Snowy Gate at the top of the ridge road by Ellen.

Kitchen Window Cardinals & Ellen taking a sled ride

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 27, 2012

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 27, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Thanks to the blizzard last week, my newly retired better halft Ellen got her first “snow day” since she was a little kid. In all the 36 years Ellen worked at Gundersen Lutheran, she rarely got to stay home on a snow day with the boys and I. Since I teach at De Soto High School, a district that often has to call school off or at least run late or close early due to lots of drifted and icy ridges and hills, I got to stay home a few times over the years. Ben and Mark didn't get too many snow days either. When they still had to get on the bus to go to school in La Crosse, there was a lot of let's say, consternation on their part. Although I can't prove it, I think some people resent this. Angie Jesseski, who teaches up in Holmen, always sends me a wisecracking email if we close or are late; they rarely close. While Viroqua closes often enough, Seniorita Halvorsen – who used to be my next door neighbor at DHS – will routinely give me a hard time when we are and they aren't. Even the people at the Gunderen Lab were a tad jealous I think. When I would learn of a school delay or closing when El had already braved the highways to town and work, I would call in and announce to her that “I love my job!” She was used to it, but over the years, when I would call her and someone else answered, I could hear them off the receiver calling, “Hey Ellen, it's Mr. I-Love-My-Job!” I am not sure if that is very professional at all. Anyway, snow days are a nice surprise “vacation” day, but for the record, we are trading each one for a beautiful sunny June day that could be spent in the boat filling the livewell with bluegills, so there is some justice I guess.

Ellen loves snow. She loves to watch it fall. She loves to snow shoe on it. She takes pictures of it. She loves to go for walks in it. She – and I am not making this up - even loves to shovel it. On Thursday last, she came in to announce to Mr. Bah-humbug-I-love-my-job-but-not-so-much-snow, that she had been sledding! She told me that while she was shoveling off the patio, she was thinking about the old Flexible Flyer sleds that she and her brothers and sisters and we all used to use back in the day. Remember how you could sorta steer them? So she went up to the shop and dug out one of the boys' old blue plastic sled boats and tried riding it down the hill they used to call “Suicide.” She said she had to bust some brush to get to the bottom of the hill; then she had to get Scout to quit laughing. I grabbed a Nikon and took a few snaps of their fun. When El came in, she reminded me of our neighbor's old yellow lab, Sam, who used to chase the boys down the hill and grab at their scarves and coats causing no end of accidents and grief.

After a lunch of tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwiches, we both went back out to do what I love best about snow, move it. Okay, if you believe that I love that or much anything else about snow, I have a bridge I'd like to offer to you for sale between De Soto and Lansing, IA – cash only, and you can set up a toll to make money. Anyway, she ran her shovel and I got “the beast” snarling and rattling. A couple hours later, our wet clothes were hanging by the fire in the basement – okay, that's not entirely true. The wet clothes were hanging in the basement, but there is no fire, just heat blowing out of the duct work attached to the Geo Thermal system. It dries things fine, but there was something about that wood fire on days like this.

Our bird feeder has become cardinal center. While I doubt cardinals like a blizzard, they at least are the perfect bird to complement blowing and drifting snow. I set up a camera and tripod in the kitchen to record pictures and videos of the birds at the feeder on Thursday. We had at least 30 cardinals and untold numbers of bluejays, chickadees, sparrows, and woodpeckers elbowing their way up to the birdseed.

The boys got their love of snow from their mother for sure. They live in Coloradao for the main purpose of riding on mountains of it. While they are getting dumped on now, a couple of weeks ago Ben and some friends flew to Mt. Baker, Washington to ski. He said they got 30 inches the day they got there on top of the 10 or more feet they already had. He and his buddies put “skins” on their skiis and hike up the mountain using their skiis as a sort of snow shoe. Then they ski back down. That'll get you in shape. Mark traveled to Idaho and Jackson Hole, Wyoming to snowboard about the same time. Ben takes snow pictures for the Vail Valley corporation and he wasn't finding much to photograph until last week, but he did get a shot of Mark blasting off a drift on the evening news in Denver. Mark's luxury limo business, Zone Transporation, needs the snow. People come there to ski, so if fewer people are coming, well you can do the math. I have to admit that snow on the mountains is something to see.

Finally, I have to apologize to the Bergen Township road crew. I can't repeat the words, descriptors, and/or curses, that followed the truck that plowed in the bottom of our driveway on Thursday. For crying out loud, Ellen had just shoveled that part of the driveway open. Anyway, it was no big deal and our road is open. Thank you Guys, and thanks to all of the dedicated people who take care of our roads and utilities in all weather and at all times of the year; you do a necessary and important job that takes a lot of time and guts. My brother-in-law Jamie plows for Grant County so I know first hand from him and my sister how your job affects the family and such. Anyway, if you haven't already, wish your State, County, and Town highway people, any police officer, your firemen, EMTs, your postman, UPS drivers, and Fed Ex persons a Happy Holiday and a great New Year, and tell 'em thanks.

Until next time, get out – Happy Holidays to everyone from Ellen, Scout, Gypsy, and me here at Grouse Hollow. Go Bucky! Go Pack! Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 20, 2012

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 20, 2012 by Greg Koelker

I apologize to readers, but it is hard to start something about the outdoors or holidays when mostly I can't get the tragic school shooting in Connecticut last week off of my mind. When I heard about it, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach, and I can't even begin to imagine what those parents, grandparents, siblings, classmates, teachers, friends, cousins, neighbors, clergy, police, EMT's, funeral directors, everyone in that community must be going through. I do know that the effects don't end in Connecticut. Mass shootings wherever affect each of us, our state, our nation, our world. Some will demand gun control, others more school security, still others more mental health screening, or more police. One psychologist on the radio said that there are thousands of potential killers among us who fit the profile discovered by study of mass murderers. But – fortunately – they are “false positives” who lack whatever it is that is missing to actually take action. I have heard one idea in all the media noise since that makes sense to me. Commentator David Brooks on the PBS Newshour said on Friday night that media should not show the murderer's picture or tell their name – ever. Take away the fifteen minutes of fame idea. The perpetrator is dead, but without the idea of becoming famous or infamous, perhaps some potential killers would not do it. Who knows?

What can we do? During this golden season, remember those families and that community and each other. Celebrate this time to give those who are going through this first hand something to look forward to.

