But Now We Have To Eat It

What a fun day. Cassie and I definitely started the year right.

We decided to lay a smack down on some squirrels today, going back to our hunting land before we have to return to our lives of school and work.

We didn't actually hit any last time we hunted, so the plan was to go a bit early, site the scope in a little better, eat lunch and then hit the blind. I would bring my big rifle, as well, since it was the last day of deer season and we had seen some hog sign near the feeder.

After we arrived at the hunting area, we set up a target and sighted in the scope. After about 15 shots, we were hitting bulls-eyes, so we knew the gun was good to go.

We ate and headed towards the blind.

It didn't take a long for squirrels to show. I shot and shot and shot and never connected. The first chance and miss particularly upset me as it was a simple shot and I shot just high. After a couple of hours Cassie started getting pretty bored and she asked me if she could shoot. I told her of course, that the only reason I was shooting is because she told me to.

Not long after I gave her my permission, she spied a squirrel out of the left window. I couldn't see it the way I was sitting. Frankly, I didn't believe her that a squirrel was there because I never heard it. I just thought she was bored and wanted to shoot. She lifted the gun and while I held it to give her support, she told me she couldn't see it's head because it was behind the tree. I told her to shoot as high on the body that she could see. She tried to switch off the safety and could not...it was too hard for her to push in. I pushed it for her. She eyed to scope and fired.

At first, I was still operating under the belief that there wasn't even a squirrel there. After all the missing I had done, I thought for sure that she hadn't really scored one.

The look on her face that followed was priceless. Her aim had scored true. One look at her face, and I knew that she wasn't kidding or trying to pull one over on her dad. She was shaking and incredibly excited. I look over and there was a grey squirrel on the ground.

We recovered the squirrel and at first she didn't even want to hold it, but ultimately, she warmed up to the idea. We took photos and continued to hunt for a little while longer. She missed on the next one, as the "squirrel fever" over took her and her heavy breathing made it hard for her to aim.

We left the blind and I told her that the hard part was coming as we had to field dress the squirrel. I had never done one before, but had watched several YouTube videos to see how it was done. I made Cassie help by by holding the legs. She was interested, and not a little grossed out, at how everything worked. She helped real well and got the squirrel cleaned without too much bother.

Cassie was still so excited, so we stopped by Angie's aunt and uncle's house to share our story. They told us of some squirrel recipes, including "squirrel dumplings" that they both enjoy very much. In fact, everyone that I have heard from think that squirrel tastes very good. I'm sceptical, but believe that if we are to hunt, we need to eat our kill, or at least find someone that will. To do otherwise is, in my opinion, wasteful. Cassie agrees and we'll try a pulled pork style recipe that we found that calls for you to slow cook the squirrel until the meat falls of the bone.

We'll likely need a couple more squirrels to have enough to actually make a meal, but now that Cassie has bagged hers, she told me I am free to hunt them without her.

Now, I just need to actually hit one.

SL

My New Hunting Buddy

Today's hunt just wasn't the same.

I sat in the blind and watched the squirrels scamper around. I listened to the ducks whoosh in behind me, land in the water, and proceed to do what ducks do. I waited in vain for deer or hogs to appear. Normally, I would have been loving the experience - I like to be outdoors and the actual hunt is secondary to that experience. However, this time was different. I was thinking about my new hunting buddy and I missed her not being there with me.

You see, Cassie hunted with me on Thursday and it was the best hunt of my life - even if we missed everything at which we shot.

Cassie hasn't hunted with me prior to Thursday and when I asked her if she was interested in going, I was pleasantly surprised that she said yes. Because it was her first hunt, I wanted everything to go smoothly - as often hunting can be hard work, in difficult conditions and I didn't want anything like that to turn her off.

First, I scheduled Thursday afternoon as our day. The forecast called for sunny and warm temps in the high 60's. Since she isn't really outfitted for being in the woods, this was of paramount concern. Secondly, I wanted her to have fun, so I tried to take a lot of the work out of the hunt - even if it meant it diminished the probability of us actually bagging any game. I also had to reset my expectations; that this hunt was about us having fun together and experiencing the outdoors, not about the harvest.

We started our day in the late morning. She indicated that she might like a rifle of her own for her birthday, so we took a drive to Gander Mountain in Sherman. They have a good selection of guns and we had already been to B&S Guns, Cabelas, and Bass Pro looking for a pink .22 LR. No one had one, so Gander Mtn. was our next attempt. They didn't have any in stock, but we definitely found what we were looking for, a Remington Model 527 .22LR in Pink Camo. She indicated that this was the gun she wanted, so we talked to the sales person about when their distributor would have them in stock. We'll have to wait a couple of weeks until we can order it, but they did have the same gun in black, so I bought it for me. I figured she could use it until she gets her own and I could use it whenever I needed a small caliber gun.

We then drove to the hunting area. The first order of business was to sight in the scope on the new gun. We spent about an hour adjusting the scope until we had good groups close to bulls eye. I knew we weren't 100% sighted in, but the sun was starting its decline, so we grabbed our gear and headed for the blind; me with both the .22 and my .270 Win and her with her pellet gun. We sat and I could tell that she was terribly excited. We spoke in whispered tones about the set up. I informed her that I'd seen a lot of squirrels at the hunt area and expected to see them this afternoon, as well. However, there were none to be seen. In fact, the woods were surprisingly quiet. I explained that we likely spooked everything away with our practice shooting and that if we were quiet and still, they would probably come back. So, we waited in relative quiet.

We ended up seeing a several squirrels. We took shots at them, but missed on each one. On most occasions, we squeezed of more than one shot, but were unable to connect. Clearly, the scope still needs a little bit more adjustment. I could tell she started getting a little bored, and I suggested we wait for the feeder to go off, then wait a little after that, and if we weren't seeing anything we could go.

As the feeder went off at 5:00pm, we heard something behind us. I thought it might be a deer off in the distance, but Cassie thought it right behind the blind. She told me her heart started racing. She was right as to location, but it wasn't a deer, it was a crazy grey squirrel. Eventually, it started climbing a tree to our left and I shot at it twice, but missed both times.

We decided to call it a day, but she kept talking about how she felt when she thought a deer was right outside our blind. I know exactly how she felt, but I also know that it pales in comparison to how I felt having her by my side.

It will be the same way I feel when we go back tomorrow, my knew hunting partner by my side.

SL

The Velveteen Buck

"Did it have a nutsack?"

Not understanding, I answered his question with one of my own, "What was that?"

"Your deer, did it have a nutsack?"

Thus began the solving of the mystery behind this morning's harvest.

My hunt seriously started last week when I saw a buck following his five does (Click here for that account). At the time, I thought they were the members of his harem, and I guess they could have been, but that appears to be less likely now.

Yesterday was the first opportunity that I had to hunt. My plan was to hunt hard for the entire week, as I had access to awesome hunting land and the office is shut down for the holiday break. I set my alarm for Monday morning at 4:15. Unfortunately, I wasn't careful about setting the AM or PM designation properly, so I slept until about 6:15, when I awoke on my own. Since this was about the time I wanted to get into the blind, I decided to sleep in a little more. My hunt would have to wait until the afternoon.

I finally got into the blind about 2:00pm. Legal shooting hours go from one half hour before sunrise to one half hour after sunset. This meant I could shoot until 5:53pm.

