2020 Crossbow Buck and stuff.

This bow season has been pretty quiet for me. Not much action at all except for skinheads. But there have been plenty of those. Which is a good sign. But in the seven sits I have only seen one buck and that was a button buck. The trail cams were full of nice deers but of course the buckaroos were nocturnal jerks. But usually persistence pays off. Even for the lucky boy in the wheelchair…

On November 5 I got into my chair around 3:30 PM to get ready for the evening hunt. It was my eighth sit of bow season. I put on my dark camouflage Mossy Oak sweatshirt, my lucky Mossy Oak beenie, my Mossy Oak facemask while dad attached the Carbon Express Intercept crossbow to my wheelchair. Then as usual I have him cock the bow and I am ready to head to the blind. The hunting blind is only 80 yards from my bedroom. That doesn't suck. Very handy.

It was a really slow night. I believe the temperature was 60° when I got into the blind. I didn't know if the warm temperatures were going to keep the deers from moving during daylight hours or not. But with the rut to just about start you can never tell what they are going to do. It was also pretty windy. The wind was around 15 mph coming out of the west, with higher gusts. This is a perfect wind for where I am sitting. Well any wind from the west or northwest is perfect because I am south and east of where the deers usually come from. This is the same spot I have shot my last three bow bucks. This location is either hit or miss but eventually stuff and things happen here. Especially during prime time, when the bucks are roaming looking for standing heat.

This night was different because there was nary any vermin. There were no rabbits. There were no squirrels. And there were only a couple annoying blue jays squawking around to entertain me. As I was waiting for that golden half-hour when the deer usually move, I decided I would text my sister Shelie. I sent her a text at 4:43 PM asking her, "How has it been going?" She responded at 5:11 PM with, "Need to hang with you one of these nights." Sunset was at 5:09 PM. If something was going to happen it was going to happen quickly.

 I was just about to text her back when I heard some branches breaking to the north of me. I could tell it was not a squirrel or other vermin. Where the noise was coming from is kind of a jungle of trees. All of a sudden I saw antlers making their way through the brush. This buck was making his own trail through the small saplings of undergrowth below the tall trees. He looked like a 5 x 5 when he was making his way through. He looked big and I knew if he gave me a shot I was going to take it. It took him a while to get through the belt but I knew he was coming directly towards me. When he got out of the belt he was only 10 yards away. The problem was he was facing me. I wanted to wait for a broadside shot. He was calm and collected. He wasn't anxious or excited. I knew if I was patient he would give me a shot. The wind was from the west and he came from the north, so he had no clue where I was. I was south of him, looking north/northwest. All of a sudden there was a gust of wind from the west and he raised his head and looked in that direction. His backend came towards the south and he was almost perfectly broadside. Just a little bit quartering towards me. I had him in my scope already waiting for him to make his final mistake. I aimed right behind his left shoulder and pulled back on the trigger. The next thing I knew was I saw his back legs kick high in the air and I heard the crack of the arrow busting through him. As soon as he was hit he ran directly southwest, which is very rare. Usually they bust straight west or straight north after they are shot. I listened but I did not hear him crash. I heard him bust through some old tree growth but I never heard him do the crappie flop.

Now the waiting starts. I knew it was a good shot. But even sometimes if you know it is good shot, stuff and things happen. And sometimes those stuff and things that happen are not good stuff and things. But I was pretty confident with the whole scenario that just took place. I try to follow the arrow when I shoot at a deer but it is pretty hard to follow an arrow that is flying at 365 feet per second. My Carbon Express Intercept crossbow makes things happen not slow, especially when your target is only 10 yards away. Giggity.

It is so hard to wait. But you need to do that in order to make sure that the game expires and you do not push it. So I decided to text my sister back. This is what I said at 5:27 PM, "I was going to respond to you right away but then a buck came in and I shot it so that's what just happened. Cross your fingers. That we find it." She responded, "Holy! I hope so too!"

The tall 4 x 4 that came in second.

I next called my mom at the house and asked her if she could bring out some water because I just shot a buck. She knows if I call during daylight something is up. I could tell in her voice she was excited. She said, "Was it big?" I told her to wait about 10 minutes or so. The next thing I did was I called Don B. He answered with his usual suspicious hello when I call him when he knows I am bow hunting. I told him what happened and he said he would call our friend T-rav and head on out. They are my tracking and gutting crew. Don also told me to have my mom make him a sammich because he was, "STARVING!" So like a good boy I did what I was asked. So when I got off the phone with my mom about the food order I heard some more noise to the north. All of a sudden I could see antlers coming, this time through the path that goes through the shelter belt to my north. I could tell it was big. Not small he was. Bigger than the buck I just shot. He came into the same spot where the other guy was standing. It was the tall 4 x 4 I have had on a couple different trail cams all year. He is a doozy. He stood in front of me for maybe 30 seconds. Even if I didn't shoot that other one earlier, I still didn't have a shot at this guy. He was anxious and jittery. He was either looking for a fight or another f-word. But he was so rutiful, so beautiful. But he strutted right out of my dreams. I hope he makes it through the season. Because he would be another shoulder mount.

The next thing I knew he walked to the west and I heard the house door close. Mom was on her way out. All of a sudden I heard another noise in the trees. The noise was coming from the north again. This time it was a little basket rack 4 x 4. He was standing in the same exact spot the two others stood. But his attention was quickly looking straight south towards the opening where my mom was walking. He wasn't too freaked out but he ran to the west. It really sucks that my trail cam did not take any pics during all of this. It is crazy that there were three buckaroos in the same exact spot within fifteen minutes probably. When she got to the pop-up blind she lifted the front of the blind and I drove out while I told her the story. She said she heard that last buck and saw it run away when she was walking up. We then made our way back to the shop to wait for Don B and T-rav. It wasn't too much longer and I heard a pickup pull-up. It was them. My dad also pulled up right behind them. So we made our way back to the scene.

On the way to the scene Don B munched on one of the ham sammiches that Deb thankfully made. He even let T-rav have one. When we got back to the crime scene I reenacted what the buck did. We looked around for blood on the spot where he was shot. There was nothing. Then they both looked for my arrow in the trees behind where he was standing. There was no luck. We wanted to see if there was a good blood on the arrow. Could not find the arrow. So we decided to look for blood in the direction where he ran. There was no blood where he ran either. My heart dropped. That is a sucky feeling. Then Don B made a plan that T-rav would follow where the buck ran to, he would circle around and see if the buck came out the other side of the trees. It wasn't more than a couple minutes later and Don B yelled, "Here he is!" I was relieved. Because it is never a sure thing.

Picture taken at 5:57 PM.

As I was making my way down the path Don B said, "He is a good buck!" I was getting excited as I made my way to him and there was no ground shrinkage when I finally spotted him. He was a 5 x 4. Evidently I counted wrong in the excitement earlier. His neck was all swolled up and he stunk. He was definitely in rut. We decided to pull him back to the opening where he was shot to take some pictures. They both grabbed a side of the antlers and drug him the short distance. T-rav said as we were making our way, "I would not have passed up this buck. Congrats buddy."

