Raising A Fawn

The snow is piling up deeper and deeper in north Idaho and we may soon set a new record for snowfall. The deer are having a difficult time getting around so I put on the snowshoes and packed down the trails for them. There are seven does and one fawn feeding in the backyard. I don't know what happened to the rest of the babies; probably coyotes killed some of them last summer. The does are a family group of mom, sisters, and aunts and they stay together for protection. Without them the fawn would not have much of a chance to survive. They all seem to tolerate the fawn and even let it eat with them. The does are teaching the fawn survival instincts it needs to know so the youngster can live long enough to have it's own babies. God instilled in the old does the ability to care for and teach their young so they can survive in an environment that is often hostile .

Proverbs 22:6 says, "Teach a child in the way he should go , and when he is old he will not turn from it." God is telling parents to love and guide their children in His ways not the world's ways. The way of the world will lead a child down the wrong path. Raising a child is the responsibility of both the man and woman. In the world of deer and elk the mom's do it all but God intended for humans to share in the upbringing of their children. Grandparents, aunts, and uncles are also responsible to teach the children.

The outdoors is an excellent learning environment for children. The basics found in nature can be a great learning tool and children usually enjoy it. Taking a child fishing, a hike through the woods, and hunting can teach them responsibilities for life. The most important lesson we can teach them is that God loves them unconditionally. He wants to be a part of their growth process. Teach them God is a relationship not a religion.

On Thin Ice

Two fishermen fell through the ice on Lake Pend Oreille last week. Lucky for them the water was only waist deep and a rescue team helped them. Walking around on ice can be dangerous depending on the temperatures, currents, and under water springs. We are in a deep freeze so the lakes will add good ice, but people need to let it get thick enough before venturing out too far. I have had some unexpected cold water baptisms in the winter and a person can develop hypothermia very quickly. I fell in at eighteen below zero and had to walk a half mile to the truck. By the time I got there my fingers refused to work so I could not open the truck door. A coworker started the truck and got the heater going full blast so I slowly thawed out enough to drive home and jumped into a hot tub of water.

In Iowa we would often drive vehicles out on the lakes when the ice got two feet thick. One day a friend and I drove my car out to a fish house we had on a large lake. Fishing was pretty good so we decided to stay after dark and fish for walleye. Later we went to leave and discovered a dense fog had moved in but we were sure finding right spot to get off the lake wouldn't be too hard. Wrong! We drove around and around until some headlights appeared through the dense fog. That guy was also lost but was sure he had figured out where the exit spot was. We decided to follow him and finally got off the lake. We were very relieved to be off the lake as there was a stretch of open water not too far from where we entered the lake due to a rock point that jutted into the lake.

There are times we walk on thin spiritual ice when ignoring God . Going our own way until we fall through and then we holler for God to rescue us. God wants us to walk with him so He can help and direct us around the thin ice. Remember even Peter could walk on water as long as he kept his eyes on Jesus. When he panicked and started to sink, Jesus held out his hand and pulled Peter back up with him. Jesus will do the same thing for us. But if we keep our eyes on Jesus we don't have to worry about thin ice

Out The Back Door

The world seems peaceful and serene in the back yard as the snow has now piled up about three feet deep. There are a maze of deer trails in the white blanket where they feed on the corn I put out everyday. Several deer now feed every night; some arrive before dark. I have been cutting the tops off the high bush cranberries so they can eat the red berries as the birds don't seem to like them. I tried one and they are very tart.

The peace of the yard has been turned into a scene of terror by a winged predator. I have been finding dove feathers and the birds are often perched in the tree tops looking for this killer. Sunday afternoon I found a fresh pile of feathers and after searching the trees found a sharp shin hawk perched in a cottonwood . I threw snowballs at it and clapped my hands but the hawk would not leave. So I went in and got the 22 rifle and placed a shot about six inches from the bird and it quickly left. I wouldn't mind if it ate a few of the starlings but doves seem to be the daily cuisine. At this rate the forty doves won't last long. War has entered the peaceful life of the doves.

The drama unfolding in the back yard is similar to our lives. The book of Peter says Satan is like a roaring lion going around devouring people and destroying lives. Satan hates God and will do anything to keep us from having a relationship with the Father. Prayer is the best defense we have to thwart the devil's plans when he attacks. He flees at the name of Jesus. Jesus defeated him with an empty tomb and promises to come back again and personally throw him into the lake of fire. In the mean time we are to pray and pray and pray. God will hear us!

A Fierce Heart

We have a covered roof that wraps around two sides of our house that I use for wood storage. It is very full of various woods that I will use this winter. The other morning I was heading out to feed the llamas when I noticed a small set of tracks that emerged from the wood pile across the snow and disappeared into some tall grass. The tracks were from a weasel or ermine as they used to be called when their fur was in demand for women's coats and accessories. The little animal was very sought after in the early 1900's but now their pelts bring very little money. I have caught a few when I trapped pine marten as they both use the same habitat. They are a great mouser and will eliminate a population quickly. I'm happy it is here and hope the little guy spends the winter.

