Photo of a young black bear by the Forest Service, Northen Region, via Flickr.
By Ryan Trapani
Catskill Forest Association’s From the Forest sponsored article series depicts all things that are well… From the Forest. This may include a menagerie of topics including: timber, maple syrup, wood products, paper products, fuel-wood, woody biomass, ginseng, hunting, mushrooms and leeks among various forest edibles, wildlife, and more. Some of these things are more familiar than others – for example timber and maple syrup. Others are less familiar, and it is the hope of From the Forest to appreciate and familiarize ourselves with the multi-faceted benefits our forests provide via human and natural influences. The agricultural movement has benefitted from raising the individual’s awareness of its local products. “Buy fresh, buy local.” It is now time also for the forestry movement to do the same and also capitalize on the many local services, products, benefits, and experiences it provides as well. Perhaps it is because Foresters and other woods workers are camouflaged from the public’s points of view – obstructed by forested vegetation – while farmers are easily spotted, working their fields and pastures. So, From the Forest will strive to shed some sunlight onto forestry’s introverted nature, and reveal not only its flora and fauna, but also the individuals who work in it and their experiences as well.
Recently, I stumbled across another aspect that was From the Forest, or perhaps it stumbled across me. Last deer hunting season started off with a bang – or in this case – the soft wisp of an arrow. Early in the season I took two female deer and gratefully began to fill the freezer. One or two more would fill my requirements for meat for the year. I passed on one young buck after the other; I was out for larger, older bucks instead, or so I kept reminding myself. Most of the bucks I saw were lonely, adolescents that had been kicked out by their mothers earlier in the year, and left to themselves. They combed the forest edges, pastures, and swamps in search of a mate. They seemed lost. It was not uncommon for me to climb up a tree into my stand and find a few minutes later one of these young bucks underneath. Believing the recent noise to be another deer, the curious and lonely buck paced underneath – back and forth – wondering where the deer had gone. Sometimes he would catch my scent and robotically and slowly move away – lifting his one leg in the air and stamping it down. His insecurity subsided once he was a distance away.
As October’s bow season matured into November’s gun season, I still had not harvested any deer and began to question my stubbornness in letting some of those young bucks go. Sure, they would mature into healthy, large-racked bucks, but how well can I physically mature from dining on antlers? I was waiting for a doe anyway, right? Gun season ended in early December leaving a week or so for the late bow/muzzle-loading season. I had some close encounters, but still no deer; either the wind was bad and had revealed my scent, a neighbor’s dog strayed too far causing one deer’s habitual daily stroll to change course, or daylight had expired for a clear shot. Frustration sat in. At least I had some deer meat in the freezer, and after all, it was nice to spend some time observing the woods from my perch.
Referring to hunting in the woods, a friend of mine used to say, “Anything can happen.” He used to point to a prominent game trail or to some other sign and predict the deer’s whereabouts upon which he’d assign our hunting location. On one late evening hunt, after seeing no sign of any deer and beginning to feel frustrated, I heard a crack and a crunch. At first, I thought it was the sound of a clumsy human who was about to reduce my chances of “anything happening.” A dark object appeared and instantly I knew what it was. Earlier in October our area’s oak trees had been full of acorns. Up in the trees were the best tree climbers I had ever seen – black bears. They preferred the white oak and chestnut oak acorns over the red, since they are less bitter. Last time I saw them was during the early bow season. I never really considered hunting bear since deer usually filled my meat requirements and I had heard mixed reviews about their meat.
There wasn’t much time to think about it, but quickly weighing the fact that the freezer was low and the bear would make it heavier, I came to a conclusion. The bear literally moved straight towards my tree and in clear line of sight. The bear could have walked anywhere in this section of woods, but on that day it walked right towards me, proving that “anything can happen.” Walking within 15 yards, it stopped behind a bush. “Once it moves beyond it”, I told myself in my head, “I will take my shot.” The bear moved. I raised my bow and pulled back on the string and held it there. To stop the bear from moving, I then made a subtle vocalization that imitated a deer. It stopped… and it seemed that everything else did too. I breathed in, and waited for the pause at the end of my exhale where one is supposed to be most at ease for an accurate shot. In a moment, the arrow released from the bow reacting the bear into a black flash. By the time I had lowered my bow, the bear was almost out of sight. The bear ran downhill like a bowling ball, knocking over small trees and shrubs as if they were bowling pins. The woods echoed the bear’s running gate and then went quiet again. I was fairly certain that the arrow went where I wanted it to. It was stuck in the ground and had gone straight through, but there were very little remnants of the bear. After searching for a while in the dark, I luckily found it when its eyes reflected back from the light of my head-lamp. The bear was down, and must have died fast judging from the shot placement. Hunting, like anything else is not perfect, but is a practice.
Thinking back to that day before I saw the bear, I remember being somewhat frustrated about not seeing any deer. But, anything can happen. More importantly, bear meat is good – so far. What is most different about bear is the fat. There is a lot of it; the fat is used by the bear to keep it warm during winter hibernation. Many hunters throw this fat out, but there are many uses for it after it has been rendered – cooking, leather treatment, soap-making, and skin moisturizing. Native Americans probably used bear fat for a number of things, but cooking must have been very important. We take the modern-day market and trade system for granted and the vegetable oils it provides us with for cooking our various meals. Back then, bear fat provided an easily accessible and abundant source of cooking grease. They also mixed it with dried fruit and meat called pemmican. Some older residents in the Catskills still remark about how some of their family members used it to make pie crust. According to a variety of sources, “It makes the best pie crust” because of its flakiness. I can say that it makes for a tasty medium to fry venison or bear meat in. In this way, bear fat was the original North American cooking grease – From the Forest. catskillforest.org