From where he tipped over from where he was shot was probably 25 yards. That is good stuff. I think I've only had two other deer that traveled less distance after getting shot. The weird thing about this guy was that there was very little blood anywhere. It would have been a hard track if he made it farther but good thing my Muzzy Trocar 100 grain broadheads did a lot of internal damage. The arrow was not in him and it was a clean pass through, through both lungs and part of the liver. The inside of him was a pool. No wonder he did not make it very far. I saved the heart and liver so I can eat like a king. But before we gutted him we took some pictures. They even turned out pretty good. Well how could they not with the three of us…

After they got him gutted, my dad came out with the Bobcat and they put him in the bucket. That worked pretty slick. Thought about hanging him in the shop overnight but with the warm temperatures I decided to bring him to the meat locker in town. Dad drove the Bobcat towards my pickup and he lifted the bucket perfectly so we could slide the buck right into the pickup box. I told the boys after we get the deer to the locker we are going to hit the Spare Time for celebratory libations and to raise a little hell. They agreed after I twisted their arms. On the way to town I called Kevin, the owner of Maple Valley Meats to tell him what the plan was. He told me congrats and to send him pics. I also called Sarah to tell her the good news. Plus I had a conversation with Uncle Joe.

Once we got to the locker it didn't take long for dad to get everything done. Easy peasy. It pays to know people. Good people. After that we walked over to the Spare Time and met mom. I ordered the first round of drinks and pretty soon my sister Shelie and her husband Brad were there. Also Tito and Mr. French showed up. Mikey and Randi were also part of the celebration. The rounds were plenty and often. It was a good time. There was a lot of stuff and things that were talked about. But I knew I got in the chair at 3:30 PM and I didn't want to stay out too late. I try to keep my chair time below eight hours a day. Plus it was a school night for the other people that are not retired. I believe we got home around 11 PM. By this time I was starving and needed something to eat. I didn't get an earlier sammich. But I got a huge bowl of chicken tortilla soup that did not suck. I then proceeded to go to bed. Some might call it passing out. To each their own.

I didn't hunt that much this bow season but the hunts that I did do were good stuff. I have hunted some prime land on the Red River and Sheyenne River, plus my home base. Thanks everyone who made these hunts possible. I want to thank everyone who helps me do what I love to do. Without all of you I don't know what I would do. You know who you are. Thank you.

Soon the freezer will be full of perfect, tasty deer meat and every time I take a bite I will remember. I will remember this hunt. Every hunt has a story and every story becomes a memory. I love these memories. It is what I live for.

Next up is a North Dakota mule deer buck tag in unit 4C. Stay tuned…

Thanks for reading, Clint. 

If I were able bodied and stuff…

If I were able bodied I would take it for granted…
If I were able bodied I wonder what I would be doing.
If I were able bodied I wonder if I would still be the same.
If I were able bodied I could do anything.
If I were able bodied I wonder where I would be.
If I were able bodied I hope I wouldn't disappoint myself.
If I were able bodied I wonder who would be next to me.
If I were able bodied I would probably be up to no good.
If I were able bodied I wonder if I would I be your friend?
If I were able bodied I would not be writing this.
If I were able bodied I would feel different.
If I were able bodied I hope I would take time for you.
If I were able bodied I wouldn't be the same.
If I were able bodied I would have less regrets.
If I were able bodied I hope I would not waste it.
If I were able bodied I wouldn't be as emotional.
If I were able bodied I don't know what I would do.
If I were able bodied I hope I wouldn't disappoint you.
If I were able bodied I wonder if you would be my friend?
If I were able bodied I wouldn't think this way.
If I were able bodied I hope I would accomplish more.
If I were able bodied I hope I knew what I had.
If I were able bodied I would know what I could do.
If I were able bodied I wonder if I would still be here.
If I were able bodied I couldn't be the same.
If I were able bodied I hope I wouldn't suck.
If I were able bodied I hope I wouldn't take it for granted…

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Great Grandpa Waldie.

Great Grandpa with a northern from the James.

Here is a conglomeration of I believe two different obituaries for my Great Grandpa Waldie. One obituary came from a newspaper and the other from a town Centennial book. For those of you who do not know, he would be my mom's grandpa on her mother's side. My Grandma Gladys Schmitz's dad. From what I hear he was quite a character. He had some unique sayings and thoughts. He would have been neat to know but he passed before I was born.

Arthur John Waldie (1891 - 1971)

Art a native of LaMoure county was born in Sheridan Township on March 15, 1891. He attended schools in Sheridan Township and the Agricultural College in Fargo, N.D. His parents were John and Jennie Waldie. Art married Mary Larson on May 19, 1910. Mary was the daughter of Knute and Andrena Larson and she was born at Eagle Bend, Iowa on April 3, 1888. She went to school at Mona, Iowa. Art and Mary lived in Dickey where they ran the livery stable until 1912. They farmed in the Dickey, Marion area until 1939. Art later worked in a logging camp in Kalispell, Mont., and at Boeing Aircraft in Washington. They returned to Dickey and Art was custodian at the Dickey School. They retired in Enderlin in 1959.

Art and Mary have 3 children: ERVIN of Miles City, Mont.; GLADYS of Enderlin, N.D.; and DORIS of Hartley, Iowa. Art passed away March 30, 1971 and Mary on August 12, 1970.

Dorothy Tangney Berg, "Art loved horses and animals. As a child we all loved to visit at his farm. He married Mary and they had 3 children. Mary was older than Art but she made a wonderful wife for him. We gave Art a Boston Terrier puppy that our male had fathered. Art always had that dog in his truck with him. They lived on a farm out of Dickey once and then later lived near Enderlin near their daughter, Gladys, and family. He loved his Grandchildren."

Glenn Verner Dill Jr. wrote in 1990, "He ran a livery stable in Dickey till 1912; farmed Dickey-Marion area till 1939; worked in logging camp in Kalispell; worked at Boeing Aircraft in Washington; and finally was custodian at Dickey school until retiring to Enderlin in 1959."

Arthur J. Waldie, 80, of Enderlin died in a car truck crash near Marion, N. Dak. on March 30. Funeral services were held April 1 at Enderlin with interment in the Enderlin cemetery.

The couple farmed in the Dickey, Marion area for many years, retiring in 1959. They moved to Enderlin to live near a daughter, Mrs. Erv. (Gladys) Schmitz.

Running the line in Dickey County.

The Waldies celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary last June at the Schmitz home. Art Waldie was well known for his interest in conservation and wildlife preservation for many years.

Mrs. Waldie died August 12, 1970. Surviving are a son and two daughters Ervin Waldie, Miles City, Mont., Mrs. Ervin (Gladys) Schmitz, Enderlin; and Mrs. Verner (Doris) Christie, Hartley, IA; two sisters Mrs. Wm. (Helen) Tangney, McAllen, Texas; and Mrs. Jack (Georgia) Bush, Hudson, Wisc.; 11 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren.

He was preceeded in death by his parents and a brother, Clayte Waldie.

The above information was taken from the link below.

https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Waldie-27

Working on some Lindemann stuff and things for the next blog entry.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

New wheelchair and stuff.

A couple years ago I was getting a new backrest put on my wheelchair and Don the Occupational Therapist asked, "How old is your chair?" I really had no clue. So they looked it up and they found out it was purchased in 2001. I could not believe how old it was. They also could not believe how old it was. They were going to give me an award for the oldest chair to come through the door.

The reason why I never got a new chair was because there was really nothing wrong with the one that I had. Like I said I had to put a new backrest on it but that had nothing to do with the actual mechanics or the motor of the chair. Also over the years I have gotten new seat cushions to help with pressure and stuff but my chair was still the same old chair. The only thing I have ever had wrong with the chair was the wiring got a little brittle in one spot where they would get kinked. But my brother-in-law Brad rewired it and it was better than when it was new.

Another reason why I like my wheelchair is because I have made quite a few modifications to it. The two biggest modifications were of course related to hunting/fishing. Priorities. My crossbow mount attaches to one of the wheelchair canes. The canes are the posts that come up behind my back that have handles on them. My rifle mount is attached underneath my seat and has been customized to fit that particular chair. Also my fishing pole holder attaches to the same rifle mount. It would be hard to give up these things or to modify them on the new chair. I would rather stick with the old chair and be able to hunt then get an upgrade.

