Pneumonia and stuff.

 

I started feeling a little off on October 26. My head was a little clogged up but I didn't think too much of it. Wednesday I felt pretty good but then Thursday started feeling poorly. Tried to make an appointment the next day either in Enderlin or Lisbon but they were full. Over the weekend it kept getting worse and worse. I could tell the congestion was getting bad. There was a lot of rattling in my lungs every time I breathed. I have a video of me trying to breathe and it is not good.

I was able to get an appointment November 1 in Lisbon at the Sanford clinic at 3 PM. Before they would let me in, I had to do a Covid test. So I had to get there an hour early to make sure I was clear of that stuff. When I was cleared I went in and didn't wait long to get called back to room. The NP was in quickly and she could tell right away that I was sick. She looked in my ears, down my throat and said everything looks good there. Then she give a listen to my lungs. She put the stethoscope in one spot and that was enough. She said you have pneumonia. She then said she was going to give me a shot of steroids to help open up my lungs and she would put me on some antibiotics right away. She also told me to put a humidifier in my room. I cranked it on high, it felt like a rain forest in my room. Like a sauna…

We stopped at the drug store on the way home and picked up the prescriptions and nebulizer. I was parked right in front of the Cattleman's. It was tempting but I knew better. Good grief. Anyway when I got home I popped a pill and it felt pretty good for a while. When I woke up the next morning I took another pill and could breathe a little bit better. Had some soup for lunch and pretty much slept the afternoon away.

Wednesday, November 3 when I woke up I knew things were not good. I was very short of breath. I could not breathe in deeply at all. It was almost like hyperventilating. About 11 AM that morning I decided maybe I should get up to see if that would help my breathing at all. About noon I realized being in the wheelchair wasn't helping. It is not fun not being able to breathe. I think it was around 12:30 PM when I decided I either had to go to the ER or call 911. I realized that I wasn't going to be able to get to Fargo without the help of some medical assistance. So we decided to call 911. An ambulance was going to come from Casselton and in the meantime first responders came from Enderlin. LaTeasa and Don B showed up. Then came a Cass County Deputy. He was going to direct the ambulance to the right location. LaTeasa hooked me up with oxygen which seemed to help a little bit. It kept me from hyperventilating. But I was still very short of breath.

The ambulance got there around 1:30 PM. I was in my wheelchair in the living room so mom had to throw me on the stretcher. Once they got me all strapped in I was out the door, down the ramp and in the back of the ambulance. When I was inside Don B was shutting the doors, as he was shutting the second door I voiced to him, "Make sure Sarah knows!" He nodded as he shut the door. At that point I had no clue what was going to happen. You never know.

As soon as the door was shut the driver turned west and then we went north on county line, turned east towards Alice and north to I 94. It wasn't too long and we were at the new Sanford Medical Center. On the way there I learned that the paramedic has been doing this for 36 years I believe he said. He was good. We were bouncing up and down in the back while he put a needle in my vein to get everything ready for when I got to the ER. I was impressed. Some can't find a vein while I am sitting still in a room let alone going 85+ mph down a bumpy interstate.

Once we got to the hospital I was brought into my own room and the doctor was there in no time. He listened to my lungs and within a couple minutes there was a respiratory therapist there to see what he could do. The first thing he said he was going to do was a quad push. For those of you who do not know this is designed to help quadriplegics cough. It is like getting punched in the stomach with an upward motion to make you expel the air out of your lungs. It is not a pleasant experience. I guess I had to do this quite a bit when I was first injured but I do not remember it. Thank goodness. He tried this two or three times and nothing worked. I was too clogged up.

So next up was the NT tube. This is when they stick a tube up your nose, down your throat and into your lungs. This is fun. Good times. The tube is hooked to a vacuum and it sucks out everything it can. He did this down one nostril and got quite a bit of sludge up. Then he did the other nostril. He did each side four times. After that I told him no more. My nose was getting to sore and it was starting to bleed, internally. It was helping but there's only so much you can take. NT suctioning sucks, literally and figuratively.

Next up was throat suctioning. This is when they shove a tube down your throat and into your lungs. This was like heaven compared to the NT tube going down the nose. He did this quite a few times with different angles trying to suck up as much as he could. After numerous times of getting stuff up with suction he decided that he had gotten everything up that was going to come up, so he let me rest for a while.

I did not realize it but all of that fun stuff lasted quite a while because I didn't get into my room until about 8 PM that first day. I think I was in the ER from 3:30 PM until the room was open around eight. During my stay I learned there was 67 tiles on my ceiling and 34 are whole tiles, not cut. This is in room 816 if you ever want to check my math.

When I got to my room a nurse and nurse assistant got me into my bed and soon after there was a respiratory therapist ready to make a plan for the week. They did not have a cough assist machine on hand but she guaranteed she would bring one in the morning. That night she could tell I was clogged up so she did the NT tube again. This time only three times down each nostril. Man that sucks. But it did help. She also tried doing a couple quad pushes. That didn't seem to help. By the time she was ready to leave I asked the nurse if I could eat anything. Of course the kitchen was closed but she brought me some dry whole-wheat toast with no butter that I could put some peanut butter and jelly on. I am not a fan but man that did taste good after eating nothing all day. During the night I had to call the nurse to have respiratory therapist come to help me breathe two different times.

The next morning after like getting no sleep, literally no sleep, one of the respiratory therapists was there around 7 AM. The cough assist machine still wasn't there but she put a tube down my throat numerous times and got quite a bit of sludge up again. She also tried quad push with no luck. Then she told me what the plan was for the next couple days. A respiratory therapist would come around 7 AM, 11 AM, 5 PM and 10 PM every day. They would also be available throughout the night whenever they were needed. She also said during their visits they would start with a nebulizer with two different potions before using the cough assist machine. One potion is to loosen up the sludge in my lungs and the other is to open up the airways. Sidebar: She didn't use the term potion, but I can't remember what was in the two different nebulizer solutions. At 11 AM when the therapist came the next time she brought the cough assist machine. This was the first time I have ever used one.

