Ladies Join us for a Hunt in Montana!

Ladies 3 day rifle buck hunt (Mule deer or Whitetail) with Camp Wild Girls.com and Bear Paw Outfitters in Montana, in late Oct. or early Nov. (to be announced)  We need to apply by March 15th for tags (these are guaranteed tags) and it is a high success guided hunt. We will be filming for future use on a video or show, so here’s your chance to shine!

3 day Montana Hunt for Mule Deer or Whitetail. $995.00 for the sponsored tag. Guide Fee is $2850.00 we also figured approx. $300.00 for lodging (Double occupancy) and meals.= $4145.00. I just wanted to give you an approx. price that included everything up front.

Please Contact me at hunt@campwildgirls.com a.s.a.p. if you are interested in going with us! Watch for other Camp Wild Girls hunts in the future!

Here is what Bear Paw Outfitters has to say about the hunt.

Montana Mule Deer Hunting

Mule Deer hunting in Eastern Montana is about as good as mule deer hunting can get. Montana is one of the only states with a general season rifle hunt during the mule deer rut in November. Rifle hunting for mule deer during the rut can offer you an excellent chance at bagging a trophy class mule deer. If you have never hunted mule deer during the rut, you’re missing out on an incredible deer hunt that most hunters do again and again.

Bearpaw Outfitters suggest you come and experience one of the best mule deer hunts available anywhere. Don’t miss out call today!!!

Trophy Quality

The Mule deer on our ranches sport impressive antlers with good mass, height, and great overall appearance. Mule Deer hunters usually bag mature mule deer bucks with 18″ to 28″ antlers and a few bucks taken have had extra cheater points.

Hunting Areas

We operate exclusively on private property in Central and Eastern Montana.  We currently have approximately 90,000 acres of private ranch land available to ensure quality hunting.  Our Mule Deer hunts take place near Lewistown and Forsyth, Montana.

Hunting Methods

Hunting methods often include spot & stalk hunting, glassing and spotting open hillsides and brush pockets,  or sitting and watching water holes and feeding areas.  Lots of good hunting country has good vehicle access, so we can accommodate hunters of any physical condition.

Montana Whitetail Deer Hunting

Whitetail deer hunting in Montana is the best kept deer hunting secret in the west. There are excellent numbers of whitetail bucks inhabiting Bearpaw Outfitters whitetail deer hunting ranches. What’s really impressive is how many whitetail bucks per day have been spotted while whitetail hunting on these hunting leases. Many whitetail deer hunters have seen 10 to 30 bucks in a day.

Montana’s reputation for trophy Mule Deer hunting has over shadowed it’s excellent whitetail deer hunting and most hunters are just learning about these under hunted whitetails in Montana.

Bearpaw Outfitters whitetail deer hunting leases have excellent whitetail habitat including timbered hillsides and brushy pockets for bedding and agricultural valley bottoms for excellent feeding areas.

Trophy Quality

Montana Whitetails have a reputation for getting big. Antlers on mature bucks are often 16″ to 22″ or more in width, many have good tine length, and mass.  The abundance of food produces large bodied northern bucks weighing up to 200+ pounds or more.

Shot Opportunity

Whitetails here are plentiful and bow hunting them during the dry September season over water holes and game trails leading into agricultural fields is very effective. Rifle hunting them during the November rut can also offer a prime opportunity of bagging yourself a trophy class animal. Quality whitetails are more abundant in Montana than in most states, hunters often see numerous mature bucks in a day.  Shots often range from 100 to 300 yards so sight rifles dead on at 200 yards.

Hunting Areas

We operate exclusively on private property in Central and Eastern Montana.  We currently have many thousands of acres of private ranch land leased to ensure quality hunting.

Hunting Methods

Hunting methods often include spot & stalk hunting, glassing and spotting open hillsides and brush pockets,  or sitting and watching water holes and feeding areas.  Lots of good hunting country has good vehicle access, so we can accommodate hunters of any physical condition.

For More information on the hunts or Bear Paw Outfitters check them out here!

Cara Cummings-My First Buck

November 8, 2008 my Dad and I got up at 5:00 A.M.. The day I had been waiting for, for months, was finally here. I was so excited I couldn’t even eat breakfast. One final check of my gear and we were off.

After a lot of preseason scouting we headed to a spot, on the family farm in West Haven that we thought showed a lot of promise. We went to my Dad’s favorite stand. We sat there for two hours…but only two doe showed up. I told my dad that I wasn’t going to shoot a doe the first day. I really wanted to get a buck.

I was getting hungry, so we headed home to get breakfast. Mom always cooks a big “hunter” breakfast for us. After breakfast I thought it was time for a nap. Dad thought maybe we should head out again. We went to a spot that I had been watching. We sat there for what seemed like hours but with no luck. As the afternoon went on we decided to try one final spot before calling it a day.

We hid near some round bales at the edge of a field. It was nice and quiet. As we were sitting there, four doe came out. They kept looking behind them, as if something else was there. They settled down and I thought that maybe it was just a false alarm. I was getting ready to give up. I was tired and wet. It had been raining off and on all day. I was also discouraged. Dad said “Just be patient..it is just the first day. You don’t always get a deer the first day, sometimes in the whole season will go by without getting a deer.” That just made me more discouraged.

Finally I see another deer coming out into the field. It looks like a buck, but I can’t really tell. I pull my gun up so I can look out the scope. It has horns but I can’t get a shot. The buck finally starts walking closer to where I am sitting. He has a nice set of horns. I line him up in my scope and get a shot at him. I hit him….he didn’t drop. Maybe I didn’t hit him. It was getting dark. What if I just wounded him? I was sick to my stomach.

We walked over to where we last saw him. Maybe we could find a blood trail. He ran down a steep embankment. It was getting dark and I was afraid that we would never find him. Dad started down the embankment, he was shining his flashlight right and left. He found blood and then we saw the buck.. I was so happy I started to cry.

He was at the bottom of the steep embankment. I was afraid that I would fall but I couldn’t wait to get a close up look at him. He was a 6 pointer!!! I didn’t think he was that big. Dad’s friend and his son had heard me shoot and they came to help us drag it out. That buck was beautiful!

