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

Fresh Fish

Yesterday, I posted about my deep sea fishing excursion off of the coast of Florida.

Today, I am going to share a much different fishing story.

The weather was so pleasant here in North Texas that when Cassie asked me if we could do something outside, I jumped at the offer. We had been talking about fishing because of my trip, so I just threw it out there, "Would you like to go to the park and fish? You could bring your scooter, too."

When she said yes, I was pleasantly surprised.

I packed up the poles and tackle box. Mom put together a cooler of snacks and Cassie got her scooter. We stopped at a gas station on the way, picked up some drinks and some minnows.

We got to the fishing area and noticed that the wind was up, and it was blowing very hard right into our faces. This was not going to be good weather for casting, so I added a couple of weights to each of the rigs. I baited one pole, then another. Cassie wasn't too interested in fishing to start, so she went off exploring and playing with the dog.

She quickly tired and came to me for a pole. I gave her one and kept the other and we waited. She then stated she thought she had a fish. Her line was not taught, so I told her probably not. She started reeling in and mom confirmed that she saw her pole bend. I was skeptical and took her pole. I reeled in a little and said, "nope, no fish sweetie." I gave her the pole back.

She continued to reel in stating she had a fish. I doubted it until we saw silver at the top of the water. She reel him in, a pretty good sized fish. I didn't know what kind of fish it was, noting that the mouth was pretty small. I asked someone else at the fishing area and he said he thought it was a small mouth bass. We took the obligatory pictures, and thinking he was too small to keep (small mouth are 14 inch minimums), we released him - he swam away and we hugged and high-fived.

I told Cassie how proud I was of her. In fact, the entire afternoon she was a very conscientious fisher. She watched her line and remained patient. She was rewarded, too - as she was the only person to catch fish in that area that we saw. Funny, but the guy that I asked what kind of fish we had was pretty pissed off at her, stating that he fished all day and didn't get a bite and we come and get a fish pretty quick.

I printed a big copy of our picture and I will be placing it on my trophy wall with all of my other trophies. However, as I started looking at it, I started doubting that it was a small mouth. There are just no vertical stripes. In fact, there aren't any real stripes at all. I pulled out the Texas Parks and Wildlife Hunting and Fishing Annual and now believe that she caught a white bass. The minimum on these fish is only 10 inches. I'm thinking she might have had a keeper.

All I know is that the memory of her first fish will stay with me. She may forget about it, but I was as happy as if I had caught the fish. I'm hoping that she wants to go more often...perhaps more outdoor type activities will be in our future.

Now that would be a keeper.

SL

Salty Fish

I had the good fortune to have my travel to Amsterdam cancelled this week due to the volcanic ash cloud of 2010.

In fact, the ash cloud and the chaos to air travel that is caused was a blessing in disguise for a couple of reasons. The first that it kept me in the US. The second that it kept several others from coming to the US. These cancellations opened a spot at a vendor event to which I was invited as a last minute replacement.

The vendor event was in West Palm Beach and it was excellent. Great speakers, a good opportunity to get to know a prospective vendor better, a similar opportunity to get to know a colleague, and finally a couple of days of excellent food, great drink and some deep sea fishing.

Out fishing excursion closed the event. We boarded the bus from the hotel to the marina at 8:00am. At the marina, we learned that our boat was a no show, so we boarded another and were taxied to another marina to board a replacement. This may have been another blessing in disguise as our captain and our mate were top notch and put us on the fish.

We motored to our fishing area and I the mate placed our lines. We had six or even our with a couple of teasers and waited. We were going for sailfish, swordfish, dolphin fish, tuna and wahoo. The first strike ended with no fish on a hook, but that got all of our blood flowing. We also had to pick the order and as the prospective client, I was given the honor. A little while later, we had another strike. The mate coaxed the fish to bite again and it was fish on...he handed the pole to me and it was my turn to work.

The fish was taking line out fast, and I didn't realize I was supposed to be reeling in, so I let him take even more. I was yelled at for not reeling, so I started. Instantly, I was tired. It felt like a monster. I reeled for what felt like forever. As the line started getting closer to the boat I saw a glimmer of silver. I was instructed to step back with the pole and the mate brought the fish on board. It was a Bonita - a trash fish that is used for bait. I didn't care. First, I was exhausted. Second, I was ecstatic. Third, the fish was beautiful - blue and silver with these amazing black patterns on its back. He had the fish in the hold and I took a look at him. I commented how pretty its markings were, and the mate informed me that Bonita is Spanish for "pretty". Made sense to me. We made note of the time, 10:15am as I sat down with a celebratory beer.

