Montana Woods N Water December 2014 by Montana Woods N Water

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December 2014

Photo by Bob Hosea, TheBobFactor.com

Publisher’s Notes

What’s Inside

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to my fellow Montana Sportsmen! Where did this year and the fall hunting season go? I didn’t get to spend much time in the woods or on the water this year, due to trying to keep this publication moving forward and growing. Thanks to our staff, advertisers and you, the readers, we have grown exponentially every month. Thank you! The friends and business relationships established over the last eight months publishing Montana Woods N Water, has allowed me to meet the hard working and wonderful folks that call Northwest Montana home. I would not live, work or play anywhere else in the world. I love Montana! As we move into the New Year, you we will see some changes. In the last eight months, I have covered 29,600 miles of Montana highways and averaged a 72-hour work week. I cannot keep up! I am not getting any younger, and have missed out on way too many days of hunting and fishing. We love telling the Montana sportsman’s stories, and sharing your pictures with the world, and we will continue to do so. However, to reduce our printing costs, windshield time and overhead, we will be going more digital each month with new videos and informational web links. Our digital on-line following was over 17,000 readers last month alone. We have followers from Germany to Hawaii, east coast to west coast. We will no longer offer subscriptions, as the cost of mailing is just too costly. We will still be printing a hard copy, but just not in the numbers we have in the past while trying to cover every nook and cranny in Northwestern Montana. Our digital following

has become bigger than our print following. With the reduction in personnel, we cannot be so tied to publication deadlines as in the past. This will give us the flexibility to deliver a higher quality of content and not chasing deadlines and stressing out each month. We will deliver a monthly publication just as soon as we can each month. It is our goal to post our publication to the web by the 15th of each month or earlier and hard copies hitting the streets within 6-8 days of the web posting–depending on our printing company’s schedule. January print edition will not hit the streets until around the 20th due to the holidays. We hope to have the digital version out by the 15th if all goes well. In January we kick off “Five Months of Fun”. We have teamed up with Big Bull Sports and the Sanders County Search and Rescue, and plan on raffling off a firearm every month through May. These raffles and other fundraisers scheduled over the next five months are to raise money for the Sanders County Search and Rescue. See our ad on page 37 for more details. Enjoy your holidays, and don’t drink and drive. Remember, Jesus is the reason for the season and it is NOT about the gifts, but the gift of life you have been given. Peace be to all of you and your families this holiday season, and may blessings rain upon you and your families in 2015. Thank you for supporting Montana Woods N Water. Go to www.montanawoodsnwater.com and give our online edition a test drive. Don’t forget to like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. We aren’t going anywhere, so keep those pictures and stories coming.

Raf Viniard, Publisher Raf@montanawoodsnwater.com 406-407-0612

Montana Dan Hunting Trapping Fishing Talkin’ Trout Outdoor Veterans Sportsman’s Meds A Hunter’s Life Wing Shooters Camp Fire Talk Local Celebrities Pink Camo Angela Montana Kountry Girls Camp Fire Talk Too Next Generation

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Publisher: Raf Viniard Managing Editor: Tanya Holzer Field Editor: Mitzi Stonehocker Sales and Marketing Director: Kori Erickson Lake, Mineral & Sanders Counties: Raf Viniard & Mitzi Stonehocker Lincoln County: Kori Erickson Missoula: Vacant Kalispell: Misty Loveless (406)250-4191

Pro Staff Writers/Photographers: Angela Gerych Dan Helterline Paul Fielder Toby Bridges Toby Walrath Jason Badger

Pastor Jim Sinclair Zach Butcher Montana Mitzi Sam Martin Jason Badger Tony Rebo

Cover Photo Provided By: Bob Hosea, The Bob Factor Contributing Photographers/Writers: Juli Cooper, Karrie Lulack, Crystal McDonald Graphic Designers Tanya Holzer Kori Erickson Carrie Schikora

Special thanks to our proof readers Paul, Andrenia, and Dave & Jan Harvey.

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MONTANA DAN

Spotted fever The bark of a hound at the base of a treed cat is a houndsman’s paradise. –By Dan Helterline

eer and elk season have ended, and cat season is in full swing. For the hardcore cat hunter, big game season is just a way to pass time until cat season opens. Finally, you get a chance to take the hounds out hunting after feeding and listen to them bark all summer. I love to pursue lions with my hounds, and never tire of seeing one perched in a tree. But my true passion is the pursuit of Mr. Short Tail, or the wily bobcat! Lions, by comparison, are relatively easy to catch and a fresh track almost always ends at the tree. Bobcats, on the other hand, are as unpredictable as Montana's weather. When you release the dogs on a fresh bobcat track, it is anybody's guess where you will end up, or what the chase will entail. The chase isn't always long. I have released the hounds on tracks that were very easy to catch. Then there are those chases that don't end at the tree, and you have to round up the hounds several drainages away. Both you and the dogs are sore and exhausted. I like to refer to those runs as "getting strung out!" I think it is this degree of uncertainty that draws me to the pursuit of bobcats. Also, with the upswing of the fur market in recent years, a good day or two of bobcat hunting can greatly offset the cost of fuel from the sale of the pelts. No cat hunter can be successful without good dogs. This is especially true for a good bobcat dog. A hound that can tree bobcats on a regular basis is a valuable commodity. I can count the ones that I have had the pleasure to own on half a hand. Bobcats are physically able to outrun dogs if they choose. Some of their tricks include heading for their favorite cliffs that their pursuers are unable to negotiate, running on dead fall to slow up the dogs, or simply running in a large circle multiple times leaving a maze of tracks for the hounds to sort out. When treed, bobcats also like to climb to the top of the tree, or

favorite chases and stories that comes to mind is one that happened a few years ago in a side drainage up the Thompson River. Every cat hunter has favorite spots that he can find fresh tracks in once it snows, and I am no different. The problem with the drainage in this story is that it contains several bands of towering cliffs, and I have been "strung out" here more than once. The positive side is that I am almost always able to find a fresh track here and get in a chase. Bobcats hunt packrats in these rocky haunts,

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We could hear the dogs faintly barking at the top of the cliffs as we slowly made our way to their new position at the top of the rocks..” hide in a fir tree that is thick with mistletoe, making it hard for the hounds to locate exactly what tree the cat took refuge in. When a hound owner comes across a dog that can overcome these obstacles on a regular basis, he has a truly gifted dog and one that should be his prized possession! Over the years, I have been on some truly crazy bobcat chases. Some ended successfully, some not so much. One of my

making them a good place to look for tracks. This particular morning was no different, and we found a nice bobcat track at the mouth of the canyon and optimistically "released the hounds"! The dogs tracked through some dead fall and then headed uphill right for a large rock outcropping. I had just purchased a single shot 17HMR pistol that was scoped and was eager to try it out. I figured its accuracy would help make

some of those tree-top shots. This would be far better than using my open-sighted 22 pistol. I shoved my new gun in my pack and we slowly made our way up towards the rocks where the dogs were trying to sort things out. Just as we made the cliff band, my buddy’s lead dog found where the cat had left the rocks and headed up the canyon. Soon, all the dogs joined and were headed side hill in hot pursuit, and quickly out of earshot. The terrain ahead appeared somewhat cliff free, and I suddenly felt optimistic about the outcome of our chase. As we made our way up the drainage, I could see a cliff band coming into view and it appeared larger and more formidable than the one we just left behind. We could hear the dogs faintly barking at the top of the cliffs as we slowly made our way to their new position at the top of the rocks. When we finally clamored up to the top where they were barking, it was apparent the bobcat had made his escape down through the cliff band leaving the dogs hung up on top. Half way down the cliff face there was a ledge, and I could clearly see Mr. Bob's tracks on it. Jeff had made his way to the other side and down to the bottom and yelled that he couldn't find where the cat had left the cliff band. At the other end of the ledge, it looked like there was a chute that got MONTANA DAN |

DECEMBER 2014

MONTANA DAN

close to where I could see his tracks. If I was careful, and didn't slip, I could make it there. After some cautious down climbing, I reached where the ledge came to an end close to the chute I was precariously perched in. I peeked around the corner of the rocks at the ledge and sure enough, there was Mr. Bob’s tracks. He had traveled to the end of the ledge and then his tracks turned around. I immediately hollered up at Jake that the cat was somewhere on the rock face between us. This sudden new discovery sparked a new found fire in me to find this bobcat’s hiding place and end the hunt successfully! I scanned the rock face but could not see the cat, so I scrambled back up to Jake and the dog’s position at the top of the cliff. I had a pair of binoculars in my pack and I told Jake that we were going to scour that cliff face until we found Mr. Bob. I had just started to scan the rocks when Jake cried out, "There he is!" Sure enough, he was perched on a

small ledge about ten feet above where I had seen his tracks turn around. It was now time to try out my new 17 HMR! I got prone and

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MONTANA DAN |

DECEMBER 2014

joyfully headed out to the truck victorious and exhausted! It’s hunts like these that make up for all

I got prone and rested the pistol on my pack, steadying myself for the 50 yard shot.” rested the pistol on my pack, steadying myself for the 50 yard shot. At the crack of my pistol, the bobcat lurched, sending him flying off his perch, down the vertical rock face, and coming to a rest on the rock slide some 75 yards below. After celebrating our immediate victory with some enthusiastic high fives and hollering, Jake and I gathered up the dogs, shouldered our packs, and made our way down to where the bobcat had come to his final resting place. We met Jeff at the bobcat, and upon reliving the final minutes of the hunt, strapped the cat to my pack and

the ones that do not end so successfully, and make a houndsman proud of his dogs and their drive to chase and tree game. Maybe next month I will recount the story of my best lion hunt in the Selway Wilderness of Idaho. It may not be a story of the greatest lion, but it is my greatest lion story!