We hung him out on a tree and the next day my friends and family come to see him. They are very proud of me. We took him and had him checked in. The biologist said he was a very nice deer. He was 2.5 years old and he weighed 126 pounds.

I am so happy with my first buck. I will never forget the day I spent with my dad and the excitement of getting my first buck!!

Aimee Pitts-My 8pt Buck

Have you ever had one of those years where you just want to give up especially when you feel like you have worked harder than everyone around you but they seem to be the ones with the success?  This is my story about my 2009 hunting season that was horrible but then better than all previous seasons and you wonder how that could possibly be.  Chris, my boyfriend/hunting partner, and I have three places where we hunt – one is in Bossier Parish near my mom’s house and is my favorite place to hunt, another is in Desoto Parish which is the closest to where I live and the other is in Natchitoches Parish about an hour drive from my house.   This year we decided to try something a little different by putting our trail cameras out early in Bossier Parish and Desoto Parish in hopes to get some pictures of bucks in velvet.  And that we did, in Desoto, we had pictures of a nice 8 point and a good 6 point which gave us high hopes long before the season started.  That wasn’t true for my favorite place because I went from having lots of deer on my camera last year to having a doe, a yearling, and more hogs than I cared to count, which was a first for this area.  Of course I wasn’t going to let some pesky hogs bring me down and keep me from hunting in that spot so I readied for opening day, clearing old and new shooting lanes.

Two weeks before the season opened we had a special youth hunt weekend and my 8 year old son, Mason, decided this summer that he wanted to start hunting with me this year so I bought him a new rifle.  Youth weekend he and I hunted the 8 point and 6 point that we had seen on camera.  We hunted all weekend long but only saw a doe with a yearling, not once but every time we were in the stand. Mason was tempted to shoot the doe but using his better judgment he decided against it since she had a baby and I was really proud of him for making that call.  Therefore, no first deer for him on youth weekend and he was ok with it.

When the season started I hunted every chance I could, every weekend going to Bossier and seeing nothing and then when I got the chance I would take off early and hunt the 8 and 6 point in Desoto since that stand was close to home.  I had made up my mind that if I saw the 6 point I would let him walk even though I had never killed a buck bigger than a 3 point – a very large bodied 3 point but nonetheless a 3 point.  I was going to save the 6 point for next year or if one of the kids were with me let them take it but I never saw the 6, the 8, or anything else and then sometime during November the gas well company came in and laid a saltwater line and really messed things up for the rest of the year.  Needless to say we were down one place to hunt but I continued to hunt hard in Bossier Parish in hopes that my luck or things there would change.  I couldn’t imagine where all the deer had gone especially since I had never shot anything off of that stand but all the deer had disappeared.  Still nothing and I was now getting very discouraged because it seemed that the harder I worked or the more I went the less I saw. But Chris, on the other hand, saw deer every time he went hunting and it seemed as though everyone I talked to had been seeing a lot of deer but not me.  My discouragement led to us making a week day afternoon trip to Natchitoches Parish.

We took off work earlier than normal and Chris and I headed to Natchitoches Parish and I was glad we made that trip because I finally saw a deer and it was a buck. Yipee!  A very small 8 point came out just before dark and hung out in my shooting lane for a good while.  He was maybe a year and half old so I just watched him, knowing that in about 2 years he would be a nice one.  I didn’t mind letting him walk because I was thankful to have seen a deer.  After seeing the little 8 point we made the decision to take off early Friday and hunt and camp there for the weekend.  When we arrived Friday afternoon we went straight to our stands I hunted the one where I saw the 8 point earlier in the week and Chris hunted what he calls long lanes.  We both hunted til dark and I saw nothing and Chris saw 3 does, I figured it wasn’t a complete loss since he saw deer and he was only hunting about 400 yards from me therefore I knew I was bound to see something that weekend.  Saturday morning Chris and I both hunted the same stands again and again I saw nothing and he saw quite a few.  That Saturday afternoon the frustration was really working on me and I asked Chris to let me hunt his stand and he could hunt mine.  You can bet I will not make that mistake again.  At 4:15 pm I hear him shoot and nearly jumped out of my skin, and immediately sent him a text to verify it was him although I knew it was and he replied “isn’t your lucky day”.  Now I was really getting frustrated – I asked him what he shot and just said “8”, my first thought was “he shot my little 8 point that I let walk” but I new better especially since he will not even shoot a doe.  He told me to stay in the stand and continue hunting the rest of the evening but I was too aggravated by now so I got down and went to see what he got.   When I saw the 8 point I couldn’t believe it, it was huge.  At that moment, I got upset and decided that he was right I just don’t have the luck and was ready to just quit all together but I’m not a quitter.  I have been told that I threw a little fit but I don’t believe it.

It took me a few days to get over being jealous and feeling sorry for myself and when I did I realized that the Thanksgiving holidays were in a few days and I would have extra time off work and more time to hunt.  The Friday after Thanksgiving I was up early not to shop like everyone else but to hunt in Bossier Parish and since my mom was out of town we had a place to camp for the weekend.  Mason wanted to hunt with us so Chris took Mason with him to give me time to focus without any distractions.  I hunted Friday evening in my favorite stand and again saw nothing until right at dark, when I looked to my left there one stood in my new lane that we extended this year.  The deer looked to have a very large body and I could see horns but couldn’t tell how many because his head was behind a tree, I hesitated due to my fear of shooting one at dark and losing it.  I took my chances anyway thinking this may be the last one I see this year.  I shot and he ran and I panicked.  I immediately called Chris but he wouldn’t answer so I waited a few minutes, got down and went to look for blood but couldn’t find any and it was really getting dark.  I finally reached Chris and he and Mason came to help me look, I showed him where I thought he was standing and we looked around and found nothing.  I began to doubt my shot but I knew I hit him so Chris walked a little further down the lane and found blood and some yellow stuff.   That’s when the sickening feeling set in, I had not only gut shot the deer but I obviously can’t judge this lane like I thought because I thought he was a lot closer than what he actually was.  After calling a friend to bring his dog to help track him we found my deer – it was a spike, and I was devastated.  I don’t shoot spikes, it is a rule I have but I had shot a spike.  The next morning when my alarm went off I didn’t move I was still too upset with myself over making a bad decision.  Chris and Mason went hunting without me.  At 7:15 that morning Chris sent me a text message that said “Mason did it. He shot one.”  At that moment I forgot about myself and focused on Mason’s success.  While I was getting dressed to go meet up with them Chris sends me another text “doesn’t look good, gut shot, going to stay in the stand til 10 and then look.”  I crossed my fingers, said a little prayer and waited to hear back from them.  At 10 am we called the same friend with the dog and he trailed Mason’s deer.  Mason didn’t make a bad shot his was perfect the deer only ran about 50 yards a laid down Mason got his first deer – a spike.  I was very proud of him but still upset with me so we went home I was done for the weekend.  Sunday morning 7:00 am the phone rings it’s one of my girlfriends; she needs Chris to come help her husband cape out the huge buck she just killed.  That was it I had had enough everyone around me was either seeing or killing deer and now one of my friends who doesn’t hunt and gripes because I do every weekend has killed a mountable deer on her first time to go this year.  I quit!