If a weasel weighed 35 pounds instead of a few ounces we would be in big trouble. They are a fierce little animal that will take on something much bigger. They are capable of killing a snowshoe hare and climb fast enough to catch squirrels. Several years ago I left Ardella on a log beside a brush pile to deer hunt and she heard something growling near her when a white head with beady black eyes appeared and was trying to chase her from his winter home. The little guy wasn't about to share his space and kept appearing , disappearing , growling his disgust with her. They seem to be an animal with a high energy level like they are overdosed on caffeine.

God put a fierce heart in that little animal so it can survive in a world much bigger. It is that kind of heart and determination that can drive people to greatness and overcome great opposing odds. David had that fierce heart when as a teenager he tool on Goliath. David never once doubted the outcome. Peter had the boldness to proclaim the good news even under the threat of death. Paul's fire of the heart could not be extinguished in a Roman prison and converted many of the prison guards. Jesus had it when he chased the money changers from the temple and as he took on the Jewish leaders when they tried to trap him with various provoking questions.

We should pray to know when to use that same courage in our daily lives. If we stick to the truth of the Bible and not our own feelings, we can accomplish great things in our walk on this earth. God doesn't expect us to be trampled and walked on. But we should let God lead our hearts in all areas of our lives. He wants a relationship with us not a religion.

Whiter Than Snow

The recent snowstorms have created a wonderful blanket of clean white snow in the valleys, through the woodlands to the mountain tops. Everything looks so much different than the brown colors of November; creation glistens with God's splendor. I enjoy the snow as it piles up on all the tree limbs and fence posts. I grew up in Iowa and that rarely occurred in the windy country.



This is a great time to take the family out for sledding, cross country skiing or snow shoeing. The exercise will help burn off the extra calories we consume this time of year. Our dog loves the snow and likes to roll in it to make dog angels. Most of her tennis balls are lost until spring thaw.



Psalm 51 tells of God willingness to make us whiter than snow. It tells us about his compassion for us and that He can cleanse us from all our sin. God is a loving Father ! The psalm goes on to say that we need to pray for a clean heart and ask God to renew a steadfast spirit in us. This Christmas would be a great time to ask God for renewal of spirit; after all he sent his gift of love for everyone 2000 years ago.

Go to Matthew or Luke and read the Christmas story. It is a story of God's love for all of us. My prayer is for people to realize how much God loves them. Remember, Jesus is a relationship not a religion. Merry Christmas!

Winter Visitors

This time of year our property is a sanctuary to hundreds of birds. Each morning I put out a gallon of sunflower seeds and a large container of regular bird seed. By late afternoon all the feeding stations are empty. We also have suet in two locations. Our regular visitors are house finches, chickadees, gold finches, juncos, flickers, starlings, morning doves, stellar jays, pine siskins , and downy woodpeckers. Each year the dove population seems to grow. This year we have at least thirty. Several fox squirrels also call our property their home. Deer wander through at night to see if there are any seeds left for them. Once the snow gets deep I will feed the deer some grain to keep them off the railroad tracks.

The stellar jays are one of my favorite birds as they are so beautiful . God made the blues so vivid and striking on this bird and instilled a boldness in the jay that matches it's colors. Our jays have grown accustom of me and often approach me very close. The other morning a chickadee flew down and briefly perched in the sunflower container as to tell me I was late at putting out their breakfast. It amazes me that something as small as a chickadee can survive in this cold climate . It seems so fragile yet adjusts very well to winter.

We have recorded over sixty five bird species on our property; each unique and created in a special way. People who think we were created by some cosmic accident or evolved from a single specie need to take a closer look how each bird is so different and wonderfully made. God not only created them; He cares for them. Matthew 6:26 says' "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. "

Then it says, " Are you not much more valuable than they?" Our Heavenly Father loves us more than anything yet we often do not show the love back to Him. He wants us to have a relationship with Him not a religion. You are part of His story, an old old story. You can not escape it. We all are born and all die. What we do between those times is our story. The one thing He wants us to do is seek Him. It is decision with eternal consequences; we will spend eternity with God or be separated from Him.

So who would you rather spend eternity with; God or Satan?

Dad's Forgiveness

As the eighth grade approached I became very interested in learning to trap. That year I read many books and magazines about trapping beaver, mink, muskrat, and raccoon. I purchased some traps and asked permission from nearby landowners to trap the Des Moines River that meandered through their properties. The first year was a learning process but I caught a few animals and that fueled my ambitions for the next year.

By the time I reached high school, I had become very proficient and during November I would earn as much from trapping as I would working the rest of the year. Dad let me turn the garage into a place to skin , stretch and dry the hides . The wooden garage doors held beaver hides tacked to them and hides hung from the ceiling trusses. I also teemed up with my brother Ron and between us we checked over 500 traps every day. We would catch over 1500 muskrats, 30 mink, about 30 raccoon and 20 beaver every season. We even hired our brother-in-law to skin and stretch the pelts as we did not have the time. Our trap lines extended over a large area of creeks and rivers as our father knew many farmers in the county so getting permission to trap was easy.

