Evolution of a Bow Hunter: Part 2.

The next thing I remember was staring at the ceiling in the hospital bed, but that was a month later. I remember a couple of things in the hospital after waking up but it is pretty blurry still. I had a breathing tube going down my throat so I could not talk. I really didn’t realize what was going on until the second month in the hospital. All I knew was that I could not move my legs and I could not move my hands and fingers.

I don’t really remember talking to any doctors until one day they said they are going to have a conference and they wanted family members to be there. I’m sure everyone knew a lot more than I did and they all knew what my diagnosis was going to be. I remember being wheeled into a conference room and most of my aunts and uncles were there along with my parents and sisters. That is when the doctors finally told me or I finally realized that I would be paralyzed for the rest of my life. They also told me that I would be ready to go home the next week. I remember being in shock that they were going to let me go home because I was not “fixed.” I suppose I was too young and naive to realize that there is no fixing paralysis.

I got home that March and it was hard to realize what had happened and how everything had changed so quickly. While I was in the hospital my parents had to remodel the house in order to make it wheelchair accessible. Everything from that point on was different and would never be the same. Or so I thought. 

I didn’t go back to high school that year or at least go to school. I finished my sophomore classes that summer with help from a tutor. That summer I did not do too much because I didn’t think I could do too much. Before school started in the fall for my junior year I received my electric wheelchair which helped in my recovery in many ways. It is hard to explain how dependent you are on someone else when you have a manual wheelchair. The electric wheelchair let me be somewhat independent. It also let me do what I like to do most and that is to get outside and enjoy the outdoors. Even though I didn’t go too far, at least I could imagine doing things and going places by myself. 

Going back to high school was great. I was scared people were going to treat me differently and feel sorry for me. I’m sure there was some of that but for the most part your friends are still your friends no matter what. They treated me like I was the same old Clint. I didn’t do much in high school that year or my senior year. In fact, I did just enough to get by to graduate. I didn't really do any extracurricular activities. My high school was very accommodating though. They changed my classes around moving them to the lower floors. They also added a medieval wheelchair elevator that was kind of scary. 

I believe the thing that got me most back into enjoying life again was after my high school graduation. This is when my friend Kondo asked me to help him coach the Enderlin Babe Ruth baseball team. As most of you know I live and die baseball. Coaching seemed to get me out of my shell and made me realize that I can do stuff and things I wanted to, with some limitations. Just getting out and being with friends was another turning point in my recovery. Kondo was a big part of this. And so were the players. They didn’t look at me as someone in a wheelchair, they looked at me as someone who could help them with their baseball fundamentals and someone who could lighten the mood with some good old Babe Ruth baseball humor. Some of you will know what I mean, especially the ones who were coached by Kondo. 

 
That fall in 1997 I decided to go to North Dakota State University to further my education. I had no clue what I was going to go into. I was actually thinking of agricultural economics. But I knew I wasn't too fond of math and science. Luckily for me I took a mass communication class for an elective and I really liked. The best part about it was it was mostly group projects. Actually, the best part about mass communication is the ratio of women to men. It is like 70/30. As a red blooded American male, that doesn't suck. That first year of college was quick. Amazingly, I even passed everything. I could tell you stories from that year but they are not going in here.

Now back to the hunting. In the summer of 1998 I received a phone call from Delmere McLean, who was a member of U.F.F.D.A. (United Federation for Disabled Archers). He asked me if I wanted to go on the bow hunt south of Leonard at the 4-H camp. My response was, “I can’t shoot a bow but I would come along and watch.” Delmere quickly and happily responded, “We are going to give you a crossbow and you are going to shoot.” I was kind of skeptical of what he was saying but went along with it. He told me to meet him and his crew at the 4-H camp that summer so I could get my crossbow. My dad and I went down and met the people who were organizing the hunt and they opened my eyes to what was possible. They gave me a Barnett Wildcat crossbow that did not have any adaptive equipment attached to it, but they said they would work with me to get it possible for me to shoot.

Sidebar: The awesome group of people who raised all of the money and did everything to get the first UFFDA hunt going in North Dakota eventually became their own organization. This organization is awesome and they have helped many a person like me achieve things they did not think were possible. Twist of Fate does not suck. They host a hunt every September south of Leonard in the beautiful Sandhills. Follow the link  for more info: Twist of Fate.

As soon as we got back home from meeting Delmer and crew, that's when my dad started working on the crossbow and the mount that was going to let me be able to shoot a bow by myself. We had to do quite a bit of manufacturing on our own. A lot of trial and error was done, but actually we got it pretty much perfected. I have used this same set up for almost 20 years. The forearm and the butt stock were removable on this crossbow. That made adapting it a lot easier. This crossbow was also very small and light, especially with everything removed that wasn't needed. Dad welded together a frame that let me shoot the crossbow by myself by the time the hunt came around in September. His welding skills do not suck. 