As we progressed through the rest of the order, we caught more Bonita. The last of the five on the boat brought in a pretty, if not small, black fin tuna. We finally had a game fish on board.

I was up again and brought in my own small black fin. A very pretty fish and a little easier to reel in.

We ended up going through the order again and caught another black fin, more Bonita, and a blue runner (another trash fish used for bait).

I actually got to go again and brought in another Bonita. Not as big as the first and not as difficult to bring in. I was thankful, as my arms had had enough.

All in all, we caught twelve fish. Enough to win most fish on the boat. The next closest to us had only 5. One out of the six boats that went out was skunked. We also learned that my first was the first for all of the boats, so I ended up winning two wonderful bottles of wine.

As we shared fish stories over an amazing lunch of fresh seafood, we learned that the largest fish of the day went to someone who brought in a 13.5 foot tiger shark. The pictures of that were awesome.

There is a saying that goes, "a bad day on the water beats a good day on land". Thankfully, we didn't have to test its validity. We had a great day on the water.

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

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

Pictures From Vacation

Our condo. The decor was beautiful and the location was perfect. About a 60 second walk to the boat slip and about 2 seconds to the pool. It was a short drive to Hot Springs from here, as well. All for a reasonable price, too. Angie now swears by the site: homeaway dot com.

Our boat. A 2009 21-foot party barge by Sun Catcher. It was awesome, except for the 115-hp 4-stroke motor. It was a little under powered for tubing and knee-boarding. If the kids skied we wouldn't have been able to do it. We tooled around the lake pretty good for two days and used only 30 gallons of the 40 gallon tank. We are sold on a pontoon and are now looking for a fishing version.

Cassie posing as she does in every picture. The marina was nice enough to let us borrow the three life vests so the kids could be safe. If you are ever in need of a boat on Lake Hamilton, check them out - they were very friendly and reasonable. Hot Springs Marina

Marissa knee-boarding. She was really good when she wanted to be out there. However, I think she would have been happier staying in the room and texting the whole time. She surprised me with how good she was.

Dylan swinging off one of the several islands in Lake Hamilton. We were told to stay off of them, but this swing was just too alluring to Dylan and the many other boats that anchored here to let their kids play. Dylan played here for what seemed like hours while Cassie, Marissa, Mom and I swam, ate, and sunned.

The goofy hat that Angie thought hilarious. She's still upset I didn't let her buy it and has taken to the Internet looking for the hat for me. I can think of a thousand of better things to do with $22.

The top of the hot spring cascade looking down. Standing over this place you could feel the heat and the steam coming out of the spring. Apparently, it heats to almost 150 degrees. I could really understand why the bath houses were so popular. The story goes that 5 separate tribes of American Indians would bathe in the waters under treaty, so that all were welcome. De Soto was shown the springs by the American Indians in the 1600's. The last bath house closed in 1983, although one remains open as a spa, offering the tradition bath as done 100 years ago.

One of many pictures of the kids getting along. They were awesome all week. Too bad they don't get along as good all the time, but if they are going to pick a week to do it - I am thankful it is vacation week.

A picture of the spring through a restored bath house that now serves as a National Park. The self tour through the Fordyce Bath House which is now run by the US Parks Department provided an opportunity to experience what the guests of the spa would experience. From the gymnasium, to the baths, to the cooling room, etc. the bath house is restored to its condition from its hey day in the early 1900's.

One of the few times that Angie didn't have the camera. We're tired, hot and sweaty - but also enjoying a week together with each other and the kids.

A family picture in front of the collection area for the cascade. Dylan walked up to it, plunged his hand deep into the water, and immediately screamed. It was HOT! But seeing the spring, and feeling its heat, it really helped us understand the allure of the baths. Then, we read about how the waters are from rain on the tops of the mountains from several thousands of years ago. Once again, Hot Springs became an intellectual puzzle.

