Date/Subject

04/16/2002 Gobble Gobble

05/14/2002 Mother's Day Archery Shoot

05/18/2002 Re: New Image On Home Page

06/05/2002 Hot Hog Hunt

06/10/2002 June 9th 3D Shoot

06/16/2002 Open Father's Day Card To Pop

06/16/2002 Do You Remember "Superman" Chad?  

06/30/2002 Last of 2001-2002 Season?

07/04/2002 "Geocatching Sparky"

07/08/2002  Last & First Shoot

08/23/2002 e-bay, Anyone?

09/01/2002 Scouting (?) - Into Early Season

09/15/2002 Now It Begins...

10/13/2002 Test

10/25/2002 Time Scoots

05/17/2003 Endit

Entry, April 16, 2002
 
 Gobble Gobble

Leading into the turkey season for the spring of 2002 things were looking better than they had (for Randy and I) since we first met. Ayuh, that was back at the beginning of the turkey season in 1997. (Holy turkey droppings, Ranman! We're having our fifth anniversary.) As Randy said, "Sometimes it seems forever longer than that!" This year we just have more and better options here in NC (and perhaps SC too) it seems; i.e. Sparky's farm and the Roanoke River area. Yep, things were really looking good! I hadn't got one of the wily birds since my first year of turkey hunting in Maine. Randy got his first one last year but I got the impression he felt like it was more of a result of Allen's performance than his so while he was pleased he wasn't fully satisfied. We were definitely ready and we planned to try the farm the first day (a Saturday) and we were drawn for Roanoke the following weekend. That is if work and other factors permitted.

On the day after the opening we (or at least I) were/was slated for the second Hubert Archers 3D archery shoot at Flatwoods also. Randy and I  had been lucky enough to be drawn for a hunt at Roanoke River area the following Thurs., Fri., & Sat. but it looked like between our work and Randy's family commitments in SC we would only get to hunt the first day there. We had discussed plans to go up Wed. night, set up camp, hunt Thurs. and head home Thurs. evening. Gotta take it where/when you can get it and we fell in love with that area last year during deer archery and black powder seasons.

Season for the King of The Spring Woods  (gobblers, to the uninitiated) opens a tad earlier in SC. Because of that, Randy and Allen of Sumter got to hit the woods to trade wits with the big birds the first weekend in April. Yep, while Poor, Poor Pitiful Me was working my fingers to the bone on my two part time jobs. How in the world did things come to such a  sorry pass, I wonder? They were bound to try the turkey on Pistol Ridge, where Randy had talked to one the previous week. Well, they tried that but just about the time they got to the ridge where they wanted to set up a pack of dogs ran through the area trailing something unknown. They let it settle down and then set up to give it a go. Not long after they settled in the dogs started up again and tore back through the area. The hunt just kind of fizzled into a downhill spiral from there on out the way a hunt will when your confidence is busted. They agreed it was still good just to be out there again and I'm sure it was.

Well, as any hunter can easily imagine, things didn't come to pass just the way we had in mind. Opening day of turkey season found the Ranman pulling up to my house just as I was pulling out of my driveway. We were right in sync and on cue - it's almost scary how ready we were. We were both taking our own vehicles as I had to be back for a Hubert Archers club meeting that evening and Randy planned to stay till the end of shooting hours, as is his habit whenever he can. We made contact on our vehicle CB radios and kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way to Sparky's Long Branch Farm. We caught up on things, compared notes, and laid out/rechecked our plan of action. Boy, we had it down to the gnat's butt. By going in from different sections we two would "surround" the area where we had most often seen and heard turkey action during deer season. It would be up to the gobblers to decide which of our locations they would choose to head for after flying down from their roosts.  We in turn could shift our positions to compensate for any "slight errors" on the part of the gobblers. Right!

It all started out smooth enough. We had birds between us (at least 4-6 gobblers) sounding off and even seeming to head in each of our perspective directions. We had also checked our hand radios on the trip up and were in contact over them. It was a toss up as to whether the birds or the hunters were the most fired up. We each rushed to set up our decoys in strategic spots, back ourselves up to a tree with a view, and break out our numerous calls. That was when the bottom fell out of the still dimly lit sky. Now, "they" say rain doesn't bother adult wild turkeys so you shouldn't stay home just because of bad weather during turkey season, unless it bothers you. However it does wreck temporary havoc with your turkey calls and can certainly dampen the spirits of the hunters, which it proceed to due in grand fashion at that point and for an hour or so afterwards. Fortunately it wasn't overly chilly and the overall picture cleared up considerably into being a pretty nice day. However by that time the turkeys were all off somewhere doing what they do best (stay out of sight) and not bothering us in anyway whatsoever. Thanks a lot!

Later in the AM Randy and I got together for some team sitting and calling. We did have one hen turkey talking to us that sounded like she wanted to come check us out but she kept hanging up. We hoped she would come in so we could at least see one - and perhaps a tom would come to check her out. Didn't happen though. After we had split up again I found I was more tired from my first spring outing than I had realized and decided I'd better drive home while I still could stay awake. That way I could get some rest before attending the club meeting. Randy called me in the evening and the rest of his day in the field was pretty much uneventful as well. We both (at different times) had stopped at Sparky's welding shop and touched base with him before leaving.

The next day, I attended the Hubert Archer's 2nd 3D competition shoot. I was there to help out some, work in the shop some, and shoot (or at least donate my $10.00 and shoot at it). Actually I said earlier that I wanted to at least improve my score over the first shoot. I did that so I was happy with the results - not as happy as I would like to have been but so be it. I improved by about 30 points so things were looking up. However the sole reason I didn't improve more was faulty judgment of distances on my part. More Practice doing that is the answer unless you can shoot a bow powerful and fast enough to have a very flat trajectory out to 30 yards or more - I don't. I was very pleased with my shooting other than the ranging thing though. All of my shots were pretty much where they should have been from left to right. I just got too many fives high and low from missing the mark on how far the target was from me. For those who don't know, you can't discuss range (distance) specifics during a 3D competition shoot, nor can you use any range finding device. The overall shoot went quite well and some of the winners were our club members and some were folks not from our club so it made a good spread. As usual the children all get trophies or medals for shooting. All clubs try to keep the youngsters interest in bow shooting alive and well. This shoot I was in a group made up of a Marine Gunny Sgt (Bill), my boss (David) who are both very good and experienced 3D competition shooters, a traditional bow shooter (another Bernie) who is also very good but it was his first competition and he was rather nervous and trying too hard perhaps. I think he enjoyed it and will be back though - a nice guy and he may even join the club. Our group was rounded out by two youngsters - Bill's son (Billy) and the red-headed daughter of a neighbor of his (Abby "please call me Abigail" - at least for this day). I would judge them at about 8-10 years old and they made shooting the course even more fun. They did real well too and were very well behaved throughout a long course for a child. It just happened that Bobby (who I shot with at the first shoot) and Adam (one of my work mates) formed the group behind us (along with a third person I didn't know) so I also got to talk with them some around the course. David took a third place and Bobby wasn't too far behind him in that class. A great time all around. Try one, you'll like it! Our next club sponsored shoot is to be held on Mother's Day, May 12th.

Watch for the report on our overnighter "Turkey Trot" to Roanoke River later this week.

The "Turkey Trot" turned into the "Can't Play Drag" and all because of that nemesis of all mankind and most animals, The Big "C". That is of course the insidious disease that sneaks up on folks without warning, running rampant through friends, relatives, etc. affecting all our lives sooner or later. Just as I was about to finish up my last day at the Ace Hardware due to David using me more often at the bow shop, I got a call from my new boss. Could I help him out again with opening/working the bow shop all week? Cancer had struck and looked like it would have it's way with a dear friend of his who had been fine when he attended the funeral of David's Brother a couple weeks before. The friend lived in PA and had driven to IL/IN for that funeral to support David, having no inkling of his own pending plight. Now it had jumped on him and at a time when his wife was in CA on a trip. David felt he needed to go to his friend's aid and support, if I could help. His other worker's only being available on weekends in most instances, he was left with little other alternative. I saw no way I could, in good conscience, turn him down nor would I want to. I told David I would be glad to be there Wed. through Sat. and join him Tues. for briefing after finishing up at the hardware. Saturday David's son would be in to help me out. "Little David", as they call him (Ha!), is a big, full time policeman in a local town, a hell of a bowman, and one of the good guys to boot. Of course Adam and Bill would keep their cell phones on in case I needed a question answered. David apologized for having to leave me alone again so soon. I told him it was a good way to find out what I don't know - not necessarily learn anything, but sure find out what I need to learn.

David of course was not aware of the overnighter to Roanoke for turkey that Randy and I had planned and I wasn't about to bring it up. The learning process and David's situation in this case took precedence, as is the type of scenario that befalls many a planned trip for most hunters. I fired off a message to Randy, hoping but fully feeling he would understand. He not only understood but felt I had done the right thing. It's good to know your friends and hunting buddies at times like these. The (Our) turkey season was fast changing from a great outlook to a big, "Look Out!" Randy would go up to Sparky's farm for another early morning, before work try at those birds on Wed. AM. I, in turn, would go to work and think good thoughts for his success - Oh yes you will too, Bernie Dunn!

Ever the solicitous soul, my good buddy Randy called me at work Wed. to gloat - I mean to inform me of the outcome of that try. He went in and sat pretty much where I started out (and sat in the rain) on the first day. He kicked up a deer on the way in, saw at least two turkeys in a tree down in the swamp (too close by accident), hurriedly set up his decoys, and listened to the birds talking, possibly about his presence. Finally in desperation he tried to talk them down, as they were staying up longer than the norm. Randy was afraid they had spotted him but had little choice. At first all they would do was answer his calls but stayed put even though he was now out of their sight. He tried a fly down imitation, beating his chest with his hat and that did the trick. He heard them fly down and then they held conversations in earnest. It was exciting for him and close but no see-gar. He eventually saw a turkey walking in the brush but could never get a fix on a beard or a tell tale red head to be sure it was a tom. The durned bird either saw, heard, or sensed Randy's presence and took flight. At that point, since Randy had carried his shotgun that time, he cold have busted the big bird but still was not sure of the gender. Good call, Randy. He got a glimpse of some birds later moving towards a field and tried to work around them but it never panned out and then it was time for him to head out. All in all, good and encouraging results though. Oh - I really did appreciate the call and update even if I was juggling a phone, a customer, and a sale. The customer is a turkey hunter too so he understood and was getting pleasure out of it too. - - - and the saga continues, even though it is now unseasonably warm - we'll see.

