Archive for the 'Hunting Stories' Category

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5 (0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by archerchick on 05 Sep 2010

Bowhunting with The Dutchman – By H.R. “Dutch” Wambold

Archery World – May 1968

Bowhunting with the Dutchman

By H.R. “Dutch” Wambold

During the first days of May as the waters of the

streams warm under the rays of the spring sunshine,

the spawning run of the carp makes its appearance

in the backwaters.

This is the time of the year when many archers

tape their.bowfishing reels on their bow, round up a

few solid glass fishing shafts and points and hit the

waters for some fast shooting fun.

Bowfishing for carp finds many variations by which

to enjoy the sport. Shooting can be done from a

canoe as it is guided into productive waters, or from

any boat for that matter. The method that apPeals

to most bowhunters is the sream bank stalking, or

getting right into the water to work onto the carp.

The large doe carp bursting with eggs keep work-

ing the muddy bottoms of the backwaters making

their nests. The smaller buck carp keep bunting the

doe to force the eggs out of her. In hunting waters

where this takes place, the large doe will rise to the

surface of the water, roll, showing her large dorsal

fin, give a flip of her broad tail and head for the

bottom again.

<

By the time you spot the doe rolling, or hear the

splash of her tail, the carp has usually disappeared

beneath the surface. If you can get into a shooting

position in jig time, all you have to aim for is a slight

swirl in the surface to indicate where the carp had

been. Using some “Mississippi Dippage” you hold

for where you think the carp might be and let go.

The shooting is fast, and the misses are numerous

while the action is tremendous. This type of blind

shooting averages about one hit out of three shots.

If you get into the middle of things and spot a

large doe being bunted around by several smaller

buck carp, you can usually work within range for a

shot while the large doe is still rolling to elude the

males. Nlany times you may wind up with two small-

er buck carp being skel.ered lvhen you miss the old

gal!

Early morning, just before sunrise, seems to be the

ideal time for top action when the spawn is at its

height. The waters are calm, a mist hangs or.er the

surface, and the splash of working carp are the only

sounds. Stalking along the stream banks during this

early morning bowfishing finds many of the carp

hugging the shorelines, and working along the under-

cuts in the banks. If you move slowly, and do not

teveal your profile you can shoot quite a few sleepers.

If you get too close to the edge of the water the carp

will spot you and spook.

Another good opportunity for some fast shooting

can be had if a shallow section of riffles or gravel

bar happens to be in the course towards the back-

waters where the carp are headed for. By working

your way into an advantageous position and playing

the waiting game you may find yourself in for some

fast and furious shooting if carp are working their

way past at the time. When this is the case you can

see your target in the shallows as the carp splash

their way across into deeper waters beyond.

Stingrays

When May ends and the carp start slowing down,

one can find plenty of action in salt water bow-

fishing. June finds the stingrays coming into the

coves and bays for the long summer months that lay

ahead.

The feeding grounds of the rays are where the

clam and oyster beds are located. The rays feed

mainly on mollusks. The early days of June find

the larger rays working into the coves as the mating

season is at its peak. Large numbers are seen during

the first couple weeks after which the numbers seem

to taper off until late August.

This type of bowfishing requires a boat and out-

board. Although .any boat can be used, the ideal

model should have a small quarter-deck so that the

bowfisherman can stand high and up next to the

bow as the coves are trolled, slowly looking for the

sign of a ray. This position also gives the shooter

the advantage of left and right as well as dead ahead

shots on the scooting rays.

Cruising at trolling speed, a sharp lookout is kept

for the darker holes or nests of the rays on the

bottom. Many times a ray may be lying in these

nests and either spook as the boat approaches, or

play possum as the boat passes overhead. An

experienced eye can many times spot the end of the long

tail protruding out of the nest and get a guzzy shot.

At other times when the ray spooks before the boat

reaches his nest, the powerful wings will leave a mud

trail of churned sand along the bottom. The boat is

quickly turned to follow this trail with motor gunned

wide open. When the ray is spotted the shooter on

the bow signals the operator into position for a shot

at the fast moving ray from a moving boat. This

type of shooting takes a few misses to get the hang

of proper lead and compensation for light refraction.

Only a short length of line is placed on the bow

reel, about 30 feet, and the end opposite the arrow is

tied to a small float which is taped to the upper limb

of the bow on the belly side. When the ray is hit,

you hold onto the bow with both hands until the

line has all played off the reel. The float is torn

from the bow as the ray flees. Now you follow with

the boat until the ray stops to sulk on the bottom.

The float is now picked from the surface and

quickly attached to the end of a line of a game fish

rod and reel rig.

Now the bowfisherman becomes the

worker as you start pumping and trying to horse

the big ray in alongside the boat. When the ray on

the end of your fishing arow is a 100 pounder with

a four to five foot span on those powerful wings, you

have your work cut out for you!

Fishing waters should be from three to five feet

in depth and as calm as weather will permit to see

to the bottom. \Vatching the incoming and outgoing

tides will clue you as to when the right time will

permit ideal conditions. Polaroid sun glasses are a

must and help greatly in reducing the light refraction

which will mislead placing the shot in the right place.

Sharks

Most salt waters find some sharks around. The

bigger species are usually found miles offshore in

deeper waters that average from 40 to 90 feet. This

of course does not apply to the tropical waters of the

Florida Keys or similar areas.

When trying for sharks in the northeastern waters,

late surnmer seems to be the most ideal time. Although

small boats can be used and will get results in many cases,

the big sharks are out in deep waters

and require a boat that can ride the open sea.

Chumming must be done to attract the sharks.

When a shark bowfishing trip is planned, a regular

fishing boat seems to be the best bet. Several years

ago I did some shark bowfishing with Captain Munsen

who specializes in this type of sortee. He calls

himself the “Monster Fisherman” and brings in many

good sized sharks.

Operating from Montauk Point on Long Island,

Munsen works his broad-beamed power boat 40 miles

offshore to where the continental shelf lies. Here

the waters drop off to 90 feet or better. This is shark alley.

A chum slick is now spread for several miles.

As the boat drifts along over the shark waters, the

oily slick of the chum winds into the distance behind.

When the chum atracts the sharks up from below,

and the fins are spotted, a teaser bait is thrown out

on a hand line to lure the shark in close to the

boat.

The bowfisherman has rigged himself with about

20 feet of line, one end of Which is attached to the

end of his fishing arrow, and the other is tied to an

innertube on the deck alongside his feet. The line is

carefully coiled so that it will play out freely when

the arrow is put into the shark.

The tube follows overboard, and the shark takes off.

Later, when the shark has played itself out fighting the

inflated innertube, which is painted a bright

yellow, you check the waters with binoculars to spot

the float. The shark is now worked in to the boat

and killed.

Our day’s shark bowfishing found me shooting a

nine-foot blue shark and missing a leviathan that

must have gone at least l2 foot or better!

Care must be taken to attach the line only to the

nock end of the glass shaft. This will keep the line

clear of rubbing on the shark’s hide which is like

sandpaper and will cut the line. About a six foot

length of flexible and light wire cable leader is good

insurance against the shark cutting the line while it

fights the innertube float.

Light Refraction

The nemesis all bowfishing faces is light ray refraction

on the surface of the water. The position

of the sun overhead in comparison to the location

of the bowfisherman, and the target’s direction of

movement presents some optical illusions.

For example: With the sun shining down from

behind the bowfisherman and the fish swimming

away, requires that you shoot behind the fish to make

a hit. Should that same fish be swimming in towards

you, you shoot ahead of the fish to make your hit!

