In The Public Domain-Allegheny River

In The Public Domain

Allegheny River

By Rob Hilliard

So you say you enjoy a little scenery with your hunting. How about bald eagles drifting on the breeze as it rolls down mountain peaks?

Or maybe the scenery you’re interested in looks a little more like Canada geese rising off the frigid river among crystalline ice patterns.

You say you like it a little wild? Perhaps you’d like a front row seat as a persistent bald eagle swoops down and tries to pluck a goose off the water. Maybe you’d like a river hunt that includes not only waterfowl, but also deer, turkeys, and pheasants. Is pheasant hunting on a river wild enough for you?

If so, then pack up your gear and head north to the upper reaches of the Wild and Scenic Allegheny River. In 1992, 86.6 miles of the Allegheny River between the Kinzua Dam and the town of Emlenton were designated as a National Wild and Scenic River.

And, while there are good hunting opportunities along this entire reach, the 37 miles that form the northern and western border of the Allegheny National Forest are exceptional.

One major factor that makes this reach so outstanding is the chain of islands that lies like jewels on a necklace along this section of the river. While some of these are barely more than gravel bars, many stretch for a mile or more and are large enough to support mature trees.

In fact, seven of these larger islands -- totaling 370 acres -- make up the Allegheny Islands Wilderness, the smallest designated Wilderness Area in the entire U.S. Forest Service system.

The combination of the steep mountain slopes reaching down to the river’s edge, the land area and backwaters created by the island chain, and the relatively shallow, slow-running nature of the river in this section create hunting opportunities that are not found any where else in the Ohio Valley.

Hunting this section of river is limited only by your sense of adventure and your imagination.

For example, there are a couple of ways to hunt deer on the river, both of which have been proven successful (I’m deliberately excluding land-based deer hunting on the mountains that flank the river, but there is no shortage of good opportunities there either. Hunting the ridges outside of little river towns like Irvine, West Hickory, Tidioute, and Tionesta has been an established formula for thousands of hunters for decades.).

The first of these methods is to slip a canoe into the Allegheny and float quietly downriver near the bank. Often deer driven by heavy hunting pressure on the surrounding ridges will hunker down near the water’s edge to let the storm pass, especially along the abandoned railroad line on the western shore.

In these cases, a stealthy hunter in a quiet canoe can sometimes get in close to deer that don’t suspect an amphibious assault.

One note of caution on this approach: Pennsylvania Game Commission Wildlife Conservation Officer Don Dougherty warns that there are a large number of hunting camps and permanent homes near the water’s edge and not all of them are visible from the river. Be very aware of where you are on the water and where the limits of safety zones begin and end.

The other proven method of deer hunting on the upper Allegheny is paddling a group of hunters out to the islands and putting on drives from one end to the other. This is especially popular during the late muzzleloader season, when many deer have fled the mainland due to pressure in the earlier seasons.

The larger islands have plenty of food and cover to sustain a small group of deer for weeks at a time and if the backwaters freeze over, they can come and go as they please.

Safety is once again a key concern with this approach. The shallow water freezes over fairly easily, and even a thin layer of ice near shore -- not to mention large rocks hidden below the water surface -- can make navigating a canoe burdened with a couple of hunters and their gear a rather more exhilarating experience than intended. To be certain, a mid-winter dip in the Allegheny, weighed down by soaked hunting clothes, can be a free pass to an early funeral.

Sometimes, though, the surprises can be of the more pleasant variety. Local hunter John Mack says during last year’s late muzzleloader season, he and his group of muzzleloader hunters came across bird tracks in snow on Crulls Island, the northernmost of the Wilderness Islands.

Since they were tucked under grape vine tangles and among dense brush, Mack first assumed they were grouse tracks -- until the first ringneck flushed. As they drove the island for deer, pheasant after pheasant took to the air.

Mack, who happens to be the president of the Warren County Chapter of Pheasants Forever, surmises that the birds were refugees from a nearby area known as the Beanfield. This location, the site of recent habitat work by the PF chapter, is heavily stocked with pheasants by the PGC and borders the western bank of the Allegheny River.

“I guess when people shot at them and missed, they just kept on flying out to the island,” says Mack with a shrug. “Even though it’s not at all like typical pheasant habitat out there [on the island], they found a place where nobody would bother them.”

Needless to say, Mack is planning a return trip to Crulls Island this year, only this time he’ll be carrying a shotgun.

Speaking of carrying a shotgun to an island, that’s more or less the description of my fall turkey hunting this past season. I was hunting with Dan Brophy of Franklin, Pa., out of his camp just downriver from West Hickory.

Dan assured me that the area around his riverfront camp was “loaded with turkeys,” and he had the trophy gobbler that he bagged the week before -- not to mention the ones bagged by his father, Ed Sr., and two other guys hunting out of Camp Brophy -- to point to as proof.

