Getting ready for deer hunting ~ October 30, 1997

David Heiller

My son, Noah, is going deer hunting for the first time this year. I bought him a license. He is 14, and because he is under age 16, he can shoot either a doe or a buck in our woods.

I will be going with Noah, but I won’t be hunting or carrying a gun. I didn’t buy a license for myself.

Noah

Most people don’t know that DNR game warden Curt Rossow of Willow River was the person responsible for letting youths shoot either a buck or doe (in areas where antlerless permits are given).

He told me on October 28 that it took his daughter, Heidi, seven years to get an antlerless permit. Now it’s possible to get one right away. Young hunters have a better chance at success, which will more likely keep them hunting. Thanks, Curt!

I went deer hunting a few times when I was Noah’s age. I used an old 12-gauge pump shot-gun that we had. It was in bad shape. The stock had electrical tape holding it together. Luckily it didn’t misfire and kill anybody. It had a tendency to go off on its own free will.

Noah will be following my footsteps on November 8. He’ll have a better gun—a Remington 30.06 that we inherited from Cindy’s dad, Gordy.

Gordy shot a lot of deer with it at his home near Thief River Falls. He died in 1993. Noah liked him a lot. So hunting with Gordy’s rifle will be a good thing.

I have never shot a deer. That may sound strange for a 44-year-old man who grew up and lives in rural Minnesota. One part of me wants to try it again. The rest of me knows that deer hunting isn’t something I care to do.

But I’ll do it with my son.

I doubt that grinding meat for venison burger was in Noah's fantasies of hunting, but it was the reality. 
We would have a big job once the hunt was over, 
and we all took part.

Noah and I walked through our woods last Saturday, looking for deer signs. We saw lots of trails, and a few scrapes. We even saw a big deer bound off ahead of us. We couldn’t tell if it was a doe or a buck.

It was nice getting out in the woods on a crisp fall morning. Now that most of the leaves are gone, the woods look entirely different than they did a month ago. You can see everywhere.

We found three spots where a deer stand will work well. At least we think they will. We’re not exactly experts, although we talked like we were as we analyzed the pros and cons of this spot and that.

A friend of mine, Dave, is going to come over this weekend and walk the woods with us. He has shot a lot of deer. He seems very willing to share his knowledge.

Last Saturday another friend, Bruce, told me in detail how to gut a deer. I didn’t ask for the advice. I figured I could muddle through it. No need to show my stupidity.

But Bruce could sense my stupidity, so he went ahead and gave a slice-by-slice account of cleaning a deer. I appreciated it. It will be faster and neater than my technique, and I can tell Noah exactly how to do it.

People like Dave and Bruce are going out of their way to help with Noah’s first deer hunt, even though I haven’t asked for the help. That’s what friends are for.

It shows how much they value deer hunting. They are both good hunters. Not only good shots, but careful and ethical. I respect that.

David

Lots of deer have visited our property this year. For a couple weeks during the summer, a doe would come to our pond every evening. We usually just sat and watched it. One time my daughter and I decided to see how close we could get. We walked to within 30 feet of it before it ran away.

Other times we got up in the morning to see a deer eating apples beneath the tree in our front yard. When we let the dogs out, the deer would dash away.

If you think a dog can run fast, watch it behind a deer. The dog looks like it is standing still.

Noah will be looking at deer next Saturday a little differently than he did this summer—through the cross hairs of a scope. He’s excited about that. I am too.

I’ll let you know what happens.

Mama Bear and her family ~ April 8, 1993

David Heiller

My friend Deane discovered a mother black bear and her three cubs three weeks ago. He had been walking along his creek on Sunday afternoon, March 22, and came within one stride of stepping on a big black hole in the snow.

He stopped and peered in for a closer look. He could make out a mother bear and what looked like three cubs.

I visited the bear family the next Saturday, along with our two kids and some other friends. We tromped through knee-deep snow, and had to leap over a narrow stretch of fast water. The extra work added to the adventure of seeing a bear den.

