Embracing Montana's rugged beauty

I paused along a ridge in the Little Belt Mountains near Great Falls, Mont. with my oldest son, Joe. It was the day after Thanksgiving and we took a moment to soak in the sprawling scene before us.

Rising up like a crown jewel was the snowcapped peak of Mt. Peterson to our west. To the north lay miles of grassy fields where cows and wildlife alike graze to their hearts' content.

There was a sermon here, not so much in the simple reminder I offered of God's glorious creation stretched out around us, but in the scene itself. The majestic mountains, timber and grasslands glorified the Lord more than my words ever could.

Topping it all off like a layer of whipped cream was a thin curtain of clouds through which the afternoon sun shone like a filtered spotlight. It provided enough rays to illuminate the mountains and fields, but not so much to hurt our eyes gazing directly at it.

This breathtaking scene had the perfection and glow of an oil painting. Partly because of my age, and partly because of my sense of awe and wonder, I traversed the ridge slowly, with many pauses, as Joe and I made our way back toward where we had gotten out of the truck more than a mile away.

There was another reason our steps were labored on the alpine landscape -- we were dragging a mule deer off the mountain. This was a well-earned prize, gained after a short stalk, a much longer tracking effort and, finally, a finishing shot taken more than a mile from where Joe had taken his first shot at this magnificent 3x4 buck.

Hunters are often glad when success comes quickly and easily. It could have happened that way for Joe, but, in the end, I'm overjoyed that we endured generous amounts of hard work, stress and perseverance before finally standing over Joe's first mule deer.

This event capped a wonderful, seven-day adventure for our family of six in Great Falls, on our annual trip to see Bob and Sharon Guditis, their daughter, Jessica, her husband, Jerry, and their three children the week of Thanksgiving.

I felt very blessed to be with Joe as he executed a great stalk on the muley. Though only 18, he has seasoned hunting skills that have come through six years of experience, plus a couple more of observing me as he waited to turn old enough to buy his first big-game license. He has harvested three wild turkeys and had taken four deer before this trip, including a beautiful 10-point whitetail in Minnesota when he was 15.

Yet, he seemed to have suffered a bit of buck fever when he took aim at this buck. We originally spotted it from a gravel road on our way out of the mountains and back into the valley after a morning of hunting on private land owned by Bob, who is the father of my first wife, Jennifer (who died of cancer in 1995), and is Joe's biological grandfather.

The buck was several hundred yards uphill and Joe and I used the contour of the land to make our way up to the deer's level. Joe had led another nice stalk two days earlier with his brother, Andy, and Aunt Jessica that led to Andy shooting a nice 8-pointer and Jessica taking a smaller buck that trotted in as Joe was field dressing Andy's deer.

Thus, Joe was confident he could lead us to a shootable distance. In fact, as we neared the top of the ridge, he motioned for me to hang back before he had even spotted the buck. He knew it was just over a small rise and he tried to get himself ready to poke over the top and take a shot.

He paused and said he needed to calm down. He could feel his heart beating rapidly because he had climbed the hill quickly -- and because his nerves were a bit rattled.

Finally, he slowly crested the hill and looked over. When he quickly ducked down, I knew that he had spotted the buck. He raised his rifle and slowly eased back up. Then, he aimed and fired. He turned to me after the shot and I asked him what happened. He said the buck, along with a doe feeding near him, turned and ran.

I quickly started scrambling up to him. After just a few steps, I saw the head and neck of a muley buck. I whispered this to Joe, who shot back his reply: "Dad, it's not him."

Realizing it was a second buck, I quickly chambered a round in my 7mm rifle and hustled a quick shot at the buck. It dropped immediately and, after a quick inspection to confirm that it was down to stay, we went off after Joe's buck.

The search was stressful and discouraging for Joe, who walked over several small rises without seeing the buck nor any sign that it was hit. Farther down the ridge, we encountered broken timber and a stand of thick brush about the size of a football field. We both realized that the buck easily could have picked a spot to hide here and never be spotted by us. This is a classic trick whitetails often employ.

I could feel Joe's heart sink as he scanned the timber in desparation. Meanwhile, I turned to the Lord in prayer and asked both God and St. Anthony (who has never let me down) to help find the buck.

We continued walking in the timber, then neared the end of the ridge. We reached the edge of the first stand of timber, then saw an opening of about 50 yards before a second strip started.

This was it, I thought. Either we would find the buck here or give up the search. Joe tiptoed ahead, looking across the opening. Then, he ducked quickly and backed up.

Before he spoke, I knew he saw something. "It's a deer," he said.

"Is it the buck?" I asked. He scanned further and said the buck was there. Actually, there was a group of three deer -- the buck, a doe and a smaller buck. The doe was standing still and the bigger buck was coming up from behind, with the smaller buck following along.