Again I spent a few days dealing with what I now know was jealousy.  My aunt who isn’t a hunter is the one who got my mind right.  She told me that I was trying too hard and maybe if I stopped focusing on that BIG BUCK and got back to the reason why I love to hunt then maybe things will change.  After talking to her I thought about the main reason why I love to hunt and that is because I love the outdoors and nature.  When I hunt I feel like a part of nature whether it be in the mornings when it awakens or the evenings when it is going to bed.  That is what I did the following weekend. Chris and I both took off work early Friday and headed to Natchitoches, but since I wasn’t planning to hunt anymore this season we weren’t prepared and didn’t make it in time to hunt that evening.  During the night Chris and I both became very ill with a stomach virus but we hung in there determined not to be forced to go home.  We slept most of the day Saturday and at 2:00 pm we decided to give it a try and head for the stands.  Neither one of us had eaten since Friday and were extremely weak to the point that I didn’t know if I would be able to climb in the stand.  I went to the stand called long lanes and Chris hunted what is called fence row.  Around 4:30pm I had a spike come out about 200 yards in front of me I watched him walk off in Chris’s direction.  A few minutes late I had 3 does in my lane on the right so I watched them for a while.  At about 5:00 pm Chris sent me a text that he said he has 2 does to the right of his stand.  Things were looking up I was finally seeing deer.  Just before dark I had 3 more does come out on the lane to my left and began to wonder how I was getting back to the house because that was the way I had to walk out and I could still barely see them even well after dark.  I managed to get down and walk out without spooking the deer.  When I returned to the house Chris was waiting to tell me what he had seen.  Just after he sent me the text about the two does on his right a nice 8 point walked out behind them, he chose not to shoot in hopes that if I were to hunt that stand Sunday that maybe I would get a chance at him.

Sunday morning I hunted the fence row and he hunted the stand that I had hunted in the previous evening. That morning we hunted til about 11:00 am and I saw 8 does and Chris saw 5 does but no bucks. That evening we were back in the same stands that we hunted that morning and I am thinking Chris saw the buck the previous evening so maybe this will be my evening. Around 4:45 pm a doe stepped out to my right and my heart started pounding I was thinking this is it the buck can’t be far behind her. I sent Chris a text and just as I pushed send the doe spooked and ran back in to the woods I knew then that he was on his way out. Directly across the shooting lane from where the doe came from, out stepped a spike. I knew then that the big buck wasn’t there because the spike didn’t seem too concerned. A few minutes later I get a text from Chris saying “the 8 pt is on my shooting lane to the right.”  Again my point is proven he was just luckier than me and the deer seem to follow him, but why?  A few minutes later he sends me another text that said “get down and come this way if he is hanging with this doe like I think he is you can make it.” My doe had returned and now I had 2 deer to my right about 75 yards from the stand and I didn’t want to spook them but I climbed down anyway and just as I got to the bottom the doe started walking towards me and then stopped and watched. I never scared them and they just watched me walk away and at that moment I knew my luck had to be changing. The stand Chris was hunting in has a lane out front and lanes to the left and right, like a T with the stand in the center. I walked down the lane out front and headed straight for the stand trying to decide what in the world I was going to do once I got there or should I say if I got there without jumping up or spooking one that may be coming out on the lane I was walking down. I walked thru knee high water that filled my boots and made a loud squishy sound or at least to me it seemed loud.  I made it to the end just in front of the stand and was burning up from all the clothes I had on. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled out in to the lane facing the direction of the buck but he wasn’t there only a doe and a 3 point were there. Chris whispered “he is in the woods snort wheezing at the 3 pt, so just be patient” but I was uncomfortable and needed to get out of my coat so I slowly took it off and laid it on the ground. I still wasn’t sure how I was going to shoot from the ground and I knew I needed some type of rest. Everything from this moment on happened so fast that I will tell it how I think it happened. Chris pointed in the direction of the doe and the buck stepped out all I saw were horns and a huge body. I immediately stretched out, laid on my stomach, propped up on my jacket, and shot. He stumbled for a second and ran into the woods followed by the doe and then a few seconds later the 3 pt followed behind the doe. I did it I walked all the way over and I did it I got my first big buck with my brand new Savage 30-06 rifle that Chris bought me for an early Christmas present. That was an exciting moment but it wasn’t over. After Chris got down from the stand we heard a lot of crashing in the woods and I got a bad feeling that I had made a bad shot and it was getting dark. The crashing lasted for about 5 minutes and I stood ready in the shooting lane while Chris went around to where he thought he was headed to send him back my way.  A few minutes later the crashing stopped and I could hear Chris walking thru the woods in my direction, he then yelled at me and told me to start walking the lane.  I went about 30 yards and spotted something white near the woods and there he was.  I didn’t make a bad shot! Chris then told me that the crashing noises were from the 3 pt chasing the doe once he saw his window of opportunity. That’s when the high fives began because I had made a perfect 75 yard shot from the ground. Some people may call that cheating of some form since the buck didn’t come out by my stand but I call it one heck of an adrenaline rush and a really good story to tell.

