Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Grouse Hollow Journal for October 23, 2014 by Greg Koelker




This last week Ellen and I took advantage of a fine October afternoon and went fishing up on Lake Onalaska. There was a breeze, but the fall sky was mostly clear with only stray fast moving clouds. The trees along the river valley are passing their prime for fall color, but still in the sunlight, they made for the perfect background. We put in at Shafer's without incident and tried a couple places we have caught fish before. We had plenty of company, so because the action in our boat was pretty slow, I scanned our neighbors. One fellow off by himself was regularly setting the hook and reeling in fish, only to toss them back. We pulled up anchor and moved into the general area he was anchored in. We immediately started catching mostly small sunfish. The action was enough to keep us interested and use up some bait, but in the end, I cleaned only four decent fish.

On Saturday, we worked on tree stands. We took along a ladder and some tools and Scout. Up on the ridge, I have a stand that keeps coming apart, that is the tree is growing so fast that it pulls the seat up with it, causing the ladder to loosen at the joints, which as you might imagine, is not good. Ben and his friend Drew put the stand there for me in 2009, but the whitetails don't seem to use the area much, so we moved it. After finding a tree where there appears to be two deer trails going by, we had to lean the 15' high stand up against the tree and level the base with a shovel. We added a middle brace that is supposed to keep the ladder from buckling, then I used the regular ladder to climb up on the back side of the tree and attach a ratchet strap to the stand and crank it up tight. I climbed the stand and directed Ellen as she cranked her geared Fiskars shears, lopping off small trees and branches to clear some shooting lanes. After that, we drove down the old farm ridge road to place a brand new stand on the Grouse Hollow path. We heard the noon whistle down in Stoddard as we scouted out a spot. There are two well-used deer trails crossing the path and we chose to place this stand against an old oak that grows between the trails. It was frustrating at first, because the earth around the tree is thick and soft and whenever I climbed up the ladder, the whole affair sank down a foot, causing the platform seat to hang up on a football sized knob on the tree. After some brainstorming, Ellen had a brilliant idea. “Do you want to go down to the Turtle for a burger and fries?” My answer is always yes to that question. I called in our order and we made our way down to Stoddard. The place was busy, but if you haven't had a cheese burger and fries at the Thirsty Turtle, I recommend it.

After lunch, I did some hacksaw work on an extension to the tree stand ladder and we took the four-wheeler and trailer up the path. The entire time we had been in the woods this day, we could hear ruffed grouse drumming. (You may not even know you're hearing a grouse drum; it sounds like a small engine firing, first putting and then revving up to full throttle before stopping - over and over again) Ellen mentioned it would be nice to see one of those grouse, and as if by magic, she whispered for me to stop and look. She had grabbed Scout by the collar and was looking intently down the hill from us. I followed her gaze and was able to make out a ruffed grouse gingerly making its way through the brush right toward us. I asked Ellen for her phone so I could try to photograph it. The bird came up to within 10 feet of us. Scout was having none of this and was struggling with Ellen to get after the bird. I switched the camera to video and told El to let 'er buck. Scout crashed down the hill after the bird; old ruff reluctantly took wing and flew off only twenty yards or so. It kept Scout out from under foot for a while. We wonder what berries it might have fermenting in its crop. When we got finished with the patridge pause and tightened up the stand, we took the four-wheeler up the path to retrieve some firewood that we had cut while clearing some downed birch and oak trees. It will be put to good use in the fire pit this fall yet.

Back at the ranch it was time to go to the dump. As I was leaving, Ben called from Colorado. He has several rifle tags and is hunting elk and deer now. He said he had seen maybe 50 elk that morning and at least 40 mule deer, but no big bucks and all he has is a buck tag.

Anyway, after I got back from the dump, I needed a nap, so I went bow hunting along the Corner woods. The sunset was behind my left shoulder and the oak leaves around were brilliant yellow. There was a light breeze and no bugs. The woods was busy with squirrels, chipmunks, birds, and mice all scratching through the hardwood detritus to find acorns or whatever. I had to get down and walk around after less than an hour in the stand as my restless leg got, well restless. I watched the sunset over the Minnesota bluffs turn from pink to orange to a fiery red as I walked back to the truck and home.

Back at the ranch, the kitchen was one of those memories you want to store away; it was warm, and the aromas of roasted meat and baking squash and apples were thick on the air. My wife wanted to hear about my hunt and shared that our old friend Mark Wadium was up in the field trying to call in a coyote. The dinner, salad, boneless ribs, baked squash and potato topped off with hot apple crisp, was frosting on a great day that ended with a nap in front of the fire and a college football game.

