Critics of The Hunter s Wife
Yesterday, someone (she reads my blog) was making fun of me for not being a girly girl that takes her own fish off the hook. Coincidence that I asked if my readers take their own fish off the hook?
Maybe.
Probably not.
Dear chick that takes her own fish off the hook,
Before you get your fish off your hook ¦ I ll break your pole.
Love,
The hair puller.
It s a full moon tonight be safe all!
I love my readers.
Flying off on my broom for the night!
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
Fishing Glove by Glacier Glove
A review sponsored by the great folks at Glacier Glove.
Before I left for our annual fishing trip, I was contacted by the wonderful folks at Glacier Glove to do a review for one of their gloves. I don t accept all reviews offered, but this was different ¦ because ¦ well ¦
I use a handy wipe to take little baby fish off my hook.
Over the years I d felt guilty having my husband take all my fish off the hook. So I d tried using towels, handy wipes, and my sweatshirt thanks to a tip from my outdoor friend Arthur, just to give my husband a break and not be bothered.
So this trip was very relaxing for my husband and very productive for me because I had ¦
Glacier Glove has many style gloves for a variety of outdoor activities from hunting gloves, fishing gloves, paddling gloves, sun gloves and cycling gloves. The style glove that was sent to me was actually from their hunting section but I used it during my fishing trip.
And this is what my fishing glove looked like by the end of the week.
Can you tell it was put to good use? Holy fish slime guts.
The first few days I bounced around the boat in excitement that I was taking my own fish off the hook. I even had a dance for it.
By mid-week it wasn t as exciting because I realized how good I had it when my husband was in charge of all that.
I use to be the carefree I m never touching a fish chick with my feet up swinging my pole in my husband s face for him to do the dirty deed. (In case you re wondering, yes I d hit him in the head a few times.)
By the end of the week I honest to goodness said ¦
I don t know what crazy person invented this stupid glove.
Yes I said that.
Because it worked. And it worked well!
But I liked being the princess that doesn t take her fish off her own hook. And now, because of the Glacier Glove, I ll forever have to take my fish off my own hook.
And I want one of you to be just as fishing independent as me. So tomorrow, I am giving away one pair of the Glacier Gloves to one of you!
Have a great day all ¦ and I wouldn t be The Hunter s Wife if at some point during the end of my fishing trip next year, my Glacier Glove goes missing.
We have a love/hate relationship.
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
What Was I Thinking
Before I left for vacation I asked a few bloggers if they d like to do a guest post here at The Hunter s Wife. Nancy Jo Adams from Shenanigans From the Field sent me this guest post a couple of weeks ago. I thought today would be the perfect day to share it with my readers.
Saturday morning was a slow morning in the blind as I sat on the edge of a field in hopes of seeing the Grand Poopah; a name I dubbed the trophy bird that we filmed on this land earlier this season. As I sat there listening¦and watching the weeds grow¦my beloved Crackie vibrated in my cargo pant pocket. I thought to myself, I guess now would be the perfect time to catch up with what is waiting in my inbox. It was well after fly-down time and we had not heard a tom in over thirty minutes which was a tell-tale sign that they were henned-up.
As I looked through the messages in my inbox I ran across a Facebook message from Jody aka the Hunter s Wife. Interesting, I am going to have to read this one now; knowing that it was going to bring a chuckle or a pondering thought. The message was asking if I wanted to write a guest post. Guest post? Shoot yeah, I want the opportunity to write a guest post on Jody s blog.
As I sat there thinking how ironic that was¦an avid if I will eat it-I will hunt it hunter writing a guest post in a blog by a camo-loving, crappie fishing, cupcake baking non-hunter. This can t be too hard“not so long ago, I WAS a hunter s wife so I have experience here; I think.
