

I recently received an e-mail from Gary’s daughter Paula that the guy’s were having an “off” year in camp so far. Greg and Gary had both taken 8-pointers and Dick got a smaller buck (for the freezer.) Matt was still chasing a huge 160 class buck around his stomping grounds, and Paula’s husband got a 6-pointer at his camp. How would you like to have an “off year” like that one? Usually though these guys are prone to put at least one monster on the old buck pole, so that’s the reason they may feel somewhat dejected. I know their breaking my heart too! I’ll post some pictures when they send em my way.

Mike

Bot I went way back in my archives for this photo. It’s my army buddy Alroy Strand from Minnesota and myself after a day of hunting around Fort Hood Texas. That’s my trusty “53″ Pontiac that would get us to whatever destination we wanted.

I lost contact with Alroy after the Alaskan earthquake of the early 70’s. He moved there after he got out of the service, and we used to write one another every now and then. After the quake my letters kept coming back marked “no such address,” so I assumed Alroy and his family were victims of the quake.

Well I’ve been thinking about him lately, and went to Anywho.com and searched for an Alroy Strand in Alaska. I didn’t come up with anything, but there was a Mike Strand in Anchorage with his wife and three kids. It said he was 35 years old, so I knew this could be Al’s son. I phoned the number it gave, and Jeri Ann answered the phone. She said Alroy was her father-in-law, and we had a nice chat getting to know a little about one another. I was glad to find out Al was alive and kicking. Seems he’s been working the Alaska oil fields for quite some time, but also was spending time in his home town of Baudette Minnesota. Jeri Ann gave me Al’s mothers phone number, and I was able to leave a message on his phone, after getting some information from her. She’s 86 years old, and seemed like a real sweetheart.

After almost 40 years of not speaking to one another I got a long anticipated phone call from my army pal this evening. It was so good to hear his voice, and find out about “the man” Alroy Strand. No matter how grown up we thought we were at 19-20 years old, the world and life had a lot to teach us yet. We were kids back then, and now were grandpa’s, and on the downward slid of life. Alroy has lived in Alaska for over 40 years, and has been on many hunting and fishing adventures. He owns a cabin on the lake up there, and has a couple places in Minnesota. He’s not far from the Lake of the Woods, and still hunts and fishes since he retired this year. The last 18 years he worked at Prudhoe Bay running heavy equipment and supervising about 18 men.

I mentioned that my dream was always to do a grizzly hunt in Alaska, and Al said he wished he would have know, cause he could of set one up for us. Boy I missed that by a few years didn’t I? Well we promised to stay in touch, and try to see one another before either of us kicks the bucket! It was sure good hearing from my old friend, and Lord willing we will meet once again.

Mike

The comedian Garrison Keillor wrote a funny essay called “The Book of Guys.” In it he listed “Useful Things I Can Do,” and “Useful Things I Can’t Do.” Among the things listed that he could not do were, handle a boat, throw a curve ball, bag a deer, and throw a left hook. Most women would go down the list and say “What does it matter if a guy can’t do those things?” As John Edredge quotes in his book “Wild At Heart” “But that’s a womanly view of manhood.” John is talking about this very thing to his pal Craig, as they hike their way through grizzly country to reach a good fishing stream. We pick up on the book here.

“Craig and I were joking about this as we hacked our way through grizzly infested woods in Alaska. The only other guys we met all day were a group of locals on their way out. They looked like something out of Solider Of Fortune Magazine-sawed off shotguns, pistols, bandoleers of ammo slung across their chest, huge knives. They were ready. They had what it takes. And we? We had a whistle. I’m serious. Thats what we brought for our dangerous trek through the wild; a whistle. Talk about a couple of pansies. That’s how most men feel about their readiness to fight, to live with risk, to capture the beauty. We have a whistle. You see even though the desires are there for a battle to fight, an adventure to live, and a beauty to rescue, even though our boyhood dreams once were filled with those things, we don’t think were up to it. Why don’t men play the “man?” Why don’t they offer their strength to a world desperately in need of it? For two simple reasons. We doubt very much that we have any real strength to offer, and were pretty certain if we did offer what we have it wouldn’t be enough. Something has gone wrong and we know it.

What happened to us? The answer is partly back in the story of mankind, and partly in the details of each man’s story.” (Wild At Heart page 47-48)

John is of the belief there is a “Braveheart” in every man, and his book explores the possibilities to recapture what we were designed to be. After all we were created in the likeness and image of God, and as you read about the Creator you won’t find a pansy playing a harp while seated on a cloud. I highly recommend that every man read “Wild At Heart” by John Eldredge. I’m having to rethink my own paradigm of what it means to be fully man.

Mike

Could it be “The Last of the Mohican’s?”  It may not be, but it is the last time Chief 10 Bears will be roaming the school halls this year.  Today I was at Meadow Montessori school, talking to my wives class.  Actually Renee Brooks is in charge and Lorna is her assistant.  I’m showing the kids an iron tomahawk, which the Indians traded beaver pelts for.  I have two tables set up showing what the Indians gave, and what they received from the trappers in their dealings with one another.

One little girl asked the question “Who gets to wear the headdress?  Is it only the chief?”  Very good question!  They also wanted to know about the eagle feathers in the bonnet, so we just kind of went from there.  Usually I don’t have to plan a whole lot in the way of keeping their attention, cause they keep things pretty lively on their own.

I guess I can put things away for awhile, and give “old” Ten Bears a much needed rest.  Yeh right!  Now I have to start putting the outdoor decorations up, before the snow starts piling up

Mike

” ” Here we are doing one of our most favorite things.  It’s an Ansel family tradition to cut our own Christmas tree every year.  This year we tried a new tree farm, as the prices at our old place were getting out of sight.  Our daughter Courtney and her two daughters Ava and Addisyn went along with us to cut a tree.  Daughter Tara her husband Glen, and their son Kyle came out also, but we missed them by about an hour.  Our Daughter Alena was with her husband Tony, and their three kids at our old tree farm buying their tree.  The plan was for all of us to meet at Matthis Evergreen Farm and let the kids see Santa, ride the ponies, drink hot chocolate and eat popcorn.

The day was perfect with a sunny sky and temperatures in the mid 40’s.  Matthis has a gold mine, as their operation caters to the family.  The place was wall to wall people.  They have a barn with live Christmas music, food court, gift shop, pony rides, hay rides (pulled by two huge Belgians,) petting zoo, and 100’s of acres of trees, and of course St. Nick!

We tied our trees to the top of Courtney’s explorer, before we headed home, to hang some of our decorations.  I’ll probably put the tree up tomorrow.  This is a very special time of year for us, and we thoroughly enjoy having our family around.

Blessings Mike