One summer I read how to make our own sure fire raccoon lure out of fish. I thought about the money we would save by making the lure and went down to the river and caught some carp. These were chopped into small pieces and packed into quart jars. I talked Mom out of a few canning jars. The jars were supposed to be buried in the ground in a cool shady spot with about two inches above the ground. I looked around our yard and decided the big leaves on the rhubarb would be a perfect spot to bury this treasure. So the jars were carefully placed under the rhubarb and had to stay there for at least four weeks. Three weeks went by and I was anticipating unsealing the best lure ever made. One evening I was working in the garage when Dad came in and said he was going to mow off some of the garden plants as summer was nearly over and many vegetables were finished for the year. The mower came to life with a roar and old vegetables were being cut off to clean up the garden but suddenly there was a loud kurthump, and a moment of silence. Then Dad hollered, " Larry, bring a shovel out here right now!" As I rounded the garage a putrid odor hit me and was spreading rapidly throughout the neighborhood. My prize lure was ruined! Dad walked by me with a scowl and told me to clean up the mess and also clean the lawnmower. So I sorted out pieces of rotten fish and broken glass and hosed down the mower.

Dad was a little upset at me and I wondered what I could do to get back in his favor. A few days later I brought the subject up to Mom and she said he had gotten over it and was actually having a good laugh at work telling people about the episode. My Dad had forgiven me and I was back into his grace. What a relief that was to me .

Now our heavenly Dad is like that too. We goof up and create a big stink in our lives and God is merciful and forgets the whole thing. Psalm 103 says God forgives ALL our sins and heals our diseases, and redeems our life from the pit and crowns us with love and compassion. He satisfies our desires with good things and our youth is renewed like the eagle's.

I continued trapping through college but never, ever made anymore lure.

Thanksgiving Tradition

Families across this nation will gather on Thursday to celebrate Thanksgiving. It is my prayer that they remember to whom we are thankful. Psalm 100 puts thanksgiving in perspective. It says, “Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful songs. Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his, we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the Lord is good and his loves endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.”

I am afraid most people don’t appreciate that Psalm. We try to rely on wealth, status, and ourselves for happiness and thanksgiving. If every person in this nation would get down on their knees Thursday and thank the Father for his rich blessings, He would bless our socks off. God is waiting for us to praise him and thank him all the time, not just on Thanksgiving. Give Him the praise all the time!

For the last thirty seven years Thanksgiving morning has often found me in the woods deer hunting. It has become a family tradition with the son-in-laws. There is usually one of us still needing to fill a deer tag. This year we all three still have tags. I have a doe tag, Thane has a regular deer tag, and Vance has two deer tags. It looks like we will be able to work up a good appetite before dinner. I am thankful to have these magnificent creatures that God put here. No matter what time of year I see a deer, I praise God .

Take time this week to praise God for all the blessings he has given you. Read some of the praise Psalms that David wrote and realize that God wants to richly bless you.

Doubt, Humility, and Patience

My deer season began last spring when Ardella and I saw a big buck briefly one evening as we were bear hunting. He had a huge body and dashed away fast into the timber. I immediately envisioned this old boy on our wall. Everytime we were in the area during the summer I would search for his tracks. The buck's hoof print was easy to distinguish from the other deer by the size and how he sunk into soft dirt. Just seeing his footprint raised my hopes for a chance at this old monarch.

In late August we saw him in the clear cut and got a glimpse of the immense rack as the buck once again melted away into thick cover. During the first week of September I was archery hunting elk in the clear cut when I noticed two young bucks feeding about one hundred yards away and below them was the big boy munching on some tender grass. This time I had a better look at his big rack before he fed out of sight. For the rest of the bow season I would see the same doe every time but no buck. Something told me she was the key to getting the big buck.

October rifle season opened and the doe was out the first afternoon and helped draw in a three pointer for Ardella. For the rest of the month I would hunt this area many times but could not find any deer. It was like they vanished from the earth. We heard wolves howling a few times in the vicinity and thought this was the reason no deer were around. I hunted hard and could only find an occasional track, none which were the big buck's. The old doe was gone too and doubt about my success started to creep in my mind. I doubted my ability to find tracks, my knowledge of whitetails, and if I would miss one if I did see a deer. The dream of the big buck was fading fast. Then one evening while glassing the clear cut I reviewed my season. God had provided several spectacular sunsets, I was serenaded by coyotes, and I saw autumn in all the splendor of golds and greens. This hadn't been such a bad season after all. I praised God for His creation and how it works in such precision and harmony. I started to feel better but where was the doe? Did the wolves get her?

