February 2015 Volume 2, Issue 6

What’s Inside

Shortcut by Tony Rebo

Cheating on Romeo by Paul Fielder

Erich Spidel Wins Ruger 1911 45 ACP

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ordelheide-Dental/533072000093520

Publishers Notes By Raf Viniard

As of this writing, only 55 days until bear season and 51 days until turkey season opens, not that I am counting. Is this weather nice or what? From talking with local businesses everyone is getting spring fever. Is it to early to get excited? We are only in February and even at the higher elevations the snow is depleting fast. Creeks are running heavily but what does this mean for our summer. We still have March to go...will it come in like a lamb and go out like a lion? Could this mean a nasty fire season this summer? Time will tell but for now I am loving it...and want some more of it! Don’t forget...Montana Woods N Water, Big Bull Sports and the Sanders County Search and Rescue will be holding its 1st Annual Camo Sweetheart Ball, 28 February. Tickets are on sale now. You can read more about this event by going to our website: www.montanawoodsnwater.com and hit the “SAR” tab for more information. We also have a large ad in this issue on page 7. Somebody is going to win a really nice gun and other door prizes that will be awarded. There will also be a silent auction. This is going to be a fun event. Tickets are limited, so get yours early. This month we are raffling off a pink Camo Savage 7mm-08, Model 11 rifle with a Nikon 3 X 9 scope. Contact myself or a SAR member to get your raffle tickets. Only 75 tickets will be sold.

Keep sending us your pictures and stories. We thank you for your continued

support. Please support our advertisers.

Publisher & Editor: Raf Viniard

406-407-0612

Field Editor: Mitzi Stonehocker

406-544-1868

Sales & Marketing Director:

Kori Erickson

406-293-1478

Flathead Valley Sales Rep:

Misty Loveless

406-250-4191

Missoula Sales Rep: Vacant

Pro Staff Writers & Photographers:

Angela Gerych Pastor Jim Sinclair

Dan Helterline Zach Butcher

Paul Fielder Montana Mitzi

Toby Bridges Sam Martin

Toby Walrath Jason Badger

Tony Rebo

Editorial Policy: Montana Woods N Water (MWW) reserves the right to

refuse to publish in any form of content that does not include the author’s name, complete mailing address, and/or valid

phone number or e-mail address. Anonymous submissions will not be

addressed or published. MWW reserves the right not to publish anything we feel

is not in good taste or appropriate.

Front Cover Photo Provided By:

The Bob Factor

hiking@thebobfactor.com Bear Creek Cow Moose

Contact Us

Montana Woods N Water

171 Clark Creek Loop

Plains, Montana 59859

406-08-0576

www.montanawoodsnwater.com

Email:

raf@montanawoodsnwater.com

2

Don’t Forget - March 16th Deadline

3

The

Shortcut

By Tony Rebo

Shortcut: A shorter, more direct route than the one

customarily taken.

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

This winter while out on the ice, I have been advised of many shortcuts on how to get to a destination of my asking. I sort of have it coming, as I am always trying to find the quickest way to the ice and fish. Many of the mountain lakes I fish have several ways to get to them. If the snowmobile will not make it, I have traveled by snowshoes. The end result is I am always looking for the quickest and easiest route of travel. I was visiting with an old boy the other day about a lake I traveled into this winter. He asked how I got to the lake and we shared shortcuts. Of course, I found out that the shortcut I had was about a mile longer than the direct route he suggested. We laughed and talked about the shortcut system.

Now, I am not suggesting that outdoorsman would steer a guy wrong in giving out information on their shortcuts, but we all may have a different idea on truly what is a shortcut, and does it indeed save time. After reading the definition again, I realized that it doesn’t state anywhere that the shortcut will save you time. Ummm, good to know. I want to share a shortcut story with you that happened a couple years back while I was in Wolf Creek hunting for elk. In mid November, I left Libby with my hunting partner and headed for what we hoped would be a week full of elk. To protect the innocent and for the sake of the story, I am going to refer to my hunting partner as Mark. It is kind of weird because my hunting partner’s name is actually Mark, but he would never want me to use it in this story as there are some very disturbing events that took place. Ones that we laugh about now, but at the time were quite disturbing.