HUNTING

–By Juli Cooper

ny hunter will agree that time slows to a crawl during the few seconds that he or she spends with a trophy in view. We all dream about those few breaths that float up in front of a scope that's been perfectly sighted by hours at a practice range. Every good coach over the years has told me 'the preparation is in the perspiration' and I've learned that the cheap cliché is no different for our sport. The more time practicing, scouting, shooting, and hiking will make anyone better equipped to handle those intense moments when your frozen hands, knees & ears suddenly don't matter if you're carefully tracking an animal in the field. Those sustained seconds are seldom given credit for how meaningful they were–but not this time. Not for me. I wasn't going to let those seconds pass without hitting the record button in my brain and playing it back like the days of studying film with coach and learning from my mistakes. My highlight reel started like most NW Montana hunting days do; a 5:00 am alarm clock, a groggy meal in the truck, and the constant notion of feeling like I forgot something. The excitement is palpable as my husband Brent (doubling as my best friend & hunting guide) and I start our hike into the darkness guided by headlamps and silence. For some, walking into the mountains without sunlight or direction might be a terrifying idea, but never for us. Darkness only means that we'll be earning a front row seat to the greatest show on earth: the sun rise over God's country. Each step bringing us a foot closer to where we feel most at 'home' in Montana, far away from the noise pollution of car horns and cell phones, train whistles and barking dogs. Peace on earth is 4

real, and it's alive in the rugged mountains of Montana where we like to spend most of our time. The sunrise show reaches it's culm-ination as we continue walking in sync like we have hundreds of days before this one. With each careful step taken, we scour the hillsides for game. It truly is the greatest show on earth. We never take it for granted and we never will. Two more hours and a young two-point Mule deer buck passes with not much else except a few deer rubs to indicate some rutting has been occurring in the area. Still no 'wall-hangers' have shown themselves yet, but that's okay. The best hunts are the ones you have to work for, or else everybody would have a story to write. Discouragement can be a regular feeling for those in our sport, if you let it, but we're all just looking for those worthwhile, prolonged seconds where you have to blink twice to confirm if what you're seeing through your scope is real or another day dream. Those moments (if real) always make up for the early alarm clocks, spilled coffee on the bumpy roads up to the mountains and achy ankles from old sports injuries reminding us that we're not 18 anymore. But now we're four miles in and that means anything we kill will have to be taken four miles back out, and even my hope is waning on this day. But what else would I be doing? Watching tv on my couch with coffee (that I would still manage to spill)? I proverbially pinch myself with the reality of where I am; a bad day spent hunting out here is better than any 'good' day spent at home. We rehydrate and continue. Two more hours go by and it's early afternoon. We're acutely aware of how far from the vehicle we're getting, so make the

decision to start back along the ridge line to stay ahead of the darkness that will soon make another appearance, and this time we won't be meeting it with the anticipation of another great show. It wasn't but a few minutes later that I heard the thundering sound of heavy feet running uphill above us. Before I could even glance, Brent turns and whispers “Did you see it? It's a big buck!” Instead of being inquisitive or helpful, the only words I could muster were “oh my gosh” as I watched the white butts uphill from us. Among those butts was the big buck that Brent was referencing, and just as I caught a glimpse of him, he immediately disappeared behind the trees. (Side note: I've always enjoyed that hunting is one of the only sports where excitement must be met with almost complete silence as to not spoil the moment. Touchdown celebrations are saved for when you're back at the truck–not after a kill.) Brent was able to track the buck through the brush using his binoculars, hunting superpowers and years of experience to keep him focused. He relayed the buck's position to me like a play-by-play commentator as I searched for a tree to lean against as a comfortable rest. I picked a position that I felt would work, and to my delight it was perfect. “He is going to turn broad side in just a minute,” whispered Brent. I settled in and remembered to stay calm, something that I had to learn the hard way through mistakes that I promised I wouldn't repeat again. Within seconds, like some sort of rehearsed Mule Deer ballet, the giant buck did exactly as Brent said he would. “You got him,” he quipped. HUNTING |

DECEMBER 2014

HUNTING I leaned all of my weight against the tree so I knew I was relaxed. The steep four + miles into this point didn't mean anything to me anymore. My legs stood firm and confident. I wasn't thinking about the achy joints, the small two-point from earlier was an afterthought, and the song that had been stuck in my head for the last three hours finally evaporated. It was just me behind my scope, finger resting on the trigger, and my best friend next to me. I hit the record button in my brain and followed the buck. He was a monster, and it was absolutely worth what was sure to be a long, painful, slow haul back to the truck if I was able to put him down. Back to my reminder to stay calm. I barely finished the thought as he turned his head & stared directly at me. Like a sponge that only absorbs time, I was floating in those few short–but enjoyably long–seconds letting my breath rise in front of me. Too focused to smile, I calmly pulled the trigger. The blast snapped me out of the quiet moment & restored the rest of my senses at the same time. I knew my shot was good, but I waited for confirmation from my husband who was watching from his binoculars if the shot landed. I've felt this way before only to have my bullet clip a tree branch and leave me with disappointment, so I waited. And waited. “You got him!” Brent said, and my blood rushed even more than before. I took a breath without realizing that I had been holding it for the past few mega-seconds, and we gathered our packs to start uphill. A very

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DECEMBER 2014

steep two hundred yards later, I finally got the closeup view of the awesome animal that God had presented to me that day. With my ears still ringing and the gravity of what had just transpired starting to pull tears out of my eyes, I hugged Brent and breathed heavily again. I did it. No, we did it. The highlight reel ended much the same as these intense hunts do; with lots and lots of hard work (and photos!) followed by even harder work. We didn't even need to discuss the possibility of leaving the animal behind & returning with friends to help. Neither of us wanted to make that trip twice if we didn't have to. After cleaning, boning and caping the giant trophy, our tired & shaky legs retraced our steps through the steep terrain back to the truck with the entire buck on our backs. My husband deserves almost all of the credit as he carried three quarters of the deer (in addition to his heavy pack) the entire way for me. My energy levels were fading at the same rate as daylight, but my spirit was strong and I couldn't wait to tell my friends and family about the Wall-Hanger that I was bringing home. With a “we did it!” accompanied by a high-five, we could finally start the

celebration. Brent and I hopped in the truck with full hearts and a brimming passion for hunting and the outdoors. Sharing these special memories with my family is a blessing, but I smile knowing that they will always last infinitely longer than those beautiful, short, quiet seconds behind a scope.

HUNTING

Moose over honey

We all want that coveted moose tag, but will you know what to do with it when you get it? –By Karrie Lulack

was quite contently in my nightly routine of cleaning up dinner and conversing with the children while sort of watching television. All of a sudden I hear my husband from his office “OH MY GOD! KARRIE! YOU GOT A MOOSE TAG!” My hubby then comes running down our long wooden floor hallway and skids in his socks to the entrance of the kitchen in close resemblance to a scene from the movie “Risky Business”. He has an extremely large smile on his face and is literally giggling. Then he said “Can you believe it? You got a moose tag!” More giggling. At that moment, I realized that I was supposed to be extremely excited about this. I was thinking in my head, but did not dare say out loud, “Does this mean I don’t get that handy little refund check I usually get for NOT getting a tag?” Then another thought. “Oh crap, I have to kill something.” I have never killed anything other than bugs and fish. How am I going to mentally prepare to kill? Maybe I can give the moose some sort of ritual. You know, like a thanking its spirit for giving its life to feed my family. Don’t get me wrong, I love moose meat and would prefer to have wild game in the freezer to feed myself and my family. I just never really contemplated shooting an animal myself, unless of course my children were starving during an apocalypse. Thank God my husband didn’t wait for me to answer him. He did a 360 and hopped back down the hall from where he came and skidded back into his office. He hollers at me again “COME HERE, YOU GOTTA SEE IT!” I say, “See the thing on the computer that says I have a tag?” He says, “Yes!” and I say, “I believe you honey.” He replies, “No, I just want you to see it on the computer.” I think it’s fair to say that I could stand to

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new….adventure? I get a kit in the mail that tells me to take samples of blood, teeth, tissue and measure rump fat on this moose that I may or may not get. So now I have to do some type of forensic thing? We watch various YouTube videos in bed (This is my husband and my new found romantic time together? What is going on?). We practice moose calling to each other across the house on

a regular basis. Sometimes the children join in like it’s a new way of communicating. If that isn’t entertaining enough, he does the

Not only are they angry when they think you are another male, they are not the least bit afraid of humans!” be a little more enthusiastic about this, but he was so excited that he probably had enough joy for the both of us. So much, that I don’t think he even notices my less-thanexuberant behavior. He then proceeded to make several phone calls telling everyone of my...his...our good fortune. It was as if he had won the lottery. I wanted to be more exited, but there were a lot of crazy thoughts running around in my head. As the days go by, I am learning a lot of new things about moose and moose hunting and I continued to contemplate this

female moose call and I have learned to do the male call (sort of…I think) and then I realize, through our educational YouTube videos, that when you successfully call a male moose in and he thinks you are also a bull, he is a one very enraged moose. I also learned something really terrifying. Not only are they angry when they think you are another male, they are not the least bit afraid of humans! What have I gotten myself into? Does my husband truly love me? Is he trying to get rid of me? I had better check the life insurance policy.