Sunday afternoon I started searching several deer trails for fresh sign as it rained the day before. The first trail yielded some deer tracks but none that were the big buck's. I came to the clear cut and decided to walk down to the area the doe liked to feed . As I stepped over a log , a huge fresh buck track jumped out at me! It was the old buck and he had been here last night. I walked up to an old wood pile we use as a blind and started glassing. By three thirty my eyes were getting tired of staring through the Burris binoculars when a doe appeared in them. The old doe! A smile came across my face; my friend was back. She was about one hundred and fifty yards away so I settled in to watch her. Later she jerked her head up and gazed down hill but there was a big log pile in the way . Her body language told me it was a deer but she did not seem real thrilled. I was sure it was the big buck so checked my rifle and scope. Several minutes later a huge buck with a heavy rack ran around the log pile. It was the big guy! I waited until he turned broadside, put the cross hairs on the shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger. He bolted uphill and I shot once more but knew I missed that time. As I looked up the buck went down. The old doe looked around and slowly bounded away waving her big white tail as if saying goodbye.

I walked down and found him laying behind a brush pile. I couldn't believe the size of his body and big rack. I praised God for allowing me to take such a wonderful creature. His meat will give us organic protein and some day his great head will grace our home. As I walked back to the truck, God painted another glorious sunset across the Selkirk Mountains.

I learned some good lessons from this fall while hunting. We let doubt settle in our minds instead of relying on God for help. Satan is the master of doubt. Through prayer and talking to the Father we can make doubt flee. I finally humbled myself that I didn't know everything about deer hunting and decided to just enjoy the rest of the season no matter what happened. I need to be more patient and realize that big deer and other blessings can take time .

Like An Old Friend

Every hunter has a favorite rifle or shotgun. Mine is a bolt action Ruger 7mm mag. that I have carried up and down mountains for thirty years. Last week I sat watching a hillside on the last day of elk season and took notice of the gun on my lap. It has several character nicks and dings in the stock and the bluing is worn off where the scope has rubbed against my coat over the years. An inscription on the barrel says" Made in the 200th year of American liberty. I bought the gun the next year after someone had it only one hunting season. It was two weeks before elk season and I needed a rifle but searched several sporting shops without finding one. A friend told me about a guy that might have some in his shop. He mainly built custom rifles but also did some gun trading. I found two rifles; one was a short barreled 30-06 that looked like a toy gun and the other was the slightly used Ruger. I questioned the shop owner why the person had traded it but he had no answer. I'm left handed but have always shot a right handed bolt and I can deliver fire power with great precision and speed if necessary. I decided to buy it even though I had some doubts. Now I needed a scope. He brought out a used Weaver 3to 9 power scope in the original box and said it was a good one. I took it with some doubts too. I zeroed the gun in for 200 yards and it has performed flawlessly for thirty years. It is like and old friend, reliable and I trust it to do what I ask. I can not remember all the bear, deer ,or elk I have taken with it but do vividly recall the shortest shot and the longest.

The shortest shot happened one morning when I was walking down a deer trail to check for sign when I heard a buck grunting loudly as he walked up the trail directly toward me. Since the buck was just a 3 by 3 and it was early in the season, I decided not to shoot him so lowered the rifle to my waist. The buck closed to thirty feet and stopped, lowered his head and charged me at full speed. Everything seemed to unfold in slow motion but he was coming fast. I brought the rifle up to my waist , pointed it at his chest just ten feet away and pulled the trigger. The impact spun him around and the buck crumpled in the heap . It took me a few minutes to get my composer.

The longest shot was over 500 yards at a nice bull elk in Idaho's Clearwater Unit. Ardella and I were walking an old road early one morning when I spotted this bull in some timber across a timbered swale. I didn't have a range finder so estimated the distance in one hundred yard increments. I put my pack on the ground and placed the rifle across it and put the scope on him but there was too much timber in the path to shoot. While I waited for him to move , I checked the box of Hornaday shells that gave me the drop of bullet at five hundred yards. Soon the bull moved into a small opening ; I put the cross hairs just above his back and slowly squeezed the trigger. He folded up about sixty feet away.

Now this relationship with my rifle is one sided. I appreciate that it is reliable and I have great confidence in the gun's ability, but it doesn't respond back. There is a friend that is always there and ready to help us and seeks a relationship with us. His name is Jesus. He will forgive us of ANY sin and wants to walk with us daily. Proverbs says there is a friend closer than a brother, that friend is the King of the universe . Jesus is ready to listen to you and you know what? HE will talk back to you if you take time to listen.

Moonbeams and Dawn's Early Light

As Thane and I left the truck the soft light of a full moon bathed the woodlands . Even though sunrise was over an hour away we were able to walk up through the clear cut without any aid of flashlight. The clear cut was recently planted to seedlings for the next forest crop in about fifty years. Right now it looks more like a war zone with only a few sentinel trees left standing but new growth is appearing. Many aspen, wild rose and a variety of grasses are emerging and in about three years elk and deer will start using this area.

The moon slowly gave way to the sun starting to scale the Cabinet Mountain range. The ravens roosting in some dark timber awoke to noisily announce the morning. We sat in silence and watched the forest come to life. Unfortunately, no elk appeared so we each took an old road and would meet later in the morning.

