DEC'S NEW DEER MANAGEMENT PLAN FOR THE FUTURE

Well, if I had to summarize the DEC's "new" deer management plan that was unveiled at the New York State Conservation Council's meeting on September 19th, I guess I could sum it up in one word "PATHETIC."

Let me explain.  The presentation listed the following goals for the 5 year plan:

1) A Population goal.

2) A Hunting and Recreation goal.

3) Conflict and damage goal.

4) Education and Communication goal.

5) A Habitat goal.

6) An Operational goal.

Now, on merit, if you were the average educated citizen of New York State, you might be tempted to say, "okay, it seems like they are focused on the needs of NY conservation and we are heading in the right direction".  WRONG!

At the Spring meeting of the NYSCC Director Riexinger assured us (the Big Game Committee) that by this Fall meeting, an extensive deer management plan would be laid out to the council members.  The only real thing that is clear with this plan is that the DEC is content to sit back and do nothing!  They are going to "paper tiger" deer conservation to death, until they are all eligible for retirement incentive packages.

Anyone who was present at the meeting knows that I was the first to raise my hand and my voice.  See, my blood was boiling about this extension of the ruse that we have come to accept as deer conservation in this state.  For well over a year, we have been questioned (deer meetings of '09) and surveyed, nearly to death (Cornell HDRU, etc. etc.).  This plan, when looked at objectively, is a common sense look at what should have been in effect for the last 100 years!  The DEC is mired down in stall tactics fueled by fiscal neglect.  It is clearly the same old BS, but now we have less and less to work with!  Less money, less personnel, less leadership, and certainly less insightfulness.  

The DEC has failed to address the real problems that concern hunters.  They just don't comprehend that the main component of attracting more hunters to the tradition is "better deer hunting" and that means bigger racked, healthier deer.  They don't seem to comprehend that habitat plus age diversity equals better hunting and better hunting means more license sales.  Its just common sense.

While the DEC insists out of one side of their mouth that more education is needed; before antler restrictions can be expanded and out of the other side they proffer that antler restrictions should be voluntarily expanded on private lands.  The message becomes quite clear that the DEC speaks with forked tongue.  If they truly believed that more education was needed then why is it they don't tell the truth about antler restrictions?  In the past, you would hear the DEC biologists spout about how there was NO biological need for antler restrictions, but since world renowned wildlife biologist Dick Henry (one of their own brethren, formerly of the NYSDEC) put to print the true facts about antler restrictions and the role age diversity actually plays in the herd's cycles of life, well I haven't heard or read a peep out of them.  The fact of the matter is that as Mr. Henry has tied it all together through scientific fact, it becomes a clear matter of what is best for the resource (the deer) and NOT what is good for the uneducated hunter.  

So let's see if I can tie this altogether.  The hunting tradition is on a strong decline in this state.  The resource is not even close to maximum health.    Deer habitat in a substantial portion of the Southern Tier is severely lacking and the state sits back and reverts back to the same old stuff!  There is something terribly wrong in the state of New York.   

Antler restrictions will insure that a necessary aspect of a deer's life cycle will be healthier.  67% of the DEC surveyed populus wants antler restrictions because they know it is good for the deer and deer hunting.  Antler restrictions are not the cure all for what is wrong with our deer population, but they are one of many steps in the right direction.

What is crystal clear here is that the NYSDEC is deficient in their approach to modern deer management!  They neither have the direction nor the means to rectify the situation in time to salvage our tradition!  Perhaps with the election of a new governor in the coming months we can look forward to getting rid of the dead wood in the upper echelon of our dysfunctional conservation department!

PS - To the members of The NYSCC.  I think it would be a step in the right direction if Mr. Dick Henry was invited to speak to the council on the antler restriction issue.  He could certainly answer all the scientific/biological questions relative to herd health and the dynamics that will lead to better hunting.

------ Martin T. Mc Donnell

A HORSE STORY or JUST HORSING AROUND???

So, I am coming back from a "trout town USA " dinner Saturday night, and as always I am on the back roads and always looking for a photo-op.

I figured I could get some nice shots along the Willowemoc as dusk was approaching.  As I came around a turn on Hazel Rd I spied two horses in a fenced pasture and they were on the far end!

Well, as soon as they saw me exit the car with camera in hand I could see a twinkle in their eyes and I knew they were in a mischievous mood. They looked at each other and then sauntered quickly in my direction.  Now, by no means am I a horseman, but as a "ute" I was around horses many times, as my sister rode frequently and eventually worked on a horse farm, a place called "Borderland Farms" (Sussex, NJ) as a teenager.  I am comfortable around them, but I have to admit that I am intimidated by their size.  I could see that they were up to no good.  I felt like I was about to be pick-pocketed.

I realized that the possibility that they could smell the "rib sauce" from my recent dinner on my hands may have been an attractor, but these two just had "trouble" written all over their faces.  I greeted them with soft friendly words as they lifted their heads over the corral fencing to get a better look at me.  They seemed friendly enough as I patted their foreheads.  I saw this as a great photo opportunity and tried to position myself with my back to them to set up the picture.  I was laughing as I did this and one of them pushed my shoulder with its nose putting me off balance, (a little) but still laughing (almost knocked the pick out of my mouth)!

I was actually giddy at this point and tried to center myself between these two characters holding out the camera trying to get all three of us in the picture.  As i did this, the blonde haired hussy on the left grabbed the back of my arm with her mouth giving me quite a pinch.  Still laughing, but now alert, I chortled some foul language in her direction and backed away.  I knew i had been used and abused by these equine comedians!  So I said to the one on the right "Whats with the long face?"

Eh, I guess you had to be there!

PS - I have subsequently learned that this dynamic duo's names are Horace and Jaspar  --- NO Just kidding!

Thats Rusty and Jeri.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth!

Never kick a gift horse in the mouth!

Never stick your arm in a gift horses mouth!

WORDS to live bye!

MR. NELSON, "TEAR DOWN THAT WALL!"

I read Dick Nelson's column the other day.  His diatribe on crossbows and the pathetic stance of the "New York Bowhunters" was reading just fine until he mixed in his usual nonsense about antler restrictions.  See, Dick is still mired down in the rhetoric that surrounds antler restrictions.  To most opponents, antler restrictions equate to trophy hunting.  They all  spout the same crap, "ya can't eat horns" or "I have to feed my family" or the classic "its about personal freedom".  I am sick of it!  This is retardation at it's best!

These rationalizations, and that is EXACTLY what they are, draw a direct correlation to what is wrong with "sportsmen" today and why our tradition is dieing.  SELFISHNESS!  To posture one of these excuses is downright selfish and contentious, to say the least.  Thank God, that Dick Nelson and his ilk are the minority in this debate because otherwise, all hope for the resurrection of our tradition could be lost!  