A cough assist machine does this… "As the patient breathes in, the cough assist machine gives extra air which expands the lungs called “positive pressure,” then as the person exhales the machine then uses suction to withdraw the extra air from the lungs called “negative pressure.” This action forces the patient to cough deeply enabling them to shift mucus from their lungs." It will literally knock the wind out of you. It is kind of designed to do that. It is kind of spooky the first time you use it. But when you realize it is helping you, it becomes almost natural.

There was a couple times when there was stuff coming up but it got stuck halfway. One time my eyes got really big when she was suctioning through my throat and something got stuck in my airway and the respiratory therapist said, "Don't worry, I won't let you choke!" Evidently she could tell I was worried by the look in my eyes. She raced around the bed and grabbed the cough assist machine and smashed it on my face. She turned it on and it blew air down my lungs and sucked it back out. Whatever was in there was dislodged and I could finally breathe. There were a couple moments like that during the week. That sucked, literally.

In fact, before they would let me go home they said I had to have a cough assist machine. I wasn't going to argue because I knew how well these machines worked over the last couple days. They are seriously lifesavers. Every respiratory therapist I had wrote in their notes to the doctor that I needed a prescription for a cough assist machine. The caseworker got the doctor to sign the prescription and before I left two therapists brought down a new machine and showed us how to run it. It is pretty simple, which is nice.

Everything about the new hospital is nice and shiny except for the menu. This is the same exact menu they have had for at least 15 years. Over my past stays I have learned what to eat and not to. Thankfully I usually have visitors who will bring me food but that is usually just for supper. For dinner I usually order an everything omelette with hashbrowns on the side. They seem to never screw that up and it actually doesn't taste bad, not good either but not bad. The other go to meal if you're ever there is chicken strips, potato wedges and a plate of raw veggies. Another good one is turkey breast with a side of scalloped potatoes. I would suggest never getting any cooked vegetables. Always get a plate of raw veggies. It is not on the menu but they have it. You can also get individual pizza or a sandwich made with anything you want. Everything else sucks. Trust me. You're welcome.

This was my menu for the week:

First Day - whole-wheat toast with peanut butter and jelly.

Second Day - everything omelette with hashbrowns for lunch. Meatballs and noodles from Brutus Brickhouse. Thanks mom and Randi.

Third Day - chicken strips, potato wedges, raw veggies for lunch. Buffalo wings, onion rings and coleslaw from Wings and Rings. Thanks mom.

Fourth Day - everything omelette with hashbrowns for lunch. House Special Pizza from Duane's House of Pizza. Thanks mom.

Fifth Day - chicken strips, potato wedges, raw veggies for lunch. Chinese food from Nine Dragons. Thanks mom.

Don't worry, I tipped her well for the week of food. She's the best. By the way, mom had a little vacation herself. She stayed at a really nice hotel next door with a hot tub and some Angry Orchard beer.

I also learned while going through notes from my stay that I have had 27 surgeries since 2004. For some reason that is as far back as it went. I know I had more before that. Most of those surgeries are for kidney and bladder stones. A couple flap surgeries. At least one skin graph. A couple surgeries were to clean out infected areas of stuff and things. One of these days I'll have to add up my total tally. I'm way over 30. That doesn't seem real but it is. Crazy.

I got a total of 12 hours of sleep during my six day, five night stay at the all-inclusive Scamford Inn & Suites. I guess the old saying is true, you don't go to the hospital for rest. Too much beeping and interruptions for any sack time. The worst part was that I found out when I am just about to fall asleep my heart rate drops below 50 beats per second and that is when the alarm goes off on the monitor. Evidently the monitor thinks that is too low for a person to be alive or something. Jerks. One of the nurses even said, "Man, you sure know how to relax when you relax." They always ask when they see my heart rate and blood pressure, "Do you feel all right? Are you going to pass out on me?" I assure them that I am fine and this is just the normal me. I don't get too excited.

I learned quite a few things during my stay. I have learned that I have been quite lucky with my quadriplegia. Most in my position have had many bouts with pneumonia or some other type of lung problem. The doctors and especially the respiratory therapists could not believe that I had never used a cough assist machine before.

FYI: Sanford has a strict policy of only two visitors per day. They take a picture of your ID at the door.

As I write this I have only been home for about a day. I have used the cough assist machine five times so far. And it is working well. I have gotten stuff up the last couple times. It is simple to use. I was prescribed to use the cough assist machine four times a day after doing a nebulizer session. The nebulizer takes about ten minutes and I do five reps with the cough machine. If nothing comes up I quit if something does come up I do another five reps. It doesn't take too long. One thing that I find is weird is that I never had a temperature or anything else that made me feel sick. Just the congestion in my lungs. I feel totally normal except for the rattling in my lungs. Not sure how long that is going to last but I need to keep doing the nebulizer and cough assist machine until it is gone. All I know is community acquired pneumonia sucks.

I have to say everyone that I dealt with during my stay was top-notch. The nurses, the nurse assistants, caseworkers, respiratory therapists and the doctors were great. I had no problems at all with anyone I encountered. Until next time Sanford…

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Fred Bear's 10 Commandments of Hunting:

 

1. Don't step on anything you can step over.

2. Don't look for deer; look for movement (and remember, it's what they're looking for, too).

3. Always approach downwind. In the cool of the day, move uphill; in the heat of the day, move downhill.

4. The best camouflage pattern is called, "Sit down and be quiet!" Your grandpa hunted deer in a red plaid coat. Think about that for a second.

5. Take only the gear to the field that allows you to hunt longer, harder, and smarter.

6. A rainstorm isn't a reason to quit the hunt. It's a reason to stay.

7. Camouflage your appearance, your sound and your scent.

8. Be sure of your shot. Nothing is more expensive than regret.

9. Hunt where the deer actually are, not where you'd imagine them to be.

10. Next year's hunt begins the minute this season's hunt ends.

Going places close.

There are a lot of neat places to see close to home that most people don't ever think about going or maybe even have never heard of. They might not be the most exciting or interesting to some folks but they are worth the trip. There are hundreds of places like that in every area including the great state of North Dakota. If you like history and scenic views, the options are endless for places to visit. I visited a couple of these places in a day trip a couple weeks ago.

I have wanted to go to the Whitestone Hill historical site for quite a while. This summer I made it happen. It is the site of a battle between Indians and Soldiers. You can read more about the conflict in these two links here and here.

