Wolf Premium Oil Review (All in one Gun Cleaner & Oil)

 

So let me be honest here…I hate cleaning guns. I know it’s necessary and important but I almost always find a way to “let” my husband do it for one simple reason-the smell. The solvent we use is intoxicating and overwhelming. I usually have to leave the house because it will lead to migraines and then the smell lingers for days inside. Cleaning them outside is pointless with all the dirt and dust flying around so I just have to suck it up and do it.

The first thing I did when I received the oil was open it up and smell it. I tried to smell anything but couldn’t. WHAT? You mean I will be able to clean my gun without my eyes burning or getting a headache? But would it work?

I decided to use the gun oil and cleaner on my Savage 25-06. It doesn’t get used often, maybe once or twice a year during doe management at the end of the season and I wasn’t even sure when it had last been cleaned but I knew I used it a few weekends ago on a doe. Previous reviews have said to use your original cleaner first and then try Wolf Premium Oils but after the aforementioned smell issues I had to pass on that and go straight for the Wolf Oil.

For a ‘clean-ish’ gun with only a few rounds fired in the last few years I wasn’t expecting much. I was impressed with the consistency of the oil; it wasn’t too thick but it also didn’t spill everywhere or get all over my hands when I was applying it to the cleaning patches. It absorbed well on the patches and didn’t require much oil. As I ran the patches down the barrel I was surprised to see the amount of dirt that kept coming out of it. 

 

After 7 patches I finally got a nearly clean one and was very satisfied with the lack of oil over everything around me. Sometimes things can get messy with spilled cleaners or solvents but even the 3 times I knocked over the bottle I didn’t spill anything so that was an added bonus in my book! The oil not only did its job cleaning the inside of the barrel and action but also helped remove all the build-up on the outside as well. 

Bottom line – the stuff works, it doesn’t smell, it isn’t messy, it’s Made in the USA and now I am actually excited to clean my guns without a getting a headache or passing out from the smell! Bravo Wolf Premium Oils, bravo.

Check them out here: www.wolfpremiumoils.com

A Dandy Dirty Doe

2015 started off with a trip to Deep South Texas for a hunting trip with some friends. We had hunted this part of Texas before but never this exact spot so we took 4 pop-up blinds to help keep us mobile for changing deer patterns. Most of the set-ups already there were for rifle hunting so we needed to be prepared. The forecast was for rain, rain, cold, and more rain.

On New Year’s Eve we made our way south nearing the Texas/Mexico border; the rain had made the roads extremely sloppy and our trip took a nasty turn when our truck and flatbed trailer with the Gator on it slid off the road into a small ditch. It was a mess. We had to unload the Gator to use it to pull the truck and trailer out of the hole, all while it was 36 degrees and raining. Needless to say after a lot of messy, muddy work we finally made it to deer camp, completely soaked and covered in mud, but still excited to hunt.

 

The next morning we headed out to scout a few spots for blinds and found a some senderos that looked promising. After a few hunts with no success we moved one of the blinds to a sendero with a feeder on it. The brush in South Texas is extremely thick leaving only small roads or senderos to hunt, therefore baiting is almost necessary. Regardless of hunting over bait, this wasn’t going to be an easy task. We set up the ground blind in the new spot and brushed it in completely. I knew these deer were going to notice this new “bush” in the road but had to take my chances; leaving only a tiny opening for a shooting window I had to be as concealed as possible knowing these deer would be on high alert. I was 30 yards from the feeder and we had thrown out more corn in the road to help.

As I watched birds scurry about it was 5:15pm when I saw a very large doe step out into the road 17 yards away. The brush is so thick you cannot see the deer walking toward you or if they are in your area unless you are elevated in a blind rifle hunting. The trees aren’t tall enough to put stands in to bow hunt out of but the brush is just high enough to cover the heads of deer. The windows of opportunity bow hunting here were slim. As she stepped out, she immediately looked at my brushed-in blind and walked back in the brush. My heart started racing because for the brief moment I saw the front legs and chest of this doe, I knew she was a big, mature doe and was ready. I steadied my bow and waited for her to calm down and hopefully make a return appearance.

 

As I tried to calm my breathing and nerves she came back out into the road and headed to the corn. I decided to give her a little time to get comfortable (animals are always more alert when eating) before I took the shot. She finally turned completely broadside as I drew and released. I saw my arrow fall out the other side of her as she darted into the thick brush. I was shaking and just knew I had made a good shot. As I went to nock another arrow my heart sank. A bobcat crossed the road and stopped for a brief second (not long enough to get my bow drawn again) and headed in the direction of my doe.

 

Just my luck. (I have mentioned before that I have never shot and recovered a deer while bow hunting during a morning hunt. All of my kills have been afternoon or evening hunts where tracking and recovery is usually after dark or at dusk). It was raining, foggy, only 45 minutes until dark, and a bobcat was traveling in the same direction as my doe. So I prayed. Then I text my husband and a few friends to pray for a quick expiration and hope that the bobcat didn’t run my doe into another county or start destroying her. I was torn between going to search for her and keep the bobcat off of her or wait the full 30 minutes. I compromised instead.