Her den was just a little depression in the grass under a fallen tree. There wasn’t much protection, once the snow melted. One cub, about the size of a terrier, had crawled on top of her and was bleating like a lamb. We could hear other muffled cries, somewhere under the mother, which is maybe why they were crying. It was bear talk for “Move, Mom, you’re killing me!”We stood and watched from about 15 feet. The mother knew we were there, she would lift her head and peer at us groggily once in a while, but mostly she just sat and shivered and tried to go back to sleep.

I stepped on the ice of the creek, which was about 10 feet wide, for some pictures. The ice was six inches thick, but honeycombed and not very safe for a 220 pound man. But you don’t see a hibernating bear every day, so I took the risk. I wasn’t worried about myself: the water was only about five feet deep. But I did not want my $300 camera to get dunked.

Sure enough, the ice broke away from the bank and started moving downstream. I tossed my camera to a friend on the bank, just as the ice broke into two pieces. I jumped to the larger floe, then onto the bank. Everybody cheered. I felt like Jim Brandenberg.

The following Tuesday, the creek rose to the bear’s den, and the mother had moved about 10 feet up the bank. The next day, Deane saw the three cubs up a tree. He did not see the mother, and didn’t stick around to see where she was.

That was the last we’ve seen of this bear family. Discovering the hibernating bear family was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, made all the more special because it was shared with some good friends and our two kids. Maybe we’ll see them again. (Hopefully not by my beehives.)

Some bear facts from an expert

I called Curt Rossow DNR conservation officer from Willow River, on April 4 for some bear facts. He was very informative, as always.

It isn’t unusual for the sow to have three cubs, although two is more common. These cubs will stay with her for two years. They’ll get chased off when she comes into heat and attracts a male suitor.

“That’s usually when they get into trouble, that first year when they’re away from mama,” Curt said.

They were probably born in January. “The reason I know is that we had a logger disturb a den west of Moose Lake a few years ago,” Curt said. “The mother had left and the cubs were really cold. We thought they were dead but we put them on the dash of the truck and put on the defroster.”

The three cubs revived. They took them to the home of John Hummel, a conservation officer from Moose Lake and put them in his warm oven.

“By George if they didn’t come around,” Curt said. “Then we did take them back and put them in the den. The mother came back and got them. She accepted them.” The first thing she did was move them to a new location.

Right now the bears will eat dried grasses. They’ll be looking for green things too. If they find a dead animal, they’ll eat it. They may also kill a fawn or small animal. They also like ants and bees.

Pine County has a healthy bear population. “They really have no natural predators other than man,” Curt said, although large males have been known to kill cubs. We have an ideal habitat for bears: good farming country with lots of berries, hazel nuts, and acorns.

Their range is expanding, Curt said. He is on a statewide committee along with other wildlife researchers and game wardens that estimates bear population, and how many should be harvested. Minnesota’s bear quota will be increased by more than 700 in quota zones during this  fall’s hunting season.

“They’re doing it cautiously. They don’t want to wipe them out in the quota area,” Curt said.

[Editor’s note: The information in David’s original article was obviously dated. I call the current DNR Conservation Officer, Dustie Heaton for more update information.]

Pine County currently has both no-quota and quota zones. If you are in a no-quota zone anyone that wants to hunt bears here can buy a license and do so during season.

If a bear is causing damage, it may be destroyed by the landowner. Dustie would appreciate phone call first if it’s not an emergency. They like to try deterrents first. If you do shoot a nuisance bear you have 24 hours to report it. Dustie’s phone number is (218) 485-4851.

Dustie sells the carcass so that the meat and hide can be salvaged. They don’t like to see any go to waste.

If you are a beekeeper, or have a bear creating other nuisance, call Dave Johnson, area Wildlife Manager located in Sandstone, Minnesota at (320) 245-678 for assistance.

