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The wind takes your ears away. Listening to turkeys while you call to them is nearly impossible on breezy days.
Like many of you, I’ve listened to a Weather Channel girl or two in turkey camp around the country. Heck I do that plenty here at home. Okay Strut Zoners, here’s what the weekend is dealing me:
The forecast for Maine’s Saturday, Oct. 16 turkey opener is for northwest winds from 15 to 20 mph with gusts to 30, with a fifty percent chance of showers. All this will follow Friday’s nor’easter—heavy rains, temperatures in the 50s, winds from 25 to 35 mph with gusts to 45. [ Read Full Post ]
Heads-up. I’m taking a break from my real-time hunt for a possible world-record buck to give you this report: The pre-rut is kicking in.
Here in Missouri both Grant Woods and I saw juvenile bucks pushing does today. And back in Montana, my buddies are reporting that little cheeky bucks are starting to hassle old dull-eyed does.
In a remote soybean field here in the Mississippi River valley, I saw the most conclusive evidence that the pre-rut is starting: yearling fawns running around like caffeinated kids at a daycare. [ Read Full Post ]
My main challenge at the moment is the heat. Down here in the South, it’s hot. I mean they have a different kind of hot than a kid who has spent his life between the latitudes of Utica, New York and Hoboken, New Jersey is accustomed to. I mean like dripping-sweat, can’t-escape-it, am-I-in-an-oven heat. Everything black on my jeep is somewhere between scalding and melted between the hours of 10 a.m. and 5 p.m. I can’t say for sure without an autopsy, but I think a stickbug I found on the hood of my jeep died from heat stroke. You can blast the A.C. for twenty minutes and wonder how you’re still hot. If you’re so hot you want to jump off the boat, think twice, the water temperatures are around 90 degrees in some of the Florida bays I’ve been fishing. There are nights when you put the pedal down, thinking there must be an edge to this heat somewhere, and if you go fast enough you can find it, but you can’t.
[ Read Full Post ]
I was on my office phone last Thursday when I spotted the first of the smoke, drifting over town on the wings of a 40-mile-per-hour southeast wind.
Within minutes the smoke grew black and billowing, and I knew it was bad news. With winds like that, gusting to 60mph, no fire is intentional. I wouldn’t know for hours that the blaze hit very close to home—literally. It was my neighbor’s barn, torched when a power pole snapped in the stiff wind. The old barn was consumed in minutes. It was all volunteer firefighters could do to contain the blaze to the structure and prevent it from catching the dry prairie, including my fields and pasture. [ Read Full Post ]
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