By Glen Wunderlich Outdoor Columnist Member Professional Outdoor Media Association
At the recent Deer and Turkey Spectacular in Lansing, I stopped by Ed Spinazzola’s booth to purchase some brassica seed for this year’s food plot. While there, a tall, slender man introduced himself as Leon Hank. I knew the name from information I have received from the Quality Deer Management Association of Michigan and I explained to Leon how much I appreciate the timely, inside news. (Leon is a director of the first Michigan chapter, Mid-Michigan branch.) Leon moved away from me for a minute and returned with a book in his hands that he had written and just signed for me, Proud Hunters, Proud Yoopers. I already liked this proud hunter.
The book is a compilation of 50 of Leon’s hunting stories from the Eastern Upper Peninsula, where he grew up and returns to hunt many times each year from his home in Holt. He explains in great detail how he went from BB gun, to making his first bow in school, to rifle hunting some of the wildest land in our nation for various game. In chapter 37 he recounts how two hunters got lost in the vast Gogemain swamp; one came out alive after four days, and in a separate incident, the other did not.
Although I didn’t grow up there, as Leon did, I spent eight seasons in Iron County hunting whitetails and one session in 1989 was indicative of just how brutal conditions can be in the northern wilderness.
Fast Frank and I had already hunted near the Net River for three seasons and we always prepared for the worst weather, or so we thought. My 1971 Ford pickup with its 10-foot camper in the bed had transported us to the land of the Yooper several times and it was always exciting to finally arrive to our camping area in the commercial forest. After the long 475-mile excursion, it would seem as though we had already been rewarded just by getting there.
The 18-year old truck was new in comparison to the gaudy camper sitting above it. It didn’t have a heater, so we used an infrared unit mounted atop a propane tank inside our home away from home. For safety, we would keep a window open slightly for ventilation.
We awoke on November 15 to one of the most spectacular sights two hunters could imagine: six inches of fresh snow. When I ventured out the first morning of firearms deer season, I marveled at the beauty of the heavy snow. However, the wet, white stuff hung to the branches of the trees and pulled them down to where vision was restricted severely. There would be no long shots with my .30-06 on this day.
I was fortunate to kill a young buck that day and dragged him back to camp in relative ease across the snow-slicked timber floor and hung my prize alongside the camper.
When Fast Frank and I retired to the confining camp for the evening, we fired up the heater and noticed that it wasn’t burning properly. The heating element wasn’t burning completely and to prevent asphyxiation, reluctantly we were forced to shut it down.
I had extra sleeping bags and offered Frank one of them, but for some unknown reason, he declined. It was a terrible mistake. The temperature plummeted under the clear nighttime sky to near zero degrees and the winds howled like a lone wolf. Everything in the camper froze by morning – the water jugs, canned food, everything – including Frank’s feet. As miserable as he was, he was there to hunt, but his frostbitten feet made for one grumpy hunting companion for the next three days.
Even though temperatures moderated to approximately 15 degrees during the daytime hours, Frank was would never get warm on this trip. As a result, we headed back to Shiawassee County a bit earlier than planned, because of his discomfort. Before the next deer season, I installed a forced-air furnace in the camper, but it was too late for Frank. He never went there again with me.
If this story gives you an idea about the unique nature of hunting in the U.P., Leon’s book is more of the same but from a perspective that only a Yooper can have. It’s an unapologetic description of one man’s life as a hunter and the special bond created with his mentor and father – another proud Yooper – and five generations of the Hank family.
You can get a copy of Proud Hunters Proud Yoopers by sending a check or money order for $16.73 (includes taxes and shipping) to the following:
