Date/Subject

11/02/2001 Communications - Yesteryear/Today

11/10/2001 Marine Corps Birthday "Buck"

11/On/2001 Into The Holidays

01/06/2002 More Scoutin' Than Huntin'

01/15/2002 Quick Note

01/26/2002 Buck By Default

01/29/2002 Special Notice

02/00/2002 Willie's Pig Hunt

03/11/2002 Of "Sticks & Strings"

03/25/2002 Speaking Of That

04/01/2002 Easter Hog Hunt

Entry, Nov. 02, 2001

Communications - Yesteryear/Today

The following are messages (e-mail) and it kind of ties in because I used to be in communications during the second half or better of my Marine corps career. The first one is from Ron to me under the subject line of, "You Can't Go Back Home." I've mentioned Ron before in these pages. He was one of the young Marines serving under me (when I was Radio Relay Chief, 7th Marines) that got selected for the Naval Enlisted Scientific Education Program (NESEP) to go to college and become an officer. We were stationed at camp Las Pulgas (The Flea) at Pendleton, CA when all that took place and it seemed like home to a lot of us, including my old buddy, Andy. Ron works at Camp Pendleton as a civilian now and in the message he is referring to revisiting our old camp. It is a trip of nostalgia for both of us and I enjoyed it - hope you will too. After all, "Hunters are people too" - and so are Marines. A few points of clarification are in order for the uninitiated:

Chappo Flats - an area that used to be the old Division Rifle Range

Cannon Cockers - Artillery personnel and/or organizations

garnish nets - the old unpleasant, and demanding act of weaving different colored burlap strips into cargo nets to be used for camouflage of sites/things such as our comm vehicles and locations - most always performed under a scorching sun or in the biting cold

grinder - paved or unpaved parking lot areas used for close order drill, inspections, and other unpleasant duties such as spreading out cargo nets to "play" with

Butler Building - half-round "temporary" government structure like a Quonset Hut only much bigger - they've lasted forever and are still in use all over the country for various purposes

razor wire - security device that used to be known as concertina wire back when it was just coils of barbed wire instead of wire with razor like chips of metal welded on - scary stuff either way

29 Palms - Marine base in the desolate, lousy liberty, high dessert area of northern CA

S/Sgt Rodriquez - Regimental Headquarters Company Police Sergeant (back then), nice guy with a shitty job

ice plant - CA is covered with this succulent type of plant in varying sizes, it makes great ground cover for holding CA's arid soil in place ('til the mud slides come), requires little water, grows like wildfire, and produces beautiful colors of blossoms - Oh yes, it is also a great place for all the animals to take a crap so be careful when trimming it

That being said let me add, "You can take the boy/girl out of the Marines but you can't take the Marines out of the boy/girl." Or to put it in the well worn Marine phrase: There are no "Ex-Marines", only "Former Marines"; just ask one, any one that wasn't cashiered out for bad behavior. What can I say - it is a conditioned response in all Marines, just like "Yes, sir!" Thanks for letting us "ride" with you, Ron.
 
 

"You Can't Go Back Home"

You know the old adage. Well, I tried and it didn't work.

I was in the Chappo Flats area Tuesday afternoon (for you Camp LeJeune
guys,
that's across from the now huge MCAS Camp Pendleton).

I chose to drive out Basilone Road to get to San Clemente and go home.
Stopped
off at Las Pulgas, now owned by the Cannon Cockers 11th Marines. That
was my
mistake. Of course it's changed since I since I served mess duty in
December '59 and
used to garnish nets on the grinder 42 years ago.

The old Comm hut Butler Building is still there but it's now painted
that Desert Storm
baby sh-- tan. It's also surrounded by chain link fence and razor wire.
One window
pane broken out. In fact, that Desert Storm color scheme is all over
everything. There's
now tall trees and a parking area between the end of the grinder and
that road past the
old Comm building.

The old tilt-up barracks and HQ Co office are still there but
surrounded by other
buildings. Of course, the 7th Marines sign, with the Battle Streamers,
is gone --
replaced by a much simpler sign, with painted ribbons like you wear on
your uniform.
7th Marines are now at 29 Palms -- ugh!

In general, it looks run down -- at least compared with my memories. I
remember all
of it looking sharp and clean. S/Sgt Rodriquez used to kick ass on
police details to
keep the ice plant trimmed. Oh well.

But thought you might find it all interesting.

I did read about your hunts -- enough to know that you see more deer in
one day
than my nephew sees in a month. He also has a Mr. Big story about one
that got away.
This thing was running like a bat out of Hell with his right front
shoulder blown out. Four
of us with 3 -wheelers never could find that deer so he probably ended
up dead and
unclaimed. My nephew did get a beautiful Mr. Big a few years back. It was
so good,
it was just shy of enough points to make Boone and Crockett -- 12 pts,
symmetrical
huge forward sweeping rack.

Almost forgot -- my 2nd grandchild, a boy, born yesterday at 1430. 8
lbs 6 oz, 20.75"

S/F,

Ron
 
 

The second is a message from me to Randy that I sent out the morning (11/02/2001) he was to leave on his Illinois swap-hunt trip for the elusive "big buck" of his dreams. It is pretty self explanatory (sent under the subject line, "Scored") except that the reason I couldn't share it with him the night it took place was that he was at one of those great Ducks Unlimited Suppers as a guest. Also the "wagon/cart" I make reference to is the converted stroller I made to haul behind my bike for the Pungo hunt(s) earlier this year. By the by, we had been wet-nursing these sites mentioned in the message off and on all season and just had not been able to connect other than for my brush with that doe early in the bow season. My point being it was not as easy and fast coming as it might sound here. I decided the message made a reasonably good hunt report for this Journal though.

"Scored"

I hope you check your e-mail this AM before you go as I couldn't share this with you last night. I did go
out yesterday PM as per my plan and it paid off. I was in my tree at 3:30 and shot a buck at 4:30.
(Thank you, Lord!) Not a large rack but definitely "my kind" of rack - at first glance you would figure it as
a very gnarly, long-assed cowhorn (long like my one from Maine) - but it actually will count as at least a
five point, maybe six, and that is with one brow tine missing (not broken unless while in velvet but
definitely an old hurt somehow). It is so weird and interesting and has nubs and bumps all over it - nice
color too. He looked old and perhaps wounded in the past - I even couldn't help but think of the buck
you shot on MZ ridge a few seasons back but no proof. His teeth were pretty sharp. His muzzle long and
gray. He may have been coming to touch up his scrapes (in the cubby-hole - don't know if he's the main
scraper or not though, that remains to be seen) after the rain but he headed towards the oldest scrape.
He came in from the left (from the MZ area) down that big trail and turned to go towards either the
scrape or the persimmon trees. I was in "our tree" there in the corner above the little persimmon tree
with all the fruit gone. Took him with my 270 and he weighed 85 field dressed, 115 on the hoof. I had
taken corn out with me and put out scent canisters but he didn't seem to be paying attention to any of
them. (When I went back to get him with my cart I took the rest of the corn over to MZ ridge.) Good
shot although he was turning away as it squeezed off so it caught part of his liver on my side and then
went out the other side where it should have, taking out both lungs. He dropped no blood where I hit
him and ran over behind the tree where the first scrape was and away. It was very wet out there (more
so than I had realized) so blood was diluting as soon as it hit the ground and the forest floor was soft
and muffling all sound. I thought he had run behind those trees and then up the thick-edge and out of the
clearing the way he came - just from the faint sounds of his running that I could pick up. I never found
the first blood until just before the scrape - scary. I was afraid he'd been too close and that I'd shot
over him, when I saw no blood. To make matters worse that first spot (about silver dollar sized) was in
a cupped leaf mixed with water so was thin and I almost missed it. Also it had liver stuff in it so my first
thought was that I'd paunched him and that he would run forever. I found no more blood until I got
around behind the scrape and those little trees - then no more at all. I just followed the way I felt he'd
gone on and around a trail all the way to the edge of the clearing/thick towards MZ ridge - nothing. I
was getting pretty scared but went back to where I'd found the last drop. (Lord, I need some help here,
please!) Then I noticed a dig/divot in the ground where he may have jogged to the right. I went that way
and found a little blood just as he entered the thick. (Thank you, Lord!) I realized there was a game trail
in there also and then I only had to track him. Only one more scare when he made a turn to the left off
the trail and I lost it for a little bit but then stepped back and saw where he'd changed his mind and
turned right back again just as he turned away but had left no blood for a yard or two. I tracked him
through a thick-tunnel and just as I got through it I saw him off to the left. (Thank you, Lord!) I clipped
my tag as if he might get up and run away if I didn't!

Just as I was hooking my safety belt between my harness and my prize (to drag him - Ed) I glanced up and saw we were
right behind your hang-on stand at Cubby Hole #2. I had already decided not to field dress him there and when I saw that
I was doubly glad that I had. I dragged him back out to the Kelly road the way I'd come, picking up my
marker tapes as I went. Then I went back in and got my gear and went back out and to the truck. I got
my cart and the rest of the corn and went to MZ ridge with it, then picked him up on the way out where
I'd stashed him in the bushes beside the road. Loaded him in the cart and walked on out to the truck. I
must say the wagon worked pretty darned slick. I field dressed him over behind the ditch where I park
- where the turkey buzzards will find it real easy and have it gone in a day's time probably. Jabo insisted
on coming over and helping me skin him when he saw him hanging there in the car port where Rose
helped me put him - and I let him. Another great lone-hunt and a plan that worked out well with a lot of
help. The "funky rack" is already drying on the back porch. You'll love it's weirdness.

Hope this will give you a positive start to your trip and inspiration for your Illinois hunt, buddy. Later - B
 
 

As an added note, again I had to practice my discipline of not staring at the antlers or looking in a deer's eyes, as he was very close when he stepped out and was cautiously looking in all directions including mine. However because he was so close and his headgear was so unique, I was aware that he was a "cowhorn" that was not really a cowhorn. At first glance I could see he had a kind of up thingy and some other things going on but that only the main beams had any length. I will try to get a decent picture of it for the Gallery after I mount the "rack". Note: Done now - see Gallery, Pg4, Row 10
 
 

Apparently Randy has access to a computer where he is in Illinois. I don't know if it is his host's (Willie) or what but it is another stroke of luck. It dawned on me when I got his "arrival" message it would fit in well with this story based on messages to include his reports as he files them (if he just keeps it up) so , "You go, buddy!"
 
 

"Blood Already" (Arrival Report, 11/04/2001 - Ed)

Hey, I made it. I got in about 530am but not early enough to join Willie on
a morning hunt. Just miles from his house I almost ran over an 8pt (guessing
140ish P&Y!!!)He called me last night during my drive and said he saw a
135P&Y at 4 yards but too thick to chance an arrow. Went back this morning
and got to within 15 yds. but still too thick. I got in and went to sleep and
when he got home his brother called to say he got one down so we loaded up
and went to drag his deer out. I hadn't been here hardly 2 hours and had
blood on my hands. Man, whatta deer. It was only a 6 pt (looked like 8
without brow tines) but it was close to 200 lbs!!!!! I'm kinda glad we don't
have to drag deer like that!

