Magna Anno, a Big Year by any other name, or hunting without a gun

Barred Owl from Huntley Meadows Park in VA

Step one, watch The Big Year movie with Steve Martin, Owen Wilson, and Jack Black.
Step two, get a couple of your friends together to hold your own (very little) Big Year birding competition.
Step three, have at it for bragging rights...and it is a pretty healthy diversion.

First, we should define a Big Year. A Big Year, according to Wikipedia (which contains the sum total of all human knowledge), "is an informal competition among birders to see who can see or hear the largest number of species of birds within a single calendar year and within a specific geographical area. A big year may be done within a single US state, a Canadian province, within the lower 48 continental U.S. states, or within the official American Birding Association Area (defined as the 49 continental U.S. states, Canada, and the French islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon, plus adjacent waters to a distance of 200 miles from land or half the distance to a neighboring country, whichever distance is less. Excluded by these boundaries are Bermuda, The Bahamas, Hawaii, and Greenland)."

Great Blue Heron

Now, granted that Canada isn't too far from Vermont, but do we want to have to contest with an overly competitive birder jetting off to Alaska to add some unique bird species? Hint - no we do not. The same goes for the "French islands." Another issue with the original rules - to "see or hear the largest number of species of birds...." Most of my guy friends can't hear his own wife in the next room. I'm supposed to let him vouch for the fact he heard a Gray Catbird and not a Northern Mockingbird? I don't think so.

LBB or LBJ (little brown bird or little brown job)

Our rules are that you must see and identify the bird in the lower 48 states and surrounding waters. Zoos and pet birds don't count. All bird sightings to be counted need to be entered on Cornell University's eBird site. (Registration is free and the information is used by scientists in tracking bird species distributions and migration information.)

The eBird site has an unbelievable amount of information. For example, I'm interested in seeing a Snowy Owl, a bird I have never seen. I can go to eBird, look under explore data tab, then species maps. I enter the species I'm interested in and the location (in this case a ZIP code). The result is a map with sighting locations identified. Note that on this map (below) there was a sighting near Lang Farm in Essex, Vermont on December 16th, yesterday. Just imagine if they had the eBird equivalent for 8-point bucks?! Right, there'd be no 8-point bucks left.

On the off chance you spot some interesting bird, you can add it to the eBird sightings (after setting up a free account). Then when someone hovers the cursor over your map pin they will see your name and sighting.

eBird screen shot of Snowy Owl sightings near Jericho, Vermont

eBird is a great aid to help locate birds. However, it is no guarantee that the bird will be there when you arrive. That is where the hunting comes in to play. You will usually need to spend some time in the field or woods to spot the particular bird you are stalking. It is a great excuse to get outside and observe.  You may even find that 8-point buck, just don't mark it on eBird.

Interested in joining our little big year? Just send me a response to this post and I will add you to the currently very short list. You can follow our progress on Twitter at @sportingafield. I will post progress a couple times a month, along with links to any interesting pictures we take.

Bearly Thanksgiving

My family and I spent a lovely Thanksgiving at my brother Jim's house in Woodbury, Connecticut. We were outside setting up for our annual archery tournament and the kids and I discovered some interesting tracks in the backyard. Being trained scouts, they started following the tracks by carefully walking directly in the tracks. I managed to take this picture with my iPhone before it was stomped out.

My nephew, Jack, was the lead tracker. He followed the tracks under the porch. That made me a bit nervous since we couldn't see that there were exit tracks and under the porch would be a great place to sleep for the winter.

The bear just checked out the garbage can and moved on around the house and into the next yard.  It was something we didn't expect to see in suburban Connecticut.

The trophy held hostage in New Hampshire

It was an underwhelming second annual Boushie archery tournament. The champion from last year, niece Jessica, was unable to defend her crown due to bad weather. As for the competition this year, let's just say that very few of the arrows found the actual target, never mind the bulls eye. Arrows had to be retrieved from everywhere. (Good thing there wasn't a bear around and we had to defend ourselves. It is possible that the bear could have stepped on an arrow.