 

I exited the blind quietly to check the impact site and arrow for blood to determine my shot. There was blood where I had hit her and my arrow had bubbly blood on it. I had a feeling she probably ducked a little when I shot and hit lungs instead of heart but I was confident after seeing the arrow and blood at impact site as well as blood on the cactus right on the edge of the road. I sat back in the blind and prayed again that the rain wouldn’t wash away the blood and this would be a quick recovery. I waited about 25 minutes and decided to go look before I lost light.

 

I only took my pistol because the brush was so thick I was going to be crawling on hands and knees and didn’t want my string getting cut by cactus, mesquite thorns, and everything else that sticks and stabs. I knew I had to be ready to shoot a bobcat that might have started his dinner on my doe and possibly recruited others. The tracking process was about 15 minutes, mostly because getting through the brush was so thick and the blood was deceiving because of the rain. I was alone because my husband was still hunting and I didn’t want him to miss an opportunity but I knew I couldn’t wait for him.

There she was, about 50 yards from where I had shot her. I could see her, but couldn’t immediately get to her because of the brush. I looked around for a hungry kitty cat but was relieved when I was alone. My eyes began to fill with tears and I tried to jump up and down and do my victory dance but the brush was so thick I cut myself on some thorns and stuck myself with cactus instead (well worth it).

I finally made my way to her and realized since I had been crawling and finding ways through the brush tracking blood, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was anymore or how close to the road I was. I tried to drag her but without my game hauler I wasn’t going to get far. Light was fading fast and the rain was steady; I had 3 flashlights with me (red, white, and green) so I left the white light with the doe pointing upward for a marker and attempted to make my way back to the road. My husband and friend were now on their way to me and somehow I made a quick exit to the road, pushing through thick brush getting cut up more. When I saw them walking towards me I ran to my husband crying and laughing with excitement and we embraced for that amazing moment we live for.

 

As we walked the road we found my white light and realized she was only about 15 yards from the road! We recovered her and headed back to camp to weigh the big girl. She was 130 pounds of beautiful venison, although completely soaked and covered in mud. I know that may not seem like a big deer to my Northern friends but in the Texas Hill Country a big doe is 90 pounds making this southern girl a fatty! She was my biggest doe taken with a bow and I was ecstatic to share another hunting moment with my husband and great friends. We were so blessed to hunt on their ranch and leave with an ice chest full of meat! That was one dandy dirty doe!

I also stayed true to one of my New Year's Lifestyle changes (not resolutions) and documented the hunt in my Rite in the Rain Notebook!

 

Meet Colleen - Hate Love Relationship with Hunting

A short while ago I ‘met’ someone on Twitter and began a conversation with her. Her name was Colleen and she said something to me that I have never heard a hunter say. She said she HATED hunting. I have heard a lot of women say they disliked it, didn’t know much about it, or just say “it’s not for me” but from her Twitter profile she looked like a hunter in love with every aspect of it. Of course I wanted to know more because there had to be something behind such a strong HATE of hunting.

She sent me her story because I knew I had to get this out to everyone to read and possibly relate to, learn from, and most importantly support her. I’ve read over her words numerous times trying to figure out how to present this on my blog to everyone and realized this - it is not my story to tell, this is hers. I can put it in my own words, edit it or change it to a Q & A session but I think the true meaning and emotion would be removed from her words.

So instead of me writing about her and her story, I think it’s best to let her tell it for you. Please be kind to her words because this was her pouring her emotions and thoughts out and continue to support her the way you always support me.

 

 

Meet Colleen and her Hate & Love Relationship with hunting…

I grew up loving the woods, loving nature, always outdoors, but never ever having anyone in my family hunt. We were the family that would feed bambi & I never understood people that would hunt deer; it seemed inhumane to me. Fast forward to my freshman year in college 11 years ago when I was first introduced to hunting. I started dating this really cute football player who was fun, outgoing, made me laugh, but a hunter, & not just your typical hunter. This guy was into it, his family hunted, & all his friends hunted. We would go to parties and hunting was always a topic that would be brought up, there would be stories about deer camp, talks about who has shot the largest buck, etc. We started dating in the middle of hunting season so one of our first trips back to his house, his friend called and said he shot a monster & wanted us to come down & see it. We pulled up to his friends and out & hanging from a rope in his garage was this adorable buck. My facial expression must have said it all because my now husband looked at me and said, ‘bet you have never seen anything like this before.’ I looked at him and said ‘oh this is cool’, but in my head was like what is wrong with these people, what did this poor animal do to them?!

Needless to say that was just the beginning, as mid-summer came around Derek would always go out to take walks in the woods to look for sheds, put out trail cameras, set stands, & find that tree with rubs around it that looked like it would be a great place to hunt. He would spend hours upon hours doing this kind of stuff, which to me I was thinking ‘why don’t you want to spend time with me, all you have to do is go set up some stupid stand and wait for a deer to come by.’ He would be so excited to go back out & look at the pictures on his trail camera; again something I did not understand, basically none of it ever made sense. 