Spent a good portion of the day scouting and getting familiar with the lay
of the land. Like Philip's...too much good sign! Sat on the edge of a bean
field and saw an 8pt!! Was too far but also too small (only about 12 inch
spread...ahhhh isn't that sick?). Still fun to watch work 2 scrapes.

Going out again in the morning!!! Hope your hunts are going good still.

(Randy - Ed)
 
 

By the way, I don't remember if I mentioned it or not in these journals but from the very first when Randy started arranging his Illinois swap-hunt with Willie, the invitation was extended to me also by both of them. I would have loved to go but those kind of out of state tags are just too rich for my budget. I know there were moments when Randy even had some doubts like, "What am I getting myself into?" It is a long trip by one's self and you never know. He was really hoping either I or Allen would be in attendance but it was not to be. It is plain to see just from his first message that he is happier than a pig in a slop bucket to be there now and we are pulling for a really good (what well may be) once in a lifetime chance for him. We (Allen and I) may get to meet Willie (and a "friend") when he comes to SC for his half (a pig hunt) of the swap-hunt, after this deer season, probably in early 2002.
 
 

11/05-06/2001 - Well, that message report plan fell through the proverbial bottom. Things moved too quickly and Randy's access to a computer was apparently too sporadic. However there is a story to tell - and a good'un! It will be told either through me or perhaps by catch-up messages from Randy when he gets to read my request to him regarding messages about the hunt. I do know he passed on a couple eight pointers on the "smallish" (in his own words, "ain't that sick") side. Seems he was getting a little impatient seeing those kind (not the norm for us) and letting them walk while waiting for a larger one. It turned out to be a good thing because I also know he did get a great bow harvest that is a "Harvey Wall Hanger" and The Ranman is on his way home with the evidence as we speak. As best as I could cipher from his screams and babbles it was an 8-pointer also but in the 200 pound neighborhood and with a 19 inch rack spread - about a 120 class deer. Needless to say I am really pleased for him. He is probably driving about 10 or 20 yards above the ground if his state of excitement on the phone was any indication. Accomplished after only three days there, at that. Oh, he will take a short detour to SC on his way back to share with his family. I know all this because of a couple phone calls. Watch for the story and pics (I hope) at least of the rack and/or future "mount". He said it is not a "book buck" but I pointed out (and he readily agreed) that it is in "Randy's Book" for sure. Note: I "ciphered" wrong on one statistic - it was a 9-pointer, not 8. See pics on Gallery, Pg4, Row 10. Hopefully Randy will provide us with his take on the exciting story in the near future. I'll insert it here when it is written by either him or me.

Randy's Illinois Buck - The Ranman has asked me to scribe the tale so I'll do the best I can manage without even having been in the area. It's a hoot to write about a hunting buddy's once in a lifetime (to date) hunt because you just know how excited he had to be. Randy has been hungering for some "real bones" (antlers) ever since I've known him. While he's been fortunate enough to take a goodly number of deer (and mostly with a bow) his quest for the bones has pretty much fallen short of his desires. I can empathize with him although I've been very blessed with interesting antlers at least. I think (not sure) his best was the 7-point velvet he took in SC last fall and then Sassy, the wonder dog ate those on him. After all, waterfowl are her things, "Why would the boss want to keep perfectly delicious old, soft bones around - they don't even have pretty feathers." Well anyway you get the idea of his state of mind about the Illinois trip. Of course Willie had been firing him up since they first started communicating (e-mail and phones) about their swap-hunt plans - just as he has been firing Willie up about pigs. The "antsy" feeling got even more intense when Willie called him on the cell phone while he was driving there.

"You need to get here, buddy. They're chasing each other all over the place up here," urged Willie (on Donner, on Blitzen---).

Randy and Willie had already worked up a passing respect and liking for each other or they would have just let the hunt plans drift off into oblivion. From the first actual meeting Randy's respect continued to increase. Not only is Willie deadly with his traditional recurve (No wheels, bells, or whistles on my bow, thank you.) as evidenced at their practice sessions but he also has a lot of other involvements going for him. He is very active in a number of archery organizations as well as his hunting and profession and on top of all this he is a single father. He is raising a teenage son and doing a bang up job of it. Randy said, "He is a really great father and has a obvious special relationship with his son who is also his friend." Now this is chore enough for any single parent to do well but in addition his son happens to be wheelchair confined. Not my place to go into that and I only mention it to add that Randy says the boy has a great attitude and sense of humor - it has to come from somewhere doesn't it? I keep telling you; "Hunters are people too," and apparently Willie is a special one.

Randy reported that Willie's son made the droll comment one evening while his dad was arranging things for him before Randy and he (Willie) left to hunt, "OK, enough just messing around with the hunting (,Dad) - it's time we put a little groceries in the freezer."

Now that you have a little insight into Willie, Randy's Illinois hunting partner let's get on to what he put Randy in touch with out there. Randy says, "Man, I just got to put him onto at least one good pig when he comes down here." You got that right, buddy! Right from the start Randy was impressed with the contrast of beautiful rolling country, farmlands, hardwood ridges, and creeks. The beauty and visions of new and different hunting terrain were enough to make the trip worthwhile for him - he loves to look at a new spot. Most hunters do but he really does. To make it even better the land seemed to be dotted with decent sized, fat whitetails and many of them were sporting multi-branched antlers. In three hunts he had three bucks come out and go right up to his Pee Willie Wick with the Kabler Farms doe pee in it - bucks that would make us drool (and run into trees and do other stupid things) around here most of the time. Oh, there are bigger deer around here and people even get them once in awhile - just not us. Just before Randy left for Illinois a guy took a 194-lb. buck for a countywide contest and then later that day another hunter beat him out with a 210-pounder. Randy got to see them at the weigh-in but it "didn't happen on our watch" yet so you can see Randy was in hog heaven - well whitetail heaven actually - out there in Illinois.

"I'm gonna put you on the Creek Crossing," Willie stated. His friend and he had already told Randy about the area in question (and the deer they'd seen at and around it). It sounded like an ideal spot to someone like Randy who loves to hunt near water anyway, so his response was, "I'm there!" After Willie dropped him off and left for his chosen stand, Randy had to walk down across a sloping field to brush that bordered the creek. He followed that edge a ways before he came to the tree and stand Willie had directed him to. It overlooked the crossing as well as some other good terrain and merging trails. It appeared to be everything his host had touted it as. Randy settled in after placing his Pee Willie Wicks (he'd purchased a second after seeing how well they worked). It wasn't long before he'd seen a deer or two. As I recall a doe and then a cowhorn or forkhorn. He was in seventh heaven and decided to try a little calling. He'd been hearing some squirrels off and on but suddenly he realized the sound he was hearing was not a squirrel sound. It was too regular spaced and too heavy. He stood up and waited for the sound to materialize into what he hoped for. It did - did it ever! The biggest deer he had ever personally seen on a hunt was not only coming in but was running in. He was actually trotting down a slope towards Randy. The hunter was having trouble controlling his breathing when the big buck caught a whiff of the doe pee and slowed as he turned towards it. He stopped and stuck his nose right on the wick and began licking it. Randy said, "I took a page from Bernie's book and kept telling myself not to stare at the antlers but I had seen enough to know he was a real keeper."

The nervous hunter was doing a lot of talking to himself in fact. You know, do this, don't do that, remember this, don't forget that, etc., etc. while waiting for the huge buck to give him a broadside shot. He finally decided that was not going to happen but realizing the unusual breadth of the deer's chest he suddenly knew he could take him with a chest shot. He'd done it before on much smaller deer. The decision being made, calmness settled over him and he started talking himself through the actual shot sequence. He did it right too, and heard the resounding smack and saw the fletching protruding only a small amount from the buck's big chest, angled down into the chest cavity, just as he had aimed it.

"All hell busted loose then," Randy reported. "He jumped and kicked and started running towards bushes on a sloping bank. Just before he entered the bushes he started stumbling and plowing that big head of his into the dirt a couple times. I couldn't hardly believe it and I think it was about then that I finally started breathing again but I'm not sure." He continued, "After he entered the brush I slumped down into the seat and tried to control the shakes that had started. I didn't want to rush him any but I sure didn't want to loose him and I could hear a lot of loud crashing in the cover but couldn't see what was going on."

It dawned on Randy that since the bushy area the buck had entered was on a slope that he could see the other edges of it. So he contented himself with being able to see that his trophy was not leaving the bushes. After all the racket had stopped and the shakes had subsided, Randy could stand it no longer. Climbing down he then proceeded to the draw and bushes on the far slope where his deer had disappeared. Once he was inside the bush area and below the canopy it opened up some but he wasn't finding much of anything to encourage him. I imagine he was saying one of my prayers for help whether he realized it or not. He remembers saying; "I just can't loose him now!" More than one time probably, if the truth be known.

Just then Randy came to an old downed log and under it he spied a part of one large ear (been there, done that) and there was his well-earned trophy. Apparently the racket in the bushes that Randy had heard served to push the big fellow up and under that slanted log. Randy said that after, "thanking the man," all he could do was keep screaming, "Yeah!" and pumping his fist, over and over again. He said it was a miracle to him Willie or someone else didn't hear him. It took some real doing to drag the big buck out of there and then about 100 yards of the 400 yards to where Willie would pick him up. He admitted it had to be pure adrenaline that got him that far. The rest of it would be uphill. No way, Jose!

He got his gear together and went to the meeting place. He had time to relive the hunt a few times while waiting for Willie. It kept getting more exhilarating all the time. By the time Willie got there Randy had time to decide to take another page out of my book, so he told me. When Willie drove up Randy was dejectedly sitting on the ground (still resting too, I imagine). Willie inquired as to how he had done as he climbed out of his truck.

"I don't know about that stand you put me in, Willie," replied our boy, shaking his head. He learned well, and used to play those same kinds of games with his buddy in college besides.

Willie was obviously taken aback. No one likes their gear being questioned." Wha...well, I don't know, Randy ...it was all right when I sat in it a few days back. What was wrong with it?"

Randy, still looking down and wagging his head said, "Oh, I don't know, it shook and it squeaked and...I just don't know."

"Well....well.... but did you see anything from it? How did you like the area at least?" Trying to be the good host, Willie probably felt like kicking Randy's butt off the side of the hill about then.

"Oh yeah, I saw something all right,...... a big one," Randy was getting close to overspilling by then.

"Well how close was it? What was it?" Willie was feeling a little vindication now.

From then on out it pretty much all ran together for Randy, just as the two hunters ran together when Randy broke the actual news to his new friend. Randy said they screamed and high-fived, and danced around and pounded each other's backs as bad as we have on occasion

They went down in the truck to haul the 210-pound brute 9-pointer with the 19' spread out. People had trouble believing Randy had hauled him even the hundred yards he did. He assured them it was all adrenaline and that afterwards he couldn't have budged him if his life had depended on it. The local bow shop emptied out to eyeball the critter and the processor upon measuring the "horns" said it was the second biggest he'd seen from the area so far this year. Randy said one thing that really struck him was how friendly and receptive everyone was out there and how there didn't seem to be one hint of adverse feeling or envy over his harvesting the fine buck. They just all seemed genuinely tickled to death for him. What a great feeling to top off the hunt with. I know Randy has thanked you profusely, Willie but he sends his thanks anew and I send mine too. Just to be a part of the story in even this small way is a pure pleasure. Hope you like the write-up, guys. If you don't it's too late now.

