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Chuck Robbins-Outdoors


November 2009

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Newsflash: I've decided to switch gears a bit and move Chuck Robbins-Outdoors to blogger.com...go to http://chuckrobbins-outdoors.blogspot.com and let me know how you like it and any suggestions you might have how I might improve it...thanks and I look forward to hearing from you soon...over and out...Chuck

Shawn Nicewonger's shot this mule deer buck...

...recently in Wyoming, his first muley buck by the way. Shawn worked for me several summers when I was river-keeper for the venerable Spruce Creek Rod and Gun Club in central Pennsylvania. Besides trout we had wonderful whitetail and turkey hunting both on the property and the surrounding area and I "guided" Shawn to several exciting spring gobbler hunts...at least I considered them so. Anyway I too shot my first mule deer buck in Wyoming although so many moons have risen and set since I have to think hard to recall even the high points. In the 40 or seasons since I was lucky enough to have tagged more than a fair share whitetails and muleys. But of late the kills have been few and way too far between. To put it bluntly I've become a pretty sorry deer hunter. OK make that big game hunter period. Last season I hunted deer only sporadically, didn't snap a cap although I did have ample opportunities to at least collect enough venison to last the winter for whatever reasons instead I passed. Elk hunting? So pathetic I'd rather not talk about it. The why of all this is rather curious since I'm sure not looking for horns and both Gale and me prefer venison to beef.

Anyway this season I vowed to "fill all my tags" come hell or high water. Well I ain't in hell and no floods either so... With archery antelope, deer A & B tags, and elk A tag the freezer is brim full and about to burst...WRONG! With archery antelope season now history just 6 days remaining of rifle big game season, so far nada...Not one arrow or snapped cap have I fired...Like I said, sorry. So up against the wall, so to speak, yesterday afternoon I headed for a "can't miss" spot hoping to tag a mule deer buck (only antlered bucks are legal and the only B tag I own is a whitetail), any buck, the smaller and younger and more tender the better. And for the first time ever in that country, you guessed it, not a hair did I find, let alone the tasty fork horn I was hoping to tag. So the hunt continues and I will go out again to a different spot this afternoon, hopefully post a far better report tomorrow... But if your a mind please do wish me luck, I'm bettin' I'll need it...

 

Wildlife populations ebb and flow...

...for a variety of reasons, none so important as quality habitat and lots of it. No program in history has done more for landscape-level conservation of soil, water and wildlife habitat on farmland while offering producers a significant and stable source of income than CRP. Since its inception in 1985 and subsequent reauthorization in the 1990, 1996 and 2002 Farm Bills hunting CRP has measurably affected wildlife populations and habitat, especially beneficial to upland birds such as Huns, pheasants and sharp-tailed grouse and waterfowl, to the tune of nearly 40 million acres. For instance:

• During 1992-1997, nest success of five common duck species were 46 percent higher with CRP on the landscape in the Prairie Pothole Region (PPR) of North Dakota, South Dakota and Montana compared to a simulated scenario where existing CRP was replaced with cropland (Reynolds et al. 2001). This study concluded that an additional 12.4 million recruits were added to the waterfowl fall flight as a result of CRP from 1992-1997.

• During 1990-1994, nest success of female pheasants in north central Iowa was 40 percent higher in large blocks of CRP than in smaller fragmented nesting cover types like roadsides and fence lines (Clark and Bogenschutz 1999). When CRP acreage was enrolled in large fields, pheasant populations were 53 percent greater compared to no CRP (Clark and Bogenschutz 2001).

• Based on densities of 12 grassland songbird species in CRP fields compared to adjacent croplands, Johnson et al (1995) predicted that populations of at least five of these species would decline statewide in North Dakota by 17 percent or more if CRP was greatly reduced on the state’s landscape.

As I might have mentioned in a previous post, on our recent Hi-Line hunt for several days running we found Huns, sharpies and roosters in the same patch, the same day...something we've done many times in many different CRP plots over the past decade or so. But now all this is if not about to end at least in jeopardy. Over the next three years many contracts are due to expire and with increased demand for crops such as corn and wheat many millions of acres stand to be converted. Montana alone stands to lose over 1 million acres of the 3.2 million acres currently enrolled. Unless someway can be found to turn things around obviously much of what has been gained will be lost and notwithstanding the negative effect on hunter fortunes many species of wildlife, game and non-game, will suffer even more. As hunters and concerned wildlife lovers we need to lend support to such organizations as DU, Pheasants Forever, Quail Unlimited and others. Perhaps more importantly let your congressmen know such cuts are not acceptable. I've never been much interested in dealing with crooked, self-serving politicians since they usually do whatever the hell is best for their bottom line but this one is just too important to ignore. Maybe if enough of us take off the gloves the bastards just might be forced to listen up just this once...and what a party that might start, eh?

