If you look on the calendar, March 20^th was the first day of spring here in SE Pennsylvania. We would like to think that some magical weather switch automatically brings us warm, sunny weather starting on March 21^st and never looks back. It doesn’t quite work that way, especially in other parts of the Keystone State. Winter is over when winter chooses to be over! Theresa and I decided to test this weather fact, first hand, with a long weekend birding trip with a group from the PSO (PA Ornithological Society) to Presque Isle State Park, in Erie. It won’t be that bad, we told each other. It was a week later, so it should be even “closer to spring weather.” Not so much!

 We arrived at our hotel in North East, PA, about 14 miles, well, you know, northeast of Erie. It was cold, snowing and blowing. Not exactly what we had pictured. After a good meal at a local Irish Pub, we bundled up and headed out to see if we could call an owl or two. The smaller owls (Saw-whet and Eastern Screech) were not very cooperative, but after a few minutes of trying to call a Screech owl, the group got an unexpected close encounter with a Great-horned Owl, as one came flying in right over our heads, made a quick swoop, then disappeared into the darkness. It obviously was expecting to make a Screech owl a late night snack!

 When we woke up early Saturday, March 28^th, the temperature outside was 8° F, it was snowing sideways with 20 mph winds. Two inches had already fallen and a few “flurries” was supposed to continue on and off for the next few hours. The high temperature for the day was forecasted to be 25° F. It never reached it! Aaah! Welcome to spring in northwest, PA.

Presque Isle Bay is a great late winter/early spring location for a variety of migrating gulls and waterfowl, as long as there’s open water for them to feed. Although the bay was almost entirely frozen (as was Lake Erie), there was still areas of open water where many birds gathered. In fact, that was the cool thing. Since there was only a few sections that were not iced-over, many species of waterfowl and gulls were forced to share ‘swimming areas” together. In one of these open water areas we identified 17 species of waterfowl and 6 species of gulls!

 Our first stop was a parking lot that overlooked an open water area. Our trip leader cautioned us that part of the walkway where we all stood in a puddle of water the evening before, was now a sheet of ice. Now, I’m pretty sure I remember him saying something about ice, and hearing my dear wife echoing the same, but with my scope and tripod firmly secured in my right hand, I boldly stepped on to the ice way (ice + walkway = ice way) without fear and without hesitation. That’s when everything started to go wickedly wrong. My left foot slid due north and my right leg started to head south. The 3 legs of the tripod I was tightly holding hit the walkway at the same time and also started to slip. I let out a loud, barking sound, similar to a young elephant that had lost its parents. In slow motion, I looked up to see the entire group staring at me with their mouths gaped wide open, not sure if they were concerned about my welfare, or upset that I just scared off most of the ducks that were gathered in front of us. As my momentum carried me across the small ice way, I caught myself, straightened up, set my tripod down and politely asked, “So, where’s the Trumpeter Swan?” Not a great way to impress this group of veteran birders!

By mid-morning, Theresa and I broke away from the main group to check out some of the other areas of the park, including the frozen beaches of Lake Erie, the Tom Ridge Environmental Center, then ventured into Erie to look for birds at Dobbin’s Landing on the Bayfront. It was cold, but we enjoyed birding PISP, met some great people and promised to come back to visit Erie again (in the warmer months). We left Erie, and began our long trip home, with a few additional birding stops in Erie National Wildlife Refuge (where my truck, Big Blue, grew some small stalactites on the front wheel wells), Bald Eagle State Park in Centre County and the Susquehanna River near Harrisburg. We traveled approximately 1,000 miles, covered 16 counties, saw 70 species of birds and shared some funny stories. But, we suggest if you’re planning a “spring” trip to Erie, wait until at least mid-June, just to be sure!

