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.

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!

Walleye in the strangest of places

I got out on one of my favorite bass lakes yesterday -- Cedar Lake in Minneapolis. It's on the chain of lakes that includes Calhoun and Lake of the Isles.

I took my oldest son, Joe, and we were hoping for some good bass action. Two previous trips had been slow, but it was a nice day and we were on a warming trend, which has been rare in the month of July.

We had a tough time getting through the channel going from Lake of the Isles to Cedar because of the low water this year. At one point, Joe got out and pushed the boat through a shallow spot.

Once on Cedar, I went to a small point and made a cast to the weedline. I felt a few taps, then set the hook. After a short battle, the fish came up -- a walleye!

I have been fishing Cedar for several years and never caught a walleye. It was about 13 inches long and I dropped it into the livewell. Walleyes this size always taste good. We continued working our way around the lake pitching plastic worms for bass. The only takers were small bass and one decent-sized northern. The biggest bass of the day was only about 13 inches long.

That's not what I'm used to on this lake. In fact, just three weeks ago, my friend, Dave Altman, and I each landed an 18 1/2-incher. I'm not sure what's going on. Usually, by this time of the summer, the bass are set up on the deep weedlines and willing to bite plastic worms.

Not this  year. The best theory I can come up with is the cold weather we've had this month has thrown them off their summer pattern. In a normal year, temperatures have been in the 80s consistently for several weeks, with a few 90s thrown in. I'm not sure we're going to see that anytime soon -- or at all this summer.

Does this mean the usual summer pattern won't exist this year? I sure hope not. One thing I do know is I probably won't go back to Cedar this year. It's really tough getting through that channel and the results are definitely not worth the struggle. I may try Calhoun in the next few weeks, but I'm not sure things will be any different there. It's a deeper and colder lake than Cedar, so I don't know if there are any fish on the deep weedlines there, either.

Maybe I should switch over to walleyes. All the reports I have heard about walleyes this year have been good. And, I had success on Upper Red Lake with my family last month. I'm planning on fishing a lake in the Brainerd area in early August. It has both walleyes and bass and I think I'll try to target both and see which one is biting.

If it ends up being walleyes, I won't complain. More fish for the frying pan is a good thing!

Time to fire up the frying pan

With lots of fresh-caught walleye in the freezer, I decided it was time for a fish fry. So, yesterday, I invited my parents, Ray and Eunice, over for some pan-fried walleye.

My Dad has been struggling with some health issues the last couple of months, so I thought it would be a good time to serve him one of his favorite dishes. I went over and picked up both Mom and Dad and brought them back over to my house.

It was a splendid affair and it was clear they both enjoyed the meal. My Mom has lots of food allergies and this is one thing she can eat. As we ate the fish, she shared something about Dad that I never knew -- he wouldn't touch walleye or any other fish until about five years after they got married. At that time, Catholics had to go meatless every Friday, so Mom cooked fish on many of those occasions, while Dad ate grilled cheese, even though he had caught a lot of the fish that Mom cooked.

Boy, things have sure changed. Dad loves fish now and said several times last night that he ate too much. That's fine by me. We ended up eating everything I had thawed out, so it was perfect. The good news is, I have lots more walleye left, so there will be many fish fries ahead!

Walleye bonanza!

Every once in a while, a fishing or hunting trip goes as well as I had hoped it would. This week was one of those times.

I took my wife, Julie, and our four kids to Upper Red Lake on Tuesday for three days of walleye fishing. The day before we got there, the protected slot had changed, going from 17-26 inches to 20-26 inches. Three inches may not sound like much of a difference, but it is huge. Anyone who has fished the lake will tell you that there are lots and lots of fish in the 17-20-inch range. And, it can be agonizing to have to release dozens of them in the search for keepers under 17 inches.

We were blessed with the ability to keep four fish each up to 20 inches. For our family of six, that's 24 walleyes! Based on the reports I was getting before we left, bringing home our limit of 24 was a realistic goal.