This year we were joined by Pat, my daughter Maddie's boyfriend (third from the right in the dinner picture below). What we didn't know was that Pat was a ringer. He taught kids archery in summer camp. OK, he wasn't much of a ringer. Truth was the competition was rather lacking. As I said, few arrows found the target. Besides we just wanted to make Pat feel welcome. Personally, I think he would have felt just as welcome in second place.

Indian princess aiming

bird-frying chef takes aim

I was able to defend my runner-up crown and there was no trophy to be given to Pat. Not because he didn't win, but because there literally was no trophy to give him. It was still in New Hampshire. That took care of the dilemma of what to do when a non-Boushie wins the Boushie archery trophy.

I think Jim and Pam were very happy to get their house back. The jury is still out on where the 2015 third annual Boushie archery tournament will take place. The first thing we have to do is get the trophy back from New Hampshire. The second thing we have to do is practice! I haven't shot a bow since the tournament last year. It was a sad showing. Perhaps I will make a trophy for second place - I would have won it two years in a row.

the crew, from left to right, front row, then back, daughter Katie, nephew Jack, niece Emma, me (Uncle Donut - my indian name), wife Karen, pa-in-law Norm, mom Althea, dad Sherdan, sister-in-law Pam, bro Jim, former archery teacher Pat, and indian-princess-daughter Maddie

Keeping New Year's Resolutions . . . Hiking, Birding, and Photography

      Back in January 2013, before my work life went crazy, I wrote about New Year's resolutions for the Mountain Gazette. I outline some suggested resolutions that I thought would make the sporting world a better place and sportsmen better people - if that is possible.  Among the resolutions I suggested was "Take up a new and complimentary 'hobby'; something to get you out in the woods during the off season. Take up photography, bird watching, hiking, canoeing – something to get you outside; something you can do with family or friends...."

Tri-Colored Heron and Great Egret, Cape May, NJ

I decided to follow my own advice (for a change) and take up several "hobbies" to compliment hunting and fishing activities. And while many hobbies don't come cheap, they don't have to be expensive (unless you get a new camera and new hiking shoes, and a new backpack...not that I'm saying I did...).

Being outdoors keeps me sane. Some people have no problem dealing with crowds of people, tons of traffic, and lots of buildings and pavement. Not me. I need the outdoors to recreate and regenerate. When I'm in Vermont, I'm surrounded by the outdoors. When I'm away, not so much.

My "hobbies" bring me outside when noting is in season or, God forbid, I don't have time or feel like hunting or fishing. When I'm away from Vermont these same pursuits give me a great reason to head for the hills - not that I need too much of a reason.

Sky Meadow State Park, VA

I started snowshoe day hiking on the western slopes of Mount Mansfield after hunting season was over and before trout season opened with . The woods were almost empty and I certainly didn't overhead.

Friends in Virginia told me about Sky Meadows State Park, which has become a favorite - especially the section that runs along the Appalachian Trial. Wherever I am on the weekend I look to see what local trails are available.

Sometimes the weather is less than desirable or I simply don't have the time available for a good hike. Enter the hobby of birding. I used to bird back in high school and my early fatherhood years - both periods of time with my friend Tom Kenefick. Back in the day, we'd pack our daughters Lauren and Katie and go looking for Bald Eagles at Mason Neck in Virginia. We'd tie feathers on the girls and let them flop around in their winter coats hoping to attract some birds. (Just checking to see if our wives ever read my blog.)

Great Blue Heron, Huntley Meadows Park, VA

In fact, back in high school we birded with David Allen Sibley (once). David was in my class and Tom and I ran track with David's older brother Steve and sister Anne. We went out one night looking to call owls and stayed through dawn. We ended up in a marsh, trying to convince David to leave so we could grab some breakfast. To say that David had an unusual level of focus for a high school guy would be a gross understatement, certainly where something other than girls were concerned. Of course, having more focus than either Tom or me was a low hurdle to meet.