When I got down to the 4-H camp that September it was quite an eye-opener to see all the people there with different disabilities that were shooting compound bows and crossbows. People with no arms, people with no legs and even one man who was blind who was still enjoying hunting with limitations. This experience really opened my eyes to believe that I was really going to be able to hunt again. 

The first day that I went out hunting was on some of Wall’s land west of the 4-H camp. I had Bruce Eggen sitting with me the first time I went out hunting. Just to find out what I needed to help my hunting experience. And it did not take long before we realized that I was going to need something on my crossbow to help aim up, down, right and left. We were set up behind two round bales when a doe and two yearlings came by. I could not get my scope/crosshairs on the doe because I could not aim without moving my chair. For those of you who have never deer hunted before making noise before you shoot usually doesn’t work so well. As the deer left I started to think about what I could add on my crossbow to help in aiming. I should backtrack a little. Up till now my crossbow was fixed solidly on my mount and the mount was solid on my chair. This meant the only way that I could aim was by moving my chair by engaging the motor which made noise, that was for right and left. Up and down movement would have been a crapshoot. 

On my way back to the 4-H camp that night I thought about mounting my crossbow on a spotting scope window mount. So after supper I drove up to Scheels and picked one up. The next morning Dad and I were in the shop trying to figure out how to mount a crossbow on the spotting scope window mount. As it turned out it was a lot easier than we thought. We got everything hooked up pretty quickly and it worked pretty slick. That morning before we went back to the 4-H camp I shot a couple times and was amazed at how easy it was considering a month earlier I didn’t think that I could shoot a crossbow at all. 

On Saturday during the hunt there is a shoot when all of the hunters draw a target out of a hat and have to try to hit it at 15 yards. This is just to show everyone what different type of equipment everyone uses and how they use it. And the targets are not ordinary targets. They are playing cards, records, balloons and ping-pong balls. Guess what I drew, ping-pong ball. I remember I was nervous as a dog shitting tacks when I had to go up in front of everyone and try to hit this, knowing I had only shot my crossbow couple of times. I remember lining up thinking I should aim low because I had been shooting high. That is when I pulled back on the trigger and the next thing I knew everyone was cheering because I cracked that ping-pong ball dead center. Holy shinto. I was excited. 

I didn’t end up getting a deer at the 4-H camp that year but it was memorable anyway. Just meeting all the guides, hunters and volunteers was something I will never forget. Some of those awesome people are still with Twist of Fate to this day. 

After the hunt at the 4-H camp I went out hunting a couple of times during October but with no luck. That was until Halloween. I remember Halloween was on a Sunday that year because my friend Smoothy was going to pick me up to go hunting that day. I remember it was Sunday because Smoothy had to go away for a while starting Monday, but that is another story. It was a perfect Fall day with very little wind. I remember this because while waiting for Smoothy as usual, I was outside thinking he is going to get here too late to be able to get to where we want to go before dark. Just then I saw him coming down the driveway and he asked me if I was ready to go and we were on our way. We decided to go hunting down by Anderson’s a.k.a. Hartford Valley. We got out of the van and were looking for a place to set up in between a cornfield and Maple River. As we were going down the dirt trail we found a hay bale about 10 yards from the cornfield with a small mud puddle in between them. Smoothy said this was going to work perfect. He said the deer would come out of the corn, take a drink out of this mud puddle and you should have a perfect shot.

So he got me all set up and went to a tree stand that was within 50 yards. He figured that was far enough away so that he could smoke a cigert and the deer would not smell him and bust me. It wasn’t 20 minutes later when I heard some rustling in the corn. That is when two yearlings came out and started drinking out of the puddle. They were both too little to shoot, so I just watched them for a little while until their mom came out. She too, just like the others came out of the corn and drank from that puddle just as Smoothy said they would. That is when I lined her up and took the shot. I didn’t know exactly where I hit her, all I knew was there was a bunch of commotion in the corn and it sounded like she was breakdancing which is always a good sign. I waited a little bit and then I started whistling to Smoothy to get his attention. The next thing I knew, he was running toward me with his long legs flailing about asking me if I hit something. I told him that I shot and heard a lot of noise afterwards but did not know if I hit her good. That’s when we started looking around and found some blood on a corn husk. Then just like a bloodhound he disappeared in the corn and only went about 50 yards before he was hollering, “You got her, you got her!” I think he was more excited than I was. That night we shared in the harvest by eating the heart and tenderloins. It was the best tasting deer I ever had...