All of us building a structure meant to survive a simulated earthquake. The kids were learning even though they just thought it was play. It was something we all did together, as well. The building did NOT survive.

Marissa posing by our arch. We all put it together and prayed it stay up. It did!

Don't know what this was called, but we filled it with sand and started it swinging. The sand came out of the bottom as it swung making a pretty design. I think the kids learned some patience on this one.

Angie and I snuggling. Actually, my skin isn't that dry and hers is really soft. However, she liked this picture because the gator at the bottom just crawled up to the gator on the top and put its arm around it. Pretty sweet for a cold blooded reptile.

Angie about to get Syphilis. Al Capone would frequent Hot Springs because of the soothing aspect of the baths; apparently he had a pretty bad case. He would rent out the entire fourth floor of the Arlington Hotel (his favorite room was room 442).

SL

Hot Is More Than A Name

Last week, Angie and I took the kids to Hot Springs, Arkansas for our family vacation. The decision to go to Hot Springs was made as the result several variables...the most important of which was that the vacation had to be affordable. We are saving for our 'no expense spared' vacation to all things Disney next year, so we wanted something that wasn't going to break that budget.

Secondly, the kids wanted to be near water (not surprising since they are part fish). The difficulty was deciding which type of water, salt or fresh. We considered the gulf coast, from Corpus Christi, TX all the way to Destin, FL. In the end, the kids wanted fresh water because of the options it provided - boating, tubing, knee boarding and fishing.

Once we new it was fresh water, we started searching for lakes. We wanted to go out of state for something new...and Angie found an affordable condo on the shores of Lake Hamilton near Hot Springs. That type of destination was perfect...several days of boating and a couple of days of sightseeing and other fun activities.

We left on Monday and drove north east through East Texas and ultimately to Texarkana where we stopped for lunch. Texarkana is the halfway point from Dallas to Hot Springs and the bulk of the trip travelled along I-30 which runs pretty close to our house. We arrived at the condo and got our bearings. The kids tried out the pool, we drove through downtown Hot Springs, we found our boat slip and the marina where we were to pick up our pontoon boat for a two day rental.

The first two days (Tuesday and Wednesday) were spent almost entirely on the water. Thanks to the GPS on my iPhone we were able to locate our position at all times on the lake. On day one, we checked out the lake, tubed, knee-boarded and swam. We all got sunburned pretty bad, as well. We did the same on day 2, but explored other sections of the lake.

Everyone enjoyed being on the water as there was a little bit for everyone. The kids played in the water, Angie and her mom looked at the million dollar homes, and I played Captain Scott. It was fantastic and cemented our decision to purchase a boat soon.

We played minigolf the first evening - Dylan beat Angie and I by a stroke with Cassie coming in a distant fourth. It was HOT, but we had a good time. The second evening, we drove through Hot Springs trying to get an idea as to what we wanted to do the next day. Whenever we weren't doing anything, we were swimming at the pool at the condo.

On Thursday, we went into Hot Springs. We walked 'Bath House Row' taking in the National Park tour and checking out the spas. That was really interesting. At the end of bath house row is a cascade from the spring. As we walked to it, we could feel the heat coming off of it. Dylan plunged his hand into the water and quickly pulled it out as the water can reach 147^o Fahrenheit. It wasn't until we saw the spring and felt the water that the history of the bath houses came alive. Once we could feel the heat of the water, we could imagine the crowds bathing and soaking in what they believed to be the healing powers of the waters.

We continued down Central Ave. and ended up at "The Gangster Museum of America". An hour later we knew we had been had. Basically the museum consisted of small exhibit areas where they make you watch a 5-10 minute film on the history of organized crime, corruption, and gambling in Hot Springs. Although interesting, the way the museum presented the information was horrible. Thankfully, although dreadfully bored, the kids behaved wonderfully. We ended the day back at the pool and with a pizza dinner. The memory of the wasted hour at TGMOA faded.

Friday was supposed to be just a leisurely drive home day, but the museum really soured us (and we wanted to end on a good note since the kids had been so well behaved), we decided to add a couple of stops to our itinerary.

