day 52

Today was butchering day. This doe was changing coats from summer coat to winter coat, so there was hair everywhere. The other thing that made this deer different from the first one was the fact that she was so damn bloody over two thirds of her body. It was like one big hematoma.

When I went back to look for my knife yesterday I sort of kicked through the gut pile to look at the heart (yeah, I know, Path Walker would pickle the thing. I was in too big a hurry the other night). The heart was basically okay, except that slug cut off the top of the heart right at the aorta. This deer bled out internally, and basically the neck was a mess, plus there was hematoma under the hide on both sides of her chest.

Which was unfortunate, because unlike the doe a month ago, this one had a fair amount of muscle in the brisket and the flanks. But the whole thing was such a slimy gooey mess that I ended up scrapping quite a bit of meat that would have been edible with a different shot location. I plan on asking around this fall to see what others' experience is with the different kinds of bullet wounds that folks see.

Anyway. Got the hide off and the limbs off in about 2 hours. Took a break for lunch, then another 2-3 hours to debone the legs. Washing each piece of meat of the slime and congealed blood is what took the most time. Sorry to sound so gory about it, but this deer was really very different than the other one. Good argument for neck shots, I'd say.

Anyway. Tomorrow is a work day, but with luck I'll be able to cut up some steaks in the afternoon and maybe do some grinding. Quite a bit of hamburger is coming out of this one.

That's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 51

Well, while Faline's mom rested in the cooler today, I went back to the vineyard in the afternoon to retrieve my lost knife. Right before leaving last night I put it on the step rest to the truck bed, then drove off. I followed my tire tracks in the grass to figure out approximately where it might be, and on the second pass voila, there it was--I found the shiny blade under a clump of grass. Whew.

Tomorrow's deer butchering day. Should be interesting with the little Zs around. Wish me luck.

That's confessions of a knife losing deer sniper.

day 50

Well, we're back on the board again. Sometimes you can do everything wrong, and it works out for you.

Mrs. Z and the kids were off clothes shopping for school, so at 5:30 or so I decided to pack up the truck and head for the grapes. I got there just after 6 and farted around trying to figure out where I wanted to set up for the evening. I walked around a bit, looking for tracks and the like. I also took a break to handle bodily functions (if you know what I mean). It was about 70 degrees, but humid, and a fairly regular 10-15 mph breeze out of the southeast--which is good for the truck location, somewhat less so for behind the winery looking downhill. Twice I walked behind the winery to test the wind flow up by the building, which is so sheltered it didn't feel like there was a breeze at all. So I decided to set up by the building again, even though my scent could possibly flow downhill to the northwest corner of the field, which is where I expect to see most of the deer emerge.

No sooner had I gotten my bucket to sit on--I wasn't even sitting on it yet--then I saw a doe in the grapes downhill and to the south of me looking up at me. I was sooo busted. Damn. I sort of scrunched down behind the weeds and tried to make myself invisible, and to my amazement she just went back to feeding among the grapes. Right behind here were a couple of still spotted fawns. These guys were all moving south to north . . . so much for moving into the wind.

I tried to stand up behind the deck posts to see if I could get a shot. She started walking at a decent clip, from my left to right, northward. From where I was standing, I couldn't get a comfortable place to stand (there's a pile of wood under the deck) where I could brace myself against a post. So I hunkered back down again. Then I saw another adult doe with her, moving in the same direction. And a couple of other fawns.

There is a very large cedar absolutely dead center behind the building and between the grapes and the building. As soon as the first doe went behind it, I crept over to behind the deck's center posts and got ready. After what seemed like a very long minute or so of waiting, she came out from behind it, still in the grapes, presenting a very nice totally broadside shot at 50 yards, right in front of me. Aiming at the lungs, I brought the sight up to just behind the shoulder and fired.

