Memories

Family ties are strengthened by spending time together and participating in activities we all enjoy. In this photo a friend is teaching his sister to shoot a rifle. One can easily see from their expressions that they are enjoying the moment.

Good times make good memories;

Both are great medicine for the soul

Deer Season. The End

Although our deer season runs through next Saturday, mine has ended. This morning shortly after first light I bagged this nine-point as he was moving to his bedding area. This buck is considerably larger than average for our area and is possibly the largest I have harvested in my hunting career.

For most of my life Pennsylvania law only required a buck to have three inches of visible antler to be considered a legal buck. Starting in 2002 the law was changed. Since that time bucks in our region are required to have three points on one side and each must be a minimum of an inch in length. The effect of this regulation change has made it possible for more bucks to survive to become true trophy animals. At the same time efforts were made to reduce the doe population. We now have an improved buck-doe ratio and a much better population of large bucks although the total deer population is somewhat lower.. Not all hunters are happy with this change, but how much of a trophy is a yearling buck sporting three inch spikes?

I for one support and appreciate the efforts of our Game Commission in improving our deer herd.

Pennsylvania’s Rural Holiday

Of all the holidays celebrated in rural Pennsylvania, Monday will be the largest. This holiday is always celebrated on the first Monday following Thanksgiving. Schools will close for one to two days. Factories will close for as much as the entire week! Many other businesses will be closed also. The population of our county began to rise Friday and will reach its annual peak by dawn Monday morning.

Hundreds of trucks and SUV’s will be parked by the roadsides. All available camping spots on state forest land will be occupied and blaze orange will be visible in nearly all vehicles moving on our country roads.

What is the cause of all this fervor and celebration? Deer Season!


I now look back at my youth; deer season was a big event for me, it was the time that Dad and Granddad would go out before dawn and oft times return with a mystical, nearly supernatural, mythical creature from the forest, The Buck! The buck would be hung to be admired and later processed into delicious venison.



In this photograph I am posing with one of Dad’s bucks around 1960. I remember his story of how he dropped this buck on what had been my Great Grandfathers farm at very long range. I never knew Dad to take a quick shot, and he very seldom missed. Now with his advancing years he has no interest in taking another deer.

I began deer hunting in 1966. My Grandfather and I set out to hunt the woodlot on our family farm. Shortly after dawn the rain began. Soon it was coming in wind driven sheets. I had no rain gear and was soon thoroughly soaked. I sat at the base of a tree I had picked because of the deer trails running near. In the downpour my youthful patients wore thin very quickly and by 8:00 I was wondering just how long I could hold out! A few minutes later I noticed a deer moving in the brush behind me. In a few moments his head and neck appeared from behind the small pines. A BUCK!!!

I could not believe my luck! My little Winchester 38-40 was already up, the front sight settled in the rear notch, I trained the sights on his white throat patch, as if by magic the little rifle cracked. At a mere fifteen yards, I had taken my first deer, a small eight-point! I felt like a king! I had just accomplished a right of passage into manhood. I was now a Deer Hunter!

Soon Granddad and Dad arrived and helped drag my trophy out. With the rain pouring down, they were glad to call it a day and retreat to the warm dry house. I remember the temperature dropping and by evening the first snow of the year was on the ground.

We never thought to photograph my buck until it was nearly too late

That was forty years ago! I can scarcely believe that time has flown so quickly. I have never missed a deer season, never missed opening day and have never gone a year without harvesting a deer. Many things have changed in all those years, but God willing,

I will be there, In the Woods
Silently
Watching and Waiting For

The Buck

The Meadow Grounds Falls, Part 2

The stream is aptly named Roaring Run. As one hikes along it the sounds it gives off rises from a murmur to a roar. I noticed the intensity most when I had left the gorge and was most impressed by the stillness. There is such beauty along the way that a hiker must go slowly and pause frequently to admire.

A decaying Hemlock log breaks the rushing current

Smaller sets of falls abound along the path

A gorgeous shelf falls nestles in the gorge surrounded by large Hemlock Trees

A rivulet of water creates a spectacular spray as it crashes into the rocks

As when traveling to all wild places

Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints!

Thanksgiving Tradition

When I was growing up our family’s way of spending Thanksgiving was different than most of America’s although not uncommon here in rural Pennsylvania at that time.

Thanksgiving was hog butchering day. I remember our family butchering on Thanksgiving from when I was a small child, too young to help. We continued the tradition until my Grandparents passed away in the mid ‘80’s. Granddad and Grandma would purchase pigs at the livestock auction in the spring. Raising the pigs was Grandma’s project. She would feed them a wet feed mixture twice daily along with corn on the cob. The weeds we pulled from the garden would also be carried to them. They would grow quickly and by Thanksgiving would normally weigh 225-275lbs.

When we were ready to begin Grandma would go in the house and turn up the radio so as not to hear the shots or the squeals if the shooting should go awry. Grandma’s attachment to her hogs ended once this part of the task was completed. Being the sturdy farmwife, she viewed the processing of her pets into the winters meat as just another part of life on the farm.

