Tweetweek: A predictable bear editorial, a credit card company that hates hero shots, and NYT love

Not a slave to Twitter? No problem - here's my Tweetweek in Review:

L.A. Times on bears: I'm sure it will come as a shock to everyone that the L.A. Times just posted an editorial that takes the HSUS position on black bear hunting hook, line and sinker.

This is to say that the venerable Times thinks our Fish & Game Commission needs to back off a proposal to raise the statewide bear cap next week from 1,700 to 2,000. Instead, the Times says, it should take time to study regional bear populations to see if there are any variations that should be taken into consideration.

Granted, we do apply some special limitations in some regions on deer hunting so it's not like the idea is inherently freakish. It's just that ... hmmmm ... the HSUS's biologist suggested taking that route but for some reason didn't mention that there is really any hint at all that there are any regional bear population problems.

Given HSUS's propensity for, and considerable skill at, exploiting any advantage it can get, I'd think HSUS would've mentioned it if there's a sensitive population that warrants extra consideration. Funny, eh?

Then at the end of the editorial, the LAT recommends banning hunting bears with hounds because animal rights activists think it's unsportsmanlike.

Naturally, I tried leaving a comment on the LAT site, but of course, the comment feature doesn't seem to be working this evening. I hit "post" and nothing happens. No spinning wheels, nothing. So, L.A. Times, here's my comment, and I hope I don't see 17 copies of it on your site tomorrow:

"(T)he bigger question is how bear populations are faring region by region in the state."

Bigger question, indeed! Is there a region where we have some hint that bears, as a species, are in trouble? Do you really believe that if there is such a region, the HSUS, with its vast resources, hasn't heard about it? I looked for, but did not find, hint of it here.

"Animal welfare advocates have argued for years that this is unsportsmanlike."

Tell me, what do "animal welfare advocates" consider sportsmanlike? Could it be that they use the term to sound reasonable, when in fact, they not only oppose all hunting, but all consumption of animal flesh? I don't hunt with hounds, but nor do I look to people who oppose hunting for guidance on hunting sportsmanship.

Two fun facts before I close:

1) Hank and I are eating bear tonight - and this was planned well before we saw the editorial - but I think I'll have seconds now, just because.

2) I will give the LA Times credit: Last time they covered this topic (which I wrote about here), it was with an incredibly biased "news" story. This time, at least, the opinion is showing up in the proper section - the opinion section. That's where newspapers are supposed to take positions. It just so happens that I don't think this position was well-reasoned.

Speaking of HSUS: Gwyn Zetah-Meitin used to be a member of the HSUS, and she loathed hunting. The night she met Patrick Meitin, she made it clear she hated hunters.

"She listed the usual indictments against slobs who spotlight and kill animals out of season, are interested in antlers only as collection pieces, shoot roadside signs and toss beer cans from vehicle windows," Meitin writes.

"I smiled and offered my stock reply. 'We're in agreement then,' I said, pausing for her look of confusion. 'I hate them too. But of course, you're not talking about hunters. You're talking about jerks who happen to own firearms.'"

You can already figure out one part of the story by the way the woman's last name closely resembles his now. You can figure out another part when you see the title of the piece: "My Wife, The Bowhunter."

It's a long piece (said the pot, calling the kettle black), but well worth the read as it culminates in her first - you got it! - black bear kill. What she says about that kill at the end is something pretty much every hunter will be familiar with, but something the folks at, say, the L.A. Times would do well to read.

I really wanted to leave a congratulatory comment on the story, but the Petersen's doesn't seem to have a comment function at all. Hopefully the folks there will see my praise for the story here.

Why I'm glad I don't use my Capital One card anymore: Capital One loves to tout the fact that cardholders can design their own card, but when New Jersey cardholder Lou Hinger tried to upload a photo of her husband posing with a deer he'd killed, CapOne said it was "unacceptable."

The problem? “Sorry, we were unable to approve the image you submitted. We will not approve any images that contain the following: Violence, hatred, or cruelty to humans or animals, profanity obscenities or any type of death imagery.”

So, hey, farmers, don't you dare upload pictures of the cows you plan to slaughter. And foodies, whatever you do, DO NOT UPLOAD PHOTOS OF JUICY STEAKS! You sick, animal-hating bastards.