So, I'm birding again and taking some short side trips to various locations near and not so near and it has been a lot of fun.

Whimbrels, Cape May, NJ

The Tri-Colored Heron, Great Egret, and Whimbrel photos were taken on a September trip to Cape May, NJ. The shots were taken from a boat in choppy water. I was using a Lumix GX-7 with a 100-300 lens. The camera has an anti-vibration feature, which was handy shooting from a boat.

I saw 34 species of birds. Many of the birds were firsts for me. Kind of neat. It gets me out and is an interesting challenge to learn to identify new birds. It is like preseason scouting, where you aren't sure of what game you'll actually find.

One interesting sighting while at Cape May was a Whiskered Tern. You won't find it in your local bird guide since it is from Africa. It was visiting Cape May when I was. It was only the third sighting of this bird in the United States. Frankly, it wasn't an impressive looking bird. It was nice to add such an unusual sighting to my life list.

Expect to see many more photos in coming posts. I already have quite a backlog. 

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here; To watch his woods fill up with snow.  (Stopping by Woods on a Snow Evening, by Robert Frost)

"Whose woods these are I think I know" is a fitting title to my first blog entry since July 2013. It is the feeling I get when I'm driving home from the Burlington airport; driving up our road, looking through the trees, across the meadow to our house. For more than a year, I have traveling considerably for work.  Being home for any stretch of time is a treat.

In November 2012, I started this blog. As part of this great endeavor I thought it would be fun and interesting to try out some new gear and write up a review or two.  One techno-toy I really wanted to try out was a game camera. I did some research and settled on the Bushnell® HD Trophy Cam.  I wrote to Bushnell and told them about the blog (then with regular postings) and that I wanted to review their Trophy Cam. They were kind enough to send me the HD Trophy Cam to evaluate for a year. An unintended, but very welcome benefit of evaluating the Trophy Cam was being able to stay connected to Vermont when I was away - specifically to Vermont's changing seasons and its domesticated and wild critters.

wild critter

The Model 119537C HD Trophy Camera took 8 mega pixel photos (after a year I still haven't used the video option). The camera takes very good to great quality photos. The photos ranged from vivid color during the day to black and white at night. The color quality depended on the lighting. The only poor quality photos was when the angle of the sun washed out the picture...or when Cabot-the-wonder-dog sprinted by the camera and all that was captured was a blur.

domesticated critter - Cabot

One of the nice features of the camera is the date, time, temperature stamp on the pictures. From this information I was able to determine that standard alkaline batteries worked down to about 4 degrees. Lithium batteries were good to at least 4 below - the coldest recorded. 

I made several other observations using this feature. One observation was that my wife clearly stretched the truth when she told me she always keeps the dogs on a leash when she lets them out. I could correct her by reminding her that on June 16th at 18:30 hours she, in fact, had Cabot off the leash as she walked up to dump kitchen bio-hazards in compost!  She was most grateful for my gentle corrections. (Every parent of teenagers should run out and get one of these game cameras. Just strap it to a tree and focus it on the front of the house. Your children will think you have supernatural powers about when they broke curfew or what boyfriend came to the house and when. If only I knew then...hindsight is 20/20 they say.)

partially domesticated

Another observation I made, more in keeping with the purpose of the camera, was that the only time I recorded our resident fisher cat (near the composer) was when it was less than 10 degrees outside. (See photo below.)

The camera is quite sensitive.  It captured birds at the feeder, the movement of squirrels, and lots of raccoon activity at night - including the whole raccoon family climbing down from a tree that we had always walked by, never knowing who its residents were.

fisher cat hunting English Setters

I am hopeful that my writing hiatus is over and that I will once again be adding routine posts.  A lot has happened in over a year, some of it even good.  No matter where your travels take you, the outdoors has something to offer. There are new trails, new animals, renewal of old interests, new encounters with animals, etc. New sporting opportunities also bring new gear. One future post has to be "Confessions of an Outdoor Gear Whore." I was going to use addict, but "whore" is much more dramatic, even if inaccurate.