Should the fish be swimming from left to right

in front of the bowfisherman’s position you again

shoot below to make a hit. If the fish is swimming

from right to left you again aim below to hit. This

of course is taking for granted that the sun is still

behind the bowfisherman.

Should the sun be in front of the bowfisherman,

and shining into his face, cross-swimming fish from

either side will appear to be closer to you and will

require shooting over them to make a hit.

Polaroid glasses eliminate most of this refraction

problem as well as enabling the wearer to see into

the depths to spot the fish. Surface glare is eliminated

by the polaroid lens.

Whatever your bow shooting activities might be

during the summer months, don’t pass up the chance

for some bowfishing action in your locality. The

change of pace is a welcome one, and the recreational

pastime is a satisfying experience.

Archived by

ARCHERYTALK.COM

all rights reserved

1 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 5 (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by admin on 23 Aug 2010

BloodBrothers Or Adversaries-Choices

BloodBrothers Or Adversaries-Choices by Ted Nugent

There is no question that the finest human beings on planet earth are found around hunting campfires worldwide. Kind, hard working, caring, giving, generous, connected, down to earth, clever, sophisticated, educated, loving, funny and genuine are only a few adjectives to describe the families who carry on the most positive environmental, hands-on conservation lifestyle in the world. These are my heart and soul BloodBrothers and they inspire me to no end.

I have been guiding, outfitting, hunting along side and sharing BloodBrother campfires with literally thousands and thousands of these great people for my entire life and I know what I am talking about. The defining example of their greatness continues to sine through when I proudly take part in numerous charity fundraisers for needy children and the hero warriors of the US Military and their families year after year, month after month. Never has there been a time when hunters fail to charge forward, often at great personal sacrifice, to give and give and give some more. In nearly every instance in literally hundreds of instances, my donated hunts have raised record dollars fo every imaginable charity event, and that is because hunters always give more. Know it.

With that glowing truism well established, it is with a heavy heart that we must admit the painful reality that along with the abundant good, there is unfortunately always some bad and ugly. And no where in any segment of society have I witnessed a lower form of life than that which also inhabits our beloved hunting community. Sad but true.

We all know of their ugly existence. The sign shooters, the treestand thieves, the vandals, the drunks, the slobs, the dopers, the meth heads, the poachers, the criminal element, and maybe even worse than all that, the cannibalistic holy-than-thou elitists who stand as buffoonish deterrents to the recruitment of new and more sporting families to our beloved hunting lifestyle.

This inbreeding and cannibalism within our sport is one of life’s truly bizarre mysteries, and the manifestation of the soullessness of mankind.

You know them too. The unsophisticated amongst us who condemn hunting methodology choices other than theirs. The black powder elitists who frown on inline muzzleloaders or those unethical lesser sporters who cheat by using scopes on their front stuffers.

The weirdo’s who scorn the compound bowhunter for his “training wheels”.

The state bowhunting organizations who somehow classify a crossbow as some sort of firearm or possessing firearm capabilities in spite of the universal evidence to the contrary.

The “fair chase” and “no fences” obsessers who condemn private property high fence game managers’ and other hunters’ choices.

The goofballs who condemn the use of bait for herbivores but hunt over various baits themselves, and use bait for bears.

There are hunters who have voted to outlaw hound hunting.

How about the really strange hunters who think wearing camo in public has some negative connotations to the non hunter?

If you can imagine, in the eleven states where Sunday hunting is banned, the loudest voice for such an unimaginable hunting ban comes from hunter organizations. Think about that for a moment. Incredible.

I have personally been attacked forever for my legal hunting choices, choices mind you that are chosen by millions upon millions of great hunters across the land. Many of the world’s greatest and most respected hunters ever, like Fred Bear, Dale Earnhart, Howard Hill, Craig Boddington, Bob Foulkrod, Fred Eichler, Chuck Adams, Cameron Haines, Michael Waddell and millions more enjoy hunting with hounds and over bait. How a fellow hunter can condemn such choices is a clear and present indictment to their embarrassing small mindedness and strange, unfounded elitism. Sad testimony really.

My personal favorites are the clowns who claim I’m not a real hunter and bad for our sport because of my long hair and musical career, then go off with their drinking, smoking, chewing buddies to the topless bar for a night of wholesome recreation. Phenomenal. Meanwhile I will continue to celebrate and promote our honorable hunting heritage in my proven style and to hundreds of millions of people around the world in my unprecedented and irrefutably effective way. I wonder how many of them created a children’s charity to recruit tens of thousands of new sporters. I don’t really wonder. I know.

Bottomline, the animal right’s and anti-hunting goons have never negatively effected our sport anywhere near as bad as our own fellow hunters have. When Michigan produces more than a thousand times the number of mourning doves than we do peasants, but have failed to legalize dove hunting, it is not the anti-hunters who are to blame. It is the bottom feeding hunters who sided with them or failed to stand up for our rights that accomplished this grave injustice, and many, many others across America just like it.

So what can the good guys do? Turn up the heat, that’s what. Engage all hunters to think and try harder to be a positive force for our sport. Initiate the dialog and don’t let the naysayers get away with nonsense and silliness. We can’t educate those entrenched to resist education, but I believe we can galvanize more and more hunters to be supportive of choices and respect the powerful bond of our BloodBrotherhood.

Sometimes you can’t fix stupid, but we can all try harder to maximize the positive and minimize the negative. I for one would never find fault with, much less attempt to ban the choices of my fellow sporters. Waterholes are bait. Foodplots are bait. Mock scrapes are bait. Etc etc etc. We all know that. And every hunter I know supports such choices completely. Let us hope a new wave of upgrade rolls throughout our sport so that someday we can all stand as one to further our beloved lifestyle while uniting to defeat the real braindead enemy of those opposed to us. I have a dream.

Visit tednugent.com of twiter.com/tednugent for more Full Bluntal Nugity

1 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 5 (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by admin on 02 Aug 2010

SUMMER SAUSAGE by Ted Nugent

 

SUMMER SAUSAGE                                                           by Ted Nugent
 
 

Ah, summertime, life is good and the living is easy. Dripping wet with nonstop sweat, but I’ll take it. The heat and humidity was brutal, but I had a day off from an even more brutal rock-n-roll tour schedule where we stormtrooped six nights a week with an animal ferocity the likes of which mankind has never imagined.
Trample The Weak Hurdle The Dead, nothing but lovesongs from your uncle Ted. Me and my boys were rocking at an alltime high intensity, and we only had eight more weeks to go before the official hunting season came on strong. I couldn’t wait. In fact, I won’t!
 
Spending my days working with my Labrador retrievers in anticipation of another upcoming wonderful waterfowl season, checking my varmint traps, exercising my arsenal and working on feeders and deer stands, there was no way I could fail to sit in one of my favorite ladderstands at the forest pond where the critters would surely have to converge for a little liquid refreshment before dark. There are swine in these here woods, and I need to get me some pork for the grill.
 
Big Jim and I loaded up the F250 backstrap hauler with bows, arrows, lightweight ScentLok camo, ice cold water, ThermaCells, vidcam and plenty of attitude. We quietly settled into our double ladderstands with a good cross wind from the southwest, and got ready to rock the three hours till dark.
 
I had placed some brand new Primo’s Swamp Donkey nutritional supplemental feed and attractant, both in granulated and palletized form, at the base of a few trees between us and the ponds edge. Following recent good rains, the little woodland pond doubled in size from slightly less than an acre to two acres, so we knew we needed something to improve our chances to lure some hogs into bowrange.
 