Now, selfish is a strong word, but that is exactly what comes to mind first, every time I hear some "expert" using the "personal freedom" mantra.   It resonates ME ME ME!  Sportsmen, are supposed to represent what is great about our tradition.  They are supposed to embrace their role as a deer management tool while enjoying all that nature has to offer!   In this case, the quarry and its healthy proliferation are supposed to be what is important to deer managers and hunters alike.  When that importance is not evident, well, then it becomes all too easy for the antis to paint our picture with broad strokes using depictions and words like "bambi-killers", "blood-thirsty" and even "murderers".  We are tools of deer management, borne from primordial needs, but we are supposed to have consciences too!  We are supposed to respect our quarry and nurture their healthy management. Gone are the days when men (in general) had to go afield to feed their families.  Rarely, is it a necessity in America for men and women to take weapon in hand for the express purpose of putting food on their table.  Those days are over! 

I believe that to negatively connote and disparage, those of us that realize that antler restrictions can help insure a healthier herd is myopic; and to a degree slanderous.  If nothing else, it is an attempt to shed poor light on the people who truly understand the positive effect that yearling buck protection can play on the animal; in conjunction with the herd health and hunting tradition.

Mr. Nelson really manifests his ignorance on antler restrictions when he postures and panders his negative rhetoric:

"If proponents of this restriction are so obsessed with shooting older deer, why don’t they hunt in those units. Unless, of course, they don’t want to stray too far off the road.

One has to wonder, does he really believe this crap and just what is he trying to infer?

Does he really believe that better deer management plays into the anti-hunter's agenda?  

Mr. Nelson needs to wake up and realize that his perspective on deer management is part of the negative equation, as to how and why, our hunting tradition is sinking into an abyss.  Our generation has FAILED to stimulate regeneration, because men like himself have become enamored by mediocrity.  They choose to remember bygone days as the 'good old days' instead of understanding the reality of our failure to improve hunting conditions (habitat, access and the nurturing of the specie) as they will relate to the future!

Mr. Nelson's column can be read at:  http://www.registerstar.com/articles/2010/05/27/columnists/outdoors/doc4bfdf99d4b903273176495.txt

WAS I RIGHT OR WAS I WRONG?

I was wrong!  It took me a few years to figure it out, but my usually optimistic perspective was wrong.   For several years I have been telling many of you that Dr. Gary Alt and the Pennsylvania Game Commission had made a huge mistake by forcing antler restrictions down the throats of Pennsylvania's residents.  I have gone on record as saying that the NYS DEC was going about it in a better way.  That gradual implementation would be advantageous for New York hunters as they would be less resentful to having a different scheme suddenly enacted.  I have said, 'that easing into a new strategy would be received more easily by those against, and understood by those for, who understand their necessity for implementation in the Southern Zone'.  One problem to that theory, I did not count on the hierarchy of the DEC turning into spineless jellyfish and turning deer management in New York into a futile action.  The DEC did not have the foresight to further implement the plan on the basis of science.  In fact, their refusal to see the importance to the herd and deer hunting was myopic!  

Gary Alt was right; in matters of science, hunters opinions should not have any bearing!   

See, Gary Alt had a plan, a real deer management plan, to solve a real management problem.  He had a huge unhealthy deer population whose sex ratio had grown way beyond the norm.  As a true man of science, he realized that the herd health was in jeopardy and that delaying the implementation of a remedy could have serious consequences.  He saw the problem for what it was, "biology related".  He did not account for the initial public relations nightmare that was festering, but then again, he did not have too because he was sure of his course of action and he set the plan in motion.  Even when the Pennsylvania "sportsmen" mocked and threatened him, he knew that his plan was sound and logical.  He dealt with the reality of the situation; regardless of the upheaval in the sporting community.  He was absolutely correct in his assessment that the herd was more important than the lambasting that he (personally) was getting from the court of uneducated public opinion.  Science should rule when it comes to the well-being of the specie!   Science should rule on behalf of the specie even while biologists debate the necessity of the action!  At the very least, science tells us that age diversity in the herd is important to functioning NORMALLY!   

Dr. Alt is a true hero of deer conservation in my opinion, as he put herd health above the protean whims of the uneducated sportsman!

Now, many will sneer and be quick to point out that WE don't have the over-population problem that Pennsylvania had!  Well, that is only partially true.  In sheer volumetric numbers that is true, but there are regions of this state that you can't find a deer and there are regions of this state where the sex ratio is way beyond the high-side (5:1 ratio) of norm, that is accepted by most biologists.  Many biologists believe that the 5:1 ratio is impossible to exceed, but prior to the Pennsylvania implementation of the antler restrictions, the western study area (WSA) was documented at 9.8 does to 1 male deer and the eastern study area (ESA) 6.2 does to 1 male deer. (Behavioral Ecology Advance Access - "Dispersal" - published online on August 4, 2008 -- by Oxford University Press)  Those numbers represent a reality that prevails in regions of the northeast, including large tracts in New York's Southern Zone.  The facts remain, that the DEC has failed to address these problem areas and has failed miserably when accounting for deer herd populations.  The use of the Citizen Task Forces to count and relay deer numbers is just not reliable.  Groups that meet every 5, 10 or 14 years (as is the case in WMU 3H) can not possibly account for the fluctuation of deer densities that occur annually.

The DEC touts a 2.3:1 (DTB Ratio) in the southeast region of New York State.  Believe me, that if that number was even close to reality the DEC would not be looking to implement a new 5 year deer management plan.  Why?  Because if that number were true and accurate, we would not need a new plan, we'd be looking to tweak an already successful plan and that is just NOT the case!

Back in November 2009, (after the Region 3 DEC deer meeting in Middletown) I found myself in discussion with Director Riexinger, in the back of the auditorium.  We briefly discussed a variety of conservation issues.  One of which, was of course the further implementation of "antler restrictions".  It was at this time that the director lamented to me that her single most "regret" in her tenure as Director of Fish, Wildlife and Marine Resources was that 'she had not furthered the implementation of antler restrictions'.  I remember my exact words and thoughts at that moment.  I said, "Director all it takes to rectify that situation is the stroke of a pen".  I realize that it is a little more complicated than that, but in reality, not much more!  My thoughts, at the time, were that her words allayed a lot of my apprehensions as to which direction the DEC would go.  I walked away from our meeting feeling very good that Director Riexinger was going to do the right thing!  She has NOT! Instead, the DEC has stepped backward into a bucolic malaise as they "hope" the winds of time and a ouija board mentality will show them the way to their new management plan!  

Director Riexinger is viewed and positioned to be Mr Grannis' fall-guy.  It is her reputation and her legacy that remains in question.  She will bear the brunt of the criticism that will be heaped on her along the passage of time.  Her posture, that evening, to me now appears to have been disingenuous and calculated.  She needs to stand and be counted as Dr. Gary Alt did for the amelioration of conservation in his state.