A few days ago I saw something I’ve never seen before in the outdoors. It was just before sunrise. That special time of the early morning when darkness has begun to fade, but just a hint of light begins to illuminate the sky in a soft, cobalt color. The pre-dawn hour is also when our eyes begin to distinguish the surrounding landscape, including trees, hills and sometimes living creatures! It was at this precise time of the morning when I had my encounter.

I was driving north along a rural section of road in Schuylkill County a few days ago when suddenly a dark, furry critter loped across the four-lane highway about 50 yards in front of me. It was just beyond the beam of my headlights, but I could definitely make out a 3’-4’ long animal with a long fluffy tail. “What the heck was that?” I said to myself. I quickly slowed the truck down to warp speed, and like The Dukes of Hazard driving General Lee, I checked for traffic (none) and guided Big Blue into a swift U-turn, hopping a low concrete median that I never noticed. My coffee mug went flying, and I still haven’t found the lemon pie I had bought 30 minutes earlier. As I whipped the vehicle around to the shoulder of the road, grabbing my camera at the same time, there was the beast. It had ran down the embankment and was poking through the woods, heading away from me. I began snapping photos, but forgot to adjust for the low light, until the last picture was taken. As quickly as I observed the mysterious animal, it was gone. “An Otter, I thought to myself, but there was no water anywhere that I could see. Then it came to me-a Fisher. But, Fishers don’t occur down here in Schuylkill County, do they? I knew of the PA Game Commission’s re-introduction of these furbearers in the mid to late 1990s, but that was way up in the northern tier counties. Could they have expanded down here in the past 15 years? Maybe, there was certainly enough habitat for them to live in Schuylkill County. As I sat there having some sort of scientific debate with myself (and still looking for the missing lemon pie), I was convinced that it was a Fisher, the second largest member of the weasel family. It was a very cool sighting! However, before I decided on my final identification, there was another passing thought that entered my mind-the legendary Chupacabra!

OK, so maybe I’ve watched far too many of the “monster” shows on the Animal Planet or Discovery channels, but you never know! The Chupacabra is an alleged creature of the south, with sightings in Texas, Mexico and even Puerto Rico. Chupacabra is Spanish for “goat sucker”. The creature’s name derives from stories in Latin America of people finding dead goats with puncture wounds in their necks and all the blood drained from their bodies. One of the facts going against my mythical sighting is that there are no records of Chupacabras in Schuylkill County, PA. Especially one running across snow, ice and RT 309……and I saw no evidence of any goats grazing in the vicinity!

Anyone who knows me, knows that Chupacabras aren’t the only “mythical” creatures I believe exist on our planet. I would like to believe that we simply haven’t discovered every living thing out there. On the top of my bucket list is the most famous, fabled beast of them all-Bigfoot. There have been sightings in almost every state in the U.S. Also known as Sasquatch, or local varieties called the Skunk Ape (FL), Rugaru (LA), Fouke Monster (AR-where I visited in February!), Yowie (Australia) and the Yeti (Himalayan Mountains). Yes, I believe they all exist, all different types of Bigfoot-not sure what more than one Bigfoot are called, Bigfoots? Bigfeet? Unfortunately, I can honestly say I’ve never had the privilege of seeing a Bigfoot, yet, but I’m still searching. I did hear tree knocks one night when I was living in the mountains of western North Carolina, but it may have been one of the kids from the camp I was working at, or a very large woodpecker. Unconfirmed.

I’m still trying to convince my wife, daughter and sister to take an extended vacation with me, traveling throughout America, in search of Bigfoots. Of course we would do some birding and do a little sightseeing, but the main quest would be to collect video/photographic evidence to scientifically confirm the existence of these cool monsters. If we could financially benefit from our evidence in the form of photos, a book deal, TV appearances and maybe even a Disney movie, that might be nice, too! Our method, simple, we buy hundreds of packs of Jack Links Beef Jerky to use as bait, then just start Messin With Sasquatch! I think the ultimate would be to get a few selfies with the main beast! I betcha we would get lots of “Likes” on Facebook! By the way, don’t get me started with the Loch Ness Monster, which would be the perfect fishing trip! DO YOU BELIEVE? 