I often mention how the great outdoors “cleanses the soul”, but during my insane ultra rock tours, soul cleansing is essential for survival. As always, the beautiful Michigan woods calmed me and brought relaxation like no other. Crows yammered in the distance, woodpeckers harassed the wood bound bug world, and sand hill cranes crillled high overhead.
 
My old woods is emerald green in summer, and a slight breeze under the sun shielding canopy provided a welcome respite from the cooking ball of fire to the west. Jim videoed the beauty of sunrays cutting through the swaying  branches and a smiling old guitar player at home and happy on his sacred hunting grounds. A few golden deer skittered off in the shadows, but all was peaceful at our waterhole.
 
As dusk approached, I noticed movement to the south as three very handsome wild boar skulked along the forest edge headed for water. The good sized pigs took their time but eventually waded into the pond, crossing to our side. When they got a snout full of Swamp Donkey, they went for it.
 
As always, they ate facing us or facing directly away, not giving a decent shot for a long time. Finally, the smaller, redder hog, what I thought was a sow, turned broadside and I smoothly drew my lightweight 50# Martin bow without any of them noticing.
 
At twenty yards, I picked a spot and let er rip. The vidcam caught the zebra shaft smacking into the hogs ribs as the Lumenok glowed bright orange right exactly where I wanted it, in and out of the swine in an instant.
 
With a grunt and a squeal, the trio lit out of there like a punched piggy and disappeared into the dark forest behind us. Good Lord that’s exciting stuff! At 62 years clean and sober young, every arrow is more thrilling today in my life than ever before, and my big old pig killing grin on camera said it all. I knew my arrow was true, and it was just a matter of tracking my prize.
 
The bloodtrail was a dandy and in short order we recovered my prize. Though I thought my pig was the smallest of the three, it turned out to be a fine, heavy boar of over 140 pounds. A great trophy and killer grilling!
 
My 400 grain Nuge Gold Tip 5575 tipped with a scalpel sharp Magnus two blade BuzzCut head had zipped clean through the tough beast like butter. A graceful 50# bow is all she wrote, and in fact, Mrs. Nugent cleanly kills all her big game with a lightweight girly 40#. She has bagged big tenacious deer, rams, wildebeest, kudu, gemsbok, zebra, warthogs, impala, Aoudad, and an assortment of various big game around the world, proving the certain deadliness of lightweight tackle. I hope nobody keeps people out of our wonderful bowhunting lifestyle for the wrongheaded assumption that a powerful bow is necessary to kill big game. It isn’t. Stealth, grace and razor sharp arrowhead placement makes venison, not velocity or power.
 
We hauled my trophy boar out of the forest with a handy Glenn’s DeerHandle, loaded it up and after thoroughly cleaning and skinning it, hung it in our portable Polar King walk in cooler. The next day our buddy who specializes in smoking whole hogs picked it up for the final process for the ultimate wise use conservation of renewable pork.
 
Summertime-perfect. Hog hunting-perfect. Beautiful arrows-perfect. Dead hogs-perfect. Smoked hogs-perfect. Barbeque-perfect. Rocking like pork spirit powered maniacs the next night in Wisconsin-perfect. I call it the American Dream. Perfect.
 
For ultimate year round trophy boar hunting with Ted Nugent at Sunrize Acres in Michigan, contact [email protected] 517-750-9060, or visit tednugent.com
 

 

2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 52 votes, average: 5.00 out of 52 votes, average: 5.00 out of 52 votes, average: 5.00 out of 52 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5 (2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by admin on 02 Aug 2010

UNCLE TED ARCHERY ACCURACY TIPS FOR MORE BACKSTRAPS

 

UNCLE TED ARCHERY ACCURACY TIPS FOR MORE BACKSTRAPSby Ted Nugent
By Ted Nugent
I am a simple man. Not so simple minded, but real simple in the logic department. Unfortunately, I am also a hyper intense maniac kind of guy, dangerously plagued with a bad case of out of control over the top mad man passion and lust for life. If I could just calm down once in a while….. Nah, I like it like this.
 
Who else would have, could have created all these cool animal breeding guitar masterpieces like Stranglehold, Great White Buffalo, Fred Bear and a few hundred more if I weren’t like this. Mankind owes me. This is the soundtrack for ultimate living, and I have no regrets. Thank You Lord.
 
Unfortunately, such a hyper personality is the worse kind for archery control, and I blame this intensity of life for my tendency to snap into occasional target panic hell. It ain’t pretty, but I do attack this malady with the same maniacal enthusiasm I do everything in my life, and I would like to pass along to all my Mystical Flight of the Arrow BloodBrothers a little tip for controlling this ugly beast. I know for a fact that a huge number of archers and bowhunters wrestle with various degrees of target panic, and if I can manage it, anyone can.
 
Basically, target panic manifests its ugly self in the weird, inexplicable strangeness of failing to be able hold our sight pins dead on target. I shot bare bow, instinctively with no sights for the first fifty years of my beloved archery/bowhunting life, then around 1977, BAM! I went chimp on myself.
 
Lucky me, I had a blessed life where the mighty Fred Bear was a close friend, and my terrified phonecall to this great man immediately brought me some relief and confidence. He explained how he was ready to abandon his beloved bow and arrows due to a bout with target panic in the 1950s, but worked on a management program to over power it.
 
Whew! Thank God! Thank Fred!
 
Step one, according to Fred, was to get a super lightweight draw bow that gave as little muscle resistance as possible. I got a Bear Hunter recurve at 35#.
 
Step two was to shoot at very close range at a big, obvious target. So I stacked four bales of wheat straw and placed a large white paper plate in the middle and stood at ten feet.
 
Step three was to shoot with my eyes closed to memorize the shooting sequence and concentrate on the smoothest release possible.
 
Step four, and the most difficult and frustrating move, was to draw down on the paper plate, now with a small black dot in the middle, and force myself to zero in on my ultimate sight picture but not release the arrow. This step nearly drove me crazy, because I would tell myself I was not going to let my arrow go, which seemed to fool my brain allowing me to perfectly point my arrow dead on at the little black dot, and of course then I would release the arrow and it would hit the small dot perfectly for a few times. I struggled like a crazy man to force myself to not shoot, but would defy my own will and shoot anyway when my sight picture looked so good. It about drove me crazy.
 
Focusing on Step three, I would say a three step prayer, where I said the sign of the cross. “In the name of the Father“, I would pick a spot on the paper plate, “And of the Son”, I would anchor solidly in the corner of my mouth, and “Of the Holy Spirit” I would close my eyes, and on “Amen” I would roll my fingers away from the string.
 
Through nonstop practice, I was so dedicated to the three step prayer, that it was as if I wasn’t shooting a bow, but rather simply going through a muscle memorized imprinted procedure, and I really started shooting incredibly accurate.
 
Most of the time. I would occasionally slip out of mind set and flinch like a pinched school girl, my arrow nearly missing the whole wall of straw. It was bizarre.
 
I went to a compound bow in 1978, and a year or so later began to use a mechanical release, but still shot without sights, canting my bow just like I always did.
 
I never gave up, and eventually got better and better with hunting weight bows at longer range, but had to constantly work on managing the prayer.
 
Years later, my good buddy Bryan Schupbach at Schupbach Sporting Goods in Jackson, Michigan, put together one of my Martin bows with sight pins and a peep sight and said I had to genuinely dedicate myself to go for this setup to see what I could do.
 
