Almost Fifty Years With Out A Scope Kiss

Not sure what the real name is, but I have heard it called scope eye. It is the phenomenon that happens to most high powered rifle shooters at least once in their life. It is the result of the eye piece of a scope and the thin skinned boney part of your eyebrow meeting. During this meeting the eye piece always wins; generally leaving the eye brow bleeding profusely like a boxer taking a head butt. While direct pressure usually stops the bleeding, the swelling generally makes for an ugly cut that weeps for days and leaves an identifiable scare.

There are several ways that this happens. The most common way is sighting in your rifle. While laying it on a rest and not having the gun shouldered well, the recoil makes for the meeting of the two. This is very common with the larger calibers like 7mm and 300 magnums. Another way is by not adjusting the eye relief that some scopes are equipped with. This sets the distance from the eye to scope reducing the chance of the two meeting. The final way that I will discuss is the kiss you receive will you are under the influence of buck fever.

Several years ago while on a hunt at TVA’s land between the lakes hunting area, I was fortunate to harvest my deer early the first morning and loaned my rifle to a friend that I was hunting with. I felt that his rifle was under par for the area that we were hunting. He headed into the wood for an afternoon hunt, while I stayed in the truck to catch up on some rest. Several hours passed and I was awakened by a shot. This was before the two way radios that everyone has today. Waiting anxiously, my friend stumbles into the road gasping for air and bleeding from his head. My first thought is that he has shot himself, but I could see that he was smiling. So figured he has shot himself in the head and done some kind of brain damage. As I approached him I could see that the bent over poster gasping for air was from the pack a day cigarette habit and the blood was from a scope kiss. After catching his breath he explained that he had shot a huge deer and dragged it a mile before leaving it and the gun (my gun) to get some help. He had not realized that he had been kissed by the scope. I handed him a handful of paper towels and told him of his appearance. After he wiped most of the blood off, we headed to retrieve his deer and my gun. We found the deer and my gun a few hundred yards from the road and the mile he had dragged it turned out being only a few yards. He showed me where he had fallen asleep next to an over turned tree and was awakened by the deer. After chambering a shell that was forgotten, the deer stayed for a shot that was made while resting on the tree.

Back to my scope kiss; it was the days before muzzle loader season and I needed to shoot my gun to make sure that it was still sighted in. I was running out of daylight so I rested it on a boat cushion on the hood of my truck and fired off a shot and immediately felt a burning sensation on my eye brow. I chalked this kiss up to not shouldering the gun correctly, but the following day I am not sure what happened but the outcome was the same. Now I have two scope kisses to wear forever.

The next time you see a perfect round scar or two on the eyebrow of someone, you will not have to ask the embarrassing question of what happen, but you should anyway.

Take someone hunting, Greg

First Deer

This year I started deer hunting during archery season, after a 15 years absence. The hot days and bugs, particularly seed ticks and chiggers that are so numerous during late September and early October had kept me on the lakes fishing during this time of year.

The first day out I watched two bucks sparing at about 30 yards for 20 minutes before the larger eight pointer came with in 15 yards. The following Saturday I also got a six pointer from the same tree that I have hunted for 15 years. Both trips I got a reminder of why I had given up archery season with a few chiggers and seed ticks on each trip.

Opening day of black powder season had always been a favorite of mine. This year I was disappointed to find someone in a tree, only feet from the one that I have hunted for years. This was the first year that I can remember that I did not see any deer on opening day of black powder season. In the past I have always hunted out of a portable climbing tree stand that I would haul to the top of a large ridge where I hunted, hoping that no one would be willing to do the same. Next year I guess I will have to put up a ladder stand to mark the spot I hunt.

The next day my mother-in-law told me of a friend of hers that had seen 11 deer in her yard and two bucks. She had ask me to hunt at there property in the past. That afternoon I went to scout their property for the up coming week. After talking with the owners I got in to my tree stand with about an hour of daylight left. By the time it was dark I had seen a total of 11 deer and one small buck.