When I was getting the new backrest put on the chair the therapist said that I really should be looking into getting a new one just in case something goes wrong with this one. He said it is good to have a backup because most chairs do not last as long as the one that you have. So this spring I decided to pull the trigger and order a new wheelchair. I guess insurance will pay for a new one about every five years. So I was long overdue. For 19 years my wheelchair did me good and we did a lot of stuff and things together.

The problem with ordering a new chair was I needed to make sure that the frame and base was the same exact size as my old chair. I needed this to be exact because my pickup was built around my wheelchair. I was a little leery about ordering something and then finding out when I got it that it would not fit in my customized pickup. That would suck. But then I thought to myself if it didn't fit I would just sell it on the black market and make some cash.

The ordering process started on May 27 for the new chair. Jeanne at Altru told me that the new chair would probably come in three or four months. She was about right on because the chair came in sometime in September and I made an appointment to get fitted for the chair September 16.

I worked with Altru Performance Center in Grand Forks because they're the best at what they do. I do not deal with Scamford's Healthcare Accessories in Fargo anymore unless I absolutely have to. They suck. Altru's Yorhom Medical Essentials in Grand Forks are much better to work with.  

The people at Altru Performance Center in Grand Forks are awesome to work with. Jane the Occupational Therapist Extraordinaire, Jeanne the Assistive Technology Practitioner Genius and Luke the Wheelchair Technician Magician are top-notch. I went back up there September 16 to get my chair adjusted. Jane made sure everything fit right and was going to work for me. She even made some adaptations so I could turn the chair on and off. She also got me in and out of the chair a couple times while they were making adjustments to the new wheelchair. Luke put the new bolt on the bottom of my wheelchair that slides into the wheelchair locking device in my pickup. He made all of the adjustments and swapped the stuff and things I needed from the old chair onto the new chair. Luke also unrolled my Roll-o-Ramp and drove my old chair into the back of the pickup. Plus he tied everything down and made sure everything was secure before we left Grand Forks and headed home.

The ride home sucked. I didn’t like the new chair right away. It didn't feel right. I was in pain. My body did not like it. Especially after the two hour ride home from Grand Forks. I went to bed right when I got home and didn't get up the next day. I wanted to go back to my old chair. I was being Mr. Negative. I don't like being negative. It sucks. But like Sarah said, "It is going to take time." She was right, my body was used to the old chair. After almost 20 years it is hard to get used to something that quick.

OT Jane even checked in with me a couple days later to see how I was feeling with the new chair. This is the message she sent me, "This is Jane (the OT) – I wanted to check-in and see how you are doing since we made those changes a couple days ago?  How is your back?  Pain?" I really appreciated that. I told her that I was not feeling very comfortable in the chair and she told me to keep track of all of the things that were bothering me.

So I made a list of things I needed changed for the next time I went to Altru. I needed them to cut out some of my shell that forms the backrest. I needed them to move the wheelchair canes forward because it felt like I was slouching. Also needed them to figure out the display screen that has the clock and other stuff on it. I also needed to figure out why I was getting a red spot on my right thigh since switching to the new chair. The sound from the electronics was also too loud and I needed that to be lowered. After two hours or so at my appointment on September 29 they made everything right. It now feels comfortable and just like how I felt before but now in a new chair. The only thing that is really different about the new chair is the electronics and the new fancy shiny rims. They are a little too fancy for me. But I think I will be able to rub off the shininess in short time.

Don B and I racing. He did well for an able-bodied fellow.

With the new chair been pretty much similar to the old chair it was easy to adapt my fishing and hunting mounts. I was worried about nothing. The crossbow mount was as easy as to taking it off the old chair and bolting it on the new one. The rifle mount was another story. It would attach to the new chair but we needed to do a lot more modifications. Cutting, fitting and modifying. The new chair has a lot more electronics and we needed to make everything fit around them. But after some meeting of the minds with my dad, Don B and T-rav, everything came together perfectly. I have been hunting with the crossbow and shooting rifle with the new chair and everything works slick. Giggity…

I can't thank the people I worked with at Altru Performance Center enough. They made everything easy and they made the transition to the new chair work as smoothly as it could. They made the four-hour round-trip well worth it, three times. Service like that is hard to find and when you find it you better use it because it doesn't come around that often. Thank you Jane, Jeanne and Luke.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Just me giving rides on the new chair doing stuff and things I do.

A Hell of a Twisted Hunt.

Sometime this summer a friend of mine, Dave sent me a text and was wondering if I would want to do a hunt with him as him as my guide. Dave was predicting that the annual Twist of Fate hunt would be canceled due to the Rona virus. I told him I would definitely be interested as long as I wasn't taking the hunt away from someone who doesn't get the opportunity as much as I do. I can pretty much go out and hunt any day I want. That doesn't suck. He told me it would be just me and another disabled hunter that would take part. He was also going to invite a couple other guides to help out. With that, I accepted his offer.

You see we have been talking about hunting together ever since we met. I think that was back in 98 when he guided another hunter while we were at the first UFFDA hunt in North Dakota. We kind of hit it off right away. Ever since then, whenever we would run into each other we would say, "One of these days we are going to do a hunt together." Well this year everything seemed to line up and it happened.

I really had no idea what his grand plan was but if you know Dave, his mind is always working on something. It is usually something neat. But I digress. I texted him the day before the hunt just to ask him what he all had planned. He told me everything is going great and things got a little bigger than he first planned. He said things just snowballed and everything fell into place.

As I said, on the drawing board Dave was just going to have myself and another hunter take part in the hunt. But then one of his fellow guides and friends heard what he was doing, they wanted to join up with him. In the end there were six guides and four hunters. Dave said, "It's gonna be  a twisted hunt full of twisted people!" That's good stuff.

A little bit of the famous bacon from Maple Valley Meats from Enderlin.

They lined up a place for us to base out of, the Kindred Wildlife Club clubhouse. This place does not suck. The clubhouse is equipped with a full kitchen, restrooms and plenty of room to sit and eat or just hang out. Their range is something to be proud of. They also lined up wall tents in case someone needed a place to stay, which one hunter took advantage of. A couple hunters brought campers and I went home every night. Landowners were also contacted and prime hunting spots were available and prepped for wheelchair access in case it was needed. Donations also started rolling in. A local landowner donated money to pay for the bow tags. Ribeyes and burger were donated by a local farmer and local rancher. Bacon was donated by Maple Valley Meats. There were also other donations of food that was just awesome. Everything was provided for three meals a day. People are awesome.

I thought we were just going to get together and do a couple nights of hunting together. I had no clue how this thing had snowballed.

The hunt took place during the same weekend as the annual Twist of Fate hunt takes place. It is always the last full weekend in September. This year's dates were September 24-26. But there would be no morning hunts during this elongated weekend. Dave texted the day before, "We are gonna feed ya and have a full line of refreshments! How does campfires and whitetail bucks sound?"

About a week before the hunt I texted Dave on how far a shot should I practice for. He told me inside of 20. So I went and practiced one afternoon. After a couple shots my Carbon Express Intercept crossbow was dialed in with broadheads. I told him I was good to go. And he replied back, "We're gonna whackem and stackem!"

For a couple weeks before the hunt we were sharing trail cam pictures of buckaroos. He had a couple doozies picked out for me on the land I was going to be on. I like doozies. But the best part about this was I was going to be hunting on stuff I had never been on before. I have written about this before but I just love hunting new territories. I don't care where it is or how many animals there are. It's like getting a new perspective on life every new parcel you explore.

