Pursuits and pitfalls

By Mac Arnold
Editor-In-Chief

As I sit here on Tuesday, Feb. 15, going into the third week of recovery from ankle replacement surgery with the days dragging on, I'm wondering how I can get started on a new blog item to follow up on the 2021-22 hunting seasons.

Most afternoons take place in the kitchen post where I'm close to the back door to conveniently let the dogs out when needed. Seems like this happens a lot to my chagrin, and yet I still get burned by the 6-month-old Lab pup.

It's also where the speakers are located so I can stare out at the living room and listen to tunes. 

Today, I've already burned through my favorite inspirational Christian songs, and the Gordon Lightfoot channel on Spotify wasn't getting it either since I've had that on for the past several days in a row. Gord's cool don't get me wrong. The artists that I lean toward are those who pick an acoustic guitar and croon away.

Now I'm dialed onto the Kenny Chesney channel. Not a bad stop really since he sings about sandy beaches and relaxing hot spots to hang out all the while reflecting on life's pursuits and pitfalls. Good visions to have with the weather the way it is here in Northwest Ohio as temperatures dangle in the low 20s. The pile of snow that fell during last week's storm remains wherever you look.

The forecast is calling for mid-50s tomorrow (Feb. 16), so I may just roll outside and take up a perch to enjoy a bit of fresh air.

But what about the wrap-up on the 2021-22 hunting season?

Hold on, I'll have to put a pause on Mr. Chesney since he has me imagining I'm drifting lazily away with the wind on a boat (or in my case, a canoe) on a hot July day. That'll work here in a couple months. Trust me I can't wait to get out on the water and do some baaaaaaaaaaaaaass fishing. And I anticipate getting out more than once like last year since now we have a vehicle with a rack on top.

Hmmmm, so we'll end here on one of his best songs: "Better boat."

Now let's get to that fall-to-winter season where deer reigns as king.

Pretty uneventful except I finally did bag a deer -- a buck even -- unfortunately he didn't pass the Michigan Thumb camp standards, and I heard an earful with even a $100 fine discussed over my transgression. Camp boss is a stickler on the regs there -- even if he himself has done the same thing himself -- oops, did I say that? -- and bucks have to have three points to a side. This one had two. 

Frankly, the light was slipping away and I was really just looking for a nice-bodied doe to blast with the muzzle loader on Dec. 6. His head was down and one side was completely broke off. Reflecting back on it now I should've put the binos on him again.

Thing is, in the end, it's still a legal deer in the state's eyes. So I'm kinda happy and kinda not. And I have venison. Lots of it. I think in the future I'll only shoot ones there that rival the world record Milo Hansen buck.

Heaven forbid if you shoot a button buck. I mean I hate when that happens and take great pains to make sure that doesn't happen but it still does. Thinking about it now, I can't even remember when I've shot a button last so it's been a long time. Maybe the early 2010s?

And I can't even count how many younger bucks I've passed up there. Probably dozens so it's not like I don't try to follow the rules.

Put this scenario on Ohio public land and/or Michigan with it being that late in the season, I would have shot that buck all day long. Way I look at it, that's a trophy with the old smoke pole. And really that makes it more fun to me being it's a kill with a primitive weapon.

Especially in Ohio. I almost didn't buy a deer tag. Wasn't really anticipating going out but then I saw how the muzzle loader season dates -- Jan. 8-11 -- kinda jived with when I wanted to kick back before my ankle surgery and figured, why not?

Again, as in the last two seasons in the Buckeye State, no deer were seen let alone bagged. The last day out retired me for good this deer season as temperatures dipped into teens Real Feel with the 30-mph winds howling. I wisely trudged not too far away from the car at the Killdeer Plains spot.

As I was walking back to the vehicle I had this strange feeling something was clinging on my backside.Turned out it was my sweat pants had froze into lumps. I had been sitting on the edge of a wet bog.

I couldn't get inside the car fast enough so I could crank the heat.

That was enough for this deer hunter.

I haven't even discussed how haltingly my steps were walking along the grain fields in all the spots I hunted. My ankle even with a brace made any foot travel practically unbearable and nearly impossible.

Which now leads me to two epiphanies that came clear to me before and during the 2021-22 hunting season.

The first of which, is not really a stunner. I physically have definitely lost a step ... literally. And I knew this when my left ankle first took a crap in August that something was really wrong. Turns out it was arthritic to the point where the joint was completely gone and was bone on bone. Very painful.

