Winter is setting in!

Twas the day after Thanksgiving and all through the house
Nothing was stirring not even a......oh wait.....
something is stirring
be back in a minute!

OK.  I'm back.  Where were we?

Oh yeah the day after Thankshitting.  Now I remember.  I think I still have a piece of turkey stuck in my teeth.  Or is that a wood splinter?  Can't tell.

Turkey day is over.  Sad to say.  I didn't get to gorge myself with beer, then turkey, then beer and then pie and then more turkey then more beer and finally more beerkey and pie like I wanted to.
Big thanks to the brother in law and his wife for hosting a ginormous feast!  Wish I could have stayed longer.  I'll repay the favor on Christmas (prime rib and ham)

Oh well.  We had to eat and then skedaddle up to the hospital.  My father in law had surgery last Saturday and they haven't been able to ween him off the ventilator.  It's been 6 days now.  We took the mother in law up some thanksgiving food from the feast and said hi to a very knocked out father in law.  I hate to see him like this.  I hope they figure out the meds and the procedure very quickly.  The surgery was a success.  He had bladder cancer and after several months of chemo they went in and removed the bladder and while in there also removed his appendix, lymph nodes and repaired a hernia.  Reports came back that all the cancer is gone.  Thank God for that!  Now we just gotta get him woke up.

On a lighter note I will be headed out today to look at a firewood cutting job.  Responded to an add  I seen for firewood, you cut, you haul type deal.  I think the guy had some logging done and wants the tops cut up.

The wood stove is doing an amazing job of heating the entire house.  It has been cold here.  Lows in the teens and highs in the 20s and low 30s.  The stove keeps the house around 70-74 degrees.  Last year while trying to supplement our heat with just the fireplace we never seen anything over 67.  What a huge difference and all the work I put into it has all been worthwhile.  The gas valve on the furnace is in the off position.

Last weekend I finished processing the last of the venison we brought home from deer camp.
Dad and I had cut it into one inch chunks and I canned it last saturday.  Canned venison sounds weird but it is quite good.
I start off by chopping some onion and garlic and browning the meat in a pot.

I have my pressure canner ready as well as all the jars, lids and bands sterilized and waiting.

The blue pot contains beef broth set to boil.

I add the browned venison to the jars with a portion of onion and garlic.

Then pour in the boiling beef broth leaving one inch head space.  Use a wooden spoon to release any trapped air bubbles in the jar and then wipe off jar rims and put on lids and rings.

Place in pressure canner and once the pressure reaches 10 lbs start the timer.  For my altitude it is 10 lbs for 90 minutes for quarts and 75 minutes for pints.

Finished product was 7 quarts and 10 pints.  It so amazingly tender and just falls apart when pressed with a fork.  

I smile everytime I open the pantry and look at the shelves.  I did a great job of putting away a ton of food this year from canned tomatoes to salsa, pickles and peppers, plus all my dried peppers and chipotles and now adding venison to the shelf!  It's food hoarding and I love it!

My next project was to build a heater system to keep the waterer in the chicken/duck coop from freezing.

I had momma pick me up an old cookie tin from the thrift store and all I did was drill a hole in the side of it and put a string of Christmas lights inside.  Push the plug through the hole and put the lid back on.  Plug it in to  the outlet in the coop and set the water jug on top.  The lights put out just enough heat to keep the tin warm and the water from freezing.  Pennies to operate.  A few dollars to build ($3)

The weather has been quite cold recently.  Looks like winter is here for good.  

Coming home form the hospital the other day I saw a beautiful sunset so I pulled over to the side of the road, even backed up a little, and snapped this picture.

I had to get that tree centered in the pic.  If you click the pic it is much better!

That's all I got for now.  I may dig the old Arctic Cat out today and begin tinkering with it.  I have to have some sort of project going!

Cheers and stay warm!

-Bushman

2013 Deer Camp

Rain drops spattered the dead oak leaves that littered the ground.  Each time a drop landed the leaf jumped as if alive.  Their light brown skins darkening as the tiny jewels landed.  Growing darker and darker as the intensity of the rain quickened.
A gust of wind swirled the tiny leaves around, flipping them, spinning them.  Exposing their warm under bellies to the onslaught of the cold November rains.
A creek babbled in the near distance.  Laughing and splashing as the rain and wind beat upon it.  The storm held no sway over the creek and it welcomed the added water.  As the rain picked up the creek only laughed harder.