I also talked to Dave the day before the hunt just ask him about what time I should be down there and what time we were going to get in to the blinds. He told me we would leave camp around 4 PM to try and get set up at least by 4:30 PM. But I should get there earlier if I could. But there was no pressure because this is going to be my hunt. He told me that many times. "No pressure. We are here to have a good time," he would say.

I explained to him that I am only supposed to be in the chair about seven hours at a time. Again he explained that this is your hunt. So I decided I would roll into camp around three the day the hunt started. When I got down to the clubhouse which I had never been to before, there were some familiar faces. I had known the guides for many years. They were Bruce, TJ, Jeremy, Dylan, Matt and Dave. I also recognized the hunters. I had never hunted with them but had seen them at the Twist of Fate banquets where I tend to blow some money and overindulge in libations. The hunters turned out to be Pat, Matt, Tom and I.

After little bit of BS'ing. We actually started talking about hunting. I asked Dave where we were going and he said he had a perfect place picked out for the wind that was blowing that night. He said he had nine different places ready to hunt for different wind directions. Preparedness doesn't suck. Dave told me we were headed to Spike's land. I had actually hunted on his land but not in the same spot. It is a bow hunter's nirvana. A lot of big deers have been taken on this property. I was happy in all of my facial region and other regions.

Spike's land wasn't too far away from the camp so we took off around 4 PM. When we got to the spot, things were little different than the last time I was there. I believe I hunted there last in maybe 2002. We first stopped by the new house because Spike wanted me to use his Ozonics while I was hunting on his land. That was very gracious and I was excited to use one. I have heard about them but had never had the opportunity to hunt with one. To the novice, they are supposed to take away human scent.

I will just say this land is southwest of Kindred. It is right along the Sheyenne River and there is quite the aroma from the local plant life. It is quite intoxicating actually. When we pulled up to the hunting spot there were three blinds. There were two pop-up blinds facing each other about 30 yards apart. They were placed this way for hunting in different winds. There was also another permanent blind a little farther away.

That first night I was in the pop-up blind facing to the east. Before getting in the blind I explained to my guides TJ, Dylan and Dave how to use the detachable hand crank on my crossbow to cock the bow. They caught on quick and within no time I was backing into the blind. Then the Ozonics and the Thermacell were turned on. Next an arrow was placed on the rail of my crossbow and the safety was clicked off. And with that they said good luck and I was left by myself. In my happy place. In the hunting blind by all by myself. I looked down at my phone and it was 4:30 PM. Perfect.

I believe there was a southeast wind that night and it was warm. It was actually toasty inside the blind. If I could sweat, I probably would have been sweating that evening. I believe the temperature hit 80° that day.

It didn't take long for the woods to settle down. In this time I got my bearings. I looked around and made some mental notes of how far I could shoot to the left and right without hitting anything on the windows. I also made some mental notes of how far the yardage was in front of me.

The blinds were in kind of an oxbow on the Sheyenne. There were trees along the river but I was in a big open area in the middle of the winding river. The field that I was in was tall grass with mowed paths going in several directions. The grass was probably 6 feet tall in most parts. So deer could sneak around pretty easily without getting seen.

As I was facing east around 5:15 PM the first deer of the night came from my right which is to the south. It was a yearling doe. I was surprised there was deer out that early seeing how warm it was. It was sunny and 75° at this time. Not ideal for deer movement. But this land is so prime evidently the deer don't care about the temperature. She milled around for a while and took off the same way she came in. At 5:45 PM, rambunctious twins came bouncing in, followed by their mother who had her mouth open and tongue stretched out. She was panting hard. She was old and it was easy to tell by her Roman nose. They sampled on some sugar beets for a while until something to the north spooked her and they took off to where they came from. Those old ones are tough to trick. But she wasn't looking at me, something in the trees was bothering her. She actually blew a couple times as she and her young ones ran away.

At this time I was glad I had remembered to bring my Thermacell because I could tell the bugs were bothering the deer. Their ears were twitching and their tails were too. Their legs were constantly moving or shaking to try and get the bugs off. But there was nary a bug inside the pop-up blind. Thank goodness.

At 6:30 PM a yearling doe came in from the south just like the others. She came directly in and munched on some sugar beets. She didn't stay long. I learned right away that most of the deer, actually I believe all of them came running in. I needed to pay attention constantly because in a matter of seconds they were right in front of you.

As I was sitting in the blind I noticed something making noise every time there would be a gust of wind. I was looking around the inside of the blind to figure out what it was so we could get rid of it in case I sat here again or in case someone else was going to sit here. Finally I noticed something spinning and it looked like the ass end of a price tag. The little square and that is usually on the inside of clothing. Anyway I could see that thing spinning every time there was a gust. This didn't get me busted but it was kind of annoying. I think maybe the old doe got spooked by it though. But I wanted her gone anyway. Old does suck.

 At 6:40 PM I heard some footprints behind me. All of a sudden a doe came from the direction I was not anticipating. She came directly downwind from me. Maybe those Ozonics do work. Usually animals do not come from downwind. They usually bust you or you do not even see them. As this doe was standing in front of me I thought to myself If Mr. Big does come, I am going to need to wait for the perfect shot because it is too warm to screw up the shot. You would not want to leave a deer laying all night and try to find it in the morning with temperatures in the 70s. The meat would be spoiled and I'm sure the coyotes would be full. So I took this time to aiming on the deer that would come in. Getting ready for a possible killing shot. That's using the old kidney…

Around 7 PM I had two deer come in. There was one from the north and one from the south. They were both does. They both met in the middle and sampled the local table fare until there was some noise from the south. At 7:20 PM another old doe came trotting in. She stayed until about 7:45 PM. Legal shooting hours were done at 7:50 PM that night. Nothing else came in after she left. There was a total of nine deer and they were all within 10 yards. That does not suck.

So I texted the boys and they came and got me. They asked if I had seen anything and I explained that there were nine does/fawns that came in. They were surprised no bucks had come in but it was only hunt number one. I then asked if anyone else got lucky and Dave told me there is a 4 x 4 that was hit and it should be in camp when we get there. On our way out the landowner, Spike was standing outside. I told him what I had seen that night and he was also surprised that no bucks came in. He was watching on his SpyPoint trail cam that sends pictures in real-time to his phone. I thanked him for the opportunity to hunt on his land and with a smile he said, "I was more than welcome." So with that we headed back to the clubhouse.

When we got back to camp the 4 x 4 was just getting strung up in a tree in front of the clubhouse. It was a nice deer. I decided to go by the clubhouse and tilt back for a while. I am supposed to tilt back for ten minutes every hour but it's kind of hard to do when you are hunting. Sometimes I cheat, sue me. I am the only one that is going to have to pay for it in the end. But some things are worth doing. You can't quit living your life just because you're in a chair. That's my theory anyway. But I digress.

While I was tilting I had mom make me a cocktail. I was thirsty. I was also tired. It didn't take long for the guys to butcher the deer and they were ready to put some pizza on the Traeger. But by that time I was beat. I had one more cocktail made for the ride home and we were out of there. It takes about a half-hour to get back home and by the time I was in bed it was around 11 PM. So that was over eight hours in the chair that day and I was beat. I slept hard.

When I woke up it was Friday. I am always thankful when I wake up. Good times. I decided that day I would wait a little longer to get to camp so I could partake in the evening festivities more. I decided to get in the chair around 3 PM and take off for the camp. This would give me about a half-hour there before we would have to take off for the evening hunt. When mom and I got there the guys already had a plan for the three other hunters who still had tags. The plan for me was to head east, almost to Minnesota. I would be sitting along the Red River. I was excited because this is another new territory for me.