In an effort to make this event more fun, my husband surprises me with embroidered caps made for the whole family (plus a few extras). They are brown with a large moose on the side and the front says “Karrie’s Moose Hunt 2014.” We wear them on every hunting trip. After 3 or 4 unsuccessful hunting excursions, one with the children in tow, we are starting to become familiar with our “area” and where these moose may or may not hang out. I am starting to realize how much time this takes and how difficult it is to juggle a busy family of 5 with two in sports. The weekends become a puzzle of how to get to sporting events and get a moose hunt in. Our “area” is a 1 ½-hour drive from our house. In the beginning I had it in my mind that I would get a bull with a large rack, because that’s what we all want, right? I was temporarily brainwashed by my husband, family and society in general. It makes sense to me now that if I see a moose, male or female, with a good shot, it’s going to get it. So I decide to do some research and Googled, “the best time of day to see a moose”. A lot of you probably know the answer, but I didn’t. The best time of day to see a moose is “anytime”! Yep, that was the answer I got. I know that sometimes people don’t get their animal, and I might not, but I am suddenly feeling like trying like hell. I have 3 Continued on page 23. HUNTING |

DECEMBER 2014

TRAPPING

Out-smarten marten,

part 2

–By Paul C. Fielder

eaning pole sets for marten, in much of Montana, can’t have poles larger than 4 inches in diameter, and the trap and bait must be at least 48 inches above the ground or snow level according to Montana’s furbearer trapping regulations. These regulations are intended to reduce capturing lynx. Measuring tapes are now a trapping tool! So, what exactly is a “leaning pole set”? Marten can easily climb trees, but are more inclined to gain elevation along inclines, such

as a leaning pole. The leaning-pole set is a simple and successful method of trapping marten that uses a pole fastened to a tree so that the pole extends on an angle up from the ground. Bait is fastened to the upper end of the pole with a trap placed so the marten must encounter the trap before reaching the bait. That sounds simple, but many variations and details make the difference between successful or empty traps. Leaning pole sets can be made with foothold or bodygrip traps on the pole. Leaning pole sets can also be made with a body-grip trap in a box-like enclosure mounted on the leaning pole. A leaning pole can extend out into space beyond the tree trunk. Bait is placed at the end of the pole with the trap placed in front of it so the marten has to encounter the trap to get to the bait. Rub the bait (or a stream of fish oil) along the length of the pole to leave a scent trail for marten to follow up the pole. If a 120 body-grip trap on a coni-bracket is used, fix some fir boughs over the top of the trap so the marten will not jump over the trap, but will pass through it. If you set a foothold trap, it can be lightly fastened to the pole in front of the bait. Fastening the bait to A marten box set with a 120 body-grip trap on a the underside of the end of the leaning pole with simulated bait in back of the box. pole makes the marten work harder to get at the bait and that work happens on the trap pan. Cover the bait with fir boughs to hide it from birds. Fasten the trap chain to the pole so that a caught marten will hang from the pole where it will die quickly and be safe from furchewing mice. Lure and a flagging of Two variations of a leaning pole set. A 120 body-grip trap game bird or attached to coni-bracket for a pass through to the bait or a poultry feathers helps foothold trap at the end of the pole with the simulated bait attract marten attached under the pole, covered from birds view. to the set. Scent lures are 8

available that work in freezing weather. In addition to those, I also use skunk essence mixed with petroleum jelly as a call lure. Beaver meat is my preferred bait, with muskrat ranking second. Marten boxes (a baited enclosure) can also be attached along the leaning pole with a body grip trap guarding the box entrance. Wooden boxes or “newspaper boxes” are most commonly used. I’ve used wooden marten boxes with wire mesh on the back end so marten can see through the box. My wooden boxes have pre-drilled, angled holes so I can easily attach them to poles with short duplex (2-headed) nails. Newspaper delivery boxes will work too. Newspaper boxes usually stack inside each other for easy transport and are sold by trapper supply dealers. Narrow slots need to be cut in the sides of the marten boxes so the springs of a set 120 body-grip trap will slide into the slots and maintain the trap in an upright position. A limber fir bough arched over the box and through each spring’s loop will keep the trap steady. Place bait in the back of the box before setting the trap. I prefer 120 body-grip traps for marten because they kill very quickly. The Conibear trap was invented by Frank Conibear in 1951 to provide a humane trap. Often, the 120 trap and marten are found still in the same position they were when the trap snapped. The 120 (and larger) body-grip traps have a safety hook on each spring. Remember to unhook the safety springs before leaving the set. Marten boxes make very effective sets. The bait is hidden, and the trap and bait are generally protected from bad weather. Marten cannot get to the bait without passing through the trap. The trap can be set most efficiently with the trigger at the bottom, so the marten drags its belly over the trigger wires rather than trying to squeeze under trigger wires set at the top. I put two small sticks under the jaws to elevate the trap and allow the trigger to function smoothly. Conipans, attached to the trigger wires, can also increase trap efficiency. After attaching the coni-pan, the trigger wires need to be bent so that when the trap is set, the coni-pan lies at an up-sloping angle into the box allowing the marten to try to squeeze over the top. Leaning pole and marten box sets will catch a lot of marten, but they require a lot of preseason preparation and equipment. The “coni-bracketed body-grip trap set on the side of a tree” which I described in Out-Smart’en Marten – Part 1 in the November issue, is my favorite marten set. It doesn’t take much gear, doesn’t require pre-season preparation, is easy to make along any marten tracks you find, and does not have height or diameter restrictions. If you missed Part 1, get it and read it! Once you get your hands into marten fur, you’ll be hooked. TRAPPING |

DECEMBER 2014

FISHING

Perch on the ice

There are few things tastier than fresh perch. Learn some sure-fire ways to fill your bucket. –By Paul C. Fielder

erch fishing through the ice is just plain, simple fun. I enjoyed it decades ago when I took my kids ice fishing for perch, and I still enjoy it today. Perch fishing through the ice is great for kids because casting accuracy isn’t normally a problem. And if they are each fishing through their own hole in the ice, YOU are not spending all your time getting them untangled unless YOU drilled their holes too close together. There are usually plenty of perch to go around for everybody–so here’s my story about how I like doing it. I like to keep it safe and simple so I can easily move around on the ice until I find fish willing to bite. If I can’t carry everything I need in my two hands, it’s not simple enough. I carry a light weight Mora 6-inch manual ice auger in one hand to drill my holes in the ice. After 20+ years, I just got new blades for it, so it will easily drill the holes for me. In my other hand, I carry a 5gallon bucket which holds everything I need for putting fish into the bucket: my rod & reel, a board, lures, ice strainer to skim ice, needle-nose pliers for hook removal problems, plastic bags to keep gear from getting slimed up, and a container of dried & crushed egg shells.

After I drill a hole or two, I’ll put the board on top of the bucket for my seat while I’m fishing. I use a short, spinning rod and reel combination with about 6-8 pound test line. At the bottom of my line is a Swedish Pimple. I’ll also attach a fly or tiny jig in-line about 18 inches above the pimple to offer another option for the fish. The nickel/silver colored Swedish Pimple in a size 3 (1 ½ inches long) is the only real perch lure I use. I replace the treble hook with the single hook that comes in the package so I can bait it and get fish off of it quicker and easier. I also put the yellow and red plastic flappers (also in the package) on either side of the single hook. A perch eye (or two) on the single hook of the pimple and on the in-line fly will perfect that set-up. I’ll ask or beg an eye or two from a perch that somebody else has already caught to get me started. The rounded blade of a pocket knife is ideal for scooping out perch eyes. If I have to, I’ll fish “bare hook” until I catch my first perch and then put its eyes on the hooks. People use worms and other stuff on the hooks for perch, but I stay with perch eyes. The inside of a perch eye has a luminescent covering which, along with the black & yellow color in the eye, seems to attract the heck out of perch. A good perch eye can easily catch a dozen perch without replacement. When fishing is decent, I’ll catch about a fifth of my perch on the small fly that I tied above the Swedish Pimple. Doubles are common, one on the pimple and one on the fly. My set-up also takes an occasional trout or pike, but I’m there for the perch.

A single pole is all I use because I like feeling the tap-tap of the perch before setting the hook. I don’t two-pole it, although many people do that successfully. I’ll sprinkle some dried egg shell fragments into the hole from time to time. These bright fragments tend to attract fish as they drift down the water column I’m fishing in. The Swedish Pimple catches perch the best for me when it is fished just off the bottom. Lower it down and when it hits the bottom bring it up a crank. I’ll jig it up and down a foot or two, but most of the time I’m just dancing it up and down a few inches in several short bursts every ten to fifteen seconds. I’ll hold it dead still between jigging with my finger touching the line so I can feel that little, light tap-tap. Granted, sometimes it is a BIG tap of obvious intent, but paying attention to the little details that starts putting perch on the ice all around your bucket. If perch don’t show interest in your efforts, go drill another hole somewhere. Perch are where you (and other fishermen) find them. You usually won’t see a bunch of ice fishermen fishing where there are no fish. Be courteous, keep your distance, but fish where the fish are! If you don’t know already, learn how to fillet perch. You just might catch a mess of them. There are few things better eating than a mess of fried perch fillets.