I find it amazing that God could put the world in order so we know exactly when the sun and moon rise and set. The same order is found in the natural world. Only man in his arrogance knows how to rebel against the Father.

Get out some early morning and watch the dawn and you will understand how great our God is!Listen to the woods wake up and praise Him for the song it sings.

Symphony Of Autumn

It's happening now; do you hear it? Listen! The fall symphony is on stage as sweet melodies flow from the mountain tops , resonating off distant hills, descending to the valley floor. The once a year production is short lived , starting in September and ending with silence as the November snows pile up. God orchestrated this wonderful harmony that no human musical troupe can equal. The vocalization is usually heard one species at a time but they can overlap adding to sweet music to our ears.

The elk start the show off by echoing their harmonious bugles from ridge top to deep dark timbered canyons. Cows will join the chorus with their meows. Ardella and I had the awesome opportunity to watch this opera several years ago while hunting in the Clearwater area of Idaho. We were hiking up a timbered ridge one afternoon when an opening allowed us to view the distant hillside so we sat down to listen . Soon a lone bugle drifted from the forest below us and was joined by another down the canyon; then a deeper voice answered from the far slope. Soon a sweet repertoire of bugling filled the area and rest of the participates entered from the dark timber across from us as if on cue. About fifty cows and calves marched out on the open hill to sing back to the bulls. The production held us spell bound for over and hour until the show closed for the day with a curtain of darkness enveloping everyone. It was the most God inspired music we have ever heard from nature.

The moose are next with deep bass grunts and they nearly perform a ballet as two bulls meet and walk stiff legged and tip their huge racks at each other. The performance is one of power and intimidation. Once in while you will hear the long lonesome response from the cow. I like to participate in their musicals and they don't seem to mind. This time of year the ravens gather for some raucous and rowdy dinner parties and can be heard carrying on until dark. The geese are next honking wildly as they migrate south . Their calls stir deep with in me. Swans are also heard with the sound of trumpets as they wing south at very high altitudes.

One of my favorites is the loud yucka, yucka, yucka from the pileated woodpeckers. They are the power drummers of the woods where the small downy woodpecker responds with a soft rat, tat, tat. The great gray owl's hoo,hoo, hoo is heard so seldom and the vocalist is rarely seen. More common is the who, who, whoee from the great horned owl as it calls out to warn it's prey to remain alert.

The whitetail deer are one of the last musicians in this woodland cast. Their clash of antlers sound like clanging cymbals in the quiet forest. This is followed by the grunts of the bucks and the bleats of the does. It is sweet music to my ears. A pack of yodeling coyotes brings a smile to my face as they yap away and then hit high soprano pitches that could shatter glass. Sometimes they are answered by the baritone howl of the wolves whose mournful music sends shivers through all the creatures in the woods. The show ends with the chickadee all dressed up in it's tuxedo as if this was a formal occasion. It applauds with a chick a dee dee. Curtain closes as the November snows pile up and a new sound echos from the woods. The sound of silence.

Our Heavenly father orchestrated this production company thousands of years ago and He set in motion for us to enjoy every autumn. Take time to hear this wonderful melody and better yet include a youngster. You won't be disappointed

Opening Day Buck
Last Wednesday the rifle deer and elk season opened under cloudy and threatening skies. Ardella and I headed out early afternoon to get a load of larch firewood before walking in about a mile to evening hunt. As we rounded a curve in an old road I noticed the beautiful fall colors that jumped off the mountains to rejoice the autumn. Bright yellows of larch and golds of birch stood out against the dark green of the pines. We settled in behind an old slash pile of logs and were soon joined by a cow moose about 150 yards away on the adjacent hillside. She was busy feeding on a variety of plants but seemed to prefer birch if she could reach the golden leaves. The cow found a birch log sticking out a slash pile and decided to use the log to scratch behind her ears. Then she proceeded to rub her neck on both sides before finally leaving for the evening. A doe appeared at the bottom of the clear cut and I told Ardella not to shoot her as she would be our decoy. We watched her for about an hour and it seemed like that was going to be the only deer. We were busy glassing when I spotted something about 250 yards away that looked out of place in the tall grass. I watched it closely and finally a set of horns appeared briefly. The buck was headed away from us and would soon disappear if he walked uphill. He finally turned around and started feeding downhill. He soon disappeared again behind some brush for several minutes only to emerge and head directly to a large hemlock tree. Once the buck got behind the tree he turned broadside but all we could see was a head on on side and a tail on the other. Then he turned toward the doe and went across a grassy opening. I heard the safety click off on Ardella's rifle followed by a loud boom. The buck staggered and took a few steps and went down. I congratulated her on the 165 yard shot and noticed that she was shaking but had a big smile. We found the buck laying against an old stump with a shot through the heart. She uses a 7 mag. with 175 grain Speer bullets. It was a great hunt and I had to unload some of the wood, but it was worth it.