I told Joe to go ahead and shoot. He lined up his rifle, but couldn't steady the crosshairs on the deer. He then asked for the shooting tripod that I had brought and I set it up for him. He put his rifle on it, paused and fired. The buck wheeled and ran over the end of the ridge and out of sight. Despite the buck's disappearance -- again -- I had a feeling Joe had made a fatal shot this time.

As we waited to contemplate our next move, the small buck made his. The doe ran only about 25 yards or so after the shot, then stopped and stood broadside to us. In a matter of seconds, the smaller buck came up from behind and seized the opportunity to breed the doe. Joe and I got to witness a rare moment in the lives of deer. We marveled at the chance to see such a private act, then quickly turned our attention to the other buck.

We walked to where the buck had been standing, and Joe soon found a good blood trail. We crested the hill and soon saw the buck bedded at the edge of the timber -- still alive. Joe fired a pair of finishing shots and then we walked over to his trophy.

I asked him what he felt at that moment and his answer was, relief. That's understandable. It was agonizing for him to think that he might lose this buck, especially when it was so close for his first two shots. He estimates the deer was within 100 yards both times. As it turned out, he did, in fact, hit the deer with one of those shots, but the bullet went low, striking the deer in the front leg.

As we talked about the experience with Bob later, he noted that God often surprises us with his blessings, in order that we will walk away knowing he is in charge -- not us.

I couldn't disagree. The trip had several pleasant surprises, which usually came right after we faced stiff challenges. For example, we hunted hard the first two days and got skunked before I finally got a whitetail doe on the third day when we followed a group of does that ran for a while,  then hunkered down in a small ditch on a piece of state land that offered a perfect stalking opportunity.

In the end, it was a successful, enjoyable and glorious week. The same day that Joe got his buck, Jerry shot a big 8-point whitetail, and his 12-year-old son, Brandon, took his first deer, a small doe.

So, seven of the eight members of our hunting party harvested deer. Bob was the only one who did not fill his deer tag. But, we ended up giving him Joe's buck, which we are having made into jalapeno pepper sausage, his favorite.

Tonight, we will celebrate the hunt with one of our favorite wild game dishes -- grilled venison tenderloins. I greatly look forward to that, and also to the prayer of thanksgiving we will say to the Lord before we partake of the harvest from his bountiful creation.

Heartache

For deer hunters, one of the greatest highs is to see a big buck and take a perfect, broadside shot. And, one of the greatest lows is failing to recover a deer that you shot at and hit.

My son, Andy, experienced both on the same day Saturday. Hunting from the same stand where he had hunted on opening day, he saw a nice buck walk out into a pasture at 7:20 a.m. He made a grunt with his voice to get the buck to stop, then took careful aim and squeezed the trigger.

The deer hopped, then ran across the field, jumped a fence and went into the woods. Andy was so excited and confident that he had hit the deer in the vitals that he climbed down from the stand after only 10 minutes and went looking for the deer.

That proved to be a critical mistake. The deer was hit in the stomach and not the vital organs, so it jumped up and ran off when Andy entered the woods. It kept going and Andy never found it. A stomach wound requires a long waiting period -- up to several hours or even overnight -- before recovery can be made.

Andy was just not patient enough. So, he got to experience the greatest heartache of deer hunting. It's the second time this year and third time overall that he has not been able to recover a deer that he had hit.

As a father, I tried to figure out a way to help him deal with it. But, I was struggling with it myself. I really wanted to see him experience the exhilaration of downing a big buck. I was probably as disappointed as he was.

In the end, I just told him I felt bad for him and reminded him that he did the best he could. Sometimes, I said, things just don't work out. Fortunately, we have another hunt ahead of us, this time in Montana.

We should see plenty of animals there, so, hopefully, Andy will get another chance. And, Joe and I should finally see something. I think this year is the first time I have failed to see a deer the entire season. I'm sure the warm weather and standing corn had a lot to do with that. Hopefully, we'll have better results next year.

Who knows? Maybe enough good things will happen out west that we'll forget all about our deer hunting troubles in Minnesota.

Where are the deer?

When it comes to deer hunting, it's always hard to know what to expect when you sit in your stand opening day. I had a feeling this year might be tough, but I never imagined the kind of results that I and my two oldest sons have had.

Between the three of us, hunting on different properties near Red Wing, we saw just one deer all weekend. Andy got a shot at a small, antlerless deer Saturday morning. He hit it, but we were not able to recover the deer. That is always painful.

Meanwhile, my son, Joe, and I did not see a deer all day, or on Sunday. In both places, there was standing corn, and it's natural to conclude that most, if not all, of the deer were in the corn. In fact, when I talked to the landowner where I hunt last night, his comment was, "the deer are in the corn, laughing."