FISHING |

DECEMBER 2014

TALKIN TROUT

lessons learned There's nothing quite like ice fishing; the cracking and popping of ice, the tug of a fish on the line. Following a few simple safety tips can keep your freezer full of fish, and make sure you get home after a day on the ice. –By Tony Rebo

love to watch the reaction on people’s face when I tell them I am going out ice fishing. I will get the look even from those who live in Montana and have been around these conditions their whole life. The look is one of instant fear. I could compare it to the same look you get when a mother expects a baby to be born, and just when she thinks it’s over, the doctor declares you’re having twins. I am here to tell you that ice fishing is as safe as swinging on a swing in the playground. Of course, you can fall from the swing and land on your head if you are not careful. I want to share with you some ice fishing safety tips from “lessons learned”. Each year when the first cold snap hits northwest Montana, ice will start to build on bodies of water. First, the high mountain lakes will freeze and then the smaller and shallower waters will freeze. The deeper lakes will take all the way until January, and sometimes even February, before they will freeze. My wife is convinced that I personally am the ice expert. She will never go fishing with me until I have tested the ice first. Here are my safety tips. Enter the ice slowly and listen for sounds, like cracking ice. Pay attention to shifting ice; if the ice moves, it is best to stay off of it. Carry a long pole or walking stick. If you have an auger, carry it lengthwise across your body. If you should fall through the ice, the long object in your hand will span the hole and will help you to pull yourself back onto the ice. This method is much safer than my “lesson learned”. My lesson happened on McGregor Lake a few years back. It was early March and the ice had started to break away from the shoreline. The fishing was unbelievable and you could expect to catch a limit of lake trout as fast as you could drop your line in the water. When I reached the lake, there was a small gap between the shore and the ice. You have to understand that a small gap to me means “a space I can span by getting a running start and hurling myself into the air and landing on the opposite side of the ice.” The problem with this is that I had an ice auger and all my gear. I packed my gear into a sled and pulled it behind me. It is hard to fling yourself in the air while pulling a sled. Now enters the problem. I have my fishing partner to think about. Yes, it is true; white men can’t jump and neither can my wife.

TALKIN TROUT |

DECEMBER 2014

Watching her jump is actually painful. I just can’t understand why the female species finds it so difficult to jump. When my daughters were playing high school basketball, I would coach them on how to jump. Their idea of jumping was to stand on their toes and reach. They would say, “Did you see how high I jumped for that rebound, Dad?” Yep, I sure did. Big air (are you kidding me?). Now, in all fairness to my wife, it may be hard for her to jump because of the

“

suffering a nasty dog bite, I would think she would be sympathetic to the cause. Okay, so I ask the question that is on everyone’s mind, “Why not, what is wrong?” Once again, I get the look. “Well, for starters, the 8-foot board barely touches the ice. And how do you know the ice is strong enough to not break when you start to cross?” “Because I just know,” I told her. “So, really you are not going to cross?”

It is amazing that when the fishing is good, it takes over my thought process and I will become the smartest and most resourceful dude on the ice.” amount of clothes that she wears. Many of you will notice in the latest picture of her and her fish, she wore quite a bit of clothes. Her mix and match outfit is always the talk of the ice. Normally, she has on so much attire that she will take up to two hours to move 100 yards to a hole. With that being said, I know that jumping to the ice is out of the question. It is amazing that when the fishing is good, it takes over my thought process and I will become the smartest and most resourceful dude on the ice. I knew exactly what I needed, and in no short order I found two 8 ft. pieces of lumber in someone’s yard. They were just lying there, and really, what are they going to build in this weather? If it just wasn’t for their dog that bit a large hole in my woolies. Anyway, I laid the lumber from the shoreline to the ice, and ooh la la, an instant bridge was built. Now, I quickly gathered my sled and gear, and told my wife to waddle close behind as we were burning daylight (a phrase that I have stolen from The Duke himself). My wife then gave me the look, which in turn stopped our progress. Good gravy woman! (Only today I can still say that and feel good about it.) “Now what?!” “I am not crossing this open water on those two rotten boards. Are you stupid?” she yells. Okay, really, is that mean or what? I just spent the last 30 minutes sneaking through peoples’ yards trying to find something to span the gap so SHE can catch fish. After

“Nope, and that’s my final answer. I don’t need to phone a friend to see that this is as dumb an idea as you have ever had.” “Fine, we will see who catches fish, as I will be the one on the ice and you will be in the truck watching. Oh, and by the way, if I had known an hour ago that you weren’t coming, I would have jumped the gap to the ice, so there.” Of course, all of this was said as I was halfway across the ice, and I knew she couldn’t hear me. Like I said, it was a great day of fishing and I caught my limit in no time. When I arrived back at the edge of the ice I noticed the lumber was gone. Someone had pulled it back onto the shore. What the heck!? I calmly yelled to my lovely bride for assistance and she came running. She looked at me and then at the lumber. She spoke ever so softly, “Is there a problem?” OK fine, “Lesson learned.” In all seriousness, it is best to be prepared for winter conditions and ice fishing. Bring extra clothes and socks in the event you get wet. Let someone know where you are going. Four inches of ice is safe, but six is better. Wear good footwear (cleats), and stay dry. Bring water to drink and snacks. Ice fishing can be as fun as you make it. Stay safe and good fishing.

outdoor veteran

OUTDOOR VETERANS

tina resch A

year ago, I was blessed with meeting one of the funniest, most genuine, selfless, big-hearted, and undoubtedly most patriotic veterans I’ve had the pleasure of encountering. I chose her to highlight in our Outdoor Veteran’s profile without hesitation. Thankfully, she agreed. Tina A. Resch was born on January 5, 1978 in Albany, OR. By default, she states. She should have been born in Libby, but her parents were in Oregon with family at the time. Tina, her sister, and parents returned to Libby before Tina was two months old. She grew up under the shadow of the Cabinet Mountains and has always loved and appreciated everything about her secluded home town. She hunted deer in the local mountains with a trusty 30.30 as a youngster. Fishing with her family & friends has been huge to her. To this day, her favorite way to fish is with a hook and worm near a logjam on the Fisher River, hoping for a feisty rainbow to take the bait. After graduating high school, Tina followed family ways and joined the Army. Her father, John, was in the Army, and her grandfather, Harry Moe, is a Navy veteran. To this day, Tina has served our country proudly for 18 years. She has reached the ranking of Staff Sargent, done three tours in Iraq, and is a CBRN (chemical, biological,

radiological, & nuclear) expert. While overseas, Tina would keep her whole town up to date by writing letters to the editor of her local newspaper. Heartfelt, informative, humbling, and of course, humorous, the letters showed locals a side not often seen of war (and voiced her cravings for home town food). Most importantly was the lesson that not all Iraqis were bad. She faced all these tours bravely, head-on, saying “I wouldn’t say that I’m real scared about it, because I know God will protect me when I need to be protected and God will take care of me when I need to go home. As long as I keep that attitude, I should be alright.” These days, Tina is still active in the Army Reserves and is staying in Seattle, living her occupational dream of becoming a crane operator. The arduous work and long hours are nothing new to her after her experiences in the Army. While still an apprentice, she is admired and respected by all her coworkers, and has the potential, skill, and drive to be the best crane operator out there, hundreds of feet in the air, facing it bravely, like she has everything in life. Tina says the one thing she would like to share with today’s youth is to keep our woods clean. She told me of coming home and

–By Kori Erickson

floating the Kootenai, picking up bags and bags of garbage. Quite simply, pack it in pack it out. She doesn’t make it home to the Kootenai Valley as much as she’d like, but still makes time for fishing with her family and her friend’s children, passing on the traditions she learned as a girl in the same waters. If any of you see her, know her, or are blessed with being introduced to her, I implore you, let her know how grateful you are to her for serving our country with such honor and respect. She’s done us all quite proud.

Making a list, checking it twice –By Paul C. Fielder Angela Montana wrote a recent article about the things we forget to take with us when we go hunting. It reminded me of my hunt/camp/fish list that I made long ago and check at least twice before leaving on extended outdoor adventures. Like a pilot’s checkoff list before flying, I would go through my check list of things that I either should pack with me, or don’t need, and cross off each item. I’d circle items that needed to be packed at the last minute. But at least I would not forget stuff because I didn’t think of it. I’d make many copies of my list so I could review a new copy for each adventure. You might want to use my list to start with, and modify it with your ideas for your list. Your list might generate Christmas shopping hints that would be included in your list. I am certainly not saying that you’ll need all this stuff for your hunting or outdoor adventures, but starting with a list like this–it’s hard to forget much. • Hunting/fishing/trapping licenses & tags, copy of regulations, maps (highway/topo) • Guns (rifles, shotguns, pistols), ammo for each, shell holders, appropriate gun cleaning kit • Bow, arrows, release, bow case, broadhead sharpener, face camo, face mask • Binoculars, spotting scope & tripod, range finder, GPS, eyeglasses, sun glasses • Knives (hunting & pocket), knife sharpener, bone-saw, hatchet • Pack frame, day pack, rubber gloves game bags, deer cart, gambrels, deer hoist, pulley • Scents, cover scent, deer/elk calls, predator calls, decoys OUTDOOR VETERANS

DECEMBER 2014

• Traps, snares, stakes, trap hardware & setting gear, fleshing beam, stretchers • Tent, ground cloth, cots, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, wool blanket • Wall tent, ridge pole, support poles, metal stakes, rope, Sheppard’s stove and supports, firewood, charcoal • Gas or propane cook stove, lantern, propane cylinders, stove fuel gas • Shovel, camp ax, saw, filled chain saw, saw gas & bar oil • Camera/film, toilet paper, survival blanket, fire starter/newspaper • Water bottle, water filter, water bag, containers of camp water

