I was recently studying my OnX map of the landscape north of Wolf Run on State Game Land 57, and the color blocks denoting various features of the landscape (thermal blanket, wetlands, acorn-producing oaks) suddenly reminded me of the old video game Tetris. For a millennial like me, hunting can be a bit like playing a game: you're trying to manipulate all these different blocks to fit together.
Just before gun season, as my dog Indy and I were coming down the Wolf Run Trail, someone was hiking up. It turned out to be Gerry Kapral, a retired employee of the Pennsylvania Game Commission. Kapral initially worked as a conservation officer and then as an information and education officer for the northeast region. He explained that after an exciting but frustrating archery season, he went to his range to take care of a few things. Kapral admitted that he spends a lot of time in the Wolf Run area of the game land. I took advantage of our chance meeting to get his contact information and we have been in touch ever since, exchanging trail camera photos and coordinating our locations on the days we plan to hunt in the area. Encountering Kapral at the right moment in 46,671.5 hectares of public landscape also seemed to be a bit of luck. But I think the old saying is: the harder you work, the luckier you get.
Gene Wensel, the author and revered traditional bowhunter, wrote: “There is no single magic formula or 'grand secret' to becoming a good deer hunter. It is nothing more than the sum of time and effort.”
It's a feeling I constantly share with my son Tommy. In its simplest form, the hunt illustrates the importance of the time-consuming and laborious nail that Wensel drives in with his hammer. In any serious pursuit of improvement, we hear this cliché all the time: “You have to fall in love with the process.” But that's easier said than done, especially for a 10-year-old child. During the entire archery season, Tommy spent just over 30 hours in the tree stand. We had many encounters with good bucks and does, but the pieces never quite fit together.
On opening day of Rifle, we followed the routine. We got up early, organized our backpacks and hiked into the field. At 10:20 that morning, Tommy shot perfectly at fifty yards and soon discovered that Wensel was right. The math adds up.
Tommy carries a New England Firearms .223 caliber single-shot rifle. It has a detached, custom-made stem that fits it perfectly. The rifle belongs to one of his best friends, Dominic Giorandano. Dom's grandfather Gaetano bought it for him when he started hunting a few years ago. Soon Dom outgrew the gun and when Tommy began hunting, Dom's father Aaron offered to let Tommy use the gun. That's why every year before firearms season, after Thanksgiving, our tradition is to go to the Giorandanos, borrow the .223, and zero our rifles together.
The night before the opening, Tommy and Dom sent each other a few words of encouragement.
“I'm ready! Good luck tomorrow,” Dom said. “I hope we both smoke a lot of money.”
“[Thank you]“I wish you good luck too,” Tommy replied.
After watching their conversation, I sent Aaron a message on opening morning with a screenshot of their conversation.
“How cool is that,” I said.
“I love it, dude,” Aaron replied.
That afternoon, Dom fulfilled his hopes and goal with his first buck, a beautiful 9-pointer who hunted his home alongside his father and grandfather.
If you asked Gaetano, senior pastor of Slocum Chapel in Harding, he would undoubtedly say that the good Lord played a major role in Dom's success.
“When Aaron found the deer that night, Dom said, 'God gave me my deer,'” Giorandano said. “And that really made my heart happy.”
Of course, you can't discredit the hard work and dedication.
Jeff Koch, golf course manager at Glenmaura Country Club, grew up hunting national forest land. Every year he organizes a deer hunt with his close friends in the turf industry. Luckily for me, Aaron Giorandano is one of those friends, and over the years I've managed to get into the mix. The planning effort alone is impressive, but it's Koch's scouting regiment throughout the year that is heroic. Koch operates up to 25 trail cameras across several square miles of public land and, in some cases, has watched some deer grow and mature over several years. The footage he captures is incredible, not to mention the miles he travels to retrieve this data. He then shares his intense hunt for these deer with his friends, such a rare and unique trait in today's modern arms race to acquire antlers.
Last Wednesday, during our annual outing, I asked Koch's thoughts about his knowledge of his home territory. It wasn't easy to keep up with the experienced greenkeeper. He hovered over the snow-covered rocky ground as we weaved between mountain laurel trees and chestnut oaks. There's nothing fancy about him: a bright orange Cabela's fleece vest with a few safety pins holding the pockets in place, a matching tattered ball cap, and some insulated camouflage that's frayed at the edges from many seasons of storming through the tangles of cat bushes. His Remington Model 7600 .308 slung over his shoulder, and I noticed a chip in the wood of the buttstock, a small detail from the history of a shooter's trusted tool. The hard ground leaves these lasting marks.
“I only see mountains and possibilities where I can take you,” Koch said.
After my first walk of the day we reorganized at the trucks and I found myself in the company of artist Rich Gdovin of Gdovin Wildlife Art and my old friend Jim Wyatt. Gdovin also works as a sales representative for seeds and fertilizers in the industry. However, like me, Wyatt strategically inserted nepotism into the annual tradition. Wyatt had harvested a buck a few days earlier and had the skull and cape in the back of the truck on the way to the taxidermist later that evening.
When I looked closely at the antlers, I noticed that there was still young tree cambium in the small gaps between the tiny, polished nubs around the brow tines. This beautiful detail reminded me of a simple but remarkable detail: that the hue of a buck's antlers is determined by the type of tree they rub against as they roam their territory. In other words, they are part of the country and the country is part of them.
As I sat by the woodstove that evening, organizing my gear and reflecting on the first half of this hunting season, this wonderful quote from Mickey Mantle came to mind: “It's incredible how much you don't know about the game you've played your whole life.”
That's why we play game.
TC Mazar is a freelance outdoor writer and can be reached at wildlife@scrantontimes.com.