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
See the original article at CampWildGirls.com
Friends That Sprinkle Friends In Doe Tinkle
Nancy Jo Adams “ Shenanigans from the Field
I know our paths will cross sometime in the future and we will meet in person¦however, I do know it is highly unlikely it will be in THE WOODS!…
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
Vote for Team HuntingLife.com!
The voting has begun. You can rate each team once a day. Click here to vote!
See the original article at CampWildGirls.com
Battle of the Bow Premiere
Tonight on the Sportsman Channel is the new 13 week series, Battle of the Bow where 10 - 2 person teams from Wisconsin document their recent hunting season. What I find interesting, as mentioned on…
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
December Woman of the Wild
Holly Heyser
Holly A. Heyser, hunting blogger and college lecturer
I am pretty much the last person anyone “ including myself “ would have expected to take up hunting. I was born in Southern California and have spent all of my adult life in urban areas. After college, I spent 19 years as a newspaper reporter and editor (Orange County Register, San Jose Mercury News, St. Paul Pioneer Press, Virginian-Pilot, Sacramento Bee) before leaving the business in 2006 to teach journalism at my alma mater, California State University, Sacramento. Reporter. Professor.
Urbanite. Not someone you think of as a gunner.
But I have always craved unusual experiences, and hunting started worming its way into my realm of possibility back when I was in my late 30s. I was living in St. Paul, Minnesota, with my boyfriend Hank Shaw, and we were both working for the St. Paul Pioneer Press. We had befriended the hunting and fishing writer there “ Chris Niskanen “ and what he did was really piquing Hank s interest. One day Hank announced that he wanted to take up hunting. That s fine, I said. He s a cook, so I knew he d eat what he d kill, which was my threshold of acceptance for hunting.
He was really getting into it, spending a lot of time out in the woods, and pretty soon he started asking if I d like to join him. I didn t, because I was busy training for marathons at that point, and I rightfully concluded that I couldn t fit two activities that intense into my weekends. But a couple years later we moved to Sacramento, and I stopped running, and I finally said I was ready to join him. My first hunt was a pheasant hunt, but what really grabbed me was duck hunting. Half of the ducks in the Pacific Flyway spend their winter in the Sacramento Valley about an hour north of us, and the duck hunting can be amazing. I will hunt anything that I m willing to eat “ pheasants, turkeys, wild boar, deer “ but there s just something about ducks. They re fast, the marshy terrain is challenging and the worse the weather, the better the hunting. I love a challenge. And ducks taste divine. Duck is by far my favorite meat, followed closely by wild boar.
I very quickly dedicated myself to my new pursuit. I had just started my teaching job and was overjoyed when I realized my winter break covered the last six weeks of duck season, so when Hank was working, I d drive up to one of my favorite wildlife refuges and head out into the marsh myself, determined to teach myself how to actually hit these birds. (Three years later, I m sorta kinda getting the hang of it.)
A year to the day after I fired my shotgun for the first time ever, I started a blog about hunting, NorCal Cazadora (www.norcalcazadora.com). NorCal stands for Northern California, and cazadora is Spanish for huntress. I figured no one would care what a novice hunter had to say, but boy was I wrong. I quickly found that even the most veteran hunters enjoyed the frustration-filled tales of trying to learn how to do this hunting stuff right. Since, then, I ve expanded a bit and have begun writing for magazines including California Waterfowl, Delta Waterfowl and Turkey Country, and I ve done quite a few hunting stories for the Sacramento Bee, which has shown amazing openness to hunting.
I ve also taken up photography, and do a lot of food photos for my boyfriend, who started a blog shortly after I did “ Hunter Angler Gardener Cook (www.honest-food.net) “ and writes for a variety of food magazines. I ll be doing photography for his upcoming book as well.