• Blue tarp, sheets of plastic, ropes, cord, large plastic garbage bags, baggies • Head lamp, mag-light, flashlights, spotlight, extra batteries, whistle, glow sticks, laser signal light, mirror • First aid kit, large role adhesive tape, butterfly bandages, gauze, moleskin, aspirin, medication, bee sting kit • Shave kit, toothbrush, nail clippers, lotion, hand soap, wash cloth, towel • Tire chains, tarp, oil, gas can, jumper cables, tow strap, tool box, flares, duct tape

Continued on page 34. 13

SPORTSMANS MEDS

Meditation: Labor of love –By Pastor Jim Sinclair

ell, it’s December, big game hunting season is behind us and Christmas is on the way. It’s always a busy time for me, not only as a pastor, but as a knife maker as well. Every year I take on several orders that have to be completed before Christmas. A custom knife is time consuming and has some precise methods that must be followed to ensure a quality knife that will last for years. It all begins with a high quality steel that will hold a good edge. My favorite knife steel is ATS-34. Once the correct steel is obtained, I then trace the selected pattern and profile the blade. The grinding is next. I prefer a hollow grind. This stock removal process takes a series of belts from 60 grit to 400 grit and a good eye. After the grinding, I drill all the holes in

their proper places, and the blade is now ready for the furnace. The knife must be tempered or the blade will have no performance in the field. Next, I wrap the knife in a special foil so that it won’t scale from the heat, and then it goes into the furnace for 30 minutes at 1900 degrees. This is a hardening process. A knife that is hardened is not tempered. The hardened knife is far too brittle for using. Next, we put the knife back in the furnace after cooling and tempering it. This is done with much lower degree heat and the knife soaks in it. This process is what makes the knife ready for use in the field. The process then goes on; buffing, handling, bolstering, and final finishing. The end result is a very nice tool that will last a lifetime if taken care of.

This entire process made me reflect once again on the teachings of Christ. The good book speaks about hardened hearts; a heart that is not tempered with love will always live in want. Mark 8:17-18 17 But Jesus, being aware of it, said to them, "Why do you reason because you have no bread? Do you not yet perceive nor understand? Is your heart still hardened? NKJV A heart tempered with love will always perform in the field (life). 1st Corinthians 13 says it all…check it out. Keep livin the life.

Medicine: It’s just a cut –By Raf Viniard

eing a Kentucky farm boy, I carried a folding pocket knife everywhere I went, and still do to this day. I have worn out many blue jean pockets where my pocket knife finally busted the bottom seam. Yes, I have lost a few over the years. I am not as bad now as when I was a kid. When we hayed the cattle in the winter, my job was to cut the strings and kick the fleeces off the trailer while Dad drove the tractor. I was always sticking it in the next bale of hay and forgetting to put it back in my pocket. My Dad would tell me, “Boy, them things don’t grow on trees and I will find that in my tractor tire or in a cows foot.” Of course, we never did. After a few days of him chastising me for losing another knife and him having to dig into his pocket to hand me his knife, I know the thought crossed his mind that his knife was next to join the abyss of lost boyhood knives. He always broke down and bought me another cheap Barlow knife from our local feed store–99 cents with purchase of feed. However, as I got older, I learned the value of a good sharp knife and the many uses it had. Why would anyone need a knife all the

time? There is not enough room in this publication to tell you how many times or how my pocket knife has saved the day for not only myself but others around me. It has fixed broken vehicles, and picked splinters from my hand. While in the military, it solved many problems that would have ordinarily cost the taxpayers millions waiting on a bureaucrat’s solution or a million dollar replacement part. My honey has a fit when I cut a piece of summer sausage or a steak with the same knife she knows I just…you fill in the blank! My knuckles still bare the scars of it folding up on my fingers as a kid skinning animals from my trap line and other critters that were supper or money in the bank from my outdoor escapades. Mom was always making me wash my hands with bleach after skinning a rabbit–you know the infamous Rabbit Fever Syndrome warning. Granted, kids and things are not what they were when I was growing up. When you got cut, there was no crying, sniffling or running to the hospital for stitches. In fact, it was best that Mom or Dad did not see the large gash and blood streaming across the floor.

You might just lose your knife for a few days for being careless, or worse, be taken to the local health department for a tetanus shot. I hated needles. You run in the house (if Mom was not home or seen) or to the hog barn (if Mom was home or seen), wash it off and pinch it until it stopped bleeding. Splash some iodine on it or in it, gritting your teeth because the stinging burn of the iodine was worse than the actual cut with a dull blade. Next, you threw a bandage around it and pressed on. Oh yeah, never forgetting to clean up all the evidence of the mishap. The bandage was already going to require a lot of careful explaining. So in summary, if you cut yourself, clean the cut, evaluate, medicate and protect. On a more serious note, get a tetanus shot, and if you want to learn more about how to take care of a cut, check out the link below by Dr. James Hubbard. http://www.thesurvivaldoctor.com/2011/ 09/28/skin-lacerations-how-to-treat-a-cutscrape-gash-stab-wound/

SPORTSMAN’S MEDS

DECEMBER 2014

Buffalo

A HUNTER’S LIFE

Harvesting a buffalo is something most could only ever dream about. Harvesting a buffalo surrounded by close friends and family is nothing short of awesome. –By Toby Walrath

he wind pierced our clothes in frigid temperatures as we followed tracks through snow nearly four feet deep. It had been a long day and the miles of the morning were taking their toll. The massive animals, now three in total, had finally stopped and were facing us at 80 paces. My beaver fur mittens wrapped firmly around the trunk of a Lodge Pole, supported the .338 magnum my wife Kate gripped as she bore down intently on the largest buffalo in the herd. I’ve heard it said countless times that hunting buffalo is as easy as stepping out of your truck, firing a round or two and asking a rancher to load it on the truck bed so you can go about the business of butchering the meat. The events leading up to Kate’s successful buffalo hunt were anything but easy, and the reward was the best game meat we’ve ever eaten. It all started with Kate telling me she drew a buffalo tag. Knowing that the buffalo tag is tough to draw and there’s usually a waiting list, I had my doubts. I looked up her drawing status on the website and there it was; confirmation of an either sex buffalo tag. “I told you I drew the tag!” she exclaimed. She was right. The permit was good from about mid-January until February 15th. As winter snows pile up, the buffalo will leave the National Park Boundaries outside West Yellowstone, where hunters can access them on public or private lands. A hotline number is set up by MT FWP with updates on the numbers of buffalo outside the park boundary as the season progresses. With each passing day, the outlook for buffalo seemed to grow more abysmal. The bison weren’t leaving the park. I called upon a friend who had spent years as a snowmobile guide in West Yellowstone. Jerry had contacts in Kate’s hunting area, and I called them every few days to see if there were any changes. Finally, on February 13th, just two days before Kate’s tag would have expired, the words “there are a few buffalo out of the park” echoed through my phone. In three hours, our two year old son Kaden, our friends Travis, Jerry and his wife Becky were headed south through the Bitterroot Valley and arrived at Jerry’s friend Dave’s basement in West Yellowstone at 3 am. A shot fired from Kate’s .338 a hundred yards from the highway provided confidence that the accuracy hadn’t changed in our haste to travel. We stepped off the snowmobile trail and onto the county road where four bison walked in our direction a mile away. Although we could see the animals, it is illegal to shoot them while they are standing on a maintained roadway, including the many miles of snowmobile trails in the area. The bison use the roads and trails for easy travel, and after finding bison, it becomes a waiting game for the animals to step off the road. As the animals made their way down the road and onto a groomed trail, all we could do was follow. And follow and follow. We followed on our snowmobiles and then on foot, and it’s surprising just how fast bison can walk. Along the way, another hunter shot one of the four buffalo but inadvertently left the biggest one for Kate. It took a lot of patience to wait until they stepped off the trail and pushed through the deep snow. The tracks they made were the only reason Kate was able to catch up to them in the powder, reaching almost to her shoulders. Now we were in a standoff. The bison were aware of our presence and faced us. The deep snow and thick trees compounded an already tense situation. Waiting for a broadside shot amidst the pines was more reminiscent of elk hunting and not the “show up and shoot” scenario I’ve heard so many times. After ten minutes, the biggest buffalo in the group turned and just

A HUNTER’S LIFE

DECEMBER 2014

TOP: Toby, Kate, their son Kaden and several other friends and family members pose with Kate’s buffalo. BOTTOM: Snowmobiles and sleds made quick work of hauling out the enormous harvest.

as I was about to say the word “shoot”, the rifle barked, then barked again. Both shot’s hitting their mark just two inches apart. It was Valentine’s day and we were only a half mile from my truck where Becky was keeping an eye on Kaden. Our friends arrived with snowmobiles at the sound of the shots, and in a matter of hours, we had the meat stacked on sleds headed for Dave’s house. After dividing up generous portions of meat for the people who helped us, we still had more meat than my family could eat in a year. The huge hide will hang on our cabin wall on Bull Lake, and the bleached skull adorns our living room. The memories of the hunt, the friends who made it possible and the best Valentine’s Day ever will remain in our hearts, reminding us that friends and hunting experiences don’t end with the report of a rifle. 17