I wasn't sure if it could be fixed or what, but the podiatrist seems sure with this surgery that I can regain most of my abilities with the exception of high-impact activities: no jumping, no running, no kicking the heavy bag and so forth. 

But I will be able to power walk, hike, ski (not that I have in years), and even get around on most outdoor terrain, which means hopefully I can get on with training my red fox Labrador pup for upland and wetland hunting. We'll see. Now that the surgery is over and I'm taking strides to recover, I am looking brightly into the future. I mean even just walking without much of a limp and painfree would be big wins.

As for the second revelation: I realized maybe I'm not the hotshot hunter I once thought I was. This really came on when I talked with a security guard at the newspaper where I work. He claimed to have shot 75 bucks and travels to a lease he has in Kansas -- home to huge bucks. He showed me the ones just from this year he bagged. I'm not worthy hahahahaha. Oh well. 

And here I am with 52 deer (not just bucks) notched in my belt with maybe one real nice buck, a couple OK ones and others just too small to talk about. I have done a lot better on turkeys, I might add.

When I first got into deer hunting in the early '90s, I fancied at aiming to be some big trophy buck guy along with my late friend Mike Phillips. Mike ended doing better than me before he passed in 2006. 

What this is all coming down to is that I'm pretty much a meat hunter. Poof! There it is. And many of us deer hunters are. I noticed when mixing up some sausage the other day how much I missed being able to do that. The fact is I hadn't shot a deer since 2017. I was in the throes of a really major dry spell.

So even if I would to like take down some real brutes, I'm just as content to fill up the freezer. Maybe another aspect I should consider is getting out to more places where there are fewer restrictions. But fewer restrictions don't always add up to seeing deer or having opportunities. 

In the meanwhile maybe I'm building a better boat. 

RTWO photo by Mac Arnold

Taking a  look around during the 2021-22 muzzle loader season on public land in Northwest Ohio. 

Special days

By Mac Arnold
Editor-In-Chief

I have to remember that these are special days as I slowly count down to normalcy. 

No, I’m not particularly happy about my ailments. I can’t run anymore. Haven’t been able to throw normally for quite some time now. (I used to have a rocket arm. Or so I’ve been told.)

But there is so much I can still do!

I’ve been taking a few shots at my hunting prowess or lack of it on this blog as of late yet I’m still out there and in the game. I feel like this is the year I score a breakthrough white-tailed buck.

RTWO Photo

by Mac Arnold

This smallmouth was hauled in in August on Michigan's River Raisin and came in just under three pounds.

And I didn’t post it on here back in summer but I boated, er,  canoed a pretty nice smallie all the while going backward down the roaring waters from the small dam on the River Raisin.

I’ve gotten through a rough two to three-year stretch where all I did was work and sleep while holding down two full-time jobs.

But I’m to the point where I no longer have to do this, and I’m not.

The thought of finally getting away from this leaves my mind so relieved.

It was hell. 

God got me through it. All glory be to Him on high.

Life should start being much more enjoyable in 2022. 

I think I’ll start it off by getting deep into the Ohio muzzle loader season, which opens Jan. 8.

Of course in the meanwhile I will still be hunting in Michigan's Sanilac County with the king of all seasons -- regular deer firearms season -- coming up next week on Nov. 15.

Talkin’ and walkin’

By Mac Arnold
Editor-In-Chief

Many thoughts are swirling about in my head lately.

This hunting season has already been a trial by fire with my troublesome left ankle.

I’ve been out four times since mid-September in three different versions — early firearms for doe, fall turkey and, of course, deer archery — all in Michigan and it’s been a real struggle getting around.

Walking on the hard-packed drive is not an issue, but get me looking for blood or hair in an dry, crusty soybean field or hobbling along a squishy two-track, and I’m barely able to stay upright.

However, that all could change with the modern miracle of this new brace I finally got around to putting on and giving a whirl. 

The first test came Sunday on the awful foot-breaking and mole-ladened yard while mowing.

Outcome? It was a success. I really was surprised at how much better I could maneuver around.

For hunting all I needed was a way to get both foot and brace into a boot. 

I’ve already bought one pair of rubber boots with the same result of intense pain after pulling my foot out of a tight muck-style boot. (Believe me, this bone-on-bone arthritis in a joint that is gone is extremely painful.)