I was a little leery about traveling the gravel roads in that area but coming from the northeast towards the historical site the roads were perfect. We did not meet another vehicle traveling from Edgeley all the way there. It is pretty desolate. The historical site it is well-maintained. There are a couple different shelters, a campground and bathroom.

When doing some research on this place it didn't seem like the hill was very steep. Let me tell you the hill is very steep. When we first pulled up I was kind of bummed because I didn't think I would be able to make it up to the monument. The north side of the hill is very steep but there are steps with a railing. As we went around to the southwest side of the hill I figured I would be able to at least try it. It was sketchy but with mom on the back pushing, making sure I did not flip over backwards, it worked. It didn't take too long to get to the top. I would not try it with a manual wheelchair. I was glad I was able to make it up there. The view is amazing. You can see to the east it seems forever.

As soon as you get there you realize where you are and the history that happened there. You can picture the history unfolding in front of you. You also see that the monument for the soldiers is huge and the monument for the Indians is not so big. Going down the hill was sketchy also. But we made it.

On the way home we decided to stop at the Standing Rock Historical Site. I have been here many times but the view is always worth it. Doesn't matter what time of year but in the Fall the view is spectacular. For more info on Standing Rock, click here.

I can't believe that I have never been to this place before. It is only a couple hours from home. Next summer I hope to knock off quite a few more sites on my list of places to go. For more of historical places associated with the Sibley & Sully Expeditions, click here.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Thankful and stuff.

I have been very lucky to be able to do what I have did. I don't notice too many at least in our area, people in wheelchairs, quads out and about enjoying life. Most of them I think are locked up and the key is thrown away. Out of sight out of mind, so to speak. But with my support system around me, letting me do the stuff I do, it makes life not suck.

I was thinking about this Sunday while I was sitting outside enjoying the sunshine and beautiful weather waiting to go to the range to help with the High School Trap Team. I also just got done eating dinner that consisted of a deer roast from a buckaroo I shot last fall with my crossbow. That would be a mouthful for a lot of people in a wheelchair to say. Just that sentence alone, most have not did. But I'm a lucky boy in the wheelchair. Lucky because of my support system and the life you all let me live. 

Thanks for reading, Clint.

2014 Rifle Buck and stuff.

The 2014 hunting season was a challenging season. I had not seen many deer while sitting. The deers were there, just not when I was there. My game cameras were full of pictures since August and had been out since June. That year I sat in four different locations with my crossbow but never once had a shot at a buck. Frustration was setting in.

I was lucky enough to draw a rifle tag that year in my home unit. It had been three years since I had drawn one. The first week of rifle season I sat with my crossbow because I like getting up close and personal with them. But I had no luck and I was sick of sitting in the cold. The temperatures were in the 20s and there always seemed to be a stiff wind full of suck. So I decided to bring out the rifle. I like to call it cheating.

I also decided to call up my friend Tito a.k.a. Lawrence. He doesn't have all of his fingers but he is pretty neat. We did some scouting during his four days off from work and we found a honey hole of antlers. We were driving by some CRP when we saw some pheasants fly into a slough. As soon as the pheasants landed, the slough exploded with deer. Six bucks and a handful of does were in the bunch. The bucks started sizing each other up. It was crazy. Second time I have seen anything like it. The bucks were fighting each other, hard-core. The rut was on. The other bucks were watching and taking their turns when the loser would quit. We watched them for about fifteen minutes, just to watch them in their glory. They didn't care that we were only about 40 yards away in the shaggin wagon. There was one Hartford buck that was the king of the CRP. Later that afternoon we watched him chase a doe over a mile. Most hunters would be proud to have him on their wall. But we only saw him one more time in the next two days and he never gave me a shot. I told Tito I was going to shoot anything with antlers and he said, "Bull, we are going for a big buck, not a sausage stuffer."

Where all of these deer were was right on the edge of the farmstead. So we went into the yard to ask the landowner if I could hunt. As we were pulling into the driveway Tito said, "You could get set up right in their yard and shoot any of those bucks right now!" I knew exactly what he meant and I was getting excited. We pulled up to the house, Tito and I got out, went up to the door and knocked. The landowner came out and he knew what we were going to ask. I imagine he saw our hunter orange and knew what was up. We told him the scenario and asked for permission. He declined us though because the deer were too close to his house. We explained that we would shoot away from the buildings but he still denied us, which is his right and we were fine with it. There is more than one way to skin a cat.

We decided we would head over east back towards my place and sit a couple hundred yards away from a shelter belt that I have been seeing a lot of bucks on one of my trail cams. We opened up the back driver’s side door of the shaggin wagon and we got the rifle mount on my chair. It was a cool brisk day that afternoon so I decided to sit in the vehicle with the heater blowing with the door wide open. It worked pretty slick. (At that time I had a permit to shoot out of vehicle.) We didn't see anything while sitting but we made a plan for the next day. The shaggin wagon was full of cigert smoke and disappointment.

The next afternoon Tito and I picked up his dad Lowell. He was going to be our pusher, little did he know. On our way to the honey hole where we saw all of the deer the day before we saw a lone deer. It was a buck and we were only 2 miles from the house when we found him around 3 PM. He was all by himself, in the middle of nowhere. Tito quickly hopped out of his seat, put the rifle on my chair mount and I was within 10 seconds of taking the shot. Just when I was getting him in the scope he took off. Right at that time a vehicle passed us and we realized why that buck took off in such a hurry. We were parked in the middle of the gravel road. Geesh. Always check your mirrors kids.

Little did we know about two hours later we would see that buck again. But in between the encounters with him we found at least 15 more deer including five bucks, a couple shooters. We did a lot of glassing. But nothing would align correctly for me to get a shot. We even had Lowell push a little bit of CRP towards us but to no avail.

With about a half-hour left of shooting time we were making our way home. Tito was looking out one window while driving and Lowell was in the passenger seat looking out the other window. I was of course in the back scanning every direction for movement. We were just a mile east of where we saw all of the bucks the day earlier. It was getting pretty dark and Tito said, "Do you guys see anything? Because I haven't seen squat." Lowell said he wasn't seen anything. That's when I said, "Why don't I shoot that buck standing in front of us in the middle of the road?" They were both shocked. It was funnier than heck because they didn't notice him. They were too busy looking out their windows. This buck had no care in the world. He was twitterpated. His nose was to the gravel and he didn't even notice us. I bet we were not 30 yards away from him.