Entry, November 10, 2001

Marine Corps Birthday "Buck"

Saturday was to be the Marine Corps 226th Birthday and I was going to try my darnedest to take another bow-harvest buck to celebrate it (I'm not much on the Marine Corps Birthday Ball anymore). However - the best laid plans of mice and men, etc., etc. Friday I pulled my right shoulder a little while wrestling with a 100-lb. bag of corn. The durned things just don't respond for me like they should. Once back when I was in my second or third year of bow shooting in Maine I did what they call "blow out" a shoulder (or elbow, or wrist). It's painful and I had to start from scratch and build up all over again. I didn't want to chance that happening again. Discretion being the better part of valor (even on the MC B'day) I opted to carry a gun rather than a bow. Friday night I took my Blackpowder (I saw nothing) but for Saturday I had planned to go to a spot I had picked out at Phillip's Long Branch Farm. I felt sure it was a great spot and I had got blown out of there by the wind on the previous Monday. I knew it was a spot where long shots were possible so I took my newly twice christened 270. It was a spot on a pocosin edge (and crossing) we had found while tracking Randy's doe the first time we hunted the farm. Again they were predicting pretty stiff winds for the PM but the morning wasn't slated to be too bad until it shifted. It turned off calmer than I had any right to even dream of. It would start off cold (it did - 37 degrees) but warm up quickly to mid-day low seventies (did that too) - the weatherman was even trying his best to cooperate. I was high up in a tree and in the site I had chosen on that previous windblown hunt, waiting for daybreak and the warming sun. What a beautiful sight and what a place to celebrate my "other birthday" in peace and quite - the way I like to do my celebrating these days (years). I wouldn't have my bow but other than that all I needed now was my buck. The wild turkeys were doing their fly-down bit and "talking" it up to greet the day (see ya in the springtime, guys).

I heard a sound at 7:15 behind me to the left and turned to see what would set the pace for the major part of the morning. I could only see patches (small ones) of a light tan deer ghosting through the thickest brush. I never even got a glimpse of the head but at least it was a good start and jump-started the old heart too. I enjoyed the sun warming both the landscape and me; watching fog and mist rise off the patches of watery swamp area around me. Soon the many songbirds and woodpeckers started plying their trade, keeping me amused and I must admit lulling me a little. About 8:30 I caught movement way out to my right front where a patch of marsh vegetation separated two waterways. A large deer appeared to be rising out of the further water onto the land patch - right where the sun was shinning from. By the time I could locate it in the glass the deer was not to be seen. I was about to give up when another movement a little to the right and closer to the ground attracted my attention. This time the head was well backlit and I could plainly see there were no antlers. For quite a while I watched it stretching its neck up from its apparent bed and scanning the area. Then I never saw either of them again though my eyes kept returning to the area. I was pretty sure that head wasn't big enough to have been the other one I saw. Probably a doe and yearling but it could have been a buck following a doe. Oh, well it would have been a long shot and into the sun at that - just as well, I kept telling myself.

It was an awesome day and I was fully enjoying it. I was letting the Lord know how much I appreciated the sights and sounds even though I had to admit the deer sightings had been of a marginal identification and shot opportunity type. Don't complain, Dunn at least you are seeing deer. A lone pileated woodpecker was zipping around trying to find just the right dead tree for his purposes. I sure see a bunch of them these days and they were near extinction at one time as I recall. They always fascinate me. Their colors are so vivid that they almost don't look real, if you know what I mean.

I had decided I would bail out at ten AM and go find a more sheltered spot before the wind got too pushy. Ten minutes before that time I swung my head to follow the sound and flight of the big woodpecker. The flight was his but the sound was two deer to my right, rear moving through bushes much as the first of the morning had done. These bushes were thinner and I could see more of the deer, which were darker in color. Again I never saw the head of the larger, lead one but could see the second was a yearling, so I assume the first was a large doe. Five deer had paraded (ghosted is still a better description) for me already and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet. What a day and the wind was just beginning to pick up. I decided to give it until 10:30 even though the wind increased quite a bit in the next five minutes. It kept increasing too and by half past ten it was well on it's way to being like my first day in that spot. I stood up and turned around in my climbing stand, which you have to do to climb down. I realized I still had my Savage 270 in my hand so I turned my torso to take care of that oversight (you lower it down on the rope, dummy). That was when I saw the nice sized (turned out to weigh 100-lbs. live weight) buck that was slipping in. I spotted the antlers and was pretty sure he only had spikes or cowhorns at best but he was large. He was sneaking in on the trail I had carefully walked to the side of when getting in there and was the first deer I'd had a clear view of all morning. I realized he was intent on the Kabler Farm doe urine scent from my Pee Willie Wick. He was following the stiff breeze that was carrying it to him like he was on a rope to it (as Randy says). He was paying no attention to me what so ever. I was sure watching him though and considering letting him walk. After all I do (did) have only two tags left and I do want another bow buck and a bigger rack. It seemed so strange to me though to have had no chance with any of the others that had approached me from all sides. Now just as I was about to leave, this one was being handed to me on a platter, like he came out of nowhere. (I guess the wind had blocked the sound of him on the dry leaves.) It crossed my mind all of the sudden that this was the Marine Corps Birthday Buck that I had asked for and the Lord had seen fit to offer me and that I shouldn't be questioning it in any way. I raised the 270 and took careful aim. The buck dropped in his tracks. Thank you, Lord, and I'm sorry I was being so picky about it. Now, I have no sure idea if that was just rationalization on my part or not but I do know and assure you I felt and thought all of those things in that short period of time. I also know that now he means just as much to me and I am just as thankful for him as any other deer I've ever harvested.

Oh, one final note: I swear that buck felt heavier than any one I've hauled out this year. I thought he had a bad case of leadbutt or something but perhaps it was I that had it, or maybe just some of the soft footing I had to navigate. I usually like to haul game pretty well out of the hunt area before field dressing them but I could only get him about a third of the way to the woods road before it had to be done. Even that didn't seem to help as much as I hoped it would. One good thing about the haul was at one point I heard and felt an audible pop from my shoulder and since then it has felt normal again. Maybe my "Marine Corps Birthday Buck" brought me an extra present. I sure hope it lasts, as with only one NC deer tag left now I really want to use my bow if at all possible.

Entry, November On, 2001

Into The Holidays

"Put your bows (& guns) down, boys! This is a reindeer, not a whitetail - and a very famous one that has important work to do in the forthcoming days."

Our first action for the holidays was that once my "Marine Corps Birthday Buck" was properly aged (just before Thanksgiving) Rose and I took it up to Hope Mission and donated the fine meat to their "soup kitchen". It never fails to move me how pleased the volunteers are to get the venison and how good it makes us feel to be able to contribute. Anyone who is able to should try it. If there is not a soup kitchen near you that can accept/use un-processed venison, look in the phone book yellow pages for Hunters For The Hungry (often preceded by your state or area designation). They will gladly take it, get it processed, and then deliver it where it's needed. It'll make you feel better all over more than anywhere else - guaranteed.

Being November all the local organizations (Charitable, Fraternal, and/or Volunteer) that normally hold "Turkey Shoots" to raise funds for their works have started doing just that. Again, these are called turkey shoots not because we shoot at live turkeys but because many times the prize for winning a relay is a (frozen) turkey. Other donated meats are used as prizes also. Shotguns are used and the shooter on a given relay that comes closest to an "x" or "+" in the middle of his or her target is declared the winner of that relay. I really enjoy the competition and the social interaction the shoots provide. It can get a "leettle" expensive at two dollars (and more, depending on prize) per relay so I can't shoot as often this year as I did the last two. Due to the traditional decline of fall/winter business in this area the owner of Ace Hardware had to take the unpleasant action (for both him and us) of laying-off both Carl and myself last month. The owner and one other salaried worker will have to stretch their hours to cover the schedule. This will hopefully allow some transfer of funds to improvements that may build up business. However it does make my spare pocket money a little on the scarce to non-existent side this year. Scott and I went to the first shoot two weeks ago but were late and the relays were pretty well filled up. We only got to shoot three relays but Scott won two of those and I won the third - a nice smoked, boneless ham came home with me. The next Friday evening we went out again (earlier) and were able to get on more relays. Poor Scott just kept getting beat out by a hair. I was lucky enough to take home four prizes of meat - bacon, sausage, pork chops, and another ham. Nope, no turkey - good thing Rose bought one for Thanksgiving. Yes, that means I was one of the shooters beating Scott out. It's the nature of the game - but it was a good thing I was the one driving. Just kidding - Scott is not at all that way. He is a good-natured cuss and is always glad to see me win. It does make for good friendly chiding though.

Our daughter, Lois, her guy, and her oldest daughter, Onesty (Haylei was at her other Grandmother's) joined us for Thanksgiving dinner and we all made pure-T Pigs out of ourselves. We do have so very much to be thankful for - not the least of which is that we were able to be together this year (and that none of us burst wide open from our excesses). Last year they had to come to the hospital to even see me on Thanksgiving Day.

On the following Friday evening Jabo wanted to go to a turkey shoot (he hadn't been to one in years now) and since I had received an insurance policy dividend check that day I agreed to go. I was fortunate enough to win two relays (prizes) that time. Jabo just couldn't seem to click. He had two guns with him, neither of which seemed to respond very well to his corrective holds on subsequent shots. Finally he borrowed Scott's gun for two or three relays but didn't do much better. I told him he could borrow my Mossberg to try but he knows I normally do not loan it, as I don't like to shoot against my own gun. That is really just a quirk on my part as no two people are apt to shoot the same way even with a given gun. Also even when you do your level best each shot to hold 'em and squeeze 'em, a lot of it in Turkey Shoot(ing) is still based on luck. In the end he took me up on my offer and borrowed my gun for our (his and mine) last relay. It was for a half-hog and he bought an extra target on it. For the first time all evening his two (as well as my one) were set aside as being "in the running" - until the final winner's target was thrown down and put all three of ours out. We might have wound up having a shoot off between us two if the winner hadn't been in it. Even after having said what I did above about my "quirk", that is still one good reason not to shoot against your own gun. We wouldn't have cared though, as he would have cooked the pig and I would have helped eat it (and the fixin's) no matter which of us won it.

As we prepared to go to the truck Jabo commented, "Well, that's the end of my turkey shooting. Too much money for nothing coming back." He quickly added that it was, "for a good cause though." I agree with that wholeheartedly. I took that opportunity to tell him again (I've been telling him for two years now) that he needs to get glasses. His patterns were good enough all evening but the lack of consistency from shot to shot by a former "dead-eye Dick" like him tells me he can't see the target clearly. Even of the two shots he made with my gun (his best of the night) on the same relay, one was to the left while the other was to the right. It was with no conscious correction on his part either, as he had no way to see the targets to know he needed a correction until the relay was over. He did agree with me and I truly hope he will take steps to have his eyes checked - soon. I've really noted the deterioration of his eyesight in just the five years or so I've known him, especially over the last two and a half. Your eyesight is surly nothing to mess around with. I sure use my glasses (two years now) for both shooting and hunting and there is a difference. Of course I've needed them when reading for more years than I care to recall now so I have bifocals. They take a little getting used to but it's do-able and the alternative sucks.

