Possum Hollow is having a 30 Target 3-D Archery Shoot on December 16, 23 and 30. Cost is 10.00. kitchen open for the events. It is at Possum Hollow Sportsmens Club 352 Possum Hollow Road, Wampum, Pa. 16157. www.ph-sc.com or email us at thepossumhollow@gmail.com. Hope to see you there.

Straight Shot
with frank addington, jr.

Archery’s loss Heaven’s gain… Dick Lattimer passes

I got sad news this evening via email from my friend Dick Mauch. It seems that we have lost another member of our archery family with the passing of Dick Lattimer around 3AM on the morning of Tuesday, September 6, 2011. Dick was a great man and did so much for the sport of archery. Most everyone knows how close Dick was to the late Fred Bear, whom he worked for over 20 years. Although he handled advertising and PR for Bear, he and Fred seemed to me to have a close knit bond like a father-son relationship. He helped usher in the boom in archery the sport had in the 1970’s by promoting the Bear campaign, “Become a two season hunter.” When you saw Fred at a public event in the 1970’s until his passing, Dick was usually at his side camera and notepad in hand.

In addition to a career at Bear, Dick was also heavily involved in AMO, and authored at least four books, one on space, one on Jesus, and the two books, “I remember Papa Bear” and “Hunt with Fred Bear.” He was also involved with the Archery Hall of Fame and other archery related organizations. Although I never met her, his emails to me often mentioned his wife Alice, who survives Dick. We had a running joke because I often did summer shows in Florida, and Dick & his wife would be in Indiana for the summer and then in the winter when I did the Indiana show Dick and Alice would be back in Florida. I would often tease Dick for avoiding me and my show. It became a running joke. Dick had a great sense of humor.

In the coming days I am sure there will much written about this fine man. He is an archery Hall of Fame member and did so much for our sport. I am reminded of the story about the great western actor Ben Johnson. Johnson won an Oscar for his role in “The Last Picture Show” before John Wayne won his Oscar for True Grit. Yet even while Johnson had an Oscar, and at the time Duke did not, Johnson often had roles that had him playing John Wayne’s sidekick. One reporter once asked if that didn’t bother Johnson being such an accomplished actor and yet playing second fiddle to Wayne, Johnson is supposed to have replied, “Somebody has to hold the horses….” That was Dick Lattimer. He never seemed to mind helping shine the spotlight on Fred Bear, Bear Archery and the sport of archery. He was always behind the scenes, running a camera, video camera, or banging out words on a typewriter. In my book Dick was as good as they come.

I thanked him a just a few years ago for not running me off as a kid when I would bug Fred at shows. He could have and yet never did. As a matter of fact, I still have an envelope of photos Dick sent me of Fred and I at an event. He mailed them to me a few weeks after the show. During the event, my parent’s and I had attended a big fancy private party Fred hosted in Atlanta during the SHOT SHOW. We stayed till the end and walked down the hall as Fred and Dick left the party. I snapped a photo of the two of them walking down the hall together, the hero and his trusty sidekick. Now days I view them both as heroes. I see that it was Dick who often was behind the scenes helping steer the media and image of Fred and Bear Archery.

His eulogy “It was quiet in the forest” that he wrote and read at Fred’s service was one of the most beautiful eulogies I’d ever seen. Although I didn’t attend the service, he sent me a big packet of stuff shortly after Fred’s service which had a copy of that eulogy in it. He was thoughtful like that because he knew just how much I loved and admired Fred. Dick was often selfless and always thinking of others. Anyway, perhaps that’s a fitting end for our friend Dick, because once again the crow has come to tell us of the death of that giant Bear’s great and trusted friend. The Forest is again quiet.. So long Dick, we’ll miss you. Thanks again…….. our sad loss is now Heaven’s gain.

Frank Addington, Jr.