I'm thrilled to say that is exactly what happened. The fish bit well enough for us to catch a limit to bring home, plus enough for a fish fry while we were there. We reached our limit of 24 by the end of the second day, then had a fish fry that evening in our cabin owned by Bear Paw Guides. Particularly satisfying for me was taking my wife, Julie, out earlier that evening along with my son, Joe.

How's this for perfect timing -- Julie bought her fishing license at 6 p.m. and was catching walleyes within an hour. Then, Julie, Joe and I came in with our three-person limit of 12 by 9 p.m.

One very nice amenity on Upper Red is the fish-cleaning service offered at West Wind Resort by a staff member named Paul. He does a fabulous job and only charges $1 per fish. In my book, it's money well spent. Not only that, he gave us some great advice on where to fish. We followed it and it paid off handsomely.

Basically, he recommended traveling farther away from the public landing at the mouth of the Tamarac River to get away from the crowds. Many people fish within a quarter mile from the mouth of the river. In fact, that area has gotten fished heavily ever since the slot limit changed on Monday. There are estimates of more than 100 boats covering that shoreline on Monday. Among several who offered that number were a DNR game warden and Steve Brasel, owner of Bear Paw Guides.

Looks like a lot of people were paying close attention to the change in the slot. I suspect the lake will continue to get pounded until the fishing slows. The fish are shallow and close to shore now because the water is cooler than normal, but they eventually will move deeper and farther out. They may even move out of the eastern portion of the lake that non-Indians are allowed to fish.

Fortunately, I don't have to worry about that. I have lots of walleye in the freezer that should last for months. I carefully take care of the fillets, vacuum sealing them so they will last much longer in the freezer. I spent quite a while working on that last night and today, but it was well worth the effort.

What really made me smile was seeing such hefty fillets that I'm not used to handling from fish caught on Upper Red. I would say most of the fish we ended up keeping were between 17 and 20 inches. A few went 19 inches or more.

Some people are leery of keeping fish close to the upper limit of keeping size, but I take great care to use the proper measuring tool and the proper technique, so I am very sure of the correct measurment of the fish I catch. When a fish is longer than 19 inches, I am even more careful. In fact, I ended up having to release a beautiful 21-incher that I caught on a crankbait.

At the time, I was a little bummed out, but, in the end, things worked out very well. The third morning of our trip, in particular, was excellent in terms of the size of fish we caught. We needed six fish to replace the ones we had eaten the night before, so I had to take someone with me to get them. My son, Andy, was the only one willing to get up early, so he and I went out at 8 a.m.

Within an hour, we had our six fish and ended up staying a little longer to fish for fun. All six fish were longer than the previous slot of 17 inches and two of them stretched to 19 inches or more. Andy and I were all smiles when we pulled up anchor and headed back in around 9:45.

I thank the state DNR for relaxing the slot and, most importantly, I thank God for providing us with the opportunity to go on this trip and for blessing us with an abundance of walleye!

Upper Red here we come

I'm eagerly awaiting a unique fishing opportunity that is coming up next week. It will take place on Upper Red Lake, which has become one of the top places to catch walleyes in Minnesota.

Ever since the lake reopened to walleye fishing in 2006, it has been amazingly easy to catch walleyes in May and June. The major problem has been trying to find keeper fish outside of the protected slot of 17-26 inches. Also, there was a two-fish limit to start out with that was changed to three last year and four this year.

Things change next Monday, June 15. Because of the abundant walleye population and the relatively low harvest, the state DNR has decided to relax the slot. Starting on that date, the new slot will be 20-26 inches. So, all of those nice walleyes in the 18- and 19-inch range will become legal for shore lunch.