When we got to the spot I was going to be hunting you could just tell this was deer territory. It was right along the banks of the Red River. There were plenty of trees probably about 100 yards of trees that went west from the bank. Where I was hunting was an old abandoned farmstead. It looked like you could set up anywhere and you would have a good opportunity at filling your tag. The pictures of deer that I had seen from this particular place were awesome. We went by the farmstead and made our way in my pickup on a narrow trail through the trees. All of a sudden there was an opening amongst all of the tall old trees. Then I noticed a pop-up blind tucked in some bushes. The back of the blind was towards the river and I was facing directly west. The bedding area was to my right, the north. To my west was a wall of trees. To the south was where we came, which was to my left as I backed into the blind. This night, I barely had to explain how to cock my bow. In no time they were wishing me luck and there they were, gone. I was back by myself, in my element. My happy place.

As soon as they were gone I looked down at my phone and it said 4:35 PM. It was perfect time for a perfect set up. We had a north wind and the deer would come from the north. To the north was an old riverbed which the deer were now using for their bedding area. Everything about this felt perfect. There were birds and squirrels moving everywhere. They kept me entertained. The opening in front of me was probably 30 yards around. There was some well-placed nourishment right in the middle. As I always do I figured out where I could shoot and how far I could shoot right and left.

The anticipation was high and before I knew it, it was 6 PM and I could hear a deer blowing to the north. It sounded a long ways off. There is no way that this deer could have busted me. It was directly upwind from where I was. I believe it blew four or five times and each time it did I could tell it was getting farther away. I have no idea what spooked it.

At 6:35 PM I could make out a silhouette in the bedding area. Every once in a while I swear I could see eyes of the deer looking around. I thought for sure this was going to be a buck and he was going to walk out right in front of me. But after about five minutes of seeing the silhouette, it was gone.

All of a sudden something caught my eye and I was looking directly east as a Robin was making a kamikaze run right for the window of the blind. Right at the last second he pulled up on the rudder and landed on one of the support beams of the blind. I thought for sure he was coming directly inside. That would have been entertaining. Just as I was collecting my thoughts there was a loud squawking noise behind me. It kind of spooked me right away. You never know what is in those woods. It made a squawking noise again and again. I couldn't think of what would make that type of noise and then I remembered that the river was right behind me. Instead of Bigfoot bellering, I bet it was probably a Blue Heron. That probably makes more sense.

As I was further to the east this night and I was surrounded by trees it got dark earlier than it did the day before. I texted Dave at 7:49 PM that I was ready. He must've texted me right at the same time because I got a message that said, "Are you ready to come out?" About five minutes later I got another text that said, "Well…" I giggled to myself because I knew what happened. I replied I was ready and within about five minutes I could see headlights making their way towards me. It was dark. Dark as the ace of spades. When Dave got out of the vehicle he checked the bait pile first and noticed that there were some tracks in it. He asked, "Did you see anything?" I said, "Nothing." He then explained that he saw some tracks in the bait and I said, "There could have been something in the last 10 minutes but it was too dark to see." We would have to check the camera to figure that out. Dave was able to check the camera a couple days later and it was a small fawn that came in when it was dark. Everyone was surprised that nothing came in. I was too. But it didn't matter. It was a grand night.

When we got back to the camp we learned that nobody else had gotten anything either. So the guides started up the oil in the fryers to have a fish fry. While the fish were frying I was tilting back and listening to the other guys tell their stories of the night's hunt. It doesn't get any better than that. A couple landowners also showed up. The land I was on that night was their land. I have known Ryan and Heather for quite a few years but never knew they owned this parcel of land. I thanked them for the opportunity as we filled our faces with fried potatoes and fried fish. That night we stayed a little longer and made it home around midnight. It was another eight hours in the chair. But well worth it.

I woke up again, this time it was Saturday. Winning. Last day of the hunt. Like the day before I decided to get in the chair at 3 PM and make my way over to the camp. The only difference was that today it was raining. It was raining pretty much constantly but every once in a while it was pretty hard. It was decided that I would go to the same place I was on Thursday night because we all agreed it was just a matter of time before the bucks would come in. So we headed over to Spike's land and he met us in front of his house before we went by and headed to the blind. He told us we should probably sit in the east blind that is facing west. With the rain the wind was unpredictable. He also said he was going to grab a bucket of corn to add to the sugar beets. We grabbed the bucket and Spike told me good luck. I said thanks and we were on our way.

We pulled the pickup as close as we could to the blind and we all got out. The rain was coming down good. TJ and Dylan untied the blind from the tiedowns and lifted up one side so I could back in. Once I was inside they got my crossbow cocked, locked and ready to rock. TJ hooked up the Ozonics while Dave was outside dumping corn. It was a well-oiled machine. In no time they were driving off in my pickup and I was all alone, again. I love it.

As they pulled away I looked at my phone and it said 4:20 PM. That's when I remembered that Dave told me to rub a voodoo doll for good luck before the hunt. Stuff and things were rubbed. So the set up was just the opposite as the first night's hunt. I was facing west, I was looking right at the pop-up blind I was sitting in on Thursday night. To my left, the south was where most of the deer came from that first night. Unlike the first night, tonight I could see probably 300 yards in front of me towards the farmyard. Behind me was a little opening, some trees and then the Sheyenne River.

For the next hour and a half there was no movement. The only sound I could hear was the rain on the roof of the pop-up blind. Every once in a while there was a gust of wind that would hit me in the face. That is a good thing when you're hunting. Around 5:50 PM two does came in from my left side. They came directly to the bait and had a little supper. They were in front of me for probably twenty minutes or so. Right after they left around 6:20 PM the rain finally quit. A little after that the sun came out and it was one of those nights when you knew something was going to happen. It was perfect. As soon as the sun came out a big old doe came out with her twins. They were little buckaroos. I could see their hair was parting where eventually antlers would be grown. Right at this time the wind also died down to nothing. Dead calm.

Also during this time when the sun came out and the rain quit there was about 15 gunshots. I figured maybe it was duck hunters. But it was hard to tell if it was from a shotgun or rifle. It was echoing so much. I later learned that it could have been a neighbor practicing his long-distance shooting. It didn't matter much though because the deer were not bothered by it at all. They didn't even flinch.

At 7 PM a yearling doe came in all by herself. She was there for a while until we both heard some blowing to the north. The wind was in my face at this time so again I had no idea what that deer was bothered by to the north. The blowing made the yearling in front of me turn tail and run back to the south. About ten minutes after that another solo skinhead made her way to the bait. She fed and fed and fed. It was pure gluttony. But entertaining to watch. Her stomach was finally full and she waddled off to the south. At 7:45 PM a doe with twins came in directly from the west. I think they would have stayed there all night but I got a text that 7:49 PM from Dave saying, "You ready to come out?" I replied, "Sure. Doe with twins in front of me." In no time I could see the headlights from my pickup bouncing over the pocket gopher mounds headed my way. The doe and twins finally put their heads up and ran back into the trees.

When the guys got out of the pickup they asked what I saw and I replied, "13 does." That is crazy to have that many deer in front of you within 10 yards and they have no clue you're there. It is also crazy that I did not see one buck. But that doesn't matter. I had over 12 hours in the blind in three days and it was pure awesomeness seeing 22 deer up close. It's not about killing. It's about nature, friends, camaraderie, togetherness, good times and no suckage.

