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The Greater Part of Hunting

The greater part of hunting is still and silent, waiting, looking, and hoping, living inside your own head and your field of view. Most of hunting is waiting in anticipation of action.  This is the way for deer hunters.  Some hunters have their minds made up before they leave the house.  They have always used the same blind, or the same tree, because it always works. Until I found myself immersed in thinking about deer and their habitat well after the hunting season ended, I hadnt yet realized what hunting was all about.  I always knew it was about pursuing and killing an animal for food, but only recently have I realized the depth of experience I would find through hunting.  It is quite unlike the images of enormous bucks printed in the magazines, or the seemingly constant action portrayed on the latest trophy hunting shows.  These deer do exist. Even here in Michigan where most believe that if it’s brown, it’s down.  I have seen only a few that gave me involuntary convulsions.  Too o

Scent of the Earth

It had been months since she pulled me into her gardens.  I hadn't forgotten her.  I could never manage to forget her after all we have been through.  Having come to know her so closely, I realized that while she was master of the woods and waters around me, she also now lived inside of me, her spirit shining through.  Her scent hit me immediately when I opened the lid of the gray tote.  Everything was as I left it.  My backpack was on top and I quickly opened the zipper to grab the trigger release.  As I handled it, I was overwhelmed by her fragrance.  Memories and experiences flowed through my mind.  I vividly recalled all the moments we were all alone, and the secrets she revealed. It was like the feeling when you see an old friend after years away when I noticed the strong and distinct smell.  As the thoughts of all my hunts passed through my mind I wondered if anyone else recognized this her musty scent.  Was it my own scent, maybe a little, but mostly it was hers. It was the

The Turtle King

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I could see it feeding below the edge of the lilly pads, and had to approach slowly. The toes of my bare foot rested just inches above the water as I stood on the corner and paddled towards the slimy edge where the biggest turtle id ever seen in my pond lay. The afternoon sun was bright and it made his dark mossy back show up against the lime green carpet of weeds that covered the bottom. It was my own pond. I was the turtle king. This turtle was elusive and I had only ever seen him twice before. He was nearly 2 feet across the back of his brown and green moss covered shell. His head was bigger than my fist and the claws on his feet seemed like knives to my eight year old eyes. As I approached the snapper from behind I sensed my advantage, and paddled harder, but soon realized the increasing tsunami created by the blunt hull of the paddle boat was heading straight towards him. I saw his reaction as the wave rolled over the turtle and through the scum. I slammed the long handle of t

Up A Creek

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I was always curious about the creeks.  Usually on the way to some stretch of the main branch we would cross any number of creeks.  Some fairly large ones and lots of tiny ones. Eventually I’d seek them out. It was usually by myself on the way home from somewhere, when I could steal away for a few hours.  One of the most memorable creeks I found drained into the Jordan.  It was a bright morning in late July and the sun was hot. I had three hours until I was planning on meeting my family on the beach in Charlevoix.  We drove separately in order to spot our car at the end of our canoe trip the next day. I had the canoe strapped on top but I wouldn’t need it here.   The air was moist and I started sweating instantly upon opening my car door.  The mosquitoes swarmed in. I removed my sunglasses, closed my eyes, and applied the magic. I put the little bottle in my shirt pocket for later.  I grabbed the 2 piece spinning rod from the backseat and strung it up. I tied on a bla

Take it Easy

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"Many go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after." ~ Henry David Thoreau Joe arrived at work like any other day, only on this day he had the late model Ford minivan with his fishing gear loaded inside, and the kayak loaded on top. Joe always felt a bit anxious about bringing the kayak to work. Did it seem unprofessional? Was it uncouth? Did it make the van look better or worse? Or was it just fine? After a thorough marginal analysis, he always settled on bringing it. Excitement beat down the anxiety because in the end it meant a few hours on the water that would have otherwise been lost to the cosmos and the setting sun. Joe wouldn't let that happen. He felt an urgency. Somehow, often at the behest of his family and friends, Joe made sure he used his time according to his values and beliefs. Joe was sure in his belief that life was short and he didn't want to waste it inside on the couch or outside praying that his neighbors wo

A Creek Rediscovered.

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There was a rush of warm moist air as the door swung open across the tall wet grass that was engulfing the ends of the bridge. The sun had been up for two hours already, and the bugs were flying. Mosquitoes swarmed at my face as I swatted with both hands and shut the door all at once. After spraying myself down with DEET real good, I made sure to put the little bottle in my fishing bag which was wedged behind the seat under my waders. For just an instant I thought about how lucky I was to have the DEET, this chemical magic that generations of anglers did not have the luxury to enjoy.  I was thankful and hopeful for the day.  For now it would rest in my pants pocket. I made sure by patting my ass twice to be sure that it was fact in my pocket, because I suspected I would need it again before I returned. I popped the trunk and got out. It was hot already, and I rushed to get into my moist waders. I had used them three days earlier when I first found this spot, and the dank aroma spoiled

The Last Sunrise.

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This morning I paddled and fished under my summer’s last sunrise.  I will have students back in front of me tomorrow, and I just couldn’t bear to spend my last day of summer planning and prepping. Instead, I decided to do what I love, the thing that calms my soul, and refreshes my mind.  While I loaded up, I was quickly convinced that one last paddle and fish was needed to get my mind in order to be prepared for another 9 grueling months of shaping young minds.  I simply had to go fishing, if not only for me,  I was doing it for them. I popped right up when the alarm sounded.  I doubt it will be so easy tomorrow though.   It was wet and very cloudy.  The river and sky seemed darkly ominous but quietly inviting.  Darkness was winning when I pushed off, and the sun stayed hidden as it began to rise behind a gray blanket.   Steam poured from the balmy water.  I paddled into the mist looking for clues to the morning and beyond.  I relished the smooth  cadence of my  paddle and breath and I

Happy Birthday Son.

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The rising sun beat us to the road as the steam poured from the asphalt into the cool air. We were a little late but I wasn't deterred. My son, just a few minutes out of bed, wasn't looking all that enthusiastic, so I put on his favorite station. He reached over and turned the volume up a bit. I looked over to see a hopeful smile as he turned away to gaze at the glistening fields whipping by. I drank half my coffee and we were soon unloading the new boat. I had used it once by myself, but this was our maiden voyage together. We only had a couple hours to fish because his 10th birthday party started at 1, but we had plenty of time. The river was low and clear and only one side of the dam was open and flowing. Lucas entertained himself by exploring the shoreline and throwing rocks. I got all rigged up and soon I was paddling up to our first spot by the dam. I gave him a spinning rod with a 3” floating Rapala and pointed toward the slow water under the left side of the dam

The Optimist.

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It was a frantic drive home from work to get everything ready for the evening fish. I couldn't get home fast enough.  Not because I was short on time, but because I was excited to fish.  It had been a long winter and I had an evening carved out for myself. Now it was up to me to make the most of it. The sun was peeking through a gray dome, barely.  The weatherman was calling for showers by 8pm.  I figured I could get 4 hours of good fishing in and maybe avoid the rain if I was lucky, but I had my rain jacket packed in case.  The traffic was putting a delay in my fish master plan.  In my master plan i could make my daily commute in exactly 30 minutes and get loaded in exactly 15 minutes and be fishing by 3:30.  This was the master plan.  I would get there just as the waters were at their warmest for the day and my assumption was that they would be more willing to take during this afternoon window, or so I thought.   The clouds were winning and had cleared out the parking lot b