December Now (As I mentioned in the E-News at bowhunting.net, this topic, Into The Holidays will be an open ended one with additions as they happen, so keep coming back to check it out.)

November ended with nothing of import to report in these pages. Randy did visit one of our old haunts in The Savannah River area - saw deer but no buck and no luck - not really because just seeing them is luck. We did make a couple more visits (separately) to "Phillip's LBF" and Randy was treated to watching a bear surveying the swamp out in front of him as well as spotting some doe here and there. We had seen bear tracks on the edge of a field and I heard a bear's lonely call the first night we hunted there. They start out with the same first two notes as a owl's hoot so a lot of people dismiss their call as an owl - I was taught better in Maine and was pretty sure about what I had heard. The tracks fortified it and then Randy's sighting clinched it. The bear season in that county doesn't open until a little later this month though. I was favored by the chance to watch a set of triplet, late-spring (by their size) fawn pass/browse through my stand area not 15 yards from my tree. I watched them for a good five to ten minutes and they were very healthy, good-looking examples of the farm's deer. It pleased me both to watch them and to see their condition. Good news for next season's herd.

The first week's end of December we put in the better part of four days at the LBF hunting. We mostly only saw turkeys (due to full moon period) but it sure was a sight for us both to see seven flying across the narrow river one or two at a time. Again later I saw a parade of turkey heads and necks the other side of a log from where I was putting my stand on a tree. I had to freeze until they had passed to keep from spooking them and then in turn any deer that might have been in the area. We also spent some time scouting new sites/areas and on Sunday helping Phillip (nicknamed "Sparky") put up new "posted" signs along the river. That was good for us as well as him and is only fair when a landowner lets a hunter use his property - help out where you can. Sparky had found a group of what can only be classified as "slob hunters" camped (four tents and tarps) on his property by the river (and right near one of the old, still legible signs at that) during the last week of November. He let them off with a warning and a stiff admonition not to return. Prior to that they had tried to con him with the old, lame wife's tale that it was legal for them to camp there as long as they were within 35 feet of the river and that they didn't have to leave. He set them straight and sent them on their way but decided his old signs needed replacing and beefing up. I just don't understand guys like them - the gall! Worse yet, when Randy and I started reading the sign around their campsite, the picture of my previous classification of them really began to take shape. It was obvious they had shown no respect for others property or the wildlife and it probably was not their first time in the area. They had cut down at least three trees (one with a good 8" radius) to burn (with all kinds of slash wood around they could have used) and there were only about three or four fire size pieces left. That indicated they were there a good while and/or more than once. We found a 7mm brass casing by the campfire dredges, a dead (gun shot) beaver carcass left on the bank, and a fatally wounded small deer. (Perhaps one of the trio I'd seen that week???) The little deer obviously had not been a clean kill nor was it recovered. As is common with those type people, they left enough trash to fill a large trash bag. They just leave it behind to clutter the woods and rivers. Then some people can't understand why so many landowners don't allow general access to their property. This also points up the value to a landowner of allowing some ethical hunters (a limited number) to hunt their property. Because we hunt/scout we frequent areas not normally visited by the owner, see more of the less noticeable things, and in general are an additional patrolling element to help discourage scoundrels of that sort from using and miss-using the property and wildlife. Think about it!

Had Sparky been aware of all that the "slob hunters" had done when he let them leave he probably would have called the law instead. He did call the law afterwards, just to touch base and give them a heads-up about the group, along with their boat number.

(Somewhere on the river voices drift through the fog,

"Hell's fire, Bubba, Ah wonner why you reckon hit seems thu law keeps checkin' us out ever whar we go enymore?"

"Damn'fi know, Billy Bob, jes damn'fi know!")

Well, on to more pleasant things. Randy and I got there early Sunday and took care of some more scouting, stand selection, cleaned that "camp site", and checked the river frontage in Randy's boat. During the course of that we saw three nice deer. Actually we only saw their posterior extremities as they bounded off ahead of us but we could tell at least one was a large one. When we met Sparky after lunch we switched to his boat and set about posting the property along the river. His boat came replete with his first mate, Shelby. Shelby is a beautiful personality bundle of mixed Sheltie and Shih Tzu who looks mostly like a sheltie only smaller. She is a cutter and loves company and being with her "daddy" for any adventure that comes along. She oversaw the whole afternoon of work and was a fun addition to the crew. Sparky piloted the boat while Randy and I posted signs on trees and cleared vines for visibility. Shelby checked to make sure the immediate shoreline was safe for us at most every chosen site, jumping off the boat and returning when we were ready to pull away. She is a busy, busy little girl but always willing to hesitate for a head pet or a hug. Sparky is an openly "patriotic American" who was that way even before September 11, 2001. He took the time to thank me sincerely for doing my time in the Marine Corps, serving "the greatest country God ever put on this earth." Makes a guy feel pretty darned good to hear that once in a while, I'll tell you.

You stare at the singing holiday candle, then you think of your favorite Christmas carol and really concentrate- - - - - - - - - um - that's it, guys. That's the whole McGilla.

OK, OK now, if you can't remember all the words to your favorite Christmas carol the plan is gonna have holes in it. I'm sorry! Oh well, if this doesn't work for you then please go to Gallery, Pg5, Row One and view my serious Christmas card to all of you. I value you, even if you can't concentrate so very good.

Now it is getting very close (21st) to the holidays as well as the season(s) end. While I've hunted a number of times lately and Randy and I even got out together the other day for a half-day I still am looking to fill my one remaining tag (whitetail). I'd like very much to be able to do it as it would be another first for me - to fill all my tags in a state where one has multiple tags, that is. I have seen six deer during the last few hunts but only had one real opportunity to take one and I let her walk, as I wasn't sure at the time that I could take another antlerless deer. It turned out I could have and should have known it (a temporary brain lapse) so I may have blown my last opportunity. I still hope to try a few more times but it has turned cold and that makes it harder to pull the bow, my preferred method for taking this last one. I've been carrying both my bow and either my black powder rifle or my pistol in order to have more options (in case one I couldn't resist appeared outside of bow range) and yet still be using one of the more challenging "tools of the trade". I also hope to continue that, with the exception of if/when we get to do our annual Mosquito Ditch Hunt which calls for a shotgun.

Jabo did take a nice big, old doe just a couple days back, which I helped him clean on a cold (Brrrrr) morning. It was a strange incident (his hunt, not the cleaning) that points up something we all tend to forget or just let pass and should not. He was hunting the little local farm that he and I and once in a great while Randy hunt. I've only been there once or twice this year due to being blessed with more places available to me than in the past. Anyway Jabo's doe came out with a couple large yearlings (near sunset) while he was on a ground stand in the corner of a field. One of the smaller deer was closer to the large one than the other was but it didn't seem to present a problem. Since Jabo's year has been a tad on the skinny side for him he opted to take the doe, leveled his shotgun, and made his shot when the opportunity was right. Surprisingly the doe jumped and turned up high enough to show the hunter all white. She bolted across the field and into the bushes/woods now surrounding an old, long-since deserted farmhouse. Jabo could not believe he had missed her but as I said his year had not been such as to give him a lot of confidence at this point. Even so the bigger shock was that at the same time the smaller (still a keeper) deer toppled over in his tracks. He walked towards the downed deer, saw it was a button buck that was obviously down for the count, and turned his attention to the big doe's tracks. The second smaller one had immediately fled back into the bushes they had been emerging from before the shotgun roared. Jabo found very little blood in the trail of the doe at the far edge of the field, "must have just nicked her," he thought disappointedly. Still he followed the trail through the old homestead, out the other side and across the next field to the dense woods edge there. At that edge he found another not very encouraging sign of blood. However it was enough to tell him to back off and come back in the morning before going to work in order to give it time and/or to make double-damned sure. Being closer to where he'd left his truck at the entrance to the farm, he angled across the field to it and drove back to the edge of the first field. Walking across that field to where he'd made his shot he was shaking his head at the strange turn of events and feeling lucky he had at least taken the smaller one, the way things had been going for him. Suddenly he realized he was past the place the button buck had fallen and was close to the edge of the field where he had been hunkered down when they appeared. Turning back he became painfully aware there was no deer lying in that field, nor any sign of blood where he had been knocked off his feet. He did find his tracks and they led to the far opposite corner of the field from where the doe had gone. Not a single drop of blood anywhere along the trail and it was now dark. Jabo realized his morning task was going to be doubled now, and in two different directions at that. The upshot of the whole deal (Jabo is a more than average reader of tracks and sign - highly competent would not be overstating it) was, apparently the young buck had only been knocked out but with no penetration. I would guess just by one pellet of buckshot that is usually called a "flyer" and does not generally follow the direction or rules of the rest of the load. Pretty obvious the deer had come to and got his butt to hell out of dodge while the getting was good. On the other hand, once Jabo had ciphered that about the buck he was doubly surprised to walk right to his doe, not fifty yards from the edge of the field where he had stopped tracking her the night before. The sign there where she had fallen and the evidence we found during the cleaning showed she had died quickly and cleanly after her mad dash. It also indicated that she never should have made it anywhere near that far. You just never know with deer, even fatally wounded ones. The thing I mentioned at the beginning that we tend to forget? "They" always say that when you get a deer down you should cautiously touch their open eye with your weapon or a long stick before approaching any closer or assuming that they are down for good. Something most all of us get careless about as we see more downed animals and get over-confident in our ability to tell at a glance when one is out of the picture. Would that deer have responded to the eye touch in this case, if he were actually knocked out? Who knows but it does point up the fact that it is the safer and more prudent thing to do in any case. I gotta start remembering that (again), how about you? I bet Jabo will - for awhile at least.

Oh - also during this period of time I had the distinct pleasure of attending and taping another of granddaughter Onesty's school music programs. This one of course was one of the always beautiful Christmas presentations. I just love those kind of joint family outings. We also always see old friends at these programs. Some are attending grandparents (like us) who used to work for me and some worked for me but are younger and attended school with Lois. Now they also have children in the programs just as Lois does. It is heartwarming and gratifying that they always seem genuinely glad to see us - even if it does hammer home the passage of time. Yikes!