Continue it does! Our springtime quest is still just that and while harvestless hunts sometimes are not as interesting in the telling, they are still a big part of hunting. The weather did cool back to a more normal 60s to low 70s and an early weekday caught Randy and I headed towards Sparky's farm again. Once more we were in separate trucks. I would have to leave earlier than he, as my work schedule had left a bunch of "other springtime stuff" undone. This time Randy had invited a sales rep friend from the Raleigh area to accompany him. Chris (another one) had mentioned he hardly ever even got to hear a gobbler in his area. That was enough for Randy to include him in hopes "our" birds would be more vocal for him. Wouldn't you know that would be the very morning the birds at the farm would have lockjaw? Don't ask - we have no idea why. We don't feel they have been pressured by either us or the other pair that are hunting there. At least not enough to account for that. You never know with turkeys. We did all see birds that day though, mostly hens with a spattering of immature jakes thrown in. I saw only hens with the exception of one gobbler already in flight, Chris never got a shot at the jakes he saw, but Randy was in the hot seat. Actually almost nothing happened early in the morning, as a turkey hunter always hopes will occur. It was mid-morning before the sightings started. We had moved out of the woods and taken positions along field/woods edges. Randy was on a point where a dirt road ran close to the woods and there were about three dusting sites evident. The big birds love to dust themselves and anywhere they seem to do that is a good place for a hunter to be. Besides it was an ideal place for a chance with the bow, which was Randy's weapon of choice after the early morning hunt. He started having turkeys coming in to his spot shortly after settling in. They  just came walking down the dirt road that winds through the fields. Later it came to pass that he had a hen and two jakes on him at the same time. Now, Randy very seldom misses with his bow, especially when he is holding on game. However, turkey hunting is a whole other story and bow hunting turkeys is another one yet. Also this was the first time he ever had drawn on a turkey, or had one in that close I think. Somehow he did miss, as a later close inspection of his clean arrow proved. However he thought he had hit the bird, as it jumped up in the air, flapping and squawking as only a turkey can. It also appeared to be flopping on the ground to Randy's eyes, unaccustomed to the antics of a startled turkey up that close. According to his own description, I would have loved to have been there to see the Ranman come busting out of the woods fringe like a madman in his frenzy to capture his "wounded" bird. This in turn startled the three birds even more and real pandemonium broke out. Randy was left to stare at empty spots and no sign of a hit. We later figured either the tail end of the arrow had slapped the jakes back or the arrow had struck right under his feet. Randy's voice burst over the radio, as out of breath and nervous as a young swain on his first prom date, "I just missed one, I just missed one - shit - shit - I just missed one!" I'll wager he doesn't even know what all he actually said. Sorry FCC, it was an understandable breach in radio procedure protocol (regarding cursing over the airways). 

Not too long after that Randy invited Chris, who was having no action where he was, up to sit with him in hopes they would both get a chance "next time". They did too, but not good enough to get a shot off with either Randy's bow or Chris' shotgun. I left the fray shortly after that to drive home to my chores, planning my next visit as I drove. Perhaps if I sneak around early and get over beyond where I saw those hens .... later, guys. I told Randy I won't use his spot even if I go up alone, until he has at least one more chance at it anyway. Randy will try again Saturday (is he ever fired up) if all goes well but I probably won't get out until next week on a weekday again. I'll keep posting to this subject until the season ends - only about a month all told and half over now.

Saturday: The turkeys weren't quite as kind to Randy as on our previous hunt. It was a day that started off with a scare. Getting there real early and alone, he got out of his truck to find himself in that sudden darkness that we all know so well. He started around his truck thinking turkey thoughts and to get his gear out. Just at that time a deer that had been hidden behind the old tobacco barn he parked by blew (screamed) at him and bolted off into the dark forest beyond. Randy said he almost jumped high enough to land in the back of his truck. They really can startle you when they do that and you aren't expecting it. The turkeys never came near "his point" that day but he did hear more gobblers than on the prior  hunt. He moved locations to intercept a trio of toms he heard later in the day. He said he really had a ball working them for about two hours. They were answering his calls and working closer to him while having a running argument with some irritated crows at the same time. Just about the time things should have come to a head, they clammed up. Cautiously moving to see if he could discern what had occurred he accidentally kicked up a big old gobbler with a hen. They took flight before he could react but it answered his questions. Some free hens had responded to his toms raucous chatter before he could get to them, or they to him. He never saw or heard the other two again. He still felt it ranked as one of his most interesting days in the turkey fields to date, just working the buggers and hearing their obvious answers to his probing calls and then tracking their movements. OK, my turn now, old buddy (I hope); Monday or Tuesday.  Only two Saturdays left and Randy has prior family commitments next weekend. No telling what's in store for me.

Monday I went up the road to do battle with the turkeys but the only turkey evident was me - they not only wouldn't come out and play but they were not even making any sounds at all. It was windy as all get out which doesn't help plus  I hate the wind, it makes me nervous as a cat - so I went home. Tuesday Randy went up alone and suffered pretty much the same fate except he did hear a couple of the big birds. "Where," you ask? In the area where I had been to start with and at the end the day before. What else would a turkey hunter expect. Randy, of course, was in a different area. Again, what else would a turkey hunter expect. Getting down to the short rows now and each of us probably will only get one or possibly two more attempts and the way it looks those will also be at different times. We are talking about a pig hunt next month in SC - we'll show these turkeys if they don't want to play.

Randy's family came up on Friday so he didn't get to go Sat. either. Probably a good thing because it rained down big time most of the day, on our little part of NC at least. Randy's son, Hunter stayed up with him for the following week so we all three decided to try an evening hunt on Tues. None of us saw any of the elusive birds but Randy found some more good dust bowls that I would try the next AM. Hunter had sat well for a fair amount of time for one so young  but it still gave Randy time to take him scouting a little afterwards to break the monotony. I had a gobbler talking to me for about three gobbles - well, that's better than three days bread and water. Actually it was a whale of a lot better compared to my results up to that point this season. I just love it when they will talk to you. However that was to be the full extent of our conversation. First of all a hen sounded off after his third answer to me so he probably lost interest right away anyhoo, as she was closer to him. Also at about that same time three deer came up the wooded hill behind the edge of the field where I was set up. They either saw, heard, winded, or sensed my presence (as deer so often do) before I did other than hear them. Faster than an opening switchblade they turned tail and busted back down the hill. Believe me they made a lot more noise leaving than they had coming. From the sound of their pell-mell flight they must have just about ran over those poor turkeys. Well at least two of the deer did. The other one I heard splashing off in the other direction, through the branch and swampy areas forever, or so it seemed. Needless to say, the turkeys became silent as a tomb. Stampeding deer have a dramatic effect on all wildlife. End of hunt - getting close to dark anyway. Go say hey to Sparky and go home for the night. Hunter spent the ride home sleeping with his head on his father's leg. Times that they couldn't buy for any price and that no one can ever take away from them.

The next morning I returned to "sit" the new dust bowls Randy had located and shared the info on with me. I was hoping to have a similar hunt to when Randy had set up on fresh dust bowls earlier in the season. Well I had my best hunt of the season and yet I still never saw a single bird. How can that be? Because I spent better than three hours talking to one gobbler and no "other hen" interrupted our conversation. He answered almost every sound I made while using three different turkey calls. What a morning! The only thing is when I tried to move to get him to come on in instead of just moving back and forth across my flank, I found the recent rains had placed large amounts of water in that area and he was hung up on the other side. I knew there had to be some good reason he was hanging up just out of sight and reach but I wasn't anxious to give up my vantage point by the dustbowls. Turned out it probably wouldn't have mattered because he was the only action in town anyway. By the time I finally decided to give up that spot and try to work my way up the branch and across to his side he had lost interest in my "coy hen" and disappeared from the area. To add to the mornings fun though I found three piles of bear scat and kicked up one, possibly two, deer when I started moving around. It wasn't long after that when the heat had it's way "talking" to me - It said, "Go to the truck, get a cold DC (Diet Coke) out of the cooler, and head for the barn, old man." The turkeys have flown away from us again this season it would appear.

Mother's Day Archery Shoot

Wow! Who'd a thunk it? That could be said about The Mother's Day Archery Shoot sponsored by Hubert Archers for more reasons than one. Again, I entered with the thoughts in mind to support my club's efforts, donate my fair share, see if I could improve my previous tourney score of 171, and because I love to shoot 3D for the fun and the practice. We, the Hubert Archers, were a little shaky on whether we would wind up "eating" this tournament or not, since it was being held on Mother's Day. Some of our own members couldn't even be there and we fully understood going in that people have plans for that day. Plans that are perpetuated by a  bond that can not and should not be messed with, or even questioned. ("If  Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!") Camp Lejeune Archers held a shoot the day before that and hadn't had as much attendance as they would have hoped, presumably because of weekend plans or travel. That made us even more dubious about our choice of a date. The morning dawned beautiful and clear but only a handful of our members sat around (after finishing last morning "do it to its") staring at each other with lingering and growing doubts in our minds. Well, as the day progressed, more and more members and guests showed up. Happily we wound up with 71 registered shooters plus some non shooters. The best attendance to date. What a huge success and what a good crowd. Thank you, Lord.

David Camp had decided to revert to his original archery love and enter in the Traditional Class with a recurve bow that day. His comment as he took his favorite old friend down from the wall was, "I don't care how I shoot, I'm going to just have fun today." He'd been wrestling with compound bows all week for customers and himself and was ready for a change of pace. After a Club picture with our new shirts, Dave and Mike, one of the owners of the Flatwoods Outfitters complex, got a third shooter (rules call for minimum of three) and took off first - in great spirits I might add. Dave would relieve John in the bow shop when he got off the range, but I needed to get out and get to shooting too. I would then relieve Dave so he could "circulate", promote, and help with the shoot. No one was ready to go out at that point though. A few more had showed up by then but they were all practicing on the bag targets. I helped John a little, talked around, and did some circulating myself, while keeping an eye peeled for a group. Marty called to me to come take some practice shots. While I am a firm believer in practice, my stock answer at times like that is that I have all I can do to shoot the 20 targets of the course. If I practice a bunch just prior to running a 3D course, I'd never make it around the course. He was shooting beside a good shooter from Cherry Point Archers, also named John. In a couple minutes they asked me if I was, "good to go, then". I told them I was just waiting for a trio and they invited me to join them. So the dye was caste and off we went, a couple of the better shooters in the coalition and me. John was in the Hunters Class but Marty was in Outlaw same as I. All three of us were required to shoot from the same distance stakes though. Well it turned out Marty did what he's been doing pretty much all season and took First in Outlaw. John also was on top of his game and wound up taking First in Hunters Class. Congratulations to both of them. I did improve my score over the last shoot - by 25 points for a new personal high of 186. Needless to say I was happier than a pig in a slop bucket with that. Heck I'd have been pleased with an improvement of 5 points or so. Would you believe though, not only did I beat new friend Lee by a couple points ( for which he gave me ample verbal abuse about "playing" him and others about my abilities) but I actually finished Second In Outlaw Class, under Marty. I couldn't believe it but I was sure some kind of a happy camper, I'll tell you.

Now, I'm not naive enough to think that "The Happening" starts a trend or anything. As already mentioned, Dave had opted out of the Outlaw class for that morning, friend Bobby (who has been doing so well with Seconds and Thirds) kind of fell through the scoring cracks on the day in question, and Little Dave (who oft times beats his dad out) was not in attendance. Also while John's (from the shop) shoulder had healed up enough to let him shoot, it wasn't back up to full strength yet. There may be others I'm not aware of or I'm  forgetting also. I know that a bunch of "what ifs" had to fall in place that day for this old hoss to take Second Place. My point is, it's a big class with a lot of real good shooters. If I want to stay in the running I have really got to "shoot up" or find a different class to compete in - or get the hey out of Dodge, as it were. For this one time though I not only had a ball (as I always do) but I also made a real decent showing. Thank you for that experience too, Lord. I shot no dreaded misses and none of those hateful fives, but a multitude of eights (pretty much straight up and down at center) made it more than obvious that my range estimation still needs more improvement. Remember, try any kind of competition and shoot with folks better than you any time you get the chance. You'll enjoy it.

