April’s Woman of the Wild~Tish Proffitt

As I ponder my evalution as a Huntress and avid angler, I realize my journey began many years ago growing up in the great state of Virginia, rich with wildlife and abundant with waters!  My parents still enjoy sharing stories of me wanting to sleep in but rolling out of bed at the last second when Dad was leaving to go fishing for fear of being left behind!  So began my love of the water and fishing!  Over the years I’ve had the blessed privilege of fishing in various states on the east coast along with the Gulf Stream and coastal waters. I have been able to supply my family with meals of a variety of fish including everything from Alabama crappie and Virginia bass to Tennessee striper and Gulf Stream yellowfin tuna!  Although all meals I place on the table are nice, none compare with dining on freshly caught trout from the stream served on a lap of aluminum foil!!
Another of my outdoor pleasures I only have the chance to engage in once a year and only in a 3 week window, hunting morels!! Affectionately refered to as dry land fish in areas of the south, these small mushrooms have provided many a delicious meal here in my home. Times spent hunting and gathering morels take me back to my roots as supplier for my family.  Native Americans shared in this gathering of food and generations later, I love the time spent seeking the forest floor in search of her treasure and passing along this tradition to my two young daughters.
As a huntress, again I started at the tender age of 12 hunting with my dad and distinctly remember my first hunting trip being a dove hunt.  I didn’t kill any that day but enjoyed being outdoors and being with my dad. For many years I joined him in the woods and successfully harvested small game but never any large game. I married a hunter at the age of nineteen and for four years I let him enjoy his hunts with his male hunting buddies. Then I realized, this is something I enjoy as well and can share with him the way I did with my dad!!  The need and desire to hunt took over and for the last nine years I have joined him in the field hunting with my new hunting partner!  Over those nine seasons I have harvested twelve deer, two turkey, more small game than I can count, a Texas Dall Ram and successfully added grouse hunting to my list of feats!  Although all my kills were rewarding and very special to me, none of my endeavors came close to sharing the experience of my seven year old daughter’s first kill when she harvested a 225 lb boar in Tennessee!!  To know that she carries the same passion, fire and desire that I have is a feeling that words cannot express!!
I consider it an honor to be featured on this site along other strong women in the sport!  The last year has been filled with many things I never thought possible.  I have my own Signature Series of turkey calls that I sell online and in sporting goods stores in my area, I launched my project Southern Belle Outdoors which supplies ladies with discounts on hunting related products!!  Please feel free to add me on Facebook and get to know me!! I love having the opportunity to represent women in this sport and meeting and sharing with other ladies with the same passion as I. To each of you, I wish you the very best of luck and happy hunting!!

Tisha Proffitt
Southern Belle Outdoors

 

January’s Woman of the Wild-Tera Busker

Every little girl idolizes her daddy and growing up I wanted to be just like mine. I wanted to be a truck driver, a fireman and, most of all, a hunter. Every November I remember helping my dad get his gear ready for Wisconsin deer opener. I was a ball of excitement as we hung the blaze orange clothes outside, packed up the chili and made sure everything was ready for the next morning.  But, every year as my dad headed out to the woods, I was left behind. Not because I didn’t want to go, but because I didn’t have a hunter’s license. Where I grew up not many girls hunted and I was way too intimidated to take hunters safety with a bunch of boys. So what did I do? I waited until I was 18 to take hunters safety with a bunch of pre teen boys. AKWARD! But after so many years of sitting in the woods and not being able to hunt, I had to do what I had to do so I could partake in the full hunting experience.

I remember my first hunt like it was yesterday.  It was one of the coldest mornings of the year up to that point – 5 degrees. My dad and I sat in a small stand together in Prescott, Wisconsin. I was SO excited for the sun to come up for my first official hunt to officially begin, but it seemed like the light of day couldn’t get there soon enough. As soon as the sun came up, the temperature seemed to drop another 10 degrees. I remember thinking…”Is this really what I was excited about? I’m going to freeze to death before I get a chance to shoot.”  (I can be a little dramatic at times) We sat in our stand all morning and didn’t see a thing. After lunch we decided to do a small drive with our hunting party. Since I was the newbie in the group they set me up to get the deer. Not long after they started the drive a large doe came my way. It was a textbook scenario – she stopped 30 yards from me, broadside. I pulled up and took the shot – perfect.  When you have great beginners luck like that, you can’t help but fall in love with the sport. I was hooked. Since that first hunt, hunting and the outdoors have been a passion of mine.

In 2005, my dad introduced me to the greatest hunting experience ever – Spring turkey hunting. There is NOTHING like calling in a big, fanned out Tom Turkey while he slowly struts his way towards you. It’s an amazing adrenaline rush to hear the gobbles get closer and closer and when you finally see the Tom dancing in full strut right in front of you – it’s beautiful! Since 2005 I have only missed one Spring Turkey hunt, which was when I ran my first half marathon. BUT – I will tell you that for 10 of those 13 miles I had visions of turkeys dancing in my head.