I took this fella around 4 pm on the 2nd in a CRP field. I call him “Tough Buck”. He was bedded down in some sage. I had the wind to my advantage as I made my way to him…slowly. When the wind died down…I stopped…When the wind picked up…I moved. I basically crab walked sideways making sure that I was in Shooting position just in case he heard me and got up. I got to 21 yards and stopped. I had one sage blocking his view of me. I must have ranged the bush he was beside 100 times. I got into shooters position and Yelped at him. I saw his Antlers move left then right…then he got up. I place my 20 yard pin on the right front armpit and fired. I couldn’t even hear the impact because of the wind. He bucked up once and dropped to his front knee’s. I figured this is it….Nope!. He gets back up and trots off away 40 yards and beds down under another sage. It felt like a great shot but I started to second guess myself. I waited about 20 minutes glassing him. I thought he had expired but he picked his head up again, I knew he was wounded bad. With the high heat I couldn’t back out and come back later, the meat would spoil plus i didn’t want him to suffer any more. I slowly made my way toward him again using the same tactics. I got into 20 yards of him again and got into my shooters position. I had a west to east wind and it was picking up. I yelped to him and nothing happened…I yelped again, His antlers moved…He was weak. I finally just yelled. He slowly gets up and I aimed for the same right front armpit again. Fired. I see the impact and the blood blow out. He turns around facing east to try to go uphill to get away from me.,he didn’t make it. He made it about 25 yards east and rolled. I could see all four hoofs up in the air in the sage. A couple of jerks of the hoofs and he expired. My son Arrived as well as a friend to help out. I gutted him out and we used a tarp to drag him out. After I got him skinned out I could see two puncture holes on the right side, the entrance, almost touching. I call him a “Tough Buck”.

He has 6 points on the left side but the eye guard is under the 1 inch rule. So I’m calling it 5.
The right is 4 plus 1 eye guard way over the 1 inch rule. That’s a 5.

Two entrance holes from 2 blade BH. Right side right above the armpit. I have him hanging head down with head already removed.

Straight Shot
with frank addington, jr.

The Aspirin Buster tour rolls on..

A variety of shows and events have made summer 2011 a busy time for me. I hope that you have enjoyed your summer. As we all anxiously await fall for obvious reasons, college football and hunting season, I took a few minutes to reflect on recent shows and events. Summer 2011 has had lots of great events…

July 15-17 I was in Alabama for the 28th Annual World Deer Expo in Birmingham, Alabama. This is one of the largest shows of it’s type in the country and I enjoyed a return visit to this venue. Bob Coker and I did some media Friday morning early, including a visit to a local Birmingham radio show. Here’s video footage of that media appearance, visit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dc1BMeUlFM We also did a TV news appearance while at this venue. Bob runs a great show and if you are an exhibitor this is a good opportunity to see lots of folks in one weekend, he gets a great crowd at this event.

July 28-30 I was in Coudersport, PA to perform shows at “Denton Hill” or ETAR, the Eastern Traditional Archery Rendezvous. This is dubbed one of the largest traditional archery events in the country and people come from far and wide to this event. Held at a ski resort, there are archery ranges, vendors in tents, practice ranges, the famous blanket sell where people lay items on blankets each evening to sale or trade, and lots of other fun activities. I don’t often do many “archery only” events like this so it was nice to spend a weekend among traditional archers. I met some new friends, saw some old friends, and had a great weekend. Saturday night’s 8PM show was my favorite. A little boy asked to shoot 20 arrows at once. Although I only had 12, I loaded all 12 on the string and popped a balloon with them. This was a new shot and the audience liked it so much that I have done it several times at shows since. The grand finale that night was a mustard seed. I had four spotters come up from the audience, put a black background on my net so we could all see the seed, and Jake Chapman tossed the seed into mid air. I hit it first shot! I dedicated the shot to my friend the late Rev. Stacy Groscup, who often performed at Denton Hills.

August 5-6 was the big DEERASSIC CLASSIC event in Cambridge, Ohio. This is the event that draws 15,000 plus people. I performed twice on Saturday, once in the afternoon and the grand finale was Saturday evening at 7:20PM, just before the big fifty fifty drawing took place and then country singer Josh Thompson performed. As I walked out on stage Saturday night, it looked like a sea of people. They video the show and broadcast it on the grounds with jumbotron screens. After hitting the three baby aspirin tablets, I announced to the crowd that we were gonna attempt the mustard seed shot. Conner put up a dark background on the net and did a practice throw. His next toss went up and again, FIRST SHOT! That was a great way to close the show. This is a one of a kind event that I often have heard called the “Woodstock of hunting.”