And it worked. I still shoot a lightweight 50# bow, but the three point prayer combined with the consistency of fiber optic sight pings in a large aperture peep sight has turned me into a pretty good shot. I doubt I will ever get back that pure instinctive longbow touch I had as a kid, but I sure don’t miss very often and my beloved bowhunting is more intense, fun and gratifying than it has ever been in my 62 years. God it feels good!
 
The final piece to the accuracy puzzle, particularly on game animals, is to not focus on the pin, but rather on the exact spot you want your arrow to hit. The pin should actually be in your secondary vision, the animals vitals your primary vision. For me, to look at the pin and try to walk it onto the magic triangle of the beast brings back some of that target panic freeze off target, and that is not good.
 
For those lucky dogs, like Mrs. Nugent and my sons, who can simply nail the pin down on the exact spot everytime and without a hick-up, simply shoot the animal in the heart, this all sounds like psycho babble. But target panic is as real as a heart attack for many, many archers and bowhunters across the land, and many of us are convinced the prime cause of attrition in our sport.
 
I hope you all share this with your hunting families and friends, and go over each step diligently. I am also convinced that if done so, we could finally have the ten million bowhunters in America that we should have. But each step is critical, and what I believe to be a sure fire recipe for ultimate bowhunting accuracy.
 
May the bloodtrails be short and may the sacred backstraps flow like manna from heaven.
 
For signed copies of Ted Nugent’s books, including “BloodTrails II-The Truth About Bowhunting” visit tednugent.com

1 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 5 (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by admin on 02 Aug 2010

Nugent hit it dead center with his “Mystical flight of the arrow”

Nugent hit it dead center with his “Mystical flight of the arrow”
 
Ted Nugent calls it “the mystical flight of the arrow” and I always thought that was a pretty good description of the sport of archery.  There’s just something about the flight of an arrow that has been a lifelong addiction for me.  I drew my first bow in 1971 at the age of four and have been drawing a bowstring ever since.  Uncle Theo has a way with words and I’ve never seen a better description than he has for this passion we share for the flight of the arrow.
 
I like shooting an arrow, talking about and writing about it, and visiting with others that like it.  So much so that I made it a career.  For the past 25 years I’ve been on the road doing instinctive archery shows across the country.  As a protege’ of the late Rev. Stacy Groscup, I have tried to demonstrate the instinctive style of shooting for audiences from a wide variety of backgrounds.  I have stood in the Bronx after a show there and watched children line up for two hours to try archery after my show.  I have stood in a horse barn in Amish country and did shows, and in some of the finest sports complexes we have.  It matters not, people enjoy the flight of an arrow and hopefully they also listen to my words, encouraging them to spend time as a family unit together outdoors—away from cell phones, computers, video games, and tv.  I also tell the youngsters in the audience about staying away from drugs and living a good life, so that they can dream big dreams and then work hard to make those dreams come true.  And when my arrow busts that baby aspirin from mid air, it drives those messages home. 
 
What is it about this flight of the arrow that draws us in?  One of things for me is accuracy.  I love to see an arrow strike it’s target.  I have written articles prior to this one discussing the importance of target acquisition.  You see an object, lock in on it, draw the bow and release your arrow.  Then there is that moment while the arrow travels to the mark— anticipation–and then the moment of truth– a hit or a miss.  Powerful stuff.  I don’t really care what style of shooting you use–GAP, Point Of Aim, Sights, Scope, Release… it’s that arrow flying to it’s mark.  That’s the excitement. 
 
My son now has the passion for archery!  The fact that he’s already busting balloons with his bow at three years old is awesome.  I remember a few weeks ago when he and I were in the indoor range.  I put a balloon on the target for him, knelt down beside him to help him draw his bow when he took the bow from me and walked a few paces away saying, “I got it dad” or something like that, drawing the bow, and letting the arrow fly.  I watched as that arrow slowly went into the air and “POW” popped the balloon first shot!  That was the first time he’d ever fired a bow on his own.  I will always remember that particular shot.  Wow.
 
There have been other shots over the years I remember.  One of them is when the late Tom Joyce, a Bear recurve shooter and instinctive shooter that was a family friend was at our place shooting.  We were on the practice range one day behind my parent’s retail store.  They had various targets set up at distances from 20 to 80 yards in this big field.  Near the 80 yard target was a Poplar tree with Autumn leaves hanging low.  Tom said, “Watch this…” and slowly drew his Bear take down.  When his finger got to the corner of his mouth he let it fly.  The arrow glided into mid air and then came down and hit the leaf dead center!  An amazing 80 yard or more shot!  Tom grinned. 
I also remember watching an arrow miss it’s mark once.  I had never seen my father miss game with a bow, ever.  A few years ago we were hunting on the King Ranch in South Texas.  An opportunity at a huge 170-180 class buck presented itself and pop loaded his bow and got ready.  He drew the bow, and I was videoing the shot.  All at once the arrow was in flight and glided right over the buck’s back.  I laughed so hard I accidentally shut the camera off.  He didn’t find it funny.  We went in for lunch and then after lunch he put a napkin on a cactus.  He stood back and at 50 yards put a broadhead through the center of the napkin.  The buck had only been maybe 42 yards.  Pop’s a good shot but evidently got buck fever.
 
One last arrow I’ll write about was shot by an 82 year old man.  He missed six times but the seventh shot struck home.  It was the late Rev. Stacy Groscup and at age 82 he was still able to shoot aspirin tablets from mid air. I had invited him to be with me at a local sports show.  It would be our last time on stage together.  Although his first six shots missed, I got a little nervous.  I wondered if he could still see and hit the pills.  After all, at his age most could not.  He proved me wrong when that 7th aspirin was tossed into mid air.  It floated up and Stacy sent a fluflu arrow on it’s way. I watched as the arrow flew towards the pill and all at once I heard a “click” as the dust flew and Stacy’s arrow collided with the pill!  Amazing huh?  Although many 82 year olds take aspirin, Stacy was still shooting them!  Sadly he’d pass away about two short years later.  I have many fine memories of arrows we launched together over the years.  I just wish he would have lived to see my son Gus sending arrows down range.  I know he would have loved that.
 
This Fall I am going to visit with friends Dick and Carol Mauch while doing exhibitions in Nebraska.  I look forward to watching some arrows glide over the fields at their beloved Plum Creek Cabin.  Pop and I are due to be at King ranch in the late Fall too.  I hope this time to watch his arrow fly true and hit it’s mark. Hoping my arrow finds it’s mark too on one of those big So Texas whitetails.  You can see I’m already looking forward to arrows flying this Fall.  I suppose I’m hooked on this sport we call archery.
 
I have enjoyed reliving some of these stories today as I banged out this column.  There’s nothing finer than writing about the flight of an arrow if you can’t be out there shooting arrows.  Speaking of that, I think I’ll head out to the target and fling a few arrows before dark.  Thanks for reading, send me an email if you have some special memories of the flight of the arrow.  Oh, and be sure and pass along your passion for this sport to others around you.  Why should we have all the fun?
 
 
Until next time, Adios and God Bless.
Shoot Straight,
Frank
 

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5 (0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by sarah on 25 Jul 2010

Tell me what you think of my artical. thanks!

 

HI! im sarah and im fifteen(:  i wrote this for huntinglife.com it got accepted and also got me on their prostaff. i was thinking about sending it to eastmans. tell me what you guys think.