He might be right. We have taken a total of four deer off of his property during the last three seasons and have seen more than that. But, this year, nothing. I'm trying to figure out what's going on, but I don't have any answers. The season where we hunt, Zone 3, lasts until sundown on Sunday. I'm going to call the landowner Saturday to see if his corn is down. If so, I may try to get out Sunday evening. Spilled corn from a freshly harvested field is a magnet to deer.

That will be my last hope for tagging a deer in Minnesota. The good news is, next weekend our family leaves for Montana, where we will spend the entire week of Thanksgiving. I have two tags, one an either-sex license for either a whitetail or mule deer, and the other an antlerless whitetail license.

There are lots of deer in Montana and we saw quite a few last year, so I'm confident I'll have a good chance to fill both tags. And, Joe and Andy each have special youth licenses good for both an either-sex whitetail or mulie and an either-sex elk. Who knows? Maybe we'll be bringing home some elk meat.

One thing is almost certain -- this journey should be more fruitful than our Minnesota hunt.

Hard work and walleyes

I generally don't think of fishing for walleyes as work. No. 1, I don't get paid; No. 2, it's fun!

Yet, on my journey earlier this week to Lake of the Woods on my annual fall walleye fishing adventure, it seemed as though a high level of exertion was necessary to catch fish.

Or, perhaps, more accurately, some persistence was required. Normally, by this time of year, walleyes are pouring into the Rainy River from the main lake in waves, chasing shiners that migrate there every fall. So, it's a matter of picking a spot in the river, anchoring and tossing a jig and minnow overboard. Often, the wait under optimal conditions is less than a minute for a bite -- and, a very aggressive, swallow-the-jig type of bite.

Not so on this trip. Even though the water temperature was 42 degrees, there weren't streams of walleyes invading the river. Rather, it was more of a trickle. The good news was, there were enough fish for my friend, Pete Wolney, and I to catch plenty for dinner and bring home a limit. The bad news was, we waited much longer than usual for bites, sometimes up to an hour.

But, I am not complaining. After all, I did land a nice, 23-inch walleye, plus we had one flurry on the trip in which we caught eight fish in an hour Tuesday morning. I caught five of those fish, which included back-to-back 18-inchers and a 19-incher, the biggest keeper of the trip. With a protected slot of 19 1/2 to 28 inches, the three nice fish I caught are some of the best eaters an angler could ask for.

Interestingly, during the time of that flurry, I had the unusual problem of ice buildup on my rod guides. That, more than anything, made me wonder if Pete and I were nuts for fishing under these conditions. That morning, the mercury dipped to 18 degrees and only got into the upper 30s. So, we spent much of the day fishing in sub-freezing weather.

Of course, cold doesn't bother me nearly as much when the fish are biting. Unfortunately, they weren't biting at all on the main lake, which is where we decided to try Tuesday morning due to a good report we got before the trip.

Last week, anglers were catching lots of fish out on the lake past a narrow opening in a long island called "the gap." But, strong northwest winds over several days churned up the water and made it dirty, shutting down the lake bite. We didn't get a bite in an hour and a half and heard similar reports from other anglers who also tried it.

Then, we came back into the river and anchored on one of our favorite spots. That's when we had the eight-fish flurry. That was worth the whole trip for me. But, we caught more fish the next morning to replace what we had eaten the night before. This is our sixth or seventh year of going up in the fall, and we have taken home our limit every time.

We worked harder for it this year than other years, but our persistence paid off. So did our previous years of experience on the river. We have several spots stored in our memories that rarely let us down. Plus, we have learned to put our time in when the conditions are tough. We especially target dawn and dusk, when nice flurries often occur. However, this year, our best flurry happened from 11 a.m. to noon.

Sometimes, that happens. I'm just glad we were in the right spot when a good wave of fish went through. Now, it's on to deer hunting, which opens on Saturday. We will face unusually mild temperatures and lots of standing corn. That could make the hunting tough.

But, I'm fresh off of a fishing trip where persistence made the difference. I plan to sit in my stand all day Saturday and I'm encouraging my two sons, Joe and Andy, to do the same. Last year, I got my deer at 12:30. Because the rut is in full swing, deer should move even if it's warm.

That's what I plan to keep telling myself on Saturday.

Davern hill one more time

For the second time, I conquered the Davern hill near my home in St. Paul. I made the four-and-a-half-mile jog one week after I did it for the first time.

This time, I hit the pavement at 5 a.m. The early start time was needed because my friend, Pete Wolney, planned on picking me up at 7 to go on our annual fall fishing trip to Lake of the Woods. We normally go earlier than this, but the walleyes have been late in their annual migration from the main lake into the Rainy River.