The towering white pines swayed to and fro.  Rhythmically in tune with nature.  A dance of old in a world of new.  Dancing as the seasons changed.  Sweeping their arms across the sky and fluttering their needles.  The dark green boughs oblivious to the drops of rain.

Across from the great pines stood a forest of muted white and grey poplars.  Stripped naked by the fierce fall winds and shuddering from the early winter winds they stood stark, white and ghostly in a world dominated by browns and greens.  Reaching high in to the sky, stretching their limbs towards the sun.  Begging for warmth and light.  Their sadness was only matched by the dead fern foliage which cluttered their bases.  Once tall and vibrant green they had danced the summer away and now lay dormant after the first hard frost sent them to bed for winter.  Their skeletons lay strewn across the forest floor.  A testament of the battle between summer and winter.  Warm and Cold.  Ice and Sun.

It was here in this lonely spot where a white pick up truck towing a small camper stopped.  Of all the thousands of acres of forest it stopped here.  3 men emerged from the truck.  Stretching their arms and legs. The three had left home 6 hours prior and were anxious to pry themselves from the cramped truck.
They were home.  A home away from home no less but still their home.  They had finally made it to deer camp.  The rain was nothing more than a nuisance.  The men smiled and began their work.  As if on cue a deer jumped the two track and headed up into the high oak ridges.  Bits of white antler upon his head flashed through the branches as he bounded away.  The men's smiles grew even larger.  Deer camp had officially began.

As the rain continued the men worked with a fervor.  Camp had to be set up and quick.  It was an all day affair just to get to camp and the daylight was waning fast.  Within a few hours the bulk of camp was set up and the rain continued with a few breaks here and their.  The three agreed to head out into the woods and cut some firewood in case the rain let up and they were able to have a campfire that evening.

With the chainsaw loaded in the truck they set out down the two track searching for dead trees to turn into firewood.

We had a great week up in the big woods.  The weather was crazy.  Rain and wind the first two days.  Then it got really cold and snowy with more wind.  Then it turned warm and rainy towards the end.   In the end we had a successful camp.  Dad took a spike buck with his crossbow and a doe with his rifle.  Joe shot a yearling deer with his rifle and I took a 5 point buck with my rifle.

With almost zero cell phone capability it made it even harder track the weather.  I was hoping to be able to get weather reports so I could adjust our hunting strategies based on wind direction and temperature but was foiled by my phone.  I was able to get a text message out to my wife once in awhile so on one of those texts I asked her to send me an updated weather forecast for morning and evening.  She did this twice a day and when I had climbed up high enough in my treestand I would get her message, mostly.  Some didn't come through until the next day.  LOL  Oh well better than nothing.  We couldn't get squat on the radio in the truck either.  We were deep in the bush!

This is a shot of our camp.  We have to cover the entire camper in tarps to help prevent leaks and also it helps eliminate condensation on the canvas covered bunks at each end of the pop up camper.

Here is Joe doing his best to be a lumberjack.  Or should I say Lumber Joe.

He split a lot of firewood that week.  

We cut a lot of firewood that week.  At one point we had the entire fire pit surrounded.  The wind never really quit blowing so we would sit between the wood wall and the fire pit and the wall would block the wind and also reflect the heat back.  It was super cozy.  As the wood supply dwindled we actually would move the entire wall to block the wind in whatever direction it was blowing that night.  Here the wall is on the south side of the fire pit.  Two days later we had north winds so we stacked wood on the north side and burned from the south side wall.  Then the weather changed again so we moved the north wall back to where the south wall was.  

Here is pops with the rake in hand.  We kept our camp super clean.  Always raking the ground free of wood chips and debris.  Don't ask why it's just something we do.  There was a few rays of sunshine that made it through.

Dad and Joe nestled in behind the wall

Dad was the first to hang a deer this year with his crossbow spike.

