PRÓIS HUNTING AND FIELD APPAREL PARTNERS WITH CAMP WILD GIRLS TO LAUNCH EXCITING NEW HOME HUNTING PARTY PROGRAM

Command Sergeant Major Turkey Wrestler

Command Sergeant Major Turkey Wrestler by Irene Pawlisch

After three days of hunting, I leave Kansas humbled by the weather and proud we were the first hunters to not quit on our guide, Don Wright.  My husband, Tom and I met Kirk Cherry, Chief Executive Officer for Tallgrass Outdoor Adventures, LLC, and Don December 26, 2009, the day after a blizzard, to hunt Rio turkey.  After discussing the hunt plan our conversations drifted towards Fort Riley.  It was an impressive sight to see all the helicopters and Big Red One out front as we drove past.  That was when we learned Don was on a few days leave from his duties of Command Sergeant Major to be our guide.  Don is a proud member of the Big Red One and has completed many tours, including Iraq.  Don’s wife has also done tours in Iraq and Kirk’s wife was a helicopter pilot for the army.  Having a deep respect for the military this was a treat to speak openly with these men.

Kirk then mentions in these bad conditions Don was the best man to be our guide.  Thanks to a former hunter, “Git yur gun-Git yur gun” Gus, Don earned the title of turkey wrestler after a 100 yard up, down, all around  dash after a wounded bird, that ended in knock the wind out of him tackle.  As Don lay there gasping for breath binoculars imprinted in his chest with a turkey staring at him eye to eye he earned the nickname of the turkey wrestler.  If there was a wounded bird Don would not stop until it was under him Kirk joked at Don’s expense.

The next morning we hiked the ranch in hopes of cutting tracks.  Anytime we would finish trudging over a section of Kansas wind blown drifts Don would always turn around with two fingers held high and a big ol’ grin on his face, “Only two more miles.”   It was his standard response to tired men when completing drills.  Occasionally, Don would say, “Let’s take a knee,”- to rest, catch our breath, or to stop sweating in the cold.  Two days into the hunt Kirk admits he was a little nervous that Don might work us into the ground like he does his men.  It wasn’t uncommon for hunters to quit on Don, too tired to move on.

The blizzard had changed all turkey habits leaving us to do a great deal of glassing on foot and by vehicle to locate birds.  As we drove around I sat in the back seat of the “zebra” H2 Hummer listening to Don tell stories about his men and his role in the army as he answered our many questions.  I could feel his chest swell with pride in the emotion of his words.  Once in awhile a member of his family would call to get updates on our hunt.  Every conversation ended with kisses and him saying I love you with utmost sincerity.  In the context of knowing the amount of time they had spent apart from each other serving our country I realized how much of a luxury it was for him to say, “I love you,” and how important it was to end every conversation with these words, no matter how often they spoke.

Thanks to generosity of a Kansas farmer, Mr. Chaffee we were given enthusiastic permission to remove a couple turkeys from his bean field.  Belly crawling the last 10 yards behind a clump of dirt we laid there prone for 70 minutes waiting for something to happen.  At one point Tom turned to me whispering, “When Don says go, jump up and start shooting.”  I just rolled me eyes.  I was frozen stiff with my arms extended with muscles well past fatigue from trying to keep my muzzle out of the snow. I didn’t know if I could lift my barrel off the ground high enough to shoot a bird let alone jump up.  When we were back at the lodge that evening I asked Don about this plan.  He exclaimed, “I was pulling his leg!  Good thing I didn’t say go.”  We all had a good laugh.

Thankfully, we didn’t jump up.  I lay there with my hair working it’s way out of my hat into my eyes until a group of hens were about to bust us.  Tom pulled the trigger first, scattering shot at the confused hen’s feet.  We both had to roll over to pump our guns back into action with much struggle.  Don took off after the birds herding them back to us.  I can only imagine he had experience taking off like that in Iraq because I never saw him go.  As a group flew back over our heads I harvested a Rio Eastern hybrid hen in a poof of feathers.  We joked with Don that he should add occasional turkey herder to his guide resume.

Next day, we asked permission to sneak across another area to the same bean field to avoid many snow drifts.  We got out to the field a little late after listening to Mr. Sherbert recount his entire gun deer season to us, a true country character in his own right.  Two –thirds the way to the field three hens spooked across the way and flew directly into the spot we had intended to wait the incoming flock.  Now we had to quickly come up with plan B.  We sat down in a large snow covered brush pile.  Within minutes turkeys were entering the field, gradually scratched all around us, but never came in shot range.

There we sat perfectly still for 2 hours and 15 minutes.  When we finally got a chance to belly crawl out Don had been shivering uncontrolled for a good hour.  We were all cold but Don was the coldest.  It was all he could do to talk as his jaw chattered.  He wanted us to sneak up on some snow covered brush where the turkeys last passed.