Perfect shot--as soon as I fired she kicked her hind legs into the air like a mule and then took off north towards the woods and gorge that lay 70 yards beyond. The other doe followed, and while I made a half hearted attempt to get her in the sights, I was watching the behavior of the first one mostly. Four fawns made a quick exit as well, although the last one paused in the grapes to look around to see where the noise had come from. I got a real good look at where the deer exited the grapes into the woods, and so I slowly made my way downhill to follow.

At the northern edge of the newly planted grapes there is a thin band of woods right along the edge of the creek gorge that cuts the property in half running downhill west into the lake. From the edge of the grapes I heard and saw one or two of the deer on the other side of the creek take off at my approach. I had the gun up in case one of them was the wounded deer.

At the corner of the grapes where the deer went into the woods I found a ton of blood. This is the first real blood trail I have ever followed that really deserved the name. I mean a ton of blood. Even with my red-green deficient color-blind eyes I could see this blood. So I was very optimistic that I would find either a dead deer or a barely moving deer.

I slowly followed the blood into the woods, then down into the creekbed and up the slope on the other side. At the crest it got a little tougher to follow, but there was still a good amount of blood on the leaves of what looked to be mostly raspberries. I followed through the raspberries another ten yards or so, and then there she was, dead on the ground. She had run a total of probably just over a hundred yards or so from the point of impact, and when I reached her I was happy to see a nice low entry wound right in the heart/lung area.

Now the trick was . . . how the hell do I get her out of here? Dragging her back across the creek gorge was probably doable, but steep and lots of brush to go through. I could drag her all the way uphill on a nice deer trail along the north edge of the creek, but it would be close to 200 yards uphill before reaching a point I could drive the truck through.

I puzzled about it while I went to get the truck, and then decided to get her back along the contour across the creek to where I parked the truck in the grapes.

Which turned out to be easier than I thought it was going to be. I decided not to field dress here in the spot where she fell because of the drag through the creek and then up the bare dirt slope on the other side, but ultimately it was only a drag distance of about 40 yards as the crow flies to where I had parked the truck. The hardest part was dragging her live weight up from the bottom of the creekbed to the top of the slope, which at that location in the creekbed was probably two or three feet over my head.

But I did it--although I was pretty severely out of breath when I got her into the grape field by the truck. I looked at my watch, and it was about 6:45. I had her field dressed and home an hour later, let her hang a bit in the mudroom to drip dry, and she was in the frig and everything cleaned up by 8:30. At which time I poured myself a cold one.

That's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 48

Well, not to make excuses, but it's been a busy week. We had houseguests all weekend, and then different houseguests from Tuesday until this morning. Plus it was Mrs. Z's birthday today. So, no deer sniping this week. Oh yeah, and my new semester started today--minor detail. (I teach deer snip . . . er, uh, ethics for a living. Go figure.)

So maybe tomorrow night. The weather has really started cooling off, so it will be a much more pleasant experience to sit among the grapes and wait for the hoofed vermin to come along. So let's keep our fingers crossed. Because a full freezer is a sausage producing freezer.

And that's confessions of a deer sniper . . . although soon to be a grouse hunter again.

day 44

After a full day of rain yesterday, I was itching to get out today, figuring that the deer would be on the move and feeding early. It was a delightfully cool 70 degrees, with a strong 10-15 mph wind out of the northwest, and cloud cover. I was in the vineyard by 6:45 pm.

Tonight I positioned myself under the deck again at the winery building, looking west downhill and hoping the deer would emerge from the woods at the northwest corner of the newly planted grapes. At 7:30, that's exactly what happened.

A doe and fawn came out of the woods well beyond the grapes and the tall grasses that lie between the grapes and the newly planted clover ground cover, which is what these deer started feeding on. They came out of the woods right onto a berm that had been created from the land clearing last season, and they were both in excellent view against the clover. Only problem--the range was 100 yards at least.

Six or seven times I raised the gun and had the doe in my sights. Bracing myself against the deck post, I was able to get a fairly steady hold on the deer each time; but each time, I put the gun down thinking the shot was too long.

