The Bowhunter Featured Articles
Lessons from the Wood
by Jim Schoenike
Bow hunters are a special breed, who tend to be a dedicated bunch. With lots of time spent on stand, we have an opportunity to consider many things in the solitude of nature. We also use this time to assimilate information, contemplate choices, plan for the future and digest lessons we absorb from our time in the field.
What a busy offseason this has been.
This was the winter where we would complete a long overdue logging operation on our property. Professional loggers have become scarce since the pandemic pretty much shut down our country as well as the lumber markets. Along with all of that, mandatory MFL cuts have been delayed due to warm seasonal weather, which has caused a backlog for logging operations to be completed.
If you know someone in the logging business, you have a good idea of what I am talking about; and if you own MFL designated property, you probably share in some of my frustrations. After all, logging is a business and part of a major industry in Wisconsin. Just like many other businesses, we have seen a squeeze in the logging industry over the past few years. I previously had a high level of knowledge about this topic, but my experience this past winter provided me with an advanced degree in forest management.
Managing a highland forest is typically more profitable and easier for a logging operation. Owners of low land forests have had to deal with warm winters and those “scarce” loggers aiming for easier and more economical cuts (for them). The pulp market tends to fill up fast and it is a high-volume low margin business. Basically, the low land loggers need to use “hand cutters” and a skidder to remove pulp and logs from the swamps which results in (higher cost and is much slower).
Besides the necessary logging operation, we also needed to remove ash trees from our properties. Ash boring beetles have been destroying forests across the Midwest, and we were hoping that we could stay ahead of things, but it was now crunch time in southern Shawano County and northern Waupaca County. It is not like we were not thinking about this, but due to the logging delays, the wall of frustration we felt regarding this continued to build.
Finally, on January 3rd, the big, modern logging machines arrived. This began an intense two weeks of tree removal which included some smaller but desirable species of trees being removed. This had to be done just to make room for the processor and forwarder to be able to move around. To the untrained eye, the forest was being flattened before our very eyes. These were painful reminders of the big business that logging has become. The reality is that logging can sometimes be violent and not very pretty.
After the first wave of automation went through, hand cutters arrived to take down the larger trees marked for harvest. Pretty much anything 16” and larger needed to be cut by hand along with any marked trees tucked into tight spaces, (this is done to minimize damage to other trees). Many of the magnificent trees that I have been enjoying since I was a kid, had to go. One of the largest perfect specimens was a 40-inch white ash, which went straight up with no limbs for 70 feet. Its perfect logs will make beautiful lumber.
It almost brought a tear to our eye to see the apparent destruction going on around us. But a person must step back and remember what this land looked like 65 years ago, when it first became part of our family. There were so many memories and experiences that were created here. This was the third major harvest that has taken place in that time frame.
Loggers removed over 30,000 board feet of prime white ash, 25,000 board feet of prime soft maple, another 30,000 board feet of hard maple, and 10,000 board feet of clear basswood from our property; a high percentage of this being veneer graded stock. Also, there were 200 bolts of (pallet stock) and 300 cords of pulp (the smallest, least value of the entire cut); this leaves you contemplating how the place will ever recover. We wondered aloud how this could be considered “sound forestry.” But when you look at the total picture and imagine the future of this forest, you will see another harvest coming in 15 to 20 years. This will involve taking the highest value maple veneer yet.
With all of the tree removal taking place, the forest floor was littered with slashings, treetops, and branches. If you get past the massive amount of timber removed, you can imagine the future life and forest progression that should explode in the coming years. Due to the cutting that took place, we may even be able to pick blackberries again, at least until the canopy crowds out those pockets. Any way you look at it, things needed to be “opened up” on this property.
After all of the cutting, you can still see the beauty of the forest that remains. Pockets of large hemlock, developing cherry, mixed age maple, bitternut hickory, basswood, beech, plenty of future veneer maple, a few special white pine, and large red oak (these were off limits this time), still remain and will continue to flourish. Sadly, we doubt the ash will ever be back.