You can read the whole story at NRAhuntersrights.org, but - spoiler alert! - the good news at the end is that if you have an NRA card, you can customize it with your hero shots.

Shameless self-promotion: Hank's upcoming book, Hunt, Gather, Cook: Finding the Forgotten Feast, got a glowing mention in the New York Times last week.

I love the New York Times. The newspaper has shown incredible openness to hunting, and appears to get the fact that a lot of people hunt for a lot of good reasons.

The book comes out May 24, but you can pre-order it here.

Hint, hint.

Gratuitously funny video ending: I don't have time to cruise YouTube, but my students always turn me on to the best stuff. Like a baby penguin being tickled:



Have a good weekend, everyone!

© Holly A. Heyser 2011

Adventures in Easter Sunday turkey hunting

When your turkey hunting buddy calls you up and tells you he has a good feeling about tomorrow's hunt, you can believe one of two things: Either it's going to be epic, or he just cursed the hunt by expressing optimism out loud.

When Evan called me last night, I went with the former. Our last turkey hunt two weeks earlier had been a total bust, but we'd expected it. The scouting reports had been grim.

This time, though, Evan had two spots where there had been confirmed turkey activity. Lots of it.

"And one place is pretty close to the road, so the turkeys will think they're safe," Evan said. "But they're not."

Heh heh heh.

"I'm in!" I said, and I set my alarm for 3:45 a.m.

We met at 5:15 a.m. in a gym parking lot and headed to our spot. He hadn't been there before, but his brother had told him what we needed to know: You go uphill from the house, and there are two big bull pines that the turkeys roost in. Then there's pretty much one area they fly down to. Bam!

When we got out of the truck and headed up the hill past the dim shadow of a lone sheep in his little green pasture, one thing quickly became clear: There were way more than two big bull pines.

Hmmmm.

We crossed a few barbed-wire fences, tucked in under some oak trees at the edge of the clearing and set up, me with my shotgun propped on my knee and my head hidden deep under a hood like I was an Ewok or something, and Evan with the box call in his lap.

Within a few minutes, we were rewarded with gobbling. Lots of it. It wasn't coming from the tree we expected, but no worries! We seemed to be well within fly-down range.

Evan hit the call and we got more gobbling. Awesome! I aimed my muzzle in the direction they seemed most likely to come from, and scanned the rest of the opening without moving my head.

When the birds started flying down, they did not fly toward us. But no worries! Evan hit the call, and the gobbling edged back in our direction.

Then it stopped. Then ... Surprise! The gobbling began moving away. Farther and farther away.

Crap!

My hands were going to sleep and my legs were cramping. I was trying to hold still, but I began to squirm. I stretched discretely, taking note of how close I'd come to sitting down in poison oak. Awesome.

Finally Evan got up and motioned his plan - he was going to stalk the birds. I'd sit tight.

Which I did, for about five minutes.

But when it became clear the gobbling was moving even farther away, I decided to get up and follow him. There was little danger of being busted; we could hear exactly where they'd gone, and it wasn't close by.

So I began to walk. I caught a glimpse of Evan under a tree, and when I moved to take a step toward him, I saw a head behind a fence line, maybe 15 yards downhill from me.

I froze. The turkey froze. All I could see was the head, so I waited for it to move again, hoping it would hit a break in the grass that would show me what I needed to know: Beard? Pull the trigger. No beard? Stand down.

The bird started walking again, head bobbing back and forth as it moved right-to-left along the fence line. Every time it went behind an obstruction, I'd move in for better position, but when it would emerge, I still couldn't see the bird's chest.

Then Evan hit the call under the tree to my right. The bird stopped, turned around, and bobbed back to the right. Still behind the fence line. Still obscured below the neck.

It dipped down behind a tree, and I began moving toward Evan again.

But then it popped back into view. I froze. It bobbed to the left. Evan called. It went back to the right. It dropped out of view. I moved. It reappeared.

Oh, good Lord!!! We went through that drill easily half a dozen times before it disappeared for good.

I caught up to Evan and he confirmed what I'd guessed: It had been a hen. She had entertained the hell out of us, for sure, but she wasn't what we were looking for. So Evan set out again, heading the direction of the gobbling.