The doe stayed there the whole time. She never moved; she never indicated any sense that she knew where I was; and she kept munching away.

Inner turmoil. At first I had a nice broadside shot with her facing to my left. Then she turned, and I had a nice shot at her neck from head on. Then finally she turned and presented a broadside shot facing to my right.

I debated trying to get closer to them, which was in theory possible if I tried to crawl closer using the tall grass as a shield. But the fawn had already gone back in the woods, and I feared the doe going back into the woods if I started making noise.

Finally I reasoned that sooner or later I've got to try one of these shots. I know that's not the best reasoning in the world, but that's what I finally decided after agonizing about it for well over five minutes. I also reasoned that I can't let these deer go unharrassed so close to the grapes. After all, that's why I'm there. The permit even says, "shooting and/or harrassing," and so even my missing a shot would be a form of harrassment I figured. So . . . I brought the gun up again, steadied myself against the deck post, took a broadside aim at the lungs, and . . . fired.

She took off into the woods, not really showing any immediate signs of being hit. The fawn also took off, in a different direction toward the gorge that runs through the property to the north of the grapes.

I went downhill to the exact spot where she had been eating. I could see the section she had browsed, and when I looked around--nothing. No hair. No blood. No nothing.

When I went into the woods where she ran to, still nothing, and no sign of her dragging any legs or anything in the leaves and pine duff. Nothing.

I spent the next forty or so minutes combing the area within about a 100 yard radius within the woods, looking for some sign of blood or disturbance. Nothing. Went back to the spot where she was standing. No hair . . . no blood . . . no blood.

I have to conclude that I missed. At least I hope I missed, cleanly. I'm pissed at myself, of course, for missing--or for hitting her but not putting her down, if that's what happened. But somehow I think I just plain out missed. I've never hit a deer that didn't take off at least a bit of hair, which I can generally see better than blood anyway. Oh well. Here's a case where I could have used that 30-06 sniper rifle again, and it would have been a very safe shot with the berm as a background to the shot.

Oh well. It was a nice opportunity. It was also the longest shot I've ever attempted with a slug gun, and I suppose it was worth the learning experience trying to take the shot. But either I've got to practice that shot a whole lot more often, or next time I really need to find a true rest for the gun--maybe a set of tripod sticks. Who knows. But it was a nice opportunity.

I missed. It happens. That's confessions of a deer sniper for tonight.

days 40 and 41

Well, you can scratch day 40, because nuthin' happened deer sniping-wise yesterday.

Today on the other hand, was a beautiful night for deer sniping--75 degrees or so, a light wind that died down eventually, and cloud cover. We were in the grapes at 7:00 pm. Because the weather conditions were favorable, I sat (well, stood, actually) near the winery building uphill of the newly planted grapes. There were clouds that covered the sun the whole time, so I was hidden from sight, and I didn't have the sun in my eyes the whole time. Which makes all the difference in the world.

I was rewarded at 8:05 or so with a gorgeous look of a small deer that came creeping out of the woods, through the bushes and into the grapes. At sixty yards the deer was munching happily, broadside to me. I was disappointed, however, to see spots on the deer through the scope. Damn. I debated a bit with myself about shooting, but then I put the gun down in the hopes that mom was somewhere in the vicinity and following young Bambi.

Mom never showed up. I would have had a nice shot at the fawn, and I know some of my loyal readers (or at least my one loyal reader, plus his buddy the loyal fawn killing advocate) will question my judgment in passing up the shot on "venison veal." But understand--I am in the full time sausage making mentality right now, and a thirty pound deer would yield up maybe ten pounds of meat. I'm looking for bigger yields, if nothing else. Plus I honestly thought there was a decent chance that the mother would be lagging behind the young one.

I guessed wrong on that. There's a chance that this fawn tonight was one of the orphaned fawns from the doe I shot last month. You never know.