Fast forward to hunting season, the season I would proclaim I was basically single because all he did, talked about, dreamed about, and thought about was hunting. It was so annoying & bad to me one year that I made him dress up as a deer & me as a hunter for Halloween because I told him that was the only way I would ever get him to notice me. If we argued it was always about hunting, how he would spend Friday nights in so he could wake up early to hunt all day Saturday, how he would come back from hunting all day & then we would have to go to his cousins or friends to see what they shot.  We would walk into these garages, where a bunch of guys were gathered around this deer that was dead, high fiving one another, drinking beer, laughing, telling stories, & just having a good time. I would usually look at these people and think to myself you have got to be kidding me, they call this a sport, and this is a joke & a shame. I was even at a hunting show one time & had 2 men approach me asking if they could tape me hunting; my response was ‘um hunting is dumb, I am only here because my husband hunts, sorry.’ That’s a moment though I now regret more than ever.

Needless to say for NINE years this was my mentality when it came to anytime Derek spoke about it. In 2012 though that all changed. We were out one night & Derek said to me, “want to go hunting with me, I really think you would enjoy it, you can see what it is all about.” I quickly responded with my typical, “no, why would I want to do that?”  But then said you know what I will go with you, just to prove to you how dumb it really is. He got this big smile on his face & said ‘I am telling you, you are going to love it.’  We woke up that Saturday morning, it was 20 degrees out (I hate the cold with a passion), he gave me his hunting clothes, so of course nothing fit right, his hunting boots, which made my feet look like clown feet & was spraying me down with this stuff so deer couldn’t smell me.  I remember it being 5 am and thinking, oh my God why did you wake up for this, just go back to bed, but I went though.

It was the first Saturday of rifle for PA so we went into the woods in the pitch black & finally got to our ground blind.  I just remember how calm it was sitting there in the woods with the sun coming up & the woods coming alive around us & thinking hmmm this is pretty cool. Turkeys were walking by, squirrels everywhere, beautiful birds, & of course a few deer.  This was the day I started to understand what hunting was really all about. Even though Derek did not have any shots at any deer that day, his pap sure did! Derek got a call saying “pap got one, pap got one” from one of his cousins who was also out there with us that day.  We left the ground blind and started walking through the woods to meet up with all his cousins, uncles, dad & pap to go search for this buck. His pap was so excited he could barely catch his breath, it only took a few minutes to track & once we found it, it all clicked. Everyone started high fiving, hugging, congratulating his pap, & then his pap was sitting there taking pictures & telling the story on how he shot it; which from listening to his story I learned it was the first buck at age 78 that he ever shot with a rifle. To be a part of that moment and see a family come together like that & to have everyone be so happy for him was amazing. It showed a moment to me that so many families in this world now lack & that is being together & being happy. I even got to take a picture with this deer just because I was there that day, it was just so cool to have the opportunity to be a part of.

Throughout that year I would continue to go with my husband every Saturday to hunt, it was such an awesome experience & that’s when I decided maybe this is something I wanted to actually give a try too.  I started talking to a great friend of mine who is a hunter too who really encouraged me to start hunting as well; she gave me a push & support I would need to really give it a go.

I told my husband that I wanted to try archery hunting, so we went & got me a bow (with no pink, I hate that color) & got it all set up. When the man at the shop showed me how to shoot it I was like, oh wow what did I get myself in to? It was insane to me how much goes into archery hunting & how hard it really is; I thought you pull the bow back and shoot, but needless to say that is not the case.  Every day after work I would go outside with Derek & practice, practice, practice. I even practiced when he wasn’t there; it was such a challenge & being the first & only female hunter in a family where if you are a guy you literally start hunting the day after you are born, I had to make sure I was ready to go when I got the opportunity. 

2014 was my first year of archery hunting & without the support of my husband & my friend I wouldn’t of had a clue what to do. My husband helped with hanging tree stands, showing me how to do the little things like put a bow holder in the tree, making sure I actually had clothes that fit & kept me warm, because I get cold when it is 50 degrees out.  We went spotting and would walk in to check the trail cams, look for rubs & scraps, we definitely put our time in. I was so excited for the first Saturday of archery I could barely sleep the night before, I felt like a kid the night before Christmas. 

Now came the part that made me respect hunting, I spent 4 weekends in the woods & did not see one deer, no does, no bucks, no nothing. Very quickly it put it into a reality to me that this was not going to be some simple task where I climb up into a tree, & get the opportunity to shoot a deer.  I was really understanding at that point why it is such a sport; not only do you have to hope that you are in the right spot at the right time, but you have to hope that the deer don’t smell you, that they don’t see you, that you actually see them; basically it is not so much harder than any person who has never tried it could ever realize. 