Two milestones that touched the heart ~ July 17, 1997

David Heiller

There are certain events that make you realize how precious your children are. You experience these milestones gradually, one at a time, which is good, because it helps your heart heal before it gets pounded again.

I saw a couple last weekend, one from a distance and one up close and personal.

The first came on Saturday, when Heidi Rossow and Josh Eschenbach were married. I hate to use the words “good kids” to describe Josh and Heidi. It doesn’t do them justice. Maybe words like hard working, responsible, friendly, fun-loving, and compassionate would fit better. And they aren’t kids either.

But you know what I mean. They’re good kids. And I say that knowing full well that when I praise someone in the paper, they usually turn out to be axe murderers. Not this time. No way.

Bet on it.

Cindy shanghaied my handkerchief early in the service. She always cries at weddings. I never had, not even at my own.

(That’s a joke!)

But on Saturday, I felt goose bumps as I watched Heidi’s father, Curt, walk her down the aisle. Wow, he looked proud. Yet he looked as fragile as a wine glass. He was losing his oldest daughter—a good kid, no less—and he knew it. What a mix of emotions he must have experienced. I could feel them from the third pew.

Later in the ceremony, which was a perfect one, the bride and groom went to their parents and greeted them. Josh gave his mother, Glenda, a big hug. A lot of things passed between them in that instant. More than words can express. It was like Josh was saying, “Thanks for getting me this far, Mom. I can take it from here.”

And Glenda’s hug in return said, “I know you can.”

I had to ask for my hanky back.

The older my own kids get, the more I feel the bonds between parent and child tugged and torn and patched and hopefully strengthened.

Ten years ago, Heidi and Josh were sitting in church next to their parents, watching some guy in a white tuxedo grin from ear to ear as a beautiful woman walked into his life forever.

Ten years from now, maybe I’ll be walking down a church aisle with a glassy-eyed smile. Maybe Cindy will be giving the hug of hugs.

Malika went to camp that year and for a bunch of
years after. This is her in 2000, having fun with crayfish.

The next day, on Sunday, we took our daughter, Malika, to Wolf Ridge Environmental Learning Center for summer camp. It is her first summer camp. She picked Wolf Ridge out last winter, after getting a summer camp stipend from her aunt as a Christmas gift.

We had heard about this summer camp many times. It teaches environmental education, although I hate to use the words “teach” and “summer camp” in the same paragraph, lest we see a mass exodus from Wolf Ridge.

I’ve got a hunch it’s the kind of teaching where you don’t know you are being taught until a few weeks or years later.

Mostly it will be fun. There’s a rock climbing wall, and a ropes course, and an overnight trip in the Montreal-style voyageur’s canoe.

“It’s 34 feet long, Dad, and you can sit three abreast,” she told me. She had read the brochure carefully.

Mollie was a bit worried. The camp didn’t have horses, and campers stayed in dormitories, not run-down cabins.

She wasn’t worried about going there alone.

She went to camp alone that first year,
 but of course friends were made quickly!

That impressed me. I had always gone to camp with friends. No way would I have gone alone to a camp at age 12.

I remember being nervous and excited, two feelings that sum up life’s great jumping off spots, like summer camp and marriage.

Malika packed a bag and suitcase full of clothes and flashlights and boots and maybe the proverbial kitchen sink. It was heavy!

We arrived at Wolf Ridge early. We visited the office, and hiked the trails. Mollie got tired of that, and waited for us at the car. She was already anxious for us to leave.

I don’t remember my mom getting teary-eyed when I left for camp. Maybe she was too busy breathing a sigh of relief. But she must have stopped for a few seconds to say to herself,

“Wow, he’s getting big. What’s next?”

That’s what we felt as we threw Mollie’s gear on her bunk bed and shook hands with her counselors and gave our hugs goodbye. Chances are she forgot us before we got to the car. That would be a good sign. She’ll see us again this Saturday, and tell us about the friends she made and the new Hanson songs she learned, and a hundred other details, and maybe our hearts will be ready for the next big event.