The thermometer showed a balmy 6 degrees F when we left my brother’s house. Jimmy and I had already decided the night before that our destination would be Hunter’s Lake in Sullivan County. It was early February, and our hope was that we could coax a few fish to take our baited tip-ups under the frozen surface of this northern lake. Jimmy told me the weather was a bit warmer than it was just a few days before, which had dipped to -10 degrees F. Did it really matter? We were standing on a giant ice cube covered with snow?

Some say that ice fisherman are a bit foolish, even a tad irrational, for putting on five layers of clothes and departing a warm house to go outside and stand in sub-freezing temperatures on a large chunk of ice. But, if you’re an avid angler living in a northern state, it can be a long and challenging wait until your favorite lake or river has open water available to fish. The winters can sometimes drag on for months (Hint: NOW). There’s only some much tinkering you can do with your tackle and gear indoors, before your desire to go outside and go fishing overcomes your rational thinking-no matter what the conditions! As Jimmy and I agreed, “We go ice fishing, but we don’t consider ourselves dedicated ice fisherman!”

When we turned on to the unplowed, access road leading to the lake, we should have taken the clue of not seeing any fresh tire tracks in the foot of snow covering the road. One thing we’ve learned over the years of occasionally venturing out to frozen waters is ice fishing is a social event, you tend to fish in small groups where other crazy ice fisherman are set-up. But, on this morning there were no signs of other humans. It was as if we were standing on the surface of a far-away frozen planet. We were by ourselves with no traces of any recent ice angling activity. Surprising? Yes and no. It was a Saturday in the middle of ice fishing season on a public lake, so we expected to see at least a couple of others. Maybe it was the cold temps, or the wicked winds that were beginning kick up. Maybe it was the forecasted snowstorm that was scheduled to hit in a couple hours, or maybe it was the 26” of ice we had to drill through to find liquid water (thankfully, we did have a power auger). We were here with all our gear and a few live shiners that Jimmy had sparingly kept alive in his aerated minnow bucket, feeding them goldfish flakes since his last ice trip. It was time to give this a shot!

 We set-up 6 tip-ups at various depths extending out from the shoreline. Jimmy also drilled us each a hole to jig in, while sitting in our chairs. The jigging holes gives you something to do while waiting for a flag to pop up on one of your tip-ups. We were pleasantly surprised when, after only waiting for 30 minutes or so, one of the flags near the shore rose up quickly. Jimmy was up first, running toward the tip-up like a hungry grizzly ready to pounce on a salmon! As he approached the spool he noticed it was spinning-a good sign that a fish, bigger than his well-fed shiner, had grabbed the baitfish and was running with it. It was then I broke the cardinal rule in ice fishing. In my excitement and anticipation, I bellowed out, “Set the hook!” Jimmy just ignored me. “You should not bark orders across the ice for a fish that’s not yours,” I said to myself, as I bowed my head slightly in embarrassment and just watched. As he pulled on the line, I saw the line go limp, then saw Jimmy relax back on his knees. The fish had bit through the line and got away. Jimmy gazed around the cold, barren lake as if looking for some kind of sympathy from someone. But, the only thing he could see, was me, standing there in my old, worn-out Carharts, like a large, brown water buffalo staring in disappointment. Bummer! We both got a little satisfaction about an hour later as I yanked a 16” Pickerel from the same hole he had lost his fish in earlier. Sensing it could be our only fish, we proudly took several photos before releasing it back into the cold, dark water.

When you’re the only two people foolish enough to be out on a frozen lake in February in single digit temps, corkscrewing holes through 2’ of ice while 25 mph winds blow your chairs halfway across the lake each time you get up to check a flag, you both get credit for catching the only fish of the day. That’s ice fishing! Bring on spring-it’s time for the ice to melt!