Moose Hunt – Day 2 – Saturday at Camp and a difficult kill (NOT graphic)

I did not write on the Saturday – it is a day when the majority of our group arrives and we have a lot of work, fun and a party to celebrate the annual reunion.  I was working with my Father early in the morning when we realized we needed supplies and I decided to make a quick run to town – it would be the last time I would see civilization for 8 days.

We drive 13 kilometers on a closed logging road.  You could drive a car, depending on the condition of the road.  It’s an awful mess in winter that even a four-wheeler (ATV) would struggle to navigate.  I carry an unloaded shotgun with me on this road (as many do) in bird season.  When I get to pavement I lock and store the gun, go to town and unlock it once off the road again.  It must be unloaded in the vehicle – this is acceptable because we are not officially on a road.

On my way into town I saw a partridge.  It takes a few careful moments to stop, get out, load, aim and shoot.  I was successful.

The attached video DOES NOT show the bird.

When you harvest a partridge, you “clean” it immediately.  It’s a dirty job – there are no knives involved, simply your hands and eyes to guide you.  Sometimes I find this easy, other times it is very difficult.  I generally find it more difficult to clean a bird than a moose.  A moose feeds so many of us so often – a bird seems like a much more extravagant harvest.  1 life for 1 meal for 1 or 2.  I find a bigger guilt associated with fowl than larger animals for this reason.

As I drove down the road I felt queasy (I am bound to be teased for writing and sharing this :)).  I shot a brief video trying to capture that moment – one of the tougher moments of the hunt for me.  This was shot within minutes of harvesting the bird (which is currently in our freezer):


I know that some may have a problem with the word “respect” associated with killing an animal.  It is something I debate a fair bit – I know many hunters (including myself) who would claim to respect and/or even love the animals they hunt.  I also know many farmers who would lay claim to the same of the animals they rear.  Can one really love something it hunts?  These are questions I’m not sure that there are answers to – but they certainly make me think and am conscious of them.

Saturday night was a party before the hunt began Monday morning – stay tuned for the day by day…

Day 1 – Heading to Camp

Written 1 week ago today – the day I left for the moose hunt.

12:30PM.
Lunch time.  I’m at work.  I got up at 5:00am this morning.  A quick walk of the dog, some last minute packing and I was off to work.  Today is a day when a surprising amount gets accomplished – I like to leave knowing that most things are looked after and that the phone won’t ring while I’m away or that I will come back to an avalanche.  An ounce of preparation matched with an awesome team is enough to make my vacations remain as vacations and my returns be fairly smooth.

This will be the last day I work with a beard this year.  I grow it exclusively for the hunt every year – it’s a fun tradition and one that helps keep me warmer on cold days (at least that’s my theory).

I also find that staying focused makes an otherwise long day go quickly.

I will leave around 4 or 5 and head north with few errands to go.  I’ll be in camp around 9 or 10.

Day 1 – Heading to Camp wellpreservedgoesmoosehunting October

7.45PM
Arrival in Huntsville.  Buy beer, snacks for the week and a couple of small items left on my list.  I know there’s a small crew of retired guys (including my Dad) waiting.  I am bouncing off the walls.

I also saw 3 deer on the side of the road outside of Huntsville.  It’s not deer season but that could be a good omen.  I’m a bit nervous – it was a tough year last year.  It had been a difficult year outside of camp for many and the complete lack of hunting success added to the tension.  I hunted from early morning to past sunset every day (30 minutes after is legal).

It is great knowing that there is a small group of guys in camp (they came up yesterday and today).  There will be 6 of us tonight, most of the rest arrive tomorrow and 3 (including a mystery guest that only my father knows the identity of) will arrive.

8.30PM
I am in the middle of the forest in my pickup truck.  I was driving the abandoned logging road that leads to our cabin (13 kilometers from the nearest “real” road.  I thought my headlights were flickering on far away trees before I realized there was something other than light running in front of me.

I thought it was a dog at first and sped up when I knew it wasn’t.  I was chasing a bear up the center of the road without even realizing it!  It was bigger than a cub but not a monster – about 300-400 pounds.  I backed off and he turned into the woods.  It is shocking to see an animal run around 30 kilometers an hour (about 18 miles per hour) turn into the pitch black woods and keep running the same speed.

I stopped and listened to him scamper.  He ran for 2 or 3 seconds before going completely quiet – did he stop and look back?  I wasn’t waiting to find out and took off a little freaked out.  I have driven another kilometer since  and have another 9 to get to camp.

Will write when there’s more to write about the actual hunt.