Then there they were on the TSC shelf: rubber overboots! Perfect! 

You know the ones. The old-buckled black ones that would get you teased by other kids when you wore them in grade school.

But for my purposes I think they’ll be just what I need to stay upright while walking across a mushy cut cornfield. 

Anyway, so sadly, this blog has turned from an exciting see how the self-taught suburban kid hunter slams big game is now like a former challenging NASCAR champion relegated to riding around in 35th-place never really getting in position to vie for first place.

So all I can say is I guess tune in to see how this gimpy graybeard does with this improved outlook. At least I may have staved off ankle surgery, which is probably a good thing for now.

RTWO Photo by Mac Arnold

So here it is: the Breg wonder brace helping me along to mow Sunday.

Past notes update blog

By Mac Arnold
Editor-In-Chief

Written earlier this past summer:

Here I am at the end of another long stretch of paying child support.

Just thinking about it recently left me stunned when I realized it was 7 1/2 years this time. 

My youngest child — Zachary — turned 18 in August. 

Guess where I’m going with this is piggybacking off my last blog post published March 15, 2019.

Some of the rehash from that last post was how I was sick of having what I wrote about being used as ammo against me by my ex. 

That also should have ended in August but we'll see on that one.

Sadly I noticed that I had put up zero posts in 2020.  

RTWO photo by Mac Arnold

As promised, a quick glance at the 2020 hunting

log that I posted in the garage. Despite the small 

reproduction, each gig was noted on where and 

what was hunted.

But that really is more of a telltale of how busy I was working two full-time jobs. Beyond work at The Blade on the copy desk, I picked up a very laborious but decent paying job as a package handler at one of the larger shipping facilities. The corporation prefers discretion, and I will keep it at that.

However I was able to get out hunting — mainly for deer — more than I had in 2018 and 2019 in 2020 and even kept a pretty detailed calendar log. This may be worthy of getting shown on here even if it might bore most readers. But this is all things Mac hunts or has hunted, so I just may go ahead and do so. 

I had planned to post some of this spring’s turkey gigs, which had the best action in years. Mainly because I opted to pass on unfruitful Ohio outings and return to my native state of Michigan. If I remember correctly,
I got out four times to thee olde Thumb camp.

As I’ve long been saying: Great Lake State turkey hunting remains a downplayed golden nugget.

I’m hoping to put in some time for birds this fall

— before I get too obsessed over the white-tails
— and break up a bachelor brood party of toms.

I’ll be back on soon with what plans I have for the upcoming seasons. They certainly won’t be as 

ambitious as they have been in years gone by as now we will undertake Operation Restore Finances.

It was long ordeal, and I’m glad it is finally over.  Whew … relief! It’s going to take time to sink in that’s for sure!

Writing is life

By Mac Arnold
Editor-In-Chief

Writing is life.

Detailing what I've done in the woods and on the water is what I do, and I see I did not make a single post in 2018.

What a shame.

It was a pretty awful year all the way around.

As the wind whistles away outside the glider window in my fairly recent place of residence, I realize I never can escape the howls of a whirling life.

We moved three times in 2018.

It was unsettling. Too unsettling to write about? Actually, that is the time TO write.

It's such good therapy, although some might find happiness in my undoing. We all have certain people in our lives that take such pleasure. They are to be pitied. What a weak and feeble person they are in doing so.

Someday I will unload on what went down these past few hectic years of uncertain financial times. It surely wasn't fun. Or deserved, in my opinion. But that's how it went down.

We are climbing out of it ... somewhat. Anyway, that will be a story to be told when the time comes.

Being it's nearly four months into this year, I pledge to get back to the keyboard and document my outings in the great outdoors.

As busy as I am now, the time out is much less, that is true. And it will likely be that way again as some of my favorite times of the year come about: spring gobbler, baaaaaaaaaaaass fishing, bird hunting, and of course, King Deer Hunting. Which will be my top focus now that I'm in Ohio where I see many great beasts conquered on a hunting site I belong to. However, I did not see a single deer on the hoof in the three times I was out in Ohio last season.

Three times. I scoff at such feeble amount.

In years gone by, I would be out during the first archery season close to 20 to 30 times.

Seems also more difficult to train properly with the compound bow but I'm thinking it might be easier to find places to practice with the recurve and the Black Hole target. Covert places. (Whoa.) The main problem is travel time to practice locations with high-speed archery gear.