So I sat and pondered for a little bit and it must have been the dew dampened earth permeating my nostrils, or the beam of sunshine that crept through a crack in the blind window that warmed my shoulder, or maybe even the song birds serenading me with a tune they were programmed to sing before their first light“I don t know what it was exactly but the thought that Jody was missing out on all of these things was sad to me. The thrill of seeing an animal in their natural habitat unknowing of your presence, the communication of the animals among each other, the interaction between a caller and a tom as that tom methodically displays all of his grandeur; the colors ricocheting off his feathers of gold, copper, beige and the stark red, white and blue of his head. The sound, which cannot be explained in words, of a gobble as it rattles the stillness of a cool morning and the building anticipation while watching a tom strutting into your decoy setup; gobbling the entire way. The heart pounding moment that you raise your gun in attempt to harvest that tom and the wing flapping, dust flying moment right after the shot as you run out to get a better look at your prize harvest.
Wow! I wondered to myself, What would it take to get Jody into the woods to experience all this?
But like a needle SCREECHING across a record, glass SHATTERING on concrete, or two pots CLANGING together¦.I popped back to reality. WHAT WAS I THINKING??? I could just see it now¦calamity in the field. I could just envision the morning now:
Turkey: {Gobbling from the tree!}
Jody: What was that racket?
Nancy Jo: That was a gobble. Didn t it give you chills and make your hair on your arms stand on end?
Jody: More like raised the hair on the nape of my neck¦what a racket!
Nancy Jo: Look at that beautiful sunrise!
Jody: Great! Now it is going to get hot and muggy. My hair is going to be a wreck!
Nancy Jo: The birds are on the ground now. We should see them any minute.
Jody: What is that smell? Peww..It smells musky!
Nancy Jo: That is the damp ground from the dew. Smells fresh, eh?
Jody: Like fresh mildew. Is this smell going to stay in my clothes and hair?
Nancy Jo: That sun beam coming through the window feels good doesn t it? Warms you clean to the core.
Jody: Look at all that dust and pollen blowing in the air¦ewww¦.is that going to stay in my clothes and hair?
Nancy Jo: Look Jody!! Look, the tom is headed our way.
Jody: Oh my!! What an ugly bird! He looks like a buzzard!!
Nancy Jo: Look! Look at that! He is strutting, putting on a show for the decoys! Isn t that the neatest thing? Simply beautiful!
Jody: Is that a bug on my pant leg?? Oh! Oh! Is that a TICK? Get it off!! Get it off of me!!
Nancy Jo: Shhhh!! You are going to scare off the tom.
Jody: I am bored! Do you have any games on Crackie? How about the Internet? Anything?
Turkey: {Gobbles.} {Struts.} {Gobbles.} {Struts.} {Gobbles.} {Strut.}
Jody: What a racket! Can you get him to shut up? Shoo him away or something. Make him stop all that non-sense. What does he think he is doing anyways with all that poofing up and charades he is doing?
Nancy Jo: He is strutting for the decoys. I am fixing to make him quiet, dead quiet.
Nancy Jo: Raises her gun. Clicks the safety off and prepares to make a cluck to make the tom alert for the shot.
Jody: WAIT! ARE YOU GOING TO SHOOT HIM?
Nancy Jo: Yep! Look at that beautiful beard on him. I sure hope he has nice long spurs too!
Jody: NO!! You can t shoot that BEAUTIFUL bird. Look how cute he is all puffed out. Look at the wonderful colors reflecting off of him. Look how pretty his pony tail is. He is so patriotic looking with that red, white, and blue head¦.NO!! You can t shoot him!! No! No!
Nancy Jo: He is a trophy bird Jody”I can t shoo him off!! He will also make an awesome honey bourbon grilled turkey breast.
Jody: No!! As she rises to stick her head out of the blind¦shoo bird, shoo¦ get out of here“waving her arms frantically in the air.
Turkey: {Putt!} {Putt!}
Nancy Jo: As I watch tail feathers waggling, beard flopping from side to side and the bird disappear over the terrace in a dead run, I click the safety on and lower my gun, shaking my head as I slump my shoulders.
Jody: With a big smile on her face. See, that wasn t hard at all. I m hungry. Let s go see if we can find a cupcake some place. Does my hair look okay?