WING SHOOTERS

Going for grouse –By Jason Badger

“

I grabbed my trusty old Remington 870 and headed down a nearby creek drainage. It was more of a trickle really, but was just the kind of quiet place a flock of blue grouse prefers to water. I hadn’t gone more than one hundred yards when I put up the first grouse and scored a clean double.”

here are so many game species to choose from in northwestern Montana that I have trouble dedicating as much time as I would like to each one. Grouse are one of the many birds that I dearly love to hunt. However, I rarely have the time to devote to their pursuit. When I do get the opportunity to go on a grouse foray, I like to make the most of my time and effort. Since I do not have a four-legged friend to accompany me, and pardon the pun, but point me in the right direction, here are some tactics I use. Locally, most grouse are harvested incidentally by big game hunters while in transit to or from a favorite hunting spot. I find this unfortunate, because grouse hunting can offer great sport and wonderful table fare. Here are some tactics I employ to up my odds of success and make grouse hunting a little more sporting. One of my most successful and least strenuous grouse hunting tactics is hiking gated roads. There are a seemingly infinite number of gated roads in our area, and they provide great access to all three of our forest grouse species. The key, in my opinion, is timing. There is a window in the morning, and another in the afternoon, when the grouse are found picking gravel on these old roads. I focus most of my efforts from 9:00 am to 11:30 am, then again from about 4:00 pm to sunset. Of course, this doesn’t mean these are the only hours grouse are to be found picking gravel; these are simply the times I prefer, because I feel I am most successful during these hours. Additionally, the mid to late morning window can provide a much needed change of pace to the serious archery hunter. I have harvested many grouse while taking a break after being beat up by a grueling elk hunt. Another tool in my grouse arsenal is still hunting clear cuts. The age of the clear cut is

of obvious importance here. Too fresh and there is not enough forage to attract the birds. Too old and visibility may be close to zero. I like to find and hunt cuts that have some scattered large timber, perhaps a few dense stands of regeneration, and a lot of huckleberries. This method can be a little more demanding than hiking gated roads. High-stepping through tall huckleberry brush on a steep hillside can take a lot out of you. Be sure to pack plenty of food and water, and hunt smart. If given a choice, I will often hunt down a finger ridge to a skid road below. In many cases, there may be three or four roads to hunt in between before working your way back to the top. My third method is hunting water. This is perhaps my least reliable, and therefore the least used tactic. Not every drainage is going to be suited for this type of hunt. I personally prefer a draw with a road that wraps around it so I can hunt my way down from the road crossing, and then cut either direction once I’m done and hit the road to hike out. Visibility is going to be another determining factor in this style of hunting. Flushing a grouse will do no good in a dog hair-thick stand of lodgepole or hemlock. There needs to be enough room for target acquisition and shot placement, as well as marking downed birds for retrieval. This latter hunting style provided me one of my most memorable grouse hunts. I had spent the morning bowhunting for elk with a couple of friends. Beastly heat and uncooperative elk convinced us to throw in the towel around 9:30 am. While my companions napped in the shade by the pickup, I grabbed my trusty old Remington 870 and headed down a nearby creek drainage. It was more of a trickle really, but was just the kind of quiet place a flock of blue grouse prefers to water. I hadn’t gone more

than one hundred yards when I put up the first grouse and scored a clean double. I only went another hundred yards or so before crossing the creek and heading back up the other side. I was caught completely off guard when the next flock exploded at my feet. One hurried shot brought down my third and final bird. I was back at the pickup enjoying a cold soda in less time than it took to tell this story. I feel grouse are an underrated game species. While most conventional grouse tactics don’t apply in our region, hunters can still target them fair chase and find consistent success. This is also a great way to introduce new hunters to our sport. If you haven’t already, give grouse hunting an honest try. I think you will find it fun and challenging.

WING SHOOTERS

DECEMBER 2014

CAMP FIRE TALK

Trophy down...now what?

PART 2 You’ve got a nice trophy on the ground, but do you know how to properly handle and preserve it? –By Tim Patton, Owner, TK Taxidermy

ast month I talked about how to properly care for your downed trophy from field to the taxidermist’s shop. This year’s big game season is over, but the memories are still fresh. Hopefully you killed a trophy, and it made it to your taxidermist safe and sound. In a few months you can relive that memory again when they call you to tell you it is ready for pick up. Now, let’s look at small mammals and fish care when taking them to your taxidermist. Small mammals should remain whole and frozen solid. Make sure the hair is laid down and as straight as possible. If you are shipping the animal to your taxidermist, package the animal in an insulated box/foam cooler. You can use household fiberglass insulation, and overnight the package to ensure the animal will not spoil. Most taxidermists will not accept the animal if the spoil process has already started and the hair is slipping from the hide. Hide preparations are so important in the field before the animal is shipped or brought to the taxidermist shop to ensure a quality mount. If the animal is wet when harvested, allow it to drip dry, but keep away from heat. Keep the animal as cool as possible. If the fur is muddy and/or bloody, gently rinse the animal, but be gentle with the fur. Fish: Do NOT place fish in a wire basket or on a stringer. To ensure good color of the fish, take plenty of pictures of the fish in detail, this will ensure proper color matching and a much happier customer when completed. Place a wet paper towel in between the pectoral fins (located on each side of the fish, around where the head meets the body), and any part of the fish that touches the skin after removing from the water. Otherwise, it will begin to discolor and will be harder to match when painting. Get an old cloth, wet it and wrap the entire fish with it. Be sure the rest of the fins are flat before wrapping, because broken fins, most of the time, are not repairable. Get fish into ice if possible. If not, keep cool and away from other fish. If other fish come into contact with the skin of your trophy, it will discolor the fish. Once the fish has been wrapped in a wet cloth, place it into a plastic bag and lay it flat into a cooler or freezer if possible. If you freeze your fish, be very careful with the fins; they become very fragile. Dropping items onto it or moving your trophy fish around in the freezer may damage or break the fins off. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO UNWRAP YOUR FROZEN FISH. Damage will occur to the scales and body of the fish, and it will be very hard to repair. If the fish is damaged during

CAMP FIRE TALK |

DECEMBER 2014

or before the fish is given to the taxidermist, don't be alarmed. Most of the taxidermists today specialize in fiberglass reproduction mounts and can bring your trophy back to life with a reproduction. If you are a catch and release person, and want that trophy catch mounted but want to let the fish go for another day of fishing, don't worry, we can fix that to. Take a picture of your fish, along with the length and girth of the fish, to your taxidermist and you will receive a mount that is often hard to distinguish from a skin mount–right down to the scales. A fish will lose its coloration shortly after being caught. A good color photograph immediately after the catch may enable the taxidermist to duplicate the natural color tones of that particular fish. Most people cannot tell the difference between the reproductions and the real thing. Trophy Care: Okay, you have your trophy home, but the preservation of that trophy is not over. Here are a few tips to maintain that trophy of a lifetime. Once the costumer takes the trophy home, there's not much to do but keeping it dusted. The biggest concern most taxidermists have is mounting your trophy on the wall. Always ensure the mount is secured into a stud behind the sheet rock. Screws in the sheet rock alone will not hold the mount. The mount will eventually fall off, and the first thing to come into contact with

the floor is the face. Neglecting to secure it properly will be an additional cost to the costumer when it's brought in for repair. Few mounts can be repaired once glued and dried. Most taxidermists require a down payment of at least half in order to start the mount, and the rest to be paid when the mount is done before the customer can take the mount home. A contract will be signed by the customer agreeing with these terms. The customer can also make payments as the mount progresses if they choose. Most taxidermists will work with the customer to ensure the process is as painless as possible. Timelines can vary depending on the time of year and how the animal is mounted. Some taxidermists send their hides out to be tanned, rather than tanning on-site, which can take some time within itself. Taxidermists will give you an approximate time it will be ready for pickup. Hopefully the tips I have imparted you with over the last two editions of Montana Woods N Water will provide you and your taxidermist of choice with a trophy or mount that you will be proud of for years.

LOCAL CELEBRITIES

ABOVE: Caleb harvested this nice Muley buck in Central Montana.

ABOVE: Kyle Wengerd of Sanders County took his first bull with a bow.

ABOVE: Roland B. Durocher of Great Falls, Montana with an amazing bull elk.

ABOVE: Chris Borntreger Jr connected with this rutting buck just outside of Plains. RIGHT: Tony Hochstetler poses with his 2014 buck.

LOCAL CELEBRITIES

DECEMBER 2014

LOCAL CELEBRITIES

ABOVE: Titus Kaufman & Landon Hofer of Eureka both harvested nice looking Muley bucks in Eastern Montana.

ABOVE RIGHT: Joe Waldoch grips an impressive Sanders County 9 X 9 he believes was killed by wolves by all the tracks around the carcass and in the surrounding area.

ABOVE: Travis Ellis poses with his nice 5x4 Whitetail buck.

LEFT AND ABOVE: Dean Golemis shot both of these on the same day in Sanders County! Amazing luck!

We are always looking for photos of Local Celebrities enjoying all Montana has to offer. Send your photos to Raf@montanawoodsnwater.com, subject ‘Local Celebrities’.

