Montana Woods N Water, February 2015, Volume 2, Issue 1

February 2015

Reflections by Jason Badger Ode to my Valentine by Tony Rebo It’s Never Too Late by Angela Montana Camo Sweetheart Ball—Page 9

Volume 2, Issue 1

Publishers Notes

By Raf Viniard As of this writing, only 71 days until bear season and 67 days until turkey season opens, not that I am counting. However, in about 11 days you guys had better start scouting, investigating and locking down that perfect gift for that special someone in your life. That’s right Valentines Day is just around the corner, you have been warned!

You are gonna want to go hunting and fishing this year...just sayin!

I don’t know about you folks but I am ready for spring. I keep trying to break away from the office to do some wolf and bunny hunting and to fill my lungs with that fresh Montana mountain air. Not to mention looking for some nice sheds while I am at play in my thousands of acres Montana backyard. However, I keep getting tied up doing chores around the homestead or going to a meeting. By the time the weekend get s here I am bushed.

As I watch the news and listen to business owners across our area I am very concerned about our country and our American and Montana way of life. Not to mention our veterans serving overseas. Things are a mess!

I am so glad I live in Montana and mostly surrounded by like minded people that just wants the government to stay out of our life and business. I am in my early 50’s and worry more about our children and grandchildren than myself. So many of the kids nowadays have no clue how to take care of themselves let alone their neighbor. Because of my faith and the many friends I have made since moving to Montana, I do not fear tomorrow...nothing I can do about it anyway.

As spring approaches I look forward to wetting a hook, chasing a big old jet black, tan nosed hungry bear or calling in a ground dragging long bearded full throttle gobbling turkey.

Don’t forget Montana Woods N Water, Big Bull Sports and the Sanders County Search and Rescue will be holding its 1st Annual Camo Sweetheart Ball, 28 February. Tickets will go on sale 5 February. You can read more about this event by going to our website: www.montanawoodsnwater.com and hit the “SAR” tab for more information. We also have a large ad Contact Us in this issue on page 9. Somebody is going to win a really nice gun and other door prizes will Montana Woods N Water be awarded. There will also be a silent 171 Clark Creek Loop auction. This is going to be a fun event.

Plains, Montana 59859 Tickets are limited, so get yours early.

406-08-0576 Keep sending us your pictures and stories. We thank you for your continued support.

VALENTINES DAY, DON’T FORGET!

www.montanawoodsnwater.com Email: raf@montanawoodsnwater.com

Publisher & Editor: Raf Viniard 406-407-0612 Field Editor: Mitzi Stonehocker 406-544-1868 Sales & Marketing Director: Kori Erickson 406-293-1478 Flathead Valley Sales Rep: Misty Loveless 406-250-4191 Missoula Sales Rep: Vacant Pro Staff Writers & Photographers: Angela Gerych Pastor Jim Sinclair Dan Helterline Zach Butcher Paul Fielder Montana Mitzi Toby Bridges Sam Martin Toby Walrath Jason Badger Tony Rebo Editorial Policy: Montana Woods N Water (MWW) reserves the right to refuse to publish in any form of content that does not include the author’s name, complete mailing address, and/or valid phone number or e-mail address.

Anonymous submissions will not be addressed or published. MWW reserves the right not to publish anything we feel is not in good taste or appropriate.

Front Cover Photo Provided By: Kori Erickson Yaak River

WING SHOOTING

Reflections

By Jason Badger Despite the frigid winter weather, spring turkey season will be here before I know it. For me, reflecting on past hunts is as much a part of the preparation for the upcoming season as tuning calls and organizing gear. On this sunny but bone chilling day my mind wanders back through previous turkey hunts and lands on one in particular. As I lean back in my chair, I feel a little smile slowly spread across my face as the memories come rushing back. Alone in the quiet, I take in all the sights, sounds and smells. I want somebody to share it with, so I start typing...