Yeah, what was I thinking?? Like the song birds, programmed for a predetermined sound before hatching¦some women are born NOT to be in the woods with a gun sitting in their lap, sun on their shoulder, damp earth permeating their nostrils, and anticipation keeping them glued to their seat for hours on end as they ponder many things¦ crazy things at times.
Nancy Jo Adams “ Shenanigans From the Field
Thank you Nancy Jo.
To my readers: Nancy Jo is a great follow on Facebook. That showoff outdoor chick does nothing but hunt.
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
Kentucky Fishing Guides and Princess Fishing Chick Angler of the Year
We ve been vacationing at Barkley Lake, Kentucky for about 5 years. One of the reasons we continue to go back is the fishing. We ve always managed to bring home our share of bluegill, crappie, yellow strippers and catfish. Between my husband and I, on average, we catch about 100 fish a day. We ve never had a problem catching fish. But this year the guys, Mark and Troy, decided to hire a guide to possibly find a few new spots and learn a few new tips.
So we hired Billy Joe Boitnott that was highly recommended by the locals.
And I had no idea what to expect but I was put on the boat with Billy Joe and it was fishing heaven.
Let s take a look back at my fishing history:
- My 1st year of fishing: My husband took care of everything but I needed to learn if I wanted to be fishing chick angler of the year.
- My 2nd year of fishing: I touched worms and baited my own hook. Because one day I ll be fishing chick angler of the year that doesn t need a man baiting her hook.
- My 3rd year of fishing: I could rig up my own pole in case of brush hangups. Or tree hangups. Or my own hair hangups. No need for a man on this boat. I m fishing chick angler of the year.
- My 4th year: I just can t take a fish off the hook but I ll take pictures with it. Posing as fishing chick angler of the year.
- My 5th year: Oh Billy Joe where have you been for the past 4 years?
I sat in a chair on the front of the boat like princess fishing chick angler of the year and never had to move. He baited my hook, fixed my line, baited my hook, took my fish off, fixed my line, fixed my line and fixed my line.
And he called me cute pet names ¦ Sassy Susie, Sassy Jo, Sassy Jane and Sassy Frassy.
And I m not sure why? Cause I m not Sassy. I was very proper, polite and well-mannered. I was the perfect lady and I made sure not to use one bad word. I had a talk with myself before we went not to use bad words. No bad words Jody. It wouldn t be ladylike.
But then I heard Billy Joe say, you monkey a few times. And just when I lost that monster 10 lb crappie I loudly blurted out ¦
Y O U M O T H E R M O N K E Y.
Have a good day all ¦ I wonder if Billy Joe would paint my toenails next time?
Who needs the title fishing chick angler of the year being all fishing independent when you can be princess fishing chick angler of the year thanks to Billy Joe.
~~~~~~~~~~
If you d like to hire a guide on Barkley or Kentucky Lake, I would highly recommend Billy Joe Boitnott. For more information and if you d like his number you can email me at: jody @ thehunterswife . net.
Thank you all and thank you Billy Joe!
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
To Tinkle In The Woods I ll Go
If you ve been reading my blog for any amount of time you ve probably come across a comment or two I ve made about never tinkling in the woods. I m not that kind of outdoors girl. A squirrel might see me. But after an incident at the marina last week, well, um, lets just say I d rather a squirrel saw me.
It was a very hot week of fishing. 85 degrees hot. Being on a boat in the middle of the lake with the sun beating down on you feels like 95 degrees. Without making a move, you ve already worked up a good sweat. Which means your clothes are wet and stuck to you.
My husband decided he needed more minnows so we headed to the marina. We pulled up at the dock and I decided I better use the ladies room. So I pranced across the dock and up the pier to the restaurant wishing everyone a good morning along the way.
On my way out, I wished more fellow anglers and marina workers a good morning and climbed back into the boat. As we pulled away I noticed several workers going about their business on the dock, people having coffee on the upper level of the marina restaurant and I thought about the people that had a beautiful view to the water while dining in the restaurant.
