Author Archives: Gary Sanderson

A South Deerfield, Mass., native, Gary was the longtime sports editor at the Greenfield Recorder, a daily newspaper in Greenfield, Mass., where he retired in June 2018, having worked parts of five decades over 39 years. A senior-active, nearly 40-year member of the New England Outdoor Writers Association and the Outdoor Writers Association of America, his Thursday column "On The Trail" ran for nearly 40 years, ostensibly focusing on fish and wildlife, conservation and issues pertaining to them in the Connecticut Valley, where his roots reach deep into its oldest burial grounds. He and wife Joanne live in a historic Greenfield Meadows tavern today known as Old Tavern Farm, which has a rich history dating back to the mid-18th century. The home, which became a National-Register-of-Historic-Places building on his watch, served as a small, seasonal bed and breakfast from 1999-2015. Gary's other interests include history, anthropology, archaeology, literature, genealogy, Americana, country auctions, and early-American architecture and landscapes, as well as hunting, fishing and especially reading. His primary focus is the Pioneer Valley, its people, places and critters.

Shelburne Wolf

Thursday, March 06, 2008 It should come as no shock that the ”apparent” wolf shot in Shelburne last fall was confirmed by DNA analysis to be a wild Eastern gray or timber wolf, the likes of which has reportedly been seen many times in recent years but not killed here in Franklin County for more […]

Hunting Grey Ghosts

I got my first taste of bird hunting on the lower west slope of North Sugarloaf in South Deerfield, along a power line where we roamed as kids and flushed many “patridge.” The flushes surprised us as made our many ascensions up the west face of the mountain to the Indian cave hollowed out of […]

Forgotten Fish Weir

As we cross a large, local, free-flowing stream such as the Deerfield River and look down toward the water on a pleasant spring day, we are apt to notice a stationary angler wading to his waist and performing any number of tasks. Perhaps he’s tying a tippet to a leader, or a fly to a […]

Cocks Only

The upland bird hunting season opened Saturday and shotgun reports could be heard throughout the valley on a bright, crisp, colorful autumn day. For what it’s worth, personal observation points to a down year for ruffed grouse. That early assessment is subject to change as the young season progresses, but after brief fruitless visits to […]

Rabid Bobcat

State Deer Project Leader Bill Woytek had an interesting take on the rabid bobcat that went on a rampage through the Greenfield Meadows last month on a sultry Saturday afternoon before being killed by law-enforcement officials. “I guess it has something to say about the many mountain lion sightings reported over the years,” he said. […]

The Last Day

A soft cool breeze tickled my right eardrum, caressed the tip of my nose and carried my scent in a northeasterly direction, toward the small stream exiting a massive beaver pond a hundred or more yards north. The clock was the sunset shadow creeping up the eastern ridge before me. I knew that once the […]

Fishing Fantasy

My mind started wandering on a fog-drenched Wednesday morning as my truck meandered home through the Greenfield Meadows, and for some reason it brought me back to my old footloose days, when I’d head for a hilltown stream on similar damp, grey days. Back then, there was always a round, galvanized, two-handled washtub full of […]

Big B

Must be that I’m getting old, because it seems that the characters from my South Deerfield roots are dropping like flies these days. Pint Szelewicki, Henry Boron, George Gromacki, Billy and Leo Rotkiewicz, Paul Whalen, Mike Rura, Paul Giorgioli, all the downtown fixtures gone but not forgotten by those of us who patrolled the four […]

Young Buck?

The crescent moon cast a vertical smile over the southwest corner of a little hayfield where a doe and her fawn had been showing up often on summer eves. I had seen them many times in my nightly travels, consistently entering the field around dusk, behind the cover of a razor-thin hardwood stand some 30 […]

Meandering

You never know where an ancient road through reclaimed hilltown forest will lead you, which is one of many reasons I enjoy traipsing through the Franklin hills of my ancestors, be it hunting or just poking around. Lately I’ve been doing a lot of the latter, chewing into acorns and beechnuts along the way to […]

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