The big day, October 2nd is here. The leaves are green with hints of yellow and the air is warm.  I hike through the woods to my tree stand; the warm air smothers me with a feeling of peace. Getting away from the grind of life and into the woods for a few hours brings me to an absolute bliss.  Although the weather is pleasant I get cold chills because the feelings the outdoors brings to me.  Even if I do not bring a deer home with me, I will not return home low-spirited but I will feel cleansed and refreshed. As the season goes by, I may kill a few deer but that’s not all that brings me excitement. Just seeing nature’s changes is enough to thrill me. Watching the leaves go from green, to yellow, orange, and red, then watching them slowly disappear off the trees and the ground transform into a red, orange, and yellow mixture. I’ve learned the beauty of the hunt can be just an exciting as the kill itself.

As a child, responsibility isn’t a strong point. But it may be gained much faster and stronger if the child hunts. Hunting is a sport that involves weapons and they can’t be treated as toys.  And as a child I was taught to treat every gun as if it was loaded.  I’ve learned patience and how to be stealthy. Learning all the ways to hunt such as walking quietly by rolling you foot, when to be ready to draw back, when to stand up, how to correctly use deer estrus, how to scan the area in search for deer, and many other difficult techniques.  I remember to practice these each time I go out and hunt. I want every technique I know to be mastered.  

Hunting has taught me about respect. Not the yes sir and no ma’am kind of respect that I was taught when I was young. But I have learned to respect the outdoors, to respect my states laws and people who own the land I hunt on.  I put myself in the landowners position and think “I wouldn’t enjoy people disrespecting my land.” And I remember to treat others as I would like to be treated. Wildlife is beautiful and I see it on TV getting ruined by oil spills or enormous clear-cuts.  It hurts me to think of all the beauty that humans are destroying through their greediness.  The woods that I know will never vanish in my generation are my sanctuary.  And I sympathize for the people who can’t enjoy the forest or animals in the wild because they live in the city. They just don’t understand how hunting truly can change a person’s life. 

My dad and I have bonded tremendously through the outdoors. We fish, hike, hunt, or anything else we can find that’s outside.  Really, all our time spent together is doing these activities.  He has taught me a lot of things from tying a strong slip-knot for fishing to how to shoot my boy correctly. My Granddad has also taught me many useful things. He owned a sporting goods store in the seventies and he was also a park ranger, he goes to Montana to shoot prairie dogs once a year and buys me books and magazines to help me learn as much as I can.  My granddad takes me out to the rifle range and we shoot skeet, pistols, and rifles. All the old men up there let me try out there guns. Without my dad and granddad I doubt I would know all I do. And without the outdoors, I wouldn’t be nearly as close with them as I am.

Another of the many great traits I have gained from the outdoors is hard work pays off.  Two years ago on my first hunting trip alone I missed a doe. I blame it on myself because I hadn’t practiced like I should have. That disappointment lit me up and I was determined to be the best shot I could be. All summer I shot and shot. Finally the chance came for me to prove that my hard work actually meant something. I shot at my second deer at 42 yards while standing on my knees, turned around backwards in my tree stand. My heart sank; I knew I had shot to low and missed. I pulled out my cell phone and called my dad to tell him to help me look for my arrow, it could be anywhere. He came down to the clearing where I had shot and we looked a long time for that arrow that was nowhere to be seen. I searched and searched, but I found something a million times better than an arrow. Blood.  A smile hit my face so hard that I couldn’t even speak. My dad noticed and he looked at me like I was crazy. I found the words and told him about what I spotted. That was the start of our night. I had barely nicked the lungs and he ran a little ways but eventually we found him. A little spike but I didn’t care; I had a kill under my belt. I was so proud.

Hunting isn’t for everyone, but if you love it and get out there you can learn some of the most important qualities a person can earn in their life. The beauty of nature, responsibility, respect, the value of family and friends, and that hard work truly does pay off. These aren’t the only things a hunter can learn, but they are some of the most precious characteristics.

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5 (0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by admin on 15 Jun 2010

1st Annual Old West Invitational Turkey Shoot Held in Hulett, Wyoming by Frank Addington, jr.

1st Annual Old West Invitational Turkey Shoot Held in Hulett, Wyoming
by Frank Addington, jr.

“The mission of the Wildlife Heritage Foundation of Wyoming is to create an enduring natural legacy for future generations through stewardship of all Wyoming’s wildlife.”
 
That mission statement is on the Wildlife Heritage Foundation of Wyoming’s website.   I was familiar with their work and when an invitation to participate in their first ever “Old West Invitational Turkey Shoot” came from my pal Dave Lockman, I absolutely said “Yes.”  I thoroughly believe in the work the foundation does to promote shooting sports and hunting to the next generation.   It is a program that many states should follow to ensure future generations follow our tracks into the outdoors.  We must be good stewards of the land and pass that along to the next generation.  
 
Dave Lockman is involved with the Weatherby Foundation International, which provides seed money to help non profit EXPOS around the country.  These Expos are a great way to recruit families and the next generation into the shooting and Hunting Sports.  So  the goals of the Weatherby Foundation and the WHF are very similar. I’ve long been an advocate of the EXPO concept and I first became aware of the WHF while attending an Expo in Casper, Wyoming. 
 
The One Shot Turkey Hunt was the first annual event and I was honored to be the first bowhunter invited.  So when I put the team together I asked my father and family friend Jim Wynne to join me.  We were the only bowhunters at the “first shot” event,  everyone else would be using a shotgun.  The town of Hulett’s population is about 400 give or take a few people, and this little western town was full of good folks.  The event took place near Devil’s Tower and thanks to president Teddy Roosevelt who made it our country’s first national monument.  I could see Devil’s Tower each morning from where our blind was set up, what a beautiful view.

Hunter’s would have special opportunities to attend banquets, social events and other activities during the two day hunt.   Highlights of the trip for me included meeting former Wyoming Governor Sullivan.  The former Governor even bought my breakfast at the Ponderosa restaurant in town.  He got an invite to come to West Virginia and I hope he’ll visit.  I also met many local folks from the area that I enjoyed visiting with including Mr. Jim Neiman, who owns a local sawmill business and golf course. Mr. Neiman is 80 years young and acts 40.  I really enjoyed talking with him.  I also was honored to spend some time talking to Jack Scarlett, who has been involved with the famed One Shot Antelope Hunt in Wyoming.  Turns out Fred and Henrietta Bear were friends of Mr. Scarlett’s family and Fred had been to his ranch to hunt.  Mr. Scarlett and I shared some Fred Bear anecdotes and stories and I really had a great time talking with him.  He was a mutual friend of Dave Lockman’s.  I’ve found that just about anyone that’s a friend of Dave’s is “good people”.  
 
My father and Jim Wynne joined me to make up our “archery team”.   We stayed with Dave Lockman out at the bunk house at the Solitude Ranch.  There was a bath house, cook shack with a lounge area with satellite TV, and a grill on the deck.  Dave and Janet Lockman brought a special request for me… an order of Rocky Mountain Oysters.  We warmed them in the microwave and enjoyed them with homemade hamburgers one day.  I laughed as Jim Wynne and Pop tried this delicacy for the first time.   Dave got me hooked on them many years ago in Casper, Wyoming at Poor Boys.  I’ve had them in Denver, Colorado at the Buckhorn, at Cattleman’s Cut in Montana.  and at Cattleman’s in the Oklahoma City Stockyards.   If you have never tried them I would suggest you do so when in cowboy country.   They are great when properly prepared.
 