One other argument against shooting fawns (not a terribly strong argument, but I've read it on other states' nuisance deer control web sites) is that there is a 50/50 chance the fawn will be male. Meaning there is a 50% chance of killing the deer that in five years will be Moby Buck. Hence some states require their hunters to identify the antlerless deer that are shot on these permits as adult females. While I'm not sure I'd absolutely go that far, I'm still looking more for a 100 pound animal than a thirty pound animal.

That's confessions of a deer sniper.

days 38 and 39

well, didn't get out last night because of the line of thunderstorms that worked their way through the area late yesterday. And today Mrs. Z has her last bicycle maintenance class tonight, so I'll be missing out tonight. But no matter. Went to the grocery store this afternoon with the kids and ordered three more pounds of pork fat for the next batch of sausage. After a trip to Bastard Pro Shops for hickory chips and more sausage seasoning and casings, we'll be making sausage again.

Not much of a confession today . . . there's always tomorrow.

day 37

Tonight I got a real late start on the woods--Mrs. Z had to work this afternoon, and when she got home at 7:15 I debated whether to go or not. Then, figuring the only time the deer will show up is when I'm not there, I went ahead. But . . . no deer tonight either. I did manage to explore a bit more of the property, it was pretty cool again, and that was nice. But no deer.

On the sausage front . . . one of the two pound sticks is gone already. Between me and my eldest daughter, it's history. Gonna have to smoke some more pretty soon.

That's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 36

Tonight I got out to the vineyard at about 7:15 or so. I confess that I took a short nap at 5:00 after Mrs. Z took the kids down to the lake for the Taughannock Park concert. And the sausage is a big hit, my oldest daughter insisted on it for supper . . . .

So when I arrived it was only about 65 degrees, with a slight NW wind. So I got out of the truck and for the first time in two weeks, walked downhill and stationed myself down the slope below the newly planted grapes (essentially the vineyard slopes downhill to the west up until the edge of the cliff to the water; at that point the lake cottage property begins). I was basically on the western edge of the property.

Scouted a bit and found out where the deer trails are from the woods to the clover field below the grapes. Didn't see a whole lot of fresh sign, but a couple of trails through the field indicate that the deer are passing through occasionally. As I came out of the woods at about 8:30, I noticed the vineyard owner up on the deck of the winery, so I headed uphill, and we had a nice chat. He says he hasn't seen a whole lot of deer action lately either, so I don't feel so bad.

Anyway. It was a beautiful, cool evening, with no bugs, and I didn't even work up a sweat. But no deer.

It's still a long season.

And that's tonight's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 35

Well, I have to confess. I didn't get out into the woods this morning. I didn't go to bed until 12:30 or so last night, and I was so keyed up that I didn't fall asleep until after 2 am. So when that alarm rang at 4 am . . . it was a pretty easy decision to turn it off and go back to sleep. oh well.

Spent the day smoking. Got the sausage in the smoker at 10 am or so, and it took nearly three hours at 115 deg. F to get the suckers up to 90 degrees, which is the temp they should be when you start the smoke.

Here's the data from my "sausage log" (to paraphrase Path Walker . . . everyone should have a sausage log):

Two 2 lb. sticks summer sausage; Eastman Products summer sausage mix; added 1 tbs extra spices to 4 lbs meat
--put them in 10 am at 56 deg F; smoker at 115 – 130
--at 12:45 internal temp reached 90 deg; began smoke and smoker temp at 135-145
--at 2:00 internal temp 111; smoker heating element unplugged, burner plate alone keeps box temp at 150.
--3:00 internal temp 122, burner plate alone keeps temp at 156

Here's a picture from the Bradley Smoker forum of someone else's summer sausage hanging in a smoker; I only did two sticks obviously, but this is basically how the setup looks. Next time I will fill the box like this guy does.

At 3:30 pm I put the turkey in, which in hindsight turned out to be a mistake. Mostly because I should have been smoking/cooking the turkey at a higher temp than the temp for the sausages. I also had to cut the strings for the sausages and instead of them hanging, they had to be laid on their sides on a rack. Doesn't effect the taste any, but it puts aesthetically unsightly rack marks onto the casings. (shudder) oh well.

