Brian Mccombie

Catch Me If You Can

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:38 -0400

Despite Tom Matych's best efforts, his boat came in only second at the Redneck Fishing Tournament along the Illinois River near the town of Bath. Matych's fishing "tackle" was a 4-foot length of two-by-two lumber. The prey? Silver or jumping carp, an alien species from Asia.

"It was the wildest two hours of my life!" Matych says. "I was whoppin' 'em with the stick, knocking 'em out of the air as they jumped over the side of the boat."

Organizer Betty DeFord says the tournament's 38 boats netted (or, as in Matych's case, whopped) 1,263 silver carp in two hours. The winner, with 202 fish, collected a $340 purse. The fish were then given away as food.

Heads Up

Behind the fun is a real problem. The invasive carp, escapees from Southern fish farms that made their way up the Mississippi River, are being blamed for declines in native fish. That's quite possible, says Steve Shults of the Illinois Department of Natural Resources.

To people like DeFord, the jumping fish have ruined more than just the fishing. Silver carp jump as high as 8 feet in the air at the sound of approaching boat engines and frequently smack people upside the head. "This year has been so bad," DeFord says, "you can't even take a simple boat ride without getting slimed by those carp!"

Crude Treatment

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:37 -0400

BASS Tour pro Frank Scalish got a major case of sticker shock this past August at the Citgo Bassmaster's Northern Open on Lake Champlain, N.Y. "Gas was two-sixty a gallon my first day on the lake," Scalish remembers. "My second day it was three-nineteen a gallon and it was three-twenty-five to three-twenty-nine by the end. I spent twelve hundred dollars in fuel on that tournament."

Scalish estimates he will spend nearly $5,000 on gas traveling to and competing in the first five events of the BASS Elite Tour in 2006 alone. He also expects some tour newcomers will be forced out by the exorbitant cost of fuel.

After Hurricane Katrina, gas prices surged to an average of $3.05 a gallon. By early October, gas was down to $2.81, though some analysts have said prices could climb again.
As gas peaked at $3.56 a gallon in Maine, bear guide Tim Nickerson saw his profits eaten up by transportation costs (all of his clients kept their bookings) and the cost of maintaining bait sites. He has already raised his prices for 2006 as a result.

Marva Mountjoy of the Washington Outfitters and Guides Association says that while gas prices have cut into members' profits, clients aren't canceling hunts. "Most folks booked their hunts a year ahead," she says. "Next year we may see a difference."

But charter-boat captains have already lost business, says Florida Guides Association president Captain Pat Kelly. "Some charters have raised their prices," he notes. "Some have shortened their destinations. Others have simply gone out of business."

Mark Parman of Wausau, Wis., wondered if he should stay home instead of making a three-hour drive to a duck hunt. "I've got a good spot up there, so I'm going," he says. But what if prices soar toward $4 again? "Oh, man," Parman says. "It'll be time to make a decision!" .

So You Wanna Be a Guide?

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:37 -0400

In 1990 Scott Boulanger made one of the biggest decisions of his life. Just 26, Boulanger was already a master electrician who owned a 10-man electrical contracting shop in Vernon, Conn. A lifelong hunter and angler, he had always dreamed of making his passion for the outdoors pay.

So Boulanger enrolled in a hunting-guide school, the Russ Willis School for Guides in Noxon, Mont. During four weeks of instruction, Boulanger learned the fundamentals of working with horses and mules (including how to pack and shoe them), how to set up a wilderness camp and what it takes to guide hunters on successful elk hunts.

"It was awesome," Boulanger says of the experience. "I went as a vacation and to learn about Western big game. I fell in love with it, went home, sold everything and came back to Montana to live and work as a guide."

On paper, Boulanger's career change seemed like a big mistake, especially financially. He took more than a 50 percent pay cut at first. "I made great money as a contractor," Boulanger says. "But it wasn't about the money. I didn't want to live on the East Coast any longer, and I'm a people person." That and his love of the outdoors made guiding a logical choice.