Long distances are not as necessary with the recurve, and I never take very long shots in the deer woods anyway, so don't judge me.

Even with all of the time constraints I've always got some type of outdoor event in mind. In fact I heard a midnight goose honking in the wind overhead outside just a minute ago and prompted a deep-sleeping Lab Augustus to my awful goose mimic call.

He barely budged ... LOL. Oh well. He will once we get on them again for real.

We still manage to practice retrieves even if it is in the street here at the apartment complex.

Hopefully today I will get to replace the Lynch's Fool-Proof Hen Call that went crunch during the fall season in 2018 when I had to bust out of a blind 12 feet in the air after stirring a yellow jackets' nest. I also ended up getting stung four times. Funny now yet not so funny then, and I was really hoping to drop a turkey after setting back up to shake off the pain. No, it wasn't in the blind. The wasps won that one.

With spring turkey season nearly upon us, I can't even imagine not having that call in my pack. Many a time a repetitive light yelp and cluck from that old box call would bring in a nice tom.

The Lynch's one is all I believe in so forget about the rest.

Happy days for small victories.

Howl on wind. I'm here to hear you.

What happened ... where we're at now

By Mac Arnold
Editor-In-Chief

So much time has gone on since my last post has been logged.

So many things have changed but I'm still here.

RTWO photo by Bill Brisebois

One of the better fish caught during our bass
challenge in July on the River Raisin. 

And yet blink, it's now the middle of the early goose season in Michigan with one already knocked down and cut up for the table.

Plus the small game and fall turkey seasons are now in full swing as of this Sept. 16 date that I write and detail what has gone on in my professional life and hunting and fishing adventures.

I will hold close to the vest on the professional life part because of agents of doom that still haunt my life and would love to hurt me, but will fully tell all of what's gone on in my triumphs in the Michigan killing fields and its magnificent bass waters.

Some of which I will have to play catch up as I get back to writing on this blog.

The latest success was a folly much like any "Rockin' The Wild Outdoors With Mac" follower would appreciate and laugh along with me at the silliness of it all.

For one, this goose rose up from the dead in our blind after I successfully brought it down Sept. 3. After much drama of hissing and clomping of its bill it was tamed. The best part of this harvest was how after three years, Augustus the bred-for-waterfowl-backwaters black Lab also rose up.

First with the initial take down, because it was mostly a wing shot. And as many bird hunters can attest, catching up with a bird such as a wounded goose by mere mortal man can be quite trying through the thick bog grasses. Enter the four-legged partner and that effort is cut in half.

Thinking after that episode it was at last dispatched, up it sprung a half hour later, stunning both of us as it tried another vain attempt at evasion but the black Lab was on his best duty.

As a doggie parent and a hunting commander, I was quite pleased.

***

With regard to the spring turkey season and summer bass action, both were decent.

RTWO Photo by Mac Arnold

As you can see from the final product, this 

bird wasn't bad but he wasn't the big boy.

I was left at summer's end still looking for that elusive monster smallie but one the better ones was caught during a friendly challenge with longtime childhood chum Bill Brisebois, who was able to click off a nice picture for me. It came off the favorite angling waters of the River Raisin in mid-July. The surprising part was the time of day it was -- midafternoon at about 2:30 p.m. (usually my least favorite time on the water). There may be another gig for fall, and I promise I will do a better a job of recording how the day ends up.

Spring turkey this May was another amazing experience at Dairy Farmer Dave's in the Thumb. For the second straight spring I was able to bag a long beard, but as is usually the case with the Gobbler Man, the giant of the bunch was the last to appear and it was not the one taken. I did have to act a bit hasty being the first shot with the H&R 20 gauge missed its mark and the bachelor brood was alerted to impending danger. This meant I had to make do with the dummy in front of me who was still very nice indeed with a 9 1/2-inch beard. But his pal that stepped out after the bird was dropped had my jaw hangin'.

As we know from previous birds shot at Dave's, the beards and poundage can go much bigger. It would be nice to make it out for fall turkey but with the new occupation now added into the mix it'll be tougher to take on all the prey. In fact, I thought I might be lucky to only get out once or twice for goose season. So far though it seems that isn't necessarily the case. Plus I have a client calling for goose breasts ... go figure. 