 

It is mentally wearing at times, but so amazing & worth it when you see another hunter finally get their chance to kill a deer.  You know how much they went through, the time they put in, & how things finally worked out in their favor that they got that opportunity,  It is a sport that I have grown to love & respect more than I ever thought possible.   It is a sport that I feel everyone should at one point or another really try because I think a lot of people who feel like I used too would see it like I do now.  See it as a sport, that is time consuming, mentally & physically tough, but oh so rewarding in the end.  It is a sport that can help to bring families together & really help to give people direction. It something where kids can be kids & learn to follow their parents in their guidance in it, something that is not inside & gives them a chance to dedicate themselves too. I did not get a deer this archery season, I actually never even had a chance, but even though I didn’t I really took so much more from it then I could have ever imagined. I can honestly say I love hunting, I love to hear the stories, I love to wake up early to go in my tree stand, I now can’t wait to see trail cam pictures, & want to be the first one to high five whoever’s deer we are going to see. Remember this is all coming from the girl who made her husband dress up as a deer for Halloween & she dressed up as hunter, just so she could be noticed during hunting season for once!

 

FOLLOW HER ON TWITTER @CBrletich

My MacGyver Moment

 

 

I always try to be as safe as possible when I am in the field, but sometimes things just happen; whether a pure accident or a result of my mistake, someone else’s mistake, or just me being clumsy. This moment happened during the 2011 deer hunting season. There were 3 of us hunting and the John Deer Gator we were driving truly only held 2 people up front comfortably; so since I was the first to be dropped off, I decided to ride in the back of the gator, while the warnings clearly say not to.

 

My ride was short to my drop off point, so it didn’t seem like a big deal. I rode in the back sitting down, holding my bow and my husband’s bow so he could drive. As he stopped he got out and I handed him my bow for some reason so I could climb out. I put one foot on the mini tailgate to step on and jump out, but the tail gate was not closed properly. This led to it opening and me falling towards the ground. All I could think about was I had my husband’s bow in my hand and I couldn’t let it hit the ground. If I dropped it he might have to re-sight it in, or I might break it. So as I fell toward the ground I raised my right hand in the air with his bow in it which only left me one hand to break my fall.

Instead however, my right knee absorbed the full impact being the first thing to hit the ground and luckily for me, my knee landed right on a rock. As I hit and rolled over on my back wincing in pain, I was still holding my husband’s bow high in the air. He asked if I was ok. My response….I said is your bow ok? He kept saying his bow was fine and checking on me. I looked at my knee and saw a hole in my leaf suit but only saw dirt on it. I said its hurts, but I’ll be fine; I just wanted to get my stuff and get to my stand. They drove off and I began the walk to my tree climber.

It became apparent that because my injury was on my knee, every time I bent it and took a step it opened the wound even more, causing more and more pain. I had on shorts (it was hot) with my leaf suit over the top which was causing more problems. The mesh from the suit was sticking to the wound. So I pulled the leg of it up over my knee to keep walking. I got to my tree climber and realized I was in for more pain. To climb the tree, I was going to have to bend my knees over and over to maneuver the climber up the tree. By this time, the dirt had worked itself out of the wound and blood was streaming down my leg.

 

All I could think about was getting in my stand and then I would figure it out there. So I climbed in pain and got settled in. As I set up all of my gear, I realized the first aid kit was in the Gator. Again not the brightest moment of not having some first aid gear in my backpack but lesson learned. I began to inventory the contents of my bag and put my MacGyver skills to work. I found a lens cleaning cloth that was in my binocular case which would be the wound dressing to absorb and stop the bleeding, at least of a while. Next I found my old back up head lamp that had an adjustable elastic head band. I removed the light and adjusted the band around my knee to press and hold the cloth onto my wound. It became my  homemade band-aid. I was able to pull my leaf suit leg over the bandage and was pretty much good to go.

 

The only problem was I could not elevate my leg sitting in the tree climber so my knee throbbed the entire hunt, but at least I stopped the bleeding. I still have the scar on my knee from that horrible fall, but I was a great wife by holding my husband’s bow in the air and saving it, even though my knee suffered the consequences. If that’s not dedication and awareness I don’t know what is haha!

Who Loves Jerky?

The real question is who DOESN'T love jerky!

I recently did a full review of a plethora of exotic jerky (http://camocandace.blogspot.com/2014/09/jerky-dynasty-tasty-review.html) but I also had the chance to review something even more fun...its still jerky but...

 

 

It's bacon jerky!!!

 

Jeff's Famous Real Bacon Jerky

Yes it's actual bacon and its definitely something you have to try.

It's sweet from the honey glaze which helps balance the spice of the sriracha!

Very flavorful, a good amount of spice from the pepper & has a grainy texture.

 

Oh and after I had 2 pieces, my husband ate the whole bag! So for all you BACON LOVERS out there, this is the prefect stocking stuffer for the bacon enthusiast in your life!

 

Dan's Smoke House X-Treme Hot Beef Jerky

This Hot Beef Jerky was my favorite of the 3 items I reviewed. I have tried A LOT of 'bag jerky' with all the road trips we take hunting but this is ranks at the top of my list!