Keeping Beer Cold in the Woods (and an introduction to the next 10 posts)

Before we get to the larger portion of this post, I’m sure some of you are simply here to learn how to cool beer (without freezing it) while in the woods.  This lesson works year round and will work in any body of water:

Keeping Beer Cold in the Woods (and an introduction to the next 10 posts) October

Full cans of beer float (in this case we used barrels of rainwater)!  Note that this doesn’t work so well with cans of pop which simply sink (I think the can is heavier).  This will chill warm beer in the summer and – as long as the water doesn’t freeze – will keep your beer cold without going to ice.  In the summer you can use the water in a lake or a stream to chill them out.

Regular readers will know that I have just returned from a week in the woods hunting moose.  I had pre-written a series of posts and tweets about my general perspective on hunting and how different it is from what many may (or may not) think.  I’ve been back for 4 days and am glad to say it was a great hunt.

When I was in the woods I kept a journal of all 9 days of my hunt.  I will be posting each of these in order from tomorrow through next week and post each one exactly one week after each happened (i.e. tomorrows post is from hand written notes from exactly a week before).

I am hoping that this format gives readers an idea of what a group hunt is really like and shares insight into the world of sustenance hunting.  It won’t always be the easiest thing to read and all of it is my interpretation of the hunt.

I will not include gory photos or stories about the hunters themselves.  The personal stories are powerful and a massive part of why I go hunting – but this is not the venue to talk about stories of others – that’s not the deal they signed up for and not fair to them.  Taking this part of the story out of the story only paints a small part of a much bigger whole – I am hoping that the stories we posted in previous weeks would give some idea as to the bigger picture.  It is tough knowing that these stories would share a much bigger value to what we do – you’ll have to take my word on it (or not :)).

Some of the posts will be tough to read for many – this will not be a glamorized image of the hunt.  I, of course, have my own biases but hope to paint a whole picture of the hunt and went I went through of part of it.  I am hoping the last 10 days has been a good intro to my perspective about a topic that is difficult for many.  If you want an idea of what it’s like to be on a group hunt (hint: it’s a lot of sitting still), I hope this gives you an idea of what it’s like to be a hunter – and a member of a very real tribe.

We’ll be returning to food posts once the play-by-play of the hunt is over.  By then I’ll have a stockpile of information and topics to share – including several posts from another trip to the UK (I leave on Tuesday).  In the meantime, hope to see comments (including respectful challenges and questions) to continue as we go!

Easy Preserves for the holidays… Lemon Confit

Back to preserving – options for local are diminishing so we’ll do the odd batch of something special – there will be 3 or 4 things made in the next month or so which will be part of our late December and early January celebrations with family and friends.  Todays batch is lemon confit – some of which may end up within our Turkey stuffing or a salad.

I’ve never tried to make – or eat – lemon confit before.  But I am super excited and found the process a lot of fun.  It’s also the super easiest batch of preserves I’ve ever made.  The entire process is very fast – although a little on the pricey side (2 jars of salt for 1.5 lemons).  A different sized jar (a bigger opening to fit half-slices as recommended by my recipe) may have reduced the need for salt by some degree.

Easy Preserves for the holidays... Lemon Confit Salt Preserving Recipes October Lemon [Read more...]

Freezer Pesto

I don’t know if you are tiring of hearing of the woods and the traditions we hold dear in the north – let’s take a break and head to the kitchen for some of the easiest preserving (and most practical) known to man, woman or child.

Do you have a selection of herbs that you are afraid may turn the corner of freshness?  Are you worried about losing a fridgefull – or even a garden full – of them?  When we run into this, we make pesto and whatever we don’t use we freeze in cupcake liners.

These handy little packages freeze well from 9-12 months and can be added (sans paper) to soup, stew, dips, sauces or other meals as needed.  They are a wonderful flavor boost that we use through the winter to remind us of summers bounty and hold us through to the next year.

Shotglasses

The cabin is also refuge to shot glasses from all around the world.  We have a traditional camp song which we chant on special occasions (toasts, birthdays, weddings, hunts or the fact that it’s Tuesday are all special occasions for us).

We have a very strict policy that hunting and drinking are never to be combined – once the guns are put away shot glasses (and liquids to pour inside them) appear from all corners of the globe.  We have drank elixirs from the middle east, potions from South America, tonics from Easter Europe and mysterious drinks from places yet to be named.  I’m not sure where it all comes from – but it all goes into these glasses and none are immune (though portions may be moderated for the faint of heart!)

Shotglasses October

Shotglasses October

As a bonus to today’s post is the following shot (it is not Southern nor is it in any way comforting):

The small contents remaining in that bottle are enough to twist the brim of 6 or 8 peoples hats.  It is a form of bathtub moonshine that we trade for in the middle of the forest with an other camp.  Trade of commodities such as this are somewhat commonplace – homemade moonshine, maple syrup and commercial sweets are not uncommon.  Our neighbours are our friends and we share tradition (and libation) with them commonly.