Other than an unidentified animal that ran along the tree line in front of me about 175 yards away, I saw little. Through my peripheral vision, I thought I noticed through the trees, two puffy white tails bounding on my right, but they were gone so quick I was never really certain. At about 5:40am, I heard the first of a couple of deer come into the wooded area on my left. It had gotten sufficiently dark by then, so I couldn't make them out...I never knew how many (certainly more than one) and what sex. I waited for them to leave until after six, but my bladder would no longer wait. I decided to spook them with my flashlight and shined the beam towards them. They bounded away with crashes through the timber. I was safe to depart, walk to my car, and relieve my bladder.

I had spent another wonderful afternoon spent in the woods watching crazy squirrels and listening to the sounds of nature.

Since I slept in yesterday, I was eager to get going today. So eager, in fact, that I woke on my own at about 3:15am. You think that getting up early would result in me getting to the blind on time, but it didn't. I got to the property about 6:30, and was almost to the blind when I heard the feeder go off. It is set for 7:00am, a good six minutes after legal shooting time.

As I was late to the blind and didn't want to spook anything close by, I got situated as quietly as possible. I was probably good to go at about 7:15am, and within five minutes I heard movement to my left. It was still a little dark in this wooded area, but I could make out the shape of a deer. I remained motionless as I tried to control my breathing. The deer were very cautious, but I could make out two, and then another, and another. Ultimately, it was clear that I was watching the five does from a week ago. I hoped that the buck was with them, but I couldn't see him. At the thought, my breathing became even more difficult to control. My heart was racing to match.

They funneled into the wash in front and below me. My pop-up blind is situated on the top of the bank to one of the property's tanks. The deer were about ten yards in front of me about about 10-20 feet below. I watched in silence as the single filed past me. Two mature does, a juvenile, another mature doe and another juvie. They were followed by my buck. This was the same group from last weekend. At this point, I could have tried for a shot, but decided to be patient. They were too close, my gun was not yet raised and I wasn't in position to shoot.

They continued left to right in front of me, and I soon started to think I made a mistake by waiting. They looked like they were going to continue to the right. However, the lead doe turned left and started up the rise. They were to the right of the feeder as they approached it. I thought I again was going to be denied as they now looked to be going to the right at the top of the rise, which would have put them behind another tree line. However, the lead doe turned left and went to the feeder. All of the other deer did the same.

At this point, they were far enough away from me that if I was very careful, I could arrange myself in the blind. I sat forward in my chair. It squeaked. A cautious doe looked up at me for a couple of moments, but then continued to eat. They all looked relatively relaxed. This wasn't a surprise since the feeder and the blind had been up for a week. I quietly raised my rifle and placed it on my shooting sticks. I had a very stable shot and was watching my buck through the scope as he ate. He turned broadside and was clear of the does. I couldn't control my breathing and breathed very hard through my mouth to calm down. I released the safety, exhaled halfway, held my breath and squeezed. He dropped immediately as the does scattered.

I chambered another round instantly. I've been burned by not watching and be ready to shoot again. He never moved.

I sat for a while as I regained my breathing. Unbelievably, the does returned (albeit about 50-yards away). I looked at all of them closely to make sure there wasn't a slick buck with them and they eventually went off to the right. I exited the blind and immediately went to tag the buck.

As I reached him, I noticed he was in velvet. Velvet is the soft tissue that covers their antlers when they come in. Eventually, the velvet is scraped off, shed, and the antler hardens. This should had already occurred, but on this buck it had not.

After some help from Angie's cousins who live close to where I was hunting, we removed and field dressed the deer. They were also surprised by the velvet, as was the game processor's son. However, the processor (who is an older man and has probably seen 1000's of deer) immediately knew what was up. My buck had no testicles. I didn't notice that when we were field dressing it, as Angie's cousin Russell did most of the knife work on the deer. I called him to verify and he replied that he hadn't noticed, but now that I was asking he didn't remember seeing said "nutsack". The processor went on the tell me that he's seen a couple of deer like this in his years, all of them missing their testicles. He surmised that at some point the deer likely had some kind of trauma and lost his balls. The effect of this is a little bit smaller body, a smaller rack, and velvet that wouldn't shed. Otherwise, he was healthy and a good buck. He estimated his age at 3.5-4 years old. And, in the opinion of the processor, "Real good eatin'!"

I was going to do an antler mount as a trophy, but the processor suggested a skull mount instead. He claimed I would never see another buck like this ever again...so I ordered the skull mount.

I'll never forget the story of my once in a life time buck.

SL

The Buck Stops There

I couldn't move. He was looking directly at me...hell, it felt like he was looking right through me. I couldn't understand how he could see me, but clearly he was uneasy. It may have been the fact that the five does he was with had run away in alarm, white tails up in what deer hunters call the big 'middle finger'. He was slower to leave, wanting to check out what was the cause of his concern. I don't think he actually saw me. I don't think he winded me. I don't think he heard me, but he knew something was wrong. You don't get through several seasons with a harem surrounding you without being careful. I'm hoping he doesn't get through another...but, I am getting ahead of myself.

As I walked to my spot, I couldn't get over how eerie it was walking through the woods in the pitch black. It was about 6:15am, and it was cold. I knew where I was headed, and would course correct with a quick push of the button on my bright flashlight, needed as the dim gleam on my headlamp really didn't illuminate more than a couple of feet in front of me. I had my pop-up blind on my back, my chair around my shoulder, and my rifle in my hand. I shoot an entry level Savage Arms .270 Win. Its an OK gun, but when I put a Leopold scope on it a couple of years ago, it became a much better rifle. As I emptied a magazine the previous day, I knew it was still accurate without any need for additional adjustment to the scope.

After about 15 minutes I arrived at my spot, set up the blind and got situated. I made much more noise that I would have liked, but I wasn't really expecting too much success this morning. I really wanted to set up everything and check the feeder to make sure that NEXT week was well prepared. I wouldn't have to wait a week for some excitement.

I sat and shook. It was much colder than I expected. Although decked out for winter, I was extremely uncomfortable. I had about 25 minutes before shooting light, so I doze. I had my phone set to vibrate at shooting hours which was 6:53am. As a backup, I knew that the feeder would wake me when it went off at 7:00.

I woke with the phone and again struggled with the cold. The sun was starting to come up, but I was set up in a heavily wooded area, so I never really warmed up. I checked my gun, my seat and surveyed the area through my scope to ensure that if the opportunity to shoot came about, I would be comfortable with my rest and position. I sat and waited and tried to stay warm.

First came the crows. They are loud and annoying, but I love watching them hop around looking for corn from the feeder. The squirrels descended next. In fact, a couple of squirrels were able to run off a dozen, or so, crows. However, the crows came back in greater numbers and started working on the corn again. This back and forth continued for a while...then the ducks arrived in the tank behind me. Ducks wings make a peculiar noise as they cut through the air. A large flock of ducks can make an amazing song. I listened to them for a while until they decided to fly off to another area. By the gunfire that I could hear in the distance, I thought they should have stayed with me...it would have been safer, as I wasn't hunting their kind today.

As I enjoyed the solitude, the sounds of nature, and the adrenaline that accompanies every little noise around me, I caught some movement out of the right window of the blind. I froze, although truth be told, I could no longer feel the outside temperature...there were deer in the field to my right. I was well covered by a line of trees between us, but that means I also couldn't see them well. I raise by scope to peer through it. I saw several does, five in total. A couple of larger mature does were keeping watch while the smaller ones seemed to be playing...jumping and running and generally having a good time knowing that mom was keeping an eye out.