It was the first buck we saw earlier in the afternoon. On the left side of us was a CRP field that was also PLOTS land (Public Land Open to Sportsmen). He walked into the CRP with his nose on the ground. Tito stopped the vehicle and opened the back driver's-side door. We got my rifle mount on as quickly as we could and Tito jacked a bullet into the chamber. The buck was a little over 250 yards away when I tried to find him in my scope. I tried getting my chair lined up so that my rifle was aiming in the right direction. When that is done then I need to move my shoulder around to find them in my scope. For some reason something wasn't set up right with the mount. I was struggling and I didn't know why. Tito asked me what he should do and I didn't have a clue. All of a sudden Lowell pushed the butt of the rifle towards the middle of my shoulder. As soon as he did that it felt comfortable and I found Mr. Buckaroo standing there broadside.

I got on the buck through the scope as quick as I could, I took the shot and missed. He didn't even move. I didn't know where the shot went. Tito and Lowell didn't know where I shot either. I took another shot and down he went like a pile of bricks. I was excited. But I think Tito and Lowell were more excited than I. It was good times. We quickly talked about what just happened. We decided that I would call home and have mom bring Tito's pickup over.

We were only 2 1/2 miles from our farmstead, so it did not take her long to get there. But by the time she did get there it was dark. Tito said he would walk out there, tag the buck and then Lowell would go help him gut it and drag back to the road. But first Tito would have to find it in the dark. Lowell and I stayed by the shaggin wagon to direct Tito to where the deer was laying. It took a little bit of yelling and using the flashlight to steer him in the right direction but it didn't take long for him to find it. I decided I was going to get back in the shaggin wagon to warm up and I figured I would see Lowell making his way out to Tito by foot. But nope, he decided to drive Tito's vehicle out into the PLOTS, which is not so good unless you have permission from the landowner. I just laughed to myself. I know what Lowell was thinking, "Why in the hell would I walk when I could drive?"

As soon as Lowell got out there in Tito's pickup, Tito said, "You know you can't drive out here?" Lowell replied back, "Well, I just did!" Tito just shook his head and started gutting my buck. I still laugh at that scenario. That is good stuff. It didn't take him long to get him gutted, then we brought him to the locker and the celebration began with a few libations.

This hunt ranks up there with one of my most memorable. There are some more stories to the story but I don't think I should tell them on this platform. Ask me about them over a cocktail. I am pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on most of the stuff and things. Good grief.

November 20, 2014 was the 18th day I was in the field that year with either my crossbow or rifle. That day I shot him with my Remington .243 model 7400 around 270 yards. Give or take. He ended up not being the biggest or oldest buck we were chasing, but that never really seems to matter. It's about the stories and the memories made that make for a great hunt. Tito and I still giggle about this hunt.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

 

 

Earning it and stuff.

 

I have gotten a second chance. I have tried to earn it. I know I have failed in doing that sometimes but every day I want to try and earn it. I have made mistakes. But I try to minimize them. I try not to suck but sometimes the suck just happens. Earning it is hard. Sometimes it is easy earning it but when I think of the second chance that I have gotten, that second chance makes me want to do more.

Every day and every week and every month and every year I hope to earn it a little more. More than the day before. Waking up saying to yourself that you are going to earn it makes that day go a lot better. Of course there are days that you just don't give a crap but I try to limit days like those.

By earning it every day I don't mean doing big things, I mean the little everyday things. It could be as simple as telling someone thanks or that you appreciate them. Even if it is just putting a smile on someone's face. To me that is earning that day. It is worth it.

The other side of earning it is the regrets of life. The stuff and things you should have done. The stuff and things you should not have done. I have had some big regrets. Those types of regrets when you wish you could take back a certain day or even a certain conversation. Those really suck. But by earning that day or moment back, hopefully you can reverse that regret. Hopefully by the end of the day, week, month and year you have less regret and feel like you have earned it.

You need to do it for yourself. Sometimes it is good to be selfish. It's good to be selfish when you are earning it. The best way you can earn it is by helping others. But once you take care of you, you can take care of others. You need to earn it for yourself.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

More Adaptive Trigger Mechanisms.

When I first got back into hunting one of the biggest obstacles I needed to figure out was how I was going to pull the trigger on whichever weapon I wanted to shoot. My accident in 1994 left me a C 4-5 quadriplegic. That means that I do not have any finger movement, I have a little wrist movement on my left, no wrist movement on the right side but I do have use of my elbows. So knowing this I needed to figure out how to pull the trigger without using finger dexterity.

I started hunting again in 1998 but was using only a crossbow and the trigger needed for that particular weapon was a lot simpler than it would be on a rifle. I received my rifle mount for my wheelchair in 2005 from a friend. We had talked and had looked on the Internet for different types of wheelchair rifle mounts and one day I was surprised by my friend Dustin with this awesome gift. Now we just needed to figure out how to mount it to my wheelchair, because nothing is simple. All wheelchairs are not made with the same dimensions. There was going to be a need for some farming ingenuity. It actually did not take long for my dad Roger to figure out how to attach the rifle mount to my wheelchair.

Getting a trigger to work that I could use was going to be difficult. First we tried putting a hook made of heavy gauge wire on my wrist splint, having me reach up and pull the trigger. This actually worked a little bit but I could not get the hook off the trigger by myself, so that wasn't very safe. I didn't have enough control. Next we tried putting a string around the trigger and having it hang down far enough so that I could hook it and pull back. This also worked but was not very reliable.

In 2009 came the eye-opening, voilà moment. My uncle Gary, brother-in-law Brad, friend Don B, my dad, my friend Lawrence and myself were trying to come up with a solution for the trigger. Uncle Gary mentioned having some type of lever that would trip the trigger and then my dad said we could attach it to the trigger guard and then Don B said I have an idea. Within a couple days Don B had the trigger machined out and it was ready for a test run. I couldn't believe how easy the trigger worked the first time I tried it and I was glad I had it on video. The design is so easy and simple, yet it works perfectly. It took us 4 years to figure it out but it was well worth it. 