 

Scandia Lutheran Church, built in 1926, stands literally in the middle of nowhere south of Malta, MT.

Sunset, Nelson Reservoir, east of Malta, MT.

We go there to hunt birds but stumbling across historic buildings such as this old church and the many others scattered hither and yon across the lonely prairie are high on our list of why-fors also. And while sunset scenes such as this one can and do occur nearly anywhere they seem to show up frequently across the eastern two-thirds Big Sky Country...How can you beat witnessing a cool scene such as this one...note the waterfowl sort of left of center which to us adds immensely to the moment. Especially nifty since both shots put the finishing touch on a fun-filled hunting day. As an aside to the church shot: Gale had already taken a few shots and we were sitting in the truck dodging the ever-present wind munching down peanut butter/jelly/cheese sandwiches when I noticed something didn't quite fit to the right of the sign. Closer inspection (though not too close) revealed a skunk in a live-trap...Obviously this is one congregation doesn't quite buy the idea "Welcome to ALL God's Children" lock, stock and barrel. OK, OK...just kidding.

Pheasants were numerous but...

...tough; tough to corral, tougher yet for this ol' boy to gun down. Over the many years I've been a bird hunter I've experienced more than my share of shooting slumps but...but none I can recall much worse than the pathetic slump I endured last week. It pains me to admit but I missed 9 pretty much cake longtail shots before finally...finally dropping this one. Yeow! Hopefully tis not yet another grim sign of sliding down the far side way too fast for comfort. Oh well, at least didn't get skunked and as you can see Annie doesn't seem to hold it agin me...nah, that look really isn't laughing out loud...really. We camped at Nelson Reservoir near Malta and hunted a wide swath in every direction. Contrary to post trip predictions of dire prospects by biologists, refuge managers and others we found plenty of birds, lots of roosters, sharpies galore and a few Huns to boot. The weather held all week, actually about as perfect bird hunting weather as you can hope for...The view from camp was about as good as it gets too, scenic lake, magnificent sunsets, nifty sunrises, waterfowl every direction and hardly a soul save us around. Gale as usual provided nightly feasts, a couple gourmet lunches while yours truly did his best bartender rendition...icy Kentucky bourbons and plentiful red wine, enough at least to keep the angry spirits at bay. All in all yet another good road trip, even the Sisters came home grinning, albeit somewhat foot sore and tired puppies.

Prairie dawns such as this one Gale shot somewhere north and west of...

...are one of the best reasons I know for running bird dogs, chasing upland birds. Even at dawn up here where the endless horizon flattens such it's easy to imagine walking way out there and suddenly tumbling over the edge of the planet it is seldom still...wind it seems is a constant, a sort of prerequisite to the prairie itself. Even those rare dawns start out dead calm more often than not the hunt ends in howling wind. Wind so ferocious it has sent us packing for shelter, any sheltered spot even a slight depression, the fear being the wind might actually topple the 'bird huntin' haus', end our huntin' days forever. Don't laugh a few years ago we got up in the middle of the night hopped in the truck and fled to Augusta the nearest town, fearing it would be the last we saw of the trailer right side up...that night a few miles away the wind blew such it toppled two empty train cars on a siding near Essex...true story. While I harbor no illusions our bird hunting the vast eastern Montana prairie will last forever, I damn sure know also that until we get too feeble (hopefully yet a ways down the road) we WILL be out there every chance...Empty places, prairies, mountains, rivers, whatever, have a way of wrapping themselves around your head, sort of stealing their way into your very soul they do until you can hardly stand to be away...

November, bright, high blue, cloudless sky, 17 degree dawn...

...seemed to us an unlikely match for good fishing. Tossing streamers? Hah, forget it, but...That's what Al and me did and guess what the trout jumped all over 'em. Yes, we missed far more than we hooked but still put a fair number in the net; for the conditions way more than expected...like how good is that? Pretty damn good way to wile away a chilly November afternoon I'd say; an idea I'm pretty sure Al would second in a heartbeat. We put Al's raft in at Dewey around noon and took out around 3:30 at Greenwood. With much of the river already in deep shadow and the once bright cheerful warm sun now partially hidden by high clouds we both agreed a mite too chilly and high time to call a halt...Of course all the while despite numb fingers and stinging toes talking of a possible repeat later in the week...stay tuned.