Writing and photography has opened many doors. I ve begun doing a lot of volunteer work for California Waterfowl, which graciously honored me with its Artemis Award this year. And I ve made friends all over the country and world, which means if I can afford a plane ticket someplace, I could probably find someone to hunt with there. I feel incredibly blessed.
Probably the biggest blessing, though, is having been able to enter the hunting world in the first place. I was not naïve about where food came from before I started hunting “ I spent some time in the country as a kid, and my family raised a lot of animals for meat. But participating in food, nature and the cycle of life at this level has been a revelation, and it has improved both what I eat and how much I appreciate it exponentially. So many things had to fall into place to get me here: meeting Hank, moving to Minnesota, befriending Chris. There are any number of different choices I could have made that would have put me on a different path. But I got lucky, and I m incredibly grateful for that.
See the original article at CampWildGirls.com
See the original article at GotHunts.com
LIVING!
LIVING!
When in our lives do we become who we are? Is it from the moment we take our first breath, Is it as an adolescent, a young adult.. Or do we really ever become one decided person? I believe we are who we are simply because we are meant to be that person. In our lives we are sometimes fortunate to meet people who change our lives forever. Sometimes for the good and sometimes not so good.
I was blessed to be raised by my parents; mom always made sure we were well fed, loved and still wishes the best for her children. Dad made certain that we were immersed in the wild places and nurtured my natural desire to become part of the natural order of things. My best friend in my youth John roamed the mountains of Montana with me making memories along the way, although we are no longer friends those memories still remain. Ladies I have known, some broke my young heart, some captured it¦ while my soul mate and life partner Stacey WON it through true love and absolute devotion. I have buried good friends and cried at the loss, I have made enemies who will last a lifetime and friends who will last even longer.
My children are my most perfect accomplishment, yet I see my own flaws in them and wonder if they will be able to cope with all that lies before them. I see my strengths in them as well and am proud of their ability to enjoy life and all it has to offer, no matter what befalls them. I secretly hope for them all there is to see, do and experience, yet I wish they would always stay close by. I have a hand full of friends who I believe in and who believe in me, a select few who I would give my life for and who I am sure would return the favor. I am a hunter and most of my friends and family are hunters as well, yet there are those close to my heart and immersed in my life who would never harvest an animal.
Yes brothers and sisters of the bow, life is an ever changing ride. I am sure mine will change, evolve and I look forward to every moment I get to experience it. Thanks to those who have joined my circle on this journey we all share, and to those who may be a part of it in the future.
May every day be blessed with fine hunting, every hunt be filled with adventure and every adventure be filled with enjoyment. And may every twist and turn of this journey we call life be intertwined with one another, as we all strive toward a common goal… To not simply exist but to LIVE!!!!! Hawk
Mike “Hawk” Huston
November s Woman of the Wild Sarah Calhoun
Sarah Calhoun- Founder of Red Ants Pants.
Since college I ve wanted to start hunting. I think it s important to know where our food comes from. Having grown up on a farm I d had to opportunity to help butcher pigs and chickens so I had that experience, but I wanted the wild game experience as well. When I moved to White Sulphur Springs, Montana, the hunting opportunities were endless. I bought my first rifle in 2004, a Remington 30-06 with a Winchester bolt. I ve been lucky enough to harvest a mule deer every year since, but the elk have continued to elude me. We ll see how this season goes!
Sarah has started her own company called Red Ants Pants (work pants for women) and travels the country doing the Tour de Pants. Here is a poem about that.
| On a farm where Sarah was raised, Playing outside she spent her days. One time she fell and started to cry. What a bummer, she thought, these should have lasted longer. On summer breaks from college, she helped her Dad with the hay. Instructing for Outward Bound, she led kids in the woods. Next she led trail crews for the SCA. When her back wore out she settled in Montana, She peeled logs and groomed ski trails to bring in some money. At a coffee shop one day, she read her How to Start a Business book. He asked her what she was doing, so she told him her thought; This wasn t just any man “ as it turned out. For twenty years, production and design had been his career. With contacts and advice, Sarah was well on her way. |
|
You may be asking, why the name Red Ants Pants?