***

So what's on the horizon for fall here at RTWO? Next up toward the end of this month there could quite possibly be an Upper Peninsula bear hunt accompanied with some bird hunting since Augustus will be tagging along for the trip. 

Another part of the trip could include some baaaaaaaaaaaaaass fishing if I can rent a canoe or a boat on Manistique Lake, which I have heard has some awesome bass action.

Of course after this it'll all be King Deer Hunting once Oct. 1 hits and the archery season begins full throttle.

Look for follows at RTWO, I promise to post more vigilantly and let you in on the action. Promise.

***

Here are a couple of videos from the summer bass fishing outing with Bill. You can observe the candor of two old dudes who have been friends since they were 7.

Season wrap-up: Top hunts of 2016

By Mac Arnold
RTWO Editor-In-Chief

After nearly four months of insanity and mostly frustration, Michigan's white-tailed deer season will come to close Jan. 1.

Yes, sadly, and maybe with relief, when the sun dips below the horizon this chilly winter evening that is going to be it until mid-September.

The weapon of choice for this hunt by this worn, gray-bearded hunter will be a crossbow -- the same one as when the season began Sept. 17 for early antlerless deer.

There was some debate as to whether to go out instead with the freezer-packer -- the 12-gauge Mossberg slug gun -- but what if a decent buck chooses to come into range? So with that, the Parker crossbow made the grade, or at least we hope it does.

But most likely that is not to happen as few ... well, one antlered deer was seen on the hoof this past season, and it was hardly a nice buck. It was very much so a yearling buck, possibly a six-point, and if seen tonight it will be left alone to roam until next season.

So it is with this season wrap-up combined with a Top Hunts of 2016 post we hold promise for the new year with the knowledge that Michigan's lottery opens for Spring Gobbler from Jan. 1-Feb.1.

Goodbye 2016.

Starting in order from bottom to top:

No. 3: CAIDEN STAYS IN THE STAND -- It was all talk for most of the late November deer season with the 7-year-old grandson until we were to climb into the blind for that evening's hunt at the Sanilac County, Michigan camp. Once the young man got to the top of the ladder and a mere step inside the wooden enclosure, that was it. He was having nothing to do with it. "Whoaaaa, I'm coming down, Mac." Guess heights aren't his forte. But that's not how it ended. After a stern talk of "oh, no, you're a staying," from his Papa Mac, the hunt went on until dark. No deer came in to look over but some knowledge was passed on, and he learned how to use the grunt call ... um, ad nauseam.

RTWO Photo by Mac Arnold

While not everything might have gone to plan this

hunting season, we did bag our first mallard drake. 

And for being a part-time waterfowler, it was a

big deal. Augustus shows his approval.

No. 2: GOOSE FROM SEAT OF MY PANTS -- By early December, with the cupboards bare from few opportunities not only in the deer woods but along the duck pond, expectations were low as Augie and myself took point just outside the Monroe County, Michigan pothole. Despite the timing being right as many -- if not hundreds of ducks and geese -- picked up from their comfy confines inside the madly swaying cattails. The wind was howling on this day, but the only problem was our setup, which was back too far for a good shot. After a move to the edge of the pond, up went three mallards and once the Browning reported, one went down, which was my first-ever bagged mallard drake. A short time after that, a small flock of geese swirled overhead. While the others were wise to the nonsense behind the bush, one dipped in for a closer look despite the discombobulated hunter being twisted around to his backside in an effort to get a shot. So while practically lying down, with the first shot missing, the second shot rang true and down rained a goose.

No. 1: DAIRY FARMER DAVE'S PAYS OFF AGAIN -- The top hunt of 2016 was actually months ago on the very last day of May. Spring gobbler took me to three different states that provided a handful of decent opportunities but none of which that ended in a bagged tom. After mulling how to get the job done with the season down to its last days and securing a return invite from the Sanilac County dairy farmer, there I was back along the famous woodline where I shot my best-ever gobbler in 2010. Despite being late to the best place to sit for this hunt, the bunch of four or five birds that sounded off as I walked in eventually appeared with two nice toms in tow. Yet, not everything went as planned because the 1993 Mossberg Ulti-Mag did its occasional misfire gag not once but twice. That was enough for the wily big boys to say "uh-uh" to that and start turning around but not before one was dropped on the third attempt. It had a nine-inch beard and was pretty heavy, probably 20 pounds or better.