I always thought of myself as a patient and non-jealous person but I let my emotions get the best of me and that is something that I will not let happen again.  When you let the things that you love to do become work and you try to hard to achieve the goal then you forget your reason for doing it at all.

Shreveport, LA

Don’t forget…The Battle of the B.O.W.

The Battle of the B.O.W. with our own Terri Lee Pocernich and her son Kale starts Tuesday the 29th on the Sportsman’s Channel. It starts in the 7:30 p.m. time slot. (that is CT).

We are very excited to see the new show and how it gets all put together. We only know one of the stories, ours. There are 9 other teams and the stories that they will also have. It should be an exciting venture, through the season!

Voting will start on after the first show on www.battleofthebow.com. Please watch the show and let us know what you think!

Camp Wild Girls Isn’t What I thought!

The Humorous Jody Narantic aka “The Hunter’s Wife” and her take on Camp Wild Girls!

You know when you run an outdoor site and you start making friends with outdoor people that you have nothing in common with except maybe cupcakes? Well when I first started a friendship with Terri Lee Pocernich of Camp Wild Girls I have to say her little outdoor camp isn’t what I thought it was. continued

Hanna Pike of Prois Hunting Takes 7×6 Bull in Colorado!

Big Bull Down! Hanna Pike of Prois Hunting Takes 7×6 Bull in Colorado! By Kirstie Pike, CEO Prois Hunting Apparel for Women

Again?!? Yes, again… Hanna Pike, daughter of Prois founders Steve and Kirstie Pike, bags another trophy animal for 2009! Hanna, 17 years old, started out her 2009 season with hard-earned Mountain Goat that she took in the 13,000 foot peaks of Colorado. This week, Hanna scored her second trophy of 2009- a 7×6 bull taken in Southeastern Colorado.

Hanna, accompanied by her father and grandfather (Jim “Jim Dog” Pike) set out for the south east reaches of the state. Packing in on horseback, the threesome set up early on opening morning to glass the area. A number of sizable bulls and cows were sighted that morning. However, when Hanna spotted a nice 7×6, she knew that was the bull she wanted. After some maneuvering, she was able to set-up into position and take her shot.

The rest, they say, is history. A trophy bull is quite a prize, but the memories fabulous hunt shared with her dad and grampa are what will mean the most. Passing the torch and fueling the passion for hunting and the outdoors starts at home. It is a beautiful thing to watch our kids grow into the next generation of sportsmen/women. Oh, and by the way…Hanna isn’t done yet. She ALSO drew a Colorado Mule Deer tag for the upcoming season…stay tuned!

My First Bull Elk!

Comment by Wendy Koons on October 29, 2009 at 12:10pm

My first bull elk! Taken last Saturday (10/24/09) on the last day of a controlled/lottery hunt in literally the last few minutes of shooting light. I’ve taken a few cow elk over the past several years since moving to Idaho, but never a bull. The hunt opened on October 1st and we turned every weekend into 3 or 4 days of hard hunting. Saw tons of elk, probably 300+ head all together, but just couldn’t get it done – either we were winded by the cows or the bulls changed their minds and didn’t give me the shot I needed. Then we had a hard freeze and snow that really put the brakes on the rut and the elk pretty much stopped talking, no matter how much calling we did. I had pretty much given up on taking a bull, but on Saturday evening, about 15 or 20 minutes before dark, my boyfriend Jeff and another friend decided to give calling another try. And the bull I took let us know he was there. They called and he came charging in, screaming all the way and pushing a good number of cows and calves ahead of him. There was one smaller bull with the group, that I saw first, but couldn’t get a shot on him. I’m glad, because I’m really happy with this guy. I was afraid there wasn’t enough light when he finally came into view, but when I looked through the scope I could see him clearly and pulled the trigger. He hunched up and disappeared into some thick timber. It got dark on us, so we backed out and came in at first light the next morning. Found him about 100 yards from where I shot him. The best part though was having my boyfriend Jeff with me. He contracted the neurological form of West Nile virus in 2007 and it nearly did him in. He spent over 9 months in physical rehab, and last year this time was in a wheelchair. To have him there with me and help call in that bull after all he’d been through was nothing short of miraculous. I think he was more excited than I was. Before the hunt I told him I thought if I got one bull, I’d probably go back to hunting cows, but now that I know how exciting it is, I might have to change my mind. …

NorCalCazadora takes her first deer!

The great shock: I finally got my first deer!  by Holly Heyser

I GOT A DEER! I GOT A DEER! I GOT A DEER!

I shouted the words into the cell phone this morning, struggling to share the news with Boyfriend as the bars kept disappearing from my screen. Redial. Signal lost. Redial again. Ring ring ring.

I GOT A DEER!

He got it that time.  

I went out this morning like I do on all hunts – simultaneously fantasizing about the perfect hunt and bracing for the big goose-egg.

The latter is a good strategy for blacktail hunting in California, which has the lowest success rate of all wild game hunting in the state. But I actually had some reason to be optimistic today.

First of all, unlike last weekend’s hunt with Phillip in the Mendocino National Forest, I was on private land. It was only 50 acres, but it was 50 acres that hasn’t been hunted in who knows how long, and I had it all to myself.

Second of all, unlike last weekend when we did not see one single legal buck, I’d already seen several on this land. But let me back up for a second.

Boyfriend and I were actually supposed to be hunting wild boar here. Owners John and Peg Poswall were going out in the mornings and finding their landscaping all dug up. Peg knows Boyfriend through the food world, and she thought her hunter friend might be able to help alleviate their problem.

The only hitch was that they had never seen the pigs during the day, which we knew might be an insurmountable obstacle – you can’t hunt pigs at night. But John mentioned that they had tons of deer that we were also welcome to hunt, so I picked up a deer tag Thursday morning.

When I arrived Friday afternoon ahead of Boyfriend, John took me on a tour of the property and I found tons of pig sign and deer sign. At the end of the ride, I even saw several legal bucks (forked-horn or better) skitter across their fence. Sweet!

