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Rhode Island allows hunting for deer with archery tackle until the end of January. I was contemplating what to do this afternoon when I got out of work and made a decision to at least take a walk with the bow. When one hunts as much as I do, you can get hunted out. Day in, day out in the treestand with bow, gun and muzzleloader. In the warmth and sometimes heat of the sun. The wet and cold rain. Snow and wind as well as everything in between. Some days are fruitful while others are more of an exercise in patience. So when the end of December marks the last day of muzzleloader season, it seems almost a relief.
This is the first year I have hunted Rhode Island. As a rule I shied away from the Ocean State for a number of reasons. One of which is that the best hunting is on private land and one needs written permission to access that . In such a small state it is almost impossible to do. Hunting state land is equally hard. Everyone who cannot hunt private land bombards the state lands and it can be like a war zone in some areas. The number of deer shot on such lands reflect a dim success rate. In fact, the patch of state land that I hunted had only two deer shot with the bow and arrow last season.
I chose to hunt the Ocean State for a couple of reasons. One of which is that my fiance lives in the state and nearby is some public land open to hunting. Also I now work in the Ocean State and it borders a wildlife management area open to hunting of all sorts of game. I figured that I would have some opportunity after work to get out in the field.
Today I was planning to don all of my camoflage clothing and other paraphenelia and sit in my stand. For some reason I said to myself, " I am just going to wear my camoflage quilted shirt over my fleece top and coyote fur hat. Yup. My good ole coyote fur hat. I convinced myself to still hunt with the bow and look around for sign. I walked up the road and spotted some tracks in the snow. I knew that the deer crossed the dirt road and would feed at night in the overgrown meadow. I summized that if I walked in a bit and found where they came out of the swamp I would have a chance at them. I walked to the west with the wind in my face. With a windchill near zero it was cold but the fur hat kept me toasty warm. I know that the human body can lose 40% of its heat through the head .Whenever I wear the coyote hat I am never really cold. In fact, I tend to sweat a lot unless it is really bitterly cold .
I walked slowly and kept my eyes open. I was scanning the overgrown meadow and looking for anything that was out of place. I walked to the edge where there was a lot of stony ground as it descended into the swamp. I spotted a small pile covered in snow. I wanted to take the digital camera and perch it on the dirtpile to take a self portrait. I figured that my Mary needed some nice wall paper of a dashing hunter wearing a fur hat.
I peered south and spotted a small thicket with what appeared to be a park bench. It was a couple of pails with a board across. I know another hunter had made it in the past. This place can be odd in the fact that as you walk you will find old chairs at various locales. I decided to sit on the bench. I could see down into the swamp where the run would traverse north and south.
I sat and rested. I figured that I would sit as still as possible with nocked bow in hand and see what happens. I closed my eyes and breathed in the cold winter air to clear my lungs as well as the soul. Many times while bowhunting I have heard game move more than see them at first. When you have some crusty snow there really is no way to silence it. No matter what animal it is noise will be made. It is how the noise is made. Animals don't break branches or stomp in a rythym. Only man does.
I peered to my right and saw a face. It was a doe browsing on some birch tree buds in the spot that I took the self protrait. I was awed by the sight of the deer that seemed oblivious to me. Why did it not see me? Why did it not scent me? I know that working all day long at the group home must have done something with odor. I wore my green woolies( the ubiquitous wool pants that most New Englanders with common sense wear during winter) along with my Schnee's, camo shirt and coyote hat. She browsed along without a care. Soon I spotted a larger doe behind her follow the same path that intersected the route that I took. She went behind me about ten yards with a small dirt pile that obscured my view of her as well as her view of me. Then soon I spotted another face. It was a third doe about 25 yards away . All three deer had come out of the swamp at 4:00PM to feed. I watched them for twenty minutes. They all seemed to completely ignore me. In a way I was dumbfounded. I sort of broke many of the rules of camo and scent. They just did their business without a second look.
Soon the doe that I first spotted peered through as she came closer. She spotted me. She looked right at me but I stood as still as a statue. She ducked her head and bobbed it up. Still staring as if to elicit a movement out of me. I figured the next move would be the foot stomp dance. She stomped her rear right leg twice and then kept on feeding. She then turned and walked away. She seemed unphased by the sight of this hunter with the big fur hat. She ambled off to the spot where she came from and soon all three took off back to the swamp.They did run but only for a short distance and then I could hear what appeared to be a normal gait . I wonder if there is a way that they can communicate to each other?
I smiled to myself and decided to get up and head to the house for a warm meal and a good tale. I egressed the thicket and then headed to the truck.