Boulanger guided for seven years; then he bought his own hunting-outfitter business, which he still operates today. In 1999, Boulanger also opened the Western Montana School for Guides in Darby. Every spring, the school enrolls about 22 people who long to become guides. The four-week program costs about $4,000 and focuses on working with livestock, setting up wilderness camps and guiding hunters.

Apparently, many people share Boulanger's dream; he receives nearly 1,200 calls a year for the 20 or so spots in his guide school. The good news is that the market demand for new hunting guides is very strong. Boulanger says almost every one of his graduates lands a job, and fast. Being a hunting guide can take you to some awesome country few other people ever see, and your knowledge of big game and the outdoors will, with time and experience, outpace nearly everyone else's.

Yet being a hunting guide, like most jobs, has its downside. Low pay, cranky clients and the difficulty of finding time for your own hunting are just a few drawbacks. Guide school isn't all that easy, either.

[pagebreak]
Education of a Greenhorn

Brian Fontaine is from Lancaster, N.H., and has hunted deer with guns and bows since his teens. After high school, he thought about going to hunting-guide school but landed a good-paying job in Lancaster cutting and trimming trees. "But I just wasn't happy," he admits.

So in August 2003, Fontaine, then 26, arrived in Cody, Wyo., to start the four-week hunting-guide course at the Bliss Creek Wilderness Archery Elk Guide and Packer School owned by Tim Doud.

As he immediately discovered, "This is a very demanding job physically. It will separate the men from the boys real quick," Fontaine says.

The school began with livestock work, all of which was new to Fontaine. "I had no horse experience, period," he says. "I didn't even know how to put a halter on a horse." But he soon learned that and more, including how to load the 80-pound packs that are slung on horses and mules.

After two weeks of livestock training, the hunting work began when Fontaine and his fellow students packed 22 miles into the Washakie Wilderness in the Shoshone National Forest to learn how to bowhunt for elk. Students practiced elk calling and learned how to use the wind, glass the high country and stalk up on big bulls. They also learned the proper way to get their clients in position to take a shot.

When we spoke to Fontaine, he'd just graduated from Bliss Creek two weeks before. He'd been such an outstanding student that Doud hired him as a guide for the coming season. Fontaine was also just back from his first time guiding an tual client, on an archery elk hunt. "I lost ten pounds last week hunting," he says. "You do a lot of sweating. You carry anywhere from a thirty- to a thirty-five-pound pack and hike up and down drainages and across sidehills all day."

But hunting is only one aspect of a guide's busy schedule. There's setting up camp, cutting wood (with two-man crosscut saws, since chain saws aren't allowed in wilderness areas), clearing trails, hauling in hay for the pack animals and getting everything ready for the next day, which begins at 3:30 a.m. for the guide. Fontaine loves it all and couldn't wait to get back out in the mountains with his next client.

The Original School

the first guide school was started by Erv Malnarich in 1959 in Corvallis, Mont. Michael Knott took over Malnarich's ELM Outfitter and Guide Training Inc., in 1999, and the school currently endorses five guide schools, including Doud's Bliss Creek outfit. It also provides a home-study course on becoming a hunting guide.

School quality varies, though. Some schools do
a very thorough job of preparing you to be a guide. Others? Tim Doud found out the hard way in 1979 when he went to a Colorado guide school. "Actually, all I did was pay the school's owner to go to work for him," Doud says. What instruction Doud got was more incidental than on purpose, though he learned a lot by working hard, making mistakes and asking (and re-asking) questions.

Unfortunately, Knott says, there's no national guide school accrediting body to evaluate and rate the schools. So a person interested
in guide school pretty much has to do his
own research. Knott recommends examining available guide-school Web pages, reading the literature and talking with school administrators. For the last, write up specific questions you want answered about the curriculum and the level of instruction you'll be receiving. Better schools will have a list of past students as references.

"Our basic student is someone just coming out of high school or college," says Doud, "someone who loves to hunt and fish and has decided the guide-school thing is for them."

Doud adds that the better shape the students are in, the better it is for them. He
specializes in archery elk and, as he puts it, "Hunting elk with a bow is not about sitting and waiting for an elk to come to you. It's about running around and calling and getting an elk in the right position for a shot."
Ultimately, though, Doud says being a good guide-school student and eventual hunting guide is less about physical shape than about attitude. "My perfect student is someone who has common sense and is willing to work hard. That's it. The rest can be taught."