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Entry, May 18, 2002

Re: New Image On Home Page

You may (I hope) have noticed a notable change in my Index/Home Page on visits after this date. After serving my site well ever since it's humble beginning, I have turned the Blue Horse animation out to a well deserved pasture. In his place, but running the other way, you now view a very nice picture and animation of an Appaloosa Horse. I owe thanks to a new cyber friend, Jimmy Pilkington, Webmaster of Best Hunting Links web site (see my Hot List of Links). He makes a lot of graphics and animations so I'm not sure yet where this one comes from - if he found it for me or made it himself. I'll find out, but for now I just want to thank him for sending it to me and get it on my page. As I stated early on in this web site endeavor, I've always been a horse (and cowboy) fancier. Jimmy knew this much from my writings. What he could not have known is my favorite horses have always been Morgans, Arabians, and Appaloosas. If a given Appaloosa happened to have either Morgan or Arabian in it also, so much the better. Appaloosas started out as a color classification that later became accepted (through hard work by breeders and supporters) as a full fledged Breed. It was believed that they originally sprang from a mixture between Spanish horses and Indian ponies and had a strong tendency to perpetuate their color and markings. If you would like to know more about these beautiful and interesting horses put horse + appaloosa into any search engine. If you think you never saw an Appaloosa, you may be wrong. The late, great actor Jimmy Stewart rode an Appaloosa in many of his western movies, most notably in Broken Arrow. Later when that movie became a popular TV series the actor who was cast in Jimmy's former part also rode an Appaloosa. Both of those horses were beautiful examples of both the breed and the favored (at that time) color pattern. When I owned four horses and ran a riding stable as a very young man, one of my four horses (my primary ride) was a very Indian pony-looking Appaloosa. I was in love with him as only a young horse fancier can be or can understand. Some of my relatives will remember him. Most notably my brother, Everett who looked  at his spotted butt all the way up over a blasted mountain between Maine and New Hampshire one spring night when he helped me move my horses from North Fryeburg, ME to North Conway, NH. If I ever find my pictures of him (the horse) I will put one on this web site - I've been looking for them ever since I started it. He was from FL and was scared to death of the boulders he saw in New England but then he was also scared of grasshoppers, in one eye only.  He was a spirited little rascal, a character, and  the apple of my eye (and main ride) from the first time I saw him in my boss' stable. I worked with him one whole season before purchasing him. His given name was Sheeba but to me he was always "Appie". I had to give him up shortly before joining the Marine Corps. Thanks again for taking me back, Jimmy, and for helping make my pages even more "me" by providing me with that fine drawing and animation. Hope you folks like and enjoy it as much as I do.

Take a look on Gallery, Pg5 for more nostalgia in the form of another example from the Silver Screen of what I'm talking about. (Note: Also don't miss new family pics posted May 23 - Most of them are stills lifted off a tape from my Digital Video Camcorder, which I will be taking on our hog hunt and hopefully putting to good use.)

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Entry, June 05, 2002

Hot Hog Hunt

Yes Sir, "H" Cubed or "H" to the third power - Hogs, Heat, and Hunting. Turned out to be a great combo, in spite of the heat. Our much postponed and often modified hunt finally came off on June's first weekend. It may very well have been one of our very best or at least most interesting hog hunts to date. It certainly was different in many ways. I feel like I was fortunate enough to have been the main beneficiary of a lot of hard, previous work by Randy and Allen (and some by Eric too). Eric feels a lot the same way about his results too, I'm sure. The heat really changed things a goodly amount. For one thing we opted to stay at Randy's (wife's - Thank you, Christy) SC house rather than camping out. We knew sleeping and staying half-way clean and not quite so smelly would be next to impossible in the "bush". Also we did away with morning hunts to conserve and concentrate our energy more on the higher percentage late evening hunts. The plan was to check the site choices Thursday evening and start hunting Friday evening.

Driving down to SC, I rode with Eric. Randy had his two children (seen before in the Gallery pages) up for the week before so they were riding with him and it would also give me and Eric a chance to communicate more. We had hunted together at Roanoke the year before and shot on my target range on a number of occasions (with and without Randy) but riding shotgun with him would be  a chance to talk more, one on one. It had been raining in NC pretty good all morning but as we left around noon we expected to run out from under it. Never happen, G. I. Joe! It progressively got worse to the point that at times it was difficult to see very far ahead of us. Other than the rain, it was a pleasant trip and I reconfirmed my opinion that Eric was both a good talker and good listener. We passed the time exchanging a large number of stories; swapped yarns, as it were. We were in radio contact with Randy and along the way we pretty well all agreed that Thursday night we would be better served staying our butts in the house and getting our last minute gear checks gone over again. It turned out it was one of our smarter moves. In the evening we stepped out of the house in SC and looked in the direction we would have been set up. There we could see nothing but huge black clouds and much electrical ado in the skies - lightening. "No thanks, I don't care for some, I just had any."

So now we would go out a little earlier on Friday afternoon to check sites. Once we made our decisions about where we would hunt, Randy would drop me and Eric off to hunt together. After that, Randy would return to the boat ramp where he would meet Allen, returning from work. Because it would be late then, it was decided they would hunt the site closest to the launch site. Also it was a site that looked like there was a lot of action going on and Eric and I both felt they had done the most scouting work and deserved the choice spot, if any. All of the sites looked too good for it to be a problem anyway. This plan would allow them time to get settled in before it was too late. Yes we had four sites but it is always safer, when possible, to hunt in pairs - it is also easier if you get lucky enough to have to haul a hog out. Being so hot, we checked sites in shorts and light T-shirts (along with rubber boots). We should have got pictures of that! A strange looking crew. We knew our clothes would be soaked with sweat after the effort so we carried our hunting clothes in packs left at the water's edge. When Randy dropped us, Eric and I made another  trip in to take our stands, bows, etc. in to our site and pick trees to hang our stands on. We then returned to the water to cool down, get a snack, and finally change into our hunting clothes for a leisurely walk back in, to keep the sweat down. Nothing helped much but every little bit of prevention makes one more confident and comfortable. It says so right here in fine print.

OK! So the plan was set and in motion. Eric and I were in our trees trying to cool down and knew Randy and Allen were speeding towards their site with high anticipations. Unfortunately, Randy and Allen were to be left in the lurch by the fickle hogs. A big disappointment anytime but more so for Allen on this night for he was carrying his recurve (traditional) bow and hoping for his first hog harvest with it. Their evening was broken up by the site of a large antlerless deer sighting and raccoon visits. Allen finally realizing the pig thing just wasn't going to happen took a practice shot at about 20 yards and hit dead center of where he was aiming. Willie (of the Spring Hog Hunt) had nothing on him - except a pig. Oh well, it felt good and was encouraging and confidence building. As Allen often says, "I ain't always so dumb as I look, you know." Randy enjoyed just being out there amongst the opportunities, as always, and stayed in touch by radio with what friend Allen was up to. Too bad our two sites were too distant for radio contact because he would have had more excitement to vicariously take part in and he loves that almost as much as his own action. He had previously stated that his main objective on this trip was to get Eric a hog, me another chance (since it had been a while), and maybe get to see Allen take one with his recurve. It was definitely to be Eric's and my night to "shine".

Our evening of intense excitement started out interestingly but mundane enough with raccoon visits also. Eric's tree and mine were separated by one tree and about 8 or 10 yards at the most and we both were looking at the same large clearing but could see some different corners of it. It was a good set up and we were confident we had it covered, if we were given half a chance. The first visits by the raccoons came in singles until there were about three of them for us to watch. That also let us know our "stuff" was working and we must be sitting well and not stinking too awfully bad, or they would have detected us. No fools, those critters! They chose to leave after a while the same way they had come but returned later with buddies, just before the big action started. Eric and I were exchanging notes by both periodic radio contact and hand & mouth signals because we were so close. Our next visitor was heard by Eric but he couldn't see it due to the tree between us and my tree blocking the exact path it came in on from his vision. It was a decent sized pig and he was shuffling along so quickly that when I heard him and got my head turned to my right he was already only about 10 yards from my tree. No chance to get up but it didn't matter. He would have passed behind our trees by a scant yard, if he stayed on the same course but at that time he jolted to a halt and back-up a step or two. Like he had run into a brick wall with his flat snout. Then he turned and trotted hurriedly away on his own back trail. I don't know if he smelled where we had recently been at the base of our trees or what but something sure put the skids to his plan of the day. Eric mouthed, "What happened?" I grabbed the radio and gave him a quick recount of the hog's behavior. Our site was on a little higher ground than the other three and therefore much drier (dustier) so we couldn't tell how fresh (or not) the sign was. That pig's short visit gave us confidence in the site and Randy's and Allen's recommendation that it "mus be da place" for us to sit. Now if any others coming in would just stay away from the back side of our trees and whatever had turned him away. Eric had heard me try to snort him back in but while the porker audibly responded to me with a guttural snort or two he never faltered in his hasty retreat.

As I mentioned, the raccoons returned en force and there were about five of the bandits scattered around the clearing prior to sunset. After a bit, they began to act nervous and all of the sudden one ran full tilt to the tree between Eric and I. Without a break in stride he was up the tree and well above our perches. We kind of lost track of the wacky fellow then, as the others started slinking away from the clearing and we began picking up the sound of pigs coming from our right again. When a number of pigs come in like that, it kind of reminds you of a rowdy bunch of teenaged boys strutting through their "turf" while jostling each other, grumbling at collisions, and joking, pushing, and shoving. The main difference is the pigs are grunting, snorting, and squealing at times. As the raccoons left and the pigs came on, this time headed by in front of our trees, things got pretty hectic there for a while. Both of us scooped our bows up and stood up in ample time not to spook the critters. The "bully boys" were so interested in their "fun & games" and food searches that they paid no attention to us. As best as we can remember there were about six or seven feral hogs, all in about the 100 pound class. All but one or possibly two light colored ones were black. They kept shifting positions and jockeying for the best rooting spots. I found the first target across the clearing beyond Eric and let an arrow go at a lighter one. It turned out to be a good pass-through shot. The pig started a scenario that was to occur three times in that each time a target was hit, it would jump and run startling the others into the same action. Also each time, the others would circle outside the clearing and return almost immediately. Eric shot next, out in front of his tree, also at a light colored one. Another good hit and the same result. Pigs are notorious for running when hit and leaving sparse blood trails due to their hides, fat,  and dense bristles. In the meantime I had readied another arrow and my next shot followed Eric's closely and pretty much in the same area, a black one that Eric heard squeal loudly upon impact. This time only a couple returned and they were on my side but presenting a good shot only from Eric's angle. I watched (and breathed my customary, "Thank you, Lord," for sightings and harvests) while Eric took careful aim and placed a perfect neck shot on another black one. The neck shot is the best chance for preventing running off and/or at least providing a better blood trail. This time the pig dropped in his tracks with a single squeal. The other one left the area and the woods were quiet. We both sank to our sitting positions and waited with our own thoughts, trying to recall directions, distances, shots, etc. Each saying our own thanks and mending our own mental fences. Later, after a lot of trailing, I think Eric was pleasantly surprised (and grateful) to learn I could (and would help) drag a critter out. Of course we were hooked up in tandem and I think the big guy was probably still pulling 75% to my 25% but every little bit helps anyway. Those pig bristles love to grab the ground and hang on every time you stop or even hesitate and the snouts catch on every root, cypress knee and log. There would still be more trailing, etc. after Allen and Randy joined us at the shoreline just as we reached there with Eric's second pig.

I can say without reservation that I truly enjoyed every aspect of hunting with Eric as a partner. The hunt had been an awesome opportunity that may never be equaled for either of us. Please bear in mind that SC wants to diminish it's pig population, in the worst way. We had definitely done our part that evening.

