THEY’VE GOT MY NUMBER

I dispose of most of the pelts from the animals I capture on my trap line each season either by selling them directly to the itinerant fur buyer who runs a route several times each year through my area; or, I take them to a drop off point where a representative from North American Fur Auctions stops to pick up pelts which will eventually be sold at auction.

Could you guess what is in these bundles?

At the end of the season there always seems to be a small pile of pelts which, for one reason or another, didn’t make it into the normal distribution stream. Those I bundle up and mail to a NAFA depot.

There are regulations in effect by the U.S. Postal Service detailing items which are not permitted to be sent through the mail. No doubt some of these are reasonable, others, somewhat dubious; and no doubt, a few that are obscure to most postal customers.

I’ve never been a good “guesser” of what’s inside a wrapped package. Christmas is always a source of surprise for me. Perhaps one of the qualifications to be a Postmaster is a requirement to be a good guesser. At least the Postmasters in the two Post Offices nearest me are that way.

I don’t know exactly what I’d “guess” was inside the bundle I hauled into the post office, if I’d not packed it myself. I stack the pelts tightly in a large, “plastic-burlap” sack, then roll up the bundle, securing it with bands of duct tape. They could be crafts, an old army cot, a couple of those pop-open canvas lawn chairs or probably a hundred other things.

So I was completely caught off guard when I stepped up to the window and the Postmaster points at my bundle and says, “You don’t have any dead animals in there, do you?”

Not knowing the regulations, I quickly surmised that being completely truthful could lead to problems. So I was evasive. “You’ve got my number, don’t you Marty!” That was 2011.

Yesterday, I went to a different post office. Postmaster (don’t call me Post-mistress) Amy was at the counter. She sized up my bundles and said, “Do I really want to know what’s in those packages?”

Busted two years in a row!  How do they know?

NEW INVASIVE SPARKS CONSPIRACY

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST IS TONGUE IN CHEEK, SATIRE, IRREVERENT, AND HAS ONLY A SMALL AMOUNT OF TRUTH TO IT.  YOU JUDGE HOW MUCH.....

I received a News Release from the Indiana DNR this morning and also saw a posting on Facebook, that a Hooded Crane (native to Asia) has been spotted at Indiana’s Goose Pond Fish and Wildlife Area. Despite the DNR’s seeming acceptance of this, if not downright joy, this can’t be good news.

What the DNR calls a “wayward visitor,” I recognize as something more insidious. At best it’s another invasive species; at worst, it’s the latest ploy by anti-hunting groups to eliminate or curb legal hunting activities by American Sportsmen.

Let’s examine some facts. The hooded crane is native to Asia. Most of Asia is owned or under the control of China. Nothing good ever came from Asia. Asian carp, Asian honeysuckle, Asian elm trees, Asian lady-bug-beetles, tofu, bird flu - it’s a long list - many of them listed on noxious invasive species lists, others that should be listed. How can this Asian crane be any better? What havoc to native crane populations and wild ecosystems will this newest “alien” wreak?

The DNR release speculates the crane will migrate back to its Asian home in the spring. Want to make any bets that it will be back next winter and bring along some of its hooded crane buddies?

Right now the crane is hanging with flocks of sandhill cranes. The number of sandhill cranes in North America is huge. So huge, that there’s an effort afoot to re-establish long banned hunting seasons for sandhill cranes in more than the few western states where they are currently legal.

Who is the major opponent of legalizing crane hunting? Anti-hunters and bird watchers (who are often one and the same.)

Why is the DNR celebrating the Asian crane at Goose Pond? Because it attracts birders! News of the crane’s arrival is hardly out and already more than 100 bird enthusiasts have visited the property from as far away as Minnesota, West Virginia and Nebraska - thousands more are expected.

Sandhill crane hunting is legal in some states. 

Do you suppose intermingling “rare” Asian cranes into flocks of sandhill cranes is going to help or hinder efforts to legalize crane hunting in Indiana?