In fact, the major run still hasn't happened, so many of the fish are still in the lake. Fortunately, they are biting well and anglers who make the trip out past the gap and into the main basin are being rewarded with limits of walleyes.

Hopefully, the winds won't be too strong and we'll be able to get out there, too. I will have a report from our trip later in the week. Then, after that, it's the deer hunting opener on Saturday!

Where are the birds?

I had a fall wild turkey hunt last week down in Goodhue County. I hunted properties near Cannon Falls and Red Wing. I had three pieces of land in all and I hunted all three on Wednesday and Thursday.

But, the birds were a no-show. I didn't see or hear a single bird, nor did a see as much as a turkey track, turkey feather or turkey dropping. It looked as though the birds just weren't using any of these properties.

That is the frustration of fall turkey hunting. In the spring, the birds are in much smaller groups and more spread out. Usually, if there is adequate food and habitat, there will be some birds around.

Not so in the fall. The turkeys gather in very large flocks of as many as 50 birds or more. That means feast or famine when it comes to hunting. Either, you encounter lots of birds or none at all. This year, for me, it was none at all.

It might be tempting to blame the cold, wet weather for  the poor hunting. But, it's really due to the flocking nature of birds in the fall. If I want to be successful next year, I'll have to do some scouting before the season to find out where the birds are. The good news is, nearly every farmer who has birds would like to see the flock reduced. So, getting permission to hunt fall turkeys on private land is easy.

I did experience something very enjoyable in the woods last week, however. I saw a total of seven deer during two afternoons of hunting, two the first day and five the second. In one case, I had a nice buck cross in front of me only about 25 to 30 yards away. That was cool!

It got me to thinking about deer season, which is less than three weeks away. The deer appear to be moving right now and the activity will only pick up in the next few weeks. I can't wait!

Turning attention to whitetails

Yesterday was an ambitious day for me in the woods of Goodhue County. It was time to do some scouting and stand preparation for our deer hunt Nov. 7. I went down to our deer-hunting properties with my son, Joe, my friend, Bernie Schwab, and his son, Chris, who is not old enough to hunt, but definitely old enough to be interested in the rituals of the hunt.

We worked hard and long to get things ready and got most of the work done. We performed the arduous task of moving a stand about 200 yards and setting it up, then did some work on a tripod stand on a different property. I have taken two deer from that stand and am hoping for a third this year. And, we went to cut some shooting lanes near a stand from which Bernie shot a beautiful 10-point buck last year.

As it turned out, someone (probably the landowner) kind of beat us to the punch. When we got to the back corner of the property where our stand is located, we discovered a bunch of fallen trees near the edge of the woods. The line of freshly-cut brush and trees extended for quite a ways, starting near where the stand is located. I wondered how this would affect deer movement.

There was similar clearing done not far from my tripod stand. It seems like this kind of tree removal happens about every other year on at least one of the properties we hunt. And, there are often other curve balls to go with it, like other hunters showing up unexpectedly (including trespassers), vandalism to our stands, and, of course, nasty weather.

Each year, it seems, there's always something. But, such things serve as a reminder that change is a fact of life, and a fact of the Christian life as well. Jesus warns us of this, and even challenges us to be ready for it.

I have thought about this lately and, in my self-reflection, discovered that I very much like to keep things as they are -- the good things, anyway. I am often quick to complain -- and complain loudly -- when the curve balls of life come sweeping in. I always want and hope to adapt well and quickly. But in things like deer hunting, I like success and favorable conditions to last year after year.

But, every year God shows me that change is inevitable. At the same time, he has also shown me how well he can work in such circumstances. Last year was the worst year for bad weather and curve balls, yet our hunting party of five managed to harvest three deer on opening day, including Bernie's 10-pointer. Amazingly, it was the most deer our party has gotten in the six years we have hunted together.

Based primarily on that, I am optimistic this year. We have already faced curve balls, and there may be more to come. But, I believe God will bless our hunt. Does that mean three more deer? Or four? Or, even five? Or, perhaps, none?

I don't know. At this point, I will merely thank God for the opportunity to spend time in the woods with Joe, my No. 2 son, Andy, Bernie, Chris, and Bernie's oldest son, Dan, who will be trying for his second deer this year. And, I will wait confidently for the blessings he bestows on us Nov. 7.

Let the hunt begin!

One of the hunts I'm very much looking forward to this fall is one in which I will not be carrying a weapon. It takes place in early October and I don't mind one bit that I won't have any chance at harvesting an animal.

Rather, I will pin my hopes on my good friend, John Nesheim, who will be participating in a special hunt for the disabled put on by the United Foundation For Disabled Archers (UFFDA). The organization offers its members free, guided hunts on private land using crossbows. John, who had his feet amputated last winter due to severe frostbite, will be going on his first UFFDA hunt and is very excited.