The next (second) afternoon and evening both teams would have some sightings and action but nothing to compare with Eric's and my piggy party on the first eve. We swapped partners for the second day's activities. (We are a very enlightened and modern day group, don't you think. All right, who made that Smart Aleck-y remark?) I meant I would hunt with Allen, and Eric would hunt with Randy this time. Both teams would be going to new sites. Eric somehow got conned into taking my digital video camcorder along with them in order to try to catch some of Randy's action (if any) on film. He would place his climbing stand in the same tree as his partner's, only up above him. Actually Eric didn't take much conning. The idea of video taping seemed to appeal to him at the time, and besides he is just a nice, easy-going chap. Eric did get some footage of preparation in the tree stand (see pic on Gallery, Pg 5) but as it turned out the best opportunity came late in the evening when Randy got a shot at a large porker that came in. The hunters had been watching and taping a couple of nice bucks that hurriedly bugged out when the hog approached. Unfortunately, the hog moved at the last minute and the arrow struck right behind his "armpit". Now, on a deer that would be just what you wanted for a hit but on a pig, especially a large boar, you want that neck shot I mentioned. That was what randy had aimed for. The arrow could not penetrate the large boars thick hide plate (nature's protection from sharp tusks during their pecking order fights) and fell out after about 10 or so yards. The arrow point didn't even have any blood on it. Just a small kick in the slats to that old boar, hardly worth a glance. Even more unfortunately, while Eric was feverishly taping away, the light under the forest canopy was too dim for any worthwhile results. A real bummer in many ways, as it had been Eric's chance to redeem himself. Earlier two pigs had come in and put on quite a show for our heroes but they had remained just out of bow range. However Eric could easily reach them with the zoom lens of the camera. What a chance for a new camera operator. Just as the pigs left the scene, (Are you ready for this?) Eric saw in the viewfinder the evil word "Pause". Yep, he had forgotten to press the record button in his excitement over getting to tape some real action. The brave lad sheepishly informed Randy of the foul up. Randy at first thought his "cameraman" was bulling him - and then threatened to kick him out of the tree when he found he was telling it straight. When we had all joined up later and the tales had been told, Eric told me that from now on when he went hunting he wasn't taping, he was just going to hunt. Thinking it was because he felt bad about the lack of pictures, I tried to reassure him and told him that it was not a big problem. 

He looked at me with a lopsided grin and said, "I know, but somebody has got to kill these hogs." Yep, he fits in!

Allen and I had action all around us all evening. We were in trees just far enough apart that we couldn't see each other and had to stay in touch with radios. We both had a clearing of sorts to look at and they were bordered by various heights and thickness of swamp grasses, weeds, bushes, and trees. We watched and hopefully scanned groups of five to fifteen pigs from 5:45 PM on. Almost all the critters were small, even the young sows who pushed their litters of piglets this way and that, never seeming to let them stop much. The smaller pigs were almost as big as the sows were. All were black in color. We must have seen 25 - 30 pigs each all told, though some of the sightings were surly repeats. They all looked even more similar than usual on that hunt and were nervously running in and out and all around us all evening. Even a raccoon (both of us had one) that came in only to leave was extremely nervous. It must have been something about the night , as randy had reported nervous behavior in all the creatures they had seen also. Allen did finally think he picked out one pig a little larger than most of our visitors and got a shot off with his recurve bow. The size may have fooled him because he overestimated the distance and shot just over it's back, even though he'd been dead-on the night before. That caused more scurrying and scooting around with the usual squealing and snorting. I also got a shot at a little larger one who finally gave me the first decent neck shot I'd had all evening, even with all of that activity. When I triggered the release, my normally very quiet bow made the worst sound in any archers imagination. Even Allen heard and recognized it as a "ain't doin' right" sound from his tree. We conversed on the radio about it. At the sound I saw something colorful fall down in front of me. As the pigs scattered, unharmed, a quick look down showed the back six inches of my arrow lying on the ground straight below, the bright colored vanes winking at me. Later when we quit, Allen found the other part of the arrow just beyond where the pig had been. It would have been a perfect shot if not for the collapse of what we found out was a previously damaged arrow. Lesson learned: Because of their makeup and black coloring, carbon arrows M-U-S-T be checked over even more carefully than aluminum arrows. Especially so if the arrow happens to be one you've retrieved from a shoot through shot the night before, as mine had been. Wear your close-up glasses while you're doing it too, Dunn. Dummy! 

(Please take note: This was all verified from and by the vast knowledge and experience of David Camp upon my return to NC. He checked everything over very carefully and personally shot my bow under test conditions first to ascertain his opinion of nothing being wrong with the bow. His immediate response upon my relating the tale over the phone was, "Well, Bernie, bring it in with you and we'll check it all out first but it sounds like a bad arrow to me." A fine hairline crack, barely discernable with the naked eye, can cause a carbon arrow to burst or collapse under the pressure of the powerfully forward driving bowstring. You must check them visibly but also you should take them in both hands (between thumbs and first couple of fingers) and try to twist them. Do this at various points all the way up the shaft. Any crack should "give" a little  and/or become visible. Then check very close at both ends of the shaft and in between the vanes for tiny cracks or ruptures. Any, I repeat, any doubt should be resolved with a discarded arrow - never mind the price. Not only can a damaged arrow cause a missed animal (or target, in a 3D shoot) but also there is a very real possibility of harm to the shooter's hands, arms, or worse yet, eyes. Dave said I could count myself damned lucky I hadn't been injured, and perhaps badly so. These same instructions apply for any collision of an arrow with or by other arrows or objects, especially side or glancing impacts, in any kind of shooting one does; be it while hunting, 3D shooting, or other forms of practice.)

There was one more sighting to cap it all off. No more pigs came out at either Allen's or my trees after the ear punishing, nerve splitting noise my bow had made until just as darkness had us ready to quit. I heard something coming slow from my rear, left. It was kind of paralleling the trail we had used coming in. "Too big for a raccoon, not enough ruckus for those jostling pigs, perhaps a deer," I thought. Then I realized it sounded like that first pig visit the night before, short legs hurrying on a mission. I placed my hand on the side of my stand and turned my head just as a very large pig broke out of the woods line not 8 yards from the base of my tree. There was enough light to see his size and that, while he was black, he had two rather small white spots on top of his his shoulders. It also was light enough for that perfect downward neck shot, in the back of the neck, just in front of those spots and out the throat - but it was not to be. Again like the lone pig of the night before, he took two back steps, wheeled, and melted into the woods behind him. I glanced down at the base of my tree as if to scold whatever  had spooked the big critter. There on the ground was my sweat soaked, short visor-ed bow shooter's hat. It had been lying on the bottom section of my stand because of the heat and had either been kicked off earlier or perhaps even just then, as I shuffled my feet to turn and view him. Also like the previous eve's pig, I tried to snort him back and he too acknowledged my snorts with a few grunts but kept right on flogging it away from there. Would I have taken the shot? You bet I would have! Even though it probably wouldn't have been too smart since I wasn't sure (at that time) what had happened on that previous shot. It would have been all right, as it turned out, but to be honest - it didn't even enter my mind at the sight of that large hog. In any event it was all over and I, like the rest of my buddies, had now just barely missed a chance at my first really good sized hog. What a great hunt! Thanks for all the pre-hunt work, Randy and Allen - you too Eric. Later, Guys.

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Entry, June 10, 2002

June 9th 3D Shoot

[This little archery sign is one Lee and his daughter adopted for use on the Hubert Archers Website. I felt like it was appropriate to "lift" it and use it to sort of point out news on my website that deals with the club. After all, bowman are supposed to be able to recognize a target in a heartbeat, so they will have no trouble finding these bits. I tried to backtrack and insert one of the symbols on items that fit the category. By the way there is a little trouble with the clubs website as far as the quantity of material and pics allowed to be uploaded during given time periods (or something like that) but it still looks great. Lee says the club may have to get a new Host site for it - if so I'll update the link above. Lee is the designer and director of the site and his daughter is the site builder and takes care of the nuts and bolts for Lee.] Note: Web site for Hubert Archers is now defunct.

Just a short mention of the Hubert Archers most recent shoot. The old man fell backwards a little bit (to 164 out of 240) even though my practice lately has been staying in the range of 175 - 187 (my highest so far). Just one of those days when my arms seemed to be too tired to hold my bow up. My range estimation was improved considerably and my bow was performing beautifully but right at the end of most shots my bow arm would waver or drop. No misses (Whew!) but too darned many fives and only one or two 12s. I wasn't alone though, as quite a few people didn't shoot up snug to their normal levels. In Outlaw (my) class Bill took first with a 198. Even he lamented about two fives he had thrown away - most unusual for him. Bobby took second but his 183 was well below his habit of breaking 200. Robert F. reeled in third with a 181. Overall The club did pretty good with over 40 plus registered shooters. It was a perfect day and a most enjoyable shoot. I shot with John of Cherry Point Archers (same as last shoot). He placed in the Bow Hunter Class. Joining us in the round were two other Hubert Archers club members, Tommy of the Traditional class and his friend Mike in Bow Hunters class, I think. Tommy almost always places but was not up to snuff either, as he was wielding a different bow - his regular old standby being in the hospital for a new string. Mike was having a day kind of like me only because of a moving nock point we later found out. It was a day for saying, "Sh --tuff happens!" We still all enjoyed it and each others company - archery and 3D shooting is F-U-N! 

A couple of our people could not be present due to recent deaths in their families. Our hearts and prayers go out to both of them and their families

Lee, our Sec/Treas. and normally the "Duty Picture Taker" was among those not present and I don't know if anyone else thought to bring a camera or not so there may be a negative number for quantity of  pictures from this shoot. Yep, that's less than zero, sport fans. I do hope to get some further info on Win, Place, and Show in other classes (I was working in the shop when the Awards Ceremony was held) which I will add in here when I do.

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Entry, June 16, 2002

Open Father's Day Card To Pop

This morning, the 14th, I got messages from no less than three internet greeting card providers, those wonderful web sites that provide folks like me the chance to send beautiful (and funny) cards all over the world - for free. They were inviting me, and reminding me also to send a Father's Day greeting to my father before Sunday came and went. That's a nice service too, especially for people as forgetful as I tend to be. However, for some unbidden reason though these messages only served to remind me that I have no father anymore. No, and I haven't had one for a long time now.  You see my Pop died back in the mid sixties, if a poor memory serves me right. He died after suffering a painful, terrible heart seizure - the last of three that we knew of over a number of years. This particular one though was so fierce that it scared a normally unshakable man. So badly in fact, he was moved to tell my Brother that if he ever had to go through one like that again, he would rather not live. The doctors gave Pop three days to recover, or succumb. He died near the end of the last day. One of the many bad things, or perhaps good things regarding his passing was that it occurred just after my family and I had been transferred to Hawaii and for many reasons it seemed impractical for me to return. My family understood, thank God, and I think Pop did too - but I've always missed him worse for it. Perhaps that is what this is all about.

Pop was a strong Irishman with some American Indian in him. I (we) always felt he was more of the Indian than the Irishman. The kind of fine Indian we all wanted to believe Jay ("Tonto") Silverheels  must surly be. Pop's hands were incredibly strong and so was his sense of right and wrong. His heart too was strong and true, at least in the ways that counted to make life right for him and his family, even in hard times. He was quiet and reserved in his strength and emotions at all times except perhaps when his chronic problems with sinus disorders plagued him. It was typical of both "The Indian" and "The New Englander" that he was. I sometimes used to think God must of patterned the Indian Head rock formation (in the white Mountains of NH close to the more famous Old Man of The Mountains) after my Pop, or maybe vice versa. All of this to say he was strong, gentle, and pretty much self controlled.

I couldn't stop my thoughts this morning from turning to how Pop would have reacted to all of the terrible wastes of life that have happened in this world, especially in the past year. I didn't have to wonder about it though, as this old memory came flooding back in and I had to write about it:

 I must have been about twelve and for some unusual reason Pop and I were both eating our breakfast at the same time in the old kitchen of the Glendale, NH house. I always had been prone to preparing my own breakfasts of pretty much whatever I wanted, from a very young age. So I was probably eating French toast, pancakes, or at least eggs and meat that I had "fixed" and planning my day of boyhood things. Pop was, as always, eating his two Shredded Wheat (cereal) biscuits that he always took to the sink in his cereal bowl, ran hot water over, and then poured it off before replacing it with cold milk. He was a man of very precise habits. My sister, Vivian was either already at work or upstairs preparing for it and my brother, Durwood was away, serving his first year in the Navy. Ma was in the large well-lit dinning  room, presumably knitting or crocheting in the old rocker near the window. She spoke loud enough to be heard but in her voice reserved for grownups, so I heard but didn't pay much heed.