I followed at a distance, and before long I heard it:

BOOM!

He found them!

BOOM! BOOM!

Hmmmm. One shot? Good. Three shots? Not good. When I finally caught up with him, he did not have a dead bird in his hand.

"I was out in the open and they came up over the hill and busted me," he said. It was a long shot, but he said he'd figured it would be the best he'd get.

We separated and did a quick search to make sure he hadn't wounded the bird, then headed back to his truck. Maybe we'd get lucky at his second spot.

We pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road, and literally within about 50 yards, we were confronted with this:


Are you kidding me???

Evan stopped the truck and we watched five jakes saunter across the road, their tiny little beards sticking out just enough to say, "We're legal!" Then they ambled up the hill in no particular hurry. We just shook our heads.

Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?

Yes.

The answer was, "Yes." The next spot was a bust too.

Oh well.

We compared calendars. Maybe we could get out one more time before gun season ends a week from today. And this time, we have a detailed plan. We know exactly what we're going to do.

We're optimistic.

© Holly A. Heyser 2011

Women's hunting and shooting events

If you're a woman who wants to try out shooting or hunting, or if you know a woman who'd like to give it a try, break out your calendar, because the event season is upon us.

Below are some great opportunities coming up in Northern California, and if you don't live in NorCal, I've got two good places for you to start a search for something closer to home: 1) Check out the NRA's Women on Target Instructional Shooting Clinics. 2) Check out Becoming an Outdoors Woman. Both programs are highly regarded.

And if you're just looking to complete your hunter education course, there are plenty of resources: The International Hunter Education Association details the requirements throughout the U.S. and Canada. The California Department of Fish and Game has a page with extensive information, including advanced hunter education and how to become an instructor, and California Hunter Safety Course is a DFG-approved private provider of an online course. Just keep in mind that while you can begin study online at your convenience, you will be required to attend a class and take a written exam to receive your hunter education certificate.

MAY

Women's Shooting Clinic, Jackson: This day-long event offered by the True Sportsman Club features gun-safety workshops and training with handguns, rifles and shotguns. I've been to this one before, and it's excellent for beginners - a great introduction for a woman new to firearms - but also fun if you just enjoy shooting with other women.

It runs from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Sunday, May 15. Cost is $25, which includes breakfast snacks, gourmet lunch, ear and eye protection, ammunition and targets. Pre-registration is required, and you can register by calling Kathleen Lynch at 209-267-0385, or email her at rklynch@centralhouse.net. (Click here to read about the clinic I attended a few years ago.)

JUNE

NRA Women on Target Instructional Shooting Clinic, Lincoln: The NRA puts on high-quality programs, so this clinic, which will focus on shotgun shooting, is sure to be good.

The event will be held at the Coon Creek Trap & Skeet Club on June 18. Cost is $85, and take note: Preregistration deadline is May 18. For information, contact Patricia McLelland-Merydith by calling 530-852-9719 or emailing wot.patricia@yahoo.com.

SEPTEMBER

Cal Waterfowl Women's Hunter Camp, Solano County: This is one of those amazing opportunities where women can complete their hunter education, get shooting instruction and practice and go on their first hunt (a pheasant hunt), all in one weekend. I've been to this one twice and have made some good friends there - I highly recommend it. (Click here to read what I wrote about last year's event.)

The camp (it's really a day camp - no accommodations provided) will be held on Saturday Sept. 24 and Sunday Sept. 25 at the Birds Landing Hunting Preserve. Cost is $200, which covers lunches, hunting license and upland game bird stamp, targets, shells and loaner guns for those who don't have their own. Participants are required to do 4-6 hours of self-study in advance of the camp. For information, call 916-275-0961, or click here for information.

OCTOBER

Cal Waterfowl Mother/Daughter Hunter Camp, Sutter County: What a cool idea! I haven't done this one before, but if Cal Waterfowl's doing it, you know it's going to be good - they're total pros. This camp includes hunter education, shooting and other hands-on activities.

The event will be held Friday Oct. 7 through Sunday Oct. 9 at Montna Farms in Sutter County. Cost is $150 apiece, which covers overnight lodging, meals, targets, shells and loaner guns for those who need them. For information, call 916-275-0961.