When we arrived at the drift Don did a quick peek and scurried back to us.  Wide eyed he gave the orders, “get up there, jump up, and start shooting.  Not joking!”  The wind had worked in our favor covering the sounds of our footsteps across the crunchy frozen snow.  He wasn’t kidding they were feet from us on the other side.  There was no time to find a good beard in the bunch before they began to scatter.  We had all endured the torture of feeling a stick up our rear too long to not harvest a bird from this panicked flock.  Tom connected with a hen and rolled her.  Don was halfway around the brush to recover her before we had our guns down.

We continued to storm the hillside behind.  We were motivated.  I was sent to the left and Tom went to the right with Don.  The turkeys were at the bottom on the right too far for a good shot.  Just then a couple birds flushed next to Tom.  He shot; a bird hung in a hover, glided a moment, and then dropped from the sky.  Don was after it instantly.  Fortunately, the Jake wasn’t as dead as he had thought.  Once again highly trained Command Sergeant Major got to use his turkey wrestling skills to put a life ending choke hold on the flapping winged beast.  By the time Tom had rounded me up and got back to Don he was sprawled out sitting down against an old stone barn foundation with a bird on either side looking mighty exhausted.  As he said many times since we arrived, “this is the hardest I have ever worked for a turkey!”

We continued to drive, glass, and sneak on birds but never crossed another turkey.  We got to know Don well in those three days riding in his “zebra” pushing him to his limits of frustration trying to find a trophy Rio in the snow.  The love Don expressed for those that serve beside him in the military, his family, and hunting were seamless in all of his conversations.  How much of it was real or just talk, it didn’t matter.  It was all good to me.

The sincere generosity and hospitality of both Don and Kirk were exceptional.  They made a hard hunt enjoyable.  The military stories of sacrifice and the manner of pride in which they were told spoke greatly of the character of these men.  Mostly, I left Kansas filled with a love of family, country, and hunting experienced in the shadows of Fort Riley.

Stedi-Stock

Stedi-Stock®

I was lucky enough to be able to borrow one of these handy little devices on my elk hunting trip to Utah. It was lightweight and packed easily into my luggage (although you need to leave it on the top so they can examine it since it looks like a rifle stock in the X-ray machine!) lol. It is one slick device!

We used it while just holding the video camera in the truck, freehand and we also used it on our scouting walks, along with the monopod. It was amazing how much difference it made while filming. Especially when you are not acclimated yet and you are huffing and puffing while trying to film!

This Super Tough Hi-Strength Nylon device weighs a mere 6 ounces and is easily removed from the monopod to change over to the rifle rest in the blink of an eye.

The Stedi-Stock® is a Camera Brace, Camera Stabilizer, Camera Shoulder Stock, Camera Shoulder Mount, Camcorder Brace, Camcorder Stabilizer, Camcorder Shoulder Brace, Camcorder Stock, Camcorder Shoulder Mount, Spotting Scope Brace, Spotting Scope Shoulder Brace, Spotting Scope Stabilizer, Spotting Scope Shoulder Mount and Spotting Scope Stock. Stedi-Stock® retails for just 29.95 and is a fantastic addition for anyone that uses any kind of camera or scope! We will be adding this little number to our Camp Store very soon!

Just Scraps!

Just Scraps- By Irene Pawlisch

As I begin to assemble my scraps of paper my focus is, “how can I best tell the story behind the photos.”  To remember the story again when I have long forgotten, is most important to me.  You see, for a short time in my life, I worked for elderly with memory disorders.  They would have pictures in their nursing home rooms of people and places they could not tell me about.  It always made me a little sad.  Then I would reflect on my own life and realize I am forgetting so much of my own already.   This is why I take the time to scrapbook my hunting memories.

The first year my extended family didn’t get why I was saving feathers or taking “scenic” photos.  But as the years have past and the book has thickened they appreciate the reminders of forgotten bits from season’s past.  Coming up with new page layouts and designs are now my greatest challenge.  Stores have limited stickers and papers related to hunting.  I am old fashioned.  I still just use straight scissors, paper, and markers.  For me “fancy” is adding a ribbon.  The only thing I use that plugs in is my computer for journaling.  Here are some suggestions I would offer to anyone just starting out on their own scrapbook adventure.

*Don’t be afraid to make your own patterns out of paper.  Animal tracks can be traced or copied.  An exacto knife and a self healing board make this much easier.

* To shade use a small foam paint brush rubbed on a brush marker or ink pad.  Use one brush for reds and one brush for blues.  I have had the same marker set for 10 years.