The afternoon sun trickled through the branches of the towering Douglas fir trees, casting beams of golden light over the forest floor.

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WING SHOOTING CONTINUED I was doing my best to blend into a small fir sapling ten yards behind my wife, who was positioned to intercept the gobbler we hoped was fast approaching. I scratched out another series of yelps on my Primos Power Crystal and was cut off by a thunderous gobble, closer than the last, that echoed through the timber. Ready or not, this bird was coming.

Just moments before, my wife and I had been casually strolling hand in hand down this decommissioned Forest Service logging road in northwestern Montana. We had come here in search of a local legend. A turkey we had been told was all but un-killable. We knew ahead of time our chances weren’t good this late in the season and this late in the day. The legendary gobbler had seen and heard it all. And he would undoubtedly have female companionship at this hour. Regardless, we decided to give it a half-hearted attempt. We had given up and were returning to the pickup when we first struck the bird.

This was my wife’s first season of turkey hunting, and despite some close calls, she had yet to connect with a bird. I knew frustration was setting in. I had punched my tag with a mature tom early in the season so I was along to call and enjoy Mother’s Day with my best friend. Whether this was the bird of legend or not, I silently prayed the upcoming events would unfold in her favor.

As the tom went into an almost continuous gobbling fit, I began to have my doubts that this was the bird we were looking for. He was much too vocal, and from the sounds of it, was coming in way too willingly. Occasionally I would hear a raspy hen join the conversation, which spelled potential disaster for us. But from the sound of it she was coming too. I knew that somewhere between the birds and our position was a grazing allotment fence that could also spoil our ruse. I held my breath and did my best imitation of a pair of lonely hens by alternating between my Primos Power Crystal and my Primos Boxcutter, in my opinion two of the best turkey calls available.

As I had feared, the birds hung up about where I figured the old fence line to be. Fighting back despair, I stepped up the urgency of my calling. Purrs, clucks and cackles rolled from my calls, followed by seductive yelps.

Whatever I said must have been right because moments later the gobbler sounded off to our left and closer to our hide. At this time I realized he was flanking our position and was going to approach from our left using the same road we had been walking.

I instructed Jamie to shift to her left and get ready.

Momentary confusion set in as I could clearly hear beating wings amid the deafening gobbles and hoarse yelps. The racket was almost indescribable. I wondered out loud if the birds were flying into our set up. I quickly realized they were indeed on the ground, but were running toward us so quickly they were beating their wings for additional propulsion. The sound grew so loud it was as if they were right in our laps, but we had yet to get a visual.

I was fixed on the first opening in the roadside brush that would offer a shot opportunity, when out of the corner of my eye I saw Jamie tense up. A fraction of a second later I saw the red and blue of the tom’s head through the brush. I had just opened my mouth to let her know he was more than close enough when her 12 gauge bellowed, catching me slightly off guard. I immediately lost sight of the tom, but could plainly see Jamie jumping up and down with both hands raised in the air. I didn’t need to ask if the gobbler was dead, but I did anyway. I can’t repeat her exact words, but they were priceless.

Scrambling to my feet I ran in the direction the turkey had been.

As he thrashed around on the ground… Continued on page 6 4

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WING SHOOTING CONTINUED I put my foot on his neck for insurance. All along I had been prepared for a two year old bird, basing my expectations on his behavior. But as I stood there looking down at my wife’s first turkey, I thought to myself he had an awfully big body for a young bird. I reached down and fumbled around for a leg. My jaw dropped when I exposed needle sharp 1 ¼ inch plus spurs. We live and hunt in steep, rocky terrain so large spurs aren’t the norm. I flipped him over and rough measure his beard at 10 ½ inches plus. Could it really be the bird we had set out hoping to find? I still couldn’t fathom a tom I know for a fact was big enough three years prior to this encounter to draw the serious attention of many good turkey hunters would be duped so easily. There was only one way to find out.