(Message received 12/22/2001, regarding a hunt of Dec. the 21st in SC - from Randy)

Another first! Allen and I went into the swamp to some new spot he found. We took our
bows and shot guns but since the water was so low we had to go the "long" way which took
2 hours to idle in. By the time we got in, the sky was cracking day so we decided to leave
the stands in the boat along with the bows and just go sit some of the creek crossings. We
walked in about 100 yards and were talking about where we should go first when some hogs
started fighting and squealing about 200 yards further. It answered our question for us...the
stalk was on. We snuck to where we could just hear them inside some really tall grass. I
started grunting and squealing and shuffling leaves. As we stood side by side and waited, we
could see the grass parting. They were on their way! I stepped off about 20 feet to Allen's
right just as the first one came out in front of Allen and moved in my direction. They were
only about 25 yards away. We had our guns up and Allen said "shoot when you have a shot."
The first was as big as the two he arrowed the evening the 3 of (us) hunted together last spring.
I decided to let him go since I could hear more coming out. Allen started grunting at the next
one to get him to stop. He was hoping I would shoot the first and he would take the second.
Instead the second walked too swift past him and stopped in front of me so I put the new
fiber optic sites on his vitals and touched off the shot. Lady Remington got her first hog! It
hit perfect! He left an awesome blood trail right back in the tall grass. As we trailed him in the
grass we could hear more shuffling coming within so we hurried back out. I grunted and more
came out. The first was a 100 lb so we let him go back in. The next one was bigger so Allen
shot...but missed. We took up the trail again and found my hog about 20 yards in the grass.
He was pushing 300 lbs!!!!! We were about 400+ yards from the boat, which could just as
well been a mile! We began draggin and about 2 hours later we got him to the boat. That
was by far the hardest dragging I have ever experienced. We weighed him at Allen's house
and it field dressed 225 lbs.!! Whatta a boar. His tusks were just like the ones on my
mounted hog! But this one had real ones!!! Wait till you see the pics. I already have them
developed. He was approaching 6 feet in length. He would have made a great mount but
since I already have one, I'll wait until I get a bigger one! They're in there. The tall grass had
beddings all over inside there. We found the mother lode!

I just got out of the shower after cleaning him at Allen's house. We didn't get out of the
swamp until 2pm and we shot him at 8:30am!!!!! That was way too much like work. But we
may go out and do it again Monday morning...Glutton's for punishment! I love it!

Did you go to the farm today? I hope you got out and saw some action. Let me
know....Later bud!

(My answer of 22 Dec., including tale of Jabo's buck)

That is just great, buddy and it is going into the journal just as it is.
Hot off the press (or the hunt) as they say. I just knew when you
installed those Tru-glo fiber optic sights they would make a believer
out of you. I love those things on my Mossberg, as you well know. I'm
just so proud of your shot gun - and you! It will always be a valued firearm to you
now. Sorry Allen missed his hog but perhaps it's a good thing - your
little red wagons would have really been draggin' if you had two to drag
out. Wait a minute - Allen is forever telling us he ain't as dumb as he
looks/acts, you know? You didn't by chance notice if his gun barrel
pulled off target just as he fired did you? Method to his madness perhaps. Wish
I'd been there with you guys. Can't wait to see and post the photo.
No, I haven't gotten out yet. When it turns this cold (very low 20's the
last three mornings) with no gradual build-up (or down) this old, low-carbohydrate
regimented body just can't handle it (lo-carbs = no body heat).
Especially when left to my own choices - ha ha! I do hope to get up to
the farm tomorrow AM for a half-day though. I just hope it is a few
degrees warmer. That's if it doesn't rain and freeze. Jabo did get out
yesterday and get him another one. This one was a small basket six-pointer. He'd lost a brow tine to the bugs while in velvet like my "funky six-pointer" did. The buck was previously
wounded in the ham a week or so ago by a hunter who was in a place he
wasn't supposed to be (near Pokey's house). The buck has been dragging
his leg around on Pokey/Billy's farm since then. Jabo has been seeing his tracks
and even spotted him, fleetingly once or twice . Jabo was determined he
was going to walk him up yesterday and darned if he didn't do just that
- down behind the old cemetery, near the swamp's edge. Jabo had to run
(across the corner of the swamp, no less) to catch a chance to shoot at
him but took him with one clean shot. It was a good harvest that needed
to be made.
Congrats to you and Allen ("he halpped" and besides he found the place)
and keep me posted. Jabo and I may hit the mosquito ditches Wed. (day
after Christmas) with the canoe. He seemed to be up for it when I
brought it up last night. Later - B

(See pics on Gallery, Pg5)

Between Christmas and New Year's Day:

I am happy to report Christmas was great for our family - with friends and family at Jabo and Kat's Christmas Eve where Lois and her family joined us for supper and "tree". Then continuing on Christmas Day when Lois & family returned for our "tree" and Rose's delicious Christmas dinner of duck and ham with all the fixin's. Among other things we presented Lois with a paper grocery bag full of 2-lb. packages of frozen venison burger meat. She loves it and puts it to good use just as we do. Thank you, Lord for the family Christmas and the venison. One quick thing that means a heap to me. Rose gave me a Muzzy Zero Effect Rest for my bow (Randy also had one installed on his Mathews), which I have really been wanting badly. The name says it all and the device is an amazing advance in simple engineering and bow technology. It was designed by an engineer (space technology) who didn't shoot bows but was made aware of all the inherent problems with rests by a bow toting friend. You'll be hearing a lot more about them and other fall-away type rests if you are interested in bows at all. If you aren't, you'll probably be hearing more from me than you want to. They are just unreal.

I am not so happy to report that it looks like our Fourth Annual Mosquito Ditch Hunt at this point looks like a bust. Jabo and I did take the canoe (oh, my aching arms, etc.) and gave it a bloody go Wed. but saw no deer. In fact we didn't even see much promising sign that would encourage us to go back on the last day of the season. We were disappointed and Randy was too when he got the word later. We did see the biggest Otter (that wasn't a saltwater otter) I've ever seen. He had us thinking he was a deer, jumping out of and into the water until I finally got to eyeball him. He used up about a half-hour of our time but it was interesting and funny. We also heard the sound effects of the dog-hunters back behind the marshes apparently taking a deer that their dogs had started up and ran towards them, or someone else. It didn't improve our situation or lessen our hard work any though. We didn't even see any ducks up in there and usually we do. Jabo guessed conditions just haven't been right this year for the deer to use the marsh as much. He may be right but I (and he) know that they have "dogged" the hell out of the forest behind the marshes for the last two or three years. I don't know if I (or we) will try it again the last day or not - it is supposed to be colder and that could help. We'll see.

In The Short Rows:

With only three shopping - er - hunting days (Sat., Mon., & Tues.) left 'til season end I find myself torn between wanting to take full advantage of them and not being able to get my "get up and go", up and going. Now, it is no secret that "doggin'" is not my favorite way of hunting whitetail deer but once in a great while I'll give it a go if the dogs, area, and hunters are limited to a minimum. I do love to hear the dogs work and even more so if I know them. So, Saturday I joined Jabo, his brother (Duck) and nephew (Jeremy) at the little farm to try out his two new pups for only their second run. Let me say right at the outset that the dogs did great but the hunters didn't do worth a hoot. We were all really impressed with the pups' overall performance with the one exception that they don't sound off enough - very unusual for Beagles. They have the voices right enough, as they use them when running rabbits with my Sloopy around home here. Anyhow, they jumped deer twice that we know of for sure and ran three all the way through the property to the river and ran another (later) off the side of the farm. Jabo saw the flagging tail of the second one but all we saw was the tracks of the other three, with the pups' tracks right in after them all the way. Even though the pups weren't sounding we might have still got a chance at those three if Jabo had put us on the stands he normally does but he changed his plan at the last minute. Even at that, one of us might still have got a chance if I - er - I mean "he" hadn't forgotten to turn "his" radio on. That way Jabo could have reached "him" with the message to shift position when it became apparent the deer and dogs were going to pass the other place, where I er - "he" wasn't waiting. Well - I can't help it if I'm used to Randy and I conserving batteries by only turning the radios on at preset contact times. After all, Jabo was the "Huntmaster" so he should have reminded me to turn my radio on - never mind that he almost never carries one - so there. Dog gone it! Too bad though, the pups really worked and did their share more than right. Then the hunters let them down so they didn't really get to see the whole game. Jabo has to work Mon. but the pups did so well he plans to try them again Tues., the final day. We talked about maybe if Sloopy had been along she would've helped them with the sound effects. We also then talked about taking her Tues. but I don't know - she hates loud noises (gunshots) so bad. We'll think on it - she does love to have the pups run with her. Of course she may take them off on a rabbit in a heartbeat - but they had so much fun on deer the other day they might help keep ol' Sloopy straight about that matter. Hmmm! Naw, I guess I better not. Sloopy is too much of a pet and it's a little late to start her on deer now - especially on the last day of the season.

Note for pet lovers:

During the last part of the holiday period I had occasion to be looking around at some specialty sites on the internet in order to attempt to do a favor for friend Connie's mother. She was looking for a Chihuahua or two of a certain type to enhance her line and not having a computer she asked for my help. Now, loving Chihuahuas, pets in general, and messing with the computer it was no real imposition on this old hoss, as you can well imagine. It happens that I came across a very special site, both in design and content. If you like any of those things I mentioned (and perhaps even if not) it would be worth your time to make a visit there also. You'll find some very cute pictures and heartwarming/thought provoking poems about dogs/pets, among other things. You will find a link to the Candyland Chihuahua website in the Hot List, Table of Links on my Life and Times Page or just click the name here. As always, please Bookmark that site for future reference and come back here (often). Those kennels are located here in NC also but up in the mountains, inland. Try it, you'll love it.

New Year's Eve, 2001
 
 

I pray for all of us that the good Lord will bring us all health and well being and at least a few good times as well. May he also bring the world towards and into a peace that is free of the fear of terrorism and other prejudices that plague mankind.

Tuesday, January One, Two thousand and Two

Oowwooo, oowwooo, oowwooo, boom, boom, boom - and so it went on the last hunt of the season , the first day of the New Year. Yes, that means I gave into the invitation to go with Jabo, Duck, Jeremy and a friend named Geunnar (Spelling?) for one final try at Pokey/Billy's farm with the young pups. It was without a doubt the best dog hunt I've ever been a party too and that fact was due solely to those fantastic-beyond-their-years (and any reasonable expectations) pups. It was a true pleasure to watch that hardworking, full of heart pair at work. From just after dawn until dusk they gave their all and did it well, with only two short rests. They intelligently gave those over to immediate sleep, curled up together like one. The young brothers rule! This being said, dog hunting is still far from my favorite way to hunt whitetails but it was a banner day. They started the day off by jumping what had to be either a dog-wise buck or a very smart old nanny (doe). That deer led those pups in circles and they never missed a beat of switchbacks, switchups, switchdowns, switch-your-tail-bones or your lady friend until we were all worn out just from listening and shifting positions. Finally the deer came to the realization he was not going to shake those tenacious pups and it was almost a relief when he chose to go overboard by swimming the creek. He really hadn't wanted to leave the farm and tried every trick in the book first. I was totally glad that someone was able to down deer for the pups full education and indoctrination even though it was not to be me. Jabo got one and Duck got one. This time the pups were plenty vocal and radios were kept on (even mine- "Shut Up!") so it was more interesting. To top it off the dogs ran a deer towards my position two different times, for the first time ever. However I still wound up the season with one unfilled tag. There were no shots within the range of my trusty Mossberg so it was not to be. I'm sorry, pups (Kelly, Jr. and Li'l Boy) but thanks for the thrills. Duck also got another chance but didn't score on that one. I must admit that on my first opportunity had I not chosen that precise moment to answer the call of nature, the deer might have come close enough for a shot before he detoured around me. For some unknown and equally unbelievable reason I even chose to answer that call by facing away from where I knew the action would be coming from to boot. Another brain lapse! I blame it on my never really having had a lot of faith in a deer coming by me during a dog hunt. The second one I saw running parallel to the power line I was on but too far into the woods for a shot. I ran like a madman along the fire break to cut her off when she crossed the opening. Know what? I can't catch a deer. Hell, I can't even close the gap enough to get in range. I sure can breath hard after a gallant attempt though. In all the two young dogs jumped and ran six deer, all on different trails, all doe except that first one of the morning perhaps. You should know Jabo runs pretty much right with his dogs also. Another reason that I have to give dog hunting with him more credit than most. He was heard to comment over the radio this time, "I can't keep up with these fools - I'm getting to old for this." Of course I was very sympathetic with my return transmission, "Well after all you are over the hump, you did turn 50 this past year you know." Someone said they heard a nasty little laugh thrown in there too but I wouldn't think so, would you?

