Evolution of a Bow Hunter: Part 3.

The next year I set my sights higher and decided that I was going to shoot a buck no matter what.  That season I did most of my hunting around the farm.  There were quite a few deer around and quite a few bucks.  That year a friend of mine also gave me one of his old trail cameras.  This was a high tech flash kind that used a 6 V battery. Looking back at those old trail cam pics and you certainly appreciate how technology has advanced. Geesh.

That summer while waiting for hunting season I got the opportunity to work for the FM RedHawks. For those of you who do not know they are a minor league baseball team based in Fargo, North Dakota. I'm not sure how I got the gig. Someone must've given someone my name and I got a call one day for an interview. I remember being as nervous as a dog shitting tacks because the interview was with the general manager. But he was as cool as the other side of the pillow. There was nothing to be nervous about. The interview about my education and background lasted about ten minutes. The next twenty minutes was a discussion about baseball, Minnesota Twins and RedHawks. Good stuff. I remember it was raining that day so he had me watch the radar and make a judgment call to pull the tarp or not. I said, "Play ball!"

I believe I went to most of the home games that summer. Or at least three quarters of the home games. A lot of travel time and a lot of in the chair time. But it was a great time. I did that for two summers. I suppose I should tell you what I did for them. I would interview players and coaches and write up some stories to put in their game day programs. I would sit up in the press box and soak it all in while drinking free Mountain Dew. I had conversations with legendary Los Angeles Dodger Maury Wills. I was living the dream.

I believe that fall I went bow hunting around 30 times and I believe I saw deer every time. I used to keep track of these type of things. I was mostly just hunting north of the house or on an abandoned farmyard southwest about 2 miles.  While hunting that year I had many firsts.  The first thing that I saw that I had never seen before was a droptine buck.  It was at the old farmyard southwest of our farm.  He wasn't that big but the two other bachelors he was with were enormous.  A friend of mine got one of them and he is on his wall.  The night I encountered them I had a chance to shoot all of them.  The only problem was the farmyard is right next to a road, within 20 yards.  And wouldn't you it, right when they were coming into range a vehicle had to drive by.  I hunted in that spot for the next two weeks and never saw them again. Jerks.

During those two weeks I also saw for the first time while hunting with a bow, a coyote.  I remember there were a couple of does in front of me and all of a sudden they started looking at me.  But I could tell they were not looking at me, it was something behind me. After a while I noticed to my side, within 15 yards Mr. Wile E. Coyote.  Talk about an adrenaline rush.  I knew he wasn't going to attack me but still seeing a predator that close is pretty neat. He circled around me until he got a good whiff and he was off like a prom dress.

That fall I also hunted in another shelter belt to the northeast which I call Herman's belt. This brings me to my last of my firsts. Earlier that summer while watching the outdoor channel I saw a guy using a grunt tube that would work for me.  It is like any other grunt tube, but it has a long tube attached to it, so I had it mounted on my crossbow.  So that fall I learned a lot about grunting. I learned when you should start, how long and how loud.  It really depends on the situation, the time of season, the number of deer around and if you can do it without being detected.  That year I probably scared more deer away grunting than I actually attracted, but I guess that is how you learn.  The first time I ever had a buck grunt back at me was in Herman's.  There were deer a couple of hundred yards away in a cornfield that I was trying to bring in.  All of a sudden behind me within 5 yards I heard a buck grunt at me.  It scared the crap out of me because I didn't expect it behind me and he was so close.  I jumped when I heard it and of course the little buckaroo hightailed it down the belt going about 40 mph.

Later that year, I believe it was the end of October I was hunting north of the house quite a bit.  I had seen a couple of bucks on the trail cam, nothing to brag about but they were out there.  In that belt I was hunting there was also quite a few rubs and scrapes, always a good sign.  The night I shot my first buck, I remember it like yesterday.  I was set up next to a couple of trails that intersected in the shelterbelt 80 yards from my bedroom and I was set up right in front of a fresh rub. This night I was not set up in a pop-up blind, I just had camouflaged burlap wrapped around me.

 There was quite a few does eating in the bean field to the north of me.  I knew it wouldn't be long and they would be going for a drink at the artesian well that was behind me to the south about 150 yards.  All of a sudden they started working their way towards me, about 13 does.  You might think it is good to have that many deer around but it is just the opposite when you are sitting on the ground.  Too many eyes, especially the older does that tend to bust you.  But that night they were more concerned about the twitterpated buck behind them.  As the skinheads filed by me I could hear a buck to my left grunting and snorting with his head on the ground trailing them.  He was at a pretty good trot and before I knew it he went by my shooting lane by about 10 yards to the east.  So I gave a little grunt and he popped his head up, spun around to the west, walked slowly towards my shooting lane and then he poked his head in the belt looking straight south. He was aiming right at me so all I had was his chest to shoot at, probably under 12 yards. Not a great shot to take but over the summer I had practiced that shot numerous times on 3-D targets. So with that confidence I decided to let him have it.  I saw it enter right above his sternum.  He jumped back and started running across the combined soybean field.  He stopped at about 30 yards and I could tell he was struggling.  It looked like he was coughing.  Then he went on his death run for only about another 30 yards and tipped over.

