Frostbite describes the condition that occurs when skin and underlying body tissues freeze as a result of exposure to cold. When skin and body tissues freeze, the water contained in each cell expands. Healthy warm cells are very elastic, but freezing cells are rigid. The result? As body tissue fluid freezes and expands, the cells split open, much like an over-filled container placed in the freezer. The cellular damage that results from frostbite can lead to severe disfiguration and even death.

  Frostbite can occur anytime the environmental temperature or the wind chill drops below freezing, 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Uncovered areas of the body are most likely to suffer, with the nose, ears, cheeks, chin, fingers and toes most often affected. Frostbite can set in very slowly, or very quickly depending on how long the skin is exposed to the cold and how cold and windy it is. It cannot be emphasized strongly enough that frostbite need not happen even at extremes of altitude, temperature and fatigue: frequently a degree of carelessness is the chief cause.

  Frostbite occurs in three stages; frostnip, superficial frostbite, and deep frostbite. The initial stage is called frostnip. The skin turns unusually white and soft and will have a pins and needles feeling. This can easily be treated by allowing warm breath on the frost-nipped area or soaking the area in warm water.

  Superficial frostbite occurs when the skin freezes and ice crystals form inside the skin cells, but the tissue underneath remains flexible. The skin turns yellow-grey, painless, numb and leathery or waxy to the touch. Upon warming, the area will turn red and painful as blood flow to the area returns to normal. A few hours after thawing the tissue swells and during the first two days giant blisters form. Try not to break them. These blisters settle during the first week leaving tissue hideously discolored, and if gangrenous, shrunken and black. This carapace, or shell separates in several weeks. If the frostbite is superficial, pink new skin will appear beneath the carapace: if deep, the end of a toe or finger will gradually separate off - an unsightly but usually painless process.

  In deep frostbite the tissue is hard, white and obviously frozen, like a piece of chicken from a freezer. This is the most serious type of frostbite because it affects the blood vessels, muscles, nerves, tendons and even bone. It can lead to permanent damage, blood clots and sometimes gangrene, which is the death and decay of body tissues. In deep frostbite, the affected areas become completely numb to all feeling and remain cool and splotchy or blue after warming. The frost-bitten area will turn black and hard. The skin surrounding the area may swell up and stay swollen for a month or longer. If gangrene develops, amputation of the finger or limb may be necessary.

  If you suspect frostbite, seek shelter. Remove wet, constrictive clothing and place the frostbitten area in direct skin-to-skin contact with a warm area on the victim or a buddy. Seek immediate medical attention to prevent infection and possible loss of a limb. Even with deep frostbite, if medical treatment is prompt, most frozen limbs may be saved.

  NOTE: Do not re-warm a frostbite injury if it could refreeze during evacuation.
  Do not re-warm frostbitten feet if victim must walk for medical treatment.

  Frostbite can usually be prevented by using caution in extreme cold weather. Layer your clothing. Many layers of thin clothing are warmer than one bulky layer. Air spaces trap body warmth close to the skin, insulating the body against the cold. Wear two or three pairs of socks instead of one heavy pair, for example, and wear roomy shoes.

  Cover all possible body surfaces. Wear a hat, ear muffs, a scarf and mittens. Don't drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes. Alcohol dilates blood vessels, causing the body to lose heat quickly. Smoking slows down blood circulation to the extremities. Keep dry. Wet clothing is 20 times less warm than dry clothing. If you know that you are going to be out in the cold for any length of time, it is always wise to carry extra clothing with you.

  Pay attention to the warning signs of frostbite so you can prevent or treat it promptly. Remember the lower the temperature, the greater the risk of injury. Even if it is not very cold outside, high winds can reduce temperatures to dangerously low levels, making frostbite more of a danger. Also, people who have experienced frostbite need to be even more careful because they are more likely to suffer from it again. Other factors that may make a person more likely to get frostbite include being wet, exhausted, intoxicated by alcohol, taking certain medicines or drugs, smoking, diabetes and poor circulation.

  Much like your Monday through Friday life, Backwoods Adventures carry risks. By learning about these risks and taking preventive measures, you can minimize your chance for trouble and get maximum pleasure out of your outdoor adventures. Until next time...Maggie B.

  Well another year is coming to an end. The days are shorter, nights much cooler. And the leaves have turned. Most outdoorsman can no longer hear "the call of the wild" and they have given into the call of the recliner and football games. Before you decide to put that last rod and reel in storage for the season. You might want to consider an early winter fishing trip. You won't have to wait to launch the boat, and best of all the fish are feeding before ice up. Walleyes are a good species to target during the early winter transition. The big eyes are aware that winter is on its way and must fatten up to survive another year. Now is when they help each other by schooling up and herding baitfish against structure and slaughtering them.