Hunting and being in the outdoors are passions of mine, but another love of mine is fitness. As an avid runner, weight room junkie and personal trainer, I’ve found a great way to combine both of my passions. 2 years ago I started a fitness program for hunters and outdoor men & women called CrossHairs Fitness. CrossHairs Fitness is a hunting/outdoors specific fitness program designed to help people get ready for their upcoming hunts or to get in better shape for the hunting season. Many hunters don’t think about important their health & fitness level is to their hunt until they are out in the woods and gasping for breath as they walk up a hill. When you are in shape and feel good, the hunting experience is so much more enjoyable. This is a very fun and rewarding program for both me & my clients. I help them get strong, healthy & “hunt ready” and they have more energy & fun during their hunt.

I became an ACE (American Council on Exercise) Certified Personal trainer in 2000. After working in a large gym for a few years, I decided I wanted and needed a change. I noticed that the setting that I was in wasn’t ideal. There were too many distractions (waiting lines for equipment, noisy conversations, loud music) and the excuses to miss workouts became more frequent for my clients (no baby sitter, bad weather, too busy). I became very frustrated with what was happening! I wanted to give my clients the privacy and the one-on-one attention that they deserved as well as eliminate the excuses to miss appointments. I wanted the best for my clients and I knew that they wouldn’t be able to get it in a gym. In 2002 I developed Fitness To Go, an in home, online and private studio personal training service tailored to fit into my clients busy lifestyles. With Fitness To Go, I am able to bring my services and equipment to my clients as well as offer them a quiet and private place to workout at my studio in Roberts. No more excuses or distractions. Just me and my clients, working collectively together to reach their goals in a way that is challenging, yet, convenient and fun.

In 2010 I added Get Fit Bootcamp to the services that Fitness To Go offers. Get Fit Bootcamp is a unique and fun 60 minute class that combines cardio, strength training and core work all in one exciting workout. It’s not your “standard” bootcamp class – no yelling and NO negative talk. Get Fit Bootcamp is all about being positive and encouraging each other to do YOUR very best.

You can say I’m a no nonsense type of trainer. I don’t believe in excuses, gimmicks, pills or shortcuts of any kind. There is no easy way out when it comes to your health. Hard work, determination & commitment are what it takes to reach any goal that you set for yourself. Making excuses will only set you further away from achieving your goal! I am truly blessed to be able to work with my amazing clients and see the progress that they are making each and every day! Each one of my clients is an inspiration to me & they are why I keep doing what I do.

When I am not training my awesome clients, I spend my free time hunting with my husband Luke, relaxing with my 2 lazy bassets Lucy & Maggie and finding new way to challenge myself. Whether I’m hunting a new animal,  sprinting through 6 miles of mud or running 2 half marathons back-to-back, I try to always keep myself JUST outside of my comfort zone. I believe if I am always striving to do bigger & better things in life, it help me relate to my clients so much better.  Losing weight and getting healthy can be hard & scary at times, but once you step out of your comfort zone, you open yourself to a whole new world of possibilities.

I am always looking for a new way to challenge myself, so this year I plan to try coyote and pheasant hunting as well as bow fishing. These are things that the other great hunter in my life, my husband Luke, loves to do during his free time. It will be a great way for us to spend time together and enjoy the outdoors. Because, as the saying goes in my family….the family that hunts together, stays together.

Mia’s Elk Hunt 2010~Camp Wild Girls Rep Mia Anstine

This years fall elk hunt was, as always, a tough one.  I hunted third rifle season which ran November 6th through November 14th.  Third season is always a chilly one, and this year was no different.  We had it pretty easy the first weekend.  It at least got above 40 degrees during the day. More>

MY Hunting Story! by Robyn Woodruff

I’ve always enjoyed the outdoors and had a strong appreciation for the beautiful planet in which we live.  I was first introduced to hunting by my high school sweetheart and his family. They were avid deer hunters and their enthusiasm for the sport made me want to hunt.  However, “hunting is not for women” they would say.  Years later, I met and married the man of my dreams.  The man who also happened to be an avid hunter and fisherman and who would jump on the opportunity to teach all he knows about hunting and fishing to any willing participant.  I now fish and hunt musky, small game, waterfowl, turkey, whitetail deer and just about any animal that comes in season in the State of Indiana with one caveat.  I only harvest animals I will eat.  I have a great time outdoors and have been very successful over the years with the exception of whitetail deer.

Every year on the Friday before deer firearms opens; we head out (camper in tow) to one of Indiana’s state owned properties.  We do our homework by scouting areas in advance of the season, setting up latter stands and making sure we have a plan B in the event there are other hunters in our area.  I have had a couple of encounters with nice bucks, but never such that I could get a good shot.  I am particular about shooting and have to feel comfortable about every shot I take.  My Husband teases me and says “why didn’t you shoot?”  Every year seemed filled with squirrels or orange hat humans getting my heart going and the words “why didn’t you shoot?”  While I am confident that Indiana’s natural resource programs work and our state forests and parks are of great caliber, I have ran into to less than favorable situations hunting public land; including, but not limited to, a burning truck, a guy target shooting an automatic assault rifle, a dead calf and marijuana plants.  The latter was my last straw. It’s unfortunate that a few bad apples ruin it for the bunch.  I told my Husband I would no longer hunt in these areas.  It just so happened about the same time I made my ultimatum, my Husband acquired permission on 400 hundred acres of private land. We were ecstatic! We immediately began scouting and setting up trail cameras.