"You know it is Durwood's Birthday, Vernard." She then added, matter-of-factly, "It'll be his first away from home." Nothing more was said and the silence seemed strange and heavy even to my young, preoccupied mind.

 I looked up from my meal to see if Pop gave any sign of having heard. Was I maybe supposed to say something? To my relief I saw what I took to be a drop of milk or water on Pop's cheek. My young and foolish mind saw only a chance to lighten the prevailing air and with a short laugh, I said, 

"What are you crying about?"

I'll never forget the pain on his face and in my heart as his strong mouth slowly turned downward at both corners. I watched in shock and self-recrimination as his lower lip trembled uncontrollably. He only shook his head, wiped the tear with a work-worn finger, and left the table to rinse his unfinished cereal out of his bowl at the sink. I knew for the first time, in a flash but too late - my Pop was "strong" enough to shed a tear. In this case for a right of passage and an absent son. I mumbled an apology of some inadequate kind and also vacated my breakfast and appetite. I didn't really know if pop ever heard my apology or knew that I had understood. 

Ma asked me what had happened when Pop went outside. After I told her of the incident and my fears, she said simply, "He knows."

I didn't have to wonder, as I mentioned at the beginning, because I know how my Pop would have reacted to the tragedies. He would have cried aloud, unashamedly, just as I did. Just as my strong father had taught me that it was all right for a man to do, when the situation warranted it. So this is my Father's Day greeting to you, Pop, from your youngest son. The weaker one, physically  that you taught to be strong enough to cry - for you and for all the other fathers who miss their absent sons, and all the sons who miss their absent fathers. God keep us all - strong.

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Entry, June 16b, 2002

Do You Remember "Superman" Chad? 

If you don't or are not sure, go back to Journal, Pg2 Article "Mattamuskeet 2 Thou " and Gallery, Pg3 Sixth Row  to refresh your memory about this fine hunt buddy and more - former Marine, now Army  hard-charger that we met at Mattamuskeet.  Perhaps more to the point of this article though, are we still remembering all of the "Superman" Chads and their families? Incidental to my sending out notices regarding my previous entry, I received a message from Chad's wife and the following exchanges took place.

Victoria Carpenter wrote:

I know how much you think of my husband; I was informed Wed. nite he was on the plane which
crashed in Afghanistan along w/ 2 of his team mates. As you are probably aware, Pete Tycz was
killed. Amazingly, Chad escaped w/o much harm and acted heroically to aid others. Pete leaves
behind a wonderful, strong wife and 5 beautiful daughters (ages 1- 10). The pilot and Team Cpt. are
in a hospital in Germany but will be OK with time.
Chad and his team are beginning their journey home today, I ask for your prayers for a safe return. 
They will bury their team mate, spend time with family, refit (lost most of their gear), pick up a few
new guys and head back. 
My son, Patrick, whom you met on the hunt is headed for the Air Force Academy Summer Seminar
tomorrow. He will graduate from high school next year and hopes to receive an appointment and
begin his journey towards "wings".
Will keep you posted. I'm sure Chad would love to read a few words of wisdom from an old grunt
like you.
Victoria

Bernie Dunn wrote:

Bless your heart for posting me on this incident. When we are removed
from the fray we tend to forget how "close" it can become at a moment's
notice. My prayers go out to Pete Tycz family and all of you who had it
brought home in such a scary way. It is an old quote but always so
true, "They also serve who sit and wait," (or close to that). It is so
hard on our military wives and children. With your permission, Victoria,
I think I would like to use your message just as you wrote it on my web
page as a part of keeping my readers posted about my "buddies" and also
keep them aware in general of how "life-strings" all tie in together. We
are all so much closer than we realize in so many ways. Chad's
performance under stress doesn't surprise me in the least. I know he and
any team he sets the example for (leads) can do no less than an
exemplary job, without even giving it conscious thought. God be with you
all. Semper Fi in the Army too!
So glad to hear Patrick is striking out to make his move. You go, young
man. You showed us you came from good stock and have had good influences
on top of that. All that will stand you in good stead when things get
rough, as they are bound to do.

Victoria Carpenter wrote:

Please share my words with your readers. I want all Americans to be
reminded of the daily sacrifices by soldiers and families in the name of
Freedom. As we sit and watched news last week consumed w/ sex Scandals and
budget debates, soldiers across the world are at war, without mention on
the 11 O'Clock news. "General America" has become oblivious to the war we
have engaged. 
The Team should be on US soil Sunday evening and in our arms by Monday. 
Wives have spent the weekend taking care of the Tycz family and working
through their own & their children's emotions. We have spent the weekend
cleaning house, planning the homecoming and getting their husband's Dress
Greens/boots/berets ready. This is our contribution, you are right.
Pete Tycz sacrificed this Father's Day serving our country as many have
before and will again. 
Thousands of children will celebrate Father's Day tomorrow w/ pride.
Although their Daddy isn't home to open handmade gifts or eat those
interesting breakfast-in-bed meals they made, THEIR Daddy is serving our
country and defending our Freedom - is their anything better to celebrate?

Bernie Dunn wrote:

Thank you for your permission. Even more, thank you (both a personal and a
collective "you" to encompass all military and their families) for your past,
present, and doubtless future sacrifices, from this one ever-grateful ol'
leatherneck. Oh - and welcome home, Chad - Outstanding, job well done!.
Later - B

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - --

Please, I implore you to find some way, however small, to make sure we are supporting our Armed Forces personnel and their families - write a letter, say a prayer. Try to do so daily and don't become complacent and forget, as they are doing their parts daily.

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Entry, June 30, 2002

Last of 2001-2002 Season?

Allen (of SC) and Randy got a chance to go out to the SC swamps for a last of the season hunt on Sat. the 29th. We refer to it as the last of the 2001-2002 season, as they hold licenses that expire the end of June. My license is still good until the end of July but with the way my work schedule has shaped up for the summer, that looks like a rather moot point. For all practical purposes we can call a "cease fire" to this season and get licenses for (and start) the 2002-2003 season. The best of it is that Randy and Allen finished it off on a high note for us by taking a couple more hogs off the SC rolls, after an evening of pretty darned good action.

The water is pretty low and the swamps a little drier but after some judicious boat maneuvering with Allen's newly regenerated boat (on its "shakedown hunt") they arrived at the site Eric and Randy had seen large hogs at on the last evening of our previous hunt. Oh yes, it also entailed some extra hot, sweaty trudging, as they had to stop the boat about  a hundred or so yards further away than even the usual distance. I know Allen enjoyed getting his boat back on the water but I'll bet both of our boys were saying, "Wot am Ah doin' heuh?" by the time they got to their stand sites. They chose trees about seven or eight feet apart to set the stage for their previously agreed upon plan. They would pass on any early arriving pigs that were not biggies, hoping to see some of the type Randy and Eric had spotted before. When and if they did see big ones, or it got late enough to take lesser ones, they would see each other draw their bows and Randy would fire when he heard the sound of Allen's slower recurve bow. Hopefully that way, assuming there was more than one target, they would both get an equally good chance at a decent shot. A reasonable plan for archers/hunters of their calibers and one we have tried to use many variations on amongst our group from time to time. I must also say it doesn't always meet with the desired results, as Mother Nature and human nature have a way of tangling things up now and then. This time everybody seemed to be playing on the same team though, pretty much.

Our friends hadn't been in their trees too very long before the pigs started "serenading" them from numerous different directions. Music to a hog hunter's ears - the cacophony of scurrying hoofs in the leaves, grasses, and brush, coupled with the snorts, grunts, and squeals of the "jostling teenagers" as mentioned before in these journals. It seemed like they had pigs all around them in different groups but all staying well beyond their sight for the time being. Still it quickens the heart and peaks the interest and attention. Also leaving little time to get bored or lulled by the comparative quiet of other, more usual evening woodland and swamp sounds. This sweet anguish continued for about two hours with the only sighting being one apparently errant hog of about 100-150 lbs. coming from their rear and just passing through to join the partying groups beyond. You know, like the Mad Hatter, "I'm late, I'm late - for a very important date." Allen did have one chance at a shot on the joiner but true to their original plan, he passed on it while they watched the critter's strange commute in amused silence. Why cause a commotion that might keep all the other, perhaps bigger hogs away? Besides he had already loosed his usual "test arrow" at a small target earlier, as is his habit.

Finally just before light was beginning to abandon our hunters, the action picked up in the way they had been itching for. Six or seven pigs started moving unerringly for their vantage points. They seemed to be making more noise with their grunting and squealing than Randy had ever heard from any group in the past. Bringing up the rear was one really good hog, guesstimated at about 250 lbs. He appeared to be chasing the others around as if one of them were perhaps a sow in heat. Things were going so well! The Ranman and Allen gave each other the high sign. They were ready! Big ol' timer hog was coming in good. Whoops! Change of plans. When the big guy got to Allen's previously flung arrow he immediately bolted "outta" there, taking one or two lesser pigs with him like they were drafting on him. We gotta get Allen to stop shooting those test arrows around (when he doesn't really need them anyway). Either that or tie a string to them so he can pull them back up, or perhaps douse them in critter "stuff" that'll fool the more cautious old timers. He could even tie a freshly roasted ear of corn on the cob to his test shafts, hmmm, that should keep any self respecting pig in the area.

After waiting a reasonable time to see if "Big" (or others like him) would come back our guys shrugged at each other. By signals they mutually decided it was time to pick the best of the lesser targets. After drawing on their respective choices (140 lb. one for Allen and 130 lbs. for Randy's), Randy awaited the muted sound of Allen's bow, releasing his own on that cue. Both hunters shot for the vitals and achieved good hits. Allen's was a broadside shot and Randy's was a little more than quartering away - no neck shots available on this evening, boys. Randy was using a string tracker as he likes to do when hunting hogs. Both pigs took off in the same direction, made a large loop, and then left the area by passing back under the hunter's stands.  There was plenty of time to observe their actions - not the norm. Randy's arrow appeared to be almost a spine shot and both pigs were obviously weak. Randy and Allen discussed the shots and their observations while they watched the speed of the paying out string from Randy's tracker decrease to indicate a walking pig. However there was no stop prior to the end of the string leaving the tracker. As Randy put it, "He walked about 200 yards of string right off the tracker." Yep, they also watched as the end of the string disappeared from sight. That is always a sinking feeling, (been there, done that with a bear in Maine). Even so though they shared the opinion that the pig would surly drop soon. You never know! Allen's pig had dropped after only fifty yards and he had his first pig with a recurve bow. Randy's pig was Walkin' To New Orleans ("Nawr-lins"), without accompanying music -  thank you anyway, Fats Domino.

Allen returned to the boat for more flashlights - it looked like they would be needing them. Meanwhile Randy went in search for the end of his string. He found it a couple hundred yards out and followed it to where his arrow had pulled out of the pig. About that time Allen hollered to locate him, so he could join him without having to track him to that point . After they joined forces they had to track the pig a couple hundred yards or so more. All part of the fun - it says so right here in fine print. After dragging their well deserved harvests out to the boat, the long cooling ride back, and resultant cleaning chores afterwards our friends hit their homes about 1:30 AM - dead tired but satisfied - for now. Randy wound it up with, "Wished you were there. It was as awesome as they ever are!!! One of the best..."

I wish I'd been there too, guys. You did good!