We had spent the first part of the week on morning hikes that would take us back two to four miles per trip. In the afternoons we would travel the back road glassing for sign of elk. After the sunset we would head back to the cabin and BBQ a steak while washing it all down with 12 year old scotch. After a while we would end up down at the local watering hole. It is very important to understand the objective to being at the watering hole each and every night. One, they have a large screen TV to watch Monday night football on. Two, all the best hunting stories are told at the

watering hole, and if you listen closely, you will be able to retrieve the most valuable information. Whoever was lucky enough to have put game in the back of their truck that day had the attention of the rest of the group. The trick was to pay close attention to the details of where the game was taken.

What we heard this night was that we could find elk on the backend of the property we were on, close to the continental divide. At least that is what everyone in the place heard. I on the other hand heard the same thing plus there is a shortcut on how to get there. That’s right, a shortcut!

Continued on page 6

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TONY’S TALES

Which

Way

Tony Rebo + Mark Kroll = Adventure

5

6

TONY’S TALES CONTINUED

A shortcut doesn’t come for free. You always have to give another outdoorsman something in exchange for the information. I was lucky that the watering hole had plenty of Crown Royal to pass around in exchange for the information on the shortcut. Now as the shortcut was shared and the whiskey poured freely, I should have come to the realization that I might not remember everything exactly the way it was told. What I did remember was simple, head up the old Wolf Creek Highway, drop over the hill, stay on the main road, and you will end up in the back country we were looking for. It was easy; we would end up back out on highway 200. I just couldn’t believe that more folks didn’t know about the shortcut.

The next morning Mark and I were up early and were heading to the shortcut. We waited until daylight before we left because we thought for sure we would see elk from the road and it would be as easy as that. We also may have left a little later because of the amount of bribery we consumed with our new best friend. Anyway,

as we reached the top of the mountain everything was going great. We had a full tank of gas, studded snow tires, and a set of chains for all four tires. We were golden and ready to take on the somewhat difficult road that lay before us. At least

that was what I kind of remembered about the road.

When we reached the end of the well traveled road, we came to what I would call a dirt/rock path. By the looks of it, there was a time when it was traveled on at least monthly, maybe. Mark and I looked the trail over and

thought, “We got this.” So, down the backside we went. The road was at about a 5% grade. Steep, but not horrible. The downside was the water that was running off the bank on the uphill side of the road. It was turning to ice during the night and made for some slick conditions. The studded tires did their job and kept me on the beaten path. Halfway down the hill we spotted a truck driving out across an open meadow and in the back of this truck was a monster bull elk. Mark was immediately excited over seeing such a site and we lost interest in the condition of the road. Well at least we did until we came to the first creek crossing.

As we sat in the truck staring at the flowing creek we wondered a couple of things. One, should we turn around, go back and not chance this crossing? We soon realized we had no place to turn around and so we ruled that out. Two, how fast should we be going when we hit the water and can we make it up the washed out bank on the far side? I backed up the hill, looked at Mark and said, “Hold on this could be interesting.”

We hit the water at 20 mph and launched into the current. Water gushed up over my hood and onto the windshield. It reminded me of the movies when a submarine captain would yell, “Dive! Dive! Dive!”

There was a bright side to this situation. I got my windshield cleaned, and we would now be able to spot any elk swimming in the creek. I hit the bank on the opposite side of the creek and my truck launched upward into the air. This was when I heard Mark scream for the first time. It wasn’t a scream like I had ever heard before. This was fear, desperation, and I-may-just-relieve-myself kind of scream. His scream scared me so bad that I also screamed. So together over the bank we went screaming until we landed smack in the middle of the road on the other side of the river. That’s right. It went from being a creek to a river.