August 20-21 I joined my friend Bud at the Wheeling, West Virginia Cabela’s for a weekend of exhibitions there. I did two Saturday and two Sunday. This show was challenging weathewise, Saturday we had extreme heat and sunshine and then Sunday had high winds. We moved the show under the main entrance and had some great audiences over the four performances. I hit the mustard seed at every show, and this is getting to be a popular shot. I did two radio interviews, Chris Lawrence mentioned the show being at Cabelas on his statewide “WV Outdoors” show, and a TV news station captured the mustard seed shot on camera while I was in town. Cabela’s fed me well and I had a great time at this event. This is their third largest footprint in all the Cabela’s, at 175,000′ ft. They also have a million ‘ ft. distribution center nearby so Cabela’s has had a big impact on the economy in Wheeling, WV.

August 27-28 I will be performing at Festival in the Pines in Eau Claire, WI. I have performed in Eau Claire many times at the Northern Wisconsin Deer Classic but have not performed in Eau Claire in the summer. I am looking forward to this event. After that I head back to Nebraska for more shows and then on to other places for appearances through November. I’ll take December off to be home for the holidays before the January season kicks off another year of shows. So it goes in the life of a traveling archery showman. We are currently working on the Winter 2012 schedule and will try and post some dates/locations soon. I am looking forward to working with the Renfro family again in Indianapolis in 2012, they have a great show and I always enjoy performing there.

I’ve now added the 12 arrow shot and the mustard seed shot to our programs in most places. So far the audiences love the new shots. They are both challenging but then again so is a baby aspirin from behind the back, right? That’s the latest on the “HAVE BOW WILL TRAVEL” tour. Visit www.frankaddingtonjr.com for more information on my show. You can video footage on page 2 of the website.

Seeing is believing, see you at the show!

Until next time, Adios and God Bless.

Shoot Straight,
Frank Addington, Jr.
The Aspirinbuster

Photo is on stage at the 2011 DEERASSIC CLASSIC event.

IT’S ALL ABOUT THE LITTLE THINGS

by Ted Nugent

My eyes nearly bulged out of my hairy little head. Dear Lord in heaven, there were beautiful big game animals seemingly everywhere. A quartet of stunning spotted axis stags stood a hundred yards yonder, standing there looking at us. Six or seven darn nice whitetails were just beyond them, casually filtering in and out of the bushy scrub. We hadn’t driven a hundred yards when a gorgeous white horned sika stag stuck his head out of a cedar thicket twenty yards off the trail. In a short thirty minute drive, I had seen more amazing big game animals than I would normally see in an entire season on average when I first started hunting. And many of these critters seemed to be so relaxed, I was aghast that it couldn’t possibly be for real.

For a guy who started bowhunting back in the 1950s, I struggled to process the information that had just smacked me between the frontal lobes. It was one of my first adventures in the wilds of the amazing Texas’ Hill Country, and I was about to implode with excitement as I was being led to my afternoon treestand.

The vast open range of this private hunting ranch was loaded with more than twenty five species of indigenous and exotic big game animals, and they were apparently in abundant numbers. Only a few bowhunters had ever hunted this place, and I was invited to sample their hunting to offer my advice on how to set it up for optimal bowhunting.

The pickup chugged up a bumpy, rocky two track road and pulled to a halt where an endless ridge of thick cedars broke off into a desert flat of prickly pear cactus and barren rocky ground. My guide pointed to a lone mesquite tree with a metal tripod wedged into the branches, and told me this was the hot spot for aoudad rams, axis deer, sika, fallow and whitetail galore. He said the feeder was to the north a short ways and would go off around sunset and I should be covered up with critters.

I am telling you, I was more excited than I think I had ever been. I said thank you and hustled over to the tripod as my guide motored off.