For days, I've been thinking about going up there next week with my family. And, this morning, I took action. I called Bear Paw Guides in Waskish and booked a cabin that sleeps eight. It just happened to be available next Tuesday and Wednesday. So, I jumped on it. I had stayed there a year-and-a-half ago on an ice fishing trip and had a positive experience, and I felt very comfortable going back for this trip.

I talked to the owner of the resort, Steve Brasel, and he said the fishing has been phenomenal again this year, like it has ever since the lake reopened to walleye fishing. Even better, the cool weather this spring has kept the water temperature down and the fish shallow. So, there are lots of fish in the shallows right now and he expects them to stay there at least through the end of this month, and probably into July.

I can't wait. With my family of six, we will be able to bring home 24 walleyes, not to mention fish we will cook while we're there. In my mind, that's more than worth the price of a fishing license. Two of my sons are old enough to have to buy their own licenses. But, compared to some of the nonresident hunting tags we have purchased in recent years, the price is small -- only $18.

As Steve mentioned, the only factor will be weather, specifically, wind. A strong wind from the north, northwest or west will make the east side of the lake that non-Indians are allowed to travel next to impossible to fish. I'm going to start praying now for calm winds on the days of our trip. Warmer temperatures would help, too. I looked at the weather forecast for the area and the mercury is supposed to climb later this week.

Lookout, walleyes, here we come!

A bird for Bob

My father-in-law, Bob Guditis, came from his home in Great Falls, Mont. to Minnesota last week to visit his daughters who live here. When he first told me about his trip a couple of months ago, I suggested he buy a Wisconsin turkey license so he could hunt while he was here.

He gladly agreed and bought the tag online. The good news was, he was able to free up some time for turkey hunting. The bad news was, he didn't have much time to spend in the woods -- Thursday afternoon and Friday morning and that was it. Anyone who hunts turkeys long enough knows it can often take several days to pattern birds and get one to come in close enough for a shot.

We wouldn't have that luxury. Not only that, he has limited mobility, so I would have to pick out a good spot and hope a bird would come in.

I chose a small farm that we hadn't hunted yet this year and, to the best of my knowledge, neither had anyone else. So, that was a plus. I chose a spot along the edge of an alfalfa field Thursday afternoon and we waited until almost sundown for a bird to show. No birds came. We heard a hen yelping back in the woods and that was it.

But, we did see two nice whitetail bucks walk out into the field. Already, they had started some decent antler growth, which got Bob and I to thinking how fun it would be to come back in the fall.

We repositioned the blind before we left and hoped and prayed there would be some action Friday morning. We crawled into the blind at about 5:10 the next morning and waited for the turkeys to gobble on the roost. We heard one that was pretty far off, then another one that seemed closer. I felt it was close enough to hear my calling, so I shot out a few hen yelps.

The bird didn't answer, but I didn't lose hope. Sometimes, for reasons I may never understand, toms will come in to your calls without gobbling first. So, I held fast to my belief that a bird might appear.

About a half hour later, that's exactly what happened. A yearling tom, called a jake, came walking out into the freshly planted crop field adjacent to the alfalfa field where we were set up. He was about 100 yards away at that point and didn't appear interested in our decoys. So, I did some calling to try and change his mood.

It worked. He turned and came walking toward us and our decoys. I figured he might stop when he got to the edge of the alfalfa, which was about 50 yards away. That's what he did, but then he kept on coming. When I thought he was about 40 yards away, I asked Bob how far the bird was from us. He said he thought it was 36 yards, so I told him to go ahead and shoot. He dropped the bird and we went out and paced the distance from the blind to the bird -- 37 yards.

Bob is a civil engineer and he's very good at judging distances. After snapping a few photos of his bird, I offered an invitation to come over for dinner on Sunday afternoon with his wife, Sharon. I said I would prepare his turkey using one of my top recipes -- wild turkey/wild rice casserole. He agreed and we had a wonderful dinner that day.