Until next time, turn off the news and hug your kids and grandkids even more than you do. Enjoy the season.

Grouse Hollow Journal Xmas for Outdoors Types

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 13, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Ho! Ho! Ho! Let it Snow! Let it Snow! The first snow fall of the season is slowly piling up this Sunday morning and Christmas is coming faster, so here are my annual gift giving suggestions for Outdoors Types.

First off, I want to share that I was so totally out of shape when hunting season came around this year that I didn't enjoy it near as much as some other years. There were days I had to find the gumption to get out there, I saw it as almost too much work. I walk every day, but . . . anyway, we decided to renew my gym membership and so far I have been getting in to work out at least three times a week; I do feel better, sore and stiff, but better. A gym membership costs around $35 a month, but I paid in advance for a year and they threw in six more months for that price, so it was nearer $20 month. It's a lot, but if it helps prevent a heart attack or a fall in the woods, it will be well worth it. A recumbant exercycle is pretty cool and low impact on the joints and back. Amazon had one for $150, but they run up from around $250 usually (and the entire family can use it while watching TV or reading or listening to music or whatever). The family would benefit from a wii video sports console and games, and people actually exercise while they play the games. I have played softball and jumped from cloud to cloud on my niece's game and I worked up a sweat. They aren't cheap but Amazon had one for under $200. The best and easiest (least expensive) exercise is still probably walking. I bought a new pair of New Balance walking shoes for $50 on sale the other day. I chose them because they were made in the US, but they make my feet and knees feel better while I walk, making it more likely that I will get out there. Some good thick walking socks are not a bad idea either.

Being in shape to get out there is good and being safe while up there in a tree stand is really good. A pretty good gift idea to show you care for your tree stand hunters starts with a good saftey set up. Some safety harnesses are a real pain to get into and so they don't get used, but some are easy. The one I have is a camo vest that I put on and pull straps up between my legs to attach to seat belt type clips. I buckle the vest and I'm ready to hook up to a tree when I get up there - $75-150.

A new ladder stand would be welcome for hunters who have a place to put them and leave them up. They run from $50 to $400 and probably more, but most are pretty safe and much easier to climb into than climbing stands or stands you hang on a tree. For around two bills you can find one for two people so your hunter can take along one of the kids or you can spend some quality time together watching wildlife. One of the accessories I like using while spending time in a tree stand is a bow hanger. I attach the hanger to the tree and my bow is hanging right where I need it while my hands are warm in my pockets. There are a variety of hangers out there, but $25 should get the job done. The Iron Talon bow holder clamps on to metal tree stands and holds a bow at the ready for under $20 at Cabelas. They even have a gun and/or crossbow holder. If your tree stand hunter is also into shooting video of his or her shots, a tree stand camera mount might be a good gift for around $50. Of course a new Go Pro Camera would be pretty cool at around $200. On the ground hunting tent blinds are relatively inexpensive. I saw the one I have for $40 – during the hunting season.

If you have an ice fisherman to buy for, a new Vexilar or Marcum or other flasher would be a great gift and maybe increase the number of times your fisherman fries fresh fish - $280 to $600 (you might want to use a gift certificate here and let 'em pick out their own unless you know which one to get.) If the ice ever gets to being really thick around here again or if your ice angler heads up north, a power auger would be pretty cool. $300 to $500 – another one that might be a good one for a gift certificate. For around $40 you could get a plastic utility ice sled for pulling gear out on the ice or even pulling firewood down to the house. Ultra-lite ice poles are good and can be had for around $20. I suggest a long one so that your fisherperson can walk about and fish without having to drag a bucket along.

Renewing or ordering an outdoor magazine or two would be good. I have always enjoyed Gray's Sporting Journal for the well-written stories and art and photography, but it is $37 for seven issues a year. I want to recommend Wisconsin Outdoor News. This bi-monthly newspaper is full of Wisconsin stories, news, editorials, pictures, recipes, lake maps, and more at $26 for 24 issues annually, well-worth it. Wisconsin Natural Resources is colorful and local at $9 fo 6 issues. Wisconsin Trails is informative and full of Wisconsin vacation and day trip ideas but $25 for 6 issues. I like In-Fisherman at $15 for 8 issues as well.

Finally, I asked Ellen what she thought outdoor women would like and she immediately replied snow shoes. That's a great idea, for kids and men too – and they will get some exercise. You can get some really nice ones for around $160. I recommend the ski poles to go along with them. Some snow would be nice too I suppose. She added that goose down vests and coats or Smart Wool socks or Under Armor long johns will make the cold less cold. Lots of women never buy real out door pac style boots with linings so they don't have the right footgear to get in a tree stand or go to a Packer game. An electric boot dryer would be nice too at around $20.

Of course, gloves, mittens, vests, hats, sweaters, pocket camera, Under Armor anything, Scent-loc anything, socks, a good thermos, etc. would all be great gifts. I recommend you don't buy hunting boots, puppies, guns, bows, four -wheelers, binoculars, anything where the outdoors type might need to have a say in it. If you get something like this, make sure you have specifics first or keep the gift receipt. A gift card is always a good idea. (Make sure it won't expire in a year when you buy it.) I also recommend books for those long winter nights. On the Hunt: The History of Deer Hunting in Wisconsin is one I read and recommended last year - $19 in hardcover, and Under a Poacher's Moon – Stories of a Wisconsin Game Warden by retired Wisconsin warden Steve Dewald is a good one too - $14 in paper back is a good read. Finally, after proofreading this column, Ellen suggested I add a food dehydrator. She got me a Nesco that works fantastic. It makes jerky in a couple of hours and it can be used to dry fruit and mushrooms and such as well - $50 and up.

Until next time, get out – I suppose I'd better get out and get some gift shopping done too. Think thick ice! On Donder, on Dasher, on, uh, uh, oh yeah, Rudolph, etc. etc. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 6, 2012 by Greg Koelker

This morning (Saturday last) is dreary and damp.  Scout and I went to the dump over on what used to be School Section Road but now goes by the name of Chipmunk Ridge Road.  I visited with our neighbor, Doug the Barn Wrecker.  (He and another neighbor tore down our old dairy barn a few years ago.)  His group had good luck deer hunting, killing 29 deer over the last couple of weeks!  On the way back to Highway 35, I stopped to glass a boat load of water fowlers parked in some grass with a bunch of decoys set up north of the Stoddard Bay berm.  I had no sooner got my binoculars on them when three guys popped up out of the grass covered craft and started shooting.  I had the window open and could make out some pops from the shots.  A dog started prancing on one end of the boat, but someone made it stay in the boat.  I saw a person jump into the water and start wading to pick up whatever birds they had out.  While that didn't look like fun, I imagine the dog would have gotten really cold making that retrieve.