Jim bought a target on the way to Hulett so that we could take some warm up shots in camp.  Mid day that first day I warmed up with a few shots.   I put a dandelion on the target walked back to 20 yards.   As an instinctive shooter I wanted to see how my new Hoyt Vantage LTD was shooting.  I had the bow set down to 52# for this hunt and was shooting Easton arrows with Muzzy 145 grain heads.  I prefer a side quiver to a bow quiver and use a vintage Chuck Adams leather side quiver, circa 1992 or so.   I removed an arrow from my quiver, drew the bow and when my pointer finger touched the corner of my mouth I released the arrow.   I saw yellow fly everywhere as the Muzzy head shaved the dandelion in two.  I shot one more arrow at the target and decided that I was ready for a turkey if the right shot presented itself.  I think the guide was shocked when he didn’t see a sight on my bow.
 
Our guide knew the Solitude ranch and had us in birds right off opening morning.  However, the old boss gobbler wouldn’t come closer.  He stayed out about 40 yards.  The guide had only brought a slate call and really didn’t fool with diaphragm calls or box calls.  Luckily Pop had a turkey vest full of calls and decoys.  He would also call in some birds during the two days.  We hunted hard for the two days and called from a blind and also did a few quick set ups while doing some afternoon spot and stalks.   On the second morning we were in a different set up.  The birds came in but the two gobblers stayed out about 40 yards again.  This time after they left I discovered the problem— an old fence line that you could not see in early light.  
 
While the guide napped pop and I still hunted down the ridge and set up on four gobblers.  Pop was working the birds when two hens ran in and left taking all four of the gobblers with them.    Having hunted eastern turkey most of my life, typically you can call the hen in and she will bring the gobblers with her.  In Wyoming, these merriam gobblers seemed a little easier to hunt but the hens were the problem.  Several times a jealous hen would run in and take the gobblers away when she left.  None of the three of us bowhunters drew a bow in the two days.  We all agreed that it would have been nice to have had another day or two but the hunt ended with a big banquet Saturday night.
 
This was a “one shot” hunt, meaning you only get one shot.  If you missed or if the turkey required a second shot you were disqualified from the competition.  Scoring was based on the weight, beard length doubled, and spur length doubled.    I believe about 39 birds were bagged out of aprx. 70 hunters.  There were smiles every where Saturday night so I believe everyone had a great time.  I was impressed when I saw companies like Remington play such a large supporting role in this hunt.  They provided about 17 guns for the event and ammunition.  The two youngest hunters on the team received free shotguns.  A special presentation was also made to a young man who had recently lost his grandfather, who had promised to take the young man turkey hunting.  His grandfather had just passed away and would not be taking the youngster hunting.  When this young man was presented a gun and an opportunity to be taken hunting, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. I really appreciate companies like Remington and Weatherby who give back to try and ensure hunting is passed on to future generations. 
 
This event wasn’t really about the “celebrities”.  It was about seeing these youngsters encouraged and recognized.  To me they were the real celebrities of the weekend.  I appreciate all that the WHF,  supporting businesses and companies, and volunteers did to make this first time event a huge success.  It was a great time and if you get an invitation to support or attend this event, please do so.  They are doing good things in Wyoming and I was proud to be the first archer invited.   If you do go, take some warm clothes for the early Wyoming mornings, a camera for the views, and be ready to meet some fine folks. 

Although a dandelion is all I had bagged in two days of hunting,  my hunt was a huge success.  Like Fred Bear, to me the success of a hunt isn’t always measured by the game taken.  I’d been able to spend valuable time with my father bowhunting, hang out with old pals Jim Wynne, Dave and Janet Lockman, and meet a bunch of new friends.  I enjoyed good food and good company and breath taking views.  I’d seen a huge amount of gobblers, a coyote, countless whitetail deer, mule deer, antelope and other game. My dandelion would have to serve as my trophy until my next adventure into the Black Hills of Wyoming.  I hope one day to take my son Gus there to see the sights and meet the people.  He’s only three but one day soon he’ll be old enough to join me.  I hope he’ll enjoy time with me as much as I enjoyed hunting with my father.
 
Thanks Hulett, Wyoming. I’ll be back.
 
***************************************************************************************************************************************************
 
 It is clear that the Wildlife Heritage Foundation of Wyoming is dedicated to promoting hunting and wise use of our natural resources to the next generation.   To learn more, please visit:
 
Special thanks to Dave and Janet Lockman, Hoyt, Muzzy, Robinson Outdoors, Easton and my other sponsors.  Also, thanks to the WHF, Solitude ranch, and every one of the staff and volunteers for this event. 

Visit my show website at:

Thanks for reading.  Until next time, Adios and God Bless.
Shoot Straight,
Frank
 
Frank Addington, Jr.
The Aspirin Buster

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5 (0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by admin on 14 Jun 2010

PORKMANDO by Ted Nugent

 

PORKMANDO 
by Ted Nugent
 
I stink. I mean really, really stink, like ultra PU bad. There is a putrid, rank musky essence to my very being that repels all living things, except other stinky things. And what really stinks, I actually like it. You see, I just ambushed, killed, gutted, dragged, photographed and heaved a most beautiful four hundred plus pound nasty mud soaked, urine saturated monster Austrian boar out of my rain soaked forest in Michigan, then hugged the beast lovingly for photos, then I helped lift him onto my truck bed and hang his bloody carcass in my Polar King walk in cooler for the night. I am one, bloody, muddy, sweaty, soaked, stinky happy bowhunting idiot, and I couldn’t be happier. I love bowhunting for wild boar, and tonight was the night of nights. I can hardly stand myself. I smell wild.
 
It all came about rather abruptly as I was unpacking my bowhunting safari gear from a nonstop global bowhunting dream excursion that took me to South Africa for plains game, back to Ontario, Canada for another black bear, up to the glorious wilds of Northern Wisconsin for a giant whitetail and back to my ancestral Michigan swamplands for the continuing backstrap saga.
 
Still dizzy with a sense of drained exhaustion, I figured there was no way I could hunt today due to the heavy rains pelting my pole barn since early morning. As I stepped to the barn door to shoot some arrows from my new Martin AlienX compound bow, I was surprised to see a patch of lighter sky and a temporary halt to the rainstorm. Aha! An opening to go for it!
 
I immediately called BigJim, my main VidCamDude for our Spirit of the Wild TV show, and the hunt was on.
 
We tossed bows, arrows, boots, camo, vidcams and raingear into the truck and put the peddle to the metal Baja’ing for the old Nugent family game rich hunting grounds at Sunrize Acres in Jackson County, Michigan. It had been months since I had been there, and I was hankering for a hopeful rendezvous with our amazing pure Austrian wild boar that run wild there. My last three hunts there were porkless, and I was determined to end my skunking on my own wild boar preserve. It didn’t make sense. I have owned and hunted this incredible piece of southern Michigan farm country for more than forty years, knew it intimately, loved it wildly and knew it was just a matter of time before I picked the right place at the right time.
 
Though there are those ignorant loonies who refer to game preserves as “canned hunts”, those of us with any experience at all know all too well how foolish such an assumption is. Hogs are hogs and hunting is always hunting. Fact of the matter is, my hunting journals prove that far more hog killing opportunities have occurred on unfenced hog grounds in Texas, Georgia, Florida, California and Hawaii than on Sunrize Acres. There is no fair chase. The hogs cheat.
Jim and I chose a double ladderstand at the edge of a woodland waterhole where we had planted a variety of food plot seeds along the eroded banks. The entire shoreline of the pond was rooted up, tracked up and wollowed up. It was clearly hog heaven.
 