As for me and how wrong I was?  I, like Director Riexinger, are capable of mistakes, or errors in judgment (whichever you prefer), but my mistake was simplistic and borne of a liberal well-intentioned thought and can easily be rectified by a writing such as this.  Director Riexinger's path and policy on antler restrictions now reek of insincerity and apathy!  As sportsmen's numbers dwindle, and the hunting tradition is staggering to the attrition line, It is time for you Director Riexinger to act on behalf of the deer herd and the thousands of outdoorsmen who have proffered this change in deer management philosophy!

What say you, Director Riexinger?

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

TO BE OR NOT TO BE
 that is the question:
 Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
 the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
 or to take arms against a sea of troubles

Some fathom me as a troublemaker.  Some ask me why stirring the pot comes so easily.  Others cant their heads and endeavor to understand my predilection for the fight.  

The cause, my friends, is just!

When I take umbrage to the inane (sometimes insane) positions of the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation concerning deer management, it is a labor borne from my passion for the animal and the hunting tradition.  I have met and spoken personally with many of the men and women who are charged with this responsibility.  For the most part, they are wonderful souls who have dedicated their lives to science and education.  They seem to be as passionate about conservation issues as I am, and they obviously have the educational credentials (that I don’t) to back their positions.  So here I sit, wondering what is wrong with me?  Why have I become so skeptical of the machine that drives the conservation bus?

Because, I believe that these people are too ensconced in the rhetoric of a failed system.

On April 19^th, representatives of the DEC were present at the NYS Conservation Council Spring meeting of the Big Game Committee.  They took this opportunity to further announce that they have begun working on a new five-year plan for deer management.  They explained that, “deer management has not changed much in decades”.  My initial thought was “finally”.  Finally someone is realizing that deer management in New York State is just a myth.  Finally, hopefully, someone has realized the mere survival of the specie (odocoileus virginianus) is not, and should not be, the only goal of deer management.   That thought, was a fleeting one!   I raised my hand and asked, “Will this plan be broken down into regions?”  The response was, ‘No, that this plan was a broad perspective for the needs of the whole state’.   It is there, at that point that I began shaking my head.  My mind begins racing, I remember thinking to myself, “this is bullshit!”  Once again, the DEC does not have a clue as to what they are doing.  Is it me?  Am I the only one who realizes that the stench of bullshit was raising its ugly head again?  Let me explain!  Let me qualify my response.  I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York.  My father was a police officer in NYC for over 27 years.  I spent 20 years on the same mean streets as a police officer and sergeant doing “god’s work”.  I qualify as a bullshit specialist.  I heard it.  I saw it.  I see it!  I can smell it from a mile away!  So, when someone tells me that deer management can be done from “models” or by virtue of the state’s big picture, the hair on the back of my neck stands at attention!  Its bullshit!

Remember, only two things have remained constant about New York deer hunting in the past few decades. “It” has gotten worse and hunter numbers have declined dramatically over the last 30 years.  The state of the herd is that it is alive.  That is the best and only real assessment that can be derived.   Deer management in this state has become oxymoronic.   No real management plan calls for the inclusion of 30,000 mistakes (button bucks and fawns killed annually) as management.  No real  management plan would include an age specific gendercide! 

There is no age diversity throughout the majority of the state’s deer herd.  Depending on where you are in this state between 65% and 80% of yearling bucks are harvested annually.  Does that reflect deer management?  When the DEC wastes its time, energies and resources proffering multiple hunter satisfaction surveys on the same issue (antler restrictions), does that tell you something?   This is the group mandated to manage for healthy deer and the proliferation of deer hunting as the only real management tool.  When antler restrictions were postured as a viable solution to the age diversity problem.  They set a “super majority” goal as an unrealistic affectation, believing that they would never see it attained and in effect would never have to deal with it.  When, 67% percent of those in the target area responded that they were in favor of antler restrictions; as a means to yearling buck protection.  The DEC chose to side with the “negative” responders, even though 14 percent of the negative responses were from outside the targeted areas for implementation.  Is that deer management?  What other industry or management scheme gives more credibility to a tainted minority sampling than it does to a super majority?

The loss of hunters can be attributed to a lot of reasons.  Certainly, all the adages of the new technologies attracting our youth away from our once proud tradition are true.  Certainly, hunter access is a huge part of it, but lets be clear about one thing.  Deer hunting is lousy in a majority of this state.  It is lousy because there is no age diversity in the herd.  Antlers, the target of most hunters cannot be achieved without healthy habitat and older animals.  To go to the woods with no expectation of seeing (nevermind harvesting) an antlered buck has been a huge detriment to the hunting population.  That truth is as plain as the nose on your face.  To increase hunter participation one must have a salable commodity.  That salable commodity in this case, is a healthy large racked buck.  One must be able to at least dream that there is a big-racked buck around the next corner.  In this state that idea amounts to a pipedream.   It is a fact that with the advent of age diversity comes more “rubs” and “scrapes” in the woods.  These precursors to the rut  can rile the hunter’s imagination and satiate a “need” to believe that a monster buck is out there.  If nothing else, these signs are the equivalent of free advertisement.  

The DEC knows this and yet has failed to recognize the needs of the hunting tradition.  They have done nothing to advance or entice hunter participation.  They refuse to acknowledge antler restrictions as a deer health issue because as they say,  “there is no critical biological need”, well, I don’t think they would dare say the same about hunter retention and recruitment.  There is definitely critical need and common sense dictates that bigger antlers are good for hunting.  There is a very simple equation to be understood here: Healthy deer + age diversity = better hunting experiences.  Better hunting experiences equate to a manifestation and proliferation of the tradition.   Its that simple!

My skepticism is further exacerbated.  This 5-year plan is scheduled to be unveiled at the Fall meeting of the NYS Conservation Council meeting in September.  What does that mean?  I look at it as prelude to further disaster.  This plan will be in effect starting in 2011.   That is a huge “leap of faith” on the part of the DEC considering that November 2010 is an election month.  There is a real expectation of a change in this state’s government.    New governors mean new commissioners and new directors etc. etc.  There is a good chance that these people will not be in place to see the “plan” go into effect.  Their legacy will be one that reflects their inability to initiate change in a timely manner and/or one that will reflect their failure to further implement antler restrictions as their single biggest mistake and regret.

I will go out on a limb here and state the obvious.  To me, it is evident that further implementation of antler restrictions will NOT be a part of this year’s management scheme.  Too many things have not happened to expect their inclusion.  Another year wasted!  One step further, I don’t see them being an integral part of the “master” plan.  Unless the plan includes a micro-management of at least several sizable regions or present legislation comes to fruition.  We have bore witness to the further malaise we will refer to as the “Grannis/Riexinger years!

Believe me when I tell you that I hope the state proves me wrong, but until I see change – real change – its all two-faced bullshit mixed with tears for effect!

And so I say unto you, beware the light,

Its reverence is veiled beneath the shade.

Underneath the smarm;

Lays the roots of truth!

--- M.T. Mc Donnell

(PARTll) THAT GREAT GRAND CANYON RESCUE EPISODE!