So am I. It will take place near Park Rapids and I am very optimistic that John will have a fun and successful hunt. I pulled together a few of John's friends and we bought him a new crossbow at Schaffer Performance Archery in Burnsville. John Schaffer not only gave us a nice discount on a crossbow, he helped John sight it in so he's all ready to go.

John will have several days to try for a whitetail, and I hope to join him in a blind for at least part of a day, hopefully, more. After all he's been through, first with the amputation and then with the adjustment of using prosthetics, it sure would be nice to see him make a successful shot on a deer.

I'll be praying for him!

Fish and game week

Thanks to a minor mishap that occurred over the weekend, I am eating well this week.

On Saturday evening, just as the wicked thunderstorms were rolling through the metro area, I made a shocking discovery -- the freezer door in my garage was ajar. Several inches may not seem like much, but it was enough to thaw some of the wild game and fish stored inside the freezer.

Fortunately, I caught it early enough so that nothing spoiled. In fact, only a few items were completely thawed. Others were only thawed on the edges and still frozen in the middle. As a precaution, I took the stuff that was completely thawed out and also pulled out a few partially thawed items.

The hardest hit by the thaw was the meat from the axis deer my son, Joe, shot in Texas during his trip in July. Because the stuff we had tried previously had tasted so good, I wanted  to preserve all of the remaining meat as well as I could. So, I put several packages in the refrigerator and decided to cook them all this week.

Problem was, my son and his two younger brothers were going to leave on Sunday for a week of camp that they go to every year. Not wanting to miss out altogether, he got up early Sunday morning and got the charcoal grill going. I grilled three steaks for him and let him have a nice meal before driving him down to camp.

That night, I did the same thing for my wife, daughter and parents. It was delicious. Yesterday afternoon, I brought in wild turkey/wild rice casserole to my fellow employees at The Catholic Spirit. Then, last night, I fried several walleye fillets for my wife and I. Tonight, it's more grilled axis deer steaks, plus a few beef tenderloins. Later in the week, I'm going to make axis deer stew and venison cheeseburger on a stick.

It's a lot of cooking, but I don't mind. The results are worth it. I'm just glad I didn't have to throw anything out. It's probably not a bad idea to empty out the freezer a little bit. I will be hunting wild turkeys in the fall, plus my two oldest boys and I each have tags for deer in both Minnesota and Montana. And, the boys each have a youth elk tag for Montana.

If we are even reasonably successful, we could fill the freezer fast. Could be a great fall ahead!

Great progress

I had breakfast this morning with my friend, John Nesheim, who lost his feet after falling into a ravine in January and suffering severe frostbite. It has been seven months since that happened and I am happy to report that he is in good spirits and making great progress with his artificial feet.

He is walking on his own and driving. In fact, he picked me up at my house and we drove to the restaurant together. Doctors had told him back in January that he would get fitted for his prosthetic feet in July or August and would begin learning how to use them shortly thereafter. But, he has surpassed their expectations.

He believes the prayers of many have supplied the grace to accelerate the learning curve. He said he felt ready from the start and has progressed quickly. It's great to see him moving around so well. I asked him if he could climb into a fishing boat and he replied that he would like to try. So, I hope to take him out yet this summer.

Also, he has started learning to shoot with a crossbow to get ready for a special deer hunt for disabled archers in Park Rapids the first weekend in October. It is put on by an organization called the United Foundation For Disabled Archers (UFFDA). John is excited and so am I. He'll have four days to try for a whitetail. It will be a guided hunt on private land -- a premium opportunity.

An important letter

I dropped an envelope in the mail this week that will help a friend fulfill his wish.

John Nesheim lost both of his feet to frostbite in January and has been working through the process of dealing with the amputations and learning how to use his new prosthetic feet. He has told me on more than one occasion that he wants to deer hunt this fall. It's one of his favorite outdoor activities and one he dearly wants to keep doing.

The letter I sent will make that possible. It was an application for a special hunt put on by the United Foundation for Disabled Archers (UFFDA) in Park Rapids in early October. Because he is a first-time applicant, all John has to do is join UFFDA and he will be selected to go on this hunt.

Because this organization caters to disabled hunters, they will take good care of John. He will have a guide to go out with him and he will hunt on private land reserved for the hunters who get picked to go.

I'm very thankful for organizations like this. I was willing to try to put together a hunt for John, which I still might do. But, it's nice to have something already set up and established, something that's designed for people like John. I think he'll have a great time on this hunt. He'll also be able to bring his wife, Maureen. So, it will be a family affair.

As of right now, I'm planning on going, too, to take pictures and possibly write a story. It should  be fun. John is already excited about this opportunity and it gives him something to look forward to. And, it will be good motivation for him to become proficient at using a crossbow.

