I made this blog to tell about my experiences and thoughts while sharing products that have worked for me, being a quadriplegic hunter, fisherman and outdoorsman. It will mostly be everything hunting but with a little life mixed in.
Heading West River for North Dakota pronghorn rifle
season this week. Scouting starts Wednesday. I don't know what I would do
without the OnX app. Enter "mossyoak" to receive 20% off. #mossyoak
#mossyoakprostaff #onXHunt #knowwhereyoustand
Just when things look like they are going to be awesome forever,
something happens to remind you that life sometimes sucks. You get slapped in
the face and put in your place.
I like to live life by the fullest. Grab it by the reins
while spurring and hang on.
I guess I need to learn to slow down a little bit. But I
don't want to. Slow sucks. Getting knocked down sucks. Getting backup gets
tougher and tougher.
Time has been flying by and times have been great for a little
over a year. I was doing good. Minding my P's and Q's. Following doctor's orders.
Doing what they tell me. Still, I get knocked down.
Of course it has to happen this time of year. My favorite
time of year. Hunting season. Three weeks away from a tag I haven't had in 10
years. I think I was looking forward to it too much. Looking too far in
advance. I guess you have to live for now. Not next week. Live for today. Not
next month.
You would think you would get used to getting older. But
I think it is getting harder to get used to. I want shit to happen. Time is
ticking. I know I will prevail. I always do until I don't… That was supposed to
be funny. I am giggling. Are you?
But I know I will prevail with the help I get from
everyone around me. You are the best. Couldn't ask for more. I have said this
before and I will say it again. My situation couldn't have happened to a better
suited person because of the support I get.
Life doesn't suck. It never will. Just some moments suck.
But moments fade. Life doesn't. Tomorrow will be better. The next day even
better. I know this because I have been through the battle before and I know I
can take a whole lot more…
About a year ago my buddy Robbie from Montana told me he
wanted to make me a deer mount thingamajig that holds European deer skulls. I
told him it wasn't necessary but we went back and forth, back and forth and
finally I decided that I would let him make one for me.
He does absolutely great work with old scrap wood.
Besides these mounts he also makes pedestal mounts, turkey wall mount plaques plus
a lot of other outdoorsy stuff and things that make memories look good on the
wall.
I knew I would love what he was going to make for me but
I also knew that he had a lot on his plate. He is a very busy guy. He has a
beautiful wife, three children, he is a lineman for an electric company in Northwest
Montana and he also hunts too much. But he was determined to make me something
and it didn't take him long. Once he got started he was sending me pics about
every 3 1/2 minutes of the different steps through his process of making one of
these mounts. He is neat.
Most of the stuff he makes is made out of old wood. In
fact the mount he made for me is made out of compressed scrap pieces of
plywood. You would never guess it by looking at it.
I believe I got the package in early June. I wish I
would've taken a picture of the packing material he had. I giggled hard. The packing
was old T-shirts. But the T-shirts looked like he had to use for an emergency e-dump.
Or maybe they were just old oil rags. I am hoping the latter. Thankfully I did
take a picture of the box before I opened it. Even the post office got a kick
out of the names. Good grief.
As soon as I opened the package and saw what Robbie had
made for me I knew exactly what deer skull was going to adorn this masterpiece
of woodworking craftsmanship. It was going to be my 2018 crossbow 4 x 4 kill.
He is the largest bodied deer that I have taken with any weapon. He filled the freezer and is now is going to be the centerpiece of my wall. The
combination of the two was not going to suck.
I can't thank Robbie enough for making this for me. One
of these days we are going to hunt stuff and things together or maybe just
party in Wibauxlike it's 1999. There will be no safe sheep that night.…
As you can see, my wall is getting pretty crowded. Only skinheads for me for now on… Maybe not so much.
I always hear people talking about all these faraway
places where they are planning to go. All those places are great I am sure but
there are hundreds of places to go in our great state of North Dakota. I know
some of you who read that last line will scoff at the idea of interesting sights
to see in our great state, but there are. You just need to go out and look.