I looked at the pictures of myself and came to a conclusion. The green woollies I wear look almost like treetrunks that dot our landscape. It was hard to discern them from the pine and black birch in the background. The quilted camo shirt blended in obviously but the peice de restance was the coyote hat. It seems that the hat broke up the outline of my head and blended in with the background of the terrain. All that really stuck out was my face with the eyeglasses. Maybe there is something to hunting with a fur hat?
This is the first year I have hunted Rhode Island. As a rule I shied away from the Ocean State for a number of reasons. One of which is that the best hunting is on private land and one needs written permission to access that . In such a small state it is almost impossible to do. Hunting state land is equally hard. Everyone who cannot hunt private land bombards the state lands and it can be like a war zone in some areas. The number of deer shot on such lands reflect a dim success rate. In fact, the patch of state land that I hunted had only two deer shot with the bow and arrow last season.
I chose to hunt the Ocean State for a couple of reasons. One of which is that my fiance lives in the state and nearby is some public land open to hunting. Also I now work in the Ocean State and it borders a wildlife management area open to hunting of all sorts of game. I figured that I would have some opportunity after work to get out in the field.
Today I was planning to don all of my camoflage clothing and other paraphenelia and sit in my stand. For some reason I said to myself, " I am just going to wear my camoflage quilted shirt over my fleece top and coyote fur hat. Yup. My good ole coyote fur hat. I convinced myself to still hunt with the bow and look around for sign. I walked up the road and spotted some tracks in the snow. I knew that the deer crossed the dirt road and would feed at night in the overgrown meadow. I summized that if I walked in a bit and found where they came out of the swamp I would have a chance at them. I walked to the west with the wind in my face. With a windchill near zero it was cold but the fur hat kept me toasty warm. I know that the human body can lose 40% of its heat through the head .Whenever I wear the coyote hat I am never really cold. In fact, I tend to sweat a lot unless it is really bitterly cold .
I walked slowly and kept my eyes open. I was scanning the overgrown meadow and looking for anything that was out of place. I walked to the edge where there was a lot of stony ground as it descended into the swamp. I spotted a small pile covered in snow. I wanted to take the digital camera and perch it on the dirtpile to take a self portrait. I figured that my Mary needed some nice wall paper of a dashing hunter wearing a fur hat.
I peered south and spotted a small thicket with what appeared to be a park bench. It was a couple of pails with a board across. I know another hunter had made it in the past. This place can be odd in the fact that as you walk you will find old chairs at various locales. I decided to sit on the bench. I could see down into the swamp where the run would traverse north and south.
I sat and rested. I figured that I would sit as still as possible with nocked bow in hand and see what happens. I closed my eyes and breathed in the cold winter air to clear my lungs as well as the soul. Many times while bowhunting I have heard game move more than see them at first. When you have some crusty snow there really is no way to silence it. No matter what animal it is noise will be made. It is how the noise is made. Animals don't break branches or stomp in a rythym. Only man does.
I peered to my right and saw a face. It was a doe browsing on some birch tree buds in the spot that I took the self protrait. I was awed by the sight of the deer that seemed oblivious to me. Why did it not see me? Why did it not scent me? I know that working all day long at the group home must have done something with odor. I wore my green woolies( the ubiquitous wool pants that most New Englanders with common sense wear during winter) along with my Schnee's, camo shirt and coyote hat. She browsed along without a care. Soon I spotted a larger doe behind her follow the same path that intersected the route that I took. She went behind me about ten yards with a small dirt pile that obscured my view of her as well as her view of me. Then soon I spotted another face. It was a third doe about 25 yards away . All three deer had come out of the swamp at 4:00PM to feed. I watched them for twenty minutes. They all seemed to completely ignore me. In a way I was dumbfounded. I sort of broke many of the rules of camo and scent. They just did their business without a second look.
Soon the doe that I first spotted peered through as she came closer. She spotted me. She looked right at me but I stood as still as a statue. She ducked her head and bobbed it up. Still staring as if to elicit a movement out of me. I figured the next move would be the foot stomp dance. She stomped her rear right leg twice and then kept on feeding. She then turned and walked away. She seemed unphased by the sight of this hunter with the big fur hat. She ambled off to the spot where she came from and soon all three took off back to the swamp.They did run but only for a short distance and then I could hear what appeared to be a normal gait . I wonder if there is a way that they can communicate to each other?
I smiled to myself and decided to get up and head to the house for a warm meal and a good tale. I egressed the thicket and then headed to the truck.
I looked at the pictures of myself and came to a conclusion. The green woollies I wear look almost like treetrunks that dot our landscape. It was hard to discern them from the pine and black birch in the background. The quilted camo shirt blended in obviously but the peice de restance was the coyote hat. It seems that the hat broke up the outline of my head and blended in with the background of the terrain. All that really stuck out was my face with the eyeglasses. Maybe there is something to hunting with a fur hat?