A hunting he will go

I got some good news from my friend John Nesheim. He was approved by the Minnesota DNR to receive a permit to use a crossbow during the archery deer season. The loss of both his feet and damage to his hands from severe frostbite qualified him for this privilege.

It's nice to know he'll be able to get out in the woods and hunt this fall. He really enjoys deer hunting and his accident in January that caused the frostbite was threatening to keep him from going after whitetails. Now, he'll have that chance, thanks to some quick and compassionate response by the DNR.

I know the DNR takes a lot of heat for the way it manages our state's resources and the hunting and fishing programs. So, I think it's only fair to acknowledge the department for the good things it does. This is definitely one of them.

I hope the people who processed John's permit application know what it means to him to have this opportunity. First, he lost his feet, then his business and has had to struggle with learning how to use a wheelchair and figuring out what he wants to do for a living. At least, he'll have a deer hunt to look forward to this fall.

My heartfelt thanks goes out to the DNR for providing opportunities like this for disabled hunters.

Thinking ahead

I talked to my friend John Nesheim yesterday. He's in good spirits as he learns how to get around in his house in a wheelchair. Just three weeks ago, he was lying in a ravine in Battle Creek Regional Park in St. Paul trying to figure out a way to escape. Now, he's back home and adjusting to life without his feet, which were amputated due to severe frostbite.

As he described the complications of using a wheelchair, he reiterated his desire to deer hunt this fall. And, I assured him that I will be working on it. I have watched hunting videos that featured people in wheelchairs and I have heard about opportunities for disabled hunters. So, I'm confident we can put something together for John. We'll just have to do the research.

Actually, it will be a unique and fun challenge trying to help John go after a whitetail. I have had the honor and blessing of helping my children harvest deer and turkeys. It's just about as fun as doing it myself. I suspect the same will be true of helping John. He's such a great friend and I would love to be there with him as he does something he enjoys so much.

Home at last

My friend, John Nesheim, was able to go home for a visit yesterday. Regions Hospital released him for about seven hours and he was able to wheel his way around the house and visit with family.

According to his wife, Maureen, he is scheduled to go home for good on Wednesday. He has progressed very well after the surgery to amputate his feet Jan. 26 and is ready to leave the hospital. But, he and his family will face many challenges once he gets home.

One of them is making the house wheelchair accessible. It's a one-story home, so that helps. Then, he will have to figure out what to do about work. He did used car sales before his accident Jan. 19 and it looks like he may not be able to continue that. Maureen says it will be at least six months before he'll be able to work.

I got a chance to sit down with John last week and talk more about the two days he was stranded in the ravine at Battle Creek Regional Park in St. Paul three weeks ago and what God did in his life during that time and afterward at Regions Hospital. It is a compelling story and it is the subject of my monthly outdoors column, which will appear in this week's edition of The Catholic Spirit (Feb. 12).

I don't recall the last time I felt nervous about writing a story, but I did before sitting down at the computer this morning to put this one together. There's so much to tell and it's so personal. I want to do a good job and I want God to be glorified and John and Maureen to be honored. John is a dear friend of mine and I continue to be very grateful that he is alive. I told John and Maureen that I want to bring over a venison dinner after they get settled in at home and I plan on keeping my promise.

I also look forward to the opportunity to help John go deer hunting either this year or next. That would be a great thing to see happen.

A visit with John

Last night, I got a chance to visit my friend John Nesheim, who fell into a ravine last Monday and was stranded for two days before being rescued and brought to Regions Hospital in St. Paul. He was in good spirits and I was so glad to have a chance to see him in person.

He is now bracing for the next step in his recovery -- and it's a big one. He said doctors are planning to amputate both of his feet today. The frostbite was so severe that the doctors said they couldn't save his feet. John said he is at peace with it and feels fortunate to be alive.

A friend of his who's a doctor calls it a miracle that John survived. I believe it. In fact, John told me he thought he wasn't going to make it. I'm so happy God spared him and brought him out of the woods alive. I'm sure it must have been agonizing for his wife, Maureen, and daughter, Renee, those two days wondering where he was and waiting to hear from him.

The road ahead is going to be challenging for the Nesheim family. The good news is John and Maureen's faith is strong and they have lots of family members and friends waiting to help, including me.

One of the key people for John will be his brother-in-law, Al Nicklaus, and his wife, Anne. John and Al have been best friends for years and each was best man at the other's wedding. John married Al's sister, Maureen. Al and Anne were at the hospital last night, too, and it was touching to witness their love and care for John. I know they will be there for John and Maureen and I hope I can be of assistance, too. John has done so much for me and has been a great friend for more than two decades.