I don't think a lot of people know how delicious wild turkey can be. Older birds can be tough, but cooking them in a crock pot works for any kind of bird you have. The wild turkey/wild rice casserole never fails to be good and I never worry about the turkey being tough. One key thing is to use only the breast meat. The leg and thigh meat is tougher and might not work as well in the casserole. However, you can make soup stock from it, which a couple of my friends do. I was able to donate turkey legs to them.

All in all, it was a great spring for turkey hunting this year. I just read that Minnesota set another harvest record this year and it looks like the turkey population is in great shape. I tip my hat to the DNR in both Minnesota and Wisconsin for the great work they do in managing their respective flocks. Hunters like me have benefited greatly from their efforts. Can't wait to get out in the woods again next year!

Next, I go to Lake of the Woods for a fishing trip this week. I've heard the fishing has been great up there so far and am hoping it will continue this week. The weather is supposed to be nice, so that will be a plus. Stay tuned for a fishing report!

Imperfect timing

I had to make a difficult and painful phone call on Friday. I was scheduled to go turkey hunting in Missouri this  week with Bishop Joe Charron and his friend, Joe Lane, a Minnesota native who lives in Des Moines, Iowa, and invites Bishop Charron down to his 220-acre piece of property nearly every spring to hunt  turkeys.

All week, I had been feeling like the timing wasn't right for this trip, for several reasons, including a heavy workload and a persistent chest cold that wasn't going away. So, on Friday, I called Bishop Charron to say I wouldn't be able to come down. I was really looking forward to going, but I felt staying home was the right thing to do. Bishop Charron agreed and we talked about rescheduling for next year.

However, that does not mean I had nothing to do with turkey hunting over the weekend. On the contrary, I went down to Goodhue County on Saturday to do some preseason scouting for my Minnesota hunt, which begins May 10. I took my brother, Paul, who has hunted this property several times and got a bird each time, including last spring.

We pulled in and were preparing to walk up the hill to his favorite spot when we heard two toms gobbling at the top of the hill. When we reached  the top, one of the gobblers was out in the field and ran off when he saw us. We heard the other one gobbling in the woods and I'm pretty sure I spotted him as well. Needless to say, I was pretty excited. The first day of my hunt is on a Sunday and Paul might join me. That would be fun.

Then, when we got back, we had a wild game cookout at my house, featuring grilled wild turkey and elk burgers. I had half a breast left from my Wisconsin gobbler that I shot last year and it tasted delicious. The elk came courtesy of a friend of ours who had shot one a year-and-a-half ago. Both the turkey and the elk were delicious. Then, yesterday, I used another portion of the wild turkey breast to make our family's favorite recipe -- wild turkey/wild rice casserole. It was fabulous, as usual. I'm hoping to put more turkey in the freezer this spring so we can make the casserole again.

The birds appear to be very active this spring in Minnesota and I'm optimistic about my hunt in two weeks. Just three days after my Minnesota season opens, I go to Wisconsin for a hunt there with my oldest son, Joe, and my Dad. It should be a fun week!

A break from hospital food

A beautiful, 46-degree day Saturday turned my thoughts to the grill. I thawed some venison steaks and stood careful watch on the Weber to cook them to perfection.

Then, after feeding my family, I set one grilled steak aside to bring to my friend, John Nesheim. I figured that he would welcome a home-cooked meal after almost two weeks of eating hospital food. I called him and he was, indeed, up for some venison. I brought it down to Regions Hospital and presented it to him. I don't know if it was allowed or not, but I decided to take the risk.

John and his wife, Maureen, shared it and liked it. I was glad. When someone you know and love is experiencing something as traumatic as recovering from having both feet amputated, you want to do anything you can to provide some comfort. I hope to do it again soon, although John is going to be going home this month. He's starting his rehab now and will continue when he gets home.

The hospital staff wasted no time engaging him in vigorous and, at times, painful physical therapy. It's good for him, they say. And, anyone who knows him or has heard of his situation should pray for God's grace so that he can make progress in therapy. In the meantime, I have plenty of venison in my freezer to share with him.