The following weekend I went to Ohio to hunt with a crossbow. The first morning I past on a big ten point buck that was only fifteen yards away hoping to get the opportunity on even a larger buck. As soon as it was gone I asked myself what I was thinking to let such a nice deer walk. An hour later I saw a big buck chasing a doe up and over the hill I was hunting. Forty-five minutes later it came back to the top of the hill alone. I decided to try my grunt call on him. Three short grunts and it was on it way. At thirty yards I had my cross hairs on him waiting for a side shot and again at twenty. At fifteen I decided to shot at his neck and down he went. It was an eight pointer but had a twenty inch spread and field dressed at one hundred and ninety pounds.

The following Thursday I had planned to show some men from my church’s “Men’s Outdoor Activity Group” how to butcher a deer that one of them had gotten early that week. After thinking about it, I decided that it may be more helpful learning how to field dress a deer. So I returned to the area that I had gotten permission to hunt and attached my stand to the base of a tree. I had just started up the tree only being about one foot from the ground and I heard a deer coming. It was a large doe at about eighty yards broad side.

When the men’s group arrived I had a fresh deer for them to see being field dressed. We first skinned the buck and quartered it up. And then we proceeded onto the doe. Some of the guys had never seen any of this before. Some thought it was interesting, and some looked a little green behind the gills.

The following week I had two doe tags for Roane County and I brought Dillon Holt from Kingston, a teenager that I had known from church and had taken a hunter safety course that I had helped with. We planned for a short evening of hunting. We set up on the ground next to the top of a fallen tree. I told him the deer would probably come from the pine thicket and start stomping the ground when they smelled us. Fifteen minutes into the hunt a large doe did what I expected and then stepped into a clearing at about fifty yards where Dillon made a perfect shot. I believe I was as excited as he was and enjoyed the hunt as much as any I had went on this year. Four days later we butchered his deer with the help of his younger brother and parents.

I have had the opportunity to take several young hunters on their first deer hunt and many times their first deer. Several of them have become avid hunters and most are still hunting today. I have always enjoyed taking youngsters on outdoor activities. Maybe one day when I become to old to go out by myself, they might take me.

Take someone hunting, Greg

Growls at Night

While hunting this past weekend a young hunter that joined us on one of our annual deer drive was telling us about something that had happened to him on a muzzle loader hunt, earlier that month. He is an experienced hunter that had taken numerous local deer, antelope and even an elk from out west.

It started early in the morning on a new piece of property that they had just started hunting. His uncle had set up on one side of a field and he crossed the field and set up against the boundary fence. While getting ready he could hear something walking on the other side of the fence. Thinking it my be a deer he was in a hurry to get his gun loaded, but before he could he heard what sounded like a growl followed by the animal running towards him while still making the growling noises. He started heading back to his uncle to get some kind of insurance that it was nothing to be afraid of. Still hearing the animal approaching he decided to pick up the pace to a run. He decides to call his uncle on the cell phone and let him know that he was coming. This was a relief to his uncle because he was not sure why there was a light traveling towards him at a high rate of speed. After he caught his breath he told his uncle what had happened. After loading their muzzle loaders, they both headed across the field to the fence to see what was going on. After hearing the noise and not being able to identify what was making the growling they decided to sit down and what till daylight. While waiting they discussed what it could be and the suggestion varied from coyote to a bear.

Daylight came and to both of their surprises there in the adjacent field stood a donkey, eyeing both of them. For the rest of that trip, anytime we could add growling or donkey to our conservation it was done.

Take someone hunting, Greg

Yard Targets and Yahoos

Football and cooler evenings are a sign that hunting time is close. Squirrel season has been open for a couple weeks and dove season and the early goose season has been open since September 1st. Local yard art of targets and 3D deer targets are a sign that deer archery seasons is approaching fast and a occasional roar of a rifle lets you know that deer gun season will be hear before you know it or that some yahoo has opened it early.