I love plates and dishes at cottages

Is there anything better than a hodgepodge of plates in a cottage?

I love plates and dishes at cottages October

I love plates and dishes at cottages October

I love the apparent random collections of plates that fill a cabin.  What appears to be a series of random glassware is often anything but.  We have plates that are collected from years of potlucks, drop-ins, forgotten leave behinds and good will donations from visitors and members of our cabin.

Many of the plates in our cabin have been around for it’s entire history – which reminds me of the infamous winter of 1969 and my father’s first visit to the cabin that spring (I was born 4 years later).

The drive to the cabin was very different in the 1960s and 1970s.  The road was tricky (at best) and could take up to 5 hours to travel about 10 kilometres from pavement.  The drive was conducted by tractor, jeep or land rover and included a scary drive up steep incline which also functioned as a torrent creek.  Getting to the cabin in the winter was not an option.

A quick drive to the cabin in the mid spring revealed disaster – a heavy load of snow had caused the roof to collapse.  All four walls were laying on the ground and the roof was on the floor of the cabin.  A series of phone calls made there way to my father who was part of the rebuilding crew who stayed in tents and raised the roof again.

The remarkable part of this story is that none of the windows (or plates) were broken.  It was as if a giant had lifted the roof, gently rested each wall on the ground and placed the roof on the floor.  A single pane of glass was broken (in a cabinet if I recall correctly).  A large sliding door, all windows and some of these plates survived.

The reality of the story is fascinating, if not remarkable.  The massive amount of snow which crippled the roof was the same thing that saved the glass – when the walls gave way they were stopped from crashing to the ground by massive snow banks which slowly placed the roof n the floor as they melted over weeks.  It would make for stunning time-lapse photography!

We posted a similar post recently on coffee cups – see that here.

Update on Shaeffer

Today marks the last day of mouse hunting in our region of Southern Ontario.  Posts will return to normal shortly.  J

We brought our puppy home at the start of September – a 10 pound Hungarian Viszla.  His name is Shaffer and he’s been a lot of fun (and a lot of work!).  There are no regrets and we can’t imagine our lives without him these days.

Vizsla’s are Hungarian Bird Hunting Dogs.  There are reports of them hunting moose and deer as well – for now he’s simply happy being a puppy and we are thrilled with that.  I would rather have an awesome companion dog who is a poor hunter than a marginal companion and great hunter.  While hunting is important to us, it’s a relatively small part of our lives.

Shaffer came to visit the cabin for his first time on Thanksgiving weekend.  He’s fun to have in our every day lives and seems to really enjoy us – being at the cabin was a new level of fun for this little dude.  We could be much more carefree with him at the cabin and he followed us until he couldn’t and then sprinted for his bed at the food of the fireplace.

We thought we’d share a few pics of his growth and will share periodic updates as he learns to become a hunter.  If he doesn’t, we’ll save his progress for Facebook and be just as happy!  For now, he looks like an eager woodsman – already excited to smell a moose print or point at birds in the park.

The following pics are a series from his first visit to Shaeffers pond (he is named after the pond, not the other way around).

Update on Shaeffer October

Update on Shaeffer October

We found hail on the way back to the cabin – he wasn`t as excited:

And less we leave it on a sad note, he did later come back out and find a stick:

Hallowe’en is coming….

A quick post for a rainy friday! It’s officially a week before Hallowe’en eve! What are you wearing? Where are you going? Does sending your kids out into the neighbourhood for candy freak you out (hey, most of us survived it, i know!). If it does, or if you’re just looking for something DIFFERENT to do this year…our friends at Kawartha Ecological Growers are having a whole day/evening/into the night of Hallowe’en activities at Grassroot Organics’ Farm! It’s a great opportunity for the kids (and adults!) to spend the day at a working farm…participate in all kinds of activities and chow down on some great local food prepared by talented people. [Read more...]

Country Roads – preserving tradition and geography

This post was written more than a week before it appears on the site.  It is posting on a Friday and by the time it is read our hunting fortunes will largely be written for the year 2009.  If we are hunting today, it’s getting desperate and the mood is diminishing.

Some of the men will have had to return to their families and our numbers are dwindling.  We’re, in part, missing home (but won’t admit it to each other) and wondering if we are coming home on Saturday or Sunday.  If no animals are down, we will hunt to the bitter end this year.

There’s also a small glimmer of doubt in your mind as to what you hope for.  Coming home empty handed is disappointing – harvesting an animal at the last minute of the last day is a whole lot of work with less people than is actually ideal.  It’s a tough day and one that can end with an empty feeling – months of work with little to show for it.