NOVEMBER

Women's Duck Hunting Weekend, Red Bluff: Designed for women 21 and older who already have a hunting license, this three-day event sponsored by Delta Waterfowl starts with a wine and gourmet duck reception, duck cooking demos, shooting coaching and practice and waterfowl ID instruction at Red Bank Outfitters, and it culminates with participants going on mentored hunts at private clubs throughout the Sacramento Valley.

The event runs Friday, Nov. 11 through Sunday Nov. 13. Cost is $175, and accommodations are included. Signups are limited to 25 participants. I'll update here and write another post when signups begin. (And I will know, because I'm one of the organizers.)

Ladies, there are lots of opportunities to get started, so let's make this the year it happens for you.

© Holly A. Heyser 2011

Nature, struggle and the irrational impulse to take sides

Something was different at Lake Natoma on Sunday.

It wasn't just that the grass had gotten a lot taller, though that certainly had a huge effect on my weekly hike. The wild oats were up to my waist in places, and I could hear from the way they rustled in the wind that they had already started to dry out - a first step toward painting the hillsides gold for the summer.

I was more than a little bit nervous as I tried to find my deer trails in this stuff - it's plenty warm enough for rattlesnakes to be a concern. So I abandoned all attempts at stealth and made as much noise as possible to avoid catching one by surprise. I hear that never ends well.

The funny thing was that despite making all kinds of noise, I kept catching game by surprise.

When I rounded a corner at the top of one hill, there were two toms with enormous, ground-scraping beards about 20 yards ahead. They boogied into the grass and down the hill, their blood-red heads bobbing through the grass so obviously that I could have killed them both easily, had I been able to carry a shotgun.

A hundred yards beyond that, I startled a hen turkey, though she was further ahead than the boys, and she hightailed it out of my range pretty quickly. Fifty yards beyond that, I startled a dove that sat on a well-worn path just a few feet in front of me - how could he have let me get so close?

And so it continued. This was obviously the day we should have gone turkey hunting with our friend Evan, not last weekend. Something was definitely in the air.

For the final stretch of my hike, I connected to a well-traveled asphalt bike path and I hadn't gone more than 100 yards when a shape under an oak tree caught my eye. A turkey shape. Ten yards away.

I stopped and stared. It was definitely a hen turkey. Her wings drooped a bit and her eyes were closed.

Sleeping?

Then she took a step, very slowly, eyes barely open. Then another.

Something wasn't right. To test my theory, I stepped off the bike path into the shade of the oak, maybe seven yards from her now. She didn't move. I sat back on my heels and watched.

Something was really wrong - there's no way a hen turkey would let me get this close. She looked like she had been poisoned. Who would poison a turkey? I didn't think turkeys would even eat the kinds of poisons that people leave out for mammalian vermin.

I watched some more.

That's when I heard the sound to my right. I instantly had a pretty good idea what it was. Most sounds come from a single point, so when you hear a sound that comes from many points along a line all at once, what you have is a snake in the grass.

I looked away from the turkey and quickly zeroed in on a part of the body slithering past me - away from the turkey, toward a pile of branches next to the bike path, almost close enough to touch.

Body: Not huge.

Head or tail? Saw the head first, its tongue flicking rapidly.

I was pretty sure I recognized it, but I'd need to see the tail to confirm. Wait, wait, wait ...

Yup, rattler. Not the biggest I've ever seen, but I counted five or so beads on the rattle, so it was pretty mature. And did I mention how close it was? Yeah, close enough that it could've struck before I knew what happened if I had provoked it, intentionally or unintentionally.

So I just sat there and watched.

And then I wondered: Was it fleeing the scene of the crime?

I can't imagine a 5-year-old rattler choosing a turkey for a meal. But here I had a turkey that looked like a victim of poison, and a poisonous snake slithering from the scene.

And it upset me. Watching that hen was like watching an animal I've just shot: I put myself in her head, fighting the losing battle. "Sweetie, you are doomed," I thought, sadly.