Every year there seems to be some new gadget or article of clothing that will help you bring that trophy home. Their advertisements make you wonder how you every got anything with out it, and then there is your buddy that hunts in blue jeans while smoking like a chimney. He seems to beat all odds and bags his trophy every year.

The deer seasons and limits are different this year. You need to be a lawyer to understand the new rules. Some area the limits have changed to 3 does a day for the entire gun season. That could be as many as 30 plus deer this year. At $70 per deer for butchering that could be a hefty bill of $2,100 and that does not include ammunition, snack, and gas costs. I believe you could get a side of beef for less.

Fall fishing is beginning to pick up. White bass are feeding on schooling shad minnows, while bass are starting to move into the cooling shallows. Tail waters bellow dams are still producing a mix bag including smallmouth, largemouth, strippers, and catfish (lots of catfish).

Recently I had the opportunity to participate in a game dinner at a local church. Their was plenty of good food, a speaker that talked on the importance of taking kids hunting and door prizes donated by local business. One prize was a South Dakota pheasant hunt for two. The winner did not hunt and was not too excited about winning, but her son showed enough excitement for both.

Take someone hunting
Greg Jones

Secret Spot

Everyone has their own secret spots, whether it is called the honey holes, or hot spot or by a slew of other names…everyone has their own.

Based on my experience, there seem to be three categories: top secret, secret, and good. The “good place” is the one that you tell most anyone about. The “secret spot” which is saved for family or your best buddies. Third is the
top secret” which is just for the closest family members after they have made an oath to tell no one. Some are found and others are made, but most are passed down from generation to generation.

For fishing, these 3 spots are described by the following criteria.
Top Secret Spot: This is the place that you don’t tell where on a particular lake or river or even what lake or river. I have even gone as far as letting a fish get off the hook to keep some gawking by-passer from seeing the spot. Painting your buoy marker black so it can not be seen by others is another common practice or passing up the spot all together because there are too many fishermen in the area.
Secret Spot: The “secret spot” is the one that some times produces but other fishermen already know about it. It could also be a species of fish that you don’t target to often or is getting towards the end of their run.
Good Spot: It’s the type of place that does not mater how many others are fishing it at the same time. This could be below a dam, a white bass breaking location, or an area that is trolled. This is the place you take others too, hoping this act of unselfishness will be repaid some time with one of their spots being divulged to you...preferably the secret of top secret spots.

Hunting spots are a little more closely guarded but the 3 categories still apply.
Top Secret Spot: The spot that has produced quality game for consecutive years with out any changes. This “top secret” spot is not shared with anyone and it is kept a secret by any method.
Secret Spot: The “secret spot” is usually on public land or easily accessed and has continually become less productive. An addition of a hunter or two will not impact your out come.
Good Spot: Lastly is the “good spot”. Usually it has been over run with hunters and is no longer hunted by you, or a wildlife management area that you seldom get drawn for any more. This spot you share with everyone. I try to stay away from most places described as “good.”

I have had the privilege to try a new hobby the last few years. It is mushrooming and morels are the trophy. Most shroomers don’t even let their friend know they shroom. It has to be the most secretive past time around. The first time I was taken, we drove around the area casing it to make sure there were no turkey hunters or hikers. During the ride I was informed that I was never to return to this area. We then park the vehicle some distance from the area and put on full camouflage and I believe he would have had me but on a leafy ghillie suit if he knew I had one. We sneak onto the area even though he had permission to turkey hunt. And within minutes we were gathering shrooms.

It was a lot like Easter egg hunting for adults. When it was all done I had about 180 and was hooked on this new hobby. My guide who will remain anonymous had over two hundred.

After checking the internet to get more information I found out that his top secret spot was worth all the fuss. Several articles talked about finding twenty or less and being ecstatic. They were also selling for fifty dollars a pound to some fancy restaurants.

If you find yourself in the woods around April 1st, look down every once in a while and you might be pleasantly rewarded with a morel or two. I have better luck around tulip poplar trees and on the sides and tops of hills. The ground should not be too rocky and leaf litter is a requirement.