Well, we survived Powell’s Falls.  At the time, I remember thinking that the adrenaline rush that I experienced could not be topped.  Today, 25 years later, I still believe it is at the apex of incredible experiences that now define my life, and that includes a few high-speed (over 100MPH) police car chases through the streets of New York City that make the famous “French Connection” chase scene seem like a leisurely ride through the country.

The end of day six finds us in the bottom of the canyon.  We enjoy a comfortable night’s lodging and are told that day seven starts early with breakfast.   Our gear would be leaving before us and would be at the hotel at the rim of the canyon.  We needed to fill our canteens and head over to the trailhead.  We were instructed to pace ourselves (as the weather was warm) and that water would be accessible at oases along the way.

(The guides amazingly continue the water journey with their equipment for four more days to a landing place where the rafts can be trucked back to Flagstaff.)

I remember that morning as clear as if it were yesterday!  It was 75 degrees as we finished breakfast and headed to the trailhead.  I remember we stopped, I looked up, I looked at Don and Bob and I remember saying ‘Holy Shit”!  In a flashpoint right out of the “Treasure of the Sierra Madres”, I suddenly realized why we needed burros.  I looked at Don and said, “Don are you ffffing kidding me?” 

The trail, a rocky footpath is a modest 2 feet wide at it’s beginning.  I remember thinking to myself, “my God it’s 1985 there has to be a better way.”  We began our ascent on the canyon with me shaking my head, every step or so, it seemed like I turned and looked at Don and cursed him.  When I wasn’t cursing him, I was planning his demise. 

It was hot getting hotter.  The trail zigzags back and forth across the mountain in annoying fashion.  I remember thinking “this is ridiculous why didn’t they just cut this trail straight up?”  Back and forth, forth and back!  Hour 2 it was at least 90 degrees.  I was sweating like a pig as I finished the water in my canteen.  I turned to Don and muttered something about “where the fffck is the watering hole?”  He answered, but I don’t remember it being intelligible.  It was at this point that I remember saying to Don “I HOPE YOU GET FFFFING HEMORRHOIDS!”***  I don’t remember what really predicated that thought and those words, but I remember them rolling off the cotton balls on my tongue as clearly as if it were yesterday.  On and upwards we climbed.  My mouth was dry as the sand beneath my feet.  Finally, at about hour 3 we hit a watering hole.  Nothing could possibly have tasted sweeter at that point (and yet I remember the taste of that ever-present southwest sulfur reverberating on my palate).  We splashed and rested in the water.  There were no shade trees so we found some solace on the darkside of one of the larger boulders.  It was about 95 by then!  After six days on the water and being exposed to all that sun I did not think it possible to burn anymore then I had already, but there, in the desert, is always that next degree of pinkish hue that extends the spectrum.  Upward we pushed, by hour 5 we were out of water again and Don was looking at me like I was a juicy pork-chop!  I am sure the temperature was hovering around 100.  Finally, a watering hole in the distance, I was so overheated I ran to the far end and jumped in!  As I raised my submerged head and cupped the water to my lips I heard the frantic high pitched scream of a woman (or so I thought, it was just Don)  “DON”T DRINK THE WATER!”  I looked at Don.  From his end of the pool he reached into the water and pulled out a signpost that had been pushed over into the water.  The sign had words to the effect of “DO NOT DRINK THE WATER” some kind of dangerous bacteria existed and ……. blah blah blah!

OMG!  What had just happened?  Did Don just save my life?  Is that what really happened?  Those four words (DON’T DRINK THE WATER) are words that I have had to hear (ad nauseum) every year, every hunting season, at every campfire, every family-get-together and every chance that my buddy Donald has had to tell that story.  For years I was in denial, for years I would rationalize that I probably would have had a case of really bad diarrhea and that everything would have turned out alright anyway!  It wasn’t till a few years ago that I was able to come to terms with the reality that under the circumstances, maybe, just maybe Donald had a positive influence on my life!  That’s it, ha ha!

Well, the trip did not end at that watering hole.  We made it to the next oasis.  It was about hour seven when we heard noise and voices approaching us from above.  There ahead, were several touristy looking people with straw hats on donkeys coming down the canyon trail.  Apparently, the hotel above has these donkey excursions to the bottom of the canyon to satiate the tourists who had no need for a white water adventure.  It was at this point that we realized that we would literally have to hug the canyon wall in order for the donkeys to squeeze bye.  I will never forget that feeling of being crushed against the jagged rocks as the sweaty sure-footed animals squeezed on bye!  Finally after 9 ½ hours we reached the rim.  I still remember those last few curse laden steps onto flat ground above the canyon.  It had made it up to 107 degrees that day in the canyon.  I had a mild case of sunstroke, a crack in my lip the size of the canyon and a head full of incredible memories.  I remember thinking ‘we didn’t need those stinkin badges’, but we sure needed those stinkin burros!

***Bye the way, on March 15^th, 2010 my dear friend Donald had a surgical procedure on the largest hemorrhoid in Long Island medical history!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

THAT GREAT GRAND CANYON RESCUE EPISODE!

It was the early Fall of ’84 the phone was ringing and my buddy Don was on the other end.  Don and I met in ‘82 and became fast friends the minute he invited me to go woodchuck hunting with him.  Well, this call wasn’t about hunting.  This call was about another serious adventure!  I remember he was excited and needed an answer right away.  He said, “a buddy and I are whitewater rafting the Grand Canyon, are you in or out?”  Back in those days I didn’t need much prompting for any outdoor adventures.  I remember saying, “I’m in.”  I started to ask, “when?” But Don interrupted and said, “I’ll call you right back!”  Click!

Two days later Don calls me back, he says, “I got two questions for you, the lady wants to know if we want to rent burros and how many tents do we want to rent?”  I said, “Don when is this trip?”  He says, “May, 1985.”  I said “Don that’s nine months from now!”  Do I really have to book a fffing donkey nine months in advance; and what do I need a donkey for anyway?  Don says, “well, the seven day rafting trip leaves you off in the bottom of the canyon and we have to either ride burros out, or walk out from there.”  I said,  “Don how far a walk are we talking about?”  I remember him saying, “it’s just a couple of miles, I really don’t think we need them!”  BAM – mistake number 1!!!  I said, “what’s the story with the tent?”  He said, “well, you are the odd man out, me and Bob are getting a 2-man tent just in case” I said, “well what is the weather like in Arizona in May?”  He said, “it’s hot during the day but the nights cool off nicely, so bring a sleeping bag!”  “If anything happens you can squeeze in with us!”  BAM – mistake number 2!!!

Nine months flew bye.  The next thing I knew I was on a 9-seater jet going from Vegas to Flagstaff, Arizona.  The lady across the 15-inch wide aisle from me filled her barf bag in the first 10 minutes of the flight.  Her bag was full and now she was elbowing me across the aisle to give her my bag, as she wasn’t finished yet.  That was the longest 40-minute flight on record. I think I held my breath the last 20 minutes of that flight.  Let it be known, when you fly around the Grand Canyon there is a lot of turbulence!