Anyway, we are not hunting today except for clothes and stuff to take along to Lambeau Field tomorrow.  We are going on a birthday party bus that starts in Cassville and picks us up in Burton at 4:30 AM.  El's baby sister Lori Fure turns 50 this week and this is what she wanted to do for her birthday.  We were in immediately.  Let us hope that Aaron and crew are sharper than they were last week in New York.  I have only seen the Pack win at Lambeau, usually trouncing the Bears, but I have seen them beat the Vikings and Oilers there too.  One of the most memorable games was on December 20,1999.  It was memorable because I was there with my older son Ben, and buddies Curt Christensen and Ron Von Glahn and we got to see a Packer victory; Favre and the Pack eked out a victory over the Tennessee Oilers 30-25.  The game was also memorable because it was Reggie White and Mike Holmgren's last game at Lambeau.  The day was even more special because perennial radio announcers Jim Irwin and Max MacGee were honored at half time as they were retiring after the season as well.   Reggie retired with 68 1/2 sacks after 95 games as a Packer from 94-99.  He died in 2005 at age 43.  Holmgren left Green Bay after leading the Pack back to respectability in the playoffs over 7 seasons with a 75-37-0 record and a Superbowl XXXI win and Superbowl XXXII loss.  Holmgren may be coaching - at Dallas of all g'dawful places - soon, according to sports radio rumors.  Jim Irwin worked for WTMJ Radio in Milwaukee and was the voice of the Packers for 30 years.  He passed away this year.  A long time Packer player (he started in 1954), Max McGee scored the first touchdown in Superbowl history (with a killer hangover); McGee was Irwin's color commentator from 1979 until 1998.  I think it worth mentioning that McGee started the Max McGee National Research Center for Juvenile Diabetes in 1999.  Anyway, it snowed the entire day, a light flurry of snow that accumulated by late afternoon into a fluffy frosting on the field and stands and parking areas.  We grilled brats and such before and after the game.  In fact, we were the last people to leave our area of the parking area.  The clean up crews were going down the row across from us loading trash into the bucket of an end loader.  I spied a red and white PlaySkool cooler that was about to get tossed out, so I rescued it.  It had beer and sausage and cheese in it that hadn't been touched!  It has been so named "The Stolen Cooler" ever since and has made too many fishing, hunting, and vacation trips to mention.  The Stolen Cooler returns to Lambeau with us this weekend too.  

The trip to Lambeau was an adventure that started at 3:15 AM on a foggy Sunday morning.  The bus ride didn't seem that bad even with stops in Fennimore and Madison and Fond du Lac.  We stopped for breakfast at Mac and Don's in Sun Prairie and then motored around the east side of Lake Winnebago north to Green Bay.  The fog had lifted and we saw a few deer hunters going out into flat plowed ground.  I am not sure where they planned to jump deer, but what do I know.  Anyway, the bus driver parked in the lot behind Champions Sports Bar, and by the time I got off, people had already put up a table, put out food, and many had popped a top.  There were sandwiches, cookies, chips and dips, jerky, ham wrapped cream cheese and pickles, bloody mary mix, Rice Krispie Treats and more bars, etc. etc. no brats  or dogs though.  Dressing for the game was iffy as it was relatively warm out, like 50.  I opted for no Under Armor, but I wore my insulated bibs and my deer hunting coat - yeah, I was that guy in blaze orange.  We were able to use Champions' restrooms because we had paid to park there, so when Ellen and I went in, we were thrilled to see that the Happy Schnapps Combo was playing.  Their most famous hit is "The Bears Still Suck" polka as well as other great songs like "Do You Want To Go To Work Today?" and "On The Badger."  The lead singer boasted to the crowd that he loved beer, but that he once quit drinking it for ten years and then he turned thirteen!  That was pretty cool, but it was pretty hot inside, so we went back to the tailgate party.  After a picture of me holding the Stolen Cooler up with the stadium in the back ground, we headed to Lambeau some three blocks away.  

The stadium was rocking by the time we walked in.  There were players warming up on the not - so - frozen tundra and other pre-game activities and announcements going on, like don't cause a ruckuss or you'll be removed and charged.  We bought a beer and water ($10.50) and wandered into where I thought our seats were.  Eventually a kind older couple pointed out to us that we were in their season ticket holder seats and that ours were on the other side of  stadium.  You would think the sections would be numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, and so on, but the odd ones are one side and the even on the other.  Duh.  Anyway, we made it to our seats before the Pack was introduced.  The National Anthem was performed by a fantastic trumpet player and as his last note faded into an echo, two fighter jets screamed in past one of the huge monitors and blasted across the stadium, leaving thunder and screaming fans in their wake.  Pretty cool.  Aside from an inebriated and extremely loud and foul-mouthed Viking fan across the aisle from me, the game was fun.  The stadium police had a visit with him by the end of the first quarter and he settled a bit.  After half-time, he didn't come back until there were only four minutes left to play in the game and hope was pretty lost for the purple people.  Lori and Dave were two rows behind us, so we were able to high five on the good plays and growl together on the not-so-good plays; boy, is Adrian Peterson fun to watch, except when he is scoring on the good guys.  Aaron Rodgers and Randall Cobb are much more fun to watch when they is scoring touchdowns for the good guys though.  The Packers won 23-14 and we yelled until we hurt.  

Until next time, get out - what a weekend for football fans: the Badgers drubbed Nebraska 70-31 to give us something to look forward to in the new year on New Years Day while the Packers take the lead in the NFC North after the Bears lost to Seattle.  More importantly for some of you, don't forget to get your Spring Turkey permit application taken care of by December 10.  You can apply online at: https://jc.activeoutdoorsolutions.com/wi_public/goHome.do.  Black Friday may have come and gone, but shoppers for outdoors types may still need some ideas, so my annual Christmas suggestions column is coming next time. Enjoy.

Some Images of Deer Hunting, 2012

The Friday Night War Council at Burton.

The trophy wall at Burton



Lori's opening morning buck

Some opening morning trophies.