*A straight edge cutter to crop photos and paper is a huge time saver.  If they aren’t all perfectly square, that is called handmade character.

*Earth tone papers are a staple.  Stores are starting to come out with nice hunting papers but many are still cartoonish with colors that don’t compliment the photo.

*Take photos of your view, the stand, anything that catches your eye.  Take close-ups or shots from odd angles.  Take unposed pictures to capture mood or a rapid series of photos to capture motion.  Study scrapbook and hunting magazines to get ideas for photo angles.

*Take a baggie along to save a few clean feathers.

*Make notes about your day as soon as possible to remember the details when you sit down later to journal on your page or computer.

*Save tags, tickets, etc. that are a part of the hunting story.  These become your “embellishments.”

*Make it personal.  Share your feelings or message to someone, like your child.  A child can never hear or read how proud you are of them too often.

*Don’t think you have to do all the scrapbook stuff (paint, stamp, spray, brad, sew).

*I dread looking at my first year pages.  You can always redo it in a year if you really dislike the layout but then again….

We all become better hunters the more we take to the outdoors.  It is the same with scrapbooking.  With each page you will become more confident in your abilities.

Kids go Shed Hunting!

With spring weather upon us and the recent snow melt these boys had a very successful shed hunt. What a great way to get kids involved in the outdoors in the late winter when there is nothing much to do.

I had talked to their dad earlier in the week and he told me they had Friday off of school and were  looking for sheds. They stopped by in the late afternoon, on Friday to fill me in on the exciting stories about each shed they found. Some where under the apple trees, others along fence lines or roadsides where the bucks had jumped to cross. With each story there was oodles of enthusiasm.  They took what started out to be a rainy drizzly winter day and turned it into a memory of a lifetime!

Kudos to Brett for getting not only his kids out but their friend also!

New twist-”Shed” Hunting Contest!

Can’t get out of the house to go shed hunting? We are putting a new twist on “Shed Hunting”.  Each day you can try and locate our “Shed” .  (It is not the one on the front in the Sharp-Hill advertisement or the one in this post!).  It is somewhere within our site and will change daily. Send us an e-mail to shedhunt@campwildgirls.com with your name, date and location of the shed for that day and your name will be placed in the drawing for a monthly prize. You can enter once a day with the correct location of the shed.  The March prize is a choice between either of the “Camo is the new Pink” shirts or the “Camp Counselor” t-shirt. Our great friends at Stedi Stock (Awesome product!) have also donated one of their Stedi Stocks for a second drawing! Happy Hunting!

Check Out Camp Wild Girls’ New Logo Wear!

Check out all the new additions to our Camp Store!

Our March “Woman of the Wild”-Stacey Huston from “A Focus in the Wild”

By Stacey Huston from “A Focus in the Wild”

I grew up in the mountains of North West Montana. I was raised immersed in the outdoors.. So I spent a lot of time as a young girl watching and learning about wildlife. My parents raised me with a deep respect for the natural world.
I married young, a man who shares that passion for the outdoors, and together we have tried to foster in our children that same love for all things natural.
I was raised on wild game. My mother as well as my father was a hunter, . She enjoyed spending time in the outdoors and I am very grateful that they never hesitated to take us kids along.

When I was asked to be this months “Woman of the Wild” I thought back and tried to remember, when was the first time my parents took me hunting? I honestly can’t recall. For us, it was a different time, my parents hunted out of necessity to feed their family, not for sport, It was a way of life, like gathering the eggs and making sure the chickens were fed each morning. We were taught at a young age how to clean, and butcher anything that was harvested, rabbits, grouse, deer or elk.
I don’t remember the first fish I ever caught. I recall learning were to search for earth worms, how to bait my own hooks and how to clean and cook a fish. I remember learning to track animals, and tell by the bark and needles what trees were in the area.. How to tell what way is north, and how to find your way home if you ever got lost in the woods..
My family still eats primarily wild game. We hunt for meat, in a time when most people care more about the size of the antlers that they can hang on their wall, we still hunt for food.

I can’t really remember a time in my life when I was not learning something about nature, weather it was sitting on the shore line with my parents watching a family of beaver interact on a high mountain lake, or fully camouflaged, on an alpine ridge in September archery season, talking to the magnificent bull elk, flying a hawk after bunnies along the Absaroka Range or just taking photos of our children while we hunt for rabbits with self bows and home made arrows.

I am a licensed falconer and volunteer as a sub-permittee for a local bird rehab center. I have been flying birds of prey and hunting small game with them, off and on for over 10 years now and am in the process of applying for an education permit so that I can take birds of prey to schools and groups for educational seminars.

We live a simple life, and in this world of technology it is the simple, natural things that are the most important..