With heavy heart, I reflected on this season’s elk hunts. In Forks, Wash., the vampires and werewolves outnumbered ungulates. East of Remote, Ore., we found a 6×5 bull that reached room temperature before we got there. And on Sunday last, my Fossil Unit antlerless tag expired without an animal to tie it to.

We hunted the best elk country in the state, but the elk that passed through the ranch didn’t stay long.

We were an observant group. Four of us passed along a trail one day and on the next we walked the same path. Daughter Jennifer looked down to see a tine lifted out of the snow. We had stepped on it the first day. She pulled a five-point antler out of the white stuff.

Back in town, I went to the ODFW office seeking wisdom. The ladies that greet the public are a fount of knowledge. A couple of years ago they began to keep a list of the things people ask in a big red book.

Some Oregonians have trouble with the concept of boundaries. Citizen: “How much is a fishing license in Central Oregon?” ODFW: “Are you a resident or a nonresident?” Citizen: “I’m a nonresident, I live in Portland.”

It’s hard to argue with that logic.

A local asked, “I live in Bend and want to fish only in Bend. Do I need a fishing license?” Another thrifty resident asked, “How much does Free Fishing Day cost?”

Another queried, “Are the fish spawning at Wikipedia Reservoir?”

Try Google.

You have to wonder at the intellect of our fellow travelers. “My doctor prescribed a fishing license to me. What can I do with that?”

Well, it makes a great bookmark.

Would-be hunters are just as likely to get their questions entered in the book. Like this one: “Do you need a hunting license to hunt with a bow?” Or, “If I want to go bowfishing, do I need a hunting AND a fishing license?”

Better to be on the safe side and go on Free Fishing Day.

One hunter was filling out the Emergency Hunt Application when he stopped and looked up: “So it says, ‘list one county only’, does that mean I can only list one?”

Another hunter asked, “Do I need to carry water with me while I’m hunting in the Northside Unit?”

Only if you’re thirsty.

“Can you tell me where my property is so I can apply for a hunt?”

Where do you want your property to be?

A woman called on her husband’s behalf. “I want to buy a tag for that spike hunt by Bend and John Day. The one by that small town with the diner.”

Ah yes, the diner. That narrows it down.

Another said, “I would like to hunt buck bull in eastern Oregon. Do I need an elk tag too?” Yet another, “I would like a deer tag. That’s valid for both deer and elk, right?”

Did anyone think to get a license plate number?

“My hunt starts next week and I need hunter safety.”

So do I, now that you mention it.

Some questions are rhetorical. “Why do I have to get my disabilities permit recertified? My feet aren’t going to grow back on.”

He’s got a point.

Some of the best questions come from wildlife watchers. “Do you come out and help deer when they’re having trouble giving birth? I think this one is breeched.”

“We’ve been feeding the baby raccoons and the mom. When they get bigger will you come get them?”

Another asked, “Can I feed cat food to the deer?”

No, but it works for raccoons.

You must zay zis one with a French accent: “Don’t you have a biologist who can move all the little mar-mots? They are getting squeeshed.”

Another caller said, “I have a five-foot gopher snake in my front yard. Would you like it?”

No, but we know where you can find some marmots.

“Can you please come rescue the jackrabbit that our cats were chasing last night?”

Whose cats did you say they were again?

One citizen called to report a bear sighting between Crane Prairie Reservoir and Wallowa Lake, a distance of roughly 200 miles. ODFW: “Was it being aggressive?” Citizen: “No, but it was alarming.” ODFW: “So it was just in the woods doing what bears do?” Citizen: “Yes, and it was alarming.”

Alarmed could describe the Bend resident that called in this report on Tax Day. “There is a wallaby running around in our residential neighborhood. He was five feet away from me.”

Another crackpot. They got a good laugh at that one in the office. They had a better laugh the next day when The Bulletin ran the account of Ozzy the Wallaby who had hopped away from his owner on a Friday night.

A favorite was the lady who called the office one February. “When is duck season?” she asked. “It starts around the middle of October and ends in January,” was the answer. “I thought so,” she said. “My son-in-law said he was going duck hunting in Winnemucca and he forgot to take his shotgun.”

Ah yes, the old Winnemucca ploy. Can’t fool the mother-in-law.

I still don’t have the answers about where our elk hunts went wrong, but it’s somehow comforting to have a lot more questions.