They wandered around for a while and continued on their way. There wasn't a buck with them, but I know enough that the does often lead the way...so, I stayed motionless and quiet. Then, he showed. I saw antler, but from the side I couldn't tell if he was a legal shooter. It didn't matter anyway as I didn't have a shot through the trees. I maintained my vigilance hoping they'd show up again.

They did. About 20 minutes later, they showed on the other side of the tree line. However, they were also much further away, about 175 yards. My feeder is set up about 75 yards away from the blind and there are low hanging branches blocking a much longer shot. Additionally, the does seemed to be very cautious. They slowly started to filter down to the feeder, but the buck stayed back. 150 yards. Then, about 125 yards. I still didn't have a shot on the buck...he never really moved. He just seemed to stare at me. Before I knew it, the does had run off.

The buck just stayed there. I raised my rifle to size him up in the scope. He was about 150 yards (a makeable shot), but was directly facing me (not ideal). Additionally, the low hanging branches were very much a concern. I sized up his antlers, he was what looked to be a solid four point, with tall antlers, but not very wide. I think he is a legal buck (13 inch inside spread). I decided not to shoot. I want him broadside and closer to me....a week of no pressure getting acclimated to the blind and the feeder should do the trick. I'm going back to get him.

That's why I was there today in the first place. Not necessarily to bag this buck, but to get ready to do it right. This is the second time I've seen those five does in the same spot - so they shouldn't be going anywhere.

I think I'm going to be thinking about that buck a lot until next week.

SL

Dovers Lane

I didn't notice the sign the first time I drove to the hunting area. This time, however, I didn't miss it. As I approached Midlothian, I saw the exit sign, "Dove Ln".

I was invited to an afternoon hunt today and my host informed me that we'd be meeting at around 5:00pm at the hunt site. I marked the site on my nav the last time I was there, so I knew exactly where to go. As I saw that sign, I thought to myself that we'd have a good hunt.

What I didn't know is how much fun we'd have. Most of my experiences around dove hunting is that to have a long walk through pasture, while carrying your equipment, all while suffering in the Texas heat. And, once you get to your spot, you may not see a lot of birds or get a lot of shooting opportunities. Although I hunted hard last year, I only harvested a single bird. Since it wasn't enough for even a snack, I saved it for my sister so she could try a grilled breast.

However, since I hunted this site last week, I knew there would be lots of birds. And, although there were less birds than last week's morning hunt, we had better shooting opportunities tonight. My buddy put out two mojo decoys and they really worked, attracting a good number of birds closed to us. Additionally, we decided to hunt together, so we talked, laughed and shared a couple of beers while we scanned the sky for our quarry. I ended up harvesting three birds and my buddy six. We both shot almost two boxes each...it was great fun.

In addition to all of this, there were another ten people hunting with us, so there was a lot of shooting going on. In all, I brought home sixteen breasts, all of which are now vacuum packed and in the freezer.

After the hunt and cleaning the birds, we told stories of our hunt - yes, there were probably some exaggerations - shared another beer and a cigar and planned another day in the field. Given another opportunity, I will always choose to hunt with friends, both old and new, rather than by myself.

It is the way it was meant to be...

SL

Texas Duck

I haven't had much success in Texas. In fact, the only two times I have gone have been brutal.

The second time we drove a couple of hours, then walked up and down hills for about an hour. Once we were situated, we sat in the freezing rain and saw nothing. It wasn't a total loss, however...the views were amazing.

The first time was not much better. Although much closer to home, we walked through calf-high mud to get to our spot. Once there we also saw nothing except a beaver (which was actually pretty cool) and a sunrise.

Some say that the third time's a charm. They may be right.

Dylan called me yesterday to tell me he and his dad were going duck hunting in the morning and that I was welcome to join them if I wanted. After the first two times, I wasn't overly excited. However, I knew that there would be little walking involved as Lake Lavon had recovered from its very low water level and that we could boat to where we wanted to hunt. Additionally, we have had pretty cold weather, so I was hoping we might do better than not see any ducks. I also knew that this may be the last opportunity I had to hunt this season so I accepted.

I tried to get to bed early but by the time everything was done it was around 11pm. I must have been excited because I slept like crap. After waking up for the umpteenth time, I rose at 2:11am. I met Dylan at his dad's at the predetermined time. We packed the boat and truck and were off.

Dan took us to his "good" spot. He hunted there a couple of days earlier and saw lots of ducks. We set up the decoy spread, hid the boat in the brush and waiting for sunrise. Dan was very optimistic that we would see ducks landing in the spread quite early and quite often.

He was wrong.

Although we saw ducks, they avoided the decoys like the plague. He'd call, the ducks would check us out and then leave. They often landed in areas close to us, but not in range to shoot.

After about an hour, or so, a flock of canvasbacks came in right towards us. Dan and I fired. I was to Dan's left (Dylan was back in the boat, complaining about cold feet) so I shot at the duck to the left. I hit him, and he coasted to the water. Although not dead, he could no longer fly. We shot at him again while he was on the surface. Dan and I both started to give chase while the duck swam away.

We'd run and fire again. I quickly got winded and Dan said he would get him. An hour later, Dan returned empty handed. He had walked perhaps 500 yards, or more, in 3ft deep water and never was able to recover the bird.

In the meantime, I had returned to the spread. I had no call, but that didn't seem to matter. A lone canvasback approached. I shot and missed.

Dan finally returned, but went to the boat to catch his breath. While there, a flock of eight mallards came into the decoys. I lined the closest and fired. The duck fell. It was a beautiful mallard hen.

Not the greenhead I have been coveting, but a beauty nonetheless. The blue-purple on its wings is stunning.

We finally had a bird in the boat and that seemed to do the trick. We stopped calling and the ducks started coming in.

A pair of widgeons came in. Dylan and I lined up the one on the left...it fell. We're not sure who hit it, but it doesn't really matter. Dan missed his on the right. His continued to circle, looking for its mate, but we never got a good shot. It was amazing to see him fly around and quack searching for the one we downed.

Dan finally got his when a gadwall hen came into the spread.

We stuck around for a while longer seeing ducks, but never able to get them close. We ended the session watching a huge "V" of Canadian geese fly high over head.

I finally got my Texas duck. More importantly we had a great time on the water enjoying a beautiful morning in God's creation.

SL

One Shot Wonder

We started stirring around 8am...we were all well rested and very hungry. After a wonderful breakfast from Jerry of eggs, chorizo, bacon, tortillas and the last of the tamales, we planned our day. Jim and I were going to score a javelina. I had originally planned on bringing the meat home and actually trying it, but had been dissuaded earlier by Jim and Jerry. Had they not convinced me that eating the javelina would not have been the most pleasant experience, I would have come to the conclusion on my own as we cleaned them - but that is for later.

Jim had mentioned a group of hunters that had come through a couple of years ago and how they planned on making a skull mount of a javelina. I thought that might be an interesting momento to my trophy hunt weekend. They grow tusks similar to wild hogs, so the skull has some character. Combine that with the fact that Jim knew of people who would appreciate the meat and I was convinced a javelina was a good way to end the hunt.