We chummed up the best shooting locations with C’Mere Deer and Three Day Harvest bait, then settled in hoping the rain would hold off till after dark.
 
Three hours later I was figuring my skunking would continue, when Jim tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the open fields to the east where plenty of daylight remained.
 
Even at 75 yards it was evident that this was one amazing boar. The beast stood like a defiant, grizzled statue looking into the darker woods, then would take a few cautious steps before pausing to examine his domain again. As the giant hog approached the edge of the woods, he began rubbing his long, silver and brindled coat on a maple sapling, causing the four inch tree to wobble violently, the leafy canopy shaking back and forth to the rhythm of the pigs torqueing mass. At forty yards, he paused again, then slowly ambled to the edge of the mud for a noisy slurp of water.
 
I was poised for a shot if he gave it to me, but fortunately after a few guzzles of murky pond scum he headed our way with his nose full of C’Mere Deer. Luck turned bad as the huge boar fed directly behind the tree for what seemed forever, offering no shot whatsoever. Light was fading and time was running out. Jim filmed, I waited.
 
I very quietly asked Jim if he still had decent vidcam light when the beautiful pig turned slowly to its right and began to walk off. As is nearly always the case, he stopped again with a large tree covering his vitals. Jim filmed, I waited.
 
Instantly he took a step forward clearing the tree and I drew back my arrow, picked a spot and let er rip in a flash. Speaking of flash, the tracer round light trail of my Lumenok was a beautiful thing to behold in the misty dusk of the dark woods, as my arrow zipped across the 35 yards and sliced into the boar’s left hip, angling hard into his chest.
 
With a squeal and a deep grunt, he sprung into action as I nocked my second arrow just as swiftly. He floundered at his rubbing tree where my second arrow intercepted him midship, the glowing Lumenok’s telltale impact clearly visible.
 
It all happened so fast, I wasn’t sure if either arrow was on course for a double lung kill shot, so Jim and I climbed down and tip toed to where the second arrow connected. As I picked up arrow number two by the glowing Lumenok, I simultaneously saw and heard the boar just 20 yards ahead as it flopped his last flop in the deep weeds and grasses just outside the forest edge.
I was ecstatic! The beast is dead long live the beast! Jim and I danced a little pig jig for a not so little pig, dragged the behemoth out into the clearing, and paid our last respects for this gorgeous runaway BBQ locomotive on the hoof on film.
 
This old warrior was the essence of wild boarness. Over 400 pounds, long, gnarly, course silver, grey and calico hairs, deep heavy chest, long narrow hips with a elongated snout, singing, rangy tail and some pretty handsome ivory protruding from his prehistoric proboscis. And of the defining factor for all pigdom-the nostril flaring aroma of the whole ordeal.
 
Here’s the not so stinky part: even though this old boar was so ugly he was beautiful, and the olfactory stimuli was for true swine lovers only, do not think for a moment that all this adds up to unpalatable table fare. On the contrary, it is my personal experience and that of hundreds upon hundreds of fellow hog hunters I have guided and or hunted with myself, that even from these old bruisers, the pork is delicious.
 
I gutted him thoroughly, hosed him out clean, hung him by the snout in my Polar King cooler overnight so that all blood and fluids drained completely out of him, skinned him carefully, removing every last hair from the carcass, then took him to Joe Nagle, a gung-ho dedicated professional butcher in Homer, Michigan, where the beast was lovingly and ultra cleanly cut up into family sized portions with tender loving care.
 
Clean and cold is IT for quality BBQ pork my friends. Most of the white fat is trimmed off the meat, but wild pork fat is clean, organic and sweet, so don’t trim it all off, do keep some on for cooking ease and flavor. The rewards on the grill are so worth the effort we put forth when we hunt hard for those always thrilling hunting encounters.
 
To book a hunt for a pure Austrian wild boar, visit tednugent.com or contact SUNRIZE SAFARIS at 517-750-9060.
 
On this hunt, Ted used his Martin Rytera AlienX bow set at 50#, a 400 grain GoldTip Nuge arrow tipped with a 100 grain Magnus BuzzCut 4 blade, Sims LimbSavers, sight, drop away arrow rests and accessories, Scott release, Bushnell optics, Mossy Oak ScentLok clothing, Boggs rubber boots, Old Man ladderstand, Hunter Safety System vest, Code Blue scents, C’Mere Deer powder and 3 Day Harvest, Outdoor Edge SwingBlade, Glenn’s Deer Handle, Polar King cooler, Bad Boy buggy.

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5 (0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by ejon on 29 May 2010

THE BIG ONE… AND ANOTHER ONE!

Last year, I knocked down one of the biggest bucks I’d ever seen from my favorite hunting area… or so I thought?!

It was the last day of the 2009 hunting season. The plan was to try and  fill my last doe tag. I still had a tag left for a monster buck too, but that was not the plan.

As the clock was winding down on one of the coldest Michigan days of hunting I could ever remember, it seemed like everything was falling right into place. So I waited… and waited… nothing. For hours, I sat in my tree stand, posturing quietly. It was everything I could do to keep the feeling in my toes (and my backside) from chasing me out of my tree. Finally, I gave in… twenty minutes of daylight left …I was done.

I gathered up all of my gear, climbed down from my tree and headed back to the warming shed to meet up with my hunting buddies to reflect on another great season.

As I turned back to look over the area where I just left one last time, I noticed some movement. There she was… the one beautiful doe that would have filled my ticket. As I began to laugh in disbelief– there was another one. Then, a buck… looked like a six-pointer. Then another one… and another. Holy Crap! Suddenly, out of the shadows of the treeline, there he stood… a majestic monster. Like a parade of nobility all on display for me to see. “Why couldn’t I hold out just a little while longer?”

Well, it’s the end of May… still thinking about that moment at the end of the season when I gave in.

So for this coming season, I have made a pact with myself– I will try to last a little longer on those days when I feel like leaving. I will pick up some warmer clothing to be better prepared for battle.  More important, I will always remember this,  “…it’s why they call it HUNTING– NOT gathering!”

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5 (0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.
Loading...

Published by archerchick on 24 Mar 2010

Bowhunting Superman -Archie Nesbitt – By Jason Butler

Bowhunting Superman Archie Nesbitt – By Jason Butler

Bowhunting World 2006-2007

He’s been called “Canada’s Premier Bowhunter,” and in many ways Archie Nesbitt is the most-accomplished bowhunter who ever lived.

Bowhunting World Annual 2006-2007

With a bow in his hand and an animal to hunt,
Archie Nesbitt is a happy man. Hunting is in his blood. In fact, the Calgary, Alberta, bowhunting fanatic feels best when trudging through the forest or desert. “I’ve been chasing animals all over the place for the last 30 years,” says the
super-friendly attorney. “Long ago I thought
to myself that if you can hunt it, I want to try, it.” Thirty years and counting he’s stuck to that notion like glue. And, boy-oh-boy, have the animals piled up.

“I never stop thinking about bowhunting,” he says. “It’s  just tons of fun and I’ve never thought there was such a thing as ‘kicking back.’ Of course, I travel extensively with my job, so that
certainly makes things convenient'”  Nesbitt is a bowhunting fanatic for a very simple reason: Challenge. His attitude blends determination and focus into what he loves best. Once You get to know a little about the man, it’s easy to see just how true that is.