One of the guys reached in the blind and grabbed the arrow from the crossbow rail, lifted the blind and I drove out. Next like the nights before they put in my decocking arrow and I shot it into the ground. Then TJ unattached the crossbow and its mount from my wheelchair. TJ then loaded the crossbow in the backseat of my pickup and him and Dylan hopped on the tailgate while Dave jumped in the driver seat as I was getting the batwing door shut on my side. We were a well-oiled machine indeed. On our way out of the field and into the yard, landowner Spike was waiting for us. He asked me what I saw and I told him 13 skinheads and he laughed. He was amazed that there were no bucks running around with that many females. But I guess they all turned nocturnal. It's hard to figure a buck. Bucks only need a couple things and this time of year they can do the things they need by themselves. Sounds like a good Clintism…

The guys then jumped in their Yukon and mom jumped in my pickup like we did the two nights before. In no time we were back at the camp and we learned that one of the other hunters had shot a doe. They were not sure of the shot so they decided to let it lay for a while. It was decided that we would have supper and then they would go track it.

Next the Traeger was fired up and the perfect ribeyes were waiting their fate. It was going to be a feast with potato salad, baked beans and sweetcorn as the sides. Of course I cleaned my plate like a good boy in record time. The gentlemen who donated the ribeyes was there also this night, so I thanked him for the generous, delicious gift. They did not suck. The supper was perfect, the location was awesome and the company was great.

We didn't stay long after supper because the guides wanted to go find that doe before the coyotes got to her. I thanked all of them for everything they did for this awesome three-day hunt. It could not have been more perfect.

By the way, they did find that doe so the hunters went two out of four, for filling their tags over the weekend. 50% is pretty dang good for any hunter on a three-day hunt, disabled or not. Also, I was picky and was waiting for Mr. Big to fill my freezer.

I can't thank everyone who made this twisted hunt possible enough. You all don't suck.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

I wish could…

I wish I could do it over again.

I wish I could squeeze your hand.

I wish I could help you with that.

I wish I could fix fence.

I wish I could go when I want.

I wish I could mow the lawn.

I wish I could do my part.

I wish I could do it by myself.

I wish I could go where I want.

I wish I could do the dishes.

I wish I could open the door for you.

I wish I could weed the garden.

I wish I could fix that for you.

I wish I could be a better person.

I wish I could know what I have.

I wish I could forget things.

I wish I could have served.

I wish I could be there.

I wish I could have no regrets.

I wish I could fulfill my promises.

I wish I could do anything for you.

I wish I could not do dumb stuff.

I wish I could work cattle.

I wish I could push in your chair.

I wish I could go anywhere, anytime.

I wish I could not have boundaries.

I wish I could squeeze you tight.

I wish I could turn back time.

I wish I could listen more.

I wish I could not think this way.

I wish could do so much more.

It is not a pity party it's just what I wish I could do to make other people's lives easier. But as the old saying goes, "You can wish in one hand, shit in the other. See which one gets filled first."

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Evolution of a Bow Hunter: Part 4.

The year of disappointment would be the title of 2009.  But I guess there was some good that came out of it when I look back.  It started in the spring when I was looking for new arrows for my crossbow.  Evidently Barnett and other manufacturers decided not to make 16 inch arrows anymore. My Barnett crossbow only shoots 16 inch.  I had about six left from last year but after a summer of shooting 3-D targets down at the tree farm you eventually lose some.  Especially when shooting at the antelope that was at 55 yards. 

 

Shooting 3-D targets at the tree farm.

After searching the internets for people who make custom crossbow bolts/arrows, I finally found a guy in West Virginia who makes stuff for my things.  His web site looked pretty legit and was reasonably priced.  The only problem was that he is used to making 20 inch instead of 16 inch.  It is more complicated than just cutting 4 inches off.  I found out you need to check the balance of the arrow.  It is literally rocket science, not kidding.  So he had me send him an arrow that I liked and he would match it.  I believe it only took a couple of weeks and they were in the mail.  They were the best arrows I've ever shot.

               

The arrows came the Thursday before bow season started.  Not much time to practice and get used to them, but I managed to shoot them so I was comfortable out to 40 yards.

The first Saturday of the season that year my friend Lucas shot a 4x4 in velvet down in the Kathryn Valley. Lucas had been seeing a lot of big deer down there on his trail camera.  And I mean a lot, there was a couple of 5 x 5's and numerous 4x4's.  So we decided I should try it out.  After I obtained permission to hunt down there we decided to check it out and see how bad it would be for me to get down there.  It is right along the Spring Creek that comes from Clausen Springs and runs into the Sheyenne River.  Of course the spot we wanted to hunt was not close to the road.  It was probably 200 yards downhill through two rock ravines and a bean field.  Getting down there wasn't bad, it was the getting back up the hill.  Sometimes gravity sucks. The hunt was pretty uneventful.  We only had a couple of basket bucks and some does come by.  But this is when the adventure started.  

It was darker than the ace of spades and of course we did not bring our flashlights.  They were in the shaggin wagon 200 yards away.  About halfway through the bean field my chair started to give out.  I would go for about 10 feet then it was just die.  So he got behind me and pushed.  It doesn't really work very well trying to push something uphill especially when myself and the chair weigh around 400 pounds.  After about a half-hour of this, we decided to drive the van down to us.  The only problem is tractors are about the only things that go down and up this sidehill.  Just like me, the shaggin wagon came down easy but going up was another story.  We eventually did make it as I am here to tell the story, after giving her the onion a couple times going across the rock ravines.  I'm sure the bottom of the van was nice and shiny after that little episode. Geesh. I never hunted there again. In fact, Don B and I baited down there another time and my wheelchair overheated again going up the hill and he had to push. That was the last straw.

A couple years before this one, around my main hunting spot the deer numbers had been down a bit.  But this year they seemed to be on the rebound.  My new trail cam was getting quite a few pictures every day.  Surprisingly also some big ones, at least they were big for me.  Most of the big ones were a half-mile away in another shelterbelt.  A friend of mine had a trail cam in there and he was getting a lot of good bucks coming in.  Eventually he shot a 4 x 5 out of Herman's belt.

I probably sat around 20 times north of the house and saw deer every time.  But nothing to get too excited about early in the season.  For some reason around here they are nocturnal most of the time.  The belt I hunt in is what you call a travel corridor.  This should be good for bowhunting but not so good when they come around in the dark.  Especially the bucks, most of them on the trail camera were coming by around midnight.  I've decided that the only good time to hunt around here is during the rut when the bucks are looking for love in all the wrong places.  They tend to let down their guard when their twigs and berries get the best of them.

Now comes the first disappointing part of my hunting season.  Cody wanted me to hunt on a spot he has been hunting all fall because there were big bucks.  And when he says there are big bucks, you can guarantee that they are big.  He had been getting pictures of three big 4x4's and one monster 5 x 5.  All four of these deer would be a trophy for anyone bowhunting. 

I finally decided to go over there and try it out a couple of days before rifle season.  Looking back on it now I should've been there all season long.  The only problem is getting in and out of the spot, which is about 10 miles away from the house.  I believe I was there on the Tuesday night for the first time, just three days before rifle season.  Cody helped set me up that first night in a little tree grove above the Maple River and right beside a soybean field and corn field. Just like clockwork the bucks started coming out about a half hour before sunset.  For some reason the bucks were still in their bachelor group. Usually this close to rut they are on their own by now. The three 4x4's came out in front me around 100 yards and started making their way towards me.  When they were in shooting range I noticed Mr. Big bringing up the rear.  He was big, probably the biggest I have ever seen while hunting.  The only problem was that now I had eight eyes looking around and it was only a matter of time before one of them got spooked.  After about 15 minutes one of the 4x4's noticed that I shouldn't be there and started to stomp and snort, which is never good.  Then in a blink of an eye all I could see was white flags running away.  But at least I knew they were there and decided to go back the next day.