When I got to the stand, I became somewhat concerned, for the old tripod was nearly rusted out, and I was actually scared as I climbed aboard the squeaky, swaying, dangerously unstable stand. With no tow rope, I clung to my bow as every step created all kinds of racket, and it got even worse when I settled into the cracked, chipped noisy seat.

I didn’t feel comfortable at all and was actually spooked that I wouldn’t be able to remain steady when attempting to draw back my bow. But I needn’t had worried, for I was completely skylighted eight feet off the ground, with the sun blazing on my face, making my whole body glow against the shiny blue sky. No way would any animal not see me up here.

Next thing I immediately noticed was that the steady breeze was blowing straight for the feeder, which was not a short ways away, but rather a good forty five yards away. Under the feeder was a deep depression, void of any vegetation within fifteen yards.

I furrowed my brow, squinted my sunburned eyeballs and wondered how in the hell anyone with the most minimal basic of hunting knowledge 101 could possibly think this set up could work.

I shifted my weight best that I could to minimize the squeaking, creaking, noisy old stand, nocked an arrow and hoped for the best.

Many animals were seen coming and going in all directions nonstop, but the feeder never went off, and nothing came anywhere near my strange anti-ambush spot. Right around sunset I was shocked to see my guide driving up in his noisy pickup, right at the magic bewitching hour that all hunters wait for and put in the hours for. I walked over to the feeder to discover that it was empty, and the battery was dead, and it appeared it hadn’t thrown any corn in a long, long time.

To say I was perplexed is a gross understatement. Making matters much worse, when I asked my guide how it was that the feeder wasn’t working and was much too far away for a decent bowshot, that my stand was unsafe and noisy as all hell, that the sun made me glow with no background cover at all and that the wind was the worst possible for this stand location, that his truck’s muffler announced to the world where we had gone, and that his Aqua Velva aftershave was like an olfactory warning alarm going off, he got his panties in a wad and scoffed me off like I didn’t know what I was talking about. How dare a long haired Yankee bowhunter try to tell a real honest to God Texas ranching cowboy how to kill critters on his grounds?

Yikes! My view of Texas took a very ugly turn for the worse that frightful day, I’m here to tell you.

So the lessons here my friends are mighty obvious. Stealth, safety, silence, wind, sun, background cover, maximum advantage bow shot distance to anticipated animal activity, feeders that are full and operational, decent ground vegetation so the animals have confidence to show up and move about, scent control by all players, don’t quit hunting until all shooting light or legal shooting light is over.

Big fun, happy and successful hunts, gratifying time afield and backstraps come to those who pay attention to the plethora of little details. I assure you, the critters are paying attention to every little detail, and if they pay more attention than we do, they win.  I like it when I win better, so I leave nothing to chance. Even when we do everything perfect to the best of our ability, that mystical sixth sense of the beast can turn the tables on the best of us. Think hard, think like a predator, think like an animal, learn your lessons well, and eventually backstraps will be yours. Details, details, details. Cover them all and hunt like you mean it. Me, I’m addicted to backstraps baby. I hunt to win. I hunt to kill.

MAKE IT THE BEST HUNTING SEASON OF YOUR LIFE – IT IS A CHOICE

By Ted Nugent

I know how we all scramble to take care of business and work hard providing for our families, hustling for optimal quality of life and the never ending American Dream of being the best, most productive that we can be. Salute to the producers so gungho dedicated to be in the asset column of America. Godbless you all. You truly are my BloodBrothers who make this country the greatest in the world. Ya all ROCK!

Being that as it may, there may be no better time than right now in America today that we desperately need to cleanse our souls and recharge our batteries while we celebrate our healing through nature hunting lifestyle.

Sometimes we wrap up a maniacal schedule to finish a project or job at hand, hauling ass to get to our sacred hunting grounds, scrambling to make it to our stand before the bewitching hour on Friday afternoon for a much needed, and dearly craved roustabout weekend of hunting. I know it and you know it.

I have found over a lifetime of outdoor cravings, that rushing around severely reduces the overall joy and pleasing effects of our outings. What I figured out many decades ago was that with but a deep breath and disciplined forethought of calendar preparation, advanced scheduling for extended hunting or fishing time is the only way to go.