I waited about half an hour and called up my mom on the cell.  When she got out there she was pretty pumped up and she wanted to track him.  I told her to wait, I would call up my friend Lucas to help find him and field dress him.  But while I was calling him up she had already found the buck.

When we were gutting him we could not find the arrow.  We looked through everything and could not find it.  We thought for sure it would be stuck in him because it wasn't going to make it all away through the other end, that's for sure.  Also I remember when we were taking pictures with him he was the smelliest buck I had ever smelt.  He was really into the rut, he was really twitterpated. After the pictures we brought him to the meat locker and had a couple of celebratory cocktails. 

The next day I went back out to try to find the arrow and it was lying right where he stopped, when it looked like he was coughing.  Anyway, he wasn't the biggest buck but he was my first and I will always remember that.  He is on my wall as we speak.  Thanks to Don B, he did the European mount for me.

The next year's hunting season was pretty slow.  There wasn't much for deer out in my territory for some reason.  So that year I did a lot of hunting down on the tree farm.  I believe I hunted just about every inch of the tree farm that year.  I got to know the place pretty well. I got to know the habits of the deer and could probably name most of them because I saw them so often. 

That year I had a couple disappointments down on the tree farm.  I remember one time I grunted a buck across the alfalfa field.  He was coming right into me but that is when my ride decided to pick me up a little early. He was a doozy. I passed up quite a few shots down there that year.  And I remember it was quite cold also that year.  But in January I decided to give it a whirl again. I think it was the last weekend. This time I brought my mom and her camera which had video. That was high-tech then. It was so cold we decided to hunt from the small tower which also had the feeder in front of it.  I knew it would only be a matter of time before the deer were going to check out the feeder and it didn't take long.  There had to be around 15 deer mingling around in front of it so I decided to take the biggest doe I could see.  It was about a 30 yard shot and she ran about 100 yards and tipped over in the old riverbed.  Not a very exciting story but it is the first time that I caught a hunt on video.

Earlier that spring I also got my first turkey tag.  I really didn't get into turkey hunting that much.  I don't know why but turkeys don't turn my crank, but it is still fun to get out of the house and into the woods. Turkeys are jerks.

I believe the next year I did not get anything while hunting.  I'm pretty sure that might've been the year I was in the hospital for a couple of months in the fall. Not very good timing on my part, hunting seasons is priority.

I should've wrote this next part of my story right when it happened, or at least jotted down some notes.  That is when I think I thought of this story below titled, "14 Years."  It doesn't have to do anything with hunting, but you will see for yourself.  I wrote it when I got out of the hospital. (This is when my blogging started.)

14 years

            I am a first timer at this blogging stuff so here it goes.  A couple weeks ago I met someone and they asked me what my story was.  Of course they started out asking how I ended up in a wheelchair.  I told them the shortened, abbreviated story because of course I was in a bar.  Anyway when I got done with my history they asked when it happened to me and I said when I was around 15 years old.  Then they asked me how old I was and I told them 28 year’s old.  Then they told me something that I did not realize, “So you have spent half of your life in and half of your life out of a chair.”  My response was, “I guess.”  The bar patron then asked me how has your life been different?  And that is why I am writing this blog. 

            My first answer to that question is my life is very different.  Besides the obvious differences of living a life in a chair there are countless ways that my life is different behind the scenes.  Which most people cannot even fathom. 

            Then I became to realize that, how do I know that my life is different now than it could be.  There is a lot of hypothetical crap that could’ve happened either way.  I could’ve been a millionaire but I can still be a millionaire.  I could’ve been a famous baseball analyst but I can still be a famous baseball analyst.  I could've had my own hunting show but I think I still could have my own hunting show. The easiest answer I think to that question is I would still be me.  So it is hard to think of how your life could have been different.  Try it sometime, pick out a point in your life and make a decision that changes your life from that point on. Do you think your life would be different or would it be the same?

            Another reason why I’m writing this blog is because I was wondering how many people I have met because I am in a wheelchair.  There are hundreds of people I have met that I know I would have not met otherwise.  Most of the people on Facebook, doctors/nurses and friends I met at college.  Most of the people I have met these last 14 years have become some of my best friends.  Not to knock all the people that I have known all my life but you know what I mean.