[pagebreak]
Guide Burnout

Ron Mace guided for gun and bow elk hunts in Montana's Bitterroot Valley from 1995 to 1999, after attending the Royal Tine guiding school in Philipsburg, Mont. Mace was 21 when he started guiding. A resident of eastern Washington State, he spent his teen years
hunting and fishing and loving the outdoors. He loved being a hunting guide, too. In the beginning, anyway.
Mace went into the Bitterroot Valley in August to set up the hunting camps and make the necessary preparations for hunting season. That season ended in November, and Mace
remembers that he and the other newly minted guides got back into town only once or twice a hunting season, for just a single night each time. But he didn't mind. In fact, he loved it. "It was what we all wanted. We were young and gung ho and didn't care how long we stayed out there," he says.

At some point, though, things started to change for Mace; he first noticed it in his relationships with his clients. "I started getting crabby and snippy at them," he admits. "I started being forward with them, and that's not right because they were paying a lot of money to be out there."

Most clients were Easterners used to hunting whitetails and seeing lots of animals. They often expected the same experience with elk, yet that isn't how it works. "We'd go out and after two hours, the client would say, 'Man, there's nothing out here!'" Mace says. Then the complaints would start.

Part of Mace's growing agitation was due to the poor physical condition of many clients. "I just couldn't take the whining and their being lazy and out of shape," he says. "They all had the old football injuries, and they're all complaining they're not seeing any elk. But they wouldn't go up the next ridge to check for elk because they were too tired!"

Having no personal hunting time also started to wear on Mace. "I got into this whole business because I love to hunt. That was probably the biggest reason I got out of guiding."

Return East

Bryan Ross has been a hunting guide for 15 years, but he uses very little of what he learned at guide school. That's not surprising, since Ross works at the White Oak Plantation, a hunting lodge outside Tuskegee, Ala.

While White Oak hunts take place on a
sizable amount of land (about 20,000 acres of hardwoods, pines and swamp), there's no need for horses and mules. Ross's guide school taught him to hunt elk, but at White Oak it's all about whitetails in the fall and turkeys in the spring. And with a hunting lodge that holds 35 people, there's no camping.

Ross, who hails from Port Sulphur, La., attended a Montana guide school in 1987 when he was 26 years old. He got a job right away guiding in western Montana's Selway Mountains, but in 1988 went to the White Oak Plantation and has been there ever since.

While he doesn't use a lot of what he learned in guide school, he thinks it is "a good weeding-out process. If you finished guide school, at least you show the I-want-to-be-in-the-woods attitude." Still, he admits that new guides come and go at White Oak regularly.

[pagebreak]
What's the Appeal?

With all the potential problems, why do people even consider guide school and guiding? "They want the freedom they have out here in the Rocky Mountains," says Knott. "You're going to be seeing and doing things a lot of people are never going to experience."

Even Ron Mace highly recommends both guide school and guiding to those who seriously want to do it. "Even if you end up guiding only for a season or two, it's an experience you'll never forget. I wouldn't take any of my time as a guide back. It was one of the greatest things I've ever done."

One for the Women

Kelly Hackenmiller briefly went to college
after high school and then worked in a factory. But
the 26-year-old native of Osage, Iowa, always liked being outdoors. In the
summer of 2003, she
enrolled in the Western Montana School for Guides, becoming the only womanused to hunting whitetails and seeing lots of animals. They often expected the same experience with elk, yet that isn't how it works. "We'd go out and after two hours, the client would say, 'Man, there's nothing out here!'" Mace says. Then the complaints would start.

Part of Mace's growing agitation was due to the poor physical condition of many clients. "I just couldn't take the whining and their being lazy and out of shape," he says. "They all had the old football injuries, and they're all complaining they're not seeing any elk. But they wouldn't go up the next ridge to check for elk because they were too tired!"

