Fidge and Nimrod School a Horse

We're back at to tell the final story of the Nimrod UP Thanksgiving/ Deer Hunting trip. We left off awhile back reliving the exciting moments of Yoop and Logger putting some classic Yooper smack down on some deer.

The next day Fidge arrived in the great not so white north and it was decided the young man and I would head out to Loggers deer condo. We loaded up and headed toward the woods. We stopped at a small store on the way to load up on Vernors and Snickers. When we turned off the main highway it was game on. Like Clark Kent stepping into the phone booth, Fidge and I instantly had our game faces on. There was no doubt in our minds that we were coming back to Loggers empty handed.

Once we got near the condo, I parked the truck. Fidge gave me a funny look and asked "Aren't you going to drive up to the condo?"

Perplexed by the question it took me a second to realize he wasn't joking. I replied "Are you legs broke?"

"No"

"Then no I ain't driving to the condo. Grab your stuff and let's get walking."

After a debate about whether the heater was needed on a fall like winter evening we settled in for what we knew was going to be a great night for some Nimrod venison collection.

After what seemed like 30 minutes, I checked my clock and confirmed it had been 30 minutes. Nothing yet.

About 5 minutes later I was woken from my slumber by what I first thought was a raccoon scrounging through a garbage can. I slowly opened my eyes and looked toward the sound. I was somewhat relieved, as well as annoyed, to find the noise was Fidge tearing into his Snickers and Vernors. I thought about asking if he could be any noisier but was scared to find out the answer.

"See anything yet?" I whispered.

"Just some birds."

"Me either."

This routine continued on for most of the evening. At one point Fidge woke me asking "Is that a deer on yourside?"

My pulse quickened and I lifted my binos to peek.

"Nope. That's a horse." I replied without thinking.

"I thought they got rid of their horses?" He questioned.

The fog cleared from my head and I remember he was right. I looked again and it was a deer, a huge deer about the size of a small horse. Not one of those miniature toy horses either. It was a small Clydesdale. I looked harder and saw some normal sized deer crossing behind the horse; suddenly the plan to not return empty handed look more reasonable. We only needed the horse and crew to cross the opening, follow a ridge line a couple hundred yards and then pop out for a simple 80 yard rifle shot. Game on!

Fidge and I sat perfectly silent waiting on what was coming next. The anticipation built as time passed. So did the noise level in the condo. Between Fidges flatulence and crinkly snickers wrapper and me waking the dead when I opened the condo window, there was no way horse and friends knew we were there.

Turns out horse and friends had different ideas. They felt it better to parade back and forth across the opening never coming down the ridgeline and therefore never offering us a shot. By dusk Fidge and I counted about 15 deer. Were they the same ones, taking turns walking the cat walk? Who knows? We didn't return empty either. We brought the trash from the condo back to Loggers. Don't want those pesky raccoon rifling through the trash.

Check back soon for the belated finale with Nimrods lever action bowhunt!

Easter bunny delivers!

Hope you don't mind a quickie. Life is rolling on and on here at the Nimrod Ranch.

Turns out with the selling of the Heep and me being forced into driving the Turse has forced me into a corner. The lil ol boat Monkey and I used on our excursions to the numerous small lakes around the ranch doesn't fit on top of the Turse.

So I set out on a short journey and the other night the Easter Bunny delivered our new vessel. A 15 foot canoe. We have plans for her maiden voyage and she is yet unnamed.

I am open to any idears for names for her. Shes not the sleekest boat in the water, but a pretty green with three seats. If you have an idear post a comment or post something to our Facebook Page. While your there click on "Like."

Oh by the way, the Easter Bunny bringing the vessel home was more than a cliche... check out Yoops Bunny Wagon!

Belated 2010 Nimrod UP Thanksgiving/Deer Hunting Trip

Yet again the Nimrod Crew made the journey to Michigan's north land. Thanksgiving, family and of course UP deer hunting. This year wasn't much different than years in the past. We recently unloaded the Shaggin Wagon onto an unsuspecting fella who unloaded a newer but beat up Turse onto us. All round everyone got the shaft, so all is good. We were presently surprised at how well the ol Turse ran and considering we nearly doubled the gas mileage over the sled or Shaggin Wagon. We will leave it at that and will not compare the cargo space or comfort.