Ben texted us a picture on Sunday with the byline, “Got him!” He attached a shot of him holding up the antlers of a huge mule deer buck. I haven't heard the story yet, but I could tell by his smile that it will be a good one. Oh, I got the text while I was pheasant hunting near Millston and I was able to share the picture with my friends. More on that next time.

Until next time, get out - mountain kids, Mark and Whitney are in Nepal this week - yeah, that Nepal with Mt. Everest. We got an email that they had arrived in Katmandu on Tuesday evening and were picked up by the principal of a school which may be a future destination for the Children's Global Alliance. This last week, Nepal headlines were full of horror stories about avalanches killing trekkers in the Annapurna National Preserve after a freak blizzard caught hundreds off guard. Annapurna is where the kids plan to go trekking for a few days. Mark posted a couple photos of long, high mountain ranges, blue in the early morning on Facebook Saturday morning. He wrote this comment, “Namaste (a form of greeting in Nepali) from breakfast in Nepal - thank you for all of the thoughts and concerns.  Whitney and I are loving this area of the world, but our hearts go out to all of those lost in the tragic Annapurna weather last week.” The pictures he posted were amazing, and to those who asked, neither of them work for the Travel Channel, but I think they maybe should. Enjoy.



Sunday, October 19, 2014

Grouse Hollow Journal for October 16, 2014 by Greg Koelker


Grouse Hollow in October
Grouse Hollow Journal for October 16, 2014 by Greg Koelker

There is something about a pumpkin. Those sweet squash represent October and the advent of fall in its full orange glory. They herald something really special when one walks into a warm kitchen with the spicy sweet aroma of pumpkin pie and desserts baking. Of course there will be the silly, sad Charlie Brown special about the Great Pumpkin on TV next week. I can take or leave Halloween as a holiday, but it used to fun to dress up like a hobo and go house to house, extorting treats in exchange for no tricks one night of the year.

Our mountain man, Benjamin was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 18 months old, so by the time he was trick or treatin' age, we had to figure something out. What Ellen came up with was that I would buy his candy from him to fill our lunch boxes during gun deer season. It worked out well for both of us. The boys and I would go up the coulee visiting the neighbors, the kids getting candy and dad getting an adult beverage. By the time we got home, we were all happy. Hmmm, I guess I do kind of like Halloween.

I used to like to carve pumpkins. In high school I started carving fancy, scary faces into pumpkins beyond the usual triangle eyes, nose, and teeth in art class and for my home. By college, I got into getting a huge pumpkin and carving wild eyes with long jagged noses and Big Daddy Rat teeth and tongues - it was great for party decoration. Ellen and I grew those huge pumpkin-like squash for some years in our garden. Mac the Singing Jeweler came out a couple times to do his Halloween commercial in our pumpkin patch with my little ghoulies peeking out behind the nearly 3 foot tall orbs. We also have a picture of Mark standing in a huge jack-o-lantern on our old porch just able to peek out. (We had to have Emmet Clements haul those big suckers up to the house with his tractor and bucket!)

Anyway, I read recently that we carve pumpkins at Halloween to ward of evil spirits. With the election upon us in its full fury of opponent bashing, hyperbole, number obfuscation, dissembling, and bragging, I just might need to get out my carving tools again. (I wonder if it would help to put up a ring of jack-o-lanterns around the capital building in Madison?)


Until next time, get out - we had a campfire in our fire pit Saturday evening. I used some dried leaves as tinder and the pile of yard waste pine limbs and needles merrily sprang to life, the sweet aroma of pine smoke drifting up the coulee. I conjured up some adult beverages, and Ellen brought out some cheese and almonds. Scout doesn't much like the fire, but she does love cheese, so she finally crowded in between our chairs. It was clear and cool as the sun retreated into the bluff top with no wind. We sat and talked quietly and tortured the dog with petting and a piece of cheese or two. At nearly full dusk, we could hear a four-wheeler coming down the hill. It was Gregg and Jake Sikora out on the youth gun hunt. They joined us at the fire and shared the story of the hunt. Gregg called his wife, Cindy and she and daughter Pearl came over too. We visited while the fire crackled. Ellen made the kids hot chocolate, and we caught up the neighbors as a nearly full moon rose overhead. We have to do this more often. Finally, how about them Packers? Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for October 9, 2014 by Greg Koelker