 

Very good texture, A LOT of flavor (you can see the crushed red pepper on it), and just the right amount of spice. I wouldn't say its X-TREME as the package indicates but its definitely hot which this South Texas girl loves! Spice it up!

 

Dusty's Habanero Snack Stick (Beef)

Finally, I usually steal a bite or two when my husband buys jerky sticks but I was not sharing this with him (ok he had a little taste but I took the rest!)

Very good flavor, spicy with a little bit of a tang from a mustard ingredient.

 

Make sure you head over to www.JerkyDynasty.com to cure all of your jerky cravings! Don't forget Christmas is right around the corner & these make the best stocking stuffers....hint, hint!

 

 

Heals and Haunts

I mentioned in my previous blog “Baby Brows ‘Bout Time Buck” (http://camocandace.blogspot.com/2014/10/baby-brows-bout-time-buck.html) that I was working on a more ‘poetic’ version of the extreme emotional response to taking this buck…but to understand the highs, the lows must also be felt. In honor of the pure unfiltered bliss and bluster a hunter’s journey travels through I present this…I hope you can relate. 

  

Hunting; a consuming love triangle between me, my mind and the woods where learning how to fail is a staple of the journey.  It is a sickness that heals and haunts me, that brings me to the peak of my being and plunges to the depths of my soul. 

Before reaching a culmination of supreme perfection I press my face against the foundation of rock bottom where the cold, hard reality of heartbreak in the woods exists. Unfortunately this is not truly failure but a necessary moment each must turn and face at some point; however, in my mind and many like it, these are logged as failures long before a retrospective view is forced that ultimately leads to another scratch on the experience tree. There are moments where the bridge is burned solely to force a turnaround to face what you may have been avoiding or failed to see.

There goes my heart falling, falling, falling to the chasm created inside from a mistake, a misstep, or an uncontrollable moment only Mother Nature could create. When it hits, it hurts. It wrenches inside a pain that burns me, crushes confidence, ignites doubts, and envelops every thought. The world stops as a glimmer of self-pity sneaks in and weakness threatens to haunt me. I stagger and stumble through my mind in a cloud of disbelief, ambiguity, and empathy for any affected by this moment. It is a battle; it is hell on my mind, body and soul. Words cannot rectify it, comfort is out of reach and it is my solo internal struggle. Time, determination, dedication, and the inability to deny the fibers of my being will regenerate me and harmony will be restored; even if only briefly to carry on to witness the perfect moment we all seek. Unfortunately the return to heartbreak is nearly inevitable but it is the challenge, the moments, and the indescribable feelings inside that will always bring me back.

 After pure suffering through the dark moments of defeat, there comes a light that will shine brighter than ever before and blind the doubt that existed in my mind. With success comes renewed ambition, promise and confidence that the path I am on is deserved, honest, and merited. A successful shot is followed by a complete adrenaline release, uncontrollable shaking, tears, and a constant replay of the matter at hand. If the reward does not fall within sight all elation is stifled, just barely, by questionable ambivalence teetering on the brink of insanity followed by prayer. My heart is on the line, living in danger. Yes, no, good, bad, what if, please Lord.

But when that moment of confirmation arrives there is nothing, I mean nothing that can contain the passion, intensity and spirit of seeing the animal down. Typically I freeze in disbelief as my heart leaves my body and soars to the Heavens with gratitude and the tears continue to drain all logic from my mind leaving only emotion. It is raw, pure, unfiltered euphoria; a high like no other. As I move to feel the concrete evidence of my success and sustenance, the smile spread across my face can be seen for miles and is broken up with intervals of laughter as enthusiasm continues to exude from my body; in all forms of tears, laughter, dance, and embrace I am there in that moment and nowhere else. It, all of it, has come together. Perseverance, affliction, endless days and nights, Mother Nature, the intellectual warfare, physical complaints, and barraging battles unique to their own, all have collided in that moment and it cannot and will not be taken away…at least until the next meeting with the foundation of rock bottom starts its vicious cycle again.

It heals and it haunts…

Content in Colorado

 

I am not the first, I am not the last, there have been many before me, there will be many after me; but I am one. One of the blessed to have set foot into a world that cannot be explained through pictures, videos or descriptions alone. It must be experienced, smelled, touched, lived, harnessed & embraced.

 

It will wrap you up, consume you, and dominate your entire soul without much effort. You will become its host as it dives deep into a part of you that has never existed in the forefront of your being. It will transform your thoughts, your breathing, your perspective & your movement through moments that captivate & morph your mind.

 

So cheers to you Colorado for every single tiny moment you presented to me and know that the one word that punched me in the heart with every step was thankful. But that single word fails to fulfill the vast amount of emotion I have about it.

 

 

The following is an attempt to respect the high country with each moment, thought, reflection or encounter with forever gratitude of each…

 

*The opportunity to make the journey to such a beautiful place with such genuine people

   

*A safe trip to and from our destination

*The motivation provided to push my exercise routine to the max prior to the trip and the hard work paying off carrying me through the mountains over 40 miles. Being able to focus on everything else and not being tired or sore was phenomenal and worth every drop of sweat leading up to the trip

 

 

 *Spring water from the sink faucet to fill up my Platypus hydration pack (South Texas misses the mark on tasty sink water!) 