Nimrod had to work most the evening before the trip. Yoop put the youngin's in bed like normal and the plan was to wake them just prior to pointing the Turse north. When I got home I quietly started loading the Turse with the gear a crew of 4 was going to need for a week long trip to the north land. Well... Yoop did most the packing and I think we could have made it a few more weeks if we had to.

After carrying the third bag to the Turse, Yoop and Munda came stumbling out to see what was going on. Munda wasn't nearly as cheerful as she usually is in the morning. Maybe because it was the middle of the night, not morning. Yoop helped me finish the loading as she also tended to Munda. Once we were about ready to roll I went and shook Monkeys cage.

Yoop had told me that he didn't want to go to bed last night, he wanted to leave for the north woods right then. He got pretty upset when she said they had to wait for Nimrod to get home. Smart boy.

As I rattled his cage he acted all grumpy and didn't want to wake up. I told him Yoop told me how he wanted to leave last night and now was the time to go, he still grumbled but with a grin on his face.

Once the crew was drained and loaded up we set the compass north and left the Ranch. The trip was nice. I have always preferred traveling during the night. There is less traffic on the roads and no blinding sun to deal with. Turns out we were traveling at near a full moon, and on a nearly cloudless night. the moon was about as bright as the sun. I had to have the sun visor turned on the side window to keep the moon light out of my eyes.

After a bright but uneventful trip, we arrived at Loggers ranch mid morning. Logger was just returning from a morning hunting trip. Although his truck was empty, the anticipation was high. We mingled around for awhile, unloaded the Turse. At some point I succumb to the sleep monster for a few hours. Yoop and Logger went for an evening sit and again came back with an empty truck.

I bet I have mentioned before that Nimrod isn't a fan of mornings. Not much good usually comes from them anyway, so why submit to the pain of rising before the sun and dealing with the entire day? Its much easier to stay in bed and get up later- at least you only have to deal with a portion of the day.

The next few days went the same. Yoop and Logger would head out before daylight. Evenings trips were me and either Yoop or Logger. Most days nothing was seen. What deer were seen were too far away to drag back from the neighboring property.

A few days into the trip, Yoop and Logger surprised us all by coming home with something in the truck. Turns out they decided to relive old times with Yoop pulling the trigger on what she thought was a doe and Logger connecting on a small buck.

Yoops deer was a cute lil fella. Small devil horns that barely stuck out over the hair on the top of his head. Yoop and Logger have about an eon of combined hunting experience. So how could they both miss the miniature head gear this guy wore? I asked them and they both claimed innocence, repeatedly stating they had watched her/him feed for several minutes, all the while assessing her fitness for the freezer. After determining she would fit well in the Nimrod freezer, Yoop did her thing.

Not until did they get up to her/him did they realize she was he. Button bucks are widely known to be yearly deer, however when the DNR checked in Devil horns, they aged him at 18 months. Further badgering of Yoop and Logger on their obvious over site of the massive antlers this deer wore, found an obvious answer... they think someone some how hid the horns from their view, and then uncovered them before the reached the fallen beast.

I laughed at them, spouting that only happens to me.

Stay tuned for the next entry, where Nimrod and Fidge hit the woods, Nimrod goes bowhunting with a 30-30 and the finale of the Nimrod deer season.

The Itch

Over the past few days a lot of people have asked me about the Nimrod Clans UP Deer Hunting trip. Both people thought it would be a great way to get over my recent writing block. Right after our return from the Great (Not So) White north, I had started to pen the days of the adventure. Each time I went back to the story I would get a rash and a bad twitch.

Since the physical reaction to a story was not very fun, I just avoided it completely. I went back often working to complete the deer hunt entry, at least until the rash and shivers started again. A time or two I even tried to start a new entry. Which worked for about a paragraph longer, yet still ended with in a shivering pile of itchy Nimrod.

After a month of this vicious cycle, I thought hard about giving up on the Diaries. I mean it was like having target panic, but not being able to practice to get over it. I felt like a rooster with no hens. A spring Gobbler with only other Gobblers to chase. A rutting buck without trees to rub against. A spawning bluegill with no sandy flat. Why keep something that caused me such heartache anytime I approached it? Ol Nimrod is a glutton but everyone has a breaking point.