At this point I turned on main heater element all the way and changed the water. The temp in the box dropped to 129 but climbed within five minutes to 140. The sausages were now on the top rack, laying on their sides at 125 deg. internal temp. Ultimately I was shooting for box temp of 160-165.

Here's the rest of the sausage log entry:

--5:00 smoker temp 165, internal temp of sausage 137 deg.
--6:45 temp reached 152 (smoker temp 181); water shower in sink for 15 minutes only lowered temp 25 deg. Had to leave to bring kids to park at 7 pm. Upped box temp for turkey to 220.

That was about it. No deer sniping tonight. The turkey took til 11 pm to reach 185 deg. But boy did it look good when it came out.

The sausage turned out perfectly, I just tried some. yummy.

And that's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 34

I was unable to get out into the grapes tonight because Mrs. Z was working late, so I was home with the young Zs. No matter. Sausage making proceeded for real this evening, stuffed two casings with two pounds each of the summer sausage meat. Fried up a patty to taste . . . this is going to be good! Because the Bradley smoker is a fairly short unit, I cut off a couple of inches of casing from the 20 inch length, so these puppies will end up being about 15 inches or so.

I also cut the dowels to hang them from in the smoker. Everything proceeds tomorrow morning when I get back from the grapes. We also got a small turkey to smoke at the same time--with six hours of smoke, I hate to waste any of it. So we'll have turkey for the weekend as well.

Guess that's about it. The little 70s grinder that could is earning its keep these days. In the woods tomorrow at 0530, sunrise in Lodi is 0612.

And that's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 33

Well, last night was another bust deer-wise, but I did manage to do a bit more hedge clipping up the woods line for a better view. The loyal reader suggests that perhaps the deer have figured out that I'm there, and that's probably true. With the cool weather I'm back out of the truck, so that's good. I'm thinking of setting up down below the newly planted grapes and watching out over the clover where I've previously seen deer. The other thing is that I'm hoping to get out tomorrow morning. Mrs. Z is taking the day off from work, and so there will be no rush to get back home so she can go to work.

Sausage making progresses. This morning I thawed 4 lbs of last fall's venison burger, and then I added just under a half pound of pork fat that I got from the T'burg butcher a couple of weeks ago. Added the spices and cure (upping the spices 1/3, the pre-packed stuff always seems a bit tame), and right now the whole thing is resting in the frig. Turns out I don't have large enough mixing bowls to handle the job, had to use a big Farberware soup pot to mix the stuff. So bigger mixing bowls will be on the Christmas list this year.

If I go deer sniping tonight, I'll smoke the sausage tomorrow. If Mrs. Z gets home late tonight, maybe I'll smoke it tonight. Everything I'm reading calls for about a six hour smoke. Can't wait. Yum yum.

That's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 32

A wonderfully cool evening tonight amidst the grapes, no horseflies to be seen anywhere. I actually spent some time out of the truck catching some rays. . . . And here's a confession for you: I put my head back, closed my eyes, and dozed off. How's that for deer sniping technique? Just like in the movie when Vassili has the chance to shoot Major Ed Harris, er, Kronig, in the back but he can't because he's too busy snoring. I can assure you that it was at that precise moment that a herd of overweight does and their descendents passed by under my very nose, and I missed them.

Because I certainly didn't see any deer tonight. Where are all these deer? Have Bambi and Faline spread the word that the red truck means certain death? Or are all these deer just having too much fun eating tender green things in the deep woods, far far away from Vassili? who knows.

Anyway. Cranking up the sausage factory tomorrow. Our loyal reader suggest cheddar cheese and jalapenos . . . may have to try that eventually, though probably not with the very first batch. Wish us luck.

That's confessions et cetera et cetera et cetera.

day 31

Hard to believe I've been at this a month.

