GOOD SEASON

I never grew up trapping, despite doing most everything else outdoors.  However, a few years ago my twin then 8-year-old boys came home from school talking about trapping and the fur trade they were studying in history.  They had lots of questions.  I decided one of the best explanations was to get out and try it.

I've tagged along with a couple friends who trapped and couldn't believe how much work it was to set and check a trap line.  I was also impressed with the attention to detail and how precise sets had to be and like selling a house trapping was all about location, location, location.  Trappers are probably more in tune with their environment than any other outdoorsmen.

Our first few seasons were good and the boys enjoyed themselves.  My daughter always enjoyed going along on checks, too.  My niece and nephew tag along as well when they're in town for the holidays.  We've caught the usual furbearers but never really hit it too hard setting only three or four times each season.

But this year the weather cooperated nicely for trapping expeditions and we made it out a half-dozen times.  I never set more than 20 traps, mostly targeting raccoons, in one location and usually left them for four or five days.  One spot that was extremely productive I trapped for 10 days straight. 

This season was incredibly successful, both in time spent outdoors and furbearers trapped.  I ended up with 46 raccoons, 16 possums, 11 skunks, 8 beavers, two muskrats, two bobcats and a coyote.  The rats and cats were our first-ever.  Diversity was enjoyable this year and I had one check with four raccoons, two possums, a skunk, a coyote and a 53 pound beaver. 

Five of the eight beavers I trapped were nuisance animals trapped for landowner friends.  Three of them came from a pond where they dug bank dens and compromised the integrity of a large watershed dam.  When the mid-winter rains came the dam failed and nearly drained the pond as a result of beaver damage. 

I ended up making $914 off the sale of my furs.  I probably spent a couple hundred bucks on gas and if I added up all the time and work I probably made about .50 cents an hour.  It's not really about the money, but rather the outdoor experience and a remote connection to the way things used to be.

The season ended yesterday and I'm already looking forward to next fall.     

OUT WITH A BANG

Goose hunting is a good time.  Living in and around an urban area hunters can take advantage of wintering goose populations that rival some of the wildest areas in Kansas.  I used to goose hunt a lot but now that I chase ducks so much it's taken a back seat in recent years.  We'll shoot geese and even set up for some while duck hunting, but it's not the same as field hunting big ol' honkers.  So when a friend, Craig, asked last week if I wanted to hit a field with him and his dad, Tom, I jumped at the chance.  

We met and headed out about 3:30 p.m.  A 20 mph brisk north wind dropped the real 30 degree temperature even more, but not enough to keep the wheat field from being a muddy mess.  We put out a couple dozen full-bodies and some Canada goose shell decoys and huddled into a make-shift blind of cedar boughs.   

Craig wasn't even back from parking the truck when a flock of big Canadas tried to land just outside the decoys.  Tom and I managed to bag one big ol' 12 pounder and the hunt was on.  The rest of the evening was spent working a few birds and I realized how much I'd missed field hunting geese.  By the end of the evening we'd managed to bag seven nice birds ranging in size from 8 to 12 pounds. 

But the highlight of the day might have occurred without a shot even being fired.  We thought most of the action was over so we decided to put our guns away and pick up a little before sunset.  As guns were stowed Craig hollered, "Look at that!"

I turned just in time to see a lone Canada land near the decoys.  Simultaneously, Craig and I said, "It's got a neck collar!" 

I looked at my watch and it was 6:03 p.m.  We all looked at each other wondering exactly what time legal shooting time was over (I later looked and it was 6:02 p.m.)  Despite never having seen a neck collared bird in the decoys we all decided it wouldn't be the cowboy way to shoot him after he landed anyway.  We all hoped we'd meet again.

They hunted the rest of the weekend without seeing the neck-collared honker and the season ended Sunday.  It's all good and hopefully he survives until next fall.  Who knows, maybe he'll show up again and one of us will be ready.  I hope so.
 

   

PICTURE PERFECT

It's often said if you don't like the Kansas weather just wait 10 minutes.  Our weather can be described as difficult at best.  And when it comes to winter fishing most anglers are at the mercy of ol' Mother Nature.  But this winter we've been blessed with some pretty decent days.  And that's just fine by me.