Since the first design of the trigger we really haven't had to change much about it. Depending on what gun it is going to get mounted on, sometimes the gap where it attaches to the trigger guard needs to be made a little bigger. With a fine file this can be done quickly. But one of the best things about this trigger mechanism is that it is pretty universal. I can switch it from my Ruger 22 to my Remington Model 7400 and then to my Weatherby shotgun with just a simple allen wrench. No adjustments need to be made. This trigger mechanism even works on my Carbon Express Intercept crossbow. This trigger mechanism has fit on every rifle I have tried it on. The only guns it does not fit on are some shotguns. The reason is because some shotgun trigger guards are rounded. For this trigger mechanism to work the trigger guard needs to be flat below the trigger.

In 2018 we got the trigger mechanism fine-tuned, I decided to post a video on my YouTube channel. After a while this video started getting more views and shares and I learned from the comments that there was a need for this trigger. It didn't take long and I had a list of about 10 disabled shooters that were interested if I could make more. The problem was where I could get more made. Then someone suggested asking one of the trade schools in the state. So I looked up the machinist instructor at North Dakota State College of Science in Wahpeton, Steve Johnson. Johnson is an Associate Professor/Chair for the Precision Machining Technology and Welding Technology Departments at the college. As soon as I brought the idea to Johnson, he was very interested and said his spring semester class would use it for one of their class projects. Once I got the specs to Steve, the wheels were set in motion. I received the 20 triggers made from his class that May. The next week we had them tested and they were ready to be shipped. I can't thank Johnson and his class enough for what they have done for me and my fellow disabled shooters throughout the nation. We are indebted.

Before I send out one of the triggers I make sure that the individual actually needs the mechanism. Once I find this out I send them a waiver to have them sign. Once the waiver is signed and returned to me, I send them one of the triggers Johnson's class made. There is no charge for the trigger.

It took about two years to find enough people to take the first 20 triggers. Starting in the spring of 2020 I started getting more requests but I had to turn people down. I kept their names on the list just in case I got enough requests. Now that there was enough interest, I contacted Instructor Johnson again about making more triggers. When I talked to Steve about mid-summer of this year, he told me with the Coronavirus going on to get a hold of him sometime in September. So that is what I did and Steve and his class 30 more triggers. Yesterday I sent out seven triggers including one going to Canada and a couple to Louisiana. Now more people will be enjoying the shooting sports because of what Steve Johnson and his machining class from North Dakota State College of Science has provided for them.

Thanks for reading, Clint.

Hunting 4C for a Muley Buck.

Thanks to the White Stallion, a.k.a. Dusty and the guys in my texting group I got the opportunity to hunt in the most prized unit in the state for mule deer. You see the White Stallion was hunting last year and he noticed that someone had a different looking tag wrapped around an antler so he asked about it. He found out from this person how he obtained the tag. So one day during our daily conversation of random texts, he asked me if I knew about it. I had no clue. I didn't even think it was true. But then another guy in the texting group Taylor, a.k.a. The Cando Killer made some calls and found out it was possible.

So knowing this valuable information I now had to decide what unit I was going to apply for. I knew in the back of my mind I wanted to go after a mule deer buck. It was on my bucket list. But I just didn't know if it would be possible for me physically, getting my wheelchair around the rugged territory of the Badlands. Also did not know where or who I would get land access from. I know there is a lot of public land out west but it would be even more not sucky if I could get on some private land. That is when Enslow a.k.a. Matthew, another guy from texting group said I should apply for unit 4C. He had been hunting out there for years and knew a landowner that he thought would let me hunt on his land.

Enslow made a call and landowner graciously said that I could hunt on his land. So it was settled. 4C was going to be my destination. I was pumped. Now I have to decide where I was going to stay. I really didn't want to stay in a motel in Killdeer or Watford City. The drive back and forth to the hunting grounds would suck. I knew there were cabins up there to rent so I inquired if there were any openings during the rifle season. The first place I contacted was the Lone Butte Cabins. Just by looking at their website I could tell I wanted to stay here. But I needed to make sure there was an opening and I needed to make sure that I could get my wheelchair into the cabin.

I asked the owners if they could take some pictures and do some measurements for me of the cabins to see if my wheelchair would work. They have two different cabins to rent. The owners said no problem and within a couple days I had pictures and a lot of detailed information was sent to my phone. With this I decided that the Juniper Ridge Cabin was going to be my Huckleberry. It also worked out perfectly that the cabin was available November 15 through the 19th. I figured this was the perfect amount of time knowing that my body would be dead tired after that many days of hunting, especially after the long drive. That really takes it out of me. Also, later in the season the more likely the mule deer bucks will be in rut.

After some paperwork of stuff and things I had a tag. I could not believe that I had a 4C any deer tag. Never thought it would happen. To draw in this unit might take almost 10 points for a mule deer buck tag. I have even been buying points in South Dakota for mule deer but that might take five more years to get enough points. I knew going in that the odds of me actually shooting something was going to be pretty slim. But being able to get on private land was going to help those odds. It's good to know good people. I just love hunting new territory. I had never been north of 94 on Highway 85. I had never been to the North Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Because of the good people I know all of this was going to happen.

I knew I was going to use my dad's Tika .270 WIN rifle for the location. I tested it out on my gun mount earlier in the summer and it was going to work perfectly. Even the trigger mechanism worked slick. When I got my new wheelchair in September I did not know how my rifle mount was going to work. But as I wrote about earlier in a different blog, the rifle mount attached to my new wheelchair with just a couple different modifications.

Enslow and I were in communication throughout the whole process about how things were going to go down during the hunt. He graciously took vacation for the days that I would be out there. He said he had a bunch stacked up anyway and he just loves that country. So first of all it was just going to be myself, my mom and Enslow. I think we could've made it happen but it would have been tough. A couple weeks before the hunt my friend Don B offered to go along and help. This was a big relief for not only me but also my mom I believe. Now she could just get me ready around noon and she could relax in the hot tub while I was hunting. That doesn't suck.

So on the morning of November 15 mom and I drove to Enderlin to get Don B. He hopped in the driver’s seat and drove the whole way to Grassy Butte. We had great weather on the way out and we only stopped once for a pit stop. There wasn't much traffic on 94 or on 85. It was smooth sailing.