The boning line.

Setting up the sausage stuffer.

The Bench

Ellen coming back to the truck on opening morning.

He's safe.

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 26, 2012

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 29, 2012 by Greg Koelker

The Big One has come and gone.  El and I had a good time opening weekend staying with Barb and Chuck down on Dutch Hollow Ridge near Burton and eating too much good food like homemade vegetable beef soup or homemade chicken noodle soup or barbecue or, well, you get the idea.  We partied a bit at night, and we hunted hard with the Burton Deer Hunters.  Our group killed 9 deer in the first two days.  Nine deer is down for us; our deer party has been averaging something like 18 critters tagged in the first couple of days over the last couple years.    El and I did not fill any tags.

On Sunday morning, I was celebrating, lost in a reverie of days spent in the woods with lots of deer (okay, I was snoozing with my back against a tree) when I had that feeling that someone was watching me.  I opened my right eye and saw a frozen deer staring down at me from about forty yards away.  My Ruger was leaning against the tree to my left, and I slowly slid my left hand to the gun and got a hold on it.  I knew if I moved much the deer would vaporize.  I waited until the buck - it was a small buck - put its head down and stepped into some gooseberry bushes to pull up and look through the scope.  No deer!  There it was!  I made out its head and neck.  I slid the scope down to where I thought I could see it's shoulder  behind the bushes and squeezed the trigger.  The deer spun as if hit and ran away low to the ground.  In less than a second, I lost it in the trees up the hill.  I climbed to the spot  where it had been standing, for some reason thinking it might be there yet.  It wasn't.  There was no sign, that is no blood or hair, that I had hit it.  I must have pulled the shot or shot under it.  After half an hour of circling about where I saw the deer run, I realized that I had missed.  I saw ten other deer that day, all too far away to shoot at.

Anyway, we butchered 9 deer on Monday morning by 10:30, with most of the crew (some were at work or school) doing their time honored jobs on the line.  Brother-in-law Dave had two deer skinned by the time we got there at 7 AM.  Dave takes the back straps out after he has the deer skinned and puts them in a cooler.  They will soon be work for the steak cutters.  Brother Bill had a child's wagon loaded with loins and rib cages ready for the boning tables.  I put on some rubber gloves, got a newly sharpened knife out of Bill's knife drawer, slapped it over a steel a few times, and began working on dismembering a hind quarter that was waiting for me on the end of a picnic table.  The boys  were boning out rib cages and shoulders tossing waste in boxes and burger chunks in coolers and chunks to be cut into steaks and chops in others.  Chuck and Dave had taken out the tenderloins on the nights before so they wouldn't dry out.  Those most special cuts of meat would end up as medallions fried in butter and onions by sister Kathy (who does not hunt) for lunch, along with more pots of homemade soups, cookies, meat sticks, cheese, and cookies and such.  The boys got the huge grinder going making burger.  Dave drove a cooler full of trimmings down to Hauber's in Dickeyville to be made into summer sausage.  Bill's wife Amy returned from Sam's Club in Dubuque with boxes of pork shoulder that some of us cut open, boned, and then sliced into strips to be used in making rope sausage.  Eventually, a mix of seasonins was worked into some batches of ground trim and ground pork that were run through a couple times for making rope sausage.  Todd and nephew Nick ran the sausage stuffer filling lengths of casings with mix destined for some apple smoking in Bill's outhouse sized smoker.  Ellen and Barb and Katie cut steaks and butterfly chops and packaged them in meal-sized bags ready for the freezer.       

I hit my first deer on Thanksgiving.  Ellen and I hunted here at Grouse Hollow on Turkey Day morning.  Dan Brown was here too.  He called the house a bit after 6 AM to say he had just seen a big buck in the field.  I changed my plans and took the truck around the back way to the ridge to try and get ahead of the buck while Ellen went up into the Grouse Hollow to watch for it if I managed to turn it back into the farm.  I took a long walk through the Corner Woods, along the neighbors, and out onto the point above where I hoped the buck had taken to ground.  If it did, we never saw it.  Ellen did see some baldies run over the hill.  Dan later told us they stopped by his tent blind, but he figured they were too small to shoot.  Anyway, that night after a day of feasting and visiting and watching football, Ellen and I and nephew Jason Junk were headed north on Highway 35 just out of Lynxville when Ellen exclaimed, "Deer!  Stop!"  There was a small deer in the middle of the northbound lane, probably blinded by the light.  I slammed on the brakes and the Explorer performed admirably stopping almost on a dime after a straight, tire squealing slide that ended when the car rolled the small deer.  The deer went down hard but managed to get to its feet; it jumped the concrete barrier and scrambled up the steep hill beyond.  The lights were okay and the engine was working fine, so we drove home.  An inspection under the yard light showed only some deer hair on the bumper and maybe a bent license plate, but otherwise no visible damage, so we got by with one I guess.  

We didn't hunt on Friday.  The wind made it so miserable, it was just nice being in a warm house and doing inside stuff.  Ellen made homemade chicken noodle soup so the house had an aroma to die for.  I did homework and worked on wedding pictures.  

On Saturday morning, El walked along a ridge top while I stumbled up the ditch in the bottom of the Oak Hollow.   No deer.  