One day happened last week.  The forecast was for light winds and 60 degrees....something you just don't get much of this time of year.  So several friends and I made plans to take a couple boats and head to the lake.  As I topped the dam early that morning the lake was ice covered except for the edges.  Initially concerned I saw the ice was just skim and I soon found the ramp to be open.

I launched ahead of my buddies in the other boat and made my way to the main lake.  I dropped a couple rods tipped with jigs down and within 30 seconds had the first crappie flopping at the surface.  I thought to myself this might be a magical day.  We had 9 or 10 in the livewell before my buddies arrived. 

The fishing was good but not outstanding.  I'd caught more on previous trips but we ended up catching 40-50 whites and wipers nearly all of which went back in the lake.  The crappie bite was decent and we had plenty for a buddy to go home with a 5-gallon bucket overflowing.  It was indeed a fine outing. 

But the big winner for the day was the weather.  I don't know that the wind ever blew more than 5 mph. The sun finally popped out for good late morning and fishing in just a sweatshirt was perfectly comfortable. We said time and time again we couldn't believe how nice the weather was and we were blessed. 

I'll take more just like it any time ol' Mother Nature wants to throw us a bone.  Maybe she's trying to make up for 50-some days over 100 degrees last summer.  If that's the case she owes us a few more.  Bring it.

 

SIMPLE PLEASURES

The outdoors is indeed a special place. It's even more rewarding spending time hunting or fishing with friends who enjoy it as well. Oftentimes, it's not about the catch or the kill, but the day itself. However, that said, the days when it's just over-the-top good are hard to forget. Such was the case last weekend when the duck season opened back up for much of the state.

A friend of mine, Kent, joined me for a hunt on the river. He doesn't duck hunt much but he's grown fond of it and the scenery. We've had some good hunts and he was looking forward to it as was I. Legal shooting time came and went without so much as a feather. But it wasn't long and our company showed up.

Mallards and gadwalls came in singles, pairs and small bunches. We weren't particular and I gave Kent most of the singles and he dumped them all with a single shot. The action was steady and we finished up with a 12-duck, 2-man limit by 8 a.m. Our tally was two drake mallards, a wigeon and 9 gadwalls. But even more impressive was both our shooting percentages that morning. I fired just six shells and Kent only fired two that didn't connect. That's good by any account.

As we finished up Kent plopped down on his bucket and grabbed a Dr. Pepper and took a big swig. He let out the resulting "Ahhhh...." after a big, refreshing drink and said, "Dr. Pepper and ducks....it just doesn't get any better than this."

I had to agree.

WINTER'S THREE W'S

A really don't like winter.  Or more accurately, I really don't like brutally cold, snowy winters.  I'm perfectly content hunting ducks and geese in a sweatshirt and if that's the case there's a good chance my favorite fishing holes are staying open, too.   My apologies to die-hard ice fisherman but I like my chances better on the front of my boat versus staring at an 8-inch ice hole.  This winter has been a good one for my three favorite words that begin with "W"  and that's wipers, whites and walleye.

Each of these fish species can be caught on a number of reservoirs right now and the action can get hot and heavy.  Huge numbers of fish, along with some big ones, aren't uncommon if you catch the right day without a howling wind.  Even freezing temperatures of 32 degrees are tolerable if you dress for the occasion and winds are light. 

Most fish can be found in or around brush, on river channel breaks or other changes in bottom contours like points, jetties or near standing timber.  The best news is once you find one there's a good chance it's not alone. 

I like casting or fishing vertical with a 7-foot medium-light action spinning rod.  Favorite lures include any number of 3-5-inch swim baits on 1/4-ounce jig heads and spoons.  Contact with the bottom on retrieves or jigging is crucial as many schools will stack up and cover it in 15-30 feet of water.

Just a couple words of warning for this time of year.  The water temperature is in the mid-30's right now and a slight misstep can prove deadly in minutes.  If possible, don't fish alone.  It's a good idea to wear a lifejacket.  If your boat doesn't have a ladder, tie a rope with a loop on the bottom to a cleat that you could reach from the outside to aid in getting back into the boat.  As a last resort you can stand on the motor and raise yourself up with the tilt button on the side of most newer motors.  Be careful about footing around icy ramps and rocks.  A little caution will go a long way to having a safe and enjoyable outing. 

Good luck!
        