Our wood wall making its way around the north end!  Our evenings are spent by the fire, cooking, laughing, telling jokes and most of the time drinking a few barley pops.  Our camp doesn't go to town to the bars or sit inside playing cards all night.  We like to be outside so we take great care to make sure we have plenty of wood and are comfortable.

Being that I was camp cook I got to send Dad and Joe down to the creek to wash dishes.  The state put these timbers in to keep the ATVs from crossing the creek.  They were tearing up all the soil.  

The view from my treestand.  I shot my buck between those two stands of green pines in the background.  This was still bow season and it was cold.  You can see the flakes of snow on my quiver.  At one point the entire ground was white.

It was cold.  Dad had hat and banner honors this year and this is one of the hats we got.  A nice warm beanie with our name embroidered on it.

I think the high temps for those two days was around 22 degrees.

I loved those evenings spent around the fire.  Great memories are made around just such a fire!

Here is our chicken frying set up.  First chicken night was thighs and breast tenders and crinkle cut french fries.  Of course I had a bowl of Frank's Hot sauce for dipping!  Second night was wings and we also fried up some gizzards and hearts!

I told you it was cozy!

Dad and I by the fire!

In fact it was so cozy Mr skin and bones Joe didn't even need a coat!

We got the name for our camp because, one, we camp by a creek and two, every year we try and find a hollow log to set on the fire.  We call it a chimney log.  Hence the name Chimney Creek Hunt Camp!

We found a great chimney this year.  It was about 8 ft tall so we cut it in half and brought the other half home with us.  We will take it back next year!

We had to put up a new buck pole this year to hold all the weight.  We decided to put one pole up high so we could hook a winch/come-along to it and then crank the deer up and tie them off to the lower pole.  We spent about an hour getting this all set up and then went inside for breakfast.  That's when we heard the whoomph!  Yep the straps broke and the whole thing fell down. Notice the second picture the deer are facing the other way!

A great week full of deer, laughter and some pretty funny moments to say the least.  Can't wait for next year.

We can re-tell the story of King Awesome Shitty Pants!

Hope you enjoyed my pictorial!

-Bushman

10 pounds of stuff in a 2 pound box

It's here.  Fall back.  All day long I will be thinking...OK if it's 4 o'clock now then it is really 3 o'clock and I should go to bed at......ugh.  Can't we go spring ahead AND fall ahead?  It really messes up the deer hunting too.  Especially if you want to hunt after work.  Deer Camp week is here as well.  The countdown officially begins today.  6 days from now we will be headed north.  I've spent the better part of last week gathering supplies and packing things up.  Planning menus and grocery shopping.  I'm almost done.

It takes a lot of preparation and planning for a 10 day trip into the bush.  There is no power, no running water (we do have creek water but it's undrinkable unless you boil it) no bathroom facilities, as a matter of fact there is only a patch of bare ground and a circle of rocks for a fire pit.  Hopefully that is still there.  Sometimes people camp there in the summertime and for some reason want to put their tents where we keep our fire pit.  Don't ask me why.  There are some perfect pines that are great for nestling your tent or camper under.

It takes a ton of food to keep us well fed while we are there.  We burn a lot of calories (and replace them with beer) so we need to eat well.  For instance we are taking, 10 bratwurst, 9 porkchops, 3 large beef steaks, 10 lbs of chicken wings, 10 lbs of chicken thighs and breasts, a gallon of chili, a gallon of venison stew, 10 lbs of potatoes, 3 large bags of frozen french fries, 2.5 gallons of vegetable oil, 30 hot dogs, 12 cans of soup, 3 loaves of bread,40 hot dog buns, 3 dozen eggs, 50 assorted breakfast sausages, 12 english muffins, 3 bags of frozen hash browns, 16 biscuits, a quart of sausage gravy, coffee, plates, bowls, napkins, paper towels, pots, pans, silverware, the list goes on and on.

We also have to pack in all of our liquid necessities.  Water, juice, soda and 7 cases of beer1 or 2 cans of beer in case we want to get wild!

Then there is all the gear.  Axes,chainsaw, gas and oil, tarps, tree stands, pop up blinds, cooking tripod, 3 rifles, 2 cross bows, one compound bow, awning and side walls, 3 large tanks of propane, 8 small tanks of propane, 3 suitcases full of clothes, 3 totes full of outerwear, a toolbox, a million other things and last but not least our crapper.