So the last day of fall turkey season found Dan and I paddling out to Kings Island, another of the Allegheny Wilderness Islands, to search for turkeys. The pattern of the turkeys in the area, according to Dan, was fairly straightforward.

In the mornings, they would fly down from their roosts on the mountain to feed on the island. In the evening, they would fly back across to the mainland, then feed their way back up the ridge to roost.

Having failed to intercept them on the way to roost the previous afternoon, we were now hoping to surprise them feeding on Kings Island.

Unfortunately, though, the turkeys had other ideas. As we walked the brushy strip of land from north to south, we found lots of turkey scratchings and droppings, but no birds at all.

Somehow they managed to pick that very day to reverse the pattern they had held for months, just in time to deprive me of an opportunity to bag one.

To make up for my disappointment over turkey season, Dan offered to take me for another river run after Christmas. This time it would be a little more traditional river fare: waterfowl.

We set up goose and duck decoys near the mouth of Hickory Creek. Given the 15 degree temperature and the thick layer of ice along the bank, it took us a little longer than we wanted to get set up and, as a result, we missed chances at two flocks of geese and a couple of ducks as they winged upriver.

Luckily, once we were set up the action stayed hot and heavy. Within the first 10 minutes I missed an easy straight on shot at a bufflehead and before I had a chance to mope Dan and I both opened up on a pair of mergansers flying upriver.

Like many of our shots that day, these were long ones, 40 yards at least, and we both missed. Dan explained that wary birds are a fact of life when hunting the late season on the Allegheny, where there’s no shortage of hunting pressure.

Within minutes we had another chance and this time I let the expert handle the chore. Dan nailed a black duck as it came into the spread, and his nine-month old black Lab Cassie crashed through the ice and into the frigid water to bring it home.

Over the next hour or so, we blasted at more ducks, mostly mergansers, without success. When the action finally slowed a little, we decided to grab the jonboat and go searching for the geese we had seen earlier.

After driving a couple of miles upriver, we put in above West Hickory and started our float. Within minutes, a flock of 50 or more geese launched themselves from the east bank of the river as Dan and I blazed away.

Both of us thought we had taken good shots, but the distance was just too far and no geese fell. On the bright side, though, the geese flew downriver, so we figured that we would get another crack.

Soon enough, we did. As we floated slowly down the icy river, our attention was drawn to a commotion along the western bank. There, to our amazement, we saw a bald eagle attacking a full-grown Canada goose in the water.

The eagle repeatedly swooped down from an overhead tree branch and sank its talons into the goose, but it wasn’t quite able to pull it free of the water.

Assuming that the goose must have been wounded by our fusillade upriver, we decided to paddle over to recover it. However, before we could accomplish this, a bufflehead flying directly overhead caused us to divert our attention and empty our guns once again.

By the time we returned our gaze toward the river bank (we missed the stupid duck), the goose was gone.

As we rowed along, scanning the waterline for the missing bird, Dan spotted another small flock of geese on the shore ahead of us. We crouched as low as possible to the gunwales of the jonboat and allowed it to drift silently toward the birds.

As we furiously whispered instructions to each other and waited for the geese to make their move, a duck suddenly bobbed to the surface between our boat and the geese. Dan and I glanced at each other, once again surprised by the unexpected turn of events.

Then, chaos erupted.

The little bird, a fulvous tree duck, suddenly realized its precarious position and started churning for the sky. I fired and splashed it back into the river, which immediately set off the geese. As they erupted off the water, Dan knocked one back down and it flapped to the bank.

With two birds down, Cassie was only too happy to get over the side of the boat. She returned the duck to me, but as we struggled to get her back into the boat the wounded goose began walking away, forcing me to shoot it again.

This shot finished it, but with its final effort it managed to fall back into the water.

Eventually, the bird drifted out of the main current and we pulled close enough for me to snatch it aboard. Dan and I exchanged high fives and then, with both of us wet, freezing, and tired, Dan picked up the oars and rowed us downriver toward his camp.

I took a moment to consider the double Dan and I had just scored. A fulvous tree duck and a Canada goose seemed a pretty wild pair to take together on a late season hunt.

I also basked for a minute in the scene around me: Cassie’s black coat contrasted against the silver hull of the boat, the stark black-and-white of the goose’s head, the tiny grayish-brown body of the tree duck with its paddle-shaped bill.

Wild and Scenic Allegheny River indeed.

With each issue of OVO this year, you can check out “In the Public Domain” to read where I’ve been hunting, what I’ve been seeing, and what new discoveries I’ve made while working on my first book, “A Season on the Allegheny.”

The book will look at hunting opportunities within the Allegheny National Forest, and how those opportunities are affected by the history, conservation, and management of the forest. I hope you enjoy the sneak preview.