Continued on page 8

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TONY’S TALES CONTINUED

8

Now that we were safely on the other side, we looked back knowing we could never go back and that we could only go forward. No biggie, that had to be the one bad spot that they were talking about right? “Mark, I sure wish you would have paid a little more attention to the directions,” I said.

Now this is when you know things are going to go bad - when the troops start turning on each other. Mark calmly replied, “I can’t pour and take notes at the same time. Why couldn’t you have written this down? Oh right, I remember. It’s because you were sleeping on the end of the bar.”

Details, details, details. It is always about the little things. Ok let’s regroup. We just spotted a truck with a massive bull in the back, and so we were on our way. I promised to never talk about the screaming part. (Oops, I guess I lied about that). We traveled down the now rock path to our destination. We would travel north and then south, up and then down. The road made no sense. There were times where we got out and had to decide if the rocks we were on were still the road. Finally we spotted a section of the rocks that looked like a road. “Alright,” I thought. “We made it through the bad stuff.” We traveled through the woods now looking for elk, and what we found was another crossing. Yep, that damn river again. I swear this time while we were sitting there a small cabin floated by with stranded occupants on the roof crying for help. Not much we could do, we had our own problems.

Once again speed was a factor, and to make matters worse, the far side of the road took a sharp left hand turn up the side of the mountain and looked to dead end at a big pine tree. By now I was white knuckling the steering wheel, and my ears were burning from all the cursing coming from Mark. If only I could remember who recommended this shortcut, I would hunt them down. I stomped on the gas, screamed through the water in 4 low, and hit the bank on the far side. I managed to turn to the left and launched up the hill and by the big pine tree narrowly missing it by inches. The squirrel path we were on then made a hard right and when I finally came to a spot I could stop, I noticed my passenger’s door was open and Mark was gone. He had abandoned ship and was leaving me to go down alone, or maybe he fell out. Either way I had to look for him.

He was down on the bank shaking uncontrollably from rolling through the dirt. It didn’t help that the game cart that was in the back of the truck had also fallen out and had somehow become entangled with Mark. I wasn’t quite sure if I should reach out my hand to help Mark up or if I could just roll him back up the hill. Our friendship was ending fast and I thought for sure it was over after the brief knife fight. All in all we loaded the game cart in my truck and we found our way out of the fiery road from hell. Just like they said the road came out on Highway 200. The next 45 miles back to Wolf Creek was rode in silence. Besides the fact that Mark lost a tooth, his

shirt was torn in several pieces, and part of my left ear was cut off, we were good.

That night we skipped dinner at the cabin and headed straight to the watering hole, mainly to hunt down the dirty mangy dog who told us about the shortcut. When we walked in we were greeted by the locals and asked, “How was hunting?”

“Really, you are going to ask me that after the shortcut story you gave me about the old Wolf Creek Highway?” I screamed.

“Old Wolf Creek Highway?” whispered every local in the bar. The place went silent and the jukebox screeched to a stop mid-song. The only sound in the place was the sound of my heart pumping in my chest as I looked around the room for the local who gave us the shortcut information. Finally, the bartender asked the question that was on everyone’s mind, “You say you fellas went over the old Wolf Creek Highway?”

“That’s right and I am here to talk about it,” yelled Mark.

What happened next was unbelievable. Everyone got out of their chairs, started slapping us on the back, and said I want to buy these guys a round! No one has been across that highway for years or at least no one who ever made it back to here. There were two boys from the Kalispell area who we heard ended up walking out in the spring, but we can’t confirm that. We were asked a number of questions to verify the road, and as we told the group about the road they would all nod to confirm that yes indeed we had crossed the old highway. As the night went on we were treated like heroes who had just accomplished an unimaginable goal. With all this fuss over what we had accomplished, Mark and I soon forgot to take the guy out back who told us about the shortcut and hang him (that reminds me that I left my good rope tied to that tree branch).

Anyway, to make a long story short, never trust a shortcut if you are looking for the route to be easier. Sometimes taking the long way is the best way.