Having no personal hunting time also started to wear on Mace. "I got into this whole business because I love to hunt. That was probably the biggest reason I got out of guiding."

Return East

[pagebreak]
What's the Appeal?

One for the Women

A Hunter at the Helm

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:37 -0400

A 27-year veteran of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS), H. Dale Hall became the agency's new top dog in October. Since 2001, Hall had served as the agency's Southwest Regional Director. OL caught up with Director Hall shortly after his senate confirmation and asked him these questions.

OL: When did you last go afield?

Hall: Well, the last time was in September [BRACKET "2005"], when I went down to the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico and shot an oryx. It was about 600 pounds to a little better on the hoof, but it dressed out to about 265 pounds of meat. I used a Remington 30/06 with 180-grain bullets.

OL: Oryx? Have you eaten any of it?

Hall: You bet. It has absolutely delicious meat, some of the best meat you'll ever have! It's probably the closest to beef of any big-game animal.

OL: If you had your druthers, hunting-wise...?

Hall: When I have the time, I hunt just about anything I can...But my favorite hunting, if I had to pick only one and do it the rest of my life? That would be duck hunting.

OL: What do you see as the relationship between sportsmen and the National Wildlife Refuge system (managed by USFWS)?

Hall: I think that the refuge system is going to be the haven for the common hunter in the future. When some places are getting $10,000 a year, per gun, for quality duck or deer hunting, I think the refuges will become the main recreational resource for more and more American hunters. Of course, for us, hunting is a management tool. It helps us keep wildlife populations in balance, as well as providing a recreational opportunity to a significant group of conservationists: hunters.

OL: Are you looking at ways to bring more hunters and anglers onto the refuges?
Hall: Yes, we are. But we have to balance certain safety concerns, too. National Wildlife Refuges are there for people to hunt and fish, but also for people to take photographs, hike, whatever. But I think there are ways to increase hunting and provide non-hunters more access, too.

OL: Hurricane Katrina destroyed thousands of acres of coastal wetlands. What will be the role of the USFWS in restoring them?

Hall: I believe Katrina has given us the opportunity to...[BRACKET "understand"] that wetlands are there to protect people, to serve as buffers for storms, to filter and clean water, and a host of other things. Yes, we need to repair levees and fix floodgates. But we also need to incorporate wetlands into the larger [BRACKET "restoration"] plans to protect our coasts, our cities, and our people.

OL: Chronic wasting disease (CWD) keeps popping up across the country. Will the USFWS take a greater role in CWD management, nationally?

Hall: First of all, the service is involved in supporting the states and their CWD management. But we do defer to the states, because the circumstances are different in individual states, they each have different management strategies... In the long term, I see [BRACKET "CWD management"] as a partnership rather than the federal government stepping in and telling the states what to do.

OL: Are there certain issues you think the USFWS should be looking at as we go into the 21st century?

Hall: There are two issues I've been looking at. The first is water. Water is becoming a more and more contentious resource issue....Water's a primary resource, and it has to be there for the rest of it all to work. [BRACKET "The USFWS has"] to be at the table when natural resource decisions concerning water are being made.

OL: And number two?

Hall: I am very concerned about the future of hunting. Fishing is, our five-year surveys show, doing pretty well, with a small [BRACKET "participation"] increase in the last survey. But we're seeing a decline in the number of licensed hunters. That represents a loss of revenues to the state game agencies. But it also means that fewer people, percentage-wise, are going out to enjoy this important recreational opportunity.

Related to this, I'm worried about the loss of habitat pushing more and more hunters onto smaller tracts of land. So that's another reason I see the refuge system and the habitats here being of such importance to hunters. It would be a travesty if certain sports, like duck hunting or elk hunting, became a rich man's sport, and were no longer available to the average person in this country who supports hunting and conservation.

Elk On Trial

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:36 -0400

Ever need a couple of bucks to get you by until payday? Nevada's Wildlife Department knows the feeling.
It borrowed $3 million from the state just to get through the fiscal year that ended June 2004. One big reason for the financial shortfall, says agency spokesperson Chris Healy, is a half dozen years of drought. That's made fewer big-game tags available in some areas. But the larger drop-off has been in fishing licenses sold, as anglers opt for places with more water.