Below are some photos from a recent shroom hunting trip.

Take someone mushrooming, but make sure you can trust them not to tell of your secret spot.

-Greg

Returning home empty handed (2007)

I had to pass on a recent trip to Saskatchewan, Canada on a waterfowl hunting trip with my brother Larry and friends, Steve Mayfield, Rodger Moon, Randy Lovegrove, and Keith Craft. Keith, Randy and Larry have made the trip many times. They have it down to a science.

The 30 hour road trip starts out on Saturday at 5:00 am. When they all meet to pile into the Chevy suburban which is pulling an open utility trailer with an electric chest freezer and a wooden crate with all the supplies. It looks like a scene from The Beverly Hillbilly’s. The Drivers take four hour shifts driving with an alert co-pilot. This is because of an early episode where a driver whose name is not mentioned, was catching a short nap while driving in the medium for an undetermined amount of time.

As with many trips food plays an important part. This trip is no exception. The drive is broken up with routine stops for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Keith makes up a special blend of trail mix that is snacked on the whole trip. Generally the conversation is centered on the expectation of hunt and of previous hunts, but meals at the lodge will be discussed in depth.

After arriving at the Canada border, we proceed through customs, which is not a difficult as one might expect considering that an arsenal of shotguns and thousands of shells are being transported. The final destination is an additional 300 miles away, but the excitement of seeing flocks of geese and ducks along the road will ease the rest of the drive.

Upon arriving at the lodge you are greeted by Greg Simoneau, a half Native Indian and Hungarian guide. He helps in the unpacking and room designations - generally segregated by snorers and non-snores, with every year being fewer of the later. After a brief nap and a snack you go for a ride to scout for tomorrows hunting site.

You return in anticipation of a great meal. Debbie the lady of the house, and Greg’s wife is a great chief. She has been hunting for elk the last couple mornings. Her stories of calling in bull elk and moose encounters are entertaining. Greg and Debbie’s son was also home from guiding for caribou in Alaska, above the artic circle. His stories were more intense particularly the grizzly bear encounters.

Returning down stairs you get ready for tomorrows hunt, followed by an evening snack and cocktail and you’re ready for bed.

The first morning you get to the field with a Kubota all terrain vehicle in tow. You unload the Kubota and pile in, a short ride across the barley field and you are in your predestinated spot from the previous evening scouting. A few minutes and the decoys and blinds are strategically placed followed by short talk on the hunting strategies. You get into the layout blinds and with all the excitement you still find it hard to stay wake. Awakened by the first fight of geese honking at a distance, you are ready. After the first volley you wonder why the dove hunting you did in preparation for this hunt seems not to improve your shooting, shooting from a layout blind is total different than shooting while standing. After an hour you have a limit of giant Canadian geese waiting to be picked-up. Everyone watches in amazement as Jake, Greg’s lab retrieves all 48 downed geese. It is amazing to watch the dog work.

After surveying your ammunition, you start to wonder if you brought enough shells for the remainder of the trip. Returning to the lodge for breakfast and Debbie’s morning elk hunting stories you are soon ready for a mid morning nap. You awaken in time for lunch and plans for the evening duck hunt.

Greg takes you to a field that he has previously seen ducks feeding in. You set up for the evening hunt while Greg scouts for tomorrow’s goose hunting location. Greg comes by a little before quitting time to watch the action and shuttles us back to the lodge for supper. A quick shower and upstairs we go to eat.

After dinner you waddle back down stairs swearing off food. You clean your guns which have fired more shells in one day than you normally would fire in a whole season at home. Getting your stuff ready for tomorrows hunt followed by a snack, cocktail and a few stories and off to bed where everyone has joined the snoring crowed by now.

Waking up the next four mornings repeating the first day’s routine.

The last morning after returning from the goose hunt you start packing, realizing you brought way to much stuff, just as you have done in the past. Greg goes and picks up the two hundred plus birds from the game processor and packs them into the freezer for the long ride home. You get your last breakfast from the lodge and listen to the last of Debbie’s stories. A few good-byes and off to the border.