Every year I build a new crapper.  When we are done using it at camp, we clean and remove the seat and burn the rest of it in the firepit.  This seat is headed to camp for its fourth season.  Poor seat!

Just think of all the things you use everyday and then pack almost all of those into a pick-up and a small pop up camper.  Then add three full grown men!
I specialize in this sort of thing.
I will have almost everything packed today.  Then I can spend the rest of the week thinking of all the things I am forgetting.  Pops flies in on Friday at noon.  We will get a few last minute details taken care of and will be on the road by 6am Saturday morning.

Here are a few pics of last season

Hoping to have another great year at deer camp!
-Bushman

Tracks in the Snow

There are times in a man's life when he sits back with a hot cup of coffee and reflects upon his fondest memories. (and sometimes his fondling memories but that is a different post on a xxx site)

This morning I was browsing the web as I do every morning when I don't work.  I don't read the paper, I get all of my critical news from the top of the Yahoo page.  If I need to know it then it will be there.  Keeping up with the Kardashians and Obamacare is top priority!

Anyways I happened upon an article about a guy's first deer hunt.  It was quite comical.  He was 34 years old when he shot his first buck and without any prior experience his tale was relatable.

Approaching 40 years old myself I can still remember my first hunts. (barely) except they all seem to roll into one giant story with multiple deer being shot in one season.  Vivid recounts with my Father begin with,"Remember the year I shot the half-rack and you shot the doe while Jr. missed?"

Father says," No the year you shot the half rack was the year I got the 8 point and the guys at the lake got arrested for not having their pistols in a case while driving the two track."

"No the guys at the lake were arrested the same year that Ricky shot back to back 8 points and Jr. gut shot that doe and that guy from Vaughn's camp somehow shot his rifle off right outside our coach in the early hours of opening morning, I say"

"Are you sure", he says?

That is how we remember deer camp.  So many memories it's hard to place them all in order.  It doesn't matter anyways.  I do remember my first deer ever though.

It was the second day of the season.  (or was it the third?)
We awoke that morning to about a foot (or two) of snow.  It was incredible.
One of the guys camped at the lake had offered me his spot because he had tagged out already.  It was new territory.  Across the creek (where we now camp) and up on the bluff.

That next afternoon I was sitting quietly in the blind, which was mostly a pile of sticks with a hollowed out center.
Next thing I knew a big 'ol buck came walking out of nowhere and stopped right in front of me.  I put the crosshairs of Grandpa's trusty (rusty) old 30-06 springfield on his front shoulder and pulled the trigger.
 The buck crumpled in a heap.  I couldn't believe it.  Now what?  I hadn't thought about this part.  What do you do after the shot?  Do you run right up there and check it out?  Do you wait?
As I sat there and pondered these things I lifted the rifle to look at the deer through the scope.  He had fallen into some taller grass So all I could see was a patch of brown in the middle of some lighter brown and tan patches.  He must be dead.  I'm gonna go check him out.  I set the rifle down and stood up.  Stretched my arms and back out.  I looked over in the direction of the deer and what I seen set my heart to racing, again.
He was staring right back at me.  He wasn't dead as I had thought.  Quickly I sat down.  Snatched the rifle from its leaning position on the front of the hollowed out pile of sticks.  I was shaking all over.  Worse than when the deer first appeared.  I put the rifle to my shoulder again.  Damn!  I couldn't see him from the sitting position.
With the rifle at my shoulder I started to rise from my seat.  Trying to keep the deer, or what I thought was the deer, in my scope.  That was enough for the buck.  He began to scramble and thrash around in the grass.  I stood up completely and tried to locate him through the scope.  It was a mad pile of grass, hooves and snow flying everywhere.