Now, we had seen javelina on the property and they didn't appear the be the most wary of game. In fact, some would approach the mule as they had learned to equate the sound of the engine with the dropping of corn. However, they typically didn't get too close.

We started driving around the property. We were both convinced that we would be back at the lodge in short order. It didn't turn out that way.

We drove, sat, dropped corn, drove and sat some more. We did this for the better part of two hours and had only seen one javelina. It was a small pathetic one with a hurt foot. We left it alone.

We finally happened upon a feeder and about 20 javelina milling around. Jim turned the mule to face them at about 100 yards.

We glassed them for a while watching them eat and fight. It is amazing that they aren't related to hogs and they look and act so much like them. I had read that they are actually related to hippos. We watched them for a while and Jim instructed me to find the largest of them. I instantly identified the largest and tried to acquire him in my scope. The problem was that there were so many of them running around that the one I had picked was always behind at least one other javelina.

Because we never had to get out of the mule, I had a perfect rest. I also didn't experience the same level of buck fever with these as I did with the deer. I knew I had all day to wait - the javelina weren't going anywhere as long as there was corn on the ground. In fact, of all the hunting I've done, this seemed the least sporting. It seemed a little more like shooting to me. The javelina weren't going to go anywhere. I could have gotten out of the mule, mooned them, did a song and dance and they still would have hung around.

I watched and the one I picked out finally became clear. Or, at least I thought he was clear.

What actually happened is kind of hazy. I fired true and the one that I had picked out dropped right where it stood. My shot was placed on the shoulder and instantly killed my target.

However, another javelina went flying off to the left...He was clearly gut shot and hurt badly. Jim noticed it first and instructed me to put another bullet into him to finish him off. Unfortunately (as we would discover later as we cleaned him), my second shot went through the back and out through the belly - he was now gut shot twice...although definitely dead as well. To my point about the lack of sporting nature of javelina hunting, the others who scattered were back eating around the two carcasses within 30 seconds of my shooting.

So, my one shot killed two javelina. I'm still not sure if the second one was actually behind the first and the bullet passed through both or if there was some strange ricochet off a bone of the first. Jim made the point, and I completely agree, that it doesn't matter. As the shooter, I am responsible for the outcome. If this had been two deer, I would have had paid a significant price for the error. As it was, each hunter is allowed two javelina a season, so I was done.

Javelina are known as stink-pigs and they are aptly named. In fact, these were two of the more nasty creatures on God's green earth. First, you have to leave them alone after you kill them to give the fleas a chance to make their escape. I'm not sure we gave them enough time because I have a bunch of nasty bites on my hands. Additionally, they stink. Forget the fact that one was gutshot - they both stunk and stunk bad. Javelina have a musk gland on their back that they use when they are alarmed. This gland really gives off some odor. Also, while we were cleaning them I brushed off three ticks that had travelled from the javelina to my hands.

We finally got done with that nastiness and took pictures of the javelina and a couple more of buster. We washed and drew up plans for the meat and the trophies and prepared to say our good-byes and Angie and I were anxious to get home and had an eight hour drive in front of us.

I told Jim that I had planned on a trophy hunt weekend and got the added bonus of making a friend.

I'm not sure which was the greater pleasure, but in the end, it all made up a weekend and a birthday present that I will never forget.

SL

Buster and I (The Dressing)

After taking some pictures, we finally got Buster out of the field. Jim has an area for cleaning that has winches, water and tools.

After weighing the deer (220 lbs), we hung him and field dressed him pretty quickly. I helped as much as I could, but Jim did all the areas where its important to be careful. Because I am shoulder mounting the deer, we had to keep the cape intact which made it difficult to finish the dressing. Angie stayed with us, but tried not to look at any of what we were doing. At one point she looked up and got a good look and didn't enjoy the experience. Frankly, I think she was surprised that I was, literally, up to my elbows in it.

Jim kept telling her that she had to take a bite out of the heart, but when we realized where my shot was placed, there wasn't much left to bite. Although the shot hit about an inch or two to the left of where I wanted it to, it took out the shoulder and the heart for a clean ethical kill. Buster traveled those 50 feet on adrenalin only. I felt good about that.

We finished cleaning Buster, and Jerry and Jim scored him while Angie video taped (she conveniently did NOT tape the dressing). His scores were:


We returned to the lodge, our work done for the night, to finally sit down to dinner. Jerry put some steaks on and we had an amazing dinner over the story of my deer. It was after midnight by the time we went to bed, so I told Jim we could sleep in Sunday morning - there was no reason to get up early - a doe would have been anticlimactic at this point.

The plan for Sunday was to score a javelina, but we could do that at 10am just as easily.

I dreamed about Buster.

SL

Buster and I (The Harvest)

Jim asked me if I marked the spot. I had, so he informed me that he was going to get out of the blind and I should yell to him when he gets to the spot on the road where the buck was when I shot.

He walked about 75 yards down the road and I stopped him. He waved me down and began to look for blood.

The shot occurred with about 15 minutes of legal shooting time left. As we looked for blood it became dark. Jim couldn't find a single drop. Neither could I, but this was only the second time that I ever looked for a blood trail, so I knew if Jim couldn't find any that I wasn't going to be of much help.

We looked for what seemed like an eternity - the whole time I got more and more frustrated and fearful that we weren't going to be able to find my deer. I started to think that perhaps my shot missed. I thought the shot was true, and I was confident that I knew where my shot impacted the deer, but with no blood trail, it seemed as though I was wrong.

Jim gave up looking for blood on the road and entered the brush to look.

He appeared to be too far from the spot, so I started looking in the brush, too - but closer to the blind (about 50 feet closer than Jim). I noticed something shiny on a cactus right near the road and shiny means wet - it could have been blood.

I crossed the road, but couldn't find that shiny item again so I started looking further into the brush. I heard something move about 50 feet into the brush. It scared the hell out of me and I yelled to Jim that something was in the brush. He took a couple of steps closer to me and I took a couple of steps further intro the brush. I heard the noise again. There was definitely something in the brush with us and I said the same to Jim. I moved further in, and could see the deer. It was down, but still kicking. I yelled for Jim that I found it. He yelled to me that if it gets up I should shoot it again.

He came over and sure enough, my beautiful buck was lying still under a mesquite about 50 feet into the brush from where he was shot.

We waited several minutes before approaching and brushed the eye of the deer with my gun to make sure it was down for good. It was then that I got a good look at him and he was absolutely amazing. Jim shook my hand and congratulated me on a successful harvest of an excellent deer.

Now that we found him, we had hard work to do. First, Jim and I dragged him the 50 feet back to the road. We were careful not to drag him over cacti or through mesquites, which made our 50 foot drag more like 100. We noticed one thing...the deer was extremely heavy.

We got him into the road but quickly realized we weren't going to be able to get him into the mule. Jim suggested that we go back and get his truck with the winch. I thought that was a great idea. We drove back to the house (passing a very large rattlesnake crossing the road on the way) and picked up the truck and Angie.

The hard work was about to begin...

SL

Buster and I (The Shot)

I've affectionately named him Buster. He is the most beautiful deer I have ever seen and I will enjoy him on my wall for many many years; not to mention enjoying him on my dinner plate for many many meals.