The next day I got there a little earlier just to make sure I didn't spook anything out on the way in.  This night there were some does that came by early and got chased away by some turks.  Then I saw the turkeys go up to roost, which is one of the loudest things you can hear in the woods.  They are not the most graceful flyers.  After all of the commotion I saw the biggest of the 4x4's coming right towards me.  He was only about 20 yards away and didn't notice me so I decided to wait to see if Mr. Big would show.  He never did though and it was starting to get dark.  After a little conversation I had in my head about whether I should shoot him or not I decided I would take the shot.  I based it on rifle season starting in a couple of days and the spot gets hit pretty hard.  The only problem was he was quartering towards me and that is not the shot you want to take but I did anyway.  My arrow went into his front right shoulder and angled back to his left rib cage.  When he turned away and ran I could see my fletching sticking out and it looked like there was about 8 inches of the arrow in him.  I had a gut feeling right away that this wasn't going to turn out good.

After about an hour Cody and his dad Keith came out to help look for the deer with my dad.  They searched for about two hours that night.  There would be a good blood trail for a while and that it would disappear.  Then they would find it again and it would disappear again.  We decided to back out and come back in the morning.  The next morning Keith, Trauty and Tito went back to pick up the blood trail in the daylight.  They tracked for a couple of hours and noticed that he crossed the river.  They drove around to the other side and found the arrow, which had blood about halfway up. They noticed a couple of the blood puddles, hunks of tissue that looked like parts of lung.  There was also bubbles in the blood which is always a good sign, but evidently not this time.  The last speck of blood they found was in the middle of a bean field about a half-mile away from where I shot him.  But we did not give up.  That afternoon Tito went back out with a dog and tried to pick up the scent again, but even this did not work.  There is no worse feeling for a bow hunter then not being able to find your deer that you have shot.  I was sick about it for about, well hell I'm still sick about it.  I even punished myself, I did not go bow hunting for the rest of the season. The buck was found the next spring by Cody and some friends coincidentally just north of The Springs. Evidently he doubled back and died within 100 yards of where I was sitting.

Like I said before this was the year of disappointment and here comes the doozy of them all.  All fall I've been working on a rifle mount that adapts to my chair.  Finally in September we got it dialed in pretty good.  With help from Don B. who made the trigger after collaboration of minds (story of trigger). There was also a lot of trigger time with the old Ruger .22 with Tito, just to help get used to shooting a rifle.  Earlier that summer I bought a Remington Model 7400 .243 Semi-Automatic rifle for deer/coyote/antelope.  It took quite a while to get the hang of shooting a rifle because I hadn't done it for a while.  We also had trouble with the rifle not grouping.  After quite a bit of trial and error we found out it was the rings on the scope.  But we got it dialed in a week into rifle season.  For some reason I was busy the second weekend of rifle season so I only had three days to hunt.  And wouldn't you know it, I only needed one day to screw something up.

 

Shooting the 243 with the new adaptive trigger.

I knew there were bucks around the farm so I decided to hunt right here instead of going anywhere else.  I had my mom set me up the first night.  For where I set up the longest shot should be around 150 yards.  It is in between two shelter belts with a field in between, that year it was soybeans.  I was only sitting for about half an hour when I first saw the does starting to come out of the belt and starting to feed.  I believe there were around 11 of them.  All of a sudden I noticed some commotion in the belt and it had to be a buck.  It was real quiet that night and there was no wind.  Pretty soon I could hear him grunting and rubbing down some trees.  Then he appeared out of the belt with his head held high.  He was a big 5 x 5 with bright white antlers.  I can still see him when I close my eyes.  Anyway I got lined up on him and pulled the trigger and nothing happened.  I was perplexed.  Just the day before I shot around 10 times and the trigger worked every time. 

The buck was chasing some does and getting closer around 120 yards.  This was when he gave me another shot, so I pulled back on the trigger again and nothing happened.  At this time I was starting to get pissed.  I started looking over the rifle and trigger and it seemed like everything was good, but evidently not.  He went back into the belt and I was cussing myself wondering what the heck was going on.  Then he came out and gave me another shot around 100 yards.  I took my time and pulled back on the trigger and nothing happened again.  Don't they say bad things come in threes?  By this time it was getting dark so I decided to go back to the house.  I called up Don B. and he came out to check out the rifle.  He gave it a good cleaning and the only thing we could figure was that the action did not shut all the way for some reason.  I went out the next two days with Ham hoping the buck would come back but he never did.  I only saw one deer the next two days and that was on Sunday about 30 seconds before legal shooting hours were over and of course it was a doe.

I need to backtrack a little.  In the fall of 2009 I went hunting out west for the first time, chasing speed goats a.k.a. antelope a.k.a. pronghorn.  Friends of mine had been putting in for rifle tags in a unit down by New England for the last five or so years.  They had been asking me for a while if I wanted to go out with them, but I wanted to wait until I knew I had my rifle set up working.  It didn't matter though because I did not draw a tag but at least it gave me motivation to get the rifle mount working.  My friends usually make it a bow hunt that turns into a rifle hunt. They usually bow hunt the last two or three days of the bow season and then switch to rifle for that season.

I believe my mom and I got out there the Tuesday before rifle season.  A couple guys got there earlier and did some scouting in the area.  That night we all met up in New England and talked strategy.  During the scouting they found a couple herds that numbered around 30 animals.  When we figured out where they were located, we invited over a couple of the local landowners for supper in the trailer house that my friends had been renting.  The two guys that help us get on land, look forward to the group coming out there every year just for the meals and good times.  I believe we had a paddlefish fry the first night, reuben sandwiches the second night, lasagna the third night and I do not recall the other nights.  Those guys get a kick out of my friends, they can't believe that they actually want to try to shoot an antelope with a bow.  Anyway, during the meal we found out that we could get on the land where the antelope were.  We decided that I would set up in a portable blind in an alfalfa field that still had round bales in the field.

The next afternoon I drove down from Dickinson where I was staying and met the guys at the field.  I believe I was set up by 3 p.m. and decided that I would sit by myself with a decoy placed at about 30 yards away.  It was a pretty nice day to start out.  It was around 50° with a little wind out of the northwest.  After sitting for about a half hour I could see one herd to the southwest.  They were in between me and a big butte in the distance.  They were around 300 yards away.  I could tell they could see the decoy but they had no interest at all.  There was another group to the east, this was a group of just three antelope. Probably all bucks. They were across the road from where I was sitting and seemed to meander around aimlessly.  They never came in either. 

Hunting pronghorn is a total different ballgame compared to what I was used to hunting, whitetail. Especially when there is a lot of moisture around and they don't need to congregate at waterholes. They can go anywhere when it is wet, like it was that year.

The coolest thing that I saw was when the pheasants started flying in to the alfalfa.  There were probably 20 bales in the field and every bale had at least two pheasants on it. I'd never seen that many pheasants in one area in my life.  I could have shot a couple roosters that walked right in front of me.  I tried to put a count on them but I had to give up after losing count four or five times. I look a lot smarter than I really am.

The pop-up blind I was in.

Around 6:30 the weather started to change from sunny to cloudy with a cold rain.  The light breeze turned into a gale force wind and now was coming out of the southwest, directly into my face.  Every once in a while there would be a big gust of wind that would spit dirt in my facial region.  During one of these gusts one side of the pop-up blind caved in.  That was really handy. Good times. So I backed my chair into that corner to help support the wall so the whole thing did not collapse on me.  By then I knew my hunt for the night was pretty much over. The antelope had vanished. I don't remember how long I had to wait for the other guys to come and pick me up, but it was long enough.