Boyfriend and I spent the night and when we got up the next morning, I took him to a spot where I’d found a pretty good pig trail. We perched on some boulders and waited to see what would come, but nothing did. Then I looked up the hill and noticed deer munching on cypress trees on a walkway leading to a fountain. They were about 180 yards away.

I angled up the rock for a better shooting position and one of the bucks in the group turned broadside. My heart raced. My bipod shooting stick was too low. My position was awkward and unsteady. In the early-morning light, I couldn’t see clearly what was behind the buck (I think it might’ve been a chicken coop, but there were lots of marble statues in the vicinity that had me just as worried). And on top of all that, it was 180 yards away – a little far for me. The buck moved behind a tree, and then the whole group trotted off and the opportunity was gone.

Boyfriend totally would’ve taken that shot – and made it – so I felt like a moron for holding back. But he was nice enough about it. “If it doesn’t feel right, you shouldn’t do it,” he said.

We decided to take a quiet walk around the property so I could show him other promising spots I’d seen. As we walked along a creek at the bottom of a hill, we bumped four does on the open hillside above us. Then we went to a pond where pigs had been wreaking havoc. By this time, it was getting pretty late and we began talking in normal tones instead of a whisper. We figured we’d spend the rest of the morning mushroom hunting.

“You know what we haven’t seen yet?” he asked.

“What?”

“A rabbit.”

And just then, something burst away from us on the other side of a bush.

“There’s one,” he said laughing. Then we realized it wasn’t a rabbit; it was a buck. Forked-horn, and a nice size. He’d let us get ridiculously close to him.

The buck sprinted up the hill and then came to a stop. Broadside. Right in front of the house.

Hell!

I looked back at Boyfriend, chagrined to have lost my second chance of the morning.

“Oh, even I wouldn’t have taken that shot!” he said.

We called it quits not long after that. But it was really bugging me that I knew deer were there and I hadn’t gotten a shot at them. When John and Peg made it clear I was welcome back anytime, I said, “Could I come back tomorrow?”

That was how I found myself walking down that trail again at 5:50 this morning in the near-blackness of the new moon – alone, because Boyfriend had work to do today. I hadn’t gone 20 steps down the driveway when I bumped a deer – right where we’d spooked that forkie the day before. But I couldn’t see what it was. Too dark.

I circled around to the place where we’d seen the first deer of the day on Saturday, and as I made my way to an oak tree I could back up to, I bumped another deer that I could hear, but not see.

Crap. Would this be the only time I’d see the deer here?

The answer was yes. I spent nearly two hours under that tree and watched all variety of geese and ducks and woodpeckers, and heard not one but two flocks of turkeys down the hill from me. But not a single four-legged critter came by. And with the wind swirling all over the place, it was no surprise – my scent had to be stinking up the whole area. The only excitement had been hearing rifle fire from somewhere nearby. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Damn, either you’re not a good shot, or you’re not hunting…

I decided to bail.

I walked back to the pond where we’d bumped the forkie to see if he’d make the same mistake twice, but he wasn’t there.

It was 8:40 and I hadn’t seen squat. But I decided to make one last swing – down to the creek, then back up to where I’d started – before calling it quits.

I walked down the trail toward the creek quietly, scanning the big, open hillside where we’d bumped the does the day before, wondering where they were now.

Then I saw antlers sticking up out of the dry grass. They were attached to a head that was pointed my way.

Where I saw antlers

My heart leapt into my throat and the rest of my body went the other direction, sinking slowly toward the ground, right there in the middle of the trail. I set up my shooting sticks, raised the gun and took at better look at what I’d seen – a lone forked-horn buck bedded down, broadside to me, about 80 yards away. He was looking my direction, but the wind was in my face, so he couldn’t smell me, and he clearly wasn’t spooked.

My stick was positioned too low, so I slowly reached for each of the legs and extended them a bit. Looked through the scope again. Still a forked-horn – looked like the one we’d seen the day before. Shooting stick was still too low.

One more adjustment and it was perfect. And the buck still wasn’t moving.

But boy, my gun was. My heart was thumping wildly.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, I told myself. I put the crosshairs on where I thought his vitals should be, but the grass obscured his body.

No need to take that shot, I told myself. He’d have to get up soon – his nice shady spot was starting to get sun.

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

I kept the scope on his vitals, but my eyes kept wandering to his antlers. A forkie may be no big deal in whitetail country, but this was a respectable deer. A legal target. My heart raced more.

Just look at his ribcage.

After five minutes, I finally calmed down enough that I felt I could take a shot.

If he’d just get up. He seemed to be in no hurry. He looked this way and that. No hurry.

My arms trembled from holding the gun steady for so long.

Finally, the buck heaved – rear end up first, then the front. He took a step, quartering slightly toward me. I put the crosshairs behind his elbow and the rest of what happened became a crystalline memory.

BOOM!

He staggered a few steps and dropped. Good!

He got back up. Problem?

Even without the scope I could see a bloody hole in his ribcage, glistening in the sunshine that had ended his nap. Good hit – definitely hit lungs.

He wobbled, and collapsed.

Yes! These are the shots I dream of. Not some botched shot that sends an animal into the woods to suffer until I find him, maybe dead, maybe alive. The shot that takes him down before he knows what happened. No suffering; just rapid death.

I watched the spot, then checked my watch. Boyfriend and I had gone over the what-if scenarios the night before. How long should I wait if I shoot a deer and it runs? How long if he just drops on the spot?

Ten minutes, just to be safe. It was 8:54:03.

I was trembling uncontrollably. I peeled off my gloves, jacket and hat and watched the spot to make sure he didn’t get up. For a moment, I saw the grass twitch spasmodically where the deer had fallen. Not struggle; just the nerve reactions that follow death. I’ve never killed a deer before, but I know what that looks like.

I glanced at my watch. 8:57.

Oh my God, I got a deer!

“Thank you,” I said out loud. For the deer’s sacrifice. For the dumb luck that had allowed me to spot him, and to take the time to regain my composure, and to be presented with a perfect shot.