LOCAL CELEBRITIES

DECEMBER 2014

HUNTING

Moose over honey, continued from page 6. weeks left. The hubby arrives home with yet another moose hunting kickback. The weather is getting colder, so he decided I needed a camouflage coat. Camouflage isn’t my thing, but I tried it on and was surprised at how much I liked it. What girl doesn’t like presents? My man and I decide to take my new coat out for a hunt. We arrive at our destination and park the camper. There is maybe 45 minutes of daylight left and we

trigger. “Click” is all it did. I turned and looked at my husband with big eyes while saying a few colorful words. He took the gun, and just like the knight in shining armor that he is, he fixed and reloaded it within seconds. I am thankful that moment happened, because it gave me a pause and my heart was not racing quite as quickly as it was before. I positioned myself and the gun again, put my crosshairs on him and pulled the trigger. I hit him. He ran off. Then a song lyric popped into my head…”Shot through the heart and your to blame...

“

I find a rest and steady the 50 Beowulf loaded with 400 grain hollow points. My heart is beating through my chest, and I am hyperventilating. I put the crosshairs on my target and the pull the trigger.” agree to take advantage of it. We hike ¼ mile down the road, and off to our right we spot a moose–a for real moose! Oh my gosh! The time has come. I have rehearsed this moment so many times in my head. I find a rest and steady the 50 Beowulf loaded with 400 grain hollow points. My heart is beating through my chest, and I am hyperventilating. I put my crosshairs on my target and pull the

HUNTING

DECEMBER 2014

darlin’ you give love a bad name” by Jon BonJovi. God is a funny guy. Suddenly, we realize we have little to no daylight left, so we gather our gear and start tracking. We have head lamps on and it’s getting darker by the minute. I am amazed that I am rather liking this; this running around in the forest, tracking something by flashlight, a bit afraid because it’s grizzly

country. Finally we see a good tracks and some blood on a blade of grass. Ten feet away we spot his dead, lifeless body. It was then that I shed a few silent tears and walked over to touch the animal. He was so beautiful. I did pray to his spirit and thanked him for giving his life to feed my family. The reality of this quest is that it has been divinely guided from the beginning. You see, my Mother-in-law actually received three moose tags in her lifetime and filled them all. She passed away last March and is deeply missed. My husband has mentioned that he thinks I got “Nana’s” luck because I got the tag this year, and I think he is right. True to things most important to Nana–like spending time together as family and love– my husband, children and I have experienced fun memorable times from this particular venture in our lives; time together that we otherwise might not have made. I believe that all of this was Nana’s way of letting us know she is still with us and taking care of us. I wonder what new escapade she has in mind for our family next?

PINK CAMO

–By Mitzi Stonehocker

his year has been “interesting”, to say the least! As I look back and digest what each month brought our way, I reflect. Life is a journey, what we make of it is a memory, how we live is what we leave our children with, and when it ends is in God’s hands. It is bitter cold outside as I write this article, the deer are moving and in the rut, and life cycles are in motion. December memories are of the Christmas Holiday, snow, family gatherings, presents and the New Year. Hunting season is over, the freezer is full (hopefully), and the harvest from the garden is in storage to be eaten during the coming months. Late season hunts are in motion for those that put in for elk on the east side of the Rockies, the big rack from your buck might be in the early stages of becoming “bragging” rights and hung on the wall, the memory of that hunt remains fresh in your mind. As I myself drink hot coffee, I ponder on the past and one cold December late hunt comes to mind, 1999 was the year my husband and I sold the farm. We were out of debt, but unsure of where we were going in life. The kids had moved out, and as the last box of the past 18 years was loaded into the storage shed, life had revolved around to just “ma and pa”, two dogs and a 30’ pull trailer. New memories and the two cow elk tags we had obtained in the late draw were on our mind. The area we had drawn was new to us, so we relied on a “friend” to help us find the elk that we were assured were bountiful and fat from the hay fields they roamed. It made my mouth water thinking about the elk steaks we were going to be eating, the hamburgers, the roasts. The second week of December was cold and fresh snow was falling. We packed the

pickup, closed up the trailer and drove off to the land of elk! After five hours of driving, we arrived at our destination, and more snow. We met the people we were staying with and our unofficial guide who assured us of the herds coming off the high mountain valleys. We settled in to a night of rest as morning would come early for the two hour drive to the hunting area. We fell asleep with visions of elk on our mind, as the snow continued to quietly fall. At 3 am, we awoke to the sound of an alarm and smelled fresh brewing coffee and heard our host up and getting some breakfast. We grabbed our gear and rifles and loaded into the Ford pickup that would bring us to the best hunt ever. Two hours later, we started up the draw which lead to rolling hills. Snow continued to fall, dawn was approaching and excitement grew. Soon we began to climb. Steep mountain terrain became steeper, the road ended and our host assured us that the elk were close. As the hill became a mountain, we saw them in the far distance. Elk! The chase was on. The man driving the pickup became a mad man. I held on for dear life as we swerved, hitting snow drifts full bore ahead. Snow flying, I hung on for my life, trying desperately to not scream! The pickup was groaning and clawing through the deep drifts, and the elk stood and watched as we approached. We hit a drift and came to a stop. I was told to shoot. “Shoot what?” I whispered. “That cow elk in front of us,” I was told. I scrambled out the door, gun in hand, ready for the easy 50 yard shot at the fat cow elk staring at me. I raised my 7mm to my shoulder and spotted an easy neck shot. I squeezed the trigger. Pop! The elk continued to look at me. I quickly reloaded.

Pop! My husband came up behind me and asked why I was missing. I, in a not so quiet manner, whispered loudly, “I don’t know.” I reloaded again. Pop! My husband had my mother’s 300 Savage. The old cannon was sure to make a hit. Pop! The old girl made the same noise my rifle did. Tired of this game, the cow began to run, taking the rest of the small herd with her. The man who was guiding us jumped out of the pickup asking why I had missed. I assured him I usually don’t miss, and he asked what grain of bullet I was shooting. I was shooting some reloads my dad had done. Then I remembered. Dad had done some light loads for him and mom in their older years to keep from injuring there fragile bones. I had mistakenly grabbed that box of shells, and had nothing else with me. The “pop” I was hearing was coming from the light loads! The elk were gone, and the guide was shaking his head. I hung my head and, yes, I did cry. We had fat cow elk standing 50 yards broad side on an easy-to-reach old road, and they escaped due to our mistake. A lesson was learned, and the freezer was empty. Always check your gun, your box of ammunition and always shoot a couple rounds before the hunt, just to make sure.

Baby, it’s cold outside... Baby it is cold outside! The temperature has been below the teens for a week. The sun shines and it is beautiful, but so dang cold! I was born and raised in Montana; spent 60 years here, yet I don’t remember a fall this dang cold. The freezer and wood shed are both full, the little cabin is warm and toasty and my husband and I are content to watch the deer, pet the dogs and let life coast by. This past year has been full of adventure, and as we look back, we see how wonderful it is to 26

live in Montana at this time in our life. Christmas is fast approaching. Please do not forget the reason for the season. Stop and reflect on the past year and know what a gift life really is. The holiday season is about family and spending time together, and making memory’s for the future generations. Pink camo believes in miracles and I am living with my miracle. My husband Ron just completed a stem cell transplant, and he is my miracle because he survived. He is

thriving, one day at a time, one step at a time and never looking backward, always forward. Yes, hug your family and remember memories are made by living each day to the fullest. Stop and listen. I hear the far away jingle of bells. Merry Christmas!

PINK CAMO |

DECEMBER 2014

“Best Little Motel in Montana”

Dew Duck Inn 406-826-3346

www.dewduckinn.com We wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy new Year!

ANGELA MONTANA

15 yard rush –By Angela Gerych

hen the deer are rutting, hunters know. Mule deer aren’t exactly known for being afraid of anything that moves, in general, but whitetails have a reputation for being very skiddish, which makes hunting them more challenging to many hunters. However, when the rut is in full-force, whitetails seem to forget about their fear of everything—at least they did during a hunt I was a part of in November. While whitetail buck hunting with my friend, Aarron Watrous, during the 2014 rifle season, we weren’t out hiking for more than five minutes before we were confronted by a young buck. A 2 by 2. He was just above us munching away on grass, keeping his eyes on something in the distance that we couldn’t yet see. (It ended up that the young buck was keeping his eye on the group of ladies being coy and frollicking nearby). We instantly turned into statues and remained completely still while watching the youngster that was no more than 15 yards from us. He was oblivious to our existence, probably due to his raging hormones and the wind direction. As he worked his way up out of our sight just over the ridge, we looked at each other silently, laughing (yes, it is possible to silently laugh), just long enough to hear movement on the rocky hillside next to us. Aarron whispered without moving, “There are elk right there,” and motioned up the hill with his eyeballs. At this particular moment, I was still pretty excited about the young whitey buck that didn’t even see us while we were so close to him, so seeing one cow…then another and another and another…walk in single file on the game trail just above us was even more of a rush. We had the baby buck straight up over the hill watching does to the west and some elk just off to the north of us. I kept my eyes on the elk even though neither one of us could harvest an elk on the private property we were hunting on in Hunting District 262. We did not put in for elk permits, and cows are the only sex you can shoot there as of this year. But, it didn’t matter. I have spent a lot

of time hunting elk and, during some hunts, I never saw so much as a calf. To be this close to four cows and a little bull in the back was pretty awesome. They sure are beautiful animals. So, moving forward, the elk took off after being spooked by two other young whitetail bucks that showed up tailing (pardon the pun) about six does. We again stood frozen, watching the bucks harass the does that acted like they wanted nothing to do with the bucks—or was that their method of flirting, much like people? Whatever the case, the does stopped once the wind direction changed and they caught our scent. It was hilarious to watch them group up and sniff the air and blow their warnings to their friends. But they had absolutely no idea where we were. They were also semi-distracted by the young bucks with their noses to the ground running after them. It was pretty awesome to be undetected by so many animals and witness their natural behavior from only a few feet away. There is something magical about being close to a wild animal that has no idea you are even there. Even though I never found a shooter buck while hunting, I call that hunt a success. Congratulations to all hunters who took the time to get out there this season. So, where am I going with this? Well, to summarize, I will say it again like I said it before…It is easy to get caught up in finding a trophy animal while you’re out hunting, but don’t forget to put those rose-colored glasses on and enjoy the adventure from start to finish. You don’t need to actually harvest anything in order to put a fantastic hunting experience in your memory bank. Who’s ready for some ice fishing?!