This time at the border, things did not go too well. That very day there had been an outbreak of avian flu (bird flu) in a chicken ranch in Saskatchewan. The US government had quarantined all fowl from Saskatchewan. They confiscated all the birds and sent the hunters on their way. The next twenty-four hours you question how the USA plans to stop the hundreds of thousand ducks and geese that are migrating into the USA.

They return home with nothing to show for it, except memories, pictures and plans for a return trip.

Take someone hunting, Greg

Ohio Deer Hunt (2008)

This fall my brother and I had the opportunity to hunt Ohio for White tail deer. We had traded a few fishing trips for a deer hunt. Jamie, the guy that was to take us, had giving up deer hunting after harvesting more quality deer with a bow than both my brother and I had every seen. He had started crappie fishing all over the south including Reel Foot Lake and Weiss Lake in Alabama. Crappie fishing is my brother’s specialty. This past spring, Larry put Jamie and some friends on several good days of fishing and sending them home with several nice packs of fillets. I had also taken him on a successful rockfish trip for good measure.

Our first trip north was during rut, the second week in November, during Ohio’s archery season. We both went out and bought crossbows. Being new to crossbows, I purchased mine a few weeks prior to going in hopes of getting in some practice. The crossbow I choose was more expensive than any gun that I had every purchased. I was becoming comfortable with the bow and was impressed with the accuracy. It was equipped with a scope with three different cross hairs that were set for 20, 30, and 40 yards as well as a useful crank.

One afternoon while a friend, “Big Jon” Russell, was visiting, I pulled out the bow to show him how simple it was to shoot. I cranked it back and fired it. The arrow went about 10 feet and fell to the ground. I felt a burning sensation on my forehead. I reached up to find that I was bleeding. I forgot to remove the crank mechanism before firing. I am not sure if Jon was impressed with the crossbow, but he did manage to not bust out in laughter and that may have been because of the quantity of blood. Later we both had a good laugh at my expense.

We headed up to Ohio which was only a 5 hour drive to where we were to hunt. We got in after dark and got settled in for the night. The next morning Jamie guided each of us to a location for our climbing tree stand. Both my brother and I seen several deer but none where what we were looking for. We stayed in the stand all day. That night we compared stories and turned in early. The next day in a driving rain storm, both my brother and I shot at (notice the use of words: “shot at” not “shot”) the biggest deer that either of us had ever seen. His was over 40 yards and mine was less than 20 yards...so much for the practice.

That night after dinner we traded stories and we were taking a lot heat for wounding all of their big deer. It was a good thing that they did not know about the tradition of cutting off you shirt tail if you missed a deer.

The next day we hunted til noon, again “seeing” lots of deer. We thanked Jamie for the great hunt and made plans for a return hunt. On the return trip home both my brother and I keep talking about the size of the deer we seen. We both allowed nice deer to pass with out shooting in hope of seeing a monster buck.

During the last part of the shotgun season we returned with weapons that we where more familiar with. The first morning of hunting, I saw a nice buck and doe when then I noticed a huge buck was paralleling me at about 150 yards and all a sudden turned and came right to me. At 30 yards I dropped it and attempted to drag the 200 lb plus field dressed 10 pointer back to the house. I may have gotten it about 50 yards. I decided to go and get some well needed help.

The next morning I watched a power line from the heated truck while Larry braved the cold for another full day in the tree stand. The next day the same thing, and at lunch I decided to process the deer. It took a lot longer than normal considering that parts of it had frozen hard. That evening we had another game dinner. This time I had redeemed myself with my trophy.

Because Ohio only allows one buck per hunter per year, Larry returned for muzzle loader season after Christmas by himself. Though the weather was not good for hunting, warm with winds of 30 miles per hour, he did manage a nice 8 pointer.

We both are looking forward to next year’s Ohio Hunt in anticipation of what trophies will come our way.


Take someone hunting,
Greg