On the brink of dropping the Nimrod Diaries hotcake, I decided to give it one more night of thought. The next evening was spent, mostly, on the thinking chairs at the Nimrod Ranch. I used both chairs, in case one had more mojo than the other. Written materials were also recruited to assist in solving the problem, especially since the mail lady delivered the new Orvis, LL Bean and Cabelas Fly Fishing catalogs the day before. In addition, the latest issues of Deer and Deer hunting and Fur, Fish and Game were waiting to be opened.

As the night grew old, and my visits to the thinking chairs grew in number, the cause of my problems began to reveal itself. I dreamed of warming days, flooding creeks, fly fishing, spring turkeys, bedding pan fish. A renewed potential for success danced on my mind. I snapped out of my dream when I realized the roll from the thinking chair was missing. It wasn't empty. It was gone completely. Who would just steal the whole roll, inner cardboard and all?

To save details, I made do and got a new roll. I was still wonder who in the world would steal a whole roll of paper, knowing the chair was still being used? It was about then I noticed the Fur, Fish and Game magazine was missing also. Yoop, Monkey and Munda were all sawing logs and hadn't been up for a few hours. Where in the world is the paper roll and Fur, Fish and Game magazine with the article on winter squirrel hunting???

I gave up and went to the computer to check in at the normal places. Nothing new in the News. Not much going on at the hunting and fishing forums. Checking email, I realized I haven't checked the Nimrod Diaries email account lately. Logging in I found what I expected. A handful of spam and nothing more.

I signed into the Diaries, check some of my favorite blogs, happy to see they are still up and running. Seems the itch is only effecting me. I read back to the early days of the diaries that seem so long ago. I enjoyed the laughs at myself and relished the idea of how the Diaries have grown and matured. Thats my story and I am sticking to it.

After reading the diaries, beginning to end, along with visiting the thinking chair a few more times the source of the Itch started to become clearer. The more I thought about my writing and my most recent deer season the catalyst of my writing block was not wanting to admit how my season had gone. While Nimrod never claims to be that great of a hunter, I have been doing it long enough to be skunked. Let alone skunked two seasons in a row.

Yep.. you read that right. Nimrod has eaten tag soup for two seasons in a row. I have said it and quite honestly I feel much better.

I could easily make excuses, I mean I missed the heart of bow season, sidelined by Yoop and Doc for a bum wrist. Our trip to the Great (not so) White north was a bust. I only saw a few deer, several hundred yards away on a neighboring property. Or how my new job at work has me busier than before. Yet none of that takes away from the fact I failed to connect on a deer, failed to bring meat home for the family. Luckily Yoop didn't get skunked, but I will cover that later.

After all this... I'm back! For better or worse, I am back and hopefully here to stay.

Check back soon as I will cover the 2010 Nimrod Crew UP trip, how I ended my deer season, ice fishing, snow shoeing and maybe a few other fun winter things... that is of course if I get them done before the spring season start up!

Thanks for sticking it out, I hope this year makes it worth your while.

The second of the great fall seasons is now upon us. Michigan's 2010 Firearm Deer season kicked off without a bang. It was more of a snore than a bang- at least for Nimrod.

You may recall last year how we all learned to never ever ever never break a tradition. This year was going to be different. The traditions chair is where I wanted to be. Its where I needed to be. Its where I was going to be.

The previous day I laid out all my gear. Ensuring the transition from Laborer Nimrod, into Nimrod then to Predator Nimrod went as smooth as it never could be. I grabbed the gear and loaded it into the back of the Sled and set off for the family land. Monkey had to attend class at his institute of higher education so the rest of the crew was going to stay at the Nimrod Ranch unless some foolish deer decided to pay me a visit.

The drive went without anything. Really nothing. The Sled doesn't have a radio. I usually listen to an MP3 player with either podcasts from Michigan Outdoor radio shows or an eclectic mix of music. This morning it was nestled in a cup by the home computer. The hum from the tires and rattle of the engine kept me entertained on the ride. Not exciting but who wants to get all excited before the second of the great fall seasons?

