Walking through the Brambles

We (me and Evvy) began our hike off a woods road in Walpole and runs to Surry. There is a wonderful deer camp out there. A long retired travel trailer sits atop granite ledge. The spot boasts of a granite patio with large fire ring. There not one, but two outhouses. The "shitter" below is the deluxe version complete with house phone purely for aesthetic value, various shit house jokes on the wall, and fancy facade. I took great pleasure in escaping the massive swarms of black flies, to make a pit stop.


The whole place has a magical feel to it. There is a path that leads down to a brook. A footbridge crosses a natural granite canal, then it takes you to an interesting spot. Now this looks like a place where sacrifices are made. Another fire ring, and places to sit.

Another path, referred to as the "Psycho Path", leads to a food plot. I decided to look around for deer stands. I found two, one on the ground permanently attached to the trunk of a tree. Another stand, a broken climber left on the ground to rust and die. I didn't look further, but I assume there are old stands all around the food plot. A nice play to hunt to be sure. In the past I have seen an 8 pointer in this area.

The Grand Shitter - a 5 cent fee is charged for seat sanitization.















House phone, grass toilet roll, and five cent fee.

After our thorough exploration of the camp, Evvy and I continued up the trail. I waited for Evvy to work her "antler locator" skills. Evvy was at first content to look for chipmunks, as they are her faves. So I just kept my out for anything that looked like bone.

I came upon a dead porcupine, first spotting the tufts of soft belly fur, entangled with tiny quills. At first, I thought I'd found a cat, because the fur was so incredibly soft. But no cat has quills over course. Then I found the dried up carcass laying there, about 15' away. The remains were complete with skull, spine and all four legs. But skin would have been useless to save. The perp, likely a Fisher, rolled it over and ate from the bottom side up. I scooped up the skull, and placed it inside a discarded milk jug I found.

We came upon a granite ridge. I had not seen this before in other hikes. The last winter wind storms, thoroughly cleared the trees from the ridge. Old Moose sign was everywhere, so I was hopeful we would find an antler. Evvy didn't come through with an antler, but she did find a scapula. It was the size of a large canoe paddle. So, since she was quite satisfied with her treasure, she would be unavailable for finding antlers.


On my own again, I searched and searched through "the pricker bushes", for the elusive antlers. But alas, it was not to be. I emerged with bloody scratches all over my legs. I'll tell people my cats went into a frenzy, and attacked me. The sun was setting, I was getting hungry, so we worked our way back to the truck. The search continues another day.

A Successful Shed Hunt

Small Moose antler, missing three points.

First, this morning 6:30 a.m.  the march of the white tails.  For the last couple of weeks, two small herds of deer have graced the hill across the road from my house.  They first emerged when the hillside was clear of snow.  Ever since then, they have come in the evening just before dusk.  Now they are coming out after dawn.  In the morning, they move from north to south.  In the evening, just the opposite.  All the deer (10-12) appear vigorous, and quite lively.  I have to attribute their good health to a neighbor on Cochrane Rd., who feeds the deer through the    winter.

Yesterday, Evvy and I drove up to Lempster.  We had it on good authority, that we might find some Moose sheds in the vicinity of a "certain undisclosed" road.   So I chose a random spot to park beside the road near a snowmobile trail.  By the way, still plenty of snow up there to snowmobile on.  I put the snowshoes on, and we were off.  I took a reading on my compass, and headed east along the trail.  I looked for Moose tracks crossing the trail, but saw only a few. Evvy of course was content running down the trail, and off the trail.   Suddenly, she appeared from the woods, carrying this shed!  I threw my hands up in the air, and shouted, "yes!".  Evvy was not eager to give up her prize.  She would have been happy as a clam, to gnaw on that antler.  But I grabbed it, and tied up on my back.  I asked Evvy where the other antler was.  She headed down to where she found the first.  I followed, and tried to find the other, or any antlers.  We didn't find the it.  So we continued on down the trail, up hill, and down.  I decided to walk a large square area, and return to the trail later on.   I was limited on time, so I covered only a few square acres.   Occasionally, I would pop out near a house.  I had hoped to be deeper in the woods.  The antler we found was relatively near a road, and a house, along a sunny slope with stands of young Beeches.  On the opposite side of the trail, thicker woods of Spruce, White Pine, and some oaks.  We came upon a bog where it was easy to walk with snowshoes.  I was sure this would be a gold mine.  But it wasn't to be.  Evvy continued to forage for Snowshoe hare, which seem to be plentiful in that area.  Evidently, she was less interested in antlers.  I think the snow is still pretty deep, maybe too deep to find the big sheds.  I will continue the search nevertheless.

Sullivan Bushwhack II

Sunday Evvy and I headed back to the Sullivan/Stoddard boundary near Woods Mill.  There a substantial wetland there, so I thought it would be prime Moose territory.  Quite a bit of snow has melted, but there is still over a foot in many places.  So I put the snowshoes on.  We were out there around 11:00 a.m.   I didn't see any other hiking tracks, so I was hopeful that I might be the first to look for Moose sheds.....any sheds for that matter.  There was a rumor that this area is a hot spot for sheds.  Well.....not

today.  I found a place full of recent activity, but I determined that it was two Moose.  A cow, and her yearling.  There were hanging out in the spruces, and mucky spots.  Plenty of sign, but no rubs, so I was disappointed.  So I shifted my thought to just exploring the wetland, and all it offered.  It was a perfect "sunny 16" (f16) day.  

Mallard drake

I was drawn to the water, as was Evvy.  She walked right into the reeds and laid right down.   A shiver ran down my spine.  But she is a water rat for sure.  We stopped at a clearing, and I sat on a large boulder at the edge of the river that passes through the wetland.  I just sucked the marrow out of the day.  Evvy discovered a chipmunk under the boulder.  She spend some time trying to get that chippy out.  At one point, I could see only her tail from atop that rock.   In the "end" she never did get the chipmunk.

We worked our way around half the area, not concentrating on Moose sheds so much as enjoying the scenery.   I saw a lone Mallard drake floating around.  I wondered if he had been in a flock.  Just what was his story?  The brilliant green of his head and neck was a beautiful flash of color amongst the browns, grays, and blue of the sky.  I'm so thankful spring is breaking out in bits and pieces like this.

Sullivan Bushwhack, etc.

Yesterday, inspired by my recent introduction to "Shed Hunting", I went to an undisclosed location in Sullivan.....must be kept on a "need to know" basis. But seriously, the location was off Bowler Rd.

Climbing stand left hanging til next time

I knew Moose frequented this area, so it seemed likely I might an antler.....or something. I parked near a Nature Conservancy boundary marker, donned snowshoes, and headed off to the northeast with my faithful companion, Evster. We walked around a large wetland area with some open water already showing. I dared not cross it as I had crossed Chandler Meadow last weekend.