Our group consisted of 16 adventurers from all over the country, 5 guides, and 5 rafts.  These people formed a diverse group from all over the country.  There were two brothers from Cleveland, a couple from the Midwest, three elderly folks in their upper sixties from California and a few people from the Southeast.  One raft was filled with food and equipment and navigated by one of the guides.  Don, Bob, myself, and a rotating guide were in one raft, the others decided that they would enjoy being in different rafts with different people every day.  We were explained some simple rules of the river:

                        Hang on tight!

                        If we were dislodged from the raft keep your feet in front of you and keep your head up!

After that short speech we had no idea what to expect.  What we were told was that it was May, the water was high, fast and cold from the melting snow in the mountains above.  Bathing, was to be done in the heat of the day and no one could stay in the water for more than a few seconds at a time, as hypothermia could set in rather quickly from the bone-chilling water.  Open campfires were not permitted in the canyon, so warming up meant jumping jacks till your blood started to flow again.  As best I can remember the actual water temperature was 37 degrees.

We started off slow, the water was not that deep and the first ½ hour on the water was peaceful and serene.  The scenery is incredible!  For seven days all you do (besides holding on for dear life) is gawk at the splendor and majesty of nature.  I know I took over 400 pictures that week and only that few, because I never thought I would need more than 20 rolls of film.  If I had a digital camera back then, I probably would still be out there!

It wasn’t long until you hit the first set of rapids.  That is when you start to get a feel for what is about to happen.  By the third day you really have your sea legs.  Those rafts get bounced so high and so hard one can only try to equate it to being inside a very deadly pinball machine.  One second the back of the raft is 12 feet off the water and the next second you are plummeting towards jagged rocks at a speed so alarming you don’t have time to be scared.  A minute later you are casting a spinner bait into a placid pool.  That’s how it is all day!  You go from immeasurable adrenaline rushes to tranquil landscapes; all just around the next bend in the river!

At night, the guides would pull off the water and we would all help set up camp.  In many places along the canyon there are huge open caves carved from the base of the canyon that provide perfect shelter from the elements.  We had no idea what to expect as far as the food.  I know I expected nothing more than freeze-dried or hydrogenated meals.  It was to my great surprise when the guides pulled out a propane cook stove and whipped up hot gourmet meals.  I am talking filet mignon and fresh vegetables.  Every night was a different surprise!  The pi`ece de resistance were the boxes of wine!  Granted, these were not fine cabernets, but the novelty of enjoying a simple pleasure after an incredible day on the water made them taste oh-so-good! 

It wasn’t until the third night that we camped along the river under open sky.  It was a perfect night.  The stars were so luminous that you did not need a flashlight for that walk to that evening’s designated latrine area.  Don and Bob pitched their tent, I dug a shallow crevasse in the warm sand and layered the bottom with a small tarp.  I figured between the warmth of the sand and my sleeping bag I was going to sleep like a baby!  When my eyes closed there was not a cloud in the sky, 3 hours later the first drops of rain hit my face.  It started to come down pretty good.  So I went over to the tent and unzipped the flap.  That tent was so small I would not have fit in it even if I had a crowbar to wedge between Don and Bob.  I returned to my now half-filled with water gully and crawled into that wet sleeping bag and I cursed Don for a long time.

 I awoke as the sun rose, I was a frozen Popsicle of a man!  I cursed Don a few more times!  It seems that I have done that a lot over the course of our lifetime afield together!

Day six on the river means Powell’s Falls.  These are the biggest and baddest falls in America.  You don’t play around in these waters, you hold on and pray!  The guides pull off the river to scout the falls and then decide who is going first while the other rafters sit and watch from a higher vantage.  The purpose is twofold: 

1) to give the guides an idea where they want to be at certain points in the falls and 

2) to kick-start an adrenaline rush the likes of which you may never have again in your life!  

Just watching is incredible, never mind the reality that you will be in “it” in a few minutes.  Let me point out that there is no turning back.  There is no way out other than the water; unless you are willing to charter a very expensive helicopter ride.  I don’t remember that being offered as a viable option.  We were all there to make our mark; to chalk up a life experience that few others ever enjoy!

Next week the thrilling conclusion to THAT GREAT GRAND CANYON RESCUE EPISODE!

Until then, take a minute to view the website below.  It is a fine depiction of what you can expect in the canyon.  Keep in mind though, that this portrayal was done in August many years after ours and the water just by the nature of the time of year was much slower and warmer then when we undertook our journey!

http://philip.greenspun.com/travel/grand-canyon-rafting

THE SOLUTION TO DOE MANAGEMENT --- --- ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS

Many sportsmen, myself included, have lauded the need for the NYSDEC to micro-manage the deer herd.  I have heard fairly regularly the rationale ‘that the DEC does not have the manpower, nor the budget’, to forego a plan that includes micro-managing a deer herd.   While we can’t expect a biologist behind every tree, I don’t think it unfair to expect them to ask the right people the right questions. 

(For most of your edification, Region 2 (NYC) was excluded from the planning of the recent DEC Deer Meetings.  It was not until I drove upstate and informed Dir. Riexinger of this oversight, that a meeting was hastily planned.  I am one of those that have always felt that arbitrarily excluding 55,000+ license buyers from the process is a bad way to begin gathering information.)

It seems, as usual, that I disagree with the direction, or lack of direction that the NYSDEC is going.  Here is why!

The DEC is mired down in hunter satisfaction surveys for the third time concerning antler restrictions.  Part of the problem is how they have solicited the questions and answers in these surveys.  Somewhere along the line, some genius decided that instead of asking a straight question and getting a straight answer that it would be more fun to ask a question and get several degrees of answers that could be manipulated to say one thing while it really might have meant something else depending on the chronological order that they were listed in or how perhaps a bureaucracy was leaning that day!  I think you get the idea!

Instead of sending out these inane surveys and waiting for Mrs. O’Leary to milk the cows before she sent it back half filled in, or with hanging chads; or not bothering to do anything but throw it in the composter, it should be made mandatory to have to fill out a questionnaire at the time of issuance of a hunting license or when filing for a doe management permit.  The following questions, when answered, will give the DEC a wealth of information that will assist in micro-managing the herd:

1)  What Wildlife Management Unit do you do the majority of your deer hunting in?

                        ________

2)  How many days a year do you spend afield hunting deer with a firearm?

            3+_____       7+ _____      12+_____

3)  Are you a meat hunter?       YES_____          NO_____

           

4)  Would you be willing to harvest a doe for the venison donation program?

            YES_____          NO_____                  

5)  Do you believe that antler restrictions will have a positive influence on deer hunting in your WMU?           YES_____          NO_____

Five questions, that when answered, gives the DEC a better way to insure that doe management gets done!  For too long we have used a lottery system that DOES NOT work!  Give the majority (85%) of deer management permits to those that will get the job done.  Give 10 or 15% of the permits to those that would use one if they had enough time or were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.