The roads were wet from overnight rain. Luckily I had thought ahead and brought a towel to dry the seat of the tradition chair. I would not have to have a short sit with a wet seat. As I drove by baseops I noticed not a creature was stirring, not even Grey Beard. Knitter was already off to drive her yellow dinosaur; shuttling the kids to the institute of higher education. Grey Beard was sawing logs. I thought about honking as I went by but when I tried the horn on the Sled didn't work.

As I pulled into the field at the family land, I was undecided how sloppy the mud was going to be. Since the sled has racing slicks I decided to just go for it and hope for the best. As I gave her gas and hit the dirt, I quickly found out the mud wasn't sloppy and darn near rolled her from the speed.

I parked her in the same spot I have parked for many, many hunts. I shut off the engine, and sat in the quiet for a few minutes. While one would think I was letting the exhaust fumes blow away in the wind, I was really taking a quick nap.

Once I awoke, I decided it was time to get out into the Traditions chair. I stepped out and gather my gear. I took off my boots and stepped into the muddy dirt. Since Nimrod is always thinking, I realized the floor mat from the drivers cockpit of the sled would keep my feet dry and clean. I retrieved the mat and stood on it with my dirty wet stocking feet. As I put on my hunting gear, piece by piece I transformed from Nimrod into Predator Nimrod. Life was good.

A sneaked to the Traditions Chair and found the seat bone dry. How a seat, sitting in the woods with no cover, could be bone dry after a night or rain is beyond me. Not wanting to feel too foolish, I sat on the dry towel anyway. All the while wonder how the seat was dry.

This opening morning was like ones in the past. There was not spectacular sunrise, there was nothing coming alive as the sun rose. It went from night to day. No fanfare, no parades or fireworks. Just the light overcoming the darkness. Morning just became.

Not only was there no fanfare with the coming of the morning. There was no fanfare or fireworks during the time I sat in the Traditions Chair. I heard one faint gun shot at dusk. Nothing more. Only excitement was someone sneaking to his own stand on a neighboring property. It appeared he was coming onto the family land but it was just my sleepy Nimrod eyes playing tricks on me.

Since it was opening morning I had planned to sit for several hours. Ya never know when these sneaky brown ones will decide to come out. Shortly after night became day I woke from a nap and decided it would be best to head toward the Nimrod Ranch. It was quite a drive and I was barely awake. I sneaked back to the Sled and loaded my gear.

The rest of the Second Great Season opener was nothing. Sleep and family stuff. Oh I saw a dear on my way to the ranch. Lil buck out in a picked cornfield eating. Sure enough... this was not a normal Second Great Season opener.

Murph still haunts me.

Ahhh... yes. Finally Ole Nimrod is back in the saddle again. The gimped up wrist is back to 80% and its time to rock and roll. I have two weeks of bow season to catch up on. Unfortunately my time off seems to have left Murph bored out of his minuscule gourd. He is back to his annoying antics... worst I have seen in a few years.

Getting a late start on the season has really set me back. I am fighting to catch up to where the deer are and what they are doing. My brain is still in early season mode even as the weather and deer are firmly into mid-season movements. Didn't think it was going to be as big of a challenge as it is.

As season got closer to Halloween, I got closer to the deer. It was really neat and odd at the same time. First time in a long time, dare I say ever, I was actual doing the right thing, and nearly in the right places to intercept the deer. Considering I rarely find myself at the same place as the deer I am happily astonished. I have not closed the deal, and have since been forced to work to pay the bills, but nonetheless its almost like I know what I am doing this year.

About a week ago, I decided on sneaking out on an evening hunt on some public land not far from the house. I sweet-talked Yoop and she gave me a hall pass for a few hours. I loaded up my gear and set off to the honey hole down the road.

Things had been going so smoothly, I had nary a thought about old Murph. The thoughts I did have were fleeting... mostly thinking not to think about him. As I neared the honey hole, I checked a few nearby parking spaces to see who else was out taking their chances. I smiled when I noticed no one else around. The deer were all mine to not get close to.

While I was gimped up, I had been doing a lot of scouting using aerial and topo maps. Each time I would look at the there were two spots that stuck our like sore thumbs where deer should be, but likely weren't. I was going to check out one of them on this hunt to get a feel of how the deer were using it.