As the logging activities subsided, the machine operators noted the presence of deer. Both moving through the area and feeding on the treetops which were now within easy reach. When the first major snow came in February, we could also see the main deer activity resume using the same trails that pass by some of my favorite stand locations. Little has changed there, and that was good to know. It actually became easier to scout this movement for the upcoming fall archery season.
One unfortunate find during this scouting was the discovery of deer carcasses - remnants of fresh kills by the wolves that showed up in 2024. Only two things will change this going forward; depletion of the deer herd or a wolf hunting season in accordance with already established DNR guidelines and Wisconsin statute. I am hoping for the best option.
My optimism remains high for 2025. My trail cameras have evidence of a few 3 ½ year old bucks and a respectable number of less dominant bucks; all survivors, so far. This was made even better when my neighbors chose not to participate in the gun season this past fall. I guess I may have scared them away based on my in-person wolf sightings that I reported to them.
It is amazing to see nature in action and not all of it is beautiful; I certainly have my preference for how things should turn out.
“Look deep into nature, because you will understand everything better” Albert Einstein
Hunting Alone​
by Jarred Hook
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It was last Thanksgiving Day, November 28th, and I was in my stand with a bow hoping to put my gun tag on a buck. It was also the first really cold hunt of the season. I questioned why I wasn’t sitting next to my wood burner at home, especially considering I had already shot a nice 10 pointer, and the buck I had my heart set on had been harvested across the road by my neighbor a few days earlier.
Even though I only had a few game camera photos of that buck from late summer, I recognized his rack immediately in the picture that was shared by my neighbor. He was a main frame 8 point with a split G2 on one side and a broken G3 on the other. I hadn’t even given him an official nick name because he disappeared all fall……until a few days before gun season. I didn’t know he had returned until a friend of mine saw him on my property on opening morning, but couldn’t quite get a clear shot. I would have been happy for my friend to harvest him, but knowing that buck was a current resident reinvigorated me and I was excited to pull my bow back out of its case. If I had cell cameras, I would have known that buck was all over my property, running circles around several tree stands a few days before the gun opener. (There is something to be said for the timeliness of pictures from cell cameras, but I often feel like technology is changing how we hunt, and not always for the better). Despite my best effort opening weekend, I failed to connect with that buck before he became part of somebody else’s hunting story.
I’ve written about my last few seasons in these pages, so if you’ve read any of the stories, you might know how I feel about each one seemingly conveying a deeper message, like someone above is trying to tell me something. It took me many years to tune into nature and now I sometimes feel like it’s an unlimited broadcasting system that is plugged into a JBL tower speaker. It’s like when you keep playing sand volleyball into your 40’s even though your body keeps sending you little messages, “you are not as young as you used to be.” Then the billboard hits you in the head when you blow out your knee and it becomes very clear it’s time to cheer from the bar’s observation deck. So, what was last season’s message?
Good question, but I wasn’t sure. I shot a nice 10 pointer on November 4th and had an enjoyable season, but wasn’t getting hit in the head with any billboards or hearing anything from the JBL speakers. I wasn’t sensing any theme or profound message to share at all and I try hard not to read into any circumstances or force a narrative, so I just figured it was my year to take a break from the keyboard. When the 10 pointer walked by that morning, I had about half a second to draw and shoot, with zero time to judge his size. He walked right under me and I put an arrow through his vitals. What a story, eh! I’ll admit I was a little nervous as I watched him run away with the arrow flopping loose, but it just hit the shoulder bone on the opposite side and didn’t pass through or get lodged. It all worked out great with a short blood trail, but it turns out that was not the story I was meant to share.
This year I’m not here to tell you about my 100 grain, 2 blade Rage broadheads or my 24” Disrupter Gearhead bow. I’m here to write about how life intersects with bowhunting and about the deeper meaning it can have for many people, so let’s go back to Thanksgiving Day.