 

*Pockets – oh how I am indebted to my pockets! Some filled with gear while others were filled with almonds and protein bars

  

*REI and the LOWA boots they fitted me with. (Lowa Renegades to be exact) Light, comfortable, and carried me for 7 days without fail, through rocks, water, steep inclines, and deep ravines

  

*Great weather! Although it was a bit too hot for elk, we could have had rain, hail, sleet, etc throughout the trip. Even though we did not get an elk the gorgeous weather made for unforgettable views and memories 

 

*Being overwhelmed by the Aspen eyes and the changing leaves just in the short time we were there. Some thought the Aspen eyes were creepy but I thought they were caring and watchful. I felt safe as the mountain watched over me and the others and embraced me in their warmth of their yellow leaves. Sitting and glassing or calling one leaf would fall and seemingly tap me on the shoulder and whisper to me. Magical and content.



 

  

*All of my senses – Vision (which for some of you know my struggle) to be able to see and feel with my eyes the unparalleled majestic views that were continuously presented to me. The pictures fall far from reality, fail to provide the angles and nuances witnessed

Smell – the invigorating scent of nature’s air freshener of the towering pines pleased my nose (and the pine needles were even used to smash between my armpit to help reduce scent from a little sweating during some of the climbs! Yep I improvised!) The smell of fresh, clean, untainted air!

Hearing - rather listening not hearing. My ears were overcome with the moments of deafening silence then filled with the sounds of water. Tiny trickles in some areas, rushing over pebbles in others, and some splashing when I fell in a few spots. Birds, squirrels, mule deer tip toeing and hopping through the thick willows, followed by the screech of a hawk overhead and the hoot of an owl in the evenings. I listened constantly to my feet on the dirt, rocks, dried pine needles, and bark beneath as I was carried higher into the mountains

Touch - I reached out and felt everything; the cold, very cold, water on my bare feet and hands as I bear crawled across a rushing creek, the bark of the aspens, the strength of the willows as they cut into my hands as I held onto them to keep from sliding down the slopes, the wet dirt near the base of the pines, and the cool mornings

Taste - yes the taste of the rock face I kissed when I reached the top of one of the steepest mountains I have ever climbed and the intense salt flavor of a salt block I found on one of our hikes for the free roaming cattle. How could I not kneel down and taste it!

   

 

*The laughter, oh the laughter I am thankful for to have had with some amazing people. Although most of it was me being a dork there were so many moments of true happiness, laughter, and endless smiles that I cannot begin to list them all; in the mountains, in the truck, and back at the lodge

 

*The unique moments that cannot and will not be experienced again on any other trip; you cannot relive any of these 'firsts' again which makes them so special. Although we will go again and create more memories, moments, and monumental achievements, the first trip will always be special. The mistakes, the exploring and learning along the way, and all of the firsts of everything are burned into my soul

*The pure unfiltered experience of just being there; forgetting I was even hunting and staring in awe at everything God has made. All the moments when we just stood and stared; no words, no movement, just embracing the moment for what it is and that we were there in that place at that time. Finding the beauty in each and every piece of the mountain was enough to fill my heart even if a tag wasn't.

 

There is so much more I was thankful for on this trip that just can't be put into words, rather they are in my heart, pulsing through my veins, and filling my being until I can get back there soon.

Gun Safety - A Special Story

With youth hunting weekends and rifle seasons starting up in many areas I thought it would be appropriate to share a story about gun safety that a Twitter friend sent me. His name is David Ivy and you might know him on twitter (@BigDave1961). Instead of posting mounds of information on gun safety tips that can easily be found anywhere online I just want to share his personal story.

 

Take it and read it to your kids, your friends, and anybody who will listen. It’s a great way to start the conversation on gun safety. Educate your kids on guns, don’t try to hide guns from them without informing them what they are. Curiosity will be in every child’s head and they will find your guns or be around them at some point and education is the only way to ensure smart decisions.

 

Please do not judge David, his buddy or the actions in this story. This is real.

My hunting buddy took his 1st breath of air on March 23, 1990...while he's yet to figure out the big plan for his life we know there is one...

My buddy started tagging along with me fishing and hunting at an early age.  A young hunter in the making he had harvested some trophy bucks and awesome gobblers, before taking his required hunter education course when he was 11.

In early March of 2004, I purchased his birthday present, a Benilli turkey shot gun, but I left it at the local store knowing I would pick it up on the 23rd.  We were scheduled to turkey hunt with a close friend on the weekend following his birthday.

Life was good until...2:30 a.m. on Thursday, March 18th.  My buddy had gone to spend the night at a friend’s house the evening of March 17th.  Now understand I'm not knocking single moms, but the friend’s mom was single and not knowledgeable about firearms.