  The last few years in the southwest, I've witnessed our Indian summers arriving later in the year and sticking around longer. This weather pattern has kept the water temperatures higher than normal, delaying the turnover in our lakes.

  When you still have water temperatures in the low 60's to the mid 50's then long lining can be an effective tool in locating walleyes. Use the lightest line possible. Six pound test is a good place to start, with a bait holder hook in size 6 to 8 range with a split shot at least 18 inches in front of the hook. A night crawler works great in the southwest. When the walleye appear inactive, I will hook the crawler through the tip of the nose, making them squirm, just enough to turn those non-biters into biters. Now you let out between 60-100 feet of line depending on how deep you’re marking fish on your graph. Adjust your line length and the amount of split shots to reach the desired depth.

  First we need to pick out a lake, and that's not an easy task because there are so many excellent choices in the southwest. In Arizona, marble eyes can be found in Saguaro Lake, Canyon Lake, Apache Lake, Lake Mary, Lake Powell, Fool Hollow Lake, and of course Show Low Lake.

  Here is a short list of walleye lakes in the White Mountains of Arizona that I would recommend. Show Low Lake and Fool Hollow Lake are within 10 miles of each other and are both famous for holding "lunker eyes", but don't forget these lakes are nestled above 6300 feet in elevation so come prepared for possible frontal conditions.

  We discussed long lining as one method for locating fish. Another technique that can be deadly is trolling or casting a Rapala, minnow bait, Shad Rap, Smithwick Rouge, or Husky Jerk. I Prefer colors that have a dark back and light belly. These lures can be found in floating, suspending, and countdown models depending on the water temperatures you desire to fish. Then suspend dots and sticky weight can be used to tweak these lures to perfection.

  Walleyes gravitate to structure and patiently wait to ambush their unsuspecting prey. Marble eyes can be found on riprap, boulders, timber, this includes standing and lay downs, and the flats. Generally when you locate the baitfish, the walleyes won't be too far away. If you are in a concentration of walleyes that are holding near the bottom, but are finicky, a Mo-Jo rig can get you a couple of bites. Some call it a mini Carolina rig, while others refer to it as split shotting. I use cylinder shaped weights because they will work through cover the best. Start with light line around six pound test and add a 3/16 ounce cylinder weight with an 18 inch leader and tie on a 2/0 XGAP X-point hook.

  I like finesse worms, craws, grubs, shadows, and on occasion French fries. You can also try live bait for this application. The tougher the bite, the lighter the line, and the longer I make the leader. This longer leader helps create a more natural and enticing appearance.

  During this time of year you will have to deal with fronts and dropping water temperatures from time to time. When you are faced with water temperatures below the fifty-degree mark and frontal conditions I prefer to vertical jig for walleyes. The more severe the front is, the deeper the fish will hold. They also pull tighter to structure and their strike zone becomes smaller. When this happens I like to use a little heavier line, because of the structure, but light enough that you can stay in contact with your jig. The heaviest I'll use is 12 pound XL Trilene, with a medium action rod. The plastics I primarily use under these conditions have little to no action. Such as tiny craws, leaches, and finesse worms, in dark colors and black. I'll Texas rig these on a 2/0 or 3/0 XGAP X-point hook. Remember the strike zone has shrunk and you must be in their face to entice a bite. Never lift the jig more than six inches off the bottom. Always stay in contact with the jig. Occasionally stop the jig when you lift it for a second or two, before letting it drop. At times shaking the jig in place will buy a bite. No, I don't use a rattle when I'm this tight to structure. The "wise eyes" already know you’re there. What a tremendous year on the water!!! Come on guys, we can get one more fishing trip in. That snow won't bother the walleyes.

  Gregg Munck is a nationally known multi species trophy fisherman from the White Mountains of Arizona. He has numerous fishing awards under his belt, including six In-Fisherman Master Angler awards. For additional information on trophy fishing, or to check out Gregg’s “Trophy Fishing Secrets” book, just visit his website www.munckstrophyfishing.com.

  For those who have been subscribers to this newsletter for awhile should be familiar with my continuing disappointing hunting story. Those that are new subscribers I'll try and recap the story quickly to get you caught up. Here it is in a nutshell. Miss, bad hit, lose while tracking or being in the wrong place at the right time. In other words after twenty years of deer hunting that wall hanger buck had always eluded me.

  Now don't think I've never gotten a deer, but there have been several times that I worked on a two and three year drought of not getting an animal. Those were the times that I questioned myself with "why do you put yourself through this?" "Do you realize the time and money spent?" "Would you rather be out Christmas shopping with the wife and kids?" And such questions. I would sulk for a month or two until fishing season came around then forget all of the bad memories until fall. But then like numerous other hunters the thought of getting a fresh start always pulled me back to the woods to try once again.