After a trip to the dump and our friends the Swenson's at the Flying Horse Stables, we went out again to sit out the last two hours of the day.  Ellen took a stand overlooking the Grouse Hollow, while I went to the Corner Woods and found a comfortable stump.  The air had a bite to it that burned my cheeks as the sun went down.  There was an occasional breeze that rustled dried oak leaves over head, but the only action I had was birds and squirrels.  There were maybe half a dozen fuzzy tree rats playing a rough game of tag on a topless hollowed tree a few yards down the hill from me.  They were fun to watch, but I couldn't hear much when they were ramming around.  About 4, I heard something else coming. I managed to stand and slowly turn in time to see a deer running by maybe 40 yards away.  I couldn't get my gun up in time for it, but then another one, a bigger one, came on the run through the same spot.  I got it in the scope and fired.  I waited.  I had hoped to see a buck coming right along or maybe standing watch somewhere up the hill from me, but after a bit, I gave that up and walked over to where I thought the deer had been when I shot.  I called Ellen and told her what had happened and that I found some deer hair at the scene of shooting.  She was up at the of the Grouse Hollow and on her way.  I looked for blood.  Nothing.  I walked down the way the first deer had gone, thinking I'd find some sign or maybe find my deer.  Nope.  I walked back up to the original spot and then saw a deer stretched out facing me twenty feet away.  I was standing by the doe when Ellen got there.  She found blood immediately.  Apparently the deer had spun away from me when I hit it and had run a few yards before turning and falling down.  I had made a good kill with the entrance wound in the lower rib cage.  I tagged the deer's ear and Ellen held the deer's legs while I field dressed it.  As it would take a lot more time if I did it, Ellen walked back over the ridge to where I had left the four wheeler and drove it back.  After a bit of struggle trying to lift the limp critter onto the back of the quad, Ellen suggested we lift up the front end together and slide the rest on.  That worked well.  Back at the ranch, after a turn at the hydrant to wash out the deer's insides, we shifted the body to the back of the Ranger and I took it down to the Thirsty Turtle in Stoddard to register.  Chad Myhre slipped a metal tag through the ear hole of my deer and then told me about his group's hunt and the busy weekend the folks at the Turtle had registering deer.  Saturday and Sunday of opening weekend sounded like it was crazy.  Early on, all reports were of a record kill on opening weekend, but keep in mind the weather.  It was downright balmy so a lot people who might have waited to register their deer until later in the week probably couldn't wait.  Back at the ranch, I was able to back the pickup under the rope hoist and hang the deer up to the rafters in the pole shed.  I used a flashlight and my hunting knife to cut out the tenderloins before I went in for the night.

On the last day of gun season, we lay pretty low.  El went to church, while I started this column.  I also did a load of my dirty clothes and finished fixing up the Christmas lights.  El got the kitchen floor ready for a rug under our kitchen table.  You see, although we have geo-thermal heat, the tile under our kitchen table is attached to a cement slab that used to be a porch and has no heated area under it.  The rug makes the area more comfortable.  Ron Von Glahn came up to collect the deer I shot for canning later this week and he and I got in a load of firewood up on the ridge. Later, our neighbors the Sikoras called and wanted to deer hunt so we made some plans and got out.  In two drives, I did not see a critter besides squirrels, rabbits, and birds.   Anyway, we did move a few deer around.  While our neighbor Jim Pickar did not see anything from a tripod stand in the bottom of the hollow, 12-year old Jake, had two baldies come up to him.  He said he didn't dare move as they were on his "wrong" side.  Gregg said there were at least three deer that moved in front of him, but all escaped for another day.  At sundown, I stopped to chat with Jared Krause who had hunted all day with no luck.  He said their group only had one buck, and - because their group has rules on buck size, it cost the shooter - his nephew- $100 for shooting a buck with less than a 15-inch rack.  The money goes into a sausage fund.  Jared had heard that most of the neighbors hadn't done much better.  I shared that our Iowa hunters only took home one doe.  Anyway, I know the warm kitchen felt pretty good by the time we quit.  El and/or I might get out with smoke poles (muzzle loader rifles) this weekend; however, we are off to Lambeau Field and the Viking/Packer game this weekend.  Let us hope for great weather and a Packer victory.  After last night's debacle, they have to play better right?  

Until next time, get out - there is plenty of deer hunting left what with the muzzle loader season on now and a week of antlerless hunting and the late bow season.  If that's not enough, well then, I don't know.  The stories will have to do for another year, I guess.  Turkey hunters who haven't got their spring permits applied for should do it.  The deadline to apply is December 10.  Enjoy. 

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 22, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 22, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Deer Hunting Eve!  The holidays have arrived.  I celebrated with a cup of
coffee and a walk with Scout.  The ground was frosted and the air biting,
but not too much.  I was thinking, "Perfect."  That is perfect for opening
morning, tomorrow.  I kept thinking, "Tomorrow at this time, oh boy."
I'll be in place at The Bench, a hundred and a half acres of thickly
wooded hillside surrounding a long rolling field deep in the Grant River
valley.  I don't know what crops were planted there this year, but I hear
tell that there are plenty of deer.  Brother-in-law Bill, who farms the
land we hunt on, declared basically that "brown is down" this year,
because on one 300-acre bean field, there were literally no soybeans along
the edges as much as 30 to 40 yards in - the crime mostly attributed to a
large herd of hungry whitetails.  Anyway, down the road from the house, I
spotted a deer silhouetted against a picked cornfield.  Ironically, there
is a crooked red "No Hunting" sign set in the fence line by the road in
what would have been in the foreground of the scene - if I had a camera
with me.  (I'll remember the camera next time to guarantee that I never
ever see that exact scene again.)  It stood frozen, watching Scout and I
pass on down to the neighbor's.  On the way back, it was still watching
us, and then it chose to exit, tail high, trotting up into the woods.

For the last couple weeks, Jake Sikora (who rides down to Stoddard with me
in the morning) and I have been noticing a pickup up this big valley,
probably someone bow hunting.  This morning when I went by, there was no
pickup, but there was a deer standing right were the truck usually has
been.   I saw a couple of deer just outside of Stoddard in a cornfield
too.  (I hope I haven't used up my quota of seeing deer for the week just
yet!)

Anyway, when I get home from work today (Friday), El and I will load the
Ranger with the clothes, guns, and boxes of food and gear she has been
accumulating this week.  In years past, when the boys were little, I would
load the pickup and then put a sheet of plywood over the pile for the boys
to ride on in the back.  They would dress warm, bring along their Walkmans
and games and such, and crawl into sleeping bags for the ride down.  We
had a blow up "boot" between the cab and the topper, so we would have the
back slider window open to give them some heat.   I remember more than
once, closing the window after scolding them to quit fighting and arguing
and wrestling and complaining about what the other was doing or saying.
When we got to the home place, after hugs and "Hi Grammas and Grampas," we
would unload military style with everyone carrying stuff in.  After we
started staying at Barb and Chuck's, it was the same.  Once after
surveying the rows and piles of hunting stuff on their huge kitchen floor,
Chuck complained, "Well, didn't you throw in the kitchen sink?"  After we
remodeled the kitchen, I saved the huge steel sink to take down for the
deer hunt; we never had room, but it would have been funny.

Anyway, I suppose I'd better get this off and get some papers corrected,
so until next time, get out.  Here's hoping you and yours have a warm and
family filled Thanksgiving and deer hunt - and the Packers keep winning.
Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 15, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 15, 2012 by Greg Koelker

The Big One has crept up and is now upon us. This weekend somewhere close to a million men, women, and kids will take to Wisconsin's woods, fields, and swamps to participate in the hunt for an estimated – no, I won't put down anybody's estimates, but let's just say, that with the mild winter we just experienced, there are going to be plenty of critters to shoot at - if last year is any indicator. In 2011 deer hunters in Wisconsin tallied 347,711 deer total, an increase over the previsous two seasons. I for one, am getting excited.

Our hunt, while pretty informal most of the time, is based on much tradition. I joined the Hauk/Uppena hunting party back in 1974 when I was invited in with great enthusiasm – okay, I married in, so they had to let me hunt with them. Back in those days, we were a small group growing rapidly. My father-in-law, Walt Hauk, his brother Uncle Mose, and Uncle Charles Uppena were the leaders and elders of the group. Ellen and her brothers Dick, Tom, Mike, and Brian and her sister Barb were joined by Charles' sons Denny, Carl, and Curt Uppena and cousin Steve as well as Joe and Gordie Kremer and Frank Patzel once in awhile. My brother Del joined the group in high school. We could cover some ground with a gang like this driving. Why, I remember one year when we still had a three-day any deer season, we hung six deer on the meat pole, or rather Uncle Charles windmill! (None of them were mine.) I used to love riding over to Uncle Charles' farmhouse with Walt and my brothers-in-law on the night before for the war council. We'd talk about who had seen what so far, maybe catch up on a little family gossip over a cold one, and end with a discussion who was going where in the morning followed by when and where we would meet. Generally, the boys and I would keep pretty quiet (yes, I could be quiet sometimes) while Charles and Walt talked. We hauled our deer and hunters with two-wheel drive pickups and cut up deer in a cold pole shed. Since then things have changed some.

Sadly, in the early 1980's, Hatfield and McCoy-like, the group split along Uppena and Hauk lines. Just kidding; there is no fued – it was because, with the addition of other brothers and sisters and more “married's in” and youngsters getting old enough to tag along, the party was getting too big – and dangerous. I say sadly, because I know we all enjoyed hunting with the cousins, and it is always good to see them and catch on how their hunt went.

Anyway, the Hatfield . . . uh, Hauk side now meets at Bill (Hauk) and his wife Amy's heated shop in Burton in the Grant River valley for the war council on Friday night before the hunt. I and brother-in-law Chuck are the elders in the party, I guess, at 60 and 59 respectively. The hunt party, now semi-officially named the Burton Deer Hunters, seems to be in constant flux of growth and decline depending on the year and the day; it includes members from all over the U.S. Sometimes but mostly Wisconsin. Going from last year's list the group includes: us, El's brother Bill Hauk, Barb and Chuck Wright, their son Chris and his son Zach, and their daughter Angie, El's sister Lori Fure and her husband Dave, as well as their kids Doug, Katie, Brian and Jordan, El's brother Tom from Buckeye, AZ, nephews Nick Hauk, Jason and Jared Junk, Amy's brother Jessie Sahr, cousin Todd Reynolds, and Chris' friend Travis from Minnesota (he does pretty well with the Viking/Packer ribbing he gets), and Chad “Beanpole” Brinkman. Believe me, we can cover some brush and we hang up some deer, 19 on opening weekend in 2011 during an any deer season. Part of our tradition is driving deer, part is is partying together, part is sharing the stories, and part is the work of meat cutting and sausage making. Simply put, the tradition is getting together with family and spending days together in the field. It don't get no better.

Anyway, we will tell and make stories amuck, hunt hard, and eat like royalty this next weekend.

In an hour or so, after I finish my musings here and a few other chores, I will start carrying our deer hunting clothing and gear downstairs to make a semi-orgainized pile of his and her's so we can take stock of what we have and might “need.” El will be talking to Barb about groceries tonight and then making a trip for provisions this week. We had the Ranger serviced last week. I need to clean the detritus of nearly two months of hunting and trips to the dump yet this week, move the tractor and mower so our Iowa hunters have a place to hang deer, pack up our hunting chairs, case up the rifles, oil up boots, the list goes on.

I suppose I'd better go do something more useful than tap on a keyboard.

Until next time, get out – to all of you taking to the woods this weekend, have a great hunt, but more than that, be safe. No deer is worth hurting someone. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 8, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 8, 2012 by Greg Koelker

If you haven't been for a drive in the country (or maybe even in town), you maybe haven't seen the dead deer along the road. It is that time and they are running, literally for the next generation. I have been seeing deer from the driver's seat and from a tree stand, but I haven't killed one – either way as of yet. Still, I have a hunting story or two to share.

Last Friday night Ellen and I helped Eli Jackson get his nine pointer out of the woods. After a couple hours of shivering in the wind, I was on my way in from my stand with a hot supper and something over ice on my mind when I met Eli by his truck; he was just standing there. I stopped and then I could tell he had something to say. Actually, he was still shaking just a bit I think. He had a sheepish grin on his face and then quietly asked, “You want to help get one out tonight?” He told me how he had arrowed a nice buck near the Oak Stand and that he was pretty sure he heard it go down almost an hour and a half before. I went home and changed into jeans and hiking boots, and grabbed a light. El got me her new headlamp and a wad of rag strips for use as blood markers - should we need them. She said, “Too many feet can obliterate a blood trail,” and she decided to wait in reserve as our young friend Pat Colby and Mike, his buddy, were up on the ridge too.

Back at the truck, the boys were packing up there bows. Without fanfare we drove to the scene of the crime and started down the hill on the blood trail with Eli in the lead. He said he had found part of his arrow broken off and left it as a marker. He uses Illuminocks that light up when the arrow is fired, so he could see it glowing along the blood trail. I trailed the younger guys down through the downed trees and prickly ash, holding up Ellen's multi-lantern high for light and trying not to trip. There was a good blood trail and it took less than ten minutes to find the buck lying head down the steep hillside, “There he is,” I heard Eli say with little of the emotion I know he was feeling. The buck was a nice fat 8-pointer with high tines - a 9^th tine was broken off. After hand shakes and pictures, Pat and I each held a back leg while Eli field dressed the critter. Mike took pictures and kept the head up hill. I called Ellen and she brought the fourwheeler up a logging road that was downhill from us maybe 50 yards. I scrambled down to meet her and light the way for the boys. I also called Sikoras to see if Gregg and Jake wanted to come over and see the deer. Gregg was working, but sixth grader Jake walked over.