CAMPFIRE TALK

Wild Coyote Saloon

Bar Restaurant Casino

Good Montana Folks, Food & Fun

713 Prospect Creek Road

Thompson Falls, MT

406-827-7867 9

ule deer might think that I cheat when I hunt

them, and I guess I do. I cheat by some doing things that

they don’t usually see from hunters in eastern Montana.

I cheated on a mule deer buck I called Romeo, and it was

one of the best stalks I ever made.

Several years ago, dawn found Keith and I

hunkered down behind some rock slabs on a ridge

overlooking miles of high plains of Montana south of

Saco. Keith is my good buddy with whom I’ve shared

many adventures. We were unsuccessfully trying to stay

out of a relentless, icy wind while the sky was turning

from dark grey to various shades of pink and purple. As

visibility slowly improved, we started glassing for deer.

Keith was working a 10x pair of binoculars and I was on a

15x60 power scope. About two zip codes away I spotted

a group of 15 or so deer crossing a far ridge in the sun’s

first light. Three could be identified as good bucks for the

area we were hunting. By good bucks for that area, you

need to consider that there is not much water and the

grass and forage seems dried, wind-blown, and stunted.

It is a hard area for a deer to make a living and the

nutrition leaves a lot to be desired as far as antler

growth.

We watched this group of deer for about an hour

as we wandered along their far away ridge. One buck

was chasing a single doe all over the ridge. When the

chase got near them, the other two “good bucks” would

step out of the way and didn’t seem to want any part of

the chase. I figured the chaser must have been the

better of the three bucks, since the other two didn’t want

to interrupt his courtship. They’d probably already

learned a tough lessen from the love-starved buck that

we named Romeo.

As the sun climbed higher, the group of deer moved

towards us from their sloping ridge top and dropped into

a series of badlands-type gullies and ravines. Keith and I

marked the general area the deer disappeared into by

the transmission line towers on the far ridge, third tower

to the south of a big rock. We split up. Keith would circle

around and hunt into that area from the north. I’d take

our truck south to the “fender gate” and hunt into the

badlands gullies from that direction. We’d each cover

about two miles on foot to get to the deer. We didn’t

see each other again until that afternoon back at the

truck where Keith told me I had a little blood on my

cheek. “Yeah, I found Romeo”, I said.

My stalk from the truck to Romeo covered lots of

the kind of ground I love to hunt. It was a combination of

gnarly, hard dirt, jagged rock chips, harsh brushy gullies

and ravines where you don’t know what’s around the

next bend. When I had to top out over ridges or open

areas I put on my camo face mask and belly crawled. I

wear leather gloves for those crawls to cut down on my

bleeding.

Continued on page 12

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PONDERINGS FROM PAUL

CHEATING ON ROMEO

by Paul C Fielder

M

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Eastern Montana mule deer see lots of pickups and erect hunters walking around, but they have no idea what that thing is squirming across the ground. I wear a break-up orange hunting vest with an orange and black pattern. I hang my vest on the sunny side of the garage all summer, turning sides occasionally. The sun bleaches out the florescence from the orange so it doesn’t appear so brilliant. Deer don’t see colors. They see varying shades of gray from white to black. But, they do see brightness. The white-tail deer’s tail and antelope’s rump hairs can look a brilliant white when erected as a danger signal. A brand new camo vest or jacket might look gray to a deer, but it a BRILIANT gray.

After belly crawling over two sky lines and going way out of my way to avoid a third, I was closing in on the area where Romeo disappeared. I was in a gully now, moving east. The wind was quartering from my left and all my movement was in a crouch, two steps at a time. As I peered around a curve in the gully I saw a doe and fawn bedded down in the shade ahead of me. To avoid spooking them, I circled to my right with another belly crawl to get around them. As I moved to the top of a slope where I thought I might look down on Romeo and his Juliet, I easily spotted a 4x4 buck bedded down on a sandy flat right in front of me about 100 yards ahead. But there was no Juliet. I watched this buck for a while and figured he was not Romeo because he was alone. The Romeo I saw at dawn had romance on his mind.