I hear the harrumphing even now, but I assure you, smarter, more efficient choices can, and I am convinced, should be made. Undue stress ultimately will kill you. And it is all undue stress.

I have legions of buddies who figured out a long time ago that October and November and December are coming, and when they arrive is not the time to begin making plans. And remember who’s talking to you here; the ol MotorCity Madman that rocks like a rabid animal six nights a week, all summer long, writes books and articles for dozens of publications and websites, composes and records new killer American R&B&R&R masterpieces all year long, conducts literally 1000s of media interviews throughout the year, produces our Ted Nugent Spirit of the Wild TV and others, participates in dozens and dozens of charity activities year round, conducts speaking presentations around the country, takes care of business for a large family and dozens of employees, repairs fences, fills feeders, trains dogs, cuts firewood, changes oil, cuts the lawn, plants foodplots and trees, and even with this ridiculous workload, I still enjoy more than 250 days a year hunting, fishing and trapping. Then I hit the sack.

But mark my words; I do not scramble to get in my hunting time. I thoughtfully prioritize my daily, weekly, monthly, annual activities so that I am not beat to a pulp as I am climbing into my treestand.

First order of business is to always have all my hunting gear ready to rock. I shoot my bow every day anyway, so I am always in touch with its condition and preparedness. Same with my firearms. I shoot my main guns so often that I don’t have to set aside time to sight them in. I sight them in throughout the year.

My various boots, camo clothes, survival backpack, vidcam supplies and all possibly assorted gear is maintained in total readiness so time is not wasted regrouping for an outing. I admit that the smartest move of my life was when I determined at a very young age that I would live on killer hunting grounds. No extended travel for this ol WhackMaster to get to the hunt. On both my Texas and Michigan grounds I live smack dab in the epicenter of dream game habitat, so my greatest joy in life is that I am hunting as soon as I close the door behind me.

And I am not the only one who figured this out. Many of my farming and ranching hunting buddies performed such basic decisions and enjoy the same ultimate joys of homeground hunting fun. It can be done, and it is never too late in life to choose to do so. Huge change and a huge decision? Sure. Huge fun is always better than small fun. Think huge.

Little decisions can go a long way in upgrading your quality hunting time. Vacation time is always a compromise with family desires, but nothing spells happiness like vacation during the rut. Timing is everything.

And here’s the defining power move for my quality of life; I learned a long time ago the power of the word “NO”. If I were to accept even a tiny fraction of the offers to do thing and go places, my hunting time would be severely reduced. Unless it is for a charity event or something monumental, I simply decline to go places and do things instead of staying home and hunting. That’s how you do that.

The older we get, the more focused we should get. I have and it sure brings a great smile to my face, a full freezer of straps, and a calm, fulfilling sense of ease to my overall life. It is this hunting happiness that keeps my spirit fortified and better prepares me for my next high energy, ferocious rock-n-roll assault. I work hard, and I hunt hard, and both maximize the enjoyment and productivity of the other.

Try it. I think you will agree with me.