ANGELA MONTANA |

DECEMBER 2014

KOUNTRY GIRLS

Doing the right thing In your haste to land that big buck or bull, are you always making the best decisions?. –By Kori Erickson

missed out on a heck of a hunting opportunity this year. One that I’ve been kicking myself for almost daily since. It was fading light near the end of general rifle season and a small doe ran across my path. Right behind her was a much bigger bodied deer with its tail tucked and nose to the ground. I said to my friend right away, “That’s a buck!” I whistled quickly (my tactic for stopping a moving deer–don’t knock it, it works) and the bigger deer stopped just in the tree line near a bunch of brush. Gun to my shoulder, safety off, and all I see is a face looking back at me. Large body, thick neck, and a face. No antlers showing in my scope. I walked around, trying for a better view, while this deer stared me down. I approached my friend and asked her if she could see a rack. She couldn’t either. Though it only lasted about 20 seconds, it seemed forever. Then the doe deeper in the trees got impatient. She stomped her foot and took off. The rear deer turned towards her and jolted into the thick brush. Then I saw them, rising gloriously, the golden tines

of a large rack. I chased them into the brush, but that little doe was luring the buck further and further up the hill in the fast approaching dark. I sincerely doubt her mother had any idea how late she was out or exactly what she was up to. I gave up and grumbled to myself all the way down the hill. By the time my friend and I got back to the truck, I had told myself a dozen times that I had done the right thing. First rule of hunting is always know your target and beyond. Though every fiber of my being was telling me that was a buck in my sights, I couldn’t confirm. My strong sense of hunting ethics kept my finger off the trigger, and in the end, I know I made the right choice. Ethics has seemed to be a pretty hot topic this season. Thanks to social media, most of us have been aware of violations all across the state. The most controversial story is that of a free-for-all shootout into a herd of elk near Townsend, resulting in wounded and unclaimed animals, as well as numerous citations, and the seizure of an illegal bull. In a separate incident, an out of state

hunter had his trophy bull elk confiscated because he hadn’t cut his tag out in a timely enough manner to appease the game warden who happened along during the field dressing of the animal. And in another, very sad story, an albino horse near Butte, was shot through the heart while in its corral. A mistaken hunter is suspected, but no one has come forward or been charged. I like to think that all these hunters questioned themselves before committing, what is basically, a crime. Unfortunately, their voice of reason was muffled, and now they have that on their conscience. As for me, mine is clear. I will tell you that I am proud of the choice I made, albeit grudgingly. In our heart of hearts, we all know what is right, even if it’s doing something difficult. We all took the classes or learned from someone we admire. And it’s up to us to pass those ethics along to the next generation to maintain our traditions for those to come.

KOUNTRY GIRLS

DECEMBER 2014

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Making a list, continued from page 13. • Cooking grill, pots, pans, paper plate/bowls, drinking cup, knives/forks/spoons, ladle, spatula, can opener • Coffee pot, filters, matches, paper, aluminum foil, dish soap, pot scrubber, hot pad/leather gloves, pliers • Coolers, ice, playing cards, cribbage board, reading material, scripture • Eggs, bacon, sausage, butter, cheese, oatmeal, salt & pepper, steak, potatoes, veggies, roles/bread, PB&J • Rice mix, canned turkey breast, lentils, taco seasoning, canned tomatoes/beans/soup/stew, ground meat • Jerky, candy bars, energy/granola bars, trail mix, power bars, dried fruit • Coffee, hot chocolate, various beverages, milk, paper towels, writing materials • Socks (heavy & light), underwear, thermal tops and bottoms • Hunting boots, arctic pacs, light shoes/hikers, moccasins, snow seal, hip boots • Pants & shirts (camo, wool, & light weight), fleece top, hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants, T-shirts, shorts • Hats - camo, Stormey-Kromer, wool knit, wide brim, suspenders, belt • Gloves – camo, leather, heavy duty • Heavy camo hunting coat, blaze orange vest(s), Carhart coat, denim jacket, down vests, rain gear • Money, credit card, calling card, cell-phone, contact phone numbers • Tell someone where you’re going, how long you’ll be gone, and how they might contact you & through whom • Fishing rods, tackle box, fishing license, bug dope

February 7-8, 2015 Contact Mike at 406-858-2253 for more information.

Lynch Creek Animal Clinic Alan Marley, V.M.D. Rebecca Hopkins, V.M.D. amarley@blackfoot.net 7273 MT Hwy 200 Plains, MT 59859 406-826-3235 www.lynchcreekanimalclinic.com

CAMP FIRE TALK TOO

Team McDonald collects the bone –By Crystal McDonald

y husband Richard, myself, our oldest son KC and good friend Ryan left Plains headed to Eastern Montana to the Missouri breaks for opening week. My husband had drawn an elk tag and the rest of us had deer tags. We hunted Saturday and Sunday and saw nothing. Monday we headed to another area where Ryan had spotted four bulls. Richard and KC were going to go check them out while Ryan and I glassed for bucks. Before Ryan could even get out of the truck, he said "I have a buck for you Crystal." I thought he was kidding. We were about 500 yards away from where it was bedded down. We decided to sneak up for a closer look and reduce the distance for a possible shot. Richard and KC decided they would wait on the bulls since it was two different directions from the truck and wanted to watch me shoot the buck. So we set off to close the distance on the buck. We got to within about 200 yards where he was still laying in his bed. We peaked up over the ridge and I got ready. Ryan just kept telling me to breathe and that I had all the time in the world. I shot and the buck tried to stand but just fell over. It was awesome! To have my husband and son there was great–another memory made. My husband then took off and went to check out the four bulls. Ryan and KC taught me how to gut my buck. We then watched my husband to see what he was going to do on the bulls. He reported back that they were small so he

decided to pass. The next day was our last day and we were finally able to get the boat on the water in the afternoon. It had been too windy and rainy to take it out earlier during the hunt. It was now or never because we were not going to be able to come back. We glassed and glassed and then finally the bulls were everywhere but still far away, and we were running out of daylight. We finally spotted a group of three nice bulls about 1200 yards away and decided to go for it. KC and Richard took off while Ryan and I anchored the boat. After the boat was secured, Ryan took off after them. I was at the boat watching where they went. I knew my husband had to be close to them. Sure enough. My husband was about 270 yards away when they spooked. He knew it was now or never as they started going up a little knoll and stopped. He didn't have time to range it so he figured it was about 500 yards and held a little high and touched off a round. I heard the shot and tried to see where the bull went. I saw a smaller bull go the top of the knoll and prayed it was NOT the one he shot. I then saw the big one come up the knoll and stop, back up, and then finally go down. Richard was getting ready to shoot again when KC told him to wait, he's hit and he's going down. And down he went. They packed him out in the dark on the last day. It was the best hunting trip I have ever had thanks to the boys. Can't wait till next year.

Local trappers snare awards The Montana Trappers Association (MTA) was recognized as the National Trappers Association’s “Affiliate of the Year” during the MTA annual Rendezvous held at the Fergus County Fairgrounds in Lewistown, Montana in September. The Award was presented to Toby Walrath, President of the Montana Trappers Association by Jim Buell, NTA liaison. Buell received the award on behalf of the MTA from NTA President Chris McAllister at the 55th Annual Convention held in Escanaba, Michigan in July. The National Trappers Association Leadership Award was also bestowed upon Toby Walrath for his dedication to promoting ethical and responsible trapping and trappers nationwide. Additional Awards were given to Montana Trappers Association members Robert “Bob” Sheppard of Ovando, MT. Bob, MTA District 2 sub-Director and Paul Fielder of Thompson Falls, MT, MTA District 1 Director. Bob and Paul received their awards for their involvement as expert witnesses in one of many state lawsuits being filed by environmental activists against the Montana Fish Wildlife and Parks. MTA President Toby Walrath stated; “It is great to see the Montana Trappers Association getting well deserved national recognition for its involvement in protecting our natural resources through trapping. The MTA is making a difference not only in Montana but across the nation.” The Montana Trappers Association is one of 52 affiliates of the NTA headquartered in Bedford, IN. 36

TOP RIGHT: Bob Sheppard of Ovando, MT. ABOVE: Toby Walrath, President of the Montana Trappers Association. BOTTOM RIGHT: Paul C. Fielder. CAMP FIRE TALK TOO

DECEMBER 2014

NEXT GENERATION

RIGHT: Michael Johnson poses with his first buck, taken this fall in the Thompson Falls area. BELOW: Heidi Hochstetler is all smiles after shooting her first buck near Plains.

ABOVE: Bridger Bauer is all smiles over his first Rainbow.

Want to see your picture here? Send your Next Generation photos to Raf@montanawoodsnwater.com, or post them on our Facebook wall.

NEXT GENERATION

DECEMBER 2014