With the information gleaned from question #’s 1, 2, & 3 it should be pretty easy to predict who should be placed in the top positions for a doe management permit in specific WMU’s.

Question’s 2, 3, & 4 will give you a pretty good idea who is capable and willing to fill more than one permit.

Question #5 unequivocally gives you the answer as to who wants AR’s and what areas they should be implemented first.  No need for a super majority either – simple old democracy will do – majority rules!

SOME SIMPLE RULES:

A)  Meat hunters must donate their 2^nd doe to the venison donation program.

B)  Food banks would have a monumental amount of venison in them and the meat could be distributed in two ways.

1) 60% of the meat to the banks for the poor and

2) A reasonable amount of meat could be given to a hunter who had applied for a permit (and paid his $10 fee) and did not get one.

3) Those that donate a deer would be entitled to another permit for their own consumption or donation.

SCORING:  You need a minimum of 6 points to be considered for a deer management permit.  10 points would put you in an optimal position to get more than 1 deer management permit.

Question #2   3+ (2 points)   7+ (3 points)  12+ (4 points)

Question #3   A YES answer is worth  (3 points)

Question #4   A YES answer is worth  (3 points)

I understand that perhaps wildlife biologists are too busy saving ecosystems around the state and they are much too busy to sit around collating the extensive information that my five questions will render, but this information could be gathered and data-banked by resourceful college students from science programs across the state.

All of this plan, is contingent on the DEC doing a better job of figuring out where there is need for doe culling, but even with their current formula, assigning permits should assure a significantly higher success percentage then the “hoping” and “praying” methodology that is implored today!

Now, some will say that my plan is too simplistic.  I say, in order to fulfill certain management goals it is imperative to ask hunters specific questions.  For far too long, the DEC is absolutely positively guilty of dancing and skirting issues and their mandates.  A system that counts on hunter’s mistakes to fulfill management goals is lamentable!  A system that stipulates that outrageous criteria be met, as in the case of antler restriction expansion, and then reneges on their own criterion, well that is pathetic and contemptible!

Oh, one other thing!  It’s obviously my blog and I have always believed that criticism is only fair if you inform those being criticized of how I feel about things.  Printed below are the e-mail addresses of the upper echelon of the NYSDEC that I have sent my blog too.  While I try to let them know exactly how I feel, please feel free to e-mail them your own feelings on the issues, and tell them I sent you!

Alexander “Pete” Grannis --- petegrannis@gw.dec.state.ny.us

Patricia Riexinger --- pxriexin@gw.dec.state.ny.us

John Major --- jxmajor@gw.dec.state.ny.us

Gordon Batcheler --- grbatche@gw.dec.state.ny.us

Jeremy Hurst --- jehurst@gw.dec.state.ny.us

LET’S GET SERIOUS ABOUT DOE MANAGEMENT

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation informs us that only 16% (approx.) of all deer management permits are filled annually.  In 2008, DMP’s accounted for 86,417 antlerless deer being harvested in New York State.   (56,117adult does, 13,040 female fawns, 15,001 fawn bucks and 2,259 adult males).  In my opinion, other than the adult does, that equates to 30,300 mistakes, or errors in judgment.  Call them what you want, but you can’t convince me that hunters take to the woods with intent to shoot button bucks and fawns!  When 36% percent of the DMP’s account for the harvest of juvenile males and fawns; that suggests to me that there is something terribly wrong with this state’s deer management scheme.

“In recent years, only about one-third of hunters with DMPs were successful in filling them. Hunters fill about half of those permits with adult does. Therefore, it is necessary to issue about six permits for each adult doe to be killed.”  --- DEC Website

The DEC approximates that in order to fill one adult doe permit they need to issue six!  In the last few years it has become possible to consign your unused permit over to another person!  They are “hoping” that the tags get filled and that is NOT responsible, effective deer management.  The percentages are stark when you think about them.  In real terms, the DEC accounts for 30,000 (approx) mistakes annually to try and reach their doe management goals.  That my friends, is NOT deer management!  It is a feeble understanding of real numbers that the DEC expects to positively affect management goals.  In reality, that is not good deer management at all! 

A reasonable person only has to look at the way the DEC accounts for deer numbers and management needs to realize what a travesty deer management has become in New York State!  The DEC proudly tells you that their primary resource for accounting for deer “number fluctuation needs” is the Citizen Task Force Groups.  I wonder if the average hunter realizes how often these groups meet?  The DEC website tells you these groups should convene at least every five years.  Now, for example, if you go to the DEC website and look at WMU 3H, you will see that the last time a Citizens Task Force Group met was 1996.  Yes, that’s 14 years ago in a management unit that has an antler restriction pilot program going on.  Does anyone think that the deer population in 3H has not changed over the last 14 years?  How about the landscape and its effect on an already unstable population?  Anybody out there think that maybe the DEC needs to re-evaluate their protocol for managing deer numbers?  I certainly do!

The premise of the Citizens Task Force Groups on paper is probably a good one.  People from diverse groups throughout different communities are brought together to discuss and address deer populations and management needs, but when those groups, either don’t meet often enough or a community’s logistics change, then the value of their management goals is only as good as the last meeting.  This cannot be the acceptable practice for deer management in our state.  It is irresponsible to think that management needs and goals 14 years ago would be applicable today!

I will offer a solution to the ineffective system of deer management permits in New York in my next blog.

THE YELLOW TAIL WINE CHRONICLE

It’s been 18 or 19 days since I was first alerted to the fact that the Yellow Tail wines distributor had made a $100,000 donation to the Humane Society of the United States (HSUS).   The HSUS people (for those of you who may not understand the dilemma) are a group that has vowed to see to the abolishment of hunting and fishing throughout the world.  The majority of their monies are NOT earmarked for animal shelters or rescue efforts as their name might imply, rather, their radical agenda against sportsmen.

There has been an awful lot written since this insulting donation was made.  Thousands of sportsmen have been alerted to this situation via numerous outdoor columns across this state and country, as well as the thousands of email lists that transverse the country and world.  I myself have written two different letters to the company in hopes of them understanding their mistake and rectifying their decision (see below), but apparently to no avail.

Yellow Tail has tried to dance around the issue.  First, they responded to concerned sportsman like myself with an unsigned form letter that explained that their donation would be earmarked specifically for animal rescue.  More recently, in a letter to an upstate sportsman they took a softer tone, but alas, they have not said the magic words!  They apparently just don’t get it.

The magic words are:

         “WE ARE SORRY, WE MADE A MISTAKE.  IT WON”T HAPPEN AGAIN!”

Maybe they do things differently in Australia?  Maybe, they don’t realize what forgiving people we Americans are?  Maybe, apparently, they just don’t care what Americans perceive as being offensive to our polite society?  Maybe they just need to be taught a lesson!

Let the message be heard loud and clear --- American sportsmen and our families are boycotting Yellowtail wines!

You can email the company and voice your displeasure about their donation and failure to understand the problem to: 

maria.gallagher@wjdeutsch.com

or

info@wjdeutsch.com

You can write to:

W.J. Deutsch and Sons Ltd.