When we returned to my pickup, we shot some good photos then drove to my wife’s cousin’s house. Her husband had been hunting this particular gobbler for three years, and had spent every day of the first two weeks of the current season trying to tie a tag around his leg. He had given up and filled his tag with another mature bird. He would be able to give us a positive identification.

Mark met us in the driveway and the look on his face immediately confirmed my suspicions. I’m not a shirttail hunter so I had asked Mark if we could have a crack at this bird before we ever set foot near his haunts. This was 100% public land, but out of respect I had wanted Mark’s blessing. I now had mixed emotions of elation and some regret as I watched him stroke the giant gobbler’s feathers back into place just so.

When we got home, I wrapped the bird for the taxidermist and placed him in the freezer. It was over a month later when we were finally able to deliver the bird to the taxidermist. When she pulled him out of the bags she commented on his huge size. After hearing our story, she placed him on their certified scales. After being bled and in the freezer for a month, the gobbler still weighed an astonishing 28 ½ pounds!

Turkeys in our area face extreme hardships. Harsh winters, rough terrain, limited habitat and a myriad of predators make the likelihood of a tom living to five plus years old pretty slim. It is remarkable to think that this gobbler reached such proportions and status with so many variables stacked against him. It is perhaps even more remarkable that he met his demise at the hands of a young couple more or less out for a stroll on a sunny Mother’s Day afternoon.

Every once in a while I still take a moment to admire the half-strut mount. As I gently wipe the dust from his feathers, I can recall every detail of the hunt and my heart beats just a little faster. One day my memories will fade away, and eventually so will I. But the greatest wild turkey I have ever had the privilege to lock wits with will forever be immortalized by that mount sitting atop our log dresser.

Montana 2015 Turkey Season Dates Spring April 11—May 17 Fall September 1—January 1, 2016

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Ode to my Valentine

By Tony Rebo “Roses are red, violets are blue. Fishing is my life, but I wouldn’t want to do it without you.” Sounds corny, well maybe.

Valentine’s Day is just a week away and I want to take a moment to recognize my fishing partner.

My lovely wife of 18 years has become that special person. I have always had a boat sitting in the driveway, and yes, sometimes even two or three. I have traded and improved my quality of boats over the past few years, but never as much as when my wife became my fishing partner. She suggested that we buy a bigger boat, one that she would be more comfortable in. Now mind you, when she first mentioned this I thought it was just a phase. That was four years ago and my wife is still fishing with me each time the boat leaves the driveway.

The first few trips I have to admit were an adventure. My wife still can’t back the trailer up, gut her own fish, or pull the anchor. But my wife is always willing to listen to me rant and rave when things go wrong. She is pleasant and soft spoken, and her smile makes my day. I always have a sandwich and a fresh cup of coffee. My wife makes sure I stay hydrated in the hot summer and that I wear sun screen. She reminds me to bring extra shoes and socks so that I have dry feet at the end of the day. She reminds me to plug in the trailer lights so the highway patrolman won’t give me a ticket (not that that has ever happened). My wife is the first to congratulate me on a great catch and of course the first to point out her fish is bigger than mine.

As we float around the many waters throughout the state of Montana, I can’t imagine doing it with anyone but her. I still can’t convince her that fishing when it is below zero degrees is acceptable, but she always sees me off with a kiss on the cheek and a shake of the head and softly says, “You are crazy.”

Valentine’s Day is the special day when you express your feelings for that special person in your life. Many of my stories are about adventures with my wife and let’s just say how I remember the story and how she recalls the events are sometimes a little different. She is always the good sport and takes the high road. Someday we may have to have a story of he said/she said just to let the readers hear both sides. I have been blessed for living in Montana.

We have so many opportunities for living the dream. I just feel so lucky to being able to share it with my wife. Happy Valentines Brenda, thanks for being in my life and for sharing the dream.