When we turned east off of Highway 85 we started to see animals. First we saw antelope, then we saw whitetail deer, then we saw turkeys, then we saw grouse and then we saw some mule deer. I knew this wasn't going to suck and I knew that I picked the perfect place to stay.

Enslow got to the landowner's place earlier that morning. When we turned north of Bellfield I contacted him to see if he could help us unpack the pickup and set up the ramps when we got there. Sure enough just like clockwork he was right in front of us as we pulled up to the Juniper Ridge cabin. It wasn't long and everything was unpacked and in the cabin. I also brought along three of my ramps. We used one of the wooden ramps to get on the walkway, we used the Roll-A-Ramp to get up the steps and we used a piece of plywood to get up to the threshold of the cabin door. Everything worked slick.

But before I even went into the cabin I couldn't take my eye off of the view. Holy Shinto. Everywhere you looked was a postcard. Sincerely. It is crazy beautiful. What a view. There is a deep ravine to the northwest of the cabin and to the northeast is Lone Butte. We took a lot of pictures but even though the pictures are great it does not do the view any justice. The best part is you can see all of this from the hot tub on the deck. There is also a path to the west of the cabin that takes you to what Don B called, "Inspiration Point." From this spot you can see for miles. I believe we saw deer right away down in the gully.

We then checked out the cabin. It is fully loaded. The only thing you need to bring is food and beverage. There is a full kitchen, dining room, cable TV, four beds, a rocking chair and a couch. It is a log cabin and it has that log cabin feel. There are antlers and stuff hanging all over. I could live here. Easily. Kind of looks like my bedroom with the dead things on the wall. I would highly recommend staying at the Lone Butte Cabins.

I needed to tilt back for a while and after that we decided to go for a little tour of the area with Enslow. He knows this place like the back of his hand. When we went west of Grassy Butte I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It is hard to explain. The ruggedness and the just pure beauty are overwhelming. I think it is indescribable. I fell in love with everything that I was seeing. And just to top it off we were seeing deers of every variety. It definitely did not suck. If I go back I might not ever come back. I told the guys that the trip was already worth it. I really didn't care if I shot anything. Just being out there in that country was a dream fulfilled. I cannot get enough of it.

On the way back to the cabin which was 19 miles away from the place we were going to be hunting, I figured out an easy way to explain how to get there if I was ever held up by gunpoint. I would say, "It is six cattle guards and seven culverts away just on the other side of the Beicegel Creek." That should narrow it down…

One thing that I for sure learned is that this trip would have never been possible without my pickup. We were on some rugged roads and I know the shaggin wagon would never have been able to make it to the spot I was going to hunt. Also, there would have not been enough room in the shaggin wagon for all of the gear we brought along. Thanks again for the pickup. Notice how I do not call it a truck. Sorry, that is a pet peeve of mine. Carry on.

When we got back to the cabin we had some homemade lasagna that mom heated up. That hit the spot. We brought lasagna, pork chops, deer sausage, potatoes, onions, noodles, bread, butter, eggs and bacon along to eat. The only thing I forgot was the summer sausage that was in the fridge at home. I was worrying the whole way up that I forgot something essential like bullets or my tag. Thank goodness the summer sausage was the only thing.

We decided earlier that I would not be hunting in the morning. As most of you know I only can be in the chair so long so we decided that the afternoon hunt would be the best. So I would get in the chair around noon and be at the hunting spot around 2 PM. It took about a half-hour to get to where we needed to be.

The next morning we had some eggs and bacon for breakfast. The anticipation was high. I couldn't wait to get in the chair. It was actually bothering me. I wanted to get up early and just get out there. It sucks waiting. But eventually it was noon and I got in the wheelchair. We had some more lasagna and in no time it was time to head out. Enslow met us at the harvested oat field where we would set up a pop-up blind. We didn't set it up the night before because it was very windy. Enslow hopped in the back seat of my pickup and we drove through the dried-up creek onto the field. The view from where we were was unbelievable. There were buttes in every direction. We took quite a few pictures but again the pictures just don't do it justice.

I believe we were in the blind by 2 PM exactly. As Enslow drove away I couldn't believe where I was. I was happy in my facial region. I still am by the way. As he was driving out of the field we saw a decent whitetail buck jump out of the draw just to the west and burn to the southwest. He must've gotten spooked.

After that first whitetail buck we didn't see anything for the first hour and a half. But right at 3:30 PM stuff and things started to happen. We were facing west and the wind was generally from the northwest. We thought most of the deer would come out of the draw that was a couple hundred yards in front of us. I could hear some soft grunts to the south. I believe I heard two of them and I asked Don B if he could hear them. Then I heard a couple more grunts. Then I could hear footprints through the crusted snow. Then a mule deer doe with twins were the first to appear. They came from my left. The old doe knew something was up. She was giving us the stink eye. The twins didn't care. But she did not like that pop-up blind. She stared at us for quite a while. I knew we were busted. She then made her way to the east out of view but I could hear her them bounding away. First time I have ever heard that. Neat. Boing, boing, boing…

Not long after she took off Don B looked behind us through a crack in the window and said there was deer behind us. There was a handful of mule deer. Pretty soon he says, "There is elk also!" I couldn't believe it. At first I thought he was shitting me. But I could see the excitement in his eyes. I was pumped. He could see four elk through the crack. He then said, "I wish you could see them. Do you want to see them?" Of course I said yes. We just had to figure out how to get me turned around. Then Don B had a brilliant idea. We would do the pop-up blind pivot. He would kind of stand up and push up on the ceiling of the blind and turn slowly while I turn my chair at the same time. The problem was we had to do this very slowly plus there was also a stool and a bag of gear in the blind. So picture this, Don B would turn the blind about 30° then stop, then I would turn as far as I could go, then Don B would move the stuff and then the process would start over again until we had moved 180°. Plus we had to do this so the deer would not notice. When we got turned around there was about a dozen mule deer in the field and 4 elk that we could see.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I was looking at elk. And there was one mule deer buck that was about the size of the whitetail I shot this year with my crossbow. I had him in my scope at 175 yards. Broadside. For a long time. But I was there for something bigger. This was of course the first day. And I don't think I would have even shot him the last day. It was awesome. I could not believe there was elk in front of me. The spooky elk didn't even budge when we did our maneuver. We could not believe it. The elk were 270 yards away. I could not believe how big they were. This is the first time I have ever seen one in the wild.