We finally made our way to a brush pile with our fresh minnows and my boat duties kicked in. I bent over and dropped the anchor in the water. I bent over and set the minnows out for easy access. I bent over and handed my husband a minnow. And I bent over, grabbed my pole and started fishing while standing.
A short time later, another boat anchored behind us to fish a separate brush pile. We made small talk with the older couple and then I went about my fishing business. Bending over to get a minnow, bending over to pick up my minnow I dropped and bending over to pick up my squirmy little minnow again. After about an hour, our elder friends left.
You know when it s 85 degrees out, your clothes are stuck to you, you re swatting bugs in fear of getting bit and you start itching? Well I was all over the boat swatting and itching when I felt something biting the back of my leg. I turned my body to give the back of my leg a good itch when I noticed it.
You know when you re the girl that doesn t tinkle in the woods and is in fear of bathroom germs so you cover the toilet like you re wallpapering the thing in case your squat fails?
You know when it s 85 degrees and your ass is as sticky as wallpaper?
And your squat failed for that brief second just long enough for a 5 feet long piece of toilet paper to stick to your ass.
You know when you bend over 100 times in a boat and you re husband never notices that you have 5 feet of toilet paper hanging out your sticky wallpapering ass?
You know when you re on a boat and an older couple is fishing behind you and they never once said, Excuse me hon, but I think you have something hanging out your panties?
You know when you re sitting there having flash backs of where it happened, when it happened, and for the love of prancing across the marina like you re super TP girl, who in the world saw you?
Oh help me.
And then you do what every wife would do after sitting on a boat with their husband for 12 hours a day¦
Mark? Grr Mark. Grr. As many times as I bend over in this stupid boat, how did you not see 5 feet of toilet paper hanging down to my ankle? I went on and on. Blah blah blah. Guys at the marina saw me. Other anglers saw me. Blah blah blah. OMG blah blah blah. I don t even know what I was rambling but it was a good wife ramble for a good 15 minutes.
And all he had to say was, Jody, I was fishing.
I am never using the marina bathroom again.
Mariana worker: Where you going?
TP super girl: To use the ladies room.
Mariana worker: It s that way.
TP super girl: Oh no it s not. It s behind tree number 3.
Have a good day all ¦ to tinkle in the woods I ll go.
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
Eating Crow with Springing Teal
When I announced I wanted to take up Shooting Sports as a hobby, it went over like a fart in church. I can still smell the distinct odor the affair raised”and it wasn t gunpowder. I heard the Doubting Thomases and the harshest critics say: JoAnna Zurinsky, if you ever manage to blast a clay bird out of that sky, it will be the day monkeys fly out of our butts! Now call it what you will, Daddy says it s a case of good-old fashion German Stubbornness, I call it American Woman Resolve. I was going to hit a clay bird. I was going to do it regardless of whatever anyone said. Daddy and I went out to the field in the back of our barn, and he threw the clays. I took his 12ga Remington pump shotgun, and blasted the smithereens out of a bird, first try! It felt so good. I did it again, and again that afternoon. Sure I missed my fair share, but I didn t focus on what I was doing wrong, I only focused on what I was doing right. I was having fun, and I was hooked!
And Daddy? Well, he was shocked! My mom, who knew all along that I would do it, bagged up little pieces of clay birds for me to take home as a trophy to show my better, and sometimes un-believing half, Larry, as proof that monkeys sometimes do fly. And out of the strangest places! When I got home, I put the baggie on the table, Larry rolled on the floor laughing. What? I asked. Larry blurted out, with Chardonnay gurgling through his nostrils (he was that amused): Hand thrown birds are a great deal different than what you ll experience at a Gun Club with trap-machine thrown birds! Undaunted, I soon got my chance to try Sporting Clays and Skeet.
I asked for a membership to the local gun club for my birthday that year, instead of jewelry”and got it, along with an offer for a full-on psychiatric evaluation. I started going to the gun club every chance I got; with friends, relatives and any country man or woman who lend me their time and ears, so I could yell: PULL! I befriended a couple of the members, and the nicknames along with the clays, started flying: JoAnnie Oakley, 12ga Lady, Clay Slayer, The Crapshoot Kid and my personal, but somehow annoyingly favorite, Ram-Jo. These were not all compliments- most of them cute, but condescending in nature.