108 Corporate Park Drive 
White Plains, NY 10604


You can telephone:

Tel: 914-251-9463




Ask to speak to Bill Deutsch, W.J. Deutsch’s chairman or Peter Deutsch, the company’s chief executive officer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

LETTERS THAT I HAVE SENT:

Dear Yellow Tail Representative,

You have made a huge error in judgment!  Sending me an unsigned "form" letter is the epitome of an attitude that is uncaring, demeaning and insulting.  Your ignorance in redressing my letter will now cost you thousands of New York outdoorsmen as customers.  Rest assured, that my e-mail list and blog will extend my message to thousands of the sporting public and they in turn will spread the word to their extended families and lists.

Your attempt to streamline your donation to specific HSUS projects is tantamount to compounding the atrocity.  You stated that "We’ve listened to your recent feedback and it was very helpful to us....", but that is not true and your posture is not acceptable.  You have now exacerbated your donation mistake by insulting mainstream America.

In effect, you have made it much easier to boycott your product.  Had you admitted your mistake and corrected your donation we would have found it easier to move on from this issue.  Instead, you have raised the ire of all concerned sportsmen and women and now your company will have to learn a huge business lesson.  Your company's business acumen will surely be reflected, as future profit margins can be expected to plummet.

As you contemplate your next business endeavor, perhaps you will learn from your mistakes,

Martin T. Mc Donnell

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

To Whom It May Concern,

It is a sad day when a "favorite" company such as Yellow Tail refuses to admit its error in judgment and fails to correct it's poorly chosen business decision.  Yellow Tail's donation to HSUS is just that, as HSUS is an organization that is well known to be against hunting and sportsmen.  A large portion of their monies already, are used to work against this conservation strategy (hunting is the accepted and preferred wild animal management tool throughout the world).  Your alignment with this corporation does not sit well with sportsmen and women.  Our reaction, will be an easy one, as our consciences will not permit us to purchase and enjoy your product any longer.  

One would hope that you would recognize the potential disaster in your decision, as there are upwards of 70,000 hunting licenses sold in New York City alone.  Compound that across this state and country and there is certainly realistic potential for your company's concern.

I suggest to you that your charitable donations targeted towards the goodwill of animals would best be served by donating to any, or all of the following legitimate organizations:

New York State Whitetail Management Coalition (http://nyswmc.com/)

Quality Deer Management Association  (http://www.qdma.com/)

Whitetails Unlimited  (http://www.whitetailsunlimited.com/)

Pheasants Forever (http://www.pheasantsforever.org/)

Trout Unlimited  (http://www.tu.org/)

OUR LEGACY OF LAZINESS

I’ve been hunting a lot of years now.  I’ve seen a lot of trends.  Over the years, we’ve all seen the decline in hunter numbers and most all agree that it is extremely difficult to get our youth interested in our hunting tradition.  They have so many more distractions.  Whether it be organized sports, Nintendo or the latest X-Box game, kids get busy with the latest toys of technology.  Who can blame them? Who is to blame?

I grew up without the wonders of technology; hell my family’s first television set was a19” black and white.  The only real technology to it was figuring out which way to splay the antennas to get ”a fuzzy at best” reception on each individual channel.  We did not watch a lot of television in those days.  There just wasn’t enough spare time. 

I grew up in the heart of Brooklyn, New York City.  Every day after schoolwork I played street hockey, stickball, baseball, football or basketball.  I was a typical city sports rat that would run up and down two full flights of stairs with my roller skates on, just to go to the bathroom or to get an occasional snack.  My grandparents were fortunate enough to own a little country house a few hours outside the city.  Every Summer, as school ended, my mother and father packed up the family and he moved us up to that house in the country for the Summer.  By the time I was 12 -13 I dreaded the upcoming Summers.  The thought of being away from my friends, with all that free time was just incomprehensible.  It wasn’t until much later on in my life did I appreciate how all those wasted Summers (of swimming, fishing, canoeing, hiking, water skiing and catching birds and chipmunks) fostered and eternalized my love for the great outdoors.

It seems to me that, yes, interest in the great outdoors has waned, but not because it isn’t interesting, but because there has been a lack of effort by parents to introduce their children to all that nature offers, and bye the way, this did not just start ten years ago.  This goes back much longer than that.  I remember men, who were in my hunting club who never shared their experiences with their children.  Many of them were too self-centered and selfish to share their time away, with their own children.  Too many times I heard them say, “look, my time away is my time,” “if I get a chance to get away and I want to have a couple of beers I don’t want to be wiping kids asses or chasing them around.”  “When he is old enough, I will bring him up!”  Bye then the cause was lost!  Worse then that, some of them objected to other guy’s kids being in camp because it encroached on their important right to use the vulgarities not normally heard or seen in their own homes.  Wrong, dead wrong!  It was that attitude that was the beginning of the end.  It was our generation that started the malaise.  We, collectively are accountable.  Oh, it’s easy to blame the pressures of horrible work schedules or other familial responsibilities, but when it is all said and done, laziness; lack of effort and insight, will be our generation’s conservation legacy!

The only way that I see, to reverse the trend is to make our outdoor experiences, family experiences!  For way too long, women have been excluded from our hunting camps and fishing trips.  No longer can wives and children be selfishly excluded from our hunting fires.  Their inclusion is just way overdue.  It is simply a matter of sacrifice, self-preservation and planning.  While family vacations to Disney are wonderful experiences, we need to get back to basics in order to save our traditions.  There are thousands of outdoor oriented vacation enterprises in the Northeast that encompass activities around lakes, streams and mountains.  Not every outdoor experience has to revolve around the harvesting of animals.  Good times spent in family activities will afford and nurture educational opportunities to explain and teach the ways and means of management goals and what is expected.

I don’t think that all of the responsibility and blame should fall to parents either.  The state’s responsibility to foster opportunity must encompass “affordability” as a factor.  There is absolutely no good reason that teenagers in this state should be made to pay license fees.  As the game managers of the state it is imperative to make recruitment and retention not only feasible, but enticing and affordable.  Afterall hunters are needed to manage game.  Without us (and it sure seems to be heading in this direction) the state will have to pay private companies to manage our herds and flocks.  I would further the idea by including, that college students and young men and women serving in the armed forces should be given free licenses.  It is imperative that the state understand that the expectancy of hunters as cash cows has become counter productive to animal management efforts and that every effort and expense should be made more palatable to recruit the citizenry back to the future.

Men it’s our move!

A GUIDE TO DEER CAMP PRACTICAL JOKES ---------- (Part II)

Now, just as FFFFing Gordon had his partner Tony P., I too had a partner. His name was “Light Line” Lenny. See Lenny was a young guy like myself with some bright ideas and we seemed to work together well. He got his name simply because he rarely ventured into the woods, just simply preferred the open views that the “power line” afforded. We had a good feel for our adversaries and we figured that by watching each other’s back we could sleep better at night. We were younger, brighter and faster then those two old sharks.