Since Indiana was first explored over 200 years ago, a total of zero Asian cranes have been noted in the state. Which is more likely? A) One Asian crane has boldly flown to where no other Asian crane has ever flown before; or B), the HSUS (with an annual budget larger than any state’s DNR) smuggled some hooded cranes to the US and stocked them in states considering sandhill crane seasons?

I LIKE FEBRUARY!

Although there are outdoor opportunities galore for those who opt to participate during the winter months, few are done without a lot of effort. Often times, the effort to participate is a part of the experience and though peripheral, is as good a measure of success as any.

For instance, last winter I traveled to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in the dead of winter to ice fish on a snowy, wind-blown lake. The goal may have been to catch enough perch to provide protein for dinner that evening, but comfort and survival were just as important.

But that doesn’t mean I truly love winter. I endure it.

That being the case, why is February one of my favorite months? Both of my children, my mom, George Washington and Abe Lincoln were all born in February. Does that make it a favorite?

Ground Hog Day and Valentines Day fall in February. Am I all in for these holidays?  No, and it’s not Superbowl Sunday or the quadrennial celebration of Leap Year day.

It’s because February holds promise.

There’s no promise to December. It’s as likely to be cold and snowy on December first as it is on New Year’s Eve. January is worse. Regardless of what the weather is like when you get up on January first, you know there’s every chance the weather will be worse on January thirty-first.

Jump ahead to March. It’s no better. The adage of coming in like a lamb, out like a lion or vice versa is true. Weather reports for March first and thirty-first are often similar or it’s just as likely to be more inclement at the end of the month than at the beginning. For warm weather fans, March holds no promise.

But February is full of promise! It’s the beginning of the end of winter. If it’s below zero on the last day of January, it’s just as likely to be as cold on the first day of February. But it’s not likely to be that cold at the end of the month.

Sure February weather will produce winter doses of bone-chilling cold, wind-chills, sleet and snow. But it will also feature increasing numbers of days with bright sun and thawing temperatures. Most important, the trend is upward. As the month progresses, winter wanes and summer gains.

Don’t hang up your winter parka. Don’t bother getting out your flyrod. But each February morning, face the day knowing the end of winter approaches.

WAKING UP

The beginning of this story is a footnote to the story below. When Molly is in the house, her favorite daytime spot is on a throw rug by the sliding door leading out to the patio/deck area. South facing, she stays warm there on sunny days; but more importantly, it gives her a view of the bird feeder so she can keep an eye out for rogue squirrels infiltrating. 

Usually, when she heads out from that door, it’s a beeline to the base of the feeder or to the bottom of whatever tree she believes is most likely to harbor a squirrel. Recently, however, she’s made a stop by a large, decorative rock positioned adjacent to the steps leading down from the deck. I’d never seen anything there, but perhaps a squirrel had sat there, taunting her sometime earlier. 

Late afternoon, on January 28, I learned what had captured her interest. Perched on the rock was a Tamias striatus, an Eastern Chipmunk. 

“Go figure,” I thought to myself. “I thought chipmunks were true hibernators in that they stored up fat reserves in the fall, burrowed deep below the frost line and spent the winter months snoozing."

I’ve never lived where chipmunks were an abundant yard animal, and even here, though I’d spotted a chippy or two around the fringe of our yard, the population isn’t large. Maybe people who have healthy populations of chipmunks aren’t be surprised to see them out foraging in winter.

A quick check on the Internet proved to me I’m only partly right. Some animals such as bats or woodchucks truly hibernate. Their metabolic functions slow to near death and they live off of stored fat reserves all winter long. If you were to find one, you’d think them dead or at least unconscious. 

Other animals “almost hibernate” such as bears. These animals hunker down for the winter, their metabolism slows modestly, but they don’t often stir, feed or leave their burrow. 

Chipmunks have evolved in another direction. They don’t bulk up with fat reserves for the winter; rather, they store seeds and other foodstuffs in their underground burrows and then wake from their winter torpor when they get hungry. 

Now that’s the way to spend winter. Stay in a warm nest with plenty of food and wait for spring. 

