Turtle Talk

From the Leelanau Enterprise:

Hank Bailey wanted to become the first member of the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians to kill a bull elk with a muzzle loader.HANK BAILEY: with the elk he shot.

He figures Michigan’s elk herd had been mostly devastated before his ancestors started hunting with firearms. After the herd was re-established by state biologists early last century, hunts were strictly regulated and the odds of receiving a tag were slight.

Bailey’s goal could only be reached after years of struggle to assert Indian rights to hunt and fish had been won.

And then his personal challenge began.
“I knew it was not going to be an easy task,” said Bailey.

His hunt ended Friday, January 16 after a shot from his .50 caliber Remington lodged deep into a running 8 x 7 bull that record keepers estimate may end up being the second largest taken by a muzzle loader in state history. He dropped the animal, estimated to weigh 650-700 pounds, from 100 yards.

Though the elk is truly a trophy, when relating the story Bailey devotes most of his time talking about friends old and new who helped him through the process. Through the story-telling, a second theme emerges, that of a long struggle for rights that cannot be won on paper or through a judge’s ruling.

Civil rights have to be bestowed by people. In a small farming community north of Hillman, Bailey found people who opened their hearts — and their property — to him and his quest.

“Those farmers over there were so wonderful,” said Bailey. “You talk about nice people. They were very, very good to us.”

The hunt had to line up perfectly to end in such a perfect outcome. Of course, the consent decree reached by five Indian tribes and the state of Michigan started the process. The tribes were allowed 10 percent of tags DNR biologists determined would be needed each year to keep the elk herd under control.

Bailey didn’t expect a chance to hunt after learning his name was drawn by the GTB as an “alternate.” But the DNR determined that not enough elk were harvested in earlier hunts, and drew up rules for a late hunt Jan. 14-18. Bailey, a resource specialist with the Tribal Natural Resources Department, was behind Jane Rohl in line for the permit. Rohl is an administrative assistant in the same department. “It’s been so bitterly cold, she said she wasn’t going to hunt. But in my heart, I think that she thought she’d be good to the old guy. So it fell in my lap,” said Bailey.

He was not without connections in northeastern Michigan, home to the state elk herd. His cousin is Harry Madagame, also a GTB member and retired postmaster of Atlanta.

“He said he would take me around there and show me the area,” said Bailey. He was accompanied by his nephew, Jeremy Rice.

The hunt started last Wednesday, Jan. 14, with Madagame introducing him to farmers who might want an elk harvested from their land. Elk can decimate crops, but the DNR does not issue permits for farmers to kill them as is done for deer.

They started looking for a 6 x 6 elk, but soon learned that the farmer had not seen the bull since early fall.
But farmers know other farmers. Soon cell phones were out, other farmers were located, and one farm where an 8 x 8 bull elk was identified.

It was the Sauer farm, located north of Hillman. By now the hunt had progressed into Thursday afternoon, and Terry Sauer joined Bailey and Rice on snowshoes following a lone elk track through waist-high snow. “I’m 58-years old. I was starting to run out of gas,” said Bailey.

The group backtracked, and Bailey and Rice returned to Leelanau County in anticipation of having three days to track the elk.

Key to the hunt was Terry and Wally Sauers’ intimate knowledge of the area, and their ability to gain permission to cross property lines.

On Friday, the group took up the trail again while wondering if a muzzle loader would work under such extreme conditions. “The farmer told me it was 22 degrees below zero,” said Bailey.

They worked their way over several hours to about 3/4 mile from the nearest road, where they jumped the elk after it had circled downwind. Bailey sent Sauer and Rice around to cut him off, while making his way back to a likely escape route.

“I wasn’t there 5 or 10 minutes when I heard the brush crashing. He busted out of that swamp, and he was on a full tilt, boogie run.”
Bailey turned with him and fired.

Soon it seemed as though the entire neighborhood had gathered around the downed elk. One farmer offered to get his tractor, which didn’t start. Another soon jumped on his.

“They said, don’t you dare try to drag that out of here, let us get the tractor.” They hoisted the elk in a barn until the rafters started to crack.

The elk was so big its legs spread over the tailgate of Bailey’s. Boone and Crockett measurer Bill Bailey green scored it at 318 inches.

But Hank Bailey, who had concerns about how the consent decree would be accepted by Indians and non-Indians alike, left with more than steaks and trophy antlers. He found no resentment among those he met against his Tribal right to hunt.

“Once the lines were clear, it helped people understand,” said Bailey. “I like to say, ‘we’re just folk’. When people get to know and understand us, they see we are just folk like everybody else.”
Walley Sauer, when reached by phone Wednesday, agreed.
“He was such a sweet guy. It was very nice,” he said.

In fact, Sauer said the family soon found itself helping in any way possible to help Bailey fulfill his dream. “I was very tickled that he was a Native American. And the fact that he was using a muzzle loader, it was all special.”