As the muggy dog days of August slowly slip away, hunters breathing the first hint of fresh fall-like winds welcome September’s arrival with open arms, freshly oiled boots, tuned up guns and for some hunts, our most eager companions… Loyal hunting dogs.
Seasons for one of the biggest and smallest of our game birds — Canada geese and mourning doves — open first, followed by grouse, ducks, turkeys and pheasants. About the same time, archers head afield for early bow deer seasons.
Meanwhile, black bear numbers are up and expanding, as are hunting opportunities for young and old alike. Mixed reports tantalize and frustrate hunters arranging their fall agendas.
No secret that many waterfowl hunters are excited over prospects in the eastern Dakotas, where abundant precipitation has prairie ponds full to the brim and more. Summer visitors report seeing large flocks of assorted ducks everywhere in the eastern Dakotas.
Pheasant productivity has been very good in South Dakota, fair in North Dakota, average or slightly better in Minnesota and Wisconsin, and down in Iowa except for the northwest region.
Deer hunters can expect slightly lower anterless quotas over much of the Midwest. In my travels, I’ve been seeing quite a few road kill whitetails, seemingly more than past summers.
Also, I’ve heard lots of encounters with bear killing fawns. All in all, the season of “much walking” is at hand. I have some trips lined up for Wisconsin, the Dakotas, Minnesota and Wyoming for everything from game birds to elk (it will be my first elk hunt, a cow tag in Wyoming!).
Once again this fall, I, our yopuths will have special early hunts for bear, waterfowl, deer and small game (would be nice to start over, right?) here’s wishing all your aspirations and new ones you discover in days to come are enjoyable, rewarding and fun!
If you’re so inclined, send us your stories and photos, and any suggestions you might have for a future “Northland Adventures.”
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This post was written by dcarlson on August 25, 2010
I’m going to try this this way. see what happens.
The Hunter
As I walk through these woods
The silence of nature prevades my senses.
Filling my eyes and ears of a time
when there were no fences.
The chitter of a squirrel as I come to near. The screech of a blue jay claming no fear.
Mingling with nature and feeling as one,
From early morning, till the setting of the sun.
As I walk through these woods the ageless beauty shrugs away my years, adding a spring to my step,
Strengthing my prowess in tracking a deer.
The scampering of a field mouse beneath my feet, A startled owltaking flight as we meet.
The sight; the sound of a meadow lark,
The touch; the feel of an old tree’s bark.
As I walk through these woods, It’s always the same, be it survival of the fittest, or, God given right, That big prize buck comes within range,
Then slowly ambles out of sight.
The skip of a heartbeat; the draw of my bow,
Just as it was then, Now too, it is so.
The hunter taking only his needs, as once again I walk through these trees!!