I don’t know if the little chipmunk ran out of its stored food and is resorting to winter forays to glean the spilled seeds from the bird feeder or just likes to come out for a breath of fresh air on warm, sunny days. 

If nothing else, it’s just one more creature for Molly to monitor. This, while she sits in the warm sun waiting for spring, as well. 

TRAPLINE DOGS

Molly, trapping dog, ready to roll. 

Trapping is usually not a group sport. I’ve heard of a few teams of trappers who would ride together and work together, but those are in the minority. Often, even when two or more  people trap together, they more or less go their separate way and only occasionally touch base with one another during the day. So day in, day out, it’s just the trapper and his own thoughts - and maybe the radio or stereo system in the trapper-truck.

That’s why many trappers adopt a Trapping Dog. Proving once again a dog can be a man’s best friend, a trapping dog can help keep a trapper focused and happy during the daily rounds.

Watching for squirrels

Molly is my trapping dog. She looks forward to each day as much or more than I do. Ever alert, she looks at captured raccoons, possums or coyotes as mundane. She’s watching for squirrels!

When not out on the trapline with me, she’s content to spend her  day protecting the bird feeder from marauding bushy-tails. Her goal in life is to actually catch one!

Alas, backyard trees afford a convenient escape for the raiders. They know it and continue to steal food from our resident flocks. I’m not sure Molly knows they are uncatchable. She shows no signs of relenting.

But on the trapline, Molly stays focused. She knows one day, she’ll encounter a squirrel just far enough from a tree to make good. If not, when the day’s trapping is over, it’s a quick sniff of the animals caught, then back to her post near the bird feeder. Tomorrow’s another day.

TICKED ON

 How many times have you heard comments that though it's cold outside and often tough going in winter garb, at least the bugs aren't bad? So far this winter, we've had only glimpses of normal temperatures. Last week we hit a single digit  overnight temperature once, but a few days later it was almost 60 degrees.

But at least the bugs aren't bad!

Or are they?

I caught a coyote yesterday that might have told a different story. As I was cleaning and brushing the pelt to preserve it until the next time the fur-truck shows up, I felt a familiar lump, up by the animal's ear.
Sure enough, the coyote was wearing a January tick!

JANUARY TICK

A quick check of the literature available set the air temperature at which ticks are active (at any time of year) at 4 degrees celcius, which is 39 degrees Fahrenheit. Evidently the tick climbed aboard mister coyote one of those warm days we had recently.

Remember, however, there are always micro-climates in the outdoors. South facing slopes and other areas warm up to appreciably higher temperatures on sunny winter days. Such areas are favorite resting areas for many species of wildlife, including game and predators. That makes them good places for hunters, nature photographers and birders.

If that includes you, enjoy the winter, but be a skeptical  about any claims of winter being free of bugs. The sneaky little boogers are still there!  

BEAVER GAMES

Everyone knows beavers cut down trees to build their dams, lodges and to make submerged food piles on which the beavers can feed in the winter when ice covers their ponds.

I found a spot recently where a gang of the tree-cutters had been very active and in unusual ways.




In one area a determined beav had gnawed down a tree twice and it still hadn’t tipped over.

The tree that wouldn’t fall was a wide-limbed mulberry which had branches so intertwined with nearby trees that once the beaver bit completely through the trunk, all it did was slide off the stump and stand straight, held upright by the surrounding trees. The enterprising (if not overly smart) beaver wanted that tree.

So he cut it down a second time. The mulberry tilted a little, but still didn’t fall. I’m monitoring the situation. Maybe today there will be another little log made!  Once he’s done, I’ll gather all the chunks for firewood.


Nearby, a beaver had better luck.  A different mulberry tree had been toppled, most of the upper branches had been hauled off, then the beaver, or I like to think the team of beavers, decided to have some fun. And if you are a beaver, what’s more fun than a tree gnawing contest?

Check out the photo and imagine three  beavers lined up, shoulder to shoulder, teeth bared. When the signal is given they dig in like Boy Scouts at a pie-eating contest.  I can’t tell which one won the award, but I bet the chips were flying!