At first, the lack of sign of any kind was disappointing and discouraging. Not a single track, or skat. Sure there were signs from months, and years ago, but nothing recent. I thought the environment here was perfect for moose and deer. I still think this to be true.

Ground hunting blind, not far from the climber

We walked endlessly, in large circles, taking extra time to look for the most minute of indications. I came upon some Fisher tracks and followed them for a bit. Then there lying on the snow was a leg. A rear lower leg of a young Moose. The leg was the result of a successful hunt. Killed by a person, the Moose was quartered and hauled away. Evvy decided, promptly the leg would be hers. She dragged the leg around for miles. She would frequently stopped to chew on the hooves, which are apparently her favorite. As she chomped on the prize, I reminded her that she would
not be bringing it home with her. I let Evvy carry this leg with her for some time before I finally took it away, and hung it in a tree. Thank goodness, dogs can quickly move on from disappointment. Otherwise, we might still be there trying to strike a compromise.

It's my opinion that you find more neat things out there, when you leave the trail, so bushwhacking yesterday made sense. Though I'm not familiar with the terrain, I was armed with my GPS, compass, and Topo map of the area. My plan was to walk around the wetland, and return to Bowler Rd. There are several trailheads into the conservancy easement, at least two on Bowler Rd. alone. As we made our way through the woods, I eventually popped out onto one of the conservancy trails. I took the opportunity to walk on the trail for a bit as a break. Previously, the walking wasn't bad, but there were still deep spots in the snow. Deep and soaking wet spots, over the boots wet.

So we walked along until I found a Moose track, very melted but followable nevertheless. Back into the woods once more. Not moments in, I found the climber stand hanging near the ground, probably to be used each year. Nearby, a ground stand had been creating by piling up fallen limbs, and placing a discarded lawn chair inside. A bit farther away, a "Sullivan standard" awaiting its next customer. The door was good construction. I opened the box, out of curiosity. I like to imagine all the potential surprises that might be inside. A corpse? Half a box of Dunkin Donuts munchkins? Who knows? This time, I found only a huge pile of pine cone shells, not even any "TP". But the construction was excellent, and will stand the test of time I'm sure.

Evvy and I walked for hours. I found evidence of only one Moose in the area. Occasional piles of skat of different ages, and no recent tracks. This Moose would be a young one, not much bigger than the hunting victim. I had eaten a Clif Bar, and finished most of my water, so I decided to head back to the truck. The hike was a success even without a shed.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch.......

A Barred Owl sits at the base of a White Pine

For the last couple of weeks, I've had a Barred Owl on my property, very close to my shed. I had seen it fly through the trees at first. Then I saw it perched no higher than about 3' off the snow. The owl had successfully caught a Grey Squirrel, and I hoped he would continue to lower the squirrel population. The tree rats have made pigs of themselves at my birdfeeder, so they would not be missed. I thought it strange the owl would be so dangerously close the ground each day.

I continued to watch. Then Friday morning, as I took Evvy out for her "constitutional". She yanked me down the steps, on to the glare ice. I landed on my ~!@#. I wasn't impressed, as she pulled me through the bird seed and bird crap. Then I looked up at what Evvy was trying desparately to catch. The owl! I could not yell at Evvy enough, I was so mad. I reeled her in, and dragged her back into the house. The owl was now tangled in a briar patch. With thick leather gloves on, I went to the owl and removed it from it entanglement. It barely tried to bite me. I carefully, folded its wings back onto it's sides, and lifted it away. I looked him over carefully, noting that he was blind in the right eye. Not merely blind, he had no iris! How in the world had he survived this long? In addition to his vision issue, one of his talons wasn't working right. I attempted to place him on a perch, but the talon wouldn't hold. So I sat him on top of my generator which wasn't running at the time. He was able to stand at last.


Later that day, when I came home from work, I returned to find him sitting on a bare spot near the brook. I resolved to catch him and bring him to Deb Gode a wildlife rehabilatator in Winchester. I called her and told her what I had. She would meet me in Keene, and check the owl out. It took no more than ten minutes to catch the owl without incident, or injury. I called Deb back and told her I'd be in Keene in a bit. We met at an agreed upon spot. Deb, who is a vet tech in addition to being a rehabilitator, checked the owl for serious injury. She took a look at the blind eye, and was quite astonished by what seemed to be a natural handicap. Otherwise the bird was malnourished, and undersize. His wings were fine, but weak. Deb said she would take the owl to Dr. Rich Righter, who specializes in birds. Then Deb would place the owl in a wild bird refuge. She was hopeful that this owl would survive, and thrive with help. I was so glad. I was checking on him every day while he lived in my yard. I feared he would die soon without help. Now he will live another day, perhaps many more.

Beyond Center Pond

On wednesday, I decided to explore the back side of Center Pond to search for Moose, and/or Deer sign. I didn't bring Evvy because I knew there would be a fairly thick icy crust, and I didn't want her legs to get cut up. The snow out there is four feet deep, more in the drifts.

I thought for sure I'd find deer yards near the end of Center Pond where there is open, running water leading to Chandler Meadows. 

At the bridge on this woods road, I beared off to the right to get closer to the thick brush. Thank god I had snow shoes on. I would never have been able to navigate through this deep snow. I worked my way in to the brush, and out the other side to mostly upland hardwoods, and also spruce. I didn't see a single sign. 

This old Farmall tractor sits awaiting summer, when it will/maybe start and drag felled trees back to camp.

I kept moving north and west along the slope, and came across two rustic camps with no conveniences. I imagined these hangouts would be great get-a-ways in the summer. At the second camp, I followed a trail made with nylon rope, cut in 10" lengths and fashioned into pigtails. Each pigtail was tied to a branch along the way. Soon the wind picked up, and skies grew dark, and squalls of snow blew in. One squall after another came through for about fifteen minutes each time.

I followed the pigtail trail to the "main" woods road that leads eventually toward Robinson Hill.  There are a few trails that break away from the main trail.  I chose to turn left and return to the bridge, where I would go down to Chandler Meadow.   I made my way down to the relief of flatness on the meadow/swamp.   I snowshoed along the snow covered ice, as the wind blew stink.  The wind nearly blew me over.  If the ice had been clear of snow, I would have enjoyed sliding along with the wind.  The snow squalls continued, but I was determined to find some sign of life out there.   I got on to one of the small islands, where I found a moose trail.  A single moose trail.  Nothing recent, but some good rubs on the shrubby spruce trees.   I left the island and headed for an area of thick blueberry bushes and alders.   Lots of places where antlers had been thrashing the plants, but no tracks.  No deer tracks either.   I think chances of finding sheds in this area will be better once some of the snow melts.  Still, I need to focus on habitat, and terrain to locate the moose and deer yards.  I'm getting closer.  I do fear though, that the winter kill this year will be far-reaching.