  After another two year drought, my luck started to change this fall. It began with a trip to Oklahoma, see last month's issue, where I took a button buck with my muzzleloader. First kill with the old smoking stick. I really thought it was a doe but we won't get into that right now.

  With our firearm season fast approaching I was asking myself, "could this be the year?". "Will I get a shot or even see a trophy buck this year? Where's that camouflage blanket? You want to be warm while sleeping in the blind. Should I take a pillow?"

  Okay. I'll get on with the story.

  Opening morning started off on the wrong foot. It was nothing I did but it effected me none the less. On the ride over to the hunting area I started saying things to make sure no one had forgotten anything. I wish I'd spoke up before we left.

  "Everyone got their hats and gloves?" Three voices, "Yes"

  "How about your lunch?" "Yes"

  "Tags?" Again, three voices, "Yes".

  "License and gun cards?" Two voices this time, "Yes".

  "Who didn't answer?" From Josh my son, "Me".

  "Well son-of-a-%&#$%! You're kidding right?" "No"

  I should have known! This was the same guy who forgot his gun a few years back and we had to turn around and go back and get it.

  After dropping off Kenny, no need and penalizing him, we headed back to the house. Tim my nephew jumped out too to get a couple bottles of water. He didn't want to my invoke my wrath so he kept quiet about forgetting them. But to his luck, we came back. I would have came back for his water if he'd said something. I'd been a little hot but I wouldn't have let him sit out there all day without something to drink.

  Anyway, we finally made it to the fields and off went the boys to their stands. After a quick bathroom break, I was heading to my spot on my 4-wheeler. Parking a hundred yards away I sprayed my boots with doe urine, not estrus and hiked on to my ground blind.

  I had planted some food plot stuff in the middle of the field I was hunting in September and it had grown pretty good the last few weeks thanks to warm weather and a couple of inches of rain. The three sides that were bordered by trees contained several good scraps and rubs so I knew a buck visited the area but just not when. I had only seen does at the field while bow hunting.

  I had hung a scent dripper over one scrape the week before while bow hunting and sprinkled Max 44 Doe in Heat pellets in a few others. I had been through this scenario before, to sit there for three days and the buck never shows. Another fact kept gnawing at the back of my mind. The full moon had only been two nights previous. I figured my chances of seeing a trophy buck were slim at best. The only saving thought was that the rut should be on.

  Like a thousand other hunters in the woods that morning, I had indulged in one to many drinks the evening before celebrating another year at deer camp and was doing my best to stay awake and alert with a mild hangover. I needed a deer buzz and I needed it quick. I didn't wait long.

  At 6:20 I saw a deer coming through the trees to my right. "Alright! It's a doe". It would fine and dandy with me to fill my doe tag first thing. The pressure would be off and I could wait for a nice buck. It wasn't to be. As the deer stepped into the open I saw it was a spike buck. "Darn it!" "You may pass" I whispered to him as he crossed less than twenty five feet in front of me. I was hoping this was a good sign that the deer would be moving that morning.

  I watched him go straight down the middle of the field without a care in the world. He made it to a spot where he could see my 4-wheeler and did a double take on it. Seeing it meant him no harm, he crossed the field to a scrape, nibbled on the over hanging branch, pawed the ground a little then squatted and did his business.

  After observing this my heart sank a couple of notches. Surely this wasn't the buck who had marked up the edge of the field with all those scrapes and rubs. Could it this be the buck I was hunting? I was hoping not and I did my best not to get into a rut.

  An hour later during one of my "sweeps" of the area to my left, I saw a deer. It was on a path that would bring it out into the open to my left. With only seeing only glimpses of it through the trees, my first impression was "8-pointer". I'm not sure what made me think that, it was just the first thought in my head.

  He worked his way through the trees and I kept hoping he was a shooter. When he went behind some thick brush, I brought my gun up and got a good rest on the side of the blind and waited. I was guessing he would step to the edge of the field at about twenty five to thirty yards from me and kept my eye in the scope.

  After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, I moved the scope slightly to the left to see where he was at. It didn't take much to pick him up. I followed him out into the open with the cross hairs on the sweet spot. He was exactly where I thought he would be. At that instant things happened fast. I first went "mahhhh" to make him pause. When he glanced my direction, I checked his rack to make sure it was wider than his ears. ("Yes, a shooter!") Double checking the crosshairs I fired with my last thought being, "I'm getting this one mounted". (I know, kind of getting the cart before the horse there but that's what happened. Funny how you remember things like that.)

  The buck didn't show much reaction to the shot. He slowly trotted down the field away from me. I saw that his tail was down and not moving fast so I knew I had hit him hard. He then turned to his left cutting back across the field and I thought "I'm going to have to shoot the son-of-a-$%^&# again.