I am always surprised at people who have never been to
places that are close to them. I too am at fault for this. I have been to a lot
of places in southeastern North Dakota but there are a ton of places I want to
get to.
For example, everyone goes to the South unit of Theodore
Roosevelt National Park. But have you ever been to the North unit? Not many
have. I haven't. It is on my list.
Below are just some suggestions on some stuff and things
that are nearby and worth the trip.
Sheyenne National Scenic Byway is a beautiful drive no
matter what time of year.
As you can see, most of the above suggestions are on the
eastern part of the state. There are hundreds of destinations West River that I
have not mentioned. I need to do a walkabout, just get in the pickup and go
where the road takes me. One of these days…
The best part about it is that you can get a lot of these
great destinations on a weekend trip. You just have to do it. Hitting the
two-lane highway or gravel road opens your eyes to even more hidden gems that
you would never see on the interstate.
I first heard about this hunt three or four years ago from a
fellow hunter at Twist of Fate. So this year I decided to throw my name into
the application to see if I could get drawn. This hunt started in 1985 and is
located in Douglas, Wyoming. This rifle antelope hunt is for handicapped or
wheelchair-bound hunters. This event is totally funded, the only cost to the
hunter is the transportation to and from Wyoming. Even the meat processing is
donated. Anyway, I was first turned down because there were too many applicants
but I received a call in September because they had a spot open and it took me
one day to decide I was going to do it.
The hunt starts on October 1 but the fun begins on September
30. My parents and I took off for Douglas on the 29th, stayed in Spearfish the
first night and arrived in Douglas on the 30th. It is 676 miles from our house.
The hunters have the choice of either staying at a dorm room for free at the
fairgrounds in Douglas or staying at a motel. I chose the motel. I like my
privacy and I have to have ESPN. Plus, listening to a chorus of snoring in a
dorm room does not sound all that appealing.
On the first day it is a meet and greet, and also this is
the time finish the paperwork for the licensing. All licenses are paid for.
After lunch we all went to the shooting range south of town and shot a handful
of times. Just to make sure our rifles are still on and to have the guides get
familiar with our shooting styles. There were 11 hunters this year including
two blind hunters. The hunters come from all over the US. I believe the
farthest one was from Kentucky. The wind was blowing a constant 30 mph with
gusts over 40 mph while we were sighting in our rifles. But I was still able to
manage to hit the bull's-eye at 100 yards. Forgot to mention even the bullets
were supplied. After some trigger time at the range we all went to the Douglas
Trap Club and some of the hunters tried their luck shooting clay pigeons. Then
we all went back to the fairgrounds for supper. At the supper they also
recognized some of the guides that have been there for years. Some of them have
been there the full 29 years. They gave away five rifles to guides that have
been guiding for 20 years. Most of the guides are from the Douglas area but
some of them travel all the way from Illinois, including two of mine, Joe and
Andy. My other guide, Jake is from Douglas.
Breakfast was served on October 1 the first day of the hunt
at 5 AM. I met with my guides at 6:30 AM and we were on the road to where I was
going to hunt at the Scott Ranch east of Douglas about 5 miles. When we got on
the oilfield road into one of the pastures we saw our first antelope buck (also
affectionately known as a goat). This was around 7:10 AM. He was a loner. The guides,
Jake, Andy and Joe asked me if he was big enough and if I wanted to try and
take him. I am not picky, I like chops. I said, "He will look good on my
wall and freezer."
All the hunters received permits to shoot out of vehicles.