At 2:30 a.m. I answered the ringing phone to hear my son state that he had been accidentally shot with an unloaded .22 in the face, while playing video games. The friend’s mom wasn't able to talk to me as she was still asleep.  Petrified I asked my son if he had called 911, he replied yes.  He told me that he loved his mom and myself, and that he was sorry for fussing with his mom earlier the previous day. 

I told him we were on the way and to have the medics call us when they got there.  The home he was visiting was out in the county and the nearest hospital was just a small town medical facility. 

When we arrived at the hospital the ER personnel were kind and they advised us that he was stable and was going to be air lifted to the University Medical Center Pediatric Trauma center some 80 miles away.

When we arrived by ground at the Medical Center and he wasn't there we learned that turbulent weather caused the chopper to return him to the local hospital.  Finally after what seemed like forever an ambulance arrived, with my son being rolled in on a stretcher he gave me his thumbs up.  I think he could see the stress and worry on my face.

Shortly upon arrival at the Trauma Center a young doctor came in to perform a visual examination, which led to X-rays, etc.  The doctor was amazed that there was no apparent nerve damage, only broken teeth, bullet fragments in his jaw, and a broken jaw.  Surgery was performed later in the afternoon to clean up the jaw, and to wire his mouth closed. 

On Saturday afternoon he was released from the hospital.  I told the doctor about the birthday present that was to be picked up the first of the week.  His advice was simple, give it to him.  My next concern was that his mom was going to tell me to get rid of all the guns in the house, but thankfully that didn't happen.

On Tuesday night the 23rd we had a small birthday party.  When he opened the box tears filled his eyes.  We had to postpone his turkey trip a few weeks, the doctor said he shouldn't hunt until he was off the pain meds.

In late April we made that turkey hunt and with 2 big gobblers just out of gun range my buddy said “Dad I don't think I can do this”.  I said a little prayer that these birds would stay out of gun range so that he wouldn't feel bad about not being able to squeeze the trigger.  Later that morning back at the camp house some of the other guys took him out to the range to help him overcome his new fear.  About 30 minutes later he said “Dad I'm ready let's get a bird this afternoon.”

Later that summer he was invited to speak at a Jakes Day event on gun safety.  One could have heard a pin drop when he introduced himself and started his story with "my friend accidentally shot me" with an unloaded gun. 

I never questioned any parent(s) before that night about whether they kept guns in their house.  I never questioned whether they kept their weapons properly stored.  As you might imagine after that night I certainly asked questions and if the answers weren't right, I was a bad parent for keeping my son at home.

 

 

Unfortunately we weren’t able to obtain the pictures of the x-rays to show the damage but I think the facts of the story are powerful enough. Talk to your kids, educate them, and hopefully we can eliminate these kinds of incidents.

 

 

Baby Brows ‘Bout Time Buck

 

 

*If you haven’t read my “Bittersweet Buck” blog, take a moment to go read that one before proceeding. It will help explain why Baby Brows is my ‘Bout Time Buck and add more meaning to this one. Here is the link: http://community.deergear.com/Article/BittersweetBuck I haven't updated it on my blog yet but its still currently up on the Legendary Whitetails page.

 

It was a typical weekend in the Texas Hill Country with rain forecasted which always seemed to happen when we headed there to hunt; it never failed it would rain at least one day but it was a hot Friday; Texas hot. We were hunting ground blinds in thick cedar (as much as I love being in a tree this area was not prime for tree stands, climbers, or even tripods so we had to forgo the hot boxes). It was 94 degrees and we sat in different areas; my husband, best buddy, and me, sweating, in shorts and snake boots waiting for the last possible moment to put on face masks or face paint. Rain was on the way the next 2 days so we were hoping for a successful hunt on Friday; It didn’t happen. We saw some movement but nothing legal or old enough.

 

 

Saturday morning it poured rain as we sat in our ground blinds listening to the pitter patter on the roof, watching a few drips come through, and hoping for it to let up and the deer to get moving. It didn’t happen. With a full moon and rain the odds were stacked against us but a cool front moved through with the rain and dropped the temperatures down to 59 degrees. The cloud cover from the cool front had blocked out the bright moon and Saturday afternoon looked to be the most promising for activity. We all made it to our stands early and I saw some movement about 4:00pm but nothing legal or mature. I was just happy to be in rain boots and pants instead of shorts and sweating!

 

 

A text message showed up on my phone about 6:30pm that our buddy shot a doe and he could see her laying about 20 yards from where he shot her. I texted back my congratulations and looked up to see a buck walk out of the brush. There he was standing broad side but with the antler restrictions in the county we were hunting I needed him to look at me or away to check his rack size. *The antler restrictions are for a 2 buck county where 1 buck must have one unbranched antler (a spike, 3 pt, or freak) and the other buck must have an inside spread greater than 13 inches, usually at the tips of their ears when alert. He finally turned to look in my direction and I confirmed he was big enough, a beautiful 9 pt. (The final measurement was 15 3/4 inches).  My heart began racing…

 

Trail Cam pic from the week before of Baby Brows

I was already in disbelief that this buck was even close enough to shoot. We were hunting a low fence, low deer population area with some of the most skittish deer I have ever hunted. They are definitely always on high alert compared to the deer I have hunted in South Texas and spook very easily; in 5 years of hunting this place the quantity of deer taken was low, well deer taken with a bow. The neighbors are content rifle hunting and shooting young deer or being reckless with their kills so our management of passing on young, although legal, bucks was in constant battle with those around us without the same management ideas. Regardless of what others were doing though we stayed true to our morals and ethics over the years and passed on young bucks more times than I can count hoping we would be rewarded.