I later learned that when the rain started the guys decided to go in for some grub in a warm bar in Bowman I believe. You see, they figured I wouldn't want to quit just because of a little weather. I ain't no quitter. They were right. But warm food and a cocktail sounded good when I got loaded into the shaggin wagon.

 

Dustin, myself, Lucas and Kevin.

I believe that night was the first night of snow in the state.  Just some flurries but just some is too much. After the meal and a couple games of poker I went back to Dickinson, looked at the forecast for the next couple days and it was not good.  I woke up the next morning and the wind was out of the west at 20 mph, gusting over 40.  The big American flag out my window looked like it had been starched.  I decided I wasn't going to hunt that day.  Hopefully the next day would be better.  The other guys didn't do much hunting either that day.  They ended up in Bowman.  And there's only about one thing you can do in Bowman.  The next day was even worse than the day before.  I didn't go out hunting again on the trip.  I had to leave on Thursday and didn't really want to bow hunt during rifle season.  Nobody got one with their bow that week.  But they were five for five in filling their rifle tags. 

All in all it was a great trip and I hope to get back there again with a rifle tag. I for sure got the itch to hunt the wide open spaces of western North Dakota during that hunt. Pronghorn are just neat critters and their meat is some of the best table fare there is. It doesn't suck. Please do yourself a favor, take care of the meat immediately and cook it medium rare.

That brings me to the 2010 spring turkey season.  Don B. and I both drew tags and decided that we would try and hunt together.  I don't believe he had ever been turkey hunting with a bow before.  I had one tag a couple years before but never filled it.  Before the season started a friend of ours Barry, who did some camera work for a local hunting show called, "Wildlife Pursuit," asked me if they could try and film my hunt.  I was all for it.  We just needed to figure out the time and place and we would give it a whirl.  Don B. and I drove around out in the sand hills along the Sheyenne River on a couple scouting trips and spotted quite a few gobblers.  We decided on a spot that we knew we could get permission and just needed to line it up with Barry the camera dude.

It was in the middle of the week when everyone's schedules lined up.  We burned out of Enderlin around 3 p.m. to meet Barry.  On our way down to the hunting spot Barry called us and said get down here in a hurry they are already gobbling.  So we gave it the onion.  When we got down there the turks were "bugling" (inside joke) in every direction.  Barry had all of his camera equipment set up when we got there.  When I was getting out of the van he came running over and said put this on.  It was a Wildlife Pursuit hat.  He filmed me getting my crossbow attached to my chair and getting into the blind.  Now we needed to figure out how to fit three guys and two cameras in one blind. This was happening while turkeys were bugling all over.  After we figured everything out we started to call.  Actually Don B. was our designated caller. He knows how to lure in the ladies. It is more like seducing.

After about four minutes of calling we heard a couple of gobblers bugling that were starting to head our way.  The two toms were headed right towards our decoys which consisted of a couple of hens and one jake that was riding a hen.  They were coming in directly to our left and my only shot was straight in front of us.  They got so close that we could hear them walking in the dry grass beside us.  We could even hear them puff themselves up.  The only way we could see them was through the viewfinder on the camera.  They were only a couple feet away.  They hadn't gobbled for a while but we could still hear them walking around but they would not go in front of the blind to the decoys.  I just told myself that they are going to gobble pretty soon and to not jump or get startled.  Kind of like when a rooster gets up at your feet while walking through tall CRP.  I didn't want to look like a fool in front of the camera because one of the video cameras was fixed on me the whole time. All of a sudden wouldn't you know it, they both bugled at the same time, both of my arms went up and my head snapped back.  Then we all got the giggles but the turks did not seem to mind.  After little while they started to go back from where they came from. Don tried seducing them again, they would answer but they would not turn around.

We didn't have to wait long for some more turks to come by.  This time it was three jakes.  Barry asked me while we were getting set up what I wanted to shoot, a tom or a jake.  I said whatever strolls by.  The three jakes didn't take long to come into the decoys.  They actually circled the decoys.  The only problem was when I had a shot Barry could not see because of the diagonal frame on the blind.  And when he could see them I could not get a shot.  I was holding on the biggest bird waiting for Barry to give me the OK.  Finally he gave me the go-ahead and I shot and I missed.  I shot low.  It looked like I might have shot one of the legs.  They flew away giving us some time to cock the crossbow again.  After some discussion on how the heck I missed the shot we decided to keep calling.  It did not take long to get a response.  This time there were three different big toms.  We played with them for quite a while but they would not come in either.  By this time it was getting pretty dark and Don B. decided he had enough time to try and spot and stalk before the daylight ran out.  He never got a shot at them but when he and Barry were going through the trees they spooked up about 100 deer and 15 to 20 turkeys.  That was quite a sight to see. There was game running everywhere. 

But the hunt was not over yet.  When Don B. was on his way back to the shaggin wagon he saw a couple jakes and thought maybe one was the one that I wounded.  One of them ran and the other just stood there so he decided to take a shot with his bow.  It was a 55 yard shot but we practice that distance all of the time.  After he let the arrow go he heard a big crack and he thought he must've missed.  He went down to check his arrow and the big crack was when it hit a dried out log.  But when he grabbed the arrow he felt blood and then he noticed some feathers strewn around.  Anyway, his spring turkey hunting was over but it was for a good reason. He cleaned up my miss. Thanks.

I went out a couple more times by myself.  Those times I was hunting along the Maple River east of Enderlin.  I always saw or at least heard some birds but nothing ever came in.  I think I educated quite a few birds that spring.  The last day of the season we drove around east of Anslem in the sand hills but we did not see a single bird.  So turkey tag soup was on the menu for 2010. Turkeys and me do not get along.

The summer of 2010 was filled with many shenanigans as usual. There was a lot of baseball, shooting 3-D targets and a little fishing.  I hadn't been fishing for at least a couple years.  There were a lot of different reasons why.  The main reason was most of my buddies that I used to go fishing with had now moved on with their lives and just don't have the time.  The biggest reason why I hadn't is because since I had gotten my last wheelchair, I hadn't gotten around rigging up the new fishing rod holder to the chair.  But after some friendly persuasion from Big J a.k.a. bullheadmaster, I started working on it.  I drew up some plans that I thought might work and gave them to Don B. to engineer the holder.  A couple of days later it was done.

               

These fishes were taken in the Minnesota gill hole.

I only went out a couple of times fishing over the summer.  I planned on doing a lot more but there always seemed to be something going on or somewhere I needed to be for that to happen.  The first time I tried my new rod holder out was at the Casselton Reservoir with Big J.  We met there one fine afternoon and decided to give it a whirl.  The fishing rig worked really well.  I even got to show him how I do my patented double hook set.  We caught quite a few fish that day, nothing huge but it didn't matter, all that I cared was that I was fishing again.  I even caught a good buzz that day. We met some of the locals and ended up at Bowtech's garage, Jason is his name. That was neat.

 

This is the from 2nd Annual Fishingbuddy Bullhead tournament.

The second time I went fishing during that summer was for the First Annual Fishingbuddy Bullhead Tournament.  It was held on a Sunday afternoon at the Sheyenne Diversion in West Fargo.  There were about a dozen fishingbuddy members that showed up.  The fishing wasn't that good but the company and friendships made were worth battling the 90° heat and 30 mile an hour winds. The night before Tyler a.k.a. moosehunter09, his wife and I pre-fished at O'Kelly's. There was karaoke. I dropped the mic like it was hot. Stuff and things happened. I am not saying, but I am saying this could be why I almost overheated and stroked out on the shores of the Sheyenne.

Most of my adventures after this blog entry are in my blog somewhere. I might add a couple more stories to this but then again, maybe not so much.

Thanks for reading, Clint.