When my first wife, Jennifer, died of cancer in May of 1995, three of my four brothers decided to take me on a fly-in fishing trip to Canada to get away from it all for a few days. We invited John along and he quickly agreed. On that trip and ever since, John feels more like a brother to me. Last night, we got a chance to laugh about that trip and about how smelly and grubby five guys can get out in the woods for three days. It would sure be great to go on a trip like that again.

Before John's accident, I had told him that my wife, Julie, and I would like to have him, Maureen and Renee over for a wild game dinner. John and Maureen didn't get a deer on their hunt this year, so we wanted to offer them a venison dinner. Our favorite recipe is venison meat pie, using a recipe we got from Anne Nicklaus. I'd sure like to make that for John and Maureen sometime. For now, I'll keep their family in my prayers and encourage others to do the same.

Cooking tips

With Christmas approaching, folks who were fortunate enough to put venison in their freezers will be looking to put some of it on the table, either on Christmas Day or sometime over the holidays.

One of my favorites is venison meat pie. But, there's also venison stew, which we had the other day. Or, even grilled venison steaks. Yes, I know it's pretty cold to be outdoors standing over the grill, but I have done it and will do so again. We have some 30-degree days coming up and that's plenty warm enough to go out and fire up the grill.

So, this is a good time to offer some tips for getting the most out of your venison. One of the most common complaints I get is that the meat tastes too gamey. Another is that it's too tough. I have solutions to both of these problems.

The first will take a little extra time, but it's well worth it. No matter who butchers your deer, there will be silver skin, fat and gristle on the meat. The gamey flavor resides here, so take it all off. It may seem like a time-consuming task, but you won't believe the difference it will make in the taste of your venison. Without this stuff, the meat tastes very mild and even has a little sweetness. I use a fillet knife to do the job. The rule of thumb is this: If it's not red, cut it off.

To prevent toughness, there are two options -- slow cooking in a crock pot or using a meat tenderizer. I bought one a couple of years ago that is fantastic. It is spring loaded and has 48 small blades that pierce the meat. I go over each piece of meat three times, then cook it. The end result is a piece of meat so tender you can cut it with a butter knife.

Here's one last tip: Do NOT overcook your venison. The rule for me is to have it either pink or red in the middle. Also, it usually requires less time on the grill than beef. If you see juice running out of your steaks after you take them off the grill and put them on a platter, you're in business.

Bon appetit and Merry Christmas!

Coming up short

I had a lengthy conversation with my friend, Al, last night about deer hunting. He and his hunting party went down to southeastern Minnesota to take part in the B season, which ran from Nov. 22-30.

They have done well there the past couple of seasons and I was anticipating a good report again this year. But, it ended up being a tough hunt for them. They had some deer sightings, but missed on every shot. That leaves empty freezers this winter, except for a small amount of venison left over from last year.

I felt bad for them. No one enjoys the taste of venison more than Al and his family. In fact, they have a Christmas Day tradition of a venison meal. They'll have some venison, but will have to add beef to feed everyone.

Fortunately, it was a good year of deer hunting for my family, so I offered Al some of the venison in my freezer. He quickly accepted, with the exchange to take place this weekend. I'm happy to help out. Truth is, we have plenty of venison in our freezer, to the point of having too much. So, I have a good reason to share.

Of course, I'm hoping that Al and his group will have a better year next year. However, Al is not sure his dad will join him. They had a longer walk than usual to their hunting spots -- about a mile -- and the trek took a lot out of him. They hunted on public land and their usual short cut across private land to their spot was cut off when the landowner decided this year not to let them cross.

This is a very unfortunate situation, but is symptomatic of a deeper problem of deteriorating relations between landowners and hunters leading to the elimination of access to private land. Frankly, I think a lot of the blame falls on hunters. I have seen and heard of many examples in recent years of hunters abusing their privileges and being jerks to both other hunters and even landowners. I don't blame landowners for getting fed up with all of the hassles of letting people onto their land.

Yet, I wish there was a way to resolve Al's access issue so that his dad can hunt. Being able to hunt with your dad is a fabulous experience and I continue to enjoy that luxury with my own father, who is now 87 and says he wants to hunt wild turkeys in Wisconsin with me again this year. For now, I will be content to help put a little venison on Al's table.

The hunt is over

For most hunters, myself included, the hunting season has drawn to a close. I walk away very satisfied with the fall of 2008. It was memorable, not just for me, but for my children as well.

One of the highlights was shooting my first fall turkey ever. Actually, I almost got two. I have been trying for several years to bag an autumn bird, but something always seemed to go wrong. Then, this year, I tried a new strategy and succeeded in just two hours in Minnesota. In Wisconsin, I took a shot at a bird and missed.

