Bow Season post #3

In the event of opening day of bow season being Saturday I will tell you about the first deer I shot. I was about eight years old. I went to my uncles house with my dad that night. The three of us sat in my uncles shack. I remember wearing tennis shoes because I knew we would be in the shack with the heater if I got cold. We went out about four o'clock. By the time six rolled around there were deer in the food plot. My dad handed me my tiny camouflage Bear bow with an arrow nocked. I pulled back the bow and thawk! The deer took off running. I wasn't sure if I had a good shot yet or not. Now is when the excitement and adrenaline builds up. My dad and my uncle high fived me and told me good job because they saw good shot placement. We sat in the shack for another hour. My dad always makes us stay for at least 20 minutes after we shoot a deer unless we can see it fall and know that its dead. This is because if it doesn't die right away you can spook it and run it further before it dies, then it may not be on your property and depending on how well your neighbors like you is whether you can get it or not.

 We went down and looked at the ground where the deer was when I shot. We found blood so we know that I hit the deer. Dad found my  arrow, it passed all the way through. Determined by the blood on the arrow dad said I might have been a little far back. So we went up to the house and gave it more time. After a few hours we came back out and began tracking. (I think this is the best part!) We got about 500 yards and heard a deer jump up. So we waited a few minutes and keep walking. Soon we found a bed of blood and from that we determined that it was the deer I shot that we heard running. So we went back to the house got in the truck and went to McDonald's for dinner. After a few more hours we came back out at this point and started where we left off at the first bed. We made it about another 500 yards and jumped the doe I shot again. So once again we went back to the house. 

At this point in time I was upset and ready to quit. I thought we were never going to find it what was the point in continuing. I was just going to quit and never shoot a deer again. By now it was midnight. We went out for the last time if we jumped it again we were done for the night and we would come look the next day. We found a healthy blood trail. We made it to  a thick patch of picker bushes. Of course she had to go through it. So my dad and uncle sent me crawling on my hands and knees through the center to follow the blood. By this point I had pickers stuck all over me. But there was one specific picker that I remember. One had gone into the bottom of my shoe, and came through the shoe and into my foot. When I came out I had a strong blood trail and I wasn't giving up. We crossed the road into the neighbors property. Meanwhile I am tracking this deer with a picker in my foot my uncle walked the road back to his house to get the truck because his back was bothering him. Finally my dad shined his light a ways out in front of us and he caught the reflection off the eye of the deer laying about 20 yards in front of us. We tagged it and gutted it right there, so we didn't have to carry the extra weight. When dad was gutting it he seen that my arrow had went through both lungs, the heart, and skipped off the stomach. So I had a really good shot and the deer should never have went that far. 

Now it wasn't the biggest deer, but it was my first deer so of course I am still proud of it. 

Good luck to all of those going out on Saturday! 

See Ya Later Alligator Post #2

About five years ago I remember my dad, grandpa, and brother packing for Florida. I wanted to go too but my mom wouldn't let me. They were going gator hunting and my mom was afraid they would use me for bait. Well that year they all got one. My dad a 11 foot gator, my brother a six footer, and my grandpa an eight footer. Following this we knew of course they would come home.  I can remember shaping the mold to make an insert to mount the gator in a sand pile in the back yard.

Three years  later I finally whined enough to make them take me. My dad, his friend Josh and I were going to Florida! My mom was picking me up from officer camp the day we were going to leave. When I had gotten home my mom told me she didn't think we were going to go. My grandpa was in the hospital and Josh's wife was in the hospital for labor pains. Well I of severely upset. What kid wouldn't be if someone cancelled their vacation? A few hours later my grandpa called and told us to go he would be there when we got back. Josh brought his wife home with false labor pains. We finally decided to leave about 3 o'clock in the morning. It was an awful ride down there. The boys drove the whole way only stopping a few times to change drivers. I, on the other hand, slept the entire way down.

The next afternoon when we reached Winter Haven and checked into the hotel the guys both raced for the shower. They had worked all day the day before and never changed or showered. We went to bed and when we got up in the morning we went to the local Walmart to get our trapping agent licenses. Then we played the waiting game. Our guide was a nuisance hunter. This means that if someone had a problem with one in their yard, on a golf course or even in the middle of the highway a nuisance trapper is who comes to get the alligator.

There was a lot of gators called in but the weather never cooperated good enough for us to get one. However we did get one on a fishing pole with a treble hook on the first day. It was only four foot but its a start.

 On the last day we had to hunt we got a call about a gator that ate someones puppy. There was also reports of a missing goat and peafowl. When we got there the owners of the house came out and talked to us and let us know the daily activity of the gator. We waited and finally Pork Chop ( the guide) called us over to the other side of the yard. There was a big gator laying in the weeds next to the bank. I wasn't tall enough to see over the edge and be able to shoot. So my dad went to the other side and walked right up on top of it. Thawk! Dad had penetrated the side of the gator. Now Josh and I ran over. Josh shot the gator again to assure we had multiple attachments to the gator. Dad then took my bow and shot the gator once again. Well, tried too. The first shot he took the string was wrapped around his finger and he caught the arrow in mid air. (My dad is right handed where as I am left handed.) He re-nocked the arrow and shot again this time hitting the gator. I then was handed the bang stick and had to jump in the water with the gator. I took the bang stick and hit the gator in the top of the head to kill it. when the stick makes contact and there is force behind it, it will set off the 220 bullet in the bottom of the stick. Just like shooting a gun! We had finally gotten a gator!

This past year my dad and his friend Kirt and I rerturned.
This year we got eight alligators in one night.

Only 24 Days Until Open Season Post #1

It all started October 14, 1998, while getting things together to prepare for a hunting trip. My mother was in labor, however my dad was busy shooting the goose off our pond. Being born into a family of hunting, it was obviously planned that I would hunt something at some point. Growing up I was always outside doing something with my dad to get ready for the next season. 

The first time I remember going deer hunting was when I was about 3 or 4. My dad bundled me up and took me to the tree stand. He made sure I climbed first so if I were to slip or fall he would be able to catch me. Once in the tree he had a platform to the side of his stand he would sit me on and hook me to a harness so I couldn't fall. From that day forward I knew I wanted to hunt until I couldn't do it anymore. Since then I have killed deer, turkeys, squirrels, waterfowl, game birds, and even alligators. 

I can remember my first turkey hunt with my mom. It was off to an awful start. I had a bloody nose and had to use the shirt I was wearing to stop it, which happened to be one of my dads shadow grass camouflage shirts. (Sorry dad.) Then out of no where this tom came walking out just in front of the tent we were hunting in and I happened to be looking down not paying attention, my mom shot and threw the blind over my head and went running to grab the turkey as it flopped on the ground. When I asked later why she did this her answer was, "I didn't want it to fall in the pond."

Having a taxidermy business in the family has spurred random hunts and experiences that most people would never dream of. My grandpa has made many friends across the US that own ranches or know good guide services. Knowing how to mount your own things leads to having to have your own samples to practice on to get things right before doing a customer's.

I chose hunting as the topic of my blog because of this simply. Hunting is what brings my family together. Hunting is something I really enjoy doing and getting other young people into. If we don't hunt and control some species other will become endangered. If you eat what you kill in the wild you know there is not all of the antibiotics and chemicals that get put into the meat from the store.