– Ted Nugent

???Team Tagle’s Turkey Hunt: no blind, MO Public Land

Team Tagle (father-son) hit the woods early.  ?We prepared a strategy for the hunt and prepared for potential foul weather. Well, when we got to the public land, I realized I did not pack my waterproof boots nor jacket. The walk was entertaining as we had to walk a tight edge due to the rising water from all the rain we’ve had.  Yes, my feet were soaked.  After we reached, no sooner after I set my last decoy (they are named “Jose & Josefina” – smile), we saw a gobbler come off of his roost.  It was insane.., just gotten set up!!  I was not even ready with my bow and arrow set-up, nor my release. Thank goodness he was 500 yards away.  THEN, I realized I left back in the truck my binos, slate and mouth calls, masks.., I was just a hot mess. I had to count on my “natural” calling skills (if any) and began using my mouth to call that gobbler in.  Then, of course we had to be right under the 10% precipitation, it started to rain pretty good, but we hung in there.  My camera man (my son) was prepared for the inclement weather.  Boy did that gobbler repond to my calls and the decoys.  He headed toward us on a B line.., hammering away.  I was feeling my heart beat all over my body, constantly telling my partner not to make the sligthest movement.  He was putting on a show.., afterall, he was the star of this whole thing.  My son did a great job running the camera and captured some great footage.  The gobbler circled around us, but we did not count on his strutting staging area…, I had no cover as to be able to draw my bow.  15 yards away, easy shot (if I am able to pull it off), heart skippin many a beats. It was now or never, made my move, got busted and he took off toward the woods.  I was able to make a few cutting calls, and he stopped at the opposite side 20 yards away. He was still responding, curious, and began strutting again.  When he got completely behind the view of a large tree, I repositioned myself to take a shot when needed.  My son did the same thing.   I took advantage of the cover and drew my bow, holding it as long as I could.  At this point, it was all a gamble, for we did not know what side of the tree he’d come out, nor WHEN.  As the luck I’d be having, he peeked past the tree excatly when I was letting down. HUNT OVER.  This time, he was not sticking around.  To top it off, our camera fouled up on us…., again.

Despite all the challenges we had, I’d do it all over again!  Here’s why:  my son finally learned about the “rush” (wait ’till he experiences buck fever).  He learned why it’s called hunting.  He learned about the turkey’s defense mechanism – sight.  He learned how difficult it is to walk away with a slam dunk.  I learned that throughout the whole ordeal, I could not stop thinking, “I am with my son, what an honor!!”. We have a lot to learn from each other, especially how to film our hunts.   Lastly, he learned how blessed we are after the tornado hit close to home.., the turkey encounter was just a bonus.  Our prayers to all those affected by the tornado and to all our men and women who make it possible for me to have moments like this one.  Adios!!

I have found this armguard has many uses outside of just archery.  I was able to put a tackle box in the pocket and used 2 wine bottle corks by attaching to the call strap and it worked great for fishing.

I bought it from Neet (item N-AGP-1) and it can be found in the new 2011 catalog.

http://www.neet.com/contact.html

My daughter has always been interested in my hunting and fishing trips. Several years ago, I carried her out to the field to let her shoot the old Ithaca 20 gauge shotgun I grew up with to get her used to handling it so she could go on a dove hunt with my dad, my son, and I. The kick did not bother her, but she hated the BANG. She wanted no part of gun hunting.
Over the last few years, she has wanted to go bow hunting with me, and she has helped me when I was practicing several times. We purchased another bow for my son this Christmas, since he had outgrown the youth bow we had for him. Naturally, it became a hand down to Julianne. I had to adjust the draw length and draw weight for her, but at the time, she still could not pull the bow back. I told her to keep practicing pulling it back and by spring when the red horse sucker fish make their annual run, she could go bow fishing with me.
Bow fishing in itself is a very unique style. It is set up with a line attached to a heavy solid core arrow, tipped with a barbed point. When aiming, the saying goes “aim low”, because the refraction of the light through the water makes the fish appear at a higher angle. Think of looking at a straw in a glass of water. The straw is not really bent, but it looks that way through the glass. Also, unlike bow hunting, where you are trying to get a clean kill by hitting the vitals, bow fishing just requires you to hit the fish. Your object is to get the fish on the arrow and then bring it in.
Well, over the first few months of this year, Julianne pulled and pulled and pulled. Finally one night, she called me and my wife into the living room. “Watch! I can pull it back now!” Her excitement caused my son to roll his eyes!
Just as they do every year, the sucker fish made their spawn in late March, and as I had promised, the first night I saw they were running I carried Julianne out to the creek banks. For a period of a week, and easily over a hundred attempts, and through several bow fishing arrows (the rocky bottom of the creek is not that great on the fish points) Julianne and I attempted to get her first take with a bow. We went at night using a light, went during the day using polarized glasses, I honestly believe she probably went in her dreams while sleeping. Occasionally she would take a break, and my son and I would get a few fish, then she would be at it again.
My regular job allows me to work four days each week, and during the sucker run, my weekday off was on a Friday. I usually carry the kids to school on my day off, so I made my usual track. After dropping my son off at high school, we still had an hour before Julianne was due at middle school. I looked over at her and asked, “Wanna try one shot?”
She answered, but did not need to. We ran out to the creek. She strapped on her release while I was driving. “Julianne, do you know what the saying is for snipers?”
“No, daddy.”
“One shot, one kill. They cannot afford to shoot twice because the second shot will give away their cover. We’ve only got time for one shot this morning, and there is no guarantee the fish will be here this afternoon.”
We walked down to the bank and spotted several fish. They were a little too far, so I motioned for her to follow me upstream a few yards. There we spotted one about ten feet out. I had Julianne pull back her bow. “Now?” she asked. I whispered to her to take the shot when she was ready. And ‘twang’, ‘splash’. She backed up a few feet.
“You got one!” She had not even noticed. We both grabbed the line, and pulled it up on the shore.
Her persistence had paid off, and now there is another kid hooked to the outdoors.

