Planting Pennsylvanias Future Deer
Author: Kevin Gardner
It isn’t often I get to take the time to knock around in the outdoors without some exact purpose for being there. There always seems to be some utility reason, not by design, it just always seems to work that way. This really is something I should work on changing as it seems some of what I consider the most interesting things happen when there is no destination in mind or job to fulfill. Just a non-charted trip to explore new places in the wild. Maybe it is just the lack of focus on having a chore to do on the trip that lets karma sort of have its way with you.
I’ve never been shy about my feelings toward the hot summer months and all of the activities that go along with them. Perhaps as I get older and my blood thins, I may evolve an intolerance for the cool or cold weather of spring, winter and fall and begin to appreciate heat and humidity. I may start to enjoy seeing people everywhere I travel outdoors with their dogs, bikes, brightly colored clothes, bear bells and walking sticks. I may even awaken the Tuesday after Labor Day and actually be sad that everyone has gone back to wherever the hell it is that they came from, but until I make those statements, from the infirmary, I will likely loath the time between Memorial Day and Labor Day as much as I have for the last twenty or so years.
Taking advantage of a cool but sunny May afternoon just a few days before the Memorial Day weekend, I loaded my backpack with camera gear and set off on an uncharted course through the mountains near my Appalachian home. With a clear head and elevated senses, I wanted to take it all in and just let things unfold as they will. Knowing it is one of my last chances to see undisturbed wildlife for months, I just wanted my time. Like it or not the coming weekend will bring the thrill seekers out to scatter them deeper into the thickness of the wilderness and further educate them to avoid humans.
With the slope having a relatively sharp incline, and contrasting the size of the mountains of Pennsylvania against those of the Colorado mountains that I used to travel in, after about thirty minutes the grade began to lessen and I started to believe I was nearing the top. The sound of birds and nature were so loud and alive that they muffled a humming sound that was gradually getting louder the further I penetrated the mountain. Eventually it became identifiable as the sound of an engine, evolving further into that of a tractor engine the closer I got to the source. Catching a glimpse through the trees I was able to make out a tractor harrowing a small meadow on what I believed to be the top of the mountain.
Drawing closer and getting a better view, the small fields began to lengthen and become more visible as the tractor made pass after pass working the soil. Intrigued that this area of the mountain was being tilled, I approached the opening in hopes of having a conversation with the farmer about his intention of putting crops in such an odd location. Emerging from the cover of a thick canopy of shade trees, I scoped the field and noticed through the dust made by the tractor, the form of a utility truck parked in the shade along the far edge of the field. Walking closer and observing the vehicle a decal on the door took a familiar shape, that of the insignia of the Pennsylvania Game Commission.
The truck began skirting the field in my direction and I began to wonder how this would play out as the man emerging from the cab, later introducing himself as Craig Shaffer; Maintenance Worker Supervisor, approached me. Without a hello he blurted, “Its corn, buckwheat and sorghum”. “Come here I’ll show you” as he proceeded to the edge of the field with me in tow. Bending down he fumbled through the freshly tilled ground locating some seeds. They plant this combination because with it the deer and turkey will have something to eat throughout most of the year, was his point. Still a bit flabbergasted I made a comment about making a giant food plot; he smiled and nodded his head. “That’s Tom Miller on the tractor, he is working the seed in with the plow before we head to the next field.”
Continuing, he informed me how they make this concoction at their maintenance shed from locally bought seed and plant it in several plots across the county. I was surprised to say the least as this is the organization that has been made out to be the bad guy by so many groups of sportsmen, as wanting the deer herd depleted. Rumors of truckloads of coyotes being dumped along back roads as part of a conspiracy with insurance companies and mysterious disappearing lion carcasses from roadsides followed with official denial of their existence are commonplace local lore. It is worth noting that pressing the issues with “eye witnesses” it always turns out that they hadn’t actually seen it, but “someone they know did”, BS. He further showed me a combination of seeds they use as well, consisting of rape and turnip. “Want to see the mixtures?” he asked.
Returning to the back of his vehicle and climbing on top of a load of equipment, he pulled down a grain sack and opened it for me to examine the contents. I was basically speechless and likely looked pretty confused to see this going on. He walked me through the process of how the animals will use the food plots and what all species of wildlife it will support. Although I write about it and have a wildlife and habitat management course I offer as an adjunct professor at the local college, I let him talk and just listened for a while to take it all in. I could not help being impressed with his knowledge, but that was shadowed by his energy, approachability and eagerness to educate a dumb roaming backpacker. With the wheels in my head spinning at full speed I asked about how hard the area gets hunted in the fall and his reply was no surprise to me, “a lot less than you would think”. I kind of figured that would be the case as the land is somewhat steep and the habitat thick and inhospitable. The “there are no deer here” group who want game no farther than a hundred yards from the car are not going to work to get into this type of area.
I asked about an open gate I had passed further down the mountain and inquired as to if it is closed off after the Labor Day weekend, which would add seclusion to the area. This practice of closing off vehicle access during the critical time of late summer and early fall development and breeding has proven to be extremely effective as a wildlife management tool. He advised me that the gate is never closed and still the pressure is minimal. Taking a few points from my level of enthusiasm with his answer I was still impressed with what was happening. Had he told me the gate is closed after the summer I would have probably shook his hand until his arm came off, but you can’t expect them to get it all right at the same time. He related two deer hunting stories to me from his own personal experiences in the area we were standing, explaining how minimal the hunting pressure was and how both were successful deer harvests within a very short time after arriving.