So my dad was in the passenger seat, Joe was driving, Andy was in back, Jake
was sitting beside me and I was facing out of the back passenger door of the
van. Once Jake got the rifle mount attached to my chair we tried to get in to
position for a shot. He was to the east of us and the sun was just breaking
over the bluffs. The goat was a little over 300 yards away. We had to maneuver
the van quite a few different times in order for me to get a clear shot. Once
we finally did, the sun was directly into my eyes. Jake took his hat off and
put it over the scope for sun protection. And I let a shot fire. Clean miss. I
think I shot over him because I saw no dust fly. He took off and ran about 50
yards and then started walking again. He ran into a draw and we lost him for
about ten minutes. Then he popped up and started walking to the West. Which was
perfect, he was going away from the sun. We had to move the van about a
quarter-mile until I could get lined up with him. This time he was 215 yards
away. I had a little trouble getting my scope on him but Jake grabbed the front
of the rifle and pulled it towards him a little bit. When he let go the scope
was directly on Mr. Antelope. He asked if I was on him and at that time I
pulled on the trigger and heard that great sound, "smack." The buck ran
about 10 yards, did a somersault and was down for the count. This was at 7:40
AM. It was the quickest hunt and the most enjoyable hunt that I have ever been
on. After some jumping and hollering we had a celebratory Skoal and we went and
checked him out. He was an old bastage and a fighter. The back of his neck was
rubbed raw. The guides told me he has probably been pushed around by some
younger bucks. He wasn't huge but he had great character. His horns are 10
& 9 3/4 inch.
After they gutted him, we had to wait a little bit for
another guide to come by with his pickup to bring him back to the trap club
where they take the official pictures. When we got there we thought for sure we
would have the first one but another hunter got one about 7:05 AM. Crazy. After
pictures we went to the meat locker in town that donates the processing and
filled out the paperwork. The meat was ready by Thursday morning when we left.
After the meat locker I decided to go back to the motel. I took a nice three
hour nap. The other hunters had lunch at the trap club that was sponsored by
one of the groups from Douglas.
That night there was a supper and auction at the Moose Lodge
in town. There were close to 60 items on the auction. They raised over $10,000
in about two hours. It is crazy how that community supports this program. One
guy from Savage Arms brought a knife for over $2000. It had a giraffe hide sheath
and I do not remember what type of bone the handle was made of but it was not
ugly.
On October 2, breakfast is supposed to start at 5 AM unless
all of the hunters fill on the first day. But breakfast started late. All 11
hunters filled there tags before noon on the first day. That goes to show how
good the guides are. That is really totally unbelievable. Each hunter gets
about one section of land to hunt on. Some get more, some less depending on the
number of animals. All of the land down there is private. For most, this is the
only time in the season that the landowners do not charge for hunting. After
talking to some of the landowners, they think the numbers were down about 70%
from just last year. That really goes to show how good the guides are. 11 for
11 is nuts, especially when you consider all of the factors going into some of
these hunter's disabilities.
That same day in the afternoon the guides took us for a tour
to see the sights. There is some awesome country to see down there. Also on
this night they had a supper at the American Legion. After the supper they gave
away awards to hunters. They had free mounts to the longest shot, shortest shot
and the biggest antelope taken. Biggest antelope was 14 3/4 with ivory tips,
shot by Jon Lee from Alabama. They also gave each hunter a plaque with a
picture of their antelope and guides. We each also received knives from Blind
Horse Knives. They don't suck.
I didn't stay too long at the awards banquet because we knew
there was a storm coming the next afternoon and we wanted to get the heck out
of there before they closed any highways. Which is a good thing, because I 90
is closed today. We made it home yesterday about 8:40 PM. It was a long drive
but it was worth it.
I can't say enough about the Helluva Hunt organization. It
is top notch all the way around. I knew I was going to like the guys when I saw
them drinking Busch Light at 11 AM the first day. They are also putting on a
hunt for Wounded Warriors that starts today. Too bad they don't have as good of
weather as we did. I can't say enough about Gary and Jane Stearns. They helped
start this event 29 years ago and are the ones that keep it going, with the
community of Douglas and people from all over the US.
As you can tell, I wrote this story in 2013 right after I
got home from the hunt. The memories are still as vivid as the day they were made.
Sadly the Helluva Hunt organization decided to call it quits after 30+ years.