Tonight: nada. Nothing. Zilch. Either these deer are wise to me, or it's just too damn hot for them to move around. Tonight I was buzzed (within my air conditioned coccoon, of course) by a flock of horseflies that were as big as birds! hummingbirds, anyway. They kept banging into the windows and doors of the truck. Weird. Fortunately for me Bambi's mom didn't put in an appearance which would have forced me to go out into nature and confront the buggers.

Maybe that's what kept Bambi's mom away.

There's a chance of a morning hunt or two this week, however. Mrs. Z has a light week at work, and with the predicted cool weather, it could be good timing to get out there in the am and see what's moving around.

Getting ready to make a batch of venison summer sausage in the smoker. Will keep the loyal readership posted.

That's confessions of this deer sniper.

day 30

Day 30 was relatively uneventful. Did manage to get out into the grapes by about 6:45, and did some housekeeping at Position A, namely cutting low branches so that I can see up the woodsline further. No deer, however, and an increasingly swirling south wind as the evening progressed. I packed it in by 8:45.

This week's weather forecast is for cooler weather, so I'll be trying to get out there as often as I can. Gotta get some hamburger meat for sausage making . . . .

That's confessions.

day 29

Hard to believe I've been at this deer sniping nearly a month. Cool weather is going to make it a bit easier to do this, but it will also get harder as I split my time starting to get the dogs back into shape. Still no idea whether I'll be able to take my bird hunting trip this year, but if not, the nuisance permit is good right up until the eve of bow hunting season.

Had a bit of fan mail the other night from a reader in India. Posted it on the other blog before deleting it here. Funny how the nonviolent types can be the most threatening . . . .

No sniping today, just blogging. And that's confessions of a deer sniper.

day 28

Vassili here. I've given up trying to write a daily account, especially when it's 96 degrees in the shade as it was Wednesday and Thursday this week. Needless to say, I gave deer sniping a rest this week.

But we were back at it again this evening. Beautiful 80 deg weather, a slight breeze that eventually disappeared, and a good book to read in the truck. While I didn't see any deer, I did have two tourists walk through the firing zone on their trek around the vineyards following a scrumptious dinner at Dano's. So I talked to them for a while and showed them around the winery building. Turns out the husband knows a colleague of mine from my "day job." Small world.

So, no deer were seen. Mrs. Z has the Cayuga Lake Triathlon all weekend long, so I'll be home with the little Zs and supporting the race effort in that way. While Mrs. Z has given me the option of deer sniping in the morning, I'm coming to realize that weekends are a busy time around the vineyard, and that a better morning strategy would be early in the week any given week, say, Monday or Tuesday. So I'm passing on sniping in the morning. But rest assured that Vassili will find something deer-related to do tomorrow, and with luck will write about it.

Until then . . . that's confessions of a deer sniper.

days 22 through 25

Hello again deer sniping fans. I was out of town this past weekend giving deer sniping advice to the hunter ed instructors of Maryland and Virginia, recounting how to "stealthily and skillfully" exit an air conditioned truck and use the cab of the truck as a blind for maximum concealment. I'd like to think the participants learned a lot from my talk--like how not to turn the engine off while sneaking up on Bambi's mom.

Tonight our dinner guest was none other than the world famous Doctor Dirt, he of the phosphorus philosophy doctorate. While the kids had chops from last fall's vineyard buck, Dr. D and I sunk our teeth into the succulent tenderness of Bambi's mom, the first meal out of July's doe. I grilled it on the Weber with some Jamaican jerk rub, and it was excellent. With some Wegman's "wings of life" salad smothered in creamy garlic dressing, corn on the cob, and washed down with some fine beverages, it was a meal fit for a deer sniper.

With today's temperatures soaring into the 90s, and tomorrow's prediction for even hotter temps, I am unlikely to deer snipe until the weather breaks . . . which should be Thursday. Expect an account Thursday night.

And that's confessions of a deer sniper.