I looked at my watch every 30 seconds, and finally it was time. I marched up the slope and searched the knee-high star thistle. There. On the ground. Eyes open and tongue out. Dead.

He looked a little smaller than I’d thought from where I shot him, but I didn’t care – he was a good looking deer.

I went back up to the house to get some things – like Boyfriend’s truck, which I could take down the trail. I saw Peg and John at the house.

“We heard seven shots!” John said.

“Only one was mine,” I said. “The last one.”

They seemed relieved. “John was saying, ‘She must not be a very good shot…’ ” Peg said.

I laughed, and told them I needed to get back to the deer to field dress it.

But first, I needed a picture. I’d brought my camera, a tripod and a remote control, so I could take a picture of myself:

The gutting was a pain. The biggest mammal I’ve ever dressed was a jack rabbit, so this was more challenging. I struggled through it and got almost everything out. That’s when I noticed the very full bladder still attached. I felt around it, trying to figure out how to liberate it without emptying it all over the meat, with the animal lying on its side on a gentle slope. I was stumped.

Blood up to my elbows, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Boyfriend. “How do I get the &^@#! bladder out?” I yelled. His answer was not helpful. I went back to the deer, and after several attempts, hoisted him up by his hind legs to get the bladder hanging, pinched off the tube leading into it, cut the tube and tossed the bladder a safe distance away.

Whew!

And here’s where I felt really blessed to be hunting where I was: I was able to drop the tailgate of the pickup, angle it toward the hillside, and drag the deer 20 yards to the bed of the pickup. Total luxury!

I went back to the house to get the remainder of my stuff and gave thanks to my hosts. Peg looked at me – bloody and stinking – with what looked like a mix of intrigue and horror. She was totally cool with the hunting, but for all I know, this was her closest encounter with freshly-killed meat.

“All right,” I said. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m disgusting and smelly, so I’m just going to get out of here.”

On the drive home, I began texting and calling my hunting friends to share the news. I’d tucked the deer well into the bed of the pickup so nothing would stick out, but honestly, I had the urge to parade him around and show everyone: I’d just gotten a deer. By myself! My first deer ever. A blacktail! I just wanted someone in a taller vehicle than mine to look into the bed of that truck and give me the nod of approval.

I was amused by my reaction. I’ve not really cared that I hadn’t gotten a deer in my previous three years of hunting, but I was as proud and excited as if it had been a lifelong goal.

When I got home, I got what I was looking for. I found Boyfriend working in the garden, but he came to me immediately to give his stinky, bloody girlfriend a big hug. He was proud of me – I’d done it on my own.

I kept grinning through the rest of our work breaking down the deer, and wondered why I was so taken with the experience.

“I think we’re just hardwired to hunt deer,” he said. “We’ve been hunting deer since before we were ‘we.’ ”

Maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s the odds. I’d gotten my Second Chance buck on my sixth day of deer hunting ever. Statistics say it takes 33 days of hunting to get one. Phillip had told me it’d taken him four years to get a blacktail.

Maybe it’s the antlers – the thing that allows you to instantly measure your quarry. This was the first antlered animal I’d killed.

Maybe it was the fact that I’d done it myself. Sorta. While I was alone at that moment, the reality is that every action I took was influenced by what I’d learned from people like Boyfriend, Phillip and even random TV shows. But I’d made all the decisions. I’d spotted the antlers in the grass. I’d taken the good shot.

I don’t know. I probably won’t figure it out tonight. I may not figure it out ever. But for now, I’m just happy.

© Holly A. Heyser 2009

For more stories from Holly go to www.norcalcazadora.com

Take the 2yr. Old Hunting with you?!

Kudos to this dad for taking his not yet 3 year old out hunting with him. As a mother of a two year old I know it is no small feat.  

This proud daddy sent me a story about his little 2 year old huntress. She was up that morning at 4:45, scent killer showered, ready and raring to go, even if uncle Dan wasn’t quite ready!

Here is his story:

We went out that morning after I took those pictures and had a nice doe at about 50 yards. She was closing in fast on us. My daughter had a coughing attack, which scared the doe off.

That night we went out again and had the same doe coming in on us. The same thing happened but this time she covered her mouth and muffled the cough enough so the doe walked right in at 15 yards. My 2 yr. old stopped her for me with the old “BAAEEP” sound. I put a good shot on the doe and sealed the deal.

 I was so proud of her. All that practicing and explaining I had done with her paid off. It proved that kids are never too young to get involved.

So don’t be afraid to bring your daughter (or son) with you sometime. I found it is a great way for me to spend time with my daughter and still get to do what I love.

Jake Flett

12 yr. Old Hannah Goes Hunting Bear!

I met Hannah at the youth bear hunt when I was interviewing the kids that the ABC Sportsmen’s Club had sponsored. This spunky little gal was raring to go and told me she would be on a hunting show some day! You go Girl!

 Here is 12 year old Hannah’s Bear Hunt in her own words:

 The first day we went out and we checked on the baits in the beginning of the day. We saw 2 cubs alone and there was 1 mother and 3 cubs. It was a good sized mother, but of course you can’t shoot a mother with cubs. Then at around 2 o’clock we looked at one bait, and we saw medium sized tracks and we guessed around a 200 pound bear.

 We got ready and we decided to go after it. We let 1 dog go and started to hear the howling and we let 3 more and then another 2. They all started howling and we kept going back and forth and back and forth because they kept on running on the bear tracks for 2 hours because the bear would not go up a tree.

 The bear was running in circles. My guide Larry noticed there were 3 dogs going in one direction and 3 dogs going in the other and it was weird because we think there was a small 100 pound (bear) and another 200 pound bear. Three dogs were chasing after one and 3 dogs were chasing after the other. We put 3 more (dogs) out there and we ended up with the 100 or so pound bear up a tree.

 We had to walk at least a mile out in the woods and we found it. It was up in a tree and it was about 125 pounds.

 We were getting the dogs tied back and getting ready to shoot and it went down the tree. It ran out and he let the dogs go again. Larry asked if  

I wanted to go for a different one and I said no because none of the other kids had one yet at this time.  