Grand Central Station: for Moose & White Tails that is.

Lately, I have had the opportunity to go snowmobiling and hunting for "sheds". Twice now, I have enjoyed riding out to an "undisclosed" location near Goshen, in search of elusive deer and moose antlers. I'm told that up north, antlers fetch a good price at $8-$9/lb. I can just see a new reality show like Axe Men, or Ice Road Truckers. Looking for Moose antlers might be called Moose Gold, or North Country Bone collectors.


In stark contrast to the lack of sign seen on the S-G trail, this place was like Grand Central Station for both Moose and Deer. I was at first overwhelmed by the size, and number of game trails. These trails cover a large area. The snow here is still over three feet deep, still we had high hopes. In the end we concluded the moose antlers were well below the snow.


These are Striped Maples(Moose Maple) that have been completely browsed by Moose.

Just one of many, many well worn paths and beds used by both Moose and Deer.

BUT, the second time we went out there, Wednesday, the snow appeared more compact, and maybe somewhat melted. We covered a large area, though I couldn't say exactly how much acreage without a topo. Then, my friend found what looked like a stick, but suspicious enough that he took a closer look. He found a small antler frozen to the ground. He used a small knife to chip away the ice around the antler. The antler appeared to be years old, well gnawed with one tine missing(we suspect), and greenish.

When the snow finally melts in July :-) , we'll go out and scour the ground for the antlers that are sure to litter the area. I have it on good sources, that there may be another such place

Sunapee-Greenway continues

Sunday, February 20th my sister Kim, and I took a path from Cold Spring pond in Stoddard, up to Jackson Hill. The weather could not have been more perfect, bright sunshine and blue skies.

This photo is near the top of Jackson Hill, where the S-G trail intersects with the snowmobile trail

"F". We were not confused, despite this confusing sign.

My intention was to find Fox Brook campsite via the S-G trail. We walked initially up an old woods road until we reached a gate, and an intersection. I assumed the S-G trail was here, but I didn't find any of the white swatch marks on the trees. So we took the trail that proceeded straight up hill. We walked through hardwood forest for the most part. One thing I noticed right away, no sign of any animal activity; no tracks, no sounds, not even birds, or squirrels. There were plentiful oaks, and beech trees, not very many striped maple( a.k.a Moose Maple) I had hoped I would at least see some deer and moose tracks.

My sister attempts to tame Evvy, the wild beast.

We continued along until we reached a high open area. This spot is where I had left off, on my last hike on the S-G trail; Hubbard Hill. We followed the S-G across the top of Hubbard in the direction of Pitcher Mt. I knew there would be a trail to the right that breaks away from the G-S trail and descends toward Cold Spring Pond. I did not know for sure if the trail would lead back to the trail we came up, but it made sense.

Sure enough we found the gate where we encountered the first intersection of trails. We made it back to our cars without incident. I would say the round trip hike was at least four miles. I'm thinking my next hike will be somewhere around Center Pond where there should be some Moose and Deer yards.

Winter Walks

Well, my photos are in reverse.  The first picture is the view of Pitcher Mtn. fire tower, from Hubbard Hill.
This photo is of Mt. Monadnock from Pitcher Mtn.
This one, is Pitcher Mtn. tower, with all the wonderful Blueberry bushs in the foreground.
I have been fortunate to be able to take many hikes this winter.  Most recently, I hiked with my friend Becky, in Pisgah park.  Pisgah is the largest State Park in New Hampshire.   We did five miles on snowshoes, but we could have hiked just as easily without snowshoes.  We kept up a brisk pace, as we walked over hill and dale through what seemed like the deep woods.  We walked across Fullam Pond to the dam.   The wind blew ferociously, so we quickly went back into the woods.  We came upon a few people along the way.  Towards the end of our hike, we came upon two girls, and their puppy only a few months old.  I was astonished at their complacent attitude for the way they were dressed, and the fact there wasn't much daylight left.  One of the girls was carrying a large Dunkin Donuts coffee!  These ladies were dressed in jeans, light footwear, and no hats.  They also had no water or daypack.  Since I haven't read about any search parties going out in the area, I assume they made it to their destination and back without incident.  

I have been reading "Not Without Peril", which is an anthology of stories about folks who have fallen prey to the weather in the White Mountains.  The stories really bring forth the point that you can not take for granted that you will go out and back in sunshine and happiness.  The weather in New Hampshire can change quickly.  Though Pisgah Park is a far cry, from Mt. Washington, you can certainly have just as big of a "stupid attack".  When I saw those girls, I envisioned Fish and Game going out later that night, looking for them.

Anyway, the other day, I took Evvy up to Pitcher Mtn. in Stoddard.  Not a soul was there, as we got a late start.  The walking was easy, and required no snowshoes.  The trail was well worn, and packed down.  If I happened to step off the trail, I'd sink right down.  So we hiked up the mountain first, then we headed off to the north along the Sunapee-Greenway trail.  I hoped to make it to a Fox Brook campsite.  We walked to Hubbard Hill, for some awesome views of the Andorra forest, Mt Sunapee and Lovewell Mtn.  At the top of Hubbard Hill, you can find a wonderful spacious flat spot, many acres around.   The area had burned in 1941, along with the fire tower on Pitcher Mtn.   During the summer, there are "a gazillion" blueberry bushes along the open spaces on Pitcher, and the trail out to Hubbard Hill.

The photos are the Pitcher Mtn. fire tower today, Evvy romping along the trail on top of Hubbard Hill, and the view of Pitcher Mtn. tower from Hubbard Hill, in reverse order :-).  According to the G-S trail guide, we hiked six miles round trip.  We emerged from the woods, after dark.  But the moon was nearly full, creating just enough light.  And yes, we were dressed for the weather, and I carrying a small pack with snacks, water, and minimal emergency stuff.  We didn't make it to the Fox Brook campsite, because of the waning daylight. Next time, I hope to explore the area again, starting from Cold Spring Pond, which is north on Rte 123 in Stoddard, below Pitcher Mt.

Mt. Gilboa

Evvy and I once again hit the trail on snowshoes, well actually it was just me wearing the shoes.

