Notes from the Puckerbrush - Archive
Portrait of a Predator
March 01, 2006
I’ve always considered myself an early riser, but along the way I’ve learned that early is a relative thing. When turkey season comes along in May, I feel like a slug-a-bed. It’s best to get out in the woods before it’s light at 5 A.M., which for me means getting up at 4. Unlike some friends who can just roll …
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First Hunt
December 01, 2005
I opened the lever action and showed my grandson Aidan, age 8, that my deer rifle wasn’t loaded. As his mother and grandmother watched us, I asked Aidan if he wanted to hold the rifle. He looked for his mother’s permission, which was granted in a nod, and held out his little hands. As he received the rifle, his eyes …
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Photo Opportunity
September 01, 2005
Fish for enough summers and you can’t help but accumulate some photos in the classic sporting genre: guy holding fish. If the trophy is a smallmouth, you’re likely to be hoisting it by the lower lip; if it’s a striper, you might still have it by the lip, but the fish could be the size of your leg. And if …
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The Hex Hatch
June 01, 2005
If you want to get a trout fisherman’s attention, whisper the words “hex hatch.” When Hexagenia limbata hatches in early summer, the event draws swarms of fishermen to the ponds that host it. The hex is the largest mayfly, and its annual hatch is an opportunity to catch big trout, which abandon their customary caution and chase these flies all …
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Thoughts on Love
March 01, 2005
All through the winter months, we’re treated to the sight of huge flocks of turkeys scratching out a living in our neighbor’s frozen cornfield. Watching 100 or so birds unalarmed at your car idling along the roadside, it would be reasonable to assume that nothing could possibly be easier than shooting a turkey.
And that would certainly be true if …
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Talking Bucks
December 01, 2004
I know that bucks grunt because, a few Novembers ago, I heard one do it.
The sound was both peculiar and somehow unmistakable, residing somewhere in the aural matrix bounded by a Buddhist monk’s chant, a bullfrog, and a ram just arrived in a barnyard full of ewes. I was lying in wait beneath a canopy of thick, gnarly pines …
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