Remember, a bad day afield is better than a good day at a regular paying job, although the regular pay is awfully nice.

Jericho Wildlife

...or wild wife. I'm back in Vermont for a few days from Babylon on the Potomac, as Fr. Rick refers to DC. Back home, time to check my Bushnell® HD Trophy Cam game camera to see what exotic wildlife it captured.

The rarely seen Vermont wife

The camera took 22 photos since the second week of July. Twelve of the photos are of some nut dog named Cabot racing through the woods after, most likely, squirrels. Squirrels were the stars in 4 photos. One photo was of me setting the camera.

Karen beat out the squirrel photos with 5 featuring her going to and from the compost bin.

I have to admit that I was hoping for something a bit more, shall we say, exotic. I should put out a mineral block. My luck, Cabot will consume it and require a visit to the vet. Maybe I'll leave it be and just let the camera take photos of my country wife.

It could be worse. There could have been a picture of my wife walking in the woods with a new, secret, illicit...horse!

“Every dog must have his day”

(as published in the Mountain Gazette, July 18, 2013, p. 1)

(Quote by Jonathan Swift) Every once and a while a story comes along that just warms your heart. You see the good in the world and forget, at least for a time, all that is so troublesome. I heard such a story the other day from my wife, which led me to call the people involved, and to put “pen to paper” as it is.

Back in mid-June, Priscilla Emerling and John Hanf looked out their window in Waterville and saw a man walking down Route 109 carrying a fly rod in one hand and a deer fawn in the other. This seemed a bit curious, even for Vermont, so they went outside to investigate.

The man carrying the fawn was Dalton Harben, a co-owner of Vermont’s own Worth Skis (www.worthskis.com). Dalton and his dog, Bo, were fly fishing the north branch of the Lamoille River when Bo started running around in a circle and barking, like Dalton said he does when he’s playing with another dog. Bo found a fawn. The fawn wasn’t sure what was going on and jumped into the rain-swollen river at a section of water with some small rapids. Bo went in the water right after the fawn. Dog and fawn were swept a couple hundred feet down the river. Dalton said that Bo, who is a strong swimmer, caught up to the fawn and was pushing his shoulder into the fawn to steer it towards land. Dalton said you could tell the fawn was frightened and was trying to keep its head above water. Bo then started pulling the fawn from the nape of its neck towards shore. On shore, Bo sniffed the fawn, licked it a few times, best friends forever.

Even a little fawn can recognize a good dog! Bo, a Plott Hound, with fawn
(D. Harben photo)

After picking up the fawn, Dalton started to look around and found a doe, most likely the fawn’s mother, that had been hit and killed by a car.

While Priscilla stayed outside talking with Dalton about the rescue, John went inside to call the State Police to see what they should do with the fawn. The State Police contacted the game warden and the final verdict was – set the fawn somewhere outside and “let nature take its course.”  That sounds good and fine, except that nature’s course isn’t something you’d always like to think about when it comes to God’s youngest critters.

John decided to bring the fawn up to a field where he knew there to be a fair number of doe with the hope that the fawn would be adopted. So he, Dalton, and, of course, Bo drove the fawn up to the field. John and Dalton set the fawn in the field and walked away…followed by the fawn. John set the fawn down again, lightly touching its head. He said as soon as he pressed on the fawn’s head it lay down and stayed in place.

John came back the next day to check on the fawn. He located it about 40 yards away from where he first lay it down. He saw several does in the woods near the field and there were fresh deer paths through the meadow. When John tried to touch the fawn to check its health, it bleated and ran about 20 yards and lay down. The does watched from the woods.