Entry, January 06, 2002

More Scoutin' Than Huntin'

This entry marks the return to our normal (and I use that term with some trepidation) format regarding entries, now that the holidays have passed. Meaning (more or less) one entry, one topic, one date. I'm going to start off with another message I got today from Randy. He went back to SC this weekend. As you know we try to hunt pigs as often as we can during the off-season, preferably with bows for practice but often carrying pistols as well. However we also do scouting for deer during that period and quite often the two coincide - happily. I feel this message/report points that up quite effectively and just happens to be durned interesting as well. It also touches on the problems most of the southeastern states are having from lack of water this past year. The message is pretty self-explanatory except for the mention of a new baiting method for feral pigs using a post hole digger. It was explained to Randy by the president of a hog hunting club whom he met. Instead of scattering or piling corn, one digs a number of deep holes with a post hole digger in the prospective area and refills it with alternating layers of corn and dirt. This way you conserve corn while catering to the pigs' love of rooting and fantastic sense of smell for things underground. Evidence the Europeans use of pigs (on a leash) to locate the very desirable and valuable underground-growing truffles. If you hunt pigs, give it a go and I bet you'll be impressed. It also makes your chosen site a little less noticeable to other hunters - at least until after the pigs have visited a time or two and perhaps even then too.

Randy's Message:

Billy, Allen and I went to the swamp today but almost didn't get in. The water was too
low to put in where we normally do and we had to go another 25 miles and put in elsewhere.
Then we decided to hunt somewhere else since the water was so low we figured we
would not be able to get through the 2 or 3 shallow spots from before (much less with even
less water!). Anyway we walked about a mile and realized we were almost up to where
we hunt normally so we decided to walk on to it. We got to the cabin and walked right
up to it (that's how low the water is) and then pressed on up the creek. Just before we
got to the bait I heard something running in the crusty snow and told the guys to get
ready (since they didn't hear it coming as early as I did) since it sounded like it was
coming to us. Would you believe we saw the biggest-horned deer in the wild I have ever
seen!!!? It looked like a main frame 8 or 10-pt. but had tines going everywhere
(nontypical) which probably made it a 12-pointer or better. Many of the tines were better
than 12 inches long. It looked like he had a third main beam coming backwards behind his
ears and man was it large!! If you're wondering how I saw so much of the deer's rack it
was because he was only 15 yards away!!! He came right to us. Billy and Allen drew on it
with their guns but were only tempted to shoot. Good for them! It will only be bigger
next year, huh?

The post hole idea was a tremendous success! They (the pigs - ed.) had each hole dug out to 3-4 foot
diameters. They had been there the night before and had we enough time to hunt the
evening (and we weren't 2 miles walking distance from the boat) we felt we would've had
an excellent chance to see pigs. But we'll bait them next week. I gave Allen 300 lbs of
corn in case I can't make it next week. The nice thing about it is that it lasted the whole
week. They were definitely there last night. Plus we bumped a deer or two off one of
the holes! You know how they love fresh dirt!

We concluded that we could bait an area using this method and hunt it within a day or
two. It doesn't require you baiting for a long period just to "keep them in the area". We
won't spend a lot of energy trying to keep the bait fresh until the weekend before. Then
we'll hit it hard. Hope you liked the update.

I'll catch up with you later.

(Randy)
 
 

This is a logo Allen found somewhere and sent to me. (Thanks to Allen and also to whoever did the clever artwork.) It kind of fits in here - between seasons and in anticipation of more hog hunts. Whether I get to partake or only report the action it still beefs up (or is that porks up) the off-season.

Entry, Jan. 15, 2002

Quick Note

A slug of new stuff and changes on the ol' website (so you should take a look-see around again). Some are Minor and some are Mijor (that's between minor and major). There are some new e-mail animation thingies here and there on pages near the bottom, a half dozen or so new awards, and a new guestbook more in step with the rest of the pages (color and number of entries it will hold before automatically deleting the earliest one). I hated loosing "your" old tracks but I like this book a lot better. If you think you already signed it - tain't thar numore - so please visit it again. Honest, contrary to some schools of thought, guestbooks do not snap your picture and "steal your soul", they just display your gems of wisdom for a while. Trust me on this! The new awards caused me to have to make a More Awards page and it is linked to the bottom of the Awards page (they are real nice to see and read about). I also had to make a new page to accommodate the growing number of Links in my Hot List Table. You can reach that to check it out from a couple of links on the Life & Times page (where it used to reside) and also from my Home page (click on "Links"). I'm trying to (and it seems to be working some) generate more traffic - the "name of the game". My transits to the various pages, from the Home Page were beginning to look a little scragley as they grew in numbers. So I also fixed that by containing them in a nice little corral there. Hope it looks neater and easier to use to folks. I guess that's about it but you never know what this old fool is up to so you should poke around every now and then. Heck, I might forget some changes I make. P.S. A little later I corralled the transits at the bottom of all the other pages as well.

P.P.S. It is pretty well cut and dried that I am not going to be able to make "Willie's Pig Hunt" but watch for the report here in mid-February. Sorry I won't get to meet Willie this time around but the winds of fortune are not blowing favorably for that right now.

Entry, Jan. 26, 2002

Buck By Default

David Camp had hunted that beautiful buck for about three years. He'd see him every now and then but was never presented an ethical shot opportunity. This season (2001) had been no different and on top of that the bow hunting saints had seemingly deserted him altogether. He only had one shot and somehow that one didn't work out the way it should've. Especially for the Bow Pro/Owner of Camp's Archery Outlet at the Flatwoods Outfitter's complex in Hubert, NC - damned depressing if you thought much about it. David isn't one to dwell on things like that though, as he knows it can happen to the best of us and generally does sooner or later. He also knows it can change for the better (or worse) in a heartbeat. So he's pretty "steady- going" as we used to say about a good horse and he tries to convey that in his dealings with his customers, friends, and students. After all, he hadn't got very many chances to be out there after deer this year; it's his busiest time at the shop. "His" buck had been there though and now he had the proof of it in pictures taken by his CamTrakker (or is it TrailTimer Camera) - on two days in a row no less, and once before dark even. Well, that was heartening at least, since it was already into the gun season.

As I often (probably too often) say, "The best laid plans of mice and men, etc., etc." but that was the status quo one evening at David's home. He had got away early enough for a very welcome sit-down meal with his wife but not early enough to go out to his hunting stand. He knew what the sound of screeching tires and the heavy thud meant as soon as he heard it. He jumped up and ran from the house towards the road that passed it. Knowing as he moved it was a collision between vehicle and large animal, probably deer. He even remembers thinking, "I hope it's not my big guy," for he had seen him crossing the road near his house on occasion at night. We won't go into details but it turned out a woman could not avoid the big buck when he bounded in front of her car. She was most distraught, as anyone would be (even most hunters). Nobody wants to get a deer with a car. To top it off, it was David's big guy and the old warrior was not completely out of it. David did the only thing he could, for the deer and the woman. After making a quick run back to the house he dispatched the dying buck with his 270 rifle. Not pleasant perhaps but a needed action for sure. The woman wanted no part of the deer so at least David got the antlers and meat of his old adversary - by default. "Sh---tuff happens!" David prizes the antlers of the buck, as well he should and he shares the story and pictures with us. (See those on Gallery, Pg5.)

David had his first deer of the season, finally but not in a way he really wanted to count. Fortunately though it seemed to be a turning point for him. It wasn't too many days later that a young buck he had also been seeing in the area came out to him. He had never seen him in bow range this season though. Not in bow range until that night, that is. You guessed it; he (of course) had his 270 with him and not his bow. He had this one on camera also and kind of wanted to let him stay on after he got the big guy but things were just not working out. He decided he'd better not play loose with his chances, as scarce as they had been. The shot was almost straight down from his tree stand - where was his bow? It wasn't how he had envisioned this season but what the hey. (See this one on Gallery, Pg5 also.)

The very next afternoon he got an unexpected chance to return to his stand. He would damned well take his bow, even though he didn't really expect to see anything so soon again. To his shock the bow hunting saints returned to his stand also and a big old nanny was offered to him. Suffice it to say it was a decent range shot and executed in the proper fashion to put himself back in his own good graces. Hey, this season wasn't turning out so bad after all. David got two more deer before the season ended. One was from his original home state of Illinois.

By the way, David is currently working on plans to get a website up for his archery shop for mail order. He already gets some business that way from Flatwoods Outfitters' site that he shares. I've always found his prices and treatment to be fairer than fair in all of our dealings. As soon as he gets the website going I will put a link to it on my Hot List, Table of Links so you can check it out. Wouldn't we all love to have one of those timer type cameras for instance? Those automatic pics are great scouting aids. I used to use the basic little one-shot deal TrailTimer trip-clock type device for monitoring bowhunting, bear sites in Maine and still have one. They've come a long way, baby. David's particular camera turned out to be a Moultri brand but they all will do the trick, I'm sure.

Note: Please take a quick look at the bottom of Bernie's Dreams Page for a sneak-peek at my new, proposed, self-designed logo for this website and the promotion of it's stated premise. It is the first unveiling of it and I still want to do a little more work on it (as you will read there) if I can figure out how. See what you think of it anyway. Thanks.
 
 

Entry, Jan. 29, 2002

Special Notice

On this date I have added a new and rather special section to this website and a request for help regarding it. It is a bit of a departure but then it is also a thing of interest and beauty to many people. It consists of a kind of index page that serves as a title and dedication page and from there you pass on to gallery pages on the main subject. The index page is entered only from the main Home Page of this site by clicking on the transit titled "Covered Bridges." That is the subject matter of the new section and you will see and read about a number of the old time structures of Americana. At this time I am not linking it to the other pages in this site but only back and forth to the home page. Later, depending on how it grows (or doesn't) I may do that, or I may even make a separate website for it and just link to it from this one. In keeping with that, You will find the pages and text are of a different color scheme, lending itself more to the wood against sky subject matter (I think). I hope folks take some pleasure in it. Writing will be pretty much limited to explanations of the images. Enjoy it (them) if you will, help me with it if you can. Thank you.