We walked from the end of Whipple Hill Rd. in Walpole, to the Rapids Rd. which is a 4x4 road. The Rapids Rd. used to be part of the Rte 5 snowmobile trail system, but much of it has been changed to a private trail, or completely closed to snowmobiles. On Rapids Rd. we turned on to the Crusher Rd. which leads to the Cold River Materials quarry. Not far up the Crusher Rd. there is a sharp right hand turn which leads toward Wentworth Rd. on the Westmoreland end. I broke trail all the way from where we left the Rapids Rd. We made a turn to the south east, to the quarry. Here is Evvy at what looks like the top of the world.
I'm not sure why Cold River closed this trail to snowmobiles and ATVs. There isn't a thing going on here at the quarry. I had hoped to eat a whole banana once we arrived at the top. Evvy had other ideas. While I was checking out a den of some kind, my banana fell out of my jacket. Evvy was quick to grab it up. Bananas are a fav of hers, as are most fruit. I tried to get the banana back, but Evvy delighted in keeping me from it. It was as though she taunted me. She'd toss the banana into the air, and catch it while jumping at the same time. I'd get really close, and she jump about flinging that banana into the air over, and over. It was pointless to ask her to drop it. I swear if she could laugh, she would be rolling over with laughter. Then, mocking me even more, she began to peel the banana, much like an ape would do. I could not believe her untapped talent. She flung the banana one more time. The banana broke in half. One half flew into the snow, the other half and the peel were still in Evvy's mouth. Exasperated, I grabbed her and pried her jaws open forcing her to drop the fruit. I got half of the banana back. She tried to take it from me once more. I told her to eat the half in the snow. At last, compromise. We could go on.

Once we got to the top, I just enjoyed the bright sunshine. Very warm, actually melting the snow to some excellent sculpting material. The sky was a beautiful sunny f16. I could have stayed there all afternoon. All I could hear were the trains in Bellows Falls, and the wind through the pines. Evvy was content to explore, while I sucked the marrow out of the day. Alas, we had to leave this great spot, because I was fairly tired, aaaaannnnnd I needed to eat something. It was easy for Evvy, she could pick up a snack anywhere along the way, if you know what I mean. As much as I can deal with pine gum, it's not a fave, and I don't like hemlock bark.

I began to imagine what I would eat when I got back. I spotted a burrow in the snow, with a very defined and worn trail leading into and away from it. I couldn't make out any good tracks to identify the animal living there. I had seen zillions of snowshoe hare tracks, but this was different. It's anyone's guess. This is the hole. I'd say it was about 9-10" across. Evvy wasn't even interested in who lives there. I saw no skat around, so I have no idea.
The beautiful sun gave way to overcast skies. I was regretting how far from my truck I was at this point. I asked Evvy to run ahead to get the truck. She ignored me. The thoughts of food kept me plodding along. Finally, I decided what I would eat. I have no idea where it came from, but I could hardly wait. My cloths were soaked to the skin, and not a good thing when the wind is blowing, even with warm 30 degree temperatures. Normally I would have taken off layers each time I got too warm. But recklessly I figured I'd be back home in fine shape, so it wouldn't matter that my cloths were wet. I reminded myself that things can change fast in the woods. I wondered how it would go if I didn't make it back to the truck before dark. I had a plan in my mind of what I would do. BUT, I had no implements of survival, cause hey I'm less than a mile from my house at this point. Careless.

After my imagination returned to center. I decided that when I got back, I would have an Eggo waffle sandwich with peanut butter, and valentine m&m's. There wasn't a chance in hell, I wouldn't make it back home for that!

High Blue Deep Snow

I had been wanting to snowshoe to the High Blue vista, which is northeast and up, up, up from my dooryard.  I brought Evvy despite the fact that I knew I'd probably be breaking a trail nearly the entire way.  The walk would be difficult for both of us.  I wasn't into the hike for ten minutes before I was shedding my gloves, and hat. I unzipped my jacket, marched slowly upward.  We walked up through Paul Galloway's pasture, through the woods, another pasture, and back into the woods.  When I got to Cochran Rd., the deer traffic was very evident.  Very well worn deer paths everywhere.  I know that in the past, Galloway has fed the deer, with a fabulous buffet of deer favorites.  I didn't bother to look for the buffet, I was on a mission. Breaking a virgin trail uphill for the better part of an hour, was difficult for me.  But I loved that I was getting a good workout.  Evvy wasn't content to go as slowly as I was.  She bounded and walked gingerly on the crust beneath the fluffy snow.   She was eating things, I did not always see.  At one point, I though she had an animal part in her mouth.  We had gone about three quarters of the way, when thankfully we came across x-c ski tracks. The tracks provided just enough bouyancy that breaking the snowshoe trail was nearly effortless.   The trail to High Blue leaves the logging road at a ninety degree angle through lovely woods.  The tall hemlocks created some neat places suitable for shelter.  They really looked quite inviting.  My plan was to stop somewhere along the way, make a small fire, brew some tea and eat a sandwich.   I continued a short distance on this trail, when I found this privvy.  I decided to make use of the facilities, which were nicely equipped with toilet seat(which I did not sit on), and toilet paper stowed inside a coffee can.   I set to work on creating a teepee of tinder, when Evvy bounded into it thinking this was a good opportunity to play.  I was not impressed.   She went off on a game trail, and I started making the tinder pile again.   Satisfied I had enough, I took out my "light anywhere" matches.  I struck the match on my pack zipper, nothing.  After several disappointing tries, I gave it up and decided to add a butane lighter to my pack when I got home.  I was sweaty and quickly chilling down.  So off we went to the High Blue.  

The wind was blowing steady, and whistled through the trees.   I looked out toward Galloway's fields below, and further off to Vermont.   Eerie solitude reminded me of the book I'm reading, "Not Without Peril".  This book contains stories of hikers who have trekked to Mt. Washington, and area over the last 150 years.  Anyway, my imagination ran off with me, as I tried to think of how I would deal with the challenges of Mt. Washington in winter.  

I decided I wanted to eat something, but I wasn't going to sit in the wind for obvious reasons. We walked to the small pond a few steps away.  Evvy got a break from the deep snow but she continued rooting around rather than resting.  I hung my pack on some standing dead wood, and ate my pb & j sandwich.  I brought some treats for Evvy, though she had eaten plenty already.  I tried to give her some water, but she barely took a few sips.  I would pay for this later.  

After a change of gloves, and zipping up all that had been unzipped, we headed back down.  So much quicker!  When we got to Cochran Rd., I decided to take the trail which leaves off Cochran Rd. at Galloway's house.  Behind his house, the trail leads toward a beautiful ravine.  A foot-bridge crosses the deep ravine and continues up hill briefly.  The trail works it's way toward my freshly broken path at the beginning of the walk.  From there, a leisurely walk all the way down through woods, and pasture, across County Rd. to home.  

When I let Evvy in, she promptly went in and gulped her water.  I wasn't paying attention, and shouldn't have let her do that.  She went into the livingroom, and everything she had consumed was piled up on my recently shampooed rug!  Evvy headed back to her water bowl, which I took up, letting her drink alittle at a time.   The cleanup was just torture for me, nearly to the point of wretching.  I must invest in a "Spotbot". Not withstanding the nasty ending to the day, the hike was well worth the workout.  Now the deer and other folks will have an easier go on the trail from County Rd. up to the High Blue.