See the original article at CampWildGirls.com
NorCalCazadora takes her first deer!
The great shock: I finally got my first deer! by Holly Heyser
I GOT A DEER! I GOT A DEER! I GOT A DEER!
I shouted the words into the cell phone this morning, struggling to share the news with Boyfriend as the bars kept disappearing from my screen. Redial. Signal lost. Redial again. Ring ring ring.
I GOT A DEER!
He got it that time.
I went out this morning like I do on all hunts “ simultaneously fantasizing about the perfect hunt and bracing for the big goose-egg.
The latter is a good strategy for blacktail hunting in California, which has the lowest success rate of all wild game hunting in the state. But I actually had some reason to be optimistic today.
First of all, unlike last weekend s hunt with Phillip in the Mendocino National Forest, I was on private land. It was only 50 acres, but it was 50 acres that hasn t been hunted in who knows how long, and I had it all to myself.
Second of all, unlike last weekend when we did not see one single legal buck, I d already seen several on this land. But let me back up for a second.
Boyfriend and I were actually supposed to be hunting wild boar here. Owners John and Peg Poswall were going out in the mornings and finding their landscaping all dug up. Peg knows Boyfriend through the food world, and she thought her hunter friend might be able to help alleviate their problem.
The only hitch was that they had never seen the pigs during the day, which we knew might be an insurmountable obstacle “ you can t hunt pigs at night. But John mentioned that they had tons of deer that we were also welcome to hunt, so I picked up a deer tag Thursday morning.
When I arrived Friday afternoon ahead of Boyfriend, John took me on a tour of the property and I found tons of pig sign and deer sign. At the end of the ride, I even saw several legal bucks (forked-horn or better) skitter across their fence. Sweet!
Boyfriend and I spent the night and when we got up the next morning, I took him to a spot where I d found a pretty good pig trail. We perched on some boulders and waited to see what would come, but nothing did. Then I looked up the hill and noticed deer munching on cypress trees on a walkway leading to a fountain. They were about 180 yards away.
I angled up the rock for a better shooting position and one of the bucks in the group turned broadside. My heart raced. My bipod shooting stick was too low. My position was awkward and unsteady. In the early-morning light, I couldn t see clearly what was behind the buck (I think it might ve been a chicken coop, but there were lots of marble statues in the vicinity that had me just as worried). And on top of all that, it was 180 yards away “ a little far for me. The buck moved behind a tree, and then the whole group trotted off and the opportunity was gone.
Boyfriend totally would ve taken that shot “ and made it “ so I felt like a moron for holding back. But he was nice enough about it. If it doesn t feel right, you shouldn t do it, he said.
We decided to take a quiet walk around the property so I could show him other promising spots I d seen. As we walked along a creek at the bottom of a hill, we bumped four does on the open hillside above us. Then we went to a pond where pigs had been wreaking havoc. By this time, it was getting pretty late and we began talking in normal tones instead of a whisper. We figured we d spend the rest of the morning mushroom hunting.
You know what we haven t seen yet? he asked.
What?
A rabbit.
And just then, something burst away from us on the other side of a bush.
There s one, he said laughing. Then we realized it wasn t a rabbit; it was a buck. Forked-horn, and a nice size. He d let us get ridiculously close to him.
The buck sprinted up the hill and then came to a stop. Broadside. Right in front of the house.
Hell!
I looked back at Boyfriend, chagrined to have lost my second chance of the morning.
Oh, even I wouldn t have taken that shot! he said.
We called it quits not long after that. But it was really bugging me that I knew deer were there and I hadn t gotten a shot at them. When John and Peg made it clear I was welcome back anytime, I said, Could I come back tomorrow?