Then I wondered whether she'd laid eggs yet. I'd come across lots of empty shells during my hike, so I knew birds of some sort were hatching (or being stolen and eaten). If she had laid eggs already, would this rattlesnake have cost her her whole family's life?

That got my maternal instincts going. "Protect babies, at all costs." That's serious genetic coding right there. Not that it did anyone any good.

It was easy to see, in that moment, how non-hunters view us and what we do. I knew, rationally, that if in fact that rattlesnake had bitten this turkey, that it was just how life works. We all feed off of each other. We all cause pain.

But no amount of logic was going to keep me from taking sides, because one animal in front of me was suffering, and the other was not. Despite the fact that if I had encountered this hen in the fall in a place where I could hunt, I might be celebrating having killed her instead of mourning the end of her life.

I don't know that there's any grand message to take away from this. It is what it is.

Perhaps it's just a simple reminder that, to many people, even to those who intellectually understand and accept what we do, we hunters are the snakes in nature's life-and-death struggle.

Does it mean we shouldn't continue playing a role that we have played for hundreds of millenia? Nope. We are what we are.

I guess it just means we shouldn't be surprised by how others see us.

© Holly A. Heyser 2011

Cazadora's Top Tweets: Crap in the gene pool, a dead little stallion and dolphins cuddling a cat

Tweetweek in review:

A dumb ad: How about a nice big raspberry for Dodge for its really stupid ad on YouTube for the 2011 Ram Outdoorsman?

What's wrong with it?

It features a guy who's camping out under the stars. He's trying to sleep, but some crickety thing keeps chirping, keeping him awake. So he gets up, grabs a compound bow from the handy storage compartment in his truck, and shoots the chirping thing.

When he returns to his sleeping bag to enjoy the peace, a frog starts croaking, and the ad leaves us to believe he's going to get up and kill that, too. Get it? Bother a hunter and he will hunt you down and kill you.

This is not the worst image of hunters I've ever seen. I just hate it when people on "our side" project an image of hunters that makes us look like a bunch of 7-year-old boys who can't stop ourselves from shooting everything that moves. It's just not helpful.

Thanks to Peebs for bringing this one to my attention.

Please remove this person from the gene pool: Some moron videoed himself on a snowmobile chasing a moose. The moose runs and runs and runs and finally stops and nearly head-butts the idiot.

Almost all of the comments on the video are pretty caustic - deservedly so.

I don't own a snowmobile or an ATV and I doubt that I ever will, so I don't take personal umbrage at what this idjit has done to besmirch the reputation of snowmobilers.

I just think he's a jerk, and I hope he never procreates.

Thanks to Chas Clifton at the Southern Rockies Nature Blog for bringing this one to my attention.

Wolf-dog hybrids kill miniature stallion: Apparently, there are a bunch of wolf-dog hybrids running around Riverside County, and one of them killed and ate a miniature horse, maybe 30 inches high at the shoulders, right in front of a rancher.

See the problem here? The fearlessness of a domestic animal, the instincts of a wild one? Hide your kids, folks.

Of course, that fearlessness turned out to be a problem for one of the wolf-dogs, because one of the ranch hands promptly shot it. But a second wolf-dog got away after taking a few rounds himself.

According to the Riverside Press-Enterprise story, "Wolf-dog hybrids are dogs that have been bred with wolves or wolf mixes. Detractors describe them as being wild and unpredictable, but supporters say they are good around people."

Thanks to @alquackenbush at the SoCal Bowhunter for Tweeting this one first.

Good news: A win against HSUS! A federal judge rejected a lawsuit by the Humane Society of the United States that attempted to end hunting at more than 50 national wildlife refuges, according to a story in Ammoland.

If you're like me and like more than one source for your news, you'll find there wasn't much written about Wednesday's decision. The only other substantive piece I could find was this story by the Courthouse News Service.

Something to make you go "Awwwwwww!" You know how I love my kitties, so I couldn't resist this sweet little video of a cat engaging tenderly with some dolphins.



It's a really touching video, and I wasn't surprised to see the following comment on the YouTube page: "I believe Heaven is just what I saw, all the creatures getting along."

Apparently this person wasn't aware that dolphins - like humans - can be cute one moment, then hungry for meat the next:



Ah, life in all its glory!

© Holly A. Heyser 2011