Delightful dinners

Twice in the last week, I had the chance to cook dinners for landowners who have allowed myself and my family to hunt on their land. Last Thursday, my brother, Paul, and I took a crockpot full of wild rice casserole, plus homemade bread and apple crisp to the home of a landowner in Cannon Falls, where we have successfully hunted wild turkeys. Then, we went to Prescott, Wis. on Saturday with venison meat pie for a landowner, his wife and one of their sons and his roommate.

Both meals were a success and it felt great to be able to give something back to landowners who have been so generous to us. In the first instance, the landowner's wife was out of town and he had to cook for himself for two weeks. He seemed to appreciate having someone else do the cooking on one of those days. In the second instance, we just wanted to prepare some venison that came from the deer my son, Andy, had shot on this landowner's land. The landowner, now in his 70s, hunted many years ago and it has been a while since he has enjoyed a venison meal.

In both cases, we experienced good fellowship, plus we were able to take some time for prayer. I think prayer makes a difference and I'm hoping that the prayers we offered provided some benefit for these generous landowners.

I am growing stronger in my belief that we, as hunters, need to look for, and take advantage of, opportunities to give something back to landowners who let us come out and hunt. Not only is it the Christian thing to do, it's something that can help ensure that we'll continue to have places to hunt. I have witnessed and heard about many instances of bad behavior by hunters and I think we're in danger of having landowners decide to stop giving permission to hunt on their land. In some cases, I can't blame them.

That issue aside, I'm just thrilled to have been able to bestow a small blessing on some very good people.

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.

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.

Over the limit

I recently read about a fisherman who was caught with 45 walleyes over the limit on Lake of the Woods. Every time I hear about cases like this, I get angry.

I thought about it on Saturday, when my wife, four kids and I were returning from a two-hour volunteer shift at Feed My Starving Children, an organization that sends food to hungry children in third-world countries. It was against this backdrop that I pondered the case.

On the one hand, taking this many fish from a lake so large doesn't seem like such a big deal. If there's a lake that can handle this kind of harvest, it's Lake of the Woods, which may hold more walleyes than any other lake in Minnesota.

On the other hand, when you consider the thousands of children around the world who are starving and often don't get even one nutritious meal a day, keeping this many fish seems like pure gluttony.

In fact, I believe it is. We live in a time when an ever-increasing number of people are harvesting fish and game from our woods and waters. Therefore, it is crucial to the continued health of our natural resources to follow the laws and exercise self-control when it comes to how much we take home.

Case in point: A recent half-day trip to Upper Red Lake. While on vacation near Bemidji, I took the family to Upper Red Lake to try and catch some walleyes. We caught walleyes all right, but couldn't seem to find any outside the protected slot of 17-26 inches. We caught only a few shorter than 17 inches, but I felt they were too small to keep. So, we left the lake at sunset with no walleyes.

Yes, we were all disappointed. But, I had the satisfaction of knowing that I followed the laws and taught my wife and kids to do the same. That's more important than keeping fish, especially illegal ones. And, if everyone practices this kind of conservation, we will help make sure our children and grandchildren have lots of fish to catch. I, for one, want to leave that kind of outdoors legacy.

An interesting vacation

Our family got to spend last week at a lake near Bemidji. The good news: The lake was beautiful, it held some nice crappies that we caught and cooked, and my new boat worked splendidly.

The bad news: The weather was stormy and volatile all week, with lots of rain, high winds and cold temperatures. Get this: The high last Wednesday was only 49 degrees! Hard to believe it was that cold in the middle of June. But, that's the kind of year it has been.

Amazingly, despite the cold, the mosquitoes were out in full force. In fact, they were abundant and ravenous. And, try as we might, we couldn't keep them from infiltrating the cabin. So, by week's end, we all were sporting welts aplenty.