I pulled into my parking space and started the transition from Ole Nimrod to Predator Nimrod. As I opened the sleds rear hatch, I noticed something odd. My bow and quiver were not to be found. As faithful readers of the Diaries, you know how thorough Ole Nimrod is. I never look over the tiniest detail, unless I am in a hurry or there is outside influence.

I hurried back to the Nimrod Ranch. On the way I called Yoop and asked her to look for the missing bow and quiver. Its not too hard to lose, a classic green Fred Bear Kodiak Magnum and quiver with 3 cedar shafts crowned with red stain and fletched with 2 red and 1 white 5 inch feathers. Not something you will drop in the woods and loose.

After checking, Yoop told me they were sitting where I had left them. I quickly let her know there isn't a chance in the world I left them there. I remember very cloudily that I carried them out of the house and put them in the back of the sled. I wonder if they grew legs and arms and sneaked out of the Sled into the house. Or did something else happened?

I didn't have time to figure it out. There were some deer that needed to be hunted and a Nimrod that needed to hunt some deer. I tossed the bow and arrows into the Sled and scouted off to the woods.

As I reached the parking lot entrance, I noticed something I didn't see before. Probably cause it wasn't there. In the middle of the road, about 50 yards past the parking lot was a nice mature doe standing in the middle of the road. I was a bit miffed, as she was walking right toward where I was planning on hunting.

After seeing the sled, she decided to change her plans. She glanced toward me, showed me her middle hoof and then waived her tail good bye.

I geared up and sneaked off into the woods. 20 minutes late and upset about scaring the game way before even stepping foot into the trees. Alas, no worries.. there is more than one deer in them there woods.

I reached the secret spot after tip toeing through the over grown pine tree hedge lines for 15 minutes. Not thinking about how I would have been ready for the doe if someone hadn't taken my bow and quiver out of the Sled; I readied my faithful stool for my sit and I sat. It was then I noticed one of the three legs of my stool were broken. I checked but there was not anything red neck engineering could do to incorrectly repair the offending leg. I snuggled into a small tree and waited. Aside from frustration and incessant harassing, and broken stool nothing more came from that sit.

A few days later, after making a grocery run for the Nimrod Ranch, plans were made for a hunt on the family land. Yoop and Munda were going to wait for Monkey to get off the bus after his day at the institute of higher education and Nimrod was going to run to base ops to get a jump on the hunt. I made a quick stop at base ops, hit the head and then got cruised over to the family land.

After the preceding fiasco, I think I double checked my gear before leaving the ranch. When I got to the woods, and started the transition to Predator Nimrod I had another sinking feeling. You know the feeling, like something is missing and it will ruin your whole day. I finsihed suiting up and grabbed my bow.

You ever have on of those days where you have everything planned out and halfway through realize you forgot something? Me either. But as I grabbed for my bow I realized it was not in the Sled. Fool me once shame on me. Fool me twice and label me a fool for life.

I made the transition back to Ole Nimrod and set back off to base ops. More thana little upset, I was about to throwing in the towel for the nights hunt. I checked my wallet, thinking a stop at the local daddy pop store was in the cards. Finding Yoop had once again raided the money section, the shiny new small game license caught my eye.

The nimrod mind shifted gears. Someone once told me when life gives you lemons, squirt them in the eye of your enemy- so I made it back to base ops, grabbed Grey Beards old 22 rifle and set back off. Mud and I have noticed an a large population of tree rats, and if you recall I have a debt to settle with at least one.

I sneaked loudly into the woods and found a tree. Cleared the leaves from around it and sat down. I loaded up the 22 and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. After a bit it became clear. Murph had taken all of the tree rats out for a little bow shooting at the Ranch.

Uh oh... not in bow season

Short and sweet this time around. Doc and Yoop have decided the nagging, sharp constant pains in my wrist are forcing me into a hiatus from bow hunting. The gist of it is my wrist is either broken or not working right.

I am still not very happy but when Yoop makes threats that I can't say on here... I know she means business.

So for now, I am gimped up, depressed and stuck wearing a brace... and not shooting or hunting.

Not often I say this but life isn't the greatest right now. But it could be worse. Hope to get out a few times with my camera... oh wait, my zoom lens took a dump to. Life is grand.