Entry, Feb. 20, 2002

Willie's Pig Hunt

The time is here for the Willie/Randy reciprocal hunt, the other half of Randy's trip/hunt to Illinois. Of course other people are involved also but it is primarily Willie's pig hunt and Randy's chance to repay him for the great hunt that was set up for him last fall. For quite some time now Allen has been helping Randy feverishly prepare for Willie's Pig hunt. Though they did a little hunting while they were at it, mostly they just worked to afford Willie the same quality type of hunt he had arranged for Randy. A lot of scouting and a slug of hauling, digging, stand placement, sloshing through the mud, and "boating on dry land" went into the preparations.

Randy snuck off early Wednesday to head for Sumter, SC to meet up with Willie, et al. That was nothing, Willie took off from his home state of Illinois a whole day earlier than planned. Ya don't think mebbe them ol' boys wuz a leettle bit on the ready-teddy side, do ya now? Well now, I'm here to tell you it all paid off. The hard work and long anticipation was rewarded with a good-time hunt for all. There was even a harvest or two and some cool video taping. I don't have all the details yet but I do have some hints. Although the hunt is over with Randy back in NC, Willie in Illinois, I will put off the full report for a little longer. I have to get a chance to get with Randy, view the tape, and be told the tales in order to do it full justice. This week I am enjoying a visit from my sister and her husband, Viv & Larry of the 50th Anniversary report earlier in these pages. My dear sis and nutty but equally dear brother-in-law are on their way back to NH from FL and harassing - er - blessing us with a visit, which I wouldn't miss for the world. Not even for a pig hunt! Wendy, one of their sweet daughters said over the phone, "Cheer up, Uncle Bernie - it's only a week!" As soon as, "I've enjoyed about all of this that I can stand," I'll be back with the full report on Willie's pig hunt. (You know I love it.)

About as soon as Willie got home to Illinois I got a message from him that pretty well expresses his feelings in no uncertain terms, "Randy and I sure had some fun chasing those pigs. I'm gonna do it again some time."

Last night (18 Feb.) Randy and I finally got together to discuss the hunt and view his videotape. I have to say it was a darned good tape, especially when you consider it was his first real effort at a hunting tape. I enjoyed the stories and the tape almost as much as if I'd been there. Maybe better when I think about the rain, wet clothes and gear, and sloshing in water over their boots in areas where Allen and Randy had been "dry-land boating" only a scant week previous. Who needs all that? I've done that and worse many times in my lifetime but usually when it started after I got there. Even then it was under duress and perhaps by choice of the military powers to be. Yep, I gotta admit I am a fair-weather hunter, when I have my druthers at least. Our intrepid hunters did have the use of the cabin owned by a friend of Allen for the first two rainy days, which gave them a dry place to sleep. It also allowed them to dry out their gear - again and again. Yuck! After that they opted to stay at Randy's house (in SC that is). I could handle that! Anyway all this to say that while conditions were not the best of Bluebird Days; the party enjoyed the hunt to the fullest in most all cases. Even though poor Allen (after all his hard work) and friend Billy did kind of get bit in the butt, figuratively speaking that is. Allen's new-to-him boat (and the apple of his eye) threw the lower set of gears while he was going to pick up Billy. That took Allen out of the last half of the hunt and ended Billy's hunt before it got started. Sorry to hear that, Allen and about how "badly" it affected you. However, suffice it to say Allen was there long enough to corrupt Willie's Illinois way of talking with some of his local quips. Like, "you ain't from aroun' here, are you," in a case such as someone not putting enough clothes on for a wintertime Carolina boat ride. Or, "you cain't hide money," when someone shows up with a toaster or portable shower for a campout/hunt. Before the end of the hunt, Willie had already picked up some of his (Allen's) lesser sayings. Right on tape the man from Illinois was heard to say he, "slap shot him to the ground," and, "my arm is worn slap out." Welcome to the south, Willie, sometimes known as Allen's world - "Ya know, I ain't so dumb as I look." Of course we all know it is just Allen's way of serving up heaping plates of laughter and local color for his friends.

Before I get to the factual results of the hunt I want to cover what I personally got the most feeling for from both Randy's tales and the tape. We already established Willie's sense of priorities when it comes to family, earlier in these pages. He brought his older brother Don on this trip with him and not just for company on the drive. Hell, his pet baboon could have filled that bill - oh, no, he doesn't have one of those. Well, you know what I'm getting at. Don wanted to be a part of this new experience in new terrain, so Willie wanted him to get that opportunity. No questions - simple as that, even though Don's health may not be top-o-the rung. Don wanted it so bad that he even postponed a scheduled operation (knee or leg I think) to accompany his brother. This was gonna be new stuff, operations are old hat - and a pain in the - well, somewhere at best. While I haven't met Willie I've "chatted" with him and through Randy's tape I feel kind of like I did meet both his brother and him. Willie is a quiet, competent man and Don is quieter yet but they share a good sense of humor and a ready smile. Randy said that although it could not have been easy for Don he never once complained about the very first thing. Not about the discomfort in general or his own in particular. Not about the fact that he only saw one pig and that was the first hunt, before he even got settled in his stand - and the pig had already seen him. The pig barked and left and that was all Don saw of the porker when he looked behind his tree. Just enough to know he was the biggest any of them saw on this hunt. He was a huge one, standing about four feet at the peak of his back. That view could have been easily dimmed by the lack of sightings over the rest of the trip for a less appreciative person. At the end of the fruitless final hunt of the trip, with Randy and the camera perched above him on his tree, Don answered Randy's question about how he felt. Anyone seeing the tape would have no doubt the big, quiet man meant what he said, "I can't think of any place in this world I would rather be at this moment. It's a perfect place and if I live long enough, I'll be back again." His statement was punctuated with an emphatic and firm double-nod of his head. Randy was moved - he had received more of an answer than he could have hoped for.

The harvests were few and far between and the sightings not much more frequent. However the harvests were noteworthy and went to the one hunter who was supposed to be the main focus of the hunt in the first place. Willie was da man! On three occasions his recurve bow was brought to bear and took it's toll. Since Randy was along to view two of the three shots (one through the video camera's eye) he was in a position to reiterate, "Man, he is awesome with that recurve!" Of the total of seven hunters (drifting in and out of the hunt - friend Chris, the veterinarian joined for a little while too) no one else got a shot. There were a couple sightings but not close enough to chance a shot. Willie took one the first night on stand by himself. Judging by the arrow and the other sign it was a good shot but it was one of those unfortunate cases when the carcass is never recovered. Randy and Willie searched hard that night and then the next morning more of the hunters did the same. That pig was guesstimated at a respectable 200 lbs.; but even had it been a smaller one the searches still would have been just as thorough. Randy was on stand a little way from Willie's and though he saw the man from Illinois two times down on the ground walking around, he only wondered what the heck he was doing. He thought Willie was having an Illinois moment I guess. Where were the radios, guys? It never crossed Randy's mind that Willie would have one down that early and be trying to locate his pig hunting mentor for assistance in a search.

Willie's second pig came on a stalk after sighting a bunch of small pigs on "Pistol Ridge". That is what we all call the area where I pistol-shot my two little pigs last year. True to the "example" I had set, Willie got one of "Bernie's satchel pigs." Allen calls them that cause you can tie a strap to them and carry them out like a ladies shoulder bag. Well, no matter - they are fine eating and it's no easy target with a pistol or a bow, especially a recurve bow. Good on ya, Willie! Randy fully enjoyed watching this accurate and well-executed stalk and harvest.

For the third connection of Willie's hunt Randy was in a tree straight across from him with the camera going. They had tried that one other time and pigs came in but while Randy could see them they never got close enough for the camera to see or the hunter to shoot at. This time was different. The pigs came early and the sharpshooter didn't hesitate to pin the largest of the group. They were about the size of the bunch I took mine out of with the bow two autumns ago. Randy got the whole sequence on tape and Willie now has a copy of it. A hunt he'll never forget, even if he wears the tape out. What a shot! Of course Willie had to go down and make sure the fifty to seventy-five pounder was done for but only after and during continual expert coaching from The Ranman. I think I'd have shot him and that camera out of the tree but Willie was heeding his "warnings" and proceeding pretty gingerly. Well, you never know with pigs. It was after Willie made the shot and hauled his prize the 700 yds. to the boat that he was talking Allen's "slap" this and "slap" that junk. Randy was walking first behind him and then ahead of him filming most of that "pleasure" also. He did that on one other hunt while they were going to the stand too - a lot of footage of Willie "sloshing" in the SC waters. When they reached the boat Randy asked Willie what the pig weighed now. After a tired laugh the sweaty hunter from Illinois said, "That 50 - 75 pound hog has gained to 350 pounds now, I'll tell you. My arm is worn slap out." Randy said he was, "proud on him." A rest well earned, Willie. Y'all come back and see us now, ya heah?

As a side note, I think it is pretty clear Randy did his utmost to make this end of the deal happen for Willie and I'm sure Willie and Don feel that way too. It's nice to hear about a reciprocal hunt turning out so well on both ends; you hear so many disaster stories on the subject.

Susie Q had this to say about the *phrase I recently borrowed from one of her pages and put below the display of the award she made to my website. (That's on my Index/Home Page.)

Hey B:
Thanks =) actually I think it came from me... I don't think I ever heard it anywhere... but you know
how that goes... anything is possible.
You know how some friends just get in a turmoil because they don't know what to do or how to
help except to pray for you... or some other friends tell you that they are going to pray for you... I
was reading an email one day from a friend that was just saying that very thing telling me she was
praying for me... it just came to mind that a friend or anyone could not give you a better gift on
earth... they can not go out and buy one or do anything that is entirely free... it does not cost
anything... just some of your time... when you really think about it or when I did anyway it just
touched my heart... and it is true there is not any greater gift that I can give you or you can give me...
than to pray for each other
{{{big ol' hugs}}}

It just shows to go ya that lady "Hunters Are People Too", don't ya think? - B

Note: Near the bottom of this page (and my other pages also) you will see my first published (here) animation. I said early on in these pages that I had a yen to do some my own and I finally made it through the use of my latest new play-pretty, Paint Shop Pro7, a graphics program of some renown. The one I speak of incorporates my website Premise phrase and signature. I hope you like it. I learned how to do this type of animation from an online tutorial placed there by an Australian lady strictly to help folks learn how. You can find it and learn how to make an Animated Signature of your own design at http://www.angelfire.com/hi2/polgara/Animatedsignature.html There are many such splendid tutorials for learning the use of PSP7 on the internet. Brenda Followell (see my Hotlist of Links) was kind enough to head me towards a basketful of them.

