Hunter Gags Griz; Gambles Arm

grizzly bearA bow hunter in Teton County is recovering after he survived a grizzly bear mauling by shoving his arm down the animal's throat.

The Great Falls Tribune reports  that 26-year-old Chase Dellwo was hunting with his brother northwest of Choteau on Saturday when he came face to face with a 350 to 400 pound male grizzly.

Dellwo says as the bear attacked him, he remembered an article his grandmother had given him saying large animals have bad gag reflexes. He shoved his arm down the bear's throat, forcing the animal to release him. The bear left. Dwello was able to find his brother, who drove him to the hospital.

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He received stitches and staples in his head, some on his face, a swollen eye and deep puncture wounds on his leg.

A Camo Queen's Glossary

By Kristen Berube

Kristen BerubeKristen Berube lives a crazy, laugh-filled life with her outdoorsman husband Remi and their three camo-clad children in Missoula, Montana. A graduate of Montana State University and the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology, she loves being a mom and enjoys hiking, fishing, and camping. “Confessions of a Camo Queen: Living with an Outdoorsman” is her first book.


When I first fell for my ruggedly handsome outdoorsman, I had no idea that he spoke a foreign language. No, not a language of romance like Italian or French, and nothing as exotic as Balinese or Icelandic. Alas, his patois is more of a mashup of grunts, animal mating calls, pantomimes, and words shortened beyond recognition, except to dogs. The following glossary explains these sounds, and also the terms of endearment familiar only to Camo Queens.

Binos: a visual aid used to determine the species of ear mite infesting the hunter’s prey across the valley and two ridges away (see also Glassin’).

Bite: when a sad little fish sacrifices itself to boost the outdoorsman’s self-esteem; the slightest nibble causes symptoms of screaming, hooting, jumping up and down, and swearing. Side effects include swooning, sudden clumsiness, and tunnel vision. The ability to discern size becomes severely impaired, especially if the fish gets away.

Blind: a damp, icy tomb disguised as a cozy nest that you sit or lay in—dead still—waiting to convert innocent waterfowl into pillow filling.

Bugle: frickin’ annoying $40 piece of plastic vacuum permanently affixed to the outdoorsman 365 days a year. He blows into the mouthpiece to make ear-shattering, never-ending screeches, alleged to imitate the mating calls of elk or a lonely, sex-starved sasquatch. Occasionally used outdoors.

Call: a truly remarkable array of grunts, snorts, whistles, whinnies, howls, squawks, and squeals produced by the same outdoorsman whose conversational vocabulary is limited to “Beer,” and “Uh huh.” Indistinguishable from normal male vocalizations made in the bathroom or bedroom. Upon hearing such calls, wild animals die laughing.

Camo: any article of clothing covered in a pattern designed to blend in seamlessly with grass, bushes, trees, wood, dirt, snow, or water, rendering the wearer magically invisible only to other outdoorsmen. Also worn as a badge of honor at the mall, four-star restaurants, and church.

Doggin’: an expression of readiness to hunt—rapid pelvic thrusts made by the outdoorsman at inanimate objects, such as his four-wheeler, much like a dog dry humping a pile of dirty laundry. Do NOT ask your outdoorsman for further explanation—it would be even more disturbing than the doggin’ itself.

European Mount: outdoorsman art—a bleached skull of a wild animal, usually with horns attached. Despite 10,000 years of civilization, the outdoorsman will attempt to display such mounts as home décor in the dining room and over the master bed. Not to be mistaken for a position from the French Kama Sutra.

Glassin’: using binos or a scope to scan every blade of grass on every distant slope, hoping to spot the massive buck that simply has to be there. Glassin’ is a year-round form of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, not confined to hunting season. The older and dirtier the glass, the better the chance of spotting bears, coyotes, and trophy deer that to the untrained eye appear to be boulders, tree stumps, and shrubbery, respectively.

Hawg: any large, trophy-size animal, including hunting partners and girlfriends.

Honey Hole: a special, secret hunting spot rumored to hold monster bucks. Often indistinguishable from the surrounding landscape, which leads many hunters to wander aimlessly for days seeking the honey hole. See also Lost.

Hunting Widows Club: a sorority for all of us sisters who are seasonally abandoned by our paleo-camo guys while they romance furry critters and bed down with ticks, leeches, and intestinal parasites.

Lost: an unattainable state—no true-blooded outdoorsman has ever been lost. As Daniel Boone himself once said, “I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.”

Outdoorsman: a man obsessed with fishing, hunting, hiking, and otherwise wallowing in raw nature; a Neanderthal in $700 worth of designer camouflage.

Rack: the object an outdoorsman can’t wait to get his hands on; the shapely, ample, uplifted, unrestrained, post-pubescent growth prominently displayed by male deer, elk, and moose and female humans.

Rut: the time of year when deer, elk, and other critters produce excess hormones in preparation for procreation. The hormones stimulate outdoorsmen to act all horny and brainless around guns and four-wheelers. See Doggin’.

Sneak Attack: the act of the outdoorsman dressing up in the appropriate landscape camouflage, tip-toeing, bellycrawling, or teleporting close enough to the poor little bastard animal that he has locked his glazed-over eyes on, just before breaking wind and scaring the target into the next county.

Spot: Any highly secret location where the outdoorsman hunts, fishes, stalks, or otherwise harasses wildlife. Only the outdoorsman knows where these spots are, and he’s gone to great pains to hide them from his buddies, Google Maps, the National Security Agency, Navy Seals Team Six, and you. Even his dog is blindfolded before driving to a spot.