It’s now opening morning of deer firearms 2010.  We drive to our parking spot, finish dressing and spray down with cover scent. We walk for a little a while until it’s time to split ways to our respective stands. My Husband bends down, kisses me on the cheek and whispers “no small bucks, sweetie.”  I nod in response and head toward the woods.  It’s a cloudy morning, very dark and I note that I may have a difficult time finding my stand.  As I enter the woods, I spook a deer. It snorts and trots away.  The remainder of my trek in the woods could be compared to an elephant stampede and I was convinced there wasn’t an animal within 50 miles, let alone a deer.  I was beginning to get frazzled and think I would have to sit on the ground until it was a bit lighter.  I then realized I was standing right under my stand. I almost laughed out loud.

I got settled in my stand, pulled up my gun and loaded it. It’s an hour before shooting time and I try to clear my mind and listen to the woods.  At 8:30a.m, I text my Husband, “c any?”  He responds “nope.”  I respond, “they know it’s opening day.”  Ten minutes later, I spot deer headed my way.  My heart is pounding.  It’s a doe and a knob buck, or as my Husband would say, a button buck.  The doe is unaware of my presence, eats acorns and continually shoes away the knob buck who obviously thinks he is prince charming.  A few minutes later, I hear something coming behind me.  I slowly turn around. It’s a buck with antlers and a doe!  My eyes must have got as big as saucers and my heart kicked into overdrive.  I instantly decided I needed to let them pass.  Then those haunting words crossed my mind, “why didn’t you shoot?” The buck is 30 yards away, turns and begins to take steps away from me.  I grab the call hanging around my neck and softly grunt a couple of times. He turns his head my way and stops.  I only have one viable shot and it’s in the neck.  I raise my gun, click off the safety and shoot.  He dropped right where I shot him. I can’t even describe the joyous feeling. It was overwhelming to say the least.

I finally harvested a deer after years of trying. He had 7 points and weighed 130 pounds field dressed.  My only reservation is that my Husband was not there to witness the harvest and celebrate with me.  My sense, however, is that he would have kept me from shooting given the age of the buck.  In retrospect, I’m glad he wasn’t there.  I am so thankful and proud of this harvest.  I am now pumped up to get back out there!  My goal is to harvest a doe for Farmers and Hunters Feeding the Hungry.  Let’s hope I’m successful.

Robyn Woodruff

Arcadia, Indiana

THE CALL OF THE WILD BOAR…GIGGLING By: Tracey Splechter

Some hunters would say you can’t “call” in wild boar, however my sister and I would disagree.

Our first boar hunting adventure to Oklahoma had been planned for many months.  This would be the first time my twin sister, Stacey would venture into the great outdoors on a hunting trip.  It took many hours of convincing her she would love it if she only gave it a shot!  She took her hunter’s safety course earlier this summer so she was ready and prepared to handle her rifle.  We also spent a few weekends practicing at our homemade rifle range at my home.

The weekend in September finally arrived for us to make the 4.5 hour drive to Oklahoma.  We planned to arrive at the lodge by 4:30 so we could get settled and ready for the next day’s hunt.  Little did we know that once we arrived, we would be in our hunting stand within 30 minutes of unpacking our bags.  We were stoked!  So, it was now 5:15 and we were settled in our stand with our gear and were getting familiar with our new surroundings.  As we sat there, trying to be quiet and watch for game, we couldn’t help the urge to giggle about everything.  Every small noise we made, her breaking her visor, my chair creaking, her cell phone ringing (because she forgot to put it to vibrate) and even the thought of who was going to shoot first, had us rolling.  Well it seemed to work because within 30 minutes of being in our stand, the first pig walks out.  We judged his size and determined he was a shooter but I told her “No way am I shooting the very first thing that walks by us, the very first day and in the first few minutes of hunting.”  She agreed and we watched the boar as he made his way around the feeder and then off into the woods.  Again more giggling and again another boar.  The second pig was quite a bit smaller than the first so we decided we would let this one go as well.  About 30 more minutes passed, several more bouts of laughter and one more hog!  It never failed just as we were at the peak of our giggles, a hog would appear out of the woods.  Was this coincidence or was our giggling working?  We decided we were not letting this one get away, so I readied myself for the shot and she grabbed the video camera.  He made a few passes behind the feeder and then came around to the right and left himself wide open!  KABOOM went my rifle and off ran the pig.  Stacey said, “You missed him, he ran off!”

