Comments on: Fishing the Salt on 11/18/06 http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/ You Shoulda Been Here Yesterday! Thu, 04 Dec 2008 20:21:00 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.6.2 By: Brian Cowden http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/#comment-14 Brian Cowden Wed, 29 Nov 2006 14:29:37 +0000 http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/#comment-14 Turns out that targets were the only things I got to shoot, other than some grouse on Saturday during small game hunting. PA has really decimated its deer herd in the northcentral part of the state where our hunting camp is located. I am only seeing about 1/4 of the deer I used to see before the state opened up their doe hunting to such a large degree. While the buck to doe ratio has greatly improved, we are still not seeing the larger, older bucks that PA told us we would. Some of the locals near our camp claim that poaching of the larger bucks has reached near epidemic proportions. Guess I have to hunt NJ more since we now have all the deer! Turns out that targets were the only things I got to shoot, other than some grouse on Saturday during small game hunting. PA has really decimated its deer herd in the northcentral part of the state where our hunting camp is located. I am only seeing about 1/4 of the deer I used to see before the state opened up their doe hunting to such a large degree. While the buck to doe ratio has greatly improved, we are still not seeing the larger, older bucks that PA told us we would. Some of the locals near our camp claim that poaching of the larger bucks has reached near epidemic proportions. Guess I have to hunt NJ more since we now have all the deer!

]]> By: Brian Cowden http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/#comment-13 Brian Cowden Thu, 23 Nov 2006 22:28:49 +0000 http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/#comment-13 Next time, place the crosshairs right behind the front shoulder, take in a breath, exhale about half of that breath, hold it, and gently squeeze off the trigger. Then call me and remind me to bring along a sharp knife... Sarah and I watched a nice 8 pointer mount a doe on Monday afternoon in our backyard. "Daddy, what's that buck doing to that doe???" Out of the mouths of babes... Next time, place the crosshairs right behind the front shoulder, take in a breath, exhale about half of that breath, hold it, and gently squeeze off the trigger. Then call me and remind me to bring along a sharp knife…

Sarah and I watched a nice 8 pointer mount a doe on Monday afternoon in our backyard. “Daddy, what’s that buck doing to that doe???” Out of the mouths of babes…

]]> By: Bob Sutton http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/#comment-12 Bob Sutton Tue, 21 Nov 2006 23:13:30 +0000 http://www.troutlouts.com/2006/11/21/fishing-the-salt-on-111806/#comment-12 Sure you wouldn't rather stay home and help harvest my back yard? Yesterday, I walked out of the garage to see the biggest freakin' buck I've ever seen in Pea-stone. He was only a six-pointer rack-wise, but he had shoulders on him like a linebacker and stood his ground ferociously, staring me down like I was another stupid woodland chipmunk. I remember most of all his face. It was long and strong, with unflinching eyes and ears that had no time for equivocation or flight. He gazed back at me with that regal composure that begs a clean shot and a ceremonial flask, a real throw-back deer in a place full of small, brown yard-rats. Our local whitetails scarcely deserve the occasional harrassment Raleigh and I provide with pellet pistols, but this buck made me wonder how much trouble a suburban homeowner might incur for hunting without a license. I watched him walk across the cul-de-sac and into my neighbor's backyard, calculating the distance to my rifles. Any one of my little brothers would have harvested this guy and asked for permission later. Sure you wouldn’t rather stay home and help harvest my back yard? Yesterday, I walked out of the garage to see the biggest freakin’ buck I’ve ever seen in Pea-stone. He was only a six-pointer rack-wise, but he had shoulders on him like a linebacker and stood his ground ferociously, staring me down like I was another stupid woodland chipmunk. I remember most of all his face. It was long and strong, with unflinching eyes and ears that had no time for equivocation or flight. He gazed back at me with that regal composure that begs a clean shot and a ceremonial flask, a real throw-back deer in a place full of small, brown yard-rats.

Our local whitetails scarcely deserve the occasional harrassment Raleigh and I provide with pellet pistols, but this buck made me wonder how much trouble a suburban homeowner might incur for hunting without a license. I watched him walk across the cul-de-sac and into my neighbor’s backyard, calculating the distance to my rifles.

Any one of my little brothers would have harvested this guy and asked for permission later.

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