We actually did the butchering as a two day operation, Thursday we killed, scalded, scraped, hung, and gutted. Friday was reserved for cutting meat, grinding sausage, cooking lard, and applying the first of the sugar cure to the hams, shoulders, and bacons. Mom would refrigerate the sausage keeping it fresh until deer season the following week. She would always count on her successful hunters to provide venison burger to mix with the sausage and increase the lean content.

The old butcher kettle heating up for the hog scalding
Note the scalding barrel in the far right of the photo

Pork, soon to be made table ready

With Thanksgiving being a very busy work day our family always postponed the traditional feast until Sunday. My brother’s wife continues this tradition, although we now call it the pre-Buck-season dinner. As for the butchering, I alone continue this tradition by purchasing a slaughter hog from market each winter. This year, as in past years since my mothers passing, my father will spend the day with my wife and I, and yes, we will have the “traditional” Butterball!

These photos were taken the Thanksgiving of 1971.

This was the only time I can remember that we had a deep snow to butcher in.

Meadow Grounds Falls Revisited

Today I once again visited the Meadow Grounds Falls. I featured this falls in my October 6th post with a photograph I had taken about thirty years ago, today I returned for the first time since that day. My mission today was to photograph the falls digitally.

Access to the falls requires a hike taking about one and one half hours. The path is adequate for persons in reasonably fit conditions. Some sections are somewhat treacherous and one must exercise due caution. The stream must be waded numerous times.
I arrived at the largest falls before the sun had found its way into the narrow gorge. Our temperature was hovering around the freezing point and when the sun did arrive it was most welcome.

The gorge is strewn with large boulders. In this photo the first rays of sunlight peek over a boulder. I can only think that it would not be good to be here when one of these decides to fall from the mountain side.

A veil of water plummets from the west side on the falls.

A flat rock, nearly as perfect as a precast concrete slab, sits at the top.

The Meadow Grounds Falls in all of her glory!

Pennsylvania Bear Season

Today was opening day of Pennsylvania’s state wide three day bear season. When I was young, bears in huntable numbers only existed in the northern most counties of the state. With the habitat changes and reintroduction efforts we now have a growing population of bears in nearly all rural areas.

Of all the game animals in Pennsylvania, only bear and deer must be hunted to control their numbers. Without hunting their population will grow beyond socially acceptable levels. Bears can cause considerable damage and can present a danger to the people who live with them. They will damage crops, orchards, bee hives, livestock, garbage cans and sometimes even homes. The hunting of them tends to remove the more aggressive animals who have less fear of humans thus reducing future conflicts




All bears legally harvested must be transported to a check station. There they are examined by Game Commission personnel. The bear is weighed, a tooth is removed, and hair and tissue samples are collected. The tooth will be examined later at the lab to determine the bears age.

A group of hunters arrived with what appears to be a bear family, a large sow along with two cubs. Although legal, I find the hunting down and killing an entire family of bears appalling.

A Game Commission Biologist interviews a successful hunter. The information he obtains will be entered into a data base. He will record time, date, and location of kill along with the hunter’s identification.

Once the check-in is complete a permanent tag is affixed to the animal identifying it as a legally harvested bruin.

The Whitetail Rut

High excitement prevails in the Whitetail world during this time of the year for it is the annual mating season, commonly known of as the Rut. The bucks are searching frantically for willing females while at the same time defending their territory and breeding rights. At times violent battles will ensue and injuries may be sustained. Most injuries occur around the face although occasionally a fatal puncture wound will be incurred.

This buck is exhibiting the classic gait of a buck pursuing a doe. Bucks do not display this posture at any other time of the year.

Although this buck has sustained a serious injury to his right eye it has done nothing to quell his rutting fervor.

On this evening our injured buck challenged all bucks that dared to approach “his does” and even a buck larger that he gave ground, willing to move on rather than fight this battle scarred veteran.

The object of all their fervor seems totally unconcerned with

“The Boys Problems”!

Early 1900’s Style

Great Aunt Grace was posing in Style in her father’s motor car

Grace, born November 25th 1906 was my Grandfathers youngest sister. Grace married Rinehart, a young farmer and lived out her years as a farm wife. This coming Saturday will mark Grace’s 100th birthday. Colon cancer claimed her life in 1964

The Watering Trough

Along the side of Pa. Rt. 16 are the remnants of this old watering trough. It was used to water horses as they stopped to rest while climbing the Tuscarora Mountain. Later it was used to top off the radiators of the early cars. I remember my grandfather telling of the days when it was made of wood.

The water came to it through a pipe from a mountain spring. When I was a child we would haul our livestock to market across this mountain and frequently stop on our return to get a refreshing drink of the cool mountain water spilling continuously from the pipe. On a hot summer day it was a most welcome respite before continuing our trip home.

I remember my grandfather telling that in earlier years it was made of wood. The watering trough was a very useful piece of infrastructure whose time passed as technology improved. I remember my grandfather once saying that he had seen man go from the horse and buggy to the moon. Now I look back and can only marvel at the amazing progress that I have witnessed in my years. I am sure that my stories of “the old days” seem just as quaint to young folks now as Granddad’s did to me.