As I watched this lookout buck, I watched him fall asleep on the job. He got real comfortable in his sleep with his legs stretched out to his side like my lab sleeps and he had the side of his head and one antler lying on the ground. I took off my hunting pack so I could belly crawl across the 3-4 inch high grass toward the lookout buck. With facemask and leather gloves on I pushed my camouflaged pack and 7mm Remington Magnum in front of me as I inched forward with tips of toes and elbows so I could look deeper into the gully ahead of me. Another doe and fawn were below me to my left, but they didn’t notice me. The sleeper slept. After inching, and waiting and watching for a good long while, another 4x4 buck came bounding across the sage brush from another gully and stopped to look down at the sleeping buck. This new buck was not in the company of any does. He fed along the flat top of the ridge and disappeared into a gully off to my left. The sleeper continued to sleep.

I figured I was in the right area because of the collection of deer I was seeing. The sun was warm. The morning wind had died down. I was lying comfortably on top of a rounded hill, way out in the middle of the open, in the midst of several deer including two good bucks, and I was patient. The gully in front of me, the other side of which the sleeper was sleeping, curved slightly to the right. I thought I saw the top of the back of a deer just under the edge of the gully. As I watched in my 10x binoculars I saw part of an antler reach back and try to scratch the deer’s back I was watching. It was just a two second scratch, but I thought I had seen enough to have located Romeo. Then all sign of the deer disappeared. Judging from where the back of the deer had been and where the antler movement came from, it seemed that deer had moved to his right in the gully and out of my sight.

I laid and waited. I soaked up more sun and thought appreciatively of the time and the place I was in, and I felt good. It was after noon by now. The sun had changed position in the sky and some of the cool, shady parts of the gullies were now sunlit and warm. A doe moved out from the right end of the gully and started quartering up and to the left across far slope above the gully. Twenty feet behind her came a 4x4 buck with his nose out-stretched like it was tied to the back end of the doe in front of him. Romeo had made his appearance. Continued on page 14

When little cover is available a hunter must use the cover at

his disposal and tactics such as belly crawling to close the

distance being mindful of the wind direction.

PONDERINGS FROM PAUL CONTINUED

13

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PONDERINGS FROM PAUL CONTINUED

14

My range finder said he was 175 yards away when he stopped to take a deep breath. It was his last. At my shot, the sleeper jumped up onto all four feet and swung his head from side to side several times as if to say, “What the heck was that?” The sleeper ran to the top of the hill, looked around some more and took off running towards the slope where Romeo lay dead. As Sleepy passed about 15 feet upslope from where Romeo lay, he stopped and looked down at the dead buck and I could just imagine him saying, “My gosh, they got Romeo”.

Finally, Sleepy moved on. I’d watched Romeo lay there long enough to figure he wasn’t getting up again. I stowed away my face-mask and leather gloves, retrieved my spent shell for re-loading later, put on my pack, and walked over to see what Romeo looked like. He wasn’t a monster buck by any means. But his eye-guards on his antlers curved forward a bit instead of standing upright. I could imagine him locked up in a fight with other 4x4 bucks and those forward curing eye-guards poking into the forehead of the other bucks and I thought, “Ouch”. I think that is why those other two 4x4s gave Romeo a wide berth when he had romance on his mind.

I dressed out Romeo on that hillside. Then, I tied ribbon markers to the 8-12 inch high stunted sage brush between the deer and nearest point that I could get my truck to and started the long walk back to the “fender gate”. The back straps from Romeo were tough. The steaks were even tougher. They eventually made real chewy venison jerky. Romeo lived in a tough land.

I memorialize Romeo with a European type mount. There are bigger bucks on the wall that Romeo shares. But Romeo is my reminder of a time and place and set of circumstances I was privileged to be part of. That is what a trophy hanging on a wall is all about!