Grouse Hollow Journal for October 9, 2014 by Greg Koelker

This past Sunday Ellen's family celebrated the umpteenth anniversary of the Squirrel Picnic. When I first attended back in the early '70's, it was held at what was called Hauk's Campgrounds down in hollow south of Cassville. There was a shelter and some horse shoe pits and a creek for the kids to play in and by. Since then the picnic moved up the ridge to her brother Dick's pole shed and then to Barb and Chuck's pole shed and now in their back yard and into the basement man cave of their new home. With all the talk of violence in sports lately, it is worth mentioning that the Squirrel Picnic football game was often pretty violent, drawing blood and heated arguments about “holding” or “off sides” on a number of occasions. I remember a particularly bad incident - that comes up in the guys' memories every picnic - when brother-in- law Dave Junk and cousin Steve Uppena had a nasty crash into a barbed wire topped woven wire fence. All I can say is that they lived to tell about it and Dave hung on to the ball. I know that I missed work on at least five Mondays after Squirrel Picnic football games in the 70's and 80's, mostly due back injuries. Cousin Steve Pluemer played quarterback in his stocking feet back then. On this day, he and I and brother-in-law Dave Fure joined in the touch football game with the young uns and a few 20 something nephews. I am proud to say that I can still hold with the best of them. For some years, we played volleyball, but this year the grid iron was. Ellen's Uncle Jerome “Peck” Hauk also attended. He is 97 and drove himself down to Potosi from Fennimore! He has been to a great many Squirrel Picnics in his time and lots of memories to share. This year, he sat with his nieces and nephews in the basement going over old newspaper clippings and pictures, telling the stories of the people in them. Peck recently went to Washington, DC on the Freedom Honor Flight out of Madison. He wasn't going to go as he has been all over Washington, but he said it was awesome. A real experience that made him feel the (well deserved) appreciation we have for our vets. Like other years, the girls out did themselves, and we had a meal fit for rednecks and royalty complete casseroles, venison wraps, dips and chips, bar-b-cue beans, squash, apple pies, apple pie bars (to die for), brownies, Ellen's Reeses stuffed cookies . . . I could go on, but I have to leave room for the squirrel.

Chuck woke me up at early-thirty on Sunday morning and we took out coffee cups down to Burton and brother Bill Hauk's garage where the cooking oil was already getting hot in Bill's big fryer. Brother-in-law Dave Fure, was dredging squirrel parts in a secret mixture (that I think is mostly seasoned Fry Magic). Chuck cut up some red onions and I told jokes. Bill started putting squirrel pieces in the hot oil and took up a tongs to help turn them and grab out the browned ones. Someone place a roaster pan next to us and Dave and I began putting a layer of almost crisp on the outside tree rat pieces followed by a layer of onions and another secret mix that includes cream of mushroom soup. When the forty plus bush tails were all brown and covered in the roaster, they were sent to bake at 350 for a couple hours and than simmer at 200 until dinner time. Jesse Sahr, Bill's brother-in-law and one of the Burton Deer Hunters, showed up with his family. He said he hadn't slept all night. He arrowed a large buck the night before and backed off of tracking until this morning. When the squirrel was finished, he and Bill and Dave and Jesse's wife Hillary went to find the buck near the Bench where Ellen and I go on opening morning - curses.

Anyway, Chuck had a plan. Ellen was helping Barb with chores when we got back to their place, so he and I did our part by staying out of their way by going fishing down on the Grant River. I have to say I have rarely wished I had a camera handy more than I did that morning. We drove down in a hollow surrounded by steadily blooming fall colors accented with frost and a slowly rising fog. Chuck turned off the gravel onto a farm road and we bounced along until he turned into some tall nettles and horse weeds and parked by the Grant. He gave me a pole with jig and twister tail and a bag of more twisters, and we trudged along a pretty well worn path that he said he had beaten down while fishing for small mouths. At the river, we casted and reeled to no avail but the sunrise was, what can I say? Breath taking does it I guess. The river came around a bend to my left, carrying fall leaves. It broke over some riffles to my right, sparking and flashing from sun beams just starting to cut through a low hanging mist, until the river split around an island. I could see my breath and there was not a sound except for the water. I drew in some long breaths of cold, clean, sweet air that may only be found on streams at this time of the day. We tried a couple of spots, but it didn't matter to me. Just being there made me grateful to Chuck and Ma Nature.


Until next time, get out - bow hunters remember that there is a youth gun deer hunt this next week and blaze orange may be required by hunters in some areas. Speaking of hunting, Hillary found Jesse's buck, a massive 12-pointer with split G2's down in a corn row. Jesse's grin could have blinded the cheshire cat I think. I almost forget to mention the squirrel. The aroma coming from the steaming roaster at dinner was almost enough in itself. The meat fell off the bone into the gravy. I took an entire plate of just that to begin with - several others did too - of course, I had plate of desserts first. We all know there is nothing we can do about the impending winter, but we all can be grateful for October and all it entails. Enjoy.
Chuck, Ellen, Uncle Jerome, and Barb

Sue, Bill, Steve, and Uncle Peck


Brian brings in more goodies from the north country.

Just some of the good stuff at the Squirrel Picnic 2014