            The third reason why I am writing this is that I want to thank everyone who has supported me these last 14 years. 

People who don’t know me, like that barfly always ask me, "How do I do it, how do I live my life?" There are a lot of reasons why I “do it”, live my life as normal as can be.

            The first reason is because I do not know any other way to live my life.  I have been in hospitals numerous times and always see patients who feel sorry for themselves and I would hate myself if I would ever do that.  I can’t stand people who feel sorry for themselves and I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me.  That might seem a little cynical but that is how I feel.  I lived in an apartment with many people with different disabilities and they would never go out of their rooms.  If I did that I would go more nuts.

            The second reason is because of all of the support I have gotten from my family and friends.  You do not know how much that means to me.  Without all of you these last 14 years these could have been the worst 14 years of my life, but I believe they have been the best 14 years of my life.  Thanks.

            That is some pretty serious, deep stuff I just wrote.  It all started when a local idiot in one of my favorite bars asked me a simple question.  Because as most of you know I am a loser magnet.

Peace and chicken grease, Clint.

Now back to the hunting.  The year after my hiatus from hunting there was again not much for deer in my neck of the woods.  So I hunted a lot down on the tree farm again.  In my years of hunting down there I started to notice some areas that seem to get more buck activity than others.  The spot that I now hunt down there most the time is called, "Clint's spot."  It is on the south side of the farm in some tall pines alongside a dirt path. A pinch point. It doesn't look like a good spot, but every time I sit there there's always something coming or going onto the big field.  It is in between the bedding area and feeding area. It is a perfect spot to ambush them while they transition between eating and sleeping. Another good thing about sitting there is the farthest shot would be 15 yards. Nice.

That year I also started doing morning hunts.  I should've started doing this earlier in my career because there is something about hunting in the morning.  I do not know what it is, maybe it is just because it is so quiet most of the time with hunting in the morning.  The only problem is I sometimes think you scare more deer getting into your spot then you would do in an afternoon hunt.

That year like most years down on the tree farm I had a lot of encounters with bucks but somehow I was always in the wrong spot.  So I decided to hit my spot because I knew some type of deer would eventually come by that I wanted to pull the trigger on.  The day I shot my second buck I was in my spot pretty early in the afternoon.  The day before, right in front of me in the swamp, I watched four bucks size each other up for about 45 minutes.  All they did was walk around stiff legged and strut their stuff.  I had a chance to shoot one of them but they would not come in all the way.  He was about 3 yards away from being skewered.  I believe all of them were 4x4's.  Anyway back to the day after.  I hadn't been sitting there long when a doe and two fawns walked by within 10 feet.  As soon as they left I noticed some movement to my right.  It was a little 3 x 3 basket buck that had a limp.  He came right down the path and stood in front of me eating some well-placed crabapples for about 10 minutes and I noticed he was still favoring his front leg.  So I decided to shoot him.  Anyway he was so close, around 7 yards that I shot a little too high but I knew I hit him hard.  He turned and ran through the swamp and I heard him crash about 30 yards away but could not see him.  So I called up my tracker a.k.a. mom and she was on the scene within 30 minutes.  Because I shot him high there was no blood trail so it was going to be a tough track.  But she was determined to find him and went on her way just tracking his actual hoof tracks through the fallen leaves.  I thought she might need some help so I called up Lucas and he was there in no time. But by the time he got there wouldn't you know it, mom had already found him.  He does not have a big rack by any means but he was a big bodied deer.  Kevin the landowner, my sister Shelie and my dad also came down to help celebrate. The Morgan was flowing. It didn't suck.

Lucas and Kevin my gut guys.

Over Thanksgiving in 2008 my cousin Stephanie and my friend Jeremy decided to schedule their wedding and tie the knot in Las Vegas. I knew I wasn't going to miss this. Flying there was out of the question because of my electric wheelchair so I decided to make the 22 hour road trip down there. The decision was easy, but I knew the road trip was going to suck. This was because I was supposed to only be in the chair six hours at a time. But I was going to stretch a little bit. Clint style. So this meant I would have to stay over three nights on the way down.

The first night my dad, mom and I drove a little over six hours and stopped at Spearfish, South Dakota. The next day we drove through the Black Hills a little bit on our way through Casper and down to Rawlins, Wyoming where we stayed the second night. I had never been in this area of the country so it was awesome. I love that area. Seeing antelope and mule deer did not suck. Plus counting the miles of fence line between roads was quite amazing.

Driving from Rawlins through Green River and turning south before getting to Salt Lake City was an awesome stretch of scenery. I had really never seen mountains before. Even though it was foggy going through Park City driving towards Provo the falling rock signs on one side of the highway and the reservoir on the other side was awesomely nerve-racking. Our next stop would be in Fillmore, Utah and this day was Thanksgiving. I believe I had a lettuce salad with water at the motel. We learned that there were no alcohol sales on holidays in that state. Geesh. 