It had just gotten to be too much. My hats are off to Gary and Jane, and the
whole community of Douglas who gave hunters like me the opportunity to do what
we love. Thank you.
Want to give back? Want to give back helping future
outdoorsmen? Have you ever considered becoming a Hunter Education Voluntary
Instructor?
"There is always a need for new instructors,"
said John Mazur the Hunter Education Coordinator for the North Dakota Game
& Fish. "We have a pool of aging instructors reaching retirement from
the program and we are always looking to replace them with new instructors. There
are also instructors that move away or have other life obligations that prevent
them from instructing courses. The need to recruit at least 60 new instructors
a year is necessary to supplement turnover," explained John.
In 2015 there was 650 instructors in North Dakota. "Our
need varies depending on the location of the instructors. We could easily
utilize a minimum of 60 instructors in each of our larger cities (Fargo,
Bismarck, Minot, Grand Forks, and Dickinson) In our mid-range towns we could
utilize 25 instructors (Jamestown, Devils Lake, Williston, etc.) and in smaller
towns we could use 1-3 instructor teams consisting of 4-6 instructors per
team," said Mazur.
I had thought about this for a couple years and in 2015 I
started the process of becoming a certified instructor for the North Dakota
Game & Fish. The hardest part is taking the first step, actually signing up.
Once the process begins it is quite simple. There are multiple steps to take in
order to become certified but the Game & Fish will lead you through the
steps. John said, "The process varies for everyone depending on their
eagerness to get certified," when asked how long the process takes.
The first step is sending the Game & Fish a letter of
intent or e-mail. In the letter/e-mail make sure to have your full name and
mailing address. In a couple weeks you should receive a volunteer instructor
agreement card. You will need to fill out the information and mail it back. The
Game & Fish enforcement division will use this information to conduct a
background check.
Once approved, you will be sent a packet of information
that includes: an instructor’s manual, instructions for completing an online
instructor course, a W9 form to get reimbursed $13 for the online course fee, a
quiz to take after reading the instructor manual and a prepaid envelope to
return the completed quiz and W9 form.
If you are worried about taking the written and online
quizzes, don't be. The online course lets you read each chapter and then there
are about 10 questions at the end. You do need to get a certain percentage
right in order to pass. But if you read the material it should be no problem
for any hunter. If I remember correctly, the online course took me about two
hours to complete. The written quiz takes questions right out of the
instructor's manual. So again there is no need to worry about these exams.
You will then need to assist in teaching a hunter education
class under a certified instructor. I was nervous at the first night of class
but that goes away quickly when you meet the kids and see their eagerness to
take the class. If you do not know a certified instructor or where there is a
hunter education class in your area, the Game & Fish will help you in
making these contacts.
The class consists of 14 hours which are all taught in
the classroom. This may seem to be a daunting amount of time but once you start
the time goes by quickly.
When the class is over, the mentoring instructor sends
the Game & Fish paperwork that shows you helped with the course. After a
few weeks, you will receive a volunteer packet which includes an instructor ID
number.
If you do not want to become an instructor and still want
to help with a hunter education class, there are other ways to help. Classes
are always looking for guest speakers that talk about anything outdoors, help
doing gun safety practicals and helping on test night.
I have only helped with a couple years of hunter
education classes so far because of medical reasons but I am glad I am became a
certified instructor. The benefits are great which include sharpening your own
hunter safety knowledge, meeting local youth and ensuring that I am doing a
part to keep the youth safe and informed on what it is to become a responsible
hunter and outdoorsmen.
If you have questions, you can either call (701) 328-6615 or
email huntered@nd.gov
I have been lucky that most of the businesses that I want
to go to are wheelchair accessible. In the last couple months I have gone to a
couple watering holes in my surrounding area that I could only get into by
using my Roll a Ramp. It was no big deal. There were always people there
willing to help unload, set up and load the ramp whenever I wheeled up.