 We tried to get a good picture through my rifle scope but the attempt was futile. We giggled in the blind about that. Good stuff. I also told Don B that I named the pivot maneuver that we pulled off, "A Glorious Shit Show Pivot." I wish someone could have seen what we did. We could not believe what we did and what was in front of us. I was so glad that we were able to do it though. The sight in front of me was worth the trip.

The deer and elk fed in the field and grazed aimlessly but never got any closer. Not that we needed them to get closer but they were all to the east and never moved closer. From our vantage point we could only see that one mule deer buck. There had to of been another buck somewhere with all of the skinheads around.

Pretty soon it was after sunset and there was still no more deer coming into the field. But the ones that were there were still there. I was watching in awe. Soon enough it was 4:45 PM and legal shooting time was over. About then we heard the pickup start about a half-mile away and Enslow made his way towards us. It was crazy. Some of the deer ran right away but the elk did not move. They must've been hungry or knew they were safe. Even when Enslow got to us there were still three elk inside of 300 yards just grazing away. What the heck. We tried to be quiet but that is almost impossible with getting me and all of the gear into the pickup. We decided to take down the pop-up blind to reposition it the next day. So that even made more noise. I got loaded into the pickup and the elk were still there. On the way out of the field Enslow told us there were 32 mule deer in the field plus another eight outside of the field. Plus a real decent whitetail buck. The other mule deer were over the hill to the east and the other deer were to the west down in the draw behind us. Enslow was glassing, sitting about three quarters of a mile away on a vantage point to the northwest where he could see everything that was going on. He also said there was seven elk total including two spikes. We were pumped. On cloud nine I was.

We told Enslow about the "Glorious Shit Show Pivot" and he could not believe it. We're all pumped and excited for the next couple days. Put it didn't matter what happened in the future because my trip was already worth it, a couple times.

We dropped off Enslow at his pickup and we made our way back to the cabin. Boy does it get dark out there. It is entertaining when it is pitch black going through the winding roads dodging deer on the highway and gravel. But soon enough we made our way with nary a collision. That night we had some deer sausage with fried potatoes and onions. It did not suck.

The one thing that did suck about the trip was the 4:15 PM sunset. Going into the eastern side of the Mountain Time Zone really screwed with my internal clock. By 9 PM every night I was ready to go to bed. Then I would wake up at 2:30 AM and not fall back to sleep. I even tried alcohol the second and third night and that didn't even help. That is saying something.

Enslow decided to go to the Long X Saloon that night. He texted me, it was a dumpster fire. I figured that that meant something bad happened. But there was really a dumpster fire. What the heck. He then replied, "Only in Grassy!" Ha ha. Neat.

Tuesday when the sun came up I could hear the wind gusting over the chimney. My bed was right next to the fireplace. The wind was out of the southeast so we decided to move farther to the east on top of the knob in the field. We would set up next to some bushes along the fence line. I got in the chair again around noon, we had some lunch and I tilted back before we took off for that afternoon hunt.

We met Enslow at the same spot and we told him our plan. He agreed and we made our way through the oat field. When we got to the top of the knob the view was out of this world. In every direction we were surrounded by buttes with the layers of beauty and the greenery that filled the voids. We quickly popped up the blind and Don B got my rifle mount and rifle attached to my chair. They threw the blind over top of me and we got settled in for the afternoon hunt. Enslow grabbed my phone as he was taking pictures with it he said, "Look at this place. Just look around." I agreed. It was the perfect setting. After he was done snapping some pics he hopped in my pickup and headed out to get to his vantage point after a little drive about.

The anticipation was high again. Especially after the day before with all of the game that came in to the field. We were just about right on top looking down on the area where the elk came in the first day. The mule deer came in just to the west of us where we were sitting this time. Everything was perfect. I was anticipating the field to come alive again around 3:30 PM. But there was nothing at that time. Except for pheasants. Holy shinto are there pheasants out there. At about 4 PM I looked to my left which is to the south and I saw a doe with twins. They were whitetail. She looked at us quizzically but we didn't seem to bother her too much. She didn't cross the fence, she made her way to the east down the draw into some trees. The twins followed and they disappeared. A little while later they did cross the fence and jumped into the field. A couple other whitetail skinheads also joined them. I just knew something else was going to follow them but nothing ever did.

Right when it was about time to start getting ready to pack up, the hills came alive with the sounds of coyotes. In every direction it was absolutely nuts. There were a few that probably were within a couple hundred yards. I can remember the view and the sound right now. It was impressive to say the least. Soon enough we could see Enslow in my pickup making his way up the field to us. He asked us what we saw and we told him. He said he didn't see much either from his vantage point. But when he was driving around before he got parked in his spot where he oversees the field, he saw quite a few muley bucks. He sent us some of the pics of them. They did not suck. It didn't matter. It was a successful night.

Soon enough we were all packed up and in the pickup making our way out of the field and back to his pickup. When we got east of 85 we had a nice whitetail buck run across the front of the vehicle. We had seen him the day before also. This night when we got back to the cabin we had some fried pork chops and parmesan noodles. That hit the spot. I even indulged in some Morgan 7's. I needed to change up my luck. It couldn't hurt.

To say it is entertaining in a blind with Don B for any amount of time is an understatement. The things I have learned from him while hunting would impress some and shock others. Ha ha. It's all good. Good grief. Plus there is always candy when you are with him. The only time I ever eat candy is while hunting with Don B. It usually has something to do with black licorice and chocolate. He is a candy fiend. If it's in a wrapper he will eat it. Good & Plenty's were on the menu the first two days of the hunt.

When the sun came up on Wednesday, the last day of my hunt the wind was the same. But it seemed to be just in a little bit more out of the southeast with an overcast sky. The wind was a little discouraging but when we looked outside and saw deer out the cabin window, that made me feel better. Every day we would see deer from the cabin. This day there were two muley bucks and I believe three skinheads across the ravine. We would also see whitetail. This place is something else.