Yet, there was much to be grateful for. And, I led our family in a short "gratitude" session on the drive back home. I feel it is important to cultivate the virtue of gratitude. So, I instructed every member of our family to say aloud things he/she is thankful for. It's a good thing to do. And, it can help us keep a balanced perspective.

I, for one, am grateful for the wonderful couple, Bill and Margaret, who let us use the cabin in exchange for some photography services. They stayed later than they wanted to on the day we arrived to make sure we knew how everything worked and where to find things that we needed. And, Bill came up the night before we left and helped me load my boat onto the trailer the next day. The heavy rains had left the steep gravel loading ramp soft and our minivan does not have four-wheel drive. So, I was worried about being able to drive back up the ramp with the boat on the trailer. Bill and his son, John, came to the rescue with a four-wheel drive vehicle and some muscle to get the boat on the trailer and up the ramp.

Bill also has a nice fish-cleaning station set up on the back end of the garage. It features a nice, tall table, which meant I didn't have to bend over and get a sore back from cleaning the crappies I caught. And, best of all, there were not one but two electric fillet knives at my disposal. I have been curious about them and have seen others use them with great success. I had been wanting to try one and, last week, I got my chance.

I'm happy to report that the Mister Twister electric fillet knife performed magnificently. It was easy to use and fast. Someone had told me previously that it takes a while to learn how to use it and that I should plan on ruining a few fish during the learning process. In this case, I botched only two of 21 crappies on the first try and zero of six on the second. Pretty good "filleting" average, I would say.

Upon returning home, I did the natural thing: Put that knife on my Father's Day list. And, my wife, Julie, happily obliged. But, I'm not sure, at this point, if it means I will get permission to go on more fishing trips. For now, I'll stick closer to home.

Knock and the door shall be opened

Here's another application of Jesus' encouragement in the Gospel to ask, seek and knock. On Saturday, my two oldest boys, Joe and Andy, and I went down to the Red Wing area to talk to landowners about spring turkey hunting. We were headed to the farm of someone I had talked to on the phone, but never visited in person.

With help from a good map, we almost made it there, but couldn't find the exact house. So, I knocked on the door of one of his neighbors and explained my situation. He not only pointed the way to the right house, but invited the boys and I to hunt on his farm, too. I'm continually amazed at how nice many of the rural landowners are. They seem very willing to grant permission to hunt turkeys on their land.

I wrote a follow-up letter thanking him for his generosity and letting him know how much it means to me to be able to have this kind of father/son experience with my boys. People out in the country seem to understand that very well and I think this helps explain their willingness to let a father and his boys hunt on their land.

Sadly, a lot of boys in our culture miss out on this wonderful opportunity. In fact, studies are showing that the number of kids who enjoy the outdoors is dropping nationwide. Fortunately, the numbers appear to be holding steady in Minnesota.

On the same trip down to Red Wing, we were able to drop off some venison to one landowner who had expressed an interest in it last fall. I had shot a deer on his land and so did my friend's son, Dan. In fact, it was Dan's first deer ever. So, it was nice to give back to the landowner venison from deer we had shot on his land. We had a great visit with him and it was a good lesson for my boys on the importance of gratitude. I hope they always remember it.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

It was payback time at my house last night (Jan. 21). At 5:30 p.m., the doorbell rang and in came Archbishop Roger Schwietz, the archbishop of Anchorage, AK.

He was in town to preside at the wedding of his niece and we arranged for him to stop in for dinner while he was here. I was thrilled and so was my wife, Julie. Both of us had been treated like royalty by Archbishop Schwietz when we visited Anchorage in July. I was on assignment for The Catholic Spirit to feature the life of Archbishop Schwietz, who grew up in St. Paul and attended Cretin High School (now Cretin-Derham Hall).

We wanted to give him something truly Minnesotan, so I made grilled venison steaks. I marinated some of the steaks in a special teriyaki sauce made by Allegro and they were delicious. Grilled venison steaks are one of our family's top wild game meals and we wanted to give Archbishop Schwietz nothing but the best.