  Putting the cross hairs on him I could see the exit wound and knew he was hit hard. He then stopped, kind of wobbled and fell over. He kicked a few times and I watched his chest raise and fall a couple of times and then stillness.

  "YES!" I was overcome with emotion! After many years and a lot of long hours I finally had a trophy. Now don't get the wrong impression here. I'm not a trophy hunter, I'm a meat hunter but everyone who pursues deer always wants to get a nice buck once in a while and it looked as though my time had finally come.

  After pumping my fist in the air a few times and saying a quick thank you prayer my thoughts turned to my dad. I could only imagine the joy he would have felt at seeing me finally get a hanger. Then it hit me, he did see it. He was there with me, patting me on the back and shaking my hand saying "great job!" Wiping the tears from my eyes my thoughts went back to my buck laying in the field.

  Since it was still early on opening day and still having a doe tag to fill I elected to stay put for a while. It was cold that morning and the deer was laying in the shade and he wasn't gut shot, so I had no worries on letting him lay for a while. "Wouldn't it be something if I got a doe this morning too" I said to whoever was listening. Making sure I had loaded another shell I dug into my pack for a quick snack.

  The cereal bar disappeared in two bites and the juice box went down in a couple of swallows. Looking at my watch only ten minutes had passed. "That's enough. I gotta go check this big boy out."

  Walking the sixty yards to him, I approached cautiously ready to plug him again in the event he tried to get up. About fifty feet from him the musky smell hit me. He was definitely in rut. Reaching out with the barrel of my Remington, I poked him around his right eye. No flinch or kick. He was out. I quickly set my gun down and grabbed his rack. A perfect eight point rack. Even and symmetrical on both sides. He was a beauty.

  The wetness on his head between his rack and the thoroughly soaked insides of his rear legs not to mention his swollen neck confirmed he was out chasing "tail". I drug him across the field to a shading spot and started to field dress him. Just as I got one of my gloves on I heard Kenny shoot from across the road and up the hollow. "Cool. Hope he got one."

  I finished up the job by propping him open with some sticks so he would cool down and headed back to the blind. It was ten minutes after eight when I sat back down. All the action had taken less than an hour. Unbelievable.

  We had decided to get together at noon for lunch and the next three hours dragged by. Finally at eleven I had enough. I needed to share my good fortune with the guys. I headed across the road to find Kenny.

  When I found him was out of his stand with the same thoughts as me, gotta share a story. I waited until he was closer to the fence before I asked if he had got one. His smile on his face had already given it away. He had got a huge doe. I listened to his story all the while trying to hide the joy I had inside.

  He finished his story and asked if I had gotten one. "Yes I did. I shot a cull buck, a management kill. He's got a funny rack. Four on one side and four on the other."

  He looked at me puzzled and then it hit him. "You got an eight pointer?" "I should did and he's a keeper".

  After some congratulations on both sides we dragged his deer out to the road. It was all both of us could do to toss the fat doe over the fence and drag her across the ditch. She was a great kill and would yield lots of meat.

  I took off after the truck and trailer while he waited patiently.

  After loading his deer we headed down the road a bit and into the "killing field" for my mine.

  "What great deer!" Kenny said when we pulled in up next to the buck. I said thanks and then we congratulated me some more. "Stop it. You're embarrassing me."

  The boys were equally impressed. I gave them the same line I had given Kenny about the funny rack and it was again met with puzzled looks.

  It had been a good morning all around. Josh had taken a doe early that morning also. Only Tim was deer less but he had seen several. We assured him he would get his chance. After all it was only opening day.

  He got his chance late that afternoon. With time running out he got a nice little 4 point forkhorn. Ordinarily we try not to shoot small bucks but this was Tim's first deer hunt and we always had the rule that a persons first deer was whatever they wanted to shoot. Not a bad start.

  We arrived back at "camp", which is my sister's house with a trailer full of deer. Our smiles got even bigger when Tommy let out the news that he too had gotten a deer that morning. A big bodied buck with a six point rack. It took us a little while to count up all the little points but they equaled six. Nice management kill. He definitely needed to come out of the herd. As as we always say, "the grinder doesn't descriminate".

  This was the first time that everyone had gotten a deer on opening day. Five for five. Unbelievable! We were truly blessed.

  The rest of the weekend only saw Tim getting a button buck on Saturday, again with time running out. He was remorseful, as I had been the previous month when I had shot a button buck in Oklahoma. I told him the same things my friend David had said to me and smoothed it over. Things like that happen.

  With the monkey finally off my back could this be the final chapter in my series of unfortunate hunts? Don't bet on it. The second half of the Illinois firearm season is the first weekend of December with our muzzleloader season the weekend after so there will be plenty of opportunities for things to go from good to bad. And then, there's always next year. Until next time - Jim Bob.