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Entry, July 04, 2002

"Geocatching Sparky"

This is a story about our friend "Sparky". I've mentioned Sparky previously in these journals. He lets us hunt his farm in the next county over and always makes us feel at home there. He also dabbles on the computer and, as a spin-off of that, this is how he recently appeared in a local newspaper. We saw a copy of it on the rack when we went into a restaurant in that area. Yep, There was Sparky right smack on the front page of the New Bern Sun Journal. When we first saw it we both had the same type of thoughts, "Oh-oh, they've caught "Sparky" robbing a bank - again." Just kidding! When we saw  the paper/article the germ of doing a bit for this site about our friend and generous hunt benefactor was born in my feeble brain. It is a good way to point up one of his passions (he is not into hunting, though he used to fish a goodly amount), Geocaching. The relatively  new "game" or "sport" is also a very interesting subject in it's own right, as explained in the article, and may "Geocache" some of you folks' fancy. Also July Fourth is a very good time to mention Sparky as he is a patriot of the first order and never misses a chance to fly a flag or support the military in word and deed. You keep the sparks flying, buddy!

The Sun Journal article follows in the best form that I could copy it (the names have been changed and pictures omitted to protect the innocent - as if I ever knew anybody who is innocent):

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New Bern, North Carolina

High-tech game of hide-and-seek

Geocaching alive and well in Jones County

By Penny Round, Sun Journal Staff                               

Trenton - Geocaching, a 21st century game that was technologically impossible until two years ago, is alive and well in Jones county, where ("Sparky") stashed the county's first two caches.

A high-tech take on the simple game of hide-and-seek, geocaching requires the use of a hand-held GPS device that relies on signals from Global Positioning System satellites to pinpoint latitude and longitude. Armed with the electronic navigational devices, which cost around $150, players set out to locate hidden caches, which are listed on a web site, along with descriptions, maps, clues and reports from other geocachers.

 "A friend was telling me about the concept in December," said ("Sparky"),  who, coincidentally, had just gotten a new GPS. "I went and looked on the Web site and took it from there. I decided that since Jones County didn't have any listed, we needed some."

On Jan. 3, he created Jones County's first geocache, a plastic drybox, filled with small items, such as a packet of flower seeds, a baseball cap, a pair of work gloves, and a tire gauge, along with a logbook and pencil. He aptly named the cache  "Jones County's First," registered it at www.geocaching.com and waited for others to find it and post to the web site.

Two weeks later, he had his first hit. A group calling themselves "Team D.E.C.K." logged their find. They reported taking the seed packet and leaving a box of crayons.

So far, 15 geocachers have found Jones County's First, among them several first-timers - including a reporter, a couple from Oregon and someone who uses the name Geo13 , who has located an impressive293 caches.

The first group to find the cache took the flower seeds and left a box of crayons. The second geocacher took nothing and left nothing. Next came a family, who took the crayons and left American flag patches.

Other items that have passed in and out of Jones County's First include a magnifying glass, a dollar bill, collectible foreign coins, keyrings and more.

Some of the geocachers even dropped by ("Sparky's") business for a visit.

"It's been all kinds of people. There were some from Maryland, some college-age people, some service people. One of the first was a family who set up some caches in Carteret County. Then we had a retired couple in their 60s. They had just gotten a GPS," ("Sparky") said.

In addition to the two caches he placed, ("Sparky") found one on a trip to North Carolina's mountains. "A friend and I went to the mountains to pick up some stone for his chimney," he said. "I had the GPS and saw we were close to one, then I said, 'It's right there!' We stopped and went looking for it."

This cache was in much tougher terrain than the two in Jones County. Finding it involved scrambling down a slope, crossing a creek, crawling into a cave and, for ("Sparky"), at least, slipping on a rock and ending up in a frigid mountain stream in the middle of February.

The misadventure did little to dampen his enthusiasm for geocaching, though.

"It's a great sport," he said. "It's good, clean fun and we get to take advantage of the billions of dollars the government's spent on the Global Positioning System."

At geocaching.com, each cache is rated on difficulty of terrain and how hard it is to locate the cache once you get to the right spot. Some, like the ones ("Sparky") stashed in Jones County, are easy to get to in a car. Others require climbing equipment, scuba gear or kayaks.

"My wife and I went looking for one over around Cape Carteret. It's called the Patsy Pond Offset," ("Sparky") said. "We traipsed around for a while, but didn't find it. I like it for the high-tech aspect. My wife likes walking around in the woods."

Although work keeps him too busy to spend much time hunting for caches, ("Sparky") said he's getting ready to set another one out. "It'll be real soon," he said, "and it'll be in New Bern." 

Penny Round can be reached at (252) 638-8101, ext. 261 or at <pround@link.freedom.com>

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Note: The Global Positioning System is, in my humble view, a highly worthwhile endeavor and was developed as a location aid for military, police, rescue teams, ships at sea, NASA too I think, and any other number of uses in both war and peace. It functions (very well) to keep folks from getting lost or locating those who do. The longer it is in effect, the more applications folks find for it. Hunters, hikers, fishermen, campers, and other outdoor folks have adapted the hand-held marvels to their uses quickly. Geocaching adds one more great way for more folks to take advantage of the technology.

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Entry, July 08, 2002

Last & First Shoot

Yes, it was the Last of our Hubert Archers club sponsored shoots for this 3D competition season, within our coalition. It also was my personal First so-called Point Shoot and proved rather interesting. A little background is in order. Each club (seven in all) in the coalition must sponsor one Point Shoot out of their five sanctioned shoots sponsored that make up a season. Point Shoots are used to garner aggregate scores for shooters to compete in overall annual season awards. A shooter must compete in at least 4 point shoots to be eligible and if they make all seven, the lowest score is dropped. That being said, the point shoots are a little more controlled than other shoots, so far as the score keeping and progression through the course is concerned. Two score cards are filled out by shooters instead of one and  Shoot Officials draw teams and a Team Captain or Leader from those cards. Then a target lane number is assigned to each team. The team leaders proceed to their assigned target lane with their teams, two scorekeepers are appointed in each team and the cards turned over to them. After enough time has elapsed for this action to take place a "Shotgun Start" is employed - the Tournament Director fires a shotgun so all teams, now on their assigned targets, hear and commence shooting at the same time. At our location however, since there is a fully operating gun range on site, the sound of a gun would tend to be a little redundant and ambiguous, so a boater's safety type air horn was used. Upon hearing the "chosen" signal, the teams then progress around the course until they reach the target lane that precedes the one they started out on, thus competing the 20 target course. Ideally all teams finish at reasonably close to the same time - and it seemed to me it works pretty well. Upon turning in score sheets, all shooters are required to shoot one arrow through a chronograph to ascertain proper/legitimate arrow speed for the class they have registered in. Also from what I saw yesterday, officials while endeavoring to put different people shooting together than might be the shooters' normal choices, they do strive to keep family units together for parental guidance and control. OK, instructional, informative period now ends, exit stage right.

Let me say at the outset that once more I did not do as well as I had hoped to. My practice sessions have indicated much better capabilities (even breaking the coveted 200 total a couple times) but it was not to be on this day. I totaled out at 176 with two, count them, two of my nemesis fives. Ranging again plagued me some but I think more this time I had a little nerves thing  going on there too perhaps. I still came out fourth in my class and if I hadn't talked my friend Marty into shooting (he had planned not to shoot and only came out to help - Outlaw class is not eligible for annual awards, yet, so point shoots don't count in that respect), I would have placed third. You guessed it, Marty not only decided to shoot but came out in first place. He was followed by Lee in second , and Bobby third. Lee and Bobby were real thrilled that I'd goaded Marty into shooting also, thus robbing them out of first and second places. I caught a lot of grief about that after the shoot from those two stalwarts, I'll tell you. Naw, it was just friendly chiding. We all know Marty deserves all of his Firsts and should shoot anytime his work schedule as a butcher allows it - he raises the bar for all of us - both in and out of that class. He is an exceptional shooter, a well-liked good Joe, and never a braggart nor poor looser or, perhaps more importantly never a poor winner. It's hard to fault a good example archer like him - dog gone it. I have to admit Lee and Bobby fall into that category too - and they didn't shoot lousy fives. By the way, there are a lot of archers who are that way and particularly in our club, it seems. When I reflect, I honestly have to remember that only a few scant months ago I would have been tickled with a 176 (out of 240) and that I have learned and improved a goodly amount over the summer of tournaments and practice 3D sessions for them. Our Traditional shooters did well also - I think it was Buzz, Tommy, and Buzz' son Nick in the top three slots. Jimbo placed second in the Unlimited Class and Matt went to an unchallenged first in Incentive Class.

Now to the real interesting part of this particular shoot. It came in the rather small form of an eight year old Pee Wee class shooter. Jeremiah was the son of the family group whose team I was assigned too and he made the shoot even more enjoyable than one could easily imagine. It turned out to be a very lucky draw of the cards for me. While his dad was getting ready for the starting signal, the youngster made one of those Donald Duck sounds. Not a quack, but like the way Donald talked. Kidding-ly, and to let him know I understood, I said, "OK, Donald, I heard that remark." The family laughed and I told them how I had a friend that could do that when I was a kid but that every time I tried all I could manage was to spit all over myself. It broke any remaining ice, I suspect. I think perhaps it may be a tension release of sorts for this young shooter ( he's pretty darned good at it too). His dad, David, and mom, Karen, rounded out the  Harrell family group. What a pleasant experience shooting with this fine family from upstate. Karen doesn't actually shoot in competitions but would serve as a score keeper, as would I. It was their first shoot at our site due to the distance involved (about a three hour drive) and having to forgo Church functions for the entire day in order to attend. They admitted they were there primarily for the youngster to compete in the Point Shoot. (Oh, you don't say?) Yep, indeed I discovered this young shooter had taken the annual First in his class the previous year (when he was seven) and is certainly more than likely to this year also from my observations. ( Later entry: He did take it this year also) OK, so Pee Wee shooters shoot from the closest pin/peg to the target, with an official maximum distance of only five yards. You think that's a snap? Try it, even as an adult, and see how high a score you get - I wonder? Concentration is the big factor here and all it takes is loosing it for a moment to be out of the higher scoring rings. Of course, form, sight alignment, release and follow through all still fall under that blanket of concentration just as they do from any yardage, in any class - trust me. On top of all that, try it while being a competitor who is a personable, pleasant, exceptionally well-behaved, and reasonably humble young person in front of your folks and complete strangers. Got the picture? Not what you'd call a lead-pipe cinch, by any stretch of the imagination. Jeremiah carried it all off with ease and grace and a sense of humor well beyond his years, while amassing a highly impressive score of 218 out of 240, to put him in first in Pee Wee Class. The boy didn't shoot anything but 10s and 12s. I even threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't stop making his dad and I look so bad - and that didn't faze him either. His only comment even remotely approaching any sign of being impressed with himself was, "Gee, Mom, I only got 9 twelves - I usually get 10." Well, he did also say that he had about 14 (I think it was) trophies, come to think about it. However when I asked if he would consider giving one of them to me so I could at least pretend I had one, he only smiled with a boyish grin that showed he could understand and appreciate a good "funny". Talk about raising the bar - he is another archer who does that and will probably continue to do it for many years to come. Archery is so good, and such fun, for young people to get involved in. Really good training and character building, especially when guided by parents (or others) who obviously set the example in all of the qualities mentioned here. First of all I never saw any show of temper (or temperament) in Jeremiah nor in his parents. They were helpful, informative, and supportive while being friendly, though firm and having a pleasant family outing. Mind you, his father was doing all this while not having a particularly good day with his own shooting, though I am convinced he normally does much better. It was evident that they truly believe in treating not only other adults but also their own child as they would prefer to be treated. Could this be The Golden Rule in practice? I think probably so. It was my distinct pleasure to have met you and shot with you, Harrells,  all three of you. Do visit us again when possible and good luck in your life and shooting.

There will be a special shoot and meeting next Sunday but it is strictly a club shoot for members only. It will serve to wind down the end of our season of sponsored shoots - a successful first season for Hubert Archers. It appears they plan to have considerably less classes (there are less shooters), so less awards. As one member/founder put it, "...a sort of collective pat on our backs for a job well done." Included will be a cook-out and a club meeting to consider changes and officers for the coming year. It doesn't look like there will be many changes in officers - like I said, "...if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Matt, our VP is leaving for Naval duties in Guam very shortly, so he will have to be replaced. Anyway I will keep this entry open to add news of that meeting and "fun shoot", I think. 'Til then.