Nesbitt, 54, was born to hunt. Growing up as a kid in the wilds of eastern Canada, his family gun hunted to eat much of the time, shooting moose and caribou for their plentiful meat. By age 15,
Nesbitt shot his first big-game animal with a bow, immediately becoming infatuated with the aesthetics of archery. With that single animal his passion was born.

Even back when bows were pretty crude, Nesbitt took animals cleanly, thanks to his sharp shooting and hunting skills. He spent every spare moment he had scouting, hunting, and honing his skills, shooting arrows behind the house. A decade later Nesbitt graduated from
law school and became involved in corporate mining exploration and mineral resources development around the globe. This successful career would reinvigorate his passion and take his bowhunting to a whole new level.

Triple Slammer
Nesbitt’s bowhunting resume reads like a Donald Trump memoir on real estate. He has taken more animals with archery gear than any other hunter, alive or dead. Jon Shepley, vice president of sales and marketing for PSE archery, knows Nesbitt well. “This guy is the undisputed most-successful bowhunter on the planet,” Shepley states. “He’s arrowed quadruple the number of animals compared to any other bowhunter out there. It would be difficult for someone who is just retired with unlimited resources and time to hunt the animals he has successfully.”

To put that into perspective, consider this: In 2001, Nesbitt became the sixth man to make the North American Super Slam, harvesting all 28 species of North American big game recognized by the Pope & Young Club. More recently, however, he became the sole bowhunter to take the triple Slam, a tremendous accomplishment.

The Triple Slam consists of four separate North American sheep species, 12 additional sheep species from around the world, and 12 additional species of goats from around the world. This feat is recognized by the Grand Slam
Club/Ovis.  At a conference in early ’06, the Grand Slam Club awarded Nesbitt a certificate and congratulations for his unprecedented achievement.

However, for his Triple Slam, much like the Super Slam, Nesbitt did not start out hunting these animals with a “slam” in mind. “After several decades of hunting a whole bunch of animals, things just sort of ended up that way,” says Nesbitt. “This took many hunts and much energy. I didn’t get all of these animals the first time out. For many of them I had to go back a number of times.”  But the “slams” are just the tip of the iceberg. Nesbitt currently holds 46 combined world records recognized by Safari
Club International (SCI) from North America and around the world. His tally of Pope & Young animals nearly reaches triple digits; many are listed in the top 10.  In North America alone Nesbitt’s tally includes: two polar bear; a 1O-foot, 3-inch brown bear in Alaska; two Dall
sheep; a grizzly bear in British Columbia; two bighorn sheep; three musk-ox; a Shiras moose in Utah that was the state record for 15 years; truckloads of deer; the SCI world record Roosevelt elk on Vancouver Island; and more moose and caribou than some see in a lifetime. In Africa, the list gets longer.

Africa is one of Nesbitt’s favorite bowhunting destinations. In approximately 20 trips to eight countries, his list includes: four Cape buffalo; two Western buffalo; three lions; three leopards; two hippos; an elephant; a crocodile; and
hundreds of plains game. Nesbitt says that everybody should experience Africa at least once.

“Africa is magical. You see so many animals up close that it’s just incredible.  I’ve been fortunate to arrow a pile of different game over there. and I tell you I never grow tired of it. You can go over and shoot eight to 10 animals for a reasonable price. Usually l take my family and make a good vacation out of it. I’m always thinking about Africa!”
In other parts of the world, his list is even more mind-boggling. Abroad he
has hunted in 20 countries-Spain, New Zealand, China, Pakistan, and Iran,
just to name a few—-on six continents’  He once hunted for a solid month in North Africa atop camels. In Kyrgyzstan, he spent three three weeks hunting Marco Polo sheep and Ibex at 15,000 feet.  On hunts like these, there’s no room for error.

A few years back Nesbitt was planning a two-week hunt in the Middle East.  Because of the unstable political situation, it’s not a place many hunters would want to go these days. Naturally, he called some colleagues to see if they wanted to tag along-But all told him he was nuts. Yet, that didn’t dampen his parade one bit. He went alone, despite their hesitation, and bloodied up a few arrows. lt went over without a hitch.

So, with all these accomplishments under his belt, why haven’t you seen Nesbitt’s face plastered all over archery magazines and advertisements? Nesbitt has very few ties to the archery- industry.  He is a PSE pro staffer. “I started shooting PSE bows,around 1980.  When PSE founder and innovator Pete Shepley approached me in the mid’90s to ask me to join the pro staff there,  I was more than happy. I’d already been using his product for almost 20 years. I really think he is an archery pioneer, and I was happy to come aboard.”

With a PSE bow in hand, most of Nesbitt’s hunts have run smoothly, but predictably, there are exceptions. There was the time when a big musk-ox busted out of the large pack and charged
toward him like a freight train. Reacting quickly and jumping sideways for dear life, Nesbitt walked away after the animal missed him by mere inches. In Alaska, ominous grizzly bears have popped their teeth and circled at spitting distance many times.

These incidents were dicey. But encounters with elephants in Africa were cutting hairs, situations Nesbitt considers much more frightening. “For my money, the most dangerous animal on the planet is an elephant,” he says. “Elephants have the temperament of a junkyard dog, and when they charge you better start praying. I came within 4 to 5 feet of sheer disaster a couple of times. I finally killed an elephant in 2OO2 using a custom 100 pound-draw weight bow. I was thrilled!”

“In A League Of His Own”
The Pope & Young Club recognizes 28 species of big game. But Nesbitt’s North American resume reveals that he’s done them a few animals better with 32 species. Pope & Young Records Chairman Glen Hisey says, “Nesbitt is in a league of his own. It’s hard to fathom how a guy can hunt so much and be so darn good at it.
I know a lot of successful bowhunters.  And, believe me, none of them are close
to walking in his shoes.”

Just how many animals can one guy kill? Well, out of the other species Nesbitt has bow bagged on our continent, the Boone & Crockett Club recognizes two of them. The first is a Boone &
Crockett Tule elk from California. The latter is a Boone & Crockett Atlantic walrus. Nebitt’s is the biggest ever shot by a hunter-gun or bow.

Natives have found bigger walruses that died by natural causes. However, the few gun-shot animals pale in comparison to Nesbitt’s. He’s also shot lynx and bobcat with broadheads. No record keeping organization claims these. They say they can’t justify it because they can’t tell 100 percent whether the animals were trapped or nor. Nesbitt has a handful of witnesses to prove it.

NEXT?
For a man who has bowhunted and shot just about everything under the sun, what’s next? For Nesbitt, there’s no letting off the throttle. “Over the next several years I plan to concentrate on
several species of Asian sheep, the ibex and argali. Also elk and mule deer around home will get plenty of attention. They’re my favorite North American animals to bowhunt, and I can chase both right out of my back door.”

Nesbitt is very involved with SCI and has been for the past 12 years. He considers the organization outstanding and a great support for hunters.

Currently he’s the Alberta chapter president. “I’ve got some great friends in SCI. I plan on being affiliated with this community for a long time.”

Archie Nesbitt is a hunting machine, a pure predator on two legs. Many call him “Canada’s Premier Bowhunter.” His considerable accomplishments aside, the bottom line is that Archie Nesbitt hunts for personal enjoyment and fulfillment, not for sponsor money or bragging
rights. It’s that simple. You can’t help but appreciate a guy like that.

Archived by

ARCHERYTALK.COM

all rights reserved

Bad Behavior has blocked 411 access attempts in the last 7 days.