At the gun club that I discovered Shooting Sports is wonderful fun, it is very competitive, and a boys club. One particular Sunday, my dad s friends from work were watching me at the Springing Teal stand, and bet a barbecue lunch on the odds that I would not hit single high or low clay out of the brush. I took on the bet. Now, I did not have the money to buy lunch for any of these fellas, but I couldn t let that stop me! Not a chance! I was going to stand my ground, if I was going to be wrong I was going to at least be bold about it. The taunting began. Hey Ram-Jo, you gonna slay that Springing Teal today? You got a reputation to keep at this club! As long as you re here, the clays are safe! Daddy looked at me, and I looked at him, the stubbornness and resolve creeping out of me, a sly smile crossed my face. We looked at Earl and Joe and yelled: Game On! With Daddy as my cheerleader, and pulling for me in the literal and figurative sense, I knew I could lick the Springing Teal stand. That day, there would be a thing such as a free lunch, but just desserts as well!
I got my clays, and Joe and Earl just stood at the bottom of the stand, jaws on the ground. I came over and they stammered out: we guess we owe y all lunch, and Crapshoot Kid, well, we re kinda sorry. I took out my ear protection, and said: Guys, I have my ear protection in. It silences the loudest of critics! Lunch was good. We were all sitting around, and Daddy asked: Is this the best barbecue you ve ever eaten or what?! I smiled and said, Dad, the chicken sort of tastes like Springing Teal, and I think that Joe and Earl s ribs must taste like Crow.
Till the next time: Shoot Straight and Aim High!
J.Z. Zurinsky- My Bullet Points
See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net
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
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Don t forget¦The Battle of the B.O.W.
The Battle of the B.O.W. with our own Terri Lee Pocernich and her son Kale starts Tuesday the 29th on the Sportsman s Channel. It starts in the 7:30 p.m. time slot. (that is CT).
We are very excited to see the new show and how it gets all put together. We only know one of the stories, ours. There are 9 other teams and the stories that they will also have. It should be an exciting venture, through the season!
Voting will start on after the first show on www.battleofthebow.com. Please watch the show and let us know what you think!
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AFTER MUCH ANTICIPATION¦The Prois XTREME Women s Hunting Series has arrived!
AFTER MUCH ANTICIPATION¦The XTREME Series has arrived!
New to our Camp Store this jacket has it all! Soft, silent shell of our 100% polyester 8000/5000 waterproof/breathable fabric. Well insulated with 150Gm 3M ULTRA Thinsulate- this jacket will not leave you out in the cold. Lined with our 100% nylon tricot for added ease of layering and movement. Deep chest and hand pockets. Innovative inner sleeve liner keeps arm mobile yet reduces drafting and maximizes dryness. Safety Harness access at the base of the neck with magnetic tab closure allows the huntress to wear harness under the jacket. Hood with exterior drawstring closure that pulls hood away from the face, thus maximizing peripheral vision. Drawstring at waist to enhance warmth. Includes the signature Prois Ducktail Feature that is designed to provide additional warmth and dryness to the backside¦simply unsnap and the tail drops down an additional 12 inches that optimizes dryness when sitting in the elements.
The heavyweight pants that are engineered to withstand the coldest conditions mother nature has to offer. Constructed with 100% polyester 8000/5000 waterproof/breathable shell that is soft and utterly silent. Insulated with 150 Gram 3M ULTRA Thinsulate and lined with our sleek nylon tricot. These pants are the ultimate in warmth whether you are trekking across the frozen mountain terrain or awaiting that trophy buck in a treestand. Elastic waistline with added elastic drawstring and cordlock. Large cargo pockets with pillowtop closures. 9³ boot zippers added for ease of donning. The Prois XTREME Pants are designed to meet the needs of THE serious hunter! Find them in the Camp Store
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