That was how I found myself walking down that trail again at 5:50 this morning in the near-blackness of the new moon “ alone, because Boyfriend had work to do today. I hadn t gone 20 steps down the driveway when I bumped a deer “ right where we d spooked that forkie the day before. But I couldn t see what it was. Too dark.
I circled around to the place where we d seen the first deer of the day on Saturday, and as I made my way to an oak tree I could back up to, I bumped another deer that I could hear, but not see.
Crap. Would this be the only time I d see the deer here?
The answer was yes. I spent nearly two hours under that tree and watched all variety of geese and ducks and woodpeckers, and heard not one but two flocks of turkeys down the hill from me. But not a single four-legged critter came by. And with the wind swirling all over the place, it was no surprise “ my scent had to be stinking up the whole area. The only excitement had been hearing rifle fire from somewhere nearby. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Damn, either you re not a good shot, or you re not hunting¦
I decided to bail.
I walked back to the pond where we d bumped the forkie to see if he d make the same mistake twice, but he wasn t there.
It was 8:40 and I hadn t seen squat. But I decided to make one last swing “ down to the creek, then back up to where I d started “ before calling it quits.
I walked down the trail toward the creek quietly, scanning the big, open hillside where we d bumped the does the day before, wondering where they were now.
Then I saw antlers sticking up out of the dry grass. They were attached to a head that was pointed my way.
Where I saw antlers
My heart leapt into my throat and the rest of my body went the other direction, sinking slowly toward the ground, right there in the middle of the trail. I set up my shooting sticks, raised the gun and took at better look at what I d seen “ a lone forked-horn buck bedded down, broadside to me, about 80 yards away. He was looking my direction, but the wind was in my face, so he couldn t smell me, and he clearly wasn t spooked.
My stick was positioned too low, so I slowly reached for each of the legs and extended them a bit. Looked through the scope again. Still a forked-horn “ looked like the one we d seen the day before. Shooting stick was still too low.
One more adjustment and it was perfect. And the buck still wasn t moving.
But boy, my gun was. My heart was thumping wildly.
Calm down, calm down, calm down, I told myself. I put the crosshairs on where I thought his vitals should be, but the grass obscured his body.
No need to take that shot, I told myself. He d have to get up soon “ his nice shady spot was starting to get sun.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
I kept the scope on his vitals, but my eyes kept wandering to his antlers. A forkie may be no big deal in whitetail country, but this was a respectable deer. A legal target. My heart raced more.
Just look at his ribcage.
After five minutes, I finally calmed down enough that I felt I could take a shot.
If he d just get up. He seemed to be in no hurry. He looked this way and that. No hurry.
My arms trembled from holding the gun steady for so long.
Finally, the buck heaved “ rear end up first, then the front. He took a step, quartering slightly toward me. I put the crosshairs behind his elbow and the rest of what happened became a crystalline memory.
BOOM!
He staggered a few steps and dropped. Good!
He got back up. Problem?
Even without the scope I could see a bloody hole in his ribcage, glistening in the sunshine that had ended his nap. Good hit “ definitely hit lungs.
He wobbled, and collapsed.
Yes! These are the shots I dream of. Not some botched shot that sends an animal into the woods to suffer until I find him, maybe dead, maybe alive. The shot that takes him down before he knows what happened. No suffering; just rapid death.
I watched the spot, then checked my watch. Boyfriend and I had gone over the what-if scenarios the night before. How long should I wait if I shoot a deer and it runs? How long if he just drops on the spot?
Ten minutes, just to be safe. It was 8:54:03.
I was trembling uncontrollably. I peeled off my gloves, jacket and hat and watched the spot to make sure he didn t get up. For a moment, I saw the grass twitch spasmodically where the deer had fallen. Not struggle; just the nerve reactions that follow death. I ve never killed a deer before, but I know what that looks like.
I glanced at my watch. 8:57.
Oh my God, I got a deer!