Entry, March 11, 2002

Of "Sticks and Strings"

Well, Ace Hardware called both Carl and yours truly back to help them out with a little more part-time work while they are in the process of finding a buyer. The big news however is I got on part-time with Camp's Archery Outlet, Inc at Flatwoods Outfitters in Hubert, NC. The type of work I've really wanted to do for years; ever since my old friend Bob used to let me help him out a little at his bow shop in Maine. That development really means a lot to this old hoss, and it took place even though David, the owner, never has found his way to my website. He says only his wife, Linda messes with the computer and so far he's kept her too busy doing his books (and our checks - you go, girl) to have the time to lead him by the nose - er - hand to see his write-up/story on this website. We gotta do something about that! There are a couple other part-timers there also. John is a former Marine (Semper Fidelis) who joined from his home Island of Guam some years in the past - a dedicated bow technician who really knows his stuff and has the experience to use it well and the easy manner to pass it on to even an old dog attempting to learn new tricks. Adam is a young hard-charger who is filled with facts and good will who, like the rest of us loves working at it there. Adam really wants to be a Navy Seal though and I have no doubts that he'll realize his dream someday. With David's cool hand there to pull it all together (and to pull our chestnuts out of the fire) it is the best little pro-shop I've ever had the pleasure of dealing with and that is the main reason I decided I wanted to be associated with it. Needless to say I am very pleased David saw his way clear to give me a bloody go when he can. As a side note that some of my readers are aware of, the extra money will come in handy right now as my poor overloaded PC has decided it's put up with my abuse long enough. It is now limping along, doing as little as possible until my new tower and monitor arrive to relieve it. Of course we all know that when the dust settles, most of that extra pay will find it's way right back into David's shop and archery/hunting in general.

In conjunction with and as an extension of all this I joined an archery club the other night, the Hubert Archers. It is a new club but seems to be peopled with a lot of shooters and workers who have been members in clubs of this type before. They are all ready, willing, and able to make it a good club. There are a few retired Marines and Air force members and a lot of local talent from this area. I was impressed with their interest, motivation, and personalities at my first meeting the other night. I coughed up my dues for a year right on the spot to the Secretary/Treasurer, Lee. He is a retired Marine whose size made it easy, as well as prudent to hand the money over. No, he's a gentle giant with a quick smile and laugh that runs his own taxidermy shop these days. I had met him a couple times at the archery shop and liked him instantly. To top it off he also is a new computer raider like myself and loves to mess around and do things with it.

The very next day the club was holding it's first 3D Archery Shoot so I went out early in the AM to help out where I could though it was mostly all done ahead of time. I made arrangements for Randy to meet me there later in the day (after a sleep-in for him) so we both could shoot our first organized 3D "shoot". We had a ball and while the old guy (namely me) in our group didn't exactly distinguish himself, Randy actually shot high enough to only be a couple of slots out of "placing" in our class. Well, I did place but I think it was the "place" at the bottom of what was a very large class. Boy, have I slipped on my range estimation. In reality, I guess it is a lot better than when I first started (up in Maine) but at my arrow speed a couple yards off in guesstimate can turn an eight into a five in a heartbeat. I'm very familiar with fives and accumulated a whole hat full of them for sale if anyone should happen to need some. I did get one 12 and declared right then and there that I was just going to stay with that target for the rest of the day. Randy and Bobby, another gentle giant, from Wilmington, wouldn't let me though. Overall the shoot seemed to be run very well and there was real good attendance for any shoot - I believe it was 61 registered shooters and a good number of viewers. A good time was had by all as near as I could cipher and I, for one, think the club should be commended for it's collective effort. Best part was we got to meet and get closer to a lot of very nice people. I've got to get back to shooting 3D regularly again and then I can't wait until the next club shoot (in April) when I hope to improve a little - in spite of popular opinion to the contrary. I mean how could I not improve? Ouch, don't answer that!

I view the job, the club, its members, and all the associated activities as a source of more interesting stories for these pages. Hang onto your feathered hats guys. Oh yeah, I liked the Robinhood image as a possible logo for the club, Lee. I think it encompasses universal thoughts about bow shooting. Oh well, leave it to me to be at right angles but it's OK. The one that the majority of members settled on was also one of my initial picks and it looks real good in Bill's rendition. How can anyone take exception to a target and arrows; I for one will be proud to wear it!

Since entering the fascinating world of archery/bow hunting, some 12 years ago this Spring, I've resisted the allure of carbon arrows over aluminum shafts. I finally succumbed a couple days ago. I think the Zero Effect Muzzy rest had a lot to do with it, as it eliminates one of carbons drawbacks. With it there is no concern with shaft size and vane/rest clashes. Anyhoo - I'm gonna give it a go. All the pros and cons of carbon versus aluminum have been hashed and re-hashed time and again and will continue to be argued across campfires, in bow shops, on ranges, etc. Therefore I won't belabor those points here. Let it be enough to just say that I've decreased my shaft diameter and arrow weight while I've increased my speed without any appreciable change/decrease in front of center per centage (FOC%) or kinetic energy. At the same time I've placed myself in the unenviable position of needing to replace one and a half dozen perfectly good aluminum arrows and changing out all of my field points and (new) broadheads. We bow shooters are a strange bunch but for many of us making changes is like the forbidden fruit - damned hard to resist. In the process of opting for this choice I think tanked myself and my friends to distraction and then shot myself into lingering pain from neck to big toe on the fatal day of the change. That all in order to make as sure as possible that the correct arrow type, size, weight, etc. was settled on. So far it looks pretty good (on paper and on the practice range) but I'll let you know how it goes. I'm considering one more change along with this. I may go from movable sight back to fixed pin sights, as I've also flattened my trajectory some. I mention all this to point out the fun and games inherent in the challenge of archery/bow hunting. More fun than a hunting sock full of marsh grass points - ouch.

Speaking Of That

The previous subject, that is. Still along the same trail. Due to an unexpected death in David's family he went back to his family home to attend services. The heart and prayers of all of us who know David are with him and his family during these difficult times. David told me, "You know, you forget how caring and nice people can be until a tragedy like this comes up."

I happened by the bow shop just as David's family got the news and he asked if I could be in the shop the next few days. Of course I could so I worked most all of last week. In the aftermath Dave was able to make arrangements for other workers and friends to come by and help me out - seeing as how I'm the new kid on the block. He appreciated all of it. Believe me I also appreciated having people around to help me with the technical stuff. Unfortunate as the situation was, the good part for me was a lot of condensed exposure to the shop operation. I of course enjoyed that and was glad to be able to be of some use to David. I'll get up with him Tuesday to tell him about all the things I messed up. Naw, just kidding; it really wasn't all that bad except I kept answering the phone, "Camp's Outlet Archery instead of Camp's Archery Outlet." Leave it to me to "rename" his business while he is away.

David has contracted for his new business website (in partnership with another David who runs the Rocky Boots Outlet there at Flatwoods) and it is up and running. A couple pages are still under construction but it is looking good. Check it out at <www.campsarcheryoutlet.com> and come visit us in person also (directions are on the site).

In keeping with my comment about bow shooters and changes, I did switch back to a fixed pin(s) site on my bow. and am liking the Trophy Ridge I chose. They have a new model that is replete with bubble level and a port where you can insert a light stick that lasts for six hours or so and funnels non electric illumination to the fiber optic pins for low visibility situations. This means it would not knock one out of eligibility if you were lucky enough to get a late evening shot at a "book" buck. However that model is a little above my budget at this time. I sure think it is worth it though. Anyway the one I got has the same easy, positive adjustments without tools that makes the Trophy Ridge sights so popular in the first place. Also with the help of Bill, a Marine Gunny who is also a Camp's Staff Shooter, I stripped some uncalled for excess weight off my bowstring. This accomplished about three things - it taught me a few little tidbits, it raised my speed about 10 more fps, and most important it brought my kinetic energy back up to 51 foot pounds. This points up all the fun and games you can have "tweaking" your bow for the best overall operation. When I get with David this week I will also be setting up a schedule whereby I will be working at least one day a week now until the busier season. That will help keep the pedal down on my learning process.

We have another "club shoot" coming up around the middle of April. Also Randy was busy setting things up this weekend for a Easter Weekend pig hunt. However it isn't looking too great for me being free to make that one either, but we'll see. I'll have the report and pics anyway, I hope.
 

Entry, April 01, 2002

Easter Hog Hunt

The aforementioned Easter Hog Hunt went off without a hitch (and without yours truly - the cost of learning a new trade at the bow shop). Might as well tell you right at the git-go there were no harvests. At this point some readers will click off and some will say, "Whew - skated this one." Hopefully some will just read on, for lack of anything better to do - just picking. As I pointed out, I couldn't make it and Allen and Billy were also out. Allen's absence was due to the death of his wife's grandfather (our thoughts and prayers are with you Corrie); Billy had bought a "new" second hand boat from Stan (Allen's father-in-law you may recall) but doesn't feel confident enough to try it out without the guidance of friend Allen just yet. I can sure empathize with that, ol' buddy. The hunt was originally set up so the Ranman could introduce Al and Eric to the mystifying allure of a wild (feral) pig hunt in SC and that is the part that came off well.

"Who the hell are Al and Eric," you may ask? Well they are gents that work with Randy that we have hunted with before. You may now recall that Eric was a young giant that went to Roanoke with us once and was mentioned in my report. (No harvest then either - Hmmm.) Al (kind of middle-aged) also hunted up there but with another Al and a third person whose name I think was Dave but this feeble brain is not positive. We ran into them from time to time and they spent one night in our campsite with us. We also shared scouting and sightings info with them. I may or may not have mentioned that before. Good guys, all and that's what counts. So these two were Randy's hunt mates on this trip to the swamps and bogs we love to haunt - er - hunt.

The determined trio left with high hopes on Thursday, camped out three nights and returned Sunday AM to spend Easter with their respective families. (See? Hunters Are People Too!) Al had told me during a phone call to the bow shop (regarding a bow part he was anxiously waiting for) that he expected to really enjoy the trip even if no pigs showed up - he had seen the tracks and all. According to Randy they all three did just that. One (or more) of the highlights of the trip was the quantity and quality of catfish caught on "limb lines" at night, cooked in the outdoors, and gobbled down with tired, hungry hunter relish, as is our habit on trips to that area.

There were other highlights also. Hopefully some of the camaraderie was captured on film, as Randy had planned, and we'll get a glimpse of that in the Gallery soon. Probably the "largest" high was when Eric, hunting right near where Willie got his pig sighted a Big Mamoo of a pig - guesstimated at about 300pounds plus. "It" came out across the stream from him and was headed his way but as things happen at times like that she changed her mind and wound up running and jumping into a watery area. It did that just after it got close enough to come into Al's view also. He didn't get to see it as long or as well as Eric did but at least he did get a look-see. As big as Eric is and as much as he hunts bear with his dad, if he says 300 + it probably was on the plus side for sure. It was black and Eric said, "It looked just like a 300 pound Labrador Retriever leaping into the water to fetch ducks." I can just imagine his state of mind and the racing of his heart during the incident. Then later they were all walking towards "Pistol Ridge" (of my gunfight fame) when they heard at least a couple of pigs fighting. They rushed but were unable to get there in time to see anything more that the sign left by the combatants. Shortly after that a turkey gobbled and Randy plied his ample talent at voice calling. He was able to work the hot Tom to within about 75 yards. For him that was the most exciting part of the hunt. He is good at it - smartbutt. Turkey season starts the middle of this month! On top of all those thrills in the springtime, they also jointly saw about five antlerless deer and that always gladdens the heart of any hunter. Watch for the pics (I have added some others lately) on the Gallery, Pg5 and if there is more to tell here I'll add it later - gotta go get ready for turkey season...I mean work.