The third day John went to check on the fawn it was not to be found in the field. There were lots of deer tracks and no signs of predation. So, since I am the storyteller, we will assume that the fawn was adopted and everyone lived happily ever after. In fact, several weeks after the fawn was released by John and Dalton, Priscilla saw a doe with two fawns that were clearly of a different age. Happy ending, I say yes.

Nature’s course isn’t always the straightest or most gentle path(D. Harben photo)

Special thanks to Dalton, John, and Priscilla for sharing this story with me. Unfortunately, Bo still has not returned my phone calls, so I’ll have to take Dalton’s word for his side of the story. I leave you with another quote; this one from Gene Hill – one of my favorite outdoor writers. “Whoever said you can’t buy happiness forgot about little puppies.” I’m not sure how it is relevant, but it makes me smile.

Send me your stories and I’m still hoping to receive some photos, game or regular camera. Send me your best photos with some background information – general area the picture taken (unless it is a trophy animal), time of year, etc. I’ll include the best ones in to the Mountain Gazette over the next several issues. E-mail me at kristopher@sportingafield.net.

Please visit www.sportingafield.blogspot.com for more news, musings, and interviews or to leave questions or comments.

Beer Tie Night in Arlington

Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.  John 21:3

The fact is that sometime you go fishing and you catch nothing.  It happened to Peter and his friends and it happens to us as well.  So what is a guy, or gal, to do if Jesus doesn't come and help you out?  Well, if it is the second Monday of the month, you can always head to Whitlow's on Wilson Bar & Grill in the Clarendon Community in Arlington at 7 PM for the Tidal Potomac Fly Rodders' Beer Tie. (Tidal Potomac Fly Rodders' events)

Club officers, Dan Davala and Dalton Terrell, welcome tyers

The Beer Tie concept is simple.  Get together.  Drink beer and eat 1/2 priced burgers and tie some flies...or drink beer, eat a burger and watch other people tie flies.

Dan Davala started the Tidal Potomac Fly Rodders in 2009.  Dan is the fishing manager at Orvis's Clarendon Boulevard store and is a Federation of Fly Fishers Certified Master Casting Instructor.  The Tidal Potomac Fly Rodders is a charter club of the Federation of Fly Fishers.  The club started the Beer Tie in 2011 and they have already had to change locations once due to the large number of people who attend.

a large table was set up to provide tyers with some instruction

There was a good mix of people, from a 6 year old to seniors.  I was also pleased to see several women.  I spoke with one couple who was there with their two young sons - one 6 and the other 9.  The 9 year old loves to tie and his little brother is just starting.  I'm not sure I had that patience at that age.  In fact, I know I didn't.

Dan was joined at the Beer Tie with his very pregnant wife, Melody, who is also club treasurer.  (It looks like Melody will miss the next session.)  I also met Dalton Terrell, the club secretary and web master.  It is a very welcoming crowd.

Casey Peltier ties with a 9-year-old friend

Once her 9-year-old friend left her table, I sat down and had a nice visit with Casey Peltier.  Casey is a member of Casting for Recovery's Mid-Atlantic Program Planning and Outreach Committee (Casting for Recovery).  Her and her husband took up fly fishing later in life and along with that, fly tying.  Casey probably had the most elaborate fly tying set up and she was producing some very nice flies.  I know that I would certainly need supplemental lighting and magnification if start tying at Whitlow's.  Casey was very generous with her time and I noticed that the seat at her table was almost always occupied.

In short, the Beer Tie is a great idea and was a nice way to spend a Monday night, and I did win a book on kayak fishing in the raffle.  You can bring your own vise and materials or use one of the extra vices that Dan brings.  Even if you don't tie, the Beer Tie is a great venue to swap fishing stories with other fly fishermen and women.  The food and beer is a nice added extra.  Second Mondays of the month at Whitlow's, 7 PM until around 9 PM or so.  I know I'll be back in August.