When I first met the owners of TJ's Corral, we hit it off
right away. They are entertaining. I was there probably three times before I
showed them my wheelchair accessible pickup conversion. Tanya's exact words
were, "Get out the front door!" Then she told me that she was working
on getting a ramp built. I kind of thought it was just talk. But within the
week a ramp was built. It is perfect. Jared and Tanya rock.
I first met HJ and Mary about a year ago. I believe even
then HJ was talking about starting a new bar. We hung out at his place a couple
times and rocked out. Over the winter the plans for their new bar started
coming together. The grand opening for the Rusty Spur was on June 14. I was
able to get in to the remodeled old building by using my Roll a Ramp. But HJ
and Mary promised me that they would have a ramp built as soon as possible. It
wasn't a couple weeks later and the ramp was built. Talk about accommodating.
Every time I have been there it has been a good time.
As my friend Gwen said, "Clint, you are making the
world ADA compliant one bar at a time. Awesome!"
I can't thank all of these awesome people and their
businesses enough for what they have done for not only me but the whole
wheelchair/handicapped community. Barriers suck. But because of you guys a
couple barriers have been removed. You all don't suck.
Some of you may know that I have been giving away trigger
mechanisms that we invented for my rifles, crossbows and shotguns. If you don't
know the story click on this link. I only have three or four triggers left to
give away. I keep track of where I am sending them and save the responses that
I get. In the last response, this thank you that was added sparked me to write
this blog.
"Clint, I rewatched your video on YouTube and I have to say, you
do one hell of a good job when it comes to shooting. Your injury must be kind
of high, I am sure that along with your ideas of what will and what wouldn't
work, you have some pretty good family or friends that work with you to come up
with ideas that work.I am a C5-6 quad and have good movement in my arms, no
finger movement. My Dad and I have come up with some shooting apparatuses, but
nothing like yours.I take my hat off to you and whoever's helps you come up
with the ideas you use to shoot.The regular able bodied shooter has nothing on you."
That thank you e-mail made me look back again and appreciate
everything that everyone has done for me. I truly have the best support. I have
the best family, friends and girlfriend that a lucky guy in a wheelchair could ask
for.
In fact, my whole blog is pretty much a thank you for
everyone who helps me do my stuff and things. In every blog entry one of my
family or friends is helping me do something. Without any of this support I
would not be me. I want to thank all of you for letting me be me. You guys
don't suck.
I remember getting introduced to the great outdoors from
many different people, not just family. I wish I had more pictures from these events
to share, but sometimes I think it is good there aren't as many pictures because
without the pictures that helps to remember those great times. I think it makes
the memories more vivid and also more awesome.
I remember the first time I was introduced to anyone
shooting a bow was when I was at my friend Cody's place in town and his oldest
brother Travis was in the backyard practicing shooting his bow at a target. A
year or two later it was also with my friend Cody that I think I really
developed my passion for bow hunting. We were sitting at his house when his
brother Josh (Toehead) and one of their family friends Trevor asked Cody and me
if we wanted to come push some river bottom for them. I really didn't have a
clue what we were in for but Cody was gung ho so I went along. I think we were around
12 or 13 when this event took place.
I remember we were headed west on 46 when Trevor and
Toehead explained to us where we were going and what we would do. We were
headed to the trap. This is an oxbow of land almost entirely surrounded by the
Sheyenne River around the Kathryn area. The trap is where the river circles
around and almost touches itself. Where the water almost touches itself, there is
a thin piece of land that only allows a narrow trail, barely walkable in
between the almost island and the mainland. The trap is almost entirely wooded
and is a deer haven. Trevor explained to us that Cody and I would start walking,
one close to the river, the other would be in a little bit and push the trees
in a circle to hopefully send the deer out to the trap where Toehead and Trevor
would hopefully get a shot.
