OPENING DAY. IT’S a day when anything can happen. I was hoping, if for only a brief moment at sunrise, that this season could be better than last year’s.
That was a complete waste of time. There could be many reasons, like the moon, no rain or too much rain.
It turns out deer hunters have as many excuses for failure as fishermen. Sometimes they even use the same excuses like “The sun was in my eyes.”
I began compiling a list of hunting and fishing excuses as a service to my fellow sportsmen.
I used to hunt for deer high in the Olympic Mountains. The only hard part was packing them out. That seemed to get tougher every year.
I found out why.
As you read this, massive tectonic plates are colliding deep beneath the Earth’s crust, causing the Olympic Mountains to soar higher every year. This increases the erosive power of falling rain and snow, making the mountains ever more precipitous and rugged with each passing year.
So, it’s no wonder the older I get, the less likely I am to hunt up where the deer think they are mountain goats.
That’s my excuse. Feel free to use it.
I do my deer hunting in the foothills these days, where a logger is a deer’s best friend.
Deer like clearcuts. Unless the clearcuts are too small or too big, or grown up.
I was sitting in a grown-up clearcut on opening day. It was too brushy to really see anything.
That’s yet another good excuse for not getting a deer, if anyone’s keeping track of them.
All I had to do was sit there long enough and I could get a shot at some of the best meat there is, the blacktail deer.
Until then, I was birdwatching.
The truth is, I don’t like birds very much. They’re always making too much noise or a mess, or both.
I heard a whooshing sound. A massive flock of pine siskins landed in the maple tree I was sitting under. Siskins are relatives of our state bird, the gold finch.
They live on the seeds of alder and cedar, twittering about in great flocks that flow through the air like a feathered amoeba.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pair of sparrow hawks dove at the flock of siskins. Sitting beneath a frightened flock of siskins is a disgusting nature experience.
They tend to let loose when they are frightened and take off. This was no exception.
It was just lucky I was not looking up while being showered by a blizzard of bird droppings.
It was a good thing I wasn’t eating my lunch.
Shivering, soaked and covered with bird droppings, I decided to change tactics and drive through what had to be one of the biggest concentrations of deer in the country.
Sure enough, in no time, I saw a big buck walking along like he owned the place. There was only one problem. The big buck was walking down the center of a city street where hunting is illegal.
Here in Washington, we try to manage our wildlife in a way that does not hurt anyone’s feelings.
So, we protect the large predators, the cougars and bears, to the point where their populations explode.
The resulting high populations of predators drives the deer into town, where the humans provide protection. Some people even feed the deer in town, where they cause wrecks, plunder gardens and even attack people.
So, I didn’t get a deer. You can’t hunt in town.
That’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it.
Pat Neal will present a slide show and reading from his latest book, “Wildlife Volume 4, The Wilderness Gossip Columnist,” at the Puget Sound Anglers meeting Wednesday, Oct. 15, at 7 p.m. at the Sequim Elks Club, 143 Port Williams Road.
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Pat Neal is a Hoh River fishing and rafting guide and “wilderness gossip columnist” whose column appears here every Wednesday.
He can be reached at 360-683-9867 or by email via patnealproductions@gmail.com.