It was a delightful evening, both in terms of food and fellowship. Our family truly enjoyed the visit and I told Archbishop Schwietz that I hoped that he would return for another wild game dinner next year. He, in turn, said he hopes our whole family can come up to Anchorage someday. I said I'd love to, but there's this little matter of coming up with six airfares to Anchorage.

The archbishop has had one interesting change in his life since my visit to Anchorage. He recently was named Apostolic Administrator for the Diocese of Juneau, which borders the Archdiocese of Anchorage. He replaces Bishop Michael Warfel, who was named bishop of the Diocese of Great Falls-Billings in Montana. The plan is to find a permanent replacement to serve in Juneau, but Archbishop Schwietz said he's not sure when that will happen.

Until then, he will be very busy in his dual pastoral roles. Unfortunately, that will leave him a lot less time to enjoy hunting and fishing, which he likes to do whenever he can.

My wife and I agreed that we should be praying for Archbishop Schwietz. I urge other Catholics to do the same.

Merry Christmas to landowners

On the Saturday before Christmas, I made an important trip with my two oldest boys, Andy and Joe, that is becoming an annual tradition. We made visits to landowners who have given us permission to hunt and gave them a Christmas gift. I think this is an important part of the hunt, as important as scouting.

We were able to give the landowners sticks of venison summer sausage that we had made at a local meat market here in St. Paul called Stasny's. The landowners seemed to appreciate the gift and I sure hope they do. We have enjoyed success on their land and I want to do everything I can to make sure we don't lose the privilege to hunt.

I don't believe it takes much to maintain good relationships with landowners. Simple gestures like making a personal visit to say thank you can go a long way. I wish more hunters would do it.

Good eatin'

Earlier this week, I made venison stew and brought it in to share with my colleagues at The Catholic Spirit. To my delight, people loved it and a large crock pot full of stew disappeared in short order.

I really enjoy cooking and eating what I harvest and, whenever possible, sharing it with others. I'm thankful that my wife and kids like fish and game, for the most part. So do my coworkers. Fortunately, I have lots of fish and game still in the freezer, so there will be many more delicious meals to come.

As I reflected on the joys of cooking and eating game, I recalled a disturbing article I read recently in a local outdoors publication called Outdoor News. One of the paper's columnists discovered that some people in a small town where he hunts have engaged in the practice of shooting deer that they see from their vehicles and leaving them lay in the fields.

When he questioned some folks about it, they merely said they enjoy shooting animals that they see. To me, this is not sport. My simple slogan is, if you're not going to eat it or give it to someone who will, don't shoot it. The exception would be if it's a nuisance animal like a coyote.

I believe this is one of the principals of stewardship that people of faith should follow. God gave us an abundance of fish and game. Let's thank him and glorify him for this by putting the creatures we harvest to good use.

Giving thanks still in season

I made an important phone call earlier this week. It was to a landowner on whose land I shot the deer pictured on the intro. of this blog. Though the conversation was brief, it was a necessary part of the hunt, one which, sadly, too many hunters forget.

I told him thanks for letting us hunt. My friend Bernie's son Dan also shot a deer on this man's farm near Red Wing. It was his first and it was something to celebrate. I relayed the story of our success to the landowner and let him know how much it meant for us to be able to hunt there.

I hope the privilege continues next year and beyond. I think it helps all hunters when we use good manners and take the time to say thanks to the landowners who make our hunts possible. A small gift is a good idea, too. I asked him if he would be interested in some venison summer sausage and he said yes.

I plan on dropping by with some. A brief, in-person visit makes a difference, I believe. Last year, I spent the Saturday before Christmas making the rounds to landowners and dropping off gifts. Amazingly, they all were home and seemed to enjoy the gifts. I hope to do the same this year. It's one way to enjoy the outdoors at Christmas time.