I remember the whole experience was awesome. Being with
two older guys that we looked up to, going to this magical place where big deer
were possible and walking through the woods in an area I had never been before
developed my love for the not only hunting but bow hunting in particular. I
think Cody and I pushed a dozen or so deer out through the trap that day and I
even think Trevor took a shot but there was no blood shed. I think we walked a
couple shelter belts on the way back to Enderlin. But neither of the older guys
was successful. But the stories and the comradery that was shared clinched it
for me. It wasn't about the kill, it never is. I didn't even have a bow in my
hand. Just being there, out there with nature at that time in that spot was
perfect for me.
I remember less than two years later I was saving up my
money to buy my own bow. That is where the passion or some might say obsession began.
I remember my first ever fishing trip when we traveled to
Canada. I actually went there twice, two years in a row when I was 13 and 14
years of age. On the first trip it was Scott, Spencer, Logan, Floyd, Bob, Joe,
Ben and I. The second trip included Scott, Spencer, Logan, Don B, Danny, Joe,
Ben and I. Some of the next few stories I can't remember what happened on what
trip, I am getting old.
I remembered both times we went to the village of Minaki in
the province of Ontario at the resort called Paradise Cove. The town is located
on the Winnipeg River system. It doesn't look like a river though, thousands of
islands surrounded by numerous lakes and bays. We were fishing mainly for
walleye but I believe I caught mostly smallmouth bass. There was also some
northern caught. But on both trips it was good that we brought along food
because as always the resort owner said, "You guys should've been here
last week. The fish were jumping in the boat!"
The amount of memories made here are too numerous to
mention.
I remember driving East on 46 at the crack ass of dawn
and seeing all of the fields covered in water. The night before we got several
inches of rain and that was the summer when the wet cycle began. Actually when
we got to Fargo and after we picked up Scott and the boys, we couldn't go
underneath any of the overpasses on I-29 because they were all flooded. Even
when we were on the frontage road by Nodak the boat actually started to float
off of the trailer because the water was so high. Good times. We almost turned
around but glad we didn't.
I remember the night before down at Joe's eating so much
side pork that I wasn't able to eat side pork again until about a year and a
half ago. Burping and farting side pork in a Ford F150, single cab pickup with
three other guys for seven hours kind of put me off of side pork for 25 years
or so. Sidebar: That pickup blew up on the way home. We had to add a quart of
oil every hundred miles. Smoking good it was. The next summer we went through
bags of pistachios on the way up and the way down to Canada. I still haven't
eaten any of those since. That reminds me, the only cassette Scott had in his
suburban was Hank Williams Junior's greatest hits volume one. Kaw-Liga, ooh… I
still know all of those songs word for word and it is still one of my favorite
albums of all time.
I remember the second trip to Canada and having my
drivers permit. I started driving South of the border around Pembina. The older
guys thought getting through the border with a 14-year-old driving would go a
lot smoother. They were correct. The border patrol just asked me a couple
questions and in no time we were in Canada. They didn't even check for the
illegal bait that was under my cousin while he was sleeping. They also didn't
even check for the extra cases of beer. Good thing I didn't look like a
smuggler at 14. Please don't send the Canadian Mounties after us, I believe the
statute of limitations has passed anyway. Hopefully…
Logan, Spencer, Ben and I with our days catch.
I remember driving through the worst torrential downpour
I have ever witnessed in my life on a two-lane highway somewhere in Ontario,
North of Lake of the Woods. It was so bad that they made me pull over to the
side of the road. It came down so hard it sounded like hail. But there was no
hail. The downpour didn't last that long but I think we were pulled over for
about ten minutes. When we started driving again it felt like I was swerving
all over the road, even my passengers were beginning to worry if there was something
wrong with me. Then my cousin Scott said, "Pull over again at the next
intersection I want to check something." Once he got back to the back of
the trailer he pulled the plug from the boat. Everybody got out of the suburban
and laughed at the scene, except for me. There was so much water in the boat
that the water was almost starting to go over the sides. No wonder why I was
getting jerked around and was swerving. That is a lot of weight and movement
when you don't know it is there. Once the boat was done peeing, I was back in
the driver seat all the way to Minaki. Good times.