CAT SCRATCH FEVER

My kids and I have been trapping for a few years now.  We target raccoons, mostly, but have been branching out to gain more experience with other species of furbearers.  On the list from the start has been our goal to catch a bobcat.  I've put out a trap or two specifically targeting cats but up 'til recently have come up empty. 

So with a little time over the holidays my kids accompanied me on another journey.  We put out 19 traps and all but a couple were geared primarily at raccoons.  We caught raccoons, possums and skunks, although our totals were a bit disappointing based on past history in the same place during similar conditions.

But New Year's Day brought a big surprise when I went to check traps.  My boys had friends spend the night and I couldn't haul all of them on my ATV.  So my 19-year-old daughter, Ashley, who was home from her first year of college gladly accepted the invite.  She's always game for keeping me company on many outdoor adventures and we headed out. 

Midway through our check we found a skunk in one of our traps.  We neared the end and I feared we wouldn't have anything else.  However, when I rounded the corner of the creek to check the last trap I was surprised at what I didn't see.

The large tree branch that had my trap attached to it was gone.  Drags like this are commonly used as anchors and I didn't look far and there was my trap...with my first bobcat in it!

Ashley was as excited as I was with our first cat.  Although numerous and common (Kansas tagged more than 4,800 cats last season, the seventh highest total ever) these animals aren't routinely caught by most trappers.  I was fortunate and lucky to get one and learned that only 22 cats had been caught in Harvey County last year.  The 25 pound tom was a healthy looking specimen with beautiful fur. 

Ashley called home and told her brothers of our success.  They met us at the truck when we pulled into the driveway and wanted all the details.  They had to check out the cat and kept saying they wished they had been along, too.  I did, too, but it was nice to share the outdoor experience with my daughter as well.     

BIRTHDAY FISHING FUN

I celebrated my 47th birthday last Friday.  Normally, I'm in a duck blind or enjoying the day in some sort of outdoor setting.  I've had some wonderful and memorable outings on this day over the years and I'm always looking to make more. 

It had been a mild week and fishing had been good so my daughter, Ashley, who was home from her first year at college said she'd TAKE ME fishing for my birthday.  I've missed her over the last few months and remind her of that with a text every time I hear Trace Adkin's song "She Thinks We're Just Fishing."

"Oh, are we going to take YOUR boat?" I joked.

After three days of beautiful, mostly windless weather Friday's start was different.  The forecast called for big winds which don't bode well for holding a jig steady in a brush pile waiting on a crappie bite.  Plus, it was going to be cold with the wind chill.  I pushed back our departure time to about noon hoping the weatherman was correct and the wind would subside towards sunset. 

Ashley, a buddy and I arrived at the ramp and the wind was blowing 21 gusting to 32 mph.  Ouch.  Not many places to go to avoid it so we stayed in the cove for a while and tried our luck somewhat out of the wind.  Nothing.  An hour or so later the wind calmed down a little and we headed out to the main lake where the action had been good.  But my boat was still bouncing 2-3 feet with each wave making it difficult to stay on a spot.  Ashley caught the first crappie but her feat has an asterisk as she thought she had a stick.  The wind died a little more and I was able to control the boat.  But the fish weren't there this day and we only had a handful to show for our efforts. 

I struck out for greener pastures a little after 4 p.m. and found another likely looking spot.  It wasn't long and I quickly realized I wished we'd abandoned the original game plan much sooner.  The action was steady and all three of us were catching fish, mostly crappie but an occasional white bass or two.  A blue and chartreuse plastic tube on a 1/8-ounce jig head was producing well for me and Ashley and my buddy was catching them on black and pink.  I commented aloud how nice the weather was now and said it was "balmy."

"Seriously, Dad?" Ashley quipped just a little frosty after several hours despite being bundled up like a camouflaged Michelin Man. 

But she never whimpered and we fished until dark.  In an hour's time we'd caught about 40 crappie.  Our biggest fish were 12 1/2 to 13 inches and most were just nice fish that make perfect fillets.  They'd look remarkable sizzling in hot grease.  It was truly a beautiful ending to a very fine day.      

As I waited for my buddy to back my truck and trailer down the ramp Ashley and I chatted in the boat.

"Did you have a good birthday, Dad?" she asked.

"One of the best!" I said.  "Thanks for taking me!"