"At Lake Mead, they've lost a lot of the water level," says Healy. "The fishing's actually still very good, but aesthetically it doesn't look like the kind of lake people want to fish."

A new Internet application system for big-game tags has cost the department, too. Before, hunters snail-mailed applications and tag fees to the department, pumping in hundreds of thousands of dollars by March. Now, Wildlife receives only the $12 application fee.

Another potential worry: an ongoing lawsuit by outfitters to end Nevada's cap on nonresident big-game tags. If the outfitters get an injunction to halt the fall hunt, which is a possibility, Healy says Wildlife could lose millions.

Meanwhile Colorado's Department of Wildlife (DOW) has asked the state legislature to raise some license fees, including resident big-game tags; a decision was expected after this issue went to press. License sales remain strong here, says DOW spokesperson Tyler Baskfield, but resident hunters haven't seen a fee increase since 1992. However, inflation has crept up and DOW has spent millions fighting chronic wasting and whirling diseases.

Hunters Kill Bison Hunt

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:36 -0400

Though they'd love to take credit, it wasn't animal-rights activists who killed a Montana bison hunt near Yellowstone National Park in January. It was hunters.

"I opposed this hunt because I support bison hunting," says Tim Mulligan of Whitehall, a Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks (FWP) commissioner who along with three of his fellow commissioners voted to postpone the hunt. Because he felt it wouldn't be held over a large enough area to provide fair chase, Mulligan feared the hunt could have given Montana hunters bad publicity in the national media. The commission has already voted for an expanded hunt to be carried out later this year. However, the Department of Livestock (DOL), which has most of the regulatory control over bison, can still veto it.

The DOL simply wants bison controlled to prevent the spread of brucellosis to cattle. The Montana Wildlife Federation wants a hunt, but only if bison are managed as wildlife, not
livestock. The federation believes that won't happen until FWP has total management responsibility for bison, something that isn't likely to happen any time soon.

Faces in the Field: Steve and Debbie Stratton

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:36 -0400

Last deer season, Debbie Stratton of Flushing, Ohio, was making venison jerky for her nephew in the U.S. Army in South Korea when a friend asked if she could also send some to her son, an Army staff sergeant in Baghdad. Stratton happily agreed and prepared some for the sergeant, who shared it with his fellow troops.

"We heard they were really excited to get it," says Stratton. "The jerky's high in protein and it's easy for them to carry." With the troops eager for more, she asked around for venison. But the deer season was winding down, and she received only 50 pounds. Undaunted, she's gearing up for this year.
A local deer club is now urging members to donate venison to Stratton. A nearby American Legion post has provided a
vacuum sealer, and Debbie and husband Steve, a hunter himself, have purchased a used meat slicer in anticipation of all the meat.

"I look forward to making more. All of the soldiers who hunt are
so happy to get a taste of home," she says.

Canada Conflict: Having a Cow

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:35 -0400

Canadian Rick Paskal is darned unhappy with Americans. "We're ticked off at you people!" he says. "So, absolutely, American hunters are not welcome on any of my land!"

What's got this feedlot owner from Picture Butte, Alberta, so riled? In 2003 Canada discovered a single Alberta cow infected with mad cow disease. [BRACKET "At press time another had been discovered."] The U.S. Department of Agriculture closed American borders to Canadian cattle, costing the beef industry there billions. So guys like Paskal are hitting back, hoping that by denying access, they'll motivate sportsmen to pressure U.S. politicians to lift the ban. Paskal has allowed U.S. sportsmen to hunt his land in the past. But as the signs he posted now explain, "No Beef =
No Hunting."

Hunting in the City

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:35 -0400

Urban archery deer hunts have received attention by the outdoor press as a great way to hunt near home and reduce potential conflicts between people and animals. But if you'd rather hunt with a gun or chase something other than deer, there are a number of other urban opportunities as well. You just have to know where to look.