Next thing I know the buck has pushed his way out of the grass and was laying there on his belly, head in the air looking straight at me.  I shouldered the rifle once again.  He was in the wide open, broadside at about 40 yards.  I steadied the crosshairs right behind his front shoulder and pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
I squeezed harder.  Nothing.
I pulled the rifle from my shoulder and checked the action.  The next shell in line had jammed in the action of Grandpa's rusty old 30-06.  (notice I left the trusty part out)
I reached down and began to quietly unjam the rifle.  Nearly impossible.  The entire time the buck is staring at me.  Before I can unjam the rifle he has taken off.  His rear end is up in the air like normal but his front shoulders are in the snow.  He is pushing himself with his rear legs only.  His chest is like a sled in the snow.
I finally unjam the rifle and jump from the blind hoping to get a shot at him as he makes it into the brush.
No luck.  He is out of sight within seconds.  Leaving only a furrow in the snow from his chest that is stained with a crimson streaks.

At this point I'm a wreck.  15 years old, by myself with no experience whatsoever.  I did the only thing I could think of, head for Dad.
Unfortunately Dad is hunting down by the lake.  I am at the creek.  The distance between the two is (now with awesome mapping tools and topographic maps is 4558 feet away which is 722 feet away from a mile)
quite the hike.
Years later I look back on this and the best thing would have been to sit quietly and wait for Dad to show up with the vehicle and pick me up.  However in my maniacal state of mind, crazed with buck fever and the notion that if I didn't recover this deer immediately some other hunter would claim my prize.  In my mind those antlers were growing by the minute.  This buck was huge.  Elk like antlers protruding high into the sky.  I was going to be a deer camp legend.  I had to recover this buck.

I frantically scrambled my way down the bank, sloshed through the creek, soaking my bright orange hunting suit from the thighs down.  This alone added 20 pounds of extra weight.  I made it to the two track and began running towards the lake.  I didn't realize how far it was but luckily I was young and running like a crazed lunatic through the north woods didn't faze me a bit.
I reached the truck with the best hunting minutes of the day yet to be used.  The twilight hour where most deer began to move.  Every hunters favorite time of day.  I couldn't wait for Dad to emerge from the woods on his own.  I knew better than to go looking for him.  Running down a two track is one thing.  Fumbling about in the woods while hunters are on edge with loaded rifles is another.  So I opened the door of the truck and laid on the horn.  The noise was deafening in the still of the twilight.  Beeeeeeeeeep!  Beep, Beep, Beep!

Eventually my Father and Brother emerged from the woods with scowls on their face.  ''What the hell are you doing?", they asked me.  In a frantic, stumbling voice I recanted every detail in about 12 seconds.  Probably reminiscent of Ralphy from the Christmas Story telling Santa about his red ryder BB gun seconds before he gets a foot in the face pushing him down the slide.  My foot in the face was Dad telling me OK settle down.  We will go back to camp, have supper and come back out with some flash lights to look for him later.
This was unacceptable.  I was not a happy hunter.  Looking back it was the only logical thing to do.  Give the deer time to expire on his own accord and not push him to the next county but in my mind it was utter horror!

We did go back out.  The entire camp was with us.  We tracked that deer for probably two miles in the snow.  At first the trail was easy to follow.  That furrow in the snow.  It was a foot deep and 18" across with blood in it.  However, soon the furrow began to disappear in spots.  The deer was standing up on 4 legs again.  Every once in awhile the furrow would return but eventually we were down to just deer tracks.  The blood quit showing up and at the end of our tracking adventure the deer was running in leaps and bounds as evidenced by the 10 foot gap in between his hoof prints.  We gave up the trail shortly thereafter.  I was devastated.  Dad said I had probably just clipped the front shoulders with the bullet and because he was so close the bullet had enough shock to knock him senseless for a few minutes.  Numbing his front legs causing him to push himself toboggan style for awhile..  eventually as the shock wore off the deer was able to regain his facilities and would probably make a full recovery.

That was my first deer.  No I never actually killed him but he will always be my first.  The very next day I returned to the same blind and shot a small buck.  I was happy but that first one with the tree like antlers and moose like body......well he got the best of me that day.  That was 24 years ago.  That old buck is long gone.  The pile of sticks that made up that blind has made its way back into the earth.  I believe his spirit still walks through the woods up there.  About 10-11 years ago I seen a big buck walking through the fog and rain within a stones throw of where I met that buck the first time.  I believe it may have been him.
I'll be back in a few days.  I only hope I get the chance to meet him one more time.

-Bushman