The next day we were headed towards Vegas through some pretty cool territory. The steep upgrades through the rocky cliffs south of St. George are neat. The semis were probably going 15 mph uphill. We were flying by them in the shaggin wagon.

Myself with Stephanie & Jeremy at the Trio.

The desert was pretty much just the desert until you can start to see the tall buildings in Las Vegas. It was a sight to be seen. I bet it is really something to see it at night. But this was about midafternoon when we pulled into the Excalibur Casino. The first thing I needed to when I got there was to eat. And for some reason I was craving a big Mac. Wouldn't you know it they had the McDonald's right in the casino. After that I ventured down to the bar area and surprisingly found all of my relatives and friends. We later named this bar the Trio. This was the gathering spot.

Some of the Enderlin boys on the rooftop reception.

I believe I took a little nap before getting up for that Friday evening. It was a good thing. Because we did stuff and things until late in the evening/morning. I don't remember what time the wedding was on Saturday but most people looked a little bedraggled. Including myself. 

After one day in Vegas.

After the wedding they had the reception on a rooftop and that was good times. I should backtrack a little. I started feeling poorly on the way down to Vegas, actually right before we left but I didn't tell anyone. Like I had stuff in my lungs. Probably pneumonia. But I wasn't going to pass up this trip. Anyway, during the reception I started hacking on something and good thing the groom was right behind me. He slapped me on the back and I finally got something moving. Thank you Swany.

After the reception we decided to head back to the Excalibur. One good thing about Las Vegas is a lot of their taxis are wheelchair accessible. But this does not mean they are the safest things. They do not strap you in. Or at least this crazy bastage taxi driver did not. As he was slamming on the gas and brakes as my head was banging the back window. I was laughing my head off with my parents and sister Shelie in the seat in front of me. Good times.

Once we got back to the casino I believe Cody and I decided to blow our life savings on the slot machines. We even tried poker for a while but with no luck. Even though we did have one lady of the night offer some luck to us. We declined. That was entertaining.

I believe most of the people took off for back home the next day which was Sunday. I believe we took it easy that Sunday or didn't hit it as hard and took off on Monday. I was beat.

On the way home we decided to take a different route. Going north into Utah we decided to go east on interstate I 70 towards Denver. The first day we made it all the way to Richfield, Utah. This was by far my favorite area of the trip. This was like prime elk and mule deer territory. I can see myself living there easily. The next day we woke up and headed east on the interstate through the desolate territory before the Rockies. We needed a little rest stop so we stopped at Ghost Rock historical site. This is where I knew I was sick. I was hacking up not good stuff.

This is me trying to breathe at Ghost Rock.

As we were getting east of Green River, Utah we could see behind us a storm brewing. As we got further into Colorado we found a local radio station and they said to hunker down if traveling. We made it to the exit of Vail when it started to snow. We found a motel and decided to wait out the storm. I kind of felt like Lloyd Christmas except I didn't have a motorbike I had the shaggin wagon and a motorized cart.

When we woke up the next day the interstate was not in good condition. The warning signs were up to chain up your vehicles. Of course we did not have chains but we were from North Dakota and could handle a little compacted snow. It was slow going heading down the interstate towards Denver. I think it took an hour extra. When we could see Denver dad exhaled and said some expletives as he finally took his hands off of the steering wheel. White knuckles happened.

Getting more windshield washer fluid at Breckenridge exit. Making sure this stuff is rated for below freezing. The stuff we got in Utah gelled up going through the pass. It got a little nippy…

We drove through Denver and all the way to North Platte, Nebraska. I believe we only stopped once for lunch. Once we got to North Platte I needed to get to lay down while they went out for supper and had some cocktails. The next day we headed straight north towards Pierre, South Dakota and on to Aberdeen. Somewhere in between there we decided to head all the way home. It was going to be a long day but I knew I wasn't going to get up for least three or four days when I got home. My body needed rest.

Holy shinto that was quite the trip. I don't think I could handle it again. I'm sure I could but I wouldn't want to, I don't think. I beat the hell out of my body but it was well worth it.

I believe I only rested one day and I decided I needed to get to the clinic and check out my lung problem. I got into the Enderlin clinic and my doctor told me after she listened to my lungs, "You do know that they have clinics in Vegas don't you? You dumb head!" I'm pretty sure most of you know who I'm talking about. She is the best. Anyway she ordered some antibiotics or some type of medication for my pneumonia and also gave me a nebulizer with medication. She told me to keep my door closed with a humidifier going and rest, plus don't do anything stupid for least three days. Ha ha. Good stuff. Glad I lived through it.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Part 4 coming soon…