Fate of Fickle Wind

The old doe's head snap to attention and gazed uphill to my right. Maybe that big buck was coming down the trail. Her eyes never left whatever she was looking at, but the hair on her neck was raised and she seemed to be ready for a blast off up the hill. I looked through the holes in the camo fabric of my blind hoping to see something. Slowly a shape took form. A huge dark brown neck the size of my body, a black nose checking the wind, two big brown eyes, a pair of ears listening to every sound in the woods , and a crown of horns. A nice five by six bull elk! The doe launch like a rocket up the hill, blowing her digust the whole way. He never moved.

I started cow calling but he seemed reluctant to respond. So I threw more calls away from him , hoping he would think the cows were down the hill out of sight. It worked. Slowly the bull turned and started to check these gals out. His muscles rippled with every step and he held that head high like proud royalty. I tried to calm my shaking body, took a deep breath, and released the air slowly. He crossed the game trail and was going to come in above me. I crawled about ten feet to an old log pile and got on my knees to shoot. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards and I drew the arrow back and slowly eased up so the bow limb would clear a log. As I put the pin on his vitals, I noticed a log out fifteen feet was directly in the way of the arrow's path. The bull saw some movement and bolted. I cow called and he stopped at sixty yards. I use three different makes of cow calls to sound more like a herd. I grabbed the Primos call and really tried to convince the bull that the cows were down the hill. It seemed to work as he turned and slowly headed back. So I tried the other two calls which are different brands and he stopped and turned away. I switched to the Primos and he headed back again. This time the bull stopped just out of range and acted like he was trying to stand on tip toes ( tip hooves) so he could see the cows. The old boy decided they were down the hill so he started for a small depression about thirty yards from me. I came to full draw and started to put the pin on him when I felt the wind blow from behind me. The bull turned ends in a blur and covered and covered eighty yards in a few seconds. I stopped him again with the Promos call but he refused to come back. The king left with a regal swagger that those cows didn't deserve him.

As I watched him disappear over the hill ,I thanked God for the opportunity to be so close to this majestic animal He created. The sunset was beautiful making for a nearly perfect day. I sat in silence reliving the moment and thinking about two things. Always use a Primos game call and never trust the wind.

Messing With Moose

Newcomers to north Idaho soon realize that the moose they liked seeing in their yard has a ravenous appetite for their flowers, shrubs, and trees. A moose can strip limbs bare in a few minutes and destroy a flower bed in a flash. People find that sending out the dog doesn't do much good, as the dog usually ends up getting chased back to the house by the big intruder.

Over the years , Ardella and I have had many exciting encounters with these big deer. We experienced being chased by irate cows in the spring and charged by a lovestruck bull one evening as we came off the mountain from archery hunting elk. I had called this bull in one morning in the same area while archery hunting elk and he had a huge rack. About three years later I went with our neighbor who had a moose tag and I called this bull in for him. The rack measured fifty inches . It was sort of sweet revenge for the night he charged us.

The most unusual encounter with a moose happened one fall afternoon as my son-in-law and I were archery hunting elk. As we climbed the mountain, we heard some loud growling and sounds above us. We finally reached an old road so proceeded down it toward the area that might have some elk. Thane and I rounded a bend in the road and saw a cow moose standing just off the lower side with her calf . She had the calf pressed up against the bank and was looking down into the brush below her. The old cow hardly paid any attention to us. Just then the brush erupted with a loud growl of a bear and the cow responded with her own warning reply to the predator. We realized the bear wanted her calf for lunch. The cow and bear were in a large patch of thimble berries that were just high enough to conceal the bear from us. We moved about thirty feet past the cow and I gave a blow on my cow elk call. The bear decided elk might be easier and I could see the thimble berries move as it came at us very fast. I came to a full draw waiting to shoot the bear at about ten feet , when the thought entered my brain that this could be a grizzly bear. A big black head appeared just feet away but it saw me before I could release an arrow into the chest . The bear took off down hill and all was quiet. The cow gathered up her calf and started to leave. After taking a few steps, she turned to looked back and seemed to be thanking us for saving her calf. We didn't find any elk that day but I didn't care.

An eighty one year young friend named Kenny drew a moose permit for the last half of September. Today was the last day for his hunt slot. Kenny put in the time and miles looking for a bull moose but had warm weather most of his hunting period. I went out with him one afternoon last week and we walked a few miles on an old road that usually has a bull hanging out this time of year. We couldn't even find a recent track so went and sat at a beaver pond that was covered with tracks but no moose showed up that evening. I was amazed how physically fit he is. He never tired.

