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Showing posts from May, 2018

Moose on the loose

Every spring when the cows kick their yearlings out of their comfort zone, there are news reports of them showing up in the wrong places.  This spring, it was near the kid's school.  Friends had posted pictures of the moose but it wasn't until I took the littlest kiddo to the doctor that I saw the moose.  Knowing O would love to see this, I drove home and swapped kids.  I prepped him just in case the moose had moved on, but we were in luck!




 Aside from the fact that it was next to the interstate, the moose looked healthy with no signs of ticks or illness. 

The Department of Inland Fisheries & Wildlife got so many calls about this moose that wardens ended up tranquilizing the moose and moving it.


NEOWA Sportsman of the Year

I had the distinct honor of being named the 2018 Sportsman of the Year from the New England Outdoor Writer Association at their annual meeting.

























Staci and I went down to southern Mass. to attend the annual meeting and network with fellow outdoor writers.  It was great to put faces to the list of familiar names there and I was voted in as one of their newest board members.

It was a long but fun day of talking with fellow writers and hearing their stories of the outdoors all across New England.

More than just turkeys

For three days leading up to my turkey hunt, I woke up and looked at the clock to figure out how much earlier I would need to wake up to be at Staci's house on time.  Aside from ticks, the worst part of turkey hunting is the early start time. 

The day of my hunt arrived and armed with my coffee, I drove to Staci's house to find some turkeys.  Her husband, John, agreed to be our designated turkey caller. Deer ran through the woods off to our right and a partridge drummed continuously as we walked to our first spot.  The world was waking up all around us but there were no turkeys to answer our calls, so we moved.

I spotted the first birds of the morning, a tom fanned out with three hens (or two hens and a jake) so we parked the truck in the next field over and started making our way towards the birds.  Staci and I crawled on our stomachs to the edge of the hill and watched as the tom answered every time John called but it would not cross the field to come towards us.  We skirted…