Gun deer hunt takes stand near home this year
RAYMOND - The mercury read 28 when we gathered at 0-dark-thirty Saturday.
Blaze orange clothing hung outside camp headquarters. Frost ringed the collars, as well as the pumpkins in the yard.
Jim Linstroth of Raymond, Rob Joseph of Sturtevant and I briefly gathered to confirm our hunting plans.
Linstroth rubbed an aged can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew for good luck (it's a family thing), and then we set out to our respective stands.
Although each of us had made a similar pre-dawn trek dozens of times on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, we still carried a sense of excitement and anticipation unique to the day.
Saturday marked the opening of Wisconsin's 170th gun deer season.
So many of the elements on Saturday, from the brisk air to our trusty centerfire rifles to our emotions, were consistent with past hunts.
But there was one significant difference: We were hunting amid a global health crisis.
Other years we might have selected a hunting location out of tradition or scouting reports.
This year the coronavirus pandemic was the reason we hunted close to home. In keeping with recommendations from health officials, our objective was to avoid travel and reduce risks of contracting or spreading COVID-19.
In fact, Linstroth was hunting at home. He invited Joseph and me to join him for this year's gun deer season on his 22-acre property in northern Racine County.
Linstroth has owned it for 27 years and lived there for 25. Set amid farm country that's trending toward suburbia, the area is not wild but it's not without wildlife, either.
A bald eagle made a mid-morning fly over, and dozens of sandhill cranes foraged in a nearby soybean field and marsh.
Linstroth has dug ponds on his property, restored a prairie and planted oaks and pines, all for the benefit of the wild ones.
Of course white-tailed deer are plentiful in the area.
But it was the first time Linstroth, 66, ever hunted the gun opener on his own land.
"With everything that's going on, I figure it's best to stick around home this year," said Linstroth, a retired teacher and swimming coach. "We might see more deer, too, if that matters."
In fact, tagging a deer has been a secondary consideration for Linstroth for most of his hunting life.
"The main things are tradition and camaraderie," Linstroth said. "This year, we'll have to change the tradition, but we'll still get friends together."
Linstroth, Joseph (61) and I all grew up in Racine County and have known each other for 40 years. We were teammates on softball teams in Racine leagues for many of those years.
But in Wisconsin, it's not uncommon to find you also have deer hunting in common.
Deer hunting has always been important to humans, either as sustenance or recreation.
The first regulated deer hunt in the state was in 1851 when officials created a
A hunter's view from a tree stand in Racine County on opening morning of the 2020 Wisconsin nine-day gun deer hunting season.
partially closed season, according to the Department of Natural Resources.
The activity soared in popularity after World War II, an historical period that also coincided with continued regrowth of the northern forest after the "big cutover" of white pines and other old growth timber in the late 1800s and early 1900s.
The younger forest provided good conditions for the deer herd, which blossomed above pre-settlement densities and helped fuel the rise in recreational hunting, according to wildlife biologists.
Many World War II military veterans established traditions of hunting in northern Wisconsin.
A case in point was Army veteran Eugene Linstroth, Jim's father. Eugene was among the U.S. forces who went ashore on the beachhead established at Normandy and spent the rest of the war in the European theater.
After his military service he returned to Racine, became a mailman and started a family.
One of Eugene's favorite times of the year was mid-November when he'd drive north to put up a wall tent and establish a deer hunting camp in the big woods near Mellen.
When Jim was a youngster, he remembers the excitement that surrounded his father's return from the hunt. Did he have a deer? What did he see?
Soon enough Jim was allowed to go along with his father. The tradition continued for many years; eventually the lodging evolved to renting a room at Whitecaps Mountain Resort in Upson.
As Eugene aged, the roles switched
and Jim and his brother John, also of Raymond, began taking their father on the hunt.
In fact, Eugene hunted with his sons in northern Wisconsin until the year he died at age 88.
Since then Jim has continued going to the Mellen and Upson areas with friends, including Joseph.
"The last time we got a deer was three years ago," Linstroth said. "But what we like so much about the big woods is the space and the lack of hunters."
Linstroth and Joseph would have ventured back to northern Wisconsin this year if it weren't for the pandemic.
Fortunately, the option for a local hunt was right outside Linstroth's door.
In a year in which the Green Bay Packers are playing in an empty stadium and most kids are doing their school from home, it follows that even most deer hunting traditions would change.
Since 2008 I have traveled around the state on opening weekend of the gun deer season in an effort to tell a wide variety of stories of our state's leading hunting tradition.
This year I not only wanted to adhere to the best advice from health professionals but also respect the recommendation from the DNR to keep outdoor recreation "within our communities" as I told a gun deer opener story.
So Linstroth's invitation to hunt on his property hit on all cylinders.
It was 20 minutes from my current home, and Racine County is my place of birth. Without bringing in legal consultation, I reasoned Raymond fit at least the spirit of the recommendations if not the letter.
Our hunting party gathered only outdoors and even then maintained social distancing.
I was confident we could conduct the hunt with the minimum risk of passing or contracting the virus.
Truth be told, there was little sacrifice.
I hunted from a ladder stand set against a red oak overlooking a prairie on the southwest of the property. The handsome tree held a nearly full complement of curled, brown leaves.
Linstroth still hunted in a woodlot to the northeast, and Joseph was in a ground blind overlooking a prime deer trail to the east.
The landscape was still at dawn; the wind was a barely perceptible 5 mph out of the west northwest.
Northern cardinals were active in the shrubs around me, giving constant "chip, chip" calls. A "crunch, crunch" of brush at 6:45 a.m. raised my heart rate. But after 15 seconds only a gray squirrel emerged from the underbrush.
About that time Linstroth spotted two does in a winter wheat field to the east of his property. The deer ambled south and out of range.
At 6:54 a single rifle shot sounded, but from well north of Linstroth's property.
About 7:15 the prairie to my east lit up like a thousand neon dots as crystals of frost on Queen Anne's lace and goldenrod were highlighted by the rising sun.
As you might expect, the hunt was a mix of experiences: At 8 a flock of sandhills called from overhead as the sounds of a barking dog and the drone of highway traffic also carried over the prairie.
I kept my ears pealed for the sound of footfalls.
At 8:34 another rifle report echoed into the area, but it was from a good distance to the northwest.
As the sun rose into a cobalt sky and the air warmed to 40 degrees at noon, there were no additional deer sightings for our group.
We convened for a lunch of O&H Danish Kringle and juice on the tailgate of Linstroth's pick-up and shared our morning observations.
All in all, it had been a quiet first period of the 2020 gun deer season. But I've hunted on prime deer properties in Buffalo County, some of Wisconsin's most expensive hunting ground, and not seen a deer in two days.
Linstroth set out the 1996 can of beef stew that he and his brother John pass between them as a reminder of hunts with their father and a good omen.
The 2020 gun hunt will continue as it started, close to home. And by being smart and staying safe this year, next year the possibilities may be endless.