Half commenting and half asking, I made a comment as to us being on top of the mountain, as the green-up makes it difficult to tell. “No sir, we’re on a bench. You have quite a hike ahead of you to get to the top”. That sounded good to me as I was certainly not worn out yet and would like to have bigger mountains to climb anyway. Detailing the rest of my trip he alerted me to some significant landmarks along the way where I would also see more of the habitat work they were doing. He was quite proud of the area and his contributions to its betterment. I was honestly excited to keep pressing on as I was feeling pretty confident that I have found a new hunting area.
Offloading my pack, I asked if he minded if I took a few pictures. “Photographer huh, do you like hawks”? “No but I’m sure their delicious” was the first thought that went through my mind, but I decided to not be a wise guy when he was being so congenial to my way of thinking. “When you do get to the top you can look down on hawks flying around the mountain”. More encouragement to get back on trail. I took out my gear and did a series of photos, bummed some paper from him and jotted a few notes. I mentioned how valuable I feel food plots are and alluded to a recent podcast I had done with Steve Scott of the Whitetail Institute of North America that may interest him. He acknowledged knowing about the company and spoke further about his management initiatives. “We buy this seed by the ton and mix it ourselves; we buy from a local feed store and have made a mixture that really works well in this soil”. Undoubtedly true I thought, as I looked around at what developed ever more clearly as he pointed out features of the terrain they have been enhancing.
Once done with the photographs and packing back up, I inquired further about what I could expect up trail and about other wildlife he sees on the mountain routinely. He talked about rattlesnakes, bears and even an eagle from recent trips to the site. I thanked him profusely for his time and his work, long days have been the norm for him and the driver of the tractor trying to get these habitat enhancing food plots done. I kept thinking as we talked, about how people could easily get involved in working with these guys to help better the habitat and learn a ton from the experience if they would put as much energy into helping as they do complaining.
Pushing further up the mountain I pass rows of trees that looked too deliberately placed to be a natural occurrence. On closer inspection they appear in my estimation, to be crab apple trees neatly and strategically aligned across yet another high mountain meadow. I made a mental note to reconnect with Craig and ask about the trees. I began to get even more excited about the area when I was able to get a bit further above the meadows and look down on them. Very carefully planned and executed is the layout, this area has to be good hunting I remarked out loud.
As the grade steepened back into the seclusion of trees, taxing muscles, heart rate and mental focus I found myself under the shade of a tree at a waypoint I had set for myself to break at. Catching my breath and cursing my poor lifestyle as of late, I took my next step to getting closer to the mountain top when the side of the hill below me exploded with a crash. Emerging like a bullet from his day bed a large black bear crashed down slope and almost certainly across the field I had just observed. Thinking it would be great to be on that field at the moment, camera in hand, I know that kind of luck is not usually mine. The smell of bear hung in the air for a few moments then dissipated with the light afternoon breeze.
Pressing on and undoubtedly sounding like a locomotive the top of the mountain came within sight. It was not Everest or even Longs Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park that I climbed on a moonlit night, but it sure felt good to hit the pinnacle. (Not to confuse, I have not climbed Everest, yet) The hawks were indeed there as promised as I put the Canon camera through its paces. The view was clear and breathtaking going on for what seemed forever, before summers hot haze lays in and distorts the distant scene. I spend a much needed hour of recuperation time at the top, taking it all in and reminding myself that real outdoor writer and photographers don’t grow on trees, they surround themselves with them.
Recharged and ready to now torture my knees on the steep descent I began the trek, breathing was a lot easier allowing the mind to process the information and sensations of the afternoon. Taking it all in again, only with much different eyes this time, the entire trip down the mountain was an exercise in admiring the work being done. A later call to Craig confirmed the crabapple trees as Asiatic Crabapple, selected for its late fruit bearing long into the winter, sustaining mountain survival for wildlife. Just like the rape was selected for its late attractive offering, the rows of trees divided by wide stretches of grasses running meadow-long took careful planning by people wrongfully chastised and accused of working against hunters and wildlife.
I often encourage people to get out and work the habitat on their own land or get involved with the local wildlife agencies and volunteer. I think one would quickly learn how much they actually do behind the scenes to promote wildlife and how much more they actually could do with some help. This area I hiked is going to be a fantastic place to hunt this fall without a doubt. It is hard to know about these places without getting out and exploring them and leaving the comfort of the hundred yard radius of the car. I know this exact situation is not the same all over the State or the Country, but getting involved will certainly yield finding where they do exist. To all of the folks who still think the PA Game Commission is trying to do away with the deer herd and do nothing to make things better, take a ride with Craig Shaffer and Tom Miller for the day and tell us all about it after the ten hours of work.
While I can do nothing about the hot summer months ahead and all of the activity happening on the mountain, the glimpse I got into the future while on the trail this particular day will keep me ever anxious for September.
For those looking to do some inexpensive and effective food plot work, the combinations Craig and Tom were working was: corn, buckwheat and sorghum applied at a rate of one bushel per acre, also a separate combination of rape and turnip at the same rate.
Enjoy your resources.
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