Cabin Fever Remedies
Denny Murawska
Not for the faint of heart
The nights are long and every day cold penetrates to the bone. Still, cabin fever in the north is a very real thing. This is why we must get out and seize the moment whenever possible. For some, it is cross country skiing. For the nostalgic, perhaps snowshoeing is a good option. Of course, ice fishing, hiking, and snow machines get the job done. But there exists a breed apart from paths that are commonly trodden. These are the Hole Hunters.
Down south, an odd sport known as noodling for giant catfish is practiced. In this decidedly redneck version of fishing, one submerges in stagnant pools of mysterious creatures probing holes for gigundo catfish. The macho twist is you use your hands to drag these behemoths out!
Unfortunately, in Yooper land this is not possible, even in summer. The giant catfish are not there. Neither are other creatures that make this a peak adrenaline spike. These include gators, giant snapping turtles, and water moccasins. Now, we may not have cold-blooded predators such as these cohabiting with us, but there are other equally sublime versions of flirting with disaster that a hardy few practice up here.
I was first introduced to what I call Hole Hunting by a fellow who is a school principal. He came to school one day with his hand all bandaged up. Ouch! It was a nasty gash.
“How’d that happen, Lyle?”
“Well, my dog was on point and I saw something run into a hole.”
“Okay. And then?” (Somehow I already know the answer.)
“Well, I reached in to see what it was and got bitten!”
“Jeez, hope they checked for rabies. Can I see the teeth marks again?”
“Sure. I’m thinkin’ skunk.”
“Yep, looks like skunk. Maybe a badger, eh?”
Clearly, it was not the bird he had been chasing. For days I pondered why anyone would do this. It seemed comparable to sticking your tongue in a light socket to see what electricity feels like. It’s great to be curious about some things. Others, like wondering what gasoline tastes like, are better left unexplored.
At first, I surmised this was an isolated incident of tomfoolery. Then I met Bud Evans near Crandon, Wisconsin. Bud is a hearty fellow who knows plenty about the northwoods and its wildlife. He has a flourishing lumber business and some neat engineering on his property. Spring-fed ponds dug out on his land hold trout.
Many animals come to visit this mecca for a cold drink and possibly some food. Bud knows of at least 20 bears that can be found visiting this oasis. Most nights they can be viewed right out back.
During the winter, bears dig dens and hibernate. Although not true hibernators, they enter a time of deep sleep from which they occasionally are aroused. It is during this slumber that Bud practices his own form of Hole Hunting. In the grand hierarchy of nosing around animal burrows, this is the pinnacle. Bud not only finds these bear dens, but actually crawls inside and does a bit of picture taking! Hopefully, the bears are in a deep stupor at the time, but now and then they can get a little frisky. In one den, Bud found four bears and got some nice shots. These are not telephoto shots but actual in-your-face close-ups in which it appears mommy bear is wide awake.
- Don’t wear wool pants. You might smell like a sheep, and bear enjoy eating sheep.
- Wear a snowmobile helmet. It makes for quicker, smoother entries and those all-important fast exits.
- Don’t tickle the cute cubs. Mommy gets irate.
- Wear Depends. Your backup gun will stay cleaner, and all around cleanup will be much easier.
- Bring a camera.
- Bring a friend for backup. Choose a slow runner. You will get away!
If it were me, I would make certain I had a stoic and strong partner to pull me out of the dens by my ankles. Come to think of it, a winch might be even better. I am not sure how often Bud does this each winter, but he sure does seem to enjoy the company of these critters. I have to wonder if they have fond memories of his intrusions as well. Best of luck, Bud!