Nothing but Snow

This is my girl, Evvy. This is her favorite season. Most days she can be found rooting through the snow like a Skimmer. On snowmobile trails she is nothing but a black blur. We often go out snowshoeing, using the snowmobile trails only to pass from one area to another, or when I need a break. I've been breaking trails near my house. Now I'm re-breaking them. This morning, I re-broke a trail I call John Stevens loop. Mr. Stevens is gone now, but his adirondack style cabin still exists. We went up there, and made a nice track down to Steven's house, where his wife still lives. I knocked on her door, and her daughter(I think) answered. I let her know what I had done. As she was on the phone, she gave me a thumbs up. I know that Mrs. Stevens, who is in her nineties, attempted to find the cabin. I found her tracks, not quite making anywhere near the cabin. It appeared she walked into the woods, from her house, but made a circle. So I

made a very distinct and easy to pass, trail to the cabin. I made the trail loop back towards Steven's house, and also back to Derry Hill Rd. I didn't come across any recent deer tracks, but there are some along the snowmobile trail.

What I wouldn't give for a snowmobile right now! The club trails are well maintained around Walpole. The snow is perfect, fluffy with a packed base. This view is of the sunset, taken from Pinnacle Equipment. I went down there today, to pick up a donation they made to a fund raiser I'm doing. I looked over the new machines, and just could not believe you have to pay $10,000, for a snowmobile. Indeed a luxury or pure folly, nevertheless I ogled.

The Snow Keeps Coming

The calm winter sunset before today's storm. The photo doesn't really do the sunset justice. It was spectacular. Today on the other hand is a different story. The snow began falling around 6 a.m. and kept on until a bit after noon. I think I have an extra 8 inches, to add to the nearly 20 inches from the other day. I got out of work at noon, and came home to run my little snowblower. I do enjoy clearing the snow. I wish I had a big Kabota tractor with one of those huge blower attachments. Pretty cool. By the way, I'm not a redneck just because I like tractors.
I haven't had much work these days, so I've had ample time to snowshoe every day. I've been out the last four days in a row, and my knees remind me every morning. As long as they don't seize up, or give away, I'm all set. Not many other people have ventured out into the deep snow, so I have broken many trails myself. Miles worth. Occasionally I get a respite when I come across a snowmobile trail. At that point, I feel so unencumbered I could run....but I don't.

Evvy and I both struggled through the deep snow each day. I worked up a sweat shortly into each hike. Evvy got covered with ice balls that clung to her fur. She would stop suddenly to chew some of the icicles off the irratated spots. I looked and looked for sheds, but so far, none to be found. I was hoping Evvy might find one, because she is forever finding bones. I did see plenty of game trails despite the deep snow. The deer ARE moving. I have found where they bed down. Then I find they move together along the well worn paths. Occasionally, coyote tracks intermingle. Speaking of coyotes. My neighbor has a 13 yr. old Husky mix. He is all "off-white" and quite plush. Anyway, my neighbor keeps two of these dogs tied out, night

and day, which angers me. So I read an ad in the "lost" section of the local paper. This family lost one of those fluffy dogs. The 13 yr old went missing the evening of January 7th this year.

The poor dog couldn't hear, and I'm not even sure he could see all that well. I fear that a coyote(s) came into the yard and took the dog. This past Monday, I was coming home from a pizza run. A large canid ran out in front of me. Nope, not "little Bear", the husky, it was a coyote. That coyote was just leaving my neighbor's yard! My neighbors weren't home. I checked to see if the other fluffy dog was still there. It was, he was all curled up in the snow near the garage. Perhaps he went undetected by the coyote, but I doubt it. Hopefully I scared the coyote away.

It frustrates me how people can leave their animals out, tethered with no way to escape. How people can allow their cats out around here, is beyond me too. It kills me when I see printed posters with lost cats on them, stuck to telephone poles. I mean really? A cat doesn't stand a very good chance of survival in the woods of Walpole, or anywhere really. Fisher, Fox, and Coyotes will eat cats with ease. Do the owners who post really think they will see their cats again? Seems like they may be in denial. I'm sure there are those exceptions, but few.

I keep my girl, Evvy inside. If I lost her to a coyote or anything else, I'd be devestated. She has been the very best friend I have. Even when she is at her worst, her love is the unconditional kind. I wouldn't trade her for the world.

Perfect End to 2010

The last couple of days have been sunny and temperate for December. Evvy and I have taken 2 hour snowshoe hikes both Thursday and today. These are the days where you can simply not step outside without saying "Thank You". Yesterday, we took a walk up the hill and beyond following game trails to a small brook. Just beyond a cornfield, at the edge of the woods, a virtual tangle of deer trails. I would guess five or six deer in this spot, who survived the not-so-great white hunters.

We walked around the deer playround for awhile, then made our way on to Derry Hill Rd. The Hooper Hill Hoppers have already been out with their groomer, getting ready for snowmobile season. We finally walked up John Stevens cabin. I followed someone else's tracks for a bit, but they lost their way if they were looking for the cabin. There had been several blow-downs out there, so losing the trail would have been easy.....if I had not been so familiar with the terrain. So I broke a new path around a huge fallen pine, and on to the cabin. I wished Mr. Stevens well, as he is buried there now, in his favorite spot. I think it is my favorite too.

Far Hills south west fence Today Evvy and I went to my other favorite spot, Fay Falls. Actually it was the lower falls. The falls were frozen solid. The pool below was somewhat open. It looked like a hot spring the way it gurgled. We moved downstream along the ice. Evvy broke through a couple of times but she didn't seem to mind. I followed a minute blood trail, that I deduced was a deer which had also broken through the ice cutting its leg.


White Pine with ice.

Fisher tracks

Evvy and friends at Far Hills Farm.

Evvy taunting the ice.

We continued downstream for quite some time. I wanted to find an otter slide, but I'm not entirely sure I found one. I did see something, similar to a slide, but it looked more like a "slip and fall". At last we came to an ancient logging trail. I decided to follow it knowing we would have to pop out some where on the Far Hills Farm. We did in fact break out of the woods in a neat spot. I wish I could say I had seen lots of game trails here, but the trails were of horses. The horses led themselves to a tiny pond at the bottom of a bowl. Evvy and I climbed to the top rim and looked to the west to see Alysson's Orchard and Westminster, VT beyond. I could have easily laid down on the snow and sucked the marrow out of that moment. Instead, I paid a visit to the two horses who(because they are people too). The two horses were munching what grass they could find. Neither was the least bit interested in me or Evvy. I hated to leave, but the reality of time is that we have to be somewhere eventually. So we made a northerly tack, back into the woods on a short bushwhack over barbed wire fence and stonewalls, and out to County Rd. I can't imagine a better way to end the year!