In-between Note:

On Gallery, Pg5; Row Five, picture 6) I showed a turkey taken by Bill Franze and mentioned his meeting with my waitress daughter. I spoke of the subsequent and resulting meeting that we intended to have when we could get to it. Well that meeting finally took place and a pleasant one it was too. I think (know) we were both a little hesitant to meet on the basis of someone else saying we would get on with each other - even if it was Lois saying that - so it took awhile. We were looking for neutral ground with easy escape routes, just in case ... you know? Bill had already suggested meeting for coffee and a sit down which was a good, safe start but still ---. We could wind up sitting there with our bare faces hanging out and without much to say to each other after, "Hi," and "Watch the coffee, it's real hot." Who wants awkward situations? Well we shouldn't have waited so long - Lois was right. Heck, how could she miss, what with "hunting" and experiences in "Maine" as key indicators? It dawned on me if we set it up to meet for coffee and a biscuit (that gave us one more thing to comment on) and the offer to join me on my usual Wednesday (practice) 3D shoot at Flatwoods afterwards, it would provide the desired escape route by using some simple excuse; i.e., "I can't go this AM after all, my toilet backed up and I must return home to unstop it," or, "My neighbor's cat has my pet Condor treed and it won't come down." Well, you get the idea.

It turned out none of the above good excuses were needed. As I turned the corner to head to the local fast food emporium, the designated neutral ground, a vehicle turned the opposite corner to head the same way. In a rather unusual alert moment I noticed both Maine and Patriotic stickers on the back of the SUV and realized this must be my guy. I followed him into the parking lot and as we dismounted our trusty steeds, he commented that he recognized me from my pics on the website, after I mentioned his stickers. Almost by the time we got to the swinging doors we had established easy rapport and put the retaining loops back over the hammers of our still-holstered six-shooters - we wouldn't have to have a shootout and kill each other right there on the spot after all - but I digress.

It only got better from there on out and I think you'll be hearing more about Bill Franze in the future. It was his first experience with 3D shooting and he loved it - hooked for life. He enjoyed Flatwoods as a whole and meeting some of our resident characters there, seeing the different venues, and talking "bow" with David Camp, who fixed a couple of little glitches on Bill's Mathews Bow (the guy can't be all bad, he has a Mathews) with ease, speed, and aplomb. Most of all he enjoyed the shoot, my brilliant, tap-dance-fast repartee (hah!) and the intro to the new sport. He also is an "old geezer" (even older!) who took up bow shooting late in life and was looking for a viable way to practice. I must admit he did better than I did on my first 3D tournament - shot a 147 on his first ever attempt at 3D. You say you only beat him by 39 points, Bernie? Oh, shut up! Anyway you get the picture - we both really enjoyed the shoot and the company. He told me if I did anything he didn't like that he would come right out and tell me. I told him there was no problem there because I never did anything people didn't like (choke-choke). I almost caused him to miss a target by zipping that one in there at just the right moment. I also told him I wasn't even shooting good (though I did better than Sunday) and that served to ruin his concentration on the last four targets of the course. Hey, you gotta go with what you got - and he was gaining on me fast. I think it is safe to say he will be joining the range so he can shoot anytime, and also our Hubert Archers club. Welcome aboard, Bill and thank you, Lois. You can never have too many good friends - especially when they prove "Hunters Are People Too".

Oh, I didn't tell Bill  (didn't want to shock him) but for my relatives and others who have seen the pictures in the Gallery, he looks enough like my brother-in-law, Larry to be a brother to him. Even acts a little like him - but not quite as crazy as Larry (who is?). His same size, shape, chin, and eyes (twinkle and all). Like Larry, he may just be a keeper. I think he'll join us for the Club get-together Sunday and we are already talking possible future hunts. I wouldn't be surprised if he and Randy and other hunting buddies will be able to insult each other in a friendly manner also, should they come in contact. Hold on to your hat, Bill, it may be a bumpy ride. Us old guys gotta look after each other. We also both agree that it isn't the best idea to be out in the woods alone, especially as the years add up on one.

Club Fun Shoot

It was that, in spite of the rain which held us up some and changed our schedule a little. We held the meeting before shooting while the rain was still pelting. We were lucky at that because after the meeting the rain stopped and we only got a couple sprinkles while we shot. On the other side of possibilities, when I got home Rose told me it had been hard rain spurts all day there - thank you, Lord. We did vote Dave in to replace Mat (rest of the slate staying as is) and sent Mat off with a very nice verbal accolade from Jim (for the club & personal) and a trophy for his help and work in getting the club off the ground and running. He'll be missed but he has promised to keep in touch with us through this site and e-mails. We also voted to hold/sponsor "one more shoot" this year (on December 15) for the benefit of U S Marine Reserves' Toys For Tots Drive. Entry fee will be a $5.00 toy and prizes will be a meat such as hams or turkeys, etc. That'll be a good thing to do. 

The food after the shoot was awesome with special game dishes from Lee (a former Mess Sgt. but more of a chef) and from Robert Farrabee's missus. Good venison and rabbit type dishes.

The shoot itself? I don't want to talk about it! Of course I will though. I was hoping to make an improved showing but I didn't do as well as I'd hoped - again. It was hot, muggy, and steamy. My nose ran incessantly and my glasses fogged over and over. In spite of all that I can honestly say the only thing that gave me any bad shots was my own poor range estimations. I was off worse today then I've been right lately and it garnered me only a 164. Foo on me. I will say that most all the shooters had the same afflictions (or others of their own) as all were shooting lower than usual it seemed, though there were still some good scores even at that. Best of all though is it was great fun for all. Even for Dave, in spite of the fact that Mike had egged us on to putting two of Dave's personal enemies, woodchuck 3Ds, out among the 20 targets. He had vowed they were banished from his range for life so when he came to the first one he was aghast. Then Mike talked him into going double or nothing (on personal wins between them) on the last target - before getting to it. You can imagine his state of mind when he saw the 2nd hated woodchuck. We have to give Dave credit though, not only did he hit both woodchucks but also won first place in Traditional Bow Class, beating Mike resoundingly. I think Mike was laughing too hard, both inside and out, throughout the course to shoot well. Tommy followed Dave in second place and our club president, Jim took third. Who took "Last Place" trophy? Well Mike told us last week to put those unusual awards in both classes as he was going to win something at this shoot - and it turned out he was right. The wages of sin!

For the "wheel bow" (compound) class the honors fell to Little Dave (a clean sweep for the Camps) in First, Mat in second and Bill P., our Tournament Director in third. Bill Franze came as promised and joined not only the Range Membership but also the club. I knew he planned to do that but I didn't know he would shoot (at unknown distances - with a pendulum sight?) but he did. With great determination and good humor he shot (and missed) and shot (and missed) and shot - (and missed some more). It should come as no surprise that he took the Last Place trophy in that class with a total score of  45. Nope that isn't a misprint. First day in the club, first competition, and he takes a trophy. Well, he deserved something to make up for the four arrows he never recovered. It was the general contention that I had brought him into the club in order to have someone I could beat. Shame on you guys! There were at least two others lower than I besides poor Bill F. This coming week he (Bill) is going to switch to a pin type sight and put his pendulum away except for maybe hunting. No, I'm not letting you off Scott-free, Lee. That erstwhile chap only shot 141. He shot what? 141 - Total. Of course I think he was shooting for that last place trophy since he usually comes in in the top three or close to it and can shoot better than that with his eyes closed. Besides he screamed out in utter shock when it was announced Bill F. won it with a 45 - he was sure he had it locked with his 141. Best laid plans of mice and men, Lee.

It was a great Fun Shoot - too bad you (and you) missed it.

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Also on the following Saturday (July 20th) some of our Hubert Archers went to the North Carolina State Championship shoot that they had qualified for earlier this year. Our crew did themselves proud and we all congratulate them. Take a gander at Gallery, Pg 5 for some pictures provided by Lee Canady and some comments about the results. By the way, the military community is well represented in the photo of the Hubert Archers in attendance at the NC State Archery Championships: Bill P. is a Active Marine Gunny Sgt., Jim C. is a retired Air Force officer (Col., I think), Lee is a retired Marine Master Gunny Sgt., Buzz is a retired Marine, Matt is active Navy, and Jimbo is an active Marine Gunny Sgt. How can one not be proud of our military members and their participation in the civilian community goings on wherever they happen to be stationed or retired? 

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Entry, August 23, 2002

e-bay, Anyone?

I want to talk about an interesting tool, pass-time, hobby, obsession...whoa! See how quickly it progresses into more and more? Ah, but it is useful...and fun. Not to mention you meet the most interesting people. Above all it is EASY...sooo easy. Everybody (?) has heard about e-bay and it's buy/sell auctions and associated store fronts but have you ever used it? It had some bad raps for a while there but all is hunky-dory these days, it seems. Everybody should try it at least once. Way back when I first got my computer and contacted my old friend, Hankus Magnificus he told me about e-bay. He was using it to locate fishing gear and found it more interesting than he expected because of the old collectible fishing gear he ran into. I went and signed up (a very easy and short process) which makes you able to use it to buy or sell...forever, apparently. Recently when I got interested in looking up bow equipment, I found I was still a registered "User", though I never had really used it for other than the occasional look-see.

This all started while working on slow days (back before it got close to hunting season) and curiosity caused me to pick a traditional bow off the wall, step out onto the balcony and shoot an arrow. I found I could usually hit a large pine cone on the ground within about three shots. This surprised me no end. I know I've mentioned parts of this from time to time but I got into archery late in life - only about 11 years ago. However I guess you could really say it started way back when I was a young tad. My brother, Dag had what was to me a real beautiful longbow. He had bought or traded for it with money made being a caddy at the local golf course - back when there were no such things as golf carts. He used to shoot it now and then and the beauty of it and the arching path of the arrow (plus my brother being six years older than I) fascinated me. He was always afraid I would lose his arrows or harm the bow, so it was a no-no for me to lay my bony fingers on it. Being the little bugger (spell that b-r-a-t) I was, I would sneak it out  and shoot it anyway, every chance I got. He always knew somehow and I caught it from both him and Ma  for doing it, many times. I couldn't draw it very far so there wasn't much danger to it but it was the idea of the thing I guess. I think the only reason they didn't kill me over it instead of just fussing at me was that money for good toys was scarce in our life and they understood that. After Dag joined the Navy I could shoot it pretty much with impunity, as no one was aware of it. Naturally half the fun went out of it then so I didn't do it very often. One day after a long layoff I did sneak it out of the barn to "try it on" again. Much to my surprise it now was easier for me to draw. However it was probably because it had dried out and the third time I drew it there was a loud crack and my brother's beautiful bow was in two pieces at my feet. I stood there staring done at it with the string still clenched in my hand, scared to death... but I did muster up the courage somehow to tell my mother, that same day, no less. In her wisdom, much to my relief, she saw no reason to bother my brother (in the middle of duties off the war torn Korean Coast) with such mundane problems. Some time later it came to pass that my brother wrote a letter to Ma and in it he told her I could have his longbow. I hadn't cried when I broke that bow, perhaps I was too scared, but I did that day the letter came telling of his gift to me. All alone, in the field out back where the beautiful piece of wood had given up the ghost, I said good bye to it ...with the taste of salt on my lips. I don't know that I could have put into words why I cried, I just knew I did.