I told her, “I didn’t miss him, I had a good shot and he is probably just a few yards off in the trees.”  We tried calling the guides to let them know we had a pig down but, in southern Oklahoma our cell phones did not want to cooperate.  However, we did get a text message out to them to let them know to head our direction.  I had made the shot just about 7pm so we had about one hour before dark.  It took the guides a while to arrive and by the time they did it was pitch black outside.  Stacey, being a city girl and all, didn’t want to get out of the truck to help the guides track the pig, but I talked her into it.  We showed the guides the location of where the pig was when I shot and told them the direction in which it ran.  Aaron, a newbie to the outfit, instantly found a trace of blood and was hot on the trail.  It didn’t take him long to find it; my first wild boar!  I was shaking hands and there were high five’s all around.  We loaded the pig in the back of a truck to get him back to the lodge for pictures and processing.  The outfitter has a great set up where you can have the guides processing your animal or you can choose to do so yourself.  While the guides were hard at work, Stacey and I went in to get cleaned up for dinner.  The meals ranged from hamburgers and steaks in the evenings to biscuits and gravy for brunch.  Don, the cook, was amazing!  I would definitely recommend to all hunters to pay the little extra to have your meals prepared for you while hunting.

The next day and a half of hunting proved to be uneventful as the weather was either extremely hot or raining.  It turns out that we shouldn’t have passed up those first two pigs as Stacey never had her chance at taking her first boar.  We still had a great time enjoying nature while relaxing in the comfort of our custom built, elevated stands.  We are planning a trip to go back in late winter of 2011!  This time frame should give her the opportunity for her first kill as well as additional opportunities for myself.

The camp is located near Mill Creek, Oklahoma.  It is a rustic, but very comfortable cabin that can accommodate up to six hunters.  Enjoy satellite TV in the living room or hanging out in the outdoor pavilion, discussing the day’s hunt.  There is a large, fully equipped kitchen for those who choose to cook their own meals.  Hunters can choose from many stand locations dispersed on 8,500 acres of a working cattle ranch.  In the afternoon, you can choose to fish in Pennington Creek for smallmouth bass or jump in the trucks with the guides for a tour of the ranch.  Processing facilities as well as a walk-in cooler are available to store your animal until your hunt is over.  The guides will process your animal for you for a small fee and help pack it for the drive home.  The guides are all very knowledgeable about the land and the game as well as very friendly.  I would recommend this destination to anyone looking for a quality hog, deer or turkey hunt!

Just remember the next time you are sitting in your stand and not having any luck, try it…giggle.

September’s Woman of the Wild~Jana Waller

I grew up fishing and hunting pheasants and waterfowl with my Father in Wisconsin.  During my teen years several road trips were made to South Dakota where we enjoyed cornfields bursting with pheasants.   It wasn’t until 1993, when I was a Senior in college, that I picked up my first bow.  My Dad had started bowhunting that same year and after successfully helping him track his first whitetail buck through a muddy cornfield,  I knew I wanted a taste of that exhilaration.  Addicted to bowhunting ever since,  my obsession has only been fueled by the success I’ve found in the past decade.  I’ve been blessed to arrow  6 whitetail bucks in the past 8 years and have recently expanded my hunting horizons to include bowhunting Africa, Canada and the Western states.

In terms of passions, fishing comes in at a close second.  Growing up with dozens of lakes within an hour’s drive,  a weekend often included some type of fishing.  From panfish to pike, I love it all and have been blessed to fish all over the world.  Whether it’s reef fishing in Bermuda to trolling the Canadian shores for Northern Pike, I love the anticipation and excitement, but also the relaxation, that come with spending time on the water.  Fly fishing is a new found love of mine as well and look forward to fly fishing adventures in Argentina and Brazil.

After graduating college in 1993 from UW-Whitewater with a bachelor’s degree in Public Relations, I spent many years working in outside sales and as a marketing associate in an Investment Firm.  In 2008 I embarked on a new career and launched  www.paintedskulls.com where I custom paint, stone and feather European mounts for customers.  That same year I started free lance writing for hunting websites and publications.  Many of my articles, product reviews and photographs can be seen regularly on womenhunters.com and bowhunting.net as well as in publications such as Bowhunter Magazine, Iowa’s Family Fish and Game Magazine and the 2010 Prois Hunting Apparel catalog.  I also am on staff   with a variety of hunting companies including Prois, Commando Hunting Products and Honey Creek Outdoors.  Luck was in my corner this year when I was casted to be a participant on the award-winning show ‘Ammo&Attitude’ which airs on the Versus channel.   I’m also currently filming a pilot show with a major network  featuring my skull business and my passion for hunting and conservation.

Everyday I’m  appreciative of the challenge, beauty, diversity and comraderee that hunting and fishing have  brought to my life.  From the South Dakota road trips as a kid, to float plane adventures into the Canadian wilderness, I can thank my Dad for my passion towards the Great Outdoors and my Mom for encouraging me to follow my dreams.

My first buck-by Deborah Fox

After multiple weekends of whining and feeling sorry for myself; my many years in the woods finally paid off.  I hate to admit it, but I’d been whining. I was sick of hearing myself, and I know my husband would agree. It seemed that no matter what I did to hide my scent, be quiet, and make as few movements as possible, my cover would be blown!