Yesterday I went out with Kenny again and we stopped to glass an large clear cut that moose heavily use do to the great food available. We glassed and checked out every dark spot hoping a bull would be seen. No luck. So we went up the road and checked out two more areas but could not find a moose. As we drove back down the road along that first area I saw something that looked out a place and told Kenny to stop. Six hundred yards away on the opposite hillside was a bull feeding. I gave out a cow call to tell him that he was a good looking hunk and the bull immediately turned and started down the hill to find the cow. Kenny and I dove over the side and worked our way down the mountain until we were about hundred yards from a creek that dissected the clear cut. I had Kenny set up by a large stump and I stayed above him and continued cow calling to the bull. I also threw in some bull grunts to let him know another bull liked this beautiful long legged gal. He never answered back which surprised me but soon showed up on the opposite side of the creek . Kenny took a steady rest and fired. The bull lurched and ran off out of sight. I cow called again and got a glimpse of his rack which suddenly disappeared as if he went down. I was so excited for Kenny that I could hardly contain myself from shouting. Kenny appeared quite calm. We proceeded to where I had last seen the bull and there he laid. Later, my son-in-law Vance and his son-in-law Larry came and helped us pack it out. The full moon came up over the mountain just before we reached the trucks and completed a perfect hunt. I forgot to mention the bull had a forty six inch spread.

I learned a few things hunting with this great guy. Patience, patience, patience. Proverbs 14:29 says a patient man has great understanding and Kenny sure does. Kenny kept the faith that he still had ample opportunity to bag a moose.

Kenny also taught me something else on the previous hunt. A large green trash bag make a great rain coat.

Watching Our Backside

Ravens are mentioned in the Bible several times. It was the first bird Noah released , they fed Elijah morning and evening, and God says he provides food for their young. I have watched them with interest over the years and have seen them use their intellect at times to accomplish their mission.

Once while tractor mowing a field, a raven discovered I was flushing out mice so it took advantage of the opportunity and caught several fleeing mice right beside the mower. We observed one once while elk hunting that found something to it's liking under a tree limb. After trying to bend over and peck on the underside for a while; it decided to just hang on with it's feet and swing upside down to get it's meal. One fall in Alaska a client and I were sitting on a mountain side watching the valley for caribou when two ravens landed on the remains of a recent caribou kill about one hundred yards from us. They were eating away when a grizzly bear rushed at them and claimed their meal. The ravens flew uphill about fifty yards to discuss the situation. Shortly they both flew back to the bear who was busy with it's meal. One raven hovered just above the bear taunting it until the bear chased it up the hill about one hundred yards. The other raven took up dining on the caribou. The bear realized it's meal was being pecked away by the other raven so it charged down to it with amazing speed . That raven then harassed the bear until it chased it up the hill and the other raven took it's turn feasting. The ravens repeated this scene for nearly an hour until they had enough to eat and left the enraged bear to finish it's meal. We backed off a ways as I was sure the bear would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

Recently while elk hunting I saw a raven come gliding over a ridge in the afternoon heat , allowing the thermals to keep it going. It seemed to be enjoying the day and was oblivious to a fast moving object approaching from the rear. A falcon had set it's sights on the raven and was closing in a a remarkable speed. The raven didn't realize it was lunch until the falcon was just inches away from the raven's tail. The raven went into several dives to try and shake it off but the swift predator matched every move the raven made. They soon disappeared over another ridge so I don't know who won that contest. It didn't look good for the raven. It should have been watching behind.

People are like the raven as we go through life thinking all is well , yet we don't see trouble coming. Satan likes to catch Christians off guard. What can we do? Jesus told his disciples to pray and watch. What did they do? They feel asleep. The disciples later realized the power of prayer and how it protected them from Satan's arrows.

Prayer protects us and keeps the communication lines open to God. Praying with other believers is better yet. Remember, Satan has no power when God is involved.

Hitting Your Target

There was a television program on recently that had 2 man sniper teams in a national competition at Fort Benning, Georgia. They were from the Army Rangers, Marines , and Great Britain and put through real life scenarios of sniper engagement. The weapons varied from automatic rifles , bolt actions, and 50 caliber Barrett sniper rifles. I found it interesting that they are two man teams that rely on each other for safety and precision. Jesus sent his disciples out in two's so they could face the enemy together. He knew they were in a spiritual war and would do better with a partner. They could also identify the enemy better as a team.

Shots from the 50 caliber were from 500 meters to one and a half miles away. One of the rangers was asked how successful they are at hitting a target at one an a half miles away on the first shot. He calmly said, " Eighty percent of the time." And I thought I was a good shot with my rifle. I once shot a bull elk with one shot at 525 yards after estimating the distance carefully for several minutes. Ardella shot one bull through the lungs with her 30-06 at 700 yards. The next year she saw two white tail bucks 500 yards across a canyon and asked if she could shoot one. " Sure go right ahead." I replied. She hit the buck through the heart and he piled up in a fir thicket. It was not a fun pack.

As Christians we need to learn we do better in pairs when confronting Satan's army. They are well camouflaged and really can blend in. Most people, including many Christians don't even see them nor if they do, can they hit their target.

Ephesians 6: 10 through 20 tells us how to prepare for the war that is raging around us. . First is to seek the power of the Lord. Identify the foe which are the powers of this dark world. Put on the armor of God and stand firm. Most importantly is to pray in the Spirit so we may make known the mystery of the gospel to others.