It might sound strange to a non-hunter that I think he's beautiful, but the truth is that he is a magnificent creature. His death, by my hand, is honored by the fact that he will help feed my family and that I will remember the wonderful time I had on my trophy hunt - which just happened to be my 40th birthday present from Angie.

In fact, the entire weekend was perfect, in every way.

Angie and I arrived at Las Tejanas Ranch thirty miles outside of Laredo at about noon on Friday. The drive from the front gate to the lodge took what seemed like fifteen minutes. While we drove, we noticed acres and acres of mesquite brush, cactus and other hardy desert plants. The country is foreboding, but also beautiful in its harshness. Las Tejanas Ranch encompasses over 1,000 acres of this rough terrain, surrounded by high fence and sports whitetail, feral hogs, and javelina. The owner, Jim Winch, met us along the way to show us to the lodge.

Once at the lodge, we settled in. He had lunch waiting and Angie and I unpacked our gear and ate a little bit, all while taking in the sights of the lodge, it's decor of old pictures and signs and antlers everywhere. Most of the antlers were castoffs, but several were taken as part of harvests and Jim had a story for all of them. Jim ended up being one of those very kind souls wrapped in a tough exterior hardened by a life of physical labor and the Vietnam War. He also was quite sentimental and had a number of items and pictures from his past, each of which also had a very interesting story. In fact, when we weren't hunting, we enjoyed Jim's stories, or those of his cook for the weekend, Jerry.

After we settled in and had lunch, we went to a clearing on the property and sighted in my gun. After nine shots, we were confident that when it was time to shoot the bullet would go where it was aimed.

We returned to the house and decided it was time to get in the blind. Angie planned on sitting in the blind with us for this afternoon session, video camera in hand, in case there was any action to capture. We got into our cammo and into our snake chaps and headed to the blind in Jim's 4x4 gas powered mule. We got into the blind around 3:30pm and got ready.

Two does came in and we watched them eat, get spooked, and return to eat some more. I've seen many does before, but I was still mesmerized. The are so graceful and skittish, it is fun to watch them. I think Angie enjoyed it, too. We hoped for a buck, but we only saw those two until darkness.

That evening, we met Jerry and he prepared a wonderful meal of tamales, rice, beans, and tortillas. It was delicious and Jerry added to Jim's stories. We sat outside talking, smoking a cigar, and enjoying the campfire under the stars.

The next morning, Angie slept in while Jim and I headed to a ground blind. Although the days were in the low 90's, the morning was surprisingly cold. We sat and watched a doe and her yearling buck come in and eat. Another pair of does came in, as well, so we had four beautiful deer in front of us, but no shooters. The mom and son pair got spooked and left, and we watched the doe pair a while longer. A javelina joined them until they all ran off. We didn't see anything else, so we abandoned the blind at around 9am.

We returned to the lodge and had a wonderful breakfast of bacon and eggs and the left overs from dinner the night before. Jim kept saying that the afternoon session would be the one where we scored the buck I was hoping for. I had no reason to doubt him, so I was confident, as well.

After a nap, we left for another blind. This elevated box blind was located at the junction of six trails and Jim instructed me to keep my eyes out on the four in front of us...one had a feeder and he had scattered corn on the others. For several hours, all I did was count dove. Had I had my shotgun, I could have had a nice meal and there were many dove flying around or landing and eating the corn. At this point, I was getting a little frustrated. We hadn't seen a single deer this session and it was getting close to time to go in. But, that's when it happened.

In a whisper, Jim goes, "Scott. There's one to the right. It's a doe."

I raise my binoculars, but I really didn't need them as the deer was within 100 yards. A buck had walked into the middle of the road to eat. It presented a perfect broadside shot. I whisper back, "that's no doe. It's a buck."

Jim replies, "Shoot it". I hear "DON'T shoot it".

I look again through my binoculars...it looks pretty big to me, so I don't understand his instruction. I ask, "is it a shooter?"

"Yes. Shoot it when you are ready. Just don't bang your gun."

I put my binoculars down and move to get my gun. Maybe because Jim warned me not to do it, I bang my gun on the window sill. The deer hears the clang and looks at me. I remain motionless and the deer looks away. I slowly move my gun into position, resting on the ledge of the open window. I am starting to breath very erratically and the buck fever starts taking over. I look through my scope and it is all blurry. I cannot see the dear clearly, and the crosshairs are invisible. I do notice that he is a very nice buck with a big rack, but that just makes my breathing even worse. I blink to clear my vision and the sight picture becomes clear.

I take deep breath after deep breath to slow my breathing and my heart rate down. As I do this, the crosshairs on the scope move less and less. I finally have gotten myself under control and the scope is still. I exhale, hold my breath, hear Jim say "don't jerk the trigger", and slowly squeeze. The gun fires. I believe that my shot is true. The deer jumps straight up in the air, lands, and bolts into the brush. Jim says, "I think you got him".

I breath again...

Finally!

As I approached my 40th birthday this summer, I told Angie that instead of a big party that I would prefer a guided hunt as a present. She had had her 40th birthday blast about a year and a half earlier and she wanted (and got) the big surprise party. I opted for some quality time in the woods.

In May, she shared with me a hunt idea that she was pursuing. She was looking to get me out to the desert of west Texas for a trophy mule deer hunt. Although this sounded awesome, I thought perhaps it wasn’t the best idea for two reasons: 1) the hunt was VERY expensive and included only the deer and perhaps whatever predators we came across and 2) a desert mule hunt can be very difficult usually consisting of spot and stalk hunting across rugged terrain and ending with a long shot. Truth be told, I am a little intimidated by this kind of hunt, so I suggested she call her cousin Steve.

Steve is my 20-minute Turkey caller. He called two gobblers in within 10 feet of us and we had NO cover with four of us sitting in the wide open. He is a very gifted hunter – knowing the game very well. He always puts his son in a position to harvest a big deer and I trust his opinions and instinct. We shared the lease last year and I hope to get to hunt with him and his son many more times.

Angie called him and he put us in touch with his friend Jim in Laredo, Texas. This friend owns 1,100 acres of high-fenced ranch outside of Laredo. His hunt is all-inclusive and is about half the price of the muley hunt and includes a trophy whitetail. Now, the whitetail will likely be much smaller than the muley I might have gotten, but considering I’ve never even scoped a buck, I will be more than happy with anything that I get. Add the fact that he has hogs, javelin and predators on the property that I may shoot at and I think this hunt is a much better value. Add a possible doe harvest and it could be a very productive weekend.

Jim has been sending us pictures from his trail cams. The deer are VERY large and quite numerous. He’s also regaled us with stories of the hogs and javelin and a very mature diamondback rattlesnake that accosted him in one of the ground blinds. I am very much looking forward to the hunt that begins Friday afternoon. Angie is coming but is not too happy that it will be warm and that the snakes will be active (we’ve both purchased snake chaps for protection).
Angie will be coming with me on Friday afternoon’s hunt. She will cammo up and she will be in the blind. However, the only thing she will be shooting is the video camera.

Her anticipated part of the trip is the ride to Laredo. We are planning on taking two days to get down there with a stopover about midway in Fredericksburg. I’ll be updating Facebook and this blog the whole time. I have told her that she is in charge for these two days. If she says turn left, I turn left. If she wants to stop in a small town and go antiquing, I pull over and go shopping. For her birthday, I gave her an itinerary of small towns and printouts of their antique stores. She is definitely looking forward to the first two days…

…Friday afternoon, not so much (although, truth be told it’s the whole idea of the possibility of coming across a rattler that is what she’s concerned about).