Stink Wagon: the outdoorsman’s vehicle, most likely a truck, with dog-hair seat covers and stale fart air fresheners. The wagon is a mobile Superfund site, full of rotten fossilized corn dogs, bloody feathers, random ungulate body parts, and more weapons than the National Guard. Do not enter without full hazmat protection.

White-knuckling: an instinctive, prehensile, female reflex triggered by engine revving, sudden braking, and violent swerving, common while the driver hunting or glassin’ from a vehicle.

 

Fall-ing in Love in Montana

By Angela Jamison

Angela JamisonAngela Jamison is a native Montanan and she grew up in beautiful Bozeman. I'm the mother of two girls and write a blog about our life here and taking in the simple pleasures of family and food.

Falling in Love with Fall

It has taken me a while to warm up to fall. I blame the years my husband dabbled in hunting and I was left alone throughout this season. Followed by the years I was nauseated 24 hours a day with morning sickness, during the fall with both my children. Add to it the following falls when again my husband was gone hunting and I was alone with babies and you can understand why the leaves changing made my stomach turn. Now, years later, I have finally quit associating fall with negative things and have begun to fall in love with it. The kids are older so it’s easy to get caught up in their excitement for this time of year…jumping in piles of leaves, hay mazes and of course, Halloween. My husband traded his shotgun for a yoga mat so now rather than losing him for several days, it’s usually just an hour or so. Now I look at the colors of the leaves change and see beauty. I feel the air turn crisp and get excited for the fresh start a new season brings. I smell pumpkin everything and can’t wait for cozy days inside baking. This year with the warmth of summer leading us into fall it’s even easier to love. I know it happens fast…before we know it the trees will be bare and the snow will come. As with any season I feel like you’ve got to soak it up while you can. Here’s how we do fall around here…

 

HARVEST TIME

This is when the hard work of gardening all summer pays off. Finally the tomatoes are red, zucchinis are abundant and not one vegetable needs to be bought at the grocery store. For the month of September, and if we’re lucky, into October we eat fresh veggies every single day. Preserving what we can, sharing with friends what we can’t. Keeping an eye on the pumpkins hoping they get a little more time to get bigger. They are, after all, the star of the season which leads might right into the next….

PUMPKINS!

I never understood the pumpkin hype with fall. Never a fan of this beyond carving them into jack-o-lanterns I certainly didn’t understand why anyone would want it as part of their morning latte. I still forgo the pumpkin spiced coffee, but have definitely fallen deeply in love with pumpkin bread, cookies, pie…anything else you can get a fresh one into. That is the key…it has to be fresh…not canned. We grew our first pumpkins by accident, a result of a Halloween pumpkin tossed into the compost bin. Not sure what to do with a dozen garden pumpkins I decided to make my first ever pumpkin pie, something I never cared for. What a difference using a real pumpkin made! Motivated I kept going and pumpkin bread has become one of my all time favorites. I only make it in the fall with fresh pumpkins so now when the leaves begin to change I know it’s time.

HIKES TO WATCH THE CHANGING COLORS

Each season has its thing that makes it perfect for hiking. Summer is the obvious choice…warm weather, cool mountain lakes. Spring is great for all the wildflowers and to anticipate summer coming. Even winter has its charm with the snow covered trails and cool air making the mountains quiet. But, fall is in a league all its own. The colors! Bright yellows, oranges, reds…mixed in with the green…it takes your breath away. Whether you are hiking through it or above it and looking down, it’s simply spectacular. Some of my favorites are Triple Tree Trail, Sypes Canyon and South Cottonwood because of the abundance of aspen trees changing. In town, Peet’s Hill is a wonderful place to stroll up and look down at the many colors of Bozeman. Right across the street from that is the Gallagator Trail, another great one to take fall in.

HAY RIDES, APPLE CIDER AND THE PUMPKIN PATCH

I briefly lived in my husband’s home state of Michigan and discovered the fun of a pumpkin patch and apple orchard. They were everywhere and huge! You couldn’t help but get into the spirit of the season when picking apples to be turned into fresh cider and walking through miles of pumpkin patch to pick your perfect one. Bozeman may not have all that, but we do have Rocky Creek Farm and they’re pretty fantastic. Each year we take a Saturday in October to head there for a tractor ride to find pumpkins, pet the goats and experience the Montana version of this activity. With the mountains in the background, caramel apples and happy people it’s always a good time.

Enjoy this lovely fall in Bozeman. And, while you’re at it grab a pumpkin or two from a friend with a garden, the pumpkin patch or the farmers market and whip up some pumpkin bread…you’ll be happy you did!

PUMPKIN BREAD RECIPE

-1 ½ cups flour

-1/2 tsp salt

-1 cup sugar

-1 tsp baking soda

-1 tsp ground ginger

-1/2 tsp cinnamon

-1/2 tsp nutmeg

-1/2 tsp allspice

-1 cup pumpkin puree (to make this, cut a small pumpkin in half, remove the seeds and strings, bake cut side down on an aluminum lined baking sheet at 350-degrees for around 45 minutes. Scoop out the soft insides and puree until smooth. Freeze what you don’t use for a later time!)

-1 stick of melted butter

-2 eggs

-1/4 cup water

 

1. Mix dry ingredients in one bowl and wet in another. Combine and mix only until blended.

2. Pour into a greased loaf pan and bake at 350-degrees for 45-55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Enjoy!