You can never script this stuff. They’re wild animals, after all.

But I took it as a good sign when a week of very little deer activity transformed into a scraping, antler-cracking buck party that ended with an arrow through the chest of a nice 9-point — my biggest ever.

I hadn’t seen a single deer in three previous hunts, but you can’t kill anything sitting on the couch except a little time. My buddy Bob Houlihan and I thought something was due to change, and man did it ever.

I dropped Bob off in a ladder stand 20 yards from a scrape that opened between Wednesday and Sunday. Walking down the hedge row I saw three more scrapes of various sizes, then parked my rear in another ladder where a creek and a field edge form a point.

My buck came in about 15 minutes before dark and left with a big hole in his rib cage. About the same time, Bob saw a shooter 8-point working the big scrape, and a couple minutes later a smaller 6-point followed him into the field until they crashed antlers a couple times. The only thing standing between Bob, me and a double was some branches that I can assure you are not long for this world. Bob never had a shot, and if he cursed my trimming job he did so very quietly.

He’s a long-time rifle hunter who took advantage of Michigan’s new crossbow rules, so for him that up-close buck encounter was a first. I think he’s still buzzing about it.

So put me down for “the lull is over.” And get your butt in the woods.

Sometimes it really is better to be lucky than good, and Tom Healy proved that. Healy, fishing with guide Tim Roller of Ultimate Outfitters, was on the Manistee River Sept. 9 chasing salmon. That’s a solid month before Roller expects to see any lake-run browns in the river. And even when they’re in, browns can be spotty at best. And yet, one big tug and Healy was forever attached to a 40-pound, 7-ounce world-record brown trout.

Roller said he knew the fish was a beast when his scale bottomed out and there was still 16 inches of fish in the water. But even then he had no idea it was a world record. It’s just not something most folks think about. State records, maybe. World? Forget it. But the fish made the cut, and that set off a flurry of big fish for Michigan, and hopefully a jump in fishing-related tourism will follow. We can use it.

You can read the full story about Michigan’s big month at http://www.greatnorthernoutdoors.net/s-mifishrecords.html.

I’ve been having a long-term debate with a somewhat stubborn and possibly dim-witted friend over how to spell the nickname of the Fish of 10,000 Casts, the muskellunge. I say it’s muskie. He says it’s musky.

I’ve always felt that “musky” was a bad smell, kind of like my friend’s opinion. So lately I’ve been polling various muskie stakeholders to answer the question once and for all. Guides. Biologists. Anglers. People from Wisconsin, where there are whole towns devoted to muskies (and it’s the state fish). If you don’t believe me, go to Boulder Junction and tell me how many muskie murals and statues there are that are bigger than you.

Here is the definitive answer. Is it muskie or musky? Answer: No.

There are smart, knowledgeable people who spell it musky. There are intelligent, informed people (and me) who spell it muskie. Sometimes when you ask them, they laugh. I’m pretty certain they wonder if I’ve somehow bumped my head. But their answers are split right down the middle.

For what it’s worth, Wisconsin people seem to lean toward musky. The spelling, that is. But it’s far from unanimous. Michigan folks, on the other hand, seem to prefer muskie. But again, nothing concrete.

Maybe the better question is whether I have enough to do with my time…