I remember driving through the maze of islands going to
sand beach. It was a mythical place that my uncle Floyd used to tell us about
where they caught hundreds and hundreds of walleye. I remember trying to find a
lake called Lost Lake amongst these thousands of islands. The water was low so
we had to lift the motor all the way up to dodge the submerged rocks while
making our way into hidden treasure. It would be a safe bet to say not many
have been through this passage and on that lake. That's neat.
Uncle Floyd, Spencer, Uncle Joe, Logan, myself and Ben at sand beach.
I remember trying to find landmarks on our way to and
from fishing so we wouldn't get lost. I remember Scott, Bob, Spencer and Logan
getting lost for an hour or two on their way back to the cabin. But they claim
they knew exactly where they were. Ha. Good times.
I remember one morning flying through islands in Floyd's
new boat when all of a sudden he started going straight towards one of the
islands. Joe and I looked at each other concerned and about that time Floyd
pulled back on the throttle as he made his way to the front of the boat. As he
jumped onto shore with his cowboy boots, as the hull of the boat was grinding
on the solid rock shore and as he grabbed for the toilet paper he yelled,
"I got the scours!" I still laugh when I hear that story. Too much
syrup. Good times.
I remember the fishing was always great but the catching,
not so much. I remember going back into a shallow bay throwing daredevils and
watching either the biggest northern or a muskie follow my lure numerous times
with no strike. I wish I knew the figure 8 retrieval back then. I remember
seeing my first waterfall. I remember seeing my first bear tracks that turned out
to be my cousins pulling a trick on me. I remember homo milk. I remember the
numerous Bode stories. I remember a
lot of firsts on these Canadian fishing trips. I will remember them forever.
I remember the first time I went down to Todd's. His
place is South of 27 along the Sheyenne River. Talk about deer heaven. I had
never seen so many deers. Walking through that river bottoms that first time
made me feel like Daniel Boone or Davy Crockett. The hunting down there is top
notch and the habitat is the best around. The first time I was down there I was
just a pusher. I didn't own a bow at that time. This time it was Todd, Cody,
Toehead, Christopher and I. We pretty much just stumbled around and pushed deer
in and out of the trees along the river in the middle of December. I know we
crossed the frozen Sheyenne a couple times. I can remember this day like it was
yesterday. It was a blast. Nobody got a shot that day with their bow but that
didn't dampen the awesome time.
I remember going duck hunting for the first time with my
single shot 16gauge. I did not have a driver’s license at the time and I didn't
have the guts yet to steal the Cavalier. I think I was around 13 years old. I
went with one of my dad's buddies, George. He was a waterfowl hunter. He has
passed on now. But every time I saw him at the VFW we always had that in
common. We never shot a duck that day but we did jump a couple roosts. I should
have thanked him before he passed on. He was a good guy.
I remember fishing on the Maple with CL and Savage. This
wasn't my first time fishing of course but this is the actual first time I
remember. I was also with my cousin Ben. He is a couple years younger than I and
I think I was 11 at the time. I do remember it was entertaining. We were
fishing by the old pink house and of course we were fishing for northerns. The
only thing I caught or I should say snagged that day was a huge snapping
turtle. I remember I was on the East side of the river South of the bridge. I
thought I snagged a log or something. But eventually there was a prehistoric,
dinosaur looking head slowly popping out of the water staring at me with its
jaws wide open. I could see my red and white daredevil hooked in its mouth. As
soon as Savage saw his head popping out of the water he was yelling, "Don't
let him get away!" Then Savage started running from the other side of the
river, across the bridge tripping and fumbling along the river bank trying to
get to my fishing pole. Of course as soon as he got to me the line snapped and
the prehistoric monster slowly sunk into the murky Maple. I have always
wondered if that turtle is still alive. It is crazy to think that that turtle still
could be alive. Scary bastages. Or maybe Savage cooked him up in the soup pot.
That turtle soup is good stuff.
I remember my first time hunting mourning doves with CL.
