Steph came home and she, mom and I went out looking for sheds. First we put up the cuddeback over the new trophy rock and then we made our own loops around through the cedars. Nothing.
We quick got out of there and headed over to the Bog before we lost any more daylight. By this time, it was probably 7ish.
We parked and walked north-northwest along the ridge for about a quarter mile or more. About 10 minutes into our walk (I was in the middle of us three), I came around a big jackpine and there sat a buck skull, plain as day. I had Steph's camera and took a few still photos before I called mom and Steph over to have a look. It had been there for a couple years and surprisingly there were no chew marks at all. A respectable 8 point, he grossed 112 and net 106". We continued on, but without any luck. We veered back to the east and out to the road. We covered an outside edge of the east side of the road on our way back to the vehicle.
Saturday, April 19th
Steph drove into Roseau around 11am and we headed up to the Hill again. Steph took a good nap while I headed out to the Bog again to cover some more ground. It's definately not ideal to be out shedding by yourself, as far as trying to carefully comb over an area, but I will take any chance I can get to be out there. Steph deserved some peaceful sleep anyways.
First off, I drove south and parked by the outhouse. I walked west into the cedar swamp with high hopes. But those hopes were left high and dry. Well, they weren't so much dry. I walked out with on good possibility for a bow setup this coming fall. Next, I drove up to the south side of the Salto Field and walked south to the firing line. I cut to the east and covered a small woods I've been curious about for a while. Again, nothing.
Then I walked west over towards what I'm calling the 'nook'. Well I entered the woods just on the north side of the nook and slowly walking west, I crossed the two heavy deer trails. I went a bit to the north and slightly west when I looked to my left and saw a mess of hair and a piled up carcass sporting a decent rack. this one was from this last winter and about half the hide was still on. I'm not positive if the buck was killed before the snow, or during the winter (hunting season vs. wolf-kill), but regardless, about a month earlier, I walked within 60 yards from it. I'm thinking it was burried in the snow.
After I shook all the beetles out of the nasal and brain cavities, I was able to cut through the remaining hide, twist the head off the spine and leave the carcass behind. I walked north and came to the longer 'bowl' and veered to the east and found another smaller 'bowl'. I caught a glimpse of a whiter-looking stick. I realized that finally, I was looking at a shed. Even though it was fairly obvious that it was a couple years old, I was glad to be rewarded and maintain trust in my 'worthless' vision. It was a 3 point from a 2 1/2 year old deer. It had a few chew marks on the G2. I took some photos and then noticed that the Steph's camera case had a belt loop thing on the back of it. So I took the long carrying strap off it and put it on my belt next to my buck knife. This was going to be way more convenient than having to dig the camera out everytime I saw something cool.
I walked through some more jackpines and briar and other fairly tight brush without finding anything noteworthy. I went east over the ridge, crossed the willow slough back to the Salto Field and finally sifted through the west end of the little gravel pits before I got back to the Jeep. I opened the jeep door and reached into my right front pocket of my jeans for the keys and when I looked down, the camera case was wide open and empty, well minus the twigs that had accumulated in there. NO CAMERA! All I remember thinking (and probably saying outloud) was "Frick." It was gone. I patted all my pockets and looked in every pocket in the backpack and it was nowhere to be seen. I debated retracing my steps immediately, but I was running out of time. We were supposed to go for supper with her folks. Not to mention my new blistering sore on the front of my ankle/shin (shankle?) was crying for a change of foot attire. Needless to say, I went back to get Stephanie and had to tell her how big of an idiot I am. But I needed her to believe me that we'd go find it the next day.
Sunday, April 20th
After the CHIC dinner after church, we got our water boots on and headed back out to the Bog. We retraced my steps as best we could. We crossed the slough, weaved through the briar on the ridge, zig-zagged through the big jackpines and walked down the trail with nothing to show for it. That little jont, made up for about one third of my previous day's venture. After spooking a skunk, we headed back into the smaller jackpines towards a line of spruce that I distincly remembered walking along. In the middle of conversation, I said, "Oh. There it is!"
Hanging from a branch was the little silver treasure. It never even hit the ground. Which explainse why I didn't hear it. Anyways, we walked a little more afterwards and Steph found a skull that belonged to a 1 1/2 year old buck that had shed it's antlers. Either a wolf-kill or he bled to death from shedding his antlers. But she spotted it first, so props to her.
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