Back at the ranch, we washed the buck out at the hydrant and hung it up with the rope hoist in the shop; Pat held a light while Eli cut the tenderloins out. Eli and Ellen cleaned them up in the kitchen while Jake and I drove Pat and Mike in Ellen's Explorer back up to get the trucks left on the ridge. We shined at least a half-a-dozen deer on our way, including three in the field right by Jake's house.

When Jake and I walked into the kitchen, Ellen -she is way too good to us- had set out the grilled pizzas that had been on the menu for our supper – before all heck broke loose, so to speak – and she had some venison tenderloin medallions frying on the stove with mushrooms and onions and peppers. If that wasn't enough, she had baked raspberry/chocolate chip cookies that afternoon. The guys and I munched pizza and sipped celebratory libations to the hunt and hunter, before turning to plates of fried venison. They had all seen deer that night. Eli said that a doe and a much bigger buck walked by him just after he had shot his buck, and Mike said he figured he saw over a dozen deer. Pat saw one, but I got a rock, as Charlie Brown would say.

Before I drove Jake home, he said would have been in bed by then as he was going duck hunting with his dad in the morning. I said he was going to be pretty tired in the morning. He replied, “It's a small price to pay,” (to see the buck, hear the stories, and have a plate of venison!) I couldn't agree more, Jake.

The stories are what will be left when the meat is all consumed and the trophy nailed to the wall. The stories endure. Here is another story from a friend, Jeff Fischer of Middleton. He wrote me this last week and I thought I'd share it:

“42 years in the making! A lot of hard work and I am finally blessed with an opportunity to harvest a beautiful buck. Hundreds of hours in the stand, checking cameras, changing memory cards and batteries, scouting, letting the areas sit until the perfect wind, etc. Only to rush out after work last night after a meeting to sit for one hour and have this 4 year old walk straight to me down wind for a chance to harvest him.... Go figure! Just when you think you have these beautiful creatures figured out, they put you back in check and do something you thought they would never do (make himself vulnerable). I rattled and grunted him in after seeing him earlier in the night. He circled around 100 yards south of me and came straight at me from downwind, with my scent right at him. I guess a male, is a male, is a male, not thinking straight when thinking about females. Shot him at 30 yards, quartering away from me - just the whole time line of how it came together, such an awesome and blessed feeling. Lot's of pride to know my efforts and patience, along with proper scent control, etc. do actually work. He is no state record but a trophy by far for me. He rough scored mid 140's, 10 pointer, 4 year old. What a great day. I have him on camera, full velvet in August and no pictures since. Good luck in the tree and most importantly... be safe and take it all in with full enjoyment. We are only here for a very short period of time. What a blessing we have to be able to enjoy bow hunting. As my good friend Koelkie says... get out and enjoy the outdoors! Fisch”

Do you think Jeff was excited when he wrote this? Congrats on the buck and thanks for the great write up.

With stories still in mind, Ellen had a surprise visitor last week. It seems that our old friend Larry Oldenburg from Chaseburg read my plea for hickory nuts last week, so he called and offered to bring some over. He and El visited over coffee and cookies for nearly two hours. Larry and his late wife, Doris – who grew up in our house – used to come and visit and members of their family have stopped over the years. Larry told Ellen he had sighted in his rifle and was going deer hunting this season. When he was leaving, Larry said, “I have a birthday coming up. December 7^th, Pearl Harbor Day.” El asked him the big question, “I'll be 92.” If you see Larry tell him good hunting and if it's in December wish him happy birthday and ask him about his deer hunt.

I took my own advice last week and “shot” my deer rifle. That is, four misfires later, I put the bolt in some cleaner and then re-lubricated it and after another misfire, the next three rounds fired. It was off to the Bad Axe and gunsmith Ron Stokke. For future reference, Ron showed me how to take apart my rifle bolt and clean it. He told me he put a new spring in it that should make it work better. He cleaned both of our rifles, so we should be good come November 17 – the Big One is upon us – only a week away! Time to take inventory, buy the license, get to the grocery store, and service the truck.

Until next time, get out –This year, why not get a journal and start recording the details of your hunt? Who was there, who got what, what were the stories told, maybe the best joke or prank, the food, the cost, etc. You and your kids and grandkids will appreciate it. After the Packers victory over the Cardinals, Scout, Ellen and I took a load of spent pumpkins up to the food plot and took a long walk around our ridge top. There is a lot of deer and turkey sign, but not much left for them to eat. We had a great visit and some well-needed exercise. Enjoy.

Eli's Buck November 2, 2012

Eli's 9-pointer 

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Me, Pat, and Eli 

El holds the lantern for the boys

Cutting out the tenderloins in the shop

Check out the Romance, Wisconsin Site

Jane and Ellen by the fire on an October Sunday night.

Our friend Jane Downs and Ellen enjoying the fire by our home on Grouse Hollow Farm.

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 1, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Grouse Hollow Journal for November 1, 2012 by Greg Koelker

TGIF!  Thank goodness it's Friday!  It's casual Friday!  Freaky Friday!  Have a funky Friday!  Heck, yeah! It's Friday! Enjoy your Friday!  Woo hoo!  It's Friday! It's Friday; I'm prepared, are you? It's finally Friday!  Okay, okay, enough Friday joy, but I had last Friday off, so . . . after some morning coffee and a quick look through the paper, El and I and Scout loaded up the truck and drove into the sun on our way to Westby for breakfast at Borgens Cafe.  We visited over coffee with our waitress, Mary who was incredibly cheerful and friendly for that time of the morning.  We had the breakfast special: eggs any way you want 'em, toast or English muffin, hashbrowns, and bacon or sausage.  El had toast and bacon, while I had an English muffin and sausage patties.  Good stuff.  El wrapped part of her bacon up in a napkin for treats for our unhappy friend back in the truck.  

From there we drove up Highway 27 to County P and through hills and coulees to the Kickapoo Reserve Visitor Center.  There were groups of children and adults in the classroom and others chatting outside, getting ready for what I would guess was a nature hike.  We had a short visit with another incredibly friendly person at the counter to get a set of pheasant stamps just in case some pheasant or other that Scout flushed would blunder in front of my Browning .12 gauge long enough for me to shoot.  She said there were lots of birds out there today.  The DNR stocks the reserve with pen raised pheasant on a regular basis, and there were empty pheasant cages outside the building, so you'd think that things were looking pretty good.  