Bill Howard’s columns can be read at www.billhowardoutdoors.com

North Carolina offers youth days for hunting some species each season. It gives the youth a chance to go out and have an adult guide them through a hunt, allowing only the child to take a shot. April 2 is youth day for turkey. Bearing that in mind, I feel obligated to share a story a new friend, Chase Shepherd shared with me.

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I closed my eyes while my dad smeared camouflage face paint on my forehead. “Just hold still. We’re almost done,” he whispered. I was ready for the hunt to begin. I loaded my gun, strapped on the gun rest, and put on my hat. “Got everything?” Dad whispered.
“Yeah,” I replied, while I too, was in a whisper.
We started walking back to the area my dad picked to hunt. “Today’s the day you’re killin’ a turkey,” Dad whispered.
“I hope so” I whispered back.
My dad stopped about five minutes later and whispered, “Go sit at that tree, I’m gonna’ set up the decoys.”
“Okay,” I replied.
???? I did my best walking over, trying not to make any noise. I finally stopped at the tree and watched my dad set up the last decoy. It was still dark out so we had enough time to sit down and get comfortable.
Dad sat down first, and then I sat down in between his legs. He set his gun up against the tree and then instructed me to practice aiming on the decoys.
?? The sun just started to rise, and all I heard was gobbling. It was crazy! Then my dad started calling. He did some average hen calls, and that’s when he whispered, “Don’t move!” My mind started racing! Is this really going to happen? Is it a big one? Am I ready? I started to shake as I glanced over. It was a big tom, beard dragging the ground, walking back and forth. “Don’t move,” Dad whispered again.
Then the turkey heard a hen across the creek behind us, and never came in. I was devastated. When all of the sudden, “Here comes two more!” Dad whispered. It wasn’t over yet. My heart started pounding once again. The two turkeys were running to us! I gripped the cold metal of my gun. Then they jumped up, and started attacking our decoy, they were flying in the air, and hitting it with their spurs.
I pulled the trigger, but not hard enough. Since the gun didn’t fire I had to wait for another open shot.
Finally the time came. One of the turkeys stopped, and stared right at us. This time I squeezed the trigger, and the turkey dropped. My dad shot at the other turkey, but it was flying and he missed.
We stood up and started high-fiving and fist-bumping.
“You smoked him buddy!” Dad exclaimed.
Then we walked over to claim my trophy. When we got there we exchanged high-fives again. “You killing a turkey means more to me than me killing one,” Dad said.
When we got back to the truck, we started to take pictures. Some were with Dad’s cell phone and others with the digital camera.
That was the greatest day of my life. It was exciting, fun, and most of all…an adrenaline rush.

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I believe Chase gives us an inside look at how a child feels sharing the outdoors with his parent. It is a memory that will last long after his dad can no longer go out in the fields, yet it is also a memory he will surely share with his kids in the future. I am also sure if you asked Chase’s dad about that day, he too would agree it was one of the greatest days of his life as well.

Bill Howard is an avid bowhunter, hunter education and IBEP instructor, and outdoors columnist for the Yancey County News and Wilson Times (North Carolina). You can read his blogs and catch video on www.billhowardoutdoors.com.