Thank you, I said out loud. For the deer s sacrifice. For the dumb luck that had allowed me to spot him, and to take the time to regain my composure, and to be presented with a perfect shot.
I looked at my watch every 30 seconds, and finally it was time. I marched up the slope and searched the knee-high star thistle. There. On the ground. Eyes open and tongue out. Dead.
He looked a little smaller than I d thought from where I shot him, but I didn t care “ he was a good looking deer.
I went back up to the house to get some things “ like Boyfriend s truck, which I could take down the trail. I saw Peg and John at the house.
We heard seven shots! John said.
Only one was mine, I said. The last one.
They seemed relieved. John was saying, She must not be a very good shot¦ Peg said.
I laughed, and told them I needed to get back to the deer to field dress it.
But first, I needed a picture. I d brought my camera, a tripod and a remote control, so I could take a picture of myself:
The gutting was a pain. The biggest mammal I ve ever dressed was a jack rabbit, so this was more challenging. I struggled through it and got almost everything out. That s when I noticed the very full bladder still attached. I felt around it, trying to figure out how to liberate it without emptying it all over the meat, with the animal lying on its side on a gentle slope. I was stumped.
Blood up to my elbows, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Boyfriend. How do I get the &^@#! bladder out? I yelled. His answer was not helpful. I went back to the deer, and after several attempts, hoisted him up by his hind legs to get the bladder hanging, pinched off the tube leading into it, cut the tube and tossed the bladder a safe distance away.
Whew!
And here s where I felt really blessed to be hunting where I was: I was able to drop the tailgate of the pickup, angle it toward the hillside, and drag the deer 20 yards to the bed of the pickup. Total luxury!
I went back to the house to get the remainder of my stuff and gave thanks to my hosts. Peg looked at me “ bloody and stinking “ with what looked like a mix of intrigue and horror. She was totally cool with the hunting, but for all I know, this was her closest encounter with freshly-killed meat.
All right, I said. I d give you a hug, but I m disgusting and smelly, so I m just going to get out of here.
On the drive home, I began texting and calling my hunting friends to share the news. I d tucked the deer well into the bed of the pickup so nothing would stick out, but honestly, I had the urge to parade him around and show everyone: I d just gotten a deer. By myself! My first deer ever. A blacktail! I just wanted someone in a taller vehicle than mine to look into the bed of that truck and give me the nod of approval.
I was amused by my reaction. I ve not really cared that I hadn t gotten a deer in my previous three years of hunting, but I was as proud and excited as if it had been a lifelong goal.
When I got home, I got what I was looking for. I found Boyfriend working in the garden, but he came to me immediately to give his stinky, bloody girlfriend a big hug. He was proud of me “ I d done it on my own.
I kept grinning through the rest of our work breaking down the deer, and wondered why I was so taken with the experience.
I think we re just hardwired to hunt deer, he said. We ve been hunting deer since before we were we.
Maybe it s that. Maybe it s the odds. I d gotten my Second Chance buck on my sixth day of deer hunting ever. Statistics say it takes 33 days of hunting to get one. Phillip had told me it d taken him four years to get a blacktail.
Maybe it s the antlers “ the thing that allows you to instantly measure your quarry. This was the first antlered animal I d killed.
Maybe it was the fact that I d done it myself. Sorta. While I was alone at that moment, the reality is that every action I took was influenced by what I d learned from people like Boyfriend, Phillip and even random TV shows. But I d made all the decisions. I d spotted the antlers in the grass. I d taken the good shot.
I don t know. I probably won t figure it out tonight. I may not figure it out ever. But for now, I m just happy.
© Holly A. Heyser 2009
For more stories from Holly go to www.norcalcazadora.com
See the original article at CampWildGirls.com
A Little Outdoor and Indoor News
A couple of things I d like to mention today:
Outdoor News:
Norcal Cazadora s first deer:
Congratulations to Holly for harvesting her first deer. It was a spot and stalk but not tackle like my deer. But I tell you, Holly always amazes me. Not only did she harvest her first deer but she did it all alone.