 Our truck was way over on the other side and we were closer to some trucks on this side of the woods where there were other people that helped us. He (Larry) went to get our truck and we heard howling really close to us. One of the other hunters came back and he said that the bear was on the side of the road up in a tree.

 We ran down the road and there it was up a tree and all the dogs were there. Then I shot it once and got it in the lungs and then it climbed up the tree. We didn’t know if I missed it or not. It was weird and then we hit it again, I think in the neck and it still wouldn’t drop. So we hit it 1 more time and it finally dropped. It weighed about 125 pounds.

Hannah’s first words when she saw the bear were “I can’t believe this! It’s like I’m dreaming”.

 A big THANK YOU to the Medford Hunter Safety Instructors, Ashland Bayfield County Sportsmen Club, Bayfield County Wisconsin DNR Warden Pat Quaintance, and Guide Larry Leer of Ettrick, WI and his entire crew of awesome Hunters for making this little girl’s unbelievable wish happen.

 Youth can sign up for the WI LTBH (Learn to Bear Hunt) program on the  WI DNR webpage or at a DNR Service Center or at a hunter’s safety class.

One more note: Hannah has also taken her first deer in the WI Youth hunt last weekend. Congratulations Hannah.

2009 Wheeler Ram

Check out these pictures of the New Mexio Auction Tag Holder’s ram. We’re told that the ram was taken in the Wheeler Peak unit and scored 189 2/8.

15 3/8 x 41 and 10 years old.

We’ll post more information as we learn more. But for now, enjoy these pictures of a huge old bighorn. And be sure to check out the rest of our sheep and goat hunts.

See the original article at GotHunts.com

Bonefishing Report from Capt. Rick Grassett

Capt. Rick Grassett, is a full-time fishing guide and outdoor writer based in Sarasota, FL. He’s a great host and a super guy, and as luck would have it he hosts a group at Andros South each year.

Here’s Capt. Grassett’s report from last week. Thanks Rick!

—

I spent the last week from Saturday, May 2nd through Saturday, May 9th, hosting a group of friends and customers at Andros South bonefish lodge on South Andros in the Bahamas. Nick Reding, Bob Harness and Bob Reynolds, all from St. Louis, MO, Frank Rhodes, from Auburndale, FL, Hal Lutz, from Parrish, FL and Jon Yenari and I, from Sarasota, met in Ft. Lauderdale on Saturday afternoon, May 2nd. We had a smooth, one hour flight over on a Lynx Air twin engine Cessna 402 and were greeted by managers Rick Sisler and Kateri Clay.

The weather and fishing were near perfect! I had an opportunity to fish with each member of the group and fish a variety of areas. Some days were better than others and some days were fantastic! Anglers fishing the vast sand flats to the south fished near Jackfish Channel, the Water Cays, Curly Cut Cays, Fish Key and the “airport flat”. Some of these flats are so big they go all the way to the horizon. Frank and Jon had a great day at the “airport flat” one day catching and releasing more than 50 bones. Hal and I fished the south end one day and had a great morning wading along a mangrove shoreline on a flood tide. We caught 15 or 20 fish before noon. Frank, Jon, Hal and Kateri went offshore one day and landed more than 30 mahi mahi (dolphin) to 12-pounds on flies and conventional tackle. Their first mahis on fly!

Several creeks – Deep Creek, Little Creek and Grassy Creek all cut through to the west side, crossing the ”Devil’s Backbone” ridge and open up into large flats and salt ponds with smaller creeks feeding into them. We caught lots and lots of bonefish to 6-pounds with most of them in the 2 to 3-pound class. Some were smaller and a few were even bigger. Another angler at the lodge, John from British Columbia, landed an 8-pounder one day. Bob Reynolds and I had a great day on a huge school over on the west side one day with guide, Fredlon. We waded and doubled and tripled for more than an hour. I also landed a 30-pound ‘cuda that day! Nick and I fished with Torrie one day and learned a lot about targeting big bonefish.

Even though catching lots of fish out of a big school is a lot of fun, the most rewarding to me is stalking singles, doubles and smaller schools. A couple of the most rewarding fish I caught were tailing on a slick, calm morning when we had to wade like a “heron” and make a perfect cast to catch them! Top flies were Gotchas, Peterson’s Spawning Shrimp and variations of them. We also encountered lots of sharks and ‘cudas. Several ‘cudas, up to 30-pounds, were landed on flies and conventional tackle.

Bob Reynolds from St. Louis, Mo, with a nice South Andros bonefish
Photo: Rick Grassett

I hated to come back to the real world, but the good thing is that tarpon fishing is getting ready to take off back at home in Sarasota. I have already received several reports of tarpon being jumped and landed from Tampa Bay to Sarasota. I’ll be on the water this week hunting tarpon, which should get even better as we get further away from last week’s full moon.

Tight Lines,
Capt. Rick Grassett

See the original article at GotHunts.com

Spot And Stalk Trout

Fishing for trout can certainly be done by fishing blind, finding likely holding water and casting a good imitation of trout food into these places hoping for action.  Admittedly a lot of my time on the water is spent this way and sometimes it is your only option.  However, it is a truly rewarding experience when you are able to spot a subtly feeding fish, devise a game plan, and stalk within casting range without disturbing its feeding pattern.  Then choose the right fly, make a perfect cast, manage any tricky currents, bring the fly into the feeding zone at the right moment, and seeing it all come together at the intersection of fly and trout snout.

This spring I had plenty of occasions to practice my trout stalking skills on a local river.  It is a tail water fishery, and the flows in this river are quite low all winter and spring until they bump up sometime after the reservoir above fills in mid April.  This means that in March and early April there is a lot of skinny water, and you will often find large fish hanging in water barely deep enough to cover their backs.  These fish are relatively easy to spot and thus make for a perfect opportunity to apply the spot and stalk method to fly fishing.   I have really enjoyed testing my skills and finding out just how much fun stalking big trout can be.