Right before lunch Kelly, one of the owners stopped by the cabin to check on how we were doing. He and his wife Rachel have run the cabins for quite a few years. He asked how the hunt was going and we told him. I could tell right away that he was good people. He told us some hunting stories and asked us where we were hunting. He knew that landowner and said that was a good area. He then told us about the mountain lion that he killed that was first spotted by his mother on the cover of the hot tub. The same hot tub where mom had been relaxing the last couple days. Hee hee. Evidently this cat was beaten up by another lion and was emaciated. It was looking for a safe, warm spot to lick its wounds. His mom told him about the cat and he shot it not far from the cabin. The cat had nothing in the stomach when the biologist looked at it and it weighed 138 pounds. That is a big cat. I wonder how big the cat was that beat it up? Geesh. He told me that I should apply for unit 4A next time. That is the unit on the east side of Highway 85 where the cabins and their ranch is located. I might just take him up on that offer.

After lunch I went out to "Inspiration Point" and took in the view one last time. I knew I wouldn't have time to do it Thursday morning, the day we left. I just couldn't get over everything that you could see. I spotted one muley way off in the distance. The wind had a bite to it this day. I wish it didn't because I could have stayed out there all day. But I went back to the cabin and tilted before the afternoon hunt.

The wind was out of the same direction but it was a little bit stronger. We thought it was going to suck sitting on top of the hill but after we crossed the six cattle guards and seven culverts the wind had died down when we got to the bottom. The weather was going to be perfect. We met Enslow again and he hopped in the pickup as we made our way into the field. We popped up the blind in the same spot we had the night before. The anticipation was high as usual. 

This night there was no Good & Plenty's, Don B decided to switch it up with some different candy for some luck. This night it was some type of taffy. It was not new. I would guess a decade old. But it was tasty. The switched up the candy did not bring any luck though. Nothing came into the field that night. But it didn't matter. Everything about this hunt was awesome. There was no suckage.

During the day it was decided that we would go to the bar afterwards no matter what happened, to pick up some shitty ass frozen pizza for supper. It was a good thing we did. On the way to the Long X Saloon in Grassy Butte I got a text from Spiek asking me if we wanted to meet up at his cabin or somewhere. I told him where we were headed and he said they would be there shortly. Spiek and Kron, friends of ours from back home, were also hunting in 4C and were staying not too far away at the Paradise Ridge Resort.

When we pulled up to the Long X, I noticed right away that there was one big step to get into the saloon. So we looked around for a makeshift ramp but there was none to be found. All of my ramps were back at the cabin. So we opened the door and Enslow said he could lift the front end up and that Don B could push me through. Well I could tell right away this wasn't going to work out so well for the home team. But a friendly patron inside came over and helped Enslow lift the front end up into the bar. Everybody inside was nice. It was good times. We were only going to stay for a couple. Don B held true to his word, but me not so much. The Morgan was flowing like the wines of Capistrano. We were there for only an hour and a half but there always seemed to be two cocktails on my tray. That problem doesn't suck.

It wasn't long after I sucked down my first Morgan 7 the boys from back home walked through the door. We had a grand time. They come up to hunt 4C every year. Sometimes they make two trips. They go earlier for bow season and they go during rifle season even if they do not get a rifle tag. I can see why they keep coming back.

The boys from back home and some of the bar patrons told me I should stay longer to fill my tag. People I didn't even know were giving me places to hunt on private land. That is awesome. But I knew I had to go home. My body just cannot take that many days in a row of abuse. Even I catch on, sometimes. I thanked everybody for the information and the opportunities to stay and hunt as I tried to make my way out of the bar. I was not sober. But I could still drive my wheelchair good enough to go backwards out the front door. Thankfully we had some help getting lifted down the step.

The Long X was a good time. I was glad we stopped. Everybody decided to leave at the same time. Enslow took off to make supper for his landowner buddy. He actually came back up town to try to climb the pterodactyl but he had no luck. The bar was shut down because it was after 10 PM by the governor's order. On the way back to the cabin when we got east of 85 we saw that same whitetail buck. This time he was laying right on the shoulder of the gravel road. He didn't budge. Must've been worn out.

By the way the pizza wasn't bad at all. It was Badlands Pizza and it did not suck. We got two different kinds of pizza and made them back at the cabin. In fact my mouth is still burnt from the first couple bites as I am typing this. Who would've ever thought that a bite of 400° molten cheesy pizza would burn your mouth? Good grief. One will never learn.

Yet again I woke up early. I think it was around 2:30 AM. Dang time change stuff. Around 7 AM we all started getting everything ready to head out. Don B pretty much had the back of the pickup filled up and I got in the chair. There wasn't much left except for the ramps. Enslow came and helped with that before we took off. We thanked Enslow for everything that he did for us. It was a blast. This trip could not have happened without his help. I think it was just a matter of time before I would've pulled the trigger. I could have in fact pulled the trigger that first night but I think I would have regretted that.

We took off early from the cabin because there was some rain moving in and it was supposed to turn to freezing rain. We got ahead of the front but we drove through some sprinkles north of Bellfield and some sprinkles east of there on the interstate. We stopped in Richardton so I could tilt back. Don B got some more candy for the ride home. A candy bar named Bueno. It didn't suck. The fog rolled in just west of New Salem. It was like pea soup for a while. It got real thick when we drove through Mandan. The fog lifted a little bit but could still not see farther than a half mile for quite a ways. I had to stop again in Steele to tilt back again. It felt good. Ten minutes later we were on the road again. I believe we got to Enderlin to drop off Don B a little after 2 PM. We both thanked him for everything he did for us. In the beginning of this trip I was going to do it with just mom and me. I am very glad that Don B offered to come along. I don't think it would have been possible without him. Thank you Don B. I am indebted. I believe I was home and in bed around 2:45 PM. I still am in bed as it is Saturday as I type this.

I can't thank everyone enough who made this trip successful. Especially mom. She kind of got wrangled into this whole thing. She wasn't too keen on the idea when I told her about it. But I think she did have fun. I know she really enjoyed the hot tub and the not driving. She would have not liked driving through some of the stuff we did. Especially driving at night, dodging deer left and right.

Don B, you are the best. You were my right-hand man throughout the whole trip. Thanks.

Enslow, not many would have done what you did for me. You got me on land, you took off work and you were there through it all. Thanks.

I truly hope I can get back there. It was the best trip I have ever been on. Like I have said before, if I do go back I may never come back here.

Thanks for reading, Clint.