Walk up to High Blue

Today's walk started at the entrance to the Daniel Upton forest in Walpole, off of Scovill Rd. There is a radio tower to the south of the road entrance. Then you walk or drive (with 4x4) several hundred yards to a clearing where people have been target practicing over the years. The trail starts at a very visible sign put up by The Society for the Protection of NH Forests. You walk through a large pasture then to an old gate with granite walls on either side. We continued west past an old cellar hole, where you can still see the remnants of the fireplace. Nearby is a small pond/vernal pole in the spring. Now ice covers the pond, and I suspect I will take a shovel up there and push the snow away for peaceful skating. The pond isn't big enough for many people. But Evvy and I had a good time.

There is a small path to the left that leads done to Derry Hill, and the Galloway property. That hike is very nice, with opportunities to see deer, and moose. We didn't take that trail this day. We continued on to the "scenic vista" which faces west toward Bellows Falls, VT. There are some narrow footpaths down the slope that lead to several granite outcroppings with cairns piled on top.

After hanging out at the overlook, we meandered down the path and took a side trip, following someone else's footprints away from the path. We followed them out to the 4x4 road, and across. The land on the other side of the road, is an easement maintained by the Monadnock Conservancy. There is a hunting camp out there which offers a nice view to the east toward

Surry. But Evvy and I didn't go to the camp. We followed the footprints to a familar trail through deciduous woods, granite slabs with juniper bushes growing in the cracks of rock. The trail is narrow in places, making the snowy scene seem magical. At one point you pop out on a spot that was probably an excellent place to look over to Surry Mountain. Unfortunately, after many years of overgrowth, you can't see more than about twenty yards. There is a bench made of granite blocks, and a fire pit also constructed of rocks. This place has always been so tranquil. I like to camp there one day, and listen to the wild things at night.

We made our way back to the west, where we stood facing the radio tower at sunset. What great pinks, and orange colors. The hills and pastures here are great for hunting. I spotted a moose here one year. I did not see a single moose track today. Evvy on the other hand found a frozen slab of moose skat, which she proudly picked up and carried around. Occasionally she would drop the giant cookie-like snack, and take a bite. Of I don't approve of her taste in snacks, but if I try and take it away, she wags her tail and gallops off with her prize.

After a couple hours we finally made our way back to the truck. Evvy was sufficiently tuckered out, and I very satisfied with all the wonders I'd seen.

December Morn

Yesterday morning, I loaded Evvy up in the truck and headed to Derry Hill for some exploring along the granite boulders and cliffs. My intent was to look for bear and deer sign. I parked the truck next to an old cellar hole.


The dug well

A piece of natural art. The roots of the black birch tangled around the rock, lifting it right out of the ground. "Gnarly man".

Nearby, the "dug well" with a piece of steel covering the hole. I removed the cover revealing the water. I took a long stick and stuck it down into the well. I wanted to know how deep the well was. I figured the well would be only a couple of feet deep, because through the years they fill up with dirt and "stuff". I took the stick out and measured the water level. I estimated the depth of the well to be 5' deep. I was surprised.

We walked up a long defunct skidder trail. At times the trail nearly vanished with brush growing in it, and ruts disappearing. I rarely stay on a trail, because I figure the real action is happening off the trail. So we walked back and forth across the trail or made large circles winding up back on the trail. I like to explore the many granite cliffs and hidey holes of Walpole. I rarely have a hike where I see nothing. We flushed a Grouse, or I should say Evvy did. Then she located a wonderful pile of bear skat, composed completely of corn! I would have taken a photo of it because it was bright yellow. Unfortunately, Evvy took the opportunity to gobble it all up...Yuck.

I found this gnawing about 5' 6" feet up on a hemlock. I know the height because I'm alittle shorter than 5'6"...ok, 3 inches shorter.

We worked our way around two bogs up on top of the hill. Ice covered the bogs, so of course I had to check it out, by walking on top. Neither of us broke through the ice. I searched for fresh animal tracks in the new snow, but few prints were found. I did find, mouse and fox tracks though.

I began to make a circle back toward Derry Hill Rd. to a large outcropping of granite. Up there, the granite is broken up in some places. Some of the rocks are nearly square, resembling bricks. I was tempted to build a little fortress, like I would as a kid. But recovering from a mild concussion sustained in a floor hockey game the previous, I opted to just keep taking photos. Evvy continued her romping around, gobbling up all the black jelly beans she could find.

I took this picture on top of Derry Hill. The little red things are only about 1/2" tall, a type of lichen. Sorry I haven't identified it yet.

This Evvy peeking out an opening in a rock fort that someone else put together. It has two walls about 3' tall. The shape of the rocks make for easy stacking. Evvy was inside rooting around after something.

Madame Sherri Forest, etc.

Despite the fact that it is now December, there is no snow yet. Personally, I'm glad because it makes hiking a lot easier. This trail is part of the Anne Stokes loop in the Madame Sherri Forest, in Chesterfield, NH. I took Evvy over there for a few hours. When we got there we bushwacked around the first beaver pond you see at the entrance on Gulf Rd. It was relatively easy because I just followed the well worn paths created by the beavers(below).

We explored the massive granite cliffs, and boulders that form a great ravine where the beaver ponds are. I counted three ponds in all. The oldest pond was at the highest point and had several inactive beaver dens. A great dam was created at this pond. The active beaver den is now in the first pond.

I found evidence of porcupines all around the boulders, at the cliffs. I noticed that this ridge of cliffs continued far up the hill to Daniel Mtn. At the intersection of Daniel Mtn trail, I continued to the right on Anne Stokes loop. This part of the trail gets steep fast, but the climb is well worth the work. At the top are some awesome views to the south, and the later to the north. Not a soul around. I could not imagine a more peaceful moment. We continued down the narrow footpath to Indian Pond. The pond was even more tranquil. I counted four beaver dens on the pond, though several were very old and sunken. Past hikers had come to this spot and built campfires, which I disapprove of. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful place. I imagined camping out there, and wondered how many others had.

We continued down the path, and I decided to sit down for a snack while Evvy explored. She had endless energy, always moving, leaping, tracking smells. I felt ashamed I had not ventured to this place before, ever! Madame Sherri Forest is so close to where I live, there is really no excuse for not going there. I had visited the ruins many times, but never really hiked beyond that. I'm so glad I did, today. There were still green ferns, in addition to the Evergreen Ferns that stay green all winter long. The large stands of Mountain Laurel(?) were everywhere. Even if there was wildlife around, they would be completely concealed. It was magical walking through these areas. I felt like I could have stayed out there forever. My imagination wandered with abandon. Most of the hike was through hardwoods, with islands of Hemlock.