Me? I’m going to enjoy the whole time. Being alone with her and hunting are two of my all-time favorite activities. Whether we score a big buck or not, this will be a 40th to remember, even if it is six months after the fact.

Some things are worth the wait.

SL

Exchanging Pheasant Trees

On Saturday, Utah opened its pheasant season. I didn’t think much of it as we were scheduled to hunt ducks that day.

When the ducks didn’t materialize that morning, we decided to cut out and get a big breakfast at the nearest Cracker Barrel. Fortunately for us, the trip took us through the fields of rural Utah County. We passed many lines of hunters carrying shotguns, retrieving dogs, and families enjoying the beautiful weather.

However, as we drove away from the lake, the most incredible sight any of us ever saw happen right in front of our eyes…about fifteen pheasant flew in front of the truck from the hill on the right to the brush on the left.

Jeremy immediately pulled the truck to the side of the road and got out. He stated putting his waders on. I asked him what was up and he informed me that he was going after those pheasant as there were plenty of roosters in that flight. I didn’t fancy putting my waders back on and he informed me that it was pretty marshy where they landed, so I told him I’d wait for him at the truck. However, Rob said he was going in without waders, so I grabbed a gun and a couple of shells and dove in with the rest of the group. We lined up about 30 feet apart…Rob on the left, Rob’s son next, then me and finally Jeremy on the right. We began walking forward.

After several minutes, we knew we were getting close – we had to be as the lake was fast approaching. Another step and out came a bird. It was literally 10 feet directly in front of me. Unfortunately, it lacked the beautiful red color of a rooster and was obviously a hen. You are not permitted to shoot the ladies, so I let it go.

In an instant, pheasant after pheasant flushed. Shotguns blasted.

When the smoke cleared, we all missed. The several roosters in the group had flown away safely.
We walked back to the truck amazed at the experience that we just had…a five minute pheasant hunt in the middle of our duck hunt.

Perhaps next year we will plan on a real pheasant hunt as part of our waterfowl weekend.

SL

Ducks and Cover

This weekend I participated in my annual Utah duck hunt hosted by Jeremy and Robert Hunter…I’ve worked with Jeremy for almost a decade and we share a real passion for hunting. He’s appropriately named, for sure.

We met at 5:00am at the park and ride – I was waiting as the Hunter’s pulled up with their boat. They have a great little john boat with sides that popup as blinds. About a month ago, Rob’s wife painted the outside of the boat in a cammo pattern so it looks real sweet. It’s got three seats and although a little unstable for three people to hunt from, but it is perfect to use to get out to where we are hunting. They’ve got a very large number of decoys, mojo’s and feeder-butts, so they added a sled this year. They pull the sled full of decoys behind the boat. Additionally, Jeremy jerry-rigged a step on the front of the boat so you can step up and get into it without fear of tearing your waders. I don’t know what they will have next year, but some kind of chair for standing/sitting in the water or some kind of stabilizer to shoot safely from the boat is a good bet. Oh, and they were waxing wishfully about something called a muddy–buddy motor to get them through the shallows much more quickly than the 5-hp lawnmower engine they have today.

Ultimately, I was just happy to be in a boat. My Texas-based experience of duck hunting is that it is very hard work, often trudging through waist-high water or knee-high mud for an hour to get to your spot. And, after getting to your spot, not seeing any duck not to mention shooting at any.

So, it doesn’t much matter to me that we went out three times over two days and got skunked twice.

On our first morning we got out into the water and set up pretty late. In fact, it was after 7am by the time we were ready to go. However, the duck that flew into our decoys while we were setting up told us we were going to have a great day. It was to be a lie.

Jeremy and his brother are great hosts and allowed me the first shot. A swimmer entered our decoys. Most of the time, the ducks that swim in are coots; a duck that forages in the mud and tastes appropriately bad. This time, however, this was a real duck. As the duck took off I shot. We had blood in the boat, a golden-eye hen. As I retrieved my duck, I got stuck out in the open. As it usually happens, when someone is not prepared, the ducks come. In fact, two came in a buzzed right over Jeremy and Rob back near the boat. Unfortunately, they flew right in my direction and no one could safely shoot. The circled and crossed us again, everyone taking a shot but all of us missing. They flew off and I hurried back to the boat.

As you would expect, as I returned, the ducks stopped showing up. For a while, ducks would fly around the perimeter of our set up, ignore our calls, and fly off. Rob got bored and took the boat to see what else was going on. While he was away, a flock of gadwalls flew directly overhead. Jeremy and I dropped one each. While he was scouting, Rob bagged a pintail. Later on, I took a coot figuring I would try and eat it – but I was dissuaded from my plan.

We stayed out for a little longer enjoying the beautiful weather and the amazing scenery. Even if the hunting is slow, I can just look around and enjoy the beautiful mountains that surrounded us on every side. We decided to call it a day and motored back to the car.

We decided when we were finished in the morning to return for an evening session. We were a little disappointed with the showing, so we thought we’d try again. Last year, we scored three in the boat, so our five actually an ok day one.

That evening however, and the next morning, for that matter was more of the same – ducks either completely ignoring us or taking a look by flying the perimeter, but never coming in. It was a completely foreign frustration. Last year, Rob was able to turn any duck and convince it to flair into our spread for a good shot. In fact, we killed fifteen ducks on day two last year…this time? Nada. Nothing even came close. The only interesting thing about our evening was a couple of flights of Canadian geese that flew overhead. We shot at them – all of us unloading our weapons, but they were out of range.

By then, the sun was beginning to hide behind a mountain to the west. A beautiful site for sure, but one that also let us know our day was over. Beside, the mosquitoes started swarming by that point, so it was time to go.

The morning of day two (our last hunting opportunity) was more of the same without the geese or the mosquitoes. We gave up early and decided to call it a day.

That was before we realized it was opening day of pheasant season – but that is a story for another time.

SL

Change of Scenery

I guess all that was needed was a change...

I decided to hunt section #2435 tonight. It's in Blackland, TX and I had scoped out the field last week. It is a 160 acre field with a V shaped border facing a couple of farm roads. It's unimproved pasture, so it doesn't have anything to pull in the doves other than a small tank, which is where I parked, with my back to the boundary (and a tree to provide some cover and shade).

I set my decoys up at the edge of the water and waited. I got their about 4pm, so I expected some company but there was no one there. I began to wonder if this was going to be a good spot after all. The fact that I didn't see any dove and didn't hear anyone shooting in the distance and I really started to wonder if this was going to be a continuation of the slow action from last week.

About thirty to forty-five minutes later others started arriving, and so did the doves.

It's amazing to see the difference in some people. Some were very courteous, apologizing as they walked past me to get to their spot. Others - they just took up a spot that was well within shooting distance and within the range of fire. I couldn't believe this idiot twosome who sat right along the water not 50 yards from me. As they eyed my decoys, I spoke up - I was afraid they were gonna shoot them, they moved on...what a bunch of bozos.

Regardless, having other shooters in the area helps stir up the birds. In fact, the one I bagged tonight was driven right to me from another group of shooters who missed. I used to not want to see others around - like all of the dove were just for me and I didn't want to share the area with them. Now, I want to see others around and hear them shooting. If often means that the birds are headed in my direction. The fact of the matter is that some of the nicest people I have met are the hunters with which I share public land. They are friendly, helpful, willing to share information and tips, and (for the most part) are respectful of rules, courtesy, and fair chase.