Problem solving is hunting. It is

savage pleasure and we are born

to it.

~Thomas Harris~

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15

CAMPFIRE TALK

16

Mr. Erich Spidel of

St, Ignatius, MT

WINNER

Montana Woods N Water Presents

Five Months of Fun Fundraiser - First Gun Giveaway Winner Montana Woods N Water in conjunction with the Sanders County Search & Recue and Big Bull Sports of Thompson Falls, MT wants to

congratulate Erich Spidel of St. Ignatius, MT winning the Ruger 1911 45 ACP. Over the last two months ,raffle tickets have been sold to

help raise money for the Sanders County Search & Rescue.

The drawing took place at Minnies’s Montana Café located in Thompson Falls, MT. Sanders County Sheriff Tom Rummel and Cory Merrick

of Thompson Falls, were on hand to ensure all tickets were present and accounted for. Paula Hanks, an employee of Minnie’s Montana

Café pulled the winning ticket.

Erich was contacted and a date and time were setup for him to meet us at Big Bull Sports to complete all required paperwork and pickup his

Ruger 1911 45 ACP handgun. Erich bought one of the last tickets sold (ticket # 92) by Search and Rescue member Jerry Johnson, Vice

President of the Sanders County Search & Rescue. Only 100 tickets were sold for this firearm. Roy Scott sold over 20 tickets to take the top

ticket sales title. Continued on page 18.

Sheriff Tom Rummel &

Corey Merrick inspect

tickets to ensure all tickets

were present for drawing.

· FEBRUARY 21st @ 0830 - Trappers Education Workshop - Missoula Region 2 FWP Office

Spurgin Rd, Missoula, MT

· FEBRUARY 27th - MARCH 1st - Helena Great Rockies Sports Show

Lewis and Clark County Fairgrounds, Helena, MT

· MARCH 20th @ 1200 - Western States Fur Auction - Park County Fairgrounds, Livingston, MT

· MARCH 21st - 23rd - Missoula Great Rockies Sport Show - Adams Center - U of M - Missoula, MT

· MARCH 27th - 29th - Bozeman Great Rockies Sport Show

Brick Breeden Fieldhouse - Bozeman, MT

· MARCH 29th @ 1230 - District 6 Spring Membership Meeting - Havre, MT

· APRIL 18th @ 0900 - District 2 Spring Membership Meeting - FWP, Spurgin Rd, Missoula, MT

· APRIL 18th @ 1000 - District 2 Spring Membership Meeting - FWP, Kalispell, MT

· MAY 3rd @ 0900 - MTA Board Meeting - Yogo Inn, Lewistown, MT

See You There!

17

Raf Viniard, Publisher of

Montana Woods n Water

gives Roy Scott a Sanders

County Search & Rescue

member an embroidered

Montana Woods N Water hat

for selling the most tickets

and he got ticket #1 for the

upcoming rifle raffle.

Paula Hanks pulls the

winning ticket.

Erich Spidel winner of the

Ruger 1911 45 ACP pistol

fills out the paperwork to

take his new firearm home.

Continued on page 20

CAMPFIRE TALK

18

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Erich shows off his new addition to his gun cabinet. Big Bull Sports set him up with two boxes of ammo to test it

out...we want to thank the Big Bull staff for making this raffle a success as well. We also want to thank the Sanders

County Search & Rescue members that helped make this raffle so successful. A special thanks to all those that

bought a raffle ticket to help support the Sanders County Search and Rescue.

Here is the next beauty to be raffled off this month.

Savage 7mm-08 w/ Model 11 w/3 X 9 Nikon scope. We

are only selling 75 tickets and they are going fast at

$20.00 each. Contact Montana Woods N Water, Big Bull

Sports or any Sanders County Search & Rescue member

to get a ticket. You must be a Montana resident and meet all state and federal guidelines to win the rifle.

Don’t forget about the Camo Sweetheart Ball the 28th...we will be giving

away another gun at that event as well. See page 7 for more information.

CAMPFIRE TALK

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