The hike down the north side of the mountain(?) was precarious with steep, loose rocks, and roots. At times, the trail was so steep, I stepped down backwards, like you would, going down a ladder. I made sure my cell phone GPS was enabled just in case I had a fall. You never know. As I get older I have to consider that I'm not as unbreakable as I am today. Don't get me wrong, I'm not frail. I'm still pretty hardy, but the thought of falling out there, alone was disconcerting. It would suck, and unfortunately Evvy isn't trained to go fetch help. She wouldn't leave me anyway. So I just made damn sure I didn't fall. I had a walking stick, which offered support.

When we reached the bottom of the hill, we popped out at the first beaver pond. This time on the travelled side. On this side there is a very active beaver den. As I got closer to it, a beaver slipped under the water. He didn't slap his tail as they usually do when sounding the alarm. I hoped I would see him pop up again, but he stayed out of sight.

Evvy and I spent some time at the castle ruins. I noticed a predominant theme in the stone work. Sets of three arches. A set of three in the "grand staircase", and also behind the house in the foundation. At the trail head there is a photo of the house before it burned down. The three arches were a part of the window arrangement as well. I wondered if the Madame were reaching for the Holy Trinity, ironic since Antoinette frequently entertained sordid parties where who knows what went on? I would have loved being a bug on the walls of the house during those years. What a hoot!

The freezer is full of venison. I've given some away, even to the paper carrier. I've been researching yummy venison recipes, and hope to have friends over to enjoy it. Meanwhile, I have begun the process of tanning my hide....no pun intended. I spared you the fleshing process, it was not for the faint of heart. Perhaps the salting part isn't either. What I have done is this, I've stretched the deer hide out on a sheet of quarter inch plywood. I poured pickling salt all over the hide, and rubbed it in. I will leave it alone for 12 hours, and apply more salt. Following 12 more hours, I will brush off the salt. I haven't decided whether I want to try the brain method, or use the kit chemicals on the hide. I have plenty of time to figure it out. Once the hide is dry, it will be stable for a while.

Evvy and I went for a long hike this afternoon. I was kind of sorry I had taken a deer on the first day, there's still time and I'd like to be hunting. Nevertheless, I enjoy following game trails anyway. I found several, and plenty of good sign. Some good scrapes were found up on Derry hill, but quite far in for most hunters. I'm still seeing Bear sign in the usual places.

Evvy located a cow bone, that would be better suited to an English mastiff. She had actually found it last year. I had taken it away from her then, leaving it behind. She found it once more, so I let her lug it home a mile away. I would not however, allow this thing in the house. I have a small pile of bones outside, all of which Evvy has found.

We enjoyed our walk today in the thin fog of Derry Hill woods. The air was so fresh, and damp, intoxicatingly breathable. I didn't care that my pant-legs were soaked to the ankle.

Hunting Don'ts

This is my first deer hanging from a tree, rather unorthodox, but it worked in a pinch. The deer hung for three days in moderate daytime temps, and freezing nights. Then on the fourth day, I brought the deer to a butcher in town. He guessed the carcass yielded 55% of the dressed weight, so about 67.2 pounds. I asked for the hide also. I intend to tan it myself. If the hide comes out well, I'll go back down to the butcher to collect one or two more hides to tan. I was told that on a given day there may be as many as 24 hides in the dumpster, what a waste. I'll document the process as I begin. The first thing I have to do, is remove the skull, and salt the hide with pickling salt. I have ordered a fleshing knife, and a tanning kit for the remaining steps.

I have begun giving some of the venison away, because I can not imagine eating all of it before it gets freezer burnt. When I got home, I cleaned out my freezer and stuffed it full of the venison; breakfast sausage, back straps, hamburg, steaks, one roast, and loin.

Next year, I'll build a place to hang my deer, complete with block and tackle. This year alone, I have learned alot about hunting, and more about the post hunt; cleaning the deer, hanging the carcass, cleaning up my clothes, ordering various cuts of venison, and imagining all the ways I can prepare the venison.

Now to the issue at hand that I feel compelled to discuss. The day after I got my deer, I knew my neighbor and his wife were out hunting Derry Hill. They had asked me to come out with them to take photographs. I walked out to their location, and stayed long enough to know they would not get a deer with all of the noise they were making. I returned home. Late in the afternoon, I heard FIVE shots! Right away, I knew he had taken a bad shot, then another, and another....and so on. With disgust, I thought about the poor deer that had to endure such cruelty. Then I received a text message of all things, from his wife, who was still in the woods. She relayed the whole torrid situation moments later. She told me her husband had taken a shot at a deer. The shot hit the deer opening one side of it. The shot was taken head on (shooting don't #1). The deer began losing his entrails, and attempting to run away. Fearing the small buck(button buck) would get away, dubious hunter took shot #2, which blew off one of the back legs(shooting don't #2). At this point, I'm envisioning a few things, his taking random pot shots, disregarding firearm safety, and of course disrespect for the deer. Just appalling. It doesn't stop there. He takes a third shot, and blasts the mandible from the deer! I'm guessing the other two rounds were either misses or a final blow to an already mutilated deer. While they hunt their own property, and do not require hunting licenses, they do take liberties with this privilege. I don't know if they register their kills, or even if they must by law. Occasionally, they bait deer with corn or apples. Thankfully, the bear get to this stuff, and eat most of it before the deer have a chance. This couple crunch their way through the woods, destroying any chance of seeing a deer. Then they wonder why they rarely have a successful hunt. They are poor marksmen to say the least. Both have now taken multiple shots on a deer. The woman in this duo, told me once that she took a bad shot at a doe a couple years ago. In the process of taking the shot, she shot another doe, at the same time injuring them both, but killing neither! She chose one doe, and went after it. It took her two more shots to kill the doe. Presumably, the second doe became coyote food.

Needless to say I will never hunt with the people!

Shoot, or don't shoot

Opening Day, for me began differently this year. I had hung a stand in an oak tree. I thought this would be the perfect spot. Along a clearing that had been logged off a few years ago. Above, a granite summit with views of Vermont. The clearing sloped downward to forest of white pine, hemlocks, and oaks. I was out there at dawn. At around 9:30, the sound of a skidder. The property had been for sale and resale for the last couple years, so I figured I'd never hear a thing. But today, there was a skidder, a drilling machine, and a very large excavator above me on the granite top. At first the noise wasn't bad. The skidder was widening the access road above and east of me.