I meet every week with a band of brothers to study and pray. As a team we are able to identify the enemy and through God's help we have won some spectacular victories. As a Christian, you need to find a buddy or platoon that will help you in the fight we are waging.

God Bless

Calling Libby Outdoorsmen

This past weekend we had a booth at the Nordic Fest show in Libby , Montana and it was a great time seeing old friends and meeting some new ones. On Friday evening we enjoyed the musicians that gathered at our friend's deck and filled the air with wonderful melodies. It was as close to heaven as we could experience on earth. Thank you Trent and Peggy!

I met several people who expressed interest in an outdoor men's ministry in Libby. One man in particular came back Sunday morning to get a card and we talked about how we can worship in the outdoors and about elk hunting. If you read this , would you please contact me as I would like to talk to you more. You can use this email or wdnwings@televar.com . Also, anyone else that has an interest in an outdoor ministry starting in Libby, please contact me. I feel one could be launched with a few key people. It can impact the community for Christ and change families.

Jesus used twelve ordinary guys to change the world. So some hunters and fishermen from Libby can also use the same power to change lives .

Power And Majesty Belong To The Lord

Opening morning was just like I wrote about in the previous blog. The sunrise was incredible over the Selkirks as I descended the steep slope . I went slowly looking for mule deer or elk and the smell of alpine fir filled my nostrils. I stopped just above a sea of tangled alder and cow called softly a few times. Shortly a weak bugle of a young bull answered back so I called again trying to pin point his location. No response was heard from him. As the morning sun heated up the slope I headed back to camp. The following days were hot and not much animal movement was seen.

On Friday afternoon the heat intensified and a black ominous cloud developed on the western horizon. I watched it in interest as it crept closer. Slowly the Selkirk range thirty miles to the west disappeared and the black monster descended to the valley floor. It looked like the whole area to the west had vanished . There was a lower ridge about a half mile away and it was approaching the ridge like an army on a mission. As it started to engulf the ridge , white wind clouds suddenly appeared . With long fingers they blasted over the top and down the side; the fingers looked like they were trying to tear apart everything in their path. The white fingers then dashed for our mountain top and came over us in creeping silence. Then the wind force hit us with a blast like I have never experienced , along with driving rain . I rushed for my truck and it was like riding through a car wash. The long spiny fingers plunged down the other side of the mountain and the whole world just disappeared. It became very dark even though the time was about four in the afternoon. I thought this must be some what like happened at the Crucifixion; it seemed very eerie. Ardella, Jolene, and the girls rode out the storm in the camper as the winds pounded away at them. My tent looked like it would go airborne and disappear off the ridge at any moment. Slowly things returned to normal.

As the storm was raging, I could only think of God's awesome power and how He has complete control over it. I thought of Psalm 77 where it says, "Your ways , O God , are holy. What god is so great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples." It also says " The clouds poured down water, the skies resounded with thunder,your arrows flashed back and forth. Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind, your lightning lit up the world; the earth trembled and quaked. That pretty much sums up the feeling we had as we rode out the storm at 6,400 feet.

Answering The Call

Next Thursday the millions of stars from the night will slowly give way to the hues of the morning light. At first will be shades of blues and violets followed by reds and yellows of the dawn over the Cabinet Mountains of northern Idaho. As this is occurring, I will be descending 1000 feet down a mountain side into the wilds of elk country. I will travel past the tall spruce that stand as sentinels to God, through red huckleberry brush and around mountain ash bushes laden with bright orange berries. All my senses will be an alert as I may not be the only predator there. The area is home to black and grizzly bears , mountain lions , and the newly arrived predator- the wolf. Where the mountain side meets the tangle of the awful alder brush is the beginning of a small stream . I will quietly stop in some cover and cow call to see if there is a bull in the area that would be using the headwaters for his muddy wallow. If need be I may also grunt and squeal at him to challenge his authority over this area. I'm hoping he answers the call. I wait now in great anticipation.

As I thought about this opening day for elk hunting, I was reminded how God asks us to answer the call. Jesus said He waits at the door and knocks. What Door? I have never heard him knock on my front house door. No, He knocks at the door to our hearts. That can be frightening to most people. A few months ago, God came to me in a very audible way and told me to start Into The Wild Ministries. Not only that, He told me to go register it on the web. Now me of little faith tried to tell Him the name would surely be taken. So I searched for Into The Wild and yes it was already registered. I said " See God , I told you ." Then HE said " Put Ministries with it." Guess what, it worked! I don't know where His call is going to lead me but I know it will be an exciting journey. He has put me in touch with people across this nation and some in far off lands in just a short time. Just prior to His beckoning, I said that I would never write a blog. He must have laughed over that one.

It is important that we listen for His call and often that faint knock on the door to our hearts. He is the Creator of Heaven and Earth but He wants us to walk with Him and be His friend. That is absolutely awesome! He can use YOU, will you let Him? Remember Philippians4:13