One day, just before the gun season, Lenny calls me on the phone and he’s laughing so hard I can barely understand what he is saying. He tells me that he has got the mother of all practical jokes. Now, I am all pumped up for hunting season anyway, but a good practical joke would be the icing on the cake. He would give me no more information over the phone, other than to say, “wait, till you see this”.

Lenny and I always got to camp earlier then the rest. The reason being, that there were only 12 lower bunks in the bunkroom and we both preferred getting the same bunks year in and year out. I was in lower 1 the first bunk to the left as you entered the room. Lenny always got lower 7, which was directly across the room from me (on the right as you entered the room). We could protect each other in the dead of night from two-legged predators this way, and also because the only light switch and electrical outlet were both on Lenny’s wall. After several years, crawling into # 1 represented “being home”. The old mattress finally contoured itself to my body and I did things like hang an extra blanket from underneath the upper bunk so that my eyes were shielded from any light in the room and it was less likely that any buckets of water that were thrown in my direction would be able to penetrate my little fortress. I’d always hang a small flashlight in there for reading and midnight emergencies,

Back in the 80’s that club had some world-class snorers, so anything that you could do to make sleeping more pleasurable (as pleasurable as can be, sleeping with one eye open) we did! Many a time I’d eat a quick lunch and head back into the woods just to take a nap. I figured being ravaged by a bear would be no more painful than falling prey to Gordon’s foolishness. If you fell asleep on the couch you were guaranteed a hot foot, at least in the woods you stood a fighting chance!

I saw Lenny’s car pull into the long driveway. His father was with him and I couldn’t wait to hear his plan. He motioned me to the back of his car, lying in the trunk was a large red fire bell. He had acquired this humongous fire alarm bell from an old school. This bell was the type that reverberated through a whole school when rung. I looked at Lenny and said, “what the f-ck are you going to do with that?” He looked at me and said, “I hot-wired it to an old electrical cord, all we got to do is wait till FFFFing Gordon goes into town on one of his 4-hour shopping tours and strap it underneath his bed frame, right under his pillow.” “When he goes to sleep all I have to do is plug it in.” I said, “Lenny he might have a heart attack?” He just looked at me and said, “yeah, maybe” and laughed.

The next morning, before any of the other members even arrived we did a test-run. Lenny plugged it in, the bell started clanging; it was so ffffing loud. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought a fire truck was in the room.

It was shortly after the test that guys started rolling into camp. Gordon and Tony P. arrived just before noon. Oh, it was so good to see the old geezers. Their arrival signaled that the fun could begin. They weren’t in the door two minutes when the consumption began. “Hey ffckko get me a beer.” Those words, those six little words really translated into “all was good in the world, deer camp is now open.” As elders in the club, they both took great pride in their pre-opening day chore. You see, they were the good will ambassadors of the club. Every season they would arrive in camp with several bottles of whisky and scotch that were purchased for the sole purpose of endearing the club to the locals. They would distribute to the local road crew (they kept our roads clear of ice and snow) and several of the neighbors who would keep an eye out on the house and property throughout the course of the year. The only problem was that by the time they got to the last neighbor’s house they were always H-A-M-M-E-R-E-D. Two of us would have to go down and pick them and their car up, but it was the least we could do since they were coming back to cook dinner!

Our plan was to strike on Saturday night before the season traditionally opened on Monday. Camp was just about full, although a couple of guys (who just loved upper bunks) would drive up after lunch on Sunday. Saturday, about 11 AM, FFFFing Gordon announced that he and the one-armed bandit would be going to town to do a little shopping. This was great, as many of the men were either bow hunting or scouting the woods or working around the outside of the house. Lenny and I strapped that big old bell to Gordon’s bunk without anyone noticing. We were meticulous about putting his bedding back exactly as he had left it. We filtered that extension cord between the bunks and around the room and under a piece of carpet that crossed the room right to Lenny’s bunk. It was perfect. All he had to do was sit up in his bed and plug that baby into the socket.

Oh, the beer and booze were flowing that night. The traditional hardcore card players were dealing jacks-or-better poker. FFFFing Gordon was in the game. Most men got nasty and sarcastic when they were losing. Not Gordon, he’d get nasty and sarcastic when he was winning! He’d carve you up with his sarcasm especially if he could lay down the better hand after yours. As it was, it worked out perfect. I didn’t mind losing a few shekels. I wanted to be in bed before him and Lenny was on the couch watching a movie. It was getting late, I had made my annual donation and I looked at Lenny and said good night to those still playing cards. Twenty minutes later the card game was over and I heard men heading to their bunks. Gordon, as usual had to have one more beer and one last cigarette. I saw Lenny get in his bunk and I knew we had some time to go yet. Afterall, he had to be asleep when the bell went off, otherwise it just wouldn’t have the same effect. Then it happened, I heard him say the magic words “good night ffcko” and could hear him heading for his bunk. He had put in a good solid day of socializing and I knew it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes for the buzz sawing to start. Everything was perfect! Four minutes was all it took, I sat up and whispered across to Lenny, “hit it”! I saw him sit up in his bed and I saw him plug it in! Nothing! I whispered, “what happened?” “I don’t know,” he said. “Well, try it again!” NOTHING! “It must have a short or something,” he whispered.

The next morning, Gordon announced, “I slept like a baby, me and Tony are going to church”. My eyebrows did a high arch and I said, “church – should I call and warn them? Be careful.” The minute they were gone Lenny and I conferred. “Was he onto us?” “Did he disconnect the bell?” “What the f-ck happened?” Lenny flipped on the bunkroom light and crawled under his bed. He checked the connection and it was good. I went over and plugged in the extension cord. Clang clang clang! What the f-ck? He looked at me. I looked at him. We’ll have to try this all over again tonight. The day flew bye. Everything was running smoothly. There was no perception that FFFFing Gordon had any idea what was waiting for him in the dark of night. Again, I was in bed before him. Lenny and I waited in the darkness for his “goodnight ffcko” that he would say to anyone that was up later then him. Again, it wasn’t long ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Hit it Lenny! Again NOTHING! What the f-ck? He must know. He must be disconnecting it and playing along. We were both enjoying our morning coffee when FFFFing Gordon got up from his slumber. On his way to the john, he stopped, he looked right at us and said, “good morning ffckos, so quiet in the bunkroom last night” and continued into the bathroom for his brief respite! The steam was boiling internally! He knew, he knew, he knew. How did he know?

A few days later, FFFFing Gordon was heading home for Thanksgiving. We waited till he left to dismantle the bell. He never said a word. One of the guys saw us taking the contraption apart and inquired as to what we were up to. Lenny explained our failed plan. The guy just looked at us and said, “you idiots, that electrical socket is connected to the light switch. It won’t work until you turn the lights on!” OH SHIT, he of course was correct!

A+ for creativity! D for dumber than rocks! P for paranoid! F for failed effort!