I cannot explain what I felt like to be back out hunting after everything I had been through. Just being in the outdoors again was worth everything. The main thing it gave me was independence. Not having to rely on anyone or burden anyone to reach a goal was very gratifying. I can pick the place where I want to hunt. I can pick when I want to hunt. I can choose to shoot a deer or let them go. Everything is up to me. Hunting with a bow is all about just you and the outdoors. You learn a lot about yourself and others when you're by yourself with just your thoughts sitting in the trees in the middle of nowhere. I just love it. It doesn't suck. 

After harvesting that doe that first year back in the woods, I was a little picky the next couple of years. I think I shot the first one just to prove to myself that I could do it. Not shooting anything the next couple years wasn't because I wasn't hunting, it was more of trying to become a better hunter. Also, of course I was looking for Mr. Big. Those two years I hunted more then I had ever done in the past. I've probably average going out around 30 times each year. I really learned a lot about how to pattern deer. There was a lot of trial and error. The only problem was every one always asked me, "Did you get anything?" "Why haven't you shot anything?" So the next year I decided to do something about it. That fall I was invited down to the 4-H camp again for the Twist of Fate hunt. That is usually the end of September. When I get invited to their hunt I still go out hunting before but would never shoot anything unless it would go on my wall. That year I was teamed up with my guide Less. He is a great guy and a great guide. The guides down there go through a lot of work finding the deer, patterning the deer and setting up blinds. Anyway back to the hunt. The spot I was hunting at that year was about a mile east of the camp on Gordon's land. Gordon is one of the landowners that graciously let us use their property. His property is one of the best I have ever hunted. The spot I was in the first night was kind of what I would call swamp buck territory. It was down in the thick woods along the Sheyenne river bottom. I remember it was really dark because of all the tall trees and thick underbrush. I remember thinking to myself when I got in there that I was in the battle with time because no sunlight was coming in. Shooting with a scope you need at least a little bit of sunlight or moonlight to see the crosshairs. I believe I had two or three does come in right away and then nothing for a couple of hours. Right when I was thinking nothing was going to come out I spotted a little 2 x 3 swamp buck walking right towards my shooting lane. This is when I for some reason decided to yawn. Because of my paralysis, when I yawn my arms move a little. And wouldn't you know it, my arm hit my trigger and my arrow went flying through the trees kind of like the Plink-O game on the Price is Right. So I was stuck there without any killing device and the buck walked right by without a care in the world. When Less came back to pick me up he noticed that my arrow was gone and he asked me what happened. Let's just say everyone back at the camp had a good laugh. 

After that little fiasco we decided to move to another spot the next night with a little bit more light and hopefully more action. That day we also rigged up a walkie-talkie to my tray so just in case I had another yawning attack I could call him up and we could cock another arrow. This was a grand idea until it started raining, this will come up later in the story, but I digress. The spot where I was hunting that night was on the sidehill and the deer would be about 10 yards below me, at about a 20 yard shot. I was used to shooting on flat terrain so this was a new experience for me. Anyway it wasn't 15 minutes and it started raining. Not hard but about to get everything wet especially the walkie-talkie. About 15 minutes after that a nice big dry doe came in to the Golden Nugget pile, you baiters will know what I'm talking about. Anyway shooting downhill I was always told to shoot a little lower because there is less gravity pushing down, in simple terms. So I aimed just below her armpit and let it fly. She took off running into the woods, it sounds like about 70 yards away. I could not tell if I hit her or not. It sounded to me that she was just spooked. I really started to doubt myself when I looked down at the spot where I shot and saw my arrow sticking out of the ground and I could not see any blood on it. This is when the walkie-talkie comes into play. I decided to call up Les and have him cock my bow again. But when I tried to hit the intercom button everything started sliding. So I decided to take my frustration out on the little piece of monkey poop and started beating it. During my little tirade I must've hit a button because I could hear him asking if I needed anything. But I could not respond because of the moistness and slippage. So I started beating it again and I heard him say I am coming. It didn't take him long to get to where I was and when he got there he asked me, "You have another yawning attack." We both got a good kick out of that.

Then I told him I shot at a doe but could not tell if I smoked it or not. So he went down to the spot where my arrow was and it was caked with blood. I thought to myself what a relief. It didn't take him long before he found her. We got all of my stuff ready to go, we headed back to his pickup dragging the deer and we called for my mom who had the shaggin wagon. It was still daylight so we decided to field dress her right there instead of back at camp. When we were looking at the entry and exit wounds we noticed that it was real low and we wondered what I hit. After looking through the organs we noticed that there was a perfect three blade slice right through the middle of the heart. So we saved the heart and brought it back to the camp for the guys to see. When we got back to the camp I told the guys I always hit what I'm aiming at. I had to get back at them for them ribbing the night before. By the way I think I still have the heart in my freezer if you want to see what I was aiming at...

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Part 3 coming soon…