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ANGELA MONTANA

Jason Maxwell teaches Angela Montana the art of fleshing a raccoon hide.

It's Never Too Late!

point. I was in love. Whatever it was about this bow that held my attention was all I needed. I shot, shot, shot and shot some more. I was fortunate enough to work with a couple of people who also were avid bowhunters, and they would take the time to go outside during breaks, lunch and after work and shoot stacked up hay bales that were brought in to use as our target, teaching me everything I needed to know about tuning my bow, proper form and shooting techniques. We would even drink soda and throw the cans on the ground (we would pick them up when we were done—I don’t litter ;-D), and I would practice shooting them to get used to what would be my first archery “hunting” experience—Canyon Ferry bowfishing for carp. Within a matter of months, I was ready, and my buddy and I went out after carp, successfully. I ended up getting a new bow with an increased draw weight of 55 lbs. for deer season and shot, shot, shot and shot some more. I studied the regs like a crazy woman and went out that fall on my buddy’s property to a stand we had put up late that summer, and although I didn’t get the buck I was after, my life had changed. I was officially a bowhunter. That eventually led to me meeting other hunters, including my boyfriend, who hadn’t ever bowhunted, but he did rifle hunt, and I hadn’t ever REALLY rifle hunted. So, I bought him his first bow, and he bought me my first rifle. I have, since then, successfully hunted whitetail and mule deer with my rifle, chased elk with my bow (unsuccessfully so far) and also still very much enjoy shooting carp at my old stomping grounds – Canyon Ferry. I was hooked.

Time went by, and the Captain from the Montana Outdoor Radio Show, who is an avid angler and probably

By Angela Montana sleeps with his fishing pole at night, invited my boyfriend It’s never too late to learn something new. Ever. As a and I to go out fishing with him. I had been fishing quite matter of fact, learning (aside from laughing, hunting, a bit in my life, but I hadn’t ever had anybody take the fishing, riding my motor bikes and trapping) happens to time to explain what we were using to catch them and be one of my favorite things to do. Not all sportsmen why. This time, it was kokanee fishing. We went to Lake and sportswomen grew up in a family of sportsmen and Mary Ronan and learned what the fish were biting and all sportswomen. As a matter of fact, nobody in my family about chumming. We definitely got them to bite. By the hunts, traps or fishes. I am pretty sure I don’t have a end of our hour and a half trip, we had all limited out, single family member that even owns a firearm on my and the last couple of fish were caught with just a mom’s or my dad’s side. But, that didn’t stop me from hook. After that, we made it to Holter with the Captain, pursuing my passion of becoming a sportswoman. Thank and we learned what the rainbows were biting there and goodness for those people who took the time to mentor how to reel them in—and we did just that. me throughout my life.

We limited out there after about two hours. Soaking in It all started with an old bow that was given to me by my the knowledge like a sponge, I was pretty excited to plan ex’s father. I was in my 20s, and I had never even held a our next fishing trip. bow in my hands, much less drew one back at that Continued on page 12 10

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ANGELA MONTANA CONTINUED We were invited to Fort Peck to do some walleye and pike fishing, too, but scheduling and life have gotten in the way so far, but that will be coming soon. Since then, we have taken our fishing poles with us on our boating trips to the lake and camping near the river. We were hooked.

we have harvested muskrats, raccoons, beavers, a skunk and a fox, so far. We have some pretty amazing people to thank for being so hands-on with showing us so much of what we know. We have even had some really good advice given to us from some really good trappers. We are so grateful to Toby, John, Joe, Bert, Bob, Richard, Denny and Paul…and those are just naming a few. Also, just as it is with hunting and fishing, it is just as awesome to hear trapping success stories from other trappers as it is to tell them ours. We can’t even remember what we did to pass the time in between the end of general rifle season and spring bear season before we became trappers, as we can’t imagine our life without trapping. We are hooked.

