More on (Moron) Scent Reduction — Go Figure
See, it’s this issue that always stuck in my craw– how can scent be all that important when firearms have a clear stench and deer are supposedly not minding? Ditto for rubber boots. Ditto for ATV’s.
Mind you, I’ve been following this whole scent suppression business since before some folks on this forum were probably born. Also mind you that if you’d asked me about this in 1989, I would have said that there wasn’t enough you could do to lower your scent profile.
Now that I’m on my own 200 acres for 8 seasons and have gotten to know my herd and they me, I can offer this bit of tempering to the debate:
1) A little bit of sodium bicarb goes a long way. I do my clothes in it. I bathe with it. I use it under my arms and on the rest of my body.
2) Changing your clothes goes a long way. That which can be replaced should. That which can’t needs to be aired out whenever possible.
3) Removing outer layers and carrying them in a sack so that you don’t sweat goes a long way.
. . . but after all that you really need to mind the wind. If the wind is against you, you’re screwed.
Just as a for-instance. I helped #3 son take his first deer back on Oct 12. On Oct 18, we had the ML Opener. #3 son wanted to go out, and I gave him the option of sitting on his own in a treestand– not to hunt, but to just watch with binos. It was in sight of my stand. He took me up on it.
I’d been in that stand scouting a month earlier– no scent control– smelly sneakers and all. At 200 yards, I’d gotten picked off by a doe, and I watched as she went from chewing clover to eying my position to making the decision to move off.
It was now the afternoon of the 18th. #3 is in that stand, I’m in a stand at the other end of the field, in the woods. The same herd of doe comes out to feed on the clover. The wind changes and that old doe is between #3 and me. The same thing happens– she gets wind of #3 and slinks off towards me.
There’s probably someone who’s drunk the Atsko Kool-Aid who is going to tell me that if I’d sprayed the kid down with their preparation, this would not have happened. Somebody else is going to tell me their charcoal MOP suit would have made my son invisible. I say Hooey!
You also have to remember that I had been in a stand watching this the whole time, and for the first half of the encounter, I was directly upwind of the doe. I could have nailed her with that stinky old smokepole, smelling of sulphur, Crisco, and old leather any time in that 20 minute period. What’s more, I was playing “I crush your head!” on that deer the whole time. I was lining up shots and pulling the trigger without the hammer back, just to practice. I just wasn’t in the mood to bust a cap on a doe.
The diff? My guess is the little goober was moving– he’s quite a squirmer. He was excited to see deer. He was probably sliding around on his seat. His little orange head was probably bobbing up and down. The total gestalt: there’s a hunter up in that stand, and he means to do me harm.
Me? I’m a shaman. Years of training in Zen and the Tao have left me a master of the woods. When my prey appears I am able to still my mind and become part of the forest. I am nothing. I am the wind. I am a leaf on the tree. My powers of deception reach fully into the mind of the deer.
“These are not the ‘droids you are looking for.”
. . . who the heck knows! Honestly. It’s just as much a mystery to me as you guys. The one thing I can tell you is that I didn’t change my poly-pro the next morning. Mooseboy, #2 son, had forgotten his, and I loaned him my spare set the previous afternoon. I got snorted 3 times before sunrise and then saw nothing in 4 hours of hunting.
Meanwhile, my spare set of polypro came back to me reeking of Mooseboy, Mooseboy cologne, Mooseboy aftershave, Mooseboy deoderant, Mooseboy body wash . . .the total effect smelled like a moose that had run through a perfume store– yet, there was his deer on the meatpole.
Go figure. Here’s a pic of me and the Mooseboy with his doe. He’s already taken off his polypro shirt, because he’s hot– it was close to 60F. Me? I’m being stupid.
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