The Minnesota bird came less than a week after my son, Andy, shot his first deer ever, a whitetail doe during Wisconsin's youth deer hunting weekend. Then, I shot a buck in Minnesota and my son, Joe, added a doe to the harvest. Finally, Joe and Andy each shot bucks in Montana.

As a reflected on these hunts, I came across an article in Field and Stream talking about the declining number of hunters and what's causing it. A number of factors were examined, then a heavy finger pointed at parents who are deciding not to take their kids out hunting.

I'm happy -- and a little relieved -- that this is not the case with me. In fact, I have thoroughly enjoyed the five falls in which I have hunted with my two oldest boys. It was an adjustment, at first, from hunting just by myself or with other adults. But, the rewards have been great, especially when the boys have been fortunate enough to get something. Of course, that's not all there is to hunting, but it is thrilling to be there when they see an animal and take a shot. And, I have experienced the added thrill of taking their picture when it's over.

It's a joy I wish more dads could experience. And, yet, I acknowledge that it can be very difficult to take a child out into the field if you have done little or no hunting yourself. Frankly, there are lots of activities that are easier to help your kids do than hunting.

Still, it is worthwhile when you make the effort. Kids are losing their connection with the outdoors and this a great way to reestablish that link. Plus, passing on the tradition to our youth will help ensure the future of hunting. The number of people opposed to hunting is growing, plus the amount of land available to hunters is shrinking. We should not sit idly by and let those trends continue.

I have taken steps to try and put the future of this great sport into the hands of my children. My No. 3 son, William, is 10 and on the cusp of his first hunt. The Minnesota DNR has created more opportunities for kids his age to get out into the field. Turkey hunting is now legal for kids of all ages and the state has created the chance for 10- and 11-year-olds to deer hunt. I may start him out next year with a fall turkey hunt. That strikes me as a great way to begin.

Sausage day

Today marks an annual tradition -- bringing in fresh, venison sausage to my coworkers at The Catholic Spirit. Yesterday, I picked up a batch of summer sausage from Stasny's Food Market right here in St. Paul. I had dropped off a deer for processing back in November and I always order Stasny's delicious summer sausage.

I feel a little strange driving around St. Paul with a deer in my trailer, but I wouldn't take it anywhere else. The heart of St. Paul might seem like an unusual place to find a deer processor, but the folks at Stasny's have been doing it for a long time and it shows.

I really like the taste of the summer sausage I get there, and I also like sharing it with others. In fact, I will be giving more of it away to landowners who have given me and my sons permission to hunt on their properties. That's an annual tradition, too. I'm very grateful for the privilege of having good places to hunt and it's nice to give the landowners a small token of appreciation.

In this day and age, finding land on which to hunt is getting harder and harder. I sure hope my children will be able to continue our tradition of hunting. For now, we'll keep enjoying the sausage, plus all of the other venison now taking up space in our freezer.

Returning from Big Sky country

We got back from our trip to Great Falls, Mont. very early yesterday morning -- 5 a.m. to be exact. It got interesting in western North Dakota when we encountered some snow and slush, making for some tense driving. But, God answered our prayers for protection and brought us safely home.

I did some elk and deer hunting with my two oldest boys, Joe and Andy, and their Grandpa Bob Guditis, his daughter, Jessica Gray, and her husband, Jerry. The results will be revealed in my monthly outdoors column in The Catholic Spirit in an upcoming issue. For now, I'd like to highlight one important aspect of the hunt.

It has to do with being prepared for the hunting conditions out west. Thanks to my friend, Steve Huettl, we had the right clothing. He works for a hunting clothing company called Gamehide and he was able to get us jackets, bibs, caps, neck gaiters and gloves at a significantly discounted price. He shipped them to us just a few days before we left and even shipped another jacket when Joe needed a bigger size.

Everything worked great and kept us warm and comfortable, even when it got cold and windy. The weather can vary greatly out west in the mountains, and we experienced that in our five days of hunting. It got to 60 degrees the first day, then dropped into the teens later in the week. The clothing worked through it all. I was confident it would do the job because Steve told me he uses the same stuff himself. It's Gamehide's top of the line and it showed. Many thanks to Steve!

A second important part of being prepared is to have rifles that shoot accurately. Bob is a civil engineer who understands technical things like bullet trajectories very well. He sights in every rifle he uses and we had a very important sight-in session at the gun range before the hunt. Unlike many hunters, he zeroes his rifles in at about 250-275 yards. He knows that shots that long -- and longer -- are common out west. Although the bullets will hit two or three inches high at 100 and 200 yards, a hunter can take longer shots without having to aim high on an animal.

All I will say for now is I'm very glad we took the time to sight in our rifles. Stay tuned to my upcoming column for a detailed story of our hunt!