 

As my heart started beating in my ears I made the decision of using my 20 yard pin. He was standing about 25 yards away because I had ranged a group of cactus in front of him at 22 yards and a group behind him at 28 yards earlier when I first got in the blind. I try to range landmarks early instead of waiting until the deer is in front of me to range distance so I can eliminate unnecessary movement. As I began to lift my bow, I caught a glimpse of another set of antlers in the brush so I pulled out my binoculars to look. He was a much younger buck but now I had another set of eyes to potentially bust me. My buck was now alternating between looking forward at the other buck and in my direction at the blind. I was completely blacked out in the blind with a long sleeve black shirt and black face mask but as I mentioned before, these deer are always on high alert.

 

I was trying to calm my breathing as I picked up my bow to draw. There wasn’t a breath of wind and the woods were dead silent so I knew I was going to have to be extremely stealthy and make small movements. I drew back but it was the slowest I had ever drawn my bow making it the most difficult. The adrenaline was pumping and as I lowered my pins onto his shoulder they went black. No longer could I see the fiber optics of my pins of green, yellow, red etc; instead my tunnel vision took over and I watched my top 20 yard pin hover over his shoulder. At this point he had turned in my direction and was looking at the blind. I watched the muscles in his shoulders for any type of twitch that would indicate he was about to run just as I released on him.

 

He didn’t jump my string and as my arrow slammed into his shoulder I heard the beautiful ‘thwack’ of the hit. He turned and I saw about 4 inches of my arrow with the lighted nock stick out. My arrow had passed through, although not a complete pass through, but I knew I had made enough penetration to drop him hopefully nearby. I could only watch him run a few yards before he was out of sight because the cedar trees are extremely thick; so I listened. I thought I heard a crash but my heart was still in my ears and I was shaking so bad I wasn’t sure what I heard. I fumbled for my phone to text that I had just shot a buck. Now the hard part…wait. I waited for about 30-45 minutes and my husband crossed the ranch to meet me to start tracking.

 

It was now dark and the ground was still wet from the rain and visions of my Bittersweet Buck danced in my head for fear of the same situation. I found blood at the impact site and both pieces of my arrow 5 yards behind there covered in blood. It resembled a lung shot because of the air bubbles so I knew the blood trail was going to be more minimal than a heart shot. We began tracking a small blood trail, marking each last spot with my lighted nock before moving forward. The positive of the wet ground was the imprints of his tracks as he ran and dug into the ground. We had only tracked about 30 yards when we saw a large pile of fresh deer droppings and a larger pool of blood. We both smiled at each other because that was a great sign! We both shined our flashlights up and there another 10 yards was my buck lying against a tree.

 

 

From where I stood I couldn’t even see his antlers but I didn’t care. I immediately burst into uncontrollable tears (yes ladies probably the ugly cry) from joy, years of hard work and never giving up, accomplishment and gratefulness. I just stood there holding my hands over my mouth as 100% pure unfiltered emotion took over. I grabbed my husband as he gave me a big hug and I cried. He walked over to him first because I was still frozen and ensured he was expired and grabbed his antlers. I finally followed and was able to see my buck as I took a huge deep breath. It is so hard to explain in words that exact moment and feeling especially after years of heartbreak and frustration; it was ‘Bout Time!!! (and if you couldn't tell the name Baby Brows came from his super small brow tines but they had character because he had green moss/tree leaves on them from rubbing - which I also found a fresh rub while tracking him!)

 

 

I filled out and attached my tag, loaded him up and then headed to pick up our buddy’s doe he had already tagged and field dressed. We headed back to camp to take a few pictures and hurry to get him cleaned and on ice. Although it was a cooler night, the temperatures still required us to get him cleaned, quartered and on ice as soon as possible. We decided on a European mount for my buck and wrapped his head up for transport. I was on cloud nine for the rest of the weekend (ok... I still am) and could barely sleep that night with such a big grin on my face! The entire hunt from start to finish was an out of body experience that I replay over and over in my mind that I will never forget.

 

I am working on a more poetic version of the feelings, emotions, sights, sounds and overwhelming joy in an attempt to explain that moment from my heart in a way that I feel will capture it to the best of my ability.

 

 

 

   Also I want to give a huge shout out to Deer Creek Cover scent who not only personalized my dirt foam soap, bar soap, after shower body spray, and scent cover field spray but kept me stealth in the field! This ground blind ninja is one happy huntress!