Late March on this river also ushers in a highly anticipated event.  Skwalas.  An early stonefly that is welcomed with open arms as they offer a much needed break from fishing tiny midge and baetis patterns all winter.  The Skwala Stoneflies are not overly prolific but fish do often gobble up the unfortunate few adults that find themselves clumsily flailing about on the rivers surface.  There was one particular outing this spring where my intention from the beginning was to hammer the bigger bugs into likely holding water and watch the trout go nuts for the big juicy morsels.  In my over exuberance I made some critical mistakes that undoubtedly cost me a few fish that day.

After rigging up my fly rod at the truck with a trusted adult Skwala pattern, I barged down to the water and without much grace waded right into the current.  After casting into likely holding water below riffles, and around mostly submerged rocks for about 20 minutes, and coming up empty I turned to wade up river to the next run.  There about 20 feet from me just off the bank in some very shallow water I could see a good sized fish working back and forth in the trickling current.  With my mind still set on Skwalas I threw a nice cast landing a few feet out in front of the fish.  As the fly drifted overhead the big fish made a lazy start up at it then turned away at the last moment.  I made a few more casts and each one got similar results.  Finally I took a breather and just watched the fish as it fed.  It was feeding in a small channel of current that flowed between two small submerged rocks.  It was darting back and forth and at times rising nearly to the surface to intercept its food.  As I watched it I knew it was time to put away the big bugs and break out my midge box again.    As the fish continued to feed, its mouth slashing from one side to the other in the buffet line drifting by it in that soft current, I devised my game plan.  Seeing that the fish had not shied away from the Skwala pattern I had passed over it a few minutes earlier, I used one of my favorite methods of fishing small hard to see flies that are fished subsurface.  I tied about 18 inches of tippet to the bend of the hook on my bullet head Skwala pattern and tied on a #20 zebra midge as a dropper.  This would allow me to watch the larger fly to detect a strike on the smaller submerged fly without using an unnatural looking indicator that would likely spook or tip off the fish.

As the cast unfurled and landed a few feet above the slot the fish was feeding in, I watched in anticipation.  The flies drifted through the slot cleanly and as the Skwala pattern passed over the feeding fish I saw it make a quick movement and the Skwala gently dipped below the surface.  I brought up the rod tip and felt the heavy head shake of a hooked trout.  As the big brown trout blasted across the river ripping line from my reel a smile broke out on my face.  This is what it is all about.

A few moments later after releasing the 20 inch brown back into the current I took a very close look up the stream ahead of me.  There about 15 feet in front of where I had just caught this fish was another very similar fish in a similar lie slashing from side to side.  And up beyond that fish I could see the dark form of yet another fish also feeding a couple feet off the bank in the shallow water.  I was glad to see it but became quite aware that with fish stacked up like this tight to  the bank I surely had busted a couple feeding fish out of their water when I had pushed my way down to the river.  That day turned out to be one of my better ones on the river as I stalked and caught visibly feeding fish right up until dark.

If you are like me you value your time on the water fishing.  Quite a lot of energy can be built up just anticipating the moment that you arrive at the river.  The problem is our tendency to allow this energy to push us along right into the river where we begin to waive our rod madly about, without stopping to simply observe what is happening on the water.  The solution is a matter of taking the energy built up within us and dialing it back a couple notches before we arrive at our fishing spot.   Slow down and use your senses.  Too often I am in such a rush when I get to the river my main goal is just to get a fly tied on and get in the water.  While the advice we have all gotten at some point in our lives that “you can’t catch a fish without your line in the water,” is technically true, it can also cause you to miss out on a lot of fish.  Rather than rushing down to the water’s edge it is sometimes better to start by hunting rather than fishing.  Look for feeding fish, look for insects, keep your options open, and don’t solidify your game plan until you have taken some time to truly observe what is happening that day on the river.  Rivers are a changing environment and no two days will be the same.  We can’t just assume what worked for us last time we were here will work the same way again.  It is this constant challenge that keeps us coming back.

So the next time you pull up to your favorite fishing hole remember the words of baseball’s wordsmith, Yogi Bera, “you can observe a lot by just watching.”

This article by: BaseCampLegends.com

Alaskan Job Position Open

Subject: Alaska Position Open
Position: Surveyor
Salary: $200 per hour (tax-free)
Qualification: Must be fast on your feet

See the original article at GotHunts.com

August’s Woman of the Wild-Tammy Ballew

Tammy Ballew is a court reporter by profession and a huntress by passion. She has spent hundred of hours over the last 30 years hunting deer, turkey and several small game species, in addition to fishing in her home state of Missouri. An avid outdoorswoman in many respects, Tammy’s love of hunting and fishing has enabled her in her outdoor writing career also. She currently is a member of WOMA, Women’s Outdoor Media Association, and is the field staff editor for the “Women in the Outdoors—Gals with Guns and Fishing Females” section of the West Tennessee Outdoor and Michigan’s Hooks and Bullets Magazine. Tammy also writes for The WON, The Women’s Outdoor News, and contributes to their “In the Bag” reviews. Tammy recently joined the Pro Staff at HuntingLife.com

Tammy started hunting in her early 20s, and although deer hunting was her first experience, she soon grew equally as excited about turkey hunting. “I loved the vocalness of the turkeys and the amazing transformation of Mother Nature during the early weeks of spring turkey season.” She admits she knew nothing about turkey hunting, but she bought a couple turkey calls and a training tape, and read as many articles as she could on the subject, and was soon on her way to chasing gobblers. In fact, the first turkeys she called up, she was so shocked that she did it, she didn’t even shoot. Lesson learned, she has since been successful on several toms.

She and her husband have five children, and most of them hunt at least some species. One of her fondest hunts was with her son, Travis, a Marine currently serving in Iraq. They doubled up on a couple gobblers after a morning of whatever-could-go-wrong-went-wrong hunt.

They also have five grandchildren, which Tammy holds a Kuzin’ Kamp each summer where she teaches the kids to fish, shoot BB guns and .22s, catch-and-release frogs and any other critter that comes in their path.

Tammy’s goals are to pass down the traditions of hunting and fishing to her children, grandchildren, and anyone else that wants to share in the experience.

See the original article at CampWildGirls.com

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