I ended shooting about a box worth of shells. There was a lot of stop and go action. The bird I harvested approached me head on (after being fired on). As I stood up to take aim, veered to my left a little. I led him perfectly and fired. He folded and dropped. Unfortunately, he dropped on the wrong side of the boundary fence by about 15 feet - and in some pretty thick stuff. I decided to quickly jump the fence and look for him. About twenty minutes later, I gave up - frustrated again.

I went to sit and hunted for about another half hour when I got up and searched some more. I was so pissed that I couldn't find another and I knew about where he landed, I really spotted it well when it fell. After about five minutes I found him - my first of the season. Unfortunately, some fire ants found him, too, so I had to clean them off of him - getting stung a couple times in the process. It was worth it.

After hunting several more hours and shooting and missing a lot, I called it a night. I know it's only one, but hopefully I'll add to him and turn a small snack into a meal. I used my vacuum packer that Angie bought me last Christmas for the first time, so I have one little dove breast in the freezer. This one has my sister's name on it, but I'm hoping for many more.

SL

Half The Battle

I was back at it this morning. I'm lucky - I can go hunt for a couple hours and still be at work around 9AM.

I went to the same location as on Wednesday, location #2266 in Royce City. I brought my dove decoys with me on this one. I'm not entirely convinced they work - certainly not like duck decoys, but hey - any little bit helps.

I set the mojo dove with a couple of still ones and prepared for the action. I immediately noticed that it was very still - not a breeze to speak of which made it a little steamy. I soon found out that the birds were as still as the wind. There was nothing for at least an hour.

In fact, I didn't even hear a lot of shots around me. There was a father/son duo to my right about 100 yards away and I never heard them shoot - not once. There were only a couple of shots in the distance. Apparently, there were no doves flying. Perhaps the thunderstorms that moved in last night changed their behavior.

After a couple of hours, and as many birds you could count on one hand - A pair came in - they approached me a little left to right. As they entered into range, I shot. The dove folder and fell. Unfortunately, it fell into about 5 foot high grass and weeds about 20 yards away. I marked the spot and started to retrieve. I had to cross a very steep dry creek and when I took my eyes off the location I lost the spot. I knew the general location so I headed over and started the search. I looked through that stuff which was very thick for a half hour. I couldn't find my bird. Their coloring makes them disappear on the ground and unless the field is tilled, it is very hard to find them. I hate that. It seems wasteful, and frankly I don't get enough not to harvest what I shoot. Makes me really want a dog as shooting them is only half the work necessary to harvest.

I returned to my spot empty handed and continued for a little while longer, not seeing any more doves.

I did check out a new spot about 20 minutes to the south, in Blackland. As I drove there, I saw a great many dove...on the power lines, on the side of the road, on fences and in flight. By the time I got to the new spot it was passed the good time to hunt, but I hope to try it out this weekend. Maybe a afternoon hunt on Sunday.

In addition to that, Angie agreed to a weekend dove hunt/camping trip. Not sure where we will go yet, but we're thinking of taking a road trip down south a little.

Anyone have any suggestions as to where there's good dove numbers on accessible land?

SL

Optimism Remains

The first time out is preceded by an optimism like no other.

I figured since this was only the second morning of the season and I've seen a lot of dove all over the place that I would have fast and furious action for a while. As I drove to my spot, I scared up a good number of dove that were feeding in the road. In fact, within 10 minutes of legal shooting time, I had my first shot at a dove crossing from right to left. I missed, but the familiar adrenalin rush was back and thoughts of a freezer full of dove breast began to coalesce in my mind. I was sure that this is the year I get to try out my vacuum sealer to keep a couple examples of that wonderful dark meat dove breast in good condition for my sister's visit in November.

We'll, that was at 6:40am and a lot changed from that point. I sat and scoured the skies for flights of doves for several hours this morning. I took four shots in total, all misses. All of the doves I shot at were singles flying right to left. I saw several more flights, most out of range and one pair that snuck up on me. By the time I saw them, my chance to shoot was gone.

However, there were a number of shotgun blasts all around me. Clearly, there were doves flying - just not so much in my area. Although I was well concealed, the recently harvested field I was hunting over must not have provided enough food and the trees to my back must not have been roosting spots.

Even without a ton of action and with no success, I still love being out in the field. I enjoyed the orange sun as it rose through a clearing in the trees to my back. As I sat there, I thought of what being outdoors means to me. After a long hot summer, being outside before the sun came up was a wonderful change. In fact, it was a little cool this morning. There was a breeze which made the temperature perfect. It was so refreshing - sort of like an ice cold glass of bottled water. The tap is good, but not nearly as much as a glass from the bottle (at least here in Dallas). Being outside was like that. It IS like that. Especially after being cooped up all summer.

Maybe that's why I love dove hunting so much - or all hunting. I am outside, not in a centrally air conditioned house or outside sweating my you-know-whats-off, but outside drinking in the fresh air, the sounds of nature and connecting with the earth, and with God. When hunting alone, I can spend much of my time in prayer conversing with the Almighty. When not alone (usually with Dylan), dove hunting affords an opportunity to talk - as silence isn't nearly as important as concealment.

So, although I got skunked today, it was great to be out. I don't know if I will have a lot of success this year, but it won't be for lack of trying.

And, as I departed the hunting area, I passed a field of milo that hasn't been harvested yet. I know where my next hunting spot is going to be.

It would seem that my optimism remains.

SL

See, I Wasn't Lying

Not a day after I posted about public hunting in Texas, the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department (TPWD) posted this video. They say a picture is worth a 1,000 words and they are right. This video covers public land availability better than I could. And, it's got some neat dove hunting video, too!

I'm going to show this to Cassie and see if she changes her mind about coming with her dad into the field. She's been reluctant, even with promises of pink guns and special time with dad. Maybe seeing another girl with her dad will help convince her.



SL

Hunting In Public

It begins again.

A wonderful thing happens in Texas beginning with September 1st; the date marks the beginning of hunting season - more specifically, the beginning of mourning dove season in North Texas. This is a time of year that I look forward to and it goes all the way into January - which is typically the end of the winter hunts. In fact, other than for spring turkey season, the winter contains almost all of the hunting we can do in Texas.

For September and October, my time will be spent in fields with shotgun in hand watching for doves to come into range. Dove hunting isn't so much as hunting as it is shooting. Unfortunately, shooting and missing is more common as doves can fly extremely fast, they seem to have an innate ability to shuck and jive when being shot at, and become extremely wary as the season progresses. In fact, even with a great deal of time spent in the fields, I only bagged one dove last year. The year before I scored significantly more, but had better spots. This year, I will be dove hunting public lands exclusively as we did not renew the lease in Honey Grove from last year.

Because Angie arranged for my trophy white tail hunt in November, we decided that spending additional money on a lease wasn't in the budget for this season. That means that except for two and a half wonderful days in Laredo, I will likely not be hunting mammals this winter - unless, of course, I get selected for a public hunt.