Normally Thanksgiving Day is spent with family, but mine was unexpectedly ripped apart by my wife a few years ago and the family courts dictated I wouldn’t be seeing my three daughters until the weekend. And my extended family was planning to celebrate a week later. At first, I was happy to have a day to hunt and the thought of spending Thanksgiving Day alone really didn’t bother me. But as I sat in that tree with the cold trying to penetrate my layers, thoughts of loneliness and questions about worldly suffering crept into my head. The only distraction I had was a lone doe that was slowly feeding my direction.
I guess you could say 2024 was not my year. Surviving my divorce was the hardest thing I’ve ever dealt with. Then I had double knee surgery, and a bunch of unexplainable health issues, including bad headaches, repetitive sinus infections and a case of pleurisy. Never heard of that? Me either, but it was unbelievably painful and wiped me out like I’ve never experienced before. To top it all off I injured my back in August and wasn’t sure what it meant for my bow season, or the rest of my life. As these thoughts swirled with the wind, I felt something deep within literally come pouring out unexpectedly and I cried uncontrollably. For a relatively unemotional outdoorsy guy who drives a truck and owns a plasma cutter, I’m a little embarrassed to share this, but men have emotions too. Thankfully my only witness was the doe that had bedded down less than 10 yards from my tree. The weight of the last few years, the biased family courts, the greedy attorneys and the unbelievable disrespect from the woman I loved all built an incredible weight on my heart and soul. I didn’t even know my marriage was in jeopardy until I came home from work one day to find a note from my wife of 20 years and my kids gone. If you, or someone close to you, has been through it, you know what I’m talking about. I felt very alone that Thanksgiving Day.
Up until this point I had been doing my best impersonation of a statue, as to not spook the doe and reveal my stand location, but I needed to blow my nose and move my extremities. She noticed my movement and stared, but didn’t bolt as I anticipated she would. I tried to be patient, but eventually had to stand up and get some blood flowing. She noticed that too, but just watched and chewed her cud. Why wasn’t she snorting, stomping and stretching her nose to the sky like they always do? She didn’t look sick or injured, just content. That’s when it dawned on me that I wasn’t alone. Oswald Chambers wrote, “In every wind that blows, in every night and every day, in every sign of the sky, in every blossoming and withering of the earth, there is a real coming of God to us, if we will only use our starved imaginations to realize it.”
Was this deer meant to keep me company? We all know deer have immense value. Their flesh provides nourishment to sustain life and our pursuit of them provides unforgettable memories with family and friends, but is it possible they could also be used as a tool by our creator to send a message, teach a lesson or bless those of His choosing? After all, He created all creatures.
I had a good vantage point from that stand, overlooking some prime habitat and I didn’t even catch a glimpse of another deer that day. It was just me and the oddly benevolent doe bedded at my side. I had years of experience hunting from that same stand and learned how intolerant they normally are to my presence despite my best scent control efforts, so the next few minutes stood in stark contrast as I surrendered to the brutal cold and packed up. I put my arrow back in the quiver and put on my backpack, fully expecting my movement to trigger the deer’s innate fear of humans. Nope. I watched her face as I climbed down my ladder and she didn’t so much as flap an ear. When my foot touched the leafy ground, I expected an explosion of leaves and dirt, close enough to spray me in the face. Instead, she just looked at me with complete calm and peace, unwilling to leave my side.
I’ve been bowhunting for 30 years and I’ve never seen a deer act like that before, so I don’t think my unanticipated eruption of emotions and that deer’s behavior were a coincidence. You have every right to doubt me or believe whatever you want to believe, but I think God used His unlimited broadcasting system that day to send a much-needed message to this humble hunter, which was…. I wasn’t alone and He will never leave my side.
I think contemplating life from the view of a tree stand offers a unique and powerful opportunity to leave modern society behind and connect with our creator, if we are able and willing to tune in. The message I felt that lonely Thanksgiving Day came through louder and clearer than anything I’ve heard in church (Sorry Pastor Andy) …... and on a Thursday, of all days.
Looking back at our tracks throughout life, we might wonder why we only see one set during particularly hard times. We tend to ask God why he wasn’t at our side when we needed Him most, but maybe that’s when He was carrying us. Or, maybe we should be looking for deer tracks?