I recently mentioned that a successful run was seeing animals – and this stays true.  It will be every bit a great week regardless of what fills our freezers.  There is however something bigger that tugs at my ears – eating naturally harvested meat over potentially genetically modified and industrialized food is something that feels more and more necessary to me.  I eat far less meat than I used to but am very hopeful to provide and have an alternative for the coming months.

Hunting hard on a Friday is not a tradition that excites most of our members!

Having said that, I thought today’s post could reflect on an element related to hunting (and thus the food of my family) that fascinates many who come to visit our land during non-hunting months – the roads of our forefathers.

Our cabin sits on 200 acres and is nestled on the border of two townships (Bethune and Lake of Bays).  We are 15 kilometres from pavement and access the cabin by pickup truck or ATV.  Most of the roads have been selectively logged (i.e. not clear cut) over the last several years and the managed forest has helped much of the local wildlife.  Imagine the buffet of leaves, shoots and nuts that are left behind for bears, moose and deer when a tree is selectively harvested!  Fallen trees also provide obstacles that the long legs of moose and deer can avoid while slowing down their predators (including us humans).

Logging is not new to our area – signs exist of more than 100 years of historical logging in our forests.  Just last year we found an old piece of a harness that would be used by horses to haul logs through the woods.  I have met and still know men who harvested the forest using horses before the automation of mechanical monsters.

If you walk our forest with an open eye and a calm focus, you will find logging roads in a variety of ages and stages.  Some of these roads date back to the history of logging in the area and you can imagine the horses pulling stubborn timbers through the cold of winter with loggers working in conditions we can’t possibly imagine.

This is “Wolf Road”:

Country Roads   preserving tradition and geography October

Country Roads   preserving tradition and geography October

Wolf Road was an abandoned logging trail when the founders of our camp began hunting it in the 1960s.  It has not been logged since the 1940s or 50s (at the latest) and is a trail that I have known my entire life – I have early memories from the late 1970s of this road.

We named it Wolf Road as it was the location of the first animal killed at our camp (wolf hunting was legal back then).  It is a winding path that crosses our land before turning through a set of hardwoods on Crown (Government) Land.

The road is more than a kilometre from end-to-end.  There are parts that you could cross without knowing that you are on a road at all.  You can see a hundred yards in some places while being able to see 15-20 feet in others.

My father and many of the “elders” of our camp know 10s (if not, hundreds) of roads like this.  Most don’t have names and most are walked by 0-3 people per year.  It amazes me to hear my Dad and other woodsmen discuss a long solo journey through t he depths of the woods.  It goes something like this:

See anything?

Everything I looked at.  You?

Some fresh sign – looked like a young bull.  I followed her west along the upper timber trail before he lost me in the dirty swamp down there.

The big one or the small one?

Right between the two.

You mean near the big oak standing by itself?

No, closer to the little set of birch trees.

Oh.

There are a tonne of these landmarks that are passed from story-to-story, man to man.  Barry’s Bay.  Shaffer’s Pond.  Water by the Old Mans Home.  Jacklin’s Field.  The Murray Bush.  All of these are made up names that are shared by our small community.  The Raft Creek Camp (which is not actually on Raft Creek).  The Princess Bridge (which is not actually a bridge).  The Frenchmens (which never had a French person in it).  Ponderosa.  The Flat Rock.  The other flat rock.  They all form part of our heritage and come directly from the tales of our forefathers and mothers.  Some of these places have been seen by less than 100 people in 100 years.

I remember walking through the woods about 5 years ago.  I was 2 or 3 kilometres away from the nearest human and at least that far from the nearest road.  I was stunned when I happened on an ancient foundation of a long ago house.  It looked like a square wall made of stones – about 8 feet by 10 feet, complete with door way.  It had been reduced to rubble and was far removed from any noticeable trail or road.  It was however, clear, that this was a forgotten home to someone.

I scampered to my Father and our friend Darryl (also a veteran woodsman).  I mentioned what I had found.  They both smiled wryly – both knew that it was there and instantly knew where I had been.

I remember feeling like I had joined some kind of club – only I hadn’t.  After all, Darryl and Paul could bring you back to that spot, I can only try to remember.

Well Preserved is about food – it is also about preserving the things that form our connections with it.  I often wonder what would happen if we stopped hunting.  Would these places be remembered?  Would the names we attach disappear into the ethos?  Would this part of history be simply forgotten?  Would they be replaced by names that other camps associated with them?

For today, I hope you enjoy some of the pictures of Wolf Road – it’s one of my favourite places in the world.