"Deer, pheasants, ducks, Canada geese, you bet," says Paul Schutte, ticking off the huntable species in Corcoran, Minn., a small city within sight of the Twin Cities that has always allowed gun hunting. Schutte, a hunter who happens to be the town's chief of police,
however, did have to push for changes to hunting regulations a few years ago.

"The changes had to be made, to ensure that growing safety issues were addressed," he says. Those included some close calls during deer drives. In response, the Corcoran City Council made deer hunting with firearms legal only from elevated stands.

"I told the hunters, it's either that or you won't have hunting at all," Schutte says.
"It's worked."

In Washington, Ga., officials recently waived the ordinance against discharging firearms to allow squirrel hunting within city limits, where gray squirrels are wreaking havoc. "They're damaging power lines, blowing up transformers and getting into attics," says Washington Chief of Police Mike Davis, who had issued 15 in-city squirrel-hunting permits by the end of October.

"A lot of the people in Washington have hunted and been outdoors folks all their lives," Chief Davis says. "They know all about gun safety, though we still give them a talk about it when they get their permits."
Below are some prime towns where hunting is part of people's everyday lives.

[pagebreak]

Top Urban Hunts

*Juneau, Alaska

Hunt Location: Mendenhall Wetlands State Game Refuge (a 4,000-acre refuge completely within Juneau city limits)

Species: Canada geese, green-winged teal, mallards and pintails

Dates: Sept. 1-Dec. 16*

Special Regs: Waterfowl hunters must have a no-fee permit from Alaska Fish and Game (AFG). "Last year was the first year we had a permit requirement, and we gave out seven hundred fifty-six permits," says AFG biologist Neil Barten.

Note: Double your action. Put
in on the Gastineau Channel or Mendenhall River, bag some ducks and catch some salmon.

*Yuma, Arizona

Hunt Location: Various open spaces within city limits, including those adjacent to Marine Corps Air Station Yuma

Species: Mourning doves

Dates: Sept. 1-15; Nov. 19- Jan. 2*

Special Regs: No shooting within a quarter mile of a dwelling without owner's permission

Note: "Many incorporated towns in Arizona, because they include so many open spaces, allow some hunting within city limits," notes Randall Smith, Arizona Game and Fish area biologist.

*Washington, Georgia

Hunt Location: Virtually

anywhere you can get landowner permission and safely shoot

Species: Gray squirrels

Dates: Aug. 15-Feb. 28*

Special Regs: Can use only single-shot shotguns with No. 6 shot. Hunting hours are from 8:15 to noon, Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. Requires $3 permit and a firearms safety talk by Chief of Police Mike Davis.

Note: Before the in-town squirrel hunt was authorized, Washington tried trapping. "It was just a bridge too far," says Davis. "Not enough traps and too manpower-intensive."

*Tennessee

Hunt Location: Potentially every city

Species: All

Dates: Vary

Special Regs: No discharge of firearms if it threatens people, although Tennessee landowners (with hunting licenses) can harvest game on their property even within city limits where firearms discharge is otherwise illegal.

Note: In 2004, the state legislature unsuccessfully tried to stop in-city hunting by restricting the dischharge of firearms within city limits. The effort failed when it was determined by the attorney general that restrictions couldn't be passed simply to stop hunting-there had to be a demonstrable threat to public safety.

Faces in the Field

outdoorlife-editor — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:26:35 -0400

When he started collecting turkey feathers a few years ago, Mike Davis never imagined he'd drive a pickup truck loaded with them to National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF) headquarters. But that's exactly what he did last summer, making the four-hour one-way trip on the interstate to Edgefield, S.C., hauling feathers he'd saved,
scavenged, pulled and plucked.

"Last year, I did fifteen whole birds and a hundred twenty-five wings," says Davis, 36, a mill worker from Elizabethtown, N.C. "Wing feathers pull out pretty easy, but it takes about two to three hours to do a whole bird."

The feathers are given to the Zuni Nation of New Mexico, explains NWTF biologist Jennifer Tapley, to adorn
traditional religious and dance costumes. Since the fall of 2000, NWTF has collected 1.2 million feathers, and
Tapley estimated Davis's August 2004 donation at 55,000.

"It's an ongoing project for me, and
I know it's going for a good cause."