Texas puts aside over 1 million acres for public hunting. Several of the areas are by permit only and the only way to obtain a permit is to win the lottery for a particular area. Last week I spent several hours putting together my entries for permits. I entered Dylan and I in several deer hunts, a wild hog hunt, a javelina hunt, and a spring turkey hunt. If our entry is selected, we'll have a three day weekend in the particular unit.

The state does a good job of managing the entire process. Each entry cost $3 per adult and the chances of getting selected for some units are actually pretty good. Each year you aren't selected, you get an additional entry point in that category for the following year. At some point, we'll get selected and have an awesome weekend adventure. The javelina hunt, for example, is in the mountains of West Texas near Mexico. If we get to go, it will be a long drive but a great adventure.

Our entries for this year include the following:

Pat Mayse Wildlife Management Area (WMA) - Gun Deer, either sex (limit: 3 deer, one buck). There are 60 permits available and last year they had 150 entries. Hunter success in bagging a deer was 30%.

Cooper Lake WMA - Gun Deer, antlerless or spike (limit: 3 deer, one buck). There are 12 permits available and this is a new location, so there were no hunts last year.

Gus Engling WMA - Gun Deer, management either sex (limit: 3 deer). There are 120 permits and last year they had 833 entries. Last years success was 32%.

Elephant Mountain WMA - Javelina (limit: one javelina and one elk). There are 8 permits available and last year they had 564 applicants for 10 permits. Hunter success was 0%.

Fort Boggy - Feral Hog (limit: unlimited). Last year there were 133 applicants for the 20 permits available with 22% hunter success.

Pat Mayse WMA - Spring Turkey (limit: one gobbler). Last year there were 140 applicants for 32 permits. This year there are 30 permits available. Hunter success was 7%.

As you can see, the state manages an excellent public hunting system. In addition to these hunts, there are several others - including Mule deer, exotics, alligator, and others - including several youth only categories. All are affordable and are located throughout the state so they are reachable regardless of where you live. Except for the Javelina and Hog hunts, all of the hunts we put entries in for are within a couple of hours from the house.

In addition to the hunting opportunities above, the state puts aside a significant portion of land for public dove hunting. A $48 annual public license gets you access to these areas - typically 60+ or more acres of harvested farm land that may, or may not, get a ton of dove fly overs. There are about 1,000 acres close by in Royse City (about 30 minutes from the house) and an additional several hundred acres up north near where the lease was last year. I'm sure I will be out there as much as possible.

Add a possible goose/duck hunt in Wyoming this winter and it should be a full season, even if I'm not in a blind every weekend like I was last year. Unfortunately, if we are going to get a freezer full of meat we'll have to get lucky twice - once to get selected and once to bag some game.

Either way, I will report all of the goings on right here.

SL

A Surprise, Just Not A Party

Angie handed me her laptop and said, "Happy Birthday, sweetheart!" I didn't know what she was doing since I had bought the laptop for her birthday the year previous. As I sat on the hospital bed waiting for my discharge papers, I had no clue as to what she was doing.

What she was doing was trying to make my birthday somewhat special. After being prodded and poked and worked out on the treadmill on minimal sleep and even less food, I think she felt bad that my birthday was a bust. (Truth be told, she hadn't done anything for my birthday because I wasn't supposed to be home, I was supposed to be in Raleigh working.)

So, she came to the hospital today with some KFC and a birthday cake. I had just eaten the lunch that the hospital provided, so I think she wanted to do SOMETHING special - even if it was small. And, she decided to let me know what my present was...

Now, you have to step back about a year and a half to understand how our birthdays were planned. A year and a half ago, I had thrown Angie a big surprise 40th birthday bash with 50 of her closet friends and kids, catering from her favorite restaurant, etc. etc. That party was awesome and I assumed when I turned 40 she'd reciprocate.

Then, last year, I bought a rifle and hunted. At that point, I knew that for my birthday I didn't want a party but a hunt where I could have a reasonable chance at a large deer. Not necessarily a trophy buck, but something large enough to hang on a wall while filling my freezer. She's been tight lipped since then. If I asked her about it or even mentioned it, she'd give me that look she has; the look that says, "shut up!" For the most part, I'd shut up.

About a week ago I walked in on her while she was on the phone with someone...it was evident that she was planning my present. (Either that or she just got busted having an affair and since I really didn't think that was the case, I knew it was for a hunt). I honored her request not to bug her, so I didn't even ask. She asked if I wanted to fly or drive and indicated that she would accompany - but that was all she gave me.

Until she handed me her laptop. On the page, I saw:
I was blown away. She indicated that we'd be going for the pre-rut package. She then showed me pictures of the ranch, lodging, food, etc. I can't wait. This is going to be a hunt of a life time for me. If I never shoot at a trophy again, I know that this is the trip to savour and enjoy.

I don't have a lot of details yet and I have a list of questions for her and the ranch...but, Angie is real dedicated to pulling this off all by herself. I don't think she understands this, but she took such great care of me at the hospital and she's doing all the work for this hunt that even though I spent my 40th birthday in the hospital, this has been a really awesome birthday.

SL

Back in the Saddle

For the last twelve days, I haven't given too much thought about work. I've checked e-mail and even took care of a customer issue, but not much else. Because of this, I haven't been on my personal computer a lot, either. Add to this the fact that we've had New York family in town for the last week, and I've been busy playing tourist and host instead of blogging. I meant to remedy that today with a summary of my cousins' visit.

That'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Today, regular deer season ended and I spent the last four hours of the season at the lease.

I didn't have many expectations, as I hadn't seen game in over a month. But, I thought I would sit in the popup blind, out of the wind and in a comfy seat, to close out the season. My expectations were so low that I didn't even worry about the fact that I couldn't find my hunting knife. There wasn't going to be anything needing cutting, right?

Wrong!

The first hour and a half were spent more trying to stay awake than anything. In fact, I think I took a little nap. However, I eventually got a second wind, and started actively looking. There have been several times that actively looking (instead of just sitting there hoping something comes out into the open) has paid off. The first was when I saw a doe in the trees. She ended up coming into the feeder and I was in shooting position because I was alert. Had she been a buck, I would have had more venison in the freezer. That was a couple of weeks ago, but the same thing happened today.

I saw a glimmer of movement in the trees. This made me more alert. I saw more movement behind the brush in front of the feeder. It was a deer. I started looking for horns, but the deer never lifted its head to where I could see. Then, it was gone.

However, I kept alert. I saw more movement by the feeder. Except this time, I watched as a hog fed itself. Again, a shot didn't present itself, but I kept watching. It disappeared behind the brush and into the treeline. I kept alert and saw movement in the woods. As I tracked it's movement from left to right, I remained ready with my rifle up. I switched from one window in the blind to another, hoping that the hog would continue.


I was convinced I lost my opportunity when the hog appeared from behind some brush. I placed the cross-hairs behind its ear and fired. The shot was true and the hog dropped. After floundering for a minute or two it was still. I chambered another and kept my rifle on it for another several minutes.

Upon inspection, this hog was much larger than the first. It is perhaps three hundred pounds and not stinky. I called Angie's uncle and cousin as I needed help cleaning the hog (didn't have a knife) and lifting it into the truck.

They came and we took pictures and tried to field dress it. However, the knife they brought wasn't sharp enough to cut the thick tough hide. We called the processor and he told me to bring it over. We could use their knives or someone there would do it.

So, on the last day of deer season I got another hog.

Good thing, too, as we were running low on breakfast sausage.

SL