Where am I going with this? Well, here’s where: We have all been told to “take a kid fishing”, “take a kid hunting” or “take a kid trapping”...and we definitely should! Our youngins are the future of hunting, fishing and trapping, and it is important that they learn about all aspects of beMore time went by, and wolf trapping became a topic of ing a sportsman or sportswoman. Even though I had an interest to us. My boyfriend and I became very interestamazing childhood living off-grid and being exposed to ed in canine trapping, and that led to an interest in traps the outdoors at an early age, I envy all of the youngsters and trapping in general. We not only learned the ropes that are out there catching their first fish, tagging along of trapping while going out with other trappers who so while their folks are hunting and checking trap lines. I generously showed us from start to finish how to make wish I would’ve gotten those opportunities as a kiddo. I sets for muskrats, coyotes, beavers, mink, wolves, bobcats and more, but we also gained even MORE respect for just can’t even tell you how many times I have heard “I don’t trap, but I support trapping. I’m too old to try it our wildlife, as trapping is necessary, but not easy! We now” from 50 something year-olds, “I have always wantstudied the trapping regs and learned where and when we could go and we discovered the right lures to use and ed to hunt, but I just never had time” from 30-somethings when to use different types of sets, etc, and just like with or “I have always wanted to try fishing—it looks so fun, but I feel dumb going with people who have fished their hunting and fishing, we still learn something new every time we go out in the mountains. Between the two of us, entire lives”.

Continued on page 14 12

Join Montana Sportsmen For Fish and Wildlife!

Per Capita, Montanans Are Some of the Most Outdoor Oriented People in the World! Montana Sportsmen for Fish and Wildlife is Being Organized to Insure That Outdoors Continue to Remain Great.

Go to mt-sfw.org to Join Today!

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ANGELA MONTANA CONTINUED The fact is that it is never too late to learn something new—especially when it comes to managing our wildlife. Plus, getting more people involved with sportsman groups (such as the Montana Trappers Association, the Mule Deer Foundation, Pheasants Forever, Trout Unlimited, the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation and Montana Sportsmen for Fish and Wildlife) is an awesome way to do even more for our wildlife population to ensure that we are able to keep hunting, fishing and trapping alive in our great state. I am so appreciative to have been fortunate enough to not only be given such awesome opportunities to learn the ropes of being an ethical sportswoman but also to be given those opportunities to learn in one of the most beautiful places in the world—Montana.

So, the next time somebody says “I always wanted to learn to hunt/trap/fish, but I never got around to it”, be the one to show them how it’s done, regardless of how old they are! Take a newbie hunting, fishing and trapping!

Angela Montana’s Hunting Tip: As Elmer Fudd says, Be very, very quite—I’m hunting wabbits.

My father used to say that it’s never too late to do anything you wanted to do. And he said, “You never know what you can accomplish until you try.”

Michael Jordan 14

· FEBRUARY 21st @ 0830 - Trappers Education Workshop - Missoula Region 2 FWP Office Spurgin Rd, Missoula, MT · FEBRUARY 27th - MARCH 1st - Helena Great Rockies Sports Show Lewis and Clark County Fairgrounds, Helena, MT · MARCH 20th @ 1200 - Western States Fur Auction - Park County Fairgrounds, Livingston, MT · MARCH 21st - 23rd - Missoula Great Rockies Sport Show - Adams Center - UofM - Missoula, MT · MARCH 27th - 29th - Bozeman Great Rockies Sport Show Brick Breeden Fieldhouse - Bozeman, MT · MARCH 29th @ 1230 - District 6 Spring Membership Meeting - Havre, MT · APRIL 18th @ 0900 - District 2 Spring Membership Meeting - FWP, Spurgin Rd, Missoula, MT · APRIL 18th @ 1000 - District 2 Spring Membership Meeting - FWP, Kalispell, MT · MAY 3rd @ 0900 - MTA Board Meeting - Yogo Inn, Lewistown, MT See You There!

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