We drove west on P back to a couple of areas that didn't appear to have many hunters in them when we passed them on our way in.  We were getting our hunting boots on at the back of the pickup that was parked alongside a picked corn field when a man and woman with two dark brown pointers wearing orange protective vests came down one of the cutover paths towards us.  Scout wanted to go make friends, but she obeyed and stayed with us.  Shortly, we were hunting.  

Scout busted brush and El and I followed through the thick stuff that separates the marsh and river from a long field of corn stubble.  I had my over-under shotgun and El had her camera.  Scout is no dummy; if we walked in the cornfield - for the easier going, so did she unless something attracted her back into the thickets.  We trudged through willows and over downed box elder trunks.  Near the end of the field, Scout took a dip in the river.  I saw it coming as she found a spot that wasn't too steep and over she went into cold, chest deep (for her) water.  She splashed about a bit and took a long drink and was back on the hunt.  We didn't see any birds.  At the end of this walk we crossed the road and walked deep into a field of unpicked corn.  There was a row wide enough for El and I to walk through and Scout, AKA corn dog, had a ball racing up the rows and noisily circling around us.  One time Ellen remarked, "It sounds like the army coming."  I was thinking more like a herd of buffalo, but you get the idea.  We must have covered well over a quarter of a mile in that corn, but no birds flew.  The weed growth underneath is so thick that I don't think a pheasant could have run ahead of us, but who knows.  Back at the pickup, I poured water out of a milk jug for a very thirsty dog who prefers to lap at the water as it pours out of the bottle over lapping it up from a bowl.  

We eventually tried another spot on the far eastern end of the reserve that Scout and I have hunted before and flushed a couple birds.  Ellen got some nice video of me and Scout hunting the edge of another picked cornfield, but no birds wanted to star in the film I guess.  Scout did do what most dogs will do when presented with the opportunity; she rolled in some nasty stuff, a pile of fairly green deer manure left by a whitetail with stomach issues.  Scout managed to get the buckles of her collar packed with the stuff.  Usually, one hears some shooting at the preserve, but we never heard a shot from anyone by us this day.  Perhaps the birds took advantage of the huge unpicked cornfields to feed and hide in by the time we got out there.  

Anyway, on the way home we stopped at the Valley Market in Coon Valley to see if they might have any hickory nuts for sale.  Ellen wants to make a hickory nut cake for a friend and our hickory trees didn't make any or at least very few nuts this year.  Anyway, the market had all kinds of nuts for sale, but not hickory nuts.  They also have row upon row of great stuff like milk chocolate covered cherries, and homemade jams and jellies, and - well, I could have spent a couple hundred bucks there on treats and such.  Anyway, if you or someone you know has some hickory nuts for sale, call us or drop us a line.  

Back at the ranch, we took advantage of the beautiful day and rode the four-wheeler loaded with a chain saw up the ridge to clear a path.  El summed it up by saying the ride was definitely "refreshing."  I thought it was doggoned cold myself.  Anyway, after moving the downed elm, I felt that the saw was working so well, I decided to clear up another path along the bottom of the hill.  The multiflora rose is getting so bad.  We cut overhanging tree tops, some dead trees, and multiflora rose from the path and cleared an opening through the fence in the middle of the woods before heading home.  On the way in, I said over my shoulder to my better-half, "This was kind of fun."  Ellen agreed and said something about clearing up some more trails and woods.  To quote my soul buddy Dagwood Bumstead in the funny papers, "Oh my.  That took a nasty little  turn."  (On Saturday morning, I drove back down that path with the Ford and the brush hog to really spruce things up.)   

El was fixing me a sandwich when our young friend Eli Jackson pulled in from hunting all morning.  He said he had gotten pretty cold, but that he had seen a "wallhanger."  It ran past him and stopped too far away.  He got it to respond to a grunt call, but then it absconded.  He was pretty pumped about being that close to a big critter.  Eli had picked up some of his deer cam cards and we loaded them up on the computer.  He has some fun video of a small buck standing on its back legs to work a mock scrape near what we call the Christmas Tree plot.  While we were checking out the pictures, El thin sliced some grilled, bacon wrapped venison chops and warmed them up in a frying pan, sliced some French bread and toasted it, and then served the meat with cheddar cheese melting over it with some 57 Sauce on the side.  Um,um; it don't git no better.   

That afternoon, I took my time getting up to take a stand in the Grouse Hollow.  My tree stand there is broken down from a fallen oak tree, so I sat on a chair in a blow down brush pile.  Around 5:30 I saw that little buck meandering his way up out of the woods. I got a little excited.  If there is one . . . anyway, it walked along the ridge above me, taking its time to check the wind and browse a bit before it disappeared through the gate.  I was about to try to stalk up near where it had been when I noticed a doe just twenty yards from me, browsing her way through the pasture.  She eventually got too far away, so I got out my camera and video taped her until she jumped the fence into the hayfield beyond.   Then I moved.  I had gone maybe fifteen yards and was about to take a step when another doe came running through the field and jumped the fence right in front of me and stopped close enough for an easy shot.  I had my bow up starting to draw back when I realized that it was looking back over its body at something chasing her.  It clicked that that something was most likely a love struck buck, so I waited.  The doe finally looked at me and then back again and started walking away.  It finally flipped its tail and took off into the woods down the hollow.  I heard it blow a warning once.  No buck ever appeared - rats.  I called it quits after that and headed in.  No deer tagged but great excitement and fun.  Ya gotta like it.

We ended the day with football on the radio and hors d'oeuvres and cocktails and a nap on the couch.  Now that's what I call a good Friday.

Until next time, get out - On Sunday evening, Ellen and I and our friend Jane Downs were enjoying cocktails by a bonfire, when Eli called from up on the ridge.  He was pretty pumped up; He said he just stuck a big ten-pointer from his tent by the downed barn.  He had two decoys out and the buck came in before 6:00.  When Eli left the tent to walk to his truck, he saw seven other deer in the fields.  El and a buddy of Eli's  are going to go tracking in the morning.  More on this next week.  This is pretty anti-climatic, but I still haven't tried to hunt a wild turkey this fall; Ellen has a gift certificate good for a free preparation and smoking of a turkey at a Holmen Meat locker - so . . . so much to do, so little time. . .Enjoy.