The first stop was "The Arkansas Alligator Farm and Petting Zoo". Now, I understand that anything with "petting zoo" in the name is going to suck, but the kids were into it, so we went. Our expectations were low and were met. The petting zoo had some goats and a donkey. We weren't allowed near the deer that were advertised. I've been to better petting zoos at the fair or at the zoo. This one was really bad. The rest of the place was poorly done, as well. The alligator pits were what you'd expect and the cougars and wolf were pathetic. I really felt bad for them in their small enclosures. The rest of the animals didn't look so great either. The kids were happy, so when it comes to something like that, it's all that counts.

Our last stop was the "Mid America Science Museum" where we could touch and do the activities. Dylan was the only kid who wanted to go, but the girls persevered. Once we got their, they were pleasantly surprised - and so was I. We built bridges, boats, airplanes, buildings, windmills and a ton of other structures - all to see various scientific properties. The kids thought it was about playing with stuff, but we know better. They were learning, and so were the grownups. Their 1.5M volt Tesla coil was my favorite - and I learned that Tesla was working on wireless power long before Apple, Sony and IBM.

We left the museum, and Arkansas at about 3:30. We stopped at Ta Molly's on I-30 on Greenville, TX. I mention that because the food was some of the BEST Mexican that we've ever had. If you ever have opportunity to eat at one of them, do so - it is fabulous.

We came home to two very excited dogs and crashed...although vacations are wonderful, it is ALWAYS great getting home. And, it is unbelievable how tired you are when you do get home. I know that for now on, I will always include a weekend between the end of a vacation and a return to work - so I can rest from what was supposed to be a restful week.

SL

Hair Raising Sound

There are few things on earth that cause me to get spooked. When I say spooked, I mean the kind of eerie feeling that makes your stomach queasy and causes a cold chill to go down your spine that ends up raising the hair on the back of your neck.

I’ve felt that way three times in the nine plus years since I moved to Texas.

It’s the feeling you get when you hear a tornado siren.

I’ve written many times about the awesome springtime storms that we experience in North Texas. I’m still unaccustomed to the rage within the thunderstorms that we get. In New York we’d get thunderstorms and some lightening, but nothing like what we get down here. The storms are awesome, and I often sit by the window just to watch the light show.

However, on occasion, the storms are so fierce that they require a bit more diligence. Last night was one such storm. Angie and I were watching a movie in my office when the storm hit. Right outside the window we experienced heavy rain, 70 MPH wind gusts, thunder and lightening. The kids were in bed and Angie commented how they were likely to join us. We turned off the movie and turned on the local news. I put some lights on and got a flashlight in preparation.

The kids didn’t join us – they are hardened to the storms. Dylan complains that he cannot sleep due to the noise on his window, but none of the kids are particularly scared by thunder and lightening – unlike me.

Angie and I noticed that the news wasn’t reporting a whole lot in the way of tornado warnings and the radar wasn’t showing rotations, so we decided to go back to our movie.

Then, things changed and changed fast.

I heard them first. I turned to Angie, “You hear that?” She said “no”.

I muted the movie. The sounds of distant tornado horns could be clearly heard. They sounded like they were from another town, and not the sirens in Rowlett. There are two sirens relatively close to the house and they would have sounded much louder. However, they were loud enough. Marissa joined us first, followed by Dylan. They were scared, but (truth be told) not nearly as scared as me. In fact, my fear has become a little bit of a joke with the kids. Although I try to keep a tough exterior so they aren’t scared, tornados are terrifying to me. Give me a hurricane any day because that is what I grew up on – and they were typically infrequent and weak by the time they got to Long Island. Tornados are killers and I have never been sensitized to them.

We watched the local news and they started to report about the rotations in the front end of the storm. By the time that they formed, they were past us. Those were the horns we heard. I’m still not sure if anything every touched down or not, but I tend to think not since the news isn’t reporting anything except for wind damage. Unfortunately, that cannot be said for Oklahoma, as it appears they had three tornados touch down with this storm, one of which killed several people.

I remember very clearly the other tornado sirens that I’ve heard. I blogged about the previous one from April 2007. The other was from several years before that as a new Texan. I was working late one evening and heard a funny sound. I didn’t know what the wail of the siren was, but I did get that creepy feeling. Only later did I learn that there had been a tornado.

You know, now that I think about it, it’s the same feeling I got when I experienced a small earthquake in Southern California. Mother nature can be awesome!

I sure do miss those hurricanes.

SL