Stacey Huston s cover shot:
This months Primitive Archer magazine features Stacey Huston s photograph on their cover. Congratulations to her and what a beautiful cover shot.
The Book by Dayne Shuda:
Dayne Shuda of Hunting Business Marketing has written The Book for simple strategies for marketing your hunting business on the web. Even if you re blogger running an outdoor site, there are many helpful tips and strategies to help you market your name on the web.
Outdoor giveaway:
Ben G. Outdoors is giving away 4 great prizes on his blog. Muck boots from Hank s Clothing, A Warrior Outdoors Hoodie, A Magnet Gun Caddy from Spec Tech and a copy of Warrior Outdoors Rack Attack. All you have to do is leave a comment telling Ben G. what you d like to see more of on his blog.
Indoor news:
Wednesday s at The Hunter s Wife:
Starting on Wednesday s here on my blog I m going to share certain conversations I ve had over the week with a particular person that made me laugh, made me think or made me want to smack them. Tomorrow will be an interesting conversation I had with my Mother the other night.
Have a great day all!
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
12 yr. Old Hannah Goes Hunting Bear!
I met Hannah at the youth bear hunt when I was interviewing the kids that the ABC Sportsmen s Club had sponsored. This spunky little gal was raring to go and told me she would be on a hunting show some day! You go Girl!
Here is 12 year old Hannah s Bear Hunt in her own words:
The first day we went out and we checked on the baits in the beginning of the day. We saw 2 cubs alone and there was 1 mother and 3 cubs. It was a good sized mother, but of course you can t shoot a mother with cubs. Then at around 2 o clock we looked at one bait, and we saw medium sized tracks and we guessed around a 200 pound bear.
We got ready and we decided to go after it. We let 1 dog go and started to hear the howling and we let 3 more and then another 2. They all started howling and we kept going back and forth and back and forth because they kept on running on the bear tracks for 2 hours because the bear would not go up a tree.
The bear was running in circles. My guide Larry noticed there were 3 dogs going in one direction and 3 dogs going in the other and it was weird because we think there was a small 100 pound (bear) and another 200 pound bear. Three dogs were chasing after one and 3 dogs were chasing after the other. We put 3 more (dogs) out there and we ended up with the 100 or so pound bear up a tree.
We had to walk at least a mile out in the woods and we found it. It was up in a tree and it was about 125 pounds.
We were getting the dogs tied back and getting ready to shoot and it went down the tree. It ran out and he let the dogs go again. Larry asked if
I wanted to go for a different one and I said no because none of the other kids had one yet at this time.
Our truck was way over on the other side and we were closer to some trucks on this side of the woods where there were other people that helped us. He (Larry) went to get our truck and we heard howling really close to us. One of the other hunters came back and he said that the bear was on the side of the road up in a tree.
We ran down the road and there it was up a tree and all the dogs were there. Then I shot it once and got it in the lungs and then it climbed up the tree. We didn t know if I missed it or not. It was weird and then we hit it again, I think in the neck and it still wouldn t drop. So we hit it 1 more time and it finally dropped. It weighed about 125 pounds.
Hannah s first words when she saw the bear were I can t believe this! It s like I m dreaming.
A big THANK YOU to the Medford Hunter Safety Instructors, Ashland Bayfield County Sportsmen Club, Bayfield County Wisconsin DNR Warden Pat Quaintance, and Guide Larry Leer of Ettrick, WI and his entire crew of awesome Hunters for making this little girl s unbelievable wish happen.
Youth can sign up for the WI LTBH (Learn to Bear Hunt) program on the WI DNR webpage or at a DNR Service Center or at a hunter s safety class.
One more note: Hannah has also taken her first deer in the WI Youth hunt last weekend. Congratulations Hannah.
See the original article at CampWildGirls.com