On my way up to the stand, I noted two new scrapes. I had previously made one near my stand. I was encouraged by this new activity despite the site work above. So I sat up in my tree for about four hours, before I took a break for a bite to eat. I slowing walked back down to my house. Less than a tenth of a mile I think. I spent about a half hour, tending to my dog, and getting a snack. Then I returned to my stand, noting fresh deer skat along the way. I knew they (the deer of course) where there, presumably watching my every move. I could just sense it. As I got closer, I heard the very disappointing sound of a chainsaw. The chainsaw was not above me, but closer to my stand! I thought surely I'd been discovered and the oak was being cut right then. Thankfully, the logger was not at my stand, but well below. Nevertheless, I decided this day of hunting was a wash. So, I took my stand down. First the stand, then the climbing sticks. The logger, drove his skidder up near me when he noticed me. He told me he did not see my stand. I said, "I guess it was a good stand then". He told me not to be discouraged by the noise and his presence there. He explained that he was a hunter also, that the noise and smells of heavy equipment would be good cover for m. I just thought to myself, "whatever". I thanked him, and lugged the stand back toward home. I left the climbing sticks there, planning to drive up later and pick them up. By now it was after 3:00 p.m. I made my down the hill to an area just above my house. I set my stand down, and looked around for a new place to hang it. I decided to leave the stand there, and hang it again the next day. In the mean time, I set the stand down, and found a place to take a ground spot.

I had given maybe one call - no commercial calls, just me sqawking through my hands. About half an hour later. I hear that familiar sound. The funny thing about deer is, if you're in thick cover, you don't actually see them until they are right there in front of you. The doe came into view from north to south, broadside. I watched, took note of the perfect shot, but decided I wanted to wait for the buck that must be following. The doe came to a halt suddenly, catching my scent I assume. She turned around, and took a couple of leaps before stopping. The turned to the north, and sniffed the breeze which was in my favor at that point. Well, you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat? This time, curiosity was about to kill the deer. I had decided when I began this hunting thing, I would hunt only for bucks. Today, was different. The logger had said, "you can't eat horns" when I shared my interest in bucks. So I would take a shot at this doe, if she put herself in my sights. After a dance of stamping front feet, then moving, stamping, and once again placing her broadside to my crosshairs......pow! I was surprised to find no hesitation whatsoever in pulling the trigger. I had wondered if I would actually dare to kill a deer. Now, the second the muzzle flash was over, I knew I had made a good shot in the kill zone. But she didn't drop, she ran off though on a definite tack to the left, like it would not be long. I waited but a few minutes after collecting my things. I checked the spot where she had been. The blood was there, good. I could follow the blood trail, and find her. I had to find her, to make sure. I thought about how ashamed I would feel if I just left the deer out there dead or alive. Darkness was coming very fast now, and I would need to get more light to find her. I looked around until it was just pointless.

Back to the house. I decided to put Evvy(my lab) on a long line, and search for the doe. We followed the blood trail, with some good arterial blood spatter, eventually becoming just a drop here and there. The wind was still blowing hard, and Evvy had some trouble tracking when we got to close to the rim of a shallow ridge leading down to my house. But Evvy eventually did find the deer. I just stood and looked at it for a moment. I did that. Should I feel bad, good, exhilarated? Evvy growled at the dead deer lying there with a single shot, nearly perfectly placed. I supposed my first thought was, "how am I going to get this out of here?" With darkness all around, I knew the coyotes would come soon. I decided to try an field dress the deer there. I started, but I was making a mess of the deer without better light. So I decided to pull out my drag. I never imagined how hard that would be. This deer weighed as much as I do. At first I wasn't even sure how to put the drag on to the deer, and what about the head and neck? No clue, but I knew the head would be dragging on the ground. So it tightened this contraption on to the deer, and put the straps over my shoulders. Took a step, and fell right back on my rear end! Heavier than I thought. I started listing off the wish list of things that would really come in handy right now: an ATV, a deer cart, another person, better light, and a cold diet coke. But alas, none of those things were there, just me and Evvy. While Evvy was helpful at finding the deer, she was a horror while I dragged it foot by foot. Evvy pulled the deer's tail, as if we were playing "tug", her favorite game. I began to feel exasperated, but I would not be defeated by this challenge, and it WAS a challenge. I lost track of time, because I knew I would be out there until the job was done, period. I pulled, fell, pulled over stones and logs, stopped to breath. Then I heard them, the coyotes had arrived. I shone my flashlight into the darkness behind us, and saw the eye-shine. They were scurrying back and forth across the path. I decided we really had to hustle now. I was exhausted, every muscle in my body ached.

It felt like my black belt test in Tae Kwon Do, all over again. I just kept thinking, "just a little further, then she'll slide right down the hill to my footbridge, and into the yard." Little did I know Evvy had been lapping the blood coming from the deer. I had no idea how much she had consumed.

At last into the yard. I put everything down, and brought Evvy inside. Then I got a work light and hung it on my porch railing, shining directly down on the deer. I donned my rubber fishing bibs, muck boots, and shoulder length cleaning gloves. Oh and the wonderful "White Tail" skinning knife my sister got me following one of our B.O.W. weekends. I felt a bit macabre, kneeling out there in the dark under a work light, the woods were alive with creatures watching.

What a mess! I didn't find out until the next day on the way to the game check-in, that I was supposed to leave the heart, lungs, and liver in the carcass. The deer would weight nearly 20 pounds less. Oh well. I knew she weighed as much as I, but no more than that. I saved the heart, which by the way, I missed, and put it in the fridge for anyone who enjoys that part. I took my deer tag and covered it with clear shipping tape, so it would hold up in weather. I tied the tag on to the deer's ear. I rinsed out the carcass, and resolved to lift it into my truck bed. Fat chance! There was just no way I could lift the awkward, ungainly weight. I set it back down on the ground, and prayed the coyotes wouldn't come into the yard. I had taken the guts, and placed them back into the woods, hoping the coyotes, etc. would just go for that and not my deer.

I gave the deer an expression of gratitude, for her life. She was still lactating, there was a babe in the woods looking for her. I was alittle sad. On the other hand, her little one should be old enough to make it on his own by now. I pray that is so.

I left my bloody stuff outside to rinse later. I was drenched in sweat, thirsty, and hungry. I rattled off the next few tasks, as if running on autopilot: back inside, take a shower, go to bed, I would not do one other thing. Except there was Evvy. All the blood, and whatever else she ate, came up again, and again, on my carpet. I would still not be defeated, after all I had the next day off right? I cleaned up the smelly mess, and took Evvy back outside should she need to expel anything more. All she wanted to do was go back into the woods. I wouldn't have any of that. Back inside. I left all my hunting gear there on the kitchen floor, showered, brushed my teeth and went directly to bed. What a day, a day of challenges, and a supreme accomplishment for me - single handedly. I felt proud, the aches and pains would go away in a few days. The memory will last a life time.

This is me, and my doe the following morning. I hung the deer later with the help of my neighbor. She looked much larger hanging up.