We’d been hunting in Georgia for a few years with some “good ole’ boys” who had some “freezer” success but no real bragging rights. As the only female hunting on the property I didn’t really get a warm & fuzzy welcome from the other male hunters. At one point they even asked my husband, “Do you bring her every weekend?” He smartly replied, “I wouldn’t think of leaving her at home, she’s a better shot than me!”

The moon had been full or close to it for several nights so the deer had been doing most of their feeding then. There had been signs of rutting activity for a few days, and my husband witnessed several bucks chasing a doe.  As they raced past him, he spun around so quickly that he broke the chair he was sitting in. But that’s for another story.

We made the decision to sleep in the next morning.  We ate a big breakfast and head to the stands around 9:00am. We had plans to stay all day instead of breaking at noon for lunch and maybe catch some bucks wondering mid-day.

I had been in my ladder stand five minutes when I heard the fateful blow of an alerted deer behind me. I was so close to climbing down and going back to bed! But not wanting to mess up my husband’s hunt, I stuck it out.  I’m really glad I did.

Ten minutes later I noticed some movement inside the wood line about 85 yards in front of me.  I picked up my binoculars and scanned the edge to find out if it was a “shooter”. I caught the glimpse of an antler and my heart started to pound. I carefully raised my gun and tried to locate the buck in my scope. Where was he? Every time I looked in the scope I couldn’t locate him through the saplings and briars. I could only see him with the naked eye. I was really getting nervous! I thought back to the past few weeks and all the blown opportunities. I was sure if I didn’t get it together soon this would be added to the list. I took a deep breath and looked back in the scope one more time and found his front legs. Eureka! Just above that is his chest! I slowly moved my gun up until I found his front right shoulder and pulled the trigger on my 30-06. All four legs went in the air in the classic bucking motion. I had made contact! He broke into the field and headed straight for me. This is when I realized he wasn’t just a buck he was the biggest buck I’d seen in the woods, and the first one I’d shot at! I rapidly pumped my gun and fired off four more shots. He came to rest about fifteen feet behind my stand. I quickly grabbed another clip and slammed it into the gun. I wasn’t going to take a chance that he might get back up. He wiggled a little and I shot him again. Once I was confident he wasn’t going anywhere the celebrating began. Later I was told that I was heard on the other side of the property hoopin’ and hollerin’! My husband keyed up his two-way radio and asked if I was ok, and if I had one down. I confirmed that it was big but he should continue to hunt. I still had no idea the magnitude of what I had just accomplished. He waited about ten minutes but couldn’t stand the anticipation and headed my way.  By then I had finally stopped shaking and felt confident enough to safely climb down out of the stand.  I stood there for what seemed an eternity just staring at the magnificent animal in front of me. When my husband arrived he congratulated me with a hug and a tear. I then said to him, “Don’t even think about telling me I’m not getting it mounted!”

I’m very blessed to have found someone who enjoys the sport as much as I do and that we were able to share this moment together. The only thing that would have made it greater was if my Dad, who introduced me to hunting could have been there too.

As we started to drag the deer out of the woods my husband noticed there were only two shots in the deer. The first shot and the last shot. The first being the fatal one and the last was my nervous one….right into tenderloin, which to this day my husband won’t let me forget!

When we returned to camp we discovered there had been multiple deer shot that morning including an 8 point, a 6 point, and several does.  But nothing came close to my 11 point. Those “good ole’ boys ”  were in awe of what the “girl” had harvested. The president of the club said it was the largest buck shot on the property in 20 years. The guy who shot the 8 point couldn’t stop rubbing the antlers of my deer. He said he was really happy with his deer until he saw mine.

After all the congratulating my husband and I took my deer to a local “stop n shop” that had a scale to get it weighed. As they began to hoist it up the last number I read was 185 lbs before the scale blew apart. It might have weighed more than that but I’ll never know.

He now proudly hangs in our home on what I like to call my “Wall of Fame” along with two of the biggest fish I’ve ever caught.

I’ve always looked forward to deer season beginning, but since that October morning in 2005 things have been a lot different.

August’s Woman of the Wild-Darla Kaarre

I grew up a native Montanan…fourth generation in a family line of outdoor people…forest service packers, ranchers, homesteaders, outfitters etc.  My mom and dad are outfitters and I spent alot of time growing up in that business.  The family all hunted…I took hunter’s safety as a kid and back in those days you could take a pocket knife to school in your pocket.

I had mine in my pocket so could take it to hunter’s safety class at night (I was in sixth grade) and show it off and let everyone know that since I owned a knife I could survive in the woods.  Well I lost it that day somewhere on the playground and never had another pocket knife till I was well into my thirties.  So even though I grew up with hunters all around me and worked in the outfitting business cooking for hunting camps and even helping drag game out of the field, I never hunted.

