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!!

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

February’s “Woman of the Wild”- Jennifer L. Metzker!

When I was a small girl, I remember going to my uncle’s property to hunt deer, turkey, dove, quail, etc with my family. I loved being out in the woods, running free, watching the wildlife. My dad would take me to hunting camp, despite the comments from the older members; dad would put me in the woods with my grandfather’s Smith & Wesson model 1000 shotgun and say, “sit still and good luck”! I only ever shot one doe, and we never found her…I was heart broken.

As the years went by, the family grew apart. I found myself driving my very old Grandfather to hunting camp, just so I could get another chance at another deer.  No Luck, I grew older as did the relatives, and there was no one to take me hunting, but you could always find me outdoors either at the horse shows or at the mud hole, which is where I met my husband of 19 years.

Bryan has been a hunter all his life and we kicked it off immediately.  We married, had a son and moved to North Carolina and had our second son. Bryan joined a Hunting club in Georgia, that we are still apart of to this day. It was at this club with my husband, that I really learned how to hunt. I was taught how to watch and “let the deer get closer” and where to put a stand, etc. I harvested my first doe on that club, weighing in at 120 lbs, while my husband sat in the truck with the boys watching a clear cut. That was it, I was really hooked! No, I wasn’t the first woman in camp to hunt, but I was the first to hunt as hard as the men do.  Sure, I have heard the same questions over the years; “How do you do it”? My only answer to that was “How can you not”? The woods are my sanctuary. Things always seem clear when I’m in the woods. And I have seen some wonderful things in the woods!

Over the years, I have harvested some nice deer and I’m always proud of whatever I do harvest. I hunt Alligator, Turkey, Deer, Ducks, Coyotes, Fox and Bobcat. I am open to try anything once. I fly fish in the spring and summer months but hunting is always on my mind.

I have been married for 19 years to my “hunting mentor” lol, Bryan. We have two sons, Bryan Jr. and Boone. Bryan Jr. is currently in the Navy and fishes and duck hunts with us when he takes leave. Boone is in the woods and water with us all the time and has become quite the hunter.  I know a lot of other ladies that hunt hard like me and I love meeting other lady hunters.

Jennifer L. Metzker

Jan 2010’s “Woman of the Wild”-Kim Pezzeminti

Kim Pezzeminti, explorer, huntress and creator of things.

“Woman of the Wild” could not be a more perfect description for this explorer!  As a young girl, I would create some of the most amazing places in the wild of the outdoors.  The most memorable is of my playhouse underneath a GREAT big maple tree!  The dirt floor was swept daily and the luscious and green moss became the carpeted areas of this delectable place.  I served mud pies topped with the flowers of the Forsythia bush.  My Grandmother Ruby would always be there to assist in my projects.  I credit her for blessing me with creativity.  She taught be how to see pictures in the clouds and how to make something out of nothing. (Which by the way has been a wonderful trait to have through my adult years!)

My Mother and Father are also very instrumental in the development of my creativity Through many years of camping, seeing, doing and just sharing added the element of honesty and integrity.  My Dad would take me fishing atop Mowbry Mountain near Chattanooga, Tennessee.  I caught my first 3 pound bass on a Zebco 202 rod and reel and I was hooked.  I began to scream to my Dad across the pond…”Daddy, Daddy, Daddy” as I drug the most incredible, awesome fish ashore.  Daddy came just a running and was so proud of me!  I went home, took my hands up to my Mom’s nose and said smell…I caught a fish!

As I grew and developed into a woman, all of these experiences and skills would ultimately become the foundation for my work world success.  After spending almost 20 years in the tile industry, I found it ironic that I was selling “baked dirt” for a living. (Hmmm, thank you mud pie).  I was able to work with ceramic engineers from France, Italy and Spain to take clays, silica sand and glazes to make beautiful tiles for homes and buildings around the world.  This job also enabled me to travel where I was constantly in sensory overload!  As this Tennessee girl traveled to the West, it was if she had found her home.  Wyoming became the place that every chance I got, I would go there, place my feet into the vast forests and just be on cloud nine.  The grand mountains would bring my creativity out like flowing lava from a volcano!  I spent several summers in the Teton National Forest on Horseback and I never returned the same person.  I am so thankful for these days in the woods.

As I traveled, I became the Platinum Princess on Delta Airlines.  Spending over 200 nights a year in a hotel was quite and experience.  I never knew what I would receive from all these frequent flyer miles but I found out a little over four years ago…the award was my darling and precious soul mate.  As we sat side by side on a flight from Las Vegas to Atlanta (thank you Delta) we talked about deer hunting, which I had never done, but my Dad loved to deer and turkey hunt.  I told him about the back strap my Dad cooked every Christmas morning.  Needless to say, this was love at first flight!

We married 2 years later on the Bell Tower of the Hotel Colorado ( Interestingly, this hotel became the White House of President Teddy Roosevelt, while he bear hunted…I think I must have felt his love of the West) then we jumped in our jeans and headed Elk Hunting for our Honeymoon.  My hunting buddy taught me to shoot my first gun and ultimately harvesting my first deer.  We make being in the WILD a priority for our extra curricular activities.  I escorted my husband on this 50^th birthday celebration to Namibia, Africa where I watched my mentor focus and harvest.  We have Elk Hunted together in Colorado and Wyoming.  Our most favorite place is our hunting camp in Georgia where we work on the many aspects of the Whitetail Deer.  Living now in Merritt Island, Florida, we are anxious to someday find a little cabin hidden in the woods where I can sit on my porch and listen to the creatures sing their songs.

Once again my experiences would take hold of my creativity and I from this my company Doeville would be born.   This is a place for women to come and capture items created by women and made in the USA.  The products and artists are a direct result of my many years of traveling and meeting people all over the world.  Our tag line is “Accessorize Your Spirit” which is what the places in the wild have done for my spirit!

My message to all women is to explore, not only places but also within you.  There are many treasures to be found!

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.

Join us for the Battle of the B.O.W.

Week 4 is under our belt and we are leading very handily thanks to all of the help we are getting from our followers! We couldn’t do it without all of you! We are shooting the pilot for the show on Saturday and I will let you know how it goes! Thanks everyone!

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