He shot a couple doves the night before, cleaned them and we used their
carcasses for decoys. I thought he was crazy. But he shoved a couple sticks in
their bodies and placed them on bush by a fence line overlooking the creek that
runs by Stordalen's. It wasn't more than a couple minutes and the birds were
flocking in. I don't think I shot any that day. I know I didn't. But CL filled
his limit and we had mourning dove on toast that night. Damn those birds are
tasty. Lightly coated in flour, fried in butter and they are melt in your mouth
tasty.
I remembered checking one of the trap lines with my
cousin Steve and Don B. I believe it was South of Enderlin somewhere. I was
only along with them once while checking the line. But it was memorable. Any
time with these two characters is memorable, trust me. After that experience I
went and bought some gopher traps the next spring. I didn't do so hot, but I
had fun.
I remember my first time pheasant hunting with my cousin
Jason (Spooy) and one of his buddies Dennis. Before we went out they tested my
shooting skills with my old single shot 16gauge. One of them had a bottle of
snoose juice. They got me ready, stood behind me, then threw the plastic bottle
up in the air and yelled rooster. The bottle only when about 10 yards and I
shot. Then we went and inspected the bottle. There was only about a handful of
BB holes in the bottle but they both said, "Good enough." That day I
was treated more like a flushing dog but I did not care. I was one of the guys
that day. I was eight years younger but it didn't matter.
I remember walking one cornfield with Dennis and Jason that
day. We only kicked out one rooster on the walk which jumped up right in front
of me. By the time I collected my thoughts, I didn't pull the trigger because
the rooster was too far away. When we got back to Jason's pickup, Barry (Door
Slammer) pulled up in his pickup. He first said, "Why didn't you shoot
Clint?" I told him I thought it was too far away. He told me, "You can't
hit em if you don't shoot." Wiser words have never been spoken. He then
reminded us of the regulations of not being able to hunt corn fields when they
are unharvested. I had no clue. Jason and Dennis just laughed. Good times.
This photo is from 2009.
I remember the first time I walked the Maple River
northeast of Enderlin. My cousin Jason and a couple of his buddies had me push
the river bottom from Jesse's to Jerry's. I remember there were deer going in every
direction. I think it was either Brady or Door Slammer who were walking with
me. Nobody got a deer that they but it was an experience. I have hunted that
parcel of land many times since this memory. In fact, that is the same place
where I shot my first deer with a crossbow. The whole valley now is a
wasteland. It is difficult to even drive through that area for me. All of the
trees are gone or dead. This is because of the Maple River Dam that was erected
and completed in 2007. It still makes me angry in my facial region. Anyways, I
digress.
I remember looking up to these guys in my hunting and
fishing education. They were older, maybe not so much wiser but they knew more
than I. A lot more than I and I wanted to learn. I think every young boy goes
through the same thing growing up in the country. Hunting and fishing was life.
It teaches you a lot of valuable stuff and things. Life without these things is
still life but not as pleasurable. Most of these events took place in the early
90s. There were no hunting channels, there was just Tony Dean, Babe Winkelmann
and Marty Stouffer to name a few. Thumbing through Outdoor Life magazine made
the imagination run wild with big bucks and stringers full of fish. You needed
to learn from the older guys or needed to get your knowledge from reading. A
pair of blue jeans and some hand-me-down Army camouflage was all the hunting
attire anyone needed in those days. It was a simpler time. Man that makes me
feel old saying that. But it was.
I remember these times in the middle of winter staring
out the window. I remember these times when I am in my hunting blind. I
remember these times when I am in the hospital. I remember these times a lot. These
were good times. I remember these days like they were yesterday. I hope kids
these days still have memories like these to look back on. It wasn't just about
the kill. It was about the experience. I don't think I ever witnessed anyone
kill a deer with a bow until I did when I was 18. It was about the comradery.
It was about the learning. It was about the anticipation. It was about the
thrill of what could be. It was fuck awesome.