I went off to college, got a bachelor’s and masters degree in education, found this wonderful man to marry, had children and when the only boy got his first hunting license in Wisconsin (lived in the mid west for about 20 years) then my husband Marty really got into hunting.  So Randy (son) and Marty would hunt every year and get deer for me. I love venison!  I loved ‘cutting up meat’ and putting it in the freezer…but still never hunted.

About nine years ago my family and I moved back out to Montana…the northwest corner…back to my home stomping grounds.  I finally decided after the first year back that I would like to try my hand at this hunting business!  So I borrowed a gun that was given to my mom by my great uncle ( a nice wood stock pretty looking 308).  I didn’t know one gun from another at that point and still don’t know much, but am learning as I get more into hunting.  So eight falls ago I borrowed that gun and haven’t yet returned it and have now carried it many many miles up and down mountains and through woods.  The first year that I picked up the gun from my mom and dad’s house, I asked dad if I could hunt along the creek on his property back down to my house.  He said sure.  About 15 minutes later, down off the hill came a nice doe…it was early doe season so I took my first shot.

I hit her and watched where she ran and waited the allotted time and then went to find her. Followed the tracks and blood trails.  Retraced and started over and turned over every scenario in my mind.  Never did find her…went up to dad’s since it was dark. He said he would go with me first thing in the morning.  He did and we found her a few hours later…about a mile and a half away on a circuitous route.  I learned so much from my dad that day.  I had such a valuable resource around me, all those years of growing up and no interest back then.

That day turned out to be an education about being in the woods.  The doe was great food for scavengers that year but not so good for my freezer.  Dad encouraged me and told me similar stories from his lifetime hunting experiences.  I hunted the rest of the season and got nothing.  So I kept trying through the years and learning more each year.

I missed a nice buck at about 40 yards…even after a smart hunting strategy and waiting patiently for him to get close enough and not see or smell me.  Sat in the snow and cried about that one and was never going to hunt again.  My husband, son and Dad kept encouraging me.  Spent more seasons loving the ‘hunt’ and the whole being in the woods and observing animals and their behavior scene.

Each year I would learn some valuable lesson to apply the next year.  I could sit still enough that a coyote sniffing out something got within seven feet of me and finally I said ‘well hello there’ as that close was beginning to feel just a bit close. There was the time my son took me hunting in the early years of my new passion and we had a buck standing looking at us for ‘hours’ and any one other than the inexperienced mom would have gotten off a good clean shot.  I couldn’t find the deer in the rifle scope so couldn’t shoot.  The deer got tired of waiting for me to shoot it so finally it wandered away much to the incredulity of my son.  “Mom you could have just pointed and shot and not missed that one it was so close.”

I’ve provided many funny mom hunting stories.  I have my favorite ‘angel deer’ that flew through the thick woods miraculously because it was so thick and dark and his rack was so huge there was no way he could leap as far and as long as he did through the woods and find a path out without getting entangled…but he did of course!   There was the doe I shot and stunned and who laid on the ground for most of the waiting time and just before I was to approach to make sure she was meat for the freezer jumped up and ran off like nothing had ever happened.  My dad and I again spent a day looking for her.  Never found her nor any blood trail expect two spots right where she dropped when I stunned her.

My ‘failures’ to put meat in my freezer were disappointing but kept me motivated also to keep learning and trying.  So finally after six or so ‘unsuccessful’ seasons of hunting I shot my first deer last fall…a nice muley that I hiked miles and miles up in the mountains to get.  He was so big  we couldn’t drag him off the mountain. We had to field dress him and back pack him out of the woods.  Good thing we did…a grizzly was eating his rib cage when we went back the next day to check out if the rest of the deer were still in the same area.

We had more tags to fill!  My husband was with me the day of my first hunting success….he did all the cutting up for packing out and all that.  I helped where needed.  It was all a spiritual experience for me…the hunt, the shooting, the waiting, the butchering, the gratitude for it all.  But even more exciting for me was that four days later while hunting completely on my own, I successfully filled my doe tag after doing things ‘right’ and figured out how to gut her out and all that.  I had to get my dad to come with his truck to haul her home and he said to me in his quiet voice…”You’re getting to be quite the huntress!’  For my 76 year old dad, my getting deer and carrying on his life joys was one of the coolest things for him.  So, having spent years learning some about hunting, I finally had a ‘successful’ season last fall.  I was able to put my first package of meat in the freezer that was identified as “Darla’s muley backstraps–nov ’09″.  We mark all our meat by who gets it, where and when.  It makes for great meal time stories and we are reminded of where our food comes from and for what cost.  One of the funnest moments of last year’s hunt was taking a picture of the first package of meat to go in the freezer with my name on it!

I’m looking forward to this fall and hunting season and have been checking out the deer habits in the area and have my licenses all ready…my son in law got me a new scope…my son got me a real hunting knife after learning that I gutted my doe with a Finnish fillet knife.  I will still use the same family rifle but I may need to get my own hunting clothes…I’ve been borrowing my son’s while he has been four years in the Marines.  He returns this September 13…in time for early season wilderness hunting!  So Camp Wild Girl’s show me your stuff for women’s wear!!