There was no more bow involvement for me, other than looking at the strange shaped ones in Herter's catalog and marveling at all the laminations of various colored woods, until after I'd been in the Marines for some years. I went home on leave once then to find both my brother, Everet and brother-in-law, Larry had recurve bows. I didn't even know what they were but recognized they were not the same as longbows and recalled the ones I'd seen in Herter's. Ev invited us to go to his club's range, a fore-runner to the current 3-D ranges, to "shoot the course". We walked a woods trail and came upon paper targets of animals attached to hay bales. I couldn't draw either of their bows far enough to amount to anything so I had to shoot from the "kiddie pins" at each target. It was a ball though and I knew I wanted one of my own that I could draw properly. Other things pushed the desire aside though as the years passed. By the time I did get back to it in Maine eleven years ago I found compound bows were the "way to go", so I didn't fight it.

Now, on the balcony there at the bow shop, it was like running into an old lover. I started thinking of owning one again. I love shooting the compounds but it is really two different concepts and disciplines. There is something even more therapeutic about shooting the old traditional bows and they began singing to me like the fabled sirens of old. Well, to make a long story short I finally gave in and bought a high dollar custom type Bob Lee recurve (visit my Hot List for a link to their web site) from David, my boss. It was the same one he had won the club Fun Shoot with, beating all but his son's compound bow that day. However that wasn't until after my experience with e-bay, which started this story, and David made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

I decided to start looking on e-bay for a prospect because Buzz Luhm had told me he had bought an American Archery bow from there for fifty bucks and then won the State Championship with it. I won my first bid fairly easily and reasonably. There are some small strategies that can sometimes help you win a bid but there is a lot of luck involved to, especially when you have limits. Oh, and you do need limits or you could get carried away and get yourself in over your head. I decided I would bid on low cost ones in my manageable weight, then keep the one that "fit me" best, and sell the others at the shop. This plan evolved as I found the fun and lure of the bidding, winning, and losing getting to me. David made the comment, "Explain to me, Bernie, how do you win something when you have to pay for it afterwards?"

Anyway I guess I won that first one cause no one had heard of the "brand", A. C. Baier. We decided afterwards some unknown person by that name had either made or repaired the bow and put his name on it and that was all the info that was on it. The seller had tested it though and it was a 37# draw weight. I was some happy "old kid" when I received it and lo and behold it shot quite well after I got the right length string on it. I was tickled. I could see I would have to do some refinish work on it but I didn't mind as I've always liked doing that with guns, fishing rods, small wooden things, etc. It was in the process of planning all this that I found a defect that will require some rather tricky repair. I don't believe the average seller/buyer would have noticed it under normal inspection but a prime joint in the riser had never been glued and when strung it would separate ever so slightly - and it still shot well, as I was proving daily, much to my joy. If I hadn't been holding it up to powerful sunlight in just the right way, I would never have seen the defect either. It was while I was lamenting to David that the worst part was I would have to stop using it until I completed the repair that he made me the offer. "Bernie, take the Bob Lee home and use it...you've been wanting to try it anyway. Your next one from e-bay will be here soon and you're welcome to use it 'til then." Such a nice guy, so innocent, so beguiling - HA! He'd never have that bow on the "For Sale" rack in his shop again, and he knew it. Hooked! What a beauty and a sweet shooter - all mine now. Thank you, Dave (I think).

Well, I "won" two more bids (and lost quite a few) on e-bay. An American Archery model and an old Bear Ranger. Both nice old bows and good shooters. They cleaned up well and, with a minimum of work and cost, are good to go. The best part is I've had some great e-mail exchanges with some fine vendors. That only occurs after the auction is over - though you are allowed to e-mail questions to the seller if need be, I had no occasion to. One even sent me a great picture of his beagle (on Gallery, Pg6). These vendors sell and buy bows and other things on e-bay and from my experience with them, they are trustworthy and straight forward. Of course right now is a bad time to buy (bid on) bows as everyone is trying to get one for the upcoming seasons (bad plan) and I've seen the bid prices rise in a short time period. However, if you run into <traditonal1>,<elkkabong>, or <deckerar> as sellers on e-bay I think you can "deal with confidence" - and tell 'em <ber643> said, "Hey!"

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Entry, September 01, 2002

Scouting (?) - Into Early Season

Scouting, as we laughingly call it this year, has been very sketchy indeed. Not over a week ago everything was so dry and packed down the only place you could find a track was in loose sand (dust) or some tiny spot of mud near some close to non existent water. Bill Franze and I looked for phantom tracks on a piece of land he has garnered permission to hunt (and bring a guest). After a half of a day flailing around in the heat we were finally lucky enough to find two separate sets of tracks near a small possible watering hole. We were elated to get even that small amount of sign in our "track soup". Randy and I went two places we go to hunt. One has a lake nearby and, I kid you not, we walked on the lake bottom - where the year before fish swam about. The second place is beside a river that stays pretty full so things weren't quite as dry there. In fact it had rained (and perhaps had hail and heavy wind) the night before and not too many deer had walked after the storm. The forest floor was actually littered with small branches of green leaves. When the deer finally came out (presumably the evening of the day we were there), I'll bet they had a ball browsing on stuff they normally never get to reach. At least it was nice to see relatively soft and normal earth with some tracks after all the arid stuff we had been looking at. Fortunately the farm Randy and I usually hunt locally is planted with beans this year so at least we are seeing some tracks around the edges of the fields where the shade from the plants are keeping the soil from being quite so dry. It has been pretty much this way for most folks I've talked to. Randy has been spending quite a few evenings up there watching deer movements in and out of the fields from a safe distance. He should know them all by first names now. For the last week now, this part of Coastal NC has been battered with much needed rain. However it has been in such copious quantity and frequency that we are still lucky to find a track before it gets washed away. The bow season opens the 7th, one week away, and we will pretty much be doing Gomer Pyle, "sur-prise, sur-prise," type hunting. Pray hard and take whatever comes along as heaven sent, you might say.

Friend Allen from SC took his first of the season (and our circle's first one) yesterday evening. It was a nine pointer I'm told, "...but he had to use a rifle  to get it." Some place he and his Father-in-law have been hunting a couple years now. Good work, buddy, even if you did lay your bow down so early in the season. I know,  I know - too much open area to cover with a bow. OK, so you've got the earliest deer again this year; you can go back to your bow now. Send us a picture for the Gallery if you can. Watch here for the first hunt reports. They are still kind of up in the air as to where we'll go as Randy's schedule in his "other life" is kind of hectic right now.

Day Before Season Opener

Tomorrow is the big day (we hope), at least it is time to fling ourselves amongst them anyway. Allen has promised a picture of his early deer, as soon as he gets them developed and says he, "even smiled in one of them." Good on ya, buddy. Randy has cleared his schedule a little, so he and I will head up to the Roanoke River area tonight, boat out to our favorite campsite for the night, and rise early in the AM to get on stand. We debated whether it was best to carry extra gear for one night camping and go tonight, or go light and have to get up a couple or more hours earlier tomorrow AM, plus maybe run into a crowded boat ramp. The extra sleep won out. Bill Franze will go down to the place he and I scouted and put his stand up today, then give it a bloody go tomorrow. He goes with my admonition to take care and be extra safe out there by himself. He will try to get a report off to me Sat. evening and then he leaves Sun. for a club hunt in the North Eastern part of the State on Mon. He and I plan to get together for a hunt one day next week. Point being, it's all coming together now and there should be reports of some kind on deer hunts by next week.

To keep myself from going crazy while waiting for tomorrow I have pursued my new hobby of restoration on old recurve bows to good avail. As reported earlier, I got three off e-bay, Bill brought me two that a chap had given to him (we'll split the profits on those), and I bought a sixth one, that is the best yet, just a couple days ago, locally. I got the tricky repairs finished on the first one I got off e-bay and it came out great - if I do say so myself. David thought so too, though. I already put four bows on the wall at the shop and one sold a few days ago. I have two now that only lack strings (and me getting a chance to enjoy shooting them some, of course) and then they'll be ready to take their place on the wall also. More fun and satisfaction than raiding Mr. Harris's melon patch with his son, and my childhood friend, Arthur. Now there are some stories - but I guess most of those are perhaps better left untold for now - Arthur was a catbird! Gotta go get the camping gear ready to pack for Deer Season Opener!

Opener?

Well, there it was - what's that oft repeated phrase, be careful what you wish for - you might just get it? That's all right, though, in this case it is a gift I am more than happy to live with. While Bill, at the place he and I scouted, saw no deer, and Randy, with me, saw only two youngsters on his way to take his stand at o-dark thirty, I really saw deer! No, I didn't get one, nor did I even get a chance to launch an arrow but I definitely saw deer and, after all, that was all I had asked for. After a leisurely trip to the Roanoke River area on Fri. evening, Randy and I boated out to our campsite of the previous year trips. Someone was already camped there but it was a site more than capable of handling a number of campers. However we waited for the lone camper to return in his boat before unloading. We wanted to touch base before moving in on him, just out of common courtesy. Besides, he might have turned out to be an axe murderer or some other type of even less desirable character, such as a "Slob Hunter". If so we'd have moved on to another campsite. All was well and we set up our camp, with two tents this year (good fortune at the yard sales). Much better, as now we both had room to put all our gear inside our individual tent with us and still have room-a-plenty for our bedroll. The owls serenaded us right from the start and throughout our stay. There are a great many owls in the Carolinas, especially near the waterways. I don't recall if I mentioned it or not but I had decided last year at season's end that I was not going to hunt another year without benefit of three very important items. They are now in my duffle bag of tricks and are a good, quiet rain suit, a full-body safety harness, and a Bug Tamer 3D leaf suit. I was so proud of myself for having acquired those items and without depleting the family funds but through hard work and some fancy trading. As we were stashing our "stuff" in our tents, we prepared and laid out our morning clothes and gear. It didn't take me long to realize that of my new items for safety, health, and comfort, one was among the missing. Ayuh, I had left my Bug Tamer suit, that beautiful garment by Shannon that protects the body from bugs while making the hunter look like a real live bush, hanging on my closet door at home. Fat lot of good it would do me there! Oh well, I look forward to using it on my next time out. The safety harness and rain suit worked out well anyway. Especially since I only had shorts along to wear under the missing Bug Tamer suit. I had to wear the rain suit to protect my "bird legs" from the hoards of murderous, Mongol-like mosquitoes. As I said, it worked out well but no mater how much they swear a rain suit is "breathable" they never fully prevent that clammy feeling. Trust me on that! Overall it is still a really good one though. Unfortunately, it has no name and is only labeled as Mossy Oak Breakup Camo, made in the Phillipines but it is soft, quiet, breathable material and made with Gore-tex and Windstopper layers as well. They do refer to it on the tags as a rain tamer parka and rain tamer pants. All in all a quality piece of gear that will stand me in good stead many times over. The body harness is the well-known  Seat-of-the-Pants model, only without the attached fanny pack. Summit Treestands Co. took over that company and now includes one with each of their stands, but without the pack. Since Randy already had one of the originals, I was able to swap some no longer needed aluminum arrows (for Hunter to practice with) for the one he got with his new Summit tree climber. Bingo!

I had (as with all openers) hoped to take my first ever deer on opening day of a season but that was not to be. I did have a number of firsts occur though and that is always great and ever-renewing in the hunting game. One of the many facets that keep hunting interesting. It started with me making my way along a ditch towards my selected site and tree in the pre-dawn dark. Randy had dropped me off at the end of the ditch and I could barely hear the movement of his boat as his trolling motor took him towards his site. As I moved along I became aware of a set of eyes glistening in the beam of my small headband penlight. They were across the ditch up ahead of me and low to the ground. Raccoon, or perhaps fox? As I got nearer it became apparent that it was a bedded doe, just watching me intently as I passed her at a distance of 8 yards at most. I only glanced at her sideways, following my self imposed caution of not looking into the eyes of any deer. It worked again, even though I had fully expected her to "blow" and bust out of there alerting the whole forest to my presence. I think the incident