So that is my hunting story…my youngest daughter Elly (10 in a few days) enjoys joining me in the hungt and will be able to start hunting in two years if she so chooses.  She is a great outdoors girl.  She lead a hike of 18 people to the top of a mountain lookout yesterday here in our corner of God’s country.  In addition to hunting, I love being involved in passing on the wonders of the outdoor world by running an outdoor ministry.  So yesterday we finished off an outdoor retreat by hiking to the lookout and viewing the wonders of the mountains with a 360 degree view.  We are a non profit ministry that believes that we can live out and pass on spiritual principles in the outdoors.  We believe that challenge, growth and renewal happen through adventure in the world God provided for us to enjoy.  We do children, youth, family, women, and men’s adventure retreats.  We do hunting and fishing retreats.  We go hiking, rafting, horseback riding, rock climbing, study, site seeing, camping, backpacking, and other outdoor activities.  Each experience is used to teach spiritual principles.  Each retreat is custom designed to meet the needs of the group that joins us. Growing up in the outfitting business, getting into education and marrying a pastor, have all come together to create a ministry that brings growth and renewal to lots of people…whether they are participants or whether they find a job in which they come out to help at a retreat.  If you’d like to find out about our ministry go to athelasoutdoor.org.  You can also find us on facebook at Athelas Outdoor Ministry, Inc.

Guru Huntress: ThermaCell on … mosquitoes off!

I have a thermacell that I won at a sporting event. I took it hunting this spring for Turkey and they do work great. Here is Nancy Jo’s review on the WON.

Guru Huntress: ThermaCell on … mosquitoes off!.

May’s Woman of the Wild-Gretchen Steele

“In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life, — no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes), which nature cannot repair.”

This quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson was taught to me by mother many, many, years ago, where I was barely big enough to remember it, let alone really fully appreciate it. Thanks to the countless hours that she, my uncles and others let me tag along with them on their adventures in the woods, the lakes, the rivers and the streams of southern Illinois, I soon developed a passion for being “In the Woods.”

I developed a passion for being outside, knee deep in all that the outdoors had to offer. It seems that it didn’t really take all that long and I too felt that in the woods I could return to reason and faith.

Growing up in Southern Illinois put me in the enviable position of always just being a few minutes away from open fields, high bluffs, hardwood forests and the rivers, lakes, and sloughs.

Here I chased rabbits, quail and pheasants, deer, turkey and dove. I ran trotlines, turtle lines and traps.  I marked my days not by the calendar but by the seasons – root digging season, morel season, time to harvest the plants….watching the incoming migratory waterfowl in the fall, gauging time by the changes in the creatures and the landscape.  I am forever grateful that both of my parents and my extended family passed down to me the traditions of living wild.

Not only are we meat hunters in this household, and eat a great deal of wild game and fish, I also forage for wild foods and the medicinal plants and roots.  Many a frantic neighborhood mother with crying toddler has stopped by for mullein oil to soothe the earache. A diabetic friend uses the comfrey infusion to heal wounds on his feet that traditional medicine couldn’t.

Because I was raised by parents who lived in the through the Depression, nothing goes to waste and nothing is taken for granted. “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without. “  was a common phrase in our household growing up and continues in my home today.  I learned early on that as long we remained good stewards of the land and conservationists, the forest and the fields could provide for us.

I never take a harvest for granted – taking a moment to thank the deer, the turkey, the rabbit or squirrel that gave up its life so I could have a tasty meal in the crock pot. I count my blessings when I find a big mushroom flush or huge patch of ginseng, golden seal and blood root.

Although hunting with firearms and bows  became somewhat curtailed for me over ten years ago when I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, and my upper body strength and coordination started disappear I realized with the help of a great occupational therapist that truly, I could still hunt, only with a camera. I could still fish – it was good exercise for those often uncooperative upper limbs, I could still hike, I just had to build rest periods into the plan for the day.

I’ve become an ace at ferreting out places that on tough days I can take the scooter down the trail, and have developed a network of friends who always happy to accompany  me on the days I’m not so sure I should be climbing up a bluff  or out setting turtle lines alone.

Do not be fooled – hunting with a camera entails just as much as hunting with weapons. I track, I pattern, I lie in wait…sit in stands, hide in blinds, and lay out in the snowy winter fields with the waterfowl hunters waiting on the geese to come flying into the spread.

I’m very proud that I was asked to be on the Board of Directors for Hunters With Disabilities (www.hwd2010.com) . Through this organization we able to bring both the able bodied and disabled hunting community together through a mutual love of the outdoors, and an understanding that for so many of us our time outside, our time in the woods is vital to our well being. The forests and the fields are our “dirt church”.

The MS diagnosis was my “aha moment”  when I decided that I would chuck my career as a public health nurse and focus on spending as much time as possible as long as possible in the forests and the fields.  Ten odd years down the road and I have a successful photography business that specializes in outdoor, hunting, and wildlife photography and a budding career as outdoor writer and blogger.  I’ve been added as pro staff / official photographer at several hunt clubs and hunting or fishing organizations. This has allowed me to network and build even more friendships with others who enjoy their time outside.  My mentors have been many and I have been truly blessed in that arena.

Finally as I approach the ripe old age of 50 it seems I’ve found my place in the world and it’s in the woods!

Please visit my blogs  and my web site to have a peek at my life these days.

Steele Photo Services – www.steelephotoservices.com

Through the Lens – hosted at Prairie State Outdoors www.Prairiestateoutdoors.com

In the Forests and the Fields – http://siloforests.blogspot.com/

As well as my second home on the internet – Southern Illinois Outdoors – www.siloutdoors.com

April’s Woman of the Wild-McKinzie Ledbeter

By~McKinzie Ledbeter

Ever since I can remember, I have been out hunting with my family.  If my dad was not taking me with him it was my grandpa.  My mom always was stuck taking my sisters.  I have three sisters, I am the oldest and we all big game hunt. Every time I was able to go, I was already in the truck ready and waiting.

I finally got my first buck with a rifle when I was eleven. My dad patted me on the back told me great job, smiled really big and told me I probably just got the biggest deer I’ll ever get.  It was a dandy 4 x4 with eye guards!  He was tall and wide and me standing next to it made that deer look that much bigger.  The following year my dad and I made the longest, hardest stock on this nice buck, didn’t really know how big he was at the time but he beat my buck from the year before. My dad just shook his head and laughed.  That same year I got a nice 4×5 elk.  That was a good year for me!

I think I’ve done pretty good over the years, I’ve put in my time and I’ve gotten some nice shots and nice animals. I still remember every year when I was just starting out my dad would always remind my sisters and I why we hunted. Hunting wasn’t about the size of the horns, it’s for putting meat on the table.  We’ve never hunted for horns and I never have passed up a nice shot opportunity whether it was a two by three or a four by four.

I just started bow hunting three years ago.  My first year I had my opportunities but just couldn’t get that shot I was looking for.  My second year I shot a doe right through the pumper, I thought bow hunting was awesome. Getting my first deer with a bow made rifle-hunting feel as if I just won a basket of fruit or something.  There is no comparison bow hunting for me is like winning a sweet pair of Swarovski binos!  I love hunting!  The only reason why my dad wasn’t with me for my first buck with my bow was because he told me he didn’t want to have to deliver my baby in the mountains.

I got my buck 3×2 in early archery season Sept. 5, 2009. I was a week over due. On the way down off the hill I told Walter he needed to get me off this hill RIGHT NOW!  About 5 minutes later as we were headed down off the hill to the hospital I saw my buck and told him to stop.  He thought I was having a really bad contraction and asked how I was feeling.

I told him before we started on our way again I wanted to shoot this buck I had spotted!  He couldn’t see it because it was on my side, down the hill about 40 yards. He looked at me with confusion.  We got out, I grab my bow, asked him how far it was. He wasn’t taking me serious at all. He thought I was playing a joke on him. Finally he realized I wasn’t messing around, and really did want to shoot this buck, he ranged it at 44 yards.

When I shot at the buck, it went just under him. As I headed off of the road, I asked if there was a road below us.  He told me yes.

Without even thinking about how far the road could be below me away, I went to go find my arrow and look for blood just in case. I thought maybe I could find that buck one last time.  One thing I did know, before jumped off the beaten trail was, there is no way in hell I was hiking back up.

As I took off, I told Walt, I was not leaving without this deer. When I had made it to where the deer was standing I found his tracks and followed them down to the next road.  The deer had crossed the road but I stayed there to wait for the truck to come down to meet me. As I waited for my partner to meet me I scoped it out hoping to see my buck.  Low and behold, there he was about two hundred yards away eating his way back up to the road that I was on and two other bucks had joined him.  A three point and a little two point.  After Walter finally got to me I told him that there were three bucks and I wanted to try and get one still.

Walter asked about my contractions and I looked at him puzzled and said, “What contractions?  We’re hunting!”  With all the adrenaline I had forgotten about them. He did not argue with me, he knew there’s no point arguing with a pregnant woman.

We walked the road to get closer to the deer.  They were feeding right up to the road, so we just waited and watched them for about half an hour.  After about half hour, they were within 50 yards still a little far for my little bow.  Then all of a sudden, the little two point that we could not shoot bolted straight up at us. After he did that, we got nervous that he would wind us and take off taking the other two with him.  We both looked at each, we could read each other’s minds we knew then take our one clear shot or don’t get any.  By that time, the two bucks were 40 yards.

Walter told me to hold a little high because I shot low the last time and when I did I got him in the spine and he fell right in his tracks.  Walter took off after the second one and got him a half hour later while I waited with my deer.  We packed them out as fast as we could to try to beat the dark, but it got dark anyway.

I got home that night happy as could be. I had hunted that whole season every minute I could.  Finally, I got my deer!  That next morning I was really on my way to the hospital this time! I had my